With Alexander and Terry off to do who-knows-what to their captive—it sounded so horrible to think that way, but Annette couldn't find another way to look at it—Annette started cleaning up after herself. She blew out the candles, put the left-over soup under some clingfilm and set it in the fridge, and threw away the gauze that had been on her hand until a moment ago. She didn't hear anything from the other room...so...maybe things were going well? He was cooperating? Or he was dead. Annette shuddered at the thought. Yet, here she was, complicit in assault, kidnapping, framing, and even potentially murder.
She'd only ever done one of those things before.
Annie...
Taking her mind off things she decided to leave the hotel room entirely, and return to her own. All the lights were off and she couldn't hear anything at all. Which was good. She couldn't hear David doing anything in his room, so he should have been sleeping. Hopefully then he wouldn't know how late they'd been out. Wasn't that a role reversal.
Annette crept down the hallway and indeed find him sleeping soundly. He had his pajamas on (as opposed to yesterday) and his hair was still damp from what she guessed was a bath. He was cuddled up with his plush Siamese cat and in a deep, deep sleep. Annette took a seat on the bed next to his—which was sans a Bethany, thankfully—and watched him quietly. It was a strange feeling to know he could sleep so well, even without her being there. Knowing that she'd done some awful things this evening while he was absolutely unaware. Maybe he would know she'd done something wrong when he woke up. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe she could keep him in the dark for as long as she worked for Alexander, and everything would be fine.
He'd live a completely normal life. Except...
The alarms went off when I was gone. There'd been no reason for it. It happened at Jacqueline's house as well. Something set them off. Something like magic that's too strong to control. Like a child just growing into his abilities. Like you were, when you were little.
Annie, you can't be so blind.
Annette bit her lip so hard that it hurt. She should have been exhausted, but she still had another hour on her last coffee potion. She should have been in pain, but her healing soup had removed all the aches and cuts from earlier. She should have felt so much worse. Instead, it was just her chest that ached enough to make her eyes squeeze tight, like she were in pain.
No. David is normal. He's going to live a normal, happy life.
"He's not like me," she spoke with her exhalation, so softly that David didn't even stir.
She then got up to leave, only glancing back at him as she was about to close the door behind him. In his sleep he cuddled closer to his cat. At the same time, she saw Alexander Thorne's kitten curled up on his feet. It gave her a momentary pause. Then she shut the door.
...normal. Yeah. Right.
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander nodded brusquely, taking the notepad from Alain, making sure the handcuffs were on securely, then leaving the room. As the door clicked closed behind him, he looked back, frowning with deep frustration.
"Infuriating man." He growled to Terry.
When he returned to the main room, he waved down Deliah, stalking back over to the bar.
"He wasn't cooperative, other than suggesting we try to ransom him back to Samson. I'm still considering it." He said, by way of greeting. "If he tries to escape...stop him."
edited 11th Mar '18 8:40:25 PM by DrTentacles
World's Cutest Direwolf
Terry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ransom's probably our best bet. We can't hold him indefinitely, not in a Paris hotel room. At least with a ransom we can bleed Samson a bit before cutting him loose."
Glancing around, he added, "Anne took off somewhere, I take it?"
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander grimaced, nodding back at Terry.
"Unfortunately. Ms Wagner's probably with her child." He replied. A thought struck him. This could be another chance to see what his new alchemist was capable of. "I'm going to go see if she can give us an edge here."
And with that, he walked out to the hall, going to find Ms Wagner.
Annette was in the middle of the hallway, her head still swimming slightly, when she noticed Alexander coming towards her own hotel room and stopped in her tracks. "Oh. Hello Mr. Thorne. Did..." she looked him over with a cautious, nervous glance. No blood on these clothes—asides from what had already been there—and he still look as lustrous as before. So either the man was still alive and unharmed, or he was really good at destroying evidence. Either or. "...you need something? I was c-coming back. David's already asleep."
After another moment she added: "Did you ch-check on Bethany already? She's not with d-David, so I assume she's in h-her room?"
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander smiled, exhaustion creeping into his expression now that he was away from Alain.
