princess_of_ida | IC Inbox

I've got a body in my flat
Jem Walker asked me to kill her

Oh. OK. I'm on my way. Just gotta... sober up. Method of death?

cut throat and subsequent exsanguination
she's bleeding into a tub now

Are you sure you're okay for this?

Did she pick the method or did you? And I'm fine. Sober now.

[Which she hated. She didn't want to feel, but she needed to start handling her shit. And she needed to be sober to properly see to Jem, so she forced her body to metabolize the alcohol in it.]

I picked it
I wanted it clean and fast

Alright. I'm about five minutes away. How do you intend on handling the aftermath? The moot hall, her loved ones. Her... family.

I've got someone she wanted me to alert
I'm gonna let him know once this is over
I'll take what the town wants me to take

Her family can handle their own shit when she gets back

I'm not going to address this at the moot hall unless I'm questioned. I should tell John, but I don't want to deal with him while my nerves are so raw. Why you?

I don't want you to take any kind of responsibility, Ianthe
I just want this to go as smooth as it can. I'm not strong enough to carry her, she's going to end up with you anyway...this just seemed efficient

If I'm supposed to believe her, that's why she picked me
because I would just do it

I'm not gonna let anyone be put to task for this but me and her

Fair enough. I have a skeleton with me to carry her, and I'll clean up the blood. Is this your first kill? I don't care about details.

are you worried about me, ianthe

More curious than anything.

I've seen a ton of people die
I killed John in the Void
I tried once before all that

It doesn't feel like the first time, but it probably is

I wish I could say the first kill is the hardest, but it's not. I'm here.

[ When he opens the back door, Quentin is...relatively solid. No sparkling zadza, no teary puffiness, only tiredness leaving him gaunt and a spray of blood that caught the inside of his right elbow and the right side of his ribs. He steps out of the way and gestures her upstairs.

[ The room is typically untidy, but the spot by the fire, where Jem is folded over her own knees, it's especially clean. No books or dishes or blankets or clothes, just the chair, the wooden tub, and the woman with her head hung below the edge like she's bobbing for apples. A drip sounds from inside. The knife he used sits on a towel next to the tableau. ]

I...made sure to tie back her hair. I dunno. Seemed like it would help.

[Ianthe looked like she hadn't slept in days, dark circles under her eyes, and she definitely smelled like alcohol. Her eyes, though, were clear if devoid of emotion. As Ianthe entered, the skeleton trailing behind her, she trailed her fingers over Quentin's shirt, necromantically gathering the blood from the fabric.]

That was nice of you.

[The blood hovered in a swirling ball above her golden hand as she approached the corpse. She knelt next to it and let the sphere of blood drop into the basin with the rest of it.]

Did you remove anything you needed to from her, such as jewelry?

I mean, I don't need anything off her. [ He watches the blood, gives Ianthe a wide berth. The necromancy works all kind of ways. He's seen John disappear blood into so much ash, but maybe Ianthe needs it whole for her duties. Wonder if she needs the whole bucket. The closer she gets to the body (Jem's body) the wider a dull feeling of nausea spreads in his stomach. ]

Is that something you need? Effects...set aside? Or something?

No. Just making sure to you didn't forget if you were supposed to give it to that person you're going to tell about this.

[Ianthe gently lifted Jem's body up from the basin, ensuring the eyes were closed, and checked the wound on her throat. Definitely dead. The skeleton moved over to pick up the body like it was a princess so Ianthe could drape a sheet over it. Hide it from view.]

I'll take care of her now.

[The next time Quentin looked at the basin, there wasn't a drop of blood present as she'd consumed all the thanergy from it, leaving a very fine pale dust behind on the bottom.]

[ He nods, lips pressed flat. Just like that. Easy as anything. He wrings out the heel of one palm with the other thumb. ] ...She asked me to do it. She was so afraid of dying, it was making her crazy.

I did this to help.

You don't need to justify anything to me. I believe you.

[Ianthe's opinion didn't matter. No one's mattered except Jem's and Quentin's. And she supposed Zlatka.]

[ He nods his understanding, slow with lingering hesitance. Even if, at the end of the day, Ianthe's opinion was going to decide if this was the right move or not, would bleating about it right now show off anything other than desperation? Quentin doesn't ply her further. ]

...Thank you, Ianthe. For coming. For--helping.

I know you won't sleep, but try.

[Ianthe put a hand on his arm briefly (she hadn't thought to bring a cookie) before pulling away so she could escort Jem's body to her death rites.]

Goodnight, Quentin.

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→ in person . cw: mild gore, dead body

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