The professor sneers in distaste; "Well I wouldn't put it like that. Since due to the nature of the solute it has other properties. The addictiveness is lessened, as is the properties - including the increased activity in the dopamine and pleasure centres of the imbibers." he starts lecture to the group, as if they are students with the associated simplistic disdain. "The carrying of blood through the system has been retarded. It's an interesting study, to be combined with trying to ascertain the properties and laws of 'magic'" he rolls his eyes at the last word.
Upstairs
Bunny looks at the bed thoughtfully; "I know how to soften hard things! ♥ Bounce on them!" The towel slips from her torso, revealing her naked body that glistens in the dawns' light from a chink in the curtain. She slinks forward to the edge of the bed, a sinuous sensual motion that's completely sub-concious. Bunny then starts to bounce up and down on the bed; "Wheee! ♥"
Laverna raises her eyes to Danny; "How do I like it?" she pauses thinking; "Anything that'd give me a buzz. Your mortal beverages should prove interesting."
Danny manages to keep his thoughts to himself. Barely.
Although he catches glimmering glimpses of phrases that he can't, quite, restrain.
'Any way you can get it?' Is the only complete one that escapes.
"Some can be interesting. I think we'll save the good stuff for later, after we get the 'work' done." He nods towards the tented off meeting place down the way. Then he looks thoughtful.
"Let me see what Morien has in her cupboard. No reason we can't enjoy the work!" He grins and steps across the short dock ramp to the boat.
"Arr! Permission to come aboard Captain!" He calls cheerfully in his best pirate-y voice.
Tangris falls back on the bed, his eyes rolling up in his head. 'This girl might just be the least aware person I've ever met.'
Looking back up at her, he finally says point blank: "Bunny would you like to have sex with me?"
Kenneth mentally winces at the notion of the effective lawyer, Aye, I'll have tae ask, though I already ken the answer tae that, , and stays quiet, scratching in a notepad and nodding as the professor continues to speak, until Sal asks her question.
He raises an eyebrow at the notion of "magic" and the disdain, but the professor's assessment of the illness causes his neurons to fire and causes him, finally, to interrupt.
"Aye, this is the sort ay tale that will only help you. A few questions, professor, afore ye get back tae your tale. First, I'll need tae confirm the contact information for the lawyer and agent you're describing. Second, I'm looking tae clarify what you're saying about the wasting illness. Am I right in the understanding that it's resulting in human subjects growing weaker and less vital -- wasting away, as it were -- and nae longer properly oxygenating their blood -- while, at the same time, creating a resistance tae the special blood ye were giving them -- including the euphoric and addictive qualities? And that, despite, no reduction in the potency ay the special blood?"
The man's learned that giving people vampire blood makes them intae something other than human.... Maybe a weaker sort ay vampire or a Renfield, and this is a good thing? Is that what's happened tae Molly? Ach, but I'd love tae show this man what magic can truly dae...
Morien pokes her head back out the doorway long enough to give Danny an amusedly skeptical look. "Sure. Don't touch any of the steering or navigation." Once she's got the water heating, she goes back to inspecting the Mote from stem to stern. It takes less time than one might expect - Morien could do it in her sleep, and probably has.
Someone with particularly sharp ears might notice that she's chanting in a singsong whisper while checking over the boat. It's a mnemonic device, but one with overtones of ritual.
Professor Ogilvy puts down his tea-cup and raises his hand, crooking the fingers in a authoritarian manner; "Not quite right about the second point. It is the hosts, the vampires, if you will that are becoming wasted. The vampires are not managing to process their blood. It means they have to 'feed' more voraciously and frequently." he sighs slightly, as an exasperated teacher. "Whilst at the same time, their blood and saliva has not the potency of addiction any more. Well not as much. I suppose had we found someone truly immune to it, then my research to increase the addictive qualities would have progressed faster."
"Hence why we were importing opiates, that and Ms. Finley had some other pharmaceutical channels to distribute through." he continues on, not being able to analyse other unscientific uses for it. "I suppose we could have done more research into the pleasure centres. But at the moment we are concentrating on using human blood as a medium and filter."
