Edge Town-City of Light

Alexander

Alexander let Jacqueline pilot the boat, taking a seat across from her and Ms Wagner, an open crate of weapons in front of him. The police had bigger fish to tonight than him, and it was dark enough he wasn't worried about being seen from the shore.

He hadn't been expecting to run into Tim and Leon this quickly. Had it been up to him, he wouldn't have revealed himself until he had enough leverage on the Poisoners to force their cooperation. It had gone better than he'd expected, though. They hadn't attacked him, and it seemed as though they were willing to share information.

Well. Better him, than whoever Sophia Raith sent to represent the White Court.

He had a feeling when he ran into Jarl, though, that the it was going to go significantly less amicably.

"We're not bringing these back to the hotel—my phone is dead, but once we get to the car I'll look up a storage locker we can rent." He mused aloud. Jesse's flight should be due soon as well—once again, it looked like he wasn't getting to sleep until morning.

The sudden burst of lights and sound from the boat caught Alexander off guard. For a moment, he thought someone had opened fire—either the police, or the smugglers. But no—those were—

Fireworks?

The smugglers wouldn't have set off Fireworks.

Tim.

Alexander frowned, less than amused. They'd made a deal with the smugglers. Even if the letter was intact, the spirit had certainly just been broken.

So much for my good word...

Alexander reached into his coat, pulling out his wallet, and a twenty dollar bill, both in response to the fireworks, and Ms Wagner's question.

"Thank you for reminding me. Consider this a small bonus for leaving a good impression on Wizard von Hochberg."

For some reason, the cat decided to take his outstretched hand as an invitation, abandoning the string, and leaping up onto his lap, letting out a surprisingly loud trill as it smashed its head into his stomach.

Alexander tried to ignore it.

"There's a dane who goes by "Jarl" we'll probably run into, now that we've met these two. In fact, you've already met his sister. I think a similar impression on him would be easily worth 50, especially if it looks like an accident."

Edited by DrTentacles on Dec 24th 2018 at 5:57:32 AM

"Honestly, working-class murderghost would make a nice change from the more indiscriminate breed I usually run into. Wave one of the Thornes' credit cards at them and they'd probably disintegrate on the spot."

Annette stared at the twenty.

"...you're t-tipping me for spraying him with acid?" She spoke in utter dead-pan, and then, without so much as blinking, she pluck the twenty out from his hand and tucked it into her pocket. "This isn't how you're g-going to keep paying me, r-right? Random amounts for h-hitting people you don't like with potions?...because unless you h-have an unlimited amount of them, or I c-can repeat certain people, th-this isn't going to work out."

Now she could understand more of why Tim and Leon weren't so thrilled to see him. But Alexander was Alexander, and at least this behavior lined up with how he appeared to treat most people around him. Though he hadn't punched them. Hell, he'd even taken hits trying to help them.

So they must be his friends to some degree.

...to the degree that he liked seeing them in pain.

"If he's anything l-like his sister, I'm going to give that a 'not for a fifty, Mr. Thorne'."

Jarl

"I said working-class hating murderghosts. As in, they tried to kill a couple of construction workers through would-be industrial accident."

Alexander

"On the contrary, I think I'd offer you a bonus if you started repeating targets." Alexander quipped back. "Especially if you could convince them it was an accident. Consider it!"

When their dingy finally pulled up along a pier just outside the Basin Le Arsenal, Alexander stretched out his legs, letting out a groan at the soreness and faint chill that had set in. He'd need to feed again. Soon. He swallowed, glancing at Jacqueline, wondering for a moment...

Probably not.

Alexander shook his head, brushing the thought away, and stood, picking up the larger weapon crate under one arm, and slinging the other around the kitten, holding it against his chest. Surprisingly, it didn't protest—instead, it nuzzled in deeper, vibrating slightly.

Manipulative beast.

