OwO

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

---

^{@Obscene Symphony}

There was no response.

Hollyhock had been sitting on the ground with her back against the door for some time. She knew that Jannick would probably come back and want to talk. The two of them had always begrudgingly honoured the push and pull that came with who they were. Despite her foresight, she didn't open the door. She remained sitting in silence as Jannick waited.

She didn't know what to say. That she thought Jannick would chase her like he always did? That she hated her duties and the consequences of her Scionhood? That running away on her own feet was the only thing she could trust?

...

With newfound resolution (if you could call it that), Hollyhock rose to let Jannick in.

Clack. The deadbolt was unlatched.

Click. The lock on the knob was turned.

Creak. The door crept open.

Hollyhock looked better than before. Some colour had returned to her complexion. Judging by her damp hair, it was mostly from a scalding shower. Her bloodstained attire was nowhere in sight. Instead, she was wearing a set of plush white pajamas, a plush pink robe that further made her look she was trying to scare off a bear, and plush white slippers that were two sizes too large. Jannick couldn't quite tell her expression even without her veil; she had immediately turned away to clumsily shuffle towards the dining area.

"Do you want tea or coffee?" She asked. "Though, it's that sweet instant kind. Or you could try some cofftea."

Qlippoth Shift: A Supernatural Action RP About Combating Otherworldy Anomalies

Mae Ah-ryeon

With the sudden call for her to assemble, Ah-ryeon couldn't help but have an unpleasant look on her face. It was part of her deal, but she still did not enjoy missions. She did not enjoy relying on other people, nor did she enjoy working with them. Still, it could have been worse. She could have been selected to train recruits. That would have been a nightmare.

She listened to the briefing without much fuss. Her opinion of the situation was fairly uncaring. For a shaman, the supernatural was a regular occurrence. Though, being brutally murdered was quite rare. More often than not, it was just typical possessions, strange happenings, and overall bad luck. One would need a considerable amount of bad luck to be disembowelled or have their jaw torn off by accident. Though, such things were not rare around industrial factories.

She didn't have many thoughts about the other agents roles. Of course, this was primarily because she didn't care much. Her role was focused on medical support. She'd only need to participate if things were getting dire. Ah-ryeon quite liked that role. The less she had to do, the better.

Though, Ah-reyon's favourite agent had been assigned alongside her. Even if she didn't personally like Yakumo, her ability skipping having to sit in a car for hours gave a small amount of favour. A droplet of favour in an ocean of enmity.

---

Even though she disliked her duties, she was still diligent in performing them. She had brought everything she thought she needed. Tools for her rituals, tools for her curses, her typical medical supplies, and even some talismans. It never hurt to be prepared and, even though she disliked putting in effort, still was professional enough to do what she considered the bare minimum.

The mansion was exactly what she thought it would be. It was a place of evil. Which was unfortunate which meant that, in all likelihood, there was something inside. But of what was a mystery. The words given to explain imuldan, youkai, and yaoguai were often apocryphal explanations of actual supernatural events. It was difficult to predict what was inside.

Still, she'd do her job. Briefly walking ahead of the other agents shortly after they arrived, she held her hand out and dangled a half-dozen small knotted string charms. All six had unique patterns and threads, yet were matched by an identical charm on Ah-ryeon's hip. As usual, they were meant to give the holder luck. However, they served an important purpose. If communications broke down, the identical charms that Ah-ryeon held would unwind to notify her how bad things truly were.

"Take a trinket before you go. Consider it a free service. And do try not to get vivisected by a gwisin. It requires considerable effort for me to save a life." She said in her usual brusk tone.

She wouldn't enter the manor proper unless she was needed. Considering that they were breaching on opposite sides, it was easier for her to only enter if she was needed.

SPIRITUM

Justice

Perhaps Justice was in a good mood. Instead of snipping back at him, she just gave Gerard a slight chuckle. Maybe he was calling her an Olm.

Now that she was looking at it, such a place could definitely grow on her. There wasn't much going on. In fact, it was probably more accurate to say there was nothing going on. That, however, was part of the allure. The concrete seemed nice. The dirt and dust was adequate. If the war ended in her lifetime and she got to retire, would Justice return here and embrace a simple life? The answer to would be a resounding hell no. Even her current retirement plan of being KIA was better than being stuck here.

