Edge Town-City of Light

Annette had only raised one child in her life, and not even to his teen years, but she could still spot a little stinker when she saw one. Bethany was precious and very, very sweet. And was lying through her teeth. Even if David had been awake enough to speak to Bethany she knew her son would have most likely hid under the covers and only squeaked at her until she left.

But never let it be said that she would call a child out on their bullshit on an empty stomach. Especially when the other explanation—that she'd just come in here on her own—wasn't much better than the lie.

"That's n-nice of him," she chuckled quietly, half-turning to face Bethany while her hands still focused on pancakes, "You can have the first one, if you'd l-like. David will probably need a moment to get up anyway."

The soft sound of scurrying footsteps, a small surprised yelp, and the door of David's bedroom slamming shut indicated that she was right. It took a lot of self control to not crack up laughing.

God save my son, he has to socialize before noon. Some vacation that is.

Annette

Bethany let out an almost comical sigh of relief at not being called on her story, walking up to the look at the food with the same, wide-eyed, cutsey expression It must have worked wonders on her siblings, and parents, if they were around.

"Thank you!" She proclaimed. As the door slammed shut, Bethany turned to look, startled, and Annette saw her face fall, sudden hurt replacing the manipulative cuteness.

Bethany swallowed, the smile returning to her face, though it wasn't reflected in her eyes, and it looked fragile, cracked.

"I can help. I could bring David his food. Do you think he'd like that?"

She's...really trying to make friends with David. That's so much cuter than those puppy eyes.

Annette's smile softened, and, tentatively, she placed her hand on Bethany's head and ruffled her hair. David liked it when she did that, so maybe she would too? Or not. Anne really only had one point of comparison. "Don't...take it too personally, dear. David is just very, um, sh-shy. Especially around—" she hesitated, snickered softly, and said in a quieter voice, "—girls." Was that mean to her son to say that about him to another child? Maybe. But she didn't want Bethany to feel like she'd done something wrong.

"Right now, let him wake up a b-bit more. Then try to t-talk once he's settled down?"

Jarl

Jarl stopped moving when he saw just how scared the girl was. There was no point in getting any closer, she might just bolt away.

"I said I have some information about your father." He repeated himself, hunching down to scratch Tjalfe behind the ears, trying his very best to appear as not-dangerous as possible. The oversized lupine immediately planted himself flat on his ass and looked at the teenage girl with his very best innocent-puppy-dog eyes. No giant apex predators here, no sir.

Annette

Bethany didn't shrink back from Annette's hand, looking up at the older woman, eyes still shining with hurt from David's sudden rejection.

"Really?" She asked, a faint tremble in her voice, brows scrunched almost with almost comically intensity. The little girl was clearly worried that Annette was just trying to spare her feelings.

When Bethany confirmed her lack of deception, a faint giggle bubbled from her throat, spirits restored.

"He's afraid of me? That's dumb. I'm nice." She stated, putting her hands on her hips confidently.

edited 20th Sep '17 6:03:20 PM by DrTentacles

"I know you are, Mausebär." Well, in theory. You are a baby succubus. "He just needs a little t-time to recognize that for himself. Try talking to h-him about fantasy books. Do you like to, um, r-read?" Annette took her hand back and flipped another pancake onto a plate, then started working on a third. From the back room she heard fumbling footsteps and the sound of something of moderate weight falling over. Suitcase? Sounded like a suitcase. He must have knocked it onto the floor getting new clothes. Was he really that nervous?

My son has worse social anxiety than I do. Fuck.

Annette nodded to the plates. "Eat up for now. I'm sure you b-brother must be wondering where you went, since he wasn't very...um...coherent last night."

Jarl

The girl wasn't buying it from Tjalfe. Big, threatening, home invader overrode doggy cuteness. She didn't scream yet, though.

"Comment connaissez-vous mon père? Que lui est-il arrivé??" ^note  How do you know my father? What happened to him?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander

Alexander gave Freeloader a long, world-weary look. It was the look of a man without coffee. The look of a man with a throbbing hangover, naked, and barefoot, several thousand miles from home, who had had a Pretty Good Night, and didn't want to ruin it with a Pretty Weird Morning.

