Scene #634: Kana's Interrogation

Owner	Pose
Ainsley	Not long after being detained and treated for her massive abuse of time and blood magic, Kana can be found seated at a table set up in her room. She has her hands shackled to prevent the creation of spells, to counteract the filtration of raw mana energy into the air of her cell. She's given enough to survive off of and little more, so the shackles are more to prevent her from doing anything self-destructive in an attempt to escape. The Quetzal woman does not seem to be any state that suggests she wants to escape. She has a thousand-yard stare on her blank face. Her hands busily craft origami animals that she leaves sat on top of the table, a request she made during a rare lucid moment. There must be two dozen of them at this point. Strewn around her cell are failed attempts at them as well, crumpled or stomped on just from her walking around. She must've been doing this for hours. Her hands are covered in little paper cuts covered with band-aids.
Faruja	To say one Inquisitor Faruja Senra is furious would be an understatement. Ainsley's own mother nearly killing her only tears at his own fury at the suffering found at his own parent's hand. That fact that his lover's involved and there's horrid Heresy about? Faruja's had to submit four seperate rounds of applications to even get the chance to interrogate her. Some in the Union, and rightly so, seem to be afraid he might resort to less well regarded tactics in doing so. A tall, rabbit-eared woman follows Faruja, looking worriedly at him. Acolyte Strawberry is not her normal, cheerful self. She's scared, a small device in her hand, giving the Inquisitor some space. If anyone outside of Ainsley can get him to not kill the woman, it'd be the bubbly bunny. Particularly when she has a tazer in her hands. So far, as Faruja sweeps the form of Kana with pure hate, things don't seem to be shaping up well. Faruja raises his cane, and loudly smacks it against the bars of the holding cells. "EYES UP HERETIC!" Comes Faruja's voice, full of anger and authority. "State thine name, homeland, and social rank! IMMEDIATELY!" Snarls the nezumi. The bunny-woman sighs, already readying the shocking device.
Ainsley	Pretty soon Kana is greeted by the sound of a slamming cane against bars. She is briefly startled by the sound, and there's the sound of paper tearing. She doesn't respond to the words immediately, looking down at the origami creation as if barely aware of what just happened, the same look she gave him before when she was being captured. She turns her head to look up at Faruja, staring up at him. "I have no name or homeland. My rank is Kana, assigned to the northern Japanese primary sector." This immediately explains a few things that Ainsley has told Faruja and others. Her brow shows some tension as she starts to regain lucidity. She looks at him, but all he'd see is the confusion of someone who had just been pulled out of a most incomprehsible state. "Who are you?" she wonders, in that soft, raspy voice of hers.
Faruja	"Assigned by whom? What was thine task? I understand ye art a skilled Time Mage and...hmph. Blood-magic using Witch! Ye aught beg the Lord forgiveness for thine sins!" Huff. Strawberry squeezes the rat's shoulder, and he nods. This isn't Ivalice. "Explain /this/." Faruja slides a picture under the bars. Within? Is the blood-circle found in the locked container before it was reduced to little more than reverse-aged dust. Berry lowers the device in her hand as Faruja seems to calm slightly. He still lashes his tail, very much the picture of coiled violence. Every now and then, a hand dips in his robes. Smartly, the rat was removed of all sharp objects. Kana has the gall to ask questions. "Inpudent knave! Hmph. I shall grant ye that small knowledge. The Lord /is/ merciful. Inquisitor Faruja Senra of the Most Holy Church of Saint Ajora Glabados, heathen. Ye shall answer all of mine questions promptly. Understand?" Growls the rat. Strawberry speaks up this time. "What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?" She, unlike Faruja, has a stern, if softer appearance.
