ScoundrelQueen

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Eht, Aett, I don't see much difference," Maeve said, and through her thick Irish accent, there really wasn't one.

She followed the strong woman nonetheless, though, offering a lax, two-fingered solute to the two Blessed before turning her back on them all to follow. Silvarae's comment about enjoying having Maeve's hands on her was brushed off with q quick wink. "If you say so, Blondie. But I guess we're Aett mates, whatever that is. So plenty of time, if Isa doesn't decide to freeze us to the ground. Or kill us. You know," she said with the shadow of a chuckle, before pushing the door at the end of the hall open.

Which, to be fair, she did not know if everyone was behind. But the group had walked that way, and so it could be assumed that the only door left was the correct one.

"Oi, Isa!" she hollered in, noting the dark-haired woman tapping away at her computer. "Sorry about the hangup. But not that sorry. I handled it. So don't worry about that, I guess."

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Maeve did not exactly mean to jump when Silvarae's rune lit up, but she did, nonetheless. Because, honestly, she had not gotten over the constant fear of accidentally setting someone on fire.

Well, the constant fear of setting anything on fire. There was a recurrent nightmare of accidentally burning off all of her clothing, except for (whatever reason,) her ugliest pair of "that time of month" underwear, and being caught in the ring while wearing them. And then some frost giants wandered in and wanted to-

Not the problem at hand.

"Uh, yeah," she said, rolling the tension out of her shoulders from the shock. "But Bossman's right. They're probably all pissed as hell that we've bailed on training for our destiny or whatever. Like if it was destiny, we would have to train. Plothole there, mate."

She clapped a hand around Silvarae's back, now concerned that any loss of contact would send her into a coma.

Not very concerned, of course, but concerned enough that she would probably be concerned until they were around enough other people that it could be someone else's concern should the concern crop up again. She started back toward the mansion, casting one last check for Madison's package before heading up the steps.

"Wonder if they left us any muffins?"

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

I know I offered to skip, but I changed my mind <3

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

@VitoftheVoid@thewizardguy@TechnoWizROK

The Knight slipped out from underneath Orion before the grenade's heat had even dissipated, and was running back toward the active combat before he could even think to yell, "That's a really stupid idea, lady."

Not that she would have listened.

A thick, yellow cloud was forming. A crag and a wall varied the landscape. The second Knight seemed to have show up to the fight, and was spreading ice across the ground to take out the intrusive merc. In combination, it seemed that the other three parties had their hands full enough, and the injured Knight had someone to help take her home. A trained, bonafide member of the Erubescan armed forces, no less.

Which left Orion's conscience clear.

He took one more glance over his shoulder at the scene of chaos, brushed his hand against the earth and Ash, and shifted into something far less easy to spot against his surroundings. Looking like a rather large, man-shaped boulder, he took off a at brisk walk in the opposite direction of the confusion. He kept a lookout for anyone following, his thumb cautiously checking to be sure that the tungsten carbide ring was still affixed around his finger should someone pursue.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Oh. Uh. Thank you, Ma- Sir. Sorry. Sir," Maeve said, knowing full and well that she ought to be more concerned with Silavrae's apparent absence seizure than this individual's penis.

Which she was, she reminded herself as she snuck side-eyed glance toward Madison's crotch. She blinked. Back to the issue at hand.

"Um, I don't know if she, uh- I'm not really good with medical stuff and all that kind of, you know-"

Maeve tilted her head to one side at the man's request, and then took a small step back from Silvarae, still facing the woman. The ginger's eyes followed the length of her fellow Rune's body, and she shook her head. The girl was stock still, evidently frozen like the shitty cash register at work. That old piece of junk always seemed to work once someone smacked the side of it, but Maeve quickly pushed the solution from her head.

Why a touch from another Rune could fix the problem, Maeve could not guess.

But then again, she had started shooting fire out of her hands a few months ago, and had been essentially kidnapped by a group of rich weirdos. Literally nothing about any of this made sense.

