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Jorvik: A Land of Snow & Ice

Game Master DSXMachina

A dark mystery in the ancient city of York.

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P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

"Visitor? Lovely. Fetch my smoking jacket, Jeeves, and I'll receive them in the throne room," Sal mumbles loopily in her best posh voice, then looks down at herself. "Oh, wait. This jacket is still smoking. Never mind."

She unfastens her seat belt and reaches across to the door handle with her good arm, still unwilling to use the painful left arm (though it feels better, she distinctly remembers the horribly squicky sensation of the bones moving back into proper alignment under the influence of Kenneth's magic and is reluctant to stress it). She grabs the door frame, levers herself from the car, and promptly topples to one knee.

"Whoopsie," she mutters, then hauls herself to her feet and slams the door shut. Only the fear that Morien would skin her for getting smudges on Frost's gleaming exterior prevents her from leaning against the car as she stands swaying and addresses the dignified butler. "Evening, Fothergill. Please tell me the visitor is Bunny's friend, Aggie? Because that would be great."

Evil GM

Forthergill moves forward to offer Sal the crook of his elbow to lean on with her good arm; "Seemingly not. It's Mr Arjen, he's entertaining himself with a couple of books."

The golden dog bounces out of the vehicle, she shimmers and shakes transforming back into her human form. The butler crooks an eyebrow to match his neck but says nothing - seemingly having seen stranger sights. Bunny pats herself down; "Like, I could give Aggie a call, but I've not got a phone on me...."

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

Sal pulls a device from the remnants of her clothing. It hangs limply from her fingers, dripping. "No help here, sorry. I'm not sure even a bag of rice will fix this poor thing. You'll have to use the land line, inside. If she'd come help everyone with these burns, well, that'd be great."

Sal shakes her head briefly at Fothergill's offered arm. "Thanks, I'm going to go change. I think others may need to do the same. And Danny's escorting a rather important guest. If you could make them feel at home...?" she says quietly to the dignified man, then turns to her friends, conscious of her role as hostess, however temporary.

"I'm going to get cleaned up. Be down in a while. Please make yourselves at home. We, uh, should probably chat, too." She waves vaguely toward the house, then turns to limp inside to get cleaned up and changed -- carefully.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Danny slides, slowly, out of the back seat.

"Yeah, she might need a shirt to go with those cut-offs my good man!" He grins.

Danny tilts his head towards the car behind him, trying not to wince at the pain in his neck when he does so. (Seeing Sal up and about with those burns, he isn't about to complain about feeling like a tennis ball after a match.)

Danny silently mouths 'FAE' to Fothergill. And is gratified to see the flash of panic in the man's eyes, although his expression never wavers. Danny turns and holds out his hand to assist Laverna from the car.

"My Lady. This fine gentleman is Fothergill. I sincerely apologize, but I cannot in good conscience escort you out looking like this. With your permission I will make myself presentable? Fothergill will see to your comfort. I promise it'll be worth the wait!"

The fact that Danny's entire demeanor to Laverna was polite, to the point of being downright suck-uppish, with no flippancy whatsoever, is the strongest testament to how much Danny was truly out of it right then.
Both Fothergill and Laverna raised an eyebrow.

Danny looked between the two, and sighed.

"Yeah,... I'll be right back,..."

Gearhead. Stress: P: ◘ ◘ ◘ M: ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ ; Consequences: None ; FP: 2/3

Morien was starting 'round the car to Sal when she waved away help, and remains paused there. She, too, is part of the Look at Danny, although unseen behind his back. The selkie shakes her head as he retreats inside.

Joining Laverna and the butler before the former has a chance to feel that her host(s) have entirely handed her off to the help, Morien notes, "I noticed one of those classic all-copper Turkish coffee sets last time I was here, and I bet that's not just for display." At Fothergills' nod, she asks of the Fae, "Join me for a cuppa? There's nothing quite like it."

Male Warrior-Bard of Old; Herald of Brigid Stress: P: XOOO M:XXXO S:OOO; Fate Points: 2; BRUISED RIBS (moderate)

Kenneth pulls in behind and kills the bike's engine just in time to hear the offer of food, "Aye, it cannae hurt tae nourish the body...especially given the punishment we've taken. Still, I fear we need tae hold off the snack for a wee bit, as I've a reunion tae supervise... assuming our upstairs guest hasnae left. A'course, 'tis the sort ay thing that could likely happen whilst Sal's cleaning up."

With that, he turns to help his sister off the Commando, "Sorry 'bout the ride, Molly, but it seems Morien was in a wee bit ay a hurry."

