Creature City Revival

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Galzra smiled. "For the time being. My family intend to move in here to accompany me once everything is clean and refurbished. I came here prior to establish myself fully as head of the manor, and perhaps organise a ball to announce our arrival. Though I must admit, I have yet to learn how such things work around here."

Aelia smiled. "Thank you. It's fun to be up there. You know nobody's gonna touch you." She chuckled, pocketing the lighter. "Yeah, I used to wear the patches too, but gave up in the end. No use keeping them on when you've got enough money to keep affording them. They don't help as much as they claim to anyway."
 
"You will soon learn, I'm sure," Ellaria said pleasantly. "Which brings me to why I'm here. The Lady Cecilia noticed your arrival and extends a warm hand of welcome to you and all of the Helarisi house. She invites you to dine with her tomorrow night, as a means of formally welcoming you to the seat of the Noble Families. You are, of course, permitted - even encouraged - to bring any other members of your family you see fit. Spouses, sons, sisters... Anyway, she looks forward to meeting you."
An idle hand stroked the feathered crown of Altair's head, and Ellaria sipped her tea. Mr Helarisi was a fine bachelor from a seemingly equitable family; had the Baron still lived, she was sure he would have attempted to marry Galzra to his wayward daughter. Cecilia, the handmaid thought with a smirk, wouldn't dream of it now she held power.
 
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Galzra inclined his head lightly, sipping his tea. "The Lady Cecelia sounds like a generous and welcoming woman. I will certainly accept, and I am certain my brother and sister will accompany me." He observed Altair as he drank his tea; yes, the griffin certainly recognised him. Considering how well-kept the majestic creature was stood as a testament to Cecelia's wealth and kindness. Griffins were rarely found in such a beautiful state.
 
Ellaria smiled.
"Perfect."
Leaving her mug on the mantelpiece, the Harpy stood and brushed down her dress absent-mindedly. Altair stood too, ruffling his wings. His gaze rarely left Galzra. It was intense, as was usual for a Griffin, but laced with curiosity and kindness. The handmaiden curtsied once more to her host, a few locks of dark hair falling over her eye. She brushed them back.
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Sir, but I should get back to my lady and return Altair to her too. I'm sure we will talk more tomorrow night. The Baroness and I look forward to meeting your siblings at dinner."
She began moving towards the door, her wings folding closer about her arms in anticipation of the cold.
 
Galzra stood too, going to get the door for her. "Do take care out there," he said, noting how thin her dress material was. Was the manor that hot? "And I extend my thanks for the hospitality shown to us thus far."
 
"Long may it continue," said Ellaria as she stepped beyond the threshold and was immediately half-enveloped in darkness. "As I believe it will."
She turned, and began walking down the long driveway, Altair at her heel.
 
The Harpy reached the back servants' entrance of the Aster-Pitch Manor, but didn't step inside. Altair went ahead of her, pausing in confusion.
"Go on up," she said with a smile. "I have to water the hanging baskets before I go to bed."

Needless to say, Ellaria did not water the hanging baskets. She moved further from the house; her figure was hugged entirely by shadows, almost indiscernible. A tiny white light illuminated her cheek as she pressed a little flip phone to her ear.

"Ellaria? What do you want so bloody late?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded groggy and familiarly cold.
"Chief, Sir," the Harpy could barely keep the smile out of her voice, "you're going to be glad I woke you. I have the best information and the most dazzling opportunity you've ever had, with respect, Sir."
"Oh? Do go on."
"Jet Helarisi is moving in beside the Baroness - and she's invited to dinner at the Aster-Pitch Manor tomorrow!"
There was a brief silence. Then the voice on the line, too, had a grin audible in his tone. "Fucking hell, Ellaria - tell me more."
"Jet's brother Galzra is in the new house at the moment, moving in. He says they were gifted it in the will of a dead friend. I went to extend the invitation of a welcome dinner at my lady's instruction and he told me his last name. Chief, Sir, I almost burst with surprise. He assures me Jet will be at the dinner."
"That's enough."
Ellaria fell silent.
"Brilliant work. And she still trusts you?"
"Completely, Sir."
"Good. Keep it up." The cold voice hung up. Ellaria allowed herself one breathless laugh before turning and walking back inside, stashing the phone in her apron and resettling her face to one of utter innocence.
 