Her meaningless thoughts continued. Really, she was lucky that this place had nothing going for it. If it was a metropolitan city, Tony would probably be off fighting the homeless for their spare change. Silje would probably be on the verge of frying herself on a neon lights. Kali would have probably followed a stray cat and gotten lost. In such a place, surely none of the Barghest squad would get up to their usual delinquent antics.

Of course, she turned towards the general store after noticing that the squad truck had gotten notably quieter.

"Two minutes." She mumbled while pinching the bridge of her nose from exasperation.

---

Justice had entered the store rather calmly. While she wanted to kick the door off its hinges and drag the rest of the Barghests out by their ears, she had the cognizance to recognize that the act of kicking open a door at this point would probably start a fight. She had eyed up the goons as she entered. They were salt of the earth type people. Also known as people that Justice did not want to deal with.

"I'm the one who has to do all of the paperwork for an 'incident.' Do not start a fight in here. Go take it outside." She quickly stated to both sides before staring at the man who had obscured his hand from view. "Or, in fact, do start shit. Just take your gun, aim it right between my eyes, and pull the trigger. It would beat me having to deal with your sheriff and our military police."

Unlike the rest of the squad, Justice did have a level of threatening aura that the others didn't. Tony, as usual, was his hick self and hicks usually invited half-drunk brawls with a smile. Silje was, on all levels but cellular age, a small child who had spilled juice on themselves. Kalina, though she had a pistol, looked like she was halfway between gunfight and office work. Meanwhile, Justice had been wearing an old tank top given to all WARDENs in training that did nothing to hide any of her scars.

It didn't help that the look in her eyes was serious about being shot.

Qlippoth Shift: A Supernatural Action RP About Combating Otherworldy Anomalies

Mae Ah-ryeon

"How's the skin tissue?" A man wearing a labcoat and gloves said.

"Still no signs of any change." A woman in similar attire replied.

"Hm. Well, ke-"

"Yea. I'll come running down to see you if anything happens." Ah-ryeon dismissed the man's request before it was stated. It was always like this. Every week, she'd have to hole up in the research wing so they could poke and prod at her patches of colourless flesh.

It was a necessary safety precaution for someone who was anomaly-touched. Of course, the fact that her colourless scars had remained unchanging all this time had reassured the researchers. Initially, they kept her in quarantine, wore hazmat suits, and poked at her with ten foot poles. Now they wore gloves and face masks--items that Ah-ryeon had disallowed them to go without.

Their research was always inconclusive. It wasn't skin, yet it was skin. It wasn't muscle, yet it was muscle. Whatever sample they took remained unchanged as if locked in time. They weren't living cells, but they behaved exactly like them. The research team often argued about how it should be treated. Should it be a child of another anomaly? Should it be its own? Was it just a byproduct from an anomaly?

Well, Ah-ryeon never really cared for their epistemology. If she got closer to her goals, then she'd deal with being observed.

Qlippoth Shift: A Supernatural Action RP About Combating Otherworldy Anomalies

Changgwi

Mae Ah-ryeon

32 | Female

| | | Appearance

On the surface, Ah-ryeon is an rough beauty. Her skin resembles that of a porcelain doll. There are no visible marks. At most times, her eye is hidden behind the brim of her beonggeoji. On the rare occasion that one meets her eye to eye, they would see a murky, nearly pitch black iris. More obviously, Ah-ryeon is missing her left arm. In its place is a metal prosthetic.

She stands at 5'10", quite tall for a woman of her nationality. She often uses this height to stare down at others. Unlike her height, her build is lithe and thin. The muscle of her youth has since withered.

If one manages to view her skin beneath her clothes, they would notice a body that should not belong to someone who is alive. Her arms, torso, and legs are all covered in massive claw-like scars. Most noticeably, there is a large bite mark on her torso as though a massive beast had decided it was no longer hungry halfway through its bite. Where one might expect a large gouge is instead replaced by a pure white skin--skin that lacks any detail.

| | | Psychological Profile:

It's difficult to trust Ah-ryeon. At times, she's misanthropic. Rather than view others by their strengths, she's more likely to view others based on their shortcomings. This misanthropy doesn't restrict her from holding a conversation. On the contrary, she's quite conversational. Unfortunately to whoever she's speaking to, she will openly share her often cruel thoughts.

It's difficult to gauge how much Ah-ryeon truly knows. She plays her cards close to her chest at all times. Only rarely will she openly share information. She is especially cautious about sharing information about herself. If asked why, she'll simply tell others that it makes no difference if they know or not.

