July 22nd, 2018.

There was a black door in Seaside, tucked into the mouth of an alley at the end of a stretch of run-down row houses close to the Market district, older homes that had gone badly out of style when the rest of the neighborhood decided they wanted spellboxes with electricity and climate control. Next to the door was another door, but where the first was freshly painted and sported a polished lambda dangling over it as a knocker, the second was old, green, rusty, and locked with a padlock. The grumpy old landlord for the row houses grumbled as he struggled with the lock, hauling the door open with an awful groan and rooting a toolbox out of it. He kicked it shut, cursed when he stubbed his toe, did his best to awkwardly push the padlock shut with his elbow, and hauled his tools around the corner —

— paying the strangely ornate door not even a single glance, as if it wasn't there at all.

Directions had been vague, if not hard to come by. Tahlia stepped down the recently abandoned alley, dressed a little better than she had been the night before. Black leather pants might be too hot for the weather, but they looked amazing, as did the silk blouse in a rich aubergine. Blonde hair was coiled into a knot at the back of her neck, except for a sweep of bangs that framed her eyes. She looked at the door, then at a scrap of paper in her hand, and nodded. This was it. There was only a second's hesitation before she lifted the knocker, and let it fall.

There was no hesitation at all from the door itself, which swung open the instant the knocker landed, the sound echoing through a vast-sounding space — though what opened into seemed much more cramped at first. Heavily laden tables, open trunks and chests, and shelves formed maze-like barriers within ten feet of the entrance, though there were strange rays of light visible just beyond them, highlighting the dust that hung in the air. It seemed there was an atrium on the other end of the shop, revealing part of a balcony packed with bookshelves.

Every available surface was packed with trinkets and vials, parchment and inkwells and quills, wands, staffs, and hundreds upon hundreds of distinct magical components. There was a man with long grey dreadlocks, muttering to himself in Latin as he made his way past Tahlia, holding up a recently purchased vial holding a mummified piglet. The door slammed of its own accord, then reopened when the man touched it, offering a brief glimpse of a busy street in Old Temple that he stepped out into before it shut again.

Stepping through, she sidestepped the muttering porcine bearer, watching him for a moment with a shake of her head. William was going to owe her if this went much stranger. A lot. Weekend at one of the all-inclusive spas on the coast owe her. Without him. Here and there, she paused....seeing something vaguely familiar from her brothers experiments, and allowed herself a small smile. But this was business.

Making her way through the labyrinth, she kept her eye out for the counter, or the witch herself. She was careful not to touch anything, and not to leave any piece of herself behind. One might almost think she knew more about magic than she let on.

Mallory St. Martin stood behind a pentagonal counter. She had been busy making notes in a ledger, updating inventory, but appeared to have heard or otherwise been notified of Tahlia's approach as she waited for her there, leaning forward with her hands and smiling at the blonde's approach. Her plain, fitted black tee did a decent job of hiding the stains from her alchemical work with Safiya today, but there were other splotches of red and lavender, dark green and sunny yellow on her arms, a chaotic and discolored contrast to her many tattoos.

"Hey there. Welcome to the Lyceum....You were at the Perch the other night, right?" And everywhere else. Tahlia was one of those faces that the witch kept seeing around, at the duels and a handful of other places.

She got around, that was for sure. "Hi. Thank you. I....yes, right. Congratulations, by the way." It would be absurd to pretend she hadn't overheard. "On your engagement. And the store. This is....very impressive." She wasn't quite her usual bubbly, hostess with the mostest self. Not for this. This was Tahlia just a little toned down, not least of which because she was very aware that she was possibly standing in the middle of why William found her target so....interesting. Another woman in her place might feel a twinge for doing the vampire's bidding. But, really, she'd had worse.

"I couldn't help but overhear. I don't usually. But it sounded interesting, so I thought I'd stop by..."

The witch laughed at the congratulations and dipped her head. "Thanks," she said. "It didn't happen that long ago, and it's kinda hard to talk about anything else....The shop, too," she added. Both events had transpired only a few weeks apart, she realized. "Are you a magician' a psychic" interested in divination' or our more....esoteric knowledge," as she gestured to the atrium, looking up at the two balconies above, lined with grimoires, bestiaries, obscure mythologies, celestial hierarchies, and other books that most other places simply wouldn't carry, or couldn't find to carry if they wanted to.

Her green gaze settled back on Tahlia, and though she smiled, she was sizing the other woman up. All a part of salesmanship.

"None of the above. My brother dabbles in....alchemy. Back home." Alchemy was the safest thing to call what Louis did. "I thought I might see if there was anything he couldn't get, ask him for a list. That kind of thing."

Her other comment drew a wry laugh. "Weddings will do that. All that planning for a single day. When what matters is what happens after." There was a wave of a ringless hand, Tahlia didn't look old enough to be speaking from first hand experience, but appearances were deceiving, here. "I'm more the social type. Parties....although....there is something you could help me with. Maybe."

"Alright. We have a wide range of alchemical supplies, but we keep a catalogue of everything here. Might be easier to compare to your brother's list," Mallory suggested, and straightened up from her lean on the counter. She'd given Tahlia a flicker of a smile for her comments on matrimony, but this was a shop and the woman seemed to be here to talk business, so she carried on. "What is it you need" If it's....party favors, I have a couple places that I can recommend. But I've done magical effects for a few events, and Safiya knows a few things about enchanted fireworks..."

"I will do that. Thank you." Tahlia beamed back, and tried to swallow the snicker at the thought of party favors. "No, it's not that kind of party. I've been hired to host a murder mystery party. And I'd really love it to be as realistic as possible. So....blood. Maybe some way to make it look like I've been horribly murdered..."

