Machinations of the Unnatural [Peregrine x Huntress]

[Huntress]

There has still been no sign of father, it's not like him to stay out over night, let alone over several days. I wasn't bothered by his disappearance on the first day; it hadn't been out of the ordinary. Ever since I returned home, I've kept a close eye on him and haven't really seen a reason not to let him out on his walks. They've been good for him, they help to clear his mind instead of allowing him to get frustrated with himself, irritated with how his brain is growing slow and forgetful. I've seen him go mad indoors and that's why I allowed him to go out. I didn't expect this to happen.

I've spoken to a few of the other constables. Given them descriptions and last known whereabout, even the places that I know father likes to go to. Constable Clayton didn't seem to care for helping despite mumbling an "I'll keep my eye out." Bridgette has been avoiding me since my return, but I managed to ask her, she seemed eager to distance herself. Marius is the only one I have some faith in. He still looks me in the eye when we speak, and despite his tense demeanor while in my presence, he attempts to remain calm and friendly.

'An aura of intimidation' as the doctor likes to call it.

In truth I'm not very confident in the constables. They all tend to do what they find benefits them the most. Although I can still have some hope, this is my father after all. The only thing I have left of my past life. I don't think I'll wait to hear back from the constables before trying to find another way. Father isn't as strong as he once was. I would like to find him soon.

I must look at other options.

The leather-bound, burgundy coloured journal was slowly shut. The black string of hide wrapped and weaved in a practiced manner around the small, silver buckle that helped to keep it tied shut. Placing the book in its respective drawer, the wood slid shut before the woman stood up from where she sat. Her hair was a bright, auburn red colour, it hung straight down, just passed her shoulder blades. Her skin was fair, her figure was powerful, well-built but distinctly female. Her facial features were strong and evenly placed. A squared-off jaw and pointed chin. Her nose was straight, cheekbones that were defined just enough to be noticed in the middle of her face. Her eyes were almond shaped; pale and piercing blueish-green irises focused on something as she walked through her room.

Taking a seat on her bed she pulled on her boots before standing up once again to slip into the white shirt worn underneath her coat. Doing up every button, tightening the cuffs and carefully tucking her shirt in, she pulled up the black suspenders and fastened them before the deep slate-blue, double-breasted jacket came on. Her belt was clamped shut and her hair was neatly pulled up into a tight bun. The action had become nothing more than muscle memory. Her helmet rested under her left arm; gloves slid through her belt on her right side. A slow sigh escaping her as she made her way downstairs. She lingered on the books and pages sprawled across the desk in her father's study. Her jaw clenching and unclenching before she stepped away.

The door was locked behind her as she made her way to the station for a brief on anything to be inspected within the borough.
——————————————————————————————

Nothing out of the ordinary had come forth. Patrolling is what most of her day consisted of. A scuffle here and there to step into and diffuse and that was simply it. Just another day in the Trehast district. She hadn't much to report by the end of her shift and with Clayton, Bridgette and Marius nowhere to be seen she was able to make her way out of the station early and swiftly.

She had an appointment this evening and thankfully Doctor Gosser wasn't one to get upset with tardiness. With her helmet in hand and a few buttons undone on her coat, the constable was on her way. His residence was on the northwestern side of Trehast, some citizens liked to call it the upper district. She just assumed it made those that lived within its borders feel of a higher class. She didn't quite understand why; as far as she knew, it was rather simple, those that were smart enough to build in the area just built bigger when they had the opportunity to purchase land for an extremely low cost. It mattered not really.

Approaching the residence of Doctor Gosser she knocked. Hearing the movement inside his home she waited, the older gentleman eventually opening his door and greeting her with a wide, bright smile.

"Ah, Bevan dear. Come in, please." He stepped back, allowing her to enter.

"Good day to you doctor." She greeted the man. Her voice holding a hint of a rasp.

"Have you been keeping our city streets safe?" He chuckled as he led her on through the home. "One of the reasons I chose to settle in Corvenhurst, particularly the Trehast district, was because of it's safety. As far as large cities go." They eventually made their way into his large study. Double doors shut and locked. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined most of the walls, specimens, literature and tomes of knowledge filling the shelves. Scientific diagrams contrasting against fantastical artwork on the walls.

They were both seated, Bevan's helmet placed off to the left on the large desk as Doctor Gosser leaned forward onto his desk with excitement and intrigue. Elbows planted firmly on the cherry-wood surface, chin resting on his intertwined fingers. "Tell me Bevan, how have you been?" He seemed as excited as a child waiting for a treat.