She considers her relationship with Sefirot to be entirely transactional. For her, there is no greater good that she is fighting for; her talents can be of use to the agency and the agency can search for what she desires. If Sefirot can be of use to her, then she'll work for them for the time being.

| | | Skills:

While she has been weakened since she lost her arm and eye, Ah-ryeon is still an accomplished knife fighter. Even though she isn't capable of remarkable athletic feats, she can more than make up for it with experience and foresight. She could take most people on in a contest of knives, though she can't take on someone with a gun or a brute who can swing a heavy weapon.

Outside of combat, she's a skilled acupuncturist. She can't heal wounds, but she can use her needles to staunch bleeding and relieve pain. She can also use her needles to disrupt motor controls and paralyze muscles, but it is fairly difficult to utilize acupuncture in combat.

| | | Abilities:

Ah-ryeon describes herself as a folk practitioner. Her magic reflects this. She can perform a wide range of rituals. These rituals are not suitable for combat. Nonetheless, they are a powerful tool for an agent. She can divine the causes of misfortune, appease anomalies which may not typically be interacted with, and purify curses. In addition, she can create talismans that invite good fortune. This good fortune could be thought of as minor miracles. The exact efficacy and result of this fortune is a mystery. It could be as minor as noticing a coin on the ground, or it could be something as major as a bullet avoiding major organs. When this miracle is used, the talisman falls apart.

Of course, that only covers the positive aspects of her folk magic. Ah-ryeon is also adept at crafting curses. She can inflict weakening blights, blind senses, inflict illusory pain, or invite misfortune. Similar to her rituals, her curses require some preparation and a connection to the target. She may need an effigy to curse, or she could directly carve a curse onto her target.

| | | Equipment:

Ah-ryeon carries a large variety of equipment with her. Most notably, she carries a long silver dagger. While typically used in rituals, its strong enough to be used in combat. To supplement her rituals, she carries various trinkets and baubles that may be used: a small drum and mallet, a paper fan, a tied sheet of fabric, various papers and inks, mugwort, and other such instruments.

For more medicinal purposes, she carries a set of acupuncture needles, a large pipe, and mugwort with her.

While she does utilize a prosthetic arm, it is not of significant note. The purpose of it is to restore function, not to be utilized as a weapon for combat. As such, the only difference to an ordinary arm would be the lack of feeling and other such downsides of a prosthetic.

If she can, she also carries a pistol. After all, she isn't bold enough to try to charge at people wielding guns with her knife.

| | | Background:

Despite her refusal to speak about herself, Ah-ryeon's past is mostly public knowledge. Though, much of her past is difficult to piece together unless one looks at old Korean news articles. She was born into a family of traditional shamans. While the art had once been looked upon as frauds and charlatans by modernized society, the breaking of the veil had renewed their demand. Of course, this was demand limited to those who had the actual talent to commune with the supernatural.

This didn't mean that Ah-ryeon wasn't a fraud. Ah-ryeon was solely in it for the money. If someone wished to have a meaningless ritual to banish evil, she would play her part. If there was nothing supernatural, that simply meant she did not have to do much work. She just needed do sing a little song and do a little dance. If there was actually something to deal with? Well, she'd begrudgingly do her job. All things considered, she was quite good at it.

If Ah-ryeon's life was just rituals both fraudulent and real, then she would have never become an agent of Sefirot. No, that required a disaster. One that resulted in the death of all of her family. It was supposed to be a simple. Do a little ritual in a city with some other shamans. A little public display funded by the local taxpayers. Give a little peace of mind to the people of Namwon.

There isn't any people of Namwon to give peace of mind to anymore. What was meant to be a showy ritual had turned into bloodbath as the white tiger came with fang and claw. The shamans fought it. They weren't enough to stop it. The beast had rampaged through the city. Anyone who had seen the anomaly died. All except one: Ah-ryeon--the only one to wound it.

For that reason, she was the sole survivor. The beast had taken her eye and arm, but had left her life. It had also left one more thing with her: obsession. The beast haunted her mind and demanded her return. Years she spent tracking it. She was determined to kill it. All signs of its existence pointed to Japan. For the sake of killing the beast, she had joined Sefirot.

Qlippoth Shift: A Supernatural Action RP About Combating Otherworldy Anomalies

the gal i was working on, the closest thing to a field medic possible

if this is all fine, i should probably do a write up about the tiger that smoked her

Changgwi

Mae Ah-ryeon

32 | Female

| | | Appearance

On the surface, Ah-ryeon is an rough beauty. Her skin resembles that of a porcelain doll. There are no visible marks. At most times, her eye is hidden behind the brim of her beonggeoji. On the rare occasion that one meets her eye to eye, they would see a murky, nearly pitch black iris. More obviously, Ah-ryeon is missing her left arm. In its place is a metal prosthetic.

