Graham Hoete presenting Temuera Morrison with a traditionally carved Boba Fett helmet
@young-master-is-lost kia ora e hoa, the keldabe kiss was based off the hongi, which is what is seen here! it is a traditional māori greeting, in sharing the breath of life
A Mystery Thriller where the detective is a fae elf in disguise and their partner is a human who is very inexperienced with sleuthing.
the fae is admittedly not the best at pulling of this human disguise thing. they whisper questions to the buildings where crimes happened instead of asking witnesses. they sniff (and sometimes lick) items taken in for evidence. when they question a suspect for answers they always get a little too intense.
however the human has no idea that the detective is fae and thinks all the crazy weird ways they discover clues and leads are just things that all detectives do.
Murder of Paisley Cawthorne, Entry 1
Detective Levitas Sylvan and I arrived at the scene of the crime at 4:00 pm, half an hour after contact from the constable. Levitas listened close to the silver windchime in Miss Cawthorne’s kitchen; evidently, her final fall would have disrupted the air somewhat, and it must have still rung faintly. Far too faint for my own ear, but then I am merely Lev’s apprentice, and he has well earned his fame. They proclaimed her death to have occurred at 1:27, give or take a few minutes. The police said 1:15, and, to my surprise, Levitas deferred, saying the silver may have confused victim and perpetrator. Still, I have noted both times for reference.
The likely murder weapon is a heavy, cast-iron pan. Detective Sylvan recoiled from it, and I cannot blame them. To wield such a tool to end a life is positively barbaric - Not that any murder could be called civil, making beasts of otherwise fine and upstanding men! …yet I grow sidetracked; such strong, biasing feelings are not befitting of an aspiring, impartial detective-to-be. They bade me lift and turn the pan, and grimaced as they looked. It’s odd: three months prior, they spotted the culprit from a cudgel, yet this stumped them; perhaps it is not so easy to distinguish human impressions amidst the pan’s long history of cooking animals - and is not man himself an animal? (I speak biologically, of course, not of philosophy). Myself, I could see only that, from the stain of blood, it was in fact the murder weapon - or used shortly thereafter to deceive us. Not terribly useful, though Levitas offered praise for this observation. Every mote of information is better than its lack, I suppose.
Oh, but fortune soon turned for us, as they spotted an oak in the yard. Oaks, they’ve said, are watchful and reliable, and I have seen them investigate such trees before, with ever-fruitful results. Levitas is unerringly polite with them, a habit I’m certain the police would love for them to adopt when interacting with their boys in blue, and no more than two minutes had passed when something caught Lev’s eye: a single footprint, where our suspect-to-be freshly tripped over a root, and a patch of clothing! I was excited for such a lead, near champing at the bit for a chase. Luckily for the truth, however, Levitas retained their own self-control. “The oak’s memory is absolute,” they said, “but her vision limited, and imperfect. We may be after a culprit, or a witness, and we must not confuse the two.”
Well! It is a good thing, then, that they will be conducting the interrogation. I say this not out of- ok, not purely out of jealousy, but, were I to believe in the supernatural, I would suspect them capable of mind-control! I jest, of course, but their calm, cordial manner, plus that imposing air about them always does the job. I can only dream of one day carrying my words such that, as Levitas does, merely speaking the person’s name would set the innocent at ease and the guilty quaking in their boots.