"I wanted to finish business first. I don't like having work on my mind around Bethany." He confessed. "Samson's thug was unhelpful. He's actually loyal to his boss, if you can believe it. I'm looking for a way to knock him out for a bit. And if you have any ideas on how to cause Samson some more trouble in the future, that would be very helpful."
edited 12th Mar '18 11:14:01 AM by DrTentacles
Annette's smile softened a little. Not wanting to mix the current moon with his sister...that was surprisingly relate-able, for a vampire. Now he said he needed the guy unconscious? "Mmm. Well, I d-don't have any prepared recipes for a sleeping potion. If I did I would have probably, um, d-drank one myself by now. But. I can bottle sleepiness or exhaustion, and try to put it in his system? If I got enough he'd be out like a light."
Exhaustion or tiredness were tricky to capture, since they were more of a physical ailment than an emotion. Lust and pain had a similar problem. It'd require somebody with enough of the required feeling to take from, but once it was taken, their body's response was completely unknown. Some people might feel artificially awake, others could fall asleep on the spot. Annette had never needed or wanted to take her own exhaustion, at risk of passing out. And she had already taken her own wellness tonight.
"...I would, um, n-need to take it from somebody that isn't myself, though."
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander hesitated, his face showing his uncertainty at her suggestion. He hadn't realized she'd need to perform magic on someone else.
"Between Terrence and I, there's enough exhaustion to go around." He said. "You're the expert, however. Maybe just another bad luck draught?"
"That would need more time to soak than we h-have. And I would need something of his that he'll k-keep on his person, and not quickly g-get rid of once he's gone." Annette pursed her lips together. "But for future use, it might not b-be a bad idea..."
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander nodded, faintly annoyed that the alchemist had to come up with a potion for some random consierge but didn't have one ready for an actual threat. He was going to keep a handle on his temper, however. He swore it.
"Very well. I'm going to go text Samson about his missing man, and then prepare to meet the Poisoners." He said, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out his phone. Still standing in the middle of the hallway, he cracked open the back, replacing his sim card with a burner, then began a text message to the number Alain had given him.
His message was simple: A photo of Alain, bound in handcuffs but clearly alive, that he'd taken in the car, followed by few words.
Stray Found: Changeling/Gallic Caucasian Male, 22-30 yrs old, surly demeanor. Willing to negotiate return, 24hrs
edited 12th Mar '18 1:38:52 PM by DrTentacles
T&A
It took a minute or so, but Alex did eventually receive a text:
Tomorrow. Have business tonight. Place des États-Unis. Details to follow.
Still not embarrassing enough to stan billionaires or tech companies.
Annette didn't look at what exactly Alexander was texting, but it still put her on edge to know he was messaging the person who was out to kidnap her. She scratched lightly at the back of her neck. "Um...do...you want me to c-come along for that?" her voice was quieter than before. "The meeting with the, um, p-Poisoners. Not. Not Samson. I don't think I w-want to be anywhere near him, if that's alright with you."
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
K.
Alexander smirked, swapping back his sim card, then sliding his phone back into his pocket. He turned back to Ms Wagner, realized that he hadn't really expected her to come to the meeting. Or expected that she might want to come.
Well, he couldn't think of a reason why she shouldn't. He was already exhausted, annoyed, and hungry. She could hardly create a greater faux pas than he was probably going to.
"If you'd like." He replied with a shrug. "Personally, I'd suggest trying to catch up on sleep, but if you find that impossible, you might as well."
He frowned, realizing that he needed to start preparing.
"I'm going to find someone pretty at the bar. Pack up some necessities." He looked down, realizing that he was still nearly shirtless, only dressed in the blood-stained, opened-fronted white button-down, and pants. He cleared his throat. "And maybe find some nicer clothes."
edited 13th Mar '18 1:01:05 PM by DrTentacles
The Wildest of Ronins
"Ghosts don't just go after wizards. Maybe your presence set this particular one off for some reason, but they don't just focus on magical individuals. Also, while you might not be in the best shape to go back, you were blindsided and didn't know what the issue was. With foreknowledge, Tim and I should be sufficient, even if we assume we can't find a capable priest or other expert to deal with them."
