Amy + Jeffrey Moonbrook Blues

Moonbrook was a filthy place. It had been in ruins years before Deathwing came, but now it seemed worse. At least before the Shattering, it had been abandoned. Now it was flooded with the homeless and the depraved. The Depraved. That was undoubtedly where Jeffrey fell (though homeless was a good marker for him too). His small corner in the back of the town was unmistakable. The grass was dead and the ground stained by poured out experiments. He was just dumping his failures out around the building. The ground would be dead for who knew how much longer- but at least it seemed barren to begin with. One tree was by the door, and from it was hanging a Defias. Or, at least he had a defias mask at his chin. His arms were bound behind him, as were his ankles below. There were burns all over him, and scorch marks elsewhere on the ground. A warning to the Defias that refused to let him work in peace. As for the building itself, it was ramshackle and falling apart. There were gaping holes in the roof, but it looked like he'd strung up tapestries on the ceiling from inside, protecting his experiments from the rain.


Amavia settled her rocket down and glared at a transient who admired it with gleaming eyes. “If you so much as touch this I will turn you into a sheep. Lots of hungry people around here and sheep -are- so yummy.” Amber eyes were hard as she spoke though her hand flung a silver piece his way. It wasn’t much but she couldn’t stand to see these people suffer. The Defias claimed to be helping them. If this was helping she didn’t want to see hurt. A grubby hand snatched the coin out of the air and she smirked. “I’ll give you three more if you watch my rocket while I’m insider.” Even were he to try and activate it the key was in her pocket and it would malfunction if he attempted to ride it. Clever machine. Easy coin seemed more on his mind and he nodded as the girl parked it close to the hanging tree. Jeffrey. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she approached the door. From a manor to a shack, he couldn’t be doing well. Knuckles rapped firmly on the door and she whispered his name. The staff rested in the crook of her elbow and a large twine bound parcel sat at her feet. A few portals opened before she left the city had gained enough coin to purchase a few things. She hoped it was enough.


The door was opened quickly and a blade was the first thing to greet her. There were no outcries of how he didn't have time for their bullshit, or how he'd brook no more threats from the Defias scum. The blade usually said all that for him. When he saw it was his beloved, he let his hood fall back and lowered the blade through the crack. The door was opened wider. "Love. What are you doing here?"

Amavia gave a sly little smirk and rested her hand on the frame. "I've a problem, doctor. My favorite drug is so hard to get and I'm going through withdrawls. Maybe you could let me in and we could discuss payment and whether or not you can fulfill my needs?" One thin brow quirked and she winked at him. It was playful and flirty and she couldn't help it. Raoul and George were to blame in her mind; she couldn't help but be a little silly thanks to their influence.


"I'm not giving you any drugs, Amy." He responded to her flirtations with a flat lack of humor. He moved away from the door to let her in though. "How did you find me? I mean- I don't mind. I'm glad to see you, but..." He furrowed his brow and began to pack something away that was spread out on the table.

"Even if my drug of choice is -you-?" She smiled still and winked at him as she stepped inside the ramshackle home. The staff was held at her side and the parcel lifted lightly by the twine as she crossed the threshold. No common decency. But he was : -busy- and she interrupted him. "How is my husband? I missed you."

"He's alright." He was definitely -not- alright. The bone pile in the fireplace was larger now, and the telltale tank was sitting in the corner with a curtain over it. The water sloshed inside, the level lower than when it had been nearly full back in Dalaran. He picked something off the table and ate it, but it likely wasn't real food. "And my wife, how is she? I've missed her."

“Better now. I longed for you. Can I hug you, please?” Eager hands set his presents aside and she rested one on his hip. “I dreamed of your arms around me though I doubt they’d hold up to reality.” Her hand gave a squeeze to him and she smirked again. Still flirting and trying to be charming. The conditions in here worried her as did the lack of friendly squeaks from his familiar.

He looked up at her, blinking in surprise. "Yeah, of course. I wouldn't refuse you." He tried to smile but it looked exceptionally awkward.

Amavia stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around him, giving a sweet hug while her lips brushed at his. "I love you, baby. No matter what. Always. Never forget."

He returned the kiss in either a hurried or half-hearted way. "I love you too, Amy."

If she was discouraged that he wasn't playing back she didn't show it. "I brought you a few things. Gift first or practical things?"

"Practical. If it will help my work then you're not a minute too soon." He sounded excited at the prospect, giving her a quick hug before releasing her.


"More you than your work. But without you there can be none of it." She pushed the large brown paper bound parcel towards him, the twine scrapping lightly against it. Inside were sensible things. Nonperishable foods, soap and hygiene products, a few spare robes of a plain black color, things to cook meals with, a lighter to make a fire, bandages and a few healing tonics. Beneath all that rested a red scarf and a box containing a kit with vials and common practical reagents. Nothing illegal. Nothing that screamed of the fel or necromancy. Unless the purple blanket and pillow she'd included could be considered evil.

He shuffled through the items, but it was the scarf that gave him pause. It sparked something in him and he wasn't sure how to react. He lifted it out of the box and looked at it quietly. Behind her, the black and white photos of Editha caught his eye.

She was smiling but her eyes were elsewhere, taking in his new home and looking for his pet. Ratford was dear to her and she worried for the little creature. Wished she could keep an eye on him and his master. "Now, your gift."

"Right. Uh, let me just put this..." He held the scarf a bit tighter. "Right." Whatever he'd been planning to do was quickly forgotten and he looked at her expectantly.

Amavia smiled and reached behind her for the staff she'd leaned against the wall. The ruby had been the most difficult part to mend and required the most careful enchanting and sorcery she'd employed to date. Faint lines could be seen in the gem but the shaft of the staff itself looked pristine. Painstaking work had been done to mend the cracked splinters and she'd had to recarve a little of the words that had to be sanded down when it was all rejoined. Amavia had taken great pains to make it as perfect and true to the original as she could. While adding her own clever charm. "You were missing this."

His lips made a thin line and he stared at her hard.

His grim expression startled her and she almost dropped it. "I ah, I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just knew it was important to you and I tried very hard to make it exact. I'm sure some bits of it are missing but with a great deal of effort and determination it's almost as right as it was! I added a little something though and I hope you don't mind it's just you didn't like the cupcake last time but I worry about you! So, ah, if you just think of a flavor of muffin you desire it should summon
one. With the right word." She gave a nervous giggle. All the charm she'd had was gone now.

He stayed quiet, setting the scarf down on the table. The vials rattled on their rack and a thorny tumbleweed brushed up against the outside walls to make a scratching sound.

She gulped and her hand trembled around the staff. "I'll...I'll just take it way. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, Jeffrey."

"May I hold it?" He asked, sounding grim as she'd ever heard him. His eyes were cast down slightly, looking more at the staff than at her. As if it were sand, the scarf slipped from his fingers and vaguely coiled on the table's surface.

Silently she passed it to him and took a step to gather the red cloth in hand. If he allowed and didn't shy away she'd tie it around his neck and kiss his cheek.

He allowed her to do so, but the kiss wasn't returned. "My mother gave this to me." The light of the experiments shined on the engraved words. "I was supposed to be like you, Amy. That's what she wanted more than anything."

Amavia bit the tip of her gloves and pulled them off quickly, cupping his cheek with her bare hand. "I think that no matter what your mother would have just wanted you to be a good man. A better man than Line. Mothers love their children even when they aren't what they dream of. It's what mothers are supposed to do." Lips brushed against his other cheek and she smiled. "You were a good son to her. She couldn't have wanted for more."

"I don't think you know what you're talking about." He replied coolly, jerking his head away from her and moving around the table. "Thank you for this, Amy. It means a lot to me." He resisted the urge to spew about how HER mother had always been proud of her, and why shouldn't she have been? Amavia was a brilliant mage and a noble spirit on top of that. The subject needed to be changed though, and that was certain. "You still didn't tell me how you found my new lab."

