The Mad God's Masque and Bellicose Ball (IC) (M)

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim was slightly shocked, and significantly disappointed - but not very surprised - to realise that they were being thrown out of the hotel. After all, they were paying for the damages - and would have been happy to do so, even before Rover's assistance rendered them quite so... obvious. Still, it wasn't as if it was entirely unexpected, and they should be on their way soon, anyway.

It still hurt, though. Just a bit.

Before she could recover her equanimity, Ray had vanished back into the hotel, taking the credit note with him. Hot on his heels, the local constabulary made themselves known, looking for the owner of the golem. She drew breath to respond, but, butting in, the golem itself had responded to the query. She waited for it to finish, then turned to the officer. "As this fine machine says, he's not mine. I suspect you'll find his 'General Tipaollo'" she paused, raising an eyebrow at the golem inquiringly, to check if she had the pronunciation correct, then went on "in the hotel over there, but as I haven't met the gentleman in question, I couldn't say for sure." She stopped for a moment. "Was there anything else I could help you with, Officer Y'mir? I have kind of a busy day ahead of me, unfortunately."

[Cogidubnus]

 "Ah..." the officer looked at Tim, then up at Rover, and shook his head. The rampant destruction around him suggested quite plainly what had just happened, but he simply started scribbling in his notebook.
"I haven't gotten any calls about giant gryphons." he said, turning his attention back to the bronze golem.

"As for you, that's great." he said, finishing what he was writing and ripping of a pink-colored piece of paper. "You can give him this."
The note was apparently sticky, and stuck to the golem's chest quite easy. "21 counts of vandalism, as far as I can tell. He needs to appear at the county courthouse within two weeks to get his court date. If he does not show, a warrant for his arrest will be issued. It would be terrible if he were to come back next year and be arrested off the train. I assure you, we have done so before." the officer gave a nonplussed look to the golem, and put his notebook back in one of the various pouches of his belt. "I'm sure such a talkative golem like you can tell him all that. Have a nice day, the three of you."

* * *

"...I'm not quite sure I follow." Ralph said, coughing. The raccoon looked around the room shiftily.

"I'm sure you quite do." LL said, yawning and showing off many very long, very sharp fangs. "There's nothing quite so refreshing as getting your hands dirty, sometimes. My word, if I didn't personally see to some things, I might go stir crazy sitting on my own hands all the time." She looked at him amusedly. The last time she'd gone out, admittedly, had been very therapeutic, but perhaps not for anyone else. It'd taken them weeks to get the stains out of the carpets, she'd heard.

"It's like that deplorable display I just saw outside." she looked at him sharply. "Your own stables collapse, and you send a clerk to take care of it?" she said. Although LL did not have eyebrows, she was still capable of raising them, and did so now. Ralph choked.
"I....what?!"

"You will be keeping them on, correct? They're very cute together. I'm certain the big one didn't mean to do it. Besides, I'm sure if you had gone yourself, you could have kept control of things..." LL grinned at him.
"You can't be serious!" Ralph said, looking around them room more and more like a cornered animal. "They destroyed a building! I could not possibly let them stay-"

"Oh, do come off it." she sniffed. "They're diplomats trying to make a good impression. The gryphons are not so poor as to stiff you for that sort of destruction." she shifted in her seat, looking down her nose at the beleaguered manager. "I was so looking forward to seeing them again next year. I'm sure they'll be here, too."

To his testament, Ralph managed a glare.

* * *

Fredrick looked through his list, and then back up at Atem. He sniffed. "There isn't anyone by the name 'Cogidubnus' staying here, sir. In addition, the Icewing family does not accept public messages. If you have business with them, I understand there is an attendant on the fifth floor that can help you."

* * *

The lemur looked up from her work, glasses perched precariously on her nose. "Um...that depends." she said, setting her pen down. "How far back are you looking? The oldest archives are kept in city hall, and it might take some time to retrieve them from storage. We have archives from the last fifty years in the room for non-circulating materials, upstairs and in the glass room to your right."

[e_voyager]

Aten nodded. "thank you. "  Aten waled towards the elevator thinking. An attendant  on the 5th floor  he thought that must be Walter whom the dragonness mentioned but whom was this Cogidubnus? was he using and alias like himself? was he staying somewhere else? perhaps the castle itself? this was quite curious. he and the dragoness seemed to be old friend yet he seemed young. oh sure he was older him myself but in dragon terms that would barely be and acquaintance. ah well he thought as the elevator came. he would ask for Walter and if he found him ask for a message be sent to the dragoness and an appointment with the matron. against someone of her age and power he'd have no change if she got angry she he'd best watch it and hope she's in a good mood.   