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

Sal's eyes sting from the pain of scorched clothing peeling from scorched skin. Even alone in the sanctuary of her room, she forces back the tears, unwilling not so much to show weakness as to be weak. Her left hand is usable, barely, though the elbow is swollen, blue, and painful. Still, it could have been worse. As she pulls the wrapped string of beads from her arm, she kisses the dangling cross gently in gratitude, amazed that it survived the violence, and hangs it on the corner of the mirror. She surveys the damage to her body for a moment, sighs, fills a basin with water, and picks up a sponge.

Could have been lot worse.

Sal dabs her skin gingerly with a soft sponge as unwelcome tears drop into the cool water. The pain brings a longing for its sessation, the remembrance of a needle's sting and subsequent surge of relief and oblivion.

Damn her.

Those inhuman grey eyes brought back so much she wanted gone forever, and pressed new images into her unwilling brain.

I don't want to think of Lawrence and the Poppy Queen as ever having been human. And Molly. How could she?

Sal knows very well how Molly could fall prey to the Poppy Queen, as so many of her friends had, but the anger is still there. And now that the pain was back, so were the memories.

The fear.

The horror.

The betrayal.

The little tin box now at the bottom of the Ouse, where she thought it would be gone forever. But somebody lives in the Ouse.


The voice in her head as she pulled the trigger had been familiar. Was still tantalizingly familiar. A woman. Who? But as she remembered that moment, those gray eyes returned.

She's gone. It's really over. Let it go. You got her. Good shoot. You got her. Good shoot.

Gritting her teeth, Sal carefully pats dry, pulls on a soft red dress that flatters her tanned skin tones, belts it gently, and ties a colorful scarf do-rag style around her head, leaving just a fringe of curls peeking out, the unburned hair that had been sheltered by her arms during the inferno. Soft flats slip onto her feet.

All I want is some sack time, but with fae in the house...

She sighs and moves to the stairs, pausing a moment to listen before descending, assessing the situation as she would survey hostile terrain. Without the Kevlar vest and rifle, she feels oddly naked, but now is not the time to retrieve her gear from Frost's trunk. The urge for protection reminds her that she's forgotten something, and she disappears into her room for a moment. When she returns, the darkened beads of the rosary hang openly around her neck, familiar and comforting.

Evil GM

Bunny bounces inside, uncaring about the night air, the situation or pretty much anything. The youthful werewolf makes herself at home naturally in the surroundings as she sashays past the butler.

Whilst for his part Fothergill makes sure he's ready for the others at the entrance, inviting them inside without a word but an implicit gesture. As Sal walks past him, he passes her a first aid box that he procured from a nearby cabinet. "Master Trip always needed it after his little excursions." His cultured voice is soft with a warm cadence. A brief glance at the box shows it to be a battered tin old military thing, but with perfectly immaculate dressings and contents.

Although it does seem like all the 'pain-relief' drugs in the box have been subtly removed but Fothergill.

As Danny & Morien escort the Fey Lady inside; Fothergill does nod and with a wistful smile at long forgotten days amongst the suks of the peninsula. "Certainly, we've even a delightful blend of beans. One might be inclined to comment that it is a trifle sweet, being an unorthodox combination." He point Morien to the Snug where the pots are, relying that she knows where the pantry is. As Danny nips upstairs to get changed into a new suit and get cleaned up; the butler leads Laverna inside into the Dining Room.

Molly gets off the Commando stiffly having not been used to riding motorbikes before, her hands had a firm grasp on her brother as the rode. She now looks to Kenneth with glazed eyes, though the bomb might not have hurt her as much physically her mental barrier is still rigid. The haughty demeanour has been scoured from her, dark lines deepen her eyes. Her lips once capable of a cruel sneer or sultry quirk now resign themselves to a thin line. Walking beside her brother, the once fancy Manolo Blahniks' barely lift off the ground. Nearly tripping up the steps Molly enters the mansion as Fothergill directs.

She shrugs off her office-jacket in a practised motion, as she enters the Dining Room.

Only to find Arjen, the Dutch Architect the group had rescued from the Hull drug-lab disguised as a warehouse, sat at an impressive rowan dining table. Mollys eyes widens as a slow realisation rolls through her, shoulders slump slightly as the jacket falls to the the floor with a thump.

Arjen looks up, a confused look across his face mixed with a smile at seeing the lawyer. Molly's porcelain mask crumbles and she starts to fall to the floor, her legs giving out on her. With natural quickness Arjen grabs her before she completely collapses to the ground. There she sobs heavily like a child into the confused Europeans shoulder.

