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Thread: (IC) Dersei Angels [M]

  1. #71
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    "alright." she said and made a few notes on what she wanted with a smile.

    "I'll wait out here while you order." she said. "I can take care of myself." she said that as to reassure him.
    she gave him a little smile and adjusted the seat to lay back a bit, but have a view of the angel's church.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  2. #72
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    Dorian left the car running as he stepped onto the curb and toward the small restaurant. He cast his eyes down the sidewalk in both directions as he approached the door, and then spared a glance over his shoulder across the street and down the block a ways, where the imposing church stood. He didn't linger on it though, wouldn't do to just stare outright at it.

    He entered the eatery, quickly approaching the counter and placing his to-go order. He took a seat on a small cushioned bench in the slightly dim waiting area, in a spot where he could see the back part of the car in the quickly darkening street.

    The girl can take care of herself, sure, but no sense in not keeping an eye on things. He reasoned, settling in to wait for awhile, since the order was a larger one. It should hold them over for their entire stakeout, even if they spent the whole night in the car.

  3. #73
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    Garana laid back, though she kept an eye on the street and the church with glances in all other directions as she listened to music on her phone, keeping it handy in case something happened. She wanted to get something to help out other than memory.

    She figured it would be a while before something happened, and things could be hard to miss on a busy day like this.
    She glanced around at her surroundings again and returned her attention to the church as the door to it opened.
    As soon as she saw this, she got her phone and started to take pictures of the two men in a quick conversation before they disappeared inside.

    She knew the quality wouldn't be good from a phone. But it was better then nothing.
    She would look over it with Dorian once he got back. And continue keeping an eye out.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  4. #74
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    Dorian's head jerked over toward the counter as they called his name for the order a short time later. He walked over to the counter, and thanked them, then realized they'd need drinks. He stepped over to the small windowed cooler they had next to the counter, with an array of glass and plastic bottles in it.

    What was it she had asked for at the house...? Ah, cream soda, that's right!

    He reached in to the cooler and grabbed a glass bottle of cream soda, and another of coke, pulling some cash from his wallet to pay for those and the food. He thanked them again as he headed for the door. He carried the bags in one hand, and sodas in the other, nodding his head gratefully as someone held the door for him on his way out. He walked up to the car, carefully opening the door and getting in, all while managing to not drop any of their food.

    "Anything interesting yet?" He asked with a half-smile, setting the drinks in the cup-holders and beginning to sort through the bag's contents, pulling out various containers and, after brief inspection, passing them to Garana or setting them on the dash in front of himself in turn.
    Last edited by Nitestrike776; 07-02-2020 at 04:18 PM. Reason: Clarity

  5. #75
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    "yup. but I'm not sure what we can make of it." she said as she took the food while pulling up the photos she took on her phone. "two guys had a short talk outside the church before heading in. I got some pics of it"

    she leaned over to show him the pictures she had taken of the brief encounter outside.
    she handed him the phone so he could take a close look as she opened up one of the containers and started to dig in, only stopping after a few bites to open her bottle and take a quick swig.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  6. #76
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    Dorian squinted at the image and tried to zoom in without much improvement in clarity.

    "Hard to make out details for sure, but at least there's activity, it's already better than more than half of my stakeouts get within the first hour."

    He handed her phone back then grabbed one of the containers in front of him. He snagged a pair of chopsticks from the bag, breaking them, rubbing them between his hands before opening the container and scooping up a healthy bite of noodles. He kept his eyes up and wary as he ate steadily, looking around both the street and at the front entrance as the fullness of night fell upon the city.

  7. #77
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    Gerena tried to follow Dorian's example and kept her head moving. she constantly went back to looking at the church entrance.

    it had been hours of them sitting there, keeping an eye out. and Gerena suppressed a yon.
    "almost like working late nights at the gas station." she grumbled as she stretched and took another swig of her almost empty drink.
    "This really does take a while, does it." she said and looked over to the clock. "dang."
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  8. #78
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    Dorian chuckled lightly as he stared out the windshield.

    "Yeah, unfortunately the bad guys don't always keep regular hours."

