Khaat Lupin in the Flesh

Khaat wasn't surprised Vincent had needed to produce a show of strength and dominance. He had had to comply with whoever that man was, and he had to show that he was capable of controlling her. She didn't resent him for that, for some odd reason. It was just part of that odd relationship they had. Part of her mind was already shut down to the unforgiveables. And part of her just knew Vincent--at least as well as anybody knew Vincent. She felt no ill will towards him at all. And he and Ne'Os had managed to get her out alive. She was truly grateful for that.

She was, though, fairly surprised when she found herself at the intersection of Knockturn and Diagon Alley. From her vantage point, she could see what looked like countless dead bodies in the streets and nothing much but smoldering rubble where Sparks used to be. So much death. The stench was thick. Not everyone had died easily. She felt herself slide down the alley wall to sit on the brick Knockturn Street, overwhelmed.

It took her a moment, but she realized she wanted to speak to Vincent but the words would not come. They were gone. Just gone. She saw a Quibbler reporter standing in the streets in the mayhem, scribbling in a notebook with a quill, with a much-too-excited look. It infuriated her. She reached out the palm of her hand and accio'd the notebook and the quill from the reporter who began screeching obscenities at her. She used a quick hex to cause the reporters' voice to turn not nothing but the sound of a cackling hen. She wasn't in the mood to play tonight.

She took the notepad and the quill and flipped to a clean page and scribbled a hasty note to Vincent. She tore it out and handed it to him. She meant every syllable.

"If you get a clean shot at Thaor Elldir, take it. He betrayed your people and mine. You know how to handle betrayals. You'll be a hero on both sides," it read.

ooc: incidently, i really do miss vincent's avatar. just sayin'.

ooc: I'm not sure where it went... I didn't delete it or anything.

Vincent observed as Khaat stole the notebook from the reporter and began writing. He understood immediately. It was a usual effect of torture, losing the ability to speak properly. Even her hands were shaking as she wrote, but Vincent was able to understand the words. After reading it, he turned and looked at her with a curious expression.

"I am not on your side Khaat… nor our dear leader's," Vincent said slowly. "And you know what they say about an enemy of an enemy… " Vincent was actually looking forward to meeting Thaor, if he could. It was nice to have allies anywhere you could find them, but nevertheless, Vincent wasn't sure he wanted to be associated to someone who was capable of the destruction around them. "I probably couldn't kill Thaor even if I wanted to. Death is not my speciality, strangely enough. I couldn't even kill Shacklebolt," Vincent added, as he handed the notebook back. "Anything else?"

Khaat took the paper back and eyed him with a bit of curiosity of her own. She had been afraid before, but Vicent had always been someone she'd been confident in. he had saved her life more times than she could count. She trusted in his skills beyond almost anyone else and hadn't ever hesitated to say so. This was new, though. She had never been afraid for him before. Why did she still care? She paused a moment to gather her thoughts before she wrote again.

"Be careful. We were with him when his mind snapped. He has become an indescriminate killer. I don't know of anyone else that has the capacity or the desire to do this but him. If he can do this, don't think he won't kill everyone of you too before you could stop him. And he won't give a damn. You can't reason with him. He doesn't have that in him anymore. Whatever you might think, I am not your enemy. Don't let him fool you. People on both sides if the law want him dead. You team up with him and they'll kill you just as quick. Stay safe."

She knew he liked power, but aligning with Thaor was only going to toss Vincent a few notches lower on the food chain, as far as she could see. He seemed to hate the ministry now, and therefore she was not in a position to help him much. But if he heard her warning, he might live long enough to continue his fight. And, strangely, she wasn't against that. She hesitated, debating on giving him this much of herself again, but then she handed him back the note, sighing.

Good or bad, she'd done it. She'd given him the truth about Thaor to try to save Vincent from a fatal miscalculation. The rest was up to him. And unless he had become an imbecile since she'd seen him last, he would now know that some part of her still cared on some level--much as she didn't understand that herself. She felt a bit like kicking herself, but she was in enough pain as it was already.

