Clio Jones had spent enough time on this rock hurtling through space to learn a few things. After her last life was cut rudely short by a supernatural creature (fucking faeries), she'd decided to spend this lifetime somewhat more protected. As it was, she had positioned herself in one of the safest places on earth she could have possibly been, short of some stronghold somewhere (although the Excelsior may as well have been one itself), and with that positioning came employment by one Mr. Salvatore "Sal will do" Godric, a man who had made quite a reputation for himself back "in the day".
Sal was reputable indeed; he hadn't gotten this far in life not knowing a good thing when he saw it. He couldn't quite put his finger on what about Clio he liked, but he never regretted taking her in. She was a fine assistant and more or less was able to soothsay some of his best and most influential clientele without ever losing an ounce of class herself. It was only a bonus that she was sporting a nasty Fae curse, the likes of which he hadn't seen in - well, ever. Whatever had jinxed her, it had been mighty powerful, and it was mighty old. He wasn't saying that he couldn't do something about it, but he definitely wasn't going to blindly take a crack at old fairy magic.
He also thought it was funny that his little golden girl was absolutely, one-hundred percent incapable of not hating Fae. He had them pass through from time to time and she always maintained herself well, but afterwards he knew she'd probably wash her hands a few dozen times and throw some iron tacks on her floor for good measure. He was still trying to get a handle on precisely the nature of her curse, though as far as he could tell and as far as she would say, every lifetime something else changed. Like a game. A game where nobody ever fucking won.
"Mr. Godric, your usual table is ready for you," came her smooth voice, interrupting his brain as it worked out a possible solution for a new and different problem that his protege had presented him with not too long ago - how had he amassed so many proteges? "Will Eli be joining you tonight as well?"
It would normally bother him that someone knew so much, but Clio wasn't just someone. If Eli was the closest thing to a son he had, than she a daughter indeed.
'Reputable' was an interesting term, especially in the case of one Salvatore Godric. He had a name that was widely known in certain circles, feared in some and revered in others, but always respected; there was a reason the rules of his house were so rarely tested and still managed to maintain the concept of true neutral ground. The triste's place was considered the same, but was less welcoming to those who ran some of the darker circles, more like a sanctuary to those who sought aid. The Excelsior didn't discriminate, so long as the rules were followed, and all who paid their bill were welcome to a space.
Not that it was just a hotel. It was a hub of activity, located in the middle of the city, and a place where news and information could be bought or gained, deals could be made and truces struck. The hotel bar (the real one, only accessible to a certain in-the-know crowd that excluded the 'normal' floor's inhabitants, who were fond of a lounge bar that was easy to find) was a common place to find Sal, who was widely known there as Management, though actual ownership of the place was under constant speculation. Some thought he was the owner, while some assumed he just maintained the peace for some other, possibly even more terrifying, individual.
"Thank you, Clio, my dear," he told her as he joined her, thoughts pulled from the current issues at hand, and issues they were. Lucifer himself running loose in Tim Browning's son? A very serious problem. "Indeed, he'll be along in just a few moments. Set an extra place, if you would, we'll be having another guest. You remember Mr. Darling? It'll be someone of his caliber, sharp-dressed and dark, just as polite and just as dangerous. You'll know him when you see him, just send him along to me."
He was conversational about his instructions, completely unconcerned, but he really had no reason to be. His rules stood, and Clio was delightfully smooth with even the most worrisome of the clientele The Excelsior could invite through those front doors. She would do fine, and Walker had never been anything other than professional. It was Eli that he was a little worried about.
Fortunately for Godric, Clio worried less of Eli. It was unfortunate that she had seen more of him lately than ever before, not because she disliked his company because Eli was always the perfect gentleman to her; it was because something was seriously wrong and his presence had been necessary to formulate a plan to correct certain... situations. It was unfortunate in this regard specifically because it had Fae-related dealings, although Clio didn't know that yet, and Godric hadn't even told her Tim Browning was in town, let alone that his son had been borrowed.
"Of course," she said. She glanced down at the small tablet in her hand, reviewing his schedule. Fire and ice, these two were - whereas Godric had a very low drive to adhere to any sort of strict regiment, Clio seemed to thrive on it. For her, though, lifetimes of experience taught her that order was very much key to success. It just so happened that in this lifetime, she had a small device that could track her day, or his for that matter, down to the absolute second.
"Hm, if he's anything like Mr. Darling, I'm sure we'll get along just fine." She paused. "He's not a Fae, is he?" she asked cautiously. "Or would you rather I 'accidentally' hit him with the fireplace poker like I did to the last one? I still don't think he bought that I was merely clumsy," she added. It was funny because it was true - Clio was far too graceful to ever fake being anything other than. She was already putting in the order to the staff to set a third place at the table - Clio, of course, would not be joining them for dinner. She rarely did, finding that her own penthouse-style suite within the Excelsior provided more ambiance than Eli's rather dry wit ever could.
He was such a gem.
