Summary:Fenris is expecting a friend … Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Tracing Oliver via the stolen life force had proven a… mixed bag. On the one hand, they had gotten a location for if not Oliver then at least what he took. On the other hand that location was not a location as such. It was the void. Ambrose's life had been ripped from him and sent to the darkness beyond the furthest stars, between worlds. The places where no life is nor has ever been. The In Between Places full of Nameless things that Should Not Be.
What is being done with it there does not bear thinking on, though Ambrose is probably doing just that.
Tonight, though, they do a bit of follow up on that. Fenris has brought Astryd and Ambrose to a rooftop near the Met and told both of them that he is sure that their services will be needed shortly and in the meantime would they like some chinese takeout?
He's eating lo mien. Right now.
The tall stern blonde stands on the rooftop and gives Fenris a look. "Really, my heart, I could have packed us a basket of food if I knew we would be picnicing." There's the faintest of smiles as she loops her arm through the God Wolfs. "But Chinese take out sounds just divine."
Giving Ambrose a once over, Astryd considers the man. "How are you holding up, Ambrose?"
At one point, Kent literally needed to sedate Ambrose for thinking too hard about what's being done with the life force taken from him. He's since returned to a more normal state of mind and, at least, a relatively normal sense of pluck.
For lo, there he is, seated on an air conditioning outlet certain to be silent due to the cooler night air of spring. Ambient light catches in his silvery-white hair and on the buttons of his thick field-coat. In black fatigue-pants and jackboots, it's possible that dressing as if he meant business psychologically bolstered his current poise. While Fenris has lo mien, Ambrose is still only halfway done with an eggroll, one of two he's claimed for himself with a napkin in-hand.
He glances up when Astryd speaks to him. The Bane-glow is consistently in the back of his pupils now, but his youthful appearance beneath the lightened hair remains and so do his dimples, if more faint than usual. "I am as well as circumstances warrant, I suppose. I am not the best at staying down when kicked, but Kent has been greatly supportive. I've not seen him stash weaponry all over in years," the Jackal jests mildly. "Though, I fully admit, that I cannot sleep and yet wish to sleep is profoundly irritating and if there is any manner to recovering that which is lost, by all means, tally ho."
"That is always one of the things about the people of your islands that I have admired. Occasionally down but never out." Stiff upper lip had been a thing for Britons long before there had ever been an England or even English. Fenris licks his fingers and then reaches down to find a wrapped fortune cookie. He cracks it open and peers at the paper inside.
"A close friend will soon pay a visit." Fenris sighs. "Ominous. What does yours say Astryd?"
It says 'You will soon take an exotic journey.'
Ambrose's, when he breaks into it, says 'A long awaited reunion is at hand.'
"Did I mention I got this meal because I know where the fortune cookies are made? Local place. Owned by a 'practitioner'."
Below the lights on the Met go out. "Right on schedule. I do believe that the Met is being robbed…"
Astryd has just about finished her meal. The remnants of orange chicken in the container by her side. "A practioner, you say?" She shows the other two the fortune she just opened. A 'close friend' has the blonde peering at the God Wolf again.
"Lay back and think of England?" The Valkyrie smirks but it's a pale thing really, there's concern that underlies her questions.
An exotic journey - she's not sure how exotic would have to be exotic given the places she usually goes. But it doesn't fill her with confidence.
"If the Met is being robbed, do we watch or intervene?"
Eyebrowing at the Dread Wolf's sudden interest in the contents of his fortune cookie, Ambrose still crackles open the wrapper and parts the delicate confection. He pulls out the crisp white rectangle of paper, printed in red lettering, and peers at it.
His glowing pupils rise to Fenris at his comment. If possible, the Jackal's lips go thinner. "…ruddy practitioners," he mutters most ungratefully at the potential for this particular fortune to come true. Astryd's comment does make the Englishman laugh under his breath.
"Kent said to me just last week…"
He's also biting into the half of his first eggroll when the whump of killed electricity reaches his ears. Pausing, the master-thief stands and walks over to the edge of the building. He observes and finishes chewing his bite of Chinese food.