She stands at 5'10", quite tall for a woman of her nationality. She often uses this height to stare down at others. Unlike her height, her build is lithe and thin. The muscle of her youth has since withered.

If one manages to view her skin beneath her clothes, they would notice a body that should not belong to someone who is alive. Her arms, torso, and legs are all covered in massive claw-like scars. Most noticeably, there is a large bite mark on her torso as though a massive beast had decided it was no longer hungry halfway through its bite. Where one might expect a large gouge is instead replaced by a pure white skin--skin that lacks any detail.

| | | Psychological Profile:

It's difficult to trust Ah-ryeon. At times, she's misanthropic. Rather than view others by their strengths, she's more likely to view others based on their shortcomings. This misanthropy doesn't restrict her from holding a conversation. On the contrary, she's quite conversational. Unfortunately to whoever she's speaking to, she will openly share her often cruel thoughts.

It's difficult to gauge how much Ah-ryeon truly knows. She plays her cards close to her chest at all times. Only rarely will she openly share information. She is especially cautious about sharing information about herself. If asked why, she'll simply tell others that it makes no difference if they know or not.

She considers her relationship with Sefirot to be entirely transactional. For her, there is no greater good that she is fighting for; her talents can be of use to the agency and the agency can search for what she desires. If Sefirot can be of use to her, then she'll work for them for the time being.

| | | Skills:

While she has been weakened since she lost her arm and eye, Ah-ryeon is still an accomplished knife fighter. Even though she isn't capable of remarkable athletic feats, she can more than make up for it with experience and foresight. She could take most people on in a contest of knives, though she can't take on someone with a gun or a brute who can swing a heavy weapon.

Outside of combat, she's a skilled acupuncturist. She can't heal wounds, but she can use her needles to staunch bleeding and relieve pain. She can also use her needles to disrupt motor controls and paralyze muscles, but it is fairly difficult to utilize acupuncture in combat.

| | | Abilities:

Ah-ryeon describes herself as a folk practitioner. Her magic reflects this. She can perform a wide range of rituals. These rituals are not suitable for combat. Nonetheless, they are a powerful tool for an agent. She can divine the causes of misfortune, appease anomalies which may not typically be interacted with, and purify curses. In addition, she can create talismans that invite good fortune. This good fortune could be thought of as minor miracles. The exact efficacy and result of this fortune is a mystery. It could be as minor as noticing a coin on the ground, or it could be something as major as a bullet avoiding major organs. When this miracle is used, the talisman falls apart.

Of course, that only covers the positive aspects of her folk magic. Ah-ryeon is also adept at crafting curses. She can inflict weakening blights, blind senses, inflict illusory pain, or invite misfortune. Similar to her rituals, her curses require some preparation and a connection to the target. She may need an effigy to curse, or she could directly carve a curse onto her target.

| | | Equipment:

Ah-ryeon carries a large variety of equipment with her. Most notably, she carries a long silver dagger. While typically used in rituals, its strong enough to be used in combat. To supplement her rituals, she carries various trinkets and baubles that may be used: a small drum and mallet, a paper fan, a tied sheet of fabric, various papers and inks, mugwort, and other such instruments.

For more medicinal purposes, she carries a set of acupuncture needles, a large pipe, and mugwort with her.

While she does utilize a prosthetic arm, it is not of significant note. The purpose of it is to restore function, not to be utilized as a weapon for combat. As such, the only difference to an ordinary arm would be the lack of feeling and other such downsides of a prosthetic.

If she can, she also carries a pistol. After all, she isn't bold enough to try to charge at people wielding guns with her knife.

| | | Background:

Despite her refusal to speak about herself, Ah-ryeon's past is mostly public knowledge. Though, much of her past is difficult to piece together unless one looks at old Korean news articles. She was born into a family of traditional shamans. While the art had once been looked upon as frauds and charlatans by modernized society, the breaking of the veil had renewed their demand. Of course, this was demand limited to those who had the actual talent to commune with the supernatural.

