[PRP] welcome to my parlor (renard & jeremiah)

[azuredreams]

It was likely overdue. Long overdue.

It may have also been a bad idea but it had been, more often than once, pointed out that no one had talked to him. No one had really spoken to Renard about what was going on. They had simply acted. There were, of course, several other reasons to speak with Renard (the list was quite large if Jeremiah were honest) but whether or not they would all be covered ...

That would remain to be seen.

Which was why Jeremiah Mercer, with a small parcel under arm, was knocking on the door to the Leroux-Noor-Shore mansion. (He had, for a little while, thought about visiting Renard's office in Boston but then that seemed a touch rude, if only because he did not always want people coming to his office to discuss things that were not necessarily work related).

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Sonny answered the door. Their eyes went momentarily wide, and then they looked over their shoulder and yelled, "Father, Chief Mercer is here to see you!" Then they said, "I'm gonna go make tea," and ******** bailed like Jeremiah had the plague and they were scared of catching it. So much for any progress he'd made last time they spoke.

Renard descended the stairs and nodded in greeting to Jeremiah. "Chief Mercer," he said. "What brings you to darken my doorstep?"

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

Jeremiah inclined his head towards Sonny, not saying anything as they were already darting off to make tea. Mostly because he was somehow not surprised progress was lost. Not given those text messages he had read, not given-

He did resist rolling his eyes. Darken my doorstep. Renard was given a polite nod of greeting, a hand offered as well if he wanted to take it. "Well, Mister Leroux, it seems people do a poor job of asking your opinion and speaking with you and I am hear to do both on a wide and varied amount of subjects." A pause. "I also was tasked with bringing you a jar of jam that was made by the lovely couple that live next door to me."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Renard did not take Jeremiah's hand. He was a notorious germaphobe, so this should not be surprising to any involved parties. "Then perhaps you should come up to the office," said Renard. "If you leave the jam on the sideboard, I'm sure Ascencion will come up with something to do with it."

"We can put it on biscuits," yelled Sonny from the kitchen at the back of the house.

"We can put it on biscuits," said Renard, his tone level. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "There is also the parlor, if you prefer."

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

Which was why Jeremiah had washed his hands more than once before coming over and did not expect it to be taken but it was still polite to offer.

"I'll leave the jam on the sideboard." There was a pause, an eyebrow raising, his own lips twitching (because there was something about the interaction that made him lower his guard, just a little; it was good, it was wholesome, it was family). "I wouldn't want to risk your office to crumbs," biscuits were added to the tea equation, "so I will defer to your judgement on which place is better for discussion."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"The office," said Renard. "I feel certain what you have to say is not something I want my child party to." He led the way upstairs.

To the left of the second-story landing, there was a familiar storage space: once upon a time, Jeremiah had stood there with Zac and perused Prividaniye's sketchbooks. Now it looked more lived in, had more canvases leaning against the walls and fewer tucked away. There were notebooks splayed across the slab table in the center. Renard didn't wait to let Jeremiah get a better look: he passed further down the landing and took the second door.

Renard's office was a study in cool neutrals. The walls were a pale blue, the ceiling sheet white. A modernist interpretation of a Sputnik lamp hung in a recessed shelf; in the shelves were not books, but photographs, small paintings, occasional planners with years embossed in gold on the spine. Whitewashed drawers filled the rest of the recessed space, closed and silent as sentinels. Before this display of taste and good culture, Renard's desk was a simple glass-top on a base of dark wood, immaculately clean, with nowhere for the wires to his open desktop to hide. His chair was a comfortable hourglass in a shade of blue just darker than his walls. The hardwood floor was protected by a plush silver rug that looked old because it was old, not because it was designed to be.

There was a window-seat that looked out over the bay, and more storage beneath it. Renard gestured, and a second chair pulled itself out of a recessed alcove. It was upholstered, looked plush, but not nearly as inviting as the chair in which Renard seated himself.

"What is it you want, Chief Mercer?" The undertone: we are not friends. We will never be friends.

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

"Not likely, no." Jeremiah said in agreement. He followed Renard, not even bothering to stop and look at the notebooks. It was rude but he remembered his last time here. Had no desire to repeat it either.

The entire office spoke of the kind of style he grew up around. Meredith Mercer would probably adore Renard Leroux on his sense of decor alone.

Between the tone and the chair, what little lowering of his guard had happened disappeared. Jeremiah sat down, not bothering to lean back into the chair or relax. He was poised, eyes focused on the man in front of him.

