#hector stone

[maybellinemagic]

[maybellinemagic]

There they go again.“ He rolled his eyes and tossed a bottle at Aria when she asked for one. "Bloody fighting for the saliva aren’t they?

Hector Stone, Court Era: Proclamation, Chapter 28, about Mitchell and Leah

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-eight: 5} arthur bridges.

After he had struggled for hours, after he had nearly driven a dagger into his best friend's hearts, after everything -- it had not mattered fucking at all. His father was already dead. They had failed. He hadn't gotten to him in time. He had been dead two hours - God forgive him, two hours ago he had been laughing, drinking with those who had become his family. It was to steel themselves for the afternoon! He'd shouted it merrily at Mitchell's disapproving eye-roll as they saw the drink. What was he supposed to do? He had never given a thought to the treachery of the Sheriff -- fucking stupid of them, he thought. The man was mad. 

White, blinding, rushing, crushing, gushing rage poured through, into every crevice of his flushed skin, ever nerve of his being, every blood vessel until one popped above his eye. Fist flying, he heard the ringing of swords drawn and crossed, felt his limps struggling to break out of his friends hold, but could not rationalize it. There was nothing but the embrace of cardinal desire, a need for blood. Hungry to sate his need for vengeance, he was glad that Mitchell was speaking -- glad to hear the angry, loud shout of his honorary brother's voice -- for he had no words. He had nothing. Blank, he marveled that an a void could ache, at how heavy the absence of emotion could be, at how oppressive and crippling wrath was. 

The first clear thought was for his sister. "Karyn." He said it hoarsely, bile in his throat. The girl was his only family left in the world, and he had not seen her in weeks. No one knew where she was, but oh his friends promised him - everyone promised him - it had to mean she was fine. He would not rest until he found her, he knew that now, could not sleep until he had her in his arms and locked her away from the world. The need was so great to see her, to reassure her - and himself, that they were not alone - that it was as blinding as his rage had been. He noticed he couldn't see. Tears were falling down his cheeks furiously quick - as if his tear ducts were infected by rabbits that hopped away from them on the dirt ground. 

Only then did he notice how far from the square he already was, that the crowd had blocked most of the guards from pursuing them. Sonja had her arm around him, and he was leaning on Kenneth's shoulder -- fuck, was he bleeding? Tip of his tongue flicking out, sure enough he tasted blood. He licked again on a sick impulse, craving the reality of what he knew his heart wanted. It wasn't enough. He wanted the Sheriff's blood. He wanted all of their blood. He wanted them dead, and fuck what was right. 

Sonja lifted her hand to rub blood from his lip and murmured a quiet prayer in whatever language it was she spoke - Hebrew, Arabic, something like that - before one English, frankly ordering him not to punch another guard. That explained the blood on his knuckles too. Ken, Sonja and Hector -- there was no Mitchell, he realized, heart aching again. No, no -- no after all of that, all of this, they did not get to fucking take his brother too. In fact they were not going to take anyone ever again. They were fools to make him this angry, he thought in ill humor, they clearly had death wishes.  He heard Hector's hammer smash against armor distantly. Then all was tears, a loud pop as they vanished, rushing wind, and despair.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-five: 1} outlaw babies, leah

Arthur: Don't need to tell me twice. *He laughed, rubbing his chest hard and windpipe hard before it became another cough. Then he turned on his heel, disapparating in an instant - and for a moment it was bliss, not to feel or think or be. The world squeezed itself back into existence too soon...and revealed Leah. Sitting on a stump, juggling her knife and clearly about to throw it. No, had thrown it. He jumped, eyes going wide.* Leahr: Arthur! *Her knife embedded deeply in the target, wiggling on it's point and jabbering it's entry her shock gave way to delight at his expression. Yes, all right, that may have gone near his nose. How was she to know he would apparate there? In two seconds she had crossed the distance, yanked her knife free and wrapped him in a hug.* Arthur: Leah! Why am I not surprised? *Though his laugh was quiet from laugh of breath and his 'bloody hell' genuine, he couldn't help utter relief crossing his expression. Her quick 'sorry' later as she pulled back, rubbing his arm and kissing his cheek anyway in penance for holding on to him so tightly - Hector was right, women - Arthur grinned at her, sheepish.* Lysa? Leahr: *She chuckled, nodding but still raised her hand to point at him, even as the others popped into existence around her,* Hey, she wanted to do it anyway. Arthur: Right. *He laughed and kissed her cheek too, good natured. Then he turned to Sonja as she appeared, holding both hands up as he said lightly,* Do your worst. Sonja: *She drops Kenneth's hand, then purses her lips at him.* Oh- Arthur: Nuhhuh. I think you used your oh-arthurs up. Sonja: *She wiggled an eyebrow at him, filled with affection and gestured with her head to a low bunched cloth she had been using as a pillow. He needed to sit on something soft.* Leahr: *Immediately had rounded on Mitchell, and wrapped her arms around him tightly, relieved he had told her where to come beforehand, relieved it had worked. Well, almost. If she hadn't been so relieved she would have boxed his ears, but she only shut her eyes, nestled under his chin and breathed in, and out. When she pulled back she gripped his cheeks and said pointedly,* You, are unbelievable. *She kissed him once.* Did you truly hold a dagger to the bastard's neck and hit him with a candle? Arthur: *Hearing that, even as Sonja tends to one hand, he sticks both fingers into his lips and whistles his approval, loud.* Sonja: *She chuckled, eyes back on Mitchell as she asked curious now,* How did you get the sheriff to sign? Kenneth: *Glancing at Sonja with a smile, he took her hand before they apparated on the spot back to their camp, startled a little to see Leah already there but then again, he wasn't entirely surprised either. Nodding briefly, he let go of Sonja's hand so she could attend to Arthur, he ran a hand through his hair, his own hair thank goodness, before piping up* I'll get you that pint you asked for, mate. Mitchell: *apparating, his smile of relief at having Arthur back only widened as he saw Leah waiting there. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, glad that Arthur had reminded him about the fake bruises on his face, otherwise he would have had to deal with an entirely different welcome. Grinning sheepishly at her pointed remark, he shrugged before he kissed her back, though it was far too short for his liking. Smirk reappearing again, he corrected* It was a candlestick, y'know the fancy metal things? Hector: *He laughed out loudly at that, clapping his hands in appreciation. He might not have gotten to hit anybody, but he was sure glad that his uncle Mitch had been able to. The Sheriff bloody well deserved that and more in his opinion. He rested his head against a tree trunk after sliding down.* Brilliant. Mitchell: *he chuckled before shrugging and answering back simply, if not a bit dryly* Pillow talk. Arthur: *He had nodded grateful to Kenneth, nonchalant as Mitchell and Leah embraced (what else was new?), but he blinked hearing that. His lips flicked amused.* You've been in bed with the sheriff? Leahr: *Smirk appearing on her own lips as she was corrected, she shook her head at him, eyes wide.* M'love? Something you're not telling me? Arthur: *His ears perked up at that: m'love? When had they started admitting it then? He chuckled under his breath - then gasped in pain, distracted by Sonja.* Bloody hell- Sonja: Sorry. *It was small, but unrepentant. The wounds had to be cleaned, they could not be allowed to fester. She was relieved the realize she had been right: someone had been treating him, or there would have been a lot more work to do. Even as she moved her hands over the bruises, rubbing salves and muttering a spell, she kept her eyes on his.* Leahr: *She looked at Arthur a moment with a determined smile - to say he looked bad was an understatement. But she was confused, hesitant to mention his father, wondering why it was he'd have left without him -- had they not told Arthur they had his father? Her brows furrowed. Did she have to tell him then? Heart pounding, dreading the thought of killing his mood, she looked back at Mitchell, deciding she'd wait until Arthur was healed - as healed as he was going to be - and would focus on Mitchell. After the briefest wave to Hector and Ken as well (she grinned, seeing that Kenneth and Sonja were orbiting around each other), her eyes stayed on Mitch.* Well, I think you gave him a concussion. *Another sweet, short, kiss.* ...And I need to talk to you. Mitchell: Something like that *he mused, hiding the disgust and annoyance there had been for having been so close to the sheriff and been able to do nearly nothing except hit him in the back of his head and exchange a few veiled threats.* Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Hector: It's that Stone charm again, eh? *He chuckled before closing his eyes, glad to simply do that, to exhale and breathe in deeply and relax for a moment. Sure, they were still hunted criminals and outlaws, still had to keep watch and worry about being stabbed in the middle of the night...bloody hell, he had totally lost his point.* Kenneth: *Returning back to Arthur with a pint from their stores (they didn't sell everything after all, not what they could use themselves), he handed it to him after hearing him wince in pain and then stayed close, not enough to get in the middle of the healing, but close nonetheless, waving to Leah with amusement, used to the dismissive polite gesture that meant she wanted to spend time alone with Mitch, he didn't blame her.* Mitchell: Good. *A concussion is the least of what that bastard deserved. His eyes flicked to Arthur for a moment in concern before looking back at Leah as she leaned in for another kiss.* Alright, *he grabbed a hand on his cheek and laced his fingers with hers, nodding silently to the gents that they would be going for a walk. Squeezing her hand, wary of what she had to say because it was seldom good news when it was delivered this way, he turned to her after they were well away from the camp.* What is it? Arthur: *As he watched them walk off, his jawline hardened very slightly. He realized: Leah had to know they had his father, and a shot of guilt trailed up his spine. Or- no, that was pain. Perhaps both. Hissing, he put it from his mind thinking hard: the bastard had said noon the second day. He had a day to decide what he would do - as he knew, in his gut, he could never harm a hair on Mitchell's head - and so instead he just took the pint.* Thanks, mate. *He gritted his teeth, but after a swig, found himself amused once more. Sonja was taking his shirt off.* Sweetheart?  *Ah! He gasped, as she pressed harder into the bruise in retaliation.* Sonja: I said I would. *She chuckled under her breath, but remained focused on her task. Raising his arms, she swiftly wrapped cloth around his ribs, eyes narrowed in determination to avoid judgment as she took in the marks, scarlet, maroon, scarred black -- one or two still slowly dribbling blood. Anger in her heart, she shifted closer to Ken as she finished, tying the cloth bandages off. So intent she was, she didn't notice Leah and Mitch leaving. She breathed out in relief, and then put her hand down, reaching to take Ken's again, breathing out.* Allah be praised. Arthur: Oooh, isn't elevating yourself like that haren or something like that? *He took another swig. tilted his head, noticing Hector was going to sleep. Sleep..oh that sounded like a marvelous idea.* Sonja: *amused, she squeezed Ken's hand tighter saying briskly,* Harem? I was thanking him for guiding my hands, and for your health. Arthur: M' health. *That sounded like a joke to him: every muscle ached, every bone felt like it was in the wrong place. He snorted, looking down at the joined hands, unable to help,* So how long has this been going on? *He wiggled an eyebrow over another swig.* Kenneth: Don't push your luck, mate. *He chuckled, though it turned rather forced as his eyes raked over the multiple marks, scars, bruises, and burns as Arthur's shirt was taken off. He pursed his lips again, wondering dimly if there had been a way they could have gotten him out of there sooner, or stopped him from getting taken in the first place.* Next time, I'm standing watch, alright? *He took Sonja's hand and squeezed it, as much offering comfort as he was taking it too. Looking up at the question, he smiled sheepishly, answering simply* A few days. Hector: *murmurs* Been snogging when they thinks nobody lookin' *he snorts, his eyes still closed as he moved around, trying to get more comfortable around his usual spot, .* Kenneth: *ignoring the pink in his cheeks, he rolled his eyes and then asked pointedly* Isn't it past your bedtime already, Hector? Hector: *gives him the finger, his eyes still closed* Sonja: *Leaning back and reaching for water, breathing hard from the effort it seemed to take to focus - all they had just done seemed oddly dim in her mind, as though she had invented it and couldn't remember half the stories. Instead she focused on the slight flush creeping up Kenneth's neck. Lord, she loved englishmen. Grinning and squeezing his hand back, she says simply,* So nosy, Hector. Arthur: *He chuckles, nodding - eyes flitting between the two of them, seeing how they smiled at one another. Yet more coupling off then, well, it wasn't like that wasn't expected. Downing the rest of the pint - good old october ale, about damn time - he tipped his head back and then eyed the space he had been sleeping before. Had it truly only been four days? It felt like a lifetime. Quieting, mind flitting back to Annemarie a moment, he said softer,* Sleep does sound good. *Except it would bring the day faster, and he didn't really want that day to come. But he lifted a smirk to his lips, looking back at Sonja - nodding his gratitude for her spells, salves, poking, prodding - and Ken.* Leave you two lovebirds alone.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 8} outlaw babies

