vindicta

[oraculumx]

Though it was not, Bastien would at least have some fun while doing it. Who didn't enjoy a little ritual sacrifice to brighten the day? Perhaps it would take his mind off of his lack of visions for at least an hour, perhaps two, if he were lucky. "Neither of us are particularly keen on apologizing," his nose wrinkled at the mere thought of it. What did he need to apologize for? Seeking the power that had always rightfully been his? For not running when all looked grim for the Asphodel coven? Bastien was almost certain that the list would be long within the minds of others. Well, those that had recovered from the torment within their dreams. Maybe he'd do the same to Levent. Or maybe he wouldn't give the elve the satisfaction of knowing that he still pouted over this. "Tell me," he started, as his gaze looked around them, "does this vile place at least have a salon?" For he would absolutely not be moving in if it did not.

[markusalarie]

"Is that what you want? An apology?" Markus couldn't help but raise his brow at that because it did sound a bit petulant, then again, nobody had ever accused his brother of not being petty. As if a few words though could balm the injury that scorched the differences between them, Markus would refrain from being surprised that Bastien hadn't seen that one coming and would instead try to dig a little deeper. As far as his brother would allow him to, anyway, while he cared about very few people in this world. Bastien and that ridiculous mop of hair happened to be one of them. "Can two people not survive on opposite sides of the battlefield? Is there even a battlefield?" More playful than anything because at present there was no obvious conflict, just two people with suddenly very different philosophies. "They have a vet, I'm assuming they do nails and washes too, but something tells me that's not going to work for you."

[oraculumx]

Bastien had made certain choices based solely upon the insurance of Pythia at his back, that he would not be left out in the cold when the blood dripped from his hands. Vivianne perhaps hadn't understood all that he had done for the Asphodel. Or perhaps she had, and her intention had always been to trap him within another coven. Where he would be at the mercy of its sovereign, unable to perform the sacrifices that had become so favorable. He supposed if it were ever something he would have actually considered, it would have worked out. Perhaps his eye had momentarily turned towards the Narcissus, but the oracle had never fathomed joining a coven that was not the Asphodel. "Perhaps I could sacrifice one of the sovereigns, take over myself," a grin slipped across his lips at the mere thought. Hadn't that little runt been given sovereign of her old coven? Perhaps that would be where he set his gaze. "If Trivia has no answers for me, then I will seek out the elves," there was a minor hesitation, his thoughts straying for only a moment, "but I have no use of that gate." Was he still salty? Absolutely.

[markusalarie]

"That sounds like how it works, whoever kills the sovereign becomes the next sovereign." Markus nodded, confident that his brother would find out one way or another. With any luck, Trivia would give Bastien the answers that he was looking for, it wasn't the entirety of the oracle's magic, but it was a significant part of his ego. These visions that Bastien held onto were among his oldest companions. "I take it you two haven't been able to reconcile?" It was difficult when someone decided to grow a conscience, Bastien and Levent had plagued this city and killed a God together - which said nothing of their previous history. Maybe Markus was more dramatic but he'd be doing a good deal more to try and get the elve's attention: what did the scorned do in this age? Key cars? Send threatening DMs? Stalk?

[oraculumx]

Safe; the word was almost laughable. For how safe could Bastien be, or ever hope to be? His hands had centuries worth of blood smeared against their palms, the lives of all those sacrificed in the name of the book or the visions that he had plucked for himself. Already those who had sworn themselves to the Necronomicon, to the Asphodel, who had revealed their true identities had been tracked down. Had been stripped of their magic and cast within the shadows. Bastien did not know what safe was, but he would be damned if he allowed himself to be thrown back into a cage. "I've been told to join one of the covens within the city," several times, if he were being honest. But did the amount of times truly matter so much as the fact that it had been advised of him? That notion was almost as laughable as Bastien ever being deemed safe. "I suppose of my choices, it would be the wisest. At least until my visions have been returned to me," for then what would he need the protection of the lycans for?