"I've been okay Doctor. Coping. Recent events have put me slightly on edge, it's made my anxiousness swell. I can keep my nerves under control but there've been some close calls." She explained as her eyes locked onto the steely grey's across from her.

The Doctor's expression wrinkled into one of slight worry. "Hmm." He reached for a small book to his left. Clearing his throat, he sat up straight as he thumbed through the pages. Taking a moment to quickly skim across the page he stopped on he cleared his throat as he left the black book open. "And why is that? Has something new come up?" He raised a brow as he looked back up at Bevan. "I mean, there still seems to be some time." He explained.

"It's not because of that." She explained as her gaze flicked to his notes. "It's because of my father."

This seemed to grab his attention as he readjusted himself and showed surprise.

"He's been missing. The thought of him being hurt or lost makes my heart race. It causes my mind to spiral. I try to avoid thinking about the worst possible outcome and I find myself lingering on the thought of being a complete and utter failure…again." She explained as she looked away, breaths quickening before her gaze returned to the doctor. His surprise didn't go unnoticed as she watched him straighten up and place his hands flat on the desk. "I tried to track him myself, his trail went cold quickly, I even enlisted the help of other constables, or tried to." Bevan explained as she shook her head slightly. "I don't have much faith in them helping me to be honest Doctor. Constable Clayton has shunned me from the day he was convinced that I allowed Dallas to die. Bridgette can barely look me in the eye, let alone stand close enough to hear me speak and Constable Marius struggles to stay calm and unwavering anytime I approach him as if I'm some looming threat." She swallowed back as she felt her heart pounding against her chest. "I've no one else to turn to doctor and I'm not sure what to do. I don't think I can take another loss, let alone one that I'm at fault for again." Her exhale was sharp, nostrils flared.

"First of all, let's calm down Bevan. This is not something to get worked up about. You need to stop allowing your thoughts to run rampant like this." His voice was calm, but his pulse said otherwise.

Bevan eyed the doctor, her gaze shimmering with sadness as she looked away from him and swallowed back, her attention dropping to the floor as she closed her eyes with a sniffle and an exhale. She had caught it. Of course she had caught it. The chair she sat in scraped against the floor, the wood squealing as she pushed herself back. She cleared her throat and brought her attention back to Gosser.

The Doctor seemed to realize his error and cleared his throat before nodding to himself. "All these things you believe are your fault, are not Bevan. These were events that took place and frankly were out of your control. You can't blame yourself; it won't help you or anyone for that matter. You've done nothing wrong, so stop thinking you have." He leaned into his desk again. "I'm sure Richard will turn up. You and I both know that when he focuses on something, the rest of the world could be crumbling, and he wouldn't even notice. If this is causing you such stress and anxiety, then let me help you. Other than making these visits more frequent, I can point you in the direction of someone I know of that can assist you in your search. He's a specialist with his own unique set of skills to solving and finding things. If you trust me, you can trust him. I will give you my word." Gosser explained.

Bevan's attention was on the doctor. Her mind processing the words he seemed to repeat during every visit.

It's not your fault.

It's out of your control.

Don't blame yourself.

She nodded and looked at him. "Okay." She muttered. "What is this man's information?" Her question came with a hint of hope.

The doctor smiled to himself and nodded. "His name is Delin Dencourt. He's a witch that runs a local pub by the name of 'The Silver Gear'."

"A witch?" Bevan asked. "You know how I feel about dealing with others." The worry was evident in her words.

"Bevan, please just trust me. He'll be able to help you. If you wish to be careful, I'd recommend just avoiding any physical contact, he'll know nothing. Not unless you wish to show him." Doctor Gosser explained. "Go see him tonight. I can promise you that he'll at least listen to your case and then you can come see me and tell me all about it tomorrow." He nodded. "I would like to see you every day if your schedule permits. We can avoid the upcoming cycle. If we can't meet everyday, then every other day but no less than thrice a week."

"If that is what you think is best Doctor Gosser then I don't see any issues." Bevan responded with a nod.
——————————————————————————————

As the sun descended, Trehast almost seemed to transform. The citizens for Corvenhurst were for the most part unaware of the creatures that resided within it. Bevan herself was rather new to this world and for the most part she avoided anything that had to do with the supernatural. She was desperate and that was the only reason she was seeking out this 'Delin Dencourt'. She wasn't fond of the idea of her father potentially being involved in anything regarding the supernatural. She also wasn't quite sure how a witch would be better at tracking someone than she was, but now wasn't the time for those types of questions. Bevan didn't even know if he would take the case.