His harsh dismissal of her sweet notions stung and she stepped away to lean against the wall where the staff had rested. "Very well." Stiff shoulders shrugged beneath her coat and she stared at the tapestries against the patchwork roof. "I'm your -wife.- It's my job to know where you are and what you're up to when we are forced to part."

-Then you know I'm planning to kill your mother?- He thought, and it almost left his lips too. The fact that his mouth -actually- opened and the sound -actually- began to play on his tongue forced him into a sharp, breathless, and hysterical laugh.

Amavia's lips quirked into a slight smile and she did her best to mask her concern. That wasn't that funny of a joke. Perhaps he was -that- lonely that any humor set him off. "Oh baby. My mama told me where you were at. Not quite sure what -she- was doing here though."

He shut his eyes and laughed a bit more, turning away from her. The staff was held in an obvious death grip.

She wet her lips and the smile faded as soon as his back was to her. "Baby why don't you sit down? I'll make you something to eat. You and Ratford. Where is that cute little monster?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in days." Without warning, he twirled the staff in his hands. The metal bottom was promptly smashed against an alchemy table, shattering several fragile beakers. He drew the rod back, sweeping the spilled and ruined experiments off to the floor. Breathing just a bit harder from the exertion, he brought the staff back to his chest. "What if I said I've already eaten?" From the corner, the subject finally grew bored with simply listening. She banged on the glass of the tank. "I've already eaten! Eaten! Eaten! What if I've already eaten!"

Amavia's eyes narrowed, a flash of pity in them. "Then I will just ask you to sit a few minutes while I test out a new spell. You need to keep better eye on the rat, he's -your- familiar. If you aren't going to care for him I'm taking him home with me." It was delivered in a flat no nonsense tone and she gently rooted in her satchel for her divination tome.

He laughed and covered his face with another hysterical chuckle. "I didn't want him. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

"Then stop it! Stop playing at this mad, dark science! Stop playing with the fel! You were a -damn- fine detective. You could have had a promising career with the Law! We could have been partners! Instead I'm saddled with someone George is forcing on me! I don't want to work with Raoul! I want to be your partner!" It came out in a torrent and she tore at her hair a moment before she snatched her tome from her bag. "I AM taking him with me. If you want to see Ratford you can let me know."

He slumped into a sitting position on one of the lower alchemy tables. Runoff from the ruined experiments earlier were soaking into his shoes, but he didn't seem to mind. "Help me stop then." He muttered.

If Fate had ever been more kind to her Amavia could not recall the instance in her mind. Unlimited wealth, prestige, recognition from the Order for her brilliance would turn to ash in her hands right now were they to be handed to her in comparison to those four words he’d just grumbled at her. Amavia closed the gap between them and crouched, hands rested on his knees as she tried to meet his eyes. “I -will- help you. I will -never- give up on you. This I swear.” She lifted a hand from his knee and went to cup his cheek. “I think the first step is removing yourself from temptation. I know it will be hard but if you don’t have the things to do...to do -this-,” Her other hand waved over at the tank, “than you won’t. We can put the tomes away or burn them or sell them and the project can be released. We can go back to what we were.” Hope colored her words and her heart, so heavy upon entering this place, felt like it could soar now.

He jerked his head away from her touch again, still gripping the staff tight enough for his knuckles to flush white. "You want me to just throw away my work?" It sounded disbelieving, angry, or both.
She squeezed his knee slightly, that hope deflating partly. "You said to help you. To cease doing it I think the logical first step is to remove what tempts you to continue."

"I've given up so much, would STILL give up SO MUCH for this. Is my cause not noble, Amavia?" He leaned forward then, staring her directly in the eyes. "Doesn't that mean anything? Isn't it worth the small sacrifice to do what I'm doing?" He had true intentions in his eyes, though they were hardly altruistic.

She sighed but didn't drop her gaze from his. That blue-green that met her amber was not the color it -should- be. It was tainted and muddied in comparison to the regal trueblue that once stared back. "You said you wanted help. If you want to give this up, want to be the man you were, the man without any fel taint, than that is my suggestion. I don't know what else to tell you in regards to stopping. You can't just pick and choose with this. All magic is addictive. All magic corrupts."

"I'm lucky I can use magic at -all-, Amavia!" He almost growled it, obviously on edge because someone who could take it for granted so much was standing right in front of him. A sore, obvious reminder. "What would I even do then? How would I survive? I'm barely getting by as it is."

"You have a -brilliant- mind. We were partners and detectives -together-, why couldn't we be so again? You could learn a tradeskill, you could return to your father! I'm sure he'd find you something...something not like this." It was hard not to say evil or nefarious but with that -thing- in the tank so close by it almost slipped.

"You don't need -me- for a partner!" He tried to push on to his feet, using the staff to keep her at bay if she tried to push him back down. "You have your wonderful career and your plentiful magic! What do I have? I left my father to be with you! Would you rather he coerced me into a loveless marriage? Would you rather I sit around just reading stories about your wonderful adventures in the paper?" The anger bubbled up inside of him so much that he thought he heard a howling in his own head.

His sudden movements made her topple and fall from crouching to land on her rear, hands supporting her and arms stretched behind her. "No. I would rather have you happy. I would work my fingers to the bone to keep you fed and happy and -healthy- than see you like this. This hasn't been good for you and already I can see it taking its toll. And I do need you. I've always needed you and I always will."

"So you would rather I just be a PET." He growled, not even offering to help her up as he moved towards the tank. "I'm sick of living in your shadow, Amavia. I'm sick of living in shadows period!" He used the staff to tear down a black curtain, but the windows were so filthy that it hardly seemed to make a difference. It was poetic enough that he laughed again helplessly.

She helped herself up and dusted off the filth from her coat. Anger boiled inside her and she bit her lip to hold back harsh words a moment. Didn't he listen to a -word- she said? "No! You are not a -pet-! You are my -partner-, my other half. You've never been in my shadow and if you've thought so you're just being dramatic!" One foot stomped the ground and she flipped open her divination tome. "You are brilliant and clever and cunning. Without you we wouldn't have broke the cases we did. My magic only counts for so much, baby, and it never was enough. I -need- you."

11:54 [Journal]: rode up a bit, then the staff shook violently too. It almost seemed like he was going to lose his temper and whirl around to strike her with it. "It doesn't matter. Even once I give this up, I'll have nothing. I'll -be- nothing."
11:54 [Journal]: "Yeah, we'll see how much you need me when you're standing on some stupid stage somewhere being decorated as a bloody hero. Right. I'll be in the alley somewhere cheering you on, encouraging you to go say hello to your mother or-" His shoulders shook and

11:56 [Amavia]: "You will not! Together we will work at finding you something you excel at! You're so smart and dedicated. You can't give up before you even try!" She pursed her lips and sighed heavily, not looking at him as she tried to find the spell she needed. "I
11:56 [Amavia]: will never be a hero. There's too much Westfall dirt clinging to me. I will never be this decorated, appreciated mind you dream of."

"Then get out! Get out of here before you get even more of it on you or whatever it is you fear!" He sounded personally insulted. Line was on his mind today. "Just get out and let me take care of this on my own." The flashing edge of the staff was pointed towards the door and he didn't look at her. "The goddamn rat stays with me. I want you out now so I can get rid of all these things that are so beneath you."