"Easy enough," she said. "Just don't wear anything you don't mind throwing out. How realistic are we talking" We could do red food dye, but get the right smell by burning copper salts..." She ducked down for a moment, rifling through a few vials beneath the counter.

Tahlia's lips twisted, and she let out a sigh. William would be getting billed for that too. "I'm sure I can find something. The client was....is....rather particular. As realistic as possible. 'Covered in blood' was the request. I don't think that red food dye will be sufficient..."

Mallory straightened from the counter, setting the copper salts (with a paper tag, with instructions for ritual burning) aside for now. "A client wants you to put on a murder mystery with very realistic blood" Fuck, this town never stops being weird," she laughed. "There's a couple other recipes....but, if you're not squeamish, we do have another option."

"I'm not squeamish. Not after a season in the rings." Tahlia laughed, and shook her head. "He did specify very realistic. And cost is not an issue."

"Alright. Because I'm guessing you'll want a full blood test before a stranger's blood ends up all over you," the witch narrowed her eyes slightly, her grin curling with it. "By....spilling a little," she explained, "I can conjure more of it outside of my body. Helpful when I'm using blood to draw a ritual circle....things of that nature. But I think suitable for your purposes, too," she added. "It'll mostly disappear in," she considered, "a couple of hours, but it still stains."

Tahlia blinked, her eyes widening for just a moment before the mask clicked back into place. "I don't think that will be necessary. The blood test. Unless you're contagious?" There was a subtle smirk, since she didn't think that was the intent. "So ruined clothes, but less cleanup....and I doubt he could complain about it not being realistic enough."

Mallory laughed. "No, I'm sure, but I wanted you to be sure of the same....and it's a good practice that I want my name to be associated with. I'll get tested, give you the results, and we'll put together a murder mystery. I'll have to be there to do the spell, but I can do it discreetly, and I've hosted a few events. Did your client say where he wanted it to happen?"

"The Perch. Wednesday night." The petite blonde didn't smile, although she wanted to. Mallory had offered exactly what she wanted from her. "Would you? That would be wonderful. I appreciate the offer. Better safe, right?"

"The Perch' I've hosted a few things there. I can reach out to them," she said. There was a flash of crimson over her left palm, a faint whiff of blood, and then there was a small journal on the counter where she was making a few notes. "This Wednesday' That's pretty soon....but doable." The witch paused, then, her pen stopping on the page. She looked up at Tahlia for a quiet moment, a few beats. "I don't think I ever got your name. I like to have someone's name first if I'm going to bleed all over them."

"Tahlia. You're right. It's....I keep forgetting we've never met. Similar circles." She smiled, and offered a hand, barely blinking at the blood. "I think that will be fine. And you'll be there, in case of any issues. I have to send out the invitations....flyers..."

"I'll be there for the casting, too," Mallory said. "Did you need me to draft a script' or is that taken care of?" she asked, now settling back into a lean as they dug into contract negotiations, as every service Tahlia accepted would end up on the invoice. "And if you're taking care of promotions, that frees me to deal with the Perch, set up..."

Everything had a price, after all.

((Written with Tahlia's player, with thanks! Cross-posted from another thread.))

July 26th, 2018.

Her shifts went like errant clockwork, charmingly regular, with the occasional change of tempo, or chimes that didn't quite happen when they were supposed to. Most of the faces were regulars, and she had their orders waiting by the time they took their seats. Just enough new faces to keep things interesting — and Jerry, being his usual self. In a way, she liked it — a thin thread of routine through the chaos that was the rest of her life. But then, she loved that.

The event the night before had gone well. If Tahlia spared a thought for the witch, or her fate, it didn't show. Perhaps her concerns had been washed away in the long, hot shower she'd stepped into as soon as she'd gotten home. Eddie was very thorough in making sure there wasn't a speck of blood left on her before they'd ended up in bed. She'd woken rested, and pleasantly sore in all the right places, and slipped her unofficial 'uniform' — black daisy dukes, and a crop top with "The Line" in gold script across her chest, just beneath the scooped neckline. A pair of knee-high heels, and her hair swept up in a ponytail — she looked as polished and delectable walking out as she had walking in. Waving to Rath and Jerry, she stepped out, quickly crossing the distance to the half-hidden alleyway where the Panamera sat waiting. It had been a good day, and she was already thinking ahead to the rest of her night, and whether it was going to require clothing. One hand closed on the handle of the sleek black door, the subtle thunk of the lock disengaging blending into her tug, as the Porsche purred to life.

No sooner was the door open than a pale hand pushed it shut. William stood directly behind her, close enough that she could scarcely turn without touching him, and looked down at her with a cold smile that was utterly still. His suit and his appearance were artfully disheveled, but that was expected; the only surprise was his presence.

"William. This is....a surprise." Smooth as silk she shifted from wisecracking bartender to gilt-edged professional. That smile kept her from considering his appearance a pleasant one. Back against the car, she tilted her head just enough to meet his eyes. "Did you enjoy your evening" I thought I saw you as I left, but I was in a bit of a rush to clean up."

"Seeing you still covered in blood until the end of the night was the only pleasant surprise," he replied, and let his smile grow fractionally as he set his hands on the roof of her car, caging her with his arms. There was that dangerous gleam in his eyes, again. "I thought you were good with people."

"I am good with people. I got you your little witch, didn't I" It took me ages to clean up after, and that was a rather flattering Dior I ruined in the effort." Larger men than William made a habit of looming over her, albeit for much more pleasant reasons. "And she had no idea it was anything other than a party to bring people out. I did my job."

