Your OC Catches The OC Above!

Brown said that it was time for Johnson to get some plants for her garden - even though she could've easily obtained them herself - and he had no choice but to comply. Besides, the alternative to sneaking around in the dark to try robbing a greenhouse was getting his ass kicked, which was far, far worse in Johnson's mind for whatever reason. And that ignored the fact that Brown would be the one kicking his ass, and since she was an accused murderer...

Johnson didn't want to risk death that way!

He was, however, willing to risk death a different way, as he was well-aware that the owner of the property in question had a heavy suit of armor that the man assumed could potentially deflect psychic attacks... As well as definitely break the man's fist if he tried punching the metal out of impulse or sheer rage. Though that shouldn't be too much of a concern, since the fellow was likely asleep as far as Johnson was concerned. So, brushing his hair aside, he opened the door with...

"Shit," he spat upon realizing how noisy that damn thing was. Johnson glanced over his shoulder before continuing to snake through the columns and towards the greenhouse, though the light that shone from nearby signaled one thing: he was caught. Should've said that "shit" a different time, huh. The man froze like a deer in headlights, if only so he could gaze back at the other party.

With a taut laugh, Johnson hummed, "So, I suppose you caught me. Good for you." He lifted his hands up in the air almost mockingly before sighing. "Listen, I don't expect myself to break the windows either, sir. That's why I brought my creatures with me." Gee, the ones that made him look like some old ass wizard? Nice. "So, if you think that you're going to deter me with a punch, you're going to be out of luck. Many tend to win against one, even if there's a weak link in the chain..."

"Besides... The plants are what I'm looking for. A friend of mine asked me to get some, you see, but she's... Very finicky, very specific. I asked the people around here where the plants she wanted were, and they all pointed to here, so here I am. Go kick her ass if you want. She was the one behind all this."

What a beautiful friendship.

"It doesn't matter," stated the aristocrat with a sneer, as he regarded the younger man with a raised brow in midst of all that lantern's light, "Neither of us should be out here anyway, according to both of us. But here we are, so why not drag one other person into the mix?" Johnson brushed some dust off his cloak before turning his back to the other man. "Either way, don't opine on shit that you're not confident in. It makes you look like a fool, and I'd hate for you to seem like that, you know..."

He paused, then added curtly after a minute of stern silence from him, "Yes. I don't come from here. That's the point. But why does that matter? I could say the same thing to you if you came to my house like this, but I wouldn't... And that'd make me better, by at least a little bit."

His hands stroked the stallion's mane as the two of them carried on down the path. The dappled horse's legs pushed back swathes of bracken, strolling onward as peacefully as can be while the man on the saddle kept an eye out. He didn't stray from the more well-known trails as often as one might think, but he wasn't insecure enough to not push himself down those less traveled.

So, here he was, his head held high in his usual confidence as he searched his surroundings, listening to the distant sounds of chirping birds and croaking frogs.

Him trespassing onto other people's property, however, wasn't so bizarre. As a young teenager, he and his friend would come across ranches. Boys being boys, they tipped cows and wrestled hogs, and maybe once they took off with a rooster, but this brought shame upon his noble uncle. The scoldings continued until he finally matured, until he combed back his impulsive tendencies. He was, however, untouchable back then in the eyes of the farmers. And, in his eyes, he was untouchable now.

So, when things started getting hairy-- hah-- he steered his horse to a stop, head perked to the growling of wolves. But, wolves were what he expected, not...

When the creatures emerged from the shadowy foliage, his reaction was to blink in surprise, but then to sneer as one of them-- presumably the leader-- stepped closer, away from the circle that surrounded them. Perhaps Hakim was a fool, but he was a brave fool. Would "brave" be a positive trait to have in this situation? Any wise person would flee, push back their opponents with the heavy strength of a draft horse, but alas, he wasn't a wise person. Smart, but not wise. He was too arrogant to be.

"I'll go where I like." Hakim hissed out, "You and your circus troupe can't stop me."

His horse didn't share in his confidence, its ears flicked back and forth, its upper lip curled. But, its rider wouldn't allow him to shy away. What a shame.

"And," Hakim continued, "Where I'd like to be is here. I've touched nothing, but if you really insist on me being a threat, such can be done. I can piss on a tree. Do you people piss on trees? Gods save all of you, if you're going around prancing in those outfits, pretending to be dogs." He pulled back on his horse's reins, snickering towards the group leader. He should absolutely be taking this more seriously, but... "I'm a nobleman." Ah yes. Playing rank. "Should any harm fall upon me, my household will be up in arms."

Too bad Knox didn't have to care! Beat his ass, old man.

