[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][COLOR=SILVER][SUB][h3]|| G[SUB][SUP]ALLOWAY'S [/SUP][/SUB]E[SUB][SUP]MPORIUM OF [/SUP][/SUB]A[SUB][SUP]NTIQUITIES - [/SUP][/SUB]M[SUB][SUP]ILK STREET[/SUP][/SUB][/h3][/SUB][/COLOR]
[INDENT]The steady tap of a cane alongside the steady click from the heels of a pair of well polished hard-soled shoes echoed even amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy sidewalk. Adorned in a freshly pressed black suit atop a matching shirt and accompanied by a perfectly paired tie, the man cut a striking, well-dressed figure. He continued in a straight line, a gentle mane of grey hair stopping just above the nape of his neck blew around his ears in the gentle breeze. The man did not move as the people parted around him, stepping out of his way as Deaglán Galloway approached the antiquities shop that bore his name in brass letters. 

It was only upon approach that Galloway noticed the commotion outside of his place of business. Keen gray-blue eyes narrowed as they stared intently at the concerning sight ahead. Galloway's lips pursed disapprovingly at the sight of his store window shattered and scattered across the sidewalk. The familiar smell of burnt flesh and scorched wood lingered even in the sea-mist-laden air while the aging man watched the police cruiser depart with a suspect in tow. Clicking his tongue behind his teeth, Galloway took a few more steps towards the scene of the crime, deliberately tapping his cane harder with each step to draw attention to himself. 

[COLOR=WHITE]"Sir, I need you to stop. This is a crime scene."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"And I need you to step aside, lad. This is my shop."[/COLOR] Galloway retorted, bringing his cane in front of him before placing both hands atop of it. [COLOR=#4682B4]"I'll need to be makin' sure that none of my stock is missing."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=WHITE]"My officers would be happy to assist-"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Nay, you're not hearing me,"[/COLOR] Galloway waved a hand before tapping his cane. [COLOR=#4682B4]"You'll be leaving now. Seems you've already got a suspect in tow, and I have no intention of pressing charges."[/COLOR] He tapped his cane again, behind him, the shattered glass flew back together, merging before restoring the missing window pane, and all signs of damage to the exterior of the shop, the window and its door disappeared in an instant.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Doesn't look like there's any evidence of forced entry to me, now is there, Officer?"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=WHITE]"I, uh-"[/COLOR] The officer stammered, looking from Galloway to the ground, to the window and back to the strange man in front of him. [COLOR=WHITE]"Sir, I really must insist-"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"I insist you drop all investigation into this case and leave at once."[/COLOR] Galloway interrupted, his hands twisting the cane clasped between them before performing a quick pair of taps on the sidewalk. [COLOR=#4682B4]"In fact, it'd be better if you forgot you were even called here at all."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=WHITE]"I uh,"[/COLOR] The officer stammered before suddenly turning around and waving the others towards the pair of cruisers. 

[COLOR=WHITE]"False alarm, there's nothing here. Dispatch must have gotten it wrong."[/COLOR] He called as Galloway allowed the right side of his mouth to turn up slightly. One by one, the remaining officers fell into the same trance, forgetting why they had been at the antiquities shop to begin with. Politely waving goodbye as the cruisers departed, Galloway tapped his cane against the locked front door, prompting it to swing open before entering inside.

The interior hadn't fared much better than the exterior. Bookshelves were overturned, and near priceless relics spilled across the floor. Galloway's eyes narrowed as he examined the shelves, lifting the cane in his offhand before his right took a hold of it, ready to unsheath at a moment's notice. Across the shop, his eyes darted to the back bookshelf, a notable gap where a particular book had been. 

[COLOR=#4682B4][b][i]"Qra thoghairm!"[/i][/b][/COLOR] Galloway snapped, extending a hand. From underneath another shelf, the object in question suddenly flew. His arm recoiled at the impact of the opus as the heavy tome landed in his open palm. Cradling the book to his body, Galloway looked down in horror at the crimson-stained cover.