"And when were you planning to tell me that Mallory St. Martin is a joyless tribade, or that she can skip across the Veil the moment she startles?" He struck her car with his open hand, leaving a perfectly round dent as he leaned in to bare his teeth at her, hissing through his fangs, "She refused me, all because of her....nature," he decided, and snapped his teeth near her jaw. "And you know how I loathe being refused."

Tahlia looked up at the dent in her Porsche, jade eyes hardening as they returned to the vampire. The threatened bite didn't even get a flinch, let alone the apology he was likely expecting. "I'll add that to your bill. Along with the dress. And my having to detail my car." She kept her eyes on his, utterly calm, at least on the outside. "Your research. Your target. Don't blame me for what you didn't know. You hired me to host a party, and bring her in. I did what you paid me for. No more. No less. Your failure to close the deal is hardly my problem, darling."

Smack. He slapped her across the mouth with enough force to split her lip and snap her chin away from him. "Believe me, Tahlia — it will be." He brushed past her, disappearing into the deepening darkness of the alley, though every silent step was followed by Tahlia's vengeful stare.

((Written with Tahlia's player, with thanks! Cross-posted from the Chrysalis thread.))

Tahlia braced against the wall, fingers fumbling blindly for her phone as she tried to push herself to her feet, pausing only once to be sick. Taking a deep breath, she managed to find the number she wanted, and pressed send.

Conner looked down at the number and chuckled. Tossing his cigarette outside the backdoor, he answered it. "Oi, just got out. Still trying to get me at the view, eh?"

She breathed a thank you to whatever deity got stuck watching over her. "Nuhuh...not tonight. Some guy thought I looked easy...didn't make it to the car." There was a stretch of silence, just the hint of her breathing across the microphone. "I think he's gone..."

The tone of her voice had him tensing instantly. He straightened, steps taking him quickly down the alley. "Where are you, lass?"

"Alley...half a block, maybe?" She coughed, and cursed. "Why do I never get jumped by tiny guys" Ow..." She took a careful step, then another, clutching the tote bag. After all that...she wasn't going to lose it.

"Who was it?" Or what was it' He ran to the mouth of the alley he was in, turned the corner and jogged to the next one, looking both ways. Nothing. He turned and started in the opposite direction.

"Some thug..." She leaned against the brick, aiming for the moonlight she could see against the shadows. "Threw me against the wall, tried..." Her eyes narrowed as she reached the end of the alley and wobbled without something to hold her up. "I'm going to need to get new blades..."

As she reached the end of the alley, so did he. He was there coming around the corner. He lowered the phone and reached out to grab her, one arm around her waist to hold her up, tucking his own phone into his pocket. "I got you."

She was still dressed, although her shirt was wet with blood, and so was the length of her hair on the right side. Sinking against his chest, she hissed as her ribs protested, tensing for a moment until he spoke, and she slowly tilted her head back to look up at him. "I think...I might need to ask for that safe place now..."

He could smell the blood. Grimaced as he felt how much there seemed to be. "Aye." He tipped his head back to try to get a look at her condition.

It wasn't all hers. She would swear none of it was, but the lie was visible, barely trickling from two puncture marks at her throat, half hidden by the sodden strands. There was what promised to be a lovely bruise along her cheek and fading into her temple. Farther down, and harder to see with her clinging tightly, was a subtle bruise across her ribs, and what could have been the imprint of a shoe, or a boot, the point blossoming across her ribs on the left side. "I hit my head. It hurts...and I just...fuzzy."

"Alright, lass." His low tone soothing. "Can you walk?" He took an experimental step forward to test her condition.

She nodded, and immediately regretted the motion. "Yeah...can't drive though. The back of her head should have been wet, and wasn't. But she could put one foot in front of the other.

"Alright." He wasn't convinced but he started her walking, slow and steady, supporting as much of her weight as he could with an arm around her. "Close by, lass." He reassured, his eyes darting as they walked.

"If you're offering to carry me..." Well, her sense of humor at least seemed to be struggling to the surface. "I'm not going to say no."

"You're having trouble breathing, aye?" He could tell by the way she spoke, the shallow sound of her breath. "Might have cracked a rib. Iffin I carry you that far, could make the hurting worse, love."

"I...yeah." She hated to admit how much it hurt, but she couldn't do that and fight down the panic at how little air she could manage to draw in at the same time. "Ok ok...just...you can drive, right' I mean...you know how?"

He chuckled. "I won't take offense to that." He'd seen her car before, recognized it even as they approached in the dark. "Keys."

She reached for the keys, and hissed in pain, handing them over and feeling for her phone. She hadn't lost it, thankfully.

The keyless entry beeped on approach. He pulled open the passenger door, reached to tip the seat back for less pressure on her ribs. Then turned to help her inside. "Ready?" Might not be pleasant.

"No. But..." She shrugged, and her face scrunched up tight. That was a mistake. Lips pressed firmly together, she got into the car, tucked the tote behind her legs, and fished out her phone. She needed to let Eddie know she wasn't coming home, and let Jerry know the drop would be...late.

He carefully locked her in the car. Then he looked around. He didn't want to leave her, but he only had one shot at this. It took a few moments to run down the alley again. Back to the spot where he'd found her, and then in the direction he came. Slowing his steps he looked around, looking for anything left behind, any sign of who was responsible for what happened. He looked up too, for lighted windows, nearby doorways, any lead at all.

In the litter was a dagger, bloodied and discarded, with another a few feet away, glinting silver but wet with blood. She'd put up a fight, clearly. Back in the car, she struggled to send the necessary texts, her eyes drifting shut randomly before she'd start awake, and try not to panic when she couldn't catch her breath.