[Yugo]

"Thank you, but I'm not sure I want to be on a break." Esme's ears flattened to the back of her head, and she briefly reminded of all of the wounded and starving that she had left behind her. "There are too many people who need my help. I don't think I would have even come in there if it weren't for our dire need of medical supplies and food." She frowned, shaking her head sorrowfully. "Maybe the people might be more inclined to like their leaders if they would give them the things they desperately need instead of hoarding it for themselves. But I suppose it's not my place to make such judgements, although I certainly wish it was." She eyed her companion curiously. "You sound awfully cheery for somebody put in the position of driving a cart of food in the dead of winter, miles upon miles from the nearest civilization."

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Unaware that anyone was looking for her Mel had finished her breakfast then, after stopping in her room to pick up her coat to ward off any warm winds, had taken the back stairway so that she could look at the damaged stables on her way to the shopping district. She had a few hours to fill before the art review and wine tasting at the castle and remembered the many fine shops the town was known for. First a quick peek at the hotel employees agitatedly fluttering around the giant gryphon then she'd pick up a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop to accompany her on her window-shopping.

[Azlan]

The golem looked at the ticket and stopped the officer, gently, and handed the ticket back to him.

He then displayed an appropriate diplomatic identification (in some sense you could say diplomatic plates) with his unit serial number as an indicator of its uniqueness.  Carefully piling the metal bits next to the officer, the automaton hissed steam in such a way as to appear as a sigh.

"I am equipped with diplomatic immunity as is Master TiPaollo and staff.  Please issue this citation to the local consulate.  Barring any local representatives, you can locate the nearest branch and issue it there.  I am not sure the geographic locations specifically, but if either Zinvth or Toltedra are reasonably close than there will be a major consulate there.  I have been out of public circulation for four hundred years, in that time I could perform as I have and Master TiPaollo would need only contribute a large amount of gold to the local lord.  That lord would then compensate his subjects as he saw fit and retained what he desired for his own convenience.  We can also do that if you wish, as the vehicles borrowed from only belong to residents and employees."

OOC: the golem only borrowed from vehicles not known to be expensive with local territory identifications



Meanwhile...


Having thoroughly enjoyed every ounce of food, which was strangely missing any item containing bannanas thanks to Camiole and company, the cubi allowed the staff to carry the dishes away.  Once the staff had left, they considered the options for the rest of the day.

Camiole sipped on a glass of water, "if you are genuinely considering the reception, then I shall accompany you.  Jayce and Simon will remain here as is customary to prepare for the ball tonight.  Only you are on the guest list, so we will remain behind during the actual ball unless you or the host request all attendance."   

Kiet nodded as he tried to soothe his headache as he considered what to wear.  Besides, Kiet knew better than to question her plans, she was not a trained soldier and bodyguard for fun, she was the expert.

"We will also be using these communicators, decorative cuff links utilizing both a magical communication system and a conventional, tight beam, secure channel radio.  I do not leave anything for chance, and as such we still have our mindlinks as well."

 

[Cogidubnus]

 The police officer gave the golem an odd look, and with distinctly less amiability put the note back into his pocket.

"We get a lot of bigwigs in town." he said, pulling out his pen and paper again. "We're used to diplomatic immunity. I regret to inform you that, while Kiet Ti'Pallo, his family, and his administrative and technical staff do have immunity, that service staff does not. Admittedly," he continued, writing something down. "You are an interesting case. I'm no philosopher, but you seem sentient enough for me, so that rules out you being a pet. Slavery is illegal here also, so we'll go ahead and assume that you sleeping in the barn means you are service staff and not an illegally owned sentient."

"What's more, whatever immunities you have, international convention does give me the right to issue you a traffic ticket." he paused, looking the golem up and down, and started scribbling again. "And you look pretty motorized, magically or mechanically, to me."

"Twenty-one cases of hit and run, and leaving the scene of an accident. This will be forwarded to the consulate, and your immunity will be asked to be revoked so that you may stand trial. As well, you will be subject to any legal repercussions of your home country may choose to visit. If your master is a rich young noble, please inform him that his mother will find out about this if it isn't taken care of." He finished, and politely held the note out for the golem to take.

"I'll also ignore the bit about bribery, although I'm sure the mayor wouldn't be averse to the idea."