"I say. Whomever that is has quite the pair," he opines airily. "Hopefully they took into account the back-up generators for both the interior lighting and the security systems. They are serious there." He glances over at Fenris and Astryd almost innocently. Who's done homework on the place?
Not Ambrose. Never Ambrose.
Granted, the master-thief then squints down at the museum in a manner most would recognize as…territorial. "I am tempted to intervene…" For selfish reasons.
"And the fact that it's sure to get a police response. In fact I think we SHOULD be hearing the old fashioned 'scare the burglar away by being noisy' alarms about now." The Old Wolf cocks his head. "But we aren't. So they must be quite good."
Fenris smiles at Astryd and cracks his knuckles. "We intervene of course. If I am not mistaken there is a replica of the Antikythera mechanism on display this month."
Odd that someone should want to steal a replica but that is exactly what Fenris is implying. And… the Antikythera mechanism?
Whatever several figures shrouded in darkness are seen approaching one of the side doors and opening it without toooo much apparent trouble.
"You can lie back and think of England later Astryd. Shall we? Game's afoot."
Astryd squints at Fenris "Antikythera mechanism. The Greek analogue computer that was said to be the first such device used to predict astronomical positions and eclipses for calendar and astrological purposes decades in advance? Someone else has been doing their homework."
Who the hell is the old friend, she wonders.
An Olympian?
"Oh, I'm sure I won't be thinking about England later, my heart…" The valkyrie takes her hair pin out and it transforms into a sword and shield.
"Tally ho, then."
Ambrose frowns to hear of the proposed target-item and turns back to calmly watch the arrival of the shadow-shielded individuals. Sighing at his second eggroll, he then returns and places it back into its original container, given there were no Jackal-germs on it.
"I would blow a fox-horn, but our approach would be rather apparent if I were to do such a thing," he comments. A gesture to the fire escape tendriling down the side of the building is accompaned by a wry look at Fenris in particular.
"Shall we use the stairs or do you wish to use one of your Ways?" Such a long-suffering cast to the Jackal's expression.
"Or at least that's what the mortals think it was for." Fenris says as he gestures to the fire escape. He'd chosen this rooftop for a reason. By the time they're down and across the street the figures have all vanished into the museum and none of come out. The museum is dark but for emergency lighting that has its own battery power sources.
"Mmmm. The greek display is that way, but we'll want to make sure that they aren't taking other things." Fenris whispers to the other two. He leans down to examine something dropped on the tile. It's hair or… fur. He picks it up and sniffs at it.
"Mmmmmm. Astryd take a sniff of this. Doesn't it remind you of… Gevaudan?"
They'd been living in the area at the time. And no, that WASN'T Fenris. Or at least, most of it wasn't.
As Fenris is handing the tuft of fur to Astryd two things happen. One is a clattering noise comes from further inside, along with some swearing in what Ambrose might be shocked to find is Hindi. The other is a chill that runs down both Ambrose and Astryd's back. Three blocks down - while Fenris' back is turned - an eyeless wolf emerges to stand under a street light. It stares at Ambrose and Astryd for a long moment, then deliberately picks its way across the street and vanishes from sight.
Astryd is silent as they make across and takes the tuft of fur when it's handed to her. Sniffing at it, the blondes nose wrinkles. "Very much. Are you going to tell me this is *that line* again?" Gevaudan. South-Central France. Ambrose has probably heard the story of the Beast of Gevaudan.
She's about to turn in the direction of the clatter when that wolf appears. "It wants us to see it and I can't help but wonder if we should follow it." Is it a portent? Astryd isn't sure.
Thank god, not a Way. Ambrose's stomach is very grateful for it; that eggroll tasted excellent going down. With the hood of his field-jacket pulled up and an admitted, slight slouch to his striding, he sticks closer to the Raven and Dread Wolf than normal. The Bane, hungry as ever and moreso than normal, is kept on a tight leash.
He looks away from the mysterious tuft of fur when he hears the sounds from inside and there's almost a flock-dog intensity to the manner of his Bane-lit stare. "I do believe someone is visiting from another country after-hours," he murmurs for the others to hear, implication in his tone. Trickling of cold makes him roll his shoulders and immediately orient on the distant figure of…
…that goddamned eyeless wolf. Ambrose chuffs and bares his teeth. "It is no longer a coincidence that the thing is present." Astryd gets a particularly sharp glance. "My lady, were I in full health, I would dare it myself. It has skirted. Another time, perhaps."