    He too glanced at the clock occasionally and sipped at his soda, taking care not to drink too much too quickly. The hours used to wear him down, but after too many stakeouts for his job, he was tolerant, if not comfortable, in the waiting. He had learned to pick up on extrasensory things. Feelings when something was ABOUT to happen, before it actually did. He couldn't quantify it, but it was probably made up of dozens of smaller things his subconscious picked up as he observed, barely noticeable without frequent exposure to the feeling.

    While he didn't have that feeling yet, there was a sort of tension on the street as they watched. Something not quite normal, that would make an ordinary person cut across the street or take an entirely different path, and just write it off on some minor detail that influenced the decision, not wanting to dig too deeply into the issue.

    He took a moment to stretch his body in his seat as he barely stifled his own yawn, flexing muscles that were becoming stiff from being idle so long. His eyes rested, once again, on the building that was the center of their focus, the church.
    Last edited by Nitestrike776; 07-11-2020 at 12:26 AM. Reason: Clarity

  9. #79
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    "well, let's hope we get what we need." She says and puts on a mock voice she feels a real detective would use. "we gotta bag these guys sooner to later." she gave a small smile.

    she was trying to amuse herself at this point in time. but, she looked around before looking back to the church herself and decided to look at the upper windows to see if anything was going on. it seemed she had been looking at the street and the door the whole time.

    she was getting tired. she just hopped something new would happen.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  10. #80
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    Slowly releasing her breath, Ama gazed beyond her own reflection at the city sliding by the windows of the Mercedes-Benz S-Class. The faint rhythm of Isla Fitzmorgan's sultry voice floated on the light pouring through the sunroof and wreathed around her soothingly. The street was full of the usual states of dress and undress common in Los Angeles, with a few flashes of good taste making their appearance here and there. There was much to enjoy in this city: she could not deny it had a certain avant garde quality to it. Her clients appreciated the new money risk tolerance that breathed life into some of their more draconian fortunes. Her hand moved over the lacquered box at her side, and she smiled remembering the kyusu nestled safely inside. 12th Century traditional Tokoname-yaki, created in 1714. Shudei clay, hand-formed. Older than I am.

    "Exquisite."

    "What was that?" asked the chauffeur as he leaned his ear towards his right shoulder awaiting an answer.

    "Mmm, this tea set that the Sugimotos gifted me is exquisite. 18th Century and in impeccable condition. They always know what I like."

    "Is that why you are releasing the new line of whisky to their clubs before it hits the U.S. market?"

    "You see too much, Melech... Still, you are not incorrect. They have a long history with our family and they seem to value tradition and quality. How many of us have turned to more base trades in the current climate? How could I not reward such dedication? Besides, they will appreciate the craftsmanship."

    "And the fact that they are Varic and young Rito is... how did you put it?"

    "Unbearable to gaze upon, as if the sun and moon were both framed within his visage," she replied breathily. "With eyes like sapphire, like lapis."

    Melech snorted derisively, but his lips were curled in amusement.

    "Oh, you cannot blame me for a touch of favouritism. Refinement is in their blood, after all, and they are meticulous at everything they endeavour to do despite that. Though with the company I keep, I suppose it is a wonder they think so highly of me in return." She gave a slight kick with her heel into the back of the driver's seat, which only made the tiefling's smirk broaden.

    "You wound me."

    "Oh, I've not wounded you yet, Mel, just give me time and opportunity."

    Both smiled easily. Melech Turchia had come to her family as security before she had been a spark in the aether, and they had become fast friends as she had grown under the watchful eyes of the family guard and assorted staff members. Exactly what his role in the early days of his employment with the Kukuri family had been, Ama did not know, but he had garnered an unusually favoured position even with her more conservative Varic father and his head of security. Ostensibly, Melech was now part of the driver pool in the car service her father kept on retainer, but she knew that he was meant to keep an eye on her as well. No matter where she traveled he seemed to appear. In fact, she could not remember a time of late that she had been escorted by any other chauffeur. Usually this would grate on the elf's nerves, but such was their relationship that she felt some sense of ease knowing he was to hand - though she would never admit as much.

    Fortunately, he was as fond of the fast pace of modern life as she was leery of it. While she conducted her personal studies on arcana; he was happily carousing in the chain of luxury, membership-only clubs families like the Sugimotos owned worldwide. He rubbed elbows with almost anyone and, she had a feeling; his social nature was in some ways a revelation from the more critical world he had survived. Humanity, though not humanity alone, had not always been tolerant to his kindred.

