as written by Ronin, Knosis and Tiko
A shoddy cab shuttered to the curb outside Desmond and Brendan's house. A young, thin man in a plain black coat stepped out of the back, walking up to the passenger window and offering a small wad of bills to a driver who took off as soon as payment was received. The man watched him go, brows knit over a pair of pale blue eyes before wiping his hand on his jacket and turning towards the door. He bounded the steps and knocked three times.
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Chloe looked as though she were about to add something, when the knocks at the door came. She raised a brow and looked over at Desmond.
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"Told you I was expectin' company," Desmond told her with a wink.
Though it wasn't the company he was expecting when he opened the door to find himself face to face with Archard. Confusion crossed Desmond's face as he had been expecting a drop in from the police.
"Can I 'elp you?" Desmond inquired.
Had Archard shown up in more official church garb, Desmond might have met him more amiably. But as it stood, Archard could just as easily have been one of Rowan's people. It left Desmond guarded and watchful.
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Archard looked up at the man, taking quick stock of the man's features. Unlike the rest of th Lutetian Bloodstones, Archard had little to no information on Desmond. The Iverian native had an impeccably clean record - probably because he'd spent so little time in the city. As it was, Archard had no way to identify the man, save for the brogue that he assumed Desmond spoke with.
"Good day," he nodded politely, "I an inquisitor-archon Archard Pierpont. I am looking for a 'Desmond O'Callaghan'. Is he in?"
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Chloe's hackles rose nearly instantly at the name of the inquisitor. The church had been one of those factions that made her life in the Society nearly a living hell. Due to her nature, they nearly condemned her on the spot with the records the Society held on her. The Society purposely tried to keep the animosity between the Church and themselves to a minimal, but most of the older members and over zealous members of the church had an issue with the Society using non-humans to hunt down non-humans. With her record with instability, it was a challenge for the Society to allow her to continue her occupation there.
Her jaw set as she moved in behind Desmond, keeping her face semi hidden behind Desmond's shoulder. Even if she had never had dealings with this inquisitor directly before, she was sure they kept tabs on all the 'highly dangerous' individuals in Lutetia. She gently pressed her hands against Desmond's back, twisting her fingers slightly into his shirt.
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Desmond arched an eyebrow at Archard's introduction. The Church? Their involvement was an unexpected variable, but it didn't change the immediate plan. Still it was something to notify Ragenard about later. If the Church was getting involved, the game was about to change.
"Aye, I'm Desmond," he answered.
None of Chloe's tension and unease was present in Desmond. He was cautious to be sure, but at ease. He could only hope Chloe would pick up on his own calm when he felt her behind him. He didn't need to turn to pick up on her tension. He could feel it in her hands.
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"Delighted to meet you," Archard replied, his tone cool and reserved and slightly bored. "I hope this isn't an inopportune time. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." He waived a hand dismissively. "You're not in any sort of trouble, I just need some information. I should be out of your hair in ten minutes. Fifteen at the most." His eyes flickered to the half-hidden face behind Desmond's shoulder. The hint of a smile tugged at his lips, which were a healthy red. It was the only warm color he possessed - all the rest was white and black and shades of hypothermic blue. "Good day."
He looked back to Desmond, unblinking, hardly moving. "May I come in?"
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Chloe's grip tightened slightly on Desmond's shirt for a moment before letting go. "Good day." She replied politely, albeit a bit brief. Her green hues never left the man's face. She did not trust the Church. The ancient faction had been around way too long and had learned to twist their words to benefit them the most. Even as a human, they had been a thorn in her side.
Chloe moved away from Desmond as to give him way to let the man in if he so desired.
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"That's fine, though I don't suppose you 'ave some identification on you?" Desmond asked. "Can't be too safe around this part of the city," he explained.
Garbed as he was, Archard had nothing but his words to suggest that he was who he said he was. There was no animosity or hostility in Desmond though, but he seemed intent on making sure Archard was indeed an inquisitor with the church before letting him into his house.
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"A careful man," Archard nodded, "I completely understand." He reached into his jacket and removed a leather flip-over. The flap turned and Desmond would be looking at a badge imprinted with Archard's name and rank, set to the backdrop of a many-branched oak tree - the insignia of the inquisition. Archard removed his drivers license and set it next to the badge for good measure.
"This identifies me as an inquisitor archon. It means that I am a member of both the inquisition and the justice system." If he read the license, Desmond would learn that Archard was 5'8", 135 pounds and roughly twenty-one years old. "Like police officers and Paladins, I am endowed with the authority to detain suspects and make arrests - whilst also maintaining access to the inquisition's archives and recourses."
"...and, should you desire further proof..." Archard reached below his shirt and removed a silver necklace from his chest, revealing a wingspread raven pendant. The metal shone with a faintly ethereal shimmer in the light. Sacred steel. Desmond would doubtless be familiar with the amulet awarded to ranking members of the Evequec church. Only those attuned to the metal's energy field could stand to wear it. In the hands of anyone else, it would start to burn - lightly at first, though it would become unbearable in a few short minutes.
"You may touch it," Archard offered. Badges and IDs could be forged. This could not.