From thin air he pulled a canvas rag. He used it to pick up and then wrap the daggers together. There was no time to do much else. He jogged back around the corner to the car. Another click, and he slid inside the driver's seat. He pushed the seat back. "How're you doing over there lass?" The car purred to life and he looked over at her as he put it in gear.

She'd set her head down, making the most of shallow breaths. "I'm...ok...I mean..." There was a soft cough, followed by a whine. "Ok, no, I'm not...but I heal...quick."

He guided the car off the curb and started in the direction of his place, her sporty car eating pavement. Then offered his hand to her. "Give me your hand.” There was a slow blink, and she slipped her hand into his, too hurt to ask why.

His jaw tightened. It was subtle and slow. There were no flashing fancy lights to show what had happened. No sound that accompanied the moment. But as soon as their hands were joined together, her pain was slightly drawn away. Not entirely gone, but eased. Bearable. His voice low and gravelly, "Better?"

"Conner..you don't..." Another cough, but this time she didn't feel like crying. The pain-induced nausea was ebbing. "...thank you...yeah..." She blinked up at him, a subtle ring of silver around those peridot eyes of hers. "I promise I didn't get mugged to make you take me home..." The corner of her lip twitched, trying to smile.

"Och, lass." He glanced aside at her. "The offer was there no matter the need." She needn't have had an excuse to begin with. He gently released her hand so he could shift gears, pulling behind a brick building and slowing to a stop.

She wasn't used to offers for nothing and didn't really know how to respond. Tahlia left her hand where he'd let it go, and let out a breath, then drew in another, shallow, but slower. "We here?"

"Aye." He took a shallow breath himself, then shifted out of the front seat. Moving around to the passenger side, he pulled open her door, then bent down to help her out. This time, however, it was obvious he planned to carry her, one arm moving to slip beneath her knees. "Come towards me, lass."

Reaching down, she grabbed the bag, and put it next to her - easier to reach once she'd curled against his chest, shifting her weight to make it easier for him to pick her up, one arm sliding easily over his shoulders. It hurt, but she could manage it. And she was a tiny thing. "Your shirt..."

"Bill you for the dry cleaning." He grinned, then pulled her fully into his arms, making sure she had the bag with her since it was obviously important. He kicked the door shut, then moved around towards the building. There was not much to see from here, the back of the building. The darkness was so thick, it didn't even seem natural. As they headed for a dark doorway, she might feel the first of many wards they would pass through on their way inside. The door opened on its own before he reached it, bathing them in bright fluorescent light, letting them into a nondescript vestibule. An elevator was waiting for them. He angled them through, hit the button for the fifth and top floor. The doors closed, and up they went.

The darkness was soothing, and so was the feeling of warmth, the way he was careful not to jostle her more than he had to. The bag was...well it was everything from that night. With so many duels, there had been a fair amount of trade, and some upsets. Not to mention the book itself. Letting her head rest on his shoulder, she drifted, only to gasp and bury her face into the crook of his neck, hiding from the bright lights, and clinging tightly as the movement tugged at the wounds at her throat.

It took a while for Cristoval to pick up the phone. Seven rings, starting the eighth. There's a telephone room down the hall, he'd said. If I'm there, then I'll hear it. The healer was tired, friendly enough, but quick and to the point. Injuries. Did they know what attacked her. Where are you? He wasn't far, he assured Conner; he'd be right there.

Conner had to time it right or Val would never find them. The building where he lived was hidden in shadow, pressed between Dockside warehouses and boxy factory buildings. A person could stand immediately before it and not see it. Conner met Val downstairs with a firm handshake and a relieved exhale.

In the elevator, he reiterated the concerns he had shared on the phone: that Tahlia might have a concussion, that she might have multiple broken ribs, and most concerning, that she might be having an adverse reaction to a vampire bite. “Seen enough at the fights to know when help’s needed.”

Cristoval had run over from his apartment, though the effort hadn’t winded him much. It was the middle of the night, but his eyes were bright and alert, and he listened to Conner, nodding gravely at the mention of the bite. “I might not be able to mend her ribs on my own. The rest...” He trailed off, fingering the pendant of the Flickering Flame that he wore out in the open tonight. There was another, though, tucked out of sight, attached to a beaded chain. There was a khaki-colored bag over his shoulder, worn at the seams and carefully turned inside out.

As the elevator doors slid open, he shifted the old bag off of his shoulder, shifting the glass vials and tin cases within, and gave the caller a warm, reassuring smile. “I can certainly take care of the rest. I believe I’ve seen worse.”

Conner was looking a bit rough around the edges himself, holding himself more tightly than usual. But he gestured to welcome Val through the open elevator doors into the apartment.

Showered, and draped in what she strongly suspected was one of his t-shirts, Tahlia had tucked herself back on the worn-in couch, tousled blonde waves spilling over her shoulders. She wasn’t intentionally trying to hide the bite, which was clean, if still red and inflamed. It had stopped bleeding - the shower had given her the opportunity to clean the last of the vampiric taint from her blood, and she was feeling less queasy. Still woozy though, which is why her head rested on the arm of the couch, and her legs were half curled beneath her. The bruising on her ribs were covered, but there was still the eggplant and navy framing one jade eye, even if she did hold her head in such a way as to try to hide the worst of it. Her phone was in one hand, and she tapped away at it with the other, scrolling occasionally from one message to the next. It kept her from thinking, for a few minutes.

Val had, in fact, seen worse, though the extent of her injuries was surprising to behold all at once. “Tahlia,” he said, and turned a similar smile on her. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as he drew close enough to see the angry wound on her neck. He set his bag down on the edge of the Persian rug and pulled his hair back into a ponytail as he asked her, “How are you feeling"”

Conner faded back as Val got to work. Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned back against the desk and watched silently, eyes focused as much, if not more, on the healer rather than the patient.

