"Mommy!" Angel giggled up a storm as she stared into her tiny hands just to see it, "Come see it, Mommy!" She sat in the tall summer grass that crinkled under those shiny patent leather shoes like straw at Blood Moon. "Mommy hurry before it get's away!" Her blonde curls surrounded her face as she stole a glance at her prisoner once more. The pale blue of her dress set her pale skin shimmering like her mother's in the moon light.

"And just what has my brave bug hunter caught?" Miranda chuckled as she waded through the grass. Her hair pinned back in a messy bun with a few stubborn curls framing her face. The sage green and silver of her dress making her hair stand out all the more even in the pale moon light. "Angel my dear, be nice to your captive." She teased while resting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Oh...I see it has escaped." Face wrinkled up from trying to hold back laughter.

"Hey now! No fair!" Angel nearly going cross eyed as the firefly sat on the tip of her nose. "Hey....hey! Fire buggy!" She jumped up as it started to fly away. "Come back fire buggy!" Pouting, hand stretched out to the sky as if her small hands could pull down the stars themselves if she tried hard enough.

And on some cosmic level, just as Angel played with the firefly, so too did other forces play with her; some with the intent of a more thoughtless child, who would have ripped the wings off the firefly - but thankfully some with the same playful affection that Angel exhibited now. The question then, this otherwise beautiful summer evening was thus - what was faster; the speed of light....or the speed of darkness" The aerial display above " the fireflies - were more than just for show, and it slowly increased in intensity - and to what any true naturist would be able to tell, eventually, was mild panic and....The desire to hide.

The air alighted with fireflies in the silence and still, left by the sudden departure of their natural predators, as a lithe, dark shape padded through the long grass. Its dark head bobbed lightly above the wispy beards of the field grass, eyes shining in the barest of moonlight. And it was joined by another and another....mangy shapes, cut from the darkness and: ....hunting. The three great, dark cats - the Pride of Oblivion, sent with the command....'Fetch....the gatewalker.'

The Empty. Oblivion. And its breath as it quietly drew closer at a crouch didn't speak of fetidness, or raw and rank rotted meat, as would a mundane animal - but instead filled the air with an empathic sense of mute horror and despair. A black tongue slithered from its mouth, forked, to lick the sides of its lips as it now crouched as Angel did - hind end rising into the air just as its face sank downwards. And its tail, switching through the long grass and thumping loudly from side to side against the ground - would dare give away its presence to....the Guardian it was told to be watchful for.... In the distance, towards the Bristle Crios compound - that place so many called home - a cadre of deep, lupine howls arose, and though the sky was clear - it echoed with thunder of a matching distance.

She found her breath catching at something she couldn't see, and tried to stay calm. Slowly drawing closer to Angel. "What is it you see, darling?" Mint green eyes searching, but all the while only finding movements to let her know she hadn't lost track of her senses to fear. Without thought her hand reaching into her pocket for what Kaius had given her. "Remember play nice." She forced a smile, so Angel wouldn't become nervous or afraid, against every fibre of her being.

"Angel, find him!" Miranda used her body to block her daughter as best she could. There was no need to say who as her fingers freely placed it in her daughter's hands. Angel's abilities were still growing and with the stone it would take her someplace safe even if she didn't know exactly how to do it on her own yet. "To hell if you will take my daughter from me!" Mint green eyes burned silver. Liquid metal pooled around them both scorching the ground as that wicked grin claimed her gentle features. "You cannot kill what the fires have already burned." No command left her lips, save for the twitch of her finger. The metal consumed them both in a sphere. Flawless as it reflected what was round them showing no mercy. It couldn't hold long, but long enough.

No matter how many times she had seen her mother do it, Angel still gasped. She ducked down behind her mother's back, shaking at the words that had been said. "But mommy," She felt the heat and weight of the object in her hands. "I love you, mommy." Tears rolled down her face as Angel's own shadow consumed her. Guiding her to ?the him' Miranda had spoke of. Stumbling out of a shadow surrounded by white roses, she screamed. Someone had to hear her. Someone had to help Mommy.

His voice comforting and reassuring, familiar in cadence and tone - a hint of some foreign accent she'd perhaps heard before, but not the same man that she'd sought - for reasons only that man or the one she was now with, could answer. Eyes the color of swirling chrome looked up over his shoulder at her awaiting her answer, while at the same time a pack of five hounds entered the clearing of the Glen - and again, baring down hard on the Empty Beasts and Miranda.