Make no mistake, it wasn't Eli's interactions with Clio that Sal was worried about; his protege was a perfect gentleman to her and appeared to like her quite a lot. If Sal was honest about it (and he had been, to both of them, once or twice), he thought that Eli could have liked her enough to love her, but both sides of the equation had individually made it very clear that it was not an option. Clio was waiting for someone specific, apparently, and Eli was a very good judge of character - whereas Sal knew she was waiting for someone, but was uncertain who or if she even knew, Eli had understood almost immediately that it wasn't him. Sal had dropped it, but he still watched them both and wondered why the hell they were alone.
Eli had a few interesting stories along those lines, he was now aware, but really, he'd been itching to get Eli to talk to him about some of what had happened before this whole mess since they'd gotten back in touch. They'd talked only business the night before, but damn it, he was far too curious not to ask tonight. Maybe before Marcus arrived.
"Of course he's not a Fae, do you think I'd surprise you like that?" he asked, a tease in his tone, but the last time she'd 'checked', it was because he'd flat out told her he didn't know. He tended to warn her, just to prevent surprises and ensure she could maintain her role in this. "I know for a fact that he's not Fae, you don't need to hit him with iron unless he really offends you, which I doubt he will. You'll like him well enough, though Darling might be more of a conversationalist. I would suggest you take a place at the table, but it's grave business we're discussing, and I don't think either of them will have much of a mind to pay you much attention."
His last statement caused her to actually laugh, which was surprising because what he said wasn't really as funny as her laughter dictated it had been. "Sal, when has my presence ever distracted anyone from business?" she asked. Not that she could ever recall. Part of the reason she enjoyed what she did and where she was, was due to the fact that she greatly appreciated her solitude and, for lack of a better term, anonymity. Not that nobody there knew who she was; they knew that she was one of Godric's closest employees, possibly even related somehow, but that was all that they knew. She worked around some of the most beautiful and fearsome supernatural creatures, and humans, that walked the earth from time to time - she was mediocre in a room of them at best. And she liked it that way, considering half of the reason she was in this stupid recursive life-cycle was because she'd stood out a little too well against the Queen of Air and Darkness. Fucking Fae.
After she was done laughing about something that wasn't really funny to anyone but her, she pressed forward with plans. "What time do you expect him to arrive? I assume he's already booked and otherwise taken care of?" She didn't generally handle any of that; mostly she was there to make Sal's life easier, although sometimes she made it harder by forcing him to make appointments he didn't otherwise want to keep.
She was relieved to know that he'd dropped the idea of she and Eli. Just- no. Eli fortunately had better sense than the old man did regarding matters of the heart as far as she was concerned anyways - she'd tried to give him a brief overview of her situation, but Eli had already figured out from being around her for only a few hours that she was very much not on the market, despite being otherwise single. He could empathize. At least Sal hadn't tried to set her up with anyone since that had failed miserably - although it was probably because he levied a different type of trust to the men and women he employed and housed. Plenty of them could have been fine suitors for Clio, but they also weren't going to get within 10 feet of her if Sal had anything to say about it.
The look on his face was so flat that it plainly said everything he could possibly be thinking about exactly how not funny that was. Not that he'd meant it as her needing the attention, seeking it out or distracting anyone, because it had been his way of pointing out that she didn't want anything to do with the conversation (he hadn't told her it had to do with fae, but he knew it wouldn't appeal to her) and that the quality of her company was likely to quickly deteriorate with the gravity of the topic. Eli was charming enough, in his own way, and Walker would be polite, but Eli got more sarcastic the more irritated he got (and he was not happy with this situation) and Marcus could be...intense. Of course, Sal had never refused Clio the opportunity to stay, if she pleased, either. She was certainly his most trusted employee, perhaps more than a mere 'employee', and he would deny her very little, if she requested it. That she asked for so little may have had something to do with that, in its own way; he respected her independence and capabilities.
"Clio, you are a very attractive young woman and the only reason you don't distract anyone from business is because you're actively trying not to, a facet of your performance I usually find to be preferred, but I do know that it's intentional." She was, at all times, actively trying not to be found desirable in any way that might be considered sexual or romantic. She was beautiful, but she was professional.
"His room has already been settled with the desk, yes. Eli's on his way to the doors, would you be so kind as to accompany him through the building? He's strictly to have no physical contact with anyone, yourself included," he instructed, and he didn't necessarily think that anyone within the hotel would be the type to bump into him, but Sal wanted no chances to be taken. If Eli had someone who could do something other than trying to dance away from a body that got too close, it limited potential mishaps. "Especially yourself."
"They need to keep their minds on their jobs, not on me," she reminded him firmly, a thing she'd said many times before when people would ask why she never socially interacted with anyone. Honestly, it was strange that they found it strange she was borderline reclusive with her personal time. It wasn't as though she was inaccessible; on the contrary, she was often seen in the hotel, not even always by Godric's side. But she was a very private person, for good reason - after a few lifetimes, she figured out that people were absolute garbage given the opportunity. She'd seen what trouble ancestral magics could bring, and she had no doubt if someone knew she had comprehensive knowledge without being truly immortal they'd want details that she wouldn't want to give.
