Hawke

The Sorcerer
DISCLAIMER: This RP is an adult RP, there will be some things in it that are not suitable for anyone under 18 (or 21 in some cases).
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September, it's the time of year when school is back in session and transitions from summer to fall begin, and the year 2017 is no different than any other; save the rain, which at this point has been off and on for almost ten days. As in any big city it doesn't seem to bother most but there's always one or two that have issues with this weather.

The castle that overlooks it seems inviting but is off limits to the general public, save for the tours that are conducted, the other portions of the city are as one would find in any place...though the residents are not what one would expect...just when someone thinks they know the "true" story behind the residents, they'd be shocked to find just how wrong they are. Sure there's street crime, casinos, a red light district, clubs, shops, and anything else one could think of.

One spot of interest that is often, much the owners relief, overlooked is the Arcana Cabana an occult shop run by Declan Emrys (he uses the surname Robertson as an alias) and his sister Merida Dunbroch. There's much more to the shop than meets the eye...as is there to the owners.

The Arcana Cabana sits on a corner in old town, the building looks merely like an inconspicuous town house, though the bottom is the shop itself and the upper portion is the living area that no one has seen aside from the owners.

On this rainy night, the shop is closing up and the figure leaving it is heading down to the club called the Tea Party run by man known as the Mad Hatter. The figure pulls the hood up on his jacket, to shield the rain a bit and to blend in with the bustle of people going through on their way home from work or the local college. He declines to take a cab, for fear of the wild rides, after all Mr. Toad runs that cab company in this city.

Declan doesn't look imposing as person, if one were not to look to closely at him they'd think he was but merely some bookworm, some know who he is and who his family is, the Dunbrochs are nobility, though he's not on good terms with his father due to abilities Declan possesses...and like his uncle, the famed Merlin, Declan has what his father calls "demon blood" flowing through his veins. It's not exactly accurate, but close.

He makes his way out of old town, now crossing into the part of the city that most of the nightlife happens in, it's not a terrible part of the city but there's always exceptions to all things. Declan makes his way down one of the alleyways trying to avoid the main drag and taking a short cut. Suddenly he stops dead in his tracks as he hears a scraping sound of some punk with a switchblade scraping it across the brick walls.

"Oy! What's book worm like you doin' down this way?"

"I don't see how that's your business..."

"I be makin' it me business, now if ye please 'and over all your cash and we do this nice like."

Declan turns slowly around to size up this punk, he recognizes him as one of the members of the Walrus and Carpenter gang, who in turn answer to the Mad Hatter. Clearly this loser didn't know who Declan was, as the Hatter tries to kiss Declan's ass or anyone with money for that matter.

"Go home, it's not worth it."

As Declan turns back around to walk away, the punk makes a move to attack Declan, who shakes his head as his left hand begins to glow red...before the punk can react half of him lands in front of Declan, the other half remains where he attempted to spring. The flames catch some of the garbage in the alleyway but soon fade as Declan resumes his walk to the Tea Party.

The line to get in is quite long, given it's a Friday night and classes are out for labor day weekend...this is no surprise. Declan moves to the front of the line, much to the chagrin and protests of the long line behind him. The bouncer, a huge man with a heart tattoo, a club tattoo, spade tattoo, and diamond tattoo on his arms. Coupled with the giant gold watch and the bunny ears the man is wearing, gives the impression this is not one to tangle with.

"Oy! Back o' the line mate!"

"I doubt Mr. Hatter would turn away Declan Emrys would he?"

" Old on, lemme check, but if you ain't oo you say you is, you're arse is mine savy?"

Declan said nothing and waited for the goon to check, he was soon greeted by the owner himself...insane bastard he was.

"Oh Declan! How nice to see you my boy, how are you? How's your dad? Your uncle? Please please come inside and by all means send the bill to me!"

Declan smiled and nodded, he did have manners coming up in the family he did, he had to...he could only hope now the police didn't find that smoldering mess in the alleyway. Still he had an agenda and reason for being at this club, though he could tell the Hatter wasn't keen on what he was wearing.

The former apprentice scanned the dance floor, nothing of interest here...he hated this part...socializing was difficult for him, more so due to the fact he had judgments past on him for his powers and not to mention the gossip nobles often spread. The bar it was...then. Approaching it he sat down farthest away from the regulars.

"Cranberry and vodka please, extra lime."

The bartender was dressed in red and black spades and she wasn't one for speaking to the patrons, she seemed relieved that the newcomer wasn't interested in conversation, and slid him his drink, the Hatter had alerted all his food and drink vendors if you will to Declan so he wasn't expected to be charged, but Declan slid a $10 for tip as he turned his back to the bar to get a better view of the area. He could see two balconies that seemed to lead to famed theme rooms for sex and drugs, though he knew he needed to be careful about using his powers here. Taking a drink looked around again to see if he could get a sense of what he was looking for...or who for that matter.
 
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“I said no.” A sharp and ice cold female voice came from behind the bar, the woman’s identity hidden by Mr Hatters bouncing body which was crowding, or at least attempting to crowd her against the back door with a tug of his jacket in an impatient manner. He’d intercepted her from the kitchens.

“We’re short staffed up there. Too many have been sniffing at that damn pixie dust, they’re out cold. Just need you to act lively for a couple hours eh? Old times sake. I’ll give you double.” Mr Hatter was all insistent with long jerky movements of his glove clad hands and arms.

“You said that about waitress in this forsaken place and I will not be going up there. I won’t come back down and you know it. Now move! Those tables need cleaning. Or I’ll quit. Right now.” The woman finally appeared, shoving Mr Hatter aside, ignoring his grunt of annoyance and slamming a silver tray unto the bar with whitened knuckles and an irritated gleam in her eye. The Mad Hatter threw up his hands, seeing the edges of the silver tray smolder and wilt under her heated hands was warning enough and so he walked away, mobile phone in hand and seemingly punching in numbers to find some other poor soul to hassle.

This would be the last time she listened to the foolish man into coming here for emergency shifts. One thing always led to another and she would be coerced back into an old routine of too small dresses and long nailed hands gripping her skin. With a visible shudder she marched out from behind the bar, red scoop dress fluttering around her pale legs as she stomped over to the nearest table. Her green eyes scanned the room as she cleaned off the surfaces, pushing the chairs in and pursing her red coated lips. The same old crowd milled about tonight, occasionally new blood would walk through and she would strike up a polite conversation. See what they knew or if they could guide her to the correct type of person who could help her.

Yet the only odd presence here tonight was the silent figure at the bar but she had seen Mr Hatter usher him in so that was a complete turn off. Even as her eyes met his as he looked around the room Oriana quickly turned away. She couldn’t trust anyone on good terms with that man.