Pinch yourself, it's the Jackal sounding wise for once.
"We have closer mysteries at hand." He nods not only to the tuft of hair, but towards the interior of the Met. "And we might know who's trespassing."
It's the white hair, no doubt, helping with that wisdom. People always say that wisdom comes with the white hair. Ambrose has just gotten it a bit early by his appearance. Or a bit late if you know his actual story.
"See… oh that wolf you keep seeing." The one that never appears to Fenris. He frowns and looks in that direction but then shakes his head and turns back. "Come on."
Soon things are not at all quiet. Something is grunting. And something else is hissing.
"Hurry up, Slither-Thing. Take the machine and let us go." That's a deep voice. A rough voice. They're drawing closer to it as they move through the Egyptian displays toward the Greek ones.
"I'm TRYING. Thissss thing is heavy." That… that sounds a LOT like Rachana. Who SHOULD be in Patna. Not here. "I don't perform well under pressure. Or when kidnapped. So if you don't mind?"
"Do you perform well disemboweled?" The rough voice says and other murmurs second him.
Fenris pauses near a corner. They're in the next room, he's sure of it. "Sounds like… seven. One, maybe two smell like Naga. The rest smell… wolfy."
And not in a good way. "We have the drop on them…" He peers and then motions for the others to look. Two naga, one of which MIGHT be Rachana are struggling to get a heavy casing off the display that houses the Antikythera mechanism. Around them are five… things. Vaguely lupine in shape but not in scent or movement. Bestial sure, but not strictly wolfish. The leader is a huge hulking thing. Something which well deserves the name 'Beast'. It's the nearest to the trio and its back is partly turned. There are other displays and stanchions all around so the approach and the room are anything but clear.
"You may be right. There's only one way to find out." Astryd answers. She'll think on that eyeless wolf and work out something. Ambrose is right though, they have more immediate concerns.
"For Asgards sake… They haven't evolved in all these years…" The blonde rolls her eyes at the Beasts that are gathered. "I'll distract them, Ambrose. You get the Naga to Fenris to get out of here."
It's not clear. Not at all.
"I say, can anyone help me?" The Valkyrie steps around the displays so she can be seen as best she can. "I was looking for the entrance to the subway."
It really is the hissing which has the fine hairs on Ambrose's neck rising. However, even he can catch the foreign musky scent of the trespassers, and his nose wrinkles as he ghosts along behind Fenris and Astryd. To hear Fenris report of 'Naga' has his heart leaping up into his throat.
Heads probably semi-stack in their peering around the corner, the Jackal's silvery-pale head being one of them. He silently bares his teeth. "Of course." Before Astryd steps into clear view with clear voice, he makes to slip into the room and immediately behind one of the displays, incredibly light-footed and quick to hold still in the shadows, eyes barely slitted open. One revolver is drawn like a magic trick from inside his coat, just in case.
He holds his breath when he hears Astryd come into clear view with clear voice.
That gets everyones attention. Astryd finds seven sets of eyes staring at her. One of the naga IS indeed Rachana, in snake form and she looks shocked. But that's not the biggest surprise in the room. The big beast that turns around is bare chested and covered in greyish fur. It has a large scar from a spear and it stares down at Astryd. It stares down at her and then lifts its lip and growls low, baring fangs. "Marie…"
Oh yes. It KNOWS Astryd. And Astryd knows it. This is not one of Fenris' children. Not directly. It may be somehow tangentially related but if so the two never discovered how. But it knows her. They've met before.
"Kill." It says, and the others of it's mob - pack? - immediately scramble around obstacles to get to her.
Well that's one way to attract their attention.
Of course, Astryd asks this while holding her shield and sword. There is absolutely no way she's lost or from the authorities.
"Robere…" Ambrose and Fenris will hear the shock in her voice but she recovers quickly. "Kill? That's not what you wanted to do the last time we met. Then again, I also told you, my Wolf was more wolf than you'll ever be. Was that before or after I said I would neuter you? I can't remember…." beat "… this is the same sword though. Do you remember?"