    Still, running her eyes over his side profile, she admired the sapphire blue of his skin and the strands of his hair falling from where he had it tied, so deeply emerald it was nearly black. He caught her gaze in the rear view and arched a brow, to which she smiled and laughed lightly. Behind those darkly-mirrored shades were eyes like golden globes. It was small wonder that the tieflings evoked such conflicting emotions in many, sometimes terrifying in appearance and sometimes as with Melech, beautiful enough to hide the power beneath the surface.

    "How long has it been since you have been home, Mel? You must miss it..."

    He was silent for a long moment, his face partially obscured in the vehicle's safety mirrors as he readjusted himself in the driver's seat. The silence stretched, and she turned to gaze out from the window once more, not minding that no answer seemed forthcoming. When she had nearly forgotten having asked a question at all, she heard him softly answer, "Sometimes. Sometimes, I miss it."

    She nodded gently. "We should visit."

    "More difficult these days."

    "Mmm, perhaps so, but if we do not know the right people perhaps we should expand our social circles."

    Melech arched a brow over the frame of his sunglasses at the offer of non-essential socialisation from the elf.

    "Oh, don't look at me like that. If you touch that talisman and moon about it anymore this trip, I'll leave you on the tarmac when we leave."

    His hand moved absently to the coin that hung just below the collar of his shirt, so aged that the markings were the faintest of impressions. "I am not the only one who sees too much, it would seem."

    They smiled again, but this time a touch of sadness tinged his expression. He cleared his throat and turned to draw up to the front entrance of a large apartment building. "We're here."

    Leaning back to the window, Ama ran her eyes over the structure critically. Serviceable. The word described the apartments as much as the man she had come to see.

    "Thank you, Mel. Oh, and... I imagine you will find enough trouble in L.A. to keep you occupied. There are enough spangles and neon lights to keep you busy for at least one night. Perhaps you'll see that dancer again, what was her name?"

    He made a half-strangled sound and then, "I can't remember." Letting himself out, he shut the door and likely hoped that was the end of the conversation. When he opened her door and offered a hand to help her to the curb, her beaming face appeared over her ridiculously large purse.

    "Oh, no? You've been alive as long as deserts from the way you talk, but the name of a single woman you met less than a year ago eludes you?"

    The gritty sound of teeth clenching preceded a quiet, "Candy."

    "Ah, yes. That was it," Ama chuckled, "Candy. Such a memorable child. So... effervescent."

    Candy had been a curvy, bubbly model-stroke-actress-stroke-waitress at a night lounge in the city, and Melech had been drawn to her during a quick trip to tie up some business contracts. While Ama had been the dutiful company officer, the tiefling and the young human had painted the town red - a little too literally. While sharing a private dinner, Melech had excused himself briefly only to return to a room in disarray with two members of the fine restaurant's wait staff strewn in pieces across the intimate place settings. It had been a setup, though to this day whether the girl had been aware was anyone's guess. She was found alive and blissfully unharmed under the influence of a sleep spell in a shipping container in the Port of Los Angeles and was just as chipper as ever once awakened. Baffled by her ignorance, Melech had escorted her home and the two had, as far as Ama was aware, never spoken again. That was how it went. As affable and easy as Melech's friendship was, his lines of loyalty were clear. There was family, and there was everyone else. It was one thing both he and the Varic kuramoto had in common.

    That day might have gone differently, indeed, Ama reflected as she smirked and waited for Melech to close the door. The bubbly little human girl had been colluding - whether intentionally or not - with the businessman who had smiled into Ama's face while making plans to eliminate her biggest contract in North America and jeopardize one of her company's proprietary distillation practices. Fortunately, she had become aware of the scheme before her final meeting with the snake of a man, but Dorian Holkiir had beaten her to the punch ultimately. All the better for him, Ama mused, If I had laid hands on him first there would have been nothing left but a memory for his family to mourn. Her eyes flashed, and Melech gently touched her shoulder to bring her out of her thoughts.

    "Shall I go in with you?"

    "If you like, though I suspect you may find the interaction boring. I should treat him to lunch. You remember Dorian Holkiir?"

    The tiefling nodded and stepped towards the driver's side door. "The investigator who helped with the Arnoud contract last year?"

    "Yes, that's the one."

