Edge Town-City of Light

Leon flushes rapidly at the sudden surge of 'heat' from the Raith. His body goes stiff as interesting thoughts and images dance through his mind. His forced smile becomes somewhat dopey as he leans towards the vampire for a moment, before both her reigning it in and his sense of self preservation kicks back in. He jerks himself back red as a tomato and awkwardly scoots away.

Which was when Senior Councilwoman Liberty offered a lifeline.

"Yes, that sounds good," was his rather hasty reply.

Jarl, ever the bastion of diplomacy and good faith towards vampire-kind, kept himself thoroughly stone-faced as he felt the whammy. That's not to say it wasn't affecting him - the waves of lust did pertinently remind him that it had been years since he'd gotten any - but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

He turned to Sofia again, his cold blue eyes narrowed. "Do that to one of my friends again, Lady Raith, and they'll have to bury what's left of you in a shoebox."

Terry gave Sofia a big, shit-eating grin right back as he listened to Tim turn "re-iterate" into a threat. Bless that man. "Aw, I'm so touched by your concern for the little guy. You stay safe too, you hear? As Giovanni and the Madame could tell you, sometimes it's the big guys who go down."

Lady if the likes of you could make me back down that easy I wouldn't be in this room.

Tim's words provoked a seemingly genuine smile from Sofia, her eyes, framed by smoke-dark lashes, raking him up and down, appraising. The hint of danger remained, but it was measured—he knew how to play the game, and thus, was fun.

Jarl, on the other hand, followed Tim's measured statement by flipping the entire table. And then Terrence poured gasoline on it. Sofia's eyes shot cold fury, hand resting on the hilt of a pistol at her side. Her voice cuts through the room, sing-song and lilting, full of stung pride and contempt.

"I can hardly have the effect I have on men. This is me playing nice, Dane. You're a fresh-faced Knight who lost a Godhammer in his old job. You serve a child Jack without a proper heir for the mantle. A court of two. A shoebox? When you crawl to us because you have no allies, I hope your liege knows why. And Mr Talbot-"

Kringle clears his throat—either in defense of Jarl, or to reprimand him, but it's Martha Liberty who steals the floor.

"Enough! Lord save me from damn fools. Wizards, upstairs. The rest of you—try to put something ahead of your foolish pride. And to all a good morning."

Kringle pauses, bushy brows knotted in surprise, then, the stormclouds in his face lift, and he lets out a booming belly laugh.

"Well enough said. It's time to be gone. I hope none of you make it on the wrong list."

Still chuckling to himself, he waves cheerily, motioning for Jarl to follow.

Sofia Raith, still visibly fuming, follows.

"I will be in touch with your passports, and some contacts. Have a pleasant day."

When she reaches the door, she pauses, motioning for Alexander to follow as though calling a dog.

____________________________________________________________________________

Martha Liberty slides into a booth in the upstairs lounge, pulling out a battered old pipe. Her face is weathered and craggy as though it were made of tanned leather, filled with an utter, all-consuming tiredness.

"That was a..."

Carlos Ramierze slides in across from her, flashing a cocky smile. He'd been quiet through the meeting, though, when the confrontation had broken out, it's clearly been a struggle for him to hold his tongue. The fresh-faced junior Warden had grown warier—weathered by responsibility and conflict. Still, his voice was cheerful.

"A less clustered fuck than it could have been?"

Liberty pursed her lips, either amused, or annoyed. Or both.

"Quite." She replied.

Tapping the pipe to settle it, she stretched, bones letting out a series of ugly pops.

"Congratulations on not adding the White Court alongside Summer and Winter to your little list, Hochberg. There's some sense in there. Not enough. But some."

Carlos sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"Dios Mia, she's a bitch. Why do all the beautiful woman have to be soulsucking unfeeling monsters, Leon?"

Liberty chuckled.

"You have bad luck, son."

edited 18th Jan '17 5:22:30 PM by DrTentacles

"I see the White King sent his cool-headed diplomat to the party." Jarl's face twisted into a lupine grin again as he followed along with Kringle.

Leon's flush had mostly faded by the time the wizards had made it to the upstairs lounge. Still he adjusted his robes discretely as he grabbed a seat at the booth besides his fellow warden and technically commanding officer.

Doing his best to banish the still lingering thoughts he replied to Carlos, "Sometimes they're just soulless not soulsucking."