In the short time she had arrived in to this town, the last three months had been one bad decision after another. Oriana wasn’t lacking in intelligence or strength, but she knew when she needed to put up and pay her damn rent. From a young age she’d known that it didn’t matter how hungry you got it was always vital to have that roof over your head. Now that things were a bit more secure, apartment deposit paid and some little savings put away she refused to be bossed around by the Mad Hatter. As soon as a new job opportunity came she would grab it with both hands and leave this club.
 
Declan's attention flickered for a moment, the interaction with Mr. Hatter and the woman with the silver tray hadn't escaped his notice but he remained silent as they had looked at each other, the tray smoldering and wilting. Mr. Hatter never did know his boundaries and sometimes it took some show of force or something similar. The only reason Mr. Hatter was falling all over Declan was due to his family and fear of his uncle. Declan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small orb, a red one, that kind of hummed as he scanned what he was looking for, still the sense of the woman the Hatter had been messing with caused him some fractured attention.

"Could you give this business card to the waitress there? You know the one Mr. Hatter was talking with."

He flipped one of his cards to the Arcana Cabana on the bar with another $10 bill. Downing the last of his drink he moved across the room with the orb glowing brighter as he approached the stairs to the balcony, the thought of going up to that den with the pixie dust, lotus eaters, and whatever else Walrus and Carpenter's drug of the month was. No he had to go to the worst part...Alice's portion of the club...calling her a madame was generous, her ladies if they could be called that were always the talk of the town and people paid good money for her ladies' services. He could only hope that Alice didn't see him...he sure did not want any part of her despite her many advances.

Even worse he hated drawing attention to himself...but outside the famed Olympus room the orb began pulsing...shaking his head he reared back and kicked the door in.

"Okay Phil...you could pick a better bloody place to meet."

In the room there was the famous satyr or goat man, named Philoctetes, who actually had a weakness for women...any women really...and food. Though he was best known for training Hercules, Philoctetes now did more in the information trade and owned the Greek restaurant The Big Olive which was one of the better ones in the city. Declan had no clue as to why Philoctetes wanted to meet specifically in this night club...

"Easy kid, this place is one of the few that doesn't have ears if you will, remember your old friend Klaus finds places like this beneath him."

"Cut to the chase please, I am not keen on loose women and I don't wish to see Alice, so the quicker you can be about this the better."

"You find an apprentice yet?"

"You get that assault charge from Starvos cleared yet?"

"Hey hey hey! He's the one that started that fight Declan not me!"

"Phil you need to really control that thing about Achilles...I get that it's sore subject...but still you nearly beat the man to death."

"Yeah well what about that mess you made in the alley coming in here?"

"Self defense. Now what is this about?"

"The book of shadows, you know of it?"

"Yes...dangerous relic that even Morgan would not touch and that's telling."

"Yeah well tomorrow night there's going to be a deal down in China town, you know over there by Mushu's Chinese restaurant, you know the one owned by Mulan. They do the fortune cookies that come true."

"I know the place."

"Well my sources tell me the trade is to take place at 2100 tomorrow, you might to insert yourself there. I know it's a crap duty...but you know what will happen should that book get into the wrong hands."

"I get it, I get it. Thanks."

Declan turned to leave Phil with his ladies...and quickly descended the stairs, no surprise to him two of the body guards one dressed black with spades and one in red with hearts, their intent was to do harm clearly...even more so they didn't know who he was. This was an advantage time to cause a scene apparently...

"Beg pardon, I need to get by."

"You broke that door, now we're going to take it out of your ass."

"I don't think you can get a door out of my ass mate, might want to try Humpty Dumpty's over on the other side of town..."

The punch that floored Declan, was enough to draw blood, but only dropped him to his knees, nice a busted lip. Slowly Declan stood up and got a blow to the gut that certainly didn't feel good either.

"Do you mind? I just had a vodka and cranberry, I really don't want to see it mess up the floor."

The spades pulled out a nasty looking 9mm hand gun, while the hearts pulled a nasty looking blade out. Certain Mr. Hatter wasn't going to intervene, Declan reached out with his left hand glowing red, and grabbed the gun melting it, before sending the spades flying with fire bolt blast, sending him crashing into the kitchen area. The hearts got the right hand glowing a pale blue, found himself frozen in place before another magical blast sent the hearts still frozen to the bar as a complimentary ice sculpture.

Declan pulled himself up and straighted out his jacket, he might have had some awkward looks coming his way, but what a way to start the weekend...though he'd noticed he'd gashed his hand on the heart's blade, looking about he grabbed the nearest tablecloth, the one from the table Oriana had been tending, and ripped part of it to make a makeshift bandage.

"Could I get a shot of brandy?"
 
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Oriana stared at the hand of the bleeding man, the card now in her clenched tight fist since it had been passed to her by the barmaid Natalya. With a stony look she went behind the bar, pouring the shot and shooting a dark glare to Natalya who shrugged with her face set in her usual look of ‘Not my business’. With fast long strides she placed the shot glass on the table in front of Declan and with utmost patience smoothed his card out with angry swipes.

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea and the wrong girl.” Oriana murmured, not wanting to cause a scene with the guy who had clearly dealt with two of the Hatters bodyguards in a rather gruesome way but neither wanting to leave the thought in the mans head that she was an Alice girl or even one of Tinkerbell's. Gods forbid if he thought she was a Bell. If that’s what he was after he had gone upstairs already hadn’t he? Her pale hand placed the card back in the pocket of his shirt, stepping away immediately and turning around to clean the table to the left side. She didn’t want to give him a chance to explain or goad her into a fight. Her message was clear. Not up for sale.

Every so often the clients of this place would think she could provide in house visits, they could avoid having to pay up to the Hatter and get a girl on a cheaper rate back on their own turf. Some of the women were stupid enough to walk home with them or turn up at their provided addresses. Then turn up half mauled or dead. Oriana was many things but she didn’t lack self-preservation. She eyed the iced figurine the stranger had created and shook her head. If only she could master her gifts in a similar way but everything she tried either melted into the ground or crumbled like pastry. It’s a good thing she only practiced on inanimate objects. Unlike this guy.

Her phone pinged, and she pulled it out of her apron, smoothing her wet fingers down her front and turning her touch screen on. The e-mail on the screen made her smile slowly. Oriana didn’t want to give her excitement away, but she had been successful in the interview line up for Mushus.

The Chinese restaurant expected to see her for a final interview tomorrow…at eight-thirty in the evening. “How am I going to be in two places at once?” She asked herself in a whisper, her heavy set brows pushing together in a frown. The Mad Hatter would pitch a fit if she didn’t turn up here but perhaps they wanted to see how she’d do around the busiest time of the night. Despite that it was an opportunity to get out of the Hatters grip so if that’s where she needed to be tomorrow then that’s where she’d go. Oriana could deal with the Mad Hatter later. Somewhat.

