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Fandom: FFXIV
Summary: Snowballed Headcanon
Chapter Summary: Short/may be merged with previous; the aftermath of the meeting, paranoia and a bit of butting heads.
Warnings: Disgruntled prickly people.
The magistrate was the first to leave the room, with a brief, “You three. My office, half a bell.” at the three ranking there, something that left the two men looking significantly more nervous than Abylghota. Y'shtola had a quiet exchange with Louisoix in a language he didn't recognize; all that he caught was a weary frown crossing Louisoix's face and a nod before she begged out to return to the infirmary. As soon as Yda was given any sign it was clear to leave, she was out the door and gone; the lower-ranked of the guardsmen were left packing up the map and markers.
Thancred was more than happy to leave the table, at least getting to stand and move while they were cleaning up; Papalymo slipped out quietly, while Louisoix had stayed at the table, hands folded in front him thoughtfully.
It wasn't a big room, which made for very short range to pace, and far too easy to turn around and suddenly be reminded of how tall grown Elezen were.
“Can I help you?” His heart had done a few nice flips under a very neutral reflexive blink.
“You mentioned knowing the one responsible for the church?”
“Not very well – he left the area we lived in a few years ago, made a few too many enemies getting into fights.” It didn't seem like a good time to comment that the guy had taught several of them how to make snowballs before he'd left.
“We?” The question was level and humorless, and he really should've thought about word choice there. “So you do live with the one thief?”
He shifted, folding his arms and using it to glance aside; Louisoix wasn't moving, but was watching, and he caught that they had the attention of the inspector and his partner as well. “I haven't seen him in weeks, since a bit after this started, but yes.”
“How did you end up with him?” He knew the tone; level, businesslike, controlled, and he was completely being questioned, even if the guy was trying to word it like he wasn't.
“He found me in an alleyway when I was small after I was abandoned, and taught me how to survive. He actually did a lot of that for the younger ones that had nowhere else, sharing food and finding shelter; we were both students of Mattye's.”
“And you didn't know where he was when Mattye was murdered?”
He hadn't gotten the sentence out when there was the scrape of two chairs, Abylghota beating Louisoix to it by maybe a half a heartbeat and making full use of being the only one in the room able to loom taller than the other officer. “That's enough, Marcelain; we've already been over this, the fecking Ahriman was damn strong evidence for his story, and us fighting is exactly what it wants.”
“I thought voidsent would answer just about any idiot who could learn the right incantation and spill blood in its name.”
“That only applies to the weaker sorts, flyspawn, imps, and the like; I'm sure your aim is very true with a lance, but please, leave the esoteric to people who actually understand it.” The inspector's voice was pure, level acid. “Ahriman are difficult, and take a great deal more power to bring into the world than you seem to think.”
Marcelain glared at him around Abylghota; Thancred hadn't really expected the Inspector to weigh in on his side of this, but he was getting the sinking feeling it wasn't entirely a good thing right now.
And it didn't hold Marcelain's attention nearly enough, although he was at least aware of Louisoix standing behind him, something that did seem to be discouraging him being quite as forceful.
“Is there anyone else you know that might've decided to side with it?”
The answer caught for a moment, not managing nearly as well to keep control over his reaction. “I – don't know. There were a lot of people I knew that I didn't – know well enough to say.” Frederick had proven that neatly.
“Then do you have any ideas how it got its hands on your bunkmate's knife?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. “I don't – I don't think Ives even knew how, he'd lost it a few days before that.”
“Are you sure it was lost?” He knew the tone, the implied pressure; assuming he was lying to cover.
“I – yes.” Flinching wouldn't help, he had to stop shrinking, people like this took that as guilt, even if there was a temptation to step a half-step back and try to duck behind Louisoix looming behind him. Instead, he gestured at where the map was. “When they tried to get a safehouse, Ives was helping make sure they had supplies. I know he oft wasn't a 'nice' person, but he looks out for everyone, and – the victims are friends of ours, people we've known all our lives and hid out from storms with-”
“And my niece.”
He swallowed and did lean back unconsciously, met with a careful hand on his shoulder for a moment from behind.
“Don't think you're the only one that's lost something to this.”