"The blood we extracted from the humans after filtering has not proven too efficient at retarding the vampires decay." he sighs; "Personally I saw more than half a dozen of them, turn into husks."
Upstairs
"Ooooh! ♥" she stops mid-bounce with a pleasing jiggle. Looking Tangris directly in the eyes with a hungry promise, her gaze then slips across the rest of him. "mmmmm" her full lips part letting out a throaty purr that reverberates deep within her chest. Bunny crawls exuding a sensual confidence across the sheets towards Tangris.
*Fade to Black*
Laverna nods to Danny as he walks up the gang-plank, she moves to lean against the wall. Happily enjoying the flow of the river.
Whilst under Morians' meticulous gaze the sea-worthy vessel appears perfectly maintained, s*#*# & span. It doesn't take long until there's the whistle of the kettle.
Danny salutes with great exaggeration. "Aye-Aye Cap'n!" He growls jauntily, but makes no move towards the steering mechanisms other than to look at them appreciatively.
He follows Morien around the small craft, watching her work and appreciating the lines and beauty of the craft, even while admitting he has NO idea how to sail a ship than any other city boy.
"Nice boat." He tells Morien sincerely.
"Or is this one of those that's big enough to be called a ship?"
"Oh! saved by the bell! Or whistle anyway. Do you have anything I can use to spice up Her Majesty's drink? I was thinking Brandy, but if you have a good spice rack I can make that work too." he asks, already nosing into the cupboards.
"She seems to be, nice. Which is to say 'cooperative, without any apparent intention of feeding us to the sharks. Tonight'. Have you two met before? I've seen her at shindigs, but I've never actually gotten to meet her before. I wasn't THAT high on the guest list." He smirks.
"Hopefully, the blood extracted from the human test subjects during the influence of the catalyst* is sufficient. We inject this back into the diseased subjects and monitor the progress. Currently we have only been able to slow down the disease, not reverse it." an annoyed frown crosses his face. "The disease is not widespread, but it seems to be growing through an unknown vector."
He clarifies; "*the catalyst being: an admixture of vampire blood, opiates and a couple of other pharmaceuticals." His manner very analytical as if dissecting a problem rather than drugging people with heroin and forcing a semi-vampiric change upon them.
Putting his hand to cover his mouth in an unusual expression of surpprise; "Oh and you wanted to know about my contact. Ms. Finley, I've only skype'd with her. A British born lawyer, based in the Netherlands, she acts as an intermediary in my opinion." With a fussy wave of his hand. "I can give you her e-mail and address where I sent all the hard-copy information. Of course, mostly I've been working with the weird creatures which she has sent over."
A very rumpled and ruffled Tangris, looking almost beatific with his wide grin and slightly stupid look, comes down the stairs. "I have been to the mountaintop, I have seen the promised land. And it is as AWESOME as promised, oh my friends."
He stops for a moment and stares at the scientist, still smiling. "Oh hey, Doc! Do I need to hit you again or are we friends now? Either way, nothing personal. I'm sure you're a swell dude and all."
Sal's face has hardened into an impassive mask as the doctor expanded the explanation of his work. She welcomes Tangris with a small sigh of relief.
"Good, you're awake. I need to go make arrangements for the doctor to stay here for a while, until we're certain he has no concussion. He obviously doesn't need a hospital, but head injuries can be tricky. It's best if he isn't alone for a day or two, until we're sure he is fine. Hang here for a minute, would you, Tangris?" She shoots the weregoat a nod and a grateful look before slipping away into the kitchen to seek out the doughty butler.
"Fothergill, we need a few rooms made ready for guests. One has been injured and needs to be kept from wandering off in case he gets feverish or delusional or something. The other three just need rest and safety and plenty of grub and drink. Is there a room we can lock so the good doctor doesn't go sleepwalking and get into trouble?"
Study
Professor Ogilvy looks up a confused look on his face as the were-goat enters the room, trying to figure where he knows him from. How the scientists pride trumps his concussion and he says nothing. "As I was saying, it's a fascinating project. Which could earn my many long overdue plaudits."
