It is about 60F(15C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Hawthorn and Sidney/span

A member of staff enters, quickly whispering something in Sebastian’s ear. Sebastian listens, nods, then excuses himself from the others. “If you’ll please wait here, I’ll be back shortly. Please, have a seat and feel free to order.”

It’s with the thundering ruckus and roar of a bike’s engine that a new visitor to the restaurant comes riding up on Madison Avenue, though not as the one doing the driving. That’s something their state of dress wouldn’t really allow for, where instead this individual relies on their lackeys – letting one do the driving of that custom bike of hers, while the lady sits behind him in a lazy amazon. If you wonder who that would be, the answer is rather simple:

It’s the Leader of the Sons, you know her well. And she’s finally here, to kick some tail.

Entrance is claimed as she marches in on her Dr. Martens, with those in tow being thanked and dismissed to loiter around and find a table to occupy while keeping watch on the situations. First things on the agenda now that she’s indoors are to fix the hair up some, a hairclip quickly re-fastened to fashion her hair back up a bun. Messy-chic is the style of today. “.. What’s up?” Selene asks to those around, after her review of the surroundings. But she’s fashionably late, a thing the lass must be good at, as it isn’t the first time that this happens. Then again, it could all be by design. Which leaves her stranded in the lobby, which others explore away.

Repost. Nobody seemed to be looking north so that was pointless.

Just as Sebastian/span is about to leave, Selene walks in. The man stop, offering her a deferent and polite bow, welcoming her.

Sebastian says “Welcome! “

Yukino gives the room a little glance, and then follows that with a small nod. “One might say sir Fairchild has done very impressive work, it seems.”

Propriety and manners aren’t the lass’ strongest suit, and who’s to blame her; She walks with care-free confidence, with rebellious air, and with the kind of grace that comes to those who prefer chunky ‘Martens’ platform soles over stiletto-thin heels. Devil-may-care given a female form. “.. Here I thought you’d forget your own opener. Almost went back to my office..” Selene chats, having paused in her destinationless traveling to offer Sebastian a small nod and smile, “.. and I haven’t long before I’m due having to head back out. But I gotta see that menu you’ve been hyping up, at the very least.”

“Certainly smells and looks like money.” Axle affirms, lingering between Yukino and Maeve. “Fits pretty well. You know how to charge em, that’s for sure.” He nods to the nearest menu.

Sebastian says “Indeed! “

“One of your most expensive dishes, well, I’d buy about six and have my apartment’s monthly.” Axle muses, smirking as he studies the price.

Axle says “Well, it and some.“

Sebastian ushers the group over to a table, which is preset perfectly, with napkins, utensils, and other necessities.

“One might have to admit that she has not enjoyed many Italian establishments, perhaps.” Yukino says, her eyes finding one of the menus when Selene mentions the food. Her eyes briefly skim over it and her heads make a tender right-tilt. “One might be… a little lost.” She admits, no recognition showing in her eyes.

Sebastian mention to Axle. “We have an exclusive, upstairs dining room which has a more expensive menu.”

Sebastian looks Axle up-and-down briefly. Some other guests eye Axle out of the corner of their eyes.

“You mean this is the non expensive one?” Axle says, striding to the table.”

Axle is still apparently, carrying the cooler, so he sets that down beside him as he sits.

Sebastian mentions to Selene. “You look lovely, Miss Campbell.”

Yukino moves to settle in by one of the tables. She smiles fainty. “If it might be alright to offer, might there be anything sir Axle, miss Selene or miss Pierce might enjoy having, perhaps?”

It takes her half a minute of idle meandering before Selene comes to join some of the familiar faces she finds here, such as Axle, Maeve, and Yukino. To the first two, she offers a sheepish smile and a quick remark, “.. Neither of you two change after the op, earlier?” A sigh, a glance down her own person, before the small shoulders shift up and down. She reaches for a menu, and quickly lets the eyebrows do the talking. “Ugh.. I feared as much.”

Out comes a phone. The woman doesn’t speak a lick of Italian, so some handy Googling will suffice to try inform herself on some of the options. While that is being handled, the baby-blues shift aside when compliments are thrown her way, and a thank-you is given by means of a smile. “I do my best, Seb.” A wink, before those eyes skim over him again. And she can’t help but remark, again with an eyebrow arcing up, “You look.. a little rough for wear, yourself.. Didn’t have time to get the clothes washed, or..?”

Paying a blatantly nothing in attention to the eye up from the other customers and Sebastian, Axle searches the menu with a shrug. “Well… I’m not too sure what any of this is.” He admits, looking over to Yukino. “You probably got a better guess than I do.”

Sebastian appears to be covered in some kitchen activities. “My apologies. I have been quite busy in the kitchen.”

Sebastian then takes a menu, going over each item for his guests. “Please, allow me.”

When Axle tells her she might know better, Yukino gives Axle a brief stare, until she slowly blinks. “One might say…” She glances at the menu. “…one might have wandered into Yomi-no-Kuni…” She looks up at Axle again. “…and might have… forgotten how to read, it seems.”

Maeve deadpans, “Seems like a normal menu to me.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who hasn’t an idea what pretty much.. anything is. All I know is ‘pollo’.” Selene then continues, chuckling at Axle’s remark. She finds Yukino next, with a light, one-shoulder shrug offering part of her answer to an earlier offer. “I’m okay.. I’ll nick a piece off a plate or two. I forgot what it was Seb was talking up earlier.. I think it was that saltim-something. If you’re going to try something, I’d suggest that.”

