Chapter VII - Healing Pains

This is what you came here for. Adventure, intrigue, murder, mystery and action - plus a healthy dose of boring everyday stuff. One continuous story-line, broken up into smaller themes for easier consumption.
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

The subject of their private canoodling session was politely chuckled away "Welcome back, It's good to see you both again!" Aislinn greeted.

Ciaran nodded and smiled kindly at them. "It's good to see you back safely. How have things been? Mr. Biggs told us about some rumors that you had a run-in with some particularly persistent merchants who wanted to buy the dryad from you. We figured we should hear the story from you."
User avatar
Karl the Mad
 

Posts: 1260
Joined: Wed Jan 16, 2013 4:27 am
Location: Oregon

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by Karl the Mad »

"Yeah, that tracks with what I saw for myself," Marius sent back. "It sounds like we're assuming Magnus did that stuff to Leonard, and now Mantus is looking for proof? Brilliant, just brilliant, what's Aislinn gonna say if she finds out?"

Instead of replying out loud, Tristan's phone buzzed again: Aren't we sharp! Just play along for now, I've got a few of my own boys and girls in the crowd over there. Not too good at blending in though, poor dears. Only one of them is packing anything worse than a knife, and you've got his phone.

Look, I don't hold anything against you guys, okay? I'm just avoiding Magnus for now, he was RIGHT about me and he'll be TOTALLY INSUFFERABLE and I'd rather not put up with it until I've got something to show for being the coward you all thought I was.

And Vlastos, I know you're there. You can kindly fuck off. Then when you're done fucking off, you can come over for some blood and we'll talk BUSINESS! Like ADULTS! Adults still talk business these days, right?? No that's not a euphemism for whatever heroic BS you're up to, actual money-and-spreadsheets business.

Be there in 5. Introduce me to your lady friend? -PH

PS: ;3

"Charming," Marius said aloud, rolling his eyes.

In the greenhouse, Jenkins looked uneasy. "Look, there's a lotta folks out there with real sharp senses, yeah? Let's wrap this up; I'll try me best to get that crown, yeah? And I'll bring it straight back to you, I'm guessin'?"
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Vernon briefly looked away, chuckling as he did. "Ah, the usual subterfuge, I see... Well, there isn't much to add beyond what Mister Biggs has doubtless told you already - plant life is a commodity of obvious importance to an artificial biome such as Gliese 2B's station, and dryads are well-known for their ability to bootstrap and support lacking ecosystems. Yggdrasil trees areate the soil when their dryads manipulate their roots, and the tree's enhanced nature makes it out to serve as an effective nitrogen producer, which binds to already-present minerals and, well, increases fertility. Microgravity affects everything it supports, and even fully artificial Dyson spheres such as Paradise cannot entirely shield the life they support from cosmic radiation, and-"

Eirean smiled and leaned in slightly. "Dryads aren't native to space, we still haven't found alien ones, and Humanity likes to brag when it comes in contact with new friends. One thing leads to another, and you've got a Blueskin and a Pilus trying to out-sleaze one another while treating our very much teenaged and mentally alert daughter as if she hadn't even been there. She didn't take to it, and I didn't either. By the time we'd left, Alex knew exactly how much people like these men would charge for her, because we'd prepared her for it in advance."

Smirking, Tom canted his head. "So, 75% horrified, 25% insulted?"

Vernon tapped his cane against the ground by way of admission. "The scion of one of the most influential nature spirits to have ever graced North America's shores - and they valued her at eight hundred credits."

Weasel grinned around his stogie. "Right? If you're gonna insult a being o' power that's tied to two of America's Fae lynchpins, you should at least start assuming that Mister Spats here knows his conversion rates."

Vernon's smile looked both self-aware and self-satisfied. "I do indeed - and I wouldn't allow a single one of these Cyberpunk ne'er-do-wells to touch a single hair on Alastriona's head even if they offered to pay me in Christmas geese and mince pies. The only fungible currencies for dryads are fealty, friendship, empathy and dedication. All concepts that are sold for distressingly cheap outside of the solar system."

* * *

Three didn't verbally reply, settling with a tight-lipped smile at Tristan's device, instead.

"Yep," he told nobody in particular, "now I remember why I was always scared of picking up his order for our Friday-morning donut runs..."