"No physical contact?" she repeated, her eyebrows raising. Even if Sal hadn't said Fae were involved, her brow immediately furrowed because that definitely sounded like Fae involvement. Of course, that particular 'gift' wasn't Fae at all, it was Infernal, but it all tied back to Fae in the end, didn't it? She'd be thrilled to learn more, if she deigned to stick around to hear it, which at this point was looking like it wouldn't happen. Sal was good at selling her on disinterest. Most things disinterested her, so she took his assurance at face value that she wouldn't enjoy it. "Fair enough, I'll make sure of it."
She reached out to straighten the collar of his shirt, patting his shoulder gently as she took her leave. For so many lifetimes, Clio had just stopped becoming attached to people in her life. Her parents didn't matter, relatives otherwise of no consequence. She had to find one person specifically, and everyone else was just fodder. Sal was different, though - perhaps because he sensed that she was different. She went to the lobby to find Eli already being his usual charming self, and smiled in spite of herself.
"Eli," she cooed, holding her hands out. "I'd hug you but I've been instructed not to," she informed him. "Do I want to know?" she asked, squinting at him. She resisted the urge to ask him if he'd angered any Fae royalty, knowing that joke would be old to everyone but herself - and also very lost on them.
She was never going to get an argument out of Sal about what the people around her needed to be focusing their minds on, which was why he'd said that he preferred that she didn't try to distract, but still made it clear that he knew it was intentional on her part not to. He often wondered exactly what it was she was waiting for, or who. Being so private didn't make sense for a young woman who looked the way she did, was as smart as she was - she had everything going for her, so why be so reclusive? He knew that it had to do with the fae curse, but not the details, not yet. He was picking things up about it little by little.
Eli, on the other hand, got a bit more information right off the bat, namely because Sal thought putting them together might accomplish something, and Clio seemed concerned that if she didn't put him off of the idea quickly, she'd have to fend off his advances for the foreseeable future. That wasn't going to be a problem with Eli, of all people, but she had no way of knowing that until they actually talked about it; after he made it clear that he got the idea that she wasn't interested almost immediately and then she went on to explain that she was literally looking for her specific someone due to this fae curse, they were on pretty open, even ground for future interactions. No awkward at all, surprisingly, and he was prone to removing himself from potentially mortifying situations, just out of habit.
Since then, he'd actually found Clio to be pleasantly charming, in a comfortable, friendly sort of way. There were no expectations, just that shared understanding for both having involvement with Sal and an overall amicable bit of smalltalk anytime they ran into each other. Since Eli actually tried not to spend too much time around Sal, that made their talks even more pleasant, simply because he never really wanted to be at the Excelsior and she was a bright point in the whole experience. This time really wasn't much different, but as usual, she made it seem more bearable instantly with the understanding, lack of judgment and lack of that careful beat-around-the-bush niceness. Of course, it wasn't like there was a nice way to say, 'I touch people and they die'.
He gave a sigh and a smile that really didn't meet his eyes too well, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat. He was fairly certain that multiple layers of fabric would keep someone safe, but he wasn't about to test it out, especially on her. "Not unless you want to hear stories about Lucifer, reapers and some serious nasties. Your instructions were on-point, trust me," he said, already assuming she didn't actually want to hear and wondering why the hell it looked like she'd come from the bar. Not that there wasn't anything else in that direction, but Sal knew he was a walking death count waiting to happen, so why meet up in a place where someone could run into them? "Is the hotel pretty empty, or is Sal just not worried about a crowd?"
"Both, I think," she said, answering his question about whether the hotel was busy and whether or not Sal cared. He knew what he was doing; Clio long ago learned that he'd almost always have a plan, and doubting or deviating could warrant unintended results. "The usual table is more or less apart from the would-be crowd, and it's still early, so I imagine by the time it picks up, you'll be long gone. Unless you have a lengthy discussion ahead of you." When he let out a sharp laugh at her remark, she raised her eyebrows - but then, of course, he went on.
As he mentioned Lucifer, her face remained mostly expressionless - polite interest, of course, since Eli was the closest thing she had to a brother, but she had to carefully hide the reaction that she'd seen him once or twice. Of course, he wasn't borrowing bodies of people she knew back then, but he did have a knack for jailbreaking, and she wondered if that would be pertinent information. "Careful he doesn't try to skip out on the bill," she said cryptically, walking alongside Eli through the massive lobby. She held an arm out to gently stop a rushing bellhop from bumping into him, proving once again how useful she was, if not curiously subtle.