A brief pause, as if some serious info is about to drop. “It looked straight gas when I Googled that.”

Sebastian says “The ribollita this evening is a Tuscan bread soup, though calling it a soup undersells it considerably. It is built overnight from cavolo nero, white cannellini beans, and day-old bread that has fully absorbed into the body of the dish. By the time it reaches you it is closer to a stew than anything else, finished with a thread of our house olive oil across the surface.“

Sebastian becomes more animated as he describes the dishes.

Yukino tils her head when she hears Maeve’s say something and then tries, though a Japanese accent becomes heavy on her words even as she slowly tries to construct them. “It is a very difficult menu.”

Axle stares blankly at Sebastian. “I won’t lie to you Seb. I don’t got a clue what you just said. But…” He waves a hand. “I’ll trust the host.”

Sebastian continues, really becoming enthusiastic, his passion overtaking his usual reserved demeanor. “The cacio e pepe is our tonnarelli, cut in-house. The sauce is nothing more than aged Pecorino Romano and coarse black pepper brought together with the pasta water, there is no cream, no butter, nothing added. The technique is the dish. We pull the pasta from the water thirty seconds early and finish it in the pan, so the starch does the work the cream would do elsewhere. It is a deceptively simple plate that requires a great deal of precision to get right.”

Sebastian smiles, animated, gesturing. “The saltimbocca is a Roman classic. Vitello, very thin veal, topped with a single fresh sage leaf and prosciutto di Parma, cooked until the prosciutto crisps at the edges. The pan is deglazed with white wine and reduced until it glazes the plate. It arrives flat, not folded, which matters for how the prosciutto holds its texture. The sage is brief on the palate, it arrives mid-bite and then retreats.”

Sebastian appears to really be passionate about the food.

Axle leans over to Maeve.

Yukino smiles faintly Sebastian and then makes a small dip of her one. “One finds herself grateful and honored by sir Fairchild for explaining, it seems.”

There’s almost a sense of victory dawning on the lass’ face, as those ears of Selene catch one word they recognize amidst that cocktail of Italian jargon. Parma. She pretty much echoes the word, that glad and victorious she must feel finally anchoring in to all that passionated talk about food. “.. Isn’t the whole idea of parma that it’s almost always served, like.. thin as a f–” Language. She catches herself from slipping out her usual type of lingo just in time. “.. thin as a dragonfly’s wings?”

Sebastian says “Indeed! “

Sebastian continues! “The cacciatora is half a chicken, braised low and slow in tomato, olive, caper, and anchovy. By the time it is finished, the sauce is no longer identifiable by its individual components, the anchovy in particular disappears entirely, but it is present in everything. The bones yield without any resistance. It is the kind of dish that takes several hours to make and roughly twenty minutes to eat, and that is precisely as it should be.”

Sebastian says “And finally! The bistecca is a thick-cut beef, cooked on a cast iron that has been heating since service began. We rest it considerably longer than most kitchens would. It arrives sliced across the grain, the crust charred and the interior rosso where it should be rosso. Sale grosso on the surface, rendered fat settled to the edges.“

Maeve says “Ax, just … get the big slab of meat.“

Axle frowns at Maeve as he hears her response, eyes moving back to Sebastian as he continues listening.

looks over the group as if Sebastian just finished delivering a perfect performance of Shakespeare. “Any questions?”

Raising a gloved hand, Axle nods. “Whats your pick, as the boss. I don’t know a thing. About, Italian stuff or money dishes.”

A look to the left. A look to the right. Unspoken questions evident. “.. which of those words described the edible things?” Selene opts to ask, unapologetically sheepish her expressions. They shift a little as amidst the other people drifting about, a single individual is sighted that stands out a bit. That being Albert. “Oh. Albert’s come to join you, Seb.” she offers aside, though chances are she needn’t introduce a fellow Fairchild to him.

Maeve glances up at the unfamiliar face, then sighs, and says to the other women, “I like the pasta, it’s overpriced alfredo,” in a way that will probably wound Sebastian’s pride.

The quiet cadence of a cane’s clicking heralds the arrival of the man, despite blending into the cacophonous background of a restaurant’s grand opening. Forks and knives skitter against plates and the swelling din of conversation is enough to drown out even the most obnoxious of noises.

Sebastian seems to be in the midst of regaling those gathered with the details of a tasting menu. While one hand relies on the cane upon which he lightly leans, Albert holds in his other hand an intricate glass filled with an amber liquid, probably something he’s absconded with from another establishment. He takes a slow drink before raising the unfinished drink in Selene’s direction.

“I trust I’ve not missed the party.”

“I recommend the bistecca fi manzo, Mister Axle.” Sebastian turns to Selene. “If you like chicken, I recommend the pollo alla cacciatora, Miss Campbell.”

There’s, sadly, no drink to offer back in a toast. But the mere offer does bring that right to the woman’s attention, straightening up with sudden interest previously absent during the whirlpool of information Sebastian passionately shared with the group. The nearby menu proves ill helpful, but that’s why she’s brought those plus-ones before. The problem is the establishment is bound to be busy, and the woman is another but obvious in a crowd of bodies with her height alone posing a gigantic — oh, the irony — issue. So those escorts of hers are nowhere to be seen.

