(1938-10-03) A Brother's Concern
Details for A Brother's Concern
Summary: When Mikhale finds out that his brother has left for Berlin to find the wand that caused Rhyeline's curse, he is none too pleased.
Date: Thursday, October 03, 1938
Location: North Verdic Ally and Steele Travel, London
Related: Leaving for Berlin in the Morning
Characters
AstoriaMikhaleRhyeline

North Verdic Alley

Often considered part of Diagon Alley by the masses, Craeft Alley looks much the same as Diagon proper, with shops of all sizes often leaning against each other or leaning out over the walkway. Here in the Northern end of the alley, the differences are a little more noticeable however. The whole alley here is a little more cramped, the buildings pushed together all the harder and the walkway itself is smaller. It's as if a charm to increase the space here wore out years ago. The atmosphere is still bright and cheery, however.


The peace of the fall night is disturbed by a silent whistle. Whistle of the tall, dark, incredibly handsome man. Sooo handsome, that he himself, walking down the street, can't do anything, but look at the windows of shops, elegantly brushing with his hand through the dark curls and offering himself a smile full of pride.
After a few more whistles joyful bark breaks the night's peace and a Catahoula cuddles up near Mikhale's legs, wagging his tale fiercely.
"Aaaah… Precator!" drawls Mikhale pleased and kneels near his dog, giving a scratch behing his ear. "You were not so happy in Russia. You were not…" smirks the man, tossing another glance at his perfect imagine in the window.

Under the dark, starfilled sky, Rhyeline makes her way up the road, hugging a book to her chest. At the sound of a dog's bark, the little mouse freezes, her eyes growing wide. Despite all of Mikhale's past efforts to help her feel calm around his dog, the girl is still rather nervous around dogs- especially such a large dog. She stands perfectly still, heart pounding, hoping that neither the man nor the dog will notice her.

A sharp CRACK echoes in the alley before a woman, dressed in long robes, swirls into view behind the wall of a business. She lowers her wand, a pale, thin object, and pockets it briskly. Moments later she steps out beneath a light, revealing the rest of her features. Astoria takes several steps down the alley before espying Mikhale and his dog. She smirks for a moment, but the expression quickly fades into a more polite, practiced smile.

Crack. Where's the crack? I need to find that crack. What was it? Where was it? What is happening? Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Precator just goes wild. He minces haughtily through the road, just to check what is happening in his territory.
Mikhale stands up, giving a wink for his own image, before following Precator with his dark gaze. First of all the dog approaches freezed sculpture. Little young woman, whose appearance makes Mikhale's self-confident and narcissist smirk grow more widely.
He starts pacing near that woman, whose legs intrests Precator's nose. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. And the last time sniff, before the dog, waggling his tale, almost bounces near another creature in the night.
However, Mikhale's gaze finds itself resting on that little woman. "Awww…" drawls the man. "I thought you two are friends. You didn't gave him a kiss," Mik shrugs. "Now he will be all sad…" Mikhale eyes Rhyeline a few moments before adding in his low sexy voice: "It becomes a habbit. To meet at nights. Are you afraid of the light?" He giggles from his question, before finding another prey of the Precator's nose.
Mikhale whispers: "It looks like, that while I was in Russia, things changed here. Beautiful women are ruling the streets of the night. My lady," he bows for a stranger, offering her the same smile he got.

Rhyeline emits a soft, frightened squeak as Precator bounds over with bone-shaking barks. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hugs the book to her chest even tighter as the dog sniffs at her feet. It isn't until Mikhale speaks that the girl peeks over at him. Biting her lower lip, the little one's brows furrow ever so slightly as she shifts uncomfortably. She remains silent and instead follows Mikhale's gaze towards Astoria.

Astoria watches the dog's progress with keen, sharp eyes that occasionally manage to catch the light and glint. She passes by the lamp and turns to walk in the direction of Mikhale and Rhyeline, and to the former she provides the slightest of curtsies. "Sir," she answers after his greeting, tone formal, clipped, and sharp. She offers him a curved smile that twists her lips every-so-slightly before facing Rhyeline. Her eyebrow arches for a moment, as if in question, before she exchanges a look between the gentleman and the young woman.

Rhyeline emits a soft, frightened squeak as Precator bounds over with bone-shaking barks. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hugs the book to her chest even tighter as the dog sniffs at her feet. It isn't until Mikhale speaks that the girl peeks over at him. Biting her lower lip, the little one's brows furrow ever so slightly as she shifts uncomfortably. She remains silent and instead follows Mikhale's gaze towards Astoria.