Insight roll if you wish. She'll be like this for a while whilst people freshen up.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Oooh nice! Sorry, been busy at work. Will post something appropriate tomorrow. :)

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Male Warrior-Bard of Old; Herald of Brigid Stress: P: XOOO M:XXXO S:OOO; Fate Points: 2; BRUISED RIBS (moderate)

Almost exactly what he said...

Evil GM

Fothergill returns to the dining room, keeping his eyes slightly averted from the hugging pair. Placing a large serving bowl of steaming peas upon the table he announces politely; "Your naked friend is raiding the larder and will be out soon. I took the liberty of supplying her with a shirt and some jodhpurs."

He walks around the table putting out clean and steaming plates.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Danny tosses Fothergill a tired but grateful smile as he passes the elder manservant and tries not to stumble as he enters the house.

The thought wearily flutters through his tired brain that there is a considerable difference between a 'servant', even a good one, and an 'Alfred'.

Fothergill was most assuredly in the Alfred category.

Danny idly wonders if the huge house is hiding any secret entrances to caves, before he has to concentrate all of his energy and focus on climbing the grand staircase.

Danny shuffles down the hallway, trying to recall which of the 'spare rooms' Fothergill had shown him he could use if needed. He passed one closed door, and thought he briefly heard a sob, like someone crying. But with the thick carpets, and antique heavy doors, he couldn't be certain. He paused to listen for a moment. But the sound never repeated. Danny was too tired to shrug as he moved on. Besides, If it was Sal, she was tougher than he'd ever be. With Ken's magical healing to assist her, she'd be fine. Right?

Danny reached a door that he was pretty sure was the right room. Heck with it. It's have to do. He wasn't sure he could make it to the end of the hall to keep looking. He entered and checked the closet for towels, sure enough it had a modest selection of men's clothing hanging in it. Good. He'd look pretty silly in a skirt.

Danny winced and hissed as he undressed, feeling every pain, bump and bruise he's gotten in the last day or so. His burnt clothing he tossed in the wastebasket. He was pleasantly surprised to find that his leather jacket, which had done it's job and protected him from the worst of the evening's final fireworks bouncy-ride, was amazingly unscathed. Yeah it was dirty and slightly scorched, but not anything a really good leather cleaners couldn't fix. He hoped.

He turned on the hot water in the shower and let it run as he scrubbed his face clean in the sink. He wiped the collected moisture from the mirror and looked at himself. Ouch. Those bruises were gonna be adorable real soon. They were already purpling nicely. No wonder he felt like a punching bag. He LOOKED like a punching bag. The twins were gonna love that. Gave him a real macho-masochist vibe.
Yeah he wasn't fooling himself. The girls had never seen him without his shirt except at a swimming pool. (Not for a lack of trying.)

Danny sighed and entered the blessed heat of the shower. As he scrubbed his hair into a semblance of cleanliness he pondered,... Maybe he needed an actual 'girlfriend'. Or something. The twins were great, and his new allies were amazing, but there HAD to be a better, SAFER way to relieve stress than diving head-first into an undead's home turf and telling them to give you their best shot. Or playing flirt-tag with a crime lord's daughters. Danny had no doubt that if that line was ever crossed, (Danny forced himself to think IF and not WHEN) that he would most likely not live long enough to regret it. The twins father was very cool and accepting of Danny up to a point. But he was also the definition of over-protective father. Seriously. His picture was next to the word in the dictionary and everything.

Danny felt himself sway in the shower. Oh yeah, he was way too relaxed now. He rinsed his hair and turned the hot water off, making himself endure the sharp cold blast of water for a few seconds to wake up. It worked surprisingly well. It almost felt,... good. On THAT thought, Danny firmly shut the cold water off and dried off fervently.

He dressed himself in clothes from the closet, again amazed at Alfred's,... er, Fothergill's amazing ability to provide spare clothing for guests he had only just met a few days ago, and glanced at the antique clock on the room's mantel. He was surprised at how short a time he had taken. He had thought he might take too long and offend Laverna. And his bruises,... was that one already fading? Danny shook his head and buttoned up his shirt. He was no Fae, no matter what the weird birthmark-thing that had recently appeared might try to hint.

As Danny was transferring his eclectic collection of odds and ends from his abused leather jacket to a denim one from the closet, he came upon a small, carefully wrapped package of pills. He eyed it thoughtfully.

