Nasgatei was visibly uncomfortable as they walked along the rainy streets of London, their fiery eyes scanning their environment and the people they passed. Dressed in the nicest suit they’d been able to afford with their limited funds, their head was bowed, their dark hair carefully combed to hide their pointed ears. Not much to be done about their scars, but that was something they would just have to accept.
It was strange, being in the country from where their mother hailed. Part of them had entertained the idea of trying to find any relatives they may have, if there were any left, but they’d quickly decided against it. Whoever remained of the Beringer family weren’t any family Nasgatei wanted or needed. Besides, they were on a mission.
Since arriving only a few months earlier, they’d heard rumors of a cursed child, a blight on the community and his family. Alexsander Lovecraft was his name, but try as they might, Nasgatei so far had been unable to find so much as a description of the curse that afflicted him. They couldn’t help it--they were intrigued, and so they sought him out. There was no telling if his curse was similar to theirs, but any clues to end their current state were welcome.
Even if the chances of the child having any clues or ways to help them, Nasgatei couldn’t pass up the chance.
Eventually, Nasgatei reached the home they’d been told belonged to the Lovecraft family. For a long moment, they stood facing it, trying to decide how best to approach things. They couldn’t just walk in and ask to speak to the child, and forcing their way inside was even more of a foolish idea.
Nasgatie was at a loss. Alas, they had to once again face their greatest weakness.