Tim raised an eyebrow and got a cigar of his own out of his jacket, cutting and lighting it in calm motions as he sorted his thoughts.

"In my experience, the White Court act like how an arrogant schoolyard bully thinks predators act." He explained after a initial smoke ring. "Occasionally you have to remind them that you are not a victim, or else they consider it implicit permission to do what they want. I wasn't trying to get on their list. I was reminding them those under our aegis do not belong on it either. With all respect."

He paused.

"Not that it was not cathartic, I admit."

edited 19th Jan '17 12:40:10 AM by 3of4

Martha Liberty exhales another puff of smoke, shooting Tim a very, very dry look beneath her silver brows. It has the distinct feeling of "don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs" attached.

"Cathartic for you. Two months of negotiations with the woman haven't helped my patience. Fact is, your "allies" goaded Lady Raith, or it wouldn't have gotten that far."

She quirks her lips, perhaps a little more amused with the situation than her words let on, but her voice remains weary, stern, and full of authority.

"Not that you had much say in that. Try to keep them from causing a similar incident with this Duchesse, Tim. After these negotiations are done, Las Vegas is White Court turf. We're keeping a Warden here, though."

Carlos leans in to Leon, trying not to disrupt the two older wizard's conversation, grinning conspiratorially.

"True, ese. There are some fine chichas in the Fae. You have to stay strong though—or else you'll end up wrapped around their fingers."

At Liberty finishes, Carlos clears his throat, trying to look professional in front of the older wizard, and continues in a louder tone.

"Keeping a Warden in Vegas, as well as ensuring the safety of the local paranet were our primary goals in the talks. That, and keeping another damn war from starting. Someone's gotta be the bigger man. Of course, if you blush that easily around the Inccubi, you might want to stay the hell of Vegas."

Liberty sighs, faith in the younger generations of the council probably dropping by the second, speaking again.

"Enough of that. Real reason I wanted this conversation was to give a warning. Kringle—Vadderung, whatever you want to call him is not our friend. I honestly believe that he wants the Tree sealed off, but with this...rogue god, and the whole Fae affair, all of Monoc is suspect. And that's not even touching their dealings in Chicago."

Liberty's face takes an especially sour cast at that.

"So realize that everyone has an agenda. And once you find this...Museum of stolen power, everyone might want a piece. The best case is the Council can study what's inside, return what is safe to any surviving owners, and catalog and protect the rest."

Continuing, she taps a finger on the table.

"Second, these...Poisoners? Rollo de Normandie knows best, but some of them could have been Council at one point. We haven't always been as organized or as "sensitive" when working in the larger world as we are today. Many wizard look to their personal power first. You've seen the earlier portions of the Council library? Ritual books missing or destroyed, deliberately sloppy archiving, artifacts scattered to become the personal property of Wizards who later become Warlocks."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Alexander's blood continued to boil as he rose, but he kept calm. Anger was a tool. A dangerous tool, certainly. By how Sofia Raith had responded to Terrence and Jarl's jabs, she wasn't totally in control—and she had a temper as well. Her control over the city—his city— was far from perfect. In the end, without the backing of the White King, she was just one woman.

He smiled, standing, refusing to allow her think she'd totally won. Dangerous, maybe, but his pride wouldn't allow it.

"It seems I won't be joining you, then. Best of luck—try not to fail utterly without me."

Alexander turned, pulling out his phone, a slight smirk forming on his lips as he moved to follow Lady Raith. His fingers hammered out a quick text to Terrence.

See you in Paris. Stay safe.

Jesse leaned over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the text, then sighed, voice soft and resigned.

"Well. It's an improvement."

Alexander shot his sibling a cheerful smile, a new spring in his step as he moved to Lady Raith's side. Her bodyguards had moved to flank her, two military-looking thralls. Her eyes were silver, fixed on Jarl's back, and full of fury.

Alexander swept a low bow, servile form belied by a mocking grin.

"Your kingdom awaits, Lady Raith. And I entirely agree. Jarl is *certainly* insufferable."

edited 19th Jan '17 9:49:01 AM by DrTentacles

Tim nodded. "I assumed as much. And many of those selfsame artifacts probably being right in this place."

What he not said, was that he was not so sure the Council of these days was as...above said tendencies as it was claimed. Wizard Cristos comes to mind He admitted with a sigh. The idea to hand all this to someone as like that...rankled.

