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  • Old Guild Username: Igraine
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    1. Igraine 12 yrs ago

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The problem I think Derren is alluding to, is the fact that the London Office is actually a keep, located on an 'invisible' island on the Thames. There is only one entrance if people do not use the shade gates within, and that is via the front - which is currently being amassed by hundreds/thousands of kamikaze werewolves. Attempts to get in like the three infiltrator wolves did without powerful wards/magic/all the bad ass shit they have, will wind up with the being tossed into the Thames (at best) or disintegrated (at worst).

You were meant to bring Aoife in yesterday, before the attack I thought?
I wouldn't speak for Heroes, but I rather liked what you did with the soul fission idea there Wordsmith, and a lovely post there!
The impact of the first explosion sent shockwaves through the keep, a foreboding whoomp that set every last one of the wolf's instincts on a razor's edge. Veti slipped from the confines of her lover's arms with a flicker of a glance to Henry and Aislinn, the only two left in the great room now.

"Definitely not one of Jay-Jay's fireworks displays over the Thames," she growled to Thad without the least touch of humor in her voice. "I hope you still have a trick or two tucked away in that brilliant mind, love... "

A flash of amber eyes signaled the arrival of her wolf, ivory fangs at least as long as a man's fingers lengthening like daggers in that lengthening ebony-lipped maw. Veti impatiently tore at the remnants of the dress and boots with her black-tipped claws, a thick pelt of crimson and gold all the covering she needed now. Thick cords of muscle rippled like scarlet water beneath her coat as the werewolf unfolded from her transformation - head to magnificent, lethal head with Aislinn Hoyle as she caught the elder wolf's gaze. Veti's long ears flattened back in alarm -

One of the enormous semi-circle windows shattered, glass cascading into the room like a lethal rain. The werewolf's knowledge of firearms and explosives was near encyclopedic - whatever the hell just happened, this was not the work of some shock wave, and yet? The sound of crackling, tinkling fall glass fell silent, and still she could sense nothing awry at all, not a single waft of a scent, or glimpse or whisper to explain what had happened.

Which only infuriated her all the more.

Veti snarled, lips pulled back over her fangs as the werewolf's amber eyes flitted here and there about them, cursing the inexplicable, her jaws snapping with a growing, impatient rage. She could smell a feint, could feel the pull of her instincts to dash toward the first explosion - but for the shattered glass window...

They were scattered, all her pack, to the four winds in this keep. She was trapped here as surely as in a hunter's snare, and her gut roiled at the very thought. Veti dared not leave, but could not know if all the ones she loved were aware of the danger - and her heart pounded in her chest at the thought any one of them would be caught unaware.

The werewolf lifted her muzzle, sniffing futilely at the air one last time before her lips pulled back over her fangs, the mane of crimson hackles raised from skull to tail as she called to them all, a challenge and a war cry, a series of deafening growls and bellowing howls that would have set a mere man fleeing in mortal terror.
Jerusha was utterly charmed by the strange, extremely large moth - the hawk-moth - who pointed his wee little antennae at her it seemed, though surely she must be imagining such a thing. Moths held an undying fascination for her, and always had. When she was a little girl, Jerusha had imagined them to be the brave knights among the insect world, fearlessly charging into the light no matter the consequences to themselves, dashing themselves against the whole world no matter the cost, simply to be enveloped in that luminous glory...

It was a silly child's notion of course, though it brought a smile to her face nonetheless. Perhaps Nestor and his coachman were actually bright lights then, the both of them, that moths should have such an affinity for their persons? Another silly notion of course, though she may have confided that whimsical thought to Nestor but for the fact he had begun a promised story.

She fell silent as he spoke, reverently quiet as always before a fine storyteller, no matter if his tale were comic or tragic. Jerusha fought the urge mightily, the urge to lay a comforting hand on Nestor's arm or to wrap her own about his shoulders as he spoke of his long-dead and noble hound. Not everyone - "merely" mortal or a denizen of the Veiled World - would care for the touch of a vampire, often [rightly] considering such a move suspect at best.