The little blonde blinked, and tensed before realizing she didn’t really want to move. “Valito. Hey. I kinda figured he’d call you…” It took her a moment to consider the question, and how much she wanted to answer. “Fuzzy. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did—” A brief glance in Conner’s direction - she appreciated what he’d done, but now she owed him, and that wasn’t a favorite. “Tired. Kind of like something is missing. Just empty and achy.”

“That would be your blood,” Valito replied, with a touch of humor in his voice. “But your body,” he added as he removed a pair of gloves from his bag, snapping them on, “knows how to make more. Can you look at me"” he asked her, staring into her eyes with a faint frown of concentration. “And is it alright if I touch you?” he asked, that a little quieter, distracted as he glanced over the bruising around one eye.

His bag lay open. Currently there were several vials of ointments, rubbing alcohol, and anesthetic, as well as tin cases for bandages and various implements, obstructing the view of the interior.

Tahlia gave a little nod. It hurt, but it didn’t make the world spin as much as it had. “Yeah, it’s ok.” She tilted her head to let him get a better look at the bruising. It had been a glancing blow, enough to cause some glorious coloring, but she’d deflected enough to keep the damage to a minimum. The pale green gaze didn’t waver, and she didn’t show any serious signs of concussion. But she sat quietly, and followed his instructions, letting him examine the injuries he could see to his satisfaction.

He touched his gloved fingertips to a few tender spots, murmuring an apology as he did, this too distracted by his focus on his work. He asked to see her ribs, then poked a bit there when she lifted up the side of her shirt.

It was a good thing she wasn't shy, unashamedly pulling the shirt up to expose the equally colorful bruising on her ribcage. But she didn't linger, didn't flaunt, perhaps the clearest indication that she fully understood how lucky she was it hadn't been worse.

As she straightened up, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together, affecting a grave expression. “Tahlia....I’m afraid you’ve contracted latric ursanthropy. At the next full moon of Arabrab, you’ll turn into a were-panda.”

He looked over his shoulder at Conner solemnly. “We should start stockpiling bamboo as soon as possible.”

He snorted, his eyes showing appreciation of the joke while his mouth retained its tight draw. A quick reach brought a glass into his hand, shortly filled with whiskey. He leaned against the counter and drank, eyes looking past the pair at the couch to the city lights just beyond the window.

“I what? A were-panda"” she stared at Valito in consternation for a moment, occasionally mouthing ‘were-panda’ under her breath. “It couldn't have been a seal, no...of course not.” Flushing gently, she tucked her hair behind her ear and winced as she hit the bruising. “Shoots and leaves for the rest of my life. I wonder if Eddie will mind I'm a vegetarian…” There was a subtle wink to let them know she was in on it. “So, I'll live then"”

Val laughed warmly and nodded, "You'll live. But first I'm going to want to draw out the corruption from your bite, then call upon a little extra help," lifting the pendant of his goddess with his thumb, "to lessen the extent of your injuries. And even then, you should take a few days of physical and mental rest — limit how much time you spend on reading, correspondence, or crossword puzzles," he added with a little more of a smile. "As for your ribs....no sports, no activity or exercise that makes you feel any pain there, and no heavy lifting. You should still get up and stretch, move around....but we can go over recommended treatments once I'm done."

He directed her attention back to his hand, letting the pendant rest against his palm. "This is divine magic, a....gift from the Flickering Flame. A goddess of light." His gaze ticked over to Conner, lingering for a beat as he leaned against the counter....then back to Tahlia. "She's going to help you heal....as long as that's alright with you," he added. "Have you had any adverse reactions to this kind of magic, that you know of?" with an earnest look.

“N-not that I know of, no…” She wasn’t used to such things, obviously, from the way her eyes darted between the two men. “I’m not real thrilled about the idea of being inactive too long…” And Eddie wouldn’t be either, that much she could count on. “There isn’t any corruption left. I’m pretty sure. But go ahead and do what...well I guess what you can.” Tahlia tried to temper her response with a hesitant smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he was skilled, she’d seen what he could do at the Hold. Her head was still reeling from the fight, and the fact that someone out there had her blood, and she didn’t know why. Forgetting for a moment that it was unwise, she took a deep breath, her lips thinning immediately with a muffled whine of pain.

“You shouldn’t take deep breaths like that. Try bracing a pillow against your chest if you need to cough,” he advised her. “And restful inactivity isn’t thrilling, I understand....but it’s the fastest road to recovery.” He tipped his head and gave her the biggest, most reassuring smile he could find. “Trust me.”

Then he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and clasped his hand around the emblem of the Flickering Flame. A warm, soothing light leaked out from between his fingers, like he’d cupped his hand around a flashlight, and he spent several minutes moving it over different points in her body. The bite on her neck, which grew smaller and less swollen. The bruising around her eye, and the effects of the concussion. The ache in her ribs lessened, too, though not by removing the pain itself as Conner had, but mitigating it at its source.

When he was done, he blew out a slow breath, as if he’d been holding it all along. It had required a great deal of focus on his part, yet he seemed more relaxed now if anything, as if emerging from a meditative state.

With Val apparently finished with his work, Conner pushed into motion again to get a glass of cold water for the healer. He set it on the end of the counter, a silent offer.

The touch of the light felt warm against her skin, and she let her eyes close, the short, shallow breaths smoothing out and slowing. She couldn’t take a deep breath, not yet, but they were a little fuller, and she could feel the ribs start to knit together. She had hardly noticed the dull throb in her skull until it abated, but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Better"” Val asked with a gentle smile. He was already shifting out of his seat for the offered water. His steps were slow like the way he blinked, like a sleepy cat lounging in the sun, and he set his back carefully against the edge of the counter as he collected his glass.