[markusalarie]

At that suggestion, Markus only rolled his eyes, "And what? Bind yourself to a sovereign for life?" Some of these covens historically didn't bat an eye when someone wished to walk away, but that wasn't the case if they were discovered to be a criminal. Bastien would be marked and at their mercy if anything ever came to light. "It's beneath you," as was this cesspool but at least here Markus had autonomy that Bastien would also share in. "If there's a way to get your visions back it won't be in the halls of those prudes, it'll be with the Asphodel, or maybe one of the elves nearby." These dogs would wag their tails for anyone who called them a good boy and tossed them the occasional bone, "Besides, you'll be much closer to the Moon Gate out here." Bastien could cut his commute to go see his situationship in half.

[markusalarie]

@corvinxs location: Mojo Dojo Casa Deo's Place notes: since u asked for this

In the last age, Markus had heard stories of the court, its mysteries, its wonders, and the so-called secrets that the fey kept here. Of course, back then it had been ruled by Titania, the drow had moved in and kicked the elves to the curb; oh, the things Markus had missed while he'd been imprisoned. A trademark between the Alarie brothers apparently, but the Asphodel's dark oracle walked free now, and so too did the elder of the two. There were few still alive who would have remembered him from the Asphodel's first uprising in Rome, but avoiding detection was a priority, so living amongst dogs was a necessity. Their proximity to the elves was advantageous, and their stark independence from the senate made the lawless nature of Lupercalia ideal for someone like him.

The court wasn't as impressive as Markus's younger mind had imagined, it was certainly a sight, shrouded in darkness, drow architecture had crawled over the former home of the eladrins. Steeped in shadows, prowling eldritch abominations skittered about the dark as the shrine to Lloth's foothold in the Otherworld gleamed with life. Magic was palpable here, Markus could taste it like oxidized iron across the tarmac of his tongue. Sorcerers, Priestesses, and everything else that was worked here.

"When you told me you were taking me back to your place I imagined a condo in the city." Markus said as he looked away from the view over the balcony and back to the drow, there was something more endearing about the truth of Amadeus' appearance; authenticity among the drow was likely rare, but the human-like glamour they imposed in the mortal realm was boring. "As far as secondary locations go, this isn't the worst place to die."

[borgialucrezia]

"I had to learn horsemanship to perform the period scenes in 'The Borgias'. I love feeling the power of the horse; mastering it while showing respect is incredible. I feel better and better every time I ride." — FRANÇOIS ARNAUD for Elle Quebec Nov 2011.

[oraculumx]

Bastien simply hated asking others for help, especially when having to admit that his magic was not responding as it should. The very thought of having to stoop to such a level made him sick. Though, he supposed that when the time eventually came, asking of his brother would be a much easier pill to swallow. Over, of course, having to voice it to Trivia, or gods forbid, Apollo. "Ah, well since that is unlikely to happen, I suppose the spare bedroom is mine. If I should need it, that is," though, it would be unlikely that even Bastien would need it. Accommodations had never been a particular worry for him. "Of course, for my good behavior," a grin slipped across his lips, for the oracle had just about lost his mind within the cells of the senate. Not to mention he'd hardly relinquished the vision that he had received of his inevitable escape. Oops. "Have you had any problems here?" Or rather, had any of the mutts grown suspicious yet.

[markusalarie]

The thought was there, what either would do if the other was incarcerated, but that was the risk that the necromancers ran. It might have been wiser to move onto a region that wasn't so militant against witches, but times would change, and really, where was the fun if there wasn't also a little danger? Wherever Bastien wanted to put down roots, Markus would concede to, if only until something larger called him elsewhere. The center of the Asphodel's power was here and Oztalun's requirements were far less daunting than the book had been: kill for power, that was it. No weekly meetings on how their plans for world domination were going. "These dogs only care about milkbones and anal, they don't care about where we come from and they don't ask a lot of questions." The magic they needed amounted to little more than a few parlor tricks, but Alder was interesting, and the Jotunn was something else entirely. "Elves come and go as they please, eladrins; you'd be safe here, Bastien. Even if Rome wanted to come sniffing around the lycans would run them out based on pride alone."

[emissaryalder]

^*^

Strength as a whole, a notion he held great resentment for. Alder had lost something when he got excommunicated and had been, in a sense, chasing that feeling. His attempts to hide and scheme had been found out in the end, so he knew there was no arguing with Markus. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I'm not the biggest risk taker, but when something I want is within reach, I can't help but grab it no matter the cost." If he couldn't mitigate a risk, then he'd have to figure a way to steamroll over it. At least out in Lupercal, he had a little more freedom to experiment before making big moves.