"You aren't beneath me! I don't give a fuck that I'll never be an Archmage! The only dream I have is to have a future with -you!- Don't you want me too?" Numb fingers closed the book and she felt tears well in her eyes. How could someone like George be so kind to her - hell, even Raoul was - while the one she loved, the one she married, acted like this? It didn't make sense. "Please take care of him? And of yourself? I love you and that stupid rat so. Please? If you won't let me take care of you both?" Her words quivered and she put the book away, arms wrapping around her waist in a hug to herself. You are the only comfort you need. You are the only thing you need. These thoughts whispered in the back of her mind so quiet she could barely hear them.

"I'll take care of things once you /get/ /out/." He snarled the words in a grave warning, finally turning to look at her over his shoulder. There was a curled maw and flashing teeth rather than the lips that had once kissed her sweetly. The orange of his eyes smoldered like embers as he glared at her. They had no iris, no pupil, no empathy.

The tears fell now and she stared at him a moment before she weakly raised a hand and waved. "Take care of yourself. Write me when you want to see me..." She turned on heel and wiped the back of her hand hard across her eyes. This was stupid. -He- was stupid. Her own temper pressed her and she gripped the doorknob hard, sparkles of arcane energy flickering off it. The door slammed hard behind her and she let out an angry cry as it did. The transient that she'd paid to watch her rocket blinked and side stepped away. With another annoyed sound she threw the coins at him and got on her rocket, wanting to go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.

A moment after she slammed the door shut, something went crashing through the window. It almost hit the poor transient! Just barely missing him, the burned tome skidded along the dirt until it finally came to a stop. Charred beyond reading, wisps of smoke still rose from it. There were letters still visible on the spine at least, but before anyone could so much as sound out the T in their heads, more things followed through the window. Beakers smashed as they hit the ground, then an entire flimsy wire rack followed it. Another window was smashed out, thing being hurled from someone very, very angry inside. Most chilling of all as she started up her rocket was the squeal of a rat, or some other small creature, and the creature mimicking it -without- the echo of the tank.

The squeal gave her pause and she turned the key in the ignition, the engine she'd gunned suddenly falling silent. With a delicate gesture she put the satchel in the storage compartment and locked it before dropping the key in her pocket. Eyes narrowed she turned on heel and tried to slam the door open once more. He could hurt her and disregard her feelings but that rat had done -nothing- to merit this treatment.


The door did open, but the abuse of having been slammed so often in what many door-enthusiasts would lament as its final years, the handle tore right out in her grip. Blinding, bright light rolled into the room and dazed rat, creature, and worgen all at once. In their own fashions, they hissed and recoiled away from it. Ratford was unharmed (comparatively) and had squealed of fright at the creature who was falling out of her broken tank. Slumping really. Without the water to hold them up, the dead snakes gave the illusion of drenched hair and clung to the sides of her rotted cheeks. She mimicked the squeal again, mindlessly, and reached for the hem of Jeffrey's robes with one of her many hands. She was disgusting in the murky water of the tank before, but terrifying without.



The flames of her temper went cold at the sight but that isn’t to say they petered out. Amavia wasn’t one for indulging in sudden bursts of passion when it came to anger but today she felt the desire to cave to the thoughts -screaming- in her head. Kill it kill it KILL IT. That THING which had caused them such issues. Her mind was so strangely clear and confident, her KTI badge flashing in the glittering sunlight she’d brought with her, that the blast of arcane energy that launched from her palm and towards the creature came instantly. “Do. No. Touch. Him.”


A green shield of fel flames enveloped the creature, who seemed just as confused as Ratford as to the what or why of it. She held up her hands and gingerly touched the sphere, but recoiled with a hiss of her own when the arcane blast was absorbed by it. 'Sightless', grey eyes stared at her behind the veil of flickering light, curious and lacking the intuition to even be offended by what she had tried to do.


"You said you were getting rid of it. Allow me the pleasure in helping." Amavia's eyes narrowed as she focused on the shield, trying to dispel it by tugging on the leylines and stealing it for herself. The taint of the shadow shielding her was not desired but she didn’t want to stop. More. She wanted this thing to suffer more and -die- it’s final death at her hands.

He stepped in front of the undead subject, who responded by digging her delicate fingers into his robes and lifting them up to her face. She noticed it dried her dead skin to do so, and began 'experimenting' by drying off more of herself. The monstrously large serpentine half of her body slumped out of the tank and coiled around his feet, which had by now shifted to a more ready stance. "I said I was getting rid of my work, this science. I didn't say I was getting rid of my results." The staff was in hand, but more so than that the snarling worgen stood ready to protect the clueless thing behind him. "Allow me the pleasure," she mumbled, pressing her entire face into his robes, inadvertently looking like someone at worship.

“Then I will do it for you.” A familiar incantation fell from her tongue and she flicked her hand in a graceful gesture at the worgen. Were her spell to land the snarling wolfman would be nothing more than a rabbit amidst the chaos. Part of her mind felt guilty and she knew no apologies later would make it better but this HAD to cease. Something had to give. More more more! Her mind screamed and the flicker of the fel flames from the shield she’d stolen reflected in her eyes, a golden green light shining at him as she coolly did her work.

"And you thought betraying -your father- was a mistake?" His rumbling voice began to rise into a shout, but as the final word of the rhetorical question fell, his voice suddenly sank with it. Black and vibrant magenta shadows began to swirl at his feet, burning hot enough that the undead creature even screamed and threw herself away from him. Though she had been watching him too intensely to notice the first time, they were the same soul burning flames as when he had healed her leg. Now, even the twisted screaming face of a soul that was not his own could be seen stretching with the smoke and shadows. "You have no idea..."


“This isn’t betrayal! You wanted help so let me give it!” It made her fearful to see him so, to watch the shadows lick at the hem of his robe. “Get rid of -that- and be the man I know you are, baby!” The green light faded, the flames of his shield she’d so rudely taken died out and reflexively she threw up her own barrier around her body. She didn’t trust him. He’d hurt her so much before and in such deeper ways what was to stop him now that he felt she’d crossed him? Shaky breaths left her. A Kirin Tor mage was always calm, self-possessed, and clear headed. She repeated it again and again in her mind, a mantra that calmed her and made her posture straighter and confidence flood her again.

"The man you know I am? You don't know me at all! You refuse to see past your preconceptions of me, but whatever helps you sleep at night I guess! This is who I am, who I've always been. What was I thinking marrying you? I should have listened to myself in Darnassus. I will NOT be your pet. I will not STAY in your shadow and spend every night wishing I could walk the streets of that stupid city. I refuse! Take your hypocrisy and run back to your mother, Amavia, because your betrayal has won you no sanctuary with me." Green cracks in the wooden floor spilled out from where he stood, and reached back and snatched the creature's upper left arm. Preparing to teleport away, if her studies had taught her anything about his kind.

“I need no one but myself! I won’t run back to her but your allegiances are clear to me now! Selfish -boy-! I have meant -nothing- to you. Nothing but a distraction from your own crimes! You have -used- my body and my heart, Jeffrey. I was just blinded with love and refused to see it.” The young woman stared hard at him and moved to snatch up the rat. Though her temper was raging her heart demanded that she try and save this creature from his fury. And her own. “You love your creation more than you love me. More than you ever will.” That angry look faded and she laughed weakly, the sounds half-choked sobs. “Run away then. Spare -her.- I realize now -she- is all that matters to you. I lost this battle before I knew it started.”


"You haven't yet, but you will. You will lose this attempt to sabotage me. I promise you that." He growled coolly just before a green flash filled the room. He left her alone there in that room, Editha's pictures floating to the floor as air rushed in to fill the space where he and the undead creature had once been. The scraps of burned clothing slipped down as well, but the blackened plank managed to remain on the mantle even if it was skewed. Every experiment in the room had been destroyed. Every single one. All the books were burned, or in some cases still burning. But wait- no, not alone. Ratford squealed sadly in her grasp.