Fresh blood on the cover could only mean one thing. Someone had attempted, or worse, actually managed to open the cursed grimoire. Though thought to be inert of its mystical energies, the particular tome in Galloway's hand was said to have belonged to Zechariah Auber, one of, if not the most powerful warlocks to have ever wielded the extradimensional energies known as [i]mag'ik[/i]. Auber was said to be beyond the reach of Death itself, having escaped and ascended to a higher plane of being. His grimoire was all that was left, and while numerous other tomes claimed to be the genuine article, most were red herrings left behind by Auber himself.

Except for this book.

Galloway had done his research, he had verified the sources, dated the materials used in its cover and even attempted to open it himself several times. Dark whispers appeared to come from the book in the stillness of the night, but they never called out to Galloway, instead warning him to stay away. Galloway had spilled his own blood trying to break the lock; he had unleashed the full force of his powers upon it, but the cover would not budge.

The Grimoire of Zechariah Auber was little more than a paperweight, so Galloway, in his vanity, had displayed it like a trophy in his shop. Proud and out in the open where anyone could see. Especially since the one person outside of himself who could open it was locked in a cell, his memory and abilities taken from him for the safety of not only Calder City, but the world at large.   

A gentle hoot from the rafters redirected his attention. A small smile crossed Galloway's lips as he extended his arm, and the small screech owl glided down to the offered perch. The bird's claws gently wrapped around his arm while the little grey owl groomed its feathers before looking up at Galloway, its large eyes unblinking as it hopped around excitedly.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Wren, were you here all night?"[/COLOR]

The large bulbous eyes seemed to blink in agreement, the bird letting out a small titter to further drive the point home. Galloway stroked the bird's head feathers, tucking the tome under his arm before tapping his cane to put the rest of the room back in order. 

[COLOR=#4682B4]"I'm surprised you allowed the store to get so out of hand. I would have expected you to set them straight, my little friend."[/COLOR] Galloway mused to the little owl, scratching under its chin with a free finger. As if responding, Wren let out a meek hoot, followed by a few other noises, before Galloway waved his hand. A glittery shimmer emitted from his hand, expanding outwards and washing over the store before illuminating the past positions of a dark, canine-like shape.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Another familiar?"[/COLOR] Galloway mused grimly while the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The notion of another mage breaking into his shop challenged Galloway's earlier dismissal of it as a standard burglary by one of Pointe Bordeaux's many desperate street gangs. 

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Though not Grip,"[/COLOR] He added, the wolf-like shape easing his mind that the raven had not been here. Still, it wasn't unheard of for an arcane practitioner to have more than one familiar; there was still cause to be cautious. Walking back towards the main counter, Galloway tucked the grimoire safely beneath it; the mystery of whose blood had opened it would have to take a back seat for now. The presence of another mage's familiar was far more pressing, especially considering who the only other mage in Calder City was. 

And if it was his blood, then Emyrs help them all.

He could never be allowed to get his hands on the Grimoire of Zechariah Auber. Mag'ik was already a fickle mistress, and though Galloway had made his peace with it, the allure and appeal of the grimoire's power were too much for ordinary folk. In the hands of the extraordinary though...

Galloway had seen the madness its pages could wrought.

Picking up an old phone still connected to the store's landline, Galloway carefully spun the dial, waiting for the tone before it began to ring. A click on the other end assured him the line was open just before an operator answered. The ancient switchboard redirected his call to an orderly as Galloway began to speak.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Yes, I'd like to check on a friend of mine,"[/COLOR] He requested, his hand tightly gripping the receiver. There was always something unnerving about calling out to the Caulfield Asylum and Institute. The entire facility felt like an anachronistic phenomenon. 