Kitchen
Fothergill looks up from where he is working upon a pair of shoes with boot polish. "Certainly ma'am. We have a private room which would be perfect. I belonged to the his Lordships Great-Grandmother, when she had a spell."
His hands moving in brisk, competent motions; "Do you have anything you wish polished?"
"Only my soul."
"Only my soul."
In a dead-pan manner, but with a compassionate undertone; "It just needs a bit of buffing. I have a cloth for that." the butler replies.
Danny makes merry with whatever Morien has in her pantry, and comes up with a (hopefully pleasant) surprise for the Lady waiting outside.
Kenneth smirks for a moment behind his pad and says, "Aye, Miss Finley has always brought a certain professionalism tae things, though I cannae think that the Law Society would approve ay her being tangled up in all ay this..."
He throws a glance over his shoulder at Tangris with a grimace, I'm interviewing, lad, go play with.... ach, By the Harp, lad, are *ye* trying tae make problems....? He stands to face the newly-arrive weregoat and says, "And here I thought ye were off tae get some sleep. I mean, we've barely had time tae chat and the tea's still warm. Apparently it dinnae take ye a very long time tae finish....."
He smirks, and finishes, "...resting."
I cannae think that will go o'er as well as he'd hoped, what with pack loyalties and wolf mating habits an the like... I dae hope he understand that he's a prey animal, and Andrew is a predator...
Kenneth shakes his head and points to the kitchen where Sal's retreating and says, "Aye, we'll need ye tae keep an eye on our guest, though nae 'til we're done with our wee chat."
He then turns back to the man with a slightly apologetic look and says, "Aye, I did misunderstand. Our information led us tae believe that ye were experimenting on humankind for the sake of humankind.... Are ye saying that, instead, ye've been using humans as guinea pigs in an attempt tae cure the vampires?" Realizing the near-incredulous tone, he quickly adds, "....so that ye can then use their secrets tae help humanity ay course."
Sal snorts at Fothergill's offer. "I might need to borrow it, then, or maybe just find a priest like a good Catholic. I've been slacking on that. Whatever, let's get Granny's room all set up for the good doctor so he doesn't go wandering and hurt himself. We want him to be comfortable enough, I suppose," she adds a bit reluctantly, "I guess he can have books if he wants. But he shouldn't be alone except when he's secure in his room. We'll make sure he gets where he needs to be after a couple of days."
Though I don't know why I'm being the least bit nice to this monster. Eh, maybe he's not a monster. Maybe he's just a Class A jerk.
She finishes instructing the staff on Dr. Ogilvy's needs, then quietly returns to the doorway of the interview room, leaning against the door-frame until Kenneth is finished with his interrogation. She gives Tangris a nod when she returns, in case he wants to take a break for some sustenance -- which he might very well need.
Ogilvy grows slightly indignant, puffing up his pigeon chest. "It's for Science! For my Nobel prize and for the advancement of Knowledge." he says proudly speaking in capitals.
"My experiments will categorise magical properties. See if they are transferable and what axioms they follow. Also it'll allow us to heal these vampires to their former power, cure haemophilia, maybe even other blood disorders." his eyes unfocus as he continues his diatribe. "Of course, we didn't just need a wide sampling of human testers - but a test group of infected vampires. Which Ms. Finley supplied, pity none of them lasted too long. However there was at least a continual flow of new ones. That should ensure a decent base group."
The professors shoulders sag and he sits down in the chair a smug look upon his face whilst his eyes blink slowly.
Sal watches and listens in stony immobility until the Nobel candidate runs down to silence.
Please, God, can I get a pass on 'Thou shalt not kill', just this once? Surely it can't be a sin for this guy.
"What about the three people in the cage. What were you doing with or to the humans?" Sal's voice is soft in what might be mistaken for gentleness or mildness. "Are they haemophiliacs that you were trying to cure? Oh, I know! They're invulnerable to the vampires' venom, like you said?"
There's no better way to question this guy than by being wrong. Dude can't let inaccuracy slip. Santa Maria, if it's a sin to kill an evil man, then give me the strength to hold back.
