Night fell on the City of Lights.

Normally, such nights would pass by like any other. The City of Lumiere would shine brightly even in darkness, a bustle of activity at all times.

---However, recently the atmosphere had grown far more tense. The rumors spreading throughout the common folk of sightings of a certain legendary killer had made the streets a little more empty. While there was no real proof of the return of the legendary Spring-heeled Jack, the mere idea of the killer who had soaked the streets of Refne's capital in blood was making the populace frightened.

The Moonlight Society had already insisted they would look into it, despite the evidence being scarce. Despite the insistence of its current head, that she had burned the murderous warlock to ashes fifty years ago.

The truth was that no matter how unlikely, the society that governed impossibilities could not dismiss something as merely being impossible.

---But that was not what these witches were here for. That was a duty for more experienced, higher-ranking magic practitioners.

No, this particular crew, who had been assembled fairly swiftly to be deployed on a relatively low-level task, were investigating something entirely different.

The Powder District was known for the production of gunpowder, particularly for the creation of fireworks, a process that had been imported from the distant East. Yet, somehow, it seemed like dark dealings occasionally took place here.

It was hardly the first time the Moonlight Society had dispatched witches to investigate some hint of illicit dealings with illegal supernatural items in the Powder District. It would certainly not be the last.

The low, dark buildings stood in the fading sunlight, cobblestones shiny from a recent rainstorm when the witches arrived. The streets were fairly empty, but thankfully that didn't mean they'd be without any leads.

It had been reported by a policeman who had been on patrol. The sighting of a man carrying something caged, disappearing into an alleyway.

Something glittering like a miniscule star, fluttering about and trying to escape its bounds.

The description brought to mind something rather specific---

A fae.

A fae smuggling operation, in order to harvest the dust from the wings of the most diminutive of their kind, would be a violation of not just Refne's law, but also the treaties between the humans of the nation and those who dwelt in the forest.

To put it simply, it had to be stopped.

That was the reason for their presence in the Powder District.

Thankfully, they would not be stumbling in the dark and attempting to locate a specific alleyway without any direction.

The waifish girl who had been sent alongside them, currently regarding their surroundings expressionlessly, was a Lantern.

With her assistance, they'd be able to pinpoint a location more effectively, and from there---

Defeat the criminals, and rescue any captured fae.

It may have seemed like a tall order to some, but for the Moonlight Society, it was part of their duty.

Hopefully, they would pull it off without issue.

Despite the ever-forward march of the modern project and humanity's best efforts to quash its influence, life in the city had never quite become disentangled from the cause and effect of the natural world beyond it. Even setting aside their reliance on the toil and fruit of distant fields for trade and sustenance, the border between Lumiere and the world beyond was an arbitrary one. In the end, just as many of those who lived there were animals who had adapted to the strange new ecosystem as they were humans who held it up as a symbol of mankind's progress, and though their acceptance was grudging, it was clear they were here to stay.

The sight of insects drifting through the sky against the setting sun was therefore nothing out of the ordinary. All sorts emerged from the depths of the city as it descended into night, emerging to feed upon the refuse of the day or sup themselves on the blood of those who walked the streets in intoxication; tonight would likely see an even greater abundance of them, the earlier downpour inundating the air with a favourable humidity.

"Naught yet." And that was just what the one directing them was counting on.

Among those accompanying the waifish automaton was a figure carrying an ambiguous presence. Witches were a varied bunch, their traditions stretching all over the globe and persisting into the modern era as both practical means and stubborn eccentricity, but this individual seemed bizarre by even those skewed standards. Clad head to foot in a set of white robes that swallowed up their form and figure, and with a hooded mask made of a metallic fibre woven into a coil, it seemed as if they should have fallen far behind the other, more limber-seeming individuals present; and yet they showed no discomfort or disorientation, moving confidently and carefully along their route as senses beyond the ken of man guided them, both within and without.