Carrie seemed amused by this. "You had those? Damn, the last ones I got I remember swiping from Cortez' Hibachi-and-elbow-grease air fryer, a few days before things went to shit!" The name seemed to jog Aidan's memory, who grinned at Silva and looked back to Tristan to keep him included.

"Right - he said, I'm sure Preston's already worked through a rundown of the PMC douchers Carrie and I were forced to mop up after. There was only one decent guy in the mix - Vargas was his name, I think. Basically Marianna Jameson if she were pushing sixty, were Mexican American and had disappeared somewhere between Letter Agency triggermen and a gaggle of lazy Federales after I got discharged."

In the same moment, he'd also addressed Magnus. "Knowing Randolph and how close he was to Aislinn and Tom, he's already told her. I'll have to double-check and get him to contain this, before his fishing for allies left and right lands him in trouble. He's a judge, he couldn't be slippery if his life depended on it-"

He was about to continue, when something made him send a tiny snippet of his immediate field of view. In the back curve of the greenhouse, the betendriled dragon's appendages could be seen quivering as he spoke to Jenkins. Aidan superimposed one of his own groans of mild exasperation.

"Goddamnit. I'm not a psych and you're the one with regular check-ups," he sent to Marius, "but if he's willing to get all mumbly with Jenkins, it means it's serious."

* * *

Randolph had been about to nod positively, when something made him change the gesture's axis. "No, not me. I want it to get it assessed and returned before Wormsworth wakes up. I've... done my research, as displeasing as it was, and managed to coerce a private jeweller into assessing the crown's condition. They've assured me things could be done quickly."
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

AIslinn nodded and smiled warmly. "I'm sure Alastriona will find those currencies in abundance here," she added.

Ciaran smiled lightly and commented, "All the more reason it's better for her to be here on Earth, her actual home."

He crossed his arms thoughtfully and nodded approvingly. "By the sounds of it, it seemslike she's definitely developed a spine, in thanks to your teaching her. That's good to know. There was some speculation that she only has what you taught her and what Sophia shared with her, but I get the feeling she's likely to surprise us."
User avatar
Karl the Mad
 

Posts: 1260
Joined: Wed Jan 16, 2013 4:27 am
Location: Oregon

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by Karl the Mad »

Before Wormsworth wakes up? "Yer jeweler pal's gonna hafta be there with me then, if ya want it done that quick," he said, a flat note of finality in his voice. "Ain't no other way no how it'll get done otherwise, so whatever coercion ya pulled 'ad better be solid..."

-------------------

"Vargas?" Tristan repeated. "You mean Lucky Vargas, from that little diner down in the dumps?" He laughed incredulously. "Nah, no way, not him. He's just some washed-up Cuban grandpa, I'd swear he hasn't got a mean bone in his body!"

"You would have sworn the same thing about me once upon a time, Mallory," Marius reminded him. "Besides, this isn't some game, there's no One Vargas rule in Hope."

He glanced back at the greenhouse and winced. "It's not going well, I don't think... Mantus is in over his head and Jenkins seems to be wishing for a polite way to tell him as much..." he sent for Three's benefit.

--------------------

The three workmen at the lectern finished whatever they were doing, and ambled back to the van, one of them muttering into an earpiece. On closer inspection, none of them could be Hauser; they were each too burly to be the slim, ratty little spymaster.

Said spymaster was, in fact, at that very moment, lurking in Doherty's generous shadow, waiting for the show to start. "All clear," he muttered, reaching up to nudge the man's elbow. "Just g-got word from the g-guys..." As Three had surmised, a doctored resume and the right uniform got a man wherever he needed to be...
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Vernon seemed lightly amused. "People don't form in a vaccuum, my dear boy," he reminded Ciaran. "Eirean and I might have raised her, but she still is of Sophia's blood, and I have it on good authority that Sophia's particular strain tends to vary between mere self-confidence and more bullish tempers, depending on the individual. Owing to the way acorns tend to be conditioned, it seems unlikely that only the two of us could've influenced her growth."

Eirean nodded as she looked back at the greenhouse. "We only added onto what Sophia had already provided her with. We'd need Angel Time or the Architect to rewind the clock and somehow be there while Sophia whispers to Alex's particular acorn, to figure out what she imparted."