Mitchell: *Sneaking into his room, Mitchell almost snorted as seeing the Sheriff asleep and snoring under silk covers in a canopy bed. Sometimes, the world really was too cruel. Locking the door and taking off his spell, he reached for the dagger hidden in his boot as he walked nearer to the bed. Cutting off a snore, he put his hand over the Sheriff's mouth, and pressed the dagger to his neck. Not the most pleasant of wake up calls, but he could have been far worse.* Hush little sheriff, don't say a word or Mitchell's gonna make sure you never get heard. Benedict: Mph. *The eloquence of his response into a cupped hand was only matched by the jerk in his neck, eyes going wide as he felt metal. Cold, harsh and pricking into his skin. Eyes snapping open, every muscle seized as he realized who it was. Fucki--could his guards do nothing right? They were utterly useless, as apparently, were all of those spells Damocles boasted off. Yet his face contorted with sudden smarm, lifting his hands up into the silk sheets and nodding, nose squishing itself against Stone's palm. Gross. The man stank. Still he smiled, muttering as the hand was half removed, breathy,* Stone, I wasn't expecting you or I'd have put on a pot of tea. *His eyes narrow a tiny bit.* What are you doing here? *He just had to find a way to send an alarm, that was all, not hard.* Mitchell: *He was slow removing the hand, but not the dagger. Even if he could be quick enough to cast a spell, far quicker than the sheriff, he still wanted the leverage there, the pointed and sharp reminder.* Not a big fan of tea, I'm afraid. *His eyes narrowed in revulsion, tilting his head before shrugging* Just fancied a chat, really. How are you doing? Feeling pretty good, yeh? How wonderful *he dug the dagger just the tiniest bit more, his next words clearly sarcastic, laced with restrained rage* I'm sure you've been such a hospitable host to my friend, sheriff. One day I will be sure to return the favor. *he flicked a feather off the sheriff's head as he loosened the dagger, commenting in a forcibly lighter tone.* However, I shall be wanting him back. Benedict: *His nose wrinkled at the remark and then hitched as a feather brushed across it. He was going to sneeze, bloody, and he'd still dig straight into the dagger if he did.* Oh - oh yes, he's been having a grand time. *His eyes narrowed, holding his gaze on to the cold eyes above him. Merlin, the man was a murderer he reminded himself - shoulders tensing. Still he spoke equally sarcastic, and light,* Arthur's gotten to .. shall we say, play with many different toys here. Hasn't just been my guest of course, - *but he was forced to silence by the dagger, and he held his hand higher, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. His voice turned hard and cruel.* Want all you want. You can't take him, Stone. There are a hundred men who would kill you the moment you step out this door. You're a highly anticipated guest, you see. Mitchell: *It was a tribute to his restraint, to his morality that appeared nonexistent to almost all who lived in this court, that he didn't simply just slit the Sheriff's throat right then and there. But unfortunately, he was the better man (it was a mantra by now, it honestly was) and he needed the sheriff alive. He smirked with no amusement before he spoke again.* I've been dodging knights and guards at this court since I was nine years old, Sheriff, have a little more faith. I'm here aren't I? And *he tilted his head as if to strain his ear to listen for a noise* I don't hear that anyone's sounded the alarm. So, yes, I will take Arthur back and you're going to help me. *he used his free hand to grab the piece of parchment out of the inside of his shirt and waved it in front of the Sheriff's face* How good is your penmanship? Benedict: ..yes, you are here. *Why was that, again? His smirk turned a scowl only a moment, thinking through exactly what he would do to the person responsible for it -- when he was distracted by the thought. Nine years old?* Nine? *Though his gaze darted to the parchment waving in his face like a flag, he was not deterred. How could he have possibly been at the court at nine? His eyes narrowed.* My, what a precious age to begin such criminal acts. *His tight swallow brushed the dagger, reminding him that for the moment at least, he was stuck. Still he couldn't help it.* It's almost as though you were born with the inclination. *And who exactly had he been seeing at nine anyway? Looking at the parchment, his face hardened and he exhaled heavily, snapping,* What is that? Mitchell: Impressive, I know. *he shrugged before his eyes narrowed, asking dryly* I only wonder at what age you began to do your own deeds, sheriff. Drowned a puppy by age ten? Tortured your first man on your 15th birthday? Wouldn't surprise me. *He unrolled the parchment with a flick of his wrist and said out loud (not needing to read it for he had wrote it and not willing to take his eyes off the man) "I, Lord Benedict Ricard, Councillor of Defense, styled "sheriff" do hereby order the temporary transfer of the prisoner, Arthur Bridges, from the court's prison to my own holding facilities off-site, with the intent of further questioning on this the sixth day of May in the year of our Lord, Nineteen Oh Four." yadda yadda yadda, you get the point. Aren't I a wonderful forger? See, -my- penmanship, is without flaw. *he dropped the piece of parchment on top of the Sheriff's chest* I just need your signature, the seal on your ring, and I'll leave you to your dreams. By chance, do you dream of me, Sheriff? After all these months of trying to capture me to no avail *he hissed in feign concern and sympathy* So frustrating, isn't it? Benedict: *His frown only deepened with every word out of the mudblood's mouth, Stone's arrogance making him bristle. Did this man think he would succumb that easily, even with a dagger to his throat? Irritated by the truth of his statement - it was frustrating, unbelievably - he muttered through clenched teeth,* Ah, and see here you have delivered yourself to me instead. My father did always advocate patience. *His father had been a fool, a coward but in this matter he seemed apparently right. He glanced at the desk across the room, through the billowing canopy,* Ink and the ring is over there. You'll have to let me up first. *His lips quirked up, head tilting.* Much as I am flattered by your attending my bed, Stone, afraid I am not - uh - keen, on such an inclination. *He was breathing heavier now, the dagger making each inhale and exhale shallow.* Mitchell: Oh Sheriff, you tease. Are you quite sure? *he leaned in closer with a grin on his face, just to make the man uncomfortable before pulling back, loosening the pressure of the blade against his neck.* Please, allow me. *He casted a non-verbal immobulus once the Sheriff had sat up, before he could try anything.* It's not that I don't trust you, Sheriff- no, wait, that's exactly it. I would say not a shout, but you probably have wards up to make sure people don't listen in on private conversations, mmh? *He levitated the man across the room, pulled out the chair for him and everything before lowering him down on it, dagger at his neck again before he lifted the spell, placing the parchment in front of him.* Sign. Benedict: *Disgust colored his face, squirming as the man leaned closer and closer, gut twisted. At least he then pulled back excep--* Ah! *He was being lifted in the air, a hand coming up. He had been leaning for his wand, which clearly the bastard had known. And apparently he was aware of the wards on the room. Smashed into the chair, the silk pajamas fluttering around his ankles, he narrowed his eyes at him, well aware the bruises forming on the back of his legs and elbow now were purposefully. As the spell lifted, he smirked up at him with nothing but cold hatred in his eyes.* You know you're only adding to your list of crimes, Stone. *He picked up the quill, inking it slowly.* You'll never win. *signing slowly, he lifted his other hand slowly, wiggling his fingers to cast a spell to open the door; his cat was already itching to go out, and for a moment he was glad his children had been so insistent they have pets.* Mitchell: At least this crime I actually committed. Gladly, I might add, if it gets my best mate out of your slimy hands. *He pressed the dagger again, not hard, just enough to draw a little bit of blood he spat out.* I haven't got all night. *He snapped his fingers to make the wax drip over the paper, grabbing the ring himself and stamping the seal into the liquid, waiting for it to dry.* That's where you're wrong, Sheriff. Haven't you read the stories? The good guys win at the end. *He looked at the ring with interest before biting the edge* Oh, real gold? Yes, this will do nicely. Think of it as an early birthday present to me, sheriff. *His eyes narrowed again, clicking his tongue.* Tick, tock, tick, tock. Benedict: *Blood dribbling down his neck, splattering red on the black silk his back seized, straightening to edge away from it. The simple hilt -- he narrowed his eyes at it, realizing he recognized the work. It didn't surprise him the animal had stolen a dagger from their blacksmith, but he gritted his teeth refusing to say anything back to him about it, refusing to comment on the blood. Brute. His breath was even as he dropped the signed parchment. Instead he said simply, eyes tracing the tail of his cat as it sipped out the door. He wanted to keep that ring, but at least the alarm would be set. Now he only grinned.*  There's a reason they're called fairytales, Stone. *He tilted his head up to him, grinning like a mad man,* In life the monsters win. Mitchell: Not in my life. *he smirked now out of pure stubbornness, not wanting to let the man get the satisfaction. He rolled up the parchment and stuffed it back inside his shirt.* And so glad we agree on what you are, Sheriff. But even monsters get scared. And me? I'm your worst nightmare. *He swung the candlestick he had gripped across the back of the Sheriff's head, not feeling particularly generous enough to simply stun the man. Smirking in satisfaction as the man's head hit the table, he whispered* Sweet dreams. *turning around, he cursed as he saw the door already open, but he had no time to worry now, if anything it was even more of a reason to hurry. Putting on the disillusionment charm again, he got out of there as quickly as he dared, and headed towards the dungeons, hoping the gang had made their way to it as well.* Arthur: *And all you have to do...* Is betray everything I ever believed in or held dear. *Accenting his words with his chain knocking the back of the man's head, he ripped his arm back and held his hand over the clasp. He hissed, screwing his eyes up and looked skywards, tears pearling in the corners of his eyes before edging. The loud clank let him know the cuff hit the stone near the guards head. Damn shame. Should have hit the bastards head. Well, all right, perhaps it wasn't really his fault, perhaps it was the Sheriffs and truly that little fucker Tyrelion. The man who had come to him - that disgusting little whisper in his ear - and told him...* Dad. *He hurried across the floor, ripping free a shirt and over his head. Hurrying to the opposing cells, he had a hand wrapped around the bars before he hissed again and fell back. His father stirred on the other side as he examined his hands. Scarlet, blood was dripping down his wrist. He watched them dazed, kneeling on the stone and laughing a moment. Of course he couldn't get it free: whatever spell was on that bleeding door was an invention of the-great-Lord-Faye hisself, how could such a lowly muggleborn do it? Oh no wait though, he was an ally, forgot for a moment. He looked at his dad's back, kneeling as he watched him sleep and saying quietly,* I promise I'm gonna get you out of this, Dad. And I'm gonna find Karyn. *Tears were in his eyes, but he reached down his shirt to find the flask, pushing it across the floor to him. At the metal scraping, he heard his father stir and startled himself, eyes dazed: he knew he didn't have much time.