    "What ever will poor Rito think?"he teased. I'll meet you inside, shall I?"

    "Yes, thank you, Melech."

    He re-entered the Mercedes-Benz and rolled away towards the parking garage attached to the building. The valet looked a little startled, but Ama simply smiled and nodded at him as she passed. The Kukuri were a private clan, and no one entered their spaces without need. She patted the door man's arm and he smiled at her. It was doubtful he remembered her, but the man had been welcoming on the few occasions she had visited previously.

    She was through the lobby and well down the corridor when Melech parked and entered through the garage entrance. He had reached the lobby by the time she arrived at Dorian's door and stood quietly looking through the gap between the door frame and the lock that sat half-fallen alongside the handle. Unless Dorian had been on one hell of a bender, this was quite an unusual way to let himself into his own apartment. Pausing in the silence of the hall, she cast about to see if there was any movement, but all was still and she did not feel any eyes on her.

    Lifting her arms, she rapped softly with the back of her knuckles on the door, using her other hand to pull her dark shades from her eyes. "Halloo, halloo, Dorian? Are you at home?"

    There was only silence. Pushing the door with the back of her hand, it creaked and groaned partially open until it caught on the floor. A glance upward told her that the frame itself had been warped by the force of whatever had opened it. Slipping through, she was greeted by festoons of padding and fiber fill from ripped sofa cushions and assorted bedding. Whoever had tossed the place had done a bang up job of it. The contents of the refrigerator were spattered and clumped over the kitchen and carpeting. Bits of glass and wiring were strewn about with papers. The wall-mounted television was ripped out with its cabling exposed and a nasty gash in the wall where it had swung back after being pulled free. Even the large window opposite the front door had cracks snaking along it with dark stains that she was unable to distinguish as blood or something else over the smell of rot coming from the foodstuffs left exposed. Stepping lightly amidst the debris, she walked the full circuit of the apartment to make certain no one was lingering here, but just as expected there was no one. This had been more than a day ago, by the looks of it. Two weeks since his last message.

    "What have you gotten yourself into, Dorian?"

    The door made a wrenching sound and slammed back into the wall before crashing to the floor and Melech stood sheepishly on the threshold. "Ah, what is this then?"

    She had turned to see who had entered and now gazed about as Melech also assessed the damage. "No idea, Melech, but I don't like the looks of it." Blowing out an annoyed breath, she moved to Dorian's desk and tried the drawers, some of which were upturned or broken on the floor. Melech moved towards the upended couch and walked the same circuit she had. Ama found nothing in the half-elf's desk that seemed unusual. He was just absent. Did you leave of your own volition or did someone remove you? Did this happen while you were already away? Why haven't you contacted me?

    "Look," Glass crunched under Melech's black Italian-leather boots as he moved towards her holding what appeared to be a laptop in his left hand, "I found this in a gap in the baseboard behind the nightstand. Well, what used to be a nightstand."

    Cocking her head to one side, Ama moved to stand beside him as he set the machine on the table and booted it up... it gave a raspy death rattle, let out an alarming high-pitched whine, and promptly died. The screen was shattered anyway, so it was doubtful it would be of any use. "What happened to it, I wonder... and if it was damaged at the same time as the apartment, how did it come to be hidden in the wall?"

    "Good question. Perhaps the hard drive can still be salvaged and tell us something."

    "Whatever is on it will hopefully give us a lead on what happened here. So strange..." She trailed off, running her fingertips along the edge of the laptop. What on earth is going on here?

    "Do you think it is connected to the Arnoud incident?"

    "I doubt it, Mel, why would it resurface now? Besides, not only are they closely watched, they would never lift a hand against us after last time. Not unless they want their son's cozy prison sentence to become a death sentence."

    Melech seemed less convinced, but nonetheless he closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm. "Perhaps Ms. Sugawara can provide us with some assistance in locating a computer expert in L.A. who can recover any data there is to be recovered on this laptop."

    "Excellent suggestion." Sugawara Yui was her very efficient secretary and also a close cousin. Ama bit her lip, mind churning for an idea of what to do next when the edge of a notebook caught her eye. She shook off the worst of the refuse clinging to it, frowning disdainfully and spread it open on the desk. "Hmm, look at this."