He grunted, wiggled to make his back more comfortable, and pulled a small preserves jar from his jacket pocket. It contained about a dozen dark green pills of blended herbs, coated with a light amber syrup to counter the bitterness. He glanced down the counter at Conner, nodded encouragingly, and held out two fingers.

Two pills to help the pain — something that wouldn’t react with alcohol or other substances, useful to have on hand at festivals like Burning RhyDin.

Conner eyed the jar, then shifted so he could reach it. He took a testing sniff inside before removing two pills and swallowing them in quick succession followed by a drink of whiskey. He returned the jar to the counter with a nod to Val. "Thanks." He straightened and started to cross back towards Tahlia while he directed his question to Val. "What do I owe you?"

The healer rumbled thoughtfully as he screwed the cap back onto the jar, trailing Conner to the couch and kneeling by his bag. “If you could look in on my roommates while I’m out in the desert, it’d be a great burden off my mind,” he decided. He packed slowly, studying Tahlia as he did. Her gaze, her demeanor.

Her chest rose and fell, mostly even, although there was the occasional hitch as her muscles caught automatic responses they weren’t ready for. Blood loss, pain, and the fading adrenaline from the fight in the alley had left her wrung out, and the easing of those had her barely trying to keep her eyes open. She knew she was safe enough to rest at least a little, enough to let her get home. A slow blink, and she managed to focus on the healer for a moment. “Thank you…” Her gaze shifted to Conner, before thick lashes fell back over her eyes, and she let herself sink into sleep.

Conner looked back at Val, brow furrowed, as he grabbed a soft throw blanket from the end of the couch. Attention returned to Tahlia while he gently settled the blanket over her legs, quietly commanding, "Sleep." He watched her eyes close and her breath even, before moving away.

Stepping away from the couch, he waited beside the elevator doors for Val to finish packing. When the man neared, he kept his voice low as he asked, "Your roommates?"

Val cracked a grin at Conner. “The plants in my care, and the cats that come and go as they please. Elfroot in the watering can and the odd can of tuna keep them at peace....but it’s a fragile truce. You seem like a capable diplomat,” he added with a chuckle, shifting his bag as he followed him into the elevator.

Conner stared at him. "Can't I just… buy you a beer or something, mate?" He chuckled as the doors closed.

September 15, 2018

Reggie had been here before, more than once truth to be told. It wasn't always business of course. Sometimes it was just because. Today was supposed to be business, and that meant lugging the backpack loaded with gear. That might sound okay from the point of view of the uninitiated. For him it meant a long walk across town with upwards of thirty pounds of equipment stuffed into a pack designed for half that. He wouldn't mind, except that it was the company that mattered....and the fact that he was sweating like a grunter in the noonday sun. This was a posh place, and honestly he hated to come here reeking of sweat. He was here though, and the air conditioned lobby had helped to at least dry his skin. The hair was another story, though at least he could push it back from his eyes and be relatively confident that it would stay there for a while. Maybe he shouldn't have worn the leather jacket' Reggie shook his head, chastising himself. Eddie always wore one, Reggie could endure for a little while, right' The nice part about being who he was...people tended not to notice him so making it to the elevator was not a problem. It was simpler than hacking the controls to get the car to move upwards into penthouse land, not that this was difficult either, really. Still maybe his ringing of the doorbell would come as a shock to the person that dwelt beyond" Reggie was full of wishful thinking lately.

Tahlia opened the door, dressed in a pair of yoga pants, and an oversized t-shirt knotted at her waist. Blonde hair was drawn up in a ponytail, and if she was wearing makeup, it wasn't immediately obvious. The fact that Reg had been getting...well, more like Eddie...hadn't escaped her. She hadn't mentioned it to the original, to be honest, she'd been too overjoyed at getting word to think of it. Smiling, she waved him inside, and turned to saunter in to the kitchen. "Go ahead and get yourself set up - I'll grab drinks. You sneak in, or break fingers?"

"My fingers are all intact." He makes a show of holding them up so Tahlia can see them. "Do you have a lot of problems with fingers breaking" It's probably the card reader, or maybe the tension on the floor buttons. I might be able to fix that for you." Self consciously he slid his hands into his pockets and stepped further inside. "I was hoping to see..." Reggie stopped talking, the other obviously wasn't here and he didn't know what to make of that. He shuffled his way over to the couch and unbound his shoulders from the heavy pack. "So...your call seemed urgent."

"Not yours...someone else's. It's...been a slight concern, lately. Hopefully just a one time thing..." She looked out at the ocean, and shook her head. "He's still away. Business. You...you know how he is. He'll be back. Right' You said he always comes back...or Saul did." She might be holding on to that assurance more than she let on. "Huh' Oh, yeah. I've...got myself in a little over my head, Pop Tart...I could really use your help..." Reggie peered at Tahlia, eyebrows lowering. "Business" How long has it been?" He started to unpack his things, mostly a slew of *borrowed* laptops and a few other things that would plug and play as he required. "Gimme a minute to recharge and we can get down to work. His familiarity with the place would have become obvious once Reggie made his way through the sitting room, and the door leading to the kitchen. "HEY! Who ate all my pop tarts"!" He'd have sworn there was still an entire box up there the last time he'd been by. Sure it had been a while, but seriously Tahlia didn't eat Pop Tarts....like ever.