The girl kissed the rat’s head and refused to let her tears fall. There were people watching even if she couldn’t see them. The transients, the homeless, the depraved beings that resided in Moonbrook. -The Defias.- Had it gotten back to them? What she’d done? Hands trembled and she quickly gathered the photos with one, still supporting the mutant rat with the other - though it strained to do so under his bulk. Pictures of Editha were tucked away - why did she bother? Would she ever have a chance to return them? - and she left the rundown shack with her head held high and the best imitation she could give of Svafa’s cool, detached business expression. Let those who watched think it didn’t matter to her. That she was beyond the tears that she so desperately wanted to shed. A Kirin Tor mage was always calm, self-possessed, and clear headed. The mantra filled her head as she sat on the rocket and secured the rat to herself and the bike with the safety belt. “Hang on. You get to be the first boy I take home to meet my mama.”


The rat didn't even squirm. He just hung their limply in his arms as if he'd given up on something.

Amy + Raoul Library Meeting

On the study table tucked between shelves of books a pile of tomes had steadily been growing. When the young Apprentice Kirin Tor Investigator had arrived she’d looked over the shelves, her tan colored coat and purple scarf trailed behind her as she wandered them till she located the book she desired. Another was quickly spotted and then yet another. This process was repeated several times and she had to dash back to the table twice to rest her findings there. Her arcane familiar ghosted along behind her and held a thick binder of papers that were laid out on the table when she finally pulled up the wooden chair to it. She stared hard at them now, one elbow on the table and her hand folded into a fist and tucked under her chin. Occasionally the quill in her other hand penned a few quick notes in her personal tome as something on the forms caught her eye. In the soft reading lights of the library her badge wasn’t as bright and the eye didn’t flash with as much sparkle against the khaki color of her long coat. Golden threads in her scarf smoldered under the light and her familiar stared in a bored fashion. These small details escaped her notice entirely; all of Amavia’s attention rested on the papers in front of her and were Khadgar himself to appear at her elbow she wouldn’t notice till spoken to.

He saw her as he was passing through the shelves, bright blue eyes wandering over her in faint recognition. He'd only met her once, so she was still difficult to spot in a crowd. The badge and the familiar were memorable though, and he smiled in her direction. Turning mid-pace, he nonchalantly moved down the aisle with a confident swagger as if he'd intended to go that way all along. A clean hand gently tapped her shoulder as he leaned in. "Hawkins," he greeted her, if it could be called that. It sounded more like he was acknowledging she was there. Still smiling, he straightened back up. One hand was in his pocket, books and manila folders tucked under his arm, and the other gave her a salute as soon as she was looking his way. Even if she never looked up however, he took a seat on the opposite side of the table from her and set down his papers. His clothing wasn't much different than when she saw him last. Another vest, another shirt- sleeves were all the way down this time and the vest was a darker brown but it was all very familiar. On his hand, the <3 ring shimmered even without a bright light. It seemed to desire its own attention, not unlike a pair of enchanted ruby shades.

Were it not for the tap she may not have even heard the quiet greeting of her name. With a movement so slight it was almost unnoticeable, she jerked away from his finger. Just a tiny lean in the opposite direction as she looked up at him. His voice wasn’t yet familiar to her but at the sight of chestnut colored hair and friendly smile the annoyed expression faded from her features. “Hello Raoul.” Gloved fingers - did she ever let her hands see the light of day?- came up and returned the salute. Neat stacks of books were rearranged and a quick eye could see that she’d ordered them alphabetically by title in their piles that were almost even in height. Space was made for his own things and she flashed him another smile and adjusted her scarf after everything was put how she liked it. “I left George a note in regards to the blood samples. Have you heard from him?” Though it was straight to business she looked in a good enough mood and was dressed much more for this sort of work today. Her coat fell to the tops of her knees but remained unbuttoned despite being belted around her waist. A cream colored shirt peeked from between the opening and though it was modestly cut it still showed an expanse of her tan skin that had been otherwise covered before. Were it not for the scarf, a light violet with patterned golden Eyes, the scars on her neck and collarbone would be visible. Thankfully the remained hidden as did the one on her thigh under the charcoal colored pants and mid calf leather boots she wore. She hardly looked a mage today and a part of her was giddy to be back to pants. Light, she had missed pants.

"He said our request would be processed at the lab and the samples would be delivered to us by the end of the week. Or we could go pick them up in a few days ourselves." He shrugged and tossed a manila envelope her way. It slid a short way on the table before bumping into her books and likely nudging it ever so slightly out of place. The manila paper was thick and durable, with a "Official Documents" stamped in bold letters of glittering gold ink. The twine through the reinforced loops on the flap was tied neatly. "I brought the student records, as well. Have any luck getting yours?"

“We should go in a few days then. I would like to see the lab myself.” The folder was set atop her papers from the binder her familiar had carried in for her. Books were quickly righted and she nodded. “It took some work but I was able to convince, con, and coerce the records I wanted. All but the ones for the inn under control of the Sunreavers. Not a very pleasant bunch.” She had spoken briefly to one of the guards for their sanctuary and were it not for her badge she was quiet certain the snooty sin’dorei would have given her a toss away from the entrance to their quarter. “I worked through the Ledgermain records already and noted anything that stood out to me.” The binder was closed and she carefully guided it across the table so as not to disturb anything else.

“Don't worry, they have even less patience for people like me." His smile turned from friendly to reassuring as they traded records, and he opened the binder with mild curiosity showing. "So we'll make a date for the lab in a few days, and..." Raoul glanced over the page a few times, trying to find what she had made notes with. He searched for highlights, underlines, stars, the like. "Most of the victims were of Alliance races, if not individual allegiance that we know of, so I'm inclined to believe whispers: that the perp is the same. Contact and approaching the victims would just be easier that way, you know? However, they had to have been someone that could at least get into the Sunreaver Sanctuary with clearance, unless their security is -just that lax-, which could explain why they don't want to share their records." He glanced back up to meet her pretty amber eyes.

Her eyes hadn’t left his face as he browsed the records for her neat little stars next to names of guests that stood out to her. Notations had been made in the margins and for the most part she had marked anyone that had checked in our out a few times over the course of time she had records for or was a mage. Any off the wall strange things would have been marked - any visitors of curious races noted. “If their security is that lax I have an idea. But I’m not sure you’ll care much for it.” A sparkle of mischief made her eyes more golden than amber and she glanced around for any eavesdroppers nearby. Finding no one within whispering range she leaned slightly over the table and spoke with a smile. “You know of the devices that can be used to create illusions to disguise your person to appear as another race? I was working on one for...personal uses but I’d cheerfully loan it to you as I’d make the worst sin’dorei. I can’t even speak a lick of thalassian.”

"It's not that difficult to learn." Raoul leaned forward, his elbows against the binder. "What are you scheming, Hawkins?"

“Maybe you can teach me sometime?” It’s a hopeful little question and she smiled at him to sweeten it. “But I was thinking one of us could use the disguise and try and acquire the records from the inn. I don’t think I have the kinks worked out to keep the illusion up terribly long but if we requested them and told them we’d be back shortly - or our partner would be - we could have enough time.”

"Sounds questionable-" He looked away and then back again, smirking devilishly. "Actually it sounds straight out illegal, but I think it's worth a shot. We'll need George's blessings, of course, just in case things go terribly wrong." A pause tried to sink in between them, but he refused to let it fill with silence. "Those thalassian lessons are starting to sound particularly favorable if that's what we're going with. Maybe we could discuss some over coffee once we get a divination tome?" It was his own turn to look hopeful. He hated libraries. Their wealth of knowledge could not make up for constantly being told to be silent. Studious he may have been, but he also enjoyed a good song or conversation to keep him sane, and that just wasn't feasible in a place like this.