This didn't mean that Ah-ryeon wasn't a fraud. Ah-ryeon was solely in it for the money. If someone wished to have a meaningless ritual to banish evil, she would play her part. If there was nothing supernatural, that simply meant she did not have to do much work. She just needed do sing a little song and do a little dance. If there was actually something to deal with? Well, she'd begrudgingly do her job. All things considered, she was quite good at it.

If Ah-ryeon's life was just rituals both fraudulent and real, then she would have never become an agent of Sefirot. No, that required a disaster. One that resulted in the death of all of her family. It was supposed to be a simple. Do a little ritual in a city with some other shamans. A little public display funded by the local taxpayers. Give a little peace of mind to the people of Namwon.

There isn't any people of Namwon to give peace of mind to anymore. What was meant to be a showy ritual had turned into bloodbath as the white tiger came with fang and claw. The shamans fought it. They weren't enough to stop it. The beast had rampaged through the city. Anyone who had seen the anomaly died. All except one: Ah-ryeon--the only one to wound it.

For that reason, she was the sole survivor. The beast had taken her eye and arm, but had left her life. It had also left one more thing with her: obsession. The beast haunted her mind and demanded her return. Years she spent tracking it. She was determined to kill it. All signs of its existence pointed to Japan. For the sake of killing the beast, she had joined Sefirot.

SPIRITUM

Justice

A tinge of disappointment washed over Justice as she felt Lance catch the booze. She wanted it to fly out the back of the truck. She could at least agree with what he was saying. They weren't here to have a soldier's commentary on current events. This was time for their vacation before they'd all be shipped away to war. Though, the only real difference between their vacation and their future duty was the expectation of being shot at.

Justice didn't pay too much mind to Silje's antics. She did little to stop them. It was less out of trust and more that she didn't quite care to put the Barghests on a leash. She could tell if they were about to cross a line. If Silje was about to detonate the truck's engine to leave them stranded as a funny joke, she would have stepped in. Until then, it was easier to just let the others be mildly annoyed.

As the bullet shark breached, Justice paused her woodcarving and gripped her knife tightly. For a brief moment, she had a look on her face as though she were daring the beast to try. It had rolled back into the ground by its own volition and Justice resumed the shaping of her little wooden bird.

"Meh," she said with the enthusiasm of drywall, "having a face that scares off the wildlife is useful. The worms would probably love you."

---

Justice's legs were finally able to stretch now that they reached their resting spot. It was the simple comforts in life that were pleasant. Things like being on mostly solid ground. On her way out of the truckbed, she had lobbed a can of booze at Kalina.

She didn't think much of the motel or the rest of the town. It was certainly dilapidated. In fact, she wasn't certain how many people would ever rent out a room here. Sapple Springs didn't exactly scream tourist destination. It was probably closer to a murder-based economy that relied on tourists going missing, if anything.

"One night, unless you plan to go sightseeing here. Maybe look at a few mineshafts?" She told Gerard.

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

---

^{@Obscene Symphony}

Being led was a strange feeling. Usually, Hollyhock was the one leading around Jannick. When she stumbled, Jannick would pull her so the two of them could continue to run without missing a step. If her life were a romance novel, this would be the moment where she would say that she could only hear her heartbeat as she gazed into Jannick's eyes.

However, that was not her life. Her heart was beating strong, but it was from a mixture of sprinting and fear instead of infatuation. She could very much hear the bullets fired around her; they were hard to miss. The only thing her eyes gazed at was the exit--not that she could gaze at Jannick's eyes through his helmet anyways.

From ballroom to train, the two ran without stopping. She boarded alongside Jannick without so much as a huff or disappearance. It was uncharacteristic, but expected.

Hollyhock didn't even think about counting the number of people in the train. She wasn't prepared to deal with that thought. She just looked at the ground of the train. Flecks of blood covered the bottom of her dress. The hand that had grasped Jannick's had rusty streaks of dried blood that went from palm to sleeve.

On the other hand, Jannick was coated from the brief moment that Hollyhock had left him. Splashes of blood painted his white and gold armour. It was hard for her to notice in the limited light of the torn up ballroom. Though, she still would have grabbed his hand even if she did see it. The blood had made him look like a bowling pin. Or perhaps a life buoy would have been a better comparison.

She didn't say anything about it to Jannick. Not a single one of her snarky quips. She just stared back down at the floor and tried to not think. It was easier that way. Riding in silence was enough.

When they had finally arrived, Hollyhock didn't have much to say. She followed the group as they were lead to the castle. Every so often, Hollyhock had a wayward glance at a window. The beauty was nice, but she wasn't very trusting of them for now. Crossing the barrier, at the very least, returned some semblance of safety to her.