Ainsley	Kana isn't a quick answering person. She is quiet and calm, in the way only a wounded creature can possibly be. She carefully stands as he continues to speak, her aching body not allowing quick movements. Her head turns as the picture is slid under her door. She steps over and kneels to pick it up. Now he can see her face up close, and it's not a pretty picture. Her eyes are bloodshot, her mouth drooped into a slight frown, her scales rough and greying and many wrinkles marring her features. She doesn't look anywhere under fifty years old. She looks up at Faruja, right in the eyes. Nothing about his anger seems to affect her. Something about the cold and confused stare she has seems exactly as crazy as she was when he saw her babbling on the street, just less unleashed and violent. She doesn't seem to react like a person might to his temper. "I was using the blood of my enemies to give myself youth. The ritual was forbidden after the second metahuman wars and I did not have access to it, so I tried to reverse-engineer it." The word 'enemies' isn't even spoken with anything less than her cool and calm voice. She raises the picture and points to it, her range of motion a little awkward thanks to her shackles. "I would explain the details of the ritual, but you seem like you might only become angrier if I did." As if what she already said was not the worst of it. "What I remember is returning to my post for the purpose of recording some historical accounts, and then continuing my work on this ritual." She shoves the picture back through the bars, though, as if she didn't want anything to do with it. Then she gets right up next to the bars, and presses her nose against them. "I knew men like you," she tells Faruja in a cryptic whisper.
Faruja	This is why in Ivalice they chain victims/captives to their chairs. Uncomfortable, keeps them awake, and makes sure they don't have to wander to see the evidence against them. Faruja's gaze hardly flinches upon seeing the woman up close, briefly pondering if her defeat has led to a reversal of her time-gifted youth. He makes a mental note to have her watched for sudden age progression or other health problems. So far as he's concerned, Kana's life may as well belong to her daughter. It seems rage doesn't work on this one. He resists the urge to yank the tazer from his Acolyte as she approaches the bars. Ainsley wouldn't approve, after all. "Correct. However, ye shall write down these details when this interrogation is through. As well as methods of countering them." Comes the rat, inflating his voice with authority. No, he's not going to let such evil rituals go unrecorded and warded against. "Where didst ye acquire the knowledge of these rituals enough to reverse-engineer their casting? Whom art thine 'enemies'? Ye seemed to be of the idea that ye art hunting traitors." Offers the rat, not quite able to keep down a snarl. Indeed, he can't seem to calm himself, and Kana's cool insanity only seems to make him more furious. "Then ye claim to not hath been in this town, thrusting a blade into thine own daughter's stomach, babbling like a madwoman? Hmph. I see poison yet doth drip from thine tongue." Strawberry grips her shocking device, the two prongs sparking. She doesn't yet use it on Kana, but she does seem ready to protect the Inquisitor. "Oh? Hath ye now? And just what sort of man am I, witch? And please, spare me the accusations of being a tyrant, an oppressor, et cetera. I hath had far better than ye make such foolish fantasies."
Ainsley	"I said," Kana tells Faruja, "That it was the last thing I remember doing. And then I woke up here." She does not seem angry with him, just gently correcting the jab. Her brow knits, though, after she realizes what he said. That she stabbed her daughter. The thought seems to cause a great deal more emotion in her than anything else that the rat had said, parental attachment shining through. She carefully reaches up to grasp the bars, speaking through both of her shackled hands. "Religious men who think they know how everything works, when all they see is what they point their faith-smoked glasses at. Well-intentioned leaders and prophets and priests. Heroes of the people. Dogmatic. Faithful. Vengeful. Destructive. Ignorant." She looks at Faruja as if staring right through him. "You are a silly man spitting and frothing at a restrained woman through a metal door. If this is how your faith represents itself, it is a cosmic joke. 'Witch, heretic, blasphemer.' You only see a demon that you must slay." She frowns at Faruja. "I would never harm my daughter. She abandoned me, she abandoned the Scholars, but I would NEVER hurt her." And /now/ she seems angry. To the point her shackles are glowing, as if restraining some instinctual draw for mana. Her voice got to point where one would have no doubt she'd reach through the bars and strangle Faruja if she were not blocked by her shackles. "I wanted to keep her away from men like you," she says, lowering her hands soon after as if they lost all their strength, and stepping back into the room. She finds her bed and curls up on it, resuming her vacant stare, letting out a defeated sigh.