"She ate the Pop Tarts" Seriously?" A laugh burst from her lips, gone a moment later. "A little over a month. It feels...longer." She'd seen him more recently, of course, but they'd kept word of her attack under wraps. "Yeah...go ahead...you know your way around. Let me see if there's still that box hidden...." Tahlia ducked down, bending to check a bottom cabinet. There was some rummaging and then...."Ha! Found 'em. Strawberry..." Backing out from the cabinet, she held out the box like a prize.

Jackpot. "Hey, I take care of you...don't I?" She waved him off, grabbing a plate, and sticking the barely-food items into the toaster.

Reggie took the box like she was handing out hundred dollar bills, that poor lid never had a chance. "A month?" It'd been longer for him, but that wasn't unusual really. "That surprises me. He's usually so..." Whatever else Reggie had to say was muffled by the mouthful of pop tart that he'd taken. He didn't linger in the kitchen, too many memories and he wasn't altogether sure what surfaces were actually not...used. He was back in the living room, opening laptops and and holding the fake danish between his teeth. "So, what exactly did you need from me?" He'd obviously been paid in advance.

"So...what?" She was honestly curious. Reggie seemed to know the secretive Selkie better than anyone - Tahlia was nearly certain better than she did, some days. "I need you to backdoor into the Golden Bough. You've heard about the kids that have been going missing...?" She was certain he had, but it was an good an introduction as any. And she genuinely wasn't sure how he'd react to how she was getting the information...

"Wait, who ate them?" It had just registered that Tahlia had said, she.

"The same person who broke the desk clerk's fingers. She'll...be back." She hoped so, anyway.

"Uhm....So Eddie." Reggie planted his elbow and pinched the bridge of his nose, he had a big mouth. "The Gambling place?" A complex strand of cables came out of the backpack, the ends meticulously plugged in from one computer to the next, though he failed to explain any of the 'why' of it. "Sure i've heard of the abducshuns. Everyone on my block has." And a few others probably, but honestly nobody wanted Reggie...not like that anyway. "You looking to do a little illegal betting" I got this great worm that'll give you the down card for any online dealer."

"He's always that. Even...when he isn't here." The black pearl was just visible under the knot of her shirt, and there was a subtle brush of fingers across it. "Yeah, the gambling place. And no...I'm not looking to bet. I...have an open line of credit." It was one way to put it. "Yeah...the thing is...I need their network decoded. For information." Setting down a glass of soda, she took her bourbon, and flopped onto the

"What kind of information?" He pressed the power buttons on the other laptops filling the air with the sound of overworking fans. The odd thing was that all of the information ticked up on the central screen, the others remained dark. "I mean, it matters because....Boom!..." the screen on the left flared to life with the Golden Bough's website. "...because it'll help me know the 'where' to look." The screen on the right came alive then, scrolling code faster than the eye could pick out symbols. Reggie shifted his hands to that keyboard and typed in a string of letters numbers and symbols. The screen flashed the word Denied over and over again. "Gonna be a little bit while the locksmith works." He sat back, finally looking away from the screens to Tahlia, he chewed his lip even though his hand still held the remnants of a pop tart. "He'll be back, he always comes back." Whether that was to reassure her or him was harder to figure out. "She'll have to break more than my fingers if she wants my staples...whoever she is."

"Everything" I don't...really know. They got someone they shouldn't have. And I know she's...well, she's there. Somewhere." Tahlia ran her hand through her ponytail, and sighed. "But I can't just go looking for her. I need to be able to get the information to someone else. I can't do anything with it. Not and stay useful." Not to mention safe. Her hand slid to her throat, and she took a large swallow of bourbon. "It can't trace back, and I know you know how to do that." There was a moment of silence, and she just...nodded. "I know. I just...wish he was already. And I wouldn't say that to her. She might."

"Everything?" He shoved the last of the pop tart into his mouth and focused on the screen that was still denying him access. "Admin level access..." He nodded to himself twice before stopping the scroll and adding in a few more lines of code. "I wouldn't worry about the backtrack. That device right there is an IP shuffler. It grabs your address, and randomizes the numbers that get displayed. Right now the site thinks were on an entirely different continent. You're not the only one that misses him, but think of it this way. If he was here, there wouldn't be any stealthy stuff happening. Pretty much kick in the door and blaze away." If there was anything Reggie knew it was that while Eddie could do subtle, he liked to wake up the neighborhood. "You don't have to worry about me. Nobody wants to have much to do with me one way or another." There were those who knew what he could do of course, but Reggie doubted that any of them would give him a second look if he didn't have these particular skills. He reached for the soda and took a sip. "Not that I blame em."

"He didn't kick in doors in Westport..." She knew Reggie was right, though. Eddie wouldn't be thrilled about her putting herself in the kind of danger she was, especially after the vampire attack. She wasn't going to mention that...it was over, and she was...relatively safe. Except from Adder himself. "Reg...you know that isn't true. I know you've been busy. And I'm sure Eddie wouldn't mind if you took the Runner out...I can hardly drive it, and you know the engine doesn't like to sit too long..." She was trying to coax him...lure him out. She was worried about him. "And you can always come hang out here. There's the hot tub."

"Tch..." Reggie did his best to keep his face expressionless, though he did like to drive the big purple car. His effort was rewarded when the central screen popped to life again. "You know I don't mean you and Eddie. I just mean there ain't no real benefit in bothering with me.I don't mind really, kinda chose it for myself." He did nod though at Tahlia's reference to Westport. "He can be a calculating cuss. I think he prefers action though. "I'm in, but somehow I doubt that we'll find what you're looking for through the normal CCtv cameras." Reggie still pulled up the video feeds, they were showing on that left hand screen. On the center he scrolled through the files, clicking on the one for room service. "We might find her easier by looking at what rooms are ordering...and how often. Correlate that with rooms that have had the same occupancy for...how long has this person been missing?"