"My thanks for the lift, Madame." He said to Jacqueline, stepping lightly up onto the pier. The street above was alive with lights—and if he wasn't mistaken, swarming with police. It was doubtful she wanted to get any closer to cops than she had to. "I hope you had as much fun as I did. Let's do it again soon."

He set down the box of weapons, holding out a hand for Ms Wagner.

"Shall we?"

Edited by DrTentacles on Dec 27th 2018 at 10:19:22 AM

How 'bout no.

Annette wobbled as she exited the boat, looking back at Jacqueline and offering her a hand out as well. Once they were both on the pier she paused, looked at Alexander and his cat—it was buzzing like a fuzzy sock full of bees, that was adorable—then drew in a small breath. "...if you h-have a place to go, you, uh, d-don't need to do this, but I can give you the hotel I'm at, and my r-room number. It's a really big room. Suite. Thing. So you would have your own space..." she swallowed her nerves, fighting to retract this insane in-the-moment proposal. She still barely knew Jacqueline. It could all be some elaborate ruse.

But the bruises and cut didn't look fake. And what else could she do? It was her fault that this had happened to her, so this was the least she could offer her.

David might even forgive her if she said yes.

"Maybe they don't hate the working class, then. Maybe they have beef with the construction industry in general and there weren't any architects handy to murder.

"We'll need to determine this scientifically. Grab people with the relevant traits, parade them through the site, see who suffers an acute case of ghostmurder. All exceedingly ethical, I'm sure."

Now On Slightly Smaller Boats

Jacqueline looked at Anne with a raised eyebrow, like she wasn't quite buying the whole situation herself, or wondering if this was some kind of angle. She closed her eyes and let out a long, slightly shaky breath, her breath misty in the cold Parisian air. Then she started sobbing a little.

"It's as good a place as any. I can't go home, and I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else I'd want to go, anyway." She let out another breath, this one sounding more defeated, resigned. "I'm not relishing a visit to Mother, and I feel as though she would want me to stay forever. So I'm coming with you." She nodded firmly, probably trying to convince herself as much as anyone else that this was the decision she was making.

"These things though..." Jacqueline hesitated as she patted the crate of guns. "I know a place you can put these."

Eventually, the two boats diverged, drifting down the Seine until they eventually were split apart.

Leon and Tim were informed that Officer Gage could not, for the moment, be reached. He was busy raiding a yacht full of contraband that had been stopped dead in the Seine, and would be indisposed for some time. It was safe to go back to Rollo's and sleep.

Meanwhile, it was no rest for the wicked - quite literally - as Alex had one bit of business left to conclude, with a sibling waiting for a pickup at the airport. Not that anything could possibly go wrong there.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jarl

"Feel free, my dude, as long as I don't have to get involved with it. I've had to stop two attempted murders already this month, and one of them was on the Big Man, I'm not intentionally going to facilitate more attempted murder by supernatural critters."

Edited by math792d on Dec 31st 2018 at 12:27:14 PM

Tim entered the Room he was staying in at Rolo's, discarding both his coat, hat, jacket and necktie on an available chair. He really needed a shower. And maybe a bite to eat.

And he really, really wanted to try and hit Kat on the phone again, Time Zones be damned.

He'd just lie down for a moment. Just to regain a bit of energy for all of that.

Just really quick.

*Snore*

Leon was unsure if he was thankful he didn't have to debrief or give a statement or whatever the cops would have wanted to call it. Between his ribs the late night and the use of magic on a boat without foci, he was perfectly ok with not having to do that tonight. Hopefully the successful apprehension of a smuggler yacht would earn the group some favor with the cops even if they hadn't actually found the murderer. Which he wasn't happy about not going after, but he wasn't stupid even if they found Krell tonight, they weren't really in the shape to fight a neuromancer with ghoul cronies.