The twitch when Abylghota laid a hand on his shoulder was a half-inch away from drawing a weapon, and it suddenly occurred to Thancred to tally that it wasn't towards a belt and the man could, in fact, easily have smaller blades concealed. “Listen, Marcelain – this kid's not as, uh, stabby as his buddy; he's spent the last few years actually trying to earn an honest living, a couple scams aside, and I don't think the Allseer would be looking about ready to throw a Silence on you for hassling him if he were a threat.” She tilted her head towards Louisoix; Thancred managed a half glance back following her gaze and Marcelain's to note that Louisoix looked entirely humorless and had just faintly nodded. “So why don't you go out, get something to eat and a drink, take a breather, and aim that anger at the thing that's been killing people both of you cared about, eh?”
Marcelain scowled, giving Thancred a very unhappy appraising look. “Fine. I will trust the Allseer's word on this.” It was grudging, and Thancred very clearly caught the underlying implication that he wasn't trusted.
“Once we're clear of the cultists and their master, I will see to it that you have what answers we can give.” Louisoix's hand had settled on his shoulder from behind. “And perhaps I will be in a position to better explain my decision in choosing him.”
He wasn't sure yet if he was accepting the offer, not until he knew more of what was going on, but he wasn't going to say that when it was giving Marcelain more real pause and the flicker of discomfort that came with information that didn't mesh with prior assumptions.
“I will try to show more care, Allseer.” He was trying to sound like he accepted it, but it was a little bewildered and not entirely settled; still, he bowed and left without any further trouble.
Abylghota waited a little after he was out of the room, watching to make sure he was out of earshot. “Try not to take it too hard; he means well, but his family's half from Ishgard, and he inherited the part of the Ishgard crazy that takes to disagreements and trusting strangers like you were asking them to swallow live puffers.”
The Inspector muttered something dark that was quiet, muffled under a hand, and not quite intelligible.
“Stabby?” There was no faking the confusion on that one; Ives carried more sharp things than he did, but he'd always known Ives to prefer running to using them.
“Eeeh....” She looked helplessly to her partner. “Alistair?”
“We're reasonably sure Ives is what happened to the last few smugglers and reavers Doesmega had in the city, with definite malice and forethought. We just never pursued finding solid evidence because....”, he trailed off with a vague hand gesture. “Doesmega. We don't know why he would've been after them, and it's a mystery I would honestly rather leave unsolved.”
He nodded slowly; if there were anyone Ives would've hunted down and killed in cold blood, that would definitely be it, and he couldn't say he would've tried to talk Ives out of that one if he'd known.
“There's a few other incidents where he's a suspect that are less defensible; most of them occurred in Marcelain's district.”
That sounded less likely, but he knew better than to start that argument.
“He did have one point – I doubt Frederick is the only one following it that you would know.”
And that was even less comfortable; he managed a weak hand gesture and fighting off another temptation to slink a little more with Louisoix between them. “I.... I know a few I'm sure aren't, but – I couldn't tell you one way or the other; if I guess blind I'll probably end up naming a few victims and missing a few that aren't.”
The inspector studied him wearily, and shook his head. “Reasonable, but I don't think it's that easy to say what lines someone won't cross.” He stood from the table, sliding his chair back in. “We have an appointment to make soon. Allseer”, he bowed, and left, Abylghota trailing behind him.
Thancred realized he hadn't even noticed when the two others had left with the map, the table bare and empty; he let out a long breath, shoulder slumping under Louisoix's hand.
“Are you alright?”
He gave a nod that ended up more numb than he'd intended.
“You handled yourself well, for the most part; I know this was a difficult thing.”
“Do you think they'll actually go along with it?” He had to crane his head a little to look over his shoulder, but he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to move just yet.
“If they don't, the magistrate may turn their skulls into desk décor.” Y'shtola had stayed quiet and still long enough that he'd almost forgotten she was there. “They may not like it, but they'll cooperate well enough.” She tilted her head, an ear swiveling slightly. “When did you find time to win over Miss Synghotwyn?”
He laughed nervously. “She found me over dinner last night; she wanted to know if I'd found anything in the books I, ah, borrowed that would be useful.”
Y'shtola covered her mouth, taking a moment to continue, giving Louisoix an amused glance. “I thought the timing on that was a little too convenient. Does Urianger know?”