Oh yes. It had been a present from the twins, who while unafraid to try new things, didn't feel the need for artificial stimulation. Much. (When life included running from trolls and weird undead band members, who needed drugs?!?) The twins had said it had been a gift from a 'friend' who was trying to work their way into the 'cool' crowd.

(It amazed him that rich = cool, no matter which side of the Pond you were on.)

Danny realized that he was looking at the package with serious intent. What the heck? He was no druggie. He WAS however very beaten, bruised and tired beyond words. He could barely form a coherent sentence, much less remember the words to a song. AND he had just basically challenged a powerful Fae that she would enjoy her evening. Or HE would regret it.

Yeah. Cold water-work-miracles or not, Danny really needed to be awake for the next few hours. On top of the ones he already HAD been awake for. How long had it been since he had a solid 8 hours sleep? He looked at the pills and their promise of enough energy to survive a late night of partying. Or all night if you took more.

Danny recalled the 'test run' he and the twins had taken. Just one pill had provided enough energy to go an entire night of dancing and drinking with surprisingly little side effects. It also had lowered their inhibitions quite a bit as he recalled. While stopping well short of the 'Your-Father-will-KILL-Me' line, he had seen more of the twins that night (both figuratively and literally) than he ever had before.

Danny smirked in spite of his aches. That was a fun night.

He re entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He very carefully weighed the potential pros and cons. He would be awake and alert for hours, able to maintain the required mental alertness for witty repartee that was required when dealing with Fae. Versus the fact that he really didn't care for drugs. He didn't like the way you felt when they wore off. At all.

Dangit. He REALLY needed to be awake to deal with Laverna. He frowned at himself in the mirror. He pondered.

A few moments later, Danny exited the room, signs of fresh cold water on his face, and a pep in his step.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Making his way down the back stairs, (which now that he was awake, he remembered how much closer it was) Danny skipped the last two steps in a gleeful hop. He felt much better. He passed by a doorway, then stopped, and slowly stepped backwards to peer in the room he had just passed.

There, was the unmistakable form of Bunny, (Identifiable by her, <ahem> attributes, despite her head and shoulders being hidden behind a door) shoulders deep in a pantry, her curvaceous rear end bouncing back and forth like a happy puppy.

At least she was wearing clothes. Fothergil again no doubt. Danny grinned at the sight. It was nice to see someone who could be so blasted happy just living in the moment. Then his brain clicked, and he almost facepalmed himself.

"Hey there Bunnicula! Save some chow there for the rest of us!" Danny laughed, entering the pantry room.

Bunny popped her head up in surprise, her arms full of packages and, I kid you not, a sausage held sideways in her mouth. Her wide-eyed look of innocent puppy-caught-in-the-act almost made Danny fall to the floor in laughter.

"It's alright Scoob-ette, I won't tell!" Danny grinned, taking a box of animal crackers from her arms and opening it, joining her in the act of pantry-theft. Her eyes shone in happiness, and she promptly re-enterd the pantry once more before pulling back and kicking the pantry door closed with a very attractive toe.

They munched happily together in silence for a few moments, Danny enjoying the view.

'Easy tiger. Twins. AND this is business, not pleasure.' Danny told himself as he chewed thoughtfully.

"So Bunny. I'm trying to figure out where you guys have met the Fae before. I know the Vamps and their followers luv your club, and so does everyone else, but I didn't know that Fae hung out their too?"
Danny asks innocently.

Danny pondered his next question, he didn't think Bunny would MIND telling him about how she knew some Fae, but he didn't want to jump out and accuse her and Andrew of being Fae-struck junkies either. THAT went over in some circles about as well as being accused as a vamp-venom-addict.

Evil GM

Quirking her head to one side, like a quizzical canine, a motion that brings a smile to Danny's face. "The club? Well it's mostly normal people." Her body seems to sway in a rhythmic motion, as if dancing in the club. Elegant and unconsciously appealing rather than a lurid crassness, the werewolf's movements bring a joyous freedom to her features. "Yeah, Laurence is part owner of the place - I've not really seen his partner before. I think G once said he'd seen her."

She stops moving and is a bit quizzical; "Oh, guess Larry has been fried." Bunny shrugs, her hair bounces which gives off a soft waft of burnt cinnamon. "I'm sure the club will carry on... or I'll find something else to do. Do need any modelling done? Or a dancer for your band?"

After the hopeful query she goes over to put a dirty plate in the sink, before splashing the water as she remembers something. "Oh silly me, you were asking about Fey. The only one I really remember coming in the club was you! Silly."