    They read together. It was an appointment book of sorts, with notes taken in a gumshoe style Ama appreciated as being part of Dorian's quite successful investigative practices. He had beat her out in capturing her own suspect last time, as it happened, so it was hard to argue with the results.

    "Look at this. Girl, half-Vuk. Looking into the disappearance of her family members. It reads like a typical kidnapping case, but why leave the girl?"

    "Why, indeed," rumbled Melech, "Is this the last entry?"

    Ama flipped one more page and nodded as nothing but blank sheets followed. An uneasy feeling rolled up her spine and she shivered. "Let us take these and go. I have one more stop to make before I retire for the day and we can call Ms. Sugawara on the way. It may take some time to find out if there is anything useful on the hard drive, but we can reach out to Dorian's friend in the police force tomorrow if we still have not located him by morning." Turning to go, something smooth and curved shifted beneath her heel. She took a short-step to avoid rolling her heel and looked down at the hole her heel had dug into a stray piece of paper. From beneath it peeked a small round gemstone, polished and boasting a strange rune. Bending to collect it, she shifted it into her other palm and considered it quietly. Melech peered over her shoulder curiously. "What is it?"

    "Not sure... Small enough to be a seal, but I do not recognise this rune. It does look elvish, yet... something is unusual about it."

    "Like what?"

    She lifted a hand palm-up and shook her head from side to side lightly, "I cannot explain it. I think... perhaps we need a dwarf."

    "A dwarf?" Melech parroted with a bemused tone.

    "Yes, Mel, a dwarf. Stereotype though it might be, no one knows stones like a dwarf. Perhaps Ms. Sugawara can give us a line on a geologist in L.A. that fits the bill." Her fingers curled around the stone and she gave one last look behind her, past Melech, before walking out of the apartment. The tiefling trailed behind before catching up to her in the hallway. They headed to the car garage together, both quietly lost in thought.

    *******

    Brushing back her long golden hair, Ama regarded herself with emerald eyes both bright and deep at once. The prior night, her secretary had been able to immediately return information on a data retrieval expert who the family sometimes employed, and Melech had seen Ama to her rooms in the high-end hotel in which her family owned shares before delivering the battered laptop to the man. The human expert had promised to notify them as soon as he had news. Pausing, Ama tapped the back of her hand against her throat and the edge of her jaw. The smooth, unblemished bronze skin was the same as ever, but she felt a bit strange today. It was unlike her perhaps, to be preparing like this. The affairs of those outside her family were seldom of any true concern to her. Still, she had few friends and fewer still who shared the same fire of discovery when it came to the arcane. She told herself that her interest in finding Dorian was more about her own enjoyment of their shared art, but in truth she knew that she had grown to consider him a friend. If something untoward had happened and she had the resources and time to recover him, she must at least give a modicum of effort. Twisting a section of her hair back from her face into a long braid, she wound it into an intricate chignon, allowing the rest to cascade down her back unfettered. Securing it with a long golden pin adorned with pearls, she smoothed her hands over her high-collared jacket, the angle-cut neckline of her creme-coloured dress all business today. She tucked her cosmetics case back into her purse along with the brush, tapped the colour at her lips and pressed them together with eyes narrowed critically before she turned her back on the mirror and wandered into the sitting room of her suite. Melech had been ready well before her and was sprawled and likely sleeping in one of the Queen Anne chairs that rested their claw feet around an ornate coffee table.

    She slipped her purse over one arm and retrieved a black leather case from its depths. Removing her sunglasses, she pointedly snapped it shut, jarring Melech awake as she tucked the case away again. He bolted upright, blinking his irritation before watching her step into her heels. She fluttered her lashes and reached a hand for the door, sweeping back her hair coquettishly as she sang back to him, "Well do come along, won't you? We haven't got all day to doze."

    She was already passing the two large tropical plants that flanked her door when he rose, eyes rolling hard, to follow her. Once in the elaborate lobby containing a lovely atrium, Melech left her to retrieve the car and met her at the entrance to begin their hunt for the missing half-elf.

    They had discussed their plan of action the previous evening and though the matter of the laptop was settled quickly, it had taken until morning for her secretary to return a line on a dwarven geologist. Well, geologist of a kind. They had sent pictures to Yui of the strange rune stone and in doing so had all noticed what appeared to be scratches from a setting on its sides. Since Yui was also at a loss on the meaning of the rune, she offered to have a more elder member of the Kukuri family review the photographs to see if they could read what was carved into it or provide some explanation of its purpose. In the end, they had decided to keep knowledge of the stone amongst the three of them. Melech would accompany Ama to visit the jeweler Yui had recommended first thing after they spoke with Marus.

