Characters in this post
View character profile for: Erin Aisling Thorne
View character profile for: Jemma Evilian
View character profile for: Callum Thorne
View character profile for: Elenwen Grove
View character profile for: Luke MacTiernan
View character profile for: Emlen Grove
View character profile for: Branwen Thorne
View character profile for: Kaylara Eldsteen
View character profile for: Ragnar Lothbrook
View character profile for: Thomas Mcallister
View character profile for: Aki
View character profile for: Cerulea Mistral Galva
View character profile for: Mishka Doshkov
View character profile for: Myrine
View character profile for: Ivona Kalinova
View character profile for: Nina Maldova
View character profile for: Conall Blye
View character profile for: Fionn Mac Morrigu
Discussions - 7 Dec 2015, Various Locations
"I've always envied him that. Well, settle in. It'll be a couple of hours til we're home."
By now after maybe two hours the only other person awake was Erin, who'd spent most of the flight humming a slow, quiet melody to herself. Luke glanced at the druidess now, taking note of the distant look in her eyes. "Erin?" he asked softly.
She stopped humming and turned to him. "Yes?"
"How do you know for certain you'll find Cal again?"
She looked back out the window, her voice low; "I don't."
"Well, tell him it's rather rude to enter a home uninvited. I'm sure he's aware of that. If he wants to remain, or have you remain, he needs to seek permission." Her voice was calm and level, but held a trace of iron.
Well. Doesn't that tell us what she knows.
Conall tried his best to ignore the comment. "Ma'am, I don't think you quite understand. As it is now, where I go, Set goes. If I'm invited, Set's invited. Ordinarily this wouldn't be the case and Set would be able to leave but due to certain things he's done in recent years he's stuck with me." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a seal in his arm of hieroglyphs.
The grey haired woman raised her brows. "So... like a therian?" she asked with an Eastern European accent the magician couldn't quite place.
Conall shrugged. "Possibly."
~Somewhere in Czech~
The dark figures crept slowly out of the treeline. Most of the Hunters were still in the pavilion to avoid the afternoon sun, few were actually out in the heat. Those that were quickly dropped to the darts aimed at their necks. One managed a strangled cry but it wouldn't be heard over the talking in the pavilion.
Dressed in lose mottled green clothing the figures advanced to where the remains of the Orochi had been moved to towards the bottom of the valley. Nearby laid the corpse of a silverhaired woman, Ivona Kalinova.
This was what they'd come for.
Two members of the Syndikat placed Ivona's body on a stretcher while the rest looked around to see if they'd been spotted. Most ran back to the treeline but a few pulled small objects out of their tunics and, lighting them, threw them at the white fabric of the pavilion tent.
Having been left mostly alone at the camp Emlen had gone to the library and begun reading pretty much any text he thought looked interesting and had found out a lot about various forms of magic he'd probably never be able to use but that were intriguing all the same. Branwen had joined him and was had been standing on the table staring at an old scroll about King Arthur when she looked up at Emlen suddenly. "I'm hungry."
~Somewhere in Maine~
"When will I meet her?"
Morgan shrugged. They were sitting in the living room of the small house in Maine they occupied and somehow Fionn had managed to sit mostly still for the past five minutes. "I honestly don't know. She's with the Hunters now as far as I'm aware but her exact location..." She shrugged again and continued with her knotwork. She was making a black macreme belt and was quite proud of the results so far.
"But I will eventually meet her?" Fionn asked, sitting forward. He seemed a little eager to Morgan to meet her. After all, who in their right minds would be eager to lose themselves and become a completely different person?
"You'll meet her if fate wills it Fionn. Now stop pestering me."
He sighed and got up, heading to another part of the house. Morgan assumed the basement - the boy had been practicing combat far more frequently than usual the past few months.