#knockknockinginthedark

█ ▌ It had been a long, terrible night for Evuldin.

Running through the streets of the city in the dark, trying his best to escape all matter of dangers coming his way, the injured wolf didn’t really know where to go. He didn’t have anywhere to go. He could return home, hide away until daybreak came and he shrank back into his human form, but he had the sneaking suspicion he may not last that long. He was losing blood fast from that bullet wound in his side, and the blood wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He never should have tried to hunt at the city zoo...

There’s one place...Try to remember the place. Try to remember.

Ulfhediin was a stubborn beast. He would never agree to let his human instinct persuade him, if it didn’t mean his life was on the line. But in his case, he had no choice. Memories flooded in of a place and a street - a building where medical staff healed superhumans, regardless of their morality. It was the only place that would accept him as he was.

Ulfhediin bounded towards the path, hoping the police chasing him would lose track of him as he shot through alleys and into the darkness. He only had to go a bit further. Finally, he spotted a familiar sight: the building was up ahead. He just had to get across the road, through the door, and he would be fine.

█ ▌ Between the beeps of machines and the never-ending chatter of doctors and nurses, it was easy to miss things in the hospital. But over time, it became hard to miss Nikolai’s ‘distractions’. He had been taking far more personal calls than usual, texting someone on his breaks with a smile on his face, asking for nights off to go on ‘dates’. Of course, none of that was a problem - his coworkers were thrilled that he was in a happy relationship, after all.

But then, the rumors began to stir. Someone had apparently seen him at the local strip club - an odd spot for a supposedly taken man. And that wasn’t all. The had seen him there several times, and in the company of a black-haired man...the plot thickens. And though it was nobody’s business, some of the busy bodies at the hospital could not help but stick their noses in his business.

█ ▌ News traveled fast in the realms of demons, angels, and the fair folk. The spirit world has whispered of the various goings-on at a certain church in a certain little town in a certain little corner of Europe. Lochlan heard of it too, and it piqued his very specific interests.

The church had always been an enemy to him. It was the Catholics who ransacked his villages, who burned his people, who called them witches and ran them out of Ireland. Those so-called saints destroyed more than they ever created, and today they were celebrated for it. Celebrated. Once upon a time, this fey beast used to be a beautiful creature. He was a pagan spirit of decadence, passion, and frivolity. Long ago, before the age of Christian folks, he was worshiped as something of a god, joining in his mortals’ festivals and nights of merrymaking and lovemaking...but now, his people were gone. His chosen ones were all dead. And he was a corrupt monster, hardly a shred of his former beautiful self. No mortals were leaving him offerings or summoning him on hot summer nights anymore.

   ❖ “...Some nice work you’ve done here, Narcyzal...”

One of Loch’s long, clawed hands tapped at a bit of long-charred wood, which had now begun to rot from the spring rains. It crumbled at his touch and he wore a smile, his dark lips pulling to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth. It wasn’t often he strayed too far from his own ruins to see the ruins of a church, but this was a special case. This was a church that had fallen to corruption, and the energy here was still strong. No blessings would undo what had been tainted by the incubus and his lover.

Loch’s long, pointed ears twitched. He could hear something...he could sense something. Someone was coming close. They wouldn’t see him, of course, as his tall, gangly form was cloaked with an invisible shroud of magic. But he was more curious about this visitor. Who was coming to see the ruins? And who on earth was carrying such an enormous burden?

█ ▌Dr. Alastair Young was sitting up straight at his desk, or as straight as his misshapen posture would have him sit. He took in a deep breath to steady his nerves, looking for something to do with his hands. He fidgeted with paperwork on his desk, setting it to one side of the table and then the other, then back where it was before. He organized the bottles and antique tools behind him on a small curio cabinet, then polished the glass. And he spent an awful lot of time fussing over which books to place at the head of his desk to show what he had been recently reading. An encyclopedia of medicine plants? Journals from the operating theatre? An updated history of chemistry? In the end, he decided all three had a place in a nice, neat little pile.

He was waiting for a very important client. He wasn’t a medical client looking for a tonic or an examination, but rather a member of the constabulary: a Mr. Dmitriy Miroslav. He was all the talk around town thanks to his good work with solving a recent grizzly homicide, but this time around it seemed as if Alastair was the one expected to assist him. The Scotsman worried himself over how to pronounce his name, even practicing it a few times under his breath, as he waited. And as the clock struck on the hour when his visitor was to arrive, he pushed back his chair to prepare himself to briskly stand and shake his hand as soon as he entered, all the while making sure his shirt and jacket were smooth and his suspenders weren’t even the slightest bit crooked. From outside appearances, Dr. Young was a man who kept every single one of his vibrant orange hairs in place and never left a smudge on his clothing. He was the very picture of a neurotic, but giddy perfectionist.