Ogilvy looks darkly; "A necessary precaution or whatever. The pair of supervisory vampires" he rolls his eyes at the futility of having to put up with them; "they needed 'snacks'. I did inform then that they really shouldn't kill any locals. Although they brought that Dutch chap with them and hardly fed on him at all." He shrugs, glad that the people are all right, or at least no further trouble.
"Wonder what happened to the supervisors, well they were flighty."
Everything goes red for a moment, then Sal finds that she's taken a step towards Ogilvy, hands clawed and ready to wrap around the callous man's throat. She blinks to clear her blurred vision and hot lines of rage streak down her cheeks. With an effort, she holds herself immobile.
Stop. Kenneth or Tangris may have more to ask. You'll wreck it all if you go after this guy now, the sensible part of her says coldly inside her head.
Shaking with fury, she turns stiffly and stumbles from the room, wandering blindly away from the interrogation.
This is Trip's house. He won't appreciate holes in the walls. Hang on. Keep it together. The pressure of unventable rage is almost too much to bear. She manages to get outside and leans against the cool, shaded brick, pulling a string of beads from around her wrist with shaking hands. Gritting her teeth, tears streaming helplessly down her face, she forces herself to at least think the prayers, signing the cross to begin, seeking some manner of peace in the ritual.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty...
Having worked his 'magic' on the coffee that Morien brewed, Danny puts together a small tray and carries it 'topside'. He approaches Laverna and presents the tray with a smile.
"Here you are my Lady, I wasn't sure how you take your coffee, or if you've had it before. Take a taste and we can add sugar and cream if you'd like. I like to keep it only mildly sweet myself. Goes better with the biscuits and treats that way." Danny says with a grin.
He looks down the river as she takes a dainty sip, even holding out her pinky finger.
"Anything happened down the way?" He asks as she sips.
"So, Sugar? Milk? Everyone has their preferences."
Outside the Manor House
Sal absorbed in ritual, doesn't notice a figure approach. A frizzy mass of dark brown hair with chestnut highlights in the morning light, however lines of white wisdom run through it. A matronly figure, she doesn't seem chubby so much as heavy; with a smaller than average height. An English complexion that once held a spray of freckles has been ruddied by the elements and the Yorkshire Moors.
She holds out a small hankie; "Are you OK dearie?" Her floral dress and knitted shawl keep out the worst of the morning chill with a cacophony of colour.
At the man's cavalier attitudes about "test subjects" and "snacks", Kenneth feels the fire of his anger rising and being echoed and amplified by the sliver of the Flame of Kildare within him. I'm only tae use my magic tae kill monsters... and yet, despite his humanity, this one seems tae qualify e'en more than the Ogres and Trolls that eat people... How I wish I could just burn the information right out ay his brain...
He turns away from the man for a moment to compose himself and sees Sal's reaction, and then quickly turns away from her. Ach, lass, I dinnae need someone else's anger tae fuel mine...
He takes a calming breath, seeking out the warmth and wisdom within the Flame burning inside him, Lady, ye give me access tae your strength, now I've need ay it in a different way.... and a sliver ay your wisdom as well.... He takes a deep breath and the burning flame within him shifts to a more calming, nurturing warmth, as if his prayer was answered.
He reaffixes his smile as Sal leaves, turning back to the "good" doctor and making a dismissive waves, "Dinnae fret, I believe that the two supervisors hae already spilled their... information.... Though I would like tae learn more ay your supply chain of both infected vampires and humans.... and, while I'm thinking ay it, did the weakening of the vampires have any other effects -- were they able tae process regular food or handle sunlight, for instance?"
"Unh!" Sal replies cleverly, startled from her rosary and automatically reaching for the proffered hankie. Her hand stops before she touches it. "I'm fine, thanks," she says, making the obvious lie a social No Trespassing sign, hating how her voice quavers uncontrollably. Her free hand scrubs the dampness from her cheeks as she clears her throat and continues. "Trip... Lord Langdon... is in London right now. Fothergill is working around back, I think. I can take you around to see him, if you like." She manages to keep her voice steadier this time and kisses the cross in gratitude, hanging the beads around her neck.