The pay was better and there was less of the threat of being cornered into doing sex work at Mushu's. All she had to do was stare misty eyed at customers and sound out supposed visions to the customers whilst handing out their cookies. Oriana could fake it until she made it.
 
Declan's eyes narrowed as he scanned Oriana again before turning his attention to hand again, a polite smile of thanks when he was handed the brandy, which he dumped on the nasty gash the alcohol would help clean the gash, wasn't too deep to require stitches, maybe a verbal rending from Merida but not stitches.

"Uh, miss? Could I trouble you for a towel or cloth? I don't want to rip another table cloth, I am sure it's taken out of your pay..."

Carelessness had again caused injury, but this was normal to him how many times had this happened? Seventeen counting that business with Mordu...at this point he wasn't even sure Mordu was dead, but it had been at least two years since he'd heard anything from him...he'd hoped to keep it that way. It was bad enough the police force was run by the local sheriff Montague Nottingham, a greedy and corrupt police official, who often looked the other way to the shady doings at places like Mushu's; the Tea Party; the Jolly Roger; and the Black Pearl to name a few. These were places Declan didn't go willingly unless duty called.

While the Arcana Cabana was a front and a way for Declan to make some side money, being from the Dunbroch family he came from money, and like his siblings he got an allowance which was more than he needed. Still the shop was merely a way to keep others out of his business and help those few in the city that could handle the things in there responsibly. Screening was a must there.

The dark secret was, he was like his uncle, a custodian and defender of sorts. While his uncle defended Camelot, it was Declan's duty to protect this city and train the next identified sorcerer to do the same. But given what Phil had just told him...he thought something worse may be coming about, he'd hoped it wasn't as bad as what he'd just gone through with the three musketeers, that made the local news...and the dock district still hadn't recovered.

He rung the blood out of the tablecloth piece he'd used to bandage his hand the bleeding had subsided but one could never be to careful. Still no sign of further trouble with Mr. Hatter's people, though he'd expected that the Walrus and Carpenter were observing him. The rather flamboyant Mr. March Hare was modeling his latest fashion design that he'd picked up from Cinderella's, though the brown bunny ears on the hat were a bit much in Declan's mind, here was another person Declan wanted to avoid attention from.

"Why if isn't little Declan Emrys!"

Crap.

"Hello March."

"Oh goodness sweetie what did you do to your hand?!"

"Did you see your new ice sculpture? It had much to do with it."

"I'll speak with the security about it, they should know who you are and shouldn't be doing things like this."

"You do that, in the mean time I think I've had enough excitement for one night. I left my card with one of your girls...you know the ones that aren't entertainment or whatever it is Mr. Hatter calls them..."

He'd failed to notice that Oriana had passed the card back as his attention had been drawn by the latest conversation that he didn't want to have.
 
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Oriana had picked up on the stranger’s name thanks to Mr March's rather loud exclamation and scoffed at the fact the man still was under the impression she had his card. It was hardly important enough to her to correct him. Typical male she thought to herself. They’re quick to notice you when you’re running around them hard at work, disturbing your peace, but she could throw a rejection right in their face then hey presto, sudden memory loss. It did confuse her why he had handed it to her in the first place if he was aware she wasn’t part of the entertainment brigade.

With perhaps the tenth irritated sigh of the night she stalked back to the bar, fiddling in one of the drawers underneath before pulling out the first aid kit. One of the regulars, Farquaad or how he preferred to be called Lord Farquaad had just walked in and her night suddenly got worse. She watched the pertinacious man saunter to the bar and instantly begin his usual harassment of Natalya. If there ever was a man over compensating for something, it was this one. Luckily her shift was ending soon and the scum of this place could remain behind as she walked home.

Giving Farquaad a barely disguised withering look she stalked back to Declan and dropped the kit on the table next to him, making a loud clunking noise whilst undoing the apron tie around her neck. The clock had hit midnight and she was done.

Her shift would be overtaken by Goldie, unless she was out somewhere stealing porridge again and forgot to turn up. No doubt the Mad Hatter would bring her in kicking and screaming. That woman needed therapy.

“Natalya, I’m done.” She threw the apron towards the bar and winced when it went up in smoke. “Sorry!” The unimpressed bar maid silently scooped up the burned apron from the surface, not caring that Farquaad was now yelping at the fiery material which landed half on his head, obviously used to their nightly ritual and shoved it in a trash can near the ice figurine. The nearby heat source began slowly melting Declan’s creation not that Oriana cared.

“Happens every damn time.” Oriana cursed to herself, knowing that ripped table cloths were hardly her worry. It was the aprons she wore that always got the worst of the damage and came out of her pay check but it couldn’t be helped. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own.
 
The display hadn't been lost on Declan, as he nodded a thank you for the first aid kit, he refused help in bandaging his hand. This Farquaad character seemed like quite the piece of work, this was one person that Declan never had the pleasure or displeasure of meeting and hope to keep it that way.

It struck midnight, this was not a good time to be out and about, especially with that mess left in the alleyway earlier, but if Declan didn't exit soon, Baba Yaga's goons would be out and about. He'd done that old hag a favor in getting her a mandrake root and that was more than enough for him in dealing with her mess and her enforcer Rasputin was a piece of work, though he and Declan had played poker a couple of times...still he couldn't be trusted, those eyes there was something off about that.

He shook his head, Oriana left the card...he'd hoped he didn't lump her with the other girls that worked there, by her looks he could tell she wasn't one of the Bell's or Wonderland's and she was far too pretty to be one of Maleficent's girls. He'd have to follow up on that later, there was indeed something about her that led him to think she was one of the few sorcerers or sorceresses in the city, of course he could not prove this by any means, he could only hope they'd bump into each other somewhere down the line and he could do a better explanation than his failed attempt on this night.

Sliding a $20 to Natalya, he hurried on out the door and began to make his walk home, he'd have to avoid the way he came if the cops were out there...news of his mess was sure to be out and about by now. Adjusting his jacket and pulling up his hood he took the opposite path going down Fantasia blvd, which cut through the plaza that housed the castle that overlooked the city. The night life was still milling about, mostly students it seemed.

He passed strange fellow that looked a bit shifty, he was decently dressed but seemed nervous or cocky...Declan couldn't tell, but as they bumped he noticed a bloody knife as well as the man's hands being covered in blood. A doctor or butcher? It didn't matter, this wasn't Declan's place to pry...until he heard a scream and shout of murder.

Oh boy this going to be one of those nights...