“I believe he suspects, particularly after getting advice on ways to circumvent the security, but he hasn't directly inquired.” He could hear amusement on Louisoix's voice.
“Should I be worried?” He did finally shift, just stepping back and from under Louisoix's hand to actually be better able to see the both of them.
Y'shtola shook her head, still trying not to laugh. “Only if you're averse to learning swear words in half the dead languages on Hydaelyn, and need him sober too soon afterwards. He's surprisingly harmless, for some of what he's studied.”
He shrugged, giving an uncertain handwave; he was more than happy to not bring it up to Urianger any time soon.
“On a more immediate topic, what was your answer to that line of inquiry?”
“...That I didn't really know; I had barely gotten partway through one, the other was utterly unfamiliar, and that the only thing possibly vaguely useful was how many languages called them 'Shadowless'.” He gave a nod to the bright lights in the room; he wasn't sure whose idea they'd been, but the stark lighting was much harsher and brighter than many of the indoor rooms, and the crystal lamps were plainly not regular fixtures. “She found out I'd been around the church when that happened, and asked what I wanted here... I told her I wanted the guard to back off on hunting, because the cult had people that knew how to disappear, and would just run them in circles; that I wanted this over because I'd already lost too many friends. She said she'd use my skin as upholstery if I failed.”
Y'shtola nodded at it, finger along her chin thoughtfully. “The 'shadowless' was nothing she hadn't already heard from us; I imagine she was there to feel you out for herself, and apparently you passed. She was raised a pirate, and has … more of an appreciation for non-standard methods than most in the guard.”
“We're fortunate she is in a position to have a say in this.” While the comment fit perfectly well in the conversation, Thancred had the odd feeling Louisoix was only half present; Y'shtola didn't seem to be reacting, and he was getting the sense there was little the conjurer missed, which meant it had to be normal.
“I don't envy her having to be the peacekeeper for that.”
She rolled her eyes, an ear flicking irritably.“Inspectors Rigaud and Westin have had a rivalry since both of them were keeping patrols. It's cooled considerably over the years, but it rears its ugly head more when the two of them are stressed and things are going poorly.” Her expression softened after a moment's thought. “Although to be fair, their antipathy towards you is mostly your background, the company you've kept, and a sense of harshly learned caution; they both take their jobs seriously, and have too many lives at stake to be easily trusting, particularly under circumstances such as these.”
“Ives isn't as dangerous as he likes people to think – he's always said that fighting's too much of a risk to take if it can be avoided, and he hates getting cornered.”
“And the smugglers?” She gave him a questioning look.
He wrinkled his nose, expression souring. “...He'd stolen something from one of them; they grabbed a close friend of ours as a hostage, and when he got it back for them, they laughed in our face and said she'd been shipped off to be sold already, tried to grab us – we had to chase down a wagon on its way out of town to get her back, and ended up coming back with her, five children, and a couple others. I wouldn't have argued any more than the Inspector did.”
“And from the sound of things, they chose to look the other way on those killings quite easily.”
He shifted with a short nod; there was a distinct sense there was another point there that she hadn't quite gotten to.
“It may not be a familiar idea, but they do care about the people in their district – even Marcelain; they fear more victims, much as you refused to walk away for the same reason.” She sighed. “Sadly, I can attest that they would be far more tractable if it were only their pride at stake.”
He opened his mouth, but let it go with a quiet nod.
“You seem unsurprised that your friend had done something that dramatic without your knowledge.”
He half-frowned, shifting his weight. “We'd starve if either of us gave up our work; broad daylight is bad for his business, and there are few audiences on the street at night. He usually comes in after I've fallen asleep, and I end up leaving before he wakes; we meet around the edges, or when there's less to do for bad weather or the like.”
There was something else on her mind, but whatever it was, she spent a long time considering it without saying it; he was considering asking when Louisoix shifted, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a frown. Y'shtola turned her attention with a questioning look, one that was answered with a very disappointed seeming handwave.
“Nothing any clearer as yet, I'm afraid.”
The conjurers ears lowered; the best guess Thancred had was that the man's title wasn't something for show.
“I imagine that you're going to want to prepare before you go out tomorrow?”
He hadn't expected Louisoix's attention to be on him quite that quickly, or with that abrupt of a subject shift. “Ah – yes; I don't need a great deal, I have a good idea how to handle this without risking tipping them off.”