Great, visitors. Last thing we need is strangers tromping through the house now, of all times.
She takes a deep, steadying breath and gives the newcomer her best attempt at a smile. It turns out much ghastlier than intended.
Tangris, his stupid grin gone and his mouth hanging open, is a little less subtle; he punches the man hard across the jaw.
"You kept PEOPLE as food for MONSTERS! PEOPLE, you SICK NUT!"
Professor Ogilvy's glances up just as Tangris' fist flies towards him. From his seated position it connects with his jaw lifting him up a foot from the cushion. With whip-lash speed his head bounces off the back of the chair, eyes glazed he slumps back into the chair.
Outside
It's quite hard to judge the ladies approximate age, at least in her 40's though there is a cast of sagacity and the shadow of a former stunning beauty.
"It's alright dearie, just sit down and take a deep breath." She says soothingly pretending not to notice Sals' impromptu make-up change
"Nowt as grand as Yorkshire air." She takes a deep breath. "... when they aren't manuring the fields!" with a jovial tone.
Patting Sals' hand reassuringly with her own warm one, her tone becomes placating and reassuring; "But spring comes around so quickly, a time of rebirth and change. With fresh starts and new beginnings." she adds reassuringly.
Outside
Sal jumps and trembles at the woman's unasked-for and unwanted touch, but doesn't pull away, though her free hand creeps to the cross dangling at her sternum
Is this a fae? Are there spring fae? Everything's an insult, Danny said. Better be polite.
"Yes ma'am," Sal replies carefully, trying to see the woman's eyes clearly, see if they were odd like the summer fey outside the gallery, "Spring always comes."
Followed by winter said the voice inside her head where everything dies but you. And the only escape from the pain is a mortal sin until it comes naturally. So you just hurt and hurt and hurt, more every year.
Sal swallows and tries to remain polite, talking over the traitorous voice only she can hear. "How can I help you?" She ventures a guess that won't give anything away if it's wrong. "Did the Three Sisters send you?" Though her rage has shifted to alarm, tears continue to roll down her face unheeded as the woman's words pick the scabs from the sore spots on her psyche.
Outside
The woman's hazel eyes are filled with a depth of compassion, not one of the Fey - she has a soul very clearly. "It's alright, luv. It's tough, but it'll get better." She attempts to put a comforting arm around Sal, a soothing maternal warmth emanates from her, like the Sunday fire on a winters afternoon. "It might not seem it now, but you've got to have faith."
"I've come here to help, been called." with her other hand she fumbles in a pocket and produces a white paper bag. "Rhubarb & Custard?" The bag contains bright pink and cream boiled sweets, with a peppering of crystallised sugar.
"Ever felt that life is just a test? Tricky and pushing you to your limits." With a little incline of her head; "We all feel that way sometimes."
Outside
Sal's brain detaches and floats several feet away, observing wryly, as a flood of calm washes through her.
Oh, I'm dreaming. I had a good meal and didn't puke my guts out. This lady came from out of nowhere... It makes sense now, because it makes no sense. It has to be a dream.
She pulls a sweet out of the bag and touches it to her tongue, checking for the sharp tang of drugs. But it's just sugar, and she pops it into her mouth, feeling the tightness of drying tears on her cheeks as she chews.
"Rhubarb? The loco Irish lady down the alley grew some stuff she called rhubarb. Looked like weeds to us, but boy did she get mad when we ran over it with our bikes. Tastes... OK, I guess."
She looks at the woman with a kind of loopy calmness. Called... called. That reminded her of a British movie she'd seen as a kid, before the TV broke. "Called? You're Mary Poppins! Right. I didn't call you, though. And Mary, you made all kinds of tests for those kids." She chews thoughtfully. "But that's a kid's story. Why would there be tests in real life? I mean, life is life. We deal. We fight our way through it. Then it's over and, if we've been good, we go to our reward." I hope. Mama deserved better than she got here. There damn well better be something good waiting.
Seeing the state of her cabinet, Danny manages not to tut-tut out loud. But he 'Oh's' and Ah's' over he collection of coffees.