Daisy being a witch and probably naturally having something concealing about her presence (compared to humans) was probably the only reason Knox wasn't able to make her out earlier. He was cautious and very protective of his pack. Which meant keeping a low profile and avoiding curious eyes if possible. Which is the reason, much to his dismay, he preferred to get away as quickly as possible when he met the eyes of a strange, young woman. He didn't have a sense for the supernatural, just the heightened senses of a wolf, so he was assuming she was human. Only when she was actually keeping up with him and he witnessed her floating above the ground he realized his mistake with shock and actually stopped when Daisy was calling out to him. He definitely wasn't happy about it but hiding might not have been the best option with someone capable of magic. He turned towards her as he waited for her to fully catch up and his gaze was as cold as ever. No matter what kind of spell caster she was it explained how she could remain hidden for so long. And it meant he didn't trust her. Possibly even less than regular humans.

"You're not the only one with questions, girl... Why were you watching us? You better not be planning anything... You might have magic on your side but I can bite your head off quicker than you can cast a spell...". His voice was rather monotone for sharp threats like these, yet quite intimidating and had a subtle growl to it. When Daisy was close enough to read his aura it was clear there was a lot more than aggression. The aggression was just the exterior, a wall to hide the worries and love he held for his pack. And beneath that great pain that Knox wasn't even aware of himself, much less let anybody else near that part of him. "Answer my questions and I might answer yours".

The aide was careful to nudge Smith away from the table and into a crowd of pedestrians, where she had finished up a glass of pomegranate juice, before droning, "You know, miss. You should be going back to the hospice in time. I mean..." They paused to rub the back of their neck before giving her a somewhat uneasy smile. "... This is already a bit of a stretch, allowing you to venture outside of the hospice's premises like this, though... I remember the director stated that enrichment is important to mental development. Come along now, dear..."

And without waiting for a reply from Smith, they nudged her along. Not that she was particularly verbose today. Her eyes lingered on a certain book that she had left behind - one featuring a stuffed rabbit going on adventures with his friends, but... As far as she was concerned, there was really no reason for her to question it. She might as well have believed the book would somehow return in her room later on, with that same worn-out cover and everything.

"Come along now..." the aide repeated as they guided her into the vehicle waiting for them outside the building. Its neoclassical facade towered over them, imposing yet so simplistic at the same time. A younger Smith would've been able to admire such impressive architecture; this Smith just wanted to get back to the hospice, as the surroundings were at least familiar there.

Yet... Funnily enough, this part of the town wasn't new to her. She had visited it once in her twenties but had since forgotten it now-

Not that it mattered so much in the first place.

Smith neatly folded her hands together almost mechanically before sighing, "I wish I stayed at the hospice more often. It's so confusing here," and rubbing the back of her neck. Her words were almost drowned out by the running of the car engine, but it was enough for the aide to turn their head to her with a frown.

"You heard what they told you. It's needed for your enrichment- Hey, what's that?" Their hand suddenly pointed out of the window to a shadow being cast over the car. Smith glanced up, though she didn't say anything. The aide then remarked, "That's odd. I've never seen anything like that in the city before. Unusual, huh?" The older woman just nodded before the car came to a stop near the hospice. There, the aide took her hand, gently cooing to her the entire time, though... It was clear to the casual observer that they were being a little patronizing in the process.

Their cooing ceased when a stranger suddenly appeared in front of them, clutching the book that Smith had earlier looked at.

"Oh?" they opined before letting go of Smith's hand and picking up the book. They felt the hard cover with their hands before giving the younger man a nod. "I didn't even realize that we left this behind at the cafe. Interesting! But I must thank you for your kindness nonetheless. It's one of her favorite books, you know." The aide seemed to be perfectly oblivious to the fact that the man was talking to Smith, who merely regarded him with glazed eyes and a relatively flat expression. "I must ask, though," the aide opined further with a cocked head, "How did you even know where we were going? You know how this violate medical confidentiality, you know, especially considering the status of this patient."

Wraith was so concentrated on locating the whereabouts of his target that the friendly hello from behind him caught him completely off guard. He jumped in surprise and lost his balance, though luckily the person managed to grab him and pulled him back to safety. He turned and looked at the person and saw Selene apologising to him. His tensed up shoulders relaxed a bit. "It's fine, no harm done." He replied brushing off the dirt and dust from his clothes which he got from climbing up several buildings previously. 

"I'm looking for someone." Wraith replied, his expression briefly showed a mix of anger and frustration before he shook it off as best of he could, "they have been....difficult to track." He said looking back towards the streets. He could feel her eyes on him and turned his attention back to the demoness. "My wounds are fine, your stitching skills made sure of that." He said subconsciously putting a hand on his stomach before it dropped to his side. After that day he had seen Selene a handful of times and if he was honest it was nice to see a friendly and familiar face. He had noticed that several people in the city would often stare or gossip about the demoness in the city, though Wraith would never admit to it, he did make sure those particular people never spoke a bad word against her again even if that meant scaring them so much that they left his territory.