* Dad?! *He scrambled forward again, as his father lifted his head and then waved him off. Daniel pushed to kneel in front of him, muttering 'son' and his hand slipped through the bars too. Grateful an instant that whatever the magical bond was, it didn't mean his hand couldn't grasp his fathers, he held tightly nodding. Daniel murmured he was proud, then entreated him to go - go, son - and for an instant he didn't want to, muscles seized with anger, hatred in his heart for the look his father was forced to wear. But he stiffened his lip. He wouldn't let his father seem him that way, and he stood. Fingers sweaty and bloody slipped free only after he clenched his hand in the grasp, and he only stilled when he realized his dad had added he loved him. Shock colored his gaze as he looked down. Damn it - how was he not supposed to tear back up at that?* I know, Pop. *It was quick, gruff and with a small smirk he echoed the sentiment. Then he pulled his hand free, because he had to get out of there. He was across the way and through the door when he nearly collided with Mitchell. Genuine delight lifted his smirk now, lifted under a black eye, sweat dripping off his forehead.* Mitch! *He yanked him into a hug, slapping his hand on his upper back. In that instant, emotion clouded his expression and voice, as he screwed his eyes up, muttering,* 'ts good to see you, mate. *Mitchell was right there. But only he nodded, sick for the thought even existing, even crossing his mind. He couldn't -- he wouldn't. By the time he had released him, the smirk was back, adding in a light-hearted tease only weighted by his bruises, blood and gruff lack of voice,* Thought you migh' not be coming, mate. Had to get m'self out. *He gestured at the guard on the floor, what had been his chain near his head. Shrugging his shoulder, he added lighter,*  Not lack of trust in yer--course not, just I haveta say, they have some terrible liquor here. Mitchell: *Wherever Kenneth, Sonja, and Hector were, Mitchell didn't see them as he made his way to the dungeons. Were all of his plans doomed to fail? He couldn't wait for them right then, though. Sneaking up on the knights keeping guard in front of the dungeon, he knocked them out and searched for the key. So much for walking out of the court smoothly, with no guards on their asses. Taking off the disillusionment, he opened the door and was about to step through it when he saw Arthur about to almost run him over.* Arthur! Mate- *he gripped him tight in the brief hug, letting out an exhale of relief for the worry he had spent days trying to bury. He pulled back and his jaw tightened again seeing the bruises and scratches and God, he didn't want to think about what else his friend had gone through.* Are ye of so little faith? We weren't going to leave you behind, mate. *He chuckled and shook his head incredulously, and almost hugged Arthur again, almost.* We'll open up a bottle as soon as we get to camp, you'll need it for when Sonja attacks you with healing spells. We need to get out of here first. The -plan- was to escort you out of here and no one would be the wiser, but er...whoops. Arthur: Ah righ', yeah. Good job. *It was conversational, teasing as he shut the door shut. The click made his stomach drop out, knowing he was leaving his father down there. Eying the door as his hand lingered on the handle a moment, his bottom lip twisted. He could tell Mitchell now, and he almost did -- almost, except, if there was a way they could get Dad out of that magic cell he'd have done it himself. Well, another way. There was one...but he couldn't be considering that, he just couldn't - his friend was here for Christ's sakes to get him out! Actually, look at the state of him. He blinked seeing his friends appearance, realizing he wasn't the only one of them who was banged up pretty badly and arched an eyebrow.* Leah give you those bruises, mate? *Both eyebrows wiggled, smirking as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, breathing out in relief.* Excellent, mate. *The healing spells were what he truly needed, he'd had enough smuggled liquor, so much he knew he was still partially feeling it's effects. Or perhaps that was the pain. The most recent brand on his side was on fire like a mother--* Mitch, wutch it! *Three guards were hurrying down and oh - he recognized on of them, that Gretta was a right piece of work. He momentarily thought of how Lucille had been the one to kick her out, but shook his head rapidly raising a hand. It felt good to use magic, even if he was terrified how weak it felt.* Sonja: Woah - Arthur! *Jerking to the side with her hand darting to Kenneth's arm, not realizing he'd done the same, that they'd both moved each other out of the way, she exclaimed amused.* So unpleased to see us? *Oh, Lord. To see the state of him, the tattered trousers fluttering over boots that lacked socks were the least of it. The purple tint of bruises cluttered up the (normally handsome, Arthur would want her to say that) face, thin streaks of blood on his wrist that painted the floor and shirt, which untucked was enough to reveal a mess of bruises there as well, and something burning red. She scowled, thinking through what spells she could do, what potions she might be able to find -- she could tell someone had been doing something, there were faded marks and cuts newly healed that she could see -- but it was already clearly a bare minimum. She bit her lip.* Arthur: *His brow furrowed - but an instant he had the answer.* Sonja! Sorry luv. *He winked, then looked at the other two critically.* All right so slow and witless -- *he snapped his fingers looking at Franklin,* -- must be Hector! *He was smirking, hating the twist in his gut seeing the pity on -- well, what would be his friends faces. So he smiled, and laughed under his breath.* And Ken! *He clapped his hands together, rubbing the palms furiously,* Hate to cut your indignation short but, think we could have the reunion party over a pint at the fire? Mitchell: *Honestly, he still had time to go right back up to the Sheriff's chambers and inflict every injury that Arthur had suffered at the hands of these vile vermins (except vermin, especially rat, was too honorable a word for these people.) With any luck though, the Sheriff now had a candlestick shaped dent on the back of his head. Pulled from his thoughts, his brows furrowed in confusion before he realized that he had yet to take off the glamours.* No. She'll give me matching ones if she sees me with these, I reckon. *He passed a hand over his face, wiping it clean. If only it were that easy to heal Arthur's. Turning around suddenly at Arthur's warning and hearing the steps, he prepared himself before realizing who it was that was coming down.* Arthur, wait! Kenneth: Wutch it! *he moved Sonja out of the way only to realize with a small smile that they'd both done it. Looking forward again, he grinned in relief, so glad to see his friend alive, standing, even if he did look like hell.* It's good to see you mate. Hector: Bloody hell, you look like shit. *He could practically feel the glares for the rest of the gang boring holes in his face, but he ignored that. He smirked a moment at how easy it was for Arthur to realize who was who.* Good idea, I'm not sure how long we have left on these potions. Mitchell: So let's get moving. *he took the parchment out of his shirt and handed it to Sonja.* In case we get stopped, I got the signature and seal. I'll follow quietly, disillusioned and we should, -should- be able to just walk out of the front door. Kenneth: *he took the fake cuffs off Mitchell's wrists before heading to Arthur* Sorry, mate, just for a little bit. You're a transferring prisoner after all. *he put the handcuffs on, and waved his hand over them, mumbling a spell to add the dummy chain between the two cuffs* Tug on them hard and they'll give away. Hector: Let's go then, and good riddance to this hell hole. Arthur: *He smirked, breathing hard,* Yeah, and you look like a troll. *Accurate, actually. Franklin's family probably was part troll. He wouldn't be surprised. Then both eyes spread wide seeing the bruises disappear on Mitchell's face, about to mutter Leah would give him the real thing when he was distracted by the unpleasantly familiar clank of metal.* Woah, mate, wait-- *As Kenneth approached him, he held both hands up, bringing his bottom lip into his mouth to suck on the swollen flesh hard. The maroon tracks from the dying drip of blood off his wrists waved. He wasn't keen to put another chain on them.* Sonja: Thank you. *Taking the parchment from Mitchell, she narrowed the woman's blue eyes at him critically. She wanted to ask how. She imagined they all did: how had he possibly escaped the three actual guards, one of whom was a knight, to get the parchment signed? Was the sheriff alive? But these questions would take time, so she cleared her throat and swiveled, murmuring in a kind voice she had a feeling Gretta had never used,* Oh Arthur... Arthur: Nuthing, mate. *He dropped his sleeves to cover them quickly.* Sonja: Come here. *Her voice strict, she had her hands over his wrists in an instant, grip firm. The pad of her thumb dug into the maroon waste, making him 'ah' in pain before sighing in relief as the muttered spell took hold. It wasn't fixing any damage, just numbing the pain - she couldn't do more here, and there was no time. Her nod to Kenneth was brisk.* Arthur: Thanks, doll. *Blissful relief alight in his eyes, a genuine lightheartedness back in his tone - for a moment he forgot what had happened, and what he was told to do. It came back as the fake chains clicked on his wrists, cold and numb. But he said nothing, just looked at Hector and nodded with a grin,* Couldn'ta put it better me self. *They walked briskly down the corridor, passing two serving girls who hurriedly broke eye contact to move by at speed. They came across one guard who looked them over slowly, glaring at the little parchment as Sonja presented it, but he didn't question it. Idiot. Well, all right, Sheriff's own hand and all - how had Mitchell gotten that?- and he probably wouldn't want to risk his displeasure. Never mind the fact he clearly was. Mitch was smug beside him in the fake chains as they were ordered to move on, even with his eyes down. Arthur rolled his eyes.* Sonja: *A cat brushed by her leg, nudging with her tail. Sonja just stared at the creature, having the odd feeling it knew she wasn't who she appeared to be by the gaze, but she shook it off. Arthur appeared to be aiming a kick at the cat, and she pulled on his arm. Hairs prickling on the back of her neck as they walked swiftly, the moonlight lighting their path on the stone through the open windows, a breeze tickling her face. It made her stomach twist with apprehension. It wasn't that far to go, when the sounds of an approach made it clear there were a lot more than just one serving girl. Her pounding heart leaped into her throat, eyes widening - preparing to put Gretta's authoritarian voice back on and extending the parchment, when she realized...Franklin had blond hair, not dirty brunette.* Oh no. *When she spun she realized Gretta's long blond hair didn't spin with her. Her hand flew to her head, patting through her short brunette stubble just as a short man with bloody silk pajamas rounded the corner. He was attended to by the same guards as before, their expressions disgruntled and mean.* Guards! *It was a sharp, loud cry. And even Sonja drew her half-sword, she broke into a run.* Kenneth: *If there was any other way, Kenneth would have chosen that instead of having to put the shackles on his friend. One glimpse at his wrists was enough to turn his previous worry into murderous rage, and he only muttered another sorry as he put them on before setting out. Glancing at Mitchell, hoping for the love of God he hadn't done anything stupid, he moved to his side, Hector taking the opposite and started walking.* Hector: *He was glad to be moving again, hoping that they would meet minimal opposition on their way out. Even if he half wished he could spot Sof, as he hadn't seen her in a few days, he knew it would be best not to. Besides, he didn't want to give her the impression that this mongrel was leering at her. He sneezed suddenly, shaking his head and then glaring as he saw a cat. Bloody hell, was this moron allergic to cats too? As if the itching bollocks weren't bad enough. Actually, now that he was focused on it, he was itching significantly less. Looking up, his face blanched as he saw Sonja's hair turn from the blonde of Gretta to the black and short crop that was her normal appearance.