"Nice selection." he says, tapping a bit of herb into a cup, and then adding a small dose of liquid from his flask.
"For medicinal purposes." he tells Morien with a straight face, recapping the flask and tucking back into his pocket.He adds coffee to the cup, and sets it on the tray
Forthergill walks into the room with a relaxed air of confidence about his person. "Do you require smelling salts?"
Outside
"Oh dearie, there's much more to life than that. Take a little joy where you can." She smiles warmly, encouragingly. "The dawn chorus, the smell of a fresh loaf, light cresting over the moors. Fish and chips on a Friday night from the chippie. Remember and cherish the good times, whilst learning from the bad."
"Anyway you can call me Aggie." the lady adds comfortingly.
Kenneth glares at Tangris, pleased to be able to let his temper off its leash, "Apparently, being tae quick connects tae every part ay your behaviour. That man was telling us all about what's going on here, so we can be sure tae stop the whole bloody thing rather than just a symptom...." Stop, lad, stop. He just did what we all wanted tae dae, and it willnae dae tae break up the band o'er something like this. At least he didnae kill him...
He takes a breath and sighs, "And I cannae tell ye how much I wanted tae dae that, but sadly, he's the sort that ye cannae beat sense intae, no matter how hard ye try, ye ken?"
He turns to Fothergill and nods, "Aye, thank ye, I believe we will."
He then turns his attention back to the weregoat, "Let me finish wringing whatever's left ay use in this bawbag's brain, haever gingin it may be....," he pauses, offering Tangris a snarl only barely veiled in a smile, "...afore we then hold him tae account for his role in all ay this..."
He sighs again and says, gently, "But, in the short term, I need ye tae nae be here when he wakes. I dinnae think he's likely tae keep sharing if ye're hoverin o'er him tae skelp him in the napper if ye dinnae care for what he tells me, ye ken?"
Outside
Sal slowly chews the candy and listens to the strange woman while the sun shines and birds sing. The notion that this is real occurs and, once there, won't leave. Leaden reality seeps back into her stomach.
Sure, there are good times. Then everyone dies. I need to tell these people things that I never wanted to tell anyone. Then they'll know me, know me like family. I've lost two families already. Don't really want a third.
"Aggie," Sal says softly, "I'm... I'm sorry I called you Mary Poppins. But you seemed to come out of nowhere, like she did. Shoulda known, though. You don't have an umbrella. Anyway, sorry I interrupted your morning walk with my pity party. Oh, right. I'm... Adriana. Pleased to meet you." She holds out a slightly sticky hand to the woman for a real shake. "Did you need a ride somewhere? And, uh... thanks."
She's grateful the calmness remains.
"Right, right. Sorry. I just don't have a lot of... you know, impulse control, my parents used to say. ADHD and goatness... Plus you know, I drink and did a few drugs to help me calm myself. It all kind of... you know, just happens some times. Jeez, just be glad it ain't a full moon, man." Tangris smiles a sheepish grin and moves away from the unconscious scientist.
The butler walks purposefully back into the room and checks upon the Scientist before turning to the others. "Ms Sal arranged for a room for the man afterwards. I could get the information you wish, if it pleases you?" he says mildly.
Satisfying himself that Ogilvy is all right he breaks open the bottle and places it under the unconscious mans' nose. He seems to splutter awake, though is very very confused.
Outside
"It's fine Duckie, I've been called worse in my time." Aggie replies in a warm tone, "Catharsis is a natural way of healing."
With a warm hand she takes Sals and gives it a soft shake, unused to such. "No lift, Bunny asked me over? She said there was someone that needed help?"
As Danny walks down the gang-plank with the steaming coffee cup, he sees that Laverna is sat on a wall. She's watching her hair and how the light reflects on it's cascading softness.
The water of the canal ripples softly, the waves gradually explanding. Then from the depths a crown of a head emerges, sparse stubble surmounting his pale dome. The whole head emerges, a man of later middle-age, soft lines across his pale face. His skin tinted blue, if the light catches it just right. Despite the deep sides of the river, he seems to rise out of it, like a balloon floating to the top.