She listened to what Duchess Bachmeier said. Her lack of injuries made most of her speech not apply.

"I need to wash up," she mutedly told Jannick. Her first words since running with Jannick were expected. Nobody would want to enter a snuggery with blood on them.

She approached a servant and asked to be lead to her room. It wasn't quite small talk as they were walking, but she was speaking with the servant about the location of her room. She paused in the middle of the hallway to look back at Jannick. A slight smile came to her face before she pointed at the roof while asking the servant a question. As the servant turned away from her, Hollyhock had immediately begun to sprint away to her assigned quarters.

SPIRITUM

Justice

Justice was busy carving a hunk of wood with a knife. She liked keeping herself busy when Kalina was at the helm. Whether it was meditations or simple things to keep her hands busy, meaningless actions kept her senses dulled. Otherwise, she would feel everything: the rattling of every loose bolt, the movement of the asphalt underneath them, and every little thing in between.

Instead, she could focus on what was directly in front of her. The grains of wood being cut and peeled away. The sounds of the fibres breaking apart. The feeling of rough cut wood as she ran her thumb across the unfinished sculpture. Though, her sensitivity was quite useful at a time like this. Even with dulled senses, Justice braced herself and her knife before the truck would dip and bounce. It helped to not launch her knife at someone across the bed as she was whittling away.

The rough-cut bird was taking shape in her hand. Why she was carving a bird was of little significance beyond utility. It was a rounded lump with a tail and beak. In other words, it was simple to carve. Justice didn't have the patience to try to carve anything more complex.

Justice could feel the bottle of whiskey sail towards and past her. The vestiges of his telekinesis lingered on its surface like condensate. She didn't try to catch it. Not because she was busy carving, abstaining from drinking, or that she disliked the taste. She just thought it would be funny if Gerard flung the bottle out of the truck for no particular reason.

Her eyebrow rose as she heard Kalina and Tony speak about the princess. It was apparent that they were soldiers first and foremost. Or headcases. Probably both.

"Firsts? She's heading to the capital. You could kidnap her with a child that understands how zipties work." She answered Kalina before blowing loose splinters of wood off of her whittled bird. "Shitting up envoys only works once. We'd go back and forth sending every diplomats' head in a basket afterwards. Plus, seems to me that the princess isn't worth shit to them. I wouldn't put it past them to stab her in the back and leave a note saying 'Rassies did this' on her corpse. Or maybe they'd stick a bomb up her dress and blow it when they go to shake hands."

She paused for a brief moment before turning to face Kalina in the rear view mirror.

"Take that literally."

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

---

^{@Obscene Symphony@Xiro Zean}

With her pursuers' path slowed, Hollyhock gave an affirming nod and a panicked thank you to Theobald. They would surely prevail with strength in numbers. After all, they were Scions and Templars. Unfortunately, there were some complications.

Justinian was off being a rock with Bianca trying to deal with that mess. Maya and Edmund were on the ceiling. Dom, Zach, and Kasper were together. Tyler was with Lucas. She had expected that Jannick would run with her; he didn't. The rest were in varying states of fighting and missing. While half of them had planned to group together with the human landmark, it was apparent that Hollyhock was the only one who had actually arrived. It turned out that the number of their strength was two. Well, closer to one. Hollyhock wasn't good in a fight.

Then came the dark heralded by a booming noise. Hollyhock didn't need to think too hard about it. Either Rosemary had been dragged out of the venue or their magic had been sealed. Considering the buzzing in her skull, it was likely the latter. It certainly was no good. The colour drained from Hollyhock's rosy cheeks. She felt as though every single cell in her body was telling her to escape.

Of course, Theobald had immediately ran off into the fray and left Hollyhock alone. That meant that their number was now zero.

If that was the case, she might as well go back to her Templar to get the hell out of there. She could work in the darkness. She just needed to let her instincts take over and the moonlight and gunfire to reach her guardian.

She charged back into the dispersing crowd. Hands reached out to grab her. They were always one step too late. The most they could grab were pinches of her dress, the fabric slipping through their fingers. The fleeing and frozen made for efficient obstacles, even if her pursuers had begun to move with more ease.

Dame Irina's entrance had filled the ballroom with light. Hollyhock had reached Jannick and was already grasping for his hand.

"Us. Roach. Now."

She didn't even need to hear Irina's commands. She was getting the hell out of there with Jannick.