a toast, then, to mayhem and worse;

Wide eyes stared at the scene, some still with a pipe in their mouths as it nearly dropped from their mouths being agape.

“Witchfinders,” she explained as if a dude just hadn’t gotten dropkicked to the ground. There was no visible expression on Aleisters face, there couldn’t be, the wooden mask still yet turned on the scene.

There’s his company! “It has been, Lasair. Perhaps literally, I barely recognize the fervent woman debating against Miriam anymore. You grew up.” She’d found her sharp edge and embraced it, and Aleister loved to see it. There was no space for words anymore in the debate, they’d long proved that.

The man was impossibly tall, sitting hunched over the low table with his crossed legs sticking out on both sides, though at the mention of setting fires and seducing tax men he groaned and stretched. “Faline is a bitch, love. Fires have been finding me, as of late.” Though hadn’t he set the nearby forest on fire? It’d been fake, yes, but who could tell with his powers lately? Ah, the thoughts seemed to leave his mind before he could voice them.

His head tilted slightly as she leaned over, her words bringing back recent memories to the surface. “Well I assume he might still be tripping in the parking space.” Aleister mused with a sigh, the witchfinder that had shot him barely on his mind anymore. A skinny little thing? A fat rat? Some very beefy hunk? Couldn’t recall. “Had fun though, made a friend, had Azcasu repair me. Got shot again the next day.” He explains as if it was pure comedy.

His wooden mask was his only proof. Normally he wouldn’t be found dead in anything not glimmering, and while the mask was beautiful and elaborate, it wasn’t silver. “Be careful with that love, I had it laced with your tea.” The mask can’t smile, but his voice can.

His form bends to lift up a small satchel from the pillow next to him, presenting it to Lasair on the low table. “Of course. I think it’ll be to your liking,” Al continued, gloved hands unwrapping the half-mask he’d made her. It covered the jawline, golden teeth covering the cheeks and a sheer but glimmering cloth covering the space in-between. “The enchantments are, uhm,” Well he’d written a note with it, grabbing the little crumbled paper from the bag to unfold and smooth out, “It’ll allow you to change your voice. Or, others will hear your voice differently, I should say.” Should try to at least get his own magic right.