On Dark Tides, Scene I

Bo, Seventeen, Spike, Chavez

"Now, now." Seventeen looked down at Bo. It was the kind of look that required centuries of aristocratic breeding to perfect, of looking down one's nose at servants. "If you absolutely insist I can electrocute the boat. Just because you're a friend of the family, you understand."

"Very well." Chavez said, smiling at Spike and at Bo. She undoubtedly had her badge with her, even at a party -- Chavez would no more go out without her badge than she would go out without her keys. "Daniel's been telling me about his training."

"Training to become a kung-fu master." Spike drawled, even while sending all sorts of panicky looks at Bo. He had enough drugs, petty thievery, and disturbing the peace in his background that talking to a cop, especially a detective, made him break out in a cold sweat.


Michael, Avery, Whim, Cedric

"Hey, Mike, where are you off to?" Whim said, closing her spells swiftly and bouncing to her feet. She followed along after Michael and wrinkled her nose at Avery. "Yes. Shirts are good things." She'd seen Avery wearing even fewer clothes on occasion, though not for the usual reason (she was grave-robbing at the time, it was a long story).

"You weren't exactly complaining about my lack of one before" Avery said, shooting a smirk Whim's way, before pulling on a T-shirt. "Of course, that was one of those situations where...well, yeah, we'll just leave it at things got odd. Or started odd and got odder. I swear when I meet people for the first time I'm usually at LEAST wearing pants."

Usually. Not always.

Bo felt his phone buzz and checked it. He sighed, but relaxed when he saw Whim and Avery moving to go with Michael. The blond, handsome werewolf was lucky he had friends. Otherwise he'd be dead by now.

Since Avery and Whim were running off, Bo decided to stay put in case Cedric got carried away or Spike fed himself to Chavez or Light-in-Darkness really did accidentally set Martin's tail on fire.

Supernatural parties should never go unsupervised.

The immortal cast a wry look at Seventeen. Sadist.

"Indeed," Bo said. "Spike is a promising student. He has been learning very well when I can get him out of bed. I've taught him to sing, too. He's become quite good at it, I'd say. It's an essential part of learning to commune with spirits in Taoist traditions."

Michael rubbed a hand over his mouth to hold back a smile. He could only imagine Maddie's reaction if he showed up with a shirtless fellow werewolf. "Yeah, that'd be helpful," he answered, nodding.

He followed Avery and Whim's banter, chuckling a little. "Alright, lets all agree Avery looks sexy without a shirt and move on," he said, to forestall that line of discussion. "I got a message from a... contact," Michael answered Whim, taking a second to settle on the word for Maddie. Friend didn't quite fit, given they'd only met once. "She wasn't very specific. Only that she needs to meet me tonight." He rattled off the time and place. "So if we want to be there, we should get a move on."

Bo, Seventeen, Spike, Chavez

Seventeen smiled unashamedly back. Yes.

"Thanks." Spike said with mixed feelings. He wasn't sure what being praised to a cop would do for his street cred, but there you had it. Not that Bo could avoid slipping a barb in with the rest of his praise.

"Singing in Taoism?" Chavez said, slipping her hands in her pockets as she talked. "I did not know that. What other sorts of things are you teaching... Spike, is it?"


Michael, Avery, Whim

Whim stuck her tongue out at Avery. She grabbed her bomber-jacket (it had been a warm fall so far, but not so warm that a girl in a miniskirt and a tank-top was going out without a coat), and then pulled on her boots. She had, one noticed, long emerald-and-black socks that matched the rest of her wardrobe.

"Anything you can tell us about the contact?" Whim waved to Bo and Cedric, and then the three of them were outside, in the crisp, autumnal air. Nearby, a crow perched upon a tree, peering down at the houseboat. Ever since their last mission, everyone paid a lot more attention to crows. Whim followed the two werewolves down the gangplank and onto the dock. "Or about what we should expect?"

"Calligraphy," Bo said brightly. "Calligraphy, Chinese language, soon I will teach him Korean. The Taoist sage knows that he must cultivate both body and mind. Spike is very good at cultivating the body, and he is learning to cultivate his mind as well. He also knows how to give an excellent acupressure massage."

"Well... she is a Pure," Michael said, glancing at Avery. He had no doubt this would be unwelcome news. "But a nice woman regardless of that. As for what she could want... I really couldn't say. We've only met the one time," he answered. "Lucy wanted me to negotiate a deal for the Temple Guard, and Maddie was the person I dealt with. She doesn't seem like any Pure I've ever met." Which wasn't that many, to be fair. But he'd heard enough, too.

Bo, Seventeen, Spike, Chavez

Chavez glanced at the sullen youth at Bo's side, and then at Bo, and then back at Spike. It didn't seem as though she completely believed Bo's words, but she wasn't rude enough to express doubt right now. Instead, she merely nodded. "Pretty soon he'll be more talented than his teacher." She smirked.

"Listen, Bo, can I have a word in private with you?" Chavez put her hands in her pockets and leaned forward, her tone serious. "You're connected with the antiquities trade, right?"


Michael, Avery, Whim

"Translate for the non-fuzzballs in the audience?" Whim shifted her jacket as she made her way quickly through the night. It was cold out, no snow but that distinct autumnal chill which got into your bones. Michael was probably the only person even close to dressed appropriately for the weather, as neither Whim's miniskirt nor Avery's t-shirt offered up more than a token resistance to the chill. "What exactly is a Pure, what are they usually like, and how's Maddie not like most of them?"

Something stirred in the hood of Whim's jacket, and Avery suddenly had the odd experience of a large, black snake staring at him out of a pretty girl's jacket. The snake flicked its tongue out once, and then slithered to coil around Whim's shoulders, huddling near her for warmth. Whim absently stroked the evil creature's arrow-shaped head with a finger as she walked.

In short order, the two werewolves and their necromancer accompaniment were at the corner of Cable Street and Gadsbury Close. It wasn't so very far away, and the cold temperature encouraged walking quickly. Cable Street was, during the working day, chock-full of cars, a major street, though at this hour of the night this part of London was all but deserted. Gadsbury Close was a small side-alley, with a few inadequate streetlights that attempted to cut through the gloom.

It began to rain.

"You know all the bad stereotypes of werewolves as flesh eating monstrosities?" Avery said, his voice taking on a tone suggesting that this particular revelation did NOT sit well with him. "That's the pure. They're fools and monsters that would rather enslave themselves to spirits in the hopes of returning to a supposed paradise instead of actually doing their job." If it were possible for his voice to hold any more venom, serpents and spiders would have a run for their money.

"She gets to talk. But she needs to talk fast, and she needs to be damn convincing." From the way his hands were moving, the unstated portion of that statement was very clearly an or i'll put a bullet in her head.

"I am indeed," Bo handed Chavez a business card. "Assistant Curator of Antiquities, British Museum. Forgive my pride. It isn't often that I get to boast about that to anyone outside the public history trade. My boss is actually Cedric's twin sister." The immortal gestured to the mildly tipsy alchemist in his living room.

"Let's retire to my study and we can talk."