"Reapers, though? That's new," she commented. She resisted the urge to ask if good ol' Lucy had given him a one-for-one swap on abilities. She was betting that was why Sal told her not to touch him. Sal usually tried to smash them next to eachother in a refusal to abandon hope that they'd just fall in love. "And Heather?" she asked carefully. She knew Harvey had come home and that Eli had been otherwise replaced for the original model, but she couldn't say she blamed Heather. Soulmates were soulmates - it was exactly why she didn't even bother giving interest to anyone anymore. More heartbreak for all parties involved, and things got messy. Once upon a time, when she'd had a lapse in judgment and was overall fed up with things, she'd had a murder-suicide by a jealous lover who didn't want to go away once she'd found her partner. Messy, indeed. The roaring 20's were not her ideal era.
Clio's answer made a lot of sense, honestly, and knowing Sal the way he did, he figured the old bastard was mostly relying on Eli not wanting to murder anyone accidentally. That, or he was expecting trouble and wanted Eli to be front and center, which was also absolutely something that man would do, but trouble seemed unlikely in The Excelsior. It just didn't really happen. Her remark about Lucifer and reapers was a lot more interesting, like she might actually know a thing or two about him beyond the basic 'Father of Lies' religious bullshit (especially if reapers happened to be 'new'), but how would she? Not that he immediately called her on it, considering the bellhop that came careening towards him putting him in high-alert, only for her to effortlessly alter the guy's flight plan. Eli relaxed minutely, a rush of gratitude along with relief for Clio's presence, but that was exactly the kind of accident he was afraid of here.
"I think Tim Browning is actually hoping he'll skip out, since the bastard is holed up in his favorite son," he muttered, but he still side-eyed her with some additional measure of interest. Maybe she should sit in on this conversation.
The switch in topic to Heather made him sigh, though not necessarily in a bad way. It had all worked itself out, however messy it had gotten for awhile there. "I'm not sure how much you've heard, but it's evened out. Harvey's been home awhile, she's settled back into her marriage and I tried to keep the drama to a minimum. Harvey and I are on surprisingly good terms, actually, better than we've ever been," he said, and his voice even reflected some of that surprise because he hadn't actually really thought too deeply on that, but they were. Guess there was something to be said for keeping the man's wife and child protected, happy and also not taking his place. "That crazy team of his came through for me not too long ago."
If any of them knew that Tim Browning hoping he would skip out would come back to bite them all in the ass, the remark probably would be in far poorer taste. As it stood, none of them could see the future - at least nobody who had a hand to play in this game. One would think by now they'd get their paws on a seer of some sort, but the only two that seemed to hang around were Guildies, and not fucking likely to lend their abilities out to this magnitude.
"Favourite? I hope he didn't say that to the other one," she quipped. Knowing Tim, he probably had, and knowing Tyler, it probably hadn't affected him in the least. You didn't have that kind of up-bringing and get upset when someone said something that wasn't nice.
"I haven't heard very much," she admitted, stopping someone with her forearm by deftly sliding between he and the doorway, where a server with a tray full of martinis had come around the corner without calling it. She smiled, her heels putting her much closer to Eli's eye level than normal, but the smile was more of how close that one had been. "But it's good to know it worked itself out. I always thought she was nice, but Eli.. she wasn't yours." She didn't say it to harshly remind him of that fact, but more like... He knew she'd be speaking from a place of truth and experience. The lack of bias in her commentary regarding that should have been better to hear than Sal's thoughts on the matter.
"I am pleased to know they came through. I think I've only really seen one of them. The Siren? She's very interesting, indeed," she laughed. Ketevan was something else entirely. As they approached Sal, Clio clasped her hands together. "Isn't that right, Sal?" At her prompting, he glanced up over his drink with a Hm? "The Siren. Pink hair? What did you say? In your day, you'd have charmed her in an instant?"
Oh, the remark was going to be in very poor taste when it was realized what Lucifer skipping out was going to do to them all, but Eli didn't know and he wasn't wrong - Tim wanted Lucifer out of Trevor's body very badly. "He doesn't have to. Everyone except Trevor knows that he's the favorite, because Tim's hardest on him. That kid is his perfect little soldier, trained just short of Vida style all his life. The other one Tim raised is trying for a normal run of things with law school and Tim doesn't think the youngest is his, but Tyler is the spitting image of his older brother, so I'm betting Tim's in denial because the boy only knows how to hold a gun because Trevor's taught him," he explained, but it was so much easier to discuss someone else's problems than his own, and Tim had enough of them right about then.
Honestly, he and Clio really ought to have a sit-down for coffee or something at some point, just to give them someone unbiased in their usual messes to chat with, because there wasn't a single person who could have (and may have) told him that Heather wasn't his without it digging in deep and stinging like hell, but there was that smile as she kept yet another person from trying to accidentally murder themselves on him, then the comment, and there was nothing about the way she said it that spoke of anything except honesty and....experience. He'd gleaned very quickly from her that she knew a thing or two about soulmates and who she was looking for, but this just sounded like more of the same. "I know."