Finally, he could hear the sounds of steps coming up the staircase. His maid must have let the man in at long last. Alastair sat with a silly little smile on his face, nervous but eager to make a good impression.

And as soon as the door opened and he saw the constable enter, he stood up from his chair just as he had rehearsed...and promptly smacked his foot on one of the legs of his desk, stumbling forward an inch before straightening his back again. Every goddamn time.

█ ▌After all this time, Malachi knew a thing or two about Nikolai’s schedule. He knew that this creature of habit that he called his partner had a specific time that he liked to go shopping, when he liked to do his errands, stops that he liked to make. He almost always left at the same time of day and often returned at the same time, if he was lucky not to be sidetracked by bad weather or hectic shops.

Today, Malachi almost hoped he would be sidetracked. He had an idea, and it was a very strange one, but Dmitriy was the one person he knew might be able to help him figure it out. He wanted to make something very special for Nikolai, although the request would likely make him sound like a madman for letting it even come to his mind. To him, however, it was important.

█ ▌“Can you hear me? Are you there? Blink if you can hear my voice.”

It was the first thing that he heard with his own...ears? Did he have ears? Was he even a person? The machine that Dmitriy had created by his own design didn’t know what to call itself, or even what or who it should be. It simply knew how to process the senses around it: sight, sound, movement.

A pair of robotic green eyes opened, making the sound of clicking metal as they darted from side to side. And finally, after a long moment of calculating the sound of its creator’s voice, it realized something: blink. I can do that. It’s when I close my eyes and open them again.

The robot blinked, just as instructed. And when its eyes opened again, it looked up into an unfamiliar face. A young man with mahogany hair and cinnamon brown eyes, looking expectantly as he waited. Somehow, the collection of human-shaped wires and metal plates knew that this was his creator. Why else would he wait so eagerly to see it open its eyes?

The robot blinked again, moving its fingers with experimental clicks. This was the first time it had tried to move, to look around, to make a sound. Realizing that it had a mouth to speak similarly to the man in its vision, the automaton let its metal lips part to exercise the creaking of its jaw.

█ ▌Father Darrow, if he even still deserved to carry that name, had waited until the evening arrived to begin readying himself for a trip he and his demonic lover long awaited. There was no nightlife in this stuffy little village, owned by the church and ever-vigilante of anything too rambunctious. Even the pubs were a sad, sorry excuse for a celebration on their best nights. But Narcyzal knew a place not too far away - somewhere no one would know them or care what they did, where they could go wild and indulge in all the vices that Malachi had been refused in his 20-some years of life.

Magdalene didn’t ask questions as her brother put on a special cologne that night. Malachi made up some excuse, of course, saying that he had some late work to catch up on and that he would likely stay at the church until morning. He had an inkling, just from the look on his twin’s face, that she didn’t believe a word of it. But instead of arguing, Maggie simply sighed to herself and told him to be safe.

Dressed in a well-tailored black and burgundy suit and with his hair finely parted and slicked back, Malachi left his home quietly and walked the few lonely blocks towards Narcyzal’s home, where he pretended to take on the identity of a simple young priest. It was one of the very few places they could enjoy one another’s company without the fear of having observers, but tonight they weren’t staying home. Tonight they were going on a wicked adventure.

█ ▌ With a comb in hand, Malachi swiped a wave of his hair perfectly behind his ear, the rest tied in an elegant red ribbon. Tonight, he was being especially careful with his appearance - he had to look his absolute best and there were no excused for having a hair out of place or a button loose. Sottarfar and Waverly Lithgow were hosting a magnificent masquerade and he and his date were guests of honor. It would be rude not to be at their best, which was why he had gotten a special suit tailored for Nikolai just for this occasion.

Donning his vest and jacket of rich red and black, he checked his tie one last time and slicked up the edges of his brows in a final attempt to make himself as stern and perfect as he could. A black umbrella was held in one hand, which he used to tap on the door of Nikolai’s chambers, announcing his arrival.

    ╳ “Nikolai~ Are you finished dressing yet? How is the suit fitting?”

For this occasion, he had given a fine gift to his butler: a fitting suit with ornamental patterns of deep purple and gold, as well as a mask to put on his face as an homage to his favorite animal. It was a sneaky bit of investigation, but easy enough to do when Nikolai had no idea that the party was happening - until this afternoon when he surprised him with the news and a personal invitation.