More tears poured free, gasping between sobs as she tried to explain. "Mommy and I were chasing fire buggies and...The big puppy came and I wanted to be friends, but...but..." Crying all the harder. "A bad man came and said to take me away and kill mommy! I don't want mommy to die!" That last sentence echoed through the rose garden. Blossoms stood at attention and burst open as if to catch her tears. Quivering as if a shock wave had burst through them, "I don't want her to die, please!" She begged between sobs, tiny hands balling up in the fabric of his clothing. Unsure of what more she could do.

Panthers, Hounds, and down to a man - or the image of one, and moving closer in flickering half ethereal footsteps ? though no blade of grass would be disturbed by his ethereal passing, "You fight in vain, woman - time is on my side. And the girl will be mine....to suck dry of all that delicious....power. Then....I'll be strong enough to consume the rest of the Coven....then..." the figure still strode, and gave pause only when close to Miranda - though out of the line of fire in regards to the fighting, a Gateway opened.

The figure on the other side allowed Angel to drop from his shoulders, and instead cradled her against his chest, tucking one arm up under her legs and the other slipping to stroke her hair absently. He'd had many children, though never fortunate enough to have any truly his own - and was no stranger to giving comfort, "All right then, come now, we'll find your mother - just let me take care of one thing along the way..." And he stepped through the Gateway with her in his arms. A lot can happen, in six seconds.

The racing beast was not about to get the better of her. Her stance spread, to stay balanced and pivot. Shoulders squared back and ready. The tip of the blade dropped down as the rest rose carving an arch in the air in front of her. The movements of each muscle fluid, graceful as a dancer and long waited as a crescendo. Miranda only hoped she had timed it well to strike down what had been sent after her soul. The ethereal words rolled in her head like thunder threatening to split her skull with the last uttered breath. Sweat glistened on her skin rolling along each curve of muscle and bone.

His gait hastened as that arm snapped out - and silvery cages began snapping up from the ground around each of them; their silver again matching the chrome of both the Hounds and his eyes, "My lady-" calling out tentatively to her, "Are you well and unharmed?" His voice was filled with concern, though not with familiarity; he should have, would have recognized her perhaps, had they met differently right now, with less going on. He had applied to Instruct at the Academy, though had not offered any kind of resume; or had at least been too vague to be considered, though one had been submitted not once, but several times.

Angel was clutched even more firmly to his breast as he spoke, a faint look of distaste crossing his features - he'd not meant to bring the child into such a dangerous situation, and would have sent her somewhere more welcoming, had he thought leaving her alone after finding her alone and distraught would have been in any sense better. Not knowing what had lay ahead in the Glen - and cursing, as all do, the failings of hindsight. Murmuring, quietly, adding a gentle swaying rock to his hold on Angel, "Easy now, I'll have you home soon."

Her chest heaved with the effort it took to split the beast, but even the drops of its blood proved harmful. Tiny though they may be it felt like fire. The skin underneath shrivelling and cracking open to let crimson fleck and trail on such a pale pallet. Keeping a steady hand on the sword, Miranda tried to stay focused on what else could come their way. "I'll be fine, just please get my daughter out of here." With the fast glance she had thought it was Kaius, but silver eyes found the details to prove otherwise. "Who are you?" Panic starting to creep in at having no clue that held her Angel so dearly in the middle of this fray. Let alone the fact that someone had just threatened to kill them both in what she could only assume would be horrid manners. The once flickering tall grass was matted down with the pace of battle, fireflies and other life long gone until peace would return to their space.

"Atticus....Kiergaard....D'Arcstorm..." the shrouded figures sibilant, mocking voice again filled the air though through no apparent actual speech, "Using....the Arcfire on mere Hounds..." and the figure began a slow, eerie, chuckle, "you're all but used up..." And then....

Angel wished.

And Atticus eyes flashed back to solid balls of chrome and flared with blue light. A door frame of chrome framework appeared outlining the shrouded figure - and a door appeared on its hinges, slamming shut with a loud Crack! Before folding in upon itself width wise, then height, and repeating until there was nothing left to be seen. Atticus's eyes losing their surge and returning to azure blue fast enough that his world spun and he was forced to blink back nausea and give his head a shake, staggering a step forward but clutching Angel tight despite the wiggling before righting himself and cautiously letting her slip to the ground, unsure of what just happened.