Subtly, the throng seemed to be massing closer to the greenhouse, and a few reverberating thumps were heard as Doherty tapped the mic a few times. With Baverley Walton having resigned, his new second-in-command had a familiar look of almost satyr-worthy impishness. Nybbas might still be one of Meris' advisors, but he'd also spent an entire divergent timeline with Wallace as Mister X, phasing in and out of the fifties' incarnation of Hope as a means to train the penniped anthro in the use of his powers. This had seemingly affected Wallace, as he no longer had a mere doormat to serve as a sounding board. You couldn't quite hold your ground, stick your fists on your hips and dramatically frown in front of the Heiress' protocol advisor, and both men knew it quite well...

As for Doherty himself, his silhouette had slightly changed, if not for his body habitus. His previously protruding belly was flatter, like a fatter take on a strongman's physique, and any immortal would've gotten the sense that the experience of being burdened with powers and being forced to tame them during wartime had changed his temper. He previously would've been the type to tromp off to some other assistant to ask about something of note - or to ask for coffee or a snack - but now merely stood at the lectern, waiting for the massing to finish converging towards him. He did spare a short smile towards Vernon, Eir, Tom, Aislinn and Weasel, and added a nod in Vlastos' direction, once their eyes would've met. Nybbas had made good on his promise of not regaining his past weight, but it was easy to tell that simply standing on his two feet, tail swishing behind him, wasn't quite as fun as hovering off the ground in a number of implausible poses. He'd toned down his outfit for the occasion, going for a modern three-piece in black and red tones, along with a contrasting blue necktie.

Seeing the group cluster together, Aidan opted to glance at Marius while giving Tristan a warm smile. "We'll just have to wait and see, I think," he noted. "We'll have more time to speculate once we're back to wine and cheese."

He did allow himself a brief look in Mantus' and Jenkins' direction, however, and was relieved to see them turn back while taking an appreciably long way around the group. That way, odds were Doherty wouldn't notice them.

* * *

"Mister Biggs referred me to Dennis Wyndham," replied the judge in hushed tones. "Even before I was freed, I'd heard about the dexterousness of goblin hands," he said, turning back. "The rodent arranged for the two of you to meet in London-Upon-Faerie, tomorrow; he serendipitously had an overseas client to meet for an estimate regarding some legitimate contract - the inlaying of some jewel of some import to our allied American Fae... He'll have prepared on his own, but he'll obviously need to go over the details with you."

That said, Mantus then gestured that he intended to take the long way around the back of the massing reporters, in the rear of the assembly, so that their having stepped aside wouldn't be seen on-camera.
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

Ciaran nodded, a bit sheepishly. "That's true," he replied with a smile. "We'll just have to wait and see."

As he saw Doherty approach the lectern, he sent a smile back but quietly wondered if the walrus had avoided looking at him for some reason. He dismissed the thought and watched as more people gathered for his speech.

Aislinn lightly smiled back, glad to see how the penniped had matured since his earlier days as mayor. She silently hoped that his penchant for bombastic speeches had evened out since the War, but she kept her critiquing opinions to herself for the time being. Given that the seats were being taken up, she supposed it was alright for them to stand near the Fae couple during the presentation.
User avatar
Karl the Mad
 

Posts: 1260
Joined: Wed Jan 16, 2013 4:27 am
Location: Oregon

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by Karl the Mad »

There was a bookish, hunched fellow hovering at Doherty's other side from Nybbas, dressed in a suit and tie. He had prematurely gray hair and dark eyes, with which he peered anxiously out over the crowd. The anxiety faded as he noted certain individuals, and by the time Preston made eye contact with Three and his friends, there was a tentative smile playing over his lips. He even winked at Three before looking back up to Doherty.

Marius nodded back, simply enough, and remained standing. Someone else could sit back and relax, he didn't feel like sitting just yet. In the background, Charles followed along after Mantus, using subtle tricks of movement and bearing to seem as if he belonged exactly where he was and could be safely overlooked.
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Wallace Doherty added a sedate cough away from the microphone, and took a breath to draw himself in. Previous to the incursions, he'd been the type to speak over camera flashes and clicks and to drown out the usual array of reporter-hewn dictaphones and their beeps, but now waited a few seconds longer. It was enough to push one of Archie's brows upwards and to give Vernon the brief need to look sideways, hands behind his back - to momentarily give the walrus an encouraging smile. The mayor didn't look like he needed it, but accepted it with good grace.

