Night's Omen

 The skyline was dark and hazy; the clouds hung low on the night sky, forcing the usual light pollution closer in to the city and creating an eerie glow. It was unusually quiet, and Antoine stood on the balcony of his hotel room, a cigarette twisted between his lips as he looked out over the scape below and beyond. He pulled the cigarette away as he pressed something to his face; a single barrel that looked like a short telescope rested against his eye - the AN/PVS-14. It was an MNVD, otherwise known as a souvenir he'd kept for a rainy day (or night, as it appeared it would be), and at the movement on the street below, he was glad for it. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

So, it was true. Midnight really had dropped the hammer here in the states. "Can't catch a fucking break, can I?" he murmured, flicking the cigarette off of the high balcony and turning inside his room. He picked up a large case with a tired sigh and headed for the door, then to the stairwell, following it up to 'Roof Access'. It was only a few weeks after what had happened in Europe, leading Antoine on a wild chase all goddam over the country - the last Onyx member who had a hand in aiding the situation along was a runner, and actually had help from vampires in Midnight - he was glad to be in the US, anonymous, and away from it all. He probably had hits on him all over Europe and no doubt Australia, too - he'd done his best to stay off-grid in the city, knowing that the US Bruja factions would probably adhere to any calls for blood on the vicious murders of guild leaders anywhere.

He tried not to think about the trouble he'd be in if he were caught; to be honest, the thing that scared him the most about himself was that he kind of just didn't... care. He didn't. He tried, but he couldn't. He knelt down once he had a good vantage point and opened the case, pulling out his rifle. The familiar weight of it in his hands was like an anchor that brought him back to reality, planted him firmly in the here and now. There was no past and no future; there was only the task at hand. That's all his life was anymore, a series of actions, reactions, rinse, repeat. He didn't allow himself a moment to feel, to think outside of the immediate. He couldn't.

The black DPMS NATO REPR set up nicely, as it always had. The 7.62x51 rounds were pre-loaded, and as he smacked the cartridge in and gave the weapon a final check-over, he realized that his heart didn't even race anymore. Midnight had taken everything from him, even the cruel joy of picking off the enemy one by one from his perch so high above. The telltale crack of the rifle rang out just as a clap of thunder shook the city. Lily, he thought to himself. Nora. James. James. He repeated their names over and over with each shot, culling the vampires down by a large margin. He sighted in on a Japanese vampire who'd just walked out of a building with a shorter blonde in tow, pulling the trigger without hesitation.

The blow from behind him startled him, if nothing else. Taro brought a booted foot down, hard, aiming for Antoine's back a second time, but Antoine, not too keen on being stomped to death, rolled out of the way at the last minute. The REPR still in his hand, he raised it - short range, he'd put a hole squarely through the fucker, whether the gun was meant for that or not. The rifle suddenly flew from his hands. It doesn't matter, Antoine thought. Taro kicked again, and Antoine sprang up, catching his leg in the process. He brought his fists down hard on the knee, shattering the joint in an instant; the same instant that Taro brought his other leg up and planted it firmly against Antoine's chest. He felt ribs break, but unlike the vampire, his wouldn't heal in a few moments.

It didn't matter. It was like the pain hadn't even registered; not even when Taro got a good blow to his face and Antoine's mouth filled with blood did he so much as flinch. Instead, he smiled at Taro, and it was a crazy slasher smile, the kind that let you really know that nobody was home upstairs. Then his adrenaline kicked in for real, and all of those years of training flashed before his eyes as he proceeded to give every bit as good as he got. It wasn't that he out-matched Taro; physically, he wasn't as strong - but there was a strange ferocity to his hits, and the percentage that connected grew higher and higher as Taro, already having been worn down from fighting just before, began to -

he had begun to lose.

The rain was literally coming down in sheets, in waves; Antoine couldn't hear anything over the rushing in his own ears, though. He had no idea how he was still up on two feet, and he had no idea that the vampire was wondering that exact thing, either. Even tossing him around and into things hadn't worked, and that usually did the trick. He just didn't feel pain, not with the cold rain beating against his skin like stinging needles and the dull ache of nothing in his chest, the nothing colliding with the rage and turning into some strange animal that came out through his fists and elbows and knees and shins and feet.

The vampire, who had been taking a knee, rose suddenly, and with the celerity that had been previously not helping him any, managed to take Antoine by the waist. Instead of toppling him to the ground as gracefully as he thought would happen, he felt something hot and jabbing in his side. He looked down to see the (hunter?) smiling triumphantly as he plunged an enchanted knife hilt-deep into the soft part of his abdomen. Taro didn't know if it was Macht or Firestone or fucking Fae, but it hurt, and he was so over this fight. Initially he'd thought that Antoine was a simple guildmember doing his part, but when he saw the gun, he realized who he was (a vampire never forgets). Now that it was apparent that the omnicidal Onyx member at the top of international hit lists wasn't there to be anyone's friend, Taro was totally cool with turning him over to Diamond.

If he didn't fucking die first. He clamped down on Antoine as hard as he could and apparated them to Diamond before whatever magic the blade had ceased to allow him access to his power. They landed on the floor in the literal center of the Diamond guildhall, still tangled on one another, before Antoine kicked Taro off of him. He jumped up, soaking wet, but he was too disoriented from the sudden change of scenery. Taro could always tell when someone had never done it before, and rolled onto his back, cursing, as he heard the hunter evacuate his stomach not far off.

He heard yelling, but he was fading. Taro hadn't had an ass beating in a long time, and he wasn't quite sure how to take what had happened to him. Angrily, his last act before going into unconsciousness, was to yank the knife out of him and fling it; it clattered uselessly at the rushing feet of people coming to see what the noise had been. He hoped they skewered the Onyx defect alive with it.