"Rot teems in stagnant waters. They will not be far hence." If anything, their gait put them close to the head of the pack as they stalked intently along, the low buzz distorting their voice and the hum of movement from within their vestments betraying frustration that their 'familiars' had yet to find their mark among the cacophony of scents in the air.

---

Why did criminals always have to go stomping about at night?

It was a rhetorical thought, mind, but it kept Carina's mind entertained for a moment while the hastily assembled group was walking along, following their lantern to the location of their goal. Some idiots playing at fae poachers, tempting the wrath of both Witch and Wild, lucky them the former chose to get involved first. Trying to trade in fae dust by exploiting the smallest of their kind, which would have been reason enough to go make some heads roll without even considering the breach of diplomatic gestures between those of a civilized nature. It didn't make her terribly happy to be stomping about as the sun set, and the insects began swarming even more than usual, the humidity practically sinking in between the gaps of her armor and making her painfully aware that her current attire would serve her very poorly in a sufficiently warm environment, a quiet huff of annoyance at the feel of a trickle of sweat down the back of her neck as she walked with the vanguard of the group.

It was a fitting place for Carina, given she was the only one of their number to have any sort of armor, though she was not the only one armed with more than a wand and a broom. Her armor, a black that settled into the night nicely, matched her robes well, giving her an uncanny ability to blend into the shadows should she stop stomping along for a few moments. Of course, the amount of black steel, the heaviness of her footfalls, and large sword slung across her back all indicated that she would be about as stealthy as a beast of burden turned loose in a shop of fine wares. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ramblings of one of her fellow witches, one dressed even more heavily than she was, though rather than armor it was all thick cloth and woven headwear. How could she stand to be running around in something like that with how humid it was right now? Whoever had trained her hadn't thought to train her how to speak plainly, though, even if she didn't seem to be wrong.

"They damn well better be close, wouldn't call anything the daft bastards are doing as stagnant though. Rotten sure, but didn't sound the kind to just sit around sucking on their thumbs."

Carina was impatient at this point, sure she had been put through an accelerated training regiment to catch up compared to some of her peers that had been proper Witches their entire lives, but that just made her that much more eager to actually do something beyond study and train. Hard to see how much she improved if all she had to beat up on was a training dummy or the off hand comments of spectators and teachers. Now was about damn time to prove she could be just as useful in the field as anyone else, even if she was among peers of similar experience. Whether they had the drive or not was another matter completely, but if nothing else they could attest to her own capabilities. More importantly, they had fae to rescue, so the fact it was taking this long to find the criminals was even more frustrating. Worst of all it was boring stumbling around in the mounting night, so the sooner they could get to doing something the better.

Felicia stuck close to Juliet's side, not having said a word since… hmm, wait, had she even said anything to these people yet? Juliet had handled the introductions after they had been assembled and she hadn't worked closely with any of them before. So… maybe she hadn't said a word to any of them at all.

Not that she expected her particular skillset would lend itself much to an anti-smuggling operation, her familiar was one thing, but if they found themselves reliant on magical barriers then things had gotten… quite out of hand. Even more out of hand than the bit where there was a fey-smuggling operation at all, really; just what sort of people went around smuggling fairies? Beyond being illegal, it was just tasteless, and surely there was no reason to not do it properly, you would have far fewer problems in the long run if you just worked with the fairies…

Juliet, for her part, was actually paying attention to where they were going and their surroundings, while her mistress appeared to be looking mostly at the floor and entirely caught up in her own thoughts. She didn't relish the thought of breaking into a smuggling operation at night, it was still too easy for the smugglers to maybe set up an ambush. Especially with how loud everyone was being, talking and… clanking along, in one case.

For someone whose star had once rose on the heights of infamy and theatricality, chasing after fae traffickers was undignified, low-grade grunt work meant for lesser witches. Too bad that it was exactly what those holding Aurelia's leash thought she deserved. And frankly? She'd take it. At least it meant she was out of prison. Truly, the true talent afforded to the Hargrave name was covering up its shame. That was the only reason she even had any of her opportunities, after all.