She took a deep breath and exhaled as she looked at the pub before her. All she had to do was go in, ask for Delin, keep her hands to herself and see if the witch was interested in assisting her. Pushing the door open she stepped in, the first thing that took her by surprise was the wall of scents she collided with. So many different smells that her mind was struggling to keep up with finding the appropriate words to describe it all. Words bounced inside her cranium as she winced against the sensory overload. Clenching her jaw, she shook her head with a subtle grunt before clearing her throat and approaching the bar.

A woman with brown curly hair stood behind the counter, she was shorter than Bevan but that by no means meant that the red-head wasn't weary. Internal alarms were blaring as she looked at the woman. The hairs on the back for her neck standing on edge, her body unintentionally tense. "Hello there madame. I'm here to speak with Delin Dencourt. I've been told that this is his establishment." She explained as she looked around. "I'm in need of his assistance." She clenched her jaw and swallowed back. She'd take anything at this point, even if he could point her in the direction of someone else that could help.

 

[Peregrine]

The Silver Gear was located right in the heart of Corvenhurst, a three story white stone brick building with a neat red roof that stood shoulder to shoulder with similar buildings in prime downtown real estate. Although technically a part of Trehast district, the area called "downtown" by the city's residents spread across the edge of several districts, and most simply thought of it as its own little neighborhood.

Despite being located in such a nice area, The Silver Gear was not a famous bar, nor even a particularly popular one. For one, it wasn't a particularly good place to drink. The whole pub typically only had two or three drinks on hand, which would rotate in and out at odd times. They didn't serve food, and never had any other sort of entertainment. Let alone hiring a band, the place wasn't even outfit with an automated instrument. They also didn't care if the people who came in brought in outside food or drink. For another, the place didn't welcome people who just hung around. Even people who regularly purchased something to drink would be tactfully kicked out after a couple hours, despite the fact that the place never actually seemed to close. Yet, the place also didn't prevent anyone from entering, and visitors in fine clothing could find themselves seated the next table over from a smelly bum, unable to do anything about it. Those who complained were thrown out rather than obliged, no matter how much money they brought to bear.

And yet, for all its oddities, the business was clearly a successful one. The rent on the land alone wasn't cheap. The entire place was kept spotless, and was outfitted with comfortable, high quality furniture. Despite its broad windows, the entire interior was illuminated day and night with expensive gas lamps that cast out a clean, white light. And the small collection of bartenders who staffed the first floor were outfitted in neat uniforms, with a long-sleeved while shirt. black pants or skirt, and a red vest. And there was a slow but regular trickle of strange visitors, who, more often than not, didn't seem particularly interested in buying a drink. Instead, they were hustled off by the bartender on duty, past the heavy oak bar to the room in the back that held a flight of stairs.

Four days a week, the evening shift from four until midnight was handled by a petite woman named Garnet. Although she wasn't the chattiest type, the curly-haired bartender was a good listener and an even better mixologist, who was capable of coming up with a surprising amount of variety in drinks considering the very limited supply the bar offered. That was especially the case if customers brought in drinks from outside. What little regular customers the pub had was due almost exclusively to her creativity.

True to form, The Silver Gear was almost completely empty as the sun set on yet another day. Garnet idled away the time with a little clockwork bird, which hopped its way across the counter when it was wound up. However, she scooped up the little bird as the door swung open, shoving it into her pocket as she smiled at the red-haired woman who had just entered. However, a second later and her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air, and a trace of wariness entered her gaze.

All the same, Garnet nodded politely as the other woman approached the bar. "You're a new face," she said, her tone polite but businesslike. "Can you tell me why you're looking for him?"

 

[Huntress]

"Yes indeed. I've never stepped foot in this establishment." Bevan nodded towards the woman as she took a moment to study her. Bevan's nervousness showing with a subtle gulp. The woman opposite her seemed a little weary herself which made the red-head wonder why. Although that thought was quick to fade as she realized that the answer to her internal question was literally under her nose. Assuming her senses weren't playing tricks on her in this peculiar place, then the woman before her was probably sensing something similar coming from Bevan herself. Although if the correlation between word and scent was accurate, the woman across from her shouldn't be feeling any form of intimidation.

