Nevinia wouldn't have minded the trek from headquarters through the Dives if it hadn't been pouring and it ... well ... hadn't been the Dives. Oiled hood pulled over her head, a slightly darker green than the rest of her uniform that stood out like her field in the dark, dirty alleys she strode through with whatever professional and purposeful air she could muster.

Usually, she wouldn't come to the red light district alone, but since this was not a bust or a sting of anything actually illegal, the dark-haired Constable had decided that a single officer would hopefully have more success at finding who she needed to. At least she was armed. Or something.

Pausing under an awning to catch her bearings, Nia glanced around in hopes of finding some building names or numbers that seemed remotely familiar to the general whereabouts of where she'd found Daisy's sister to be ... uh ... working.

The women that were out braving the cold were hurrying back inside as soon as they caught sight of the seventen uniform. Only a select few stayed out-- whether because they were close enough to death they didn't care if it was spent in a cell, or because they believed they were innocent, or because they needed the money.

"Allo luv! I 'eard gollies swing both ways. I can give ye a bit o'fun, for a price!" One of the women crowed, and then coughed. It sounded disgusting. A skinnier, redhead girl slapped her.

"Shut yer hole and learn ter look, moony." The two women started fighting.

A blond, scared looking maiden cross the street and cleared her throat.

"Hullo. I'm Cecilia...Do-- Someone told me a seventen'd be by t'talk ter us about Daisy... 'e said ye was lookin' for her." She looked hopeful, and in that moment, rather youthful. The rest of her appearance contradicted that. Her clothes were skimpy, and her hair was partly matted. She probably could have gorgeous, but the cold and her life had reduced her to looking only a little better than average. Cecilia shivered a little, waiting for a reply.

Nevinia didn't quite bristle at the attention she was attracting, aware that she stood out in the neighborhood by her uniform as much as by her field. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to look at the special few who had decided to brave the terrible weather.

It was almost a relief to be addressed directly. The constable blinked at the blond woman from under her hood, finally turning to look at the blonde at the mention of Daisy's name. She sighed and approached her,

"Yes, that would be me. I'm Constable Greymoor. Is there someone inside we can talk?" She offered something of an authoritative expression, unsure if going indoors anywhere here in the Dives would be better than standing in the rain. At all.

"Who told you to be expecting me, Cecilia?"

"News gets around." Cecilia said, avoiding looking the Constable in the eyes. She lead her through the streets automatically, not even needing to look up for landmarks. Cecilia had lived here her whole life. She brought the seventen to a tall building that looked slightly lopsided. It seemed to mirror most of the human's postures. It looked defeated.

The inside was as cold as the outside. There were drips coming from the cracks in the windows. On the floor above, a baby was crying. Cecilia didn't even seem to hear it. It had been crying since she left this morning.

"Welcome t'me home." She looked nervous as she said this, glancing behind her. It was only her and the seventen right now. "We can talk in peace, yeh."

Nevinia doubted that all news traveled without a purpose. She'd heard plenty of understatements, and above the screaming child, the pouring rain, and the suspicion that there was always someone else willing to listen, the dark-haired woman doubted there was a single place of real peace in the Dives. She studied the younger human before speaking, grey eyes taking in her features while she briefly concentrated on determining if there were any other fields nearby, wick or more. She doubted it, of course, but it was still the kind of caution that earned her three snaps instead of a headstone.

"You know I'm looking for your sister." Nia finally spoke up, matter-of-factly, maintaining control over her level of disdain, "When was the last time you saw her?"

Nevina could sense a very weak field above her.

"Sommat like... two months ago." Cecilia noticed the change in field but didn't say anything about it. She wasn't good at interpreting what it meant. "She went out t'work, and ne'er came back. I thought maybe she were sleepin' with 'er new boss, but Daisy ne'er did any of that. She was good. Followed more'n ma's footsteps. She ne'er hurt a fly, not her."

If Nevinia cared about the assumption that a human would be sleeping with her employer, she kept it from her expression. It was disturbing, bordering on the disgusting, but the Seventen wasn't here to make those kinds of judgments. She was here to find someone, not to get into a discussion about morality with a whore.

"She had a new job?" The constable finally managed quietly, hands listlessly shedding water from her over-cloak, "You wouldn't know the name of who she was working for, would you? Was it more housework or something else?"

She didn't mean something else to imply anything ... in particular. Really, she didn't.

"Erm. 'arris, or sommat like that? I dunno. Yer names all sound th'same t'me." Cecilia shrugged, and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Yeah it were only housework. She was a good girl. Th'best o'th'family, lemme tell you that. Daisy was-- is a good girl. She's around somewhere. Prolly just landed herself into a bit of trouble." Even though the words were coming out they sounded more desperate, than hopeful.