Stepping around the corner he saw what the ruckus was, there was one of Alice's girls, he didn't know her name, but she had the playing card type outfit on. Declan whipped about to stop the person he'd just bumped, but he was long gone. The girl had her throat cut left to right deep too...but it was the mutilation that drew the former apprentice's attention, the way her stomach had been gashed...it couldn't be him could it?!

Declan had no time to think further, he needed get clear his own activities this evening could draw police attention and he didn't know if anyone in the Tea Party would turn his description over to the police, he knew Nottingham was looking for a reason to bust him on something. He slipped off while the crowd and sirens suddenly gathered.

Well the plus side is the rains would wash away the blood...he needed some rest then to figure out how best to approach Mushu's without drawing attention, that book was as much a danger as that threat from a few nights ago about letting the gorgon sisters loose...

Old town was not too far, maybe about another ten minutes, away if he rushed, which is what exactly going to do. His thoughts went many different directions in the walk home, but he was relieved to get there, it was one in the morning when he finally got back to his room, one would be surprised by his room, it was one of those ultra modern types with several luxuries, he did keep it clean, but his bed hadn't been made in days and right now that was the most inviting thing. Quick change of clothes and it was off to sleep for him, he'd see if his escapades made the news or if that other murder did. He did take note to follow up on the woman he'd met this evening too, but he'd have to settle the book of shadows issue first...
 
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The Next Night

Oriana rushed out of her apartment, shutting the door behind her with a slam and racing down the steps. If she didn’t hurry, she’d barely make it for her interview slot tonight. Her hands fiddled with her clothes as she walked, adjusting the buttons of an actual ironed blouse and pulling down the fast riding pencil skirt. Her Chelsea ankle boots were familiar and comfortable since she wasn’t the type of woman to drag her feet through the mud and muck of Nottingham streets all exposed to the weather in heels.

She’d dressed with a bit more care tonight, this particular outfit being less frayed than others but at least her dark navy trench coat was fairly new. Her red hair had been scooped into a bun, showing more of her face than she was used to and although she was aware that this was just another waitress position it didn’t mean she couldn’t put in the effort for a place like Mushu’s. Anything to get out from under the thumb of the Mad Hatter. The point of tonight was to score this job and try to lead a bit more of a respectful life.

The bitter cold hit her bare legs making her shudder as she walked, and she held her handbag over her head, so the misty rain didn’t frizzle her hair after all the effort of putting in the intricate small braids. “Avoid.” She whispered to herself, back tense as she passed an alley way well known for the Beast and his Beauties, no one wanted to be pulled into that party. Finally, she passed through Old Town and eventually headed down the path which led to the brightly lit restaurant of Mushu’s.

She entered with a swallow of her throat, doing her best to look pleasant and inviting instead of the resting bitch face which most people saw back at Tea Party.

The atmosphere seemed almost falsely inviting, reeling her in to the first few steps before she’d recognized the tell-tale scent of enchantment and glamour. It was harmless but the effect of it made her nose twitch and neck itch. “Hi, I’m here for the eight-thirty interview.” She murmured to the waitress closest to the door. Many were busy already attending to demanding tables, crystal balls in hand instead of notepad and pen and eerily cloned smiles. They were all uniformed in what she would deem as peacock clothing, bright turquoises and greens, gems on and around their eyes.

Perhaps to add to the allure of fortune telling in a more of a show time scenario. Whatever, she could put on an act for the right pay herself.

Oriana was led upstairs, past the tables set with large crystal balls, scrying tools and she blinked at what at first appeared to be a statue of Shan Yu propped up against a wall but quickly realized it was the man himself frozen with his usual angry expression covering his face. Well, it was hardly surprising someone thought to cool him down. A silk curtain was pushed aside as they reached the end of the hall and she sat down with a nervous smile in an ornate cream chair, trying to retain a cool and calm exterior as she waited to be interviewed. She slid off her coat, placing it over her arm and pulled out a thin file from her handbag, smoothing the droplets of rain off her face.

There was a strange murmuring conversation coming from the room next to her, not English and not Latin. Something unfamiliar. She cocked her head but didn't get up from her chair. Her curiosity could cost her this potential job and she couldn't take a risk. That didn't mean her interest wasn't piqued however.
 
Declan's own night started off on a different route, Merida and he had spent part of the night training on their respective talents, after which she'd cut his hair as he preferred to keep it short. He'd learned as a youth that long hair could get in the way of his spellcasting and it'd cost him a couple of times. Now, he wore his hair almost military style cut very short on the sides but keeping the top longer but still cropped short enough. Merida had a talent for cutting his hair, she only ever did cut his hair...well Eleanor had insisted on cutting all her children's hair to include his. Even though Fergus tried to avoid his oldest son...

His beloved sister had a date that evening which Declan had encouraged but Merida had refused to tell her brother who it was with. He had his suspicions but said nothing he needed to stop that transaction at Mushu's and would be concerned with Merida's date later...he went to change, he needed to show off who he was this evening...something he hated on some level but knew it was needed. Changing after their work out, he looked at the mark on his left arm, something he couldn't explain and his uncle only would tell him he'd reveal it in time.

For now it was time to dress, his dark blue jeans would have to suffice, he wasn't going to wear slacks for this, even worse he had to wear shoes...he hated having his feet covered, but this was a necessity...no dingo boots tonight, instead his loafers the durable black ones. Now the part he hated, wearing a long sleeved shirt...he picked a dark green one...this would show two things, one who he was and two the shirt was recognized by any who knew the magical arts. The rains as of late required the trench coat...he did have one a dark duster one that had enchantments on it and hood to match. He wasn't sure what he was going to need tonight in terms of trinkets so he only took a few hoping not to need them.

Stepping out into the old town streets, he crossed through the puddles taking care not to splash them and to avoid the Mr. Toad's cabs racing about the city. He did take note of the news putting out something about the hideous murder the night previous...something he'd follow up on later, hopefully before more were committed, if this was who he thought it was it could get ugly and fast. He had to use caution, that bastard Pinocchio was quite the paparazzi and he certainly was merciless when it came to the well known figures in town. Declan wasn't safe from this either given the "scandal" with his family, somehow that damn wooden-head had gotten wind of his being Fergus' "bastard" son. He was sure that damn Jiminy was behind it, he was called the cricket due to his being able to get info on anyone...one of the mafia families in town, but he was a good source of information.

He slipped past Mother Goose's Fabergé eggs shop and slipped into the alley that adjoined Mushu's and The Black Pearl. Declan slipped on his gloves, best not to leave too much evidence he was here, this could get very ugly in a hurry should things go south fast. He pulled his hood over and watched the shadowy figures...he knew two of them on site: Dopey and Doc. The third one though he didn't recognize, he looked like something from Arabian nights...a peddler of sorts...he did hear the offering of something called dead sea Tupperware and a hookah that also served as one of those things that could make Julianne potatoes. There was book that showed itself...hand gesture from Declan allowed him to zoom in, it was the book of shadows...