"It never once occurred to me, Master Grimsley, that you would not have a childhood of your own." Jerusha could not help but wonder at the import of Nestor's story, at the two dead animals she could still see in her mind's eye, their life's blood joining the parted streams of clear silver to mingle forever in a forest pool, but she was content to let the mystery lie a little longer. She would take her careful, measured time then, to sew together the pieces he might share and form the tapestry of this strange man, the pale-haired gentleman whose devilish smirk contrasted so profoundly with a wistful thoughtfulness.

"But perhaps if you would give poor Nameless here, the name of your brave hound? " she whispered instead of the touch she might have first offered. Still, the dulcet timbre of her voice rang as full of promise as the vesper bell. "I have found that naming a thing often brings it forth, if you understand my meaning. You can see he is brave, and bold, even in this pitiful condition."

But before she could properly finish the thought, Jerusha's gaze was pulled swiftly from Nestor, laughing softly at his jest as the carriage for Lord Wright arrived in a most spectacular and noisy fashion - no matter the taciturn demeanor of its driver. "Thank you, Master Grimsely," Jerusha replied sincerely before leaving man and dog behind her for the moment, and retrieving a thoroughly startled young lord from his assigned position across the thoroughfare.

The moment Lady Wilde laid her hand against his arm, smiling so prettily up at him, those sapphire eyes mesmerizing, as endlessly fascinating as any gemstone found in the hands of men, Lord Wright was lost. Jerusha wrapped her arm in his easily, laying her head against his shoulder as they walked to the open carriage door. Oh yes, but of course she understood his disappointment, one she felt every inch as keenly as he. But there was simply no help for it this evening, what with a dear old friend found fallen on hard times? And certainly, she would make all this up to him tomorrow evening - entirely alone in her gardens, the two of them for a late dinner by candlelight, music and wine and the most intoxicating company he had ever known...

She wove a coverlet of magic with her voice, the words that tripped so lightly off her tongue like a warm, comforting blanket of illusion that ensured none of the Veiled World shining so brightly around him now, remained in his conscious thoughts. Nothing but the oddly convenient coach with the incredibly tall driver, and the spectacular radiance of the woman beside him.

But for a precious few, it was not for mortal men to see the spectacular underbelly of their own world. The Veiled World might not long survive the hard, jealous scrutiny of mortal men.

Charles pulled Jerusha close before he stepped into the carriage, embracing her tightly until she groaned so softly, shuddering with the sudden need. Unbidden, her gloved fingers interlaced behind head, running tenderly through his hair as she buried her face in the hollow of his neck and shoulder. The pain of the hunger Charles woke with his spontaneous ardor was like no other the vampiress had ever known in her mortal life, the gnawing in her belly become a living thing screaming its need with razor-edged claws. Her tongue flicked greedily over those growing fangs, parched and begging for relief from this horrible thirst...

If she had a breath, Jerusha might have tried to catch it at that instant, the supreme effort of will she exerted at that moment costing her dearly. The vampiress pushed away from Charles, perhaps a little too quickly, her head hung to the ground for a long moment. She would not lift her gaze again until she was sure she would not greet him with the smile of the predator she truly was.

Only a second or two had passed before she looked up to the young man, a mask of amusement dancing in her eyes that he was helpless to see through. "You would not scandalize me before these people, would you Charles?" she whispered, taking a step backward, offering him a hand to take in farewell. "Tomorrow, sweet man. Tomorrow, where we will have our privacy and our leisure. Go on, off with you then... "

Not until the carriage was well underway, did Jerusha feel strong enough to turn back to Nestor and Nameless. Well, perhaps not Nameless for long she could only hope, and she smiled fondly at the poor dog, and to the far-more-than-mortal man beside him.