Looking away, Bevan stopped over-thinking the situation before clearing her throat and looking back towards the well-mannered barkeep. "Certainly. I-uh I was told that he could be of assistance to me regarding a personal matter." She explained and moved a little closer, eyes locking onto the other woman's. "I need his help finding someone." Bevan hoped she didn't seem desperate or pathetic, but the subject was a sensitive matter to her and in truth, she was indeed desperate for any help. Whether it was from a witch, doctor or constable, she would take anything at this point. Anything to ensure her father's safety.

 

[Peregrine]

The bartender stared at Bevan for a moment, as though scrutinizing her, before the other woman's faint traces of desperation seemed to convince her of... something. She nodded abruptly, before the rather intense look on her face was replaced with a far more friendly smile.

"Sorry 'bout that," she replied, her tone losing some of that strict, business-like manner. "You didn't really seem like you were here to make trouble, but most strangers who show up here looking for Delin come under recommendation from someone else. Had to be a bit cautious, y'know?"

She stepped away from the back of the bar, walking towards the far wall before grabbing on to a short rope that hung from the bottom of a gas lamp. She pulled it sharply once, and a series of clicks came from the bar, causing a portion of it to swing open like a half-height door. A series of gears were still spinning in the other portion of the bar. On the wall behind the bar, just to the side of the gas lamp, Garnet also pushed open a heavy wooden door, before stepping politely out of the way.

"There's a staircase in the back. Head through the red wood door on the second floor and wait in the sitting area. Delin should know you're here, but he might be in the middle of something. Either way, he never leaves guests waiting for long."

 

[Huntress]

She felt her heartbeat pick up as she watched the woman opposite her. The barkeep's stare was intense and intimidating. The smile that soon came from the other had Bevan releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding in. "Oh, you don't have to apologize for doing your job. I understand." Bevan nodded with a small smile. Watching the movement before her, the red-head was intrigued by the sounds of various cogs and gears grinding and turning. Acute hearing capable of pinpointing the locations of the moving pieces as her eyes jumped around from spot to spot, eventually landing back upon the barkeep. She nodded as she was given instructions and smiled. "Thank you. I greatly appreciate it." Her words were true and genuine.

Finding the staircase, she ascended, the red wooden door was next, the seating area being just behind said door. No others were about, choosing a chair at random she took a seat and looked around. Her right leg crossed overtop her left as she sat straight. Fingers were entwined and clasped over her knee. Of course, she was still nervous, there was nothing she could do about that. Meeting others always made her nervous especially the ones that were capable of controlling the energies of the world.

 

[Peregrine]

The waiting room in the upper floor was, if anything, furnished even nicer than the pub downstairs. Wooden waiting chairs lined the walls, upholstered in soft red fabric, and a thick rug covered the floor, muffling the sound of footsteps. Like the room downstairs, this room was illuminated by gas lighting, however it did not have a single window to the outside. A small collection of fruits on a platter had been placed on one of the little tables that separated the seats, accompanied by an amber liquid in a crystal decanter. This was clearly a room intended to cater to the tastes and privacy requirements of the most high-profile of potential clients.

True to the words of the bartender downstairs, it took a few minutes before the locked, dark wood door that stood on the far side of the room emitted a series of clicks, before swinging open to admit a man into the room. His arrival was accompanied by the scent of floral herbs, salt, and beeswax. Despite the warmth of the room, a faint, cold air seemed to follow him into the room.

At first glance, Delin was a man of indeterminate age, with mature, squared facial features that didn't show clear wrinkles or lines. He was darker of features than the pale complexion that was standard in Corvenhurst, leaving him with a dark olive tan, black hazel eyes, and hair so black it almost seemed to reflect lavender in the glow of the torches. He was dressed in casual black clothes that, despite their dark color, still showed a hint of a stain from unknown materials.

Delin studied Beven for a second when he entered the room, but his expression was gentle. "It's nice to meet you," he said politely. None of the hesitation that appeared on Garnet at meeting a stranger was shown on his face. As far as he was concerned, anyone who made it up here was trustworthy. "Come in. Would you like anything to drink?"

 

[Huntress]

The first click had been just a tad startling for Bevan. Her attention turned towards the sounds as she perked up in her seat and watched the door slowly open. The subtle sweetness that had lingered in the air grew stronger as she watched the man step into the room. Standing up out of respect she nodded towards him. "The pleasure is mine Mister Dencourt. Thank you for seeing me." She spoke softly. Her grip on her own wrist tightening behind her back. No handshakes, although he'll probably figure it out eventually. She told herself. Bevan smiled with a small chuckle. "I appreciate your offer Mister Dencourt but I'll have to politely decline. I'm not much of a drinker." She explained as she dipped her head slightly.