"Anyway....what brings you up here?" He asked. 

Adaptability, it was the most important characteristic a leidsman needed to have. Roswell lived in Drakenburg for 19 long years now and néver had he seen this. The Kraker's-leidsman was getting too comfy in his position, being Graak's ally, being the leidsman of a healthy gespan. But his world had flipped upside down. Two weeks it took. Two weeks. His supply lines we're cut off, the guards had moved. Kraker's got arrested left and right and for the first time in 8 years, Roswell had to stop his handle-routs entirely. Had to call back his Krakens..had to strategy again. Roswell had one clue though, a small paper card he firmly held in his hand. It instructed guards to leave the port and go further west. Into the rich areas of the city. Kraker's territory. And while Roswell didn't knew who the handwriting belong too, he knew he has seen it before. Do you remember those guard schedules Roswell had stolen and copied? Months prior? Roswell did remember those and the handwriting was, awfully familiar. It wasn't Johnson's handwriting, not Browns but from someone in their circle. Someone who got paid by the high aristocrat(s) to do their dirty work, he only needed to find out... Who was paying who. That's why Roswell had slipped into Brown's estate. It wasn't like he didn't trust her, the opposite really... He wanted to discuss it with her. She was his only ally in those circles. 

maybe, he pondered as he scanned her mail quickly, maybe he could foind de answer on his own.that didn't happen. Brown's bird found him instead. "Void, " Roswell hissed. Making some wild motions with his arm to scare the beast off, but making it even angrier insteas. "by me two souls yer gonna wake-" his head perked up oh so slightly and the foul bird directly snapped in his ear! "Ouch!" Roswell whimpered. Then he saw Brown, and he smiled, a bit forced and strained. Even his smile couldn't mask his stress. It had been long nights with little sleep. "Sweetcakes, " he said.

"Yes de citymen, dats who oi'm here, Brown, " he pressed her. He hadn't called her Brown in such a long time. He was, definitely, tired. Most of his normal charms where gone, he seemed...older in some way. Stern even. Roswell flinched at the nose biting though. The man had been through so much the past couple of weeks, losing his nose wouldn't surprise him at this point. "It's yer neighbors oi want to talk about, " Roswell said. He waved the paper in his hand oh so slightly. Preparing himself to get his hand bitten.

 "That's the problem sweetcakes. I don't know de guards pattern anymore. Ofcaurse they change from toime to toime but me men on the inside, gone." Roswell frowned and fought the urge to just..spat on her floor. "Disappeared,no trace. Void!" He yilped when Brown hoisted him in her arms. For a few long seconds, Roswell forgot his worries. The guards, the paper. He softly pressed his nose against her arm, sniffing that familiar sent of tobacco and hint of wolf. Maybe everything wasn't that bad after all. Roswell smiled, small and gentle. Almost breakable. Man, he was tired.  It was nice, hearing her talk about her fossiles once more and Roswell nodded. "Ya, foine, " he muttered weakened. And when Brown mentioned food, his stomach growled in command. His last warm meal was..two weeks ago? Maybe? Now that he thought about it.. He hadn't eaten at all today, being to busy trying to keep his little crime empire safe. Keeping his machine running, while Nathaniel's smugglers seemed to operate in the streets that once belonged to him.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, it wasn't Brown who caught Roswell in the act of breaking into her house. It was her bird.

And holy shit, was it pissed when it spotted the intruder, for it suddenly swooped down from the top of a chair with a hiss and snapped at the man's hair. It then thought it was a very good idea to perch itself there, though it shifted its clawed feet every so often and puffed out its feathers. All the while, it sat there hissing and lashing its tail, snapping if he dared move a muscle. In hindsight, it more seemed like the bird was more like a warning system than an actual deterrent to intruders, and that made sense given Brown's possession of a dagger- Oh no.

"What in the actual hell is fucking going on here?" spat a familiarly raucous voice as a hand started to peek itself through the entryway. "I thought with the increased numbers of guards around these quarters, there would be less-" It suddenly stopped. "Roswell?"

Brown glared at him before properly surveying her surroundings. The broken glass, the bird perched on top of his head... And not to mention the fact that she swore that some of her possessions were shifted ever so slightly... It made her a little bit pissed at him, as a treat, but the overwhelming feeling she had could've been more like... Confusion, per se?

With a drawn-out sigh, the woman waved a hand at the bird before huffing, "You know, that was a very stupid thing to do, you fucking idiot. I heard from my friend recently that the Citywatch had shifted the guards toward our quarters and... Away from the ports, funnily enough, so... You could have easily been arrested, and it is not like the neighbors are going to leave this alone without looking into the cause first, even if I don't give a shit. Broken glass is a pretty fucking scary sound, after all." The bird hissed at Roswell and snapped at his nose - but it didn't actually bite it - before shaking its feathers and fluttering off. "So I really shouldn't be keeping you here for long, but..." Brown paused, her glare softening slightly as she continued to scrutinize the scene.