[COLOR=#4682B4]"No, I'm afraid I don't have his name. He was admitted under the alias 'John Doe', suffers from a terrible case of amnesia, I'm afraid. Yes, third floor, solitary room."[/COLOR] Galloway nodded as the voice answered on the other side.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"And he hasn't left his room? Not even last night? Okay, very well. No, no reason, I just had a nagging feeling. Glad that's resolved though."[/COLOR] Galloway replied, [COLOR=#4682B4]"Thank you for your time, good day."[/COLOR] He concluded the call, hanging up the receiver and breathing a sigh of relief. 

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"I, too, felt a disturbance last night."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"You should knock, little bat. I do not recall granting you permission to enter."[/COLOR] Galloway replied to the woman's voice without lifting his head. "My affairs are not of your concern."

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"The store is not your private place of residence; that old curse on my kind doesn't provide the same protection here."[/COLOR] The woman replied, examining the state of Galloway's Emporium. A playful smile crossed her lips before she propped her arms in front of herself, placing them over her chest.

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Your shop has seen better days."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Well, yes, you know how Pointe Bordeaux is,"[/COLOR] Galloway replied dismissively, [COLOR=#4682B4]"Is there something I can do for you, Miss Morgan? I'd offer you a beverage, but I'm afraid I'm straight out of 'O Negative'."[/COLOR] 

Carmilla flashed a sly smile, her notably pointed canines peeking out over painted, plump lips.

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"You know as well as I do that it's bad news for all of us, not just you or the 'Gentleman's Club', if [i]he[/i] regains his memory. Let alone if [i]he[/i] claims [i]that[/i]."[/COLOR] She pointed towards the counter, the irises of her eyes faintly glowing violet as she did. Her finger was directly in line with the Grimoire hidden behind the counter, where it sat in front of Galloway's legs. 

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"I could destroy it."[/COLOR] She offered.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"If that were possible, I would have done so already. Sadly, Auber made sure his work would live on and through it, Emyrs too. In some ways, it's the greatest record we have, tying us back to the one who managed to organize mag'ik. In other ways, it's the weapon of our own destruction. Auber knew too much, and the damned arrogant fool put it all in that cursed book."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Then why not claim the book for yourself?"[/COLOR] The raven-haired woman asked, brushing her long locks behind an ear. The lighting of Galloway's shop made her skin appear nearly as pale as fresh snow, her veins almost silvery and luminescent beneath polished marble-like skin.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Don't you think I haven't thought of that, child of darkness? But the book rejects me, or at least it would if there was truly any of it left. I believed its pages to be inert, but now, the blood of another stains its cover. Were I to even try again, I would have to take the life of those whose blood it is to claim Auber's Grimoire as my own."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Another?"[/COLOR] Carmilla replied, an eyebrow raised in surprise, before she took a deep inhale. A familiar scent caused her pupils to dilate, a small smile crossing her face before she hid it from Galloway.

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"So Auber's Grimoire no longer belongs to you?"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"That is how these things work,"[/COLOR] Galloway stated matter-of-factly. [COLOR=#4682B4]"You should know that, even as poor a bruxa as you are."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Are all men in their five-hundreds so hostile?"[/COLOR] Carmilla teased.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"You'll have to forgive me,"[/COLOR] Galloway replied wryly, [COLOR=#4682B4]"I get testy when questioned by a Striga, while a Warlock may have ransacked my shop."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Perhaps the book no longer being yours is the only thing keeping you alive? Then again..."[/COLOR] Carmilla retorted, taking a step towards Galloway, who retaliated with a tap of his cane. A wave pulsed through the air, pushing Carmilla back to where she had been standing. Wren let out a loud hoot from his perch while Carmilla's own familiar made itself known, the large bat unfurrowing its wings before merging with its host.

[COLOR=#4682B4]"I warn you, child, even with your dark gifts, you are outmatched."[/color]

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Can't blame me for trying,"[/color] Carmilla smiled, [COLOR=#9F6CB8]"A girl's gotta eat."[/color]

[COLOR=#4682B4]"Get out."[/color] Galloway's voice left no room for argument as Carmilla blew him a kiss and spun around on her heels.