The vampiress felt paper thin, merely a veneer of herself as she entwined her arm with Nestor's. "Well then, Master Grimsley, " she said evenly, with a strength and cheer she did not truly feel at the moment. But if she named a thing, perhaps it would yet come to her, and that thought alone bolstered her. "Do tell - this place we are yet to visit together? I admit, I am intrigued!"
Just lovely thank you. Woke up a bit later than usual, put on a pot of [my decidedly average] coffee, began a couple loads of laundry and now settling in to do some writing. All in all, lovely indeed!
LimeyPanda said
Is...is that a euphemism?


Only for those excitement challenged... *grins*
For all that Jax's good-natured wheedling of the Commander amused the rogue for its sheer brazenness, she knew very well that Robert Murray was not a man to anger. He was a good man, but proud - and dangerous - and she could almost hear the stiffening of his already ramrod straight spine with every jest Jax flippantly let fall from his lips. She doubted her lovely man would be any more pleased with her if she slipped a blade between Jax's ribs, or let Commander Murray do the job himself. With little doubt, he would be just as vexed if the Fort Charles garrison officer was the one to deprive him of a damn good helmsman.

While her great uncle was otherwise occupied with the sailor who was seemingly less and less injured and more and more animated by the moment, Antoinette reached for her dear Robert's hand as he rode beside her. The gentlewoman smiled up at him softly, surreptitiously behind her lace veil, a smile that said those grey eyes were entirely for him at the moment though she said not a word. A smile that said while the boys might play together for a while, she would far rather pass her time with the attentions of the man beside her.

Antoinette gently squeezed the fingers of his hand, a promise for later that the soldier returned with a warm laugh. The way to the Parakeet was not terribly difficult or convoluted to find - this was Port Royal after all, not London. And Sir Greene was genuinely rapt with the conversation he had with this intriguing young man who, he knew from the moment he spoke, was in no way a Navy man.

"Oh Master Jax, I am afraid I absolutely must beg your indulgence for another day. I should love to make the acquaintance of your young friend, but we truly do have prior engagements to meet while my niece is here in Port Royal with us."

"And at any rate, a former Admiral, simply an old man now who likes to talk far too much." Sir Greene patted the young man's knee, even as his niece turned toward him with genuine concern in her eyes.

"We are here, Monsieur Jax. The Parakeet, yes?" Antoinette asked, indicating the inn over her shoulder - while the rogue's eyes narrowed with worry - a worry she did nothing to hide from Jax, though neither the erstwhile Commander nor the blind old man could see a thing. Her gaze flicked from Nathaniel, back to Jax once more meaningfully, an unspoken plea there not from the mask of the gentlewoman, but from the rogue within. Taking Robert's offered hand from the back of his horse, Antoinette slid from her side of the carriage seat to the ground to let Jax pass.

"And perhaps on the morrow then, if you would have a moment, kind sir?" she asked, the warm voice of Antoinette just a touch... Strained. "You and your young friend? My Oncle Nathaniel does not live so far away that the walk should put you out so much, I should hope?"

Sir Greene smiled widely at his Antoinette's words, nodding his head slowly. "Of course! Oh, my niece - always with the brilliant notions. Yes, I should very much like to meet with you and your young friend if you've the chance, and the boy's parents do not mind. Any lover of the skies and the sea, young or old, can only make the very best of companions - do you not agree?"

"Oh!" The elderly man's smile widened and brightened, as that impish light flashed across his face once more. "Speaking of much younger companions? Master Jax, I do believe you should go in my stead this night to a dance with my dear Antoinette and Commander Murray. Of course bring whomever you see fit to accompany you - there should be drink, music and merriment beneath the stars."

Nathaniel clapped his hands together with delight. "Yes! What a positively perfect solution - what do you say, Commander Murray?"

There was precious little Commander Murray could say of course, beyond, "Perfect, Sir Greene."

Through teeth clenched in something that might have resembled a snarl far, far more than a gracious smile.