There’s clear temptation to fish her phone out right away, a real Millennial’s response, though at least this time some voice inside her head cautions her of table manner to keep in mind. Much to her chagrin. Baby-blues swivel on over to find Sebastian. “First off, Seb.. Where’s your drink menu? And please tell me you have something from Italy that isn’t wine.”

“Amaretto. Limoncello. Sambuca.” Selene begins to list off.

Sebastian asks Yukino. “Would you like assistance, Miss Mikage?”

“One might say there is some things that need thinking about, sir Fairchild.” Yukino says, offering an apologetic smile to Sebastian. “There might be something that needs attending very soon, it seems. One might merely suggest to focus on others more, perhaps.” She says, turning to Axle, Selene and Maeve for a moment.

“Probably just wine.” Axle confirms to Selene, shrugging. “Wine is the rich man’s water.”

Maeve sighs, and lets herself be the pretentious rich bitch, placing her order. She does not affet the accent, if anything, she lets the Infernal gravel grind her words, but she does, finally, break the line and… order food.

Dropping his finger onto the menu, Axle nods. “That.” He says confidently. Its obvious he did not, in fact, consider which one to pick.

Sebastian says “The wine is upstairs, in the cellar. It is Italian.“

“Told you.” Axle smirks at Selene.

As he straightens his shirt, Jasper enters the dining room. He walks towards an empty seat at the table and turns to sit down. “Evening,” he greets before he takes a look at the menu.

In comes a quick breath, too, when she’s quick to drift off the topic of drinks. “I’m all for chicken, but.. lowkey.. if that shit isn’t breaded and either deep- or air-fried, you can miss me with that.. unless it’s, like, in a salad.” Class differences on full display here. Here is a woman who’d probably prefer herself a Happy Meal box with nuggets over these exquisite dishes, though whether that is actual preference speaking or moreso that sense of comfort and familiarity oft sought by many a soul. She snickers amusedly at something, turning her head with a swish of messy-chic hair, and considerations make her purse her lips. She acts a bit quiet about it, probably able to keep the volume on the low enough the other Fairchild might not hear it, as she remarks, “.. I could do an Albert and run out to fish for some booze elsewhere.” to Axle.

Additionally, after a comical waggle of the brows, she adds, “.. dude has a cellar upstairs. That is extreme luxury.. Us plebs have to keep ours below ground.” All in good humour from Selene here.

“One might consider the wine, perhaps.” Yukino says, standing up from her place by the table. “But there might be something that needs attending now.” She makes a small dip of her head to the table and then to Sebastian “One might think if the tea might grow cold.”

“You’ll no doubt forgive my late arrival. I’ve only just finished a tour of les plus beaux villages de France. Planes, trains, and automobiles as it were.” He says this with the droll banality of a man who’s probably seen it all before. “If you need any assistance sourcing Italy’s great wines, Sebastian, you’ve only to ask. I’ve run down a lovely thread on a few rare cases of chianti classico gran selezione. Or perhaps you’d prefer a nebbiolo or montepulciano to stand up against your… undoubtedly rich sauces.”

Was there a hint of doubt in his heady baritone? Another sip of the scotch. If one were close enough to the man, they’d smell the distinctly smoked-quartz brine of an Islay.

“Of course, one ought also keep a refined assortment of aperitifs and digestifs if you intend to entertain the sort of quests I expect would prefer the ambiance here, no? I’ve been gone too long,” he explains further to anyone who might be listening, and especially to those who aren’t. “I hardly recognize any of your faces.” The comment about an upstairs cellar draws something that might be close to laughter from the Fairchild, though Albert doesn’t succumb to its whimsy. “A good meal without a drink isn’t a meal at all.”

“If you wanna excuse politeness.” Axle says. “Got something here.” He taps the top of his new cooler companion.

Sebastian says “Indeed, we had a problem with the delivery, unfortunaley.“

Dovie walks in and waves to Sebastian and Albert in particular. “Lovely to see you both, sorry I’m late.”

Sebastian raise a brow at Selene. “Perhaps the Saltimbocca? Mest and cheese.”

Sebastian warmly smile at Albert and Dovie. “Welcome!”

Axle begins to quietly eat his food, staring in confusion before, sort of rolling the noodles on his fork, and beginning to eat. The discomfort radiating from him is nearly palpable as he keeps looking around, attempting to clumsily mimic the more professional eaters of the Italian dishes than himself.

Dovie hums at Sebastian. “What do you suggest to try?”

“This food is actually good,” Jasper pauses his eating to comment.

“Oh, nice seeing you again.” Axle nods to Dovie. “This is Mae.” He gestures to Maeve. Then, tapping his fork against the plate, he turns a smile on Sebastian. “Excellent cooking, Seb. Who do you got back there?”

Albert offers Dovie the sort of smile reserved only for the Fairchildren at the sound of her arrival. “What an unexpected surprise, Dove.” He reaches up to remove the mirrored sunglasses covering his cacao eyes, folding them neatly into an inner pocket of his jacket. The man finds himself a seat at the table, leaning his cane nearby as he assesses the menu.

Setting the glass of scotch he’s brought in with him on the table, Albert rests both hands comfortably on the table, one folded neatly over the other. A vicious scar gleams irritably on the back of one hand, a vicious groove carved into the skin with spiderwebbing blemishes matriculating beyond the deeper wound, a veritable school of pain.

As if he, or more likely an assistant, had called ahead, a dish is brought before the Fairchild who’s ordered nothing. He doesn’t offer word of thanks to the help who deliver the meal, and instead busies himself undoing his intricately folded napkin.