"Behave." He growled, wagging a finger at the cat, as though it cared one whit about his commands.

He moved his blearly gaze to Terry's note. "Good work. It sounds like it was a productive night for both of us. Now..."

He looked around the destroyed room.

"Pants. Coffee. I'm going to find my siblings, and get them to help. Housecleaning's getting a nice tip. Not my tip. The kind that's green."

edited 20th Sep '17 9:23:11 PM by DrTentacles

"I mean sure, but uh why were you libromancing baby books last night instead of say stuff on necromancers or the Poisoners."

Leon paused, as he thought about it, waiting for Tim's response. The obvious answer was Tim was going to have to be dealing with a baby soon. But rather it was his or someone else's was entirely unclear. Either that or he was just planning on having kids and he thought now was a good time to read up on that while they were in the middle of all sorts of Parisian bullshit.

"Yeah if your tip's green you probably want to get that looked at."

Alexander

"Are you offering, Terry?"

Alexander smirked, then strolled off to go find his siblings.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

edited 22nd Sep '17 8:44:27 PM by DrTentacles

"Already got all the look at it I needed, thanks," Terry called after him. "I'm just gonna stay here stroking this pussy."

Tim lowered the newspaper just enough to level a started at Leon.

"It is nothing. Just some things in my head getting mixed up" he said, slowly, his tone being flat.

He liked Leon, but discussing...what went on in his head right now with him seemed a bit bizarre. Leon still seemed so very young to him, despite of what they had been through.

Alexander

"You lost her, Aiden?" Alexander asked, his voice on the edge of shouting. Panic and anger in equal measure pounded his chest, compounded with a lovely, mounting headache from his hangover and lack of coffee.

They were standing in the doorway of Aiden's room, his brother only dressed in jeans, the form of a unconscious man slumped on the bed behind him. One door over, Bethany's room rested open, his little sister's bed clearly slept in. But empty. No trace of her. He didn't usually take this harsh of a tone with his siblings, especially with a mortal in their presence—even a unconscious one. But this was Bethany.

"How did you lose our sister? Lilaine told you to watch her!" ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wizards Two

Just in time for Tim's response, heavy clumping of footsteps came from the basement, and a moment later, Michele and Bruno strode into the room, both dressed in workout clothes, and both a bit on the red-faced and sweaty side.

Michele sauntered past the wizards, grabbing a cup of coffee, while Bruno gave Tim and Leon a meaningful—and very curious look.

"So. Um." He started, French accent extremely heavy. "How—Um. Did you fight our Professor?"

edited 23rd Sep '17 8:44:31 PM by DrTentacles

"No." Tim answered, while flipping the newspaper page. "We merely had a spirited exchange of viewpoints."

Jarl

Right. See, this was the problem with sending him off by himself. He was a terrible liar. And besides that, she needed to know. Maybe not the whole truth, but enough of it. Her father might not be coming home, if the Senior Council was in a sour mood. He wasn't going to leave her wondering why. It wasn't right. And fuck the Masquerade if it was standing in his way.

Every wizard eventually learned how to cast little cantrips. Spells of convenience that required a sliver of power and a fraction of the concentration needed to work the force of creation. In Jarl's case, he opened his palm as cold, blue, luminescent mists swirled around it, covering the air for a few seconds until an ice sculpture appeared in his hand. It looked like de Goff. Tall, lanky, wearing a transparent version of the pinstripe suit he'd worn to the lecture. The detail was fine enough that it even had his moustache.

"Your father is in trouble. He kept a journal somewhere in the house that might help clear his name."

And also help avert disaster. But, you know, one thing at a time.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex, Terry, Anne

"I swear, she was sleeping when I left!" Aiden's voice was halfway between panicky and shouting, walking that razor's edge between indignant anger and the knowledge that he had screwed up, and in a big way. "I made sure she was safe and sound and fast asleep, but apparently she must've woken up and gone walkabout."

"Besides, Lilaine dumped her on me so she could go party. Are you really going to get on my case for doing the same?"