"I can try?" she offered, the last word bending upwards in pitch with hesitance. Even when nothing made sense, Maeve liked to have a vague idea of where she stood. And this was way off from that.

She extended a calloused hand toward the womans's shoulder, a vague concern that Silvarae may shatter upon contact floating in the back of her mind. "Um, Blondie- Er. Zero?"

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Mitch doesn't know what she looks like, either.

But that goes for everyone.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Conference room B is not an interro-" Mitch started to say, but the disproportionate world-eater was still talking.

So Mitch watched her tablet, still tapping away with her face so close to the screen, and her magnifying aid so large, that it as doubtful that anyone could out any share of what was doing.

She missed a keystroke at the raspberry, and backspaced.

"Let me know when you're done."

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Maeve shook her head in a mix of confusion and exasperation as the woman took off yet again.

"Oi, Zero! Hey!"

Maeve started after her at soft trot, following as far as the front of the manor as she tried to wave her down. "Blondie, I'm just trying to ask if you're- Oh." From where Maeve stood, she could see that someone had cut Silvare off at the gate. One of them. Benevolent Big Brother Benefactors.

Shit.

And, honestly, fuck these people. Whoever they are.

Maeve headed down the steps, hands raised like a felon under arrest. "Sorry, sorry!" she called, her best farce of sincere apology gracing her very rarely apologetic features. "You, uh- You got us, ma'am. Sorry. It was all my idea, none of hers. She said, 'No, Byrne! That's an awful idea.' But I pushed her into it. So, uh really... All my fault. Horrid prank. She's innocent, though. Well, except for listening to me. But you know how it is, with peers and fighting and...

"It's been a long few days. Don't come down on her, would you? It's more me than anyone."

---

Mitch grimaced at the wet, slimy sensation of a tongue being pulled across her features, as well as the general slurping sounds that accompanied such an action, but she did not falter in her steps.

"I liked you better before the twenty-first century happened." She pushed the things's arm away as she spoke, and shot Clifton a thumbs up over one shoulder. She ignored most everything that the creature had said, opting treat it like the babbling of a child. It seemed to work on most creatures.

Or some.

Either way, it was not worth the time or energy to grace with a response. Her tone was not threatening as she continued, but matter-of-fact; like someone who knew where she stood and had neither threats to issue nor danger to fear. "If you ever plan to eat the world, I imagine you could handle the planet's supply of drugs with very few problems. But if it makes you feel better, we have iced tea and pop in a can."

She turned a corner back toward her office, but did not open it. No need to let it into the room with all of her own things, which Mitch generally enjoyed not having licked by strangers. Instead, she opened a door directly beside it, leading to a small conference room with a round table, a few seats, and a mini fridge. Mitch entered first, moving to sit facing toward the back wall, but not particularly facing the door. She pulled out her tablet, set up the click-on keyboard in the case, and started tapping away. "Please, have a seat. Grab yourself a drink- I can't read the cans.

"And then we can discuss why, exactly, you currently fit in this room, Madam Jörmungandr"

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Maeve's brow furrowed as Makorai handed her the cup, and she took a cautious sniff, followed by a pucker-lipped sip of the steaming hot liquid. Her tongue troughed inside her mouth as a reflex to the expected burn, but the flavor underlying the temperature could not be mistaken. Her mouth quirked into an approving grin, and she took a more considerable swig. "How did you know I took two sugars?" she replied, and nodded her agreement with his choice. "Here's to mornings, if they're all like this."

Her line of vision then followed Saika's, and her smile almost turned down into a look of admonishment.

Or, at least, a furrow-browed, lopsided-smirk followed by a one-handed shrug that could have passed for disapproval in some circles in regard to some situations. "I don't want to assume things, now, being unchivalrous or the like," she started to him alone, but perked up at his suggestion. "That's not a bad idea, you know? Do some camping, make a small fire? We could all fit in just a couple of tents if- Hey!"

