#bergen_county

He straightens. “Don’t worry about the treasure. You did the right thing by going to the chief, whether I like the attention or not. It will all be okay.” He softly reassures her.

"I thought I was doing the right thing..." she trails off. "I thought I was saving you."

“You are.” He leans forward and presses his lips against her forehead (only possible when she’s sitting and he’s standing!)

“We save each other. That’s how we do. Get some rest, okay?”

"You need to, too. Sleep and eat and everything."

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

"Okay. I'll introduce you to the new fledge, too. She's been crashing on our couch, in case you spot mystery piskie."

He looks a bit surprised, but then nods. “Roger.” Before heading out.

She watches him go before retreating to her room.

And as far as she knows, only Odin is there to see her cry into a pillow.

Odin curls near her. It's sentimental, but he does love his person

She huffs, and gets up off the bed. "MOM, DAD, I'M GOING TO THE LODGE"

Jaymes calls up "Let us know if we can help with anything " He wants to say more but his daughter can be headstrong. Frankly he thinks she gets it from her mother

She heads out, hopping on the motorcyle - not a long walk, no, but the bike is still faster.

AND ZOOM :racing_motorcycle:

-----------------------------------------------------

The whine of two motorcycle engines in the distance.

Before the cyke's show up, a Knight's Heart cab spins into view, and screeches to a halt. Lovecraft HISSES and scratches a deep gouge in the leather seat as she jumps out.

Apparently, not a big fan of car rides.

Sylvi's already paid the driver via phone app, and she bursts out of the car. "Thank you! Come to Goldfinch if you ever need a recharge!"

Dagmar's bike roars, all green and gold and gleaming as she pushes it full throttle.

Kerri's bike had been right behind Dagmar's, but it's fallen behind. No time for Dagmar to worry about that, though.

"My upholstery!" A wail of dismay from the cab, but Lovecraft is already trotting away, with Sylvi on her heels. Around a corner, and then the Shadowcat stops, her ears twisting and turning like radar dishes. Dock 94 has a large yacht pulled up, waves splashing softly against the hull. The dock is illuminated in patches around lights, but with many dark shadowy gaps. Several buildings make up the marina.

Sylvi slows and takes her Bowie knife in hand. "Hear anything?" she asks Lovecraft.

Lovecraft sniffs the ground, and listens. A hiss as the sound of a motorcycle distracts her.

"C'mon, you can find him. Ignore the motor."

Dagmar isn't going for subtlety. She yanks the bike into a stop, kicking the stand as she dismounts. With a flare, her shining armour wraps around her muscular form.

"If you don't find him in the next minute, no sardines."

Lovecraft sits up. Her eyes lock around the corner. "One-eye's."

8 ft tall, blue, green and gold, with gleaming horns and an even taller polearm.

"Loud. Pfeh. That one catches no mice." A sniff.

Sylvi looks over and raises a hand in greeting to Dagmar, but urges Lovecraft. "Forty-five seconds."

"Tick-tock."

"Symon?" She calls - not a shout, but there's an edge to it.

And as Dagmar steps around the corner, Lovecraft's ears twitch in the absence of noisy motors. She focuses, and starts to pad onward. She gives Sylvi a narrow eyed look, green eyes gleaming, and hisses. "Shhhhhhhh."

There is the sound of voices, and some lights - but that's back the way Dagmar came, not the way Lovecraft is headed.

Towards a smaller building, with no lights visible through the shuttered windows. A sign advertises hot cocoa - this is a booth used when they do the Winter Fair at the harbour, shuttered for the summer.

Sylvi picks up the pace once she sees where Lovecraft is heading. No armor and cheerleader training make her marginally quieter than Dagmar.

She kenns for glamour as she approaches.

/roll 3 kenning

"Sy?" A crack in her voice. "Olly-olly-oxen-free? I know you can hear me."

Sylvi puts her back to the wall but tries to get a look inside the booth through whatever gaps may be available.

"Symon?" Okay, this might have been a flawed plan.

Alas, even if Symon responded, he would not be audible to fae from through closed doors (or even across the room, such is a true whisper)

Lovecraft stands on her hindpaws and swipes at the doorknob, and the door slides open, ajar. Her tail swishes as it disappears along with the cat into the darkness within. True darkness, not simply dim - not a light on in the place.

Dagmar remembers, Symon doesn't need light to see.
Sylvi's kenning reveals the definite touch of glamour within this small building - more of an expanded kiosk with a storage room.

There is the sound of a voice, though - Perc + Alertness, if one stops to listen rather than simply barging into the dark.

(PAUSE)

/roll 6