Finally, they came to Sal, and while Eli wasn't typically the sort to seek out the man's company, he sure as hell wasn't complaining about swiftly taking the most protected seat at the table right then. It was usually Sal's, but he noticed very keenly that the old bastard had left it open. "I'm not that sure you'd really want to. She's possibly the craziest of the bunch, with one potential exception. She can land any aircraft on anything, though. It's impressive, not that I was paying too much attention the last time she did it."
"There are many different levels of crazy, Eli, and hers is more fun than most," he pointed out, but then, he also knew that Ketevan had more history than he wanted to tangle with, even if he didn't quite have all of the details. The sentiment behind his remark remained, but given the 'what if' nature of it, it ended up being all bluster.
"About that last time she did it, what had your attention so occupied that you weren't watching such an impressive landing?" he asked, setting his drink down with an appraising lift to his eyebrows that only got a dry look out of Eli. This wasn't the first time Sal had tried to find out what happened during that whole thing, but it was the first time in front of Clio. He wasn't sure if that would help his case or not, but he was intrigued to find out. Even if he knew by that point that they were not going to get together, he could recognize that introducing them and pushing them at each other had formed some sort of closeness. Good.
In that regard, he really was being something of a meddling old man, just trying to look out for their best interests, which was pretty ironic when one considered Eli's general assumption that anything Sal was trying to talk him into was bad news. He had his moments, but he honestly thought both of them were far too 'alone in the world' for their own good. "Was that the time I felt your spirit wandering around the city a long way from home? Tricky business, that. Wouldn't want to do it unless I was desperate. You usually have too much sense for those kind of moves, Eli."
He knew better. Eli had helped him deal with someone who'd wandered too far from their body and let something else take it over, so he knew for a fact that his protege would never do it lightly. His assumption? Eli had to be in very grave danger to attempt it, possibly even dying to get that kind of distance so quickly, and he wanted to know what the hell had been happening. That he'd gotten into contact with souls that had been in the helicopters and in that warehouse to die in Eli's presence didn't help his curiosity, since there was no actual reason for any of it to have happened; the helicopters following them hadn't been shot down and the men in the warehouse had simply died. Now Eli was walking around with a death touch. Color Sal incredibly curious about what had been going on with his almost-son.
"It was," Eli offered mildly, and that was it. Sal waited, and Eli looked at a menu like there was nothing else to add. Little shit.
"We're going to talk about that situation sooner or later."
"Most of that situation is classified, Sal. The rest is personal."
"The dead don't care about classified, I already know all of that." Eli's eye roll at his dismissive annoyance would have been more impressive if Sal hadn't been training the kid since he was still in grade school and gotten the full brunt of his attitude for so many years, but he leaned forward, pointing a finger at his student. "You're in over your head. Either you picked up a few new tricks that I should know about, or you have some dangerous friends."
Clio kept her lips pursed when Sal accused Eli of being both in over his head and having dangerous friends - the former wasn't entirely true but the latter most certainly was. Kes may have been crazier than a bag of cats, but she was old Fae, and old Fae came with old problems. Honestly, Clio could have been a Therrayan for as much as she knew about the Fae in general, let alone what she knew in specifics. There weren't too many who existed that had any sort of power that she didn't at least know about, but if they ever stepped foot into the Excelsior, best believe she had an entire dossier on them.
And nobody knew that she knew. That was the fun part. Of course, you didn't spend your entirety of existence simultaneously searching for your other half and planning to take down the rulers of the Light and Dark Courts without learning everyone's secrets.
It became kind of obvious that Sal was lacking some key details about Eli's life - Claudia, namely. She'd asked about Heather because she knew that was a hell of an adjustment period. She hadn't asked about Claudia because as far as she had been told, things were fine - Lucifer knifing her at the Masquerade and swapping her power on Eli would be new, but they hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of that yet, and ironically it was part of the reason for Eli's visit to begin with.
"Okay, maybe save your interrogation for another time," she said gently, before Sal and Eli got into another one of their 'which one of us is more stubborn' matches. She glanced over her shoulder, snapping for someone to bring drinks. At least that they could all agree on. Someone brought over the 'usual'; a bourbon rocks for Eli, gin and tonic for Sal, and a dirty martini for Clio. One thing she did enjoy - being supernatural without being supernatural meant that she could still have just one or two drinks and be good for the rest of the evening. Of course, since she'd gotten into the habit of a martini with dinner on a regular basis, just one didn't cut it much anymore. But she still liked the taste. Eli said it tasted like she was drinking salt water, and that was mostly true.
"Well, gentlemen, I think I'll leave you to it, and take my drink to go," she suggested. She leaned down to give Sal a kiss on the cheek. "None for you, I'm afraid," she said, smiling at Eli.
Sal was indeed at a bit of a loss when it came to anything to do with Claudia, and that was intentional on Eli's part. He didn't necessarily trust Sal with a reaper as a 'daughter-in-law', or whatever the man might get into his head, even though Claudia wasn't technically a reaper anymore. Since Lucifer had yanked her powers, she'd been human, and they'd been trying to come up with a solution for that, but it hadn't stopped the two of them from getting close. Considering how complicated that was, he wasn't about to tell his sometimes dangerously opportunistic mentor about the situation. Sal wasn't quite on Papa Aristide's level, but he played his own games, and Eli wasn't a fan of being a pawn. It made this shit with Lucifer extra annoying, actually.