The Valkyrie should have probably mentioned the next bit - but in all honesty it slipped her mind. Calling on her innate power, a mist forms in the room obscuring everything. Now the beasts have to go around the obstacles that they're going to have trouble seeing. Astryd leaps to the top of one displays - hopefully it's sturdy enough to hold her weight - and drops the pommel of her sword on the head of the first beast that blunders by.
The timbre of the Beast's voice is deep enough to make Ambrose swallow where he hides behind his display. He risks a sliver of a glance around it to see the grouping of subordinate creatures make a mad dash at the Valkyrie armed with shield and sword. Waiting until they've all passed by, he then slips out and quickly darts over towards the pair of Naga and the mock-Device.
"You are far from where you should be, I think?!" From half-behind another display, Ambrose chides Rachana immediately in a harsh whisper. He gestures for both Naga to follow him. "Follow me and be swift, they will only be distracted for…so long."
He sighs to see the thick mist now obscuring the far and greater spread of the room itself. It swiftly overtakes them and now Ambrose is a murkier silhouette with two ruby-bright pupils a-glow.
"You will regret that a thousand times when I slay him!" Robere screams.
The mist makes the light from the emergency lighting even less effective and lends the whole fight amid the displays and stanchions almost haunting. Like it's taking place in a dream or a vision. Astryd brains the first beast that runs by. The next tries to yank her off the display but fails. A third and fourth begin to push on it, trying to rock it back and forth to knock her off and that might work but 'Robere' is already howling in fury and moving toward them, leaping up onto a display and picking up a thousand year old spear head to fling at the Valykrie. Possibly not the smartest move in the world but he is clearly hurt, furious or both.
"Ambrose!" Rachana hisses. "What?! No, never mind. Please, take us away from here. We can explain later." But will they get the chance. One of the cleverer beasts is starting to pick up a display of his own, possibly to throw or smash open the one they were trying to steal. He hasn't seen Ambrose yet but he will in a moment if he and the Naga don't vanish or deal with him.
"Did Robere teach you that lullaby?" Astryd asks the beasts who are rocking the case. It might work but the blonde sweeps her blade in arc below her - they'll have to get out the way or be injured. She doesn't really care which. "Rock a bye baby? No? Well, he never really was father material." Those cold grey eyes come up and fix on the Beast as he leaps onto the display
"Or a Mate. Far too emotional and definitely not strong enough." She's prodding that anger and hurt. Astryd knows how to put the beast off kilter and she's very good at it. "Slay Fenris? Oh come now, we both know that you aren't anything near him."
Oops. There's the spear - it will hurt if it hits. Robere is quite strong, no matter the taunts that Astryd is using. Timing the move, the blonde waits till the spear is in the air and sidesteps to the next case, letting the thing whistle by. "Hey. This is one of my favourites shirts. If you rip it, I'll be most displeased."
Come on Ambrose. Get them out of there.
"It is temporary," the Jackal claims firmly of his state. He can make out the silhouette of the beast attempting to move another display and that…simply won't do. "Do cover your ears, this might be a touch loud — and be ready to run afterwards."
With that, his revolver is lifted, aimed, and the trigger pulled with unerringly accuracy even in the gloom. The Bane assists with its eerie sixth sense for life there and now snuffed, quickly as a candle. After the gunshot, he immediately darts for the side of the room, the Naga quick on his heels.
The gunshot gets attention and Ambrose is made keenly aware of this when a stanchion comes sailing out of the mist in his general direction. It's not well aimed, it would miss even without moving but it tells him that they know he's there. Two of the beasts peel off to look for him, and odds are good they can smell him out so he'll need to move. Fenris is waiting when he gets back with a Way open. No complaining. They need to vanish. Well, Ambrose could stay if he wanted but the Naga need to vanish.
Robere is in no mood to go chasing gunshots though. He comes right at Astryd even as the rest of his beasts are forced by her blade to scamper away. He leaps right at her, jaws open, eyes red. He's furious and he doesn't know if he wants to kill her or try to capture her. All he knows is that he has to beat her. He has to win.