“I think George may grin and make a witty quip about the beauties of Silvermoon. I think that man would be able to find a leper comely in at least one way.” Amavia giggled and winked, her hand pressed to her lips to stifle the sound and not incur the wrath of any librarians. “And yes please. I’ve never had a cup of coffee to be quite honest but I’d be willing to try it. Especially if it leads to a lesson in something so exciting.” His smirk and willingness to try her somewhat cracked idea had the girl grinning herself and she gave a little wave at the stacks of books she’d pulled out. “This pile-” She motioned to the one closest to him. “Looked the most promising to me. But I removed the others just in case. Did you find something you preferred? I noticed you had a book too.”

"The book is ah..." He shuffled the book quickly into his lap with a slightly-embarrassed smile. "The book is something for later. The folder here," he gestured quickly to the manila envelope, "is the real treat. I subpoenad a record of all expulsions and dishonorable dismissals from the Order over the last decade like you wanted. I'm afraid the requisition for dropouts is going to take a -wee- bit longer. Apparently there's enough names on THAT roster to fill this entire library. The clerks are getting it done though." He nodded, seeming just a little prouder of himself that he was not, and would never, be on that particular list.

Amy canted her head to the side but dropped the subject of the book. For now. Work was far more important than whatever made his lips quick into such a nervous expression for the moment. Her light purple gloves trailed over the manila folder and she smiled widely at him. “Raoul, I’m so delighted! This will be so exciting to peruse! I’m afraid I might get overly loud in my pleasure at it so let’s hurry and select a tome.” Eager hands wandered to the pile near him and she took the middle book out. ‘Seeing What’s Beyond You: Advanced Divination’ was the title and a scrying crystal was emblazoned in red gilt on the cover. “I liked this one best of all. I understand and can utilize basic divination skills but I think for this sort of magic we may need something more complicated than a bowl or water or a crystal ball. Or do you think we should check out several just in case?”

"I believe the library has a limit on how many books can be checked out. We'll split the responsibility if they do. Do you know which ones you want already?" He looked down to her pile of books and then to the one in her hands.

The one in her hands was stacked with three more from other various piles and she made a neat little group in front of her. “Do you want to carry the folder and the binder? I can get the books.” As she spoke she slid from the chair and pushed it back in beneath the table as she did. Her selected volumes would be too large of a burden for her satchel -which wasn’t even with her today, curious- but she could put the smaller two in the pockets of her coat at the least.

"Haha, how about the other way around?" He stood as well, brushing back his hair before extending the binder towards in her in an offer to trade. "I have my own book to carry anyway, after all." The mystery tome was tucked under his arm again, hiding the cover from her effectively.

Amber eyes narrowed curiously and she just stared at him a moment before she took the binder in hand. The folder followed it and she held them both to her chest as her arcane familiar swirled to get out of the way. “Ah, thanks. That’s really nice of you.” She peeked at her feet to hide the confused expression that flitted across her features and hugged the folders to her chest a little tighter.

"Just good old fashioned decency, I'm afraid." He smiled and took the burden from her without letting it falter. "Do you remember where the checkout desk is in this place? I swear there are damn near 100 stories in this place on my bad days."

“Follow me.” Good old fashioned decency? Maybe he was just a kind man and saw the best in others even when there was little of it. If his connection to Valerie was any indication of that she could be on to something. Her coat floated out from her thighs as she walked down one of the main aisles and took a sharp turn between two shelves. A checkout desk was at the end of the row and the clerk behind it wasn’t aiding anyone else. She only glanced once over her shoulder at him and smiled faintly as she continued in that direction.

He followed behind, keeping both pace and a respectful distance. His eyes wandered in a bored way, scanning the titles on the spines of books. It was clear he was resisting the urge to hum or whistle.

The librarian was a weathered old man who stared at them with watery blue eyes as they reached his desk. Various pens and quills were in a holder and he glanced at Amavia’s badge before motioning for the books. “Apprentices may take out two tomes at a time. Will you each be taking two or shall I put some on the cart for the guardians to shelve?” His tone dripped with annoyance at the idea these two impertinent youths would cause him to have to do such a thing and he was already sighing heavily at the idea. Such a burden. The girl peered at Raoul quickly and flashed a smile. “Still wish to split it?”

"-Indeed-." Raoul said the word in a curious, approving way as he set the books on the counter. "Oh, Hawkins- you didn't forget the card at the table, did you?" He arched a brow at her as he looked at the manila folder and binder in her hands.

“Card? I didn’t notice one! I’ll go check for it, I’m sorry!” What card? Her brow furrowed and she turned on heel and began to walk at a quick pace in the direction they came from. Her familiar stayed at the edge of the counter and reached up to rest his hands atop it. Glowing eyes barely made it over the edge and he openly stared at the wizened librarian who seemed to not even notice the creature.

He pretended to roll his eyes 'knowingly', as if she often did such things. However it was all in jest, as he knew there was no card. Instead he handed over the mystery tome first, then his one of the divination tomes. Once they were checked out and cleared in his name, he turned around and leaned his back against the desk. Arms were folded and he occasionally looked over the librarian with a short nod and a smile. "She'll be back in just a moment."

There was certainly no card! Amavia knelt on the floor and peeked beneath the table in her hunt for it. A rush of a memory filled her mind and she gave a quiet gasp as her hands braced themselves against the floor. The lab table and the sheet spilling off her. Bloodied sheet and blood on her body and pain flaring in the wounds as she’d slipped off the table and crouched just like this. Trying to find something another boy had misplaced. The color drained from her cheeks and she shook her head. Raoul must have the card. Better not to think on these things. He probably found it in his pocket as soon as she walked off. He hadn't meant it to hurt her so bad. Her pace back to the desk was slower than her initial brisk walk, hands shoved into the deep pockets of her coat. “I didn’t find the card. I’m sorry.” Eyes stayed on the wooden floor and she wet her lips nervously. Hopefully they could still check out what they needed without this mystery card.

"Oh right, it's in the manila folder." He patted her shoulder without really knowing why and tried to brighten the room with his own smile since hers seemed to have vanished. "I could have -sworn- you opened the envelope. Oh well. Here, I'm all done." He stepped out of the way then, allowing her to move forward and check out the other divination tomes.

Amavia blinked and did what was required of her to take the books out in her name. It made her smile to think that she could withdraw almost any of these volumes. There were so many she didn’t know if a person could read that much in a lifetime. Even a person as long lived as a night elf or a draenei! Once finished she added the two tomes to her pile of binder and manila foler and smiled slightly at Raoul. “Where to now?”

"There's a little coffee shop George took me to once, down by the Legerdemain. The building's a bit crowded, but it has a lovely terrace overlooking the Runeweaver Square. Sound good?" Without asking, he attempted to take the two tomes from her possession. He'd offered to carry the books, after all.

There was no effort to resist and she smiled and held the files close to her chest again. “You won’t be embarrassed that I don’t know what to order? Jeffrey takes his coffee hot and black or cold and black and neither ever looked any good to me.” She wrinkled her nose, an expression of playful distate on her face as she headed towards the exit of the library. “And I’d prefer to be outdoors. We’re having such nice weather that being cooped up makes me antsy.”

"Hot and black or cold and black. This Jeffrey guy's not much for variety, is he?" It was a playful jab and as far as he was willing to go on the matter right now. He had a lot to say after reading the dossier, but there was a time and place for such conversations- and a coffee house terrace on a beautiful day like today was not one of them. So distracted by the runaway train of thoughts, he almost walked right into the door. At the last moment he managed a charming save by turning and opening it for her. Unless someone had been watching the distant look in his eyes, they might have assumed that was his intention from the beginning.