* * *

"Oh, we're not that far from the nearest civilization." he said, giving her a smile. "The castle is only about two or three miles away from the town. Other than that, though, it's all woods. And it's all filled with very dangerous things, s'all I meant."

He sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Anyway, may as well be cheery as depressed. Although I could do with it being a little warmer today, yes." he smiled. "Sorry to hear that things aren't going well, though. It is the hungry time, unless you are in a position of privilege. G'luck with the nobles - if you want my advice, appeal to their vanity. Man will give a lot to feel good about themselves."

The castle was getting closer by the moment. Esme could see people milling about in the distance, around the gates and the doors.
"Another day, another dollar." the fox said suddenly, shifting the reins and urging his horses on to greater speed. "Thanks for the company. It gets monotonous, the endless snow."

* * *

There were dragons everywhere on the fifth floor, and Atem hardly knew where to begin, although he supposed one of them could tell him who he should see first.

* * *

Mel's sneaking about revealed only one employee who seemed to be greatly disturbed by all this - the long-haired tiger from before, who seemed to be having a fit of the shakes. The others were looking outside the window with something along the lines of morbid curiosity, and a few of them were idly continuing with their jobs, utterly uninterested. The concierge seemed to be busy reading a newspaper underneath behind his copy of the hotel registry.

[e_voyager]

Aten felt a sudden headache coming on.  this was not going to be easy. perhaps it would be best to stick to the ice dragons and ask for one named Walter whom worked with the Ice wing family. he['d better change the wording a little but that should work best. Picking won he introduced himself as atem again and asked for the whereabouts of Walter."

[Gareeku]

On the way to the library, Gareeku said nothing much, either grunting somewhat or nodding his head in response to anything Rynkura said. Entering the library behind the tigress, the wolf glanced around their surroundings briefly, before watching as Rynkura approaching the library receptionist; a female Lemur.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace finished a leisurely breakfast, chasing the last mushroom around her plate with a forkful of egg, and knocked it all down with a second cup of coffee. She'd been thinking hard as she ate, right now what she needed more than anything else was information. She sauntered out into the lobby and paused there for a minute, looking around unobtrusively. Among the hotel staff busily scuttling about there was a concierge, and a clerk at the reception desk. Either would be ideal for her purpose, but... not now. Breakfast was still being served for late risers, staff and guests were hurrying through the lobby all the time. And she didn't want to make the subject of her curiosity too widely known. She'd come back later, perhaps mid-morning, when it would hopefully be quieter.

The lioness trotted upstairs to her room to pick up her jerkin, then came back down again and out onto the street. All she could do for the next couple of hours was wait, but she could shop while she waited. On the ride to the hotel yesterday the rickshaw had passed a shop that looked like a branch of Rita's House of Pointies. Maybe she could finally get some well-balanced throwing knives to replace the ones she'd... ah... lost a couple of weeks before.

[Stygian]

Eyes trembling, her almost glowing yellow irises glaring and bright with tension from within her dark sclera, the bat's face seemed to want to curl up, as if she'd smelled or tasted something awful. Curiously, Jeremiah noticed that the little golden symbol hanging from her left ear, a sort of seven-pointed star with a little red drop at its center, was jingling in its chain.
  For Elyse, the whole situation was an absolute dilemma. She'd already done the thinking, and more than realized that there was no evidence or anything much at all to go on, and that she certainly couldn't trust Jeremiah in the first place even if he were willing to cooperate or listen to her. That, and the fact that telling him her interpretation of what had just happened would make her seem even more out of her skull. And that likely she couldn't ask him anything or get much anything more useful out of him than another pair of eyes and an alternate perspective. Which, granted, was still worth something. So she couldn't just force something out of him. Even if she were developing an urge to start prying in his head, in spite of what she knew it held.
  Really, the only options she was left with was doing nothing or wandering aimlessly. She had felt clueless and without purpose before, but this time around she thought it was just ridiculous.
  Then again, there was one thing she could try. The one thing most likely to provoke some sort of response, if there were indeed something malicious and willful behind all this recent madness. And if only she could keep the damn frog around when it happened...
  'Right,' she said, bitterly. 'Next time, you will knock.' She scowled at him for a couple more seconds, before she strode across the room and against him, walking as if she expected him to vanish from her way into thin air, and failing that throw himself on the floor so she could tread over him.
  'I think I would have you escort me out. There are some things that I should acquire before I go on with this, and to do that I must go back down into town.'