Except to know that something activated the Myriad of Artifice. Without him willing it.

"Angel." Miranda could feel her skin crackle with what appeared to be effortless movement to pick her daughter up from the ground one armed. Using her hip and arm to support the darling while the black sword stayed ready, a promise that all who dared come after them would know what pain it could bring. "Atticus..." She mused over the name while silver eyes slowly turned back to mint, darting about the open space still on watch. "I do remember that name. Lead the way. Angel be a big girl and stay between us and close." A shiver running up the back of her spine at what had just come so close to claiming her life.

"Mommy, I'm sorry!" Angel sobbed into Mirand's collarbones. The simple act of being held made the world feel safer. Better. Nodding as she set back on her feet, Angel stayed no more than 6 inches from either of them. Eyes darting all around being the big brave girl mommy had asked her to be.

He cursed himself with an embarrassed half angry blush as he lead into the Gate - and his mind coiled in on itself, forcing what he considered superficial thoughts aside....beauty was....distraction. So stop looking at her....Idiot....and he managed to only turn twice to make sure she made it to the gate - even though his hand rested on Angel's forehead the entire gait. As soon as they made it through the portal, Angel held her hands up softly crying. Soaking in the warmth of her mother, she slowly started to settle. Her young mind was still unsure of all that had just happened. All she knew was that someone had tried to kill her mommy and wanted to take her away. Being lulled by the rocking motion in her mother's arms she shyly looked back at the man who had helped her. Crimson mixed with golden curls as her purple eyes peeked out between the strands. He was a stranger and she wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, but he had helped them and saved mommy, but he was still a stranger! If this was hard for her it had to be so much harder as an adult. Spinning quickly on her heels, Miranda scooped up Angel rocking her softly on her chest. Her calloused fingers gently combing through Angel's tangled curls, but those sharp mint green eyes stayed on Atticus. What exactly had occurred in the field was still a whirlwind of thoughts, but all she did know for sure was that for the time being they were safe.

"It was never my intention to," slight shake of his head. Think it through, man.... "I don't belong within this," No. Start again! "It wasn't my intention to occupy your Coven grounds this evening, and even if I'm....glad that it came to good, I'm sorry to see that it had to..." trailing off, hearing Angel speak up.

His face hardened, if only slightly; it was either that or break. He had tried obscuring this Nexus as long as possible, but Dy Hauc was just...too powerful" No. Too crafty. "...Some bad men are just....bad. But the world is full of good people, too, that are making sure the bad men can't hurt you, I promise." Speaking of crafty....was it just to placate the child or..." His eyes fixed on Miranda's again, from Angel, simply and softly, "....speaking the whole truth only brings experience to innocence, and time does that enough on its own."

Kissing away Angel's tears, Atticus' answer was one she would have given considering the circumstances. Miranda didn't flinch or worry over him being closer to them. She might be older, but her skills had yet to dull. Keeping her heart beat steady and calm, she smiled. "There now, we are safe and Sir Atticus might be new to our lives, but that does not mean a stranger deserves unkindness." Nudging the end of Angel's nose softly she waited while Angel yawned.

Angel yawned softly and began to settle, shifting awkwardly in her mommy's arms to try and stay away. Purple eyes turned the richest of blues as she came out of hiding. "Thank you for helping us and giving me an answer." Her head soon drifting for Miranda's shoulder it wouldn't be long before she was down for the count.

As she continued to hum, Miranda drifted off gracefully into the adjacent room to put Angel to bed.

Upon returning, she closed the door gently behind her. Without Angel taking up most of her frame the wounds were much easier to see. There were round circles where the acidic blood at eaten now weeping small amounts of blood. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting," standing between Atticus and the door.

His eyes widened upon seeing the wounds; blood from beasts of Oblivion..." "My ...no no no no...Your wounds, we need to tend to them. Now." Appropriate behaviour was momentarily forgotten; the wounds were deadly....but, if he had to heal them, now would be easiest. Living things were....harder for him to touch, to effect. One of the reasons he was at times distant from people. To be so used to everything about you being malleable, then....he knew how he would feel if someone marred one of his creations, in its final stage. His own version of spirituality was somewhat alien to conventional; everything, he thought, must have a maker, much as he was to his creations.