"I will do as best as I can."

Leon lacked a decent counter jab to Carlos, and given the Senior Councilwoman clearly didn't want bickering to be happening, didn't even bother. Instead he ignored it.

"So, this is less ransack and more hostile takeover. I take it the Poisoners don't really have any allies in the accords? Or if they do the Council is prepared to deal with any backlash from that?"

Martha shrugs.

"Hazard of being a secret society. It's even possible they disbanded. Just because magical law doesn't cover them, though, doesn't mean mortal law doesn't still exist."

Terry waved a casual goodbye to Alex. "We'll muddle through somehow, I'm sure. It's France I worry about."

Finally getting up to leave after everyone else had gone off with their various factions, he checked the text he'd just gotten. Welp. Sighing, he sent off his own text to Jesse. I think he's about to run off and do something stupid. Good luck. Shaking his head, he walked out of the room. At least nobody'd actually taken up Kringle on that duel suggestion.

edited 19th Jan '17 3:41:17 PM by rikalous

Martha gives a wry half-smile, a rare expression.

"Best of luck—I have little doubt you'll need it. Give Wizard de Normandie my regards. If you happen to encounter an army—-consider other solutions than wholesale slaughter."

END OF PROLOGUE

_____________________________________________________________________________

Paris, France—A Townhouse◊ off the Jardin du Luxemborg◊

Several Days after the Conference in Vegas

Evening

Tim, Jarl, and Leon

Travelling by Way offered certain advantages to travel by plane. Certainly, one had to walk through dangerous, hostile, and Fae-infested sections of the Nevernever. A wizard, however, didn’t have to contend with over-zealous airport security, less than a foot of leg room, or crying infants who had no business being on an international flight. Or stopovers and delays. Even accounting the necessity of driving a car through Paris, all of the wizards managed to arrive at roughly the same time for their Council-planned meeting with Rollo de Normandie, their official Paris contact. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for Terry, sadly.

The Jardin du Luxemborg, a massive public park, was a popular hangout for French undergraduates from the nearby Institut d'Art et d'Archéologie and tourists alike, and even in mid-winter, the snow-dusted lawns were filled with people. The nearby streets were equally crowded—finding parking being a sort of minor miracle, and the nearby houses, though small, likely cost a minor fortune. It's around sunset, the air chill and sky grey with clouds, a light snowfall having persisted through the day.

Rollo’s particular townhouse was classic-style building wedged between similar houses, blocked off with a wrought iron fence, Every wizard on the street could feel the threshold though—it was powerful, a true home.

edited 21st Jan '17 1:53:02 PM by DrTentacles

Euro Disney◊, 20 miles outside the Paris Center.

Several Days after the Vegas Conference (not that she'd know)

Annette

Often described by French art critics as "the Chernobyl of culture," Euro Disney is nonetheless the most popular and frequently-visited resort in all of Europe. Ever standing in the shadow of its much larger and more popular American cousins, it is nonetheless a very child-friendly, happy little resort outside the bustling metropolis that is modern Paris. And, befitting its fashionably late attitude towards ride expiration, still carries a great deal of classics. Like the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, from which Anne and David emerge.

'''Charles de Gaulle International Airport◊, 16 miles northeast of Paris'''

Several Days After the Vegas Conference

Alex and Terrence

Coincidence is funny. Charles de Gaulle Aiport is one of the busiest airports in the world, servicing thousands of planes and tens of thousands of people every day. With multiple flights from each destination a day, you would think that, by sheer happenstance, finding the one person you know who ordinarily lives halfway across the world would be akin to finding a needle in a dozen haystacks.

Yet, lo and behold, Terrence and Alex find themselves in the airport's baggage claim. At the same time. Whilst one of them is supposed to be in Las Vegas and the other supposed to be in a townhouse in the city center itself. Funny how that works sometimes.

Annette Wagner is, in many respects, a quiet, mousey woman who didn't seem like she would go for anything loud or scary or even a little surprising. She stuttered, she fidgeted, and she certainly didn't seem the type to enjoy something like dropping from 199 feet in the air at a "free-fall". But looks could be deceiving. Very, very deceiving. Annette walked out from the entrance of the Tower of Terror ride with a bright, wind-swept grin on her face, looking up as soon as she was out in the sunlight again to look up at the ride.