He's wearing a soft brown jacket, with padded elbows, looking like a geography teacher. Inclining his head to the boat and the sidhe sat at the banks edge.
"Ah, Lycius. Pleased to meet you again. Much more civil than the fields of Almoor" Laverna says with a flowing voice, holding a note of warmth.
"Bunny...? OH! You must be the, uh, the pack's healer?" Their current situation returns to mind slowly. "Yes, good. We have three people here. They were, um... we rescued them last night. They were being held as vampire snacks. We thought, you know, maybe they should be checked out. Make sure they're... OK." Sal peers more closely at Aggie, gauging the woman's reaction to 'vampire' and trying to imagine her turning into a wolf. "Is that something you can help with? I don't think any of us were really hurt this time. Oh, besides the scientist. He's just been slugged kind of hard. I don't think he needs your attention, though."
Danny sets the tray down next to Laverna. He waves 'hi' to the newcomer. Too amazed at his method of arrival to make any, immediate, comments about it.
I'm sure he'll remedy that soon.
"So, nice to meet you,... Lycius? Shall I get another cup? Coffee?" He offers politely.
"Most kind of you sir." he bows with a fencers flourish. "Cinnamon? Chicory?" he sniffs the air, the faint aroma drifting barely recognisable on the rivers breeze.
Laverna smiles, "We are to play poker, how about it?"
Lycius' forehead bunches; "I know just the place, a small garden - infrequently used." he offers, still trying to figure what's going on.
"I hope Bunny hasn't caused you too much trouble." her words are soft and kindly, there's a definite sense of compassion for the youngster. As well as an acceptance for the young dancers foibles.
Kenneth shakes his head, "I appreciate the offer, Fothergill, but I think it best I return tae this wee chat -- though I may need tae call ye with follow-up questions once we've established everything."
He turns to face the scientist regaining consciousness, taking a breath and trying to draw upon the potion's power, "Apologies for that. It is a problem when dealing with musclebound thugs, they cannae comprehend, or e'en see the big picture, ye ken? I'll make sure he's disciplined for striking ye, and when we're done this chat, we'll take ye somewhere safe and away from him."
"I look that bad?" Sal murmurs as she takes the offered compact and uses the mirror and a dampened fingertip to repair the worst of the damage. "Thank God for waterproof mascara."
She snaps the compact closed and returns it. "I don't think doing the bare minimum decent thing counts as having a kind heart, but thanks for coming to see to them. And Bunny doesn't cause trouble. She fixes it, from what I can see. She may seem flighty, but she's all right, really. I'd take her on my side in a fight any day."
"But come on in and follow me. I'll take you to the three vic-... patients." Sal waits until Aggie is ready, then opens the front door.[/b]
The mansion's front door opens and Sal leads in a stout, middle-aged lady in a riotously flowered dress. They pass quietly through the house until they reach the first room housing a rescued refugees. Sal taps quietly and opens the door, peeking in. "Excuse me. This is Aggie. She's a healer; she's here to be certain you are not injured," Sal says quietly, waving in Aggie's direction. "Aggie, this is... well, I don't really know your names. Everything happened so fast. I'm sorry about that. I'm Sal."
By the river
Danny returns the newcomers bow with his own flourish. More dancer than fencer, although very similar. He straightens with a grin.
"Morien has the bare necessities aboard. But enough to make even English coffee palatable. I'll be right back." He turns and heads swiftly back aboard the boat, and back into the tiny cabin/galley.
"Hey Morien. We need another cup. A friend of the Lady has stopped by. Lycius, I think?" He says off handedly, searching a cupboard for a cup.
When Danny returns, Morien is scowling at the radio equipment over her own mug of the bitter black gold, as though she could make the electronics behave by will alone. At first she seems not to notice Danny's entrance, muttering something about antennas under her breath. She jumps a little when spoken to, and wordlessly points to the mugs hanging from a rack over the sink.
It takes a moment to re-orient herself into a social context, but mention of Lyceus does the trick. "Right," she replies, in the tone of someone who's just been reminded of where their keys are.
While the singer arranges another mug of coffee, in proper host fashion, Morien thinks to check her cellphone. There's a message waiting from Sal, to which she responds: [All in the black.]
