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01-19-2015, 12:57 AM
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
As Meg insisted the Gods should be called down, Gaucho internally wondered if that was still the correct thing to do. The Earth God had tasked all of Helovia with finding the murderer ... but surely they expected more than mere circumstantial evidence to be thrust at their feet? Would they have some means by which they could judge who had done this? Perhaps peer more skillfully into Gaucho's mind? But were that the case, and were it also the case that they cared as much as this assembled group at getting to the truth then ... why hadn't they done it themselves? Surely by whatever manner they would judge Gaucho's innocence they could judge all of Helovia in only a matter of minutes, routing out the killer immediately.
But they hadn't. Why hadn't they?
Perhaps this was some test that they were tasked with ... some ... errand that they were all obligated to try and complete. Not only that, but the idea of calling down the Sun, wasting his time with such nonesense (for he would see immediately that Gaucho wasn't the killer), was disheartening to the stallion who devoted so much of his time and energy to serving him. How could he knowingly subject his deity to a round of questioning to which he already knew the answer, just for the sake of this group?
His nose stretched towards Meg's shoulder now, exhaling softly into the muscles that pulsed with every word she spoke. When was the last time Gaucho had ever been defended so loyally? So valiantly? Normally he was at odds with the world - with his family - regardless of how often his plans turned out to be beneficial. Were they in another circumstance he might have voiced his appreciation, but now - with whatever my side vs your side was happening here - he could not. He wouldn't weaken their position. However, he could show her that his thoughts were on her and of her. As his nose lowered, Mara slithered down his broad face and up her wither. The snake - quite long now - draped herself across the mare's back like some sort of bizarre silver dorsal stripe. Her head rose upwards so that she could still see and provide sight for Gaucho. However if a fight was going to take place here, should he back taken away in chains, he would ensure that the two female's who would come to his defense would at least have each other.
...but if we were to build a court of our peers as Torleik suggested, do you think that we would find you guiltless.
It was one of those strange moments that Gaucho felt himself overwhelmed with the desire to open his mind again to Ophelia so that she could know his thoughts. Or perhaps to ask the God of the Sun to allow him the ability to communicate telepathically, in a way that transcended words. He had much to say on this topic and yet ... yet he already knew whatever words he managed would fall short.
Did he think an assembled court would find him guiltless? Of course not. The ad hoc court before him had not found him guiltless, why should a larger one? But that he was found guiltless did not mean that he was guilty. They seemed miles apart, especially now. What Helovia would judge to be the case, and what was in fact the case need not always align. Uncomfortably, Gaucho shifted still saying nothing. Ophelia was too rational to suggest surely that democracy was the right answer here? That somehow a congregated court, not present to see the evidence and already with doubt cast upon him, would somehow transcend their biases and reach and epistemically justified conclusion?
However the mare was not finished speaking, and as her words continued Gaucho felt himself relieved by them. His blocky skull nodded.
"Maybe gather evidence -" Then, looking at the burning body of Psyche, qualified: "or what is left. Gaucho know Hotaru take things ... take clues from bodies for Goddess. Maybe she have evidence still. Gather evidence and then call Gods."