 Isabelle had been walking with Noelani and talking when Taro and someone just apparated into the hall, startling her if only because Taro was on his side and had a knife sticking out of him, while the man kicked off of him and got up. She looked at Noelani, mouth open slightly in confusion, but Noelani was already springing forward.

"Get the knife! I'll get Gunnar!" she said, giving her arm a squeeze before turning on her heel and darting back down the hall.

Belle looked at the knife as it lay on the floor, then to the man who stood, soaking and bloodied; he also looked at the knife, then at her. She blinked a few times - he looked familiar, through the blood and whatnot. "Just stay where you are," Isabelle warned, her accent betraying her origin. She passed around the base of Taro's body for the knife, hand up. She saw Aaron come at him from behind and began to stand slowly, confident that he'd be apprehended.

Except, he threw an elbow back and caught Aaron pretty decently by surprise. The weapon master recovered quickly, though; he hadn't necessarily wanted to come to blows over this, knowing Taro would have never brought someone to them without a reason, but when Belle held up the knife and said that it was enchanted, he knew that he might have to actually put this dude down, useful or not. Toe to toe with a human was one thing; Aaron was still not used to the weight that came with being bound to an Elemental, and despite having an extra magical oomph, he couldn't see that it would help him much. Not until, of course, the man landed a punch that should have shattered his goddamn jaw, and it didn't.

He could absolutely get used to this mumbo jumbo shit.

Aaron returned fire as good as he got, but the fight soon went to ground. He had the advantage, but to his amazement, the guy just wouldn't quit. "WHY WON'T YOU STAY DOWN?" Aaron yelled in frustration, connecting with a blow that should have been crippling and yet somehow only elicited a loud roar. He went end over as Antoine got the upper hand, yelling as his arm was twisted at a strange angle. Suddenly, the pressure was alleviated - Antoine was picked up by his neck by Isabelle, who had finally figured out why she recognized him. With a toss, she flung him off of Aaron, then stepped over the weapons master and went to her quarry.

"I know who you are now," she said, her voice low. She fixed her dark eyes on Antoine, who was bloodied beyond the point of recognition now. "Was it worth it?" She referenced his murderkillspree, of course, advancing on him as she drew her power in.

"Yes," he said firmly, then spit out what he was certain was a tooth from somewhere in the back of his mouth. How in the hell... At once, he was hit with a burning, oppressive sort of pain. It felt like his head was going to explode suddenly, and he raised broken hands up, bloodied knuckles beating at his temples as though to release the cranial pressure.

Belle stood, a look of satisfaction on her face, as a thin line of blood made its way down from her nose. The pain fed her power, and the more it got, the more she wanted. She stepped into his head, trying to find out what it was that was keeping him going so she could break it and end this nonsense.

"Sweet!" she heard Murphy yell. "Back off!"

It sounded like he was far away, under water, somewhere else. It was just Isabelle in Antoine's mind, in the pain and the blood and the - bleach? She approached the scene as one from the outside would, standing third party to Rajz as he poured it into his throat, forcing his jaw open, pouring over him that emotional control that tugged on his fear and his desperation. She was too far in, and she felt it, too.

"Rajz," she whispered. "Shit." She had to get out, had to get out; Antoine was in her Thrall, but not in any way she'd experienced before. Once he felt her in his head, once he'd latched on to her fear, he just pushed more of the images her way. Terror. Pain. Degradation. Violence and violence and violence -

A sharp slap on her face brought her out of the Thrall, and she looked up at Murphy, eyes wide. She had a full on nosebleed, and it was in her mouth, the taste of copper making her nauseous. "I tried to warn you," the Fae said, a shrug his only sympathy. She stepped back into the outstretched hand of Aaron, who pulled her away from the hunter that was kneeling on the ground, forward on his hands, and grinning at them.

"Fuck the lot of you," Antoine spat. "Kill me. I won't beg."

It wasn't often that Aaron had to step up and take a man down in Diamond's own halls, but to be fair, it was damn hard to find the place and none of the vampires seemed inclined to bring people back with them like this.  Taro had to have been seriously messed up to do it, and even without getting a good look at the knife he'd yanked from his gut, the weapons master could guess from the fact that the vampire looked like shit and stayed where he was laying that he was fucked.  When his initial attempt to apprehend without much in the way of violence was rejected with an elbow to the face, it was on, but the fucker just wouldn't quit.  It took hand to hand, moving to ground and finally Isabelle stepping in to get the bastard to slow down, and Aaron stared between the two, not sure what was happening until Murphy cursed and slapped the shit out of Belle.  It seemed to snap her out of something, and only when Aaron saw her face afterward did he realize that she'd been losing.

Who the fuck was this guy?

The bonded human was back on his feet and watching the man on his knees carefully lest it all begin again, but Murphy had already drawn a gun and looked perfectly prepared to take care of business.  "Picked the wrong party to crash, lad," the Irishman informed him, and Aaron could have sworn the intruder would be dead before he could blink again, except...the entire room suddenly twisted on its axis, badly enough that even with the elemental bond, he stumbled and nearly hit his knees.  Murphy wavered, looking around with narrowed eyes for the culprit, but before he could determine who it was or fire on Antoine, a blur hit him from the side and both shapes went crashing through chairs and across the huge table they all sat at for briefings.  There were shouts from the door where Noelani and Gunnar were rushing in, the healer ignoring the current fight after a quick glance at it in favor of getting to Taro, but the guild leader shouted and went towards Murphy and whatever had hit him.  Not that it did any good, since the indestructible woman was sent skidding backwards from some blast that involved a lot of light and a shriek from within the mess.

Aaron tried to multitask well enough to watch the fight as well as the human, who he kicked the legs out from under to keep on the floor until whatever the fuck was happening died down.  "Stay the fuck down," he snapped, and it sucked that he had to really put all of his attention on the bastard when he really wanted to know what the fuck was going on.  Noelani moved forward like she intended to bust in as soon as she had the chance, but whatever was happening was all magic and all fast. 