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"Nah, come on in," Desmond said.
He stepped to the side enough to wave Archard in, and it was curious to note perhaps that he moved in such a manner as to almost shield Chloe with his body. Or at least that is what it might seem at a casual glance.
For Chloe she might realize differently. Desmond hadn't shown a penchant for being over-protective of her, but perhaps it wasn't she whom he was protecting.
He knew she was on edge, and the last thing they needed right now was her shifting and tangling with an inquisitor. She seemed well enough in control of herself to not be an immediate concern though, or he wouldn't have allowed Archard in the house at all. Still, a bit of caution never hurt.
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The red haired woman moved further away, keeping Desmond between herself and the man, giving both Desmond and the inquisitor room to breath. She leaned against a door frame and watched the two men, trying to seem casual about the current situation-- And failing horribly.
Her teeth gritted as she felt that horrible tingling pain feeling start up her left arm and it went useless. Cradling it in her right arm, it looked as though she had simply folded her arms across her chest. Just what she needed right now.
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Archard entered the apartment and looked around. He did not take off his coat. As Chloe gave the two of them some room, the inquisitor got a clear look at her for the first time. He said nothing to her.
"Wherever is most comfortable for you, Mr. O'Callaghan," the inquisitor shifted back to Desmond. "The kitchen, perhaps?"
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"Aye, that would be fine," Desmond said as he gestured to the nearby table. "I would offer you somethin', but we're runnin' a bit empty," he said. "A glass of water is about all I could spare you. So what is this all about anyways? Don't usually get you church fellows out this day. An' I don't mean to rush you, but we need to be 'eadin' out soon."
As Archard made for the table, Desmond approached Chloe where he paused and reached a hand up to brush his thumb against her cheek as he studied her pained expression. There was concern in his eyes at how she was reacting to the church official.
"Do you wanna wait downstairs?" he asked her.
The inquiry was genuine, but he wouldn't push the matter if she would rather remain up here. So long as she wasn't showing signs of losing control of herself.
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The red haired woman's attention shifted from the Inquisitor to Desmond almost in an instant, and her expression soften a very tiny amount. A smile hinted on the corners of her lips but she declined with a simple shake of her head. It was one thing to have a church official here in the house. It was another to leave Desmond alone with them without knowing the intent of why the man was here.
"I'll be fine." She promised, her voice sounding a bit strained. She impressed herself that her voice hadn't cracked. The pained tingling had spread to her shoulder by now.
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Desmond seemed only partially convinced but he nodded. He was beginning to rethink his plans though. If she was having this much trouble in the mere presence of a church official, in a calm situation... he didn't fancy her chances of holding herself together when he and Ragenard came to blows.
Some adjustments may be required, to find her someplace else to stay for the next few days, away from the pack. It wasn't a decision he looked forward to needing to make though, and so he put it from his mind for now and instead turned his attention back to Archard. He let his hand drop from Chloe's face as he followed the church official to the table.
Hopefully Archard would keep this quick.
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When Desmond came into the kitchen, Archard would already be sitting opposite him at the table. A file folder lay open on the wood and the Inquisitor was perusing the papers with mild disinterest. For all Desmond knew, he'd pulled it out of his ass. His coat wasn't that big.
He looked up at the Iverian as he entered and the smile on his lips was thin and shallow. "A glass of water would be appreciated, if it's not too much trouble." He turned over one of the papers. "You're a long way from home, Desmond. Is this your first time visiting the city of Lutetia?"
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"If you count that I 'aven't really left since I got 'ere, then aye, first time," Desmond said with a chuckle as he filled a glass of water from the tap and set it on the table before seating himself as well. "Been livin' 'ere near a year now."
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"Thank you," Archard took the glass and sipped. He set it down on the table between himself and Desmond. "A year? Goodness, that's a while. I've heard that Iveria is a gorgeous place. Always wanted to visit myself." He looked curiously at Desmond. "What's keeping you here? Surely you must miss your home."
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"I don't wanna be rude, but like I said. We need to get goin' soon," Desmond explained. "If we can cut the wee blather, an' get to what brings you 'ere, that would be great."
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At this, Archard raised a brow. Desmond didn't give off the same cold vibe that Baron had. The inquisitor had pegged this man as someone who -liked- to talk. What was holding him back?
His eyes flashed briefly to the hallway they'd come through. They scanned for Chloe.
He looked back. "My apologies. No time for small talk." He stacked his papers. "You reported a truck missing earlier this morning - license plate SVE-1395. Registered to James Guiscard - Baron." He looked up. "Were you the one who noticed it was missing?"
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"Aye, that was me," Desmond answered.
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"Where were you when you noticed it was gone?" Archard followed up, "and were there any signs around the area to suggest it'd been broken into?" He waived a hand in a circular motion. "A heap of broken glass, perhaps?"
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Chloe shifted awkwardly where she stood as the inquisitor's eyes landed on her. The pain spread further up her shoulder and she could feel it tightening in her chest and neck. Her breathing began to become harder and she moved to the living room, leaving the pair but still listening in as well as she could.
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"I was 'ere, and no," Desmond answered.
