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*thinks about that. Doesn't really have a real form, being a spirit, so being visible at all requires magic and illusion. Fades into a breath of wind, the closest thing to a true form he has. Blows through Fergus's hair with a whisper*
Ariel is too magnificent for such sharp eyes. One should sooner look at the sun! ^^
Knightly Failure's avatar

Friend

*Will accept the coffee from Ianto and hold it in her hands, warming up, smiling over it.* Smells awesome. heart *Blows on it, to cool it off slightly, and looks over and grins slightly at the pack of wafers. Will happily nom upon them.* Yeah, you're totally spoiling me now. Coffee and treats. What'll I do.

*Will let Fergus lean on her and offer him some of her coffee. Can tell he knows that she's hiding some of her cards, and sighs, and will briefly butt heads with him.* Have a sip, Fergus.

*Continues to nom on the wafers and glances back at Ianto.* So...>> Who's up for pancakes.
More Than Eye Candy's avatar

Dapper Humorist

Son of Iarann Fuil

*and coffee? Perks up. Wonders if Ianto will let him have coffee again. Looks up beseechingly at the man with puppy dog eyes* ;_____; *please don't fall for this, Ianto. Fergus really shouldn't have sugar or caffeine of any kind. Do you really want to deal with a moody AND hyper teen?*

*But if you're hyper can you also be moody? THEN STOP GIVING HIM PUPPY EYES IANTO IS TOO NICE TO TURN YOU DOWN.* Would you...like something? neutral *Well luckily Phete is the one instigating the hyperness now.*

Eating them would be a start. *Shakes his head at Phete.* But you've been feeding a small army and I'm giving you a snack. Hardly seems fair. *And then she's offering pancakes even though she's hardly awake. Oh Phete, you're quiet admirable in your own way.*
*and now his hair is being messed with again. Just sighs out of both exasperation and amusement* What with you guys and my hair....?
*then blinks as he connects the name with the wind and face-palms* You're a spirit. No, the spirit from The Tempest. What's next? Puck? ._______.

*perks and is about to take the coffee from Phete when he suddenly falls asleep against Phete's shoulder. And it's not a natural sleep either, but don't worry. It's not any harm to him...*
*Enters the warehouse from the same door he used to get out of it earlier that day. Casually removes his coat and tosses it onto a chair, having removed his scarf and gloves earlier because it's Florida, dammit.*

*Also tosses an interesting looking set of keys onto the same table as the map. Took the liberty of procuring a vehicle. The airport's quite a distance away, there is no way they'd be able to walk that distance. Of course he didn't escape unscathed from his little adventure, but that's never stopped him before. Considerably less of a set of wounds than one would expect when stealing an armoured vehicle from an obviously-gone-mad pair of government "scientists" at the fringe of a quarantined area... Scratch across the cheek, a few on his hands, and a noticeably deeper gash running perpendicular to his right collarbone that luckily missed any major blood vessels. Probably only noticeable because that part of his shirt is bloody and he hardly ever buttons any shirt all the way when not wearing a tie. In fact the blade didn't even cut the fabric, his collar was that open at the time. Lucky break, even though that much blood is going to be impossible to get out.*
*and if anyone is wondering why Fergus fell asleep, it's cause of these guys. Or more specifically, an much taller and healthier (and less ugly) looking hob that comes out of the shadows. Gives a small wave and waits for the shouts, though it really does hope no one will yell* Greetings... > >;
More Than Eye Candy's avatar

Dapper Humorist

Dying From Iron
*and if anyone is wondering why Fergus fell asleep, it's cause of these guys. Or more specifically, an much taller and healthier (and less ugly) looking hob that comes out of the shadows. Gives a small wave and waits for the shouts, though it really does hope no one will yell* Greetings... > >;

*Shifts forward from his sitting position defensivly, looking for where that crowbar went.* What do you want? confused

*Catches Sherlock tossing a pair of keys on the table and some of his wounds. Really starts to wish Jack was here and not out scavenging more weapons.* ... Are you alright?
Knightly Failure's avatar

Friend

((I realized that after. Whoooops~ I edited.))

*Smiles.* But you give me coffee. Coffee is what keeps me going. *Sheepish face.* Mild coffee addict, here.

*But uh. There's Sherlock, looking slightly wounded with keys.* Um...what do those go to? *Then Fergus falls asleep on her and all but glares at the hobgoblin that appears.* ...right. *Grips at the knife, tightly.* This had better be a talking and not taking thing.

*Puts the coffee down and slides up against the wall to standing, so as not to simply drop Fergus to the floor.*
*Wanders through the door into the occupied warehouse, her attention focused intently on the book in her hands. Seems to be scribbling something in it, her webbed fingers grasping the sketching pencil like a Neanderthal. The book itself is disturbing, at best, and downright eldritch at worst. The binding is of a most peculiar leather, the pages appear to be of a strange, tattered pink cloth, and the words inside are in a crimson ink.*

Shoggoth, shoggoth, shoggoth... *Suddenly reaches up to brush her hair aside to scratch her neck. The flesh of it appears to be mottled, with several distinct horizontal creases. Immediately afterwards, she carefully rearranges her hair to conceal her neck, before realizing she's no longer in the cold halls of Miskatonic University. Drops the pencil in favor of the revolver tucked in a fold of her dress at the sight of the hob. The book slips from her grasp and falls to the floor with a loud thump, its pages making an odd flapping noise as they flip from a non-existent wind.*
*shuffles its clawed feet as it sticks close to the shadows, doesn't understand why the Elder members couldn't do this... Oh, wait. Yes, it can. It can actually talk in almost complete sentences. Sighs and looks at Ianto from afar, really hopes no more Iron will come into play* To talk. And plan. The Boy should not be here. He is to be protected. We, under the service of Lord Iarann Fuil, offer our claws and teeth and venom to helping you so to keep Fergus safe. So... What is your plan?
*one of the few that calls him by the name the boy prefers*

*glances at Sherlock and then is very glad that it's the one here. One of the older generations might have been tempted to eat him since they still have a taste for those with iron-based blood* > >; You might... Want to fix your hurts. Soon. Quick. Now.

