There have been times in his life, more frequent than not, that Riley has prayed someone would take this away from him. Take away the sight, take away the visions, take away every act of rememberance for lives he never knew, people he never touched. But there must be something in him, some survival mechanism, something that holds on to the good. Because she talks, and he still feels sick to his damn stomach. He still feels like he might throw up later at the very idea of it. The violation, having body parts and skills taken away from you – ripped away, with violent hands. So someone else could use it. And maybe it would be one thing if they just used magic to do it. Magic could hurt, it was true. But it was probably cleaner and, Riley imagined, it wouldn’t be as violently traumatic.
He lapses into quiet and lets Ransom wrap things up, lets him finish his questioning and thank them. He strains out a smile and nods his head, and follows Ransom when he leaves the room. Selfishly, he’s glad to be away from them, from the visiual of the situation. It made his head hurt too much, like he could almost imagine what it felt like in far too many different ways. And it was dangerous for him to imagine too much. He still felt something looming, dangerous, at the back of his mind. A phantom tingle in his eye.
He shakes his head, glances at Ransom.
“Is it?” He asks, a little hesitant, wanting to know. “Fantastic, I mean.” Because the word stuck out to him, and it gave him some level of hope that Ransom… knew something he didn’t, could point them in the right direction in one way or another. The grusome ideas made Riley feel a little lost, but he can see how something like that might point Ransom, who had a world of different experiences under his belt, down the right path. “The fact that they’re willing to use no-maj means. That’s helpful, for you?” He thinks the egde of hope creeps into his voice, as they walk out of the hospital so that Ransom can side-along him to talk to Blue.
He stops when they get outside, and offers his arm. Once again waiting for the contact, something to hold on to during the journey. And a moment of vulnerability creeps up. “Does it make me sound like an awful coward if I tell you I’m not looking forward to all of this?” It’s something at his own expense, but something he feels the need to say. Ransom should know if he’s working with a nervous wreck, and Riley is a wreck on the best of days, it feels like. “Better tell me now, so I can reign it in in front of Blue.”
They finish up easily, and head out of the room, making their way back through the hospital, and he’s already thinking about the best way to get in with these people, who they might be able to call on to help make it more believable. But first, he’s right to ask what the hell he was talking about, they’re partners, after all, he needs to get him filled in. “Fantastic was probably the wrong word, but it is helpful, yeah. It’s royally fucked that they’re using no-maj means, too, and it shows a certain level of sadism that makes me think this isn’t just business, but maybe something more personal. They could have a prejudice against seers, for some odd reason, they could be trying to send a message, or they could just be sick fucks who like to see people suffer needlessly. But the big thing here is that I know a few criminal organizations who have that same trademark in the Vegas underground,” he explains, talking fast, as they start out of the hospital. His thoughts are already a dozen steps ahead, figuring out who he could call that might know something. Easier to focus on that, than the why of it being so familiar.
He stops, though, halting those thoughts for a second as soon as they get outside, and Riley admits how much he’s not looking forward to any of it. It says something that he asks if it makes him a coward, to be nervous in the face of something this enormous, in the face of other people with his skill being kidnapped and trafficked, having unspeakable things done to them. His look softens a little into a frown. “I’d be concerned if you were looking forward to heading into this, being a seer yourself. If it makes you a coward, then I’m a coward, too,” he pauses for a second, considering giving a bit of his own vulnerability. It’s not something he talks about really, but it only feels fair to give him something, too. “I have some personal experience with what it means when people like this are willing to use no-maj means to make their points. It’s not the same, of course, but I get not looking forward to this. So don’t worry about being nervous. Hell, I’m sure Blue will understand even better than me; they went through it, after all.”
That’s about as much vulnerability as he can give just about anyone, but he hopes it helps a little. It’s not the sort of thing he can linger on, though. Ransom gives him a little pat on the shoulder, and finally takes his arm, apparating them to the location listed in the case file of Blue’s office without waiting. And it’s just the sort of place he was expecting of a nonprofit like this run out of fucking Cambridge, just down the street from Harvard. He lets himself focus on that, instead, on the familiarity, the way being on the east coast, even for a second, makes him feel like he’s seventeen again.
They don’t even make it inside before he sees Blue, though, waving someone off, probably an organizer or donor or some shit, just as tall and handsome as he remembered them being. It’s easily to slip into his winning smile, let any lingering worry slip away for a second as he approaches. “They make you stand out in the New England cold even though you’re the boss around here?” he asks, with a grin, as they come up to them.
“Ah, no one makes me do anything. The cold is good for you, sharpens the mind,” Eden Blue says, mirroring his smile easily, before holding out their hand to shake. “The aurors, da? I have seen you make an appearance at fundraisers before. Ransom Hazard?”
“The very same. And this is my partner on the case, Cadet Riley Metzer,” he introduces him. “We really appreciate you being willing to meet with us, I’m sure you’re horribly busy.”
“It is no problem, anything to help stop this mess,” they wave him off, but look at Riley curiously, before recognition seems to dawn on them, their smile changing. “I am familiar with you, too. Eden LeRoux Blue. You are the tiny baby bird my husband has told me about, aren’t you?”