Pressing the linen into his lap, Albert looks across the table to catch another of the grand opening’s diners’ eyes. “Do not hesitate to offer Sebastian feedback on his menu. How else is a business to grow?” There’s something lurking beneath his words, wound in between them. Sometimes polite requests are anything but.

“I recommend the saltimbocca alla romana, Miss Fairchild. It is exquisite.” Sebastian turns to Axle. “Only the great Chef Bottura!” Sebastian then glances to Albert.

Dovie smiles at Maeve. “Nice to meet you, Maeve. I’ve heard lovely things about you from Axle.”

The Fairchild grins at Albert. “But of course, Albie. What are you trying?” she wonders to him before nodding at Sebastian. “I’ll try that first.”

Sebastian watches the group eagerly.

Dovie takes a delicate bite from the saltimbocca, sniffing the forkful first. She chews for a few moments, “Mmmm, quite tender,” she offers to Sebastian.

Reaching up to tap his ear, Axle shakes his head. “Pardon me a moment.” He says, rising from the table, plate left unfinished, and strides for the front.

Something pulled the Kingpin aside briefly, with her not just having to tend to her phone but find the Olympians she’s left to fend for their own in this establishment. And like any mother trying to find their kids in the IKEA ball-pit, that takes her a while to do. Sadly, there’s still no drink on her person as she returns to the main dining area, where her chair at least is still unoccupied. But someone else has joined the group, a face unfamiliar by sight, but belonging to a name that carries its reputation. “Aha- That has to be Dovie.” she enthuses on approach back to the table, a smile offered that reaches the cheeks and makes them dimple faintly. “.. we texted briefly. I’m Selene. Good to finally get to meet you.” A pause, to shift her eyes to the third Fairchild, who just before her brief disappearance was probably counted amongst those heads the fellow didn’t recognize due to absence. “.. same goes for you, Albert.” And that brings her rounds to an end, leaving Selene free to look the table over, if not some of the bordering tables. What are people eating. What’s there to examine, if not pilfer from. One option that catches her eyes, but Maeve bet her to reclaiming it.

Maeve slumps in her seat, pupils touched by probably some sort of drug, and she gives a polite, if belated, nod to Dovie. “Lovely to meet you, of course,” she says, giving a tiny smile, though her glance goes northwards. “If he forgets he brought me here…”

Selene OOCly apologizes if targeted emotes were missed. Had a big DC earlier. Figured not everyone might have Newbie on.

Dovie turns to Selene, brightening up again. “Oh! Selene? A pleasure, finally. How are you finding the food?”

Dovie glances up towards the northeast, chuckling towards Maeve. “Oh, I’m sure he won’t forget.”

Sebastian nods to Dovie, smiling. “Chef Bottura went through great lengths.”

“I live with that asshole, he’d forget, just to make me limp home,” Maeve mutters, taking another bite of her pasta, and making a contented sound.

Albert cuts into his bistecca di manzo. Well, that isn’t a fair representation. The fork slips into the meat without resistance, and with the assistance of the sharp edge of the knife it’s soon left in little strips, an almost-azure rouge colouring the steak beneath the outer char. He lifts the meat on the tines of his instrument, watching hemoglobin drip onto what’s slowly pooling upon his plate.

The fork makes its way to his palate, and the blue-rare meat of the once-living animal is consumed. The Fairchild follows it with a heady sip of scotch, mingling the hearty smoke-and-char of the steak with the sea salt spray of scotch. “It’s delicious, Sebastian, though a bottle of hearty red would be a better pairing than what I’ve brought. What’s one of the better selections in your cellar?”

He turns from his address to Sebastian to look over Maeve and Selene, lifting an eyebrow’s arch high over his cacao eyes. “I’m certain it’s a pleasure, Selene. Meeting the Fairchildren always is.”

Sebastian states regrettably. “Unfortunately, we had a delivery problem and our wine was delayed.”

Dovie smiles at Sebastian, “Not to worry, this is quite lovely on its own,” she assures him.

Maeve growls under her breath, “Fucking cockbox,” before throwing her phone into her backpack.

Dovie cuts into her saltimbocca, turning her gaze to Albert. “How have you been, darling Albie? It’s been far too long.” She holds out her left hand, a golden band with a bright glowing gem upon her finger. “I got married,” she remarks, simply.

Out comes a little amused snort, with the same mirth also reaching the bright-blue eyes of Selene that find Albert. “That’s the most Fairchild thing you could’ve said to that.” She makes it somewhat apparent her opinion on the matter’s different. But hey, keeping up appearances and pretense is all part of a dress code diner. A few more words get whispered to that bodyguard who just found her in the dining hall, before they get dismissed, their departure still tracked by the woman as a question or concern remains visibly ‘there’.

Suddenly, it’s stretching time. The lass’ tests just how far that chair of hers can lean back, as legs have to stretch, arms have to stretch, and the woman’s practically fighting off the urge to yawn or groan all the while. A wiggle of the tush to get back into comfort afterwards, and she’s ready ro recline back into the seat in a relaxed, anything-but-proper posture. Lips purse, mulling ensues, before the woman turns her attention to Maeve.

Maeve scoots the cooler toward her, draping a scarred leg over it, and she says, “I am going to turn him into a pincushion. But, later. This food is delightful, Seb.” She’s seething, but quietly. Ever the Pierce, it is.

