Robspierre replied softly, 'the question is to know where is the enemy.'
'He is out there, and I have hunted him,' said Danton.
'He is within, and I am watching him,' said Robespierre.
- Victor Hugo, Ninty-three


He was frustrated and infuriated. The day had proved unproductive and he was proving ineffective. He felt as scattered as his thoughts. And each day the struggle grew more taxing. There was a melancholy that seemed to wash everything in a sullen gray. Accents of sharp red came as short staccato barks, speaking only to a simmering rage that laid underneath. And wispy threads continued to unfurl and drift from the tapestry of his memories.

Even when he was able to focus, something intangible,... an image, a melody...seemed to jerk his attention away. Things didn't make sense. What he was told, what he saw, what he knew, what he felt...none of it fit together. The matter of the Captain didn't sit well with him. The pieces didn't fit, even as they seemed to snap together neatly. And the tapestry continued to fray and unravel.

He tore the tie off his neck, feeling like it was strangling him as he marched into the infamous inn. He headed straight for the bar, threw the tie away and poured himself a drink. Only then did Lucien notice the few early patrons gathered around the bar. The Judge had the Pirate backed against the wall and from the looks of things, Issy was not happy with Kidd in the least. Nevertheless, the confrontation did not come to blows and the Judge spared the pirate captain and tension eased. Briefly.

She spotted the barrister and drew him aside, away from the other gathered denizens. In hushed and private tones, she spoke her concerns, revealed some new facts...and a secret the barrister had held. Then she asked...Lucien, we want to check in on you. If that is okay with you.

It was later in the evening and he'd returned to the infamous inn. Lucien wanted to check on Kitty. The weight of the world seemed to be bearing on the Governor's shoulder. However their earlier conversation was interrupted by...music. A childhood melody that crept into his thoughts, and once more a small raven haired girl invaded his memories. But Kitty wasn't to be found.

Instead he saw the Captain, tending to the Empress who looked like she'd barely survived a gauntlet.
"Perhaps you can give her some comfort from her troubles, hmm, Barrister? She needs a godt friend."
"Don't we all, Captain?" He remarked.
"Some do. But not all," came the Norseman's reply as he retreated from the Inn.

Lucien sat at the bar, struggling to grasp at the fraying threads, to mend the unraveling threads of his mind and weave it back into some small semblance of order. A lone man lost in his fight with his scattered thoughts amid the bustling crowd of the inn.

"Are you alright?"

Just as he was beginning to drown the storm of his own mind, she'd reached out to him. She reached through the swirl of chaos storm and caught him. Caught him before he drown in the maelstrom.

"It will work out," she began to reassure him, before the slamming door drew her attention briefly.
"I hope so."
"You don't sound convinced," she gently chided the barrister, just as an odd spherical entity became attached to her finger. "But then again, my oracular powers have never been much."
"I am not doubting your insight. I'm questioning mine."

Alysia and Lucien spoke further on the matters in quiet tones. All while the Priestess worked to extract herself from the adhesive, amorphous sentient sphere that had gotten stuck on her. Once freed, she voiced her suggestion.

"Perhaps you should take up hunting."

"Hunting?"
"Hunting. You know, you decide what your prey will be, decide how you're going to find it, decide how you're going to kill it, then do so. It's barbaric, but very rewarding."
"Hunting." He'd repeated the word, letting it roll off his tongue.
A peculiar, avid sort of smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "It's better than being the hunted."

Hunting.

Their hushed conversation played over in the backdrop of his mind as he listened intently to the Priestess. Alysia's visit was unexpected, but welcome. The barrister pushed aside the stacks on his desk and leaned forward on his elbows, fingers steepled together. His brow remained etched in a sober furrow.

He saw the gutted out remains of his townhouse again in his mind's eye. He remembered Howe raging against the Seer. He remembered the Captain leading Howe away. He remembered the torn look on the Ancient's face when Howe offered her 'candy'.

He pictured the the gruesome image of a baby's severed and desecrated arm that was gifted to one of the Sisters. He remembered the smell of death and the tinny taste of blood in the mansion. He saw the fear flash in the constable's eyes when they argued.

"...I realized I had to stop just existing from day to day. Dealing with attacks as they occurred and living in fear of the next was wearing me down..."

He nodded deliberately, feeling the weight bearing down on his shoulders. Then he dropped his angry gaze to his desk. The flash of Hellfire garnered his attention and drew it back to Alysia.

"The question is, do you feel up to acting like prey a little longer?"

Once again, Lucien nodded. "Let's go hunting."