At the entrance of two new bodies, Irene and Benjamin, Aaron glanced their way and saw the blond gesture almost imperceptively to the human on his knees by the weapons master and her husband nod, then regard the small tornado knocking chairs sprawling across the floor.  He scowled further than he already was, walked over to snatch up (surprise!) the wrought iron poker from the fireplace, approached the mess that was Murphy and his attacker, and took a quick, sharp swing with his weapon.  There was a new shriek, and the mess settled to reveal their fae contact, Desmond Stark, looking like hell warmed over.  Huh.  Remind Aaron not to ever piss that fucker off.

The real shocker came not from Stark, though.  It was Murphy that they were all staring at (all except for Benjamin, who had the poker still leveled on a very stunned fae clutching at the back of his head), because it was Murphy who didn't look nearly as weathered, old and human as he was supposed to.  Aaron prided himself on being the epitome of a confident, straight man who loved everything about the female form and he thought that man was completely and utterly gorgeous.  Like, he shined with it, all smooth, sharp features, golden hair with red hues to it and strong, graceful limbs, and with a glance up, that crisp, accented voice had a single crude word for them all.  "Fuck."

A second later, it was as though Murphy turned the lights off on them all, and he was standing there looking exactly like his usual self with the lines in his face and the quirky turn to his thin lips not amused right at the moment, but very, painfully serious.  It was Aaron who said what they all had to be thinking.  "WHAT THE FUCK."

It should have been business as usual while Desmond was in Diamond's stronghold, and he was still of the opinion that he was only allowed there because Murphy and Eithne vouched for him (old fae contacts, and then of course he could have spilled their secret, not that it was a threat he'd make), he was charming as all hell, and he got results when they needed them.  There was work to be done, or so he heard, but they were on the way to Diamond's big, pretty planning table in the great hall of their castle when the noise started, and so they weren't far when it came down to racing to see what had just appeared for them in the great room. 

Desmond, despite being highly trained and very dangerous, was more than willing to stay to the back of the group and let the badass hunters defend their own base, if necessary.  He almost got the chance to regret that decision for the rest of his life.

When he came into the room at his own leisurely pace, Noelani already off to get Gunnar, he was prepared to crack a joke about security and get an idea as to what it took to break into this place and what had already failed.  He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face staring down Murph's gun, or the fae in hiding to be pulling the trigger.  He didn't consciously decide to tip reality for those present, but his own reality went so lopsided at the same time that he released a blast of power with the intent to do something, anything to stop that gun from going off, that he didn't care what it was.  It was enough to halt Murphy, and enough that when Desmond shot towards him, he didn't kill Antoine.

Antoine, his brother, who was supposed to be dead.

Of course, Desmond hadn't confirmed that.  He hadn't done so because who the fuck survives Midnight?  He'd gone looking and seen what remained of Lily, Nora and little James, and so when Antoine was released, he didn't know about it.  He didn't want to know, and anything going on in that part of the world, he hid from.  He wouldn't dare let himself catch wind of his brother's death, or the details, because the other three that he'd failed would haunt him forever.  In much the same way, his brother must not have gone looking into his 'death', since the poor bastard he'd sent in his place had eventually lost the glamour and dental records revealed him for who he was.  Choosing ignorance didn't change the fact that Desmond seriously believed that his brother was just as horrifically dead as Lily, Nora and little James, and that didn't change the horror and panic of finding him alive now and under the gun.  Whatever happened after this, he couldn't let Antoine go here and now.

So, he did the only thing he could think of to do, and he hit Murphy like a speeding train, flipping the two of them through solid, high-backed chairs and over the massive table.  That in itself could have been suicide, but apparently, there was something so deeply ingrained in Desmond on this issue that he just wouldn't quit, much like Antoine had been with Taro, Aaron and Isabelle.  Murphy should have crushed him instantly with the kind of age (that Seelie was centuries old), experience and magical ability he had backing him, but Desmond just spit raw power fueled by desperation, with his own training in there.  He'd been described as vicious and 'tenacious' in the past, and apparently, that only got more ridiculous when he was faced with his believed-dead little brother under the gun.  Who knew?

That he held his own for so long was utterly impressive, and initially, there was no plan except to protect Antoine.  After they were trading physical and magical blows in close combat, Desmond was hanging on because he was too damn stubborn and upset not to, because he owed Antoine this win and when he won, he'd decide his brother's fate fair and square (he intended), but it became apparent even to him that he was going to lose eventually.  That was when his new place came into being, in a matter of seconds while he kept Murphy from putting him down and fired back as hard as he could - Murphy would win because he was older and stronger, but if Desmond made him expend as much energy as possible, he'd likely drop his glamour, and then the hunters in Diamond wouldn't be quite as worried about the human intruder or Desmond.  They could multitask well enough to deal with the two of them at some point, but Antoine would survive long enough for them to figure shit out.  Murphy would also survive, but he'd make a fantastic distraction.

It just meant the more powerful fae was going to be very angry with him for awhile.  That would suck, but for his brother, it was worth it.  Sorry, Murphy.

Naturally, Desmond wasn't banking on Benjamin walking in like the calm in the eye of a storm, picking up the iron poker and cracking him in the skull with it like he was a bad dog that was about to bite (not hard enough to cause damage, but with the fact that it was iron, it was enough to stun), or that the vampire would be so fucking accurate with the swing while he and Murphy were still wrestling around.  Murphy was just as weak against iron as he was, so that blow could have done the exact opposite of what Benjamin intended, but he was all cool confidence (and maybe a little hot anger) when he did it.  It ended the fight, that was for sure, and Desmond hadn't been wrong about Murphy.  Look at that.

Yeah, Murph was going to be hating him for awhile for blowing his cover, that much he was certain of, but once Aaron had asked the question that everyone except Antoine and Desmond was likely thinking, the changeling spoke up.  "That's my brother you got there, don't kill him!"