* Bugger. Mitchell: *Shit! Time for plan E-* Run! *He should have hidden the bow on his person somehow, now he only felt naked without it. Snapping his wrists away, he broke the chain easily enough and started running down the hall, dodging spells aimed at their heads and looking over his shoulder to shout a couple of stunning spells at them.* Kenneth: *He skidded to a halt with the others as they saw guards approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Thinking quickly, he raised his hand and spelled the floor in front of the guards to turn slick with oil.* Hector: *Oh it felt good to be himself again, but it didn't feel good to wear armor that was too big for him that weighed him down. A wave vanished the armor. Smirking as he saw the majority of guards slip and sliding, he knew they couldn't linger long. He turned and started running down a side corridor, eyes flicking to Arthur to see how he was managing* Mitchell: *If the alarm had been raised, there would be guards on every entrance. So unless they could fly out of there or dig a tunnel- wait. He looked around, depending on memory and then motioned* Follow me! *He just had to find the right tapestry, and hope the hole was bigger than he remembered. Skidding to a stop again as he exhaled in relief as he reached it, he grabbed on to the frame to slow him to a stop and then pushed the tapestry up, revealing the hole in the wall. Thank you, Leah.* It's gonna be a tight fit but it'll do. Climb up, follow the passage, take two rights and a left and it leads to the training grounds, right near the edge of the forest. Arthur, go up first. Arthur: *Gulping as he saw them, his face seemed to light up, come alive at the prospect they had to run. Only, first things first. Eyes fixed on the balding-sheriff (silk pajamas, how quaint, how much that figured) he lifted his hands and made a show of how heavy these fake chains were. Groaning as if under weight and moaning, he grit his teeth in a maniacal, animal of a glare and then -- rip. The chains snapped of his wrists, falling to the ground. Eyebrows wiggling, he saluted the sheriff, ducked a spell, and took off. Careening through the hallways, blinking as his friends reappeared, clothes changing and shifting he breathed out in relief. It was easier to see their faces. Ducking again as a spell flew over head, his hand raced through his own unruly mop of hair, gaze stuck on Mitchell's back. If he was caught... He felt sick an instant later - actually it was a usual feeling in this damn place - and he only spun to follow the yell, just as it asked. Mitchell was his best mate, he thought, there to risk his life for his - just as all of them were. He came to a stop at the tapestry, unable to help himself,* Not really the time to look at art - nice piece, but - *Oh. There was a way out. He blinked up at it, looking at Mitchell sideways.* Sonja: Leah. *It was a guess, but she figured a shrewd one as she halted her brisk run with heavy breath to stare at their tiny exit hole. Her own armor was gone as well. Gretta was much more gifted in one are than she. Relieved to be herself, she nodded in agreement -- Arthur had to get out first, and spun to hold her hand up to cover him.* Arthur: Ah, right. *It figured. Hoisting himself up, he grit his teeth in expectation of pain, of weight on his arms only to feel none. Blood singing through his veins and head light, the adrenaline rush was a bliss better than Sonja's spell. He was through it quickly, dropping into a crawl space he couldn't figure the purpose for, but only followed Mitchell's instructions.* Sonja: *As soon as Arthur was through, she nodded to Hector, then went through herself. Mitchell was the best fighter of them, she knew, just as she knew he would never put a friend behind him. The comfort did not erase her worry for him as she crawled (nor did she appreciate the view, Arthur wasn't that far ahead of her), but Ken behind her did. When she heard the swish of the tapestry closing, she spun and craned her neck, breathing hard in sudden relief, hearing their assailants run right by. The trek was long and dark, illuminated by a few waves of their hands only. Her knees were aching, the hard stone beneath them deepening bruises she knew would hurt worse later, a stone cutting her hand. But Arthur was out. They were almost there, just a little farther... When she saw moonlight - followed by Arthur hopping up and pulling himself out, she breathed a sigh of relief, even at the quiet. The moon was high in the sky when they pulled out, instantly darting to hide behind a building and breathing harsh. Whatever alarm had gone off, they weren't here yet - did not expect them to be this far, she assumed. She didn't stop running until they were in the trees, brushing dirt from her palm and shaking her head to expel sweat and anxiety in one swish.* Arthur: *Bugger it, really, he had a way out, he'd think of the rest later. When they came to a rest, he leaned his head back against the tree, looked up at the inky sky and thanked Alysa, Leah, and God, prayed for Karyn, praised Mitch, Ken, Hector and Sonja -- all with one joyous,* Whoop! *It was accompanied by a high and hearty laugh, even as it turned into a cough and he rubbed his throat hard. But then he spun around, looking between them, face hardening as he asked,* Is Karyn with you? Hector: Who else? *He responded instead of his uncle before stepping closer, eyeing the hole in the wall critically, and hoping his shoulders would be able to pass through. He didn't want to say anything out loud, but the rest of the guys were a lot leaner than him. He watched Arthur crawl up, knowing that if Arthur weren't so badly injured, they would have made him go first for being the youngest. Keeping an eye out as Sonja and then Kenneth went in, he followed afterwards, wiggling his shoulders pass the crawl space and into the passage...which was just another crawl space really, just a bit bigger* Kenneth: *Before following Sonja in he looked behind him at Mitchell, worry crossing his features immediately knowing that if guards came around around the corner too quickly, Mitchell would rather give all of them a head start and distraction than to follow them. Well, they would just all have to go in quickly then. He hoisted himself and shimmied in, waving his hands to cast a lumos on top of their heads.* Mitchell: *He could hear hurried footsteps growing louder and louder. As Hector went in, Mitch quickly jumped up, sliding in and letting the tapestry fall behind him, but scratching his forehead against the stone as he landed in the passage. He didn't move, waiting with abated breath for any indication that he had been spotted. Exhaling in relief as the footsteps didn't slow and kept going past the tapestry. He followed behind his friends down the passage. It was a long crawl, but they were eventually out in the moonlight, stretching limbs and hiding before breaking out into another run.* Hector: *Overjoyed to be out of that crawl space, he almost skipped through the tears in his happiness and their triumph- they had gotten Arthur out! He was safe now, and they were safe and his balls didn't itch anymore! He laughed under his breath as they stopped, resting his raw hands on his knees as he caught his breath.* Kenneth: *He breathed out in relief, only to have it catch in his throat again as Arthur asked about his sister. He bit his lip before he shook his head slowly.* We don't know where she is, Arthur. No one does: Lucy, Thomas, Merida, none of them. But the sheriff hasn't got her either. Mitchell: We're going to find her, Arthur. *he placed his hand on his shoulder, his words determined.* I promise. She probably saw the guards outside the house that day and decided to go into hiding. *He hoped, he vastly hoped, that that was true.* We thought maybe she had gone to London with your father. Arthur: But- *His head jerked, he looked back over his shoulder towards the rising stone.  But they had his father. He swallowed the words back, jaw tense. He didn't want to think of that. Instead he focused on Karyn; they would have used her against him, they would have told him if they had her. Therefore they did not. Glancing at Mitchell's hand on his shoulder he nodded, breathed out and said quieter instead,* Then we'll just have to find her. And I'm going to wring her neck for worrying me so. *He exhaled with a tiny twist in his lips, grinning back at him- at all of them. Lifting his hand to pull Kenneth into a hug too, it was followed with one offered to Hector -- and then he lifted Sonja up.* Sonja: Wo--Arthur! *But she laughed. She could tell he had cut himself from saying something, that his worry was not gone anymore than his injuries were but he still managed to lift her, arms squished around her metal and brows wiggling up at him. She laughed and gasped and pushed his face back,* It's good to see you too. Arthur: Knew you'd miss me, sweetheart. *with an easier grin* Sonja: Course I did, and call me that again, and you'll see how much. Arthur: *He laughed too.* Touchy. *Nodding, he lowered her, stepping to the side in case of retaliation from Kenneth, looking to Mitchell and saying breathlessly,* I believe I was promised a pint. Sonja: Oh, Arthur. Arthur: Look at that! Not even five minutes back here and already it's oh-arthur again. *looking to Hector, his usual ally* Show me the justice in that. Sonja: *with another chuckle, she just repeats,* Oh, Arthur. *With a tiny headshake.* Arthur: *Breathy, he realized the injuries were beginning to catch up to him as he stayed still and exhaled a wince. But he looked at all of them, adding quieter, much more sincerely,* It really is good to see you all. I.. *His voice cut off a moment, choked on emotion.* I don't know how I can thank you. Kenneth: *He almost asked 'but what?'. Almost asked what still worried Arthur even after being out of that infernal place and knowing he would never have to endure that torture again, if all of them could help it. But he didn't, because in the next he was being pulled in for a hug, and a smile was on his lips again as he clapped Arthur on the back. He even laughed genuinely as he lifted Sonja and teased her endlessly, just like he always did, not a part of him annoyed. Well, maybe a little but it was definitely the minority.* Hector: *Clapping Arthur on the back, relieved to have him back with them, he kissed him noisily on the cheek before he could pull back, grinning wide and laughing again, his relief not wanting to come out in any other way apparently.* Mitchell: *chuckling, he nodded his head as Arthur reminded him about the pint.* You'll get it once we're back at camp. And remember, you can't fuss while Sonja looks you over.* Hector: Women, mate. *he nodded sympathetically at Arthur* From kiss to fist in half a second flat. Kenneth: It's good to see you too, Arthur. *he nodded slowly. He shrugged before adding lightly* Consider it as payment for that one time you stopped Bertha from flogging my rear. We're even. Mitchell: Mate...you would have done it for any of us. *he motioned to all of them* We're our own odd little family here and we're just glad to have you back. *he nodded, looking around to figure out how far they were. He turned to Sonja* Do you think we're past the court's wards? We could apparate back to camp from here. Arthur: *Family. He looked sideways at them, guilt twisting in his gut as he considered it, knowing it was how he felt - always how he'd felt, and yet he kept this from them. But even if they were family - what was his father then? And goddammit where was his sister? He lifted both hands up rubbing over his face, trying not to wince at the bruises as he pressed eyes clear of tears and sweat. He nodded slowly at Mitchell's words, wondering what in the world he was going to do - and was grateful to Kenneth, suddenly chuckling,* Yeah well, least I coulda done Ken. Bertha was being just unfair. *His hands dropped, shrugging a shoulder.* Sonja: *For a moment she thought of it, of this family they had all created: thieves, outlaws, would-be assassins, murderers, and muggleborns all and yet she knew damn well they were the best people she'd met in her life. Her eyes went to Ken with a small smile, as if to assure him she did not see him as her brother, before looking back to Mitchell. After a brief check, she nodded.* Yes, I think so. 