Still, it would have been appreciated if Aurelia had been stuck with witches that understood the value of discretion, as opposed to the heavily-robed foreign mess and the one in full plate. Really, it would have been one thing if this was a raid and they knew where their targets were hiding. But this was an investigation requiring at least some small measure of discretion, despite the idiosyncracies of witches.

Aurelia's steps were silent: a relic of her time as a phantom thief. Of course, the lightness of her gait meant little when accompanied by the landsknecht with the nice hat. She took a moment to check her pistols, confirming that they were loaded with the proper bullets: ordinary ones for now. They could be enhanced by her magic, and if anything particularly arduous came up, she still had her spell bullets ready to go. Her arms readied, she looked out to the other as they trod through the streets.

"Let's at least attempt to be stealthy. There's no need to let every cutthroat and rogue in this part of town know we're coming. I can scout ahead, if we need it."

They needed it. The collective group needed it very much.

& Trifoliata

---

In a past life, Talulah might have thought hunting criminals would itself have been a criminal misuse of her skills. Even now, it still twinged a minor annoyance in her, but she was able to recognize that it was a civic duty as a witch, especially one well-suited for tracking such as herself. Looking among her companions, she didn’t think the same of the others, though—the black-haired girl could only think what a motley group of girls this operation had thrown together.

She could see one of the other witches throwing glances towards the one in clanking full armor, and the other one dressed in full white.
Two beacons in the night.

This experience was definitely different than what she was used to abroad. Being back in Lumiere was almost a novel experience after being in the sandy deserts for so long, but being an entire ocean and them some between her and the nasty wind-swept curses that had sent her back home in the first place was a welcome respite. If she hadn’t been convalescing, she wouldn’t even have participated in an operation like this, but Trifoliata had insisted on it as a way to ease her back into the groove. Exploring and researching artifacts in the field was her raison d’etre.

Had it just been herself, Talulah would have insisted on diving straight into Notte’s Labyrinth. The ruins in particular wasn’t the brand of ancient empire that she was most interested in, but it was still remnants of an ancient empire, after all.

Trifoliata also said that doing things like this was a good way to rebuild her shattered reputation at home, but that was neither here no there. Either way, she was here, and Talulah was hardly going to disagree that hunting down criminal scum and putting them down if needed was necessary.

Talulah made a dramatic gallic shrug when the azure-haired witch finally commented on the composition of their little party. “I suppose it can’t be helped.” Her words were conciliatory, but it was clear that she was finding the silliness at least somewhat amusing.

She and Trifoliata had scouting covered, and she said as much. “Trifle’s in the air ahead of us. She’ll let us know if she sees anything.”

Despite the distance involved, mistress and familiar could still talk to each other. The falcon’s smooth voice was audible to others, although slightly distorted by distance. “…I’m gonna smack you. But no, I don’t see anything yet. From my perspective it’s obvious the neighborhood knows we’re around.”

The black-robed witch sighed, making her twintails sway as she shook her head. At least with a Lantern around, even if they bumbled around, she could still lock on to something.

Cordelia -

---

Smuggling operation, eh? With Fae of all things? Did the smugglers really think they were going to get away unscathed? Getting involved with such creatures were likely going to only end badly for those that didn't respect them. Well, she supposed it was partly her problem now, too. She couldn't let someone like this get away with such a scheme. Cordelia's gaze quietly fell over her companions as they idly chatted away as she would keep mostly to herself. She had no reason to speak, and ultimately she wasn't even sure what she would say. Idle chatter wasn't something she was good with, to people at least.

She wasn't going to ever feel really comfortable with other people, was she?

"Heeeh why do you always overthink this kind of thing?" Cordelia frowned, expression shifting to one of mild irritation, not bothering to respond to the serpent coiled around her shoulders and draped across her chest much thought. "Tsssk, tssssk, if it wasn't for me taking pity on you, you'd just be some lonely shut-in without a friend in the world, sheheheh~"

"...every cutthroat and rogue already likely knows we're here." Cordelia responded rather coolly after a few seconds. As someone who grew up in a slightly underprivileged household, well, she knew at least a little that word of the society in the area traveled fast. "But wherever they're crawling about, they shouldn't be a problem."

