Please Charlotte, Don't Hurt'em

This is a partial log so far! It's a work in progress! I posted this so that the other two in the scene could see exactly where we left off. Thank you!


The Copper Lily
Clearly a place for the frugal tourist, the hotel room is built to a low
standard. The walls sport a single coat of black paint that is chipping and
peeling in most places, barely covering the splintered wood that makes up both
the walls and floors of the room. Sand covers the flooring as well, probably
left behind by ill-mannered guests but positive proof that no cleaning staff has
been through the room for quite some time. From a single window with white
shades a little natural light eeks through and provides the lone source of
illumination for the entire place. In the corner of the room there sit a few
wooden chairs and in the opposite there is a small bed covered by a black
bedsheet that's stiff and scratchy to the touch. This seems to be the 'main'
bed, whereas the rest of the room is almost broken down into 'tents' that serve
to replace the more modern or normal 'rooms'. There is no sign of electricity
or air conditioning of any sort.

* Exits *
east - Khan el Khalili: The Bazaar
(Maxwell) A tousle-haired American with hazel eyes is here. (App 3) [ Good 'Ole Boy ] |None|
(IC)

Slipping in with a nearly expert sort of quiet grace, ducking low so as to avoid announcing her presence when the door is even slightly opened, comes the shadow of a petite woman. The messenger bag at her side is held still with one hand, while the other is occupied holding some sort of food item. Her grey eyes sweep the room from just beside the door as her lips press into a thin, pensive line. Quiet footsteps bring her further into the hotel, as from every which way little black specks hop towards her. She manages only to scowl at the little arachnids, stifling her wince of displeasure and just going about her sneaky little business. (Stealth - 5 successes)

Keeping out of the heat of the evening, Maxwell Hearkenstone is quite passed out on the main, and only, bed of the Copper Lily, resting with his tousled blonde hair propped up on a pillow, and wearing just khaki colored pair of shorts. The stitches in his side are visible at this point, but he seems to be healing well enough. On the nightstand next to him is an unopened coke, and his infamous tranquilizer gun.