And hers would be rather upset, he would think, if Atticus short-sightedness allowed her to be so marred. He shook his head immediately after speaking the pseudo demand to her. Not the meeting he had imagined. Funny, back to imagination. Not everything you build looks like you imagined it, once it's completed.

She chuckled, and moved away from the door so that he could reach her. Glancing at the wounds it wasn't that they didn't hurt, but rather there were more pressing things on her mind. With Angel now safe and content, it was starting to sink in. "That might be a good idea. How do we fix this?" Miranda was only capable of so much considering her teachers. Keeping calm and collected, she knew things would be handled one way or another.

His eyes did in fact speak of muted awe, and he couldn't help that. To find a person, a living person, who he could touch not with his hands, but in a different, arcane way, known and felt only by the Awakened - magic users among those specifically. Save for a select few cases, one had to be alive to be Awakened - and again, living, breathing things...his magic had to strain so much to touch them, often so much more exhausting than....His hands settled lightly against her, not probing the offending wounds, merely covering them, but pressing hard enough that his bare palm was almost flush against it - the acids on the surface rendered inert in doing their damage to her.

Heal...?

No, "Repair..." he murmured softly, "to the surface, now, "his eyes closing, lighted blue despite being covered, as Bluefires energy rose again, "....give back, to the one who crafted you, the hands that loved..."a warm energy built in his hands, and crept into the wound, seeming to pull along her veins, searching out those other veins Bluefire had allowed him to see, affecting not healing, but repairing -even though she was alive! The wonder! But the metals were already mixed, a part of her, and so...slowly, ever so slowly...his eyes would open momentarily, glancing to hers, and in lingering too long would look away again to his work, feeling knitting beneath his fingers, and palms.

Just in those minute places though, where the healing took place, it seemed ....too smooth, even for perfect skin, too much without blemish; the spots felt and looked - reacted - like skin, but so too shared the qualities of metal, arrayed in just perceptible whorls of silvers and gold laced over fresh, pink skin. "No, I'm sorry," eyes widening in dismay, "I....didn't do it, couldn't do it right." His limitations brought him shame. He was a High Mage, though from his demeanour one might not be able to tell.

Just for a moment, maybe, he could play off the heat rising to his face as something conducted from her into him, and maybe it was, at that. And now his hands hesitated again, and he found himself as reluctant to pull them back as he had been to originally offer them, but he did pull back again, though not far....

"One doesn't let a masterpiece go crashing to the floor", an inner voice chided him, providing an excuse that might dull the heat rising to his face. "I..." he began, stammering, if only slightly, "....apologies," muttering lowly, "As I said it's not....I'm not used to doing that..." and he gave his head half a shake, muttering now to himself, though audible, "....have to redefine 'distraction'..."His own blue eyes, flecked with chrome studied hers, "I hope you don't have the same problem with everyone who seeks lodging, here..." the metallic whorls and webs that swept across her eyes held him, trapped him, in their web. He meant to look away, he did. He simply....couldn't. Maybe in a moment....

Deep, slow and steady breaths, ragged at first, but determined none the less. Miranda, with Atticus', help stood her ground once more. If she weren't so focused on getting herself sorted out she might have chuckled at the new colours on his face or the stammering and whispers he might think she couldn't hear. "No need for apologies. Better to feel off balance then to have your flesh eaten slowly. As I said earlier I am grateful for your help." Shifting to hold on to the back of a near by chair, the silver in her eyes melted back to mint. She began to feel her body was more responsive, again. "This isn't normal, but that doesn't mean you are any less welcome." She kept his gaze and managed a smile as the world was coming back into place. "Which house would you like to stay in?"

Sir, an honorific that he hadn't earned, certainly. On Alluvius, it was reserved for Imperial Knights to High Lords, but not even High Mages were called that, it....though he had cause to be, on occasion, he was not an arrogant man, and it humbled him. He dropped to one knee, gazing up at her, "....if this house, you would let me call home, then....I pledge my fealty, upon the Myriae Virtues, my Salvation, and hope of Rebirth, to," he paused, about to say you. It had almost slipped out, instead saying "....to your House." The last, a genuine slip. He'd meant Mage House. He did.