Astoria watches the dog's progress with keen, sharp eyes that occasionally manage to catch the light and glint. She passes by the lamp and turns to walk in the direction of Mikhale and Rhyeline, and to the former she provides the slightest of curtsies. "Sir," she answers after his greeting, tone formal, clipped, and sharp. She offers him a curved smile that twists her lips every-so-slightly before facing Rhyeline. Her eyebrow arches for a moment, as if in question, before she exchanges a look between the gentleman and the young woman.

Precator follows Astoria back near the company, waggling his tale without fatigue, sniffing all around. Three people. Three people in one place. Sooo much. Who to choose? Who? Precator sniffs Rhyeline's feet once more, and takes a few rounds around her, before elegantly slipping to sit near Mikhale.
The young man watches both women curiously, enjoying the moment. He stretches, extanding his hands closer near the sky. A small breeze catches the jacket, tossing its laps aside and showing these white shirts and slightly bared strong chest.
"Soo… What brings you out in the night? Desireof adventures?" smirks the man at Rhyeline,before adding: "Oh, where are my manners? Mikhale Abner Issilingor Carrow," proudly announces Mikhale for the stranger, letting his eyebrow curiously jump up in question.

With another little squeak, Rhyeline darts to hide behind Astoria when Precator returns to sniff at the mouse. Biting her lower lip, her cheeks grow rather warm with embaressment as she peeks up at Astoria and around from behind her at Mikhale.

Astoria watches the dog a moment more. After Rhyeline escapes to stand behind her, she wards the animal away with a gentle scratch behind his ears until, like a good companion, he returns to Mikhale's side. A moment later, she turns a little, with a brief smile, so that Rhyeline isn't completely hidden. However, her progress is interrupted when Mikhale introduces himself. "… Mikhale?" she asks, a smile widening across her features. She nearly laughs before saying, "Oh my, is that… /really/ you? Of course, of course it is," in a delightfully cheery tone. It takes a few moments for her expression to resume its normal state. "Forgive me - Astoria Bletchley, and the young woman behind me is Miss Rhyeline Diderot."

Mikhale erupts laughing quite loudly. "Merlin's beard! Astoria Bletchley? Impossible to recognize! Sooo changed," winks Mikhale, making sure that these changes are in good. Very good.
His hand is lowered, so Precator licks the hand, sniffing it a bit, asking attention, but the man offers his attention for the little mouse behind Astoria.
"Oh, I know this little lady behind your back. I know her. And Precator knows her. I was sure, they like each other. But now I see, that my dear Precator fall in love without an answer, you know," giggles Mikhale, taking a scratch of his side coolly. "So, Astoria, how have you been?"
No questions for the little mouse. She is already scared enough, but that still makes a smile dance on Mikhale's lips and sparkling gaze studies the girl.

Rhyeline blinks, looking a bit surprised when it turns out Mikhale and Astoria know each other already. And of course the little mouse knows Mikhale as well. The girl keeps close, hiding behind Astoria for now, content not to be the focus of Mikhale or Precator's attention for the moment.

Astoria baps the dog on the nose when he licks too much, but soon settles for rubbing the bridge between his eyes up to his noggin'. She doesn't pay too much attention to the animal, however, and instead focuses on Mikhale. "Indeed," she answers, to his initial remarks, with a slight smile. A moment later she adds, "Dogs' affections can be fickle. I am sure he will find a new favorite to terrorize eventually." She winks towards Rhyeline. She continues, "Very well, thank you. I returned to London not too long ago from a world tour - though most of it was spent in Germany. I publish most of my work for the Prophet, now. And yourself? I heard strange tidings concerning you while I was abroad, and I see, from your appearance," she smirks and lets her eyes drift from his clothing to his hair, "that they may have an element of truth to them."

A stranger, dark creature with the hood, walks on another side of the road.What can be more interesting than amoving shadowforPrecator? Nothing! And the dog runs straight through the street to meet another person.
"Precator!" Mikhale shouts, making the dog stop and whine in disappointment. He stops waggling his tail and just starts walking around, sniffing and doing another dog business.
"I? I was just in Russia for now," smirks Mikhale at Astoria. "I am glad to know, that you heard about me. I might be famous!" and gis laugh ripples through the street.
Finally Mik shakes his head, letting the sigh out of his throat. "Rhyeline, last time I saw you, you at least were speaking. Though, I lft you with my brother, and it looks like you lost your abilities to please me with your voice…" man grins mishievously "I ponder, what my brother has done to you?" Eyebrow remains curiously raisen.