Oh boy it was time for fireworks...taking a deep breath Declan placed a hand on the wall...the one that was Mushu's and caused an icy path to direct itself in the direction of the peddler. After that, he stood up and removed his hood.

"Okay break it up guys...I think this deal needs to end now."

Dopey fell over on his ass into the recycle bin, while Doc stood like a deer in the headlights as Declan caused a bright light to blind him. Before finally using a small trick he called "fetch" to bring the book to him...and stuffed it in the book carrier on his hip. The peddler was in shock, but as Declan knew...some of Mulan's hired muscle made an appearance, he was sure she'd not appreciate them being turned into stone or frozen or even killed, but he needed think fast in this regard...the only thing that came to mind was his fireworks spell then jumping in the window, that trick with the ice would only last so long...there was a blast of brightly colored lights that popped off like fireworks as he ascended the icy stair case. One thing he'd not counted on was Mulan's muscle opening fire...he quickly dove through the window (the one that Oriana had heard the mumbling in).

A loud crash ensued and there was Declan flat on his back, he'd felt a rib crack or break he wasn't sure, but he'd landed in the gambling area...specifically on the roulette wheel. He pulled himself up and quickly scanned for an exit. He'd heard someone in the other room, but he wasn't sure who it was.

"You, sorcerer Declan, must leave immediately. You are interrupting our interview this evening!"

"Nice to see you Ping...I was just going...actually, and I am sorry about the window...is the dining room still serving?"

"No, but since it's you the man who found my precious jade duck, we make an exception."

There was some shouting in Chinese before Declan was led to the dinning area and placed in the VIP dining table. It hurt to breath and he was glad no notice was given about the tome around his waist.
 
Her interview had been awful, the ruckus outside had caused her to twitch and loose her train of thought repeatedly. Eventually Mulan had stepped out when she heard glass shattering and she'd heard an irritated conversation with a rough voiced man. Then another loud voice, harsh and biting, ranting about a jade duck (what the cluck?) and then silence. Oriana simply sat there with a frustrated expression on her face staring at the clock. She just wanted to work in a nice, minimal hassle, decent paying place. Yet despite coming from the Tea Party to Mushu's there was still an element of chaos.

Mulan, the owner was nice enough and understanding that Oriana hadn't been able to give her best considering the disturbances. So, she agreed to testing Oriana's skills in the practical sense tonight before deciding on fully employing her outright. Although Oriana was pleased with the woman's agreement, she could sense there was something about her. No one in this place was completely innocent or free from the criminal activity in these parts. Everyone was making the extra money on top, on the side and under the table too. She would have to remain careful of Mulan too. No doubt she’d find out very soon what the score was here.

Oriana wasn't too overtly concerned though. She'd truly only had one issue working for the Mad Hatter so after making sure that she would not be expected to service any of the clients on a personal level she was relieved when she was handed a shimmering turquoise dress for a uniform and told to get to work. The main diner would be her area and that usually only required greeting the clients in Chinese, serving food and making up some fake visions to pander to the whole Fortune Cookie vibe. The girls here were apparently encouraged to lay it on thick.

“Please universe. Just let me get through tonight without any more problems. No more pernicious grabbing hands. That's all I want. At least until I get a job elsewhere this will do. Maybe I could work at the Spa? I'm not really sure how to pamper myself never mind others but-“ Her internal thoughts were interrupted as Mulan insisted Oriana changed in the same room she had been interviewed in.

Mulan stepping out politely to give her the space and eventually Oriana joined the petite woman, leaving her material belongings in that room and trying not to gawp at the decorations and artifacts on the walls as they headed back downstairs. She'd noticed some of the items walking in but had been distracted by her own nerves, now she took in the ancient blades adorning the tops of the doorways and shields with cryptic messages in too tiny writing to understand with eyebrows high. Anyone could pick these up and start hurling them at each other. These blades were sharp and glinting under the lights. They could cause some serious damage.

"Do you see that man there. That’s the VIP table. Your first client. If he leaves a good tip, you can come back tomorrow." Mulan’s voice left no room for argument, for some reason there was a touch of amusement in her voice too but Oriana nodded pretending not to notice, adjusting the hemline of her dress and luckily, she'd been allowed to keep on her Chelsea boots with the indication she bring some silver coloured heels in tomorrow. They sure liked to look glamorous in this place.

Oriana looked at the other waitresses busying themselves about and followed their lead. Picking up a notepad, pen, menu, a feathery apron and medium sized red crystal she strolled over to the man in the trench coat. There was something familiar about him and she tried not to let her inquisitiveness show. “Nǐ hǎo! Good evening, welcome to Mushu’s sir. What can I get you?” She asked in her politest voice possible, which was a feat considering the clients at Tea Party barely got a smile off her unless it was forced. She twirled the crystal in her hand for show, something a tad different than the other waitresses and then rolled it on the table in front of him as if it was a dreidel.

Unfortunately, Oriana could feel the glances of the other waitresses on her, mildly judgmental and of course no doubt Mulan was observing her for any mistakes. The feeling noticeably made her shuffle uneasily and the crystal spun out of her hands for a few alarming seconds, burning a hole in the table in front of her and then jumping back to her hand. She closed her eyes in self-despair, why didn’t she just hold the damn rock as just a show piece like the other girls? Why did she forget that she was cursed to make an idiot of herself no matter where she went?

“S-sorry, forget my own strength sometimes.” She added sheepishly to the man, not looking at his face and sneakily moving one of the table decorations to cover the burn mark. No doubt, she wouldn't be walking away with any approval from him and neither would she be invited to work here tomorrow. Lovely, just fantastic.
 
Declan shifted, yep the rib was cracked for sure, his breathing was labored enough that one could tell he was hurting, still he removed his gloves, trying to look as normal as he could, but he forgotten that he was wearing two rings...his dragon one that would glow a deep green from the eye, and one that was an old keepsake ring given to him when he was training under his uncle, it was simplistic Celtic knots with the famed trinity look, though there was a deep red stone that would also glow...he could no longer recall what the purpose of that one was...neverously he moved the tome around his waist from out of Oriana's view, the last thing he needed was the wrong impression being given about why he was there.

He'd studied the menu, and well there were a few things he would be after, but since it was just him...no need to make a pig of himself...he already probably stood out more than he intended after all, but it was then two things caught his attention. One being he recognized Oriana from the previous night, she probably aside from his rings would notice the bandage on his hand sure he changed it but the wound was still there.