It had to be said, since Benjamin was still threatening him with the iron and he couldn't get up to go physically protect Antoine, and the human was being guarded by Diamond's Master-at-Arms, or whatever they chose to call him.  Desmond just called him Thor, and right then, he didn't trust even him and his good moral code to protect Antoine until Desmond himself could get over there.  At least if the group at large knew he wasn't a total stranger, maybe they'd keep him alive long enough for them all to figure out what was happening?  God, he hoped so.

 Antoine was pretty beaten up. In fact, Isabelle, had she not been emotionally raped by Rajz herself, may have actually severed the thread of strength that Antoine had been holding onto, which was now the only thing keeping him conscious. Of course, conscious and sane were two different things, and the sudden emergence of his brother (who, for the record, wasn't really his brother at all, since we're keeping the trauma congo line of information that Antoine doesn't know strong) who he had seen die (he hadn't) pushed him over the edge (as if he wasn't already over it, the Diamonds wouldn't fail to point out).

"No," he managed, the sound more a moan of pain and protest than a clear, articulate denial. He put his bloodied and broken hands to his face, fingerprinting the open wounds with even more blood as he shut his eyes (the right, anyways, since the left was almost swollen shut at this point). He could hear laughter, as clear as day, and when he opened his eyes, he was on his knees on the floor of a white room, a gorgeous bronze woman standing over him and saying something he couldn't understand.

"I didn't 'break him', Iloquil," another vampire was correcting her. "He's already crazy. I'm just... giving him a nudge."

In reality, Antoine appeared to have gone totally catatonic. At least they didn't have to worry about him flipping out and killing anyone - for the moment - because he was fairly certain that what had just happened, and everything up to that point, had been a deranged hallucination. He wasn't seeing anyone or anything around him and ceased to react to the environment of the Diamonds; he had been stressed so hard by the presence of the power in his mind (however he had fought it off in the end) and by the rather abrupt appearance of his brother that he literally believed it all to be a figment of his imagination, and part of the cruel torture that Rajz had subjected him.

Irene was the first to really speak up, but only because everyone else was still totally on their toes. "I don't think he's here anymore, guys," she said softly, after gently removing the poker from her husband before he took another crack at someone. She elected to say nothing of the sudden shift in Murphy's glamour, but only because she would be the only one to have that much grace.

It was Noelani who, from the side of Taro, finally piped in, "Brother? You had a psychologically unhinged Onyx level 6 of a brother and you just neglected to mention that to us? Do you know how many times we've gotten bulletins about this guy?" She was unable to hide her anger, and it showed. He had come into her house and had caused a good bit of trouble. Why had Taro brought him? "This is why people who come from Midnight almost always catch a DQ and a bullet from the guilds," she muttered.

Isabelle only shook her head once; Murphy had, before her promotion, grilled her to the point where she thought she was going to be taken into a room and shot. Hunters that went to Midnight were seldom ever allowed positions in guilds again; too many of them went on savage revenge quests that endangered everyone around them. It was also why the guilds rarely every took survivors. She'd heard it happened in the US a few times - one such was the time bomb of a fox that had made Diamond wonder just how many "bombs" Niall had or would make in the future.

"You should lock him up," Sweet said. "He'll come out of it eventually."

Desmond might have considered getting up and at least hovering around Antoine, just in case someone got any bright ideas involving removal of the threat, or something, but Benjamin made it clear with that iron poker that he didn't want any movement, and Desmond was pretty okay with staying put if it meant no more cracks with it.  That was, until Irene took it away from her husband, and then the fae relaxed slightly, though he was still cautious; the iron wasn't too far away, and he wasn't interested in round two.

Apparently, Irene wasn't the only one with the grace not to mention Murphy's 'slip', since other than attacking the fae that wasn't second-in-command of the guild, Benjamin hadn't spared the Irishman a second glance, and Aaron looking completely confused was about the extent of other reactions.  Everyone seemed more willing to deal with Antoine and Desmond first, which had been exactly what the changeling hadn't wanted.  Fuck.

Yeah, 'fuck' about covered it, badly enough that when Irene pointed out that Antoine wasn't really 'with them' anymore, Desmond muttered the curse to himself and slowly got back to his feet, if only to have some level of dignity for the rest of this.  It also afforded him a better look at his brother, which didn't make him feel better when he saw how beat to hell the man was, but at least he could see that he was still alive.  That was more than he'd thought before Antoine and Taro showed up, so he'd take it, but he wasn't thrilled with this whole situation, or with these bastards focusing beyond normal guilds - most of them would have honed in on Murphy at this point, and locked up the great big question mark to deal with after they handled trust issues or whatever this was.  Professionals, man, sometimes he hated them.

That Noelani had good questions, and the only answers he had were either personal and emotional, or just not great, didn't make the situation feel any better from his end.  "Actually, I thought I had a dead Level 6 Onyx hunter of a brother, but considering what nightmare fuel that seeing the mutilated remains of my sister-in-law and her babies was, I wasn't looking to see my brother, as well, thank you very much," he griped, and as far as he was concerned, he had the right.  He'd never forget those images, and then there was the guilt that he didn't even want to openly admit, the failure.  He hadn't wanted to see more.

"I'm not a hunter, either.  Freelance, remember?  I didn't get any bulletins, or I'd have known to look for him, yeah?"  Made sense, right?  More than locking the bastard up, he figured.  "If he's so 'psychologically unhinged', you sure locking him up's the way to go?  I bet they had him locked up there, and that seems a little counter-productive to me.  Just a thought."

"Whatever we do with him, he needs to be treated," Gunnar pointed out, standing and marking Taro as being as close to 'good as new' as was possible just by leaving his side.  To be fair, he'd lingered longer than was necessary because he had no intention of getting involved in the rest of the mess, but now that things were calming down, people needed treatment, though he was hesitant regarding the fae.  "Is he fae, too?  He feels human."