Making their way through the door he had just stepped through, Bevan looked to either side of the tee shaped hallway, spotting a door to the right before glancing to the left and taking a couple extra steps to catch up with the witch. Keeping a fair distance from the man as they walked, the two eventually ended up in another room that was more lounge-like and less of a 'waiting' area. Two couches were placed across from each other, a low, wooden table between them. Shelves lined the walls, some books resting here and there. For the most part the shelves seemed to be intended for Mister Dencourt's handiwork, trinkets, candles, accessories and potions, to name a few things. As her senses finished scanning the room, her eyes eventually came to rest on the gentleman before her. There was a brief smile from Bevan before she looked away.

 

[Peregrine]

Delin took note of Bevan's tense, or at least cautious posture as they walked down the hallway. However, he didn't have any desire to pressure her. Many of his visitors and clients were innately cautious. It was a part of living connected to a secret world, and Delin had long since learned that, if he wanted to maintain his good reputation, it was essential not to push people outside their comfort zone.

"Please, Delin is fine," he replied, guiding her though the door and to the room to the left. "I'm generally not one for formalities, unless the situation absolutely requires it." He gestured towards the couches once they'd reached the room, allowing Bevan to take her pick between the one that was closer to the exit and the one that was facing the exit, before seating himself on the other side of the table.

"Now, would you care to introduce me to yourself and what you need?" he asked after they were both settled. "I assure you that you can speak freely here, without having to worry about unwanted observation."

While Delin had long since taken the time to ward the entire building, this room was particularly well protected from eavesdropping or intrusion of any sort. It was a part of his respect for his customers, making sure that their privacy and secrecy would be maintained. The wards were subtle, carved into the headboard, baseboard, and bookshelves in a way that made them look more like intricate decoration than the witchcraft they were.

 

[Huntress]

After taking a seat Bevan looked up towards Delin. "Certainly, yes." she chuckled a little awkwardly. "I could've at least given you my name thus far." Clearing her throat, she sat up straight. Internally she scolded herself slightly. "My name's Bevan Moore." she started. "Your services were recommended to me by Doctor Wilhelm Gosser." she continued. "I'm seeking your assistance because my father has gone missing. I've done everything I can to try and find him. Even tried to track him myself, but I haven't had much success." Bevan's gaze locked onto Delin's. "He's not well and I fear the worst has happened but there's a part of me that's telling me to hold on." she took a moment and clenched her jaw. "I know it may sound a little absurd, but I've learned to trust my gut as of late." There was a breath that escaped her. "His name is Richard Moore. He's an alchemist who grew dangerously fascinated with spirits and attempting to communicate with them after my mother had passed." It was the simplest way Bevan could explain the situation. "His mind has slowly started to deteriorate. For the most part he can still function and make it through day to day life. His 'episodes' are few and far between. Sometimes he gets obsessed with a concept or idea and he will not stop until he's exhausted every possible outcome or avenue he is capable of exploring." Another small sigh came from the red-head as she broke eye contact with the witch for just a moment before looking back towards him. "I hope he's not on some wild goose chase that could cause him serious harm." Hopefully that was enough information for the times being. Whatever else Mister Dencourt required Bevan would gladly provide.

 

[Peregrine]

Delin listened attentively to Bevan's explanation, his hands folded in his lap as he unconsciously categorized the information. Unlike Garnet downstairs, who had at least gotten the sneak preview that the other woman was looking for someone, Delin had assumed Bevan was here for the same reason as most people came to find him. Either to purchase some of his crafts, or for help dealing with a ghost that had appeared within the city. However, as Bevan continued to speak, his expression grew progressively more grim.

"An alchemist, you say?" Delin's tone was contemplative enough to make it clear that he was merely repeating what she was saying, and not actually asking her to reconfirm the information. "Obsessed with ghosts?" Delin took a slow, deep breath, his thoughts quickly racing. There was no one in Corvenhurst, perhaps no one in the entire United Cities of Suntower, who had more experience with ghosts than he did. But, even for all his experience with ghosts and supernatural beings, and all of his practice and capabilities, Delin still maintained a healthy respect for these beings. There was no such thing as a harmless ghost.