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura watched the lemur librarian, ever stoic and patient as she thought of an answer to give.  When she did, the white tiger before her looked thoughtful for a moment herself; she couldn't remember exactly for how long the history of the town went.

But then, she nodded in reply.  "Fifty years ought to do...I am mainly curious about the castle that overlooks this place and the family that kept it...being a dappling historian myself," Rynkura smiled in a friendly manner, hoping that asking about the place wouldn't stem some sort of suspicion.

With a thanks to the lemur, the Healer decided to let her to her work.  Nodding to Gareeku, she turned and made for the glass room to search through the nonfiction for--who knows--a clue or two.

[Yugo]

"I suppose it's a good thing I didn't walk about in the woods," Esme chuckled, wiping her nose. The cold was starting to give her the sniffles. Esme certainly wasn't worried about her own condition during the coming winter, but her companion spoke rightly enough. Many people in Belgae would go hungry this winter, and only the aristocracy had the power to prevent. Inside, Esme prayed that they had the heart in them to do so. "That's good advice. I hope it's true, for the people's sake."

"Thank you very much for the ride, sir. I was quite glad to accompany you." A warm smile crossed her face, and, withdrawing her wallet, the angel withdrew a bill, placing it firmly in her companion's hand. "Well, even though you can't go to the ball, you should have this. I don't think I'll be needing it in the coming days as much as you will." As the woman withdrew her hand, a bold ONE HUNDRED came into view.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel made her way to the ground floor and out into the back service court. The stable mess was more impressive at ground level. As well as the shattered wood straw and grain were scattered about, the lighter particles still floating in the air. Stable hands were starting to appear to move the panicked beasts to new accommodations and a cop and a clockwork monstrosity appeared to be having an argument. Mel smiled, just a little. Hotel management would think grandmother a mere eccentric after this. With a cheery wave at the giant gryphon lying amongst the mess the dragon picked her way across the courtyard and out to the shopping district.

[Cogidubnus]

The shortish dragon gave Atem a strange look, and ashed the cigar she was smoking into a nearby potted plant. She took a drag, letting the smoke drift out slowly from her nose.
"The old man? Probably making tea or some shit." She said derisively. "Down that hall, last I saw." She pointed it out, the third of three halls ahead of Atem.
"In anticipation of your requests, as the only reason anyone walks up here and asks for Walter out of the blue is to meet with the lady, though, she isn't taking any more." She said, sucking on her cigar again. "She'll be meeting more..." she looked Atem up and down, blowing some smoke. "Ah, freely, at the ball. It is a party, I guess."

* * *

Both Andrace and Mel were heading deeper into the town, where like the rest of the town, small shops and restaurants carefully tried to cultivate the image of colorful luxury, with steep roofs and stone streets. Like many places which attracted tourists, however, the veneer of luxury was simply that – a veneer. The shops contained anything and everything one could desire in imitation, from cubic rings to synthetic furs, and everything ornate and quite useless.
Hidden amongst these were a few places that sold items of quality. The jewelers, as opposed to the novelty stores, tended to be legitimate, if only because the upper class knew their gems if nothing else. If one was careful, one could also find legitimate stores in other places – two streets away was the shop of firearms that Kiet had no long ago frequented, and a small hole in the wall that advertised itself at a purveyor of cutlery was most certainly selling things that were not, in fact, kitchen knives.

* * *

The fox tipped his hat backwards and smiled at Esme. "Oh, this is too much." He said, stuffing the bill into his pocket. "Much too much. God bless you. If you need a ride back down later, look for me." He said.

A few attendants from the castle were already approaching. The large iron doors were wide open, and Esme could see people coming in and out, and generally loitering around. The general direction tended to be inside, however, and out of the cold.

* * *

The castle walls listened amiably to Else's proclamation, and as stone is wont to do, remained silent.
The chickadee outside relighted upon the windowsill and pecked about.

[Boog]

The woman was obviously frazzled and that, coupled with the delay before her rebukement, would have tipped the servant off that something more was going on here if he wasn't furious.
Jeremiah's face traversed the "you're kidding me" spectrum in an almost staggering display of expressive dexterity, eventually settling on a tight-lipped smile that anyone who ever dealt with the service industry would recognise as 'about to gob in your food.' The frog finally exhaled through his teeth, and the smile lost a little of its edge. A little.
He wanted to waste the good wine on this?
NOW can I scag her?
"It would be my pleasure, madam." And with that, the spell was broken, and Jeremiah's face snapped back to its usual friendly grin. You could almost forget the exasperated look had been there at all, brief as it was. Like flipping a switch. If there was anything Jeremiah could do in a pinch, it was lie. And he lied well. The trick was to not half-ass it; if you gotta lie, lie BIG. "I'd be happy to show you around town. Simply allow me to fetch my coat and I'll be right along. Would you like me to meet up with you at the door or back here?"