Faruja	Faruja /scowls/ at Kana, very nearly rising to her words, before a squeeze from his acolyte and /sense/ slowly reasserts itself. Visions of Ainsley in medical dances before his mind, and as his tail squeezes the poor bars half to death, he manages to speak calmly, if coldly to the woman. His is the face of a man who's wishing for a scalpel right now. "Hmph! Typical of a godless anarchist. Faith is the only force that shall lead to unity, peace, and prosperity. I shan't waste mine breath offering ye a sermon, ye art clearly lost in the depths of idolatry. Ye think I spit at thee merely because of thine blasphemies, 'Kana'?" He leans right in, eye staring right back hatefully. "I am looking at the woman whom nearly murdered the woman I love. I wouldst love naught more than to see ye hung as ye deserve, murderer. Only Ainsley stays mine hand. Pray to whatever heathen god ye believe in that 'tis the case! Were it not for ones like thee whom break the laws set down by the Almighty, spit upon the order of the Universe itself, and slay their allies twisted men such I wouldst not be necessary!" For one brief, small moment, his face softens. They share one thing: love for Ainsley. It's horrifying, as Faruja realizes it. This woman isnt' lying about that much. Something occurs to him. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's more to this. Much like in Ivalice, he feels the creeping taint of something larger amidst seemingly 'minor' acts. "...I shall be...leniant. Suppose for one moment that ye hath not /intentionally/ done harm to thine daughter. When mine companions fought ye, they report ye were surrounded by some form of black ooze. Doth this strike anything in thine memory? What of thine fellow members of the Grey Scholars? Why didst ye scratch out pictures, with 'traitor' upon them? Speak." Demands the Templar.
Ainsley	Kana turns her head to look at him from on the bed. She doesn't seem to comprehend what he means at first. She hears that he loves her, and there's an emotion that goes through her face, something like disgust, something like confusion, a little like shock. And then there's a moment, a pause, where her cold demeanor fades away as she realizes how deeply she failed. "Blood magic has its flaws. Instead of killing or disfiguring, it drives us mad. It turns us into monsters." She rolls onto her back. "That black ooze is called dark mana. It's made of negativity. Hatred, anger, fear. I had hoped that had long since excised such things from my heart, but it appears mortal minds are not so easily cleansed of such things. It made everything... worse. My fears, my anger, my hate. It was all me, magnified." She reaches up to rub at her eyes as if subconsciously reminded of the sensation. "I wanted to turn back time. I wanted to become nothing, and just watch the world." She rolls over. There's a moment of pause, quiet, but Faruja can tell what she's doing if he looks closely. She's sobbing into the pillow. She isn't going to be receptive to questions beyond this point.
Faruja	Faruja sighs, Ainsley's own words and actions having long since instilled a solid rock upon his better instincts. Every part of him wants to rage at Kana for her weakness, corruption, and anger. But knowing what he now knows, and haunted by the whispers of the Cancer Stone, can he truly take things further now? Turning away as the woman begins to sob, he shakes his head. "All men, mineself included, art weak, and Sinful. We art so easily led astray. /However/. Know this. Ye shall pay for thine crimes indeed. But the Lord is merciful. Repent, Kana. Doth not attempt to fade away. Remain, recall, and repent what ye hath done. For those whom truly wish forgiveness, if ye work towards it, may well find it granted. Turn anger and fear to hope. Hope, to action and to making a mark upon the world, and most importantly, thine daughter. Ye love her. Mayhaps more than mineself. Help me. For her sake? Well. I am done for now. Shouldst ye agree, tell the guards." With that? He walks out of the room, miraculously having managed to not stab Kana to death. Faruja feels just a little proud of himself for it.