The door slammed open and a large dumpy woman ran in, red and sweaty from running. She grabbed Nevinia's arm, seemingly forgetting all propriety.

"Please! She didn't do naught!!! I tried t'teach her all I could but sometimes she just runs with the wrong people! Don't take her away!" Her hand was powerful and it tightened painfully on the seventen's arm with bizarre fear, "She's not connected with none of them bastards in th'-- well she's a good girl! She comes straight home. You just tell me what she's been doin' and I'll box her ears m'self, like I did when she was naught but a kit!"

"Ma! Leave off!" Cecilia shrieked, and tried to pry her mother's hand off of the seventen. Ruby Harriet, mother of three, whirled around so fast she was almost a blurr. "Shut yer damn traitorous mouth! I wont have it from you!" She snapped. Cecilia was on the floor, rubbing her cheek which was quickly turning red.

"See? I can do discipline. She wont run astray again, I promise!" Ruby looked at Nevinia anxiously.

Nevinia's grey eyes narrowed as someone unexpected and obviously uncalled for snatched her arm and began to ramble loudly. While she didn't shake herself free, it was obvious by the tension in her field and her body language that the Seventen was most displeased by this older woman's behavior.

"That's quite enough." She managed firmly, authority in her tone not wavering even as she glanced at Cecilia on the floor before turning her attention to her mother, "It's not recommended to be assaulting an officer of the law, let alone your own children in front of one."

She sniffed haughtily, attempting to filter quickly through everything she just heard in the few heartbeats she had to hold onto whatever upper hand she could manage in the situation,

"My visit has nothing to do with Cecilia. I'm here to inquire about Daisy, who appears to have gone missing. I don't plan on taking anyone away unless either of you decide to appear uncooperative." Nevinia said carefully, "I suggest you both start speaking plainly or there might be some real discipline to worry about."

"Who are 'them bastards'? Hmm? And what sort of business is this Harris involved in?" The constable addressed both women separately, field tightening with the threat in her tone.

Ruby let go of the seventen as if her arm was a hot iron. She bit back the retort that rose to her mind when Nevinia chided her for hitting Cecilia. The human looked at the seventen dourly. Nevinia looked as if she could be so easily overpowered. She was thin, petite-- shorter than Cecilia, taller than Ruby who had shrunken with age and looked shorter because of how rotund she was.

"Daisy?" The mother asked incredulously, and then understanding dawned. She turned on Cecilia again, despite being told not to. "Dumb slut! Ye've been wastin' your time on dreams again, hain't you?! When are you going t'get it through your skull. Daisy's dead. Been so for two months!"

Cecilia got up, enraged, "Go t'hell! I know she's arright I know it!" She looked over at the seventen, " 'arris was her employer. Was a golly."

Harriet looked like she might have been winding up for a punch again, but she unflexed her hand when Cecilia turned to talk to Nevinia.

"Th'girl be wastin' yer time, officer. Daisy's dead. A mother knows. Sorry for th'bother."

Combat training had given the dark-haired galdor the ability to appear less prepared, even when she most certainly was. Regardless of her magical, and thus social, superiority, Nevinia was aware that her physical strength was not necessarily as impressive as the lower races. She pursed her lips almost impatiently at the interchange between mother and daughter, unable to help a bit of concern at the older woman's callousness about the potential death of her own child. It was only personal because of her own experiences as a child, losing a brother mysteriously, and it took a moment for the constable to gather her thoughts and address the situation.

Taking a quick breath, the Seventen looked to Ruby, studying the woman carefully, "A mother knows, does she? What else does she know? Do you know how your daughter died? Or where she is? Have you seen a body? It seems to me at least Cecilia has a name to help further my investigation. You're awfully comfortable with the idea of losing a daughter, especially a daughter who by the sounds of things maintained a slightly safer occupation."

Yes, that bordered on the unkind and insensitive. While Nevinia was so far thankful for Cecelia's apparent helpfulness, she wanted to see just how far Ruby could be pushed. Humans had every right to be used to death, but losing children was surely not a pleasant thought for any race.

Ruby was turning an angry red and she stared at the seventen sullenly, refusing to break eye contact.

"Yeah well it ent no mystery to us from the low side what 'appened to her, innit? You an' your seventen arse can talk big but when it comes t'knowin' things, well... It en't like ye make it yer business t'find out." Ruby spat, causing Cecilia to gasp and make a horrified noise out of the back of her throat. Her mother ignored her.

"Ye come 'ere two months after and ye expect ter find sommat?" Ruby sneered. "Daisy's been gone for two months. She haint got nowhere t'run, and no reason t'run. An' if ye seventen cared a clockin' mite ter what went on 'ere in th'Dives ye'd know she en't th'first child or man to disappear. I could name four people I know what've been marked dead by their families."

