Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: Bloodstone Medical Center

In response to Ragenard's dash, Quinn's book was set aside and she got to her feet. To her side, Connor cast her an uncertain glance, and she shrugged. There'd been no barked orders, which she'd have expected if there was an attack, but neither had that exactly been a calm jog over to the door.

"Should we..?" Connor began, but Quinn cut him off.

"Better not. Most likely it's their business, won't want us stickin' our noses in. No worth getting worked up over it, I imagine we'll hear if things turn ugly."

Her brother nodded, sighing moodily. Right now he was just bored. He'd take being snarled at over passing totally under the radar, like they seemed to be doing now.

Across the room, Seri yawned, and after a moment's consideration, hopped down from his chair. The scrawny black cat padded out to the door in order to observe the new arrival, and gauge Ragenard's reaction to them.
 
While Luka couldn't see anyone from him place on the motorcycle, he didn't need to see the inhabitants to know they were there. He could smell them easily but he had no idea how many were inside. There could have easily been an army awaiting his father and him.
"Whoa, wait for me, dad," he called as he scrambled from the bike and rushed after his father.
 
"Ragenard," Draaven answered.

As Luka closed in from behind, Draaven waited until the boy was at his side before resting his arm around his shoulders.

"This is my son, Luka. Is Mathis around?"

Mathis. Father to Ragenard and Baron, and missing for eight years now. Draaven it would seem was just as out of loop as to the pack happenings, as the pack was to his own.

His posture remained one of caution and watchfulness. He couldn't be certain how the pack would receive him after so many years of absence.
 
A disbelieving snort escaped Ragenard at the mention of his father.

"Heh, if you manage to find him let me know, he never got back from getting the proverbial milk and cigarettes," he quipped while fumbling to re-light his extinguished smoke. His brain hadn't yet caught up to the blast from the past as he took a drag.

"Son? Did you just say Son? Fuck but you picked a hell of a time to turn up. No time to rehash the past now, shit's going sideways," He remarked before exhaling a cloud of smoke and slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"Son. Right. Chill out and come inside so we can talk about what's got you turning back up on the homestead doorstep so to speak, and I'll explain why you might want to hop back on your bike," he exclaimed before taking another drag and peering at Draaven's son. That was a surprise, somehow he couldn't imagine the guy he remembered involved with the whole fatherhood business.

"Pa' ain't nothing but ancient history 'round here. Right now, I'm in charge. C'mon let's go, I don't want to attract undue attention out here just in case," he finished, waving Draaven and Luka inside.

"In you go too pup," he added to Aimee. "You'll have a chance to take a walk after we get a few things settled."
 
From the short time he had seen the man, Luka already began harboring a respect for Ragenard. He seemed like a good person, and so far he hadn't tried to kill him or his father. He peered past the man, trying to look into the building. It seemed run down and by all means uninhabitable.
The pack clearly didn't want nosy people butting into something they weren't involved in. Draaven had been extremely vague about the pack to him. Besides their werewolf nature, Luka wasn't quite sure who they were. He could be walking up to a building of criminals for all he knew. While the thought sent nervous tremors through his body, he couldn't help the excitement burning in his chest. Back in Arthegia, the most interesting thing in his life had been the friendly challenges between his and his friends in the schoolyard.
Now, he was in a whole different ball park, diving into the situation without knowledge of what dangers he could potentially be getting in to.
 
The small black cat sat in the entryway, watching the new arrivals with interest. They were familiar to the pack, then, if not expected. Seemingly the kid was a new development. This certainly wasn't the right place for one, that much was certain.

Seri didn't wait for Ragenard to ask before padding back into the building alongside them, making back for his perch on the chair with his curiosity having been sated.
 
