It is about 55/b/iF(12C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At High and Washington

Luna(Ooc: Can you invite Remy?)

(Your target and their allies discover a mundane human who has accidentally acquired a dangerous supernatural artifact. The artifact is slowly corrupting them, granting them power they don’t understand while feeding on their life force. They must convince the human to give up the intoxicating power before it’s too late, or find another way to separate them from the object.)

Jeremiah says “Sure. “

Jeremiah says “How, exactly? I’ve never invited someone else into an encounter.“

(OOC: Luna believes it is done with the summon command, but using ‘stell remy’ to explain before hand should help.)

Jeremiah says “Remy isn’t awake.“

Luna stares back for quite some time, until she rustles her right arm and gasps from the sting of it. Even then she stares back a second few seconds longer. “I… never find it easy to back off from somebody I see as the bully.” She looks away with a head sigh, countenance shifting to something very remorseful. Somber even. “But oui, you are right, I have to let it go… Neither of us does anything good if we become stuck to fighting each other…. hm?” That is what last happened with Luna, but now… it is in the hands of fate what happens next.

Also Luna was last in The Inkwell Coffee House, at a corner table.

You’re sitting there, having a conversation over the background sounds and scents of the Inkwell, when the door opens. A moment later, a plain looking middle-aged woman enters, closing the door behind her. She’s plump, with auburn hair pulled back into a short ponytail. She’s wearing a lavender sweater, pale blue mom jeans, and an older pair of Nike running shoes, and she’s looking closely at something in her hand. But the moment she feels eyes on hr, she quickly closes her hand and shoves it into one pocket of her jeans, as she walks over to the counter.

Luna is one of the pairs of eyes on the middle-aged woman at first. She glances back at her conversation partner, and then back to the middle-aged woman. Her attention stays strayed away from the corner table, but mostly she’s just checking the woman out, for now. “Do you think the nineties will call to ask her for their fashion accessories back?”, she says, not to anyone in particular this time.

At the counter, the woman asks begins to order coffee and a snack. “I’d like a cup of the house brew and a it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and the way it sparkles in the light is so lovely and I found it so it’s mine it’s mine and no one else’s…” Her voice gets lower as she continues to speak, the confused barista watching her but not speaking, as she slips a golden ring on her finger.

Well that gets Luna’s attention in a big way, and she gets up from her seat, squinting a little at the middle-aged woman. “I believe this may begin to scare her, oui?”, she asks, making her slow approach to the counter. Glances are given to the barista and the ring. “You are okay, Madamoiselle?”

She turns towards you and takes an automatic step away, the hand with the ring sliding behind her back. “Me? Yes, I’m… why wouldn’t I be okay?” She looks at the barista. “I’d like a cup of the Inkwell house brew and a bran muffin, with raisins.” The young punk-rock chick behind the counter starts tapping her computer screen, but then stops. “Uh… we don’t have bran muffins with raisins, sorry. Would you like something else?” she asks, pointing to the menu.@line Anger suffuses the woman’s face for a moment, gone almost as fast as it arrived. “I want a bran muffin with raisins, and you are going to get me one.” she says, her voice that of a now-annoyed soccer mom. The girl behind the counter flinches as though someone pinched her ass, then she nods. “I will get you a bran muffin, with raisins.” she says, and steps out from behind the counter, leaving through the front door as if on an important mission.

She turns towards you and takes an automatic step away, the hand with the ring sliding behind her back. “Me? Yes, I’m… why wouldn’t I be okay?” She looks at the barista. “I’d like a cup of the Inkwell house brew and a bran muffin, with raisins.” The young punk-rock chick behind the counter starts tapping her computer screen, but then stops. “Uh… we don’t have bran muffins with raisins, sorry. Would you like something else?” she asks, pointing to the menu.
Anger suffuses the woman’s face for a moment, gone almost as fast as it arrived. “I want a bran muffin with raisins, and you are going to get me one.” she says, her voice that of a now-annoyed soccer mom. The girl behind the counter flinches as though someone pinched her ass, then she nods. “I will get you a bran muffin, with raisins.” she says, and steps out from behind the counter, leaving through the front door as if on an important mission.

Luna glances back at the corner booth and sighs, muttering, “Sorry.” to someone. Then she’s quickly getting up in the middle-aged woman’s face, though keeping her right arm close in its pink sling. Her left hand comes up, and she points right at the woman’s nose. Her anger stays though. “Oh you think you get to just walk up in here and order her around like some kind of petasse!? Huh?! Look at me!” She glances at the door and shakes her head. “You owe to her an apology and extra monies for the trouble she goes to for you!! Lucky I do non grab you by the neck over this! What is it yoke you around? Oui?”

The woman takes another step back, giving you a ‘Well, I never!’ look, and says, “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to? I am a regular here, and I have every right to order food from the person who gets paid to take my order and give it to me.”

Something… changes, behind her eyes, and she says, “You want to go back to whatever you were doing and forget this even happened, now.” then waits, as if expecting what was clearly an order to be followed. You feel something tickle at your mind for a brief instant, but nothing else happens. After a moment, the woman’s eyes widen.

Luna smirks back at the woman and taps her left fingertips on the counter, walking along it to close in on the woman again. “I think I speak to somebody that is getting too big of the ego with me. You do non know who I am?” She grimaces slightly at something, but then when the woman’s eyes widen again, Luna sneers and replies. “Non, I want to take my left fist and beat the daylightings out of you for this! I have had very bad time of trying to make the new life in this city! I have many enemy that I never wanted to have! Now I see you come into this place, where I was have my breakfast… you yell like this at such a lovely girl?” Seething, straining not to hit the middle-aged woman, she adds again, “You do non know who I am??”

The woman shakes her head, clearly nervous. “I don’t know you. I just want my coffee. Who are you and why are you threatening me?”

Then it’s there. The shift in her eyes again, and this time you see that just before it happened, she touched the ring with her thumb. “I neither know nor care who you are, or what you want. You will leave me to my business, or I will make you regret that you ever laid eyes upon me.”