Summary: Snowballed Headcanon
Chapter Summary: Short/may be merged with previous; the aftermath of the meeting, paranoia and a bit of butting heads.
Warnings: Disgruntled prickly people.
The magistrate was the first to leave the room, with a brief, “You three. My office, half a bell.” at the three ranking there, something that left the two men looking significantly more nervous than Abylghota. Y'shtola had a quiet exchange with Louisoix in a language he didn't recognize; all that he caught was a weary frown crossing Louisoix's face and a nod before she begged out to return to the infirmary. As soon as Yda was given any sign it was clear to leave, she was out the door and gone; the lower-ranked of the guardsmen were left packing up the map and markers.
Thancred was more than happy to leave the table, at least getting to stand and move while they were cleaning up; Papalymo slipped out quietly, while Louisoix had stayed at the table, hands folded in front him thoughtfully.
It wasn't a big room, which made for very short range to pace, and far too easy to turn around and suddenly be reminded of how tall grown Elezen were.
“Can I help you?” His heart had done a few nice flips under a very neutral reflexive blink.
“You mentioned knowing the one responsible for the church?”
“Not very well – he left the area we lived in a few years ago, made a few too many enemies getting into fights.” It didn't seem like a good time to comment that the guy had taught several of them how to make snowballs before he'd left.
“We?” The question was level and humorless, and he really should've thought about word choice there. “So you do live with the one thief?”
He shifted, folding his arms and using it to glance aside; Louisoix wasn't moving, but was watching, and he caught that they had the attention of the inspector and his partner as well. “I haven't seen him in weeks, since a bit after this started, but yes.”
“How did you end up with him?” He knew the tone; level, businesslike, controlled, and he was completely being questioned, even if the guy was trying to word it like he wasn't.
“He found me in an alleyway when I was small after I was abandoned, and taught me how to survive. He actually did a lot of that for the younger ones that had nowhere else, sharing food and finding shelter; we were both students of Mattye's.”
“And you didn't know where he was when Mattye was murdered?”
He hadn't gotten the sentence out when there was the scrape of two chairs, Abylghota beating Louisoix to it by maybe a half a heartbeat and making full use of being the only one in the room able to loom taller than the other officer. “That's enough, Marcelain; we've already been over this, the fecking Ahriman was damn strong evidence for his story, and us fighting is exactly what it wants.”
“I thought voidsent would answer just about any idiot who could learn the right incantation and spill blood in its name.”
“That only applies to the weaker sorts, flyspawn, imps, and the like; I'm sure your aim is very true with a lance, but please, leave the esoteric to people who actually understand it.” The inspector's voice was pure, level acid. “Ahriman are difficult, and take a great deal more power to bring into the world than you seem to think.”
Marcelain glared at him around Abylghota; Thancred hadn't really expected the Inspector to weigh in on his side of this, but he was getting the sinking feeling it wasn't entirely a good thing right now.
And it didn't hold Marcelain's attention nearly enough, although he was at least aware of Louisoix standing behind him, something that did seem to be discouraging him being quite as forceful.
“Is there anyone else you know that might've decided to side with it?”
The answer caught for a moment, not managing nearly as well to keep control over his reaction. “I – don't know. There were a lot of people I knew that I didn't – know well enough to say.” Frederick had proven that neatly.
“Then do you have any ideas how it got its hands on your bunkmate's knife?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. “I don't – I don't think Ives even knew how, he'd lost it a few days before that.”
“Are you sure it was lost?” He knew the tone, the implied pressure; assuming he was lying to cover.
“I – yes.” Flinching wouldn't help, he had to stop shrinking, people like this took that as guilt, even if there was a temptation to step a half-step back and try to duck behind Louisoix looming behind him. Instead, he gestured at where the map was. “When they tried to get a safehouse, Ives was helping make sure they had supplies. I know he oft wasn't a 'nice' person, but he looks out for everyone, and – the victims are friends of ours, people we've known all our lives and hid out from storms with-”
“And my niece.”
He swallowed and did lean back unconsciously, met with a careful hand on his shoulder for a moment from behind.
“Don't think you're the only one that's lost something to this.”