Of course, so had Murphy, so there was that.  Shielding from a Smoke witch of Gunnar's power was impressive, but then, nobody in Diamond was weak.  Murphy had some power behind him, that much was apparent, and whatever had just happened didn't seem to have kept him quiet and awkward for long, but nobody there knew Murph to be awkward, anyway.  "You're pushin' your luck, Stark.  We lock the little bastard up until he doesn't feel so stabby anymore.  We can't deal with him on the loose whenever he feels like gettin' up to trouble.  You can join him, if that makes you feel better."

What Murphy didn't point out was that it make him feel better to see Desmond get his ass kicked by his psycho brother, but that was immature and petty, and he tried not to display those qualities too strongly.  It happened often enough, but part of not coming across as fae required not indulging certain qualities.  Obviously, that wasn't as important anymore, but that didn't change the habit. 

 Noelani pushed some of her hair back, pressing her hand on Belle's shoulder for a moment as she passed by the Arun. The witch's eyebrows were raised as she looked at Antoine, who had utterly checked out, and the physical contact broke her concentration. Noelani looked at Aaron for a moment, then to Belle.

"I don't think we have the full story," was all she said, acknowledging that the former hunter may have been part of a bigger picture. Onyx UK had done a great deal of cleaning up to make it seem as though they were absolved of any guilt; nobody had investigated because there didn't seem to need to be one. But Taro obviously had seen something in his head worth retrieving, worth enough that he almost killed himself doing it.

Or maybe he'd just seen Antoine's belief that his brother was dead, and clearly that wasn't the case, either.

"But, Desmond, I'm sorry, Murphy is right. We'll give him a large space, but he has to be restrained. Gunnar can tend to him, then we can try to get answers out of him." She folded her arms. "Get me a Triste," she said after a moment of thought. "If he's able to reject the witch from poking in his head, I don't think it'd be a good idea to try and influence him with anyone else whose ability is mental - I'd suggest Corinne, but I don't think her ability would work."

She frowned at his remark about being freelance and having not known to look for him. "None of us really knew," she said. "It isn't your fault. What I said was unfair." That was about as much an apology as anyone had ever heard from her, and she punctuated it by looking at Murphy for some back-up.

"Move him now, or wait for the Triste?" she asked. She glanced at Gunnar, too, since he also needed his input heard.

Desmond, despite being very interested in his brother and making sure there was no new terror about to appear for either of them, was paying his usual amount of attention to his surroundings and, specifically, the people.  Glamours were one of his most trained skills, which was why he was able to blast Murphy so hard without dazzling the group as well, and to convincingly portray anyone, he had to pay close attention.  Whether the Diamond members knew it or not, he'd been around all of them long enough to imitate any of them fairly well.  Impressive, since there were some he'd only observed for a few minutes, like Dante and Oksana, but it had been enough that he could have made it work.  He was intuitive about people that way, with Link being the only Diamond that he wasn't positive on, if only because Link was the same as him.  That didn't mean he wouldn't try, and couldn't pull something off with, but imitating another changeling was an interesting venture.

All of this ability to pick up on the tiniest details meant that he didn't miss Jordan putting her hand on the other woman's shoulder, or the way she seemed...lost after doing whatever metaphysical thing she'd tried with Antoine - Desmond had a feeling that it was a horrible thing that had happened, but he was at least proud that his brother had managed to spit a Diamond right back out.  Not many people could make that claim, and Antoine had physically taken on a few of them, then turned the tables on one magically, all as a human against non-humans.  He was more concerned the more he saw, but he appreciated that his brother could hold his own; that might be necessary in the future.

Aaron also took notice of Noelani's attention to Belle, and he inclined his head ever so slightly, not entirely sure what exactly had happened between Belle and the changeling's brother, but he wasn't letting anything else happen.  He was still new to all of this metaphysical shit, and fortunately didn't often have to deal with being rolled by anyone other than Azhure, and that...he had mixed emotions on.  He sure as hell didn't understand what it was that had made Taro risk his own skin bringing this guy here except that Desmond was his brother, but he didn't know the vampire to give too many shits about all but a few people, especially when he was putting himself at risk.  He'd seen Taro 'accidentally' use his telekinesis to swat a thrown knife off the course that would have put it in his chest and put it on course for Benjamin's.  Those two didn't work together often.

Desmond scowled at Noelani's rational responses, not mad at her for being rational (he preferred that more than anything, and appreciated the apology enough that he nodded stiffly and glanced from her to his brother), but more frustrated with the situation.  He didn't like that his brother was alive and about to be confined so that they could let a Triste poke around in his head, and being fae, he was just as prone to being flighty and emotional as any.  Actually, Murphy was probably the most even-keeled fae he'd ever met, and he figured that was just because the fucker was old as dirt and spent a hell of a lot of time with humans.  Patience. 

"We can move him, I promise he can't put up enough fight to stop us," Murphy pointed out, shrugging because he sure as hell didn't have to play up the 'human' factor in handling this threat after Desmond's smooth move.  "Up to Gunnar in the end, though.  Doc's orders."

"I can't calm him the way a Triste can, but I can keep him mellow enough to move him.  He needs medical treatment, anyway," the Smoke decided after a moment's quiet consideration.  Of everyone present, Arisson definitely had the calmest demeanor while still being warm (unlike Benjamin, who was totally on Desmond's shit list from now on), so the changeling was inclined to trust his opinion somewhat, but he still wasn't being left behind.

"If it's all the same to all of you, I'm going with you."