"Guys, guys, be cool," Terry said, setting Freeloader down, regardless of any objections raised, to head over to the Thorne brothers. "This is why you have me here. To be sober and have a nose like a bloodhound. I'll find where she went, and I'm sure she'll be fine."

Underneath Terry's placating words the man was terrified. (In stark contrast to his normal state of being Terryfied.) No way could finding Bethany be as easy as he was making it sound, not in a city where fucking rich kids playing at the occult led to a game of tag with a boss zombie. No, she had to have been snatched up by a rival vampire or a warlock or some obscure French fairy tale about what happens to disobedient children. And as for finding her, Terry knew better than anyone how easily a scent trail could dead end. Anything from dragging Bethany into a car to dropping her down a portal to literal hell could cut it off and leave him with no idea what had happened or where to go. Nevertheless, he set to following her scent out the door, hoping against hope they could actually find her safe and sound.

Leon eyed Tim for a moment. Not entirely buying the man's cover story, but clearly getting the message that he doesn't want to be bugged about it anymore, and simply shrugs. "Whatever."

Shortly after that Bruno and Michelle arrived. He nods in greeting towards the two as he continues fixing breakfast. And pauses as he contemplates how to respond to Bruno's question. Tim had his own way of putting it, which probably wasn't in accurate. "Eh. Most of the hubbub was with more paint monsters. Speaking of which, I still need to name mine. Anyone got any ideas?"

He gestured with a free hand towards the jar on the table with the still mini paint creature just standing in it.

Jarl

The girl's eyes, still puffy, red, and wide with fear, went even wider at Jarl's magical display, a soft gasp of surprise drawn involuntarily from her lips. In spite of her fear, she leaned forward, staring with disbelief at the ice-projection of her father.

"Comment? C'est le père." ^note  How? That is father. She whispered.

Her eyes flickered back to Jarl, suspicion and fear again replacing the wonder. This was an insane bombshell that had just been dropped on her. Her father's disappearance, the police at her house, Jarl's break-in. Magic. Too much to process all at once.

Jarl saw her mind retreat away from 'everything, numbness replacing the cascade of information. Her bright blue eyes took on a glassy cast, no longer focused on him, looking through him, as though she were staring into the distance, and she shrank back into her corner of the couch, a ball of limbs in a blue and white checkered school uniform.

"Un journal? En haut. Dans son étude. Avec l'autre officier." ^note  A journal? Upstairs. In his study. With the other officer. She muttered, not really speaking to him. It sounded like she replying to a question from a teacher in class.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wizards Two

Bruno stared at Tim, a frown forming on his face normally cheery demeanor turned sour by Tim's reply. He swallowed, brushing back his sandy blond hair, and looked about to reply, but his eyes widened, and he turned to face Leon when the other wizard chimed in.

"Paint monsters? The news are calling it a terrorist attack. There are injuries...and a few people missing. What really happened?"

Michele continued to make coffee behind them, but Leon and Tim could sense her interest, in the way her posture stiffened. No one responded to Leon's question about naming his, as it seemed they were a little preoccupied with the details of the battle. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander

The cold chunk of ice in Alexander's gut refused to go away, even with Terry's offer of help. The last time this had happened...Vegas. Their house destroyed. Loki.

Not again.

"I don't care what Lilaine did. This is Bethany! She's nine! We're in an unfamiliar city, surrounded by strangers, and you had a job. I expected better from you." He growled.

Alexander took a deep breath, trying to calm down, head pounding. He was angry at Lilaine as well, but she'd wasn't there. Aiden was.

Alexander should have been watching Bethany as well.

He swallowed, a hard, ugly lump in his throat.

"Alright. Terry—what can you smell?"

edited 26th Sep '17 8:59:44 PM by DrTentacles

Jarl

Of course there was another one. Jarl felt his heart sink when he saw the girl's expression. She'd been dealt a bad hand, and it was only going to get worse unless he did something.

"Hey," he said, not taking his eyes off the girl even as he moved to the upstairs area. "Once I have the journal, I'll explain the details, OK?"

He eyed Tjalfe, who understood the non-verbal command just fine. The big wolf moved to sit beside the girl, not touching her, just being present. It also meant he could probably sneak upstairs with a minimum of fuss.