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 6} the outlaw babies

Hector: *This Franklin person who he was impersonating had a really uncomfortable itch in the most sacred of places. Good God in heaven, you would think guards would have better hygiene. Holding on to Mitchell's shoulder as they neared the manor, he started to get antsy for an entirely different reason. He swallowed a lump in his throat and then kicked the back of Mitch's leg, trying to make it look believable.* Mitchell: *he hissed, looking sideways at Hector, wishing he could smack the ear off of his nephew, momentarily forgetting about his supposedly restrained wrists. The original patrol carried with them handcuffs that Leah had told them cut off his ability to use magic, how very clever of them. Kenneth had simply copied the look of them and placed them on his wrists, designed to give away with a sharp tug. He wish he could give Hector a rather sharp tug on his hair at the moment too.* You'll pay for that. Kenneth: Quiet. *It was still odd not to hear his own voice when he spoke out, and thankfully this wouldn't last for more than an hour, well, closer to fifty minutes now he realized as they neared the gate. Glancing at Mitchell out of the corner of his eye, he had a hard time reminding himself that the bruises and cuts on his face and arms were glamoured. Another of Mitchell's "more brilliant ideas", that would have been sure to give Leah a heart attack had she been there to see it. Looking at Sonja now as they neared a set of guards, they all agreed that compared to silent and shy David, and dumb-as-a-troll Franklin, she would be the leader of the patrol, or at least talk for them.* Sonja: *Honestly. One would think considering the gravity of the situation, the terror that Arthur had to be experiencing, the boys beside her would be able to behave. But then one would think that one's last name would not define a person's worth to the world: why must she be always so optimistic? It was not hard to feign her persona - this "Gretta" that supposedly was so discontent and rude- in that instant.* Control yourself. *The crisp, airy British accent was odd to hear as she reprimanded "Franklin", adding simply,* I am sure we will all get a turn. *She did her best to sneer at Mitchell, despite her insides churning at the look of his faked-injuries. It didn't work: sneering was not a talent in her repertoire. Allah be praised they were approached, and she had an excuse to look away and remember herself.* Paul: *As he rounded the corner he stopped, his companions idling at his sides. He heard Gretta first - it was hard to miss that tone - saw Franklin next - equally, it was hard to miss his mass - but only passing glanced over David when he saw who they were accompanied with. Eyes widening, he suddenly restrained himself from breaking into a sprint. Mitchell Stone.* Gretta! *His voice was for once as sharp as hers, eyes stuck on the prisoner. Three months they had been looking for him, only to be shown as a fool time and time again as Stone slipped free and skipped off with their possessions.* You caught- Sonja: Yes. *Act like a bitch, Leah had said, so cutting him off worked. Plus she hadn't wanted to hear what he was about to call Mitchell, whoever he was. She was amused she was addressed, that they had not looked to her male companions. Kenneth had been brilliant to point out she should be in charge, whatever Hector's eye roll.* And we're going to the Sheriff. *She swallowed back at the last minute 'if you don't mind', thinking it would be too polite.* Paul: *Stopping still in front of Mitchell, he frowned at the simple remark with bewilderment on his face,* What happened? Sonja: We'll tell the Sheriff. *snapping it, her arm tightening around Mitchell's.* Paul: *He blinks, looking between the three of them, then shakes his head* You're due to be on patrol-- Sonja: *With only a hint of her anxiety showing,* And look how well we protected the court, hm? *Catching her breath as she realizes his growing aggravation outweighing his relief at what he thought was Mitchell's capture. So she focused,* The Sheriff will want to know. Paul: Yes, he will. *But the Sheriff was asleep. With a woman and a cask of ale, he wagered, though he knew he shouldn't think ill of the man. It was hard not to. slinging his bow back, he looked back to Gretta,* And we'll tell him, while you three- *he casts his gaze between them*- report back to your patrol. Sonja: *angry, though not for the reason he'd think* So you can take our glory? Paul: Glory? *Snapping it, and now he looks away from Mitchell at last, glaring at the woman. Leave it to Gretta to put it that way - he only was surprised she didn't mention the reward.* Was it glorious? *Sarcasm dripping from his tone, his eyes trail over the cuts and bruises the man suffered from.* Depriving a man of liberty? Your glory is the fact that our children sleep safer, nothing further - and you can tell the Sheriff it was your patrol who found him in the morning. Go. Sonja: *Her eyebrows arching with her surprise, she couldn't help but think it was an interesting point of view. Why would this guard...but she couldn't focus on that. About to snap he couldn't order her, it occurred to her this guard wasn't one - he clearly wore the emblem of a knight, as well as the demeanor. Which meant he was one of Damocles', not the Sheriff's, and...could, order Gretta. Her argument was cut off before she opened her mouth,* Paul: Now. Mitchell: *he snorted, nearly forgetting it was Sonja after all. Still, he was Mitchell Stone, he had a reputation and he was a wounded prisoner wasn't he? If he didn't reply back with a smart comment, it wouldn't be accurate.* If you want your way with me Gretta, all you have to do is ask. Kenneth: Shut up, Stone. *he would have rolled his eyes if the other guards weren't in sight by now, might have even hit him too if he thought David would have had the stomach for it without being egged on.* Hector: *All Hector really had to do was smirk and grunt, really. Sneer as well, sneering he could do quite well. His eyes narrowed, almost frowning as they're stopped, trying to appear exasperated and annoyed as "Gretta" was. He looked at Kenneth and Sonja as they were told to head back to patrol, forcing himself not to panic as clearly this was not part of the plan. He hoped his frown came across as one of confusion, and one that was seen on Franklin's face often.* But... Mitchell: *he coughed, his voice sluggish out of practice, not weakness.* Gents, Gretta, I have a better idea: let's just not and say we did. *Once Paul had finally looked away from, he looked towards Kenneth and moved his head down once, quickly, catching his eye.* Kenneth: *He had barely seen it. Barely, but there it was, Mitchell had caught his eye and nodded once. He licked his lips quickly and then spoke up in a timid voice after Paul's order.* Come on Gretta, we don't want to get in trouble. Hector: *Looking at Kenneth and Sonja for a moment, he shoved Mitchell forward abruptly, unkindly, with a mutter of bastard  and Hector knew he was going to pay for that later but he was merely staying in character. He smirked and sneered before heading away with Sonja and Kenneth, cursing under his breath after they were far away enough from the other guards.* Mitchell: *mumbling* Mind the goods, darling. *A prisoner transfer, not a part of the plan. He didn't have time to sulk about it though. As they moved inside, Mitchell had to await the opportune moment. Ironically, these guards were far less rough than Mitchell expected them to be. Poor sods, Mitch almost felt sorry for having to do this to them. Almost. Snapping free of his cuffs, he used the momemtum to aim a stupefy at the two guards next to him, having to kick the leader forward to earn himself another moment to stun him as well. He exhaled, looking around quickly before attaching the bodies to the ceiling. He couldn't risk opening a door and hoping it was a cupboard instead of a packed drawing room. Hopefully nobody looked up...no, that was a risk he couldn't take, so he disillusioned the men too. Turning around after placing another disillusionment charm on himself, he headed towards the Sheriff's quarters, remembering where Leah had said they were at.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 4} mitchell, hector, kenneth, sonja, leah