The second was the crystal and what she did with it, his own eyes began to glow with an orange hue, this was a way he detected magic and to see if it was hostile or not. No clearly Oriana didn't have control of her abilities or maybe didn't know of them, he had no way of knowing nor was he going to be impolite and inquire, instead he'd play the role of the paying customer and see if he piqued her interests. The table decoration moved to cover the burn mark.

"Evening my lady, I am going to start with the spring rolls, hot and sour soup. For the main course the spicy Peking duck and Mongolian beef."

His accent was unmistakably Highlands Scottish, though he refined it enough to be understood, his uncle Merlin had more a Welsh-Scottish accent, or that border accent as the English called it. The Dunbroch family's accent was a noble one, it sounded more like it was from the Perth or Aberdeen region of Scotland, it wasn't far off either, as they were from Perth. Declan though had been raised in the Inner Hebrides and Orkney, most of those who knew the arts were trained there, but Merlin had chosen those spots for a reason.

Damn rings wouldn't stop glowing, he no idea why they were doing so, the dragon one usually didn't do this...not the time to figure it out now. He needed to be a gentleman that he could be here...Mulan owed him a bit after all...he did save her husband's life, not to mention what he'd helped Ping with.

"Oh and uh...I am going to with water and hot tea, oolong if it's available."

He tried not to laugh, he remembered some of the boneheaded things he'd done as the apprentice, some doosys that didn't make the papers or the public for that matter. Still something told him she was new to this place...why would someone work two jobs?

"Miss? I think we met the other night...I've not seen you here before, but if anyone asks you about that part of the table, I did it, and I'll get it mended."
 
It was his voice. Oriana's eyes narrowed at him, taking in his appearance with keener observation and instantly stiffening where she stood. Great, it's the bozo from last night and his flashy business card. Why couldn't he just stick to the Tea Party? Her irritated thoughts must have been visible on her face because there was a soft cough behind her. She bit her lip, and nodded taking down his order with a clearly forced smile but it quickly slipped at his offer.

She had ignored the orange hue of his eyes, the flashing rings since she was used to men showing off their parlour tricks as if that would somehow drive the women around them insane with the desire to bed them. Yet this wasn't something she could ignore. Did he mean to buy her interest now? "I'm sorry sir, I don't take favours from strangers or customers." She touched the table piece , moving it back to the side and revealing the burn mark again. She'd just have to pay it out her wages if she got hired. "Thank you for your order sir, would you like your fortune told today?"

There was that very small twitch as well, at the corner of his mouth. Did he find her predicament funny? It reminded her just a bit of Lancelot, slimy bastard that he was. It was his fault that she was in this mess in the first place. How she could have been so naive was beyond her. This guy didn't necessarily give her the same vibe, in fact she was attempting to not show her interest and put it down to circus tricks for what she had seen so far but she hadn't forgotten her goal.

Oriana would find someone to help her understand her so called gifts but she'd do it on her terms without being taken advantage of again. She shook herself out of her reverie and raised one eyebrow at him inquisitively, if he didn't have a desire to have some hogwash words thrown at him in lieu of a fortune cookie then she'd go place his order in. "Sir?"
 
Declan's mind was fragmented into several directions, he was sure the commotion he'd caused outside coupled with the Chinese swearing going on behind him, meant his stay would need to be shorter than he originally planned. Still he was at the VIP table so that could allow him a moment to figure out how to avoid the other 5 dwarves of Mayor White's muscle. Then there was the part focused on Oriana, not trying to be a sleaze ball, but also not trying to be that stuck up nobility he was born into, he was trying to find a happy medium and just be as polite as his uncle had taught him, given the circumstances it was difficult.

"No thank you, the fortune can wait till the end."

Stranger? Well he figured maybe he did seem strange showing up twice where she was, but he could only hope she wasn't getting the wrong impression...that and he still had no idea why his rings were glowing...this was beyond his understanding, enchantment was not his specialty there were others that were much better on that particular skill. No where Declan excelled with his magical arts, was something very few save Merlin himself, could do which was mastery of evocation...this was seen as destructive magic, when one could master the elements to their will. Illusion was the only other portion of the arts he had mastered, but he only used it when he was in dire need.

"I understand your reservation on accepting my help, but like you I lacked control once...and I merely didn't want you to get in trouble over something minor like that, you know some people get all bent out of shape when that sort of thing happens."

What Declan wasn't aware of was down in the docks district another murder was taking place, done in the same style as the previous one, though this one was left more in open, almost as if the killer wanted the police to find the body. The worst part was, it was in his direct path home, still he needed some time to rest his cracked rib and at least eat something. Use of magic could be taxing in some ways, but if he tapped into the other magic, the one his mark on his arm brought forth...well that could get ugly. Hopefully he'd not have to use that any time soon, the last time had he'd leveled the red light district, and it was only just now recovering.

For now he reached into his pocket and pulled out a book and a pair of glasses, he didn't need them per say, but it was part of the illusions he did, he always tried to lull potential enemies or hostiles into a false sense of him being a pushover. Though this time he was trying to portray himself as a bookworm or a history professor or something like that. Mulan didn't even know exactly what Declan did, but she knew his uncle, and what Declan had done to help her. That was enough, she didn't want to mess with that much sorcery.

"Could I trouble you for an icepack?"
 
Had she got the wrong idea? Oriana bit her lip and walked away, after asking for a few directions she found the kitchen in the back and picked up a bag of ice cubes from the large freezer. The cooking team here were almost robotic, concise but that didn't faze her. It meant that she could just place the order slip on the counter and wait for that mans starter to be prepared. She would grab his drinks as she went back in. The team didn't even glance at her as she looked around and she tried not to flinch as one of the white uniformed chefs twirled a rather large knife in his hand to cut up a tiny piece of carrot. Strange...

The one thing he was right about, she was struggling to remember his name from last night....Dean? No that wasn't it...either way, overtly friendly guy - was right about people not liking those with her talents. Usually because they spelled misfortune and ruin. Like he had caused issues at the Tea Party last night.

Yet after seeing the staff staring at the VIP table with either looks of amusement or fear, she figured he was someone significant in these parts. Now if he had answers for her she would be interested in bearing with his assistance. She decided impulsively that she would pop the questions and hope that Mulan thought she was merely being friendly with a VIP customer if she hovered over his table too long.

The plate being almost thrown on to her tray made her jump and she eyed the contents with a mental checklist. Everything was on there albeit a little wonky in presentation. Perhaps...Declan? Yes that was it! Perhaps, Declan wasn't liked well in this area as she had initially thought. But was that a bad thing considering the people residing here? Oriana placed the icepack on the tray.