Rhyeline blinks, remembering something when Astoria and Mikhale begin speaking of time spent in Germany- time spent abroad. And then, Mikhale inquires directly after his brother. Biting her lower lip, she hesitates half a moment before murmuring, "Your- your brother, he- he wasn't able to get ahold of you. But- he wanted me to- to send you after him if- if in a week he did not return."

"Mmm, Russia," Astoria replies, grinning with what is surely irony. She crosses her arms gently over her chest and listens to Mikhale and Rhyeline speak. When it is revealed Thomas may not return her eyebrow arches and her lips part slightly, but she does not speak.

Very slowly. Just incredibly slowly, as a mist in the fall morning, smile fades from the Mikhale's features, listening for desultory speach of the little mouse.
"Woow woow woow. And now, please, say it in english," gestures Mik as he would be patting the air. The man frowns a bit, but curiousity floods his dark gaze. "For some reason I smell trouble. Don't you, Precator?" Woof. Woof. Answers the dog, when he curls up on Mikhale's feet, and puts his head to rest, closing eyes.
Mik shakes his head. "Nah, that little man of suit can't get into trouble…" mumbles Mikhale under his nose. More for himself, than for ladies.

"He… he's gone to Berlin," murmurs Rhyeline, hugging the book she carries even tighter to her chest. "To- to try to get ahold of- of the wand that cast my curse… he thinks that the German magical law enforcement might have it…"

Astoria listens quietly. At the mention of curse, however, she raises her eyebrow again. Attention moves to Mikhale, whom she regards with focused, hawk-like features that narrow. "Do you not know the name of the curse?" she asks, attention flitting back to Rhyeline.

Mikhale rolls his eyes. "What the hell he wants in…"
But the answer is given. It is given and raises some kind of a bit intimidating flames in the dark gaze. The man even makes a sudden step, touching the Precator and waking him up. Poor dog shakes its head and sits straight, curiously observing the situation.
Mik touches the shoulder of Astoria, just to force her move a bit, that he could take a better look at the mouse behind. "Your curse… Is that your curse exists at all or he just ran into Berlin at these times to drown into a huuuge trouble for nothing?"
Man's voice is changed. There is no sweet, elegant, sexy casanova around. Well, he is still incredibly handsome, even when he is angry, but he is just not so… gentle, maybe.
He biteshis lip, frowning even more. Likely, stopping such thoughts as /C'moon… I was avoiding my little bro to keep his reputation in the best shape, but he is trying to follow my footsteps instead?…/ in his throat. So, a bitawkward silent may stand a few seconds,before Mik adds: "And how he is ready to do so,huh?"

Astoria glares when Mikhale touches her shoulder. "Sir, you /forget/ yourself," she warns him, jaw setting while her eyes narrow in annoyance. She steps slightly out of his way, but does not stray far from Rhyeline.

Rhyeline's eyes widen with alarm as Mikhale prowls forward and pushes Astoria out of the way. When blamed for possessing such a curse, the girl looks almost as if Mikhale had given her a small slap. Trying to hide once more behind Astoria, she murmurs faintly, "I didn't ask him to…"

"Ooooh…" drawls the man, following the girl with his intent gaze "Of course. You didn't want it, just /totally/ by accident mentioned him about how…" suddenly he stops, slipping with his gaze from Astoria to Rhyeline. Then, the man waves of Precator to follow. For Precator and Rhyeline. "To my shop. Now. I need to hear each detail. Everything you know. Now…" he points at his shop, letting the wind once more play with his dark leathern jacket.
It looks like the thoughts about brother being in the trouble, and who will be fault according to father, just erases all the manners from usually incredibly genteel Mik. He forgets Astoria, as he forgets his language, mumbling: "Fucking Germany…" in incredibly dissatisfied tone.

Astoria listens to Mikhale quietly, but her expression has not improved. Her posture is stiff, and her eyes gleam while the man turns and strides into the evening. She eventually turns her expression away, towards Rhyeline, whom she regards quietly for a moment. One hand raises, as if gesturing for her to follow, though she raises her eyebrows as if asking a question.

Rhyeline doesn't follow. Instead, at Mikhale's irrate command, the little one's brows furrow and she keeps close to Astoria's side. Peeking up at Astoria, the girl doesn't move when the woman gestures for her to follow.

"Ohh… C'mon… Thomas might be in trouble because of you. And if you won't come, he might remain in trouble. Take your guard with you, if you want," irritated explains Mikhale. He watches that shy and afraid of everything little mouse. That becomes annoying. At first - funny. But now - annoying. The man opens door of his shop and shouts from doorway: "Oh, wait… You didn't ask, so you do not care, whatever happens for your hero… Even if his fate is nowin your hands…" and he vanishes inside. Precator runs after and door closes behind.