"I guess I could ask Andrew, but I'd rather not after all he was so broken up after that Princess Diana left him." She pouts a trifle sulkily, this is probably the most angry you ever seen her (even when she was ripping out peoples throats) and rather than annoyed it's more a pouting petulance. "He hardly left his room for a week after that. Super hard to cheer him up after that Diana. Funny that she was named after the royal lady. Did you see Princess Kate's hat last week, so cute. Just like the young prince - she'll make a fabulous Queen." The werewolfs words fall out in a tumble, as she starts to refer to mundane human royalty.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

"Wait,...what?" Danny holds up his hands, as if surrendering.

"Hold on Buns."

Danny takes a breath, forces his gaze upwards to stay focused on Bunny's face, and tries again.

"I think I missed a memo somewhere. Are you telling me that Andrew was 'Dating' Princess Diana?!?" He squeaks incredulously.

His wide-eyed expression makes it clear he isn't referring to the dearly departed mundane Royal.

"Yeah,.... That's the kind of thing that might make it hard to cheer someone up after." He agrees, still staring wide-eyed at the wall.

Bunny sure seemed 'miffed' about that particular subject. Totally unlike the usually agreeable Bouncing Bunny. Was that, is that what jealously looks like on a werewolf? Danny didn't like it. It was MUCH scarier than her wolf-ripping-your-throat-out version.

Danny silently filed THAT tidbit of information away under 'If I ever get involved with Bunny, Do NOT dump her for a Fae!'

2 people marked this as a favorite.
Male Warrior-Bard of Old; Herald of Brigid Stress: P: XOOO M:XXXO S:OOO; Fate Points: 2; BRUISED RIBS (moderate)

Ok, part 1. I do have a part 2 coming.

Kenneth winces as his sister releases her grip on his ribs, Ach, I dinnae want tae say anything, but I'm glad she isnae holding on quite so tight. He watches his sister step away, feeling something tighten in his chest as he sees her face, Ach, half an hour ago, she coudnae even focus and needed me tae lead her by the hand from a bloody burnin' building... And now, her walls are back...even with that stunned look on her face. Again. All this power, and here's a blasted wall I cannae get through. Here's just one more that I dinnae seem able tae save, now matter how hard I try...

He winces again as he gets off the bike, more from the mental pain than the physical. At least I ken that the ribs'll heal.. He stands back slightly, watching carefully, Surely there's a crack somewhere in that armour.

When his sister drop her jacket, knowing that the bloody thing must have cost more than the last motor replacement for the Commando, he cocks his head, And maybe that be it. He starts to rush forward to catch his sister, stopping short as Arjen does. Ach, the man has nice reflexes....

He stops, watching his sister, and this stranger, carefully for a moment, his analytical mind trying to process the scene before him.

Investigation (for insight): 2 + 4d3 - 8 ⇒ 2 + (3, 3, 1, 1) - 8 = 2

Well, maybe after wishing for years that I could save Molly, mayhap I've managed it... Though I've thought that afore... and, sadly, 'tis nearly impossible tae save someone from themselves... but this is something new, and mayhap she's starting tae value things other than power... which would be the right direction tae true healing....

Kenneth says, "Careful, Arjen. We were just in an explosion... though a bit ay fae magic saved our lives. There's nae thing broken, but I cannae say there won't be some nasty bruises or scrapes."

He turns his attention to Fothergill, then says quietly, "Sometimes, a body needs a different sort of nourishment than food provides."

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical


Hearing the sound of munching and quiet conversation emanating from the pantry, Sal follows her ears (and nose) to the source. Leaning carefully on the doorframe, she waves to Bunny and Danny, then quietly speaks to the latter. "When you get a moment, I need to see you in the wine cellar in the basement. It's important, before you head out to the clubs."

With a faint grin at Bunny's enthusiastic demolition of the pantry, she steps away briskly to her next target.


Though leery of intruding on the fey guest and her shepherd, Sal pauses some distance from the coffee-sipping pair and waits for Morien's attention to turn her way. "Excuse me for interrupting, but I need to see you for a moment when you have time, Morien," she says, in something near her practiced, brisk military speech, "I'll be in the basement examining the wine cellar." With a respectful half-nod, half-bow, she backs away and heads for the next victim.


The sight of the lawyer sobbing in her paramour's arms with her brother looking on stops Sal in her tracks. Utterly unwilling to intrude, she pauses for a moment before quietly approaching the bard and tugging gently on his sleeve. "I'm really sorry," she whispers, stretching up to tiptoe to approach Kenneth's ear, "I need to see you with the others in the basement before you go anywhere. Bad timing, but there are things you need to know."