Cecilia mumbled something but stopped when Ruby glared at her. She turned back to Nevinia.

"I'd show ye her body but it's prolly been fed t'the dogs by them who's been killin' people around here." She drew herself up to her full height, ignoring Cecilia who was openly crying now. "As for my grief. Well. My pain's my own. Not for th'likes of you ter mock or scorn. I'm from the Dives and we don't give quarter." She'd be damned if she ever let a golly in to see her soul.

Nevinia listened quietly, expression beginning to border on the sour as she took mental notes on the older woman's words. As far as she was concerned, it was her business to find out—when it was made her business. Normally, looking for one dead human among many was not a particularly important assignment, no, but since some bizarrely concerned galdor obviously wanted his help back, well, it sure as the Circle was round was her business now. Used to the calloused distance between herself and the lower races, the dark-haired constable sighed.

"So, you've seen a body?" Letting her gray eyes drift from Ruby to Cecilia, her voice grew hard in her attempt to sort out the facts, "And you were telling me a story? Is there even a Harris?"

She considered asking about the other deaths, but the Seventen felt the need to finish her line of questioning before chasing rabbits.

"Whoever be killin' our people don't leave no bodies, do 'e?" Ruby growled. Cecilia tried to make herself smaller. It was hard because the girl was so tall.

"Harris was her employer. 'e was a golly. Kept touchin' Daisy's arse, 'e did." Cecilia piped up at the Seventen's next question.

The dark-haired Seventen's eyes narrowed as she began to understand that Ruby was persistent on grouping Daisy's disappearance and death with others. More than a handful, by the sounds of things. Was this related to the murders her superiors had brushed off so many weeks ago in the Paper Tiger? While she was aware that crime was not uncommon in the Dives—far from it—Nevinia was curious enough to remember her conversation with Zalika. Was this bigger than it seemed?

Keeping her thoughts from her expression, the constable glanced briefly at Cecilia, struggling to keep any disgust from her tone, "I will make it a point to investigate this Harris. You wouldn't have any more to go on than a name, would you? Business perhaps?"

Shifting her attention to Ruby, she attempted something bordering on the apologetic, "Are you implying that Daisy was a victim of a serial crime? I'm well aware of the level of illegal activity among your people, but if this is something say ... out of the ordinary, it would be my duty to look into it further."

"No'm. My apologies." Cecilia muttered, scratching a row of nasty looking bug bites on her arm. It looked as if it might be flees.

Ruby's face was turning even more red. She looked like a tea pot about to boil over. Instead she took a deep breath and turned around, began to tidy up the kitchen. There wasn't much she could do. The room was packed with useless things. There were old toys, broken plates, pots, pans, scattered matches...Nothing that looked spectacularly useful.

Nothing that could be sold.

"Aye, well the low people know it well enough. A death a month, that en't nothin' unusual in th'dives. But like I said. I know four people what've gotten killt."

"Four people close to you? Or four unrelated people in the area?" Nevinia did her best to cover up her disappointment in any further information about Harris by questioning Ruby further.

She'd honestly never spent much time actually considering the squalor her job often brought her in contact with, considering how far away her entire life had kept her from it. She only came to the Dives to do her job; she didn't have to live here. Still, sometimes she wondered distantly whether or not better conditions for the lower races would actually make a difference.

Maybe.

Then again, some things may just be what made galdori who they were.

"These people who have died ... have disappeared?"

Harriet looked like she didn't want to say anything else.

"Well I din't know 'em too well. I jest 'eard from 'earsay." She growled and snapped her mouth closed.

Cecilia had gone to sit down in one of the chairs in the corner. She looked wretched.

"Sometimes." She whispered, when her mother began to furiously scrub the table and wouldn't answer the police officer. "Sometimes they find 'em, though. None knows what's more 'orrid. Findin' sommat you love with their guts all o'er th'place, or never findin' 'em at all. Never knowin'."

"Arses to ya." Harriet snapped at her daughter. "We all know well enough. You jest don't care for th'truth, dumb slut."

Cecilia didn't even flinch.

Nevinia finally gave in and let some disdain creep slowly into her features at the situation, the interchange, and the two other women involved. Surely, this was evidence as to why humans were humans and galdori were galdori. Surely, it was not the fault of what these magicless people claimed as oppression so much as the reason for it. Right?

It was ugly.

The constable felt left grasping at straws, however, between only a surname and a dismissive claim of death. No body. No trail to follow. No one willing to really give.

She scowled, "Well, it sounds as though you're disinterested in much of a resolution." Her tone was clipped, official, but also disappointed, "I will request permission to look into the other murders. Do you have a date for when you actually last saw your daughter?"