[hr][hr][center][img]https://s3.postimg.org/50tlljshf/horrors_of_cove.png[/img][hr][img]https://i.giphy.com/OA4D9UR5LAaic.gif[/img][hr][@Nallore][@Witch Cat][@Pundii][/center][hr][hr][i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016[/color] -[/b][/i]
	
	In the lobby of the hotel, Andromeda nodded. The prospect that she hadn't called the police, despite Emmie hearing her make the call, was a bit insulting. Still, she couldn't deny that it was bizarre. There was no reason why the cops shouldn't have already arrived at the hotel, and figuring that she might as well call again, Andromda picked up the phone and redialed the dispatcher. 

	[color=9999ff]"Yes, Coventry Horrors hotel again, still have a stiff and no one seems to be coming,"[/color] Andromeda explained, looking towards the road, as if the flashing red and blue lights would appear at any moment. But instead of hearing the usual 'oh goodness, they're almost there' or 'an orphanage burned down, sorry love, it'll be a bit,' there was the sound of heavy breathing. Andromeda frowned. [color=9999ff]"Hello? I'm trying to report a fucking murder here."[/color]

	[color=red]"Christopher Marlowe wrote about me,"[/color] a slimy voice, one that Liam would recognize, finally said. [color=red]"You know who I am, Miss Aldrich. Do not rely on the police. Your debt has come due."[/color]
	
	Meanwhile, up on the seventh floor of the hotel, Aloise glanced over at Liam questioningly. She recognized that look, the one he got whenever a vision came over him. They had become less frequent since that summer, with them almost rare at this point. For one to occur here, in Coventry, was not the best of signs. [color=00ffcc]"What is it, Liam?"[/color] Aloise asked, before nodding at Seraphina's question. [color=00ffcc]"I'm not sure, to be honest...I'd heard of rumors about portals like these before, thought they were just myths."[/color]

	Agent Keenan snorted ever so slightly, smiling a bit to himself. "Where'd you think C.S. Lewis got the idea? Or Ransom Riggs? Or Neil Gaiman?" he asked, before tapping his hands slightly against the wardrobe. "We don't know why these things happen--but I know someone who might. Or bettah, a family of people who may."

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 1929[/color] -[/b][/i]

	"Chivva?!" Folly repeats, her voice far harsher this time and less soft. There is an intensity to it that Eudora will understand--the need for confirmation, for knowledge. The word itself is angloromani, meaning [i]witch.[/i] With the gun now raised, Valeska's eyes are narrowed ever so slightly. Seems she isn't in a mood to answer questions herself, before getting answers from Eudora. "What are you? Who are you?" Folly demands, a certain fire in her eyes. 

	From the window, the soft sound of a man advertising the night's circus performance can be heard. His voice is booming and flamboyant, as he does his very best to stir up a crowd. Folly's eyes flicker towards the window for a brief moment, before returning to Eudora. Circuses have long sheltered those with deviances, with plenty of witches using their talents to make a pretty penny as part of the sideshow, as Eudora will know rather well. 

	"Answer me, or I'll put a hole in your head," Folly warned.