The locals were hesitant to approach the Witches. It stood to reason, places like this were most likely to harbor a wariness of those who practiced magic then some of the wealthier areas of the city. At least, more outwardly so.

The air was dense, feeling considerably humid in the aftermath of the storm, this close to the river as well. If one were to examine the Lantern's expression, they would perhaps notice the absolute barest hints of some sort of discomfort in her expression, but it was unlikely anyone would actually be able to pick up on such things, and she did not care to show those feelings.

Instead, she stepped forward, closely examining each alleyway as they passed. For her, a twisting, coiling string of lights almost like stars appeared within her mind's eye, standing out against an increasingly dull surrounding as she began to determine where it was emerging from.

The eyes of the few people nearby on the streets occasionally fell on the witches, but especially on the Lantern. Witches were one thing, but Lanterns were a far rarer sight out in the open in the Powder District.

For this reason, the blonde waif's movements, seemingly uncaring of everyone watching her, were being closely tracked. Given the reputation of some of those in the Powder District, it was possible there were some unsavory motives among those observing such a rare sight, but it was unlikely anyone would approach when there were so many witches nearby.

---Regardless of her surroundings, the Lantern suddenly stopped, and pointed towards a rather isolated alleyway.

On close examination, it wasn't entirely empty.

There was a figure near the end, a tall figure in heavy clothing that appeared somewhat motionless. Its proportions were human at first glance, but perhaps somewhat odd. Slightly too short legs, the hat seeming directly perched on its neck with little room for a head, arms slightly too long...

It was likely some variety of fighting homunculus, purchased by the smuggling operation.

With the likely location of the possible operation discovered, it was now on the Witches to decide how approach.

---

The numerous eyes of her fellow Witches were not lost in Carina, as she could practically feel the stares as she marched on, continuing to make no real effort to conceal herself, perhaps in a deliberate manner if one was feeling less than charitable. Fae smuggling was not the kind of crime you just quietly resolved, that was the kind of thing you made an example of. Even if they were not the most experienced or seasoned, if they couldn't handle some smugglers and their tricks then they were hardly worth their place in the Society. Still, before long one of the others at least spoke up, asking that they at least try to be stealthy. Glancing back, the one who spoke up was practically silent as she moved, a quite respectable hat and practical attire for striking out. She was dressed for the night, Carina noted, and shrugged idly in response to the suggestion.

"Won't tell you what to do, be as sneaky as you want. I'll kick in the door when that stops being useful."

Continuing to stay at the lead of the group and waiting on the Lantern to narrow down where they were going, another one chimed in, one who had a familiar out scouting ahead of them. That suited her fine as well, she never had much interest nor care for having any sort of familiar, she'd rather focus on herself. Apparently they were already known to the neighborhood already knew they were around, a snort of amusement from Carina in response to the information. Practically speaking it would be a shock if they weren't known, even if none of them stood out a gaggle of witches on the hunt would stick out like a sore thumb, regardless of how subtle some of them wanted to be. Too many people in a group at this late at night to not stand out at least a little bit. The next one to speak up also confirmed what was painfully obvious, that they were well known to any sort of troublesome element interested in a late night band of women wandering about.

"Not like we don't stand out even without me being the most obvious, one hell of a group we got here."

At that point the Lantern indicated an alleyway, and Carina's hand was halfway up to her sword as her gaze adjusted to the dark. All wrong, as far as someone should be if they were just some lookout. Long arms, short legs, couldn't make out a proper neck and head, had to be some sort of homonculi the smugglers got their hands on. She didn't quite draw her weapon yet, glancing at the other Witches since they were a team, regardless of how she felt about the situation, and since none of them had particularly gotten on her nerves yet she could at least play nice still.