 Noelani acknowledged Desmond's instance in accompanying them, and honestly, she wouldn't have denied him that unless there was some serious issue - aside from what had obviously already occurred. It was a wonder what would cause her to panic. She had mostly reacted out of necessity for Taro's health. She opted not to comment on the humanity aspect that the vampires no doubt questioned. It was easy to forget that Lani was human because of her preternatural "diamond" bone structure, but that didn't mean she couldn't die by ways that a supernatural creature wouldn't (she did still breathe, after all). Diamonds had a habit of forgetting what went on below them from time to time; this may have been one of those times. There were plenty of humans who didn't have unique abilities that could kick a vampire's face in. In another world, Antoine may have even qualified for Diamond.

After carefully moving him to the infirmary, which was much like gently guiding a robot whose key had wound down to almost nothing, she took a few big steps back to try and look at the bigger picture. She had instructions for the Triste, at least, which she'd been trying to consider ever since it occurred to her that any sort of vampiric or otherwise mental ability would get them route null, or worse, a paradoxical reaction. When Chad finally did arrive, she took him by the arm quickly as he entered the room, guiding him right back out. She didn't want Desmond to hear her - freelance, friend of Diamond or not, he had a role to play in this simply by wanting to be in the room.

After briefly explaining what happened, which took all of the time that you'd imagine getting out of earshot would, Noelani turned to Chad, releasing his arm. "Ease his auras, don't go into his head. Gunnar is healing him, and once he's battle-ready, I've got a sneaking suspicion that he'll start fighting again. I don't know where he went in his head, but it was enough to push out Isabelle, who's a pretty highly trained witch." She wasn't going to say anything about the Midnight connection, because Chad had been with Diamond when Isabelle came to them. He would have already known - hell, he may have even done her psych evauls from time to time.

"If you do go into his head, I wouldn't go deep. He seems human, but then again, so do I. It's not that I don't have faith in you, it's just that I don't think you need a front row seat to whatever he will show you. If you can help keep him calm and maybe just anchor him in reality, Desmond talking to him should do the rest." She paused, taking a moment to sigh.

"I can't help feel like my house is slightly out of order when a hunter with a guild hit on him just pops up out of thin air adhered to one of my own with an enchanted knife." She made a noise as she realized she'd forgotten about the knife. "I need to make sure Eithne and Nicolette get their hands on that thing. You go back there and get ready to work. I'll have someone on standby if you exude too much energy, don't worry," she added, addressing the obvious feeding concerns. Tristes and vampires were enemies, but they weren't that different.

And with a few more words, Lani had headed back down the hall to find out where the knife had gone.

 Eithne hadn't been present for any of this cadology, although she did feel the power spike when Desmond decided to knock Murphy off balance, and that was enough for her to emerge from the musty old archives, a terse order for Nicolette to stay behind. By the time she got there, though, it had all happened as quickly as things tended to when she wasn't around. She had been itching to lose her glamour for a few minutes and blast someone with her light, but apparently there were more important things to do than feel useful and strong -

Like feel useful and smart.

Belle handed her a knife, wiping absently at a nose that didn't want to seem to stop bleeding. "Long story, but we need to know what it is," she said, waving away at Gunnar helping Noelani and her brother - and a third Fae (a goddamn Changling, Eithne knew from research, and she idly wondered DID THEY?).

"Huh?" Eithne asked dumbly, taking the knife by instinct of gesture.

"The knife," Belle prompted. "He stuck Taro with it, and Gunnar had a hard time healing him. Lucky the bugger is a human or he'd be up shit creek," she muttered. "Anyways, go forth and research," she said, waving her hands at Eithne, who was still not moving.

"I don't have to research it," the Fae replied, a little irritated at Isabelle's tone, but understanding her impatience. "It's Fae. It's Seelie Fae." She watched the Changling leave the room - she didn't know whether he was light or dark. Link was dark, but you'd have never known in speaking to him; it was only where his allegiance lay (and some morals - or lack of).

"What?" Isabelle said, turning to follow her gaze. "His brother?"

"Whose brother?" Eithne asked. "You know what? Catch me up later. I came in on this way too late. This is a Fae knife, it's enchanted. It's worse than Macht magic, because - well, not only are we older, we're more powerful. No offense, we're all from a dimensional layer right on top of yours and you're just from here, so.. you know what, Belle, I'll tell you another time. When you're not bleeding," she added, watching the Arun become vexed at the total lack of tangible information and sudden history lesson.

Eithne held the knife up. "See these?" she asked, pointing to some Tengwar-like marking. "Seelie lettering."

"Looks like Lord of the Rings," the Arun remarked.

"Yeah, where do you think he got it?" Eithne snapped. "Pay attention. These markings," she said, gesturing again, "are essentially like a catch-all spell. It protects the wielder from anything not Seelie Fae. So, basically, if he'd stabbed Taro, you, or even Firuza with this, it would have been the same. Well, not the same, I mean, you and Firuza would have probably just died..." she trailed off. "My point is, this is like Firestone for Fae. It hurts. It stings. It poisons. Except it does it to anyone. Fae don't particularly like things not them, so, we tend to design weapons that get that point across."

Belle released the knife as Eithne tried to give it to her. "Nuh-uh," the witch said, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. "Fuck that. You can carry it. I don't need to prick myself with your fairy Excalibur and drop dead on the spot."

"It isn't exactly like that, but if it makes you feel better, I'll carry it," Eithne said dryly. "Also, eventually, it'll have to go back to whoever you got this from. Fae rules and all that. We're really specific about gifts."

Considering how badly Chad's night had already gone, what was being dragged into a Diamond emergency?  He'd just dropped his date off, a girl that he already knew he wasn't calling back, because she wouldn't answer, and he couldn't entirely blame her.  Either his gorgeous and extremely jealous ex-girlfriend was stalking him, or fate was conspiring against him in such horrible ways that dating was starting to look useless, but after one of Alexis' idiot friends yanked her shoe from her hand and pegged Christina in the back of the head with it (that fucking hunter could use anything as an effective weapon, it seemed), he knew this one was finished.  He'd called the man a moron, escorted Christina to his car where he wasn't allowed to give her appropriate attention for the blow, and that was that.  Another date blown. 