He ditched his cloak, sweater, boots, and shirt as he entered his shared dorm room with Tim, before curling up under the covers. His ribs hurt quite a bit as he shifted off his side and on to his back proper. At least the bruising from the bullets was only really on the front. Though he wouldn't be surprised if his ribs had been cracked too. Still, the pain didn't keep him from sleep long.

Oh. Oh no, crying person. Crying person. Annette reached out on instinct to place her hands on Jacqueline's shoulders, giving them a small, supportive squeeze as she accepted coming along with them. It wasn't a permanent solution—getting rid of Samson was—and it wasn't out of the goodness of Annette's heart that she made the offer in the first place. It was selfish. But it was something.

"Okay. Let's...g-get those somewhere secret, and g-get you somewhere safe."

Alexander

You’re offering what!?

Alexander barely resisted the urge to tell Ms Wagner she would offer no such thing. Even if Alexander had been considering propositioning Jacquline a moment ago, that would have been a temporary thing. Staying over what out of the question. First, the rooms were getting crowded enough already, especially with Delilah, and second, he still didn’t entirely trust her yet.

“There’s no need for that, Ms Wagner. I’ll see for a room of her own.” Alexander said, his voice utterly polite, trying not to grind his teeth. “Call it a marker for future ventures.”

Somewhere less expensive than my our current rooms.

"Shall we?"

...oh, now you're gonna say something reasonable?

Annette felt her shoulder tense before she registered that she had turned around to look at Alexander, eyes wide and somewhat shocked by how quickly he had shot down her offer to Jacqualine. It wasn't like she would be sleeping in his suite. He had stuck Edith in hers with no problem earlier—when he had something to gain from it, the cheerful little voice in her head added.

But he wasn't wrong to be cagey towards a person who until hours ago was Samson's page. Annette was too.

But...still.

"Y-You're going to turn her away?? When she's in the same spot as I was? You knew me for even less t-time than I've known her before you offered me a room, but when somebody else needs th-that same charity, you...?" her voice came out in a rush of white fog, faster and harsher than she even expected it to. Why was she getting so defensive over this? She didn't care.

...or, well, she did, but not for the right reason.

The stress is getting to you, Annie. You haven't rested enough, you aren't on the right mind. Drop it.

Breathe, Annie.

She drew in a slow, shaky breath, and averted her eyes to the wet stones beneath her feet. Everything was cold and terrible still. But even after breathing, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Not yet. "You had n-no problem letting Edith and Delilah stay," while you were high as a r-rocket, "And Edith slept in my suite, too. Just. Please, she's going to be hunted down the moment Samson hears about this, and unlike us, he has no reason to hesitate...before...b-before he tries to kill her."

((OOPS AH DOUBLE POSTED))

Edited by KeiranGold on Jan 4th 2019 at 2:45:25 AM

"Only plain vanilla attempted murder for Jarl, got it.

"Is the big man we're talking about the one in the red suit with the sack? Because I'd expect him to be able to handle his own dang murder attempts. It's not like anything can take him until we've got wolves eating celestial bodies and shit."

Alexander

Alexander’s eyes snapped to Ms Wagner, pale and cold like chips of ice. Was she actually trying to berate him? In front of Jacqueline? He’d given her a five-star hotel to stay in, offered her a job, protected her for Samson herself, and not only did she assume he was throwing Jacquiline out to the wolves, but she thought raising her voice to him was going to help her case?

What the hell was wrong with her?

“Pardon me, Ms Wagner?” He started, tone frigid enough to make the temperature in the air seem to drop a few degrees. “I offered her a room. I’m not certain how that’s the same as ‘turning her away.’”

What was Jacqueline to her anyway? She certainly hadn’t known the woman longer than she’d known him, so a matter of days, for them both. What had they spoken of, or what had happened when she’d gone to meet her alone, and been interrupted by Samson.

If this was going to become a habit, she could deal with Jacqueline herself. Stupid of him to think he was being generous. In the end, people always wanted more once you’d given them something.