    She had phoned Marus at an hour that bordered on poor etiquette, but after a grousing, "Marus. Who's this?", he had remembered her. The half-orc detective shared that a few days after Dorian's last email to her, the half-elf had phoned him for information about local kidnappings. Specifically, he had asked for information about a half-Vuk girl who he had been investigating with at the time. That is strange: he usually works alone. Marus also mentioned that while Dorian had said he might miss a planned gathering later in the week, he had not heard from him since and also had a bad feeling about the delicate nature of the investigation. He mentioned the Dersei Angels, but Ama had cocked her head and asked him to repeat, thinking that she must have misheard. After all, they were well-regarded by her family and she had never heard or seen anything that might suggest they would be involved in such a thing. He confirmed what he had been told, and in return she shared that she had visited Dorian only to find his apartment in a shambles. She left out that she had taken the odd stone, laptop, and notebook for now. If the detective did not know they were missing, he would not have a reason to ask for them or chide her for tampering with a potential crime scene. Thanking him and promising to remain in touch, she had disconnected the call and hugged her plush bath robe closer about her. There was something off about this business, but it still eluded her.

    Once Melech had arrived at her rooms and Yui had called, the morning picked up speed. Now that they were rolling along in L.A. traffic, she used the time to go over what they had learned. I wonder if Marus will find blood on that window. If so, was Dorian defending himself or was someone else fighting in his apartment? And why? Presently there were still more questions than answers the more they discovered. Ama had removed the damaged cover of Dorian's notebook and bound it in a clean seal skin cover that night also. It now rested in the seat beside her amidst the neatly arranged plethora of items that called her purse home. Perhaps the information about the half-Vuk would guide them to more clues. That will keep, I suppose., she thought to herself as Melech pulled up to a metered parking space as near as possible to the jeweler's shop. It was still early enough that many shops were not yet open for the day as they gazed about them on the street.

    "Shall I go also?"

    Considering for a moment, Ama snugged her blazer closer about her, tucked her shades into her bag, and shook back her hair. "No, no, thank you, Melech. You stay here, please."

    He nodded, wedging his heel against the curb and reclining his frame against the bulk of the S-Class. As Ama turned and walked towards the entrance of the dwarf's jewelry shop, Melech noticed a young woman approaching with a bundle of flyers in her arms. She would stop periodically and post one up or slip them under the front door of businesses that had yet to open. Melech reached into his pocket and palmed a few large coins, spinning them about his fingers habitually. The edges had long since lost any detail, worn smooth from handling.

    Watchfully gazing through the windows she passed, curious at what might lay beyond, Ama took careful steps towards the shop. Her eyes also skimmed over the half-Vuk, but unlike Melech she carried her gaze onward without even registering her. They must have missed the arrival of the owner, because as she closed the distance between the girl and herself she heard shouting. Unsure if it was directed at herself or the younger woman, she arched a brow and lengthened her steps until she stepped gracefully over the threshold. Lifting her golden head imperiously, she surveyed the shop around her until her eyes came to rest on a surly looking dwarf with a name tag pinned to his chest. Inclining her head slightly, she moved towards him and extended a hand.

    "Kukuri Amaterasu, but please, call me Ama. It is a pleasure to meet you,..." she leaned nearer to read the tag he had affixed to his chest, "Master Dragonsfoe. What a noble name." She lifted her emerald eyes to his. "I do so hope that you can help me."

    In the street, Melech had stiffened at the shout from inside the jeweler's shop, but the nearer the girl drew the more Dorian's journal entries teased the back of his mind. How many half-Vuk were there in Los Angeles? And how many handing out papers that advertised... what? Squinting he tried to make out some idea of what was printed on them. Two fingers pinched the stem of his shades, lowering them slightly along his nose as he watched the young woman draw closer. The coins rolled more rapidly through his fingers as he pondered, but he simply watched her openly, curious if she would also wander inside the dwarf's shop to share one of those flyers. It was too far-fetched to think that the girl they sought could be wandering right to them, but then again this was the correct part of the city...

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

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