[COLOR=#9F6CB8]"Ta ta for now!"[/color] She called, walking back out on the street. The heat of the morning sun felt like it would make her burst into flames at any second. She nervously adjusted the Anulus del Sol mounted on her middle finger; the fiery set stone glowed briefly before Carmilla snapped her fingers, producing a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses on her eyes. She took one last look at Galloway's, smiling before moving down the street.

This match might have gone to old man, but Carmilla knew who the mystery warlock was.

And getting the grimoire from him would be a piece of cake.

From a perch above the street, amidst the rows of baroque and Queen Anne-style buildings sat a black bird. It let out a long, mournful croak before the raven flapped its wings and was carried into the sky by the billowing seabreeze. Soaring over Pointe Bordeaux, it banked to the East and allowed the winds to carry it out to sea. Swooping low over the chain of islands that led from the Pointe to Ravenna's Roost, the raven glided towards the tall white walls that bordered the asylum, taking a lap around the building before landing on a third-floor windowsill.

The catatonic occupant slowly turned his head, his clouded, murky eyes opening sluggishly before a slow smile crept over his face. He sat in the middle of the padded room, his arms restrained tightly in the straitjacket, before he simply acknowledged the bird with a single nod.

Grip let out a loud cry before his powerful wings launched the raven back into the air, towards Pointe Bordeaux.
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[sup][h2]O[i][sub][sup]nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true. 

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Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

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afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man 

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was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered, 

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over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though 

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sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever. 
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Now, he is the Warlock they call...[/sup][/sub][/i][/h2][/sup][/center][/INDENT][/INDENT][sub][hr][/sub][sup][hr][/sup][CENTER][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5661999][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019e83f9-259f-75fb-95e3-57387106ed18.webp[/img][/url][/CENTER][sub][hr][/sub][sup][hr][/sup][SUB][SUP][table][row][cell][INDENT][h2][b][COLOR=SILVER]L[SUP][SUB]OCATION:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]POINTE BORDEAUX PRECINCT - THE SOUND[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h2][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][RIGHT][h2][b][COLOR=SILVER]U[SUP][SUB]RBAN [/SUB][/SUP]G[SUP][SUB]OTHIC[/SUB][/SUP] #1.06[SUP][SUB]:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]HUNGRY[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h2][/RIGHT][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/SUB][hr][SUP][SUP][table][row][cell][INDENT][sup][h1][b][COLOR=SILVER]I[SUP][SUB]NTERACTIONS:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]NONE[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h1][/sup][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][RIGHT][sup][h1][b][COLOR=SILVER]P[SUP][SUB]REVIOUSLY:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB][URL=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5664307]HUNGOVER IN HANDCUFFS[/URL][/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h1][/sup][/RIGHT][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/SUP][INDENT][INDENT]The precinct was busy as Archie was marched through booking. The handcuffs continued to chafe at his wrists while the officers marched him towards the desk. He tried his best not to make eye contact with anyone; this was not where Archie wanted to be spending the first morning of his probationary period as a Junior Partner. He needed this all cleared up, and he needed to get to work.

[COLOR=WHITE]"No, Ma'am, I need your real I.D. I cannot put you in the system as 'Molly Splittongue'."[/COLOR] 

The deadpan tone of the sergeant behind the desk caught Archie's attention as his wandering eyes were drawn towards the leggy woman in front of the booking counter. Glossy leather knee-high boots revealed tattered fishnet leggings beneath an animal print miniskirt that Archie could swear he had seen belts thicker than. High-rise satin straps rode over shapely, toned hips, anchoring a bubblegum-pink whale tail beneath a cropped corset top that exposed a leopard-spot lower-back tattoo and threatened to spill the woman's generous bust onto the counter in front of her. The tattoo easily identified the woman as a member of the Molls, had the alias given to the officer behind the desk not already been a dead giveaway.