Back inside--

Chloe had been startled as Ragenard raced out of the room. "The hell..?" She muttered to herself. Still, from what she had gathered, when Ragenard returned, he'd speak with them about their police story. She sighed and shook her head with a groan as she pushed herself up from the wall. Her head was pounding, and she desperately needed to sleep. Yet, she felt restless. She wanted to go for a run, or she wanted to go to the gym. Something to wear out the wolf inside her. She felt caged again.

She paced slightly, waiting for Ragenard to return.
 
Aimee lean against the wall watching and listening to the interaction between the newcomers and Ragenard. She still didn't know what to think of it, but figured it wasn't any of her business at the moment. Mostly she was just really worried about her father and where he was at and if he was okay. Glancing at Ragenard, Aimee frowned and shook her head, not liking his words. "Jacques is gone and left his phone behind. I'll be in... in a minute..." She sighed, knowing better than to argue too much.
 
Ragenard, in charge? The news was quite the revelation to Draaven. A Guiscard had always stood at the head of the pack for generations, but for Ragenard to have taken that head...

"What came of James?" he asked as he followed the others inside.
 
A deep frown crossed Ragenard's face for a moment at Aimee's comment.

"Did he now? Alright, take some air but make it quick pup," he called out to her as the door swung shut.

Another thing to add to the list, he thought. Jacques better had simply gone off to get some booze if he knew what was good for him. He shook it off his thoughts for now and turned to address Draaven,

"That depends on who you ask. Some will tell you I ate him, others that me and Baron buried him at the lake. Long story short, the old man was losing his grasp, and rather than face his sons, he slunk out of the pack. Baron took over for a few years after that," he mentioned with a sigh. "Then things went to shit in the old ways with our Scion buddies, and now he's laid up in a bed over yonder taking an unwilling nap, and I'm keeping the flea bags together."

He briefly fumbled with inhaling the last bits of his cigarette down to the filter before rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

"I got a good deal of shit to see to right now, you can get a longer version on things from someone else, and we can talk more later. The past is the past, and there's probably still a bed for your dumbass somewhere around here, soldier. If you decide to split again, be careful. The streets out there aren't safe per usual, and before I'm done they're gonna get a lot less safe," he finished with a nonchalant wave before heading off into the building to continue dealing with affairs. It would be clear to anyone watching that whatever history Draaven had with the pack, he was still acknowledged as belonging.
 
Home sweet home, Draaven thought as he trailed inside the building after Ragenard.

"Some things never change, eh?" he noted.

---​

Meanwhile back inside...

"Oi, your pacin' is gonna wear a 'ole in the floor," Desmond remarked groggily. "Ge some rest would you?" he asked.

He tried to keep himself awake for Ragenard's return, but the dancing energy that crackled along his skin at Chloe's tension proved distracting at best. Soon he had sunk back into restless sleep with dreams of the woods, and of the earth beneath his paws.
 
Desmond's rest would prove to be short lived as it didn't take all that long for Ragenard to ascertain that there was no threat to them outside. He couldn't decide however if his mood was improved or soured; having Draaven around would at least mean another set of hands he knew from experience were capable, but Jacques as usually had to fuck things up.

With a low grumble to himself he pushed into Desmond's room to find him asleep and Chloe working a new groove into the floor.

"Oi, sleeping beauty get up we got a lo--ah fuck it," he decided seeing how out of it Desmond was, and how comically his legs were twitching minutely like a puppy running through a field.

Instead her turned to address Chloe.

"Quit ruining our floors," he grunted at her. "He's useless right now, so you'll have to do. Make sure he knows the cuzes are his responsibility to keep out of trouble. If any of 'em barge in here angrily," he paused with a snort at some private thought, "specially that firebrand sassy one, they're his problem. You can tell them they can stay, and after we all get a rest, we'll see what they can do without fucking things up too much."

A half suppressed yawn escaped Ragenard, and he shivered slightly as a tingling rand up and down his spine, making him think of blue. A frown creased his brown before he continued.

"Four hours. We can all do with some shut eye. Get some rest alongside the lump," he finished before quietly departing, not giving Chloe a chance to respond in the brief exchange.
 