In the Wine Cellar:

Sal waits until the three arrive, pacing nervously and painfully around the basement until all are assembled.

"Sorry to drag you all down here, but tonight was a really close shave. If anything happens to me, you guys need to know about this." She drags over a battered bag that they might well recognize from the wreckage of the drug lab in Whitby. She pauses a moment, then unzips it and holds it wide to reveal the banded stacks of cash.

"I haven't counted it all, but I reckon there's about half a million pounds here. Drug money. Blood money. Part of me says to turn it in, but another part says that we could put it to better use off the record, so to speak. I know I could sure use some of it just to live, and maybe... well, build a future. I could buy some paperwork to get me legal here, or at least looking like it, maybe... never mind. But there's way more here than I need. Surely we could do some good with it, get better equipped for fighting the things that go bump in the night?" Rising, she backs away from the money as if it were radioactive. "You were all there. Figure you all deserve part of it or a say in what it goes to."

"Second, the doc upstairs, Ogilvy? His melon got coshed pretty good and I don't know if he's quite right yet, but he seems to think he might be able to use his old research results to, well... to find a cure or maybe a vaccine against the red's venom. Using the blood of somebody who is naturally immune. Like me. So there might be a cure for the addicts, and that seems to be how they wield power, so... She grimaces, eyes flickering to Kenneth's face then away. "So, what do we do with him? If we let him go, how do we know he won't run off? This could be big, right? He says he needs a lab, too, but his was destroyed. Maybe some of this cash could replace what he lost?" She shrugs, then winces at the movement.

"Next thing is... I'm hurt pretty bad. Lucky to be alive, I think. And unless the magic can do more, I need a medic. I got burns where I can't reach. And no..." a fierce glare at Danny emphasises the negative..."...nobody else here is looking at them. Burns aren't anything to mess with. And I still can't move my elbow very well. So I could use a ride to the hospital. Honestly, I think if we all say we were down by the riverside when the building blew up, nobody will think anything of us going to the ER. We don't look like terrorists. That's probably who'll get blamed. So can you guys drop me on your way to the club, if you aren't going to get checked out yourselves?"

Finally, she pulls her dead cell phone from a pocket and holds it up by two figers. "And can anyone use magic or something to dry out my phone? It got exploded and burned and drowned." She regards it mournfully, as one might a dead pet.

Evil GM

Arjen ruffles Mollys hair softly as he looks far-away.

Whilst Fothergill nods to Kenneth; "One provides as much as he's able..." He says making sure that the food is prepared and served.

Bunny bounces back into the dining room and starts up the radio on the TV, the friendly werewolf is obviously the kind-of-person at home anywhere & with enough charm to mitigate the ire of a disturbed host.

Changling Spellsinger Physical: [X] [X] [] Mental: [X] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Following Sal and meeting the others into the basement,... wine cellar,... whatever. Danny stares, mouth agape, at the bag of money.

He continues to stare, mouth agape, as Sal mentions something about a possible cure or vaccine or something for Vamp-venom.

He is still staring, but manages to close his mouth as Sal mentions going to the hospital.

He finally manages to pull his gaze away from the bag as Sal holds out her poor abused cell phone.

Danny looks at the phone, and Sal's hangdog expression. He explodes in a single burst of laughter. Part-amusement, part stress-relief, the tension that had been building in the room, both physical, mental and possibly magical, popped like a soap bubble.

"Holy Bank-robberies Batman! All this,... and your worried about your phone?!? I think you can afford to buy a new one!" He points out wryly, once again gazing at the bag of money.

"Heck, with all this, you can afford to buy a small phone company!" He adds incredulously, reaching towards the bag as if mesmerized. He stops just short of actually touching it, as if afraid that it might burn him or something. Or worse, turn out to be a mirage.

I,... really think that turning it in is a bad idea. Not because I want it!" He adds hastily. "I mean, sure I could use a few extra bucks, but THIS,... this isn't some lost wallet on the street with a few bob in it. THIS is the kind of thing that brings attention. And I think I've had enough of that for a bit."

He looks at the others. "What? I don't ALWAYS have to be the center of attention." He protests feebly in the light of their skeptical stares.

Danny clears his throat.

"Anyway, the money. We can't give it back to wherever it came from. And even if we could, it would probably just go to buy more street drugs or something. I find the thought of taking the bad guy's money and using it against them to be very Karmic. That's my vote."