"I'd like to begin by thanking you all for coming today. Reconstruction is always costly on several levels, and our friends and foes alike have proven to be tireless. I'm sure you'll join me in asking the former for their patience," he said, adding a bit of a smirk, "and thanking the latter for their support. None of us would be here today if not for several amongst you. In my quality as a civil servant, I humbly - and most sincerely - thank you all."

He then gave a slightly broader grin to Nybbas and to the new panel of city councilmen and women that stood behind the Fae Lords. "I'd also like to thank City Hall for giving me the chance to pursue - and finish - the goals set in my election term. Allocer could've been used as a partisan springboard and to beset aggrieved citizens with the stress of an unwanted campaign, but I am relieved to see that my advisors have agreed to carry the remainder of my term forth. That way, if my weight-loss regimen and sensitivity training fail me, you'll all be able to allow someone more qualified to accede to my position."

A few bursts of polite laughter followed, which allowed the penniped another brief pause. "Oh, and I may have incidentally developed superpowers, and I'm sure you'll find they've delighted a number of local cartoonists for several decades - temporal paradoxes being what they are - but I do so swear not to use them for electoral purposes, barring the occasional assistance of a taxpayer or two in matters of life and death."

He mimed touching an earpiece. "What's that? Oh, I'm being told that saving locals shouldn't hinge on whether or not they've pitched in for this year's Public Works budget - bad optics, they say... Note to self: do not commit political suicide on local day of relief..."

More frank laughter followed, the walrus' usually boastful countenance uncharacteristically not following along. The joke was a new touch, apparently a new addition to the career politician's arsenal, when he'd usually been the type to go for bullish put-downs of his rivals. His shoulders were seen quivering a few times, but he quickly reined himself in with an intake of air.

"As much as I'd like to sit here before you and sell you my pitch as a changed man, none of you are here for my benefit. You're here for Hope herself - our fair city, both grizzled and gentle, boisterously beautiful and occasionally off-putting. She's taken one on the chin, she's fallen down; and through your relentless efforts, she's also picked herself back up.

My one regret is that there is one person here whom I wasn't able to thank personally. I've made my rounds in the last few weeks, done my homework - and I've either called many amongst you personally, or stopped at your place of work to deliver my thanks. Don't misunderstand; I wanted to thank her very much - but I was as tied-up as she was, in my own way. Me with my mutating genes, and Sophia?"

He sighed, the sound carrying a sincere quiver of emotion. "Sophia was tied-up with our very survival. Not as neighbours or friends, not as coworkers or acquaintances, and especially not as allied or opposed political or ideological constituents. She was tied up with our survival as a civilization. That great and wonderful construct that's been ours since the Vienna Accords, where even millennia-old schemers can find support and understanding, where mortals and mundanes can find equal worth in headlines teeming with superpowered folk - that is what we almost lost. Her sacrifice is another voice raised in the belief that never again shall we submit to the cruelty of ignorance. Never again shall we look reflections of our innermost natures in the eye without taking their measure. Never again will our darkest half feed that which could destroy us."

Another lightly quivering breath, tempered with a cough. "It's in this respect that I'd like to call for a minute of silence in Sophia's name, in recognition of our newfound allies, and in the memory of those we've all lost. To the Celestials and Infernals, and to our new Void Weaver friends - we owe you our lives. To those departed; we now know you are all closer than we'd imagined in all of Mankind's cultural development."

A half-skip, and a smile. "My particular thanks to you, Ciaran McConmara. The entire city feels your pain, and doubtlessly extends its condolences."

The penniped bowed his head, said minute of silence having apparently begun. Empaths in the crowd would've picked up Nereus' humble, quiet and yet fierce joy, Herbert's radiating approval, and the painful mixture of profound honor and deep melancholy at the heart of Lucian Rothchild. A few sniffles were heard, along with a few polite coughs. Not even the usual titters or sotto voce chuckles could be heard out of Horatio, who couldn't quite stifle his usual grin behind his tendrils but who still bowed his head and closed his eyes. Magnus Haraldson was as still as a statue, arms crossed behind his back and glacial eyes carefully half-lidded in order to dull their shine. He'd even stopped breathing altogether, his own mind instinctively filling with an old Viking death chant. If a dryad had ever earned entry to the halls of Valhalla, Sophia doubtlessly was one of them.

Twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty-five. Fifty.