Annoying enough that he was at The Excelsior, talking with Sal far too regularly and trying to figure out what the hell to do about it all, and he didn't even know what was about to be, in his opinion, the worst part of the whole ordeal. That didn't come until after Clio had broken up Sal's attempt to gain information Eli didn't want to give him and had drinks arranged, though without her presence, Eli wasn't sure how the rest of this conversation was going to go. If he could keep Sal on the topic at hand, maybe not too bad, but he really didn't want to get too deeply into who Claudia was with the man. He managed a smile along with a shrug that sort of said 'such is my life' without looking too broken up about the lack of a kiss, but someone approaching the table very quickly took the majority of his attention. Sal hadn't mentioned anyone else joining them to Eli, probably for a reason.
"My apologies, I hope I didn't leave you waiting too long."
The wide-eyed look on Eli's face fortunately didn't come complete with his mouth hanging open, but it still wasn't a terribly flattering look on him, but frankly, he'd never seen this bastard outside of some pretty serious, confidential files. Marcus Walker, affectionately referred to as 'Baba Yaga' by the monsters and criminal world alike, in a sharp white shirt and black suit, was taking an open seat and their table. A glance at Sal showed positively no surprise, and the look on Clio's face was honestly the most unreadable he'd ever seen, so he was back to staring at the terrifying bastard, instead.
"You've got to be kidding me. Sal, you did not fucking invite him here, tell me you didn't," he hissed, turning to the man in question and just getting a smug sort of look in return. Jesus Christ.
"Agent Burress, how good to finally meet you. Or do you prefer Sterling?" If possible, the look on Eli's face soured further, but he smiled again, sharper and absolutely fake.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Walker. Or do you prefer Boogeyman? Monster under the bed? Do you actually go bump in the night?" he asked, tone gone playful in that dangerous sort of way when he knew shit was getting serious. This man shouldn't be in this country, nevermind city.
"Sterling, then, I see. No, I'm usually fairly quiet, I'll admit."
"Well, I see you're both fucking acquainted, that's nice," Sal cut in, leaning back in his chair with an irritated sigh and glance between them. "Clio, this is Mr. Marcus Walker. Mr. Walker, this is Miss Clio Jones, my assistant. She was just on her way out, other business, you understand."
Clio had been just about to leave when Marcus arrived, and there was something to be said about his timing, indeed. She listened to he and Eli trade insults, however more politely his seemed to be dealt - which was actually kind of funny, because he sounded just like Sal - but honestly, she couldn't really say she was paying attention to anything that was being said. Oh, she heard noise that sounded like talking, and later she'd probably dissect every word and analyze it for her own obsessive benefit, but right now? She finished her martini in one long gulp as the men took little stabs at eachother, and got everyone's attention by thumping her glass down on the table.
"I'm staying," she said abruptly, literally cutting Sal off. The way she said it made it sound like any argument was going to be met with more of whatever sudden attitude that was, and she softened the harshness of her announcement by smiling in her beautiful, glamorous way, and softening her expression. It was important to note that she was looking at him and only him as she cleared some of her blonde hair from the shoulder of her dark red dress and held out her hand to him.
"So lovely to meet you finally, Mr. Walker," she said.
She heard Eli make a choking noise behind them and decided he was damned lucky she couldn't touch him, or she'd have kicked him right in his shin as soon as she sat down at that table.
Finding the man he'd mostly heard of as Agent Vance Burress seated at the table with Sal and a frankly gorgeous blonde may have surprised Marcus, but he brushed it off quickly enough for some small level of satisfaction over the surprise from the Agent himself upon realizing who was joining them. Both of their reputations obviously preceded them, but his carried a little more weight; not that he wasn't impressed with Agent Sterling's work, because he'd heard some very impressive things in that regard, but Marcus killed things for a living and Eli did not. He could understand why Sterling might get a little flustered over his presence, even expected it, but it didn't stop him from pushing his advantage to ensure that whatever he had to do here wasn't made more difficult. If Sterling knew that he knew who he really was, then the chances that he'd take stupid risks under the assumption that he had safety in his aliases would drop. Marcus may not actually drop by his house and murder him and anyone he held dear, but the 'monster' rumors certainly implied much more than he was guilty of.
The 'threat' got some aggression back, which was about what he expected from a man of Sterling's resume, but Marcus didn't walk into any situation half-cocked if he could help it. He wanted to know who Godric's little friend was, and he was both impressed and intrigued - if Sterling was this involved with Godric, then there was a lot more to him than even Marcus knew right about then. Hidden depths.