"It means a lot to know you're on my side. There's so much more I want to learn from you," Alder says honestly, his mild narcissism making him susceptible to a skilled witch's praise for his craft. "For Lupercal, and the Lupo of course." Even in private, Alder tried hard to not let his mask slip. All he did was in service to the lycans. He wanted plenty of evidence to fact floating around in case aspersions began to be cast toward him. "I'm being careful, learning from my mistakes and all that. But I must push myself too. That's the only real way to achieve mastery." Clearly, he didn't interpret Markus' words as a warning but as pure encouragement. "Where I'm at currently, I can't see myself joining another coven which isn't a problem at all. Everything is going to change soon. The pack will have its alpha. I'm readying myself to bear witness to their ascent."

[markusalarie]

Nobody exiled could claim to avoid risks, but Markus did enjoy Alder's candor. He was enthralled with himself enough that it sounded like he genuinely believed everything that he said. By now Markus had released the other's shoulder because while the other witch was clearly very desperate for mentorship and approval, Markus himself was as inherently self-serving as nearly every other necromancer out there. "Opportunity never waits, it's best to seize the moments that we can." Agreement through and through, no one of ambition could fault Alder for doing whatever was necessary to see his curiosities satiated.

Magic wasn't as rudimentary or linear as people wished to believe, there was no singularly correct way to accomplish a task. It was a common saying that with enough power a witch could accomplish anything because where they excelled was their ability to mimic the world around them. Every spell ever made had come from a witch's interpretation of another form of magic, or some other occurrence. As the world changed, so did the spells of the passing ages, Markus had been dormant for several centuries so he had a great deal to catch up on, but he was learning. "Does this mean you're going to tell me what you've been working on?" Markus nudged the other with his elbow before he passed him and set to task of packing up some of the materials they'd strewn about in their preparations. "A mind like yours couldn't possibly stay idle for long."

[oraculumx]

If there were ever a time to mock his brother, now would be that moment. But Bastien held his tongue. For now, until Markus eventually said something else that deserved to be mocked. Though, he supposed he did have many years to make up for. "Perhaps she'll try to kill me first," how exciting, it had been a while since Bastien had some real fun. Well, aside from actually being killed. And he didn't particularly want that to happen, given how he quite liked the way his hair took to the bleach of this century. "A pull out couch? Are you poor?" His nose wrinkled at the mere thought of pulling out a couch. And then actually sleeping on it. God forbid.

[markusalarie]

"I doubt she'll manage it, but it would be amusing to watch her try." Markus wouldn't want to watch his brother suffer, but neither would he offer to help him when it was so much more appealing to wait for Bastien to inevitably ask. The Asphodel's members had dwindled and talent was scarce, as were people that the other could definitively trust. However they ribbed, there was nothing that Markus would not cut down if it stood in Bastien's way. "No no, but I need to keep the spare bedroom open in case I have an actual guest over. I take it the senate was cutting you cheques the entire time that you were in their cell?" Markus did not doubt that his brother had two-thousand-year-old assets that he'd been keeping in reserve for precisely the time when he'd need them to bust himself out of financial duress; that was prophecy for you.

[oraculumx]

The mere mention of his lack of visions had his eyes narrowed, for it had felt like a part of himself had been stripped away. Though it seemed to be quite the pattern, having parts of himself taken. The annoyance only lasted so long upon his features, before Bastien rolled his eyes quite comically, "The day I get any sort of deck with mutts is the day you can put me into the ground, connard." Though his apparent dislike of the lycans didn't seem to prevent him from following his brother, into the lion's den, so to speak. Perhaps what he found within could benefit the return of the Asphodel.

[markusalarie]

"Have you considered asking your patron?" Maybe if Bastien asked the Graeae nicely, they'd start letting him stick his hand in the cookie jar again, "Trivia might have some insight, though somehow I imagine she's still pressed about the whole-" everything. Markus just gestured vaguely over it though, still, the necromancer if this unfortunate little affliction was limited to Bastien or if that other Oracle shared this present condition. "My home is open to you if you need a place to stay; the couch is very comfortable. It pulls out and everything."