Sebastian smiles at the group. “Excellent! Please, let me know if you have any questions.”

“A shame about the delivery. You should have called me, I’d have ensured that particular… logistical anomaly… didn’t visit misfortune upon your grand opening. Do let me know if you’ve need to acquire anything in the way of wine or liquor. It is the nature of my business.”

“Too busy by more than half, dearest Dove. I’ve been traveling most recently in France, though before that I spent some time in the middle east, South Africa, and Bolivia. I’ve a trip planned later this year to meet with a new vineyard in Russia, a purveyor of a particular sort of icewine.” His smile isn’t exactly convincing, but he turns to Selene.

“I am the favoured Fairchild amongst Fairchildren, of course.” He doesn’t quite laugh, but there’s a sardonic humour threaded through the spacing between the words, hidden in the valleys and peaks upon which his sonorous voice is carried. Another sip of scotch is sent trickling down Albert’s gullet, a slow river of ethanol. “Married, Dove? I’m sure my invitation is somewhere in a pile of mail I’ve been neglecting for too long. Who is Mr. Dovie?”

“Very busy, I see,” Dovie chuckles, “I’m pleased to hear you’ve been off on so many adventures.” She reaches for a glass of water, taking a delicate sip. “And there was no ceremony, not yet anyway. It was rather spur of the moment – and, well…” There comes a pause, “You’ll have to promise not to get upset,” she remarks, eyeing Albert a moment.

“Really?” comes from Selene, pulled out of the other topic keeping her brain busy to find Albert again. “Funny.. You’d think that’d be Dovie, who people constantly remark missing, who people mention missing seeing at events.. Wouldn’t have known a thing about you if I wasn’t as well-connected as I am.” Up and down her shoulders shift, the shrug one that lacks the effort of actual dismissive, harsh, or bored intent. She re-crosses her legs at the ankles, still claiming quite some real estate under the table while maintaining anything but a straight-backed, proper posture in the chair. When she’s got to talk to Maeve, sat somewhere besides her, it helps not sitting straight, relying only on a neck to turn. One can just turn their body to better face that conversation partner.

“Nobody said murder.” she relays, first, expressions matching the Pierce’s flashed smile. “.. but I sure as shit don’t need some jack-ass stirring shit through our soup just because he vehemently hates anything with Supernatural legacy. From what I’ve heard, there hasn’t been a half-pleasant person in their ranks..”

“Do they?” Dovie asks Selene with a kind chuckle. “That’s far too sweet of them. I hope to get my energy back up for some more events, slowly. I’ve scaled back on some of my businesses. Speaking of, are you running any here in the city, Selene?”

The Fairchild nods in agreement with Selene, telling Maeve. “Rather prefer that the Vigil remain quiet, as it should be.”

Albert offers Dovie another smile, though something roils behind his gaze, “Now, Dove. You know I could never be upset with you.” There remains the unspoken fact that he might yet be upset with someone else. “I look forward to the ceremony, in that case. It will be a family affair.”

A glance towards Sebastian, “With plenty of wine.”

A thumb shifts to run along the wicked scar blemishing his hand as he considers Selene. “Listening is an art, truly.”

Dovie smiles back at Albert, her own genuinely sincere. There’s a clear sense of relief upon her features when Albert confirms not being upset with her. “I’m pleased to hear that Albie. You’ll be invited, of course. We don’t intend on it for awhile yet, but at some point. And well… you already know him,” Another pause. Perhaps hesitation? “Gabriel. Gabriel Hawkins.”

Casey makes a rare public appearance by stepping into the main dining room to look around for familiar faces.

“Don’t think you know them. Evan.” Selene provides to Sebastian, before her eyes spin over to find Dovie. Expressions, finally, lighten up some again. “I do, actually! Turns out I’m opposite of one of yours. I renovated the shit out of that crappy, run-down, product-lacking head shop. Complete revamp.. I had some other plans, but..” There comes a brief pause, which instantly darkens the mood, brings caution to the smile she’d only just conjured up, before continuing, “.. that Hunt fucked it up. I’ve also been trying to get the deed to Nowhere, but.. seems Town Hall is intent on letting it rot in the possession of my predecessor, who hasn’t been in town for almost half a year.” Eyes roll in reserved irritation, but it’s followed right away by a shrug that says ‘fuck it’. “Just feels.. kind of stupid, making another underground speakeasy. We’ve already got a share of bars, and I’d rather try enrich that which is there, or.. you know.. establish something new, authentic.”

Sebastian seems to be completely unresponsive to Albert’s constant mentions of wine, instead, turning to Casey with a big, surprised grin. “Casey! I haven’t seen you since the fae dungeon mishap.”

“.. Oh. Right. It’s opposite of that, uh.. equin.. equinestrian.. centre? What’s the word again?” Selene then remarks, catching herself out on missed info for Dovie and stumbling through the correction.

“Oh fuck me running, I’m out of drugs,” Maeve says, after a few moments pawing through what is both an open and clear backpack. Another text, then she glances back to Selene. “He seems as useless as they always are, Vigil boy. I’m unconcerned. I could turn him into pretty art, but alas. I think Ax might get mad at me for that.”

“He himself might be. But he has now has underlings, agents, influence, and resources.” Selene notes aside, ever the cautious one. (not.)

“My people are better than any Vigilite … Vigil… Village idiot could be,” Maeve settles on, slumping in her seat more as she texts, distracted from her food.