The Molls were Pointe Bordeaux's own gang of sex workers. They ran the sex trade in the Pointe, and everyone knew it. Most officers even turned a blind eye to it in exchange for some stress relief on the clock. Given the loopholes around sex work and the loose laws that governed it, they were a nightmare to try and prosecute, convincing more than at least one judge to simply throw the cases out when they came across their desk. 

Well, that, and the fact that men in power also tended to enjoy submitting to a dominant woman, which in turn led to compromising photos and backroom, not to mention back-end, deals. Archie had never had the misfortune of handling a Moll case, but he knew more than one lawyer who found themselves in that black widow's web.

His attention wandered back to the Moll in front of him, now finding himself wondering what on earth she could have been brought in for. If Archie were to guess, he'd actually assume it was the Moll reporting a crime rather than being reported. The Molls were known for their zero-tolerance policy regarding abusive clients or any client who simply didn't respect the rules of boundaries of their hired girls. You didn't cross the Molls if you ever wanted to make use of your dick again.    

The woman in question turned to look over her shoulder, seemingly feeling Archie's roaming gaze. She gave him a quick wink before opening her mouth as a snake-like fork tongue waved towards him, each half moving independently as if to salute Archie twice before he, in turn, felt his body returning the salute.

The sensation that followed was difficult for Archie to describe, but his inner monologue had a concise thought.

[COLOR=C0C0C0][i]Scarny, this feeling is scarny. Scared and horny.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=WHITE]"What do you mean there's no record?"[/COLOR] One of Archie's arresting officers suddenly roared, breaking Archie out of his awkward arousal. He was roughly dragged towards the desk, the woman leaving as another Moll arrived to pick her up. Despite wanting to keep watching, Archie's attention was sharply pulled back to his own matters as the pair of officers argued with the sergeant across the counter from him.

[COLOR=WHITE]"The officer on the scene says it was a false alarm. Store is completely fine. Owner dismissed them, no property damage, no intention of pressing charges."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=WHITE]"We put bodies in the back of an ambulance."[/color] The arresting officer snapped in disbelief.

[COLOR=WHITE]"And we found pretty boy here at the scene of the crime."[/color] The second officer argued, roughly manhandling Archie as if to show him off like a freshly caught fish. 

[COLOR=WHITE]"I don't know what to tell you, except there's nothing I can book him under."[/color] The sergeant replied with a shrug.

[COLOR=WHITE]"Then make something up, we're not letting him go."[/color] The first officer argued again.

[COLOR=WHITE]"Hey, it's your badge."[/color] The sergeant replied, [COLOR=WHITE]"It'll help with quota, though, so drunk and disorderly?"[/color]

[COLOR=WHITE]"The guy's accused of murder."[/color]

[COLOR=WHITE]"Murder that we don't have a record of-"[/color]

[COLOR=WHITE]"But the bodies in the back of the ambulance-"[/color] The second officer was in absolute disbelief.

[COLOR=WHITE]"Didn't arrive at the hospital, there's no evidence of anything you're saying. So either we can book pretty boy here with a drunk and disorderly, or you have to let him go."[/color]

[COLOR=C0C0C0][i]Ladies and gentlemen, our legal system at work.[/i][/COLOR]

Archie monologued to himself internally before finally finding the boldness to speak up.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"I get a phone call, right?"[/COLOR]

The first officer turned to Archie, already seething from the mix-up with the paperwork, he looked as though he was about to unload every ounce of his angry on the young man before simply growling yes.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Oh,"[/COLOR] Archie replied, [COLOR=C0C0C0]"Good."[/COLOR] He nodded before looking directly ahead at the sergeant. A wry smile slowly crept over his mouth before he spoke again.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Do you have the number for the District Attorney's office?"[/COLOR][/INDENT][/INDENT][/COLOR]