He dropped her off at home with his apologies, she'd told him that he should tell girls he had a psycho-ex in the future, and he'd walked up to his apartment to find two vampires set up by his door.  That it was two he recognized made the situation less uncomfortable, but they were recognized for a reason that meant his night was about to get even more interesting, and vampires and Tristes didn't traditionally get along, so there was a bit of caution there.

"Irene, you look lovely.  Benjamin," he greeted, tending to manners in complimenting the lady first, then addressing her husband, and he inclined his head at the man; he knew that etiquette would get him further with these two, and so he was always polite.  Besides being a Triste and coyotl, which was impressive and how he could be about 150 years old and still have the power he did, he'd always been a charming bastard.  He'd also always been dangerous, but Alexis and her friends didn't typically think of that when they were trashed, and frankly, he didn't give that impression often.  You just had to know, or it was something you'd forget.  "Come on in."

The firestone laced around his apartment made vampires a little more inclined to politeness themselves, even if these two were historically considerate of such things.  He'd still known Irene to prefer mirrors in peoples' homes with apologies for intruding rather than finding another and then walking to their place.  He had it set so she (and anyone else) couldn't just magic themselves in.  He didn't like surprises.  "I take it you're here on business?"

And so came the most basic of explanations, mostly from Benjamin and with his wife nudging and then correcting him when he said something a bit harsh about a few of the people involved, and naturally, Chad agreed to go help and he already had some kind of idea as to why Noelani wanted him.  He went and changed into jeans and a button-up that looked alright, but he wouldn't mind getting blood all over in case the damaged goods decided to get stabby again, and off they went.  Irene used her talent with mirrors to get them to Colorado quickly, and then guided him through the halls to the room they'd maneuvered his 'patient' to, but he'd barely walked in the door before Noelani took him by the arm and yanked him right back out, explaining quietly the whole way.

She didn't have to explain how bad it was that this guy had pushed Isabelle out, not with how intimately he understood Belle's mind, but he nodded nonetheless.  Either this human wasn't what he seemed, or something else had happened.  He'd be careful, though her concern was touching regarding him not needing a front-row.  "Thanks, I'll be careful about getting too deep, but after Belle, I'm sure I can handle it.  We'll start simple and see what his brother can do."

It was a good plan, as far as he was concerned.  He worked in the mental arena often, and sometimes, the simplest ways were the best, but he didn't often have a familial connection like they were suggesting this one had to work with.  That would either make it easy as pie, or muck the whole thing up.  Either way, he went back in, hesitating only long enough to say his hellos to Belle when she walked away from Eithne.  It was a quick affair, a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, a required glance at her nose and insistence that she'd have Gunnar deal with it after he was finished with their 'guest', and he sighed, then went on in. 

"Hey, Gunnar.  Desmond?  My name's Chad, nice to meet you.  This is your brother?"  The fae obviously didn't trust anyone, which made sense considering he was fae and probably in a violent line of work (based on the fact that he looked like crap after the blow with the iron poker and was still up and moving around as though he was used to getting his ass kicked, and the way he regarded a new face), but Chad was good at this.  He had a fantastic bedside manner.  "I want you to know that I'm only here to make your conversation with him go more smoothly.  All I plan to do is keep him here in the present, and unless something happens, the rest is up to you.  Make sense?"

"I suppose.  You a magical shrink or something?"

"Something.  How are we coming along?" he asked Gunnar, who had apparently been taking his time in working through injuries on the human, and if Chad knew the Smoke, he was probably healing up shit that hadn't even happened this evening.  It was up to Chad and Desmond to deal with this man's mental state, but Gunnar would give him to them in optimum physical condition.  It was what he did. 

"Be ready, I'm keeping him chill, but he's just about perfect and once I let go, he's all yours," Gunnar warned them with a tightness to his voice that suggested to Chad that the human didn't entirely want to be mellow right then.  The Smoke was probably putting out more effort on calming than healing right then, which was where Chad came in.  He could work the auras more fluidly and with less trouble. 

"What's his name?"

"Antoine."

"Alright, Antoine, Gunnar's going to back up some, and we're going to have a little talk," he spoke directly to the human, reaching out with his power to pluck at the auras as he felt the Smoke's magic withdrawing.  Dampening some of the nastier auras and impulses was the most work, and he didn't want to screw around with the nicer feelings too early, or the whole experience would feel less honest.  He wasn't here to manufacture progress, just push it along at its own natural pace.  Enhance it.  Show time.

It was really only a matter of time, after an explosion like that, before Eithne appeared, so he hadn't been surprised when she hit the scene and lingered back some while they moved the human intruder, and Murphy caught her eye and let the look linger before doing his job in getting everything settled before spoke to her.  He had a feeling Noelani wouldn't be too far once this situation calmed down, but she was getting the Triste in, and that would take her attention for a little longer.  It gave him time to catch his sister, and he might have shortened her conversation with Isabelle when he stepped up and took the time to pay attention to the witch's condition.  "Sweet, go get a rag for your nose, Gunnar'll be done soon."

Having a moment alone with his sister, even if Isabelle didn't seem to be much of a fan of him based on the look she gave him before leaving, he sighed and shook his head, then regarded Eithne.  "The changeling hit me like a cannonball from the left when I was going to put a bullet in our new guest's head.  Fucker showed up attached to Taro by that knife you got there, and as far as I can tell, he's just human and had a shit time in Midnight Europe.  He nearly killed Taro, Aaron had trouble with him, and then he out-thralled Isabelle until I snapped her out of it.  Turns out, he's Stark's brother."

The research end of things, besides being his sister and deserving an explanation as to why their identities were practically on display, needed information.  "Not really sure why Stark came at me like he did when a simple, 'hold your fire' would've done, but my guess is distraction.  Didn't think he packed that kind of punch magically," he offered, and that was about as much admission as even she was getting.  As old and powerful as they were, he didn't like admitting to fault, even if it was just reacting to a magical smart-nuke directed right at him.  "If I was human, he'd've leveled me."