Galzra shut the door, turning round to face Jet. Surprised, he scrambled to click shut the lock.
"So Cecelia knows we're here." Galzra said.
"Yup."
"And her handmaid invited us to dinner..."
"Yup."
"You don't trust her."
"I don't trust anyone, Galzra. Trust is how you get a knife in the back while you sleep. Especially in a new district when the only person we know has just hired a whole new staff set. Who knows their background? Take weapons and make sure you and Azur have a fully replenished magic well."
"I'm guessing that-"
"Alexis will be doing what she usually does when we go anywhere. I will be armed and so will Azur."
Galzra nodded. "Okay. So-"
"We've scanned the house top-to-bottom. No hidden mics or cameras in the floor, walls or ceilings, or hidden in or behind anything on any of the floors."
Galzra nodded. "The moving van will be here Sunday morning." That gave them tomorrow free to go shopping for clothes, and to attend the dinner just fine.
Jet nodded her approval. "Well done for making yourself look the part. You're taking to this task remarkably well," she added with a soft smile. Galzra returned it.
 
The Red Chief's hair was aflame in the light of the fire in his hearth. His namesake was his hair; it was bloody red and in loose ringlets, short-cropped but just thick enough to cover the scarred stumps of his Wendigo antlers. He stared into the fire with hard blue eyes, tapping his phone thoughtfully against a thin greyish lip.

The Red Chief was far from classically handsome. He layered up to bulk himself out but his face couldn't disguise his washed-out thinness (a trademark of his Wendigo blood); he was all angles, with high hollowed cheekbones and a thin Roman nose. He had dark reddish brows which seemed perpetually arched as if he was harshly judging everything in sight. Gnarled, bony grey hands with claw-like fingertips tapped tunes on the mantelpiece. He seemed, to a stranger's eye, to be the very embodiment of cruelty and ruthless ambition.

The Red Chief yawned, and rocked back on his fluffy socks. He blinked hard to clear sleep-dust from his tired eyes as he dialled a familiar number and lifted it to his ear - now he was awake and filled with passion for a new, dangerous pursuit, he supposed he should do as much as he could before retiring once more to bed.
"Jet?" There was a smirk in his voice. "I knew you'd be awake."
 
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Jet smiled at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Ah, Jack! It's been a while since we talked."
She'd been over to visit a couple of times since Jack had gotten horribly ill. Her and Alexis had nursed him through it, helping Arrow in how to conduct himself to ease Jack through the recovery process without causing a relapse. However, with the recent business in moving she'd had little time to go and visit. Hopefully that could be arranged soon.
"Is everything alright over on your end of things?"
 
"Yes - business is brilliant at the moment."
Jack walked as he talked, moving briefly from the fire to peer into the bedroom; on a four-poster in the barely-furnished room, a bronze-skinned man was sprawled and snoring lightly. Jack smiled, careful to keep his voice low so as not to disturb him. His cat-like pupils dilated as he cast his gaze over the man's puff of black hair, thick dark brows and shirtless torso.
"What's going on on your end? I hear you're moving to the rich district."
The sharp-tooth smirk that twisted his features was softer than usual - she was his rival in some respects, but there was a certain electricity in a friendship with your equal. Jet was someone he could trust to help him if needed, and he knew she trusted him to provide the same help for her.
 
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Jet chuckled. "My family are, yes. Whether I'll join them is the question. I'm still gonna have my network in the middle district and I'll still be popping around a lot, so really the only difference is I sleep elsewhere and attend some fancy parties." Her own voice was kept down- Galzra and Alexis were sleeping at present, and she didn't want to disturb Jack's roommate either. His friendship was something she valued. Personally, he was a great guy to speak with and he understood her in ways the others didn't. Understood the stress of being in charge of a whole district. The two could relax together and kick back, having a genuine understanding of the stress they faced.
Business-wise they were beneficial to each other for the same reason. They both had contacts that could benefit the other, and if something came up that required them working together, it was easier to get done.
Jack was someone that Jet went out of her way to maintain a warm friendship with, more for the sake of him being a good person rather than business benefits. That was just a bonus. It was why her voice was warm and kind, her smile genuine and wings drooped in a relaxed position rather than being tensely tucked into her sides as they usually were.
"It'll be great for info too- I've heard so much gossip in the past couple of days just from wandering around the streets here!"
 