"I can understand why Gosser sent you to me," he said softly, kneading the side of his head gently with the tips of two fingers. "I'm sure you're well aware of this if your father has been around spirits for long, but ghosts are far from safe, especially for someone who might not have full reasoning capabilities at the time. You said you tried to track him? Were you able to find the start of his trail? Did you lose it at a specific location?"

 

[Huntress]

"I can't say that I've had much experience with ghosts myself, I didn't know they could be dangerous." The worry showed in the red-heads voice and gaze. "At first, upon my return home I didn't even know that he was chasing spirits. As his mind deteriorated further, I discovered this little obsession he had." Bevan explained. "He was a good alchemist and my mother always liked to challenge him, especially in regards to the supernatural world. If anything, she was more so fascinated by the concept than he was." She swallowed back as she further explained with a sigh. Clearing her throat as she felt her heart sink to her stomach, she broke eye contact with the witch before taking a moment to look back towards him. "Well the trail started from home. It was easy to follow though most the city but as I grew closer to the tanneries, I lost it. I didn't think heading down to the industrial sector would yield any results in ghost hunting. I'm aware that beyond that is the old sector of Corvenhurst. I'm not sure how that would've helped him any either, it's certainly not the safest place to be, that I know." Bevan stated as her worry lingered. "I'm very new to this concept of the supernatural so I apologize if I'm not making much sense. I always believed it was all just stories to tell your children at night, or metaphors of life. Guides to follow in being a good person. It just never seemed to fit as part of reality." The red-head finished her statement with an awkward chuckle.

Did she sound insane to this man? Because she sounded insane to herself.

 

[Peregrine]

Although he did his best to conceal it, Delin's expression grew progressively more grim as he listened to Bevan's explanation. He already didn't like the sound of this. Delin didn't have much respect for alchemists at the best of times. Most of them were little better than incautious madmen, tampering with forces beyond their control regardless of the risk to themselves and those around them. Now there was an alchemist chasing after ghosts?

That, in and of itself, was already enough reason for Delin to take action, regardless of Bevan's request to him. "If your father is looking for ghosts, the Old Quarter is a good place to find them. Unfortunately, that also doesn't narrow down our search much, and even I have no particular desire to wander aimlessly there if we can avoid it. Hmm..."

Delin pondered for a second, before nodding to himself. "You're doing fine. That's why you find experts. Either way, there are two relatively easy ways forward from here, and a few that are... less easy. The first, do you happen to have a portrait or likeness of your father's current appearance? If he truly did enter the Old Quarter, that would be the easiest way to pick up his trail, but it would need to be an accurate representation. If not, would you be able to get an item of his. The closer and more frequently he keeps it near or on his person, the better."

 

[Huntress]

Bevan's attention was solely on the man before her as she watched, studied, listened, and unintentionally registered all associated scents in her mind. Her jaw clenched and unclenched without her noticing as her eyes darted across his features. As questions were asked, her analyzing halted, eyes strictly locking onto Delin's. "I do not have an accurate portrait unfortunately." She stated rather simply. "But I may be able to find an object of importance." Bevan nodded, mostly to herself, reminding herself that she was indeed capable of such a simple thing. "Of course anything that he would consistently keep on his person is lost with him, but I believe there are some things strewn about his study that are important enough that he may have just forgotten to take along on this trip." She explained. "I understand that you are most likely a busy person Mister De— Delin." Bevan corrected herself with a brief smile of embarrassment. "But this is a rather pressing matter for me. Whatever your price may be to start immediately I am willing to pay." She nodded just to drive her point further.

 

[Peregrine]

Delin nodded in response to Bevan's information about the items, not taken particularly by surprise. It was rare for anyone other than the wealthy to bother creating portraits or busts of their family members, and even then it would be doubtful that it would be one that had been created recently enough to be relevant in their situation. All the same, an item of importance would work almost as well in their situation, or would at least work well enough given their circumstances.

"I understand your urgency," he replied in the end. "If you'll forgive me the description, a potentially unstable alchemist searching for ghosts is a matter I would have addressed once I knew about it, regardless of your request. I'm also not one to exploit a young woman looking for her father."

Delin nodded, standing up from his seat and gesturing towards the hallway that led back to the waiting room. "It is going to take some time for me to prepare the necessary materials for our search, but I believe it will also take some time for you to go collect that item. When you have it, please return here, and I should be ready to begin. Do you require me to show you out?"