Casey shows brief confusion, then sudden recollection at what Sebastian is talking about, “Oh yeah. That was a long while ago.” the femme lingers by the door longer then she ask someone, “I think I met you when you first opened a different place. What was it called?

Casey shows brief confusion, then sudden recollection at what Sebastian is talking about, “Oh yeah. That was a long while ago.” the femme lingers by the door longer then she ask Sebastian, “I think I met you when you first opened a different place. What was it called?

Dovie beams at Selene. “Oh wonderful! Across from Wild Ride? I’ll have to stop by then sometime,” she looks over to Maeve. “There’s a wonderful store in Highgarden, tons of unusual varieties of drugs.” She waves to the incoming Casey.

“I’ve got my own supplies, my family knows pharmacology,” Maeve says to Dovie, tapping a finger on the back of her phone a few times. “Ax should be bringing me something from home, or I’m locking him out and taking all our cats to bed instead.”

Sebastian raises a brow. “Hm. This is the first restaurant I’ve opened. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m told I have dementia.” Casey is dismissive of Sebastian’s statement like she’s not very surprised that she is the one misremembering and she simply accepts that reality.

Dovie nods at Maeve, “But of course. Still worth taking a look at some point for the novelty, but I’m sure your family is more than well supplied,” she acknowledges, chuckling at the threat to Axel. “If that won’t get him to do the right thing, I don’t know what might then.”

“Gabriel Hawkins,” he says, rolling the name around his palate like a particularly fine sip of liquor. There’s something behind his eyes, in the expression just before he drinks from the scotch he’s brought in from outside, signs be damned. “I think I remember him. Just. I’ll be sure to congratulate Mr. Dovie next time I see the man.” Whether Albert actually recalls or not remains in obfuscation.

A final bite of the meal resting before him, and Albert refolds his napkin, dabbing at either side of his mouth before setting the linen upon his plate.

“He chose to date a Conclavian, he knows precisely what happens when I’m actually upset with him,” Maeve murmurs, reading a text as she speaks. Rude bitch.

Sebastian narrow my eyes at Maeve for a brief moment.

“She makes her own..” Selene remarks, knowingly tapping an index against the side of her nose, with an indicative nudge of the head at Maeve. “.. and pretty cool stuff, I bet. Pierces, you know. I’m ‘boring’ in that regard – Just the usual Sons stuff, molly and G, coke and H, or the kush and haze of BubbleBud’s. That said, we did recently beat the absolute crap out of the Legion, and secured some pure, God-touched Ambrosia we’re refining…” A waggle of eyebrows, a growing smile that’s full of her own anticipation. “It’ll be grand, I’m sure.”

“.. What about you, though? You run a ton of stores, no?” her chat continues with Dovie, posture adjusted to turn her relaxedly-slouching self over to better face this sunkissed sylph of a business mogul. “I was debating some options. Had all the plans for a chop-shop, a garage for bikes.. cars.. tuning.. Perfect spot for the Sons’ trainees and such.. Maybe stick a little walk-in tattoo parlour to the side of it. But then someone else literally just opened up a garage. Other options were a 90s themed disco, and totes with a roller disco rink in there, too, but.. well.. the nightlife is rather dead in town. Plus, now I’ve got Ambrosia to manage, already. There’s that speakeasy idea..” Time to stop listing ideas, and get ready to play the listener.

Dovie’s attention moves back to Albert, a quick glance from her eyes betraying a sense of nerves still underlying the bubbly sociality. “Thank you, Albie,” Dovie offers to Albert. “It would mean truly so much to me for you two to get along after-” she pauses, and back-tracks to repeat. “It would just make me so pleased for you two to.”

Her gaze moves to Selene and then to Maeve. “Do you have a storefront? I’d be curious to try your goods,” she offers, nodding to Selene after. “Oh yes, quite a few, though I’ve scaled back some to focus on the Wild Bloom adjacent ones. I do really love Highgate Coffee in particular, the gardens I’m very proud of. And a garage could be incredibly helpful. There are so many accidents that happen here. All of those ideas sound lovely, really.”

“Twin Stars Orbit, it’s sort of meant to be a cozy little hedonist pit,” Maeve is saying to Dovie as Axle walks in, and she perks up in an instant. “Hi, baby,” she coos, already holding her hand out.

Stepping back in, Axle approaches the table, retaking the vacated seat like he never left. “Sorry about that.” He says, nodding to those present. “Had to handle something.” Then, he hands something over to Maeve.

Maeve rips the top off her straw, head tipped back, and she pours what looks, for all the world, like a pixie stick into her mouth, swallowing with a satisfied little hum.

“It’s always after, isn’t it?” His smile is easy for Dovie, but the Fairchild stands, using his cane in an unconvincing way to bring himself to standing. “Dove, Sebastian. Lovely to see you both, of course. Congratulations on the opening, Sebastian.” His smile for the two is genuinely warm, but drops when he’s not looking at either of them. Albert makes his way from the table towards the exit, cane clicking cadence as he steps out onto the street.

“I’m not opening ‘another’ garage just yet.. With how, you know.. quiet town’s gotten, what we need is variety. Some more spice. Not just.. more of the same. Just real unfortunate someone.. happened.. to come up with the exact same idea, right as about half the planning was done, and I was about to start looking for property.” Selene remarks, and not without a hint of wistfulness to her tone. She keeps her visage bright, positive, and optimistic, but she’s the kind who wears her heart on her sleeve, and her heart is clearly aching a little. “I visit the mall pretty damn often, I love your store there. Sadly, Wild Ride and the others have been in Legion turf for.. months.. And even the mall’s only just been wrested out of their hands.. Hasn’t helped my business there much, either.. Couldn’t even get to host an opening event or the Legion marched in and.. well.. now nobody bothers, or dares, go there.”