This is, largely, what happened the last time. It's what led to Marie Jeanne Valet becoming known as 'The Maid of Gevaudan'.
There goes the stanchion, whiffing a foot in front of him in his dead sprint along the wall and he actually skids in his boots, so hard does the Jackal momentarily hit the brakes. Blinking down at the stanchion, he then picks it up because hey: a free weapon is a free weapon.
"Through the Way and be swift — no arguments, Rachana-chitchor, I might well see you on the other side," says Ambrose when they arrive. He gestures at the nebulous entry to the Way and then looks to Fenris. "I intend to take the replica Device. They must be allowed no advance."
With that, unless otherwise halted, Ambrose turns to attempt to disappear back into the mist, still armed with gun and stanchion against the two beasts nosing through the thick fog.
Astryd just laughs as Robere gets even angrier. She'd been disparaging the first time they fought and now, she's got that reckless streak to bolster it. "Still quite limp, I see. What's wrong, Robere? Do strong women frighten you. Come at me, you know want to… Show your men what a real Beast can do."
The blonde smiles cruelly and adds "Oh wait. You don't know what a *real* beast is." As she's talking, the blonde manages to pick the spear up with her sword hand, the sword held in her left with her shield.
"Do you remember the last time we met, Robere?" She says sweetly. "You had wanted to give me something hard and long. If I remember correctly, I gave to you instead."
All she's waiting for now is the word from the others and she'll fall back as well, if she's told to.
Robere snarls, beyond words now and launches himself at Astryd bodily. Jaws first. It looks very familiar. He had done similar three hundred years ago. The noise is quite muted beyond the immediate circle of the fight though. A property of Astryd's fog. Ambrose can hear the snarling and the clang of metal on stone but it sounds like it's coming from a long way away and the direction is uncertain. Instead he prowls through the half light produced by the emergency lighting. He can hear the snuffling. But he can't see anything but swirling mist. And then to his right- wait no. Nothing there.
To his left though, there is something and one of the beasts comes bounding out of the fog at him.
It is absolutely eerie as he travels through the mist. Now the Bane is right beneath his skin, tracking the movements of life through a sixth sense which feels like the subtle magnetic pull of a lodestone nearing a compass. The sounds of being tracked have goosebumps cloaking him and his teeth bared unthinking.
From the left comes one of the creatures and he quickly steps to one side, as a torrero might a charging bull, and pulls the trigger again in a quick execution. In one flowing motion, he then ducks and janks hard to one side before breaking into an all-out sprint towards the direction of the faux-Device. The staunchion is still being hefted, but with less certain skill than before.
Arriving at the pedestal with the copy of the mechanism behind glass, there's no grace to the acquisition — no finessing to avoid alarm — and Ambrose swings the staunchion with force down upon the glass. A grand sound it is, and potentially all the more alarming. He tosses the staunchion aside for the faux-Device and turns, in the process of lifting up his revolver and to run back for the Way.
"Pay attention children …" Astryd grunts. Robere leaping was expected, the spear is angled - haft on the top of the cabinet, so when the Beast leaps, it's the point he meets with his chest.
His weight is enough to impale him on it but that's not enough for Astryd this time.
"I told you last time, Beast. When a woman says 'no' she means 'no'. It seems you haven't learned your lesson." She grabs his snapping jaws, grey eyes cold and snapping. For a moment it looks like she might break his neck.
She doesn't. She does something much, much, worse.
She wrenches his jaws open until there's a loud snap.
"Be thankful I don't defang you."
It's telling the others haven't tried to attack her but Astryd knows she's living on borrowed time. She can hear the muted sound of Ambroses footsteps retreating - the blonde follows suit, beating feet in the same direction. If she doesn't make Fenris' Way, she'll find a 'corner' and slip into the Underways.
That's one down but the other one is still out there. Ambrose can hear the howl of pain. A howl of literally unutterable pain. Astryd has broken Robere's jaw. There's more noise from the remaining beasts but then something overpowers them all.
Fenris howls. He howls loud enough to shake the building and the noise - aside from being deafening - sets anything bestial cowering.
"To me." He calls out of the fog. When Ambrose and Astryd reach him the Way is open and he ushers them in.
