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The penthouse apartment was huge compared to what either of them were used to back home. One of the perks with being the booty call for nobility, was that you never went hurting for cash ever again. Johan didn't spend much time in it however, like everything else, it reminded him of his King. His sister, did spend a lot of time in it, looking after her brother and cooking his food. Johan sat at the table, a bottle of scotch half empty next to his full glass. 

"You should stop drinking Johan." Louisa's voice didn't hold any venom, but it held a stern, angry edge to it. They had this conversation almost daily at this point. 

[color=#99ebff]"You should mind your own buisness, Louisa."[/color]  His retort was meanspirited, cutting. 

"I am your Sister." She pleaded. He heard her voice crack. A part of his heart did to. But it was forgotten in a irrational fit of rage bubbling to the surface. Pent up emotion, clawing and dragging itself to the surface. She should understand she couldn't tell him what to do. She could not guilt him. Not over this. Not like this.

[color=#99ebff]"My YOUNGER sister. You don't get to boss me around!"[/color] His tone did hold venom unlike hers. More then he ever wanted to aim at her. But the shakes were coming, the rage was not logical. Its target was the blonde woman currently pleading with him, playing at his emotions. They all did, they all just kept manipulating him. But his words cut like a knife, and his sisters tears welled up as she stared at him. He felt his heart drop like a stone, his rage ebbed away. Hers however, came pouring out like a tsunami.

"Oh? We are bringing up age?! Mr 'I will leave my sister to go shag A GODDAMN ELF KING' for 10 years without a fucking word TO MY ONLY FOCKIN KIN." Her accent slipped, her broad, northern swedish accent that he cherished so much. He winced, looked away.

[color=#99ebff]"...."[/color] He couldn't speak. He could not argue. She was right. Of course she was. He was an asshole. He knew that. He hated that. He buried his face in his hands, trying to calm his nerves. Her hand was immedietly at his shoulder, squeezing it.

"Look. Just, try not to drink so much... It is killing you..." Her voice was so frail, all the venom, all the anger gone. He wanted to cry, he wanted to tell her he would be better. He wanted so much. But inside his body, magic resides. His skin bore its marks. His faith was not to be a man of peace and control.

[color=#99ebff]"I'll... I'll try."[/color] Was all he could say. He hated himself. 
------

NEW YORK; Down in the Subway tunnels.


[color=#99ebff]"Ok. You know the rules. You're a expat of the Northern Throne. Even if you live here, you can't just do as you please. You're only allowed to reside here by your King's good will."[/color][/color] He stared at the massive boulder of a creature. The troll stared back at the man who was puny in comparison. The spear glowing red and blue in his hands was more then enough to even the odds. The trolls stare did make the human nervous though. Trolls were magic resistent. He ONLY had his spear to rely on.

"Oh c'mon. It's not like I've eaten another kid." The troll began. He was rocktroll, rather young. How he had managed to make it all the way to the states was curius to say the least. His kind were native to Scandinavia, and didn't exacly move quickly. For it to get here, meant it had help. And he had a pretty good idea who was behind the transfer. Someone who no doubt knew putting a human devouring troll right under someone who wanted a war between humans and Fey. Somone, who even now had his little minions watch him, looking for a opportunity to try and assassinate him.

[color=#99ebff]"Another?" [/color]A raised eyebrow was all he needed to make the troll backpeddle. He knew of course, that troll hadn't eaten anyone in New York or he'd not be having this discussion.

"You know my past man. I am a troll. I eat humans. BUT NOT ANYMORE I SWEAR. I FOLLOW THE KINGS CREED!"

[color=#99ebff]"So, you did NOT eat Mr Sanders dog?"[/color] Johan shot back as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. This would either go splendedly well or it would go straight into a brawl. With the additional eyes on him, he didn't want to throw down with a magic resistant creatures three times his size. 

"...The rules say nothing about dogs!" The troll protested. He looked upset, but not angry. He wasn't going to throw down with the King's Champion. Rune sighed inwardly with relief. That was one headache less.

[color=#99ebff]"It says not to draw attention in a negative way towards yourself."[/color] He raised a hand to silence the trolls objection,[color=#99ebff]"and in association, to your King. To do so is to threaten the balance."[/color]

"I... It was just a couple of dogs... four at most." The troll grumbled. 

[color=#99ebff]"You were seen. For dogs to go missing in a short period of time from the same exact area? That means the police looks into it. I'm sorry but you are to return to Faerie, or I will have to dispose of you." He said the last part with a voice that betrayed no emotion. "I rather we avoid a tussle."[/color]

"...Yes Champion. I know..." The Troll spoke dejectedly. He got off his hunches, dragging his rocky, mosscovered body next to Rune.


[color=#99ebff]"Good. I would not have relished the throwdown..."[/color] He said as he put down the runes for creating a pathway between the Mortal realm and the Eternal Faerie. "Off you go." He said, prodding the Troll with the tip of his spear. It lumbered off, growling softly about the injustice of it all. As soon as he was gone he turned to the shadows.

[color=#99ebff]"You can come out now you little shits."[/color] There was no answer. Instead there was cackle and a snickering sound. A chill ran down his spine. "I said... Come out." He steadied himself, spear firmly in both hands.[color=#99ebff] "LJUS!"[/color] He yelled as a flash of light emitted with all of him at its center. For a second he burned away the shadows to reveal twisted, small eyed, shriveled creatures. Draugr. His blood rang cold as those were not the Fey but undead. That meant Hildebrand was nearby, and who knew how many dead hobos she had picked up on the way. He hated necromancers. 

[color=#99ebff]"Odin help me."[/color] He said as the first of the Draugr snarled at him. As they began to advance, he looked down the dark, damp tunnel to his left. He thought in that moment; Fuck it. 

He started running like a madman, away from his undead opponents. The Draugr weren't shambling corpses, but they were not quite as fast as they once had been in life. But they were formidable enemies as far as Johan was concerned. He was not going to fight them where more could appear.