*pales at hearing Phete and looks down before nodding* No taking unless Fergus is not safe with you. Came to talk, but can't with the Boy awake. He can't know or he might seek out for answers and then the Seelie or Unseelie will catch him and make him sharp and twisted... Or if there is mercy, they will kill him.

*stiffens at the sight of Marion and bares its teeth. She is not natural. Shrinks back into the shadows, but is still there to talk to*
*Answers both questions at once.* Perfectly fine. I thought I'd get my hands on one of the armoured vans from that quarantine area for when the time comes to vacate this interesting little nightmare. *Yes, it hurts, yes, it's restricting the movement of his whole arm, yes he just stole an armoured car. On his own, no less. But does he mind and/or care? Nope.*

*Glances at the hobbie, lifts a brow, and stays quiet. Scrutinizing, classifying. What manner of man or beast is this, and what can he discern and divulge about it? ... Interesting. Not going to say anything for a short while, there's one small mercy.*

*Throws another glance at Marion. Webbed fingers, mottled skin, mention of a Shoggoth and a very intriguing looking book. Lovecraftian. Knows a scant bit of the lore due to a recent case involving a fan of his work. Because I still do love that Holmes vs Cthulhu game and wish there was a modern version with Cumberbatch and Freeman.*
More Than Eye Candy's avatar

Dapper Humorist

*Okay Ianto, Jack's gone and these Hobglobins want to strike a deal. You have to remember that you're a part of Torchwood now, a team member that Jack trusts, not just the tea boy. You're more than that.*

*Glances at the manipulator on his wrist. It's a sign of Jack's trust. You can do this.* Alright....*Swallows shakily, standing up straight. When he does there's an odd air of confidence that might not have clearly been there before, even a deeper edge to his voice.* Phete, put the knife away, these are officially peaceful negotiations. neutral

*Glances briefly at Marion, used to aliens at this point so it's only her gun that scares him.* You too. The enemy is outside these walls, not in here. *Heart is beating a million miles a second. Really hopes this works. Really hopes he gets taken seriously, or else this whole situation could get nasty quick.*

*Steps forward, heading towards the map spread out on a table. Pauses slightly, scrutinizing the plan and remembering all of the details Jack told him. Holds up the pair of keys Sherlock dropped and nods his approval.* Thank you. *He really should get some one to look at that wound...but not him. Not now.*

*Narrows his eyes a little at the hobglobin in the shadows.* If you want to know then you're going to have to trust us too. Can't tell you if you're going to hide in the dark.

Knightly Failure's avatar

Friend

*Thumbs up for Holmes.* Cool beans, bro.

*Sort of...stares at Marion, even if she doesn't mean to. Lovecraftian stuff is kind of new.* O.o; Um. 'lo there. *But head snaps towards Ianto and nods, and does as he asks, and puts the knife away.* Right. No violence from me. *Will carefully move Fergus so she can keep an eye on him, and stay near him, but ready to rush to Ianto's side if he needs her to. Can totally be a tough girl. Grrr?*

Good. >> And do send your Lord my regards. :< *Will wait for Ianto, cause he TOTALLY just turned Team Leader. GO IANTO GOOOOO!*
*Scrutinizes the creature as it disappears into the shadows. Despite the polarization of her protective lenses, she can still feel it's clearly there, but hiding. Whether it's from the the revolver in her hands or the book at her feet, she can't be sure. But either one indicates that this creature can be hurt-- whether by worldly means or otherwise. Will keep that knowledge in mind.*

*After a brief moment, stoops to snatch the book quickly in her arms, apparently struggling with the book's unusual weight for its size. Glances between the remaining inhabitants. There's a woman and a young man against a wall, the young man apparently passed out-- Perhaps from some sort of dark magic. Two gentlemen, one in a vest and tie, and the other in a style of dress that she's only seen in photographs. The one in the vest tells her to put her weapon away.*

... *Does so, but not without hesitation as she continues to glance at the shadow the Hobgoblin is hiding in.* What enemy could possibly be so monstrous as to make that wretched thing our ally? *Immediately regrets asking. Her experience with these things has taught her that there's always a bigger monster.*
... Only the collective forces of the "God of Fear". *Pipes up from the other side of the room. Went to go grab a few more first aid kits from around the park, carrying one in his hands at the moment.*

*And will take one look at Sherlock, sigh, and nod to a chair.* Sit. What'd you do this time? *Only one that can get him to follow directions like that, and even then there's only a 25% chance that he does.* And shirt off while you're at it, it'll be easier to mend that way.

*No, does not register this turn of events as strange. Hobgoblins and whatever's going on with Marion fit in perfectly with what's gone on so far. Nor does he realize how... interesting that last small order he gave his flatmate was. Slightly oblivious John is slightly oblivious to some things.*

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