Mitchell: *huddled up together* Right! So here's the plan- Kenneth: Is this the real plan? Mitchell: Of course, why- Hector: Because the last eight plans have been stupid. Mitchell: Well this one isn't! *he takes three vials out his pocket* Hector: *he narrows his eyes* Whut's that? Mitchell: This, my friends, is our ticket into the manor. This is polyjuice potion. Kenneth: *he ahhs in comprehension, nodding his head, a little apprehensive about whatever plan Mitchell had concocted, but still undoubtably curious and anxious* Hector: *frowning* whut in the bloody hell is polyjuice potion? Sonja: *Snip! She cut off the end of the twine, moving the little wood knife through the edge of her bow to keep her hands busy. She giggled at Ken's remark--a single chuckle under her breath, and then looked up at the last question, relieved that whatever the plan was, it involved some kind of actual forethought. Though, she had no idea what polyjuice was.* ...From Leah? *gesturing at it with her hilt* Leah: Yes. *Shoving the monkey necklace back down her front, two seconds from having landed, and tossing three more vials at Mitchell.* Three hairs. Sonja: Hairs? *forced to wait as Leah leans down and seems to kiss Mitchell with a sudden ferocity.* Leah: *rubbing her lips as she pulled back, and blinks at Sonja's question* For the --hello Ken, Hector, not a word on the greeting honey-- for the potions...? Mitchell: *he was about to answer when Leah popped up, answering for him. Catching the vials, he nodded* Hairs- *he leaned up to kiss her back, cupping her cheek* Hector: *looks between Mitchell and Leah, still confused, rolling his eyes as they start snogging, speaking up anyways* Hold on, hold on- I'm not drinking nuthing with no one's hair in it- Kenneth: *bemused, simply waves a hand at Leah as she says hello and then explains, turning to Hector and Sonja and explaining* Polyjuice potion allows the drinker to take the appearance of another, whoever the hair belongs to. Hector: I don't want to look like some old codger! Mitchell: *rolls eyes* It's temporary, see these hairs belong to one of the sheriff's patrols. While they're out, we go in. Kenneth: But...there's only three. Hector: I volunteer to not take it! Mitchell: *he rolls his eyes again* Well, that's the thing, you three take the potion, and either I sneak in disillusioned -or-...you know, arrest me. Kenneth: what?! Mitchell: yes, but instead take me to -the sheriff- and then I can get a signature out of him. we need him to sign for the temporary transfer of Arthur, then we knock him out, head to the dungeons and get Arthur out of there. Leah: *Her hand slides down Mitchell's arm to tightly grasp his wrist and tangled her fingers with his. She had not told him yet Damocles knew--nor what had transpired with her father--but was more than content to simply grasp him tighter.* ...Arrest you!? Mitch-- Sonja: It will make the Sheriff come running, true. *She did not mean to truly cut Leah off. Arthur had been in a cell four days now, she refused to let it be a single day longer.* Leah: Well, yes, but. *Her nose wrinkles.* ...what do I do with the three guards you're impersonating? Sonja: *lightly, a shoulder shrugging* Lock them in Arthur's place? *eying the potion warily* How long is temporary? Leah: *For merlinssakes she liked this less every minute.* One hour.Mitchell: *squeezing Leah's hand tightly without looking away from his friends. For the most part, they all seemed to follow his plan.* Kenneth: *he smirked a moment at Sonja's suggestion of what to do with the guards; he couldn't help but agree.* Or you could tell us their patrol route and we can intercept them, knock them out. Hector: Now -that- I will gladly do *he nodded his head only to wrinkle his nose.* An hour? Does it have to be that long? Mitchell: An hour is cutting it close, Hector. *he turned to Leah, squeezing her hand again* Were you able to get Damocles' signature? Kenneth: We need his too? Mitchell: Not necessarily, but if it turns out to be Damocles' men guarding the cells instead of the Sheriff's then we might run into a bit of a problem. Hector: Then why don't we just escort you to the dungeon to begin with? Mitchell: Because we need them to hand us the key or Arthur personally, not take me and throw me in the bloody cell next to him and tell you to get lost. We can't afford to fight our way out, we need to walk out. So! Unless anyone has a better plan, I'm not letting Arthur stay in that place another day. Leah: *Her dress caught on the tree as she squeezed Mitchell's hand back, heart in her throat and she nods* Yes, I was. *She reaches into her bodice again, brushing against her charm and flask almost for comfort and hands him the little scroll. She holds Mitchell's gaze and says under her breath,* He gave it freely when I asked, actually. Sonja: *Sidelong glance to Kenneth interrupted by that, she swivels around in agreement.* No, this is as best as I think it will get. I won't leave him there either. *Her brows furrow, asking Leah with a sweet smile,* One of the guards is female? Leah: *grateful the question wasn't on Damocles' cooperation, she grins a bit* Ah, yes actually. Gretta is the patrol...she's a piece of work. Can you act like...*pause* Sonja: *easily* A bitch? Leah: *tiny grin* Yes, exactly honestly.Mitchell: *he took the scroll, smirking momentarily at where she took it from, but her next revelation caused him to raise his eyebrows* ...he did? Kenneth: *Damocles Faye signed his name on a piece of parchment without asking any questions? Odd. Sonja seemed to think so too, if the look they shared said anything.* Hector: *he exhales, accepting that he was going to have to look like a stupid sot for an hour. The things he did for Arthur, honestly. He smirked.* I think Sonja can pull it off. Who am I imitating? Leah: *She presses her lips together, gaze flicking between the three of them,* Sonja: Oi, Hector. *She arches an eyebrow at him amused.* How much you appreciate me, hm? Leah: *she giggles before saying quickly,* Hector...I don't know, that one *pointing* is for Franklin, who speaks about four words I believe-- Sonja: *playful, sheathing the dagger* Perfect. Leah: Then...Ken, that leaves you with David. *Her eyes are back on Mitchell.* He did, yes. *tiny bit pleading* He is my Uncle...and he's not as suspicious when I'm...*under her breath*up front with him. Hector: *he gasps* 'm just saying! I have faith in your skills of deceit and manipulation. Kenneth: *he snorts, shaking his head* Are you trying to compliment her? Hector: Of course, whut else? Kenneth: *he chuckles and teases, looking at Mitchell too* That Stone charm. Mitchell: *he chuckled but didn't say anything against it...it was honestly quite true.* Hector: I can't act like a brainless oaf, no problem *grins* Kenneth: *he smirks, amused before he nodded, knowing of David- he almost seemed not to want to catch them most of the time.* No problem. Mitchell: *looking back at Leah, he couldn't help but to think that there was something else she was keeping but didn't press it right at that moment.* Alright, now all we have to do is wait for them to start their patrol. Sonja: *laughing, she's inherently reminded of Arthur at the poorly pronounced hilarious and oddly flattering remark. There's a clutch in her chest, but she shakes her head,* Thank you, Hector. I will do my utmost to live down to those standards. *She winks.* Leah: Ahh, Stone charm. *Her lips flick up, eyes still on Mitchell's, for her heart was beating very fast.* What woman could resist? Sonja: *snorts, but remarks teasingly--eyes still on Ken* What woman could? Leah: *nods* They start out the south gate towards the forest once the sun sets, walk a mile in to the forest off the road east, *slowly, feeling odd revealing direct routes, knowing how closely guarded a secret Derrick kept them,* round around, come back on the west and switch off before the moon is quarter high. Should give you three hours...moment the sun sets you can intercept them there. *She scrunches her eyes looking beneath a flat palm towards the low sun and nods once more.* You have a half an hour I'd guess. *Her eyes flick back to Mitchell and --eager to get off the subject of Damocles, asks a bit lighter,* You met with Rick and Luce? Jane mentioned... Hector: Aha! Live down- nice one! *grins and nods* Mitchell: *he chuckles again, voice dropping to a whisper as he commented to Leah* Obviously not you, love. Kenneth: *grinning despite everything, he winked as Sonja spoke before turning to listen as Leah explained* Shouldn't we wait until they're a little deeper in the forest though? We can't exactly come back ten minutes after they've left. Mitchell: He's right, in any case, polyjuice only lasts for an hour...a good knock out jinx...depends on the caster. Hector: So let's hit 'em all with four to make sure. Kenneth: No that could kill 'em...one's enough, one -good- one. Hector: Whut chu trying to say? Mitchell: *he looks up at the sun, nodding at the time and then wrinkles his nose* Unfortunately. Could have appreciated a heads up. Leah. Hector. Hector: I forgot! Been a bit preoccupied, haven't we? Leah: *Her smile widens a moment as she looks at him with his whisper, lifting a shoulder to murmur back while tucking a loose brunette curl,* Evidently not. You wore me down eventually, love. *Lord, please let the incessant blushing whenever he looks at her with that little smirk go away. She knew it had been only four days, that she ought to give herself time considering what they had done, but merlin her heart was racing, her skin on fire and oh did she --want--* Sonja: *She had lifted a hand to high-five Hector with a grin, and now spun back to Ken, nodding in agreement slowly.* Yes. And that gives us more time to set up. *brow furrows, looking at Hector, amused* And we could practice the stunners? Leah: *with the tiniest giggle, thumb absently rubbing a circle on his wrist,* I thought you knew! It wasn't particularly a secret anymore when he walked into town and snogged her? Mitchell: *he only smirked, as he looked forward, nodding with the suggestion of having more time to set up and practice.* Hector: *high fives Sonja, grinning wide, both excited about having a plan and nervous...their plans never seemed to work.* I don't need no practice. Kenneth: Oh, I don't know, there's no such thing as too much practice, especially for you. *he smiles, though it was practiced, forced. He was anxious to start this already, they needed to get Arthur out -yesterday-, the day before really.* Mitchell: *he wrinkles* I don't want to picture them snogging, Leah, I may vomit. Leah: *Well, that seemed to do it. As his smirk flicked up smug and irritation settled in her stomach, her blush receded, she was sure of it. Oh, Mitchell.* Sonja: *amused* There's no shame in practicing, Hector. Leah: There is however, much temptation and cause to take the mickey out on you if you miss later. *wiggles an eyebrow* Sonja: *looking curiously at Mitchell's remark, and looks at Ken to ask a bit quieter,* Luce and Rick? Is that...Lucy in town? Leah: Mitchell, I'm telling you if you didn't see them snogging that day, they were behaving. *she cocks an eyebrow, shrugging a shoulder, saying a bit quieter* I'm glad, really, means I do have one relative who wholeheartedly understands my...position. Hector: Yeh, yeh alright alright. *he waves his hand at them, rolling his eyes before smirking* So who am I stunning then? Ladies first? Kenneth: *hits his shoulder* Don't be a prat, Hector. *he turns back to Sonja and nods* Yeah, Lucy from town, our friend. We love her like a sister really. Mitchell: *No, but they were all touchy and the glances spoke volumes.* I suppose...are you gon' tell him about us? He...well, he knows about almost everything, 'cept for your involvement. Sonja: *she smiles as Ken hits him, unperturbed,* Oh, and she's...with this Rick then? Leah: *she grins* My first cousin. Sonja: *She chuckles, raising her hand and pointing it at him,* Excellent. So, I'm practicing first? Such a gentleman, Hector.  Leah: *Her eyes widen a bit* Everything? *She blinks, breath hurried before she squeezes his hand again, raising a hand to lift her necklace out--knowing it was the one thing they hadn't even told the gang, glancing at the bracelet on his wrist and looking up at him, asking wordlessly before adding,* I guess I better had then. At least...most everything, but I imagine he'll remark about his predilection to regurgitation over such details too. *Oh, but they're so different. Leah giggles.* Kenneth: Yeah, apparently. *he shrugged, he didn't really feel any way about it. He trusted Lucy's judgement.* Hector: Hey, hey *he brings his hand up as well* Fair fight, fair fight! Mitchell: Well, not everything *he corrected himself quickly, watching her grow nervous, squeezing her hand back.* Predilection to regurgitation? *he mocked, snorting before teasing* what are you, a noble? Sonja: *she laughs again shifting her stance and keeping both arms up, nodding* All right, all right, count of three then. One, two-- Leah: *ignoring this except for a wary eye in case they wound each other before they get the chance to go to Arthur, and then swivels hearing Mitchell, wrinkling her nose and punching his shoulder (though all without releasing his hand)* By birth, not by choice. *exhale, equally mocking* Need me to define the words, do you?