 

[Huntress]

Bevan remained silent as she listened to Delin. Her jaw set as she stood when he did. "Thank you again Delin." She spoke simply. "I think I'll be able to find my way out…I hope." Her words were followed by a small awkward chuckle. "I will return as soon as I can." She finished and left. Making her way out of Mister Dencourt's establishment, Bevan hurried home. A large portion of her evening was spent searching through her father's belongings. Attempting to recall what was important to him out of all the things left strewn about. Surely the most important and precious belonging he had were on his person. But that didn't mean she couldn't find other things.

Her search had yielded in a few results. A locket of some sorts, his wedding band, and his latest journal. Having glanced through some of it pained Bevan. The decay of his mind showing in his words and handwriting.

Her day had started painfully early. It was evident in the tired expression of the red-head but also in her irritability. Most of the constables kept their distance, which was no surprise to her. Bevan in truth didn't mind today, she'd rather not deal with others if she didn't have to. The benefit to starting early was that her workday ended early. That in return meant that she could give Mirster Dencourt what he required to start the search for her father. Changing out of uniform upon arriving at home, Bevan was quick to leave and make her way to The Silver Gear.

Upon entering the pub she was surprised to feel a much different level of energy. The woman from yesterday wasn't present and instead she was greeted by an extremely enthusiastic young man with black hair. There was no hesitation in his actions as he was quick to allow Bevan upstairs while mentioning that Mister Dencourt would be glad to see her. The statement was curious, the auburn haired woman raising a brow as she watched the serf before making her way up stairs into the waiting room. "Mister Dencourt?" she called out. "I've brought the items." she continued before taking her first step in pacing the room.

 

[Peregrine]

At Bevan's shout, there was an unexpected but muffled clatter from behind the wooden door. Only a few moments later, and Delin emerged from behind the door. His eyes quickly flicked up and down Bevan's body, as though studying her, before some weight seemed to be removed from his shoulders. He relaxed, and offered Bevan a smile.

"I'm glad that you're alright," Delin said, and he looked like he truly meant it. His short black hair looked slightly mussed, as though he hadn't brushed it yet that morning, or had spent the last several hours repeatedly running his fingers through his hair. There was a small stain on the hem of his dark brown shirt. "When you didn't return last night, I was afraid that whatever happened to your father had happened to you, too. If you didn't show up by the end of the day, I was prepared to go get reinforcements and figure out what was snatching up people off Covenhurst's streets."

Of course, it was all a moot concern now. Delin could tell from looking that Bevan didn't run afoul of anything nasty last night. Other than looking slightly tired and stressed, she seemed to be in good health, which was truly a load off of Delin's mind.

It also appeared that some of the extra preparations he'd stayed up late last night to prepare were going to be overkill now, but that was a small matter compared to Bevan's well being. He could always save them for later.

 

[Huntress]

Her attention was towards the muffled clatter. Swallowing back, she stood tall and stepped back as Delin entered the room. Her brow quirked as she caught him studying her. The relief grew evident on the man as Bevan narrowed her eyes in confusion. His smile was reciprocated with a subtle one of her own. The following words caused her perplexed expression to spread further across her features. "Is there a reason I wouldn't be?" She questioned. Was she unaware of something? Should she be keeping an eye out for potential dangers that may have risen upon meeting this man? Before she could continue questioning various possibilities, Delin spoke again. The confusion fading slightly as realization came across Bevan's face, her eyes flicking away from the witch briefly as she blinked a couple times to process his explanation. Looking back towards him she let out a small puff of air. "My apologies Mister Dencourt. I didn't know you were being literal with your words last night." She explained. "I'll keep that in mind in the future." Bevan nodded towards him.

Removing the locket and ring from her pockets, Bevan held the journal cover up and placed the other two items on top of it. Stretching her arms out towards the man to hand him the items she was hesitant. Looking down at his hands she took breath and swallowed back. As she waited her heart skipped a beat as nerves bunched in her stomach. Her gaze flicked between the journal and the man. Pulling back as she clenched her jaw she looked around the room, finding a surface, the red-head was quick to place the objects down and step back from them. Nodding towards them she looked at Delin and motioned towards the journal. "Please." She uttered before bringing her hands behind her back and clasping them tightly together.

 

[Peregrine]

"Ah," Delin replied lightly to Bevan's words, a trace of awkwardness crossing his face. "I'm afraid I thought you were the one being literal with your words. When you said the situation was urgent yesterday and asked me to begin immediately, I thought you really meant, well, immediately."

