#;nolis threads

The reality of the situation was grim. It wasn't just the government that wanted Cove Slidell in custody, it was the gods themselves. The government was bad enough to reckon with, throw in the gods and Nolis knew very well he didn't have any room to disagree with his orders.

In a way, Nolis understood why they everyone was so bent out of shape about Cove. The man, the man from the other world, had killed Daybreak. You really shouldn't just get off scot-free with killing the god of the sun and plunging Creatia into eternal rain showers. That didn't mean that Nolis couldn't admire Cove, though. Killing a god was impressive, no matter how you looked at it.

Still, it was at least a little annoying that Nolis had been tasked to bring this man back and that to do that he had to quite literally travel between dimensions to do it. Which meant going to the Moon Palace and travelling through the portal there. All very official, all very important, all very... bureaucratic.

It goes well enough, though, and Nolis splashes up out of the water alongside the shore of the Gulf of Mexico on the full moon. The water is cold, but he clamors to shore and into the place that he's supposed to be staying the night without a hitch.

Nolis does not leave until the next evening.

When he does, he's donned some slightly less... Obvious apparel. The people of Earth would not be used to his usual dress as the people of Creatia were, so he wears something much more innocuous. A black turtleneck, jeans, black boots and a heavy black trench coat. His gray hair is slicked back, his blue eyes flicking from side to side idly as he walks along the streets.

When he spots the stranger out of the corner of his eyes, he shifts the leather messenger bag on his shoulder and approaches them with silent footsteps. His voice is gravelly, but nice enough in tone.

Nolis lets the creature of unearthly origin speak his mind. There is much to consider in what he says, actually. Yes, Nolis is well aware that there are other planets in Creatia's own universe that hold life outside of creatians. It would only make sense that Earth's universe would be much the same.

Still, as far as Nolis is aware (and he is aware of much), there isn't anyone on Creatia trying to conquer it. Quite possibly because Creatia itself has very nearly destroyed itself. Earth was on a similar path in many ways, from what Nolis had seen of it. Which begs the question...

There's something wrong with the body.

It's not so much the cause of death that's odd, someone cut the dead man's throat and he bled out. The cause of death brings no mystery. What does bring mystery is the peculiar way that the killer then partially dissected the body-- taking only the lungs and then restitched the body shut.

The dead man, someone travelling through, not a local by any means, was discovered two days after death, and thus Jonathan was called in to see the body off the street. But before the body of the man can be taken in off the street, someone else strides into the crime scene. The man, very tall, gray hair slicked back, frowning, looks from the body to Jonathan, and quirks a brow.

He's not local either, the man who has now appeared with the quirked brow and slight frown on his face. His voice is accented, but the accent is difficult to place, though certainly not American.

Jedetta, laughing again. He's always, always, always laughing. "and... swear what?" He's faintly aware that he hears someone else approaching. He doesn't tense, however, only smiles wider. "hark, the surgeon approaches."

He'd recognize his footfalls anywhere.

The Surgeon appears then, out of the tree line, carrying the same doctoring bag he had before when he approached Kes, all the way back on earth. "gods won't help him." He says, flatly, when he gets close enough to speak without raising his voice. "i will. put him down."

The resistance against the pulling lasts only a moment. If nothing else, The Surgeon knows his place. Teeth lock together, bare out at Mikala, but do not lash out. One does not bite the hand that feeds, after all, unless that same one knows a better food source. As of now, there is none better than the witch that forces him to his knees and already has desire curling up in the pit of his stomach.

His gaze tilts up even as he's pulled closer, his cheeks flushing at his proximity, at the look he's being given. His chin raises, just enough to expose more of his throat under the collar of his turtleneck.

His voice is low, but it understands. It knows. Jedetta was not shooting in the dark.

Dressed not in his uniform, Nolis could be anyone else. Any man, and human for that matter. But he wasn't. There was more to him than that, just as there was more to Howard, he was quite sure. Nolis didn't know everything about him, didn't feel the need to know everything. His assignment was clear, and Howard would help him achieve his goal.

Nothing more to note, really.

The man does not seem threatened by the fact that Nolis has been following him, rather relentlessly at that, and Nolis finds that curious enough to keep mental note of. Something unseen seemed to rest underneath what Nolis could see of him, especially now that they were face to face.

Mirroring Howard, its own head tilts to the side. It stares for a moment before it speaks.

"cove slidell."

The nose of his mask draws gently up from her shoulder, caresses against his neck. The Surgeon leans closer to her, letting her hear the heavy breath exhaled through the protective mask. It is as excited as he is, it remains in its uniform, pressed against her, coat only partially unbuttoned-- just enough to free his cock and get it inside him.

"impatient." It repeats the word, voice buzzy and muffled, but there is still a certain curiosity that comes through in its tone. A gloved hand reaches upwards, grabbing one of her breasts tight over her shirt. The other hand is tight on his hip, its own body draped over her as he slowly pulls his hips back, then presses just as slowly forward. "think you're speaking of yourself."