The adjoining streets had been temporarily closed, but a cop was distantly heard protesting as someone else rattled off a series of excuses too quick and distant to be clearly made out, and a second white limo cruised to a stop right in front of Holden Hall. Wallace lifted his head but said nothing, only his slowly bulging eyes betraying how his temper had just flared. There was something to his expression that suggested that the newcomers hadn't just interrupted an electoral bit, but a genuine marker of solemnity. This wasn't the glare of a mayor pushed towards disgrace because of someone else's misconduct, but the sort of death stare you'd probably have seen on Eir or Vernon after breaking a previously intimate and heartfelt Oath. The mayor Wallace was felt incensed, the superhero he'd become wanted to bound over the crowd and dent the limo's roof in with a punch, and the civilian with an adequate sensibility felt equal parts embarrassed and insulted. If he'd had enough sense to look at either side of him, Doherty would've seen a good six or seven other pairs of eyes throwing daggers at the slowly-unfurling procession.

First came what looked to be a gaggle of mortal men and women, all in peak physical condition and all of them dressed in white. There wasn't a single one of them that wouldn't read to Carrie, Aidan or Charles as having been anything other than ex-combatants, and nine of them positioned themselves at the rear of the group, forming a sort of loose divider. After them followed a golden-brown-skinned elderly gentleman of Latino extraction, a few punched-in Mayan tattoos almost completely faded from his chin and an almost dainty nose stud carved out of bone poking out from the tip of his nose. Small silver hoops waited at his ears. He didn't so much make a show out of waiting for his companion to leave the limo, as he simply stood beside its door and made the act look as if it were filled with a strange sort of gravitas. Out climed a woman who seemed to be about the same age, a well-preserved woman who had the facial features and tightly-cinched bun to pass for someone's favourite abuela. Her eyes didn't fit, however - and felt too gray, cold and precise to be entirely human.

Using Dalarath's old tentacle-based "tutting" of sorts, Nereus carefully spelled out Hector Gutierrez and drug lord to Meris. He hesitated for a moment, and then signed the word dragon. Preston's men would've seen the convoy rolling in, but the cars had apparently managed to use a blind spot and had merged into a single unit only one block away - likely in order to arrive too quickly to be intercepted while still sticking to most enforced speed limits.

Using the Lexicon, Three broadcast to everyone he'd personally spoken to over the last few hours. "Stay calm. Now's not the time to remind me of your age or skills, I need all of us to be on the same page. Be ready, but don't look ready. This is still Doherty and the dryad's show unless our new friends give us a reason."

Unbidden, but using a sort of polite mental chime often used by Squids to respectfully butt in, Lucian reversed the flow of information. "These are Kukulcan and Tula, the living roots of the Quetzalcoatl strain of dragons. They are older than human civilization on North American soil, and likely were the first practitioners of blood magic - and of human sacrifice. Rather than defend their created culture upon the Conquistadors' arrival, they turned coat and gratefully plied Cortez and his men for every scrap of Western culture and ingenuity they could grasp. Legends say they drove Cortez to madness with a curse. Reliable intelligence, however, suggests they ply various narcotics trades in order to prolong their lives and bolster their arcane prowess-"

Something strange made Lucian pause, like someone else's headstrong mental imprint shouldering him away from his telepathic microphone - and Weasel's voice took the forefront. The anthro tried to look collected, but a fat vein looked about fit to burst along his neck, likely more the product of anger than mental effort.

"Nah, not a telepath; Rothchild just invited me in. This fucker here gets off on human suffering; literally and figuratively. He's stopped needing genocides or sacrifices before lightbulbs were fuckin' invented. Why bother, when you can dope people the globe over with ties in opium and then graduate t'other shit as time goes on? Either I joined in with him and peddled Red Snow, or I lost my grip on the local clientele. You can ask Sarvin if y'want, the Commission's the reason this city hasn't drowned in vamp blood before and why this shit's stayed on the trendy end of things, 'stead of being an epidemic."

Biggs' disgust was palpable. "Goat might've been a sociopath, he didn't even have it in him to act like he cared. Gutierrez? He does. He won't salt the earth or kickstart World War 4 or whatever, but he's 'bouta fill up the old crack dens and alleyways, if he's here. It ain't superhero material, I know, but it's fuckin' human interest - and I don't wanna pick up more shattered families than I have to. It's bad for the heart, lousy for the soul, and shit for business."

Surprisingly, Carrie was the one who picked up on the next logical thought. "So he's here for you," she sent to Weasel, "not for the rest of us."