[fycourtera]

{chapter seventeen: 6} sofya/hector

Hector: *He was going to miss baths. It was an odd sentiment, given that there were so many other aspects of his life that he should be focusing on instead, but it was just something he had picked up on during the week he had spent with the lads. Well, the lads and Sonja but she was more of an honorary lad. He thought he got dirty and gritty working at the smith, but this was a different kind of unclean. It was a bit funny, he never thought he cared about hygiene. Mia's need for cleanliness and orderliness must have rubbed off on him at the exact wrong time. And if even he couldn't stand his own smell, he wasn't going to make Sof sit through it. He had left earlier so he could wash off at the river by the spot they had agreed to meet, and yes, because he wanted to make sure he didn't lose his way given that it was the middle of the night. His uncle Mitchell had tried to talk him out of it only once, which surprised Hector considering how often he was suggesting to him to run away to Ireland and go live with Carina and her husband. What a load of bollocks. As if Hector would leave now, no! He'd help the lads get justice, clear their name, take revenge and then after it was all done, well...he'd assume he'd have to beg for mercy. He wasn't used to being on his knees, though. The river wasn't too deep, not at that spot, so he couldn't submerge entirely, but that wasn't really necessary, he just needed to wash the excess dirt off. Cupping his hands together to splash water on his face, he tried not to let his thoughts stray towards that horrible night a week ago. It was always there, creeping up on him every time he closed his eyes. The first night he didn't sleep a wink, and the second he woke up from a nightmare covered in sweat. None of them had teased him about it, just clapped him on the shoulder and gave him breakfast; they had all gone through it he realized. What a lot they all made. Hector walked out of the river once he felt a bit more clean and headed over to where he had placed his clothes, his hammer, and his sword. The sword he was training with again. He was pleased to find out that aside from his uncle, he could best the lot of them with a sword. Must have come from working as a blacksmith's apprentice. He remembered the times fondly, as if he'd lived them over half a century ago. That's why he always carried his hammer around too- hammer on his back, sword at his waist. He dried off quickly, though un-thoroughly, using his own shirt before beginning to dress. He had only managed to lace up his trousers when he heard hoofbeats. God, he really hoped that was Sof, otherwise he'd be in a load of trouble. Thankfully, it was. Grinning wide at her, the shirt lay forgotten for the moment* I was starting to think you wouldn't come. *Not really, but that sounded a lot better than 'hey'* Sofya: *It had not been an easy week for anyone in England, she assumed, but Sofya had spent the first half of the week attending to her mother and trying not to think about Hector and the other outlaws, and the second half of the week helping Adelina and actively thinking about Hector, having given up. It wasn't supposed to have been difficult to slip out, when her father had been at the court all day, and her mother had been falling asleep at eight chockful of medicine she swore she didn't need. Of course, she had not counted on the fact that Ron was staying at home now, not at court with the lads. Three guesses why that was--oh, no wait, she only needed one. Humming the only six notes from 'Carmen' she knew as she trotted Sable through the forest, she suppressed a giggle at the thought. She wasn't really upset over that of course: Carmen was really a lovely, charming person she absolutely needed to spend more time with. Maybe that would be easier if her brother would stop commandeering all of it. Her lips twitched. Yet she was frustrated he had spotted her on the way to the stables and proceeded to ask why she was wearing a silk dress to go riding in. It was a fair question. Probably a more fair question would be why she was wearing a silk dress to go into the forest in, and of course that discounted the fact she was meeting an outlaw, but she had managed to convince him she just hadn't felt like changing. Thank God her brother had not noticed she had changed silk gowns--thank God his eyes were stuck on Carmen whenever she was in the room. Three times she had changed, to be precise, and as she approached the river, she was delighted to see she was not alone in this. Momentarily stifled to see him shirtless, she turned her head to insure her cheeks didn't flush as brightly pink as they felt warm and exhaled. Oh, damn him too. Spinning around only when she was sure she could smile at him without being the color of a rose, she chuckled as she dismounted and shook her head.* Are you admitting to a moment of doubt, Hector? *Her lips flick.* How humble of you. *She couldn't help her eyes from trailing down his chest, but she made them jump back to hold his own a moment later, untying her own cloak: it was warm.* I am glad to see you. Hector: *Well, he hadn't expected for her to turn up in a silk dress but he couldn't say that he didn't enjoy the view. He was exceptionally glad that he had decided to wash then. He was also exceptionally pleased when he noticed her eyes trail over his chest. He certainly wasn't putting on the shirt though, was he? No reason not to show off the fruit of his labors. He grinned and then shrugged in exaggeration, taking a step towards her as she stepped off her horse.* I 'ave a couple of humble moments here and there. *his lips twitch before he grins and then nods* It's good to see you too. *He didn't notice how incredibly honest that sounded like, otherwise he might have actually taken some time to he embarrassed about it. Instead, he only smiled wide, easier than he had since he had last seen her to say the truth. Or think the truth. Well, he might as well just say it out loud then.* I thought about you. A lot. *He was behaving a lot more honestly than usual, so he felt the need to add a joke; jokes were always good right?* Just letting you know that it's okay to admit you were doing the same about me. *He nodded, grinning again* Sofya: *Her smile spreading in delight, she immediately teased as he seemed to puff up his chest,* I didn't exactly expect to see so much of you, but I can't complain. Though you should know, it is very improper. *She winked, as she tied Sable off to the tree -- reaching into the saddle bag to fetch a snack for him and take the bit from his mouth -- there was no reason he should have to be uncomfortable now. Glad she could still see despite the lateness of the hour, she realized the moon above was near full. Tucking red behind her ear, she grinned with genuine happiness -- he had?-- at the remark, nodding before laughing.* Hmm. I might have thought about you. Once or twice. *Or the entire week, but did she have to reveal that? Her lips flicked again, now drawing off Sable's back snacks for them, saying lightly,* I brought a few things to eat. I ... thought you might be hungry, so. *She held the basket, and then lowered it as she realized the cork on the bottle of wine was visible and just grinned at him.* Hector: *he scoffed, and he would have crossed his arms in front of his chest but that would mean covering it up and why should he when she was clearly enjoying the sight of it?* I'd say you crave a little improper in your life, really. *It's true. Otherwise why would she be here? Actually, he could take it back a lot farther than that. Otherwise why would she have kissed him? Come looking for him to see if he was alright? Dance with him? Not sell him out to her uncle on the day of the robbery? Though, she had slapped and teased him, so he supposed there was some sort of balance there.* Oh? Only, once or twice? *he sniffs* I'm insulted. *Haa, as if he could be really. Grinning softly as he saw her take a basket out* You kidding? I'm always hungry. *he chuckled and then wiggled his eyebrows as he saw the wine bottle* Incredibly thirsty too. *He stepped closer to her, grinning* You didn't have to, you know. Sofya: Impropriety. Crave a little impro--never mind. *She spent too much time with her mother, clearly. To think she was now correcting his grammar-- as if she didn't like the rough, honest way he spoke, as if she didn't prefer it, the thought made her blush. She waved her hand, brightening at the thought and admitting,* I may. I never realized I did before, but. *She was there, was she not? Though she thought that was more...well, she liked him, he made her laugh, and after everything he'd gone through...she couldn't say why exactly, she just wanted to be there for him. She didn't think on this too much. Her lips flick again.* I am sure. *He wasn't insulted in the slightest. Of course, he also clearly knew she had lied. Smile softening as he continued she took a few steps towards him, opening the basket and pulling out the blanket first--because of course she brought a blanket, it was silk.* I know. I wanted to. *She looks back up.* Just like I wanted to come. Even if technically...*She presses her lips together, asking hesitantly,* Have you..I don't know what you know about the new security measures. *She bites her lip together.* So called. They frankly beg defiance. *In her opinion, for it bothered her incredibly how much others were not only following them, but pleased by them at court.* Hector: *he waves her correction off* You know what I meant. *The correcting might have grown to be annoying for some but Hector was rather glad just to have her for company. Though, that didn't mean he wouldn't start getting annoyed if she were to make it a habit. It's not like he didn't know the proper way, he just chose to ignore it because his way was faster. His eyebrows raised as she took out a blanket made from the same, or similar, material her dress was made out of he was sure. It looked so fragile. He rubbed the blanket between two fingers, marveling at how soft it was. He looked back up at her and then frowned at the reminder, nodding his head to show he knew what she was referring to* I know enough. *But that he didn't want to focus on, so instead he grinned* So not only do you crave -impropriety-, you're indulging in a little law-breaking as well. *he smirks* Does that red hair just fill you with a fire you can't snuff out? Sofya: *Pausing as she watches him take a corner of the blanket, she said calmly,* You could keep this too really. *She had plenty of blankets on her bed -- too many, in truth, considering it was getting warmer every day, and while not as comfortable as a mattress, there had to be something she could do to help. Taking the corner herself and setting the basket down, she nodded at him to step back so they could lay the blanket out so they could sit. Chuckling at his question, she looked back up at him.* That might be the case actually. I haven't settled since I learned to walk. *She shakes her head back to shake the hair out--she couldn't help it, she was proud of it, and then grinned again.* If I remember right, *she winked* we're meant to learn new things about each other, Hector Stone, blacksmith's apprentice. *Her lips flicked.* And considering how we met, you already knew I wasn't exactly adverse to a little law-breaking. *She dropped her hand and looked at him stubbornly, going to sit on the blanket once she'd put the basket on it, asking casually,* So...what is your favorite hobby? Besides turning weapons to acorns. *She wiggled her brows at him.