Astoria lowers her arm and shoots a glare towards Mikhale. Her eyes gleam again, and the skin on her forehead creases intensely. A moment later, she looks back towards Rhyeline. "He has a deep-rooted concern for his brother," she says softly, "though I worry about his /manners/. It would seem he has grown accustomed to having his way. I would not like to leave you alone with him," she pauses, shrugging once, "but I will not stay if you would rather I leave. It seems a private affair."

Rhyeline tightens her hold on the book which she hugs to her chest. Beneath her furrowed brows her dark gaze remains fixed steadily on Mikhale as he shouts at her. As she stands still and silent as a statue, her manner grows increasingly reserved. Peeking up at Astoria, the girl is silent for a moment longer before murmuring in a low tone, "I would appreciate your presence very much… his concern is misplaced and- perhaps I can alleviate his fear…"

Astoria nods her head. "I do not think you will succeed in calming him," she begins, "as he is particularly intent on protecting his younger brother. Regardless, if you feel it is worth the attempt, I will follow you." She slides her arms into deep, large pockets. "Though I will not abide his shoving, however careful it may be," she adds grumpily.

Rhyeline nods before looking towards 'Steele Travel' with quiet apprehension. At last, the little one sets off, but remains close to Astoria's side.


Steele Travel

As much a home as it is an business, the door to Steele travel is usually closed and locked. A small atrium at the front has a pad of paper and a slot to request an appointment. Otherwise the door is thickly warded and steel reinforced. Once you get past the door however, it's like entering several new worlds all at once. The entrance has a traditional genkan, with the lowered floor and a rack to place ones shoes. Each section is separated by a theme relevant object, like a wall of ferns, a Japanese folding screen or a wall carved in Egyptian hieroglyphs. One corner has a hammock, a sand pit and a floor to ceiling window enchanted to mirror a Caribbean beach. In another area is a fully stocked Japanese tea service. A sectioned off area near the back contains Turkish hookah den. To the back and right is a replica of an Amazonian forest, complete with an enchanted water fixture and a boat that dips slowly in the current. The last area is full of Egyptian motifs and statues. With a large table and chairs allowing for several to be seated comfortably. A cleverly disguised rope pulls down a set of stairs that lead up to the second floor.


Mikhale is sitting near the table in the chair as a King in his throne. One hand rests on the head of Precator, while the dog as a marble sculpture sits beside. Another hand is resting on the table. The chair is turned to the door, not at the table, as he would be waiting for specific people finally to enter, and would like to see them perfectly.
Mikhale is wearing his dark leathern jacket, but his white shirt can be easily seen. Moreover, his strong chest is a little bit bared, letting the pendant on his neck glint in the darker room. All these Egiptian statues around, maps and strange pictures might be frightening a bit in the night's shadows. Though, trembling light tries to warm not just room, but Mikhale's stern mien too.
His legs are crossed, dressed in black leathern trousers, and extended in full length.
When people comes inside, he gestures to take a seat. "So, tell everything. Why he go there, where exactly he goes, what plan he has, what he asked you to send me, and why the hell you let him go, and not told me this before he left?"

Astoria enters first, opening the door with a sharp, firm motion. She steps forward and moves towards a gestured seat. A moment later, she sits. Astoria crosses one leg over the other and continues to watch Mikhale with an intense focus that does not waver.

Rhyeline maintains a calm reserve as she follows Astoria into the shop. With a slow, careful grace, the girl makes her way over to an indicated chair. Mikhale is made to wait, not speaking until she is settled. Lifting her unwavering gaze to him at last, she speaks in a low, quiet tone. "Your brother has gone to Berlin to meet with the wizarding magical law enforcement there to try and procure the wand that cast the curse meant to end Ambassador Troy's life. The reason for this-" Though the little one has spoken with controlled calm, her voice wavers here. Lowering her gaze, she bites her lower lip, before continuing. "Your brother asked permission to court me. I told him that- that at present, his would not be wise. And… now he has set out to- to help the healers in finding a cure… I told him that- that he should be more cautious… that he shouldn't do such things when he knows me so little…"

"Court you?" quick question leaves Mikhale's throat and he raises his hand, as he would be asking for deadly silence. The man stabs his gaze at the Rhyeline. *deadly silence which lasts for like one minute, which could look like ten*

Mikhale rolls his eyes. "And that'swhat happens when you leave brother with a woman. I did not though he was so… not father's boy," finishes Mik, patting Precator. That calms him down. The mouse should be thankful for that dog.
"How long you know each other? Like a week or so? For me it looks like you cursed my brother…" explains the man in dangerously calm tone before continuing "Did he asked our father if he willbe happy about that?.." *the same deadly silence and raised hand,asking for it*

"Tell me more about the curse and how he plans on procuring that wand? You did not tell me how long he is gone?" the tone is still dangerously calm. Dark gaze is obtrusively stabbed to Rhyeline. No reaction at her guard.

