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[color=5b8a9a]Location:[/color] Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy
[color=5b8a9a]Grimore:[/color] Invisibility
[color=5b8a9a]Skills:[/color] N/A
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Nicholas eyed the key in his brother’s hand and felt some of the tension drain out of him. Even after four years at Strange Academy, Nicholas was always expecting and prepared for the worst - having his brother near him would make it easier when they needed to disappear. Nicholas pulled just part of his key from his pocket, enough to show off the winged end matching Barty’s.

[color=5b8a9a]“If fortune found her humor, our rooming companion is no mystery.”[/color] Nicholas said as he watched the next one take their place. Familiar magic and familiar form, Finley caught not one but two in hand. He was too far away to see which key the Fae had caught but if the look upon their face was any indicator, he was certain fortune’s humor had been found. He offered Finley a nod as they made their way over and watched Connie suffer next. Although Croan’s words were poorly phrased, Nicholas did raise his brow in surprise. To see Connie struggle like that, in a public setting no less, was certainly unusual. 

And so it went. The wildling wielding a knife (barbaric), an enchantress of sort (he very politely stomped on his brother’s foot before he got any bright ideas), a pinata maker (Note: Avoid), a cat lady (Nicholas rolled his eyes - typical), a moth person (Note: Observe), and Callaghan, who seemed dreadfully social as always. Nicholas, despite seeing him saunter his way over to them, still jumped when Callaghan’s arm slung across his shoulders and gave the man a side eye. The view was appreciated but new magic was here and Nicholas wanted to ensure he was fully aware what threat they offered before he offered anyone an indulgence for the rest of the evening. Though inviting Callaghan and Finley away from the soiree they planned for this little group was enticing. He offered his ear as Callaghan leaned in, though all thoughts of later were gone with Callaghan’s warning.

[color=5b8a9a]“Magical or mundane?”[/color] Nicholas doubted anything mundane would concern a dragon enough to mention, but who knew what the human world now commanded. Nicholas scanned the room, nothing strange or out of place as yet another person took the stage. This one Nicholas had passed periodically, one of the strange little people who craved the mundane and normal so much they’d mimicked it here, but he disregarded him because Nicholas found the problem. He muttered a curse as he watched him struggle for his key.

Marcus. 

He reached into the pouch on his belt and felt for a familiar wooden disk. Centuries had spanned between them, a violent separation condemning one of the few humans they had let into their lives to a workhouse in the late 1890s, but Nicholas would know his face anywhere. It took barely a thought to break his emergency spells and the twins vanished, Callaghan and Finley brushed off as Nicholas dragged his brother invisibly as far as he could in the room.

[i][color=5b8a9a]“We’re leaving.[/color][/i] Nicholas sent across the link, keeping himself between the thing wearing Marcus’s face and Barty. They’d let the hag finish spewing whatever drivel she’d dredged out from her cups (embarrassing - you didn’t see the twins like that) and slip away into the night. Nicholas could admit Strange’s Academy wasn’t the worst place to have been, but they’d dallied long enough. This city was a bad place for them. They had history with it and history always had a habit of catching up. They’d lay this one to rest at least - Nicholas would hunt down every last one of his descendants and leave them rotting in a ditch. He regretted not doing it 120 years ago.