Ne'os followed him and Aaron turned to face him. He took a moment to let the role reversals sink in. He was still not sure what to think of Ne'os, but he did what Aaron had commanded, and he could not punish him for that. It was not to say that Aaron fully trusted him, but as it stood, he had no reason not to trust him either.

"You did good out there. You have been around for awhile and you know all of the Death Eaters pretty well. I need someone like that by my side, but the only problem that arises is your loyalty. So, the question arises, can I trust you? Before you answer, think about it for a moment. The natural reaction is to say of course you can, I am your loyal servant, and blah blah blah. The truth, Ne'os, can I trust you?"

Ne'Os considered Aaron's words for a long moment. Did he really have any loyalty for their new leader. Not just a new leader but the one that took his place. Though at the time Ne'Os was a bad sneeze away from his death.

He looked at Aaron for a second or two more before he answered. "I will be honest with you. You are the only person in my way from becoming the dark lord. However, you have earned your place, and I am still recovering from the epidemic that has swept our world. You have earned my respect and loyalty. I will follow your orders within reason of course." He said not taking his eyes off of Aaron's.

Once again, Vincent took the notebook back once she had finished writing and began reading it. Looking back up again, his expression was one of amusement mixed with irritation. Did she really think that he could not take care of himself? That he would lack subtlety and be caught by either the order or the death eaters? Nevertheless, Vincent was aware that she was simply saying it out of care for him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Caring was a weakness, and although their friendship could be useful, Khaat had already proven to be a unreliable ally at best. Her sense of what she called honor was far to great for her to be useful to him in any way.

"You do not have to worry, I am always careful, Khaat," he replied, handing the notebook back. Clearly, she and Thaor had some background he was not aware of. He had probably betrayed her like he had betrayed them. "I think you are missing the point here though... Thaor is dangerous, but he is one man. The Death Eaters are rising again. You would do well not to underestimate them," Vincent warned, before taking his wand out.

"I'm going to have to use a stunning spell on you now," he said. She was still able to walk properly, and they wouldn't want that. "It would not do for them to find you like this. Anyway, you should be found within the half-hour after being stunned I'm sure."

She had expected he would not let her make a clean escape. Not entirely. As a last show of utterly pointless defiance, simply because she not appreciated losing so much to the Death Eaters tonight, she flicked her fingers at the notebook and set it ablaze. What was one more thing on fire tonight, after all? She cast it aside, not wishing anyone to have evidence of what she'd said to him, and she snapped the quill in two and tossed it onto the flaming notebook. It only took a moment to consume the paper.

She wasn't missing anything. She would dutifully pass on their message. Mutual cautions had been exchanged. There was nothing left to say. A stunning spell. Meh. There was far worse he could have chosen. It wasn't like she hadn't dealt with that before.

She simply laid her hands on her lap. She wasn't fighting. There was no point in fighting when no battle was being waged at the moment. She glanced at the notebook's ashes to be sure the notebook and the quill were both gone and then she looked at him. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to just bloody well get on with it before she changed her mind.

Sofie was left with the rest.

"Mystique, you'd better learn to play nice. Why don't you and Morrigan go on a little assignment, to bond?" Sofie waved her wand and Nemo Omara's personal effects were summoned into her hands. The woman turned them over in her hands. Pill bottles, joints, a lighter, and a note to the woman known to be his roommate.

Sofie looked between the women. "Take this. You decide how and to whom it should be delivered. Impress me. These belong to Nemo Omara. Wait for the Order to finish their panic, and then deliver this to whomever you'd think it'd be most.... fun to surprise. Work together. If one of you so much as scratches the other, hell will be paid. It's time the Death Eaters learned to be a bit more civil."

She smiled between the women, before handing the werewolf the items. "That is all."

Morrigan accepted the items, peering at them intently as they lie in her hand. Though she had no magical schooling, Morrigan still knew how to read.

"Jack Dyllan, aye?" Morrigan chuckled darkly, "I have heard of that wench. Be simple enough to deliver them to her....she works right there in Diagon Alley..."

Morrigan turned to regard Santana wryly.

"What say you, pup?" she asked in a sweetly sarcastic tone.