Rubbing slightly at the side of his nose and finally seeming to suppress his awkwardness, Delin offered Bevan another smile alongside his words, his tone somewhat like that of a teacher presenting information to a student. "When you're dealing with supernatural beings, words like urgent and immediate are generally taken quite literally. After all, if you've got a corrupted evil spirit or rampaging werebeast, or worse yet, traces of devil and demon activity, the difference in even an hour can make a difference in the life or death of one or even many people.

"But, no worries. I much prefer a small miscommunication between us to you actually being in trouble. As I said, I'm simply glad that you're alright. Can I see the items you brought?"

Delin gestured towards a small table in the waiting room, before moving over to inspect the items after Bevan set them down. His fingers floated over them lightly, flickering through a number of hand signs. Eventually, he lightly scooped up the ring. "It's weaker than what I would have liked, but this one will definitely do. Let me grab a few of the items I prepared from the back room, and I'll be ready to go." Seeming to suddenly remember their miscommunication from last night, Delin's eyebrows momentarily lifted, before he turned to smile at Bevan. "That is, of course, assuming you are ready to begin?"

 

[Huntress]

Bevan nodded towards his little tidbit of information. She had just learnt something new and made a mental note on what words to use in the future when speaking to Delin. "Understood." She confirmed aloud before keeping her eyes on the man as he continued to speak. Carrying on with whatever process was required, Bevan watched in confusion with furrowed brows. Hand signs, no words and soon a decision was made. Not having realized how close she had leaned in; the constable was startled ever so slightly as Mister Dencourt made his decision and spoke up. Her eyes grew wide for a split second as she slightly stumbled back. Letting out a small sigh she reminded herself that she needed to calm down. "I'm sorry I had nothing more to offer." She spoke quietly as she met his gaze again. Her nods were quick in response to his question. "Yes, we can certainly begin." She confirmed verbally.

 

[Peregrine]

"It's alright," Delin replied, casual and somewhat absentminded. "It's rare for people to have exactly what they need. As long as it's got a strong enough connection that I can make do, there's no problems." Finishing his second inspection of the ring, Delin tucked it into a small pocket in his shirt, before nodding to Bevan. "I'll be right back."

Only a couple of minutes later, Delin emerged from the back of the shop. While he'd been gone, he'd gained a belt that was covered in a series of pouches, a brown overcoat that seemed to hide numerous pockets, and a narrow-brimmed black hat. He smiled once more, confident and professional, before gesturing down the stairs.

The black haired young man who had greeted Bevan enthusiastically upon her arrival was still downstairs when they reached the first floor of the Silver Gear. He'd perched himself rather casually on top of the counter, legs twined one around the other, and was entertaining himself with a metallic puzzle cube. As seemed to be standard, the Silver Gear was completely empty of customers. Upon hearing the click of the door behind the counter opening, he twirled around, offering a slightly cheesy grin towards the emerging duo.

"Boss," he said lightly, greeting Delin with a wave of one hand.

Delin nodded back as well. In truth, he didn't come down to the lower floor of the Silver gear all that often. His staff were reliable, and mostly handled their shift changes themselves, without need for any sort of interference. He mostly saw them at moments like this, when he was heading out, or coming back in after a trip. "I'll be heading out for a while," Delin continued. "Shop's in your hands until I return, Alec."

"Sure thing, boss," Alec agreed, nodding once but still fiddling with the cube in his hands. "Think you'll be back before Garnet shows up?"

Delin's head shook, but the slight quirk to his mouth and his spread hands made the gesture clearly uncertain rather than a form of denial. Alec only nodded once, before returning his full focus to the cube.

Allowing the door to swing closed behind them, Delin led the way out of the bar, before flagging down a passing cabby. It wasn't particularly luxurious, made of older wood that had become worn down with the weather, but the back of the cabin was still enclosed, separating the passengers from the driver in the front who sat with a series of gears and wheels.

Throwing a coin towards the driver in the front, Delin requested their passage to the tannery, before holding open the door to the back of the cab to allow Bevan entry. Only once they were both settled and the door was closed did the cab lurch forward, accompanied by the faint sound of turning gears.

Turning to look at Bevan, Delin considered for a second, before ultimately beginning to speak. "Do you know anything about the research your father was conducting?"

It was a question that wasn't strictly relevant to the investigation he was conducting, what the man was doing likely wouldn't change the method of finding him, but Delin still couldn't help but ask. He was far more familiar with ghosts and evil spirits than even most witches, and couldn't help but wonder what would drive an alchemist to investigate such dangerous beings.