* Hector: *He smiled and shook his head* Oh no, I couldn't. Anything this fine deserves more than a dirty grim forest. *he chuckles and then wrinkles his nose* It could actually rip pretty easily too. *He stepped back when she urged, placing the blanket down on the ground, not being able to tear his gaze away from her for too long. Laughing once as she shook out her hair, he really did love that hair, his lips twitched and then he nodded* Fair enough. *he goes to sit down when she does, grinning at her tease* Well, I like playing cards. It's a Stone thing, you see. But I do, or well I did, spend a lot of the time at the forge even when i weren't being paid. *he shrugs* It's fun. Bring my hammer with me everywhere. *his lips twitch and he gestures to it sitting against the tree* My real hammer too. *he grins* What about yours? *teasing* Brushing your hair? Sofya: *She chuckles, a wide smile crossing her lips and she shakes her head, lifting a corner of the blanket and pulling it between her thumb and forefinger, saying easily* It has an unbreakable charm. But all right. *Dropping it, she laid her legs out, brushing the skirt over them and leaned back on her hands, smile flicking up* Cards? Really? I love playing cards. Although I'm a bit more partial to .. well, horse racing, in the gambling arena. *She follows his gaze for only a moment, taking the opportunity as he looks away from her to look at him again and then meets his gaze when he turns back, lips pressed in a coy, 'aha how funny are you' smirk* It's impressive. *She nods at the hammer, and teases* No...is your other hobby not wearing a shirt? *Okay, she actually did like brushing her hair, and braiding it, and finding new styles with it but it wasn't like it was her -favorite- hobby. She paused, thinking and said slowly,* Well, besides horseback riding...I like drawing. I'm nowhere near as good a painter as my aunt, but sketching I'm not half bad at. Hector: *Of course it did. He wondered why he was so surprised about it, actually. He grinned as she admitted to love playing cards as well. He knew there was a less superficial reason for why he liked her. Granted, he wouldn't say that out loud.* Gambling on horse races? *he wiggles his eyebrows* That's ladylike. *he grins and then wiggles his eyebrows at her own joke and then sniffs, turning his nose up in the air* And if it is? *It wasn't, obviously, but it was a joke. He smiled* Wicked. Sketch anything you're immensely proud of? Sofya: *Wiggling an eyebrow, she nods with a shrug.* True. I usually have to get my brother to bring me to bet with him. *Her lips flick* But after I was proven right in two races in a row, the boys stopped griping about my being there and started craving my advice...can you imagine? *She grinned as he sniffed and shrugged a shoulder, saying innocently,* Nothing, I can't say I don't approve. *Her lips flick, adding* Though you really are making the word ostentatious apply to you more and more. *Her smile softens and she reaches for the basket, going to pull out the plates (and napkins, just because it was a picnic at midnight didn't mean she had to forgo all manners) before the cheese and bread. She chuckled.* Sable. But I bet you could have guessed that. *Her lips twitch.* What about you--particularly memorable Stone family card-playing victory? Hector: I'm shocked. *He chuckled, wondering briefly what going to a horse race would be like. Can't imagine it would smell very pleasantly. The stables were a right stench all the time. He didn't know how Lucy put up with it.* You taught me what that word means before, I know it, don't tell me *he snapped his fingers, trying to recall the definition of the word.* Something something...it means I'm being an obnoxious prat. *That was probably it. His lips flicked as she took out utensils. Wow, he hadn't used a napkin in...well, best not to say. He didn't have sleeves to use anyways, so. He tore off a piece of bread and took a bite, wondering how it managed to stay so warm. He chuckled after he swallowed and nodded* I had a feeling, eh. Well, it was recently really. Nearly all of us got together at my grandparents' house when we met Alec and Blair. And we got to just me and my aunt Beatrice, everyone else folded, and then she revealed it: a straight in diamonds. -Everyone- thought I was going to lose and then just like that I throw my cards down: royal flush. *he grins at the memory* You know I never did get all that money....we were already starting to get drunk, so. *his lips twitch* Sofya: *She chuckles as he starts trying to remember, nodding at his conclusion.* Well, blunt, forward, presumptuous, utterly without shame..*Nodding with each word as she pops a piece of cheese in her mouth, she chuckles as he continues. Oh, of course, Alec and Blair...she'd only met them once, and was more amused with her father teasing Uncle Damocles that they were 'kind of' his children too considering he had loved Rowland. Honestly, she wished she could have met Rowland, considering how often he, Aunt Maeve and even Aunt Abira mentioned him ----but she tuned back into the story, more focused on Hector now. Beaming, she laughed out as he said he had a royal flush, and she shook her head.* That's insane. I think I have seen one royal flush in my life. Not counting the time Ronald cheated of course, made me think I had it legitimately and then confessed he actually had one too because he'd arranged them that way. *She wrinkled her nose, and then chuckles.* Leigh was more upset though, somehow he'd actually been dealt a full house and probably would have won if Ron hadn't been messing around. *She grins and then holds up her hand at his last remark.* Ah, speaking of drinks...*She pulls out the bottle of wine, saying apologetically,* It was the only thing I could steal, so... Hector: *He tilted his head and then he nodded, liking the sound of that very much. Yes, that was him. He grinned at her laugh, rather liking it and nodded* Yeah, I've never had one in my life before then. Probably never will again. *He chuckled and then listened to her own story, laughing once* I'd be mad too! Card games are no joke, you know. *He smirked as she brought out the bottle, popping another piece of bread in his mouth.* Don't apologize. It's probably fancier than anything I'll ever have. *he grins and then taps the bottle twice to make the cork pop out, laughing once* Party trick. Brought glasses or no? Sofya: *Giggling again, she presses her hand over her heart and nods a solemn vow,* Oh, I told Ron so, made him swear never to do anything of the sort again. *She grins remembering the rest of the story,* And then he got up to get us drinks, and when he came back he had been dealt a straight in hearts, and he was convinced Leigh had put it there, so he started saying how 'oh no. no, stop messing with me.', and laid it down and insisted we deal again. Of course, we hadn't done that to him, he just gave away a straight... *Hearing that she chuckled only once and said lightly,* Well, actually I was apologizing it wasn't liquor. *Her wink became a rapid blink as she watched the cork fly out, and brightened instantly.* How did you do that? *Remembering briefly what Leah had said once, about muggleborns being actually more accomplished at magic by now because they did it wandlessly, she nodded and took out the wine glasses, eyes still fixed on his.* Seriously though- *She held the glass out for him to pour,* How did you do that?! Hector: *he laughs heartily* Good! Serves him right, really. *he nodded, thinking about his own family members back in simpler times. Hard to believe that had only been a week ago. *He smirked, 'ahhing' in understanding, his lips twisting* Well, got plenty of that already. *His smirk softened as she seemed impressed with his spellwork and then chuckled, pouring the wine into the glass and then shrugging, answering easily * I concentrated. Sofya: *Laughing, she nods.* I thought it did. *As she laughs, her mouth opens, her tongue flicks across her bottom lip and she pops another piece of cheese in: truthfully, she wasn't that hungry, but she wasn't going to pass up on either bread cheese and wine, nor the opportunity to bring the outlaws something to eat.* Oh do you? *Amused, she tilts her head at him, asking teasingly* And who exactly is bringing you liquor? Who should I know is also visiting you? *Taking the glass from him, she takes a brief, ladylike sip, the rich taste of grapes still not perfectly to her liking, but it was warm and wet her dry throat.* You concentrated. I wish I could concentrate like that. Hector: *he chuckles, shaking his head* No, no one visits little old me. *His lips twitched at the technical truth of his words; if anything Leah visited Mitchell above all* Well, except you of course. *he winked and began to pour himself a glass, though really the bottle would have sufficed* The lads...acquired it. *Nicked it, during the ball actually, well, before things turned to shit. He picked up his glass and took a lengthier sip than hers, watching her mouth for a small moment* You could, if you practiced. *he grins again, shrugging* But I suspect you'd have gotten used to your wand by this time. Sofya: *About to tease 'so she was 'no-one' hm,' she only grinned as he corrected himself. Actually quite pleased with the response selfishly, she still said gentler, teasingly,* Oh..well then I suppose I shall just have to come more often, insure you don't get lonely. *Setting her glass on her knee, she was careful not to spill over her dress, and said amused,* Well, we were just starting wandless magic when I came home...I could try. I wouldn't mind being less reliant on my wand. *She shrugged a shoulder.* Even if it 'does' supposed offer more control and everything. *But she paused at saying that, realizing the 'everything' part was actually inclusive with what they would sometimes say of muggleborns: that they had no control over their magic. Except clearly Hector had more control than she did, and well, weren't they the ones refusing them wands? She pursed her lips, realizing the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to help all of them, not just Hector. Although admittedly, at that moment...her mind was on Hector.* Hector: *The thought of her visiting him for more often made him actually quite happy, despite knowing she was teasing. Besides, he knew she shouldn't that something could go wrong, that she could get caught or followed and whoops, there went his neck if it did happen. So instead he simply replied* Well, I definitely won't complain. *he put a slice of cheese in his mouth instead, having to hold back a snort, and he hadn't been too successful.* Control is learned too. I guess it's a just a little more...explosive, I suppose. *he shrugs and then smiles* So, I remember I was going to tell you about being born of the dragon. Sofya: *A genuine soft smile flit across her lips as she saw how happy the thought of her coming again had made him for the split second he let it show.* Explosive? *She grinned, an eyebrow arching skeptically* Are you sure you're not just saying that to impress me? *Reaching for the bread and wiping her hands off, over the ground so as not to splatter dress of blanket with crumbs, she laughs and nods.* Yeah, that's right, you did. Did it have anything to do with the dragon that attacked the town? I still think this is an odd thing to say about your mother, but. *She wiggled her eyebrows*