The twitch when Abylghota laid a hand on his shoulder was a half-inch away from drawing a weapon, and it suddenly occurred to Thancred to tally that it wasn't towards a belt and the man could, in fact, easily have smaller blades concealed. “Listen, Marcelain – this kid's not as, uh, stabby as his buddy; he's spent the last few years actually trying to earn an honest living, a couple scams aside, and I don't think the Allseer would be looking about ready to throw a Silence on you for hassling him if he were a threat.” She tilted her head towards Louisoix; Thancred managed a half glance back following her gaze and Marcelain's to note that Louisoix looked entirely humorless and had just faintly nodded. “So why don't you go out, get something to eat and a drink, take a breather, and aim that anger at the thing that's been killing people both of you cared about, eh?”
Marcelain scowled, giving Thancred a very unhappy appraising look. “Fine. I will trust the Allseer's word on this.” It was grudging, and Thancred very clearly caught the underlying implication that he wasn't trusted.
“Once we're clear of the cultists and their master, I will see to it that you have what answers we can give.” Louisoix's hand had settled on his shoulder from behind. “And perhaps I will be in a position to better explain my decision in choosing him.”
He wasn't sure yet if he was accepting the offer, not until he knew more of what was going on, but he wasn't going to say that when it was giving Marcelain more real pause and the flicker of discomfort that came with information that didn't mesh with prior assumptions.
“I will try to show more care, Allseer.” He was trying to sound like he accepted it, but it was a little bewildered and not entirely settled; still, he bowed and left without any further trouble.
Abylghota waited a little after he was out of the room, watching to make sure he was out of earshot. “Try not to take it too hard; he means well, but his family's half from Ishgard, and he inherited the part of the Ishgard crazy that takes to disagreements and trusting strangers like you were asking them to swallow live puffers.”
The Inspector muttered something dark that was quiet, muffled under a hand, and not quite intelligible.
“Stabby?” There was no faking the confusion on that one; Ives carried more sharp things than he did, but he'd always known Ives to prefer running to using them.
“Eeeh....” She looked helplessly to her partner. “Alistair?”
“We're reasonably sure Ives is what happened to the last few smugglers and reavers Doesmega had in the city, with definite malice and forethought. We just never pursued finding solid evidence because....”, he trailed off with a vague hand gesture. “Doesmega. We don't know why he would've been after them, and it's a mystery I would honestly rather leave unsolved.”
He nodded slowly; if there were anyone Ives would've hunted down and killed in cold blood, that would definitely be it, and he couldn't say he would've tried to talk Ives out of that one if he'd known.
“There's a few other incidents where he's a suspect that are less defensible; most of them occurred in Marcelain's district.”
That sounded less likely, but he knew better than to start that argument.
“He did have one point – I doubt Frederick is the only one following it that you would know.”
And that was even less comfortable; he managed a weak hand gesture and fighting off another temptation to slink a little more with Louisoix between them. “I.... I know a few I'm sure aren't, but – I couldn't tell you one way or the other; if I guess blind I'll probably end up naming a few victims and missing a few that aren't.”
The inspector studied him wearily, and shook his head. “Reasonable, but I don't think it's that easy to say what lines someone won't cross.” He stood from the table, sliding his chair back in. “We have an appointment to make soon. Allseer”, he bowed, and left, Abylghota trailing behind him.
Thancred realized he hadn't even noticed when the two others had left with the map, the table bare and empty; he let out a long breath, shoulder slumping under Louisoix's hand.
“Are you alright?”
He gave a nod that ended up more numb than he'd intended.
“You handled yourself well, for the most part; I know this was a difficult thing.”
“Do you think they'll actually go along with it?” He had to crane his head a little to look over his shoulder, but he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to move just yet.
“If they don't, the magistrate may turn their skulls into desk décor.” Y'shtola had stayed quiet and still long enough that he'd almost forgotten she was there. “They may not like it, but they'll cooperate well enough.” She tilted her head, an ear swiveling slightly. “When did you find time to win over Miss Synghotwyn?”
He laughed nervously. “She found me over dinner last night; she wanted to know if I'd found anything in the books I, ah, borrowed that would be useful.”
Y'shtola covered her mouth, taking a moment to continue, giving Louisoix an amused glance. “I thought the timing on that was a little too convenient. Does Urianger know?”
“I believe he suspects, particularly after getting advice on ways to circumvent the security, but he hasn't directly inquired.” He could hear amusement on Louisoix's voice.
