11-04-2017, 05:46 PM
They drove on in silence for a while, Katrielle messing around with the Omnilium inside her. The iridescent material morphed and distorted into various shapes-- books, hats, weapons... now that she thought about it, maybe a weapon would be necessary; after all, if Erastelle was right, the Omniverse was a dangerous place and they needed something to defend themselves.
"Hey, Ernest? I know this may sound odd, but if you needed a weapon, what would you want?"
Her assistant crossed his arms, deep in thought. "Um... uh-- a shovel!" he blurted out, obviously saying the first thing that entered his mind.
"You sure?" Layton asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you want a more... useful weapon? Like maybe a sword or a gun?"
"If they don't see an actual weapon, they'll underestimate me. Who would expect someone like me to be able to defend myself with a shovel?"
The detective paused, surprised at his train of thought. "That's... actually kind of clever. I'll probably stick with a sword though." She concentrated harder, working on molding the element into a pair of weapons-- a curved sabre and a sturdy shovel eventually appeared in her hands, and she tossed the latter into Ernest's lap. Placing the blade underneath her seat, she focused on creating a sheath for her weapon, eventually bringing it into existence and sheathing her sword.
It was around this time that the shark pulled back on the reins, slowing them to a stop. They had not arrived at Minas Tirth, but instead they had stopped in the middle of the road in front of, oddly enough, a slew of police tape. Knights atop griffins surrounded the perimeter, consulting wizards and searching the area.
"Police tape doesn't even exist in medieval times," Ernest mumbled underneath his breath, knowing that didn't actually matter as they exited the vehicle. They walked up as close as they could to the yellow-and-black blockade, trying to catch a glimpse of what was beyond. Kat gasped a little when her eyes fell onto a man on the ground in a pool of blood, the guy twitching and shuddering violently-- even his arm, which had been torn off, was quivering like it was still connected.
Ernest stood on his toes to see what was going on, and while the detective tried to keep his mind from seeing the mess in front of him, she was too late. Her friend cried out in shock and backed up, a sea of nausea washing over him. "What... what was that?"
"It's a murder," said a new voice, deep, gruff, and coming from beyond the border. A man in a suit of armor approached them, his silver suit clinking about. "This road is blocked off while we investigate this."
"But what even happened?" Ernest asked, swallowing his sickness for a moment.
"We think it involves someone on a Fleek-rush."
"Fleek-rush?" Kat questioned.
"Fleek. It's a drug that's sold in the lower-class duchies. People under its influence go absolutely insane. Many turn violent. Even after the effects wear off, they don't go back to normal."
"That's horrible!" Kat said, momentarily glancing back at the body. "Is there anything I could help you with? I was a detective back in my world, so--"
"We don't need a rookie P.I. getting in our way. The best thing you could do right now is to move along and let us do our job."
Layton wanted to tell him that she was well-established back home, but relented, given that it was only back home and for all the knight knew she could've been lying through her teeth. She sighed and nodded. "Alright. Hope you catch the guy who did it." And without another word, they parted ways.
"I hope you know another route to Tirth," Kat said as she and Ernest climbed back into the carriage, once again having to go through the song and dance of situating themselves on one seat.
"A lot of roads lead to Minas," Erastelle replied. "Although a good chunk of them are dangerous and not actually roads. There's another one not too far away from here that'll do the trick."
"Hey, Ernest? I know this may sound odd, but if you needed a weapon, what would you want?"
Her assistant crossed his arms, deep in thought. "Um... uh-- a shovel!" he blurted out, obviously saying the first thing that entered his mind.
"You sure?" Layton asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you want a more... useful weapon? Like maybe a sword or a gun?"
"If they don't see an actual weapon, they'll underestimate me. Who would expect someone like me to be able to defend myself with a shovel?"
The detective paused, surprised at his train of thought. "That's... actually kind of clever. I'll probably stick with a sword though." She concentrated harder, working on molding the element into a pair of weapons-- a curved sabre and a sturdy shovel eventually appeared in her hands, and she tossed the latter into Ernest's lap. Placing the blade underneath her seat, she focused on creating a sheath for her weapon, eventually bringing it into existence and sheathing her sword.
It was around this time that the shark pulled back on the reins, slowing them to a stop. They had not arrived at Minas Tirth, but instead they had stopped in the middle of the road in front of, oddly enough, a slew of police tape. Knights atop griffins surrounded the perimeter, consulting wizards and searching the area.
"Police tape doesn't even exist in medieval times," Ernest mumbled underneath his breath, knowing that didn't actually matter as they exited the vehicle. They walked up as close as they could to the yellow-and-black blockade, trying to catch a glimpse of what was beyond. Kat gasped a little when her eyes fell onto a man on the ground in a pool of blood, the guy twitching and shuddering violently-- even his arm, which had been torn off, was quivering like it was still connected.
Ernest stood on his toes to see what was going on, and while the detective tried to keep his mind from seeing the mess in front of him, she was too late. Her friend cried out in shock and backed up, a sea of nausea washing over him. "What... what was that?"
"It's a murder," said a new voice, deep, gruff, and coming from beyond the border. A man in a suit of armor approached them, his silver suit clinking about. "This road is blocked off while we investigate this."
"But what even happened?" Ernest asked, swallowing his sickness for a moment.
"We think it involves someone on a Fleek-rush."
"Fleek-rush?" Kat questioned.
"Fleek. It's a drug that's sold in the lower-class duchies. People under its influence go absolutely insane. Many turn violent. Even after the effects wear off, they don't go back to normal."
"That's horrible!" Kat said, momentarily glancing back at the body. "Is there anything I could help you with? I was a detective back in my world, so--"
"We don't need a rookie P.I. getting in our way. The best thing you could do right now is to move along and let us do our job."
Layton wanted to tell him that she was well-established back home, but relented, given that it was only back home and for all the knight knew she could've been lying through her teeth. She sighed and nodded. "Alright. Hope you catch the guy who did it." And without another word, they parted ways.
"I hope you know another route to Tirth," Kat said as she and Ernest climbed back into the carriage, once again having to go through the song and dance of situating themselves on one seat.
"A lot of roads lead to Minas," Erastelle replied. "Although a good chunk of them are dangerous and not actually roads. There's another one not too far away from here that'll do the trick."
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