Leon frowned. "Of course, the cops are probably still covering the site and any other emergency personal that might have been called. So even though I'd like to deal with that first, doing so might be difficult. I might have earned some good will from Proteau but we probably don't want to stretch that too far at the moment."
He shook his head.
"Alright fine, the club next."
He begin getting up to leave, and head off to see how Fortune was doing, unless anyone else had anything else to discuss.
Click Click Boom Boom
Just a harmless giant from a foreign land.
Tim gave a miniscule shrug. "Or maybe simply an Ectomancer we can subcontract the job to. Paris is a big and old city, there ought to be someone capable."
"You can reply to this Message!"
Cephalopod Lothario
Leon
When Leon entered the sitting room that Fortune used as her quarters, it had been neatly cleaned, futon folded into the couch, and her various sewing projects nowhere to be seen. There was only a single trace that someone had been living there for the past few days: a packed canvas duffle bag that Leon didn’t recognize.
He could make a pretty good guess who it belonged to, though. As well as whose clothes were probably stuffed inside it.
Well. The fact that the bag was still there meant that she probably hadn’t left yet. All of the students were in the sparring rooms, which Fortune had avoided. That left the top two floors.
As Leon neared the second-floor landing, he heard a soft sound coming from one of the rooms ahead. Fortune’s voice—singing, though he couldn’t understand the words. He could tell was something classical in French, though. And as he crested the top of the stairs, he realized it was coming from the closed door to his room.
edited 14th Mar '18 11:30:26 AM by DrTentacles
"Oh, before you g-go put on a...shirt," Annette couldn't help but giggle weakly at Alexander's realization that he was still under-dressed, though the reason why still made her uneasy. "Do you mind t-telling me, um, one thing?"
It had been bothering her for a little while, but given that she was debating going with Alexander and Terry to visit them, now was a good a time as any.
"Who...are the Poisoners?"
Cephalopod Lothario
Alexander
Alexander muffled a snort of amusement at Ms Wagner's reaction to realizing that he hadn't changed yet. Yeah. She was definitely not ranking on the hetro-scale if it took her that long to pick up on a half-dressed White Court. His amusement faded to surprise, however, when she pointed out that he hadn't actually said much about his job in the city at all.
What is my job here? Empty Night, I can barely remember my plan. Did I just come along because everyone told me not to?
"Huh. I suppose I haven't really clued you in. Maybe I didn't want to overwhelm you." He said, trying to distract himself from his own doubts. "Maybe I'm just naturally secretive."
He leaned back against the wall, drumming his fingers at his side, somehow managing to make the slouch like rehearsed, like he was posing for a photoshoot.
"Short version, they're an ancient French secret society who have...or had...a trove of stolen magical treasures. The longer version might be a sit-down conversation."
I wonder if White Court just kind of do the semi-nudity thing naturally. Maybe I can ask Liliane to demonstrate...
Annie. Annie. Bad. No.
Annette's focus honed back in on the topic at hand thanks to Alexander's hilariously blunt way of explaining why he hadn't told her about this apparently important thing that he had been trying to arrange all day—hell, the reason they'd gone to the bar in the first place hadn't just been to mess with Samson, but for these mysterious Poisoners. "Eh, s-same." She helpfully added to his secretive comment, her smile looking more like a smirk, but only by a little.
Then she got her explanation, and despite how truly, deeply exhausted she knew she should have been by everything else that had happened tonight, her eyes widened and faintly glittered with excitement. A secret society of magical people? With a trove of stolen magical treasures, dating back to who knows how long ago? That...sounded incredible. Annette hardly knew anything about the magical world aside from what she had been told by her mother, or what she'd learned by trial and error. Mostly error. A group of people who had dedicated their lives to collecting magical artifacts and treasures might have some books or other information among their belongings.
"Wow...um, w-w-well, if you really don't think I'd be a burden," she darted her eyes away, fingers twirling and tangling in her hair, "That actually sounds r-really, really cool. Are you about t-to meet with them? Do they have something you need? D-Do you think...they...might be interested in you, or something like th-that?"
Maybe they even had somebody among them who did alchemy, like her.
T&A - Les Invalides, 7th Arrondissement
The 7th arrondissement. Home to the French nobility and higher class since the 18th century. The military heart of Paris, and home to its most lasting monument - the Eiffel Tower. Also, home to the Hôtel des Invalides, hosting the military musem of France and, of course, the Dôme des Invalides.