On her way back to him she collected a jar of water, clean glass and a pot of the oolong tea with a comically small tea cup. She balanced it all carefully on the tray, glad for its large size and despite an attempt made by one of the waitresses to trip her up, which she avoided with a skip over the garish red heel in her way, she managed not to drop anything.

Instead the girls sequinned skirt suddenly caught fire. Oriana pretended not to notice and strode over to the VIP table with a barely disguised guilty look.

"Do you want to...help out with that issue instead by any chance?" She asked, setting the tray down and looking over her shoulder with a flinch. Oops?

Ping had gotten involved and was glaring at her darkly whilst using a fire extinguisher on the waitress in question. Not that she knew who he was but he looked like someone of authority.

Looks like I might have to apply at that Spa after all...Oriana thought in dismay.
 
Declan's rings were still bugging him so he did the reasonable thing, removed them and stuffed them in his coat pockets. The dragon one would have to be worn again later, that damn ring always needed to be worn, he didn't at the Tea Party the other night, as he was trying to avoid too much attention, but that worked out quite the opposite of what he intended, he was left to wonder if they still had their new ice sculpture on display, but only for a moment.

Mulan was eager to get Declan on his way, sure she owed him, but his presence could be bad for business and that was not what she wanted. She wasn't too sure which one she feared more, Declan or Merlin, they both were quite unpredictable, but the difference was Merlin was in control, Declan was not so much, especially if angered. Still the flames on the waitress didn't escape his own notice, in his mind it was deserved.

When Oriana returned, the question was posed that caught him off guard, he wasn't expecting that reaction at all, but did his best to hide it. He looked up from the book was pretending to read, again he was just trying to play off the botched deal from before. Sending a message to Ping that he knew what was going down and that once again he foiled it due to the nature of the item in question.

"Well, I can only help you if you want the help, I can't force you by any means my lady. But if you'll forgive me for saying it, you do look in need of some form of help."

He had to laugh to himself at the food, it was hurried to get him out of here, but done well so he didn't do what he did the last few times he came in. Visions of his best Gordon Ramsay impression probably still wore on the staff a bit. But he knew full well they were pissed that they were called on to cook when the kitchen had closed, still it was little amusing.

He closed the book and returned it to his coat pocket, the damn dragon ring once again appeared on his finger...damn thing. He swore it had a mind of it's own and was doing this this get either his or Oriana's full attention.

The thing with these rings, specifically the ones his uncle and he had were relics from the days of Camelot, obviously it was before Declan was born, but the one he wore was given to him by Merlin, the dragon itself symbolizing the old Celtic myth about Arthur...where was Arthur anyways? He couldn't recall. He knew where his uncle was, he'd need to speak with him later...but now for the task at had.

Declan raised a hand in the direction of Ping as if to throw a spell, to which Ping cringed, they hated it when certain hand gestures were made. Sure they had their own mystics, but not on the level to Declan.

"Excuse the ring Miss? It seems to have a mind of it's own."
 
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My lady? Miss? What is this? The Times of Merlin? Oriana glanced at the ring and blinked. Did it just twinkle at her? She had to look away because that strange pull simply had to be in her mind. She was stressed, that's all. "I-you...yeah no worries." She looked back at Ping and suddenly Mulan was there too. Until Declan had waved his hand they'd been unable to stop the fire, and after a few cross changes of words the woman stepped up to the VIP table.

"Miss Mikhailova I'm afraid your services are not required as we can see there will be multiple issues around health and safety." The tone was pleasant enough, the accent more prevalent with the confidence as she spoke but yet her eyes remained averted from Declan.

Fantastic. Oriana let out an annoyed sigh but nodded, there was no point pointing fingers and explaining the childish behavior of the other woman. They'd been there longer. She simply took off her apron, handing it to Mulan and headed back upstairs to the interview room she'd not long been in. She hadn't lasted longer than an hour. What if she applied to the spa and accidentally hurt a client there? Scalded someones face instead of pampering them? The famed Jasmine she was not.

That guy...if he just teaches you how to stop and start these fires then at least that's one thing off your list of worries. What will he ask in return though? Oriana couldn't keep the frown off her face as she changed back into the clothes she'd come in, tossing the silly uniform over the desk and slipping her trench coat back on.

Something caught her eye however, a slip of paper on the floor as she was leaving. She knelt down and picked it up, her intention was just to pop it back on the desk but she froze. It was a drawing and it was one of Rapunzel. Sweet, long haired, mad for criminal boys, barmy Rapunzel who hated her very existence. She tucked it quickly in her coat pocket and looked around the room, it seemed to be bare and there was nothing else that stood out to her as odd. Why did Mulan have a picture of her sister in her office? Well she said sister...it was a unconventional relationship.

Not finding her answers she left the room, heading back downstairs where she was greeted with another surly glare by Ping which she promptly ignored. "I'm still taking something for my work even if it was just for one hour." She told him with a grimace and grabbed one of the heavier crystals, twirling it in her hands.
 
The poker face Declan had put on for Mulan and company was still there, the exchange bothered him a bit, however he was relieved a bit to see that Oriana was not going to be working in this place. Ill repute and all, he knew some of the so called dragon ladies in here, and that happy ending stuff was as he heard it in a way to believe it, the reason some of the odd balls from The Black Pearl kept coming in, that Barbossa fellow was particularly strange in the sense of his fetish with apples...still he saw Oriana leaving and wanting to follow up with her, knowing he might not get another chance, asked for a doggie bag.

Mulan was quick, perhaps too quick to oblige, Declan plopped $100 to include tip down and not wishing to use any tricks, followed slowly behind Oriana, giving her a chance to change. He didn't want to sneak up on her as he knew he didn't make much noise when he walked, but when barefoot, he made no noise.

Going with his gut, he slipped downstairs, trailing just enough so to give her the aforementioned time to change her clothes, he hated the way the girls dressed in this place, it was so damn fake. But those knuckleheads like the show he guessed, at least Alice's girls would do anything one asked, so much so that Lancelot had DVD's made with Alice's girls...for a price and Alice getting a cut of that. Perversions of some of these people aside Declan hoped the the ring would not give him away.

While Oriana was talking to Ping, Declan stepped out from behind one of the massive Chinese "ancestor" statues, he could be forceful when the need arose, though he rarely ever was that forceful. He stood with his arms folded as if to hold a stare down, and just to mess with Ping, who was terrified of magic and those who knew the art, he gestured with his hand slightly as if send a message, to say let her take the crystal or I am going turn you in to that prized jade duck of yours.

"I think Ping you're going to let Miss Mikhailova, have that crystal and an hour's worth of pay. I'm not certain what game your mistress is playing at upstairs, but that tripping trick wasn't called for."

