Coming Back Home (Finley, Open)

Finley very obviously flinched as his voice raised and started to motion for him to quiet down. There were still people milling around on the streets, just outside of their little storage room, and she didn't want to risk somebody just happening upon their conversation.

"Shh! Shush! Listen, would you SHUT UP?" she finally snapped, moving closer to him and raising her hands to try and cover his mouth. She didn't seem to understand the implications of the action, however.

"If you don't want to believe me, that's fine. I can show you. But you really need to keep it down. If people find out what we are, it'll be bad. Really bad."

Surprised by his kindness, she took a deep breath before leading him out. Honestly, he seemed like a bit of a brute, and she'd be lying if she said that it didn't intimidate her to some degree. She was weak and she knew it, and while brilliant, was not too great at getting herself out of dangerous situations.

Still, Finley led him out of the storage room and back into the open streets. She stayed mostly quiet as she started to head back to the Opera House, a well known tourist spot of Belfast. If he hadn't met the Prince yet, it was probably best for him to do so, anyways.

"Just follow me," she said softly, motioning for him to keep up.

Uncomfortable in the silence, Finley picked up her pace and led him through the streets. She could feel his gaze in her back, burning a hole directly into her soul. She coughed slightly, running her hand through her hair again, and simply continued to lead him.

There was a large, gruff looking Irishman guarding the gate doors of the Opera House. He peered down at the tiny girl with very little expression on his face, but as soon as he saw Daniel, his hand fell towards his gun.

"No, no," Finley was quick to say, raising her hands to stop any sort of altercation. She didn't like the idea of a brawl breaking out in the middle of a busy street. "Its okay. He's with me. I am just bringing him to see the Prince." She looked back to make sure he wasn't going to start anything.

"Men," she muttered under her breath, staying between the two as they continued their staring contest. The guard had the obvious upper hand, both with his size and with the gun he wore on his belt, but it didn't look like her new "friend" had any interest in avoiding a fight, either.

Finally, the guard took his hand off his gun and seemed to relax, even going as far as to turn his back to the pair to open the gates. "You know where to go," he said, mostly to Finley. She nodded and moved into the grassy courtyard, waiting for Daniel to follow her.

"Now, look," she said softly, to Daniel. "The Prince... I only just met him today, but he doesn't seem to have a great attitude. Just... Remember. He owns this city. So try to be nice, okay?"

"Actually, he kind of does," she muttered, flinching preemptively for anything that he might say to her. She made sure there was some space between her and the brute, hoping she was out of range from a swing, in case it came. "He owns this entire town, and if you're a part of the town... Then yeah. He kind of owns you..."

For the umpteenth time that night, Finley raised her hands defensively and gave a shake of her head. If this brute really wanted to act like he owned the world, then fine, she would let him think he was some Billy bad ass. He wasn't her responsibility, and if he really thought he could fight a Prince and a Scourge... That was his own business.

She shrugged off his comment and turned to lead him around the Opera House, towards the cellar doors that would lead them down into the fancy basement. The wooden doors would swing open and expose a long staircase, leading down into the darkness.

She started walking down the stairs, leading him down into the laughter. The basement was well flourished with beautiful, reflective floors, and overly comfortable chairs and couches. Two rooms were branched off to the sides, but the doors were closed. Somebody was playing a piano in the corner.

Finley stopped once they had reached the bottom of the stairs. There were a few scatterings of men and women, some gathered around the piano and some lounging across overstuffed chairs, but none seemed to pay any attention to the two newcomers. Awkwardly, she glanced at Daniel, then over to one of the men propped up in his seat, long legs crossed.

The Prince was too tan, his hair too dark, to be Irish. He was wearing clothes obviously tailored to his body, and his smile, a slow and predatory thing, looked a little too wide for his face. He had a gorgeous girl, some Toreador whore, perched on the arm of his seat.

"Ahh, Finley," he cooed, standing to welcome her. He pretended not to notice her flinch as he began to approach. "Welcome back! I didn't expect to see you... So soon."

She cleared her throat and, instinctively, stepped behind the brute. In a childish gesture, she reached up to gingerly grab his sleeve, and he would be able to feel the quiver of fear that passed through her. The Prince frowned deeply and his eyes shined with a moment of hatred before he seemed to regain control of himself.

"And I see you've brought a friend. Donal, is it? You own the farm just outside of my city, don't you?" Careful words, very specifically chosen. "I'm surprised you aren't here with your vixen. She should be introducing her childe, yes?"