Casey eventually pulls herself away from the entrance to get a bit closer to the table. She scans the others, but very few faces register as something she remembers. So the femme targets Sebastian with her next question, “Those fae still wandering about after that? If I remember, the hunt came a few days later.”

“They were here last April.” offers Selene, pulled from one chat and into the other. Though it’s just to provide that tidbit of ‘info’ for Casey.

“It did?” Sebastian holds a hand out for Casey, offering a spot at the table. “Please, come sit. Eat.”

Dovie watches Maeve consuming the goods curiously, “I’ll be sure to find it,” she promises before looking back to Selene. “Oh you mean the Booze Emporium? Quite proud of that one too. I need to see the new stores that have opened at the mall,” she sighs, “And yes the 63rd are a big issue. An issue that is all our issue now,” she bites her lip a moment. “I am hoping the Legion will be driven out of Highgate soon…”

“Least there’s not much to worry about in the terms of their big shots save when they come raiding.” Axle mentions, studying his plate with interest, as if the noodles might really be hiding some secret.

“That one, and the flower store.. Or is Bloomie -not- yours?” Selene replies and asks, before she too has to sigh, roll her eyes, and shake her head. “.. Here’s hoping, too. I’m honestly surprised the Court continues gaining traction, when I’ve not met a -single- member of theirs, or seen them in raids, caught them wandering the streets, or.. see them visit the few events that get hosted. Maybe it’s our competition that is, somehow, making them win.”

“I should be picking up Killgrove, at least, gunning for the Quarter, to ensure it doesn’t get picked up, but we’ll see…” Maeve says, pupils dilated, as she resumes twirling pasta, nibbling.

Dovie shakes her head at Selene. “Alas, it’s not. I thought about buying it at one point, but the rents in the mall have been raising as more tenants move in,” she admits. “Oh, well I’m in the Court. Our presence was quite active in the past, and I am sure there are still some of us around.”

“Oh..I don’t think I’ll stick around. I just wanted to make an appearance and see who I knew.” Casey tells Sebastian with a laziness to her voice. A glance is given to the table and the people then she says to Sebastian, “I hope things go well for you anyways.”

“Around, sure. But active, I.. doubt it..” Selene remarks, shrugging as she looks over to Axle and Maeve. “Either of you got to meet Obadiah, or Teagan, or.. even see them in one of the raids? Run into them with interesting intel on them, or.. you know.. they catch you with intel on you?”

“We’ve been gunning at Bayview.” Axle adds, glancing to Selene. “Good luck with those outer boroughs. I tried touching at them, and… not worth it. Maintaining a presence in Redstone is dangerous for the 63rd as it is for me and mine.”

Sebastian texts something, glancing at Dovie with a smirk.

An eyebrow arcs up. Redstone’s not something she mentioned. “What?” Selene just goes.

“I imagine they’re around,” Dovie remarks to Selene with a nod, though her eyebrow raises at Axle. “Redstone? Always tricky there. A lot of mist.”

“I thoroughly believe the Courtiers only show up when they flock,” Maeve says to Selene, before glancing over to Axle. “My borough, paws off.” She’s absently rubbing against the more textured part of her scarred knee, half paying attention to conversations, at best.

Again, Selene disagrees with a little snort. “Mmmh. Sure.” She doesn’t look to buy it. “.. I know they wake. But if they actually.. do anything..” A shoulder is shrugged. “They dominate three boroughs as of now. Yet I wager nobody here has dealt with them, has seen them, has helped them, has fought alongside them, has been able to.. find them ourselves.. That’s just.. peculiar.”

“No sign of them.” Axle shakes his head. “You were talking about Killgrove. Outer boroughs.” He shrugs. “Nevermind. I’ve been raiding fairly often. Whenever I’m able. Only see Mae, Yukino, you,” He gestures to Selene. “And… well, Seb that one time.”

Jasper says “I better be going. Good night.“

Sebastian shoots a glare at Axle. “Somehow you are all doing raids and things without me, and don’t respond, even when I an trying to look for something to do.”

Turning to Sebastian, Axle eyes him. “I offered to teach you to fight. I’m always on raids and you can join when you like. I hunt on occasion, and you can always ask me to go with you on one. Not seeing whats the problem here.”

“I have eyes keeping watch for valuable intel a lot. Only one I’ve -ever- seen with some potentially on her is Seraphina. And that’s.. very rarely.” remarks Selene next, nodding at Axle and his input. There’s little more to offer than a shake of the head. “.. I’ve my suspicions. But they’re practically impossible to prove.. and I guess we could say ‘well, at least they’re pushing the Legion out’.” That’s that, some positive message is found in the end. Does it satisfy and placate her – No. But it does table the matter for the time being.

“Sera’s also not Court, right? Just Warden, nowadays, no?” Selene then asks, looking around again.

Dovie shakes her head at Selene. “I don’t believe so, unless something has changed,” she hums. “Been awhile since I’ve seen her as well, however.”

“Not sure. We talked about going hunting some time.” Axle tells Selene. “Can’t say she ever reached out. Can’t say I did. Mostly go into the mists for rescuing people now with the Rings picking up.”