"Um, hospital? After everything that's happened tonight and the last few days? I think the cops are going to be on high alert and uber-suspicious. Even if they aren't, they will want in-depth interviews with ANYONE who might have been near what went down tonight. I think any medical help we need should come from Tripp and his friends. You know, someone who won't bring the cops into the room before they bring the band-aids? I mean, we've got magic, and Tripp, and now you, can probably afford the finest doctors money can buy."

Danny looks at Sal with a raised eyebrow. "You seem awfully,... upright, For someone who was even closer to the blast than we were. You sure you don't want a second opinion on those burns?" He asks with an innocent smile.

As Sal turns her head to look at Danny directly, Danny prudently takes a single, slow, large step backwards.

"Yes,... Well,... I'M feeling much better nowthankyouforasking. At least, nothing a week of sleep won't cure. I think. Meanwhile, I have a VIF upstairs. A Very Important Fae. Whom I have basically challenged to an evening of enlightened enjoyment with mere mortals. I should probably go and deliver on that sooner rather than later. For such long-lived people, they are very short on patience. So if no one minds, I'll just borrow THIS,..." Danny steps forward and deftly plucks a single banded stack of money from the duffel of evil cash, then steps back out of Sal's reach as he tucks it into his borrowed jacket.

",... For tonight's entertainment, not for me!" Danny hastily assures the group as he backs towards the door. "The rave should just be getting good, and I know a great blues club that should seal the deal. I would really like to end this VERY long week on a positive note with Laverna. I mean, I'm due to have ONE plan go the way I actually planned it, right?"

Danny stops at the doorway to the wine cellar.

"Oh, yeah. I noticed tonight that both Bunny and Andrew show signs of being completely Fae-struck when Lawrence 'gifted' them. That's not something that happens overnight. Bunny mentioned that Andrew used to date Princess Diana. And I don't mean the one we all know and love. Gotta run, See you later!"

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

"But... this has my contacts," Sal moans.

Male Warrior-Bard of Old; Herald of Brigid Stress: P: XOOO M:XXXO S:OOO; Fate Points: 2; BRUISED RIBS (moderate)

Kenneth nods to Fothergill, and smiles, "Aye, I wouldnae ask ye tae dae any more.", then steps back, taking a deep breath and wincing, I thought it was just Molly holding on, but I'm thinking the blast may have cracked a rib or tae... Lady, you may lend your Herald a wee fraction ay your strength, but that doesnae make it hurt any less.

He pauses as Sal approaches, then nods, "Aye, I was just about tae give them a wee moment." He follows Sal down, then throws a questioning eyebrow at Danny.

He watches, then whistles as Sal opens the bag, "Aye, that's a wee nest egg indeed."

He shrugs, "I dinnae ken what would be best. That would seem tae be the sort of coin that a body would miss... and 'tisnae usually wise tae be the one found holding the bag when they come looking."

He looks at Sal, "A'course, if they think it be lost, then that could give a body a bit ay time tae dae some spending... as long as ye not be seen spending it, ye ken... though setting up a secret lab may be just a clever way tae dae just that... That, a'course, assumes you can trust that man upstairs, ye ken."

The bard then chuckles, "I think ye have the wrong ay it -- magic can heal a body, and I suspect your situation is more a lingering ache than any real damage that ye'd need tae trouble a doctor with... whereas, it'd blast the data on your phone inta wee bits ay oblivion.. or, tae be fair, mine would at least. Fae magic doesnae have the same effect on technology... as I recall, 'tis something about their nature. Still, I dinnae ken that I'd want tae owe one ay them a favour, 'specially when ye can accomplish most ay that by moving your SIM card."

Kenneth says, "I'd say tae keep enow tae buy yourself some legal papers.... and, mayhap, I ken a body back in auld Reekie that could help if ye'd like tae end up with Scots papers... and tae set yourself up.. at least tae start... though with Trip away, I wouldnae want tae have poor Fothergill get lonely."

Kenneth nods at Danny's statement, "Aye, and I'd best see if my sister truly does have a heart, and mayhap e'en a soul... though I must confess tae having trouble believing it... and if mayhap.. just mayhap... there's enow ay both tae actually save her and have it stick."

He then chuckles, and then whistles again, "Diana? Aye? I dinnae think furball had it in him."

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

"The money, only we know about it. I'm betting they think it went up with the rest of the lab, in that explosion and fire. Before tonight's explosion and fire. Do things always blow up this much in Yorkshire? Anyway, I think it's ours, free and clear. Question is, what's the best thing to do with it?" Sal shrugs. "I gotta say, I wouldn't mind having a bit to fix up one of the outbuildings here as a place of my own. Mansions... they're not exactly my style, right? But yeah, I wouldn't mind hanging around to keep Fothergill out of trouble."

