#baronyofthesilverwolf

It's only about a 30 minute drive to Watertown on a good day, but today it seems to be only minutes before they are pulling up outside of the Smyth household. Trina will be sure to notice an unfamiliar car in the driveway, pulled up behind Janice's Audi. A yellow taxi? Common as dirt in a big city like NYC, but Watertown has only just started to see Uber and Lyft pop up. Sure, you can get a cab, if you schedule it in advance...

Does the cab seem to have a driver in it, or is it waiting without? Is the motor running?

The car is idling, motor low - the exhaust makes a cloud as it hits the cold air. No one is inside...

Her brow worried, she tries to find a place to park so the pumpkin mobile wonn't be seen but still be closed "Maybe we should sabatoge that taxi, hide this, then go inside.. "

"I can probably handle the car. Pull some spark plugs..."

"go. watc out. Guy has weather magics"

Only one never has managed to follow them through the confusion of the alarm and then the breakneck speed. It clings to Thistle's collar.

"Yeah, magic n'shit. I don't have that, but I can fuck up an engine!"

"go" And after thistle hops outt, shee parks thte pumpkin to the side of the house on the grass and turns it off, locks it up and looks for a way in

Thistle looks at the house, but takes a deep breath and goes to the cab instead.

A way in? Well, there's always the front door. It's actually slightly ajar. Gwen has been in this way. Or there is likely a back door as well.

The windows are tightly closed against the winter chill.

The yellow cab idles, the engine whining slightly against the cold. Thistle knows that if left too long, it will run out of gas or the battery might die, but for now, the car left running remains cozy warm inside!

She tests the driver's side handle.

Unlocked!

Well then! She slips inside to turn off the car and pop the hood.

Keys are in the ignition still, as well. She easily removes them and can lift the hood at the front of the sedan. It's the same basic principal as Gert's guts, which she's broken down and completely reassembled at least three times.

Out to look under the bonnet - there should be a cluster of wires that lead to the spark plugs.

Nothing out of the ordinary there! The spark plugs are a bit corroded - this car needs a tune-up.

Wish I brought Ivan!

She goes to the back door to see if it's unlocked

She rolls her eyes and fishes her leatherman out of her bag. It isn't the proper tool, but pliers will do it.

The back door is locked!

The one never... what color was it again? Tugs at Thistle's collar and flits in her face a bit, making the work a touch more difficult.

Front door it is! She maybe heavy, but Gwen has hustled on the lacrosse field

"Feh! What is it!?"

"I know, Frankie!"

Gwen's feet crunch in the snow along the side of the house as she hustles around back to the front!

As she reaches the front door, she can hear the mutter of voices inside!

Spear ready, she just fucking enters.

"That's right. It's time for the boy to go to school. Eh?." The wheedling tone is familiar, Gwen recognizes the Spriggan who she caught at the Den! There is a feel of glamour in the air, some cantrip at work...

Janice responds, her voice tentative. "I... I don't... yes. Of course. He must go to school."

"Mom?? It's dinner time. I don't go to school at night. Mom?!" Frankie sounds confused.

Thistle manages to pop out the spark plugs with a little elbow grease, despite Pthalo getting in her way. This car isn't going anywhere.

Gwen wants revenge, and for a moment, her Daireann side wars with her troll side! But in the clutch, turns out she's a guardian, more than than an avenger... and she slides between Frankie and the Sprigan "Frankie, your sister sent me! Do NOT go with this man!"

She slams the hood shut and turns to go INSIDE.

If she has a channce to stab the thallian with her spear on top of that, fine, but the priority is being a shield for the boy

Gwen finds that when she enters the room, she can't really get between the two, as the Spriggan has the boy held tight! The Spriggan has an arm around Frankie's shoulders - well, across his neck, really, a good lock on the boy. Frankie squirms a bit, but is firmly grasped.

"YOU again! Why must you..." Stilz starts, but then smirks. "You know what, fine. This works! You just took the middle-man out of the equation. Miss Knight, lower your stick if you're ready to make a bargain."

Janice is also hovering nearby and looks more baffled as Gwen appears. "Jen?? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"

SLAM through the front door!

"you harm one hair on Frankie's head and I'll destroy you" Gwen snaps

As Thistle enters the fray, she finds a standoff in the kitchen!

Frankie yells as he sees his sister. "TRINAaaaaaaaa!" He gets a bit of a shake that cuts him off.

"You - YOU'RE the one that brought this on, don't you forget it!" Stilz snaps at her. "You put out a bounty on my HEAD. Your damn troll cop has been patrolling the roads! My face is at the train stations and airport! But now I've got LEVERAGE. You want the brat? Fine! But in return, I get safe passage out of this damned County!"

Oh, so that's a Spriggan. Thistle's gut twists with a mixture of revulsion and instinctual fear. She hadn't seen a thallain before, she didn't know - and in an instant, she does.

Trina's first impression of the man who is holding onto her step-brother is that he reeks. Like a homeless man who has layers of bodily fluids caked on his clothing and hasn't seen even a raindrop to wash with in weeks. His gray hair is scraggly and unkempt, and his expression just plain nasty - currently calculating and smug.

"You LET GO OF MY BROTHER YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A TEQUILA HANGOVER SKIDMARK!"

"FUCK YOURSELF ALL THE WAY TO TIMBUKTU THAT AIN'T GWEN'S BROTHER HE'S MINE YOU POD-SNOTTED ASSHOLE!!"

Her spirals are gleaming crimson with RAGE!

"I'm not an IDIOT, you ninny-brained clown-faced brat! She doesn't HAVE a kid to nab! There's a damned cop thane seated on the porch of the Handmaid's get, and even I'm not foolish enough to go for the kin of the Baron's heir. It's nothing PERSONAL."

He reasons, his voice oily. His free hand clutches some small device that gleams with glamour.

Gwen tries to see if there is somethinngg Strapped to Frannkie?

"I don't give a fuck about your beef with Gwen, you carcass! IT IS FUCKING PERSONAL. Let him GO."

The Spriggan has Frankie tightly grasped, and in his free hand, holds - a pocketwatch that gleams with Glamour!

Janice, meanwhile, has just about HAD IT, and is confused and befuddled!

"ALRIGHT, all of you need to stop SHOUTING in my KITCHEN! What's going on?!"

"He's gonna hurt Frankie, Janice!"

"I WILL let him go - as soon as Knighty there swears my safe passage, I'll be gone out of your damn county in a second!"