[cassanderx]

It wouldn't be a bad sight, but Cassander was nothing but a horny dog, so he didn't comment on it. Or give Markus the joy of hearing it. "A non-lycan?" Cassander figured it would go to shit, or something like that. Why would they let non-lycan's compete? "The rules around here are ridiculous. It'd probably be broken up or something, we'd have to make more packs and it'll be an endless cycle. Didn't know witches were so interested in lycan politics. What if a non witch becomes your sovereign?"

[markusalarie]

"A broken-up pack would be bad for business," for now, Markus needed the other emissaries, and the lawless nature of Lupercalia suited his purposes just fine. Naturally, he didn't expect this one to know as much. "if a draegloth competes and wins, that's exactly what'll happen." Nash, Jonas, the former was predictable, though he knew very little about the latter. Markus moved past the other, "Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing, though; it doesn't seem like the pack serves much of a purpose here."

[emissaryalder]

^*^

It was only natural for Alder to revere Markus. Of course, a part of that was the subtle fear he and their third counterpart instilled in the young witch, but for the most part, Alder had learned how to watch his step around them to stay on their good sides. Moreover, his desire to use their vast knowledge for himself made him more inclined to seek their approval. It may have been an immature quality of his, but truthfully, Alder had become someone who craved approval from his fellow emissaries, even if that meant exposing the cards he'd been playing close to the chest since he arrived in Rome.

"An infinite source would be the dream, but in place of one I've grown accustomed to collecting power elsewhere. That's the basis of all my theories actually." There's only a moment of hesitation and a brief glance of uncertainty before Alder begins tracing his finger along the condensation of the cool window. His sigil, the very one he perfected a decade ago now, is his current pride and joy. Every curve was purposeful, every line had intention. And searing it into the subconscious of his lessers opened the door to all sorts of possibilities. "So much magic energy is out there being wasted. Not just by the naive, weak, and fearful, but by so many others. Magic lets them live, lets them exist, and for what? Magic should be used by the capable, and when you reverse entropy and redirect those streams to a better whole, well..." It wasn't just magic either. Life force, emotions, and possibly even the pain from a lycan's shift could be harnessed and channeled. Not individually, but collectively as the sigil allowed. "What sounds more efficient to augment a spell: using forty percent from one source to augment or using ten percent from thirty sources? With proper execution, you can get all the power you need while prolonging the exhaustion of more finite sources."

That was Alder's flaw, his voracity. He got too greedy and exposed himself. But his touch was far more measured these days and his research was making major leaps. To him, the alpha was the next key. "It's all theoretical, which is why I'm so committed to my studies," he adds quickly, wiping the window drawing away almost as soon as it's completed and he had a chance to stare at it approvingly. "And why I want to master all schools of magic, even blood. I think you're lucky to come from such a forward-thinking coven. Mine would probably still pay a bounty for my head." What remained of them, anyway. Alder did have to escape by force.

[markusalarie]

"That's the foundation of any coven, strength as a whole." The mark and why families of witches began establishing themselves over places of great power, where leylines intersected, where great disasters had taken place, where they could easily access the Otherworld, and where Gods had fallen. "The problem with any witch's mark is it doesn't run in a single direction; to channel, you need a connection, and even if you remove it, you'll have left your mark. Be it visible or not." This was to say that Alder could leave evidence behind, evidence that would direct any Watcher or witch Marshal straight to him regardless of how well he hoped to cover his tracks.

"Power is always a worthy endeavor but be careful; I've seen my fair share of witches burn out because they took in more than they could handle." That was the pitiable thing about these mortal vessels; they were likely to get scorched when someone got too close to the sun. Even the elves were limited in their capacities, most of them, anyway. "You're young, ambitious. Two things that can get you killed if you don't keep yourself in check." Markus placed a hand on the other's shoulder and squeezed as he shook the younger witch lightly and gave him an appraising smile. "But not to worry, I'll watch out for you."

[oraculumx]

where. outside lupercal who. @markusalarie

The stench of mutt was heavy in the air, and Bastien almost regretted his decision to venture so close to the walls. If it had not been for Markus' choice to establish himself within Lupercal, then he surely would not have. Bastien had no distaste for lycans, he simply did not care for them in the slightest. "Are you having fun? Playing fetch with the little dogs," of course the joke was to be expected, for why would the witch pass up the opportunity to do so at the expense of others?

