You catch your breath and winter starts again, and everyone else is springbound...

[w_for_wizard]

In the alley behind the Empress Theatre, there's the loud crack of a pistol, easily mistaken for a car backfiring or something else entirely unnotable. There's no reason to be alarmed about it, either - if anyone happens to poke their head into the alley, they'll just see Harry, tucking his pistol away and moving forward to inspect a small leather

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[whateverthemess]

"It's a good thing I can't arrest you here." Murphy leans against the back door of the theater, a tiny smile on her face. "Well, I suppose I could perform a citizen's arrest, but it doesn't have the same ring of authority."

She joins him at the trashcan, eying the coat. "How goes it?"

[w_for_wizard]

"You'd arrest me while I'm doing something nice for you?" He pauses, and then adds, pointedly innocent, "Also, I have no idea what you're talking about."

He picks up the coat and turns it around in his hands, searching for a hole. There's not a mark that he can see, and after a moment, he holds it up for her inspection. "I think we might have something here."

[whateverthemess]

"I've arrested people for less, smartass." She grins, enjoying the sight of him for a moment before she comes over to examine the coat. "I don't know how you can tell, considering the fact that there are no illegal firearms in the vicinity."

She fingers the leather, her smile taking a slightly grim edge. "I can't believe I didn't ask you for one of these sooner."

[w_for_wizard]

"I think you've arrested me for less," he mutters under his breath. Okay, she never got to the point of actually arresting him, but she certainly did try.

He smirks at her a little, like it's not slightly ominous that she needs one of these anyway. It's the nature of his life - and hers, since she met him. "Neither can I, actually. But if it keeps you in one place, I'm glad to do it."

[quiettotheend]

Now, to a child who has read too much and watched too much television in her lifetime while living half of her world in fantasy anyway, that sound isn't the sound of a car backfiring or a pistol. It's the sound of someone disapparating.

Which is why Tabitha looks mildly disappointed after she peeks her way into the alley and sees that someone's there. Because well, if it was the sound of someone disapparating, they wouldn't be there anymore, now would they?

"You're not Harry Potter," she says ruefully, running her fingers through her hair.

[w_for_wizard]

Harry blinks and spins around, pistol behind his back. He... probably should have expected that that might draw someone's attention, but he couldn't very well go shooting things inside the theatre...

"No, I'm not. Dresden, actually, but nice guess." Pause. Eyebrow raise. "Was I supposed to be?"

[quiettotheend]

"Yes," Tabitha says, pressing her lips together and dropping her hands at her side. "You were."

She's not sure if she's being contrary for contrary's sake, mostly because she basically accused someone openly of being Harry Potter, or if she's really that upset there isn't a wizard lurking in the alleyway.

"I was hoping that noise was someone disapparating," she explains, as if that makes it better. "...obviously it wasn't. Unless you are randomly stalking in alleys holding pistols while people disapparate in them."

[w_for_wizard]

"I'm... sorry?" Harry says slowly, like he's not sure that's the appropriate response. Personally, he thinks he's much more impressive than Harry Potter, but try convincing anyone else of that.

He gives up holding the gun behind his back, putting it instead into its holster... because it's a little hard to hold a friendly conversation when you're holding a gun. Just... in general.

"No disapparating involved. I was just... testing something." With a gun. Like you do.

[foundrychoir]

No, it's not a particularly nice day to be out on the pier. Tristram has forgotten his scarf, too, but walks at a steady pace with his neck bare to the wind and his hands in the pockets of his blazer. He's flippantly blown off work, again, but so far his abilities to charm his coworkers into not being particularly irate with him have shown no signs of flagging.

Besides, guilt isn't very common in Trist's repertoire of emotions.

Seeing the young man out on the pier, Tristram pauses, and aims his steps in that direction. There's no one else out here to talk to, really; shyness isn't common in his repertoire either. And he's restless. But when isn't Tristram restless?

"Not the kindest weather I've ever seen the lake cough up," he says coolly once within hearing range of Gale, his strides falling to an aimless stop a few paces away. Out here, more exposed to the water, the air bites harder on his uncovered skin; his pale cheeks are flushes, eyes narrowed slightly against the wind.

[fiaintaibhse]

Gale's less than warmly dressed himself, a coat thrown on carelessly and left unbuttoned, the wind and cold little more than a vague annoyance. He glances over to the man as he speaks, raising an eyebrow.

"It's February. If the weather were friendly, no one would know what to do with themselves."

[foundrychoir]

"I suppose that's true."

What HAD Tristram been doing last February? Ah yes. Practically living on the streets. Panic at not being able to go back from whence he came. Devastated at the sudden severance of connection with Vianne. That first situation had improved greatly since then, the second fading to simple frustrated annoyance. The latter, though... well, some aches don't really fade. It's more like missing a limb.