“Well he does get rather set in his ways.” Her shoulders shrugged and fingertips dug into the edge of the folder. That distant look was reflected in her own eyes and she took a nervous swallow to banish whatever other words were forming on her tongue. She bumped against him as he turned, not a very hard movement and truly just her folded arms brushing against him quickly as she tried to recover her own grace and step inside. “Sorry! I was just thinking a moment about something. I can get rather wrapped up in my thoughts.” She glanced around the shop and gave him a nervous smile. “You will tell me what is delicious, won’t you?”

He smiled at her, but it wavered. "Of course, Hawkins. I can't be seen with someone drinking subpar coffee. You'd ruin my cred with the baristas."

“What’s a barista?” She tried out this new word, so foreign on her tongue, and smiled up at him. “Is that thalassian?” It sounded almost elvish.

He laughed despite himself, then cleared his throat and tried to give her a serious look. It didn't last very long though and he sighed, almost laughing again. "Oh boy. We've got a long way to go with you, Hawkins."

Amavia + Raoul First Meeting

It was a warmer day in Dalaran and for that the young woman was thankful. Often the breezes that blew in from Icecrown and the Stormpeaks kept it chillier than Amavia was used to and that coupled with the altitude at which the magical city floated led to her keeping her room warmer than others might prefer. Warm enough that she could sit in a light pair of pants and a tank top while she ate her strudel and read over the case files again and again.

Amavia almost felt like she knew some of the victims now and was pleased by it. Such knowledge would lead to her better understanding the case wouldn’t it? The constant yellowed folders kept her busy, her mind off where and what her husband was doing, and she almost forgot about her meeting. Were it not for her familiar exploding into arcane sparks and practically throwing the robe she’d picked out, the girl may have missed it. Thankfully it broke her free from her frantic note taking at the time she’d directed it to and quickly the girl dressed.

A blue and silver robe was slipped on, the edges embroidered with snowflakes and the whole thing looked rather icy - down to the snowflake charm that hung off the back of her hood. Matching gloves and slippers were put on and with her satchel over her shoulder as she fled her room. Steps were ignored and she simply cast a a slow fall spell to land at the bottom with a light brush of footsteps.

She’d intended to be early to meet her new partner but if she rushed she’d be on time barring a parade or a block in the road. Seeing neither Amavia breathed a sigh of relief and kept on towards the well. One quick mutter and she skipped forward, blinking through the empty space. This spell was repeated several times till she slowed and walked the rest of the way towards the nearby well, keen eyes looking for her new, hopefully, friend.

He was leaning against the well by the time she got there (probably long before). A manila folder was open in his hands, black and red block letter across the front. Maybe it was a case file, but from the distance each letter was too small to read. There didn't seem to be any kind of familiar around him, and he wasn't dressed like the brilliant mage that George had made him out to be. He had dark slacks, a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a plain vest of brown.

Really he could have passed for a commoner or a servant boy. His expression only helped that image, eyes narrowed in focus at what he was reading. A touch of bangs shielded his eyes from the sun at least, or no doubt his face would have been twisted even more from whatever regal and 'noble' look someone might have expected him to have. Perhaps on a whim, he looked up from the folder and glanced at her. There was no welcoming smile, but rather a slight jerk of his chin to acknowledge she was on her way.

"You must be Hawkins," he called. The manila folder closed immediately and was tucked under his arm.

His reserved attitude didn’t shock the girl; George had said he was a bit hard to get along with. Her nicest smile stayed on her lips as she stopped in front of him and offered her hand to shake. “You can call me Amavia, Amy if you’re feeling rather friendly, as long as I may call you Raoul.” As she was closer she tried to read the cover of the folder, eyes darting to the lettering quickly.

“I look forward to working with you! Your dossier left a very good impression.” The hand not held outward in greeting rummaged in her satchel and she removed a slim, hardcover book entitled ‘Horatio Laine Always Gets His Man’ and offered it to him. “I thought since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together we could maybe get to be friends. And that’s a copy of my favorite book. Perhaps you’ll like it too.”

It was a little awkward and she gave a nervous giggle at the end. Was this how you made friends? A gust of wind blew her hood back and she glared up at the sky as if it did it just to spite her.

He stared at her for a second, maybe a minute even, until he finally accepted the book.

"Thank you. Maybe I will." As soon as he'd tucked the book under his arm, he raked a hand through his chestnut brown hair. "I, uhh, I didn't bring you anything in return. I was expecting this to be all business."

A very quick sigh escaped him. "But, ah, I could. If you like. I enjoy reading as well."

The giggle was not returned, but he did relax his eyes from their narrowed peering. The dossier comment was missed or ignored (probably the latter). He had to switch the book and folder to under his other arm, but he did finally return the handshake.

"Call me Raoul then if it suits you. I think I'll stick with Hawkins for now."

For now. Maybe there was still hope.

“I didn’t expect anything but the pleasure of having a partner who is as anxious as I to get to work. And if you desire it to be all business,” she gave a slight shrug and began to fumble with her satchel again, “we can do that.”

Another book was pulled from her bag and she flipped through the pages till she found the one she wanted. “George told me it was our assignment to identify these people. Do you have any thoughts on that?” The smile faded from her lips but her expression, though more serious, was still pleasant.

The shift in tone actually seemed to ease him a great deal. His shoulders didn't seem as tight anymore and he did in fact look anxious to get to work. He glanced at the page she flipped to, trying to read for notes or what evidence George might have given -her-. He lifted his right hand to knock away some of his own bangs, and the V ring glittered in the light.

"From what information was provided to me, I'd say at least two of the victims knew each other. Almost all of the victims were discovered here in Dalaran at the very spot where they were tortured and killed, so I imagine the perpetrator is local. That means many of the victims could be local too.

“Mutilating the face like that is a more intimate form of mutilation. Guilt maybe. Jealousy is likely too. He could be a disfigured person. That should narrow down an initial search for him."

He glanced her way, trying to meet her eyes. George had mentioned they were beautiful.

"As for the victims themselves, I think divination on the blood samples could easily tell us who they are, or at least show us their intact faces. I'm not sure why the lab hasn't already done that, or what George is having them look for."

The pages of her notebook were covered in notes penned in neat, girlish handwriting and simple hand drawn maps of Dalaran with the locations of the corpses marked upon them. For the most part they seemed to be quick reference for some of the clues and evidence, cause of death and the like. Several questions were written on the page with things she was extremely interested in underlined.

As he spoke her eyes gained quite the enchanted light and were bright with admiration already. Here was a man who was serious about his work and she could feel herself growing to admire him. Those eyes George mentioned met his and were a rather pretty shade in the sunlight.

“Raoul! Those are all outstanding ideas! I was thinking right along the same vein and also so curious as to why George hadn’t requested that sort of testing. Are you personally skilled whatsoever in divination?”

He smiled with just the corner of his mouth. It had taken the dual instances of her eyes being as pretty as they were with her approval to get even that much out of him.

"I dabbled during my studies. I was taught more how to effectively apply magic in even ordinary circumstances. Application rather than specialization. If I had the proper tome and reagents though, I could at least put forth an honest effort. We would have to request the samples first though."

He shrugged at that and gave her polite space, rather than craning over her to read her book as he had been.

“Another time I’d love to hear of your education! I have been wildly curious about Silvermoon since I first heard of it. I’ve heard such amazing things about their skills in enchanting and magical constructs! And Kael’thas was one of the most powerful mages in the school of abjuration which happens to be my favorite!”

The girl blushed slightly as she realized she was rambling and pressed her gloved fingertips to her lips.

“Apologies. It’s rare I have anyone to discuss this sort of thing with. But I’ve employed divination in the past when investigating for excellent results. Using blood as the focus would be something new to me as well. Perhaps we could put in the request at the lab and if it will take sometime to process visit the scenes - the ones we can that is - while we wait? I’ve always found it useful to put in time at the site even after the crime occurred. Sometimes simple evidence can be overlooked and it may bear useful to see the sites with our own eyes.”