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel quickly found Jorgie's, the coffee shop she remembered from the last time she had visited Damaske. It had changed quite a bit, gone more upscale, probably to compete with the chain coffee shops that seemed to be everywhere these days. But they were quick and cheerful and soon Mel had a local newspaper and a cup of hot chocolate. The outside patio was empty and would give her probably her only quiet alone time all day. She'd view the local headlines before wandering the local stores. As she brushed the snow off a seat she smiled at the fact that the chill weather that she found so pleasant was what gave her the patio to herself. Not many people were voluntarily outside today. That thought brought another. The dragon walked back into the shop and up to the counter. "Please deliver 20 gallons of your finest hot chocolate to the stables at the Firebloom Inn. You will know to whom it belongs when you get there."  She placed a rather large denomination coin on the counter. Enough to pay for the drink, the delivery, and a hefty tip for whoever made the delivery. "And do not skimp on the marshmallows."

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace paused in her wanderings in a small sidestreet tucked away far from the fashionable, expensive part of Damaske. A short distance away, on the other side of the street, she saw a gunsmith's shop. Ever since she'd... ah... "acquired" her pistol, she'd been on a near constant hunt for ammo and spare parts. The gun had been invaluable in many of her jobs over the last few years, but because it was custom-made, such things were usually not easy to find. She suspected its maker had made all his own ammo, but since he was rather spectacularly no longer among the living, she had to make do. She crossed the road for a closer look, and nearly missed seeing the knife shop.

It had been disappointing to find out the shop she'd seen for a moment last night wasn't a Rita's after all, it only decorated its front window in something similar to the RHoP style. This, though, was the real thing, the sort of place run by either a junk dealer or a real craftsman. And the display pieces she saw in the window — despite the "Kitchen Cutlery" sign — was far from junk. The gun shop could wait: besides, it might not be a good idea to be seen in there considering she might need her own gun for this job. Publicly visible interest in knives was safer: she couldn't imagine anyone believing she'd set out to take down a hideously powerful and dangerous Creature like Kiet TiPaollo armed only with a handful of throwing daggers. The lioness strode forward, pushed the door open, and flicked an ear at the faint ting of a bell from a back room somewhere.

[Cogidubnus]

 The librarian made a pensive expression, and played with a strand of her hair. "Well...that castle has been here longer than this town has." she said, setting a pencil down and beginning to type into her computer. "But, you're not the first person to...yes, I was afraid so." she said, frowning.
"An archaeologist, a Mr. Gerard Irisi, made special arrangements to check out all the books we had on Castle Damaske just a few months ago. Including the non-circulating books." she said, frowning. "That's almost never allowed. He hasn't returned them yet either." her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together in displeasure.

She turned back. "There may be books that relate to that Castle - um, the town's historical records may mention it in passing, but it seems we don't have anything on it specifically at the moment. We will do our best to contact Mr. Irisi in the next few days."

* * *

The barista raised an eyebrow at Mel, her expression of both surpressed horror and bewilderment, but her expression changed when she saw the coin the dragon left on the counter - an old currency of solid platinum, worth a great deal now for its metal more than anything else. She nodded.
"It'll be thirty minutes or so. We normally don't...um, deliver. But we can." she said - she appeared to be softspoken, and the feline gathered the coin up with one hand and rushed to the back.

Mel took a moment to read the paper she'd just picked up. It appeared to be a local paper - which made sense. The town was too remote to run a major newspaper, there wasn't any reliable way to get it there every day.
"Local Man finds Fae-Shaped Potato Chip!" The headline ran, along with a photo of a balding weasel holding a vaguely asymmetrical chip. "Supernatural Forces suspected!"
Underneath that, the second story seemed to be about a strange explosion in the middle of a field. Scorch marks on the ground, and nothing left but a giant hole in the snow.

* * *

Tim was waiting for the cop to give her the go-ahead to leave, but he seemed to be distracted by the golem in front of him. People who tried to be legalistic with police officers tended to get very creative charges applied to them, and Tim hoped the golem's seemingly cold-logic reasoning wouldn't attempt to point out any more flaws in the cop's arguments.