"So, shall we get that out of our way, or maybe one of you sneaky girls want to find a place to watch the show first?"

Well, she couldn't exactly deny that their entourage drew enough attention that the entire Powder District knew they were present. Six witches all in one place, moving in one direction, out in the open? Stealth was likely a failed endeavor from the start. Aurelia sighed at the realization, privately thinking that perhaps they would have been better served with only a few among their number even setting foot in the district to begin with. Oh, how Aurelia missed being Phantom Thief Etoile. She could have accomplished this task far more quickly.

But what's done was done. Aurelia could only adapt to what had already occurred. Forced to work with these other junior witches and with no other recourse, she only nodded curtly in response to both Cordelia and Carina, her hands sliding down to the two pistols holstered on her belt.

"Fair points." She stacked up on the alleyway, back to the wall next to it as she peered in. Nothing that could be detected with her skills out here. Which meant going up above for a better view, of course.

"Then I'll make for the roofs and provide overwatch. Try not to engage before I get in position. Or do, it's your head." Aurelia started clambering up the walls almost immediately after she'd spoken, using the various stones and railings as handholds until she leapt up atop the roofs with a front flip, drawing her two revolvers as she proceeded forward with a prowl, peering down into the alleyway below.

"Prithee, calm yourselves. It will avail us little to spread ourselves thin, and less yet to be at each-other's throats." The robed figure responded to both the armoured warrior and the well-dressed rogue, their tone brooking no disagreement; though they seemed to take the latter's point in hand with their own advice, the strange noises from within their garb settling down as they spoke.

It may have been more a gesture of courtesy than the alternative, however. Though it was hard to read their body language through their garb and the heavy air that seemed to hang about them, they didn't seem bothered by the attention that the tallest of their number noted. It remained to be seen whether their skills beget confidence in their ability to handle the situation or if they were simply too single-minded to pay any mind to anything besides their target, but as the short witch in the black robe made a dramatic flourish to draw attention to her familiar's surveillance they seemed to nod along, raising a hand in assent.

"Our quarry are fools, but they are not without sense. This quarter reeks with the scent of fire, masking that left by the forest's children." As they spoke in consensus, one of their familiars descended to land upon the hand they extended. Though it resembled an insect with a segmented body reminiscent of a wasp, and would appear to be little more than that when perceived at a distance, at this close proximity the contrast between the pitch black of its form and the vibrant green of its eyes and wings betrayed a rather more fantastic nature: as did the fashion in which its abdomen writhed like a sharply-barbed tail.

"And yet life is not so easily silenced. The spirits will find the trail, however thoroughly they believe it to have been scoured away." Even those present who didn't know of the history and rituals of the one commanding it would recognize that despite its austere appearance, the familiar was not greatly divorced in nature from those they were seeking to rescue.

It seemed, however, that the first breakthrough of the night was by the grace of their companion rather than the myriad familiars among them. As the Lantern drew to a halt and gestured down the alleyway, they too paused as if checking their workings, before picking up their pace and peering around the wall down towards the strange, hulking figure.

The warrior and the rogue once again seemed to exchange passive-aggressive remarks as they took stock of the situation; though this time the latter took the initiative and disappeared up the side of one of the buildings enclosing the alleyway and out of sight before the figure could fully turn to admonish them. A distorted sigh came forth from them, before they turned their attention to the warrior.

"Steady. It may seem a churl, but many a journey has ended on such a premise." Their tone was cautioning, albeit with a confidence that suggested they were simply recounting from experience. That experience seemed to give them a different idea of how to deal with the homunculus; without another word, they gestured forward with the hand the vespine familiar rested upon, bidding it forwards down the alleyway towards the entity.

Perhaps they had a plan of action in mind already, or maybe they were simply casting a stone into stagnant waters, sending the spirit towards the hulking brute to get a feel for its behaviour and capabilities. Either way, the remainder of their familiars began to gather in the air above them, dispersed just enough that an outside observer wouldn't immediately process their numbers, while just close enough to descend at a moment's notice.