One of Mulan's girls froze at the sight of Declan bringing his hand in what she'd hoped wasn't a spell casting gesture, she'd only come to bring him his now carry out bag. Of course the sorcerer was not interested in creating a serious Chinese fire drill (one where the fireworks explode and cause all kinds of havoc), though he was capable of doing so as he'd done in the alley way.
 
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The telltale wet spot Ping suddenly had down his trousers made Oriana step back in surprise only to let out a string of curses when she nearly plowed into Declan. "Where did you come from?!" She exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Hadn't she left him at the VIP table? Had he been behind her the whole time? She glanced at Mulan a few steps away and raised her eyebrows, "Health and safety huh...no one concerned about Hygiene?" She looked back at Ping only to find him shuffling away like a crab edging to the nearest toilets. It was difficult not to crack a small smile at that sight.

Th staff bustled about to grab some bleach and a mop for the tiled floor and Oriana shook her head when Mulan came over to her with a small wad of notes with this time a droll look at Declan as she handed over the money. "Seriously, you only offer it after a guy tells you to? It wasn't something to consider before he said it?" She was tired of this place already, perhaps it had been best she hadn't been hired. The over pretentious environment would have surely killed her spirit day by day. Strangely, despite her sarcastic comments she wasn't getting any rebuttals, Oriana wasn't completely air-headed not to realize it was because of the guy still standing behind her and she looked back at Declan with an inquisitive look. It was as if to say to him, who are you?

"I-I'll be off then..." She took the money and pocketed the crystal passing one of the waitresses with Declans doggy bag and rushed outside. She had a feeling that Declan would follow her so there was no point rushing home, it was safer to address whatever his reasons were here where she at least was in public. The last thing she wanted was for him to know where she lived. The paranoid part of her mind wondered whether he had in fact followed her here tonight or was she giving herself too much self importance? The same trail of thought had happened when she had met Lancelot and the foolish part of her had given him the benefit of doubt just as she was doing for Declan at the moment...but Lancelot had simply been charming initially. Declan seemed to have control over whatever gifts he possessed perhaps enough to point her in the right direction at the very least to curb hers.

Oriana quickly put the wad of money into her handbag since it didn't help that she was still distracted by the drawing burning a hole in her pocket. Her small earnings from tonight didn't deserve to be turned into ashes.

She would write to Rapunzel and ask her how she was, warn her to be careful of anyone related to Mulan or the people in this town and hope she didn't ignore her correspondence like last time. And the twenty other times Oriana had made an attempt to reconcile.
 
Declan's own reaction didn't betray anything other than the serious stand off that went on before him. To him it was idiotic that they wouldn't even consider payment and that they deliberately sabotaged this evening. Oriana almost bumping into him almost drew a smile, the answer was simple, but he didn't at that moment, he wanted to make sure that Mulan didn't try and pull some other crap and he wanted to send the message he meant business, by playing on their fear of him.

Before grabbing his doggie bag, he checked is person for the book of shadows, it was still in place...good. No more games, they were going to let Oriana walk out without trouble, and he'd make sure to follow to ensure no trouble was going to follow. He wasn't interested in where she lived, there are some things that just don't need to be known, but maybe now she'd be keen to talk. This wasn't a damsel in distress thing that Phil would often talk on and on about, no, it was about Mulan's group being stingy.

Manners always were important, he was very polite about taking his doggie bag and again showed nothing but courtesy when he walked out to follow Oriana. He only stated one thing.

"I suggest you use more caution in the dealings...I'll let the gambling slide, but keep your dragon ladies off the streets for at least two weeks, I don't want to be back in here under these circumstances, I'd rather just have dinner like a normal person. Got it?"

No need for a display of what would happen if he came back in here, he hoped his message got through loud and clear, besides if they had a complaint, they could take it up with his uncle, that would be funny to see how he'd handle that sort of thing! Sure Mulan was giving him the evil eye, but he could do that too and his could glow, so the look he gave Mulan put her on notice...Ping refused to come out until Declan had left.

Politely he nodded and followed Oriana out the door, not sure how to approach her, he wasn't going to press her in anyway, but at least try and explain a bit of what just took place. This was difficult for him as most feared him and those that didn't always asked about his family due to them being nobility. It was just sometimes too much...Merida did what she could to ease it, but she knew her older brother was stuck in a spot that wasn't easy to live with, she always said you cannot change your fate...the will o' wisps had made that clear.

Trying hard not to "sneak up" on Oriana, he thought it wise to let her know he was there.

"Sorry about that display in there, but you were being sabotaged and that shouldn't ever be tolerated. Unfortunately I've seen too many of the girls in there go down the paths some of them do with Alice...it's not pretty. But to answer your question of where I came from...originally Perth, Scotland. I am Declan Emrys, son of Fergus Dunbroch. You've probably heard them call me Declan Robertson, that's just a cover surname. My uncle is Merlin Emrys, and you've probably guessed, I am the famed sorcerer's apprentice, well no longer the apprentice, I've a duty to this city...it's my duty to protect it."

He wasn't putting on any intimidation as he was inside, now he was more normal, still clad in his trench coat, and holding the icebag to his cracked rib. Now the book of shadows was visible next to the hand holding the doggie bag.

"You look concerned my lady, I am hoping this didn't trouble you too much."
 
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Oriana stared at him in surprise, "I never asked for all that, I meant how did you get behind me in there without me even noticing?" Least she now knew who he was. She remembered her Mother muttering about him being a nuisance, a little slim on the full details but generally she always took her words with a pinch of salt anyway. "Never mind, thank you for finally introducing yourself like a normal person...instead of handing me a random card...what was that even about?! And hold on, I'm not your lady." He spoke way too politely, she imagined that was the nobility peeking through. "So I don't know much about you I'm afraid, sorry if that hurts your ego or something...what is your deal? What do you want and why were you helping me in there? Don't give me the superman dialogue about protecting the city either."

Hang on, King Fergus had a son? He wasn't just the apprentice but Merlin was his uncle. She tried not to let her confusion show but indeed was cursed with an open and expressive face. Perhaps she shouldn't run her mouth before thinking things through but she supposed she'd run out of restraint tonight. The girls inside had run her mental battery low. She wondered if she was supposed to show more respect...no one else had, apart from the generic fear.

Oh great, the ring on his finger was doing that twinkling thing again and she refused to step closer to him. What had he done to it? Put some glamour or enchantment on there? Yet either way she was being slightly rude to someone who had tried to help her, intentions still yet to be accounted for. "Sorry...my name is Oriana. But you probably already know that." She didn't go into a spiel about her identity, no one could know. Especially not Merlin's nephew. "Newcomer...in these parts." As usual when she was anxious she had hit him with multiple questions without allowing him to get a word in edgeways. It didn't escape her notice that the Icebag wasn't for his hand he had injured yesterday but for his rib.
 
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