Raju settles on the floor so he can rifle through his notebooks. If it changes Fitzjames outlook on the town at all — it'd certainly changed Raju's — then it's important make sure he's getting it right. "That month was... a little like this one," he says as he looks. "But that creature was making us feel... more. Anger, fear, it was all more. It didn't hit Francis and I too hard, but there were a few fights that ended in deaths. Cannibalism, too. Not only Hickey. Ah, here: A boy, Kieren, who admitted to eating a woman, and admitted he'd done it before. That there was something different about him. There were the defence cases. There was Hickey, who admitted he gets hungrier than he'd used to — another one of those 'gifts', he can run longer too — he claimed self defence, admitted to eating the man after."
He looks up from the notebook, grimacing at Fitzjames before his gaze goes distant. "There was going to be a vote on what to do, but first we had to wait for a parade of of self righteous speeches and self-congratulation for telling us how forgiving we all ought to be. Francis — it hurt him to come. He hadn't healed. It set him back afterward, trying to stand for so long. He tried to tell them what Hickey had done before in sound mind, why he was dangerous, why they should take care, and got talked down by a child who treated him like a fool for being too emotional about a past he needed to put behind him. Not a single—"
He looks back down with a sharp inhale, shaking out his hand, and smothers a flame trying to grow on a corner of the page the notebook is open to. It leaves a charred edge behind — not the first on this particular set of pages — and Raju closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. He takes another. One more and his hands curl into fists as he concentrates, and the fire that wants to grow elsewhere springs out behind the one in the fireplace instead. He opens his eyes again, avoiding Fitzjames gaze in case the man is watching him.
"There wasn't a single consequence for anyone at all," he goes on, focusing on closing the notebook and putting it in the pile he'd gotten it from. "Hickey can get away with what he likes, and he knows it. All he needs to do is give them a reason to look away while he does it."
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He looks up from the notebook, grimacing at Fitzjames before his gaze goes distant. "There was going to be a vote on what to do, but first we had to wait for a parade of of self righteous speeches and self-congratulation for telling us how forgiving we all ought to be. Francis — it hurt him to come. He hadn't healed. It set him back afterward, trying to stand for so long. He tried to tell them what Hickey had done before in sound mind, why he was dangerous, why they should take care, and got talked down by a child who treated him like a fool for being too emotional about a past he needed to put behind him. Not a single—"
He looks back down with a sharp inhale, shaking out his hand, and smothers a flame trying to grow on a corner of the page the notebook is open to. It leaves a charred edge behind — not the first on this particular set of pages — and Raju closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. He takes another. One more and his hands curl into fists as he concentrates, and the fire that wants to grow elsewhere springs out behind the one in the fireplace instead. He opens his eyes again, avoiding Fitzjames gaze in case the man is watching him.
"There wasn't a single consequence for anyone at all," he goes on, focusing on closing the notebook and putting it in the pile he'd gotten it from. "Hickey can get away with what he likes, and he knows it. All he needs to do is give them a reason to look away while he does it."