Why oh why had he never learned to ward himself.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex, Anne and Terry

At this point, Aiden had stopped replying, just folding his arms and glaring at Alex before his eyes shifted to Terry, a look of desperation in them. Even if he wasn't going to admit it in front of his brother, he was nervous about Bethany too.

Luckily, Terry's sharpened werewolf senses worked just fine even in his usual human flesh-prison, and it didn't take him long at all to catch a scent that smelled an awful lot like nine year-old girl.

edited 26th Sep '17 2:54:42 PM by math792d

"Rampant debauchery, mainly," Terry said. Dear god, the things his poor, abused nose was subjected to. "But also small child, which is usually a bad combination, but under the circumstances I'm pretty happy with. Tracking now." Grinning to keep up the unworried facade, he followed the scent out the door.

edited 26th Sep '17 3:10:49 PM by rikalous

Meanwhile, Annette's hotel room was untouched by debauchery or fear for a child's safety. Mostly. Once the pancakes had been finished—one for each person in the hotel, including Edith, and then a few spares—Annette had asked Bethany's help in setting the table. It was a much less colorful table than she was used to. Hers at home had a nice checkered table cloth and the dishes had pictures of flowers and the cups were various brightly painted things. All this hotel had was white plates, white mugs, clear cups, and a plain ebony table. Lame.

I'm surprised Bethany has pink pajamas. Even her siblings all dress in black and white. Taking the vampire thing too far, maybe?

Still. Bethany was sweet and helpful. Annette even showed her which toppings David liked so she could offer them to him when he emerged. One topping in particular, rather. "Here, David loves wh-whipped cream," she offered the can of to Bethany with a small smile, "If you offer it t-to him, it might help ease him into a, um, c-conversation. Usually I make my own. But this will do. What do you like on your p-pancakes, dear?"

David was dressed and ready, but was hesitating at the door to the hallway again. His head was still achey and he wasn't sure he could deal with Bethany being here...why was she even here, anyway? Had his mom invited her? Uggh, he couldn't remember anything clearly from after he went to bed. He needed to ask. And there were pancakes—he could smell them, and he was starving. So drawing in as deep a breath as he could David went out into the living area, glanced at Bethany for a split second, and then sat down diagonally from her with his head down.

"......g'mornin'."

Annette chuckeled and took a seat next to him. "Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well? Oh. Bethany is joining us for breakfast, b-by the way."

David glared at his mother from behind his bangs like he was asking 'No, really?!'

Annette put a bite of pancake in her mouth so he wouldn't see her grin.

Jarl

The girl didn't reply as Tjalfe padded over to her, still staring off into space. It seemed, for a few moments, as though she'd completely disconnected from Jarl, her eyes wet with tears.

As he turned to go, he heard her murmur.

"Ne pas blesser l'officier. Il était très poli." ^note  Don't hurt the officer. He was very polite.

Tim carefully folded up the newspaper and laid it before him. "Someone tried using a magic artifact without considering the repercussions nor understanding the consequences on himself and others." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the tiredness in his bones. "We were at the scene and intervened. Without attempting to aggrandize us, the reason there are no dead last night was in all likelihood to our presence."

"As for the 'paint monsters' I will let young Leon demonstrate. I suggest as Emess."

Jarl

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He just hoped the stairs didn't creak too much as he tried to reach the upstairs area as quietly as he possibly good. He didn't want to end up in another situation with a clear line of sight - if the other cop got too agitated, using the sleep spell wouldn't work, and he really didn't want to add 'assault and battery of an officer' to his list of criminal charges. It was probably not easy to slip out of that one.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex, Terry and Anne

As he followed the scent out the door, Terry picked up on another. Smelled an awful lot like...pancakes? And it was coming from the same direction as the scent of nine year old.

Either this was Terry's lucky day, or some fae shit had gone down. One or the other.

Fae shit. Definitely fae shit. And going in blind too, dammit. The only connection Terry could think of between things that go bump and pancakes was from Hellboy, and he doubted anything that said you could raise a demon to not be evil was going to be particularly reliable. Well, nothing to do but keep following and hope against hope.