Then, of course, there was Miss Clio Jones, who was supposedly leaving, which was a damn shame, until Sal almost had the words out and she downed her martini all at once, set the glass down a little too hard and declared that she'd do no such thing. Her eye contact with him as she did this was flawless, which had to mean something, but he was far too involved with the blue or her eyes, that glowing smile and the gold in her hair as she tossed it over her shoulder and offered her hand to him. For all of those reasons and countless more that he didn't consider in the moment, he stood once more to take her hand, a bit of a curious smile curving over his lips as he regarded her. She was...enchanting.
"You say 'finally' like you've been waiting. I hope not too long," he said, even as he could hear Sterling make some unpleasant sound, but Marcus was surprisingly unconcerned with him. Instead, he only released her hand because of social requirements and to pull out a chair for her. "Please, I'd be delighted if you joined us."
She bit back a laugh as he said he hoped she hadn't been waiting too long - that would never get old, did he have to say that every lifetime? She supposed she always gave him the opportunity, though, didn't she? It had become almost sequential, though some versions of him were more skeptical than others. This one would probably be a task of great undertaking - men with his reputation didn't often concern themselves with women for long, however beautiful they might have been.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said smoothly, smiling again at him. When he pulled out the chair for her, she inclined her head. "Thank you, Mr. Walker," she said graciously. She took her seat, positively ensconced with him right up until the point that Sal cleared his throat and shook the ice in his glass to signal he was ready for another drink. The boy came back 'round for Walker's order, and they all made their requests, though Clio politely declined - for now. She was going to have to play this one close to the chest, and alcohol wouldn't help her do that very well.
"Gentlemen," Sal said, figuring at this point that the night couldn't get any weirder. "What exactly are we going to do about our little... problem?"
The moment they mentioned that Fae were involved, Clio would have plenty of input - but right up until that point, she kept quiet, mostly trying not to stare at Marcus. She would have to research him, of course, but his reputation didn't bother her at all. There had been a few instances where the roles had been significantly reversed, after all - fair was fair.
She seemed amused by his comment, which he hadn't expected to be funny at all, but she already confused him a little. He was going to ask Godric about her after this meeting, because she was already far more distracting than other women he'd met, and while he could attribute some of that to her beauty, he had been around beautiful monsters in the past. That wasn't it. Was she human? Unlikely, though he'd guessed so when he initially walked up. That he intended to ask after her already said something.
"I guess not, but I'd still like to hear it," he told her, and he may have surprised himself by meaning it. He was more than capable of charming a lovely young woman and had on occasion, but flirtations were typically not meant to be anything more than that. There was a task required of them, but he was far more interested in the lovely little puzzle seated beside him than the scotch on the rocks he'd ordered or the prompting from Sal.
Sal, who was looking at him like he was the puzzle, while Sterling simply looked irritated as all hell. "Maybe you should start by outlining exactly what your little 'problem' is, Mr. Godric, and then perhaps I can tell you what I can do about it. Right now, all I know is that you seem to have a serious monster problem that someone tried to fix by bringing in an even bigger monster."
"That's fair. You should tell Aristide how much you approve of his plan," Eli remarked into his drink, finishing it off because a refill was showing up with Marcus' first, and he was going to enjoy two or three. He sure as hell couldn't go any further, not and risk sloppy movement with his condition, but Sal didn't bother even acknowledging Eli's comments.
"A practitioner by the name of Baron Lazare sprung the locks keeping the fae underdark from getting anywhere near our world, and it's been widening ever since. The last time anything like this happened was back in the early 1900's, it was half the glimpse we're currently getting and we still haven't heard the end of it thanks to that crackpot writer. Bigger nasties are coming through every day, and I don't, for one, want to know if Cthulhu was actually in there or just a figment of that moron's imagination."
"You know I don't take on fae lightly, Sal," Marcus offered quietly, to which the man waved his hand like that was a minor thing.
"These are ancient things, primal and not very bright. The bigger ones are just powerful, and getting moreso. The guilds are trying to balance them, but Aristide pulled Lucifer out of his box as a much bigger fix. He's been effective, if nothing else, because he seems to think letting a bunch of creepy crawlies ravage his world before he takes it over is disgusting, but he's going to win and we need a plan for putting him down when he does."
"You called me to kill the Devil himself?"
"Rumor has it you're the one you call when you want to kill the boogeyman. No bigger boogey than this," Eli offered, but he didn't look too keen on the whole thing.
"I'm not sure killing him is even possible, so both of you just relax. We need to put him back in his cage, though."
This was not in his job description.
Clio was all but ensconced by Mr. Walker, which was obvious by the way that she blatantly kept staring at him over her drink. It wouldn't have been obvious to outsiders, of course, but Sal noticed and Eli definitely noticed. She doubted she'd have to do much in the way of explaining to Eli, at least - Sal, on the other hand... She'd be dodging those questions for the rest of this lifetime.
She had her second one by the time the actual meat of the conversation was hit. At the mention of Fae, her pretty features visibly twisted into a grim expression. She dropped her olive into her glass with a loud splash, then rubbed her fingers against one another in distaste. "Because of course it would be Fae," she muttered.