Maeve didn't know a lot, but she was pretty sure you couldn't just leave meetings held by your Benevolent But Mysterious Hosts (trademark.) "Hey, Blondie! You can't just bounce on- Hold that thought, Isa. I'm gonna go- She can't do that, right?" Maeve shook her head, downed her cup, and trotted out into the hall after the woman.

"Blondie?" Her voice was softer than usual. She had not expected Zero to be shaking.

"Uh- Sorry stuff got tense with the two of you or whatever, but I think we should probably go back, soon. I'm not big into rules, but they're going to ride your ass if you just blow them off like that." She cleared her throat. "I mean. I can't twist your arm."

-----

If anyone around could read minds, the constant stream of thoughts pouring from Mitch's head would have sounded a bit like a blaring alarm bell accompanied by a never-ending, full-lunged sigh of disappointment. Not quite enough energy to be mad, just disappointed.

Maybe an expletive or nine.

She turned a corner, and she could hear the clip of CLifton's footfalls, plus one. "He's killed multiple people, and done worse to far larger beings," she greeted, her line of would-be vision directed to the bit of air directly between the both of them. I've got it from here, Mr. Clifton. Thank you so much for your help! And, if you would, save me a donut?"

The size of the thing was wrong. And the sound, too. All of it. But it was, and what was simply was.

"My name is Mitch Ingram, head security officer," she said, and extended a hand forward. "I handle most of everything here, including who soever comes in and out of these doors. And windows. I will be managing your case from here forward."

She turned about on the soles of her flat black loafers, and gestured with one hand for the guest to follow. "Or you could kill me. I can't do much about it, but somebody eventually might. Or not. It would be messy, and I advise against it, in the long-run. I don't actually know what would happen."

"Will you take tea, or coffee?"

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Maeve turned at hearing her name, and broke into an immediate lopsided smirk. "I take it you're not a fan of my work, then?" she replied with a chuckle, looking the apparent alcoholic over with renewed interest. He was good looking, if you were into the 'I ride a motorcycle and think I'm hot shit' aesthetic. The 'I don't deserve love, but I'll buy you drinks and turn on my tactless charm until you're intrigued enough to ask why' type that she had seen blow through more than once in a while.

Possibly a case of "dad didn't love me enough, so I'll hide my head in a bottle and my cock in a woman.'

She didn't know him, but his type was easy enough to guess. "I can't say I've had the pleasure of throwing you out personally, though. Makorai, was it? Kind of pleased to know there's someone from my scrap of town mussing around, though." Her tone was joking as she added to Muffin Maiden and Isa, "It's a bit like bringing your own trash on vacation, you know?"

-----

Leila Michelle Ingram had not planned on coming to the meeting. She had monitors to listen to, commands to type, and a mansion to watch. Her plan had been to wiggle a mounted camera from side to side when Clifton mentioned her, and then go back to her work. It was not so much that she wanted to avoid being around the Runes as it was that she, well... She was avoiding being around most anyone.

Catching eight twenty-somethings scattered throughout the world and making sure that they lived up to and until the point was not easy work. She was looking forward to having a slow day while her coworkers managed all of the cats in one place.

And then a window breach pinged into her earpiece. "Dammit." A cool chill ran down her spine, and she froze, only for a split second. She typed a command onto her computer, flicked open her tablet, and pulled the screen down onto it. Her glasses, thick as the bottoms of an old glass pop bottle, reflected the glare of her display as she tapped away at the touch screen. "Dammit, dammit dammit, dammit."

One more tap, and she was holding the side of her earpiece and heading for the door. "Mr. Clifton, this is Officer Ingram. Disengage the threat and redirect the topic immediately. If possible, direct her to the hall. I'm on my way."

She took off out the door of her dimly lit office, grabbing a folded cane along her way and tucking it neatly under one arm in case she should need it. The mansion had been her home long enough that she could find her way without tapping about.

And, just in case...

"I repeat, do not shoot the intruder."