[markusalarie]

The smell of peroxide meant Bastien wasn't far away; next came the familiar feeling of the witch's magic. "Little brother." Markus greeted as the other approached, "What do the cards say? Anything yet?" Bastien hadn't had a vision since the world had righted itself, "Maybe we need to get you a new deck; there's some inside that has dogs on them; you'll love them." Markus smiled as he led the other through the gates so they could get more comfortable within the walls.

[pelcrus]

There had been a lot on his mind as of late. His relationships with his brothers seemed to be in shambles and he was on a fucking Senate that he wasn't sure he should've been in. It was the best course of action for them though. Pelorus always thought about them when he made a decision. Whatever. He didn't need to think about that now. That was what the mead was for. Enough of that stuff and you were able to forget your own name. Or where you were. Pelorus was more of the latter right now. He'd somehow ended up on the floor, but all he could remember before that was being in the bar. How had he gotten there? Apparently he had a guardian angel though. It took him a second to realize the hand that was being held out towards him. He would've laughed if it didn't feel like he would vomit as soon as he did. "I don't even know. Maybe. How'd I get on the floor?"

[markusalarie]

How the necromancer had ended up in this situation was beyond him, the demigod might have made a reasonable sacrifice if Markus had needed one, but keeping him in a cell until then would just make him a liability. If this one was here, then that could only mean that he had some connections in the city, which, unfortunately, meant that Markus probably couldn't kill him without jeopardizing his position here. As little as he thought of these lycans in general, Markus wasn't without his fondness for them. "That's the ground." Markus pointed out before he clasped the demigod's hand, and heaved him up. "Alright, on your feet, big guy."

[emissaryalder]

^*^

Most witches were soft in the head, talentless, and painfully ignorant to the longing that dwelt within Alder. He remembered what it was to be a part of a coven, to see less skilled witches drawing the same amount of power as him and being applauded for their mediocre castings. Alder saw the bigger picture and was hated for it simply because he knew that the magic of the weak was best utilized in the hands of the strong. Being on his own for so many years only strengthened his resolve, and resourcefulness, and set him on his current ambitious quest for knowledge.

That's why he actually did enjoy the life he was building in Lupercal and all the work he was putting into the small city. In such a short time he'd learned so much yet hungered for even more. The respect and admiration he harbored for his colleagues was unmatched, but there was still a mild apprehension regarding them. They made Alder feel free and understood, and he always lent an ear to whatever new spells or techniques they could teach that he was actually capable of, yet the lessons he learned in the lawless supernatural yonder after escaping his coven still stuck with him: don't piss off stronger witches.

"Well, I didn't have the time to enjoy it if that's what you're curious about. Witches be crazy," he quips with a light laugh, waving his scarred hand as if it were nothing. But the facade is quick to fade and after a moment his fingers were clutching his palm as if to try and hide it. From what he understood, some free-thinking witches felt empowered by their first time. For Alder, it was a reminder of his failure. "I'd already been excommunicated from my coven. They purified the minds of the weaklings I gave purpose to as well. I was cut off, desperate, and facing down a bunch of dumb bastards who couldn't appreciate my talent. They were going to kill me, and I ... did what I had to do." Alder wanted to master all schools of magic, blood magic included. But it didn't grant him the type of power he truly craved. "Honestly? The whole experience made me realize that I can't rely on one source to achieve my goals. Is that okay to say? Did you enjoy it your first time?" he prods carefully.

[markusalarie]

There was a time when the ebb of power from the Necronomicon was limitless, now the dark magic had to come from within. Unfortunately, all things considered, Markus couldn't join a Coven and draw from them without being discovered, and even one of the elves would only be able to cast so much before they were depleted. It was a situation that rewarded few and seemingly encouraged teamwork among witches renowned for being solitary in their work. What Markus saw was competition; his God didn't care for sacrifices, not unless they mattered. Syphoned through the Abyssal dragon was the raw and relentless power of the Abyss itself, the gatekeeper in front of the door holding back the madness that threatened to lurch forth.

This boy was young and precocious; his journey was only beginning, but for him to stand amidst the emissaries of Lupercal meant that he had a measure of talent. Markus had tasted it for himself, and even now, Alder's magic charged the air and coated the tarmac of the necromancer's tongue. If the worst ever happens to this form, Alder's body would do nicely.