Most days, Nathaniel Greene made peace with the fact of his blindness. But there were days, well moments really, when he might have been sorely tempted to sell his eternal soul, simply for the chance to see Antonia's face at times like this...
Sir Greene chuckled amiably, nodding his head in approval of course. Oh, he was well aware that Jax had not given him the name of the ship - the long years of his life may have stolen away his sight, but that keen mind and even sharper wit remained honed to a razor's edge. But this sordid little jest had never been about gleening information at any rate, but rather to have a little fun at the expense of the young thief who broke into his home four years ago, and stole away with an enduring affection.

"Wonderful to meet you Master Jax, despite the unfortunate circumstances of course. Nathaniel Greene, at your service - and apparently your coach today as well," he quipped.

"Sir Greene," the Commander said with one dark eye turned meaningfully toward Jax.

Still the elderly man continued on, as if he hadn't heard in the least. "Though you have more than earned this ride, simply by virtue of your fine story. A Jesuit book of astronomy you say? So you sail and guide - a lover of the moon who rules the tides, and the stars above that keep a ship right. Helmsman then, Master Jax. I will solve your riddle of a story, and call you helmsman."

The elderly man leaned over to Jax, his voice dropping a bit as he smiled widely, sharing his own "secret" with the amiable young man. "Once they called me 'Admiral' - though I'd not recommend such a thing if you can avoid it by any means. Do not mistake me: those beautiful ships, the sailors - many a good man among them... The seas from horizon to horizon, and the roof of heaven above... Ah, there is nothing in this world to compare. But for the ruin that Kings and Parliament can make of a man's days, I would have counted every last one a blessing of our dear Lord above us."

Sir Greene chuckled warmly. "But no, no, nothing maudlin this day. Forgive me, but old men do tend to ramble on. To the Parakeet then, for a young boy with dreams of the sea and stars in his head. Antoinette, do you know the way?"

The carriage was already rounding a fountain, the same fountain in fact that Nicolette had washed in [to spectacularly pert effect] earlier, though none there could have known such a thing (But perhaps the young boy watching the passing carriage from the shadows, slowly savoring the crusty remains of a loaf of bread to make it last even longer). "Oui, Oncle Nathaniel," Antoinette replied, "I believe I do, though should I miss a turn? I imagine Monsieur Jax will set me right again."

The rogue's gloved hand reached for the book still setting in Jax's lap, lifting it gently from his hands just far enough that she could glance at the thick spine, and read the title for herself. She relinquished the book once more entirely, letting it fall back to the helmsman's lap with an approving pat of her fingers on its hard cover.

Some small part of her fought it hard, this feeling very like to gratitude to Jax. Her first thought when Sir Greene had not-so-subtly suggested visiting the Skate - if he could finagle the ship's name from Jax - had been not so much a genuine thought really, as a sickening drop of her stomach. Everything about this day was designed to keep Commander Murray's attentions - and that of his officers - far and away from the unusually busy goings on at the Dusk Skate. Though she loved the old man dearly, nothing would have upended her plans faster than dear Robert visiting that very same berth.

And then of course, there was the matter of this book. No, she could not possibly know whether Jax had truly procured this book for Luc's sake, but it was exactly as he said, a book on astronomy. And he could not possibly know, how dear that boy truly was to his Tante 'Tonia. Yet here he was, the 'grinning, chattering fool' she had not even imagined was literate, who called her 'wet nurse' and gaped at her breasts like a starving man staring at the last loaf of bread in the world - yes, here he was, offering to share this precious gift 'for the future of dreaming lads.'

Antonia's eyes lifted from the book to Jax's eyes, catching his gaze with her own beneath the veil of lace. She said nothing at all, but only offered him a smile of her own, genuine and true that shone brightly with both pleasant surprise and genuine gratitude, a small nod of her head before her eyes returned to the thoroughfare.
Oh no Dot, hope you're feeling some better soon hon. Take good care of yourself, and hopefully you'll be getting to feeling good again very, very soon.
Sounds good to me, Idle! I just finished this afternoon with the first of my finals, and kicking back and relaxing with a little writing. But definitely yes, please do post what we have, and individual characters can post as they prefer.
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