"I'm not sure...the message I got wasn't exactly...coherent. Can you just...I don't know, shrink the files" Wait...can you get into Adder's files?" It was a dangerous suggestion, but if anyone would have all the answers, he would. "There's a computer in his office, but it's probably encrypted heavily." She knew how much he loved the car. "You know you're worth more than some random street kid. And I know he does...not exactly much for words. But that's ok." They were bouncing between topics...mostly because Tahlia was trying to stay on topic and not just...talk about Eddie. "Can you just...grab all the files" And maybe compress them on something like...a sim card?" She was thinking of information exchange, and keeping herself, and Reggie, protected. At least Eddie was safely away.

Reggie stared at Tahlia like she had two heads, and both of them were scowling at him. It wasn't her fault he supposed, sometimes it was like they were speaking entirely different languages. "I can get in, though I'll have to get through his firewall and any encryptions he might have. When Blowfish came out I put my pin prick code together. When Twofish happened I came up with double hook. Now I try to stay ahead of the curve." Reggie laced his fingers, extended his palms outwards until the knuckles in his hands popped before raising them over his head, stretching until his shoulders and spine popped. Only then did he release them, arcing them down to the side and bringing them back together as prayer hands in front of him as he exhaled. "This is where my kung fu is best." He grinned broadly at Tahlia, called up an input box and simply typed. Initiate Program/S'Mores.exe.

Tahlia just - blinked. Several times in succession, slow controlled bats of those wide green eyes. She hadn't the foggiest idea what he was talking about, but assumed from the sudden zen master moment that he had a plan. Grinning back, she leaned over and kissed his temple. "That's my Reg. This is why I only ever call you, Pop Tart. You never let me down." Eddie didn't either, but calling him right now wouldn't do either of them any good. "Don't worry about interpreting it...wait...do you..."

The little blonde took a breath, and tried to translate what she had in her head. "Can we like, zip the info on one, and put a....magnifying glass on another" I don't need to see the information, I just have to get it to someone. If they're separate...it's like the zip drives. From the Gala." She still had those, stashed in places only she knew about. "That way they're only useful if you have both pieces." They might speak different languages, but so far, the kid had never not been able to translate her, or Eddie for that matter. She was pretty sure it was at least a little because he never wanted to tell either of them no.

"I can do a lot of things, frag out the data between sim cards so that you'd need both to have anything. I could arrange for a sign, countersign application to verify that the cards in question are not fakes or copies. I could arrange for a black box system, one that will keep the cards active and download anytime this Adder guy saves anything. I can't make it all visible on a card though, because storage capacity is exceeded by the amount of information." He wasn't sure what she needed, and unfortunately no amount of kisses would change the laws of physics. "Leaving this program in place isn't an option so, if you want something viewable, you'll have to pick what it is." He wanted another pop tart, but taking one before business was complete was a little like asking for both halves of a payment upfront.

"No..something they've got to put on a computer is best." Tahlia closed her eyes, trying to think this through. This was when she missed Eddie the most. He was more familiar with all of this then she was, even if it wasn't by much. Her plays had always depended on a fairly basic formula, that didn't require the level of technology Reggie and Eddie seemed to take for granted. "Can we do the countersign thing...so they need to upload both to get the information' Does that...does that make sense?" There was a subtle snap from the kitchen, the toaster finishing its work. The truth was she was just glad for the company. Toaster pastry was a small price to pay, and there'd likely be some cash in it as well.

Reggie unzipped the front pocket of his backpack and a black box about the size of his palm. Next came a USB cable and a pair of micro cards. He plugged the cable into his computer then into the box before pushing the cards into place. A pair of LED's on the face of the box lit up as he locked the cards into place. "You'll need this too, in order to get the data back together." He dragged and dropped the contents of Adder's hard drive into the window that popped up, the fans of all three computers started working overtime. "I didn't use identical cards, because you'd need to mark them so you know which goes into slot A and which into B. You'll have to remember the difference. The way this works is A gets the sign, B gets the counter. It's randomized but they'll only recognize each other. I could make a copy of either but they'd fail that initial handshake even though all the other data is the same."

He looked up as the toaster sounded, eyes going to the kitchen. "Sounds like they're playing my song in there." He'd have beamed at the comment once, he was much too cool for that kind of thing now. Cool and absolutely serious! Someone had to be, right"

It looked better on him than it had, once upon a time. But she knew in there somewhere was the kid who had eaten licorice pipes in her bathroom, and flushed when she and Eddie got lost in each other. He just seemed to feel like he had to fill those shoes while the big man was away. "Sounds like it...I think I might have extra icing from the box of apple cinnamon...if you want it." Rising from the couch, she rumpled his hair, and sauntered off to the kitchen. She understood - why else was she wearing one of Eddie's shirts" She'd saved the last voicemail he'd left her too, just to hear his voice. Dropping the Pop Tarts onto a plate, she grabbed the extra icing, just in case.

Once the download was complete Reggie disconnected the cable from the computer. "You sure extra icing isn't just for kids?" He hadn't felt much like a kid lately, he wouldn't admit it to anyone either, but he hadn't felt much like a person. That didn't stop him from covering his tracks with the thing that made S'Mores best, melty gooey marshmallow. "Today, everyone's a winner." In his estimation there were two ways to cover his infiltration into the casino's servers. Perhaps it would have been smarter to leave no traces, but the rest of him wanted it to be seen as something else. He wouldn't see it happen, but he knew that as soon as he'd disengaged the coin machines would start paying out at twice their normal rate. They'd know they'd been hacked, but it would look like that was the intention all along.

(written with Reggie's player, with much thanks)