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[sunnydalealum]

It's a bigger room, this time. The better to fit two dozen zhirelin in addition to the sorcerers themselves.

The conference room setup this time is much hastier, at Emma's orders. The table's been upended against the wall instead of removed entirely; the blood in the spell diagram is still tacky. Everything's in place, including the two most vital components: the real Kshaartian mandrake, and the Scythe.

Emma's trying hard not to pace as the two red-robed apprentices bend to light the first candles, as the priests in their darker robes begin chanting.

We're in the homestretch. Go. Go. Go.

Comments

[sunnydalealum]

The low droning chant of the spell is punctuated by the click of the door knob turning. Emma's shoulders stiffen, and she turns on her heel to stalk toward the opening door.

In a fierce low tone, she hisses "Connie, I said no inter--"

[hopeitsworthit]

Well, shit.

Dean pulls up his most shit-eating smile and swaggers through the door.

"Kind of a shame we don't need to listen to Connie, ain't it."

Yeah.

Huge shame.

Really.

[gavemea_45]

Sam's own smile is edged.

"Hi."

A beat.

"Don't tell me you started without us."

[slayer_fray]

Mel says nothing. Because she's the muscle, right? And the muscle doesn't say anything.

She stays somewhat behind the boys in a confident, slightly bored slouch. However, her eyes are involuntarily drawn to the scythe. The other scythe. The old scythe.

It's so rutting weird, having two of them in the same room.

[sunnydalealum]

She's not alone.

Every zhirel in the room is staring at her Scythe. And back at the one on the table.

The blonde one standing closest to the door raises a hand involuntarily, and then takes a step back.

[sunnydalealum]

Emma's visibly thrown for a split second, but recovers.

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, we weren't expecting any further additions and I'm afraid we have started. The ritual's at a delicate stage right now, so if you'd please --"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean's eyebrows go up, and he takes another step into the room.

"Pretty sure it bein' delicate means everything'll go smoother if you take a second to deal with our--concerns right now."

He smiles. It's very friendly.

"Right?"

[sunnydalealum]

"I'm not..."

She falters again, looking at the second Scythe, and her gaze flicks up to the blonde by the door.

Who's looking back at her in stunned silence, and slowly nods. It's real.

[gavemea_45]

"Fully informed?" he supplies, still smiling.

A beat.

"What did you think would happen? You're lucky we got here when we did. Launching a spell like that without accounting for a dual focus, not to mention the--"

[sunnydalealum]

Emma shuts the door firmly, and turns to face them.

"All right," she says, her voice dreadfully quiet, her eyes narrowed in restrained wrath. "Let's talk."

[gavemea_45]

"Oh, I'd agree."

If we show any sign of doubt--

That's all it takes for him to make a snap decision.

"You first."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean backs Sam up, like always.

This time he does it by keeping his mouth shut.

One arched eyebrow and his patented 'waiting all day for you to spill' expression should do the trick.

[sunnydalealum]

"What?"

The glare's masking an unease that's trying to turn into panic, ruthlessly held down.

"I've had authorization for this project for the past eight months. From the highest levels on down. Are you telling me someone's complaining now?"

[gavemea_45]

"Why else would we be here?"

Don't give her time to answer that.

"Let's just say there are some people who have serious... concerns."

Like stopping that spell.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean casts a gimlet eye around the room, marking the setup and the company.

"Lookin' at what you've got goin' on here, I'm starting to think they've got a point."

He's certainly not a big fan.

For starters.

[sunnydalealum]

"Then they go through channels," she bites off, "and put a hold on the project in a timely manner, not at the last minute --"

[gavemea_45]

"-- and give you time to finish before the channels can stop you, isn't that right?" Sam cuts in.

"Lucky for you that we got word of what was going on."

[sunnydalealum]

Once outside the room, the blonde turns to the others. "All right, we're going to need a few of us to stand guard here."

A flat, closed look at Mel. "Figure you might want to do the same," she adds, and there's a question buried in it.

[slayer_fray]

Mel glances back at the door, and shrugs obviously.

"Nah, screw 'em. I'm sick of playing the rutting bodyguard. I need some action."

[sunnydalealum]

A few of the others grin, but the blonde's look is flatly disapproving.

"Up to you. Juliet, Amy, you're assigned to our guest here. Erica, you take a group down to the lobby -- has anyone seen Melissa?" she interrupts herself, sounding exasperated.

[slayer_fray]

Mel practically thrives on disapproval from blondes.

Well, one blonde mostly, but this'll do. She continues to smile easily, waiting to see if anyone else will volunteer information about 'Melissa'.

After all, it's not like she'd know, is it?

[sunnydalealum]

The girl addressed as Erica shakes her head. "She should have called in by now," she says, a little dubiously.

[slayer_fray]

Mel looks from girl to girl, patiently.

"So you guys just wanna wait for your pal to turn up? 'Cause there's things to be done."

[sunnydalealum]

That level look again from the blonde. "All right," she says finally. "We're gonna sweep the lower levels. You stay with Amy and Juliet, and don't engage anyone until they've identified them as hostiles."

A beat.

"You know how to use that thing?" And it's not so much challenge as it is ... well, something perilously close to envy.

[slayer_fray]

"Yeah," Mel says and draws it out with the ease of someone who knows her weapon intimately. There's a note of pride and a lot of fondness in her voice, none of which is faked.

"We're old friends."