Chloe had stopped as ordered, listening to what he had to say. She was going to ask about when they were going to talk about the police and how to get their story when he left.

She was mentally exhausted, though. She sighed and walked back over to Desmond, sitting with her back against the bed and closed her eyes. Eventually sleep would take her.

---

Skye had been heading that direction towards Desmond's room when Ragenard left. She tilted her head at the larger man, as she aimed to walk past. "Ya look like you're about to fall over." She commented as she went by. "Ain't seen Brendan, 'ave ya?" She asked, expecting a quick yes or no.
 
Skye nodded at the air in response. Quietly she peeked into Desmond's room and saw Chloe settled on the floor and the conked out half wit cousin of hers, but not the other half of that wit. With a silent sigh, she sat with her back against the wall, deciding to wait it out for Brendan to show up again.
 
Beyond annoyed with everything and in desperate need of a drink, Aimee started to slam a fist into the wall before realizing it was her injured arm. Dropping it back down to her side, she shifted her gaze up towards the sky, wishing she knew where her father was at. Her fingers of her good hand ran through her hair and she wished that she would have been allowed to go out with the rest of the pack. Despite recognizing the fact that she was an alcoholic and needed to stop drinking, she wanted booze. It wasn't like it was something she could easily give up. If it were, it wouldn't be called an addiction. "So stuffy in there." Aimee muttered, glancing towards the door before just sitting down outside, back against the wall. She tugged both knees up against her chest and ended up resting her head against them, arms wrapped around her legs. She would head in soon, but for the moment, fresh air was very welcome.
 
Several hours passed uneventfully before Desmond began to rouse from his slumber with a groggy yawn. The bruises had faded from his face, and a quick check with his tongue revealed that his teeth had regrown already. He was still stiff and sore from the thrashing he had taken, but the few hours rest had seen him well on the mend.

Two things reached his attention. The sound of Chloe's breathing near at hand which immediately eased concerns as to her current well being, and a familiar smell coupled with the sounds of another breathing just outside the door.

He shifted to let his legs dangle off the edge of the bed and rubbed the palm of his hand against his right eye with a groan.

"Don't suppose either of you are awake?" he said. "Got me a 'eadache about to split me noggin in two, an' could eat a 'horse."
 
A groan rose from Chloe as she shifted slowly awake, blinking tiredly. The soft ruffle of clothes outside his door would alert him Skye was also awake.

The brazen cousin peeked in with a tired grin. "Don't think ya noggin splittin' in two would 'elp your looks any, but I'd try if there were a chance." She joked softly. "At least your appetite ain't changed, ya big lug." She paused briefly, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. "Wasn't gonna bother either of you though, didn't know if there were uh.. Important matters to be discussed an all now that your face is a bit prettier and ya ain't facin' death." She winked at Desmond.

Chloe furrowed her brow in confusion, brushing some wild hairs from her face. She had ended up curled up with her jacket as a pillow on the floor, and every part of her creaked it seemed. "Wha--?" She said sleepily, still not awake enough to understand the drawl of the Ivarian.
 
"Love you too," Desmond replied with a grimace. "What I miss while I was out? You're still 'ere, so I'm guessin' Ragenard didn't send you all packin', eh?"
 
Chloe pulled her knees to her chest, pillowing the jacket once again and placing it on her knees to rest her chin on. "Mmm.." She uttered, remembering the few hours before. "Yeah.. Ragenard said they're your responsibility.. But they can stay.."

Skye raised a brow. "Well, there ya have it. Though 'e and I would 'ave words about 'im expectin' me to turn right back around after ridin' all night." She smirked. "That fella's got everyone on a tight leash right now, though. Its been real quiet, so I suppose that's a good thing. 'alf of you looked dead on your feet. 'ell, she still looks 'alf dead."

"Rip." Chloe muttered.
 
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