Maeve scrunches her nose with visible disgust at the name of the other angel, and she says, “Since Thomas pulled his crap, she’s been pretty withdrawn, I think.”

Dovie raises an eyebrow at Maeve. “Oh? Do tell.”

“She’s been rather withdraw since I first saw her in the cinema.” Selene confesses, looking around those here. “.. probably nothing like how she was before December, though.”

Reaching over, Axle lays a gloved hand on Maeve’s shoulder.

“He’s been functionally gone, too, at least the past two weeks…” Maeve adds, slurping her last bite. “Good, keeps me from degloving things that shouldn’t meet a knife,” she mutters darkly, though she soothes as Axle’s hand falls on her shoulder.

Dovie nods at Maeve, “Ah, I see. Well they’ve been together quite a long time, I thought you meant something happened, or something.”

“Additionally, Thomas thinks all women should show their body to men whenever they wish for it, that they have no real worth other than being eye-candy and obeying instructions and orders.. You know, if you want to work for them, be ready to never get to wear underwear because he wants to look up your skirt at any notice..” Selene supplies in turn, once Maeve has shared her share, and the Kingpin can take the place of gossip-sharer. “.. so Teagan and Sera got upset by it, grossed-out, and had him sex-changed via a ritual. Sadly, it did little to educate him on the struggles or the plights of being a woman, or just. .the whole ‘being a woman’ to begin with, as he paraded around like a desperate cheerleader wanting attention.”

Sebastian says “…so that’s what happened…“

Turning a bit to Sebastian, Axle lowers his voice. “Temples running a raid tomorrow. Welcome to show up and help me out if you’d like. Though, not sure as it wouldn’t come to you and me going at it. In which case… well, sorry in advance.”

“Like a scrotum, that is it in a nutshell.” Selene remarks to Sebastian with a nod.

Dovie shakes her head with a sigh, nodding at Selene. “Ah, I see… well yes, that… hm, that lesson didn’t seem to take, I suppose.”

nods to Axle. “I’ll try to make it.” Sebastian tells the group. “So. When I returned, I met Thomas, but didn’t know he was… a she.”

Sebastian says “Some six foot five amazon started hitting on me. It was quite strange. She was acting stereotypically stupid.“

“Couldn’t colour me surprised..” remarks Selene, back over to Dovie, a wry smile on the lips. “.. I basically won him a borough, sacrificing hours of blood, sweat, precious Fae-touched acorns, and efforts of my Sons, and he couldn’t even muster a nod, a thank-you, or a smile. Guy’s just..” No words. Let those shoulders speak, again, and what they say is said through a shrug.

“Mae introduced us.” Axle gives his contribution. “First time I met Selene in person too. Tina, was it? Seemed real… well, I felt like I was being stripped by eyes.”

“He also claimed to be single to try and get other people to sleep with him, despite Sera living with him,” Maeve says, fingers brushing the handle of her athame, briefly.

Sebastian says “I once saw him knock someone out and kidnap them with a word.“

Dovie nods at Selene. “Well Seraphina is quite better off without him, then I’d say.” She raises an eyebrow at Maeve, “Really?”

Maeve sucks her teeth, and says, quietly, “Yeah, said she left him, then neglected to clarify it was revoked, or anything.”

“No good deed goes unpunished in New Haven.” Selene adds, almost conclusively, as she feels something buzzing. It’s her phone, pulled out of the neckline area of her dress for a quick peek. Looks like her time is up, already having overstayed her planned stay, and now looking all the more annoyed realizing the backlog she’s built up. Eyes shift away from the table, to find some of the Olympians hovering around the establishment, gesture at them from afar. Get them prepped. Then, to Sebastian, she smiles lightly. “That’s hypnotism for you.. I debated using it on you, but.. that’d have been beyond the point that had to be made.”

She gets up from her chair, an effort not endured without a croak, a groan, a sigh. “.. either way, it’s been a pleasure. But I’ve heaps of work to catch up on, and I’ve already dedicated too much of my time to socializing, and the Temple, today.” To the restaurant owner, another nod is given. “.. Hope you’ll enjoy the business here. You’ve made quite an impressive menu.”

Dovie waves to Selene. “A pleasure to finally meet you! Do keep me updated on your businesses too.”

Sebastian says “Don’t forget the upstairs menu.“

Sebastian flashes a warm smile at Selene.

“Appreciate that, by the by.” Axle offers to Selene, inclining his head. “Stay safe out there.”

Maeve leans softly into Axle, waving to Selene as she goes, and she asks him, “Did you feed the cats?”

“Will do. Whenever Northview’s freed of those Legion hands, feel free to swing by BubbleBud’s some time, though.. I get most people here couldn’t care two pisses and a penny for the product there.” Selene chimes back to Dovie, before Axle, Maeve, and Sebastian are all given their last farewells. And no, not the forever farewells, that is. But then the ever-busy mobster bee is buzzing off, to keep New Haven’s nightlife in check from the luxury of her office.

“Fed. Pet. And gave Fatass a belly rub.” Axle confirms. “Cyclops got some milk, and Sketchy tried to hitchhike on my way out.”

Sebastian says “Alright. If you’ll excuse me, I mist be going. Din’t forget to check out the private loft, if you have time.“

Sebastian waves to the group.

Maeve waves back.

Dovie waves to Sebastian. “Congratulations!”