She'll follow Danny out and lock up behind him.
Ogilvy looks upto Kenneth, slowly coming to his senses and realising something may be slightly wrong. He touches his jaw tentatively and winces. The cogs seem to grind behind his eyes as he realises that the situation may not be entirely in his control; however the second knock-out blow has scrambled his thoughts.
"You wanted to know about supply..." he slurs slightly; "...well that wasn't my department. The Dutch said they had some contacts, I can give you a couple of names..."
The professors' lip starts bleeding a bit more and he wipes it with his sleeve; "We were about to start distribution of the prototypes, mostly our research has been on small test groups - in house. But it was now that we were getting to Stage Delta of the trials. The testing of public sample groups. Samples were to go out to specific people as defined by the pair of supervisors, who would observe or get samples." he says with the remaining analytical part of his brain ticking over. "Though getting info from habitual drug-users is problematic."
"Whilst the infected vampires were couriered in, usually via. Whitby although sometimes directly here. Ms Finley arranged it, very efficiently." There's a touch of fearful, respect in in eyes, with reference to her.
"As for side-effects either of my serum on the 'vampires', there was no beneficial effects. No processing of food or tolerance of sunlight or even the 'bones of a saint'." he rolls his eyes then winces, putting his head in his hands and mubbling; "Not that we are much closer to working out why the creatures are losing their vitality or how to save them."
Bunny burst down stairs, looks about her face lighting up as she sees Aggie standing in the doorway. The curvaceous lady, clad only in a silk shirt that flows and clings to her body whilst barely covering her 'modesty'. she lets out a piercing squee of joy and rushes forward.
Jumping into to older ladies arms and momentum spinning them both around, much as Bunny might do to a pole. She exuberantly hugs the matronly woman, legs spinning everywhere.
Lyceus (or Lycius) is stood next to Laverna, his stance cautious - like a gun-slinger entering a saloon. "Shall we walk to the garden?" he offers after thanking the pair for the proffered mug of joe. The walk is short and just over a bridge and through a couple of alleyways, the group arrive in a small beer garden. Empty with the slight spring nip in the air.
The aroma of fresh flowers is slightly tinged by a hint of smoke, since any patrons have to congregate here for a cigarette - being outlawed inside. However the view is stunning and the flowers are budding with new life.
Laverna touches a rose, it blooms into life and she strips the head from the stem with a neck cracking snap. Plucking a petal it turns into a playing card - the 7♦. "You said you wanted to play?" she purrs, with predatory grace.
Danny shakes his head with a grin.
"You ever play cards? With a Fae I mean?" He asks Lycius as he pulls out a chair for the Lady.
"It's kind of like getting your hienie handed to you by a school girl. Only with less bruises. Fun and educational. Embarrassing, but fun and educational."
"Not with the sidhe, the High Fae, man of Summer." he says cautiously; a thin smile, a fencers smile. Awaits to see where the others sit, knowing positioning is important.
The Lady is seated and sips at her coffee, the petal-cards flutter in her hand skilfully - though not magically. "Unless you wish to deal and with your own deck?" she offers.
Sal nearly smiles. Once the whirling dancer slows down, Sal reaches out to take her arm gently. "Bunny, take Aggie to the people we saved, please? Get her whatever she needs, or ask Fothergill for it." She gives Aggie and Bunny a nod and trots off.
Avoiding the vicinity of the maddening scientist, Sal slips down the stairs to the cellar. The duffle bag is still on the floor where she dumped it. Satisfied that matters upstairs are under control, she picks up the duffle by its webbed strap and sets it on a nearby work table. Unfastening the latch, she draws items one-by-one out of the jumble, sorting them into one pile of explosive gear and one pile of scavenged items from the lab and its safe. The salvaged cash goes into a third pile. Once the bag is empty, she repacks the demolitions supplies and sets the bag gently on the ground under the table.
The files and ledgers are sorted into piles that seem to go together first. I doubt I'll understand anything about this junk. First things first. She takes a deep breath and picks up the bundles of cash, hefting them with a soft whistle, then starts to count.