"It is not Rhyeline's fault that your brother left, Mikhale," Astoria says, perhaps unperturbed by the silence; her expression is still narrowed, but the awkward intensity of the situation has begun to make her skin prickle. She gently taps a finger on the table. "She has already stated that she rebuked his advances, and that the trip was taken under his own volition and willpower. And I will remind you that he is a grown man, and fully capable of making decisions of his own. You go to far, sir, insinuating that a curse is at work. That is a serious accusation, and the circumstances appear, to me, to be completely innocent."

Rhyeline's hands tighten into little fists, resting on the book in her lap. Lowering her gaze, she murmurs in a quiet, measured tone, "I believe he left this morning. He asked that I send you after him if I did not hear from him in a week." And with that, she rises with that same slow, careful grace. "I'm leaving now." She keeps her gaze lowered and without another word, turns and begins to head for the door.

Mikhale glances at Astoria. "Indeed, and you still do not understand humor," he replicates about accusations. "Very well. He is grown man and he has his lady. Of course, they can deal with that without any help. Of course." The man stands up, feeling obviously offended by some kind of a woman, who dares explain him how to care or not care about his family.
"Pleasure to meet you," bows Mikhale for the ladies. His genteel manners comes back as his haughty posture.

Astoria listens to Rhyeline, and then turns to Mikhale. She taps her cheek once and stands after Mikhale does. After smoothing her robes she says, "Perhaps we will speak again under more pleasant circumstances," with a nod. "I will see myself to the door." She turns and follows Rhyeline.

Rhyeline pauses at the door. Without turning around, she murmurs, "…I am not his lady. I did not give him permisson to court me… And- I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance from me, Mr. Carrow… Good evening." And with that, she heads off out into the night.


North Verdic Alley

Often considered part of Diagon Alley by the masses, Craeft Alley looks much the same as Diagon proper, with shops of all sizes often leaning against each other or leaning out over the walkway. Here in the Northern end of the alley, the differences are a little more noticeable however. The whole alley here is a little more cramped, the buildings pushed together all the harder and the walkway itself is smaller. It's as if a charm to increase the space here wore out years ago. The atmosphere is still bright and cheery, however.


Rhyeline steps out of Steele Travel onto the late night street. The stars shine over head, but the girl keeps her glistening gaze fixed on the cobble stones. Hugging that book of hers tight to her chest, she begins to wander blindly down the street.

Astoria exits the shop and snaps the door shut. "What a /disagreeable/ man," she says suddenly, though she does not snort or spit. She heaves a sigh, takes a moment to collect herself, and then walks away from the door with swift steps that clack against the stone. Her steps take her towards Rhyeline. "Dear," she calls, though not with much volume.

Rhyeline pauses at the sound of Astoria's gentle voice. The little one's nose is rather pink as are her eyes, filling with tears. She doesn't look up, but doesn't move away either.

Astoria sighs gently and her lips form a thin line. She reaches into her robes and pulls free a small, fresh handkerchief. "Please," she says, tone still crisp and without its edge. She offers the piece of cloth to Rhyeline.

Rhyeline's cheeks flush warm with embarrassment, but the girl accepts the cloth and dabs at her eyes. "Forgive me… I- I'm not- not used to such things…" Involved in political matters as she is, the girl has had anger expressed towards her before. However, it has never been so personal, nor so direct.

"His accusations were deplorable," Astoria replies. "And should not have been directed at you." She steps up beside the woman and adds, "Believe me, I have known many men like him. They grow angry on a whim, thrash about, and do not think before they speak. And without warning they return to normal, unaware of the hurt they have inflicted." She pauses, considering. "I should not judge him so harshly, but I could not stand to see him behave so /horribly/, as if t'were /your/ fault," she harrumphs. Stiffness overcomes her for a moment, but subsides as she speaks again, "I apologize if I embarrassed you."

Rhyeline lifts her gaze slowly and watches Astoria as she speaks with such sympathetic anger. The little one draws closer to offer back the handkerchief, only slightly damp with tears. "You are very kind… you did not embarrass me. I- I appreciated your presence…"

Astoria accepts the handkerchief with a nod. She folds it once and places it back inside her robes. "You are welcome," she says with a nod. A moment passes while Astoria looks down the alley. "Let's get ouf of this alleyway, hm? I should like the warmth of a fire."

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