"I guess I haven't really lived here long enough to expect the seasons like some people do. Makes every day a surprise." At least a little. After having looked sidelong at Gale once more, Tristram turns his eyes back to the water.

"So, indulge me. What brings you out in it."

[fiaintaibhse]

"I was just... thinking," he sighs. "I thought the cold might help."

And sometimes, in the cold and quiet, it used to be easier to find his sister. It's not working. There's the faint hint of should be, might have been, maybe was, but maybe that's only wishful thinking on his part.

"Do you have a better reason?" Gale asks after a minute, eyes still on the water.

[nounicorns]

There happens to be a blonde girl walking past the alley when Harry does his shooting. So, at the noise, Kristy's head swivels, and Oh sh*t there's a guy with a gun.

Yes, Kristy even bleeps out curse words in her own internal monologue, sometimes.

So she does the only logical thing, which is to run away while fumbling for her cell phone so she can call the police. She couldn't really see clearly enough to find out of someone actually got shot, but... someone was shooting a gun in there, and she's pretty sure there's no friendly reason to do that.

You may want to do something about that, Harry.

[w_for_wizard]

Harry was kind of betting on the fact that he'd only need one shot and that there probably wouldn't be any passersby who actually cared at the exact moment he decided to go shooting things.

With his luck, he really shouldn't have counted on that.

He catches sight of the girl out of the corner of his eye, the sudden movement catching his attention. It takes him a moment to process, and then he growls, quickly holstering his revolver and running after her. Murphy is going to kill him if she has to bail him out of jail.

"Wait!" he calls, hands up and palms out. "I swear everything's okay and I'm not going to hurt you."

[nounicorns]

This would be the worst possible time to drop her phone, so of course, that's what Kristy does. She makes a small squeaky noise and whirls and the guy's there behind her. She's not going to listen to the guy with a gun. Listening to the guy with the gun is a bad idea. Going closer to the guy with the gun is also stupid, and if she doubles back to get her phone, that's pretty definitely closer.

Great. My life could be depending on my ability to do magic. I don't believe in magic. I don't...

There's nothing else she can do. She starts stumbling backwards, thinking as hard as she can, Phone in my hand. Phone in my hand.

And then the phone's in her hand.

[w_for_wizard]

Even if Harry didn't quite see what happened there, he still doesn't miss it - there's a palpable shift in energies, of magic slightly flailing and uncertain and not quite what he's used to, but definitely there.

He skids to a stop, hands still raised, though he keeps a wary eye on the phone in her hands. If she starts dialing, he can short it out with hardly any effort at all, but he'd hate to break the girl's phone for no good reason.

"Hold on... just a second and let me explain before you call the police, okay? I'm not going to come any closer, I'm just going to stand here and be very still." He's talking to her in that low, soothing voice generally used with easily startled animals - mostly because chasing a teenage girl through the streets is generally a bad idea no matter what your very good reason is.

"You're a wizard?" he asks gently after a moment. "Or a witch or a mage or... I have no idea what word you usually use around here."

[enoughtocut]

Cara's walking down the street, a bit happier than she's been since she first arrived. It's not exactly obvious to the outside world, as she's not the type to smile, but she's feeling less pessimistic than usual. Because her eyes are back to their normal color. After a week of black eyes, of looking into the mirror and seeing Analiese, she's herself again. She's Cara

[w_for_wizard]

Harry still has the gun in his hand when he hears footsteps at the mouth of the alley, and he turns around, putting on the best innocent expression anyone could possibly manage while holding an illegal firearm.

He makes very certain he's not pointing the gun anywhere near the woman who just came around the corner.

"I guess you never listened to all the people saying you shouldn't bring a knife to a gunfight." He pauses a beat, and then adds, "Not that there's a gunfight here."

Just Harry, and a woman's trenchcoat on a trashcan. Nothing to worry about.

[enoughtocut]

"What can I say. I'm quicker than most with a knife." That, and Cara's guns had been left behind in the real world. A fact she would have to rectify soon, considering she kept getting into trouble.

She scanned the alley. No signs of a fight, of blood. No body. Just a coat on a trashcan. Still, she kept her knife raised, her senses on alert. She'd been through enough to know that not everything is what it seems. "If you're here for target practice, you might want to try somewhere less conspicuous. Or at least stand further away from the can."

[w_for_wizard]

Harry smirks a little as he tucks his pistol into its holster, moving slowly so he won't alarm her. Sure, she's still got a knife in her hand, but he's not too concerned about that - if she is going to attack him, which he doubts, he'll get a shield up before she reaches him.

And... there is no way he can explain what he was actually doing in this alley. Testing a magically shielded coat is not an explanation most people will accept, so he's just going to grin sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, the other option was target practice inside, and I have a friend who'd probably kill me if I started firing guns in her building."