“Should I be worried?” He did finally shift, just stepping back and from under Louisoix's hand to actually be better able to see the both of them.
Y'shtola shook her head, still trying not to laugh. “Only if you're averse to learning swear words in half the dead languages on Hydaelyn, and need him sober too soon afterwards. He's surprisingly harmless, for some of what he's studied.”
He shrugged, giving an uncertain handwave; he was more than happy to not bring it up to Urianger any time soon.
“On a more immediate topic, what was your answer to that line of inquiry?”
“...That I didn't really know; I had barely gotten partway through one, the other was utterly unfamiliar, and that the only thing possibly vaguely useful was how many languages called them 'Shadowless'.” He gave a nod to the bright lights in the room; he wasn't sure whose idea they'd been, but the stark lighting was much harsher and brighter than many of the indoor rooms, and the crystal lamps were plainly not regular fixtures. “She found out I'd been around the church when that happened, and asked what I wanted here... I told her I wanted the guard to back off on hunting, because the cult had people that knew how to disappear, and would just run them in circles; that I wanted this over because I'd already lost too many friends. She said she'd use my skin as upholstery if I failed.”
Y'shtola nodded at it, finger along her chin thoughtfully. “The 'shadowless' was nothing she hadn't already heard from us; I imagine she was there to feel you out for herself, and apparently you passed. She was raised a pirate, and has … more of an appreciation for non-standard methods than most in the guard.”
“We're fortunate she is in a position to have a say in this.” While the comment fit perfectly well in the conversation, Thancred had the odd feeling Louisoix was only half present; Y'shtola didn't seem to be reacting, and he was getting the sense there was little the conjurer missed, which meant it had to be normal.
“I don't envy her having to be the peacekeeper for that.”
She rolled her eyes, an ear flicking irritably.“Inspectors Rigaud and Westin have had a rivalry since both of them were keeping patrols. It's cooled considerably over the years, but it rears its ugly head more when the two of them are stressed and things are going poorly.” Her expression softened after a moment's thought. “Although to be fair, their antipathy towards you is mostly your background, the company you've kept, and a sense of harshly learned caution; they both take their jobs seriously, and have too many lives at stake to be easily trusting, particularly under circumstances such as these.”
“Ives isn't as dangerous as he likes people to think – he's always said that fighting's too much of a risk to take if it can be avoided, and he hates getting cornered.”
“And the smugglers?” She gave him a questioning look.
He wrinkled his nose, expression souring. “...He'd stolen something from one of them; they grabbed a close friend of ours as a hostage, and when he got it back for them, they laughed in our face and said she'd been shipped off to be sold already, tried to grab us – we had to chase down a wagon on its way out of town to get her back, and ended up coming back with her, five children, and a couple others. I wouldn't have argued any more than the Inspector did.”
“And from the sound of things, they chose to look the other way on those killings quite easily.”
He shifted with a short nod; there was a distinct sense there was another point there that she hadn't quite gotten to.
“It may not be a familiar idea, but they do care about the people in their district – even Marcelain; they fear more victims, much as you refused to walk away for the same reason.” She sighed. “Sadly, I can attest that they would be far more tractable if it were only their pride at stake.”
He opened his mouth, but let it go with a quiet nod.
“You seem unsurprised that your friend had done something that dramatic without your knowledge.”
He half-frowned, shifting his weight. “We'd starve if either of us gave up our work; broad daylight is bad for his business, and there are few audiences on the street at night. He usually comes in after I've fallen asleep, and I end up leaving before he wakes; we meet around the edges, or when there's less to do for bad weather or the like.”
There was something else on her mind, but whatever it was, she spent a long time considering it without saying it; he was considering asking when Louisoix shifted, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a frown. Y'shtola turned her attention with a questioning look, one that was answered with a very disappointed seeming handwave.
“Nothing any clearer as yet, I'm afraid.”
The conjurers ears lowered; the best guess Thancred had was that the man's title wasn't something for show.
“I imagine that you're going to want to prepare before you go out tomorrow?”
He hadn't expected Louisoix's attention to be on him quite that quickly, or with that abrupt of a subject shift. “Ah – yes; I don't need a great deal, I have a good idea how to handle this without risking tipping them off.”