“If you’re concerned for her safety despite that, accompany her.” He said, trying to control the anger in his voice. He felt betrayed. She’d turned on him so quickly. “I’ll take care of anything remaining on my own.”

He forced himself to look away for her, trying to remind himself that he’d liked Jacqueline. That Ms Wagner had snapped at the Poisoners for him. And that she'd sounded just like this back then. It kept him from saying anything ‘’directly’’ rude, at least. Inside, though, as he stepped toward the car, he seethed.

Edited by DrTentacles on Jan 8th 2019 at 3:54:19 PM

A knot formed in Annette's throat the second his eyes snapped to her, and sunk deeper and deeper until it was a pit in her stomach. Why—he didn't—why couldn't he see that leaving her without Alexander as protection was the same thing as leaving her for dead? Annette's hotel had been bugged and ready for anyone to kidnap her the moment she returned, they couldn't trust somewhere that wasn't right at their side! Not that she truly cared. Not for herself, and not for Jacqueline.

If something happens to her, when I could have done something, said something...

David will hate me even more.

But now he hates me. Her stomach twisted in on itself, her gaze lowering to the snow, not able to look Alexander in the eye anymore. I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have done anything. I. I just wanted David's forgiveness. I just...I can't have him angry at me...he's all I have.

But now Alexander hates me. He hates me.

"...fine," she said in a voice so small, he might not even hear it as he turned and walked away. Annette wrapped her arms tight around her torso, her breathing uneven. Because she'd said something selfish, because she'd pushed when she shouldn't have, now he hated her. Now he'd throw her away. She'd be alone and vulnerable. David would be alone and vulnerable. She was so stupid. She'd ruined everything.

I can't do anything right.

Jarl

"That's the other guy. Donar Vadderung and Kris Kringle are two legally distinct entities who just happen to be living in the same body." Jarl said the last sentence in a pantomine of his boss, which probably wasn't going to win him brownie points with the man upstairs.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Potions and Crimes

At this point, Jacqueline actually straightened out. She put a hand on Anne's shoulder and turned to look at Alex, back straight, the other arm outstretched in a gesture of conciliation, even managing a small smile. "It's all right. I'll take the room, monsieur, no need for this to escalate any further." She pointed to the crate of guns. "Just let me have one of those for protection, and give me time to forge some proper ID. That will make it harder for Samson to find me, and give me some...insurance, in case he does." Her hand closed a little tighter on Anne's shoulder, but she seemed, at that moment, rock-steady otherwise.

"I'll be just fine."

Edited by math792d on Jan 9th 2019 at 9:15:33 PM

Terry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God that's still annoying. And I don't know whether to blame that malarky on vikings and their fucking lawyers or Winter and its fucking fae."

Alexander

Alexander wasn’t looking at Ms Wagner when she replied. He’d already turned to walk to his car. He didn’t need to see her face to hear the tremor in her voice, though. A stab of guilt twisted in his chest, and he stopped.

What did she expect? If she’d brought this up in private, I might have been more forgiving. But I’m not going to get berated in front of Paris’s underground by a book-club mom alchemist.

And I don’t like being guilted.

Before he could figure out what to say—or if there even was anything more to say, Jacqueline jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. Relief crept through the cold fog in Alexander’s brain. Hopefully, this would be the end of it. He turned back to the two women, his expression still icy—but that wasn’t something he could change right now. He wasn’t good at looking conciliatory.

“Of course. I’d planned to split what we grabbed from the start—take your pick.” He replied, giving Jacqueline a curt nod of thanks.

“Now. Shall we go?” He asked.

Edited by DrTentacles on Jan 9th 2019 at 4:13:44 AM

He hates me, I messed up, he hates...

Annette was spiraling back into the comfortable, familiar state of self-deprecation when she felt Jacqueline put her hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see her small smile before she began to talk to Alexander. She was going to take what Alexander had offered her, as well as a gun and some fake papers to avoid detection, and that would be enough? Really? Would she really be safe with just one weapon against everything they'd fought at the night club...?