She heard something crunching the snow to her side - a white feline was walking through the snow towards her delicately, staring quite hard at Rover as she approached the smaller gryphon. Her eyes flicked to Tim.
"Um...is this..." she coughed. "I have twenty gallons of hot chocolate in a truck. I was told I would 'know who it was for' when I got here. I guess it's for him?" she said, pointing at Rover. She laughed, disbelief evident on her face.

* * *

"One moment." Andrace heard come from somewhere in the back of the shop. She heard something shuffling around in a room behind the counter, and the lioness used the time to take in her surroundings.
Dozens of kitchen knives dotted the counters, although there was not a stainless steel blade to be seen among them. Wave-patterned steel, blades that shimmered like water underneath the fluorescent lights, most of them inside of protective plastic bags, covered the shelves and walls. Plain beige wallpaper and a wooden floor made up the decor, and white metal shelves. Interspersed among the cutlery, however, were knives that were most certainly not meant for cutting tomatoes. She saw a long, thin knife glittering on the far left wall, and something that looked like two crescents criss-crossing each other on one of the shelves.
  For some reason, he seemed intent on making it look like a cutlery shop. Cutlery shops did not tend to carry exotic knives - what's more, cutlery generally was not sold by itself in a shop of it's own. She could see metal gleaming inside an open door behind the counter - a lot longer than any respectable kitchen knife contained, too.
Her eyes slid towards the shop owner emerging from the back room, wiping his hands on an apron. It was an old badger, gray mixed in with his black and white coloring, smiling amiably. He coughed before he spoke.
"How can I help you?"

[SpottedKitty]

As she waited for the shuffler to appear, Andrace looked curiously at the assortment of sharp pointy objects displayed around the shop. She'd never seen kitchen knives apparently made by a master swordsmith before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. She leaned closer towards one particularly nice example, her hands behind her back and taking care not to breathe on the blade. Andrace wasn't as much an expert as others in the Family — Cousin Larna might only have one eye, but she could tell exactly how a sword was forged at a glance — but she knew good work when she saw it. And this wasn't good, it was excellent.

She looked up at the sound of the old badger coming into the front of the shop. "G'mornin'!" she said cheerfully. "Some very pretty work y' got here. I'm lookin' f'r some balanced throwin' knives, somethin' like this if y' got any, but I'm not that partic'lar." Carefully making her movements slow and deliberate, the lioness put her right hand to her left forearm. Her forefinger claw slipped into an almost invisible slit in the sleeve of her jerkin, and she pulled out a small knife. The blade was shaped like a long, narrow leaf, about the length of her middle finger from knuckle to clawtip, and it looked razor sharp. The hilt was just a stub, only big enough for a safe finger-grip on the knife, made of a dull black wood with a roughened surface. "I... ah... lost a bunch o' these a couple weeks back, haven't found anythin' half as good yet."

[e_voyager]

Aten thanks her and though he didn't show it he feels like shuttering in his fur. even so he made   h is way towards where she said Walter would be. he wondered what she meant about the lady meeting more freely and hoped it wasn't going to end badly for him. stopping outside the door Aten politely knocked on the frame hard enough to be heard but not hard enough to shake the door. he hoped Walter would be willing to help him contact Mel as he was having second thoughts about contacting her grandmother.

[Stygian]

Stopping just outside the door, the bat frowned - scowled, actually - back at Jeremiah over her shoulder with a glowing-eyed glare that threw back every one of those emotions at him, sizzling with irritation. For a second, the air was tense with ill intent, and the frog could see her jaw muscles clenching visibly, while the rest of her held still as a statue. A dull, uncomfortable feeling seemed to develop right there and then, faint but right on the verge of becoming something tangible, almost clear enough that he could pinpoint it as a dull pain in his head. And in her mind, Elyse mirrored the feeling, though the pressure on her was from the inside. Frustration pushed on her, trying its damnedest to move the imaginary solid wall of her will and for the moment at least making it bend the slightest bit, but in the end discipline and, by a far greater amount, the knowledge that she would only have actual relief once she was done with the situation at hand won out.
   'I'll come with you,' she said at last, her voice low and tinged half with hard restraint and half with bitter resignation beneath the almost normal tone. Her face had softened, though the glare in her eyes was still there. She would have a headache. 'I'll tell you why later, if you make sure to just stay in line.'
   Turning away and looking down the corridor, ignoring Jeremiah for just a moment, she missed the slight trickle of blood coming out of the frog's nostril.