Their house is on the other side. Rachana and her friend are already there, chilling their nonexistent heels in the living room.
As if more hounds harried his heels, the Jackal comes running — Way be damned, there he is appearing out of the fog at a dead sprint in a billow of motion — and there he goes into the Way as if everything were absolutely under control.
On the other side, he immediately stumbles against the couch and falls onto it as if abjectly dizzied. Of course: the Ways wrecked his stomach.
"A moment," he croaks, having enough time to at least fumble the faux-Device onto the nearby coffee table before he rolls to land belly-down on the living room floor. There he lies, appearing rather comfortable but for the close-eyed, stricly-composed expression and loud gullups once or twice.
Astryd doesn't slow, just follows Fenris' howl, making sure he enters the Way before her.
When she steps into their living room, there's blood dripping from her arm - the shirt torn as if by fangs. Maybe she wasn't as quick as she should have been.
"Rachana, are you well? Ambrose, Fenris?" She checks on the other two, not noticing her arm for the moment.
"I am, sister." Odd. Astryd may well be an honorary Naga. Or maybe Rachana just finds reminding her of that amusing. The dark Naga goes over to Ambrose and watches him with concern but doesn't touch him. Her also female companion is more 'on the couch' and watching with some concern.
"I am fine, Astryd. You? I thought you killed him." A reasonable thing to think, they've not met in three hundred years.
The Old Wolf goes over to the device that Ambrose had so thoughtfully recovered and he examines it. "That's a very good replica. Very precise. It's a good thing you grabbed it, Ambrose. It would not do to have it fall into the wrong hands."
A soft groan can be heard from the base of the couch at Astryd's question. Rolling himself belly-up, Ambrose then lifts his arm straight up, all the better to indicate his current status with a thumbs-up. Er, thumbs-horizontal.
"I am…magnificent," he says in a steadier voice, the same dry tone he generally uses when uttering 'bracing'. "And I agree entirely, Fenris. It would not have done to give them an inch of success, not now, not this late in the game."
He then opens his eyes and slides them to Rachana, still in her snake form. A dimpled smile appears. "Come now, Rachana, you have seen me in far worse a state. I am quite comfortable." He even interlaces his hands behind his moonsilvered head in old habit of theatrical nonchalance.
The carpeting is fairly comfortable, after all.
"What happened…." Astryd asks the naga finding a bottle of asgardian mead and pouring liberal quantities for them all. Even Ambrose. "You got … a copy?" She missed something in the fight with Robere.
Ignoring her arm still, the Valkyr looks at Fenris. "So did I. He shouldn't have survived the pitch fork I jammed into his heart the last time. I suspect a broken jaw isn't going to slow him down." Which means she might see him again. She did just completely humilate him.
"A copy is all the museum had." Fenris points out to Astryd. "The original Antikythera mechanism sat at the bottom of the Mediterranean for over a thousand years. It's a fragile mess. Most displays are replicas based on scans. What the mortals don't know is that it's so much more than a celestial computer. It is a device for calculating and ALTERING the lengths of threads that the fates spin out by utilizing the interactions of the stars. Or at least so the ancients thought…"
Rachana frets a bit more over Ambrose and then finally looks up. "Why would they have kidnapped us to get it though?"
"Probably because they were concerned it was going to be booby trapped and they wanted someone to get it for them who was… expendable."
Rachana hisses. She does not like that thought.
"Well if he survived your cutting words I was hearing he can probably survive anything. He'll know you're here too. And he'll know that we took his prize." Which means Ambrose will be at risk too.
"I could do with some drinks. Anyone else?"
While Fenris explains the fine details of what the Antikythera could accomplish, the master-thief makes his way to his feet. Sitting up means he can use the couch's arm to level himself upright.
"«I am fine, I swear,»" he murmurs in the Harbinger's trade-tongue to Rachana. His eyes follow to Fenris and then he too glowers disapproval. Tsk. That beast has no idea what a fine weapon a Harbinger can be.
To hear of the damage dealt to the Beast? Ambrose blinks. "That creature survived a pitch fork to the heart?" echoes Ambrose, giving Astryd a shocked glance. "Good bloody lord. Yes, we had all better drink and plan to lop the damn thing's head off next time."