Following behind her, looking much less pleased with everything, came her son. David, short for his age but unfortunately still tall enough for this ride, did not look so confident coming out as he had going in. Such as the way he had his face buried into his mother's arm.

"That was s-so much fun! Do you want to do—David?" Annette looked down at her burrowing son and decided that maybe he didn't want to go again. Her tone became a little softer. "Hey, we're on th-the ground now. You can open your eyes."

David shook his head and clung.

"I did t-tell you it might be too scary, sweetie..." she chuckled, "Are you okay? Do you need to sit d-down? Does your belly hurt?"

The only response she got was a small, muffled "...nuh-uh".

Annette smirked, just slightly, and tried to move her arm so she could see her sons. "Do you want t-to go on it again?"

David made an audible 'GULP' sound and finally lifted his head to look at Annette. His eyes were wide and terrified, lightly freckled skin going pale. "NO! No! I—I just wanna do something else!"

"Not because it scared you, r-right?"

"No!"

Annette chuckled again, and David's hold on her arm relaxed to him holding her wrist tight enough to keep hold of her, but not as hard that she could feel his nails. Ouch. She gave him a small kiss on the hairline which he grumbled about quietly. "Let's get g-going then, my brave little liebchen."

Intermission — Freiburg im Breisgau, Germany

Tim sighed in a small relief as he turned the key to his appartment and felt the familiar touch of his ward’s brushing over him. He only had a bout an hour of turnover time if he wanted to make the agreed time with his car over the autobahn. But for now, he needed a change of clothes and some other things.

And maybe five minutes outside of the mess his life was about to be turned into again.

Shoving open the door, he was greeted by…well. Nothing. The appartment was empty, the heating was turned down and neither lights nor candles were lit.

Well, would have been a bit too much to hope for. he admitted for himself, but the disappointment stung. After all, with both his and Kat’s shedule’s were erratic at best so the chance of her being at his home when he randomly showed up was virtually nil.

Still. Hope didn’t really care for odds.

And indeed, if she wasn’t here…Tim’s mouth broke into a broad smile as he noticed a small piece of paper on the dinner table.

Setting down his bag beside the door and putting his hat on the stand beside it, he stepped over and picked the note up.

Hey, not sure when you’ll read this. Had to go and visit the family back in Japan. Be back when I can. あいしてる

P.S: I got you something for the meantime.

Still smiling, Tim folded up the note and put it in the pocket of his jacket. Looking for what Kat had referred to, he found a metal cigar tube with a small pink ribbon tied around it that had been hidden under the note, he let out a laugh of appreciation and pocketed it as well, deciding to safe it for later when he had time to properly enjoy it.

Next, he grabbed a suitcase from the closet and went into his bedroom, packing a change of clothes as fast as he could as well as made sure his stock of magic reagents in his bag was up to his needs.

As he was in the process of doing that he couldn’t help but notice the large, armored closet he had only recently installed in his laboratory. The armored closet which held a slender, dark wooden staff, secured by strong metal holds and a seried of heavy duty padlocks.

Tim’s hand shivered for a moment and then…he turned around, took up his bag and closed the lab door behind himself, locking it thight as he went.

And without stopping, he picked up the suitcase, his car keys and left his home for another ‚adventure‘ ahead.

Sigh

Paris, France

Driving up at the estate, Tim stopped his car well short of the threshold and went to look for either of the teenage terror’s or a doorbell to ring.

edited 21st Jan '17 2:58:15 PM by 3of4

"Huh. For some reason I'd thought it would be bigger."

Leon stared at the townhouse shivering slightly at the cold. He wasn't quite as bundled up as he could have been though at least the odd weather issues in Vegas had made re-acclimating to the cold less of an issue. The cheap sweater he had grabbed helped a bit, but mostly it was his warden cloak keeping the chill off even if he didn't have any of his other combat gear on.

Instead it was all jammed into a duffle bag he had slung over one shoulder. Well except for his odd choice in belt buckles, that was surprisingly large, and studded with small ball bearings. A closer look would reveal rather fine engraving on the item as well. Though one probably shouldn't really stare that closely at his crotch unless you were buying him dinner first.

Leon brushed some snow off his cloak as he pondered waiting for Tim or Jarl to show up first, or to just go on and knock. Fortunately he didn't have long to decide because Tim appeared to have just arrived via car. That hat on that tall of a person was pretty hard to miss.

So, instead of heading for the door he walked up to Tim and said, "Yo."

Family vacations had been surprisingly rare for the Thorne family. Certainly, Alexander and the older of the siblings had travelled the world, and certainly, Giovanni had taken many trips, but Giovanni wasn’t exactly the “Disneyland” sort of person. Alexander had vowed, when he had taken control of the household, that he’d be different—that they’d take actual vacations, just for the fun of it.

Look at him now, visiting Paris, without Jesse and with his vacation plans consisting of robbing an ancient secret society, and spiting his elders. The irony was bitter.

Still—he’d try to make the most of it, for Bethany’s sake, at least. Alexander glanced around the massive terminal again, anxious despite the fact that his sister’s hand was clasped tightly in his own.

Bethany looked up with wide, innocent blue eyes, taking his wariness as a chance to speak up. Her voice was tired and bordering on whining, filled with that special sort of mania that a child that’s up far past the point when they should have slept has.

“Al, I’m hungry. When are we going stop and eat?”

Alexander sighed, looking down at his nine-year old sister. Bethany was tiny, slender, and adorable, with long, straight blond hair that fell to her waist. She’d been getting her way since the day she was born, and she knew exactly how to press the right buttons. She’d also been captured by the God of Lies a few months ago. He didn’t know what sort of scars that left on a child. She seemed normal, but he wondered.

Not of consequence, right now, though. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice soothing.

“There was food on the plane.” He sighed, pushing ahead toward the baggage claim. “Soon—when we get to the hotel.”

Bethany make a loud noise of complaint, deliberately dragging her feet so she had to slow down. Empty Night, she could be a pain. He bit his tongue, though, dragging out his phone with his free hand.

“Soon. I promise. Soon.”

No new texts for Jesse. That was good, right? His heart still hovered in his throat, full of concern. What if Sofia had—his fingers tapped out a quick message.

Landed in Paris. No trouble yet. Heading to Hotel. Wish I was armed. Bethany is tired. Are you alright?

A sharp whistle caught his attention, a slender, scarlet-nailed hand tapping his gloved hand. Lilaine had moved beside him, his younger sister dressed in a indecently short red dress, an escapee from a “too expensive for you” nightclub, her pumps putting her at the same height as him.

“Fratello, relax—Jesse’s fine. They’ve had to put up with you running the business for the past few months. Sofia’s probably a vacation. In fact, they’re probably welcoming the change.”

He glared at Lilaine, sliding his phone back into the jacket of his suit, his reply far more glib than he felt.

“A chance to stay in the casino without you stealing their dresses? I’m pretty sure our dear sibling was a little more glad to see one of us out of the house than the other, fratella.”

Lilaine pouted, adopting an expression of wounded innocence, but rather than continuing the argument, pointed through the crowd at a short, dark-skinned man near the baggage claim.

“A moment, my rude brother—though I’ll be happy to continue this in the car. Right now, I think I spy a certain mutt.”

Raising her voice, Lilaine jumped up and down, waving her hands wildly to get his attention.

“Terrence! Over here!”

Alexander fought back a grin, leading Bethany forward to greet his partner-in-crime.

“Ciao. What a surprise. I promise I’m not stalking you.”

edited 21st Jan '17 8:54:42 PM by DrTentacles

Intermission - Oslo, Norway.

Leif Eriksson stumbled into a dark apartment in what was, in European time, the dead of night. Immediately as he walked in, he felt a pair of blue eyes on him, almost shining a little in the dark. The wolf paced towards him, its silver mane reflected in the sliver of pale moonlight that shone through the windows. It reared back, prepared to jump...

...And then immediately dashed towards him, lifting itself up and pawing at his stomach, tail wagging. He almost lost his balance, but recovered fast enough to start rubbing the top of the massive apex predator's head.

"I know, boy, I know! I'm sorry! I had business that needed doing, and you couldn't come with me." By way of apology, he reached into his bag pocket and picked out a treat, holding his hand in front of the massive lupine as its behavior almost mirrored that of an excited puppy. "You can come with me on the next one, though. I promise."

His gear was already packed in a pile on his dinner table. His new gloves, the sword he'd recently finished enchanting, his bow (unstrung, as to avoid attention) and a quiver of arrows (good thing he wasn't going through an airport,) and several changes of clothes. Finally, there was a note, crumpled and weathered with age.

Have gone to France. Don't know when I'll be back.

Keep your chin up. Keep on fighting. Don't forget your siblings in the hunt. They'll fear you yet.

- Halfdan

His great-grandfather had set foot in Paris during the Second World War. Nobody knew why he'd risked traveling through Nazi-occupied Europe, or what he'd done there. At least nobody who would talk to him. Maybe he could find some answers now.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jarl had, in spite of what he considered his better judgment, actually considered the diplomatic approach this time. His foci were in the pocket of his jacket when he arrived, and while he did have a sword in a sports bag on his hip, he wasn't wielding it. He'd even let his hair down for a change, letting it sort of hang loosely around his face. He looked like a tourist.

He even had Tjalfe, the silver-grey wolf that accompanied him these days, on a leash. With any luck, he could pass off as a wolfhound or a Siberian Husky rather than the eldritch beast he actually was. At least to the tourists - he doubted Tim, Leon or this...de Normandie, were going to be at all fooled.

"I see I'm fashionably late. Sorry about that. Nevernever traffic was murder this morning. Almost as bad as regular French traffic."

Terry turned, gazing at the Thornes with the dead, soulless eyes of a man who's seen the dark side of international air travel. "Nah, I know your people just stalk plain and ordinary teenagers who turn out to have been gorgeous all along.

"Anyway, aloha to you all. So did Sofia decide she could spare you after all, or just that being in the same country as me and Jarl - and possibly my stuff," said with a baleful glare at the conveyor belt full of luggage, "was worse than anything she could inflict on you in Vegas?"

Lilaine bounced to stand in front of Terry, reaching out to put her hands on both of his shoulders and try to kiss both cheeks, a wide grin on her face.

"Lovely to see you here! Alexander skipped town—Sofia is furious, from all reports."

Alexander cleared his throat to try to amend the statement when his phone vibrated, a reply from Jesse flashing on the screen.

Empty Night, Fratello. It has been less than a day. I am well. Sofia made many threats, but she cannot directly harm me as long as I am playing nice. You, on the other hand, should be careful. Love.

He smiled, slipping his phone away again, then cleared his throat.

"Something like that. Her position in Vegas is far more unstable than she'd like to have you believe. If I can make a convincing argument that my presence here was vital to the success of your mission, she ends up looking very, very foolish."

Bethany tugged out of his hand, still tired, red-eyed, and cranky, but momentarily distracted by the sudden presence of Terrence. Her voice was full of excitement at a familiar place.

"Terr—I mean, Mr Talbot. Are you on vacation too!? The plane ride was terrible, and I'm starving and Alexander says we have to wait for the hotel to get food."

Alexander sighed, waving his hand at the assembling family.

"I couldn't leave Vegas alone, so Jesse is still there. Lilaine would try to kill Sofia, and Bethany and Aiden are too young."

Aiden popped his head out from somewhere behind Alexander, a gangly twink of a teen dressed in trendy, ripped clothing, name-brand headphones around his head.

"'Lo."

edited 22nd Jan '17 9:18:31 PM by DrTentacles

Terry smiled as he soaked in the Thorneness, letting his gaze travel from one to the other. He hadn't felt so at ease since he was back in the States. (Part of him noted that it was a family of mafia sex vampires he found so relaxing, but hey after going through security in two different time zones everything looks better in comparison.) "Really Alex, you're being very wicked to your siblings. Abandoning Jesse, starving Bethany, not letting Lilaine kill people, and making Aiden dress in tattered rags? Tsk, sir, tsk.

"Seriously though, it's great to see you all. You've doubled the amount of friendly faces in this country, heck, the continent. And it's nice to see you looking all right despite all the craziness that's been going on back in Vegas." To Bethany he added, "Mostly here on business, though I'm really hoping I can fit in some sightseeing after coming all this way. Say, if my bag shows up I've got some munchies in there that might get you to the hotel without fainting in hunger."

Terry's smile faded a bit as he glanced back at Alex. "The others' reactions when they find out you wanna get involved after all is certainly going to be a thing. Even with Sofia throwing her weight around the way she did, can't say how interested they'll be in keeping around the devil they know."

Alex and Terry

Suddenly, there was a loud coughing just behind Alex. Looking behind him, he'd find nothing...until he looked down.

He was maybe five foot five and built extremely compact - while most people conceived of White Court as elfin, haunting and somewhat inhuman, he looked somewhat overweight (albeit with extremely broad arms), had lost most of his hair except a spectacular black handlebar moustache, and was dressed like what you would expect from a Parisian citizen circa 1940. His small, narrow eyes, however, had little silver flecks in them as he looked at Alex with the appraising look of someone sizing up a newly-arrived hunter.

"Monsieur Thorne, yes?" The man's accent was quite heavy. "I am Django. You will be coming with me to see the Duchesse Chardonneau. You and the rest." He gestured to the other siblings. And Terry, who was probably cursing the good fortune that had reunited him with the Thornes.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Annette

Alas for David and Anne, their holiday joys were soon enough interrupted when someone suddenly and violently bumped into Anne. She - turns out it was a woman - immediately turned around and haved her hand, shouting "Pardon, pardon!" Unfortunately, most of her features were obscured by a beanie and a ski mask, but Anne could see a little bit of nut-brown hair peeking out from under the beanie, and the woman's amber-colored eyes were quite unique.

Though probably not unique or distracting enough to deter Anne's eyes from the fact that the woman was holding her wallet.

The burglar took one look at Anne, then at the wallet, then back at Anne, before loudly exclaiming "Merde!" and taking off in the opposite direction.

Annette gave a small, startled sound as she was nearly knocked over, height not being on her side in any case of being bumped into by somebody else. David let go of her arm in an instant to avoid getting caught between the two. She steadied herself, preparing a quick, definitely not passive-aggressive counter-apology, as her eyes landed on the person in a...ski mask? In Disneyland? What in the world.

She has my wallet.

It took Annette a moment to realize what just happened.

A person in a ski mask just stole my wallet in broad daylight in Disneyland.

What the fu—

"St-stop! Thief! Diebe!" Annette shouted, pointing after the woman as her eyes followed her into the crowd. She quickly glanced down at David. His eyes were wide with shock. "What's f-French for thief?"

"I don't know...?"

"Well g-great."

Annette took her son's hand and started after the woman, which, unfortunately, was harder with David unable to keep up behind her. She couldn't just let him go. No way in hell. But she couldn't let some random textbook robber get away.

Why the hell haven't I made a grease potion yet? That would be really helpful right now. Verdammt nochmal!

"Thief! Theif!! The w-woman in th-the ski mask!"

edited 23rd Jan '17 3:10:24 PM by KeiranGold

Alexander gave an exaggerated sigh, somehow reassured by the fact that he'd found Terrence so early.

"As poor manners as it is to wish ill fortune upon our "friends," I almost hope they're in dire enough circumstances to welcome my help when I arrive. Or else Jarl will be insufferable."

Aiden snorted at the rags comics, reaching behind him to flick his music back on.

Alexander felt the other White Court before he saw him—an uncoiling sensation in his stomach as his Hunger rose to life, cold filling his veins, and his eyes flickering a few shades lighter behind his faintly tinted glasses. His hand tensed, taking a step back to take hold of Bethany's hand again—she made a sudden squeak of surprise.

Well. The man wasn't a Raith, to be sure. What he was remained to be seen. Aside, perhaps, from old.

Still, even an old White Courtier had to feel intimated as Alexander, Lilaine, and Aiden's hunger all flared to life—not an assault, but a test of the man's strength. Like all predators.

Lilaine swayed out from behind Alexander, her eyes flicking up and down the man, appraising.

"You sound very sure of that, Django."

Alexander coughed—if the man was here, he had to feel secure he somehow had the upper hand. Outright offending him was a poor idea.

"I'd be delighted to meet the Duchesse. However, it's been a long day—I'd prefer to be presentable, and ensure my room at the hotel hasn't been given to someone else."

_____________________________________________________________________________

As Jarl, Leon, and Tim all gathered on the townhouse's front step, there was a sudden clamor of movement from inside. The front door burst open, and a gaggle of college students walked out, talking excitedly amongst each other. Behind them, holding the door was a broad-shouldered woman, also of the right age to be a student, dressed in tight-fitting athletic clothing. She had short-cropped blond hair, and an elfin face.

When she caught sight of the wizards outside, she cursed softly in french, then gave them a cheery wave, ushering them inside the wrought iron fence.

"Bonjour, êtes-vous invités du soir du professeur?"

edited 23rd Jan '17 3:17:29 PM by DrTentacles