 Eithne nodded to Isabelle as she fucked off, though she didn't miss the stare that she'd given Murphy upon her departure. "I think you'll have more people mad at you than at me," she told him, which definitely accounted for her calm nature. She held the knife out to him. "I bet any amount of money Stark gave this to his 'brother'. I bet he doesn't know his brother is a Fae," she remarked. "Lots of secrets between our kind suddenly coming about into the open, I don't know if that's one I'd let get to the surface right now - not if he's been in Midnight," she advised.

"I'll take what you gave me and do my own research, but you have to do some damage control. I bet Aaron will be mad as all fuck because he's been thinking you just have a liver made of, uh, iron, at this point. I'll go back and tell Nicolette now and then answer the thousand questions she'll no doubt have before we start digging on this guy and what his story is." She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Ah well, it was good while it lasted. Now at least Emma can't out us," she said snidely. "But Murph, do you really think you would yell hold your fire to someone if they had a gun to me?" she asked him critically.

"You're not kidding," he told her when she said he'd have more people mad at him than she would, and sh wasn't wrong about Aaron, either.  He was going to have to do some serious damage control and it was probably going to take time, but he'd manage it.  "Wait until Taro's up and moving and hears.  Pretty sure he missed the whole thing."

Yeah, it was going to suck, but it would also give him a damn good reason to remove the iron in the castle that he'd secretly been making disappear whenever he could get away with it, since that was a serious threat, as Benjamin so kindly reminded him.  It wasn't a lesson he'd be forgetting, about the iron or Benjamin, who had known exactly what to grab, how careful he had to be to hit one and not the other, and had been incredibly fast and accurate.  Not that the man's skills had been under question, not as a member of Diamond, but he'd just gone up a notch on the danger scale in Murphy's brain.  People needed to stop doing that.

"If I have any control over it, the new guy won't know his brother's a fae, no, but you're probably right about where he got the knife.  That means he gets it back if he survives all this shit, which we need information to decide.  Tell Nicolette I'm limiting her to twenty questions, so you two can get to work.  Kid's name is Antoine, Stark mentioned a wife and kids, all dead, and he was a level 6 in Onyx Europe before he lost his shit.  While you're at it, get Stark's real name and figure out who the fuck we're dealing with.  I'm sick of this shit."

He looked visibly irritated at having himself and his sister outed, but he glanced her way at the mention of Emma and smirked somewhat, then sighed.  "You and I both know she was just waiting for a good time to do it, and no, I wouldn't, but I don't let you fall into situations where you're about to be killed by a group that can outpower us, do I?  For a collection of badasses, we're all pretty rational.  Except Emma and Irina, but no surprise there.  Anyway, it's done, gotta deal with it.  Just be aware that Rutherford has a mean swing with a fireplace poker."

There was the warning, and he squeezed her shoulder before starting off towards some of the others, namely Aaron, Isabelle and Noelani.  He left the knife with her in case it gave any further indication as to who Desmond and Antoine were, and knowing her, he was confident they'd have plenty of information in no time. 

 Antoine was pretty sure that none of them were real, and he said as much as soon as he could work his jaw again - Aaron had gotten a good stomp off on him and now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was - well, Gunnar had his work cut out for him, human or not. The swelling in his head alone should have been fatal, and as soon as the pressure hit a certain point, Gunnar glibly informed him he would have just dropped dead, and was that what he had wanted? Antoine tried to fight back, but the Smoke only told him to stop being a bitch - it was probably the meanest anyone had ever seen Gunnar be, but he had appropriately guessed that Antoine responded more to the idea of weakness than kindness. The threat of being called a bitch stilled him enough that, even though his energy was returning, he was cooperating.

Of course, Antoine figured that if he was hallucinating, then wouldn't the things in his mind know what he would and wouldn't do?

The newcomer was talking now, and he focused his bloodshot blue eyes on the man who referred to him by name. He told him Gunnar was going to back up, which the "Smoke" did, and then the other man stepped in, informing him they were going to have a chat. This sparked laughter from Antoine. Honest to god laughter, until he coughed and Gunnar had to reach back in and press a finger down on his ribs in a clinical, invasive manner.

"Nope, still holding," he said. Gunnar had, for a moment, thought that Antoine's fervent laughter had just popped the metaphysical mending he'd done. Had he seen it happen before? Not with humans, but occasionally if he was too spent on energy, it could happen that the healing didn't hold. Would he expect things to go wrong in general? Not at all, but in this case, he was more than a little ready if they did. He nodded to Chad to continue.

"Of course you want to have a talk," Antoine wheezed, struggling with restraints to rub his side. "Like I said before, though, Justinian," he snarled, his pleasant demeanor suddenly darkening, "you can ask me six ways from Sunday, make me believe you're my dead wife, whatever else you want to do, I'm not going to tell you anything." He turned his head away and, with a very passe sniff, he twitched his head and set his jaw.

"If you want to know, you'll have to just go in and rip it out yourself."

Oh, Antoine was fairly certain that Justinian was mocking up the man in his dream, trying to get him to tell them information that they were having difficulty yanking out of his head. Rajz had done a number on him - while Justinian had been a little impressed by Iloquil's fledgling, he was also very aware that sparing the rod didn't always spoil the child, and sometimes you could break someone's mind up so much that information you needed to retrieve was simply fragmented too many times to make sense to anyone but the bearer. Justin, therefore, used hallucinations to make Antoine tell them valuable information - some of which they acted on, some of which they sat on (they immediately took access of Onyx UK's database, but they hadn't attacked anyone yet).

It had taken Antoine a long time to come to terms with the hallucinations being just that, and unfortunately there were still times when he had trouble distinguishing reality. Justin had gotten him a little too crazy, it seemed.