It's a good thing that Astryd was already getting the drinks. She hands Fenris the glass, as well Ambrose, Rachana and the other Naga.
"I didn't *know* he had survived. It's been a couple of hundred years since I saw him. But I suppose the The Maid of Gevaudan is going to ride again. You will be in danger, Ambrose. More than you are now and for that I am eternally sorry. He will be out of action for a little and I intend to call in some favours to find out what happened. Then we'll know how to deal with him."
"Now, why did he want this device?"
"Apparently. We thought he'd died, as she said." Fenris takes off the covering for the replica and gives the crank a little bit of turn. It glows a bit and starts to harmonically hum.
"This is why he wanted it. I'll let you look at that for a moment while I enjoy this drink."
As Fenris sits down and sips the markings on the device begin to pulse and blink with light. After not toooo long a time they shine and illuminate shafts of odd light criss crossing the room. Ambrose and Rachana have several between them. Rachana and Astryd have a number and several run to Fenris. By the time he is done they've had plenty of time to examine them.
"Ah, yes, that worked faster than I expected. Here. Drinks."
In some form of solidarity, the Jackal stays nearby Rachana and the other Naga. When he receives his drink, he gives Astryd a quiet word of gratitude. The sip is cautious; he knows well of the power of the mead. It rolls down his throat sweetly and blossoms in heat that radiates out to his extremities.
"Yes, well…danger is an old friend," murmurs Ambrose upon being warned. A lift of his glass to the idea: cheers. "And I doubt that I was well-seen with your sudden fog. I am not so easy to track." Or to reach once behind the seditiously warded grounds of his shared manor.
Ambrose does watch the mechanism's crank worked by the Dread Wolf with a squint. Not privy in detail to the teachings of Fate as his mate Kent was, or long-lived to see the strands in play as both Fenris and Astryd, he's outwardly dubious.
At least, until the strands of light begin to show. He shifts in place as he stares down at the several beams seeming to go through his chest, but they don't dislodge from his person. He then glances over at Rachana and blinks again. "Bloody fucking hell…?" Reaching out, the Jackal attempts to pluck at one of the strands of odd light between himself and Rachana.
"The Beast has a nose on him that rivals Fenris'." Astryd murmurs, sipping the mead and watching Fenris.
As the beams of light appear, her pale eyebrows lift.
"Oh well now, it shows the connections of Fate between … people. Is it just people, Fenris? Or does it include inanimate objects as well?" This is … bad.
"No it is people and things. If you know how to set it you can see the connections between anything and manipulate them. The Greeks like all other people were very keen on lengthening life. But it can be used for other things. More nefarious things. It can be used to pull or drive people toward things or other people. It can be used to shorten life. Or it can be… sorely abused to make a big old tangled mess. Which if I were trying to wreck fate…"
Fenris shakes his head. "There are other replicas out there that are this good. We may need to put some effort into securing them."
"We might be able to help with that." Rachana volunteers. "Ambrose can help us coordinate. And our sister here can be our strong right arm."
Fenris snorts at 'sister.'
Unable to touch the one strand of many between himself and Rachana, Ambrose tilts his head in a canine-like manner only briefly. He glances over at Fenris, bemused yet, before then over to Rachana. His lips rise in a pale imitation of his usual smug pride, but the dimpled smile is there nonetheless.
"Indeed. I know few more accomplished thieves on this green earth than my fellow Harbingers. Between us and the wonders of the modern Internet, we shall have the other replicas collected into the flock within…eh, two shakes of a lamb's tail."
A hair-color change doesn't negate the Dad Jokes, apparently, even if might evince some wisdom. The Jackal sips to it.
"Well, Sister, you may have my sword." Astryd answers. Rachana has earned the right to be called 'Sister', though that's not why the Naga calls her that.
"Anything that can be used to manipulate Fate on a such a scale can't be allowed. "For tonight though, you all need to rest."
"Sounds like you three have some heists to pull then. I'll leave you to that. Now… Astryd, what do you say if you and I get some dinner on. We have guests and it's not often we get to show off what you learned on the subcontinent."
She really is a very good cook. In the meantime… Fenris is going to get more to drink.