Of course, the museum - and the Dôme - was closed at night, and nobody was going to argue with a man in a camo-pattern uniform with a FAMAS pointing at you, but Alex, showing the invitation, was waved through the large steel gate with Anne and Terrence in tow.
A tall, baroque church, built in the image of Saint Peter's Basilica, marble columns flanking the entrance, towering over a vast courtyard. At the center of the Dôme, dominating the center, was a tall mausoleum, flanked by marble statues in the Ancient Greek style. The tomb of Napoleon I. In the day, the light from the windows flanking the dome would fall on the grave of France's greatest general. In the dark, it was somewhat less imposing, and the large windows showed little but the Parisian night sky, the lights of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. What little light was to be found inside the Dôme came from ancient, candlelit chandeliers, adding to the dubious mystique of the tomb, home not only to Napoleon, but many of his successors as France's great military heroes.
One door, marked with Défense d'entrer - 'no entry' - was open, the letters dimly revealed by candlelight, and Alex heard voices inside.
Still not embarrassing enough to stan billionaires or tech companies.
World's Cutest Direwolf
Terry held up a cautionary finger before leaning casually against the door. Always nice to hear what your enemies were saying behind your back.
Just a harmless giant from a foreign land.
Tim, deciding to get some quiet time before the evenings...activities, once again retreated to Rolo's library. Putting his jacket over the back of a chair he lit a cigar - trying his best to shove the other contents of the cigar case out of his mind for now. It wasn't that it was not important - oh so very important - to him but...
Stay focused. A distracted Wizard is a dead Wizard. He snapped at himself mentally. She'll not thank you if you get yourself killed because you fretted over...the development in the middle of all of this mess.
Puffing a ring of smoke, he got up, trying to get his mind off pondering all...the things he wanted to ponder instead of the ones he had to ponder. Walking up to Rolo's bookshelves, he tried to distract himself by reading what kind of books the older Wizard kept around.
Until his eye fell until one small book with the simple title "Un millier de beaux noms de bébé du monde entier"note and everything just went gooey in his head.
The struggle in his mind lasted for maybe ten seconds before he, gently, pulled the book out of the shelf and sat himself down, crossing his legs and slowly drew in his cigar as he flipped it open in his lap.
Some things you simply have to read like everyone else did.
"You can reply to this Message!"
The Wildest of Ronins
A brief surge of intrusive thoughts told Leon to just barge into his room despite knowing Fortune was in there and probably somewhat interested in privacy at the moment. Instead he knocked on the door.
"Fortune, its Leon, is it alright if I come in?"
Click Click Boom Boom
Cephalopod Lothario
Leon
The bedroom door swayed open with a soft creak at Leon’s knock. Through the crack, he could see Fortune standing at the far side of the room, framed in the soft blue light from the window. She was dressed a lot like when he’d first seen her—a rumpled grey hoodie and a knit black beanie cap, though she’d replaced her jeans with skin-tight black leggings, leaving her femininity unmistakable. She was engaged in some sort of dance or stretch, eyes closed while she stood “en pointe,” one leg folded up, against the other as she balanced on the very tip of her toes, humming accompaniment with each motion. It looked more than a little painful.
She jumped at the sound of the knock, her eyes snapping open, swaying and almost losing balance. She dropped to her feet with a soft thump, a flush rising in her dark cheeks.
“Leon! J'étais juste...I was just.” She stumbled over her words, eyes flicking down into the center of the room, where the Linthe brush lay, undisturbed, in the circle formed by the silver chain. There was guilt in her expression.
“...Warden.” She began again, her tone cool and distant, trying to take control of the situation.
edited 20th Mar '18 10:25:20 AM by DrTentacles
Jarl
Jarl shrugged. "They're ghosts. They'll attack us because we're wizards. As long as nobody with magical talent walks in there, the ghosts might be docile enough, but considering this-" he gestured to his bandaged hands "- I'm gonna recommend you don't go there. Not unless you happen to have depleted uranium somewhere on your person for just such an occasion."
Still not embarrassing enough to stan billionaires or tech companies.