"As I said, a wide and varied amount of subjects. I will try to keep it to a minimum so as to not take away your time." With a flick of his own fingers, a notebook appeared with a pen clipped to it. Jeremiah did not open it up but it was set in his lap. "It's past time that you've been consulted about what is going on." A pause. "Though not all of this is in regards to things I handle as the Chief of Police. I can start with that, however, as one of my newer officers is handling the case of your missing husband."

Ultimately everything was connected.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Much appreciated," said Renard.

He raised his eyebrows. The wireless computer--it wasn't even connected to a power source--swiveled towards him at another casual gesture. It was displays of magic like that that rendered him unnerving to most people, made most of them think of Harry Potter in regards to the rare person with magic. The fact that almost no one else had that facility had passed most of the common populace by. "I am aware. Officer Bliskiss is spoken of highly by my daughter." He unearthed a keyboard from somewhere and set it beneath the computer monitor. "Unlike your detective lieutenant, she's very conscious of how concerned I am, and goes to great lengths to keep me abreast of her progress."

azuredreams

does Jer need some ice for that burn

 

[azuredreams]

Jeremiah watched, not quite used to the display of magic like that on this side. It made him think of the time some of them had mentioned, the world that came before all of this. With the comment about Bliskiss and then Kuroda, Jeremiah paused in opening up the notebook and his attention went fully onto Renard.

"I suppose that answers at least two questions," he replied lightly. "Whether or not you were satisfied with the work that Officer Bliskiss has provided so far in looking for your husband." A pause. "As well as with Detective Lieutenant Kuroda but one topic at a time." Not that he was not, already, aware of that. "However, on the topic of your husband, I have learned details about his disappearance or, rather, his current status."

His eyes were focused on Renard. "Which is to say he is trapped, though I feel as if that is putting it lightly."

shibrogane

he might by the time this is all over

 

[shibrogane]

Renard raised his eyebrows. "Trapped," he said. He sounded about as surprised as Renard ever was, which was not very at all. "What do you know? I would prefer Liam return soon, before my daughter does something stupid in her concern for him."

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

"What's been reported, what I have learned from others beside Officer Bliskiss," replied Jeremiah. "That he was found, that it's something awful." Words from America. "... but that it is a trap. I expect you'll likely get a call from America, wanting a piece of what traps him, so that we can see about freeing him. Officer Bliskiss is likewise looking for avenues to explore to release him from what has him bound."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"That's unfortunate," said Renard, who had a gift for understatement. "But I'm not sure how you expect me to give anyone a piece of whatever trap my husband is in. I don't know where he is."

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

"I don't expect anything from you, Mister Leroux." His thumb idly brushed against his fingers, once again the bloodstone ring on his ring finger and then spinning the bone ring on his pinky. "I am simply telling you that you may find yourself with a visitor in the future. America thinks very highly of you, rightly so, and because of her friendship with Sonny wants to help. I also believe that Officer Bliskiss will do everything in her power to see your husband brought home to you and your child."

A smile, small and proper, was given to Renard. Jeremiah was very much the picture of propriety. The Chief of Police out to handle business and relate information on an important case.

"Unless there's any other information you can offer, as I am certain you've been the most help at this point, I'll move on to the other things I wish to discuss with you."

shibrogane

... >__> what does the bone ring say?

 

[shibrogane]

He is not afraid. Fear would only get him killed. He is angry, and it is anger that will keep him alive.

Renard sat up straighter at the ring's words, though he didn't seem to be aware of their content, only that something had been said. He frowned, brows furrowing, and was silent for another moment before finally clearing his throat. "Clearly you did," he said, dryly, "as you just informed me that Miss Jones will want me to give her a piece of whatever has my husband. But I shall let it pass, I suppose. What else is it you want to know?"

azuredreams

 

[azuredreams]

The whisper of a voice was still unnervingly familiar but the words put him on edge. That Renard moved as the ring spoke- Well, it was the first time he had seen someone notice the ring's power (though he looked unaware of what was said). "I am simply letting it go. I will never assume that Miss Jones is a liar but I am not going to push if you do not wish to discuss it with me." As it was only America that had said it was Renard. Officer Bliskiss had never said a name, despite the fact that that was who she had been out with.

There was a text on his phone to prove it. Jeremiah paused a moment, brows furrowing in thought before he decided to speak. "On the topic of Miss Jones, we went to Boston. To an old art gallery." A pause. "At least, it was an art gallery for us when we walked in. Within we found Vivien Hawken. Very much not alive but very much so waiting for Liam still."

shibroswol