[Boog]

There was an almost palpable crackle in the air between the Bat's eyes and Jeremiah's more-obviously-artificial-than-the-flavorings-in-your-soda pleasant smile, the frog refusing to look away. It wasn't out of any sort of bravado, he just didn't make the connection between his oncoming headache and Elyse's look.
Damn, grouchy old thing isn't she?
...
What's that on my upper lip? Jeremiah swore and pinched his nose, fishing a hanky out of a pocket and pressing it to his face. "Ah... Very well den, Mahdam." He didn't spare her words too much thought, as he was significantly too preoccupied with the whole matter of his head leaking, but other listeners caught on.
She suspects something, sir.
We established that last night when she got to talking about you lot, Cab. Try to keep up.
Not that, something new. I think we missed something altogether VERY interesting before we got to her room.
Sure, fine. You remember where I left that thing of tissues? I can't seem to...
Jeremiah led onward, still dabbing at his face every so often. Come on now, today will be Good. It started with COFFEE, dammit, today should be GOOD.

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura halted in her steps mid-way to the section surrounded by glass, when she heard the librarian finally speak up in response to her choice.  The tigress glanced back, one eyebrow quirked in thought.  "Ah...brilliant then," she said in a half-mutter.  "Well, if you should get some information back from this Mr. Irisi, would you do well to let me know?  There is no hurry though, take your time.  I am staying at the large hotel down the street, and soon to be up in the Castle for that ball being held there tonight.  The name to call is Mistress Rynkura Msh'taan."

Seems too convenient to not have any information on the place at this time, at least not easily gotten, Rynkura added in thought.  The thoughtful look on her face certainly wouldn't have been lost on the librarian or Gareeku, but it was only there for a little while before she turned her attention back to the nonfiction.  "I certainly hope you find what you are looking for too, sir Manoko," the tigress said with a chuckle.  "I will not be far."

[Yugo]

"Well, alright, but don't go out of your way just for me," Esme nodded with a smile of warmth and charity as she stepped down from the carriage, casting her gaze about the castle gate. Attendants, guests, and other varieties of arrivals to Castle Damaske bustled about, generally in the direction of warmth through the gates. Following suit, she crunched through the snow, suddenly reminded of just how difficult it was to walk through the harsh winter storm as she struggled through the wind and flying snow. A mix of frustration and achievement filled her. To have come this far and not get any actual aid would be disastrous. She remembered the driver's advice and did her best to fill herself with hope. Surely they would at least donate something just to feel good about themselves. She shivered visibly as she stumbled through the massive gate, looking for somebody important to ask for further directions.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel took a moment to sip the excellent chocolate and glance over the headlines. She smiled a bit at the potato chip headline. While she doubted actual fae involvement it would be just the sort of thing that a fae would find funny. Perhaps she would mention it the next time she had one in conversation. The smaller headline was more interesting. There was one thing a resident of a dimension of snow and ice knew and it was that snow was disinclined to explode and burn. Someone had hidden something in that field. Not having a use for that tidbit of information she merely filed it away.

With her drink gone Mel wandered further down the street, window-shopping and trying to remember if there had been any interesting shops the last time she had been here.

[Cogidubnus]

 Despite what Else may have thought, the castle itself didn't seem to react at all as she walked out. The red carpeting was simply that - red carpeting, stained with some dye that didn't smell coppery, stone walls there simply to achieve a gothic effect, and mortared quite firmly in place. The staircase lead very plainly to the first floor, where the first arrivals were milling about. Tables had been set out, with bottles and glasses, and a few wheels of cheese with attendants ready to cut slices.

A few of the staff looked at her, staring for a moment before glancing away and engaging in other business. One, a badger, glanced at her with raised eyebrows, and was about to approach when he was sidelined by a lapine in a blue dress, quite obviously flushed, and asking him very loudly what particular vintage she was drinking and where she could get more.
It gave Else the chance to move towards the door to the outside. She was almost there, when her eye was attracted to something white on top of the stone archway. A note - the letters just barely large enough to make out, and formed as though hastily written with chalk.
"It's a funhouse, a madhouse, a place of magical sin
     But beware you leave nothing behind,
  For if you go out the way in came in,
     The daM doG will swallow your mind"

As though in punctuation, the same little image of a grinning dog sat happily beside the 'd', chalk-powder eyes looking directly at Else.

Something slammed into Else, knocking her over. She saw a flash of salt-and-pepper fur, and a armband with a red symbol on it before she hit the ground.

* * *

The only people outside the castle seemed to be making their way quite hurriedly into the castle - it only made sense to follow. Esme herself was a bit cold, and could do with the warmth afforded of the indoors anyway.