Her remarks didn't go unnoticed but were ignored in favor of the solution - which wasn't really a solution at all. Lucifer to kill the Fae, and then Marcus to kill Lucifer? No, that wouldn't do.
"Gentlemen, if I may - I'm (sadly) somewhat of an expert in the dealings of the Fae, both Light and Dark - and beyond. The things you're referring to are called the Sluagh, and I don't quite know that your crowned Prince of Darkness can deliver on the promise of putting them away." In reality, he might, but she didn't doubt in the least that it would involve drug-dealing with either Baron Lazare or, even worse, Taranis, the current and undisputed reigning Lord of the Underdark. Prick. She held back on her thoughts of the devil, though - that would probably show too much of her history.
"I have a far better alternative than the body-snatching denizen of Hell. I know of one person, here, living today, who has not only become ace at defeating Sluagh and the ilk, but actually lived and survived in that "other" world for several years." She was speaking of course of Teddy McClane. The irony in the fact that she was suggesting someone who had angelic lineage over the very first angel was lost on all of them, because nobody really knew about that part yet.
To be fair, nobody in the room really thought that Lucifer had been a good idea, or that killing him was much of an option. Eli was being a dick when he pointed out that there was no bigger Boogeyman, but he did get that containing Lucifer was now an issue. His contacts in the guilds also suggested that they were only barely keeping a lid on this mess as it stood, and a few government agencies that would never publicly admit their opinions on such matters seemed very concerned about a few 'incidents' that had cropped up. Cleaning this up as soon as possible was really a necessity, even without his own personal stakes in it. That didn't entirely mean he was fully on board with all of this, though he certainly couldn't miss Clio's obvious interest in Walker. He just didn't like it.
He liked it so little, in fact, that there was some part of him that actually wanted to literally text her from across the table in an attempt to make her explain what the hell was going on, even if he had a damn good idea that he already knew. Walker had seriously better not be that person she was waiting for, damn it. Eli couldn't help watching the other two men at the table, obviously forced to be involved in the topic at hand, but looking for reactions to Clio. He was getting them.
Sal was quietly observing her, a little narrowing of his eyes the only real indication that he hadn't let it go in favor of listening to what she had to offer as a solution, but it was there. He wasn't nearly so out of the loop that he'd have to question her endlessly like she was afraid of, but he'd have some very pointed queries, namely regarding the extent of her curse and what Walker's place in it was. There was a chance he had an idea, as well, but he was less certain than Eli simply from lack of information. He wasn't the most out of the loop at the table, however, and that pleased him to some degree. Walker himself was addressing the situation professionally and exactly as Sal could have expected, but his attention was split just enough for a sharp eye to notice when his eyes would flick over to Clio, whether she was talking or merely fussing with her drink.
"Sounds like you called the wrong guy, Sal," Walker pointed out, leaning back from the table just the slightest bit.
"Not too fast. Having McClane as a back-up to help get rid of these Sluagh if Lucifer doesn't fully deliver or pulls a fast one is important, but he's still on the loose, and we can't have that. Aristide has a plan, but with something of this magnitude, I want some insurance in place so we don't bring about the actual end of the world. Considering who we're dealing with, we need to plan for a double-cross."
If Clio had the knowledge that only Lucifer held in that nugget of his, she would have known that there were plenty of ways to tantalize and otherwise utterly distract his body-snatching ass long enough for them to put him back in check. But she didn't, and honestly, it would take a mighty large prospect to deviate his attention entirely from completely fucking over the people who had cut him loose in the first place. Boy was he going to be pissed when he found out about the rules of jumping bodies, though. Time was on his side, indeed - but not lineage.
But Clio didn't know that. Any input she could offer on Lucifer would more or less boil down to "don't trust him" and nobody sitting at that table was fool enough to trust him, soooo that sort of left her ass out on advice. She could deal with him, but even still, her presence would probably just inspire him to splatter her across a wall like he'd done a few times before - just for fun. If there was anything the Prince o' Darkness hated, it was an immortal who didn't want to be that way. And as luck would have it for Clio, she'd had a habit of making bets with him over the ages and winning, and if the song about him fiddling his way to pitfall was any indication, the devil hated to lose a bet.
"Too bad we don't know any angelic types that aren't stingy with their help," she said finally. She was sure there were, among them in the registrar that Sal kept, individuals who had angelic blood, but it was probably so diluted down it would be more or less something shiny for Lucifer to break in two. Only Teddy really had tapped into his, not that she knew, and the Smoke siblings having angelic blood was something only Benjamin knew about and that motherfucker was probably next in line for Lucifer's spot in Hell if he ever got permanently offed or keyed away in some box for eternity.
She looked at Sal, pointedly. "We don't... do we?" Because if anyone would know, it would be him. Beneath the table, she absently brushed Walker's shoe with her own, and though the look on her face said 'accident', the smile after didn't.