"I think as long as you leave when the guards are not as dense in number, you should be okay. In the meanwhile, however..."

A hand instinctively went towards where her dagger was hidden, but the fact that her other hand was still tightly clutched around her shawl proved that it was just... That. A reflex. She clicked her tongue against her palate for a few seconds in the meanwhile, as she had to come up with a decision of what she should do next. There was another pause, before - with some hesitance - the aristocrat hoisted the thief off the ground bridal style, which was... Accomplished surprisingly easily. Huh, she thought while glancing down at Roswell's dirt-caked shoes, That was better than I expected. Not sure if I would do it again though. So much fucking grime in the house...

"This is only to reduce evidence in case the guards actually investigate the room, so don't get too giddy over it. Or worried, either, since I have the feeling I can carry you without too much effort. I have dealt with fossils worse in that regard," Brown growled before adding more calmly, "But that asides, while you wait, I suppose I could cook some food up. I promise I won't poison anything. Also... You better explain why the hell you decided to pop in here in the meanwhile, or I will make sure my bird makes your stay miserable. Got it, otterface?"

The chill in the air seemed foreign to Brown, who was from the much warmer south. She couldn't even remember a day - in her forty or so years of existence - that her area ever snowed; of course, there were days and nights in the winter when she'd joke about freezing her ass off from the cold, but that was all just playful hyperbole. Snowfall, let alone blizzards, seemed too new to her, really.

Guess who was going to get her ass literally frozen off in this state?

"Not me," growled the aristocrat to herself while attempting to make herself cozy in a wooden clinic. It was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by an array of buildings that made the enclave look minuscule in comparison. That was fine by her; unwanted companionship was the last thing she needed right now. She drew in a sharp breath, her lungs contracting slightly from the sudden intake of cold air, before the woman exhaled a sigh and started to pace around the floor in search of any supplies that she could use to start a fire.

It's all too good to be true, she thought to herself with a sniff, the door was unlocked. How in the hell could someone leave it like this- It would let all the cold-

Brown suddenly jumped when she heard a door closing behind her. Did... Did someone just enter the house? She froze and clutched her coat close to herself as she heard footsteps approaching her, and it was inevitable that her eyes turned to face the source of the sound: a relatively young doctor who appeared... Calm. Perhaps overly so. Brown sniffed again. the stoicism reminded her of that of her friend, who shared such a dedication to rationalism that she always teased him that it was one of his greatest faults - rather than one of his greatest strengths...

Of course, it pissed him off. And normally, while Brown was more than happy to piss off a man for laughs, her current situation - with the howling snows and winds just outside - meant that maybe pissing him off wasn't the best idea. Better to deal with a man than freeze one's ass off in the snow.

"You... You own this place?" Brown asked in apparent disbelief, thought the iron imbued in her voice only complemented the wariness flickering in her eyes. She took a step back and brushed some dust off her shirt before sighing to herself. "I mean... I would not be surprised. You share the dignity needed to own some stupid fucking clinic-" Abruptly, she placed her hands over her mouth before loudly coughing into her palms. "I mean... It is... Nice to meet you, and... No thank you. I am fine. You have no idea what you're getting into, are you?"

With a hollow laugh, she allowed her hand to drift towards her pocket - if only so she could pull out her trusty dagger. Just in case. But she didn't, at least not yet. She'd only watch him, for his voice was unpromising but his attributes the slightest bit flattering.

"I may sit, but I assure you... I am fine. I promise you..." Yet Brown's voice was weaker than what it should've been, and that only indicated one thing... Her ass was the slightest bit frozen from all that cold slowly creeping past the walls and into the house.

Ivan stares at the sudden intrusion. He was sat at his desk, studying various aging medical texts by candlelight, when the clinic door was suddenly opened. This isn't someone looking for help, nor shelter from the storm like his...earlier encounter, but rather someone appearing to be another doctor themselves. Their statement confirms this theory. Witness his talents? What a strange request, but it's one he thinks of entertaining. 

He stands, placing his book down and walking over to the smaller..."person". Not offering his hand out to shake as an introduction, and matching their equally stoic expression all the while. They look serious, he can respect that. "This is one of the few times my name has preceded me in a positive light," He starts. "You would like to know more about what I do here, yes? I would love to sit and talk with you, so long as you educate me on your own personal history, occupation, and...physiology, as well." He seems unbothered by the fact that they're clearly not human at all, if anything, he seems even more eager to chat.

He finally smiles, stepping away from in front of them to motion them to come further into the clinic. "I doubt we'll be disturbed, so let's get to know each other better, hm?"