She chose her target as she was walking inside - a rather fat, orange-haired cat, all waistcoat and golden watchchains. He turned to the left in the first hallway, heading towards the doors to the atrium, and Esme made to follow, dodging some slack-jawed albino on her way. She meant to dodge, anyway, but something caught her foot, and sent her tumbling right into their arms.

* * *

The shopkeeper touched the knife carefully, holding it a bit close to his eyes as he examined it. He licked his teeth as he did so, and after awhile nodded.
"It's odd - I requested a dozen butcher's knives just last week, but I received exactly what you're looking for." he said, giving the lioness a blank look. "So odd, as well. Good throwing knives are rare. Why put quality steel and work into a weapon that will inevitably by lost?" he shrugged, and put the knife down. "This is as good as any I have seen."

He disappeared into the back room again, emerging moments later with a wooden box about the length of his forearm. He opened it with a pop, setting the lid to the side, and carefully produced twelve identical knives, leaf bladed and shining like the surface of the water.
"You are welcome to test the quality," he said, "But if you bleed on it, you buy it."

* * *

Nothing particularly popped out at the ice dragon that she hadn't seen before. It was mostly a tourist trap, in any case, although she had a certain inordinate fondness of the haberdasher with the gas-lamp hats on display. They had ways of keeping the felt from catching fire, but it made the sight of a portable streetlamp no less impressive.

* * *

Atem found himself shortly outside of the door the lady dragon had pointed to. Besides the passers-by coming and going, it appeared that no one else was outside of it either.

[e_voyager]

Atem knocked harder hopping he was not waking the dragon. then the thought that the dragon my be 'busy' entered his mind. he hoped this whats the case as he really need to find the wolf and Mel. Since he had no leads on the wolf the dragoness was his only hope and her grandmother his best leads on his reason for being here and his possible bloodlines.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline at the sight of the matched set of knives the old badger took out of the box. Her only other visible sign of emotion was a quiver in her tail-tip, as if a hunting — or shopping — twitch was being deliberately suppressed, with an effort.

The lioness smiled wryly. "I always write it up as a business expense," she said, "but y' right, it's a pain in th' tail. Someone ought t' do a study o' bandits fallin' off cliffs when y' stick a bunch o' pointy things in 'em. Worth th' bother t' see these beauties, though." She picked up one of the knives, hefted it in the palm of her hand, then she tossed it and caught the hilt between her thumb and forefinger. She looked closely at the blade, cautiously felt the edge and point with a fingertip, then held it up to her ear and tapped the blade with a claw, listening intently to the faint chiming ting. At each step, her look of satisfaction deepened.

Finally she tossed the knife high in the air, its spinning arc almost reaching the ceiling, and caught it again in the same grip, apparently without watching her hand or the knife. "Well, s' far, s' good," she said contentedly, "looks right, feels right, th' weight's right. An' I don't even think I'll need t' adjust th' sheaths I'm wearin'. Y' got a practice target I c'n have a go at?"

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim blinked. Hot... chocolate? She couldn't be hearing correctly. "For.. him? You're kidding, right? You know what chocolate does to psittacoids, let alone gryphons?" Tim looked at the feline, then shook her head. "I guess not. Try looking up 'theobromine poisoning' sometime. I'd appreciate it if you didn't suggest he could ingest it." Her tone went absolutely flat. "At all." She glanced back up at her huge ward. "At least you didn't mention m- uh, the 'additions', by name. He tends to get a little excited if he hears about those, and you wouldn't believe the mess he made last time..." She shuddered in memory, then shook herself, and returned her remarkably steely gaze to the delivery fur. "So, the questions I have are... who had the brazen balls to send a toxic poison to a diplomatic visitor? Under the very nose of a police officer? Was it brazen, or purely mistaken? So tell me..." She paused for a moment, then her voice cracked like a whip. "Who sent it to him? And why?"


Over her head, the giant nostrils sniffled gently. The giant head turned this way, then that, the giant eyes gently turning to cover everything in range, before centring on the delivery truck. A cheery cry of "Paint!" was followed, almost immediately, by the thump of all four paws leaving the area, and a little later, by the impressive impact they made, rejoining the ground in an almost neat ring around the truck. The slight miscalculation tearing the side panels from one fender in a scream of tortured metal was almost totally overwhelmed by the joyous cry of "MINE!"

Followed, almost simultaneously, by a small voice sighing "Oh, fuck it."