[indent][right][h1][color=23527C]Eksa Thresh[/color][/h1][/right][right][sub][hr][color=3277b3]Mentions:[/color] Everyone  [color=3277b3]Location:[/color] Flowers and Canvases[/sub][/right][hr]
[/indent][indent]It really [i]was[/i] chaos.

Not only was nobody on the same track, but a hostile tension was thick in the air. Not to mention, there was a seemingly endless stream of former coven members making their individual entrances - though this last bit was to be expected. Maybe they should've held their meeting somewhere larger, or more.. secluded, for all these people. But, they were here now. The series of entrances and arguments at hand could've given anybody a headache, at this point. Luckily, Eksa was someone accustomed to a degree of chaos. Working in labs or various universities acclimated one to an environment where many people were hustling about endlessly like ants - and this seemed not-too-different, minus whatever hostility was afoot.

In truth, Eksa would've been content to let the rest of her former companions iron out their grievances with eachother, one way or another. But part of her had a feeling that it would've taken them longer to do so than it would've taken Father Wolf to claim his next victim - meaning time was of the essence, one could only assume. Luckily, Auri and Kali didn't take too long with their discussion in the back room. Upon their return, Kali announced his intent to explain himself which, to Eksa, seemed pretty reasonable. One had to admit though, that she had no problem with the United States' Government. Having lived in the U.S. for only a few years, she had never interacted with the FBI, and didn't know much about them. She did gather, through television and movies, that they were roughly equivalent to the UK's NCA.

But it seemed almost everybody else had an issue. So much so that some of them didn't even want to hear Kali out. Which was.. kinda unfair, at least in Eksa's eyes. Things would work best if they allowed communication between eachother without letting emotions cloud their judgement. She'd been happy to know, at least, that there was no attention on her - luckily enough, their coven had always been full of a buncha weirdos, so that was reassuring in the least. But.. there seemed to be a distinct lack of level-headed stoicism in the mix. Eksa felt a light stinging in her nose as she felt the need to speak up - or maybe the stinging was Everleigh's cigarette. Either way, she felt her nerves climbing up into her throat as she tried to convince herself it'd all work itself out..

But.. in the end, they needed a mediator.

Eksa started to stand and took a breath, readying herself to speak. [color=3277b3]"Shoul-"[/color] She was immediately interrupted before she even began, the aforementioned breath swiftly reaching her lungs and delivering a dose of air, lightly tainted by cigarette-smoke. Her face shifted downwards as she was suddenly bombarded by a series of body-racking, dry coughs. Her right hand instinctively reached forward and grasped the back of the chair in front of her as she doubled forward half-way at the cough-attack. The coughs were terrible, and wickedly dry, with a troubled rasp to them - the type of cough that sucked all breath from one's body. Eksa's grip blanched her fingertips as she gripped the chair in pain. There was a few moments where she tried to catch her breath, her hand trembling lightly as she moved it to try and waft the air around her clear, even so lightly contaminated as it was, coughing all the while.

To others it might've looked like she was choking to death, but a trembling hand rose to ensure than she was fine. "Fine", in this case, seemed to be [i]quite[/i] subjective, but Eksa was.. accustomed to it. Such coughing fits weren't uncommon for her, but the presence of smoke or intense cardio were fail-safe evokers of such a painful response. Nevertheless, she tried her best to catch her breath while avoiding any eye-contact from the looks she was sure she'd receive from such an outburst. She held down a shaky breath as she felt the pain subside lightly in her torso, slowly straightening her posture as she was quick to try and steel herself, mentally, to speak again.

[color=3277b3]"I-I.. I think we should let 'im speak.."[/color] She started, a small bead of sweat rolling down her temple as she did. Her voice was.. [i]not[/i] what any of them would remember. A decade ago, her voice was, well.. normal. She [i]was[/i] upbeat, if a tad loud compared to her peers, and was pretty thickly accented, in Glaswegian fashion. [i]Now[/i], though.. it was a lot different. Her voice has scarred and raspy - it sounded like a voice that would [i]hurt[/i] to use. Over the years, a good portion of the pain from speaking had, admittedly, subsided as her vocal cords grew used to working the way they now did. Now though, her accent had to work harder to push past the croaky measure of her voice. Nevertheless, it did. [color=3277b3]"He doesn't-"[/color] [i]cough, cough[/i] [color=3277b3]"-doesn't hafta be here in capacity of an FBI agent, or whatever.. why would 'e be? They havnae a reason to care 'bout what's goin' on here, 'less I'm misunderstandin'.."[/color] She let the end of her sentence trail off.

As she finished, she dared to let her eyes eyes trail upwards to a level where she could potentially meet someone else's gaze, even as she felt her body flush with the heat of anxiety. The tip of her shoe fiddled with the back of the chair in front of her in anticipation as she stood in the middle-left of the group, feeling a bit claustrophobic after her interruption. Sure, her heartrate had probably doubled after she dared venture herself into the conversation, but the cohesion of the group was more important than her comfort. Somebody had to try and keep Kali from getting thrown out by the flock that was currently eyeing him -- he [i]was[/i] a member of their coven, after all, even if she hadn't a direct relationship with him.

She painfully stifled a few weaker follow-up coughs, her hand rising to form a fist in front of her mouth as she did.[/indent]