He cast a glance towards the doorway where Chloe had left, but he didn't get up.
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"It was just gone, then? Curious," Archard removed a pen from his jacket and scribbled something down on a paper in front of him. "Does Baron frequently let you borrow his car?"
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"Naw, not usually," Desmond answered. "But me car got blown up last week, and Baron's out of town for a while. So he lent me 'is truck while 'e's gone."
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"That's very generous of him," Archard replied, "when was the last time you drove in it?"
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"'aven't," Desmond answered. "He dropped it off yesterday, an' it was gone this mornin'."
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"Around what time did he drop it off?" Archard asked.
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"Late mornin', early afternoon?" Desmond offered. It was more of a question than a solid answer. "Can't say I really went an' checked a clock when 'e got 'ere," he explained.
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"How do you think the car was stolen?" Archard asked, "was there an open window - a door that wouldn't lock, perhaps?"
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"Can't say I know for sure," Desmond answered. "'e didn't say anythin' to me about anythin' like that, but like I said. I 'adn't used it since 'e dropped it off, an' inspectin' it over wasn't on me mind at the time. Can't say I recall if 'e left any windows open or not. I let 'im into the garage, an' then 'e 'eaded out after. That's all I really seen of it. I do know the garage don't lock, 'asn't since me brother and me moved in 'ere. I'm just 'opin' it turns up before 'e gets back an' finds out it's gone."
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Archard nodded as Desmond spoke, scribbling little bits of text into the sheets before looking up at the Iverian.
"Where are the keys?"
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Chloe allowed herself to sink into the chair she had used the night Brendan had kicked her out. She grit her teeth in order to keep herself from crying out as the pained sensation spread. She was losing functionality in a limb for a short time was not new when she was overly stressed. But this was spreading, and lasting longer. Her breathing came in short bursts. She found that even if she wanted to cry out now, she was not able to. Her voice was gone as the numbness spread to her neck.
Panic quickly overcame her as she found moving to be difficult at all now. Her body just seemed to be losing strength.
'Calm down, Chloe.' She thought. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
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"They're in me coat pocket," Desmond answered as he got up.
He made his way for the living room, knowing full well that the keys were back at the Medical Center, and not in his coat pocket. Still, he had enough witnesses placing him at the bar last night to make it work.
"'ey Chloe? Did I-"
He broke off as he caught sight of her.
"Chloe?" he asked.
He took a step towards her, but as he caught notice of her rapid breathing and the pain on her face he stopped mid step.
"Aw 'ell," he said.
He grabbed up the house phone from the nearby table, dialing a number.
"'ey, I need an ambulance at 425, Bezout street," he said into the phone.
He set the phone down on the table rather than stay on the line to answer questions as he made his way to Chloe.
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Archard heard the commotion in the living room and quickly gathered his papers back into his file. He tucked the folder into his jacket and came out into the living room. "Goodness," he appeared startled - if such an expression existed in his emotional repertoire.
He looked up to Desmond. "I have a car outside. I can offer you a ride to the hospital, if you like."
He drew closer to Chloe, pale blue eyes making a careful inspection of the girl. "Has this happened to you before, madame?" He realized the question was futile as soon as he asked it. Chloe couldn't respond even if she wanted to - the woman appeared locked in the throes of a desperate pain.
"Desmond, is this a common occurrence?"
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It was a struggle to open her eyes again. She felt tired, and it showed in her eyes. But she was beginning to regain motion in her finger tips on her left hand. She still couldn't find her voice to reassure Desmond she'd be fine. But her eyes locked on the inquisitor again instead. I mixture of emotions spread across her face, but she tried to scoot away from the man, or as far into the chair as she could.
She wanted nothing to do with him now.
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"An ambulance is already on the way," Desmond answered. "Just... go. You bein' in 'ere is only going to make things worse. Leave your number in the kitchen, an' we can finish this later."
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Archard looked as if he were about to protest, but closed his mouth as Desmond finished speaking. The co-owner of the home in which he was a guest had told him to the leave. He had to go.
He made a show of buttoning-up his coat to spare him one last glance at Chloe, taking a final stock of the girl and committing her image to memory.
"I'll wait outside until the ambulance arrives," he said plainly, walking around the couch and handing a silver card to Desmond as he passed, "I look forward to seeing the both of you soon." He opened the front door, turned and smiled at Chloe. "Feel better, madame."
He would leave the room, walking briskly down the steps before pulling out a phone and calling his chauffeur to park at a curb a couple houses down from Desmond's home.
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Chloe calmed down slightly as soon as Archard left the house, her head slumping against the chair in exhaustion. Sleep. That's all Chloe wanted to do at this point. Her eyes slowly drooped and her breathing slowed. Her skin around her neck and left arm was cool to the touch.
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Demond remained with her until the ambulance got there, and when the paramedics arrived and loaded her into the ambulance, he joined her in the back of the emergency vehicle to be taken to the hospital. Having her taken to a human hospital had its risks, but he couldn't very well carry her all the way to Reinhard's.
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Archard would be standing outside the front of his car, leaning against the hood. In his hands was a cup and saucer steaming with a fresh-poured tea. He sipped and watched them go.