The idea of a SIM card transplant seems to fill the former soldier with dismay. "I guess I'll need a new phone, then. But that means going to the phone store. And they'll try to sell me a new plan." Sal shivers at the horror of it all.

Kenneth's offer of a source for papers brings a true smile to her face. "'re the guy who knows a guy? I expected it from Danny with his shifty acquaintances," she laughs, dark eyes dancing, "But I didn't expect it from the herald of a goddess! Scots papers... hmm... I understand they were some badass fighters. Real warriors. I could... yeah, I could be proud to carry those." She nods thoughtfully, still smiling. "Don't think I can pull off the accent, but as an immigrant, it might work."

"As for your sister, man, don't be too hard on her. My squad, they were family. I'd trust any of them with my life. But once those things got hold of them, they did some seriously warped stuff, things I know they'd never do. It wasn't them anymore. Maybe Molly will be OK now, once she's off that venom. Give her a chance. If my guys were still alive, I would." Intense and serious, Sal doesn't realize that she's seized the tall Scots' forearm in a tight grip until her speech is over. She hastily lets go, backing away a couple of steps with a mumbled 'sorry', then frowns for a second before again raising her eyes to the bard's. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? Privately? When you get time, I mean. Nothing urgent."

Male Warrior-Bard of Old; Herald of Brigid Stress: P: XOOO M:XXXO S:OOO; Fate Points: 2; BRUISED RIBS (moderate)

Kenneth chuckles, "I was also a traveling musician, ye ken, afore I became the respectable body I am now... and so I ken a few folk with the skill tae make papers." He then gestures at the bag of money, "...and I'd imagine ye can find a few pound-notes tae buy a new phone outright.. ye can just tell the annoying salesman tae bugger off."

He then sobers and nods, "Aye. I would have thought so, save that I've seen reasons tae think otherwise. In Molly's case, though, the addiction was power and status, and it came afore she e'er touched venom, ye ken. It isnae that wouldnae like tae believe in her, it's just that the venom be a symptom and nae the disease... and, worse, I couldnae sense any venom in her back at the police station... So I dinnae ken what, exactly, she's been intae."

He pauses and looks about, then nods, "Aye. While it may give her more time tae get her armour up, especially where her loss ay a wee bairn brother be concerned, I dinnae want tae pressure her tae much if she's actually healing... so I can spare a wee bit ay time." He pauses, then shrugs, "Much as I was hoping for a warm shower tae relax the muscles, it willnae knit my ribs any faster."

P: ◘ x ◘ ◘ S: ◘ ◘ M: X ◘ FP: X X ◘ ◘ ◘ +1 ; Minor mental, moderate physical

As Morien follows Danny to entertain their fae guest for the night, Sal gives her a nod and a muttered careful. "I don't like this. We're hurt and now separated. The soldier in me says this would be the perfect time to hit us. Let's hope our enemies have been hurt enough tonight that they can't muster a response," she grumbles, "And I didn't know you were hurt. You should have saved the magic to heal yourself. Keep the medic alive: second rule of battle. Shouldn't have wasted it on me. Though if you want to take a hot shower while we talk, I wouldn't object." She grins wickedly as she rummages through the wine cellar storage, one-handedly depositing a corkscrew, two glasses, and a bottle of dark, rich liquid. She holds the bottle out to Kenneth. "Anesthetic? You'll have to do the honors. There's a good reason you don't find many one-armed wine stewards. Maybe Fothergill can strap your ribs. That should help your breathing. I've seen it done in the field and it's easy enough if you've two strong arms."

"I know what you mean about Molly. There are addicts and there are addicts. Maybe this will shake her enough to change. Or maybe Arjen will help where you couldn't. Sometimes, family is too close and too familiar for us to listen to. If she had any sense, she'd appreciate having her brother around. Not much you can do besides be there if she ever changes. Don't close the door, you know?" Sal shrugs, then winces as the motion makes fabric pull across fresh burns. Her face grows thoughtful as she begins to pace unconsciously, trying to put together the words to address what's foremost in her mind. After a couple of deep breaths and false starts, she sighs and launches into it.

"You said you serve a goddess. How... how do you know. I mean... what makes you think that? Did something happen?" She pauses, then blurts the rest. "Like a voice in your head in answer to a prayer?" Despite her best effort to sound nonchalant, her voice quavers on the last question.

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