Jack laughed quietly, revealing row upon row of knifepoint-sharp teeth.
"Rubbing shoulders with the city's elite - it's so very you."
Jet may have been his friend, but Jack wasn't about to divulge the placement of his spy in the Aster-Pitch Manor, nor anything she'd told him. If he could twist Jet and get things from her - well, he'd done worse.
"I imagine you're already in demand at all of their balls."
 
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"None yet, but we have been invited to a neighbour's dinner party tomorrow. Galzra fully intends to throw a ball himself when we've settled to announce our arrival." Jet chuckled at the thought. "I've made friends with a Nagai who trades information between the middle and rich districts, but so far that's it. I know the folk up here are complete suckers for gossip though, so I think I'm gonna fit right in," she grinned, almost excited at the prospect.
 
Minerva's phone rung. She smiled, a parting glance at the dancer who remained a mysterious figure, before taking the call further down the path.

"Min, you're not gonna- gonna fucking believe this!" The voice was her brother. He sounded bewildered, but also excited.
"I met a Helarisi today. Well, this morning."

"Are you high?" She could hardly be obliged to believe her brother when he made such a statement. Araneae didn't meet noble folk.

"What? No. I met Azur Helarisi. You know, Jet? A member of the family?" If this was an elaborate lie he'd certainly done his research.

"Yeah, Abner. I know Jet. Everyone know's Jet. " She rolled her eyes, although a part of her was interested now. What had her mad brother done this time?

"Me n' Vince were pulling a con, right? And our mark turned out to be the very man himself!" She should have known.

"Oh, so you met a Helarisi by robbing them of their money then?" Abner made an offended noise down the phone.

"I didn't. I mean, we tried and we couldn't. Turned out, the guy had been onto us the whole time and he totally knocked Vince out-" The words came out in a rush without pauses as Minerva tried to piece together what her brother was saying.

"But anyway, here I was, in the Imperial-"

"-Was Vince okay?"

"Yes! Jesus, Min! He was fine."
 
Aelia's ears twitched as she tuned in. She only caught wisps of the conversation, but that was enough. So whoever the girl was talking to had met a Helarisi, then? That was fascinating. The family held notoriety for not talking to anyone unless they were doing business or otherwise wanted something from their conversation partner. She faintly wondered what could have been so important that a Helarisi had a conversation with a normal citizen?
It wasn't like it was her business. She relaxed further into her fur coat, taking a long drag of her cigarette.
 
"Oh? A neighbour whose name I would know?"
The Chief poured himself a glass of vile-tasting beer (the cheapest on the shelves with the highest alcohol percentage) and took a long drink. In the bedroom, Arrow stirred, reaching out in his sleep for a cold body that was not there.
 
"You may well indeed," Jet said. "Her name's Cecelia Aster-Pitch. She's a lovely noble, if a bit more eager for adventure than her fellow nobility."
She took a seat on one of the tables in the study, the fire crackling away behind her gently. She wasn't sure how many contacts Jack held in the rich district, but perhaps this was one of them. "She recently became Baroness of the household and is very keen to establish herself properly. Fired most of her house staff and left herself with just a handful to keep the place running. They all seem very efficient at their job too."
 
Collapsing on the sofa, Jack paused thoughtfully. His cold eyes flashed as he ran over what to say in his sharp mind.
"I imagine most of them are spying, bless her," Jack said. "I've heard the name - couldn't put a face to her."
He was, of course, lying. Jack could remember every detail of his baby sister's face. He imagined a rose-tinted scene in which they were reunited and he escaped the sewers of the city with Arrow's hands clasped firmly in his - but he knew I was impossible. Ellaria wasn't spying on Cecilia to report on whether his sister was safe and happy; he needed to see if he could use her for information. She was his ticket into the rich district, where a wealth of information could be hiding - a naive, eager-to-please, inexperienced Baroness was the perfect opportunity. His next objective was clear in his head, and he knew Jet could be the missing piece: he had to snag an invite to that dinner.
 
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Jet hummed her agreement. "It's why I'm going to be wary at the dinner tomorrow," she responded. "I don't know if she's run background checks on any of them or not, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." She swung her legs lightly. "How are things on your end, anyway? Still busy hunting?"
 
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