"As far as I know the scenes are still intact and closed off, except for vic seven at the Sunreaver's Sanctuary. They're not going to help us, that much is certain. We're lucky they relented and handed over the body." He shrugged and exhaled in a sort of sigh.

"If you have your badge then we can go looking at them right now."

“I don’t have a badge. All George gave me were the files and your dossier. If you’d like we could split up or could you perhaps contact him and inquire how to acquire one? I’m afraid he didn’t give me a comm device.”

Amavia tucked a strand of auburn hair behind a tanned ear and gave him a shy little smile and shrug. “Or I can go to his apartment and you can head to the lab.”

"Oh-! Oh, wait-" He patted around his vest pocket, then opened the small flap and pulled out a shiny badge. It had an engraving which read:

"Amavia Hawkins

Appr. K.T.I."

There were also flourishes of glittering purple sparks around it and a hologram Kirin Tor eye flickering over the blank top.

"I forgot it was actually my job to give this to you when we met. I don't know about the communication device though. You'd have to ask George."

“I think were I meant to have one he’d have given it to me. Perhaps it was his aim to make us communicate with each other more.” She took the badge with a whispered thank you and stared at it. It was so official and she felt so...so special!

The smile on her lips was just as pleased as she had been on her wedding day and she gripped the trinket carefully. It was -important- and it made her feel so too. “Where to first? Do you know the location of the lab?”

"The lab? There are several locations. They're all run by sentries though. George would have to announce that we were on our way." He pulled out his own badge, identical to hers in everything but name. He kept his in his pocket rather than his vest.

How curious.

"As for the sites, the closest one to here would be the one in the Magus Commerce Exchange."

“We’ll need to request the from George than, as soon as possible. Do you know when he wishes to see us? He told me once a week and you would relay anything more to me.” She looked at the badge and then smiled up at him as she pinned her badge to her satchel. That taken care of she peered at her notes quickly before she snapped her book shut.

“Right then, to vic one’s scene.” With no other warning than that she turned on heel and headed towards the Exchange.

"You have the address?" He called after her, quickly picking up pace. "What exactly did he give you? George, I mean." Even after sprinting to catch up with her, he wasn't out of breath. Healthy, in good shape. A decent partner to have on what would no doubt be a demanding investigation.

Amavia looked him over once and smiled in an approving fashion. Though Jeffrey looked like her old love again she knew it would never be the same; he’d be back to scruffy beards and exhaustion soon enough. Light, he had slept till midday on sunday! Whatever he was doing to himself in that lab it had taxed his health and sapped his energy.

“He gave me files with the case notes and lists of evidence and locations. If you’d like we can compare the files after we visit the scenes. I’d like to see what George gave you as well.” Her eyes flickered back to the entrance to the Exchange and she shook her head. “I haven’t the address but if it’s still closed off...well, there are only so many alleys in the Exchange, Raoul.”

"That..." He paused and nodded, finally returning her smile, "...is a good idea. There might be a few arcane sentries around, but our badges should clear us for there at least. I should think that the holo-tape will give it away. Sticks out a bit like a sore thumb, but it's effective. Clever inventions, I think. But, yeah, that's around what he gave me, I believe."

He straightened his vest then and peered around as they were walking.

“If the badges don’t get us past the sentries well, they’re not very useful in investigating our assignment.” Slight shoulders shrugged beneath her robe as she turned onto the street and peered at the mouth of the first alley.
Amavia wet her lips quickly and turned to Raoul, the smile gone entirely. “I want to apologize now if I’m a little tense. The last alleyway I was in was the scene of a my beloved’s dead governess while on the job. She was murdered moments before we arrived and I will do my best to be professional but I would be lax in not mentioning it. In case I get a little nervous. So, ah, I apologize now.” Nervous was a good word for her hurried speech and the way she nibbled at her lower lip after speaking.

He didn't reply at all, but his expression was vaguely sympathetic. What did she expect telling him something like that? Not that it mattered.

True enough to their expectations, one of the alleys between Cartier & Co. and the alchemy shop was blocked off by holo-tape. Two very small arcane elementals were standing guard, rotating back and forth as they scanned the area. A third was pacing up and down the alley itself. One might have expected for there to be grim, dark shadows and an eerie mist, or even just grime and filth. But that wasn't the case.

Like most of Dalaran, the alley was a clean, purple and cream stone with little trash. The only thing out of place was the blood and the magical outline where the body had once been.

"Kirin Tor Investigators are passing through the border." Raoul announced flatly, flashing his badge at each sentry before crossing the tape. He didn't flinch or act nervous. Maybe he'd already done this before.

Amavia flashed her own badge at the sentries and returned her book to her bag. In its place she withdrew the same evidence collection kit she’d used at the scene of Ms. Gunwood’s murder. The small leather case was held in her hand as she looked to Raoul. “I wish had an image capturing device. Such handy things.”

Instead of wallowing in annoyance with herself she knelt by the blood stained pavement and withdrew a little tool to try and scrape up the tiniest of samples. “So we can perhaps get started earlier if the labs will take longer than we’d like to release the evidence.”

"We can requisition a device from George if we have good enough reason." He knelt beside her and watched her process like an ardent student.

"Oh, and if we ask nicely of course." Perhaps it was because of what she had said, but he was doing his best to be reassuring and friendly now. As often as she allowed, he looked her in the eye whenever he talked to her. She had his full attention when she spoke.

"So Vic one... he was wearing apprentice robes, but we don't have any of Our own missing." Our own. Mages. Kirin Tor specifically. Not people like Jeffrey. Not the outcasts- or maybe that was reading too much into his statement.

Raoul put careful, but sure, fingers to the outline of the body. There was a lot of confidence in how he brushed along the stones, trailing parallel to the lines. His eyes finally drew away from her, staring distantly as he rambled his thoughts.

"The material evidence states he had a gold wedding band on his hand, but I personally think it's too soon to assume that. Someone might want us to think it was a wedding ring. The perpetrator might have even placed it there. On the other hand, it does give us some indication of their age, where height alone fails us. Men's size ring, fit well I think. Mature, however young. This man had come into his own by the time he was killed."

His nice shoes made a soft scraping sound as he shifted, his fingertips finally caressing to the torso of the outline. The more he looked at it, the more he realized that it wasn't his shadow he was looking at, but an expansive bloodstain.

While they spoke she kept her eyes on his as well, nodding at his words and a considering light filling her eyes as he spoke. He was intelligent, well-spoken, polite.

Were all young men like this or was he an exception?

Or was Jeffrey?

His own eyes were rather pretty too and she found herself admiring them a moment while she listened. It startled her and she reminded herself to show him the same courtesy he was displaying towards her.

When he glanced away she dropped her eyes to the scene again and nodded along as he spoke. "Do they still have the bodies? They found a tooth at vic six's scene. These two seemed to share some connections in my mind and if he is missing any I'd like to see if it matches." The slivers of scraped blood were brushed into a glass vial and she promptly corked it shut before placing it in the case.

Other vials caught her eye and she frowned at them. Edi's blood and hair and threads from her dress. If she developed a strength in divination she'd return to them someday. Perhaps learn if Jeffrey's mad assumptions were right. Or learn if he were just as guilty, just as bad, as the man he killed to "avenge" her.

Amavia incanted quickly and called a small globe of arcane light into being. It floated a few feet above the pair and illuminated the alley brightly, dispelling any shadows from the buildings. Amber eyes glanced around and narrowed as she searched for anything out of place.

“The bodies are still at the lab yes..." The last word was drawn out as he crouched down even more to examine the bloodstain.