The group would almost feel Weasel's own bile churning in their respective guts. "Yeah," bitterly replied the mafioso, "just my fuckin' luck..."

Doherty added a slightly pointed cough. "Good. Now that everyone's here," he said, his accusatory tone hard to miss, "we can move on to the sunny days ahead. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister...?"

Congenially, Gutierrez took Tula's arm and smiled, his human Veil only slightly glittering around the edges, like an expert green-screen effect only suddenly wrestling with an unplanned change in scenery.

"Gutierrez," the man said, in perfect English, smiling lightly. His voice was burnished and sun-drenched, his teeth just this side of crooked as he smiled. "The Anglo-Celtic and Eurasian supernatural contingent is so well-represented here, it seemed only fair that I come and pay my respects to those unsung Latino heroes - and to those worthy of titles familiar to me. I think a few people here could agree that Miss Sophia is now fit for our nature-guarding Madremontes, alongside the two storied Acalicas that now protect this city."

Vernon politely sidled towards the microphone. "You do us too much honor, Señor Gutierrez," he said, his tone less one of someone being mollified, and more of someone who wanted to move past obvious flattery. "Eirean and I only did as our charges require us to."

Hector's eyebrows shot up. "Humble, eh? That's appreciable," he said, nodding slightly. "But please - don't let me keep you. You've got a new Mother Mountain to unveil, and there isn't a single spot in this country that hasn't earned some release."

Vernon smiled - with teeth, and with frost that began to crawl up onto the microphone, picked up as tiny crackling sounds. "Muchisimas gracias."
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

The selkies and fauns watched as Doherty made his jokes and joined in on the polite laughter, glad to see how he managed to adapt to the new twist of resuming his term as mayor.

The shift in tone from one of good-natured banter to a somber one had them quieten and reflect on the friend they had lost. There was the reminder of what she had been fighting to uphold for all their sakes, her ultimate sacrifice so that the civilization that supported them would continue to do so.

As he was thanked, Ciaran bowed his head slightly in a polite gesture while discreetly wiping away the tears that were collecting in his eyes. A quiet sigh was exhaled to calm himself.

With the walrus' call for the moment of silence, each of them bowed their heads respectfully. The male selkie was heard stifling some sniffles, with his head buried in his hands. It was likely he was quietly saying his own round of words for his departed beloved. As the minute drew to a close, the mood abruptly changed with all the subtlety of glass shattering from a rock being thrown through a window.

Ciaran and his siblings looked up to see the approach of the white limo and its occupants, joining the mayor with their heated death glares. He balled his fists in the fabric of his pants, but did his best to relax at Aidan's request to be on the ready without being overly aggressive enough to set off a conflict.

Meris pursed her lips tightly at her husband's tutting, understanding that he had some experience with the drug lord. Lucian and Weasel's exposition only added to her visible concern. She did her best to relax while watching the couple make their entrance.

During all of this, the reason for them all gathering near the newly renovated greenhouse had abandoned the PR guy's attempts to keep her entertained until her cue. She didn't make an appearance from behind the curtain, but she silently stood near it and soaked in the myriad of emotions coming from so many people. Given that her entire life up until now had involved only a handful of people, the experience was somewhat overwhelming.

She listened to Doherty's display of gratitude and bowed her head in respect for her late sister's moment of silence. A bevy of wishes, regret, and heartfelt promises were made in that short amount of time. The sudden appearance of Kukulcan and Tula made her stomach knot, as she shared in the gathering's incensed anger and indignation.

The young nymph could sense the age and sophisticated veil the elderly dragons displayed, knowing that dragons of that pedigree and seniority weren't to be trifled with. As she listened to the exchange between Gutierrez and Vernon, she quietly steadied herself as befitted someone of her station. It wasn't quite time for her to appear, so she now resolved herself to be patient even while wanting to at least take a peek out of the thick, green drape.

She felt a slight surge in pride over her father's handling of the tense situation, albeit also finding herself adopting a similar demeanor. Regardless of who he was, Gutierrez was an uninvited guest, but a guest nonetheless. She hoped that the drug lord wouldn't cause any notable problems during the event.

Up until then, the tree spirit had mostly kept her presence concealed from everyone except for Haskill. Her natural curiosity had gotten the better of her, and he would be able to realize that she was only a few feet away from where Doherty was at his lectern.
Post Reply