"The naive and the weak always fear the things they don't understand." Markus offered, "Blood has its uses, the base for raw power being one of them, but it's finite. That's where the misfortune comes in; what other sources have you tried? Leylines? Communal? Sacrificial? The elves have objects of power that they've imbued with magic, sometimes over centuries: spirits are useful, but nothing ever burns quite as bright as the soul. How much power would you need?" Was there ever enough? That was the issue Markus had run into repeatedly; there was one elve, though, in the fey's realm whose magic was limitless. A celestial, as rare as rare could be. "My parents hoped to build their own coven, my siblings and I were taught blood magic from the same age most toddlers learn to walk. Truthfully I don't remember a time when I wasn't in contract with Python."

[cassanderx]

"Commoners," Cass couldn't help but laugh, watching the witch stretch out like he was wasting precious time standing here. His gaze followed the other's out to the yard, where plenty of lycans were wrestling about thinking that they would be the next one to hold the title. Cassander didn't hold any such thought; he'd rather have fun than hold any responsibility. Maybe he'd have more fun if he shot Markus down a few pegs, anyway. "No witches, or maybe witches have to come around here only on their knees." He stood up now, giving Markus an amused look, "And beg to hang out with the dogs. You done, now? Or do you prefer the company? Maybe you should throw your shirt in with the lycans. Compete a little."

[markusalarie]

"Is that what you want? To see me on my knees?" That was surprising, and in that statement alone, Cassander had to be joking. "It's probably a nice sight, I can't blame you," the lycan stood so Markus did the same, closer than was necessary as he looked down at the pixie boy who'd fallen into this mud pit. "what happens when a non-lycan wins anyways?" It'd be more convenient if the pack was forced to do what he said.

[markusalarie]

@emissaryalder location: Meeting House Emissary Quarters, Lupercal notes: they know each other obvs but you know, just

Despite the heavy snowfall over Lupercal, the emissaries had it under control. They had cast powerful enchantments that kept the streets clear, prevented roofs from collapsing, and ensured that the lycan drunkards didn't die from the cold. It was a simple task for those with the required knowledge and resources. The emissaries used conjuration to bring in air streams, alteration to improve its composition, restoration to keep the wolves clean and dry, and illusion to preserve their sanity. And to tie it all together, they used blood magic- the most potent tool in their arsenal.

Markus stood on the second floor of the Meeting House, gazing out the window at the fairgrounds. He knew that each emissary present here had their reasons for being in Lupercal; either they were not accepted into the traditional covens or outright rejected by them. However, Markus had aligned himself with the Lupo because it was lawless, and the wolves here needed experts in magic. In time, he would find a way to rebuild the strength he had when the Necronomicon was whole. Necromancy was incredibly taxing, and the cost of its power almost always required at least one sacrifice. Inevitably though, Markus would get the answers he sought. After all, the necromancer had eternity to figure it out.

"Listen, Alder, I wanted to ask you something personal." Markus turned his attention from the window to his fellow witch. Despite not being close, Markus and Alder shared the same scar across their palms; a scar that no magic could heal or hide, the mark of a blood witch. "I want to know what it was like for you." He gestured towards the other's hand. "Your first time."

[cassanderx]

Cassander went to the gym often. It was sometimes to work out, mostly to work out, but otherwise, he just checked everyone else out and made sure there was room in the hall closet for whatever he and someone else wanted to do. He knew Serkan had planned that out purposefully, anyway. "If it isn't our emissary." It was a bummer none of the lycans knew how to communicate well, so much that they had one from a witch and all of that. "Enjoying your new title?" He picked up another sweet treat, because carb-loading was a thing, he supposed. All the workout videos he watched told him that. Pretending to workout was more difficult than actually doing it. "You know it. I'm always here for emotional support for the losers." He wasn't a leader, Cass definitely wasn't an alpha, either. "Going to enjoy the show?"

[markusalarie]

"I figure it's good to spend time with the commoners, let them know that I don't think I'm any better than the rest of them." Markus stretched as he said as much, joking in the fashion that while he didn't think much of the title, he absolutely did not consider the majority of them his equal. "What's going to be your first motion as alpha?" Markus asked, good naturedly as the lycans brawled in the background. "I wouldn't miss it for anything, plus I think it's expected for us to be here for it." Soon Lupercal would open its doors to Rome and invite everyone in to see how much it had grown, how their population had swelled, and just how many teeth were ready to bite down.