"The autopsy report said the hemorrhage was mostly internal based on the damage of the wounds, but clearly it left the body. They wouldn't know that of course, because they haven't actually seen the scene, but -we- know it. And while there -is- a fair bit of blood here, this doesn't look like nearly enough to describe extreme ex-sanguination, does it?"

He glanced up to the wall, bangs falling against his left eye. It was well-groomed and cared for, like all of his clothes and of course the shoes that shined under her arcane globe.

"The blood splatter didn't get very high, so I don't think there was wild slashing. Right...if there had been, the perp would've been covered in blood. That doesn't really prove they knew what they were doing, just that they were slow about it." Finally, he glanced back to Amavia, trying to meet her wandering eyes.

"Tell me this, if vic one was gutted like a fish, rending just the inside organs and arteries, not this much blood should have left the body, right? /Unless/ the perp opened the wound deliberately," He mimed with his hands, sticking fingers into an invisible body and "pulling" it open.

"But then, there should be a -lot- more blood, don't you think? It's in some weird twilight where it was here but it isn't now... what happened to it?"

“They may have kept it.” She withdrew her notebook and started to pen down these ideas with the quill George had gifted to her. “One of the cases I did the killer removed the heart. Always the heart. She kept it as a token or trophy. Each one of these victims is mutilated in some fashion, perhaps each way was a trophy - beyond the faces.”

One thin brow was quirked and her eyes stayed on his as they spoke. “I know of at least one way to remove large amounts of blood with minimal splash. Though I’m loathe to think that device is involved with this.”

"Oh?" He was clearly intrigued, looking at nothing but her now. "What device? This early in the game, it can't hurt to at least consider things." He glanced down at her notebook and the quill.

"I recognize that plumage. It's from the Worthington Aviary. Gift from George?" He smiled.

She tapped the feather to her lips and smiled. “The Worthingtons have given me great gifts but this was from George indeed. It’s my nickname while working. Quill.”

Why had she mentioned it?

Stupid girl! Jeffrey couldn’t be involved in this, could he? But the flesh and the organs and his experiment - it made her shudder.

“The device is called the Blood Transfluxicatifier-mechinator. The only one I’ve seen in use was in the possession of a Jeffrey-Ellis Sangrey.” Amber eyes kept glued to his face, to gauge his reaction.

George must have included Jeffrey in her dossier.

"George has a brother named Jeffrey Ellis. That's kind of creepy." Raoul laughed and pretended to shiver the uncomfortable similarity away. But then he waved his hand and kept his genuine smile up. "

Anyway, you should seek out this Sangrey and find out what he's up to with that machine. Find out if he sold it, or- actually, find out if he's -using- it. It might be too good to be true to find out if he's our guy so don't bother trying to arrest him now or anything. For all we know he has nothing to do with this. After all, this splash doesn't look very minimal to me. They spilled a lot of blood here, but they couldn't have gotten it on themselves. It's like they KNEW what they were doing, but they didn't."

He paused, rubbing his clean shaven chin.

"You don't suppose there could have been two of them, do you? A first-timer and a more experienced killer? That could explain the children," Though his voice didn't falter at the mention, his eyes clearly did. It hit him hard in ways he wasn't about to share. "Children are easier to subdue, especially if they were being taught how to kill. The way predators would teach their young with injured or small animals, you know?" He glanced back up, meeting her eyes again.

“Jeffrey-Ellis Sangrey is George’s brother. And was my fiance.” It was a white lie in way; he was her fiance because he was now her husband. “He is currently wanted for necromancy and immoral experiments and George will be trying to bring him in for charges soon. This week. I know for a fact though that he was, up until a few days ago, still using it. But it could be a shared piece of equipment.”

As she spoke of Jeffrey and the manipulator her eyes dropped to the stones and she looked around again for anything out of sorts. Raoul knew what it was like to be partnered to a madperson but she certainly didn’t want to draw similarities between Valerie and Lantern. “I am interested in your theory though. It is quite possible and even more worrisome if that’s so.”

Raoul cleared his throat and nodded. Whatever was with her and Sangrey? That was her business. And George hadn't brought it up, so it wasn't relevant to the case. Not yet anyway.

"Well, I'm sure George will do what needs to be done. That's what he's good at, above all else. If you want to pursue that theory, about the transfluxic-whatever you said, you should check in with George first. Tampering with the device or discussing it with Sangrey could inadvertently be tampering with evidence needed for the other case."

He swallowed in a barely noticeable way and looked back down at the outline.

"I think there has to be something along those lines going on. This is a lot of work for one person to do in the time span that some of the bodies have been found mutilated, between death and discovery as well as between each individual killing. A team effort sounds more likely, even if that doesn't describe a lot of the way. You mentioned trophies. That could be the face, but the killer takes other things as well. Sentimentality and practicality? Or maybe, going with the partners theory, they're each taking their own trophies..."

He trailed off, standing up to stretch his legs as he thought.

"Yes... that makes some sense. An experienced killer would already be set in his or her ways. They know what they like, what they want, out of the murders. So they would always take the face, whereas a novice or apprentice might still be trying to find his or her 'signature'. They could be doing various things in a kind of experimentation to find their style. What do you think?"

“I think that is very probable. I’d like to go through the records and see what students went missing or were expelled in ah, I’m not sure of a timeframe. Let’s say the last decade. This could be a case of revenge too. Organs and parts can be used in darker magics that would get a student removed from the Order.”

She shifted in place, lost in thought a moment before she spoke. “Regardless of that though, I agree with your earlier statement that the killer is someone residing in Dalaran. If we can I’d like to get records from the inns of people who have checked in as well as anyone who has recently purchased or rented any sort of living space here. Though, I think they’re a mage. And that doesn’t necessarily mean they have to stay here. It could just be more convenient.”

"That sounds like a good idea. Do you want me to get a hold of those records then, or is that something you'd like to do yourself? Or we could split the load. One of us get the student records, and the other obtain the inn records. Just, ah, make sure to bring your badge with you."

Raoul flashed her another smile.

She dismissed her globe of light and smiled back. “Let’s split it. I’ll take whichever you don’t want. and we could meet up while we look them over. That way if we have any thoughts on the findings we can share them instantly. Though, I think we need to focus on identifying the bodies. But for that we need to requisition the samples and locate the proper divination spells. I could attempt it with the ones I used before but as I said I’m not certain using blood as the focus will garner the results we desire.”

"I'll take the student records then, as I've requested to browse through them before. I suppose I could grab a divination tome from the library on the way, or..." He combed back his hair and then tucked his hands in his pockets.

"We could meet there and look together, while we discuss our findings. Whatever works for you." He shrugged, hands still in his pockets and a distant smile still on his face.

"I'm not worried, Hawkins. They're preparing someone to be a hunter, but we'll prepare them to be the hunted."

As he gave the one-liner, he turned on his heel back down the alley. "I think that's enough for today, for me. I've got to get down to the hold. I'll be in touch soon. Oh, and-" He paused and looked back at her, softened by everything she had confessed about Sangrey.

"-Fly straight, Hawkins."

One could almost swear he winked at her as he crossed the holo-tape and rounded the corner.

Gently she put her quill and book away and then dusted her hands off on her robe. “Take care, Raoul.” It was quiet and likely he didn’t hear her and he certainly didn’t see her little wave as he disappeared around the corner.

♥ for love, V for Valerie. That poor man. Going to see the one who abused him.

Dutiful. Intelligent. Kind.

How could someone hurt someone like that?

Would people say the same about her if they knew what Jeffrey had done? She shook her head and sighed as she left the scene too. There was no point in bothering George in person but she’d leave a note requesting the samples promptly at his apartment. Slide it under the door before she went about trying to acquire the records needed.

Quiet footfalls were her only sounds now and she glanced back at the stained ground.

They had to catch these killers.

Had to.