Then again, would Samson bother sending that kind of force just for Jacqueline? He'd been confident enough to only have one guard on him the first time. If he underestimated her and she had a gun then she would be alright. For now.

It didn't take back what she'd said, or change the fact that she couldn't bring Jacqueline back to David and try to prove that she wasn't a bad person who had abandoned somebody when they needed help. All she'd have now was her word.

Would that even be enough to make him happy? It would have to be.

Having one person hating me is enough.

She avoided meeting Alexander's gaze, or answering him directly, and continued towards the car the moment she was released. The faster she got back to her room, the faster she could hide from Alexander, the faster he could pretend she didn't exist and she wouldn't have to hear him yell at her and none of this would matter any more. It would go away. She just wanted to disappear.

Alexander

The silence stretched on as Alexander drove through Paris, Ms Wagner hunched in the back of the rented car. One of them had to break it first. Once he’d lost his temper, it wasn’t easy to recover his good mood. Doubts trickled through his mind—why had she snapped at him like that? Had she been talking with him with von Hochberg? He hadn’t understood their german. Where exactly was this going to go?

And without conversation to distract himself, he was alone with his Hunger, the cold void in his chest, gnawing emptiness and temptation.

The silence was dangerous.

“Is there something between you and—” A sharp pain jabbed into Alexander’s chest, cutting off the end of the sentence.

Right. Freeloader was still in his jacket. And the kitten had very sharp claws. He coughed, swallowing the ‘and Jacqueline’ he’d meant to end the sentence with.

“—Let’s not do this in the car. We’ll talk about what just happened tomorrow, when we’ve both slept."

Edited by DrTentacles on Jan 10th 2019 at 12:38:26 PM

With Jacqueline gone to make whatever illegal things she needed to have forged papers made, Annette was well and truly alone with Alexander. It shouldn't have bothered her so much given this was how they'd arrived. Then, though, she hadn't been absolutely sure that he hated her. That sureness was why she'd opted for the back seat rather than shotgun, and had pressed herself as deep into the far-back-spot of the car as soon as they'd gotten inside.

If she were any further from him physically, she would be in the trunk. Yet, with what she had said, and how he had taken it, maybe being in the trunk of the car wouldn't be so bad?

It certainly would be better than sitting in the heavy, empty silence.

Alexander was first to break it with half a question. Annette blinked, brow still furrowed tight as she dared to glance at him. Between her and...? Jacqueline? That...well, if she had feelings for the woman beyond guilt, it might have explained her actions. It wasn't right, though. Still, he'd stopped himself before he'd asked, so maybe he realized his guess was wrong.

Not talking about this til morning wasn't ideal. She'd rather not talk about it at all. Let him hate her, let her shelve this whole ordeal. Go back to being alone. Just herself and David and nobody else.

...

But she needed Alexander's help. If he turned her out then Samson would be on her just like he'd been on Jacqueline. The woman had a gun now, and Annette could have gone to her instead, but despite everything, she still knew and trusted—somehow—Alexander more. And he was definitely stronger than Jacqueline was, armed or not. So pushing this aside...wouldn't solve anything.

At least in the time between now and morning, she might be able to figure out how to articulate the mess of terrible feelings in her head that lead to this. She nodded, then, remembering he might not be able to see her in the rear-view mirror, let out a small, "Alright, m-Mr. Thorne."

Alexander

Alexander frowned, unable to ignore the hesitation in her voice. But he’d said it could wait until morning, and he meant to stick to that.

“Good.” He said, at a loss for words again for a moment. Anything to change the subject, though, was welcome. Anything that wasn’t silence.

“You seem to know cats, Ms Wagner. Will you help me cut this one’s claws?” He added after a moment.

Under his jacket, the tiny ball of fluff made a hissing noise.

~~~~

A little while later, the rented car pulled up in front of the airport, and Alexander stepped out in search of Jesse. Luckily, his sibling wasn’t hard to find, even in a crowded public airport. It took only a few minutes of searching before he spotted them sitting at the bar of a little cafe by the door, a void of color in a bone-white pantsuit.

Such a flair for the dramatic.

He stepped up next to Jesse, taking note of how his sibling’s shoulder tensed, the half-turn that said his sibling was fully prepared to launch a mug of hot coffee in his face if he wasn’t a friend.

“I see you packed only the essentials. Ciao, Jesse. A rude wizard broke my phone.” He drawled, voice sly.

Jesse turned on his stool, then dropped lightly to stand on an inch or two taller than Alex on their wedges. Today, his sibling had chosen to look masculine-female, rather than any of the other thousand combinations they could do. It was one of their more subdued looks—politician pantsuit, hair lose in a neat bob, nails short, neat, glossed, and uncolored. It said “trying to avoid notice” and “don’t get in my way” at the same time. For a moment, there was the familiar clash—Alexander’s hunger prodding at Jesse, while Jesse’s snarled back, but it was only a formality. Jesse smiled, and Alexander’s hunger was left to snarl alone.

“Ciao, Alexander. I don’t think I was followed through the flight, so Ms Raith will be using local agents. I’ve brought copies of the court order she filed—though there are more to come, I suspect.” Jesse began, their voice a cold contralto.

Alexander raised an eyebrow at his sibling. He didn’t speak for a moment. Just held the expression, wry, silent amusement.

After a moment, Jesse returned the look of question.

“Oh, I just thought I left the ice outside.” Alexander replied. “I missed you. Ass.”

He saw Jesse’s lip twitch. Then his sibling pulled him into a hug. As always, Jesse felt frail and thin to Alex. They’d been like that since childhood. But they were warm.

“I’m glad you’re well, Alex.” Jesse whispered back. “At least in body. Who’s the mouse?”

Alexander didn’t flush, but it was only because he was good at self control. He took a step back, waving his hand as though presenting Ms Wagner.

“My new secretary. Jesse, Ms Wager. Ms Wagner, the final younger sibling. Hopefully.”

Edited by DrTentacles on Jan 10th 2019 at 10:47:10 AM

For a moment, Annette was silent, still looking away from Alexander even as he tried to speak again. Yet despite her attempts at keeping herself calm and collected and disconnected, she snorted very quietly at his question. And at the response he got from within his clothes.

"...considering he c-can teleport, Mr. Thorne, I think we're going t-to need to start with a circle."

Annette trotted behind Alexander at her usual pace despite her unease, if only because getting separated in a crowded airport was the opposite of something she wanted to do ever. Even being close to somebody she was still sure was merely humoring her was better than pushing through people. Most of whom were much taller than her. At least it was hard to mistake Alexander for anyone else in the crowd...and even harder to miss was the person he approached. Or. Yes, person. She couldn't garner a gender from them one way or the other.

Her cheeks flushed faintly red as their attention, and Alexander's, went from a genuinely sweet reunion to herself. Jesse Thorne. Right! They had been on the ear-pieces at the club. This was not how she had expected them to look for some reason. In a way they stood out even more than their sister or brother. What with their stark white clothes and posture and wow they were tall and in heels to boot and shit she was staring like a fucking idiot again.

Now was not the time for this.

Wasn't Lilaine enough?? Now there are two of them on my radar?? Maybe????

"P-Pleased to, um, m-m-meet you in person, um..." she paused, unable to think of the right title to call them. Alexander was 'Mr. Thorne', Lilaine was just Lilaine—hell, she'd insisted on it—and the younger siblings were, well, children. Now what. Her face was getting even redder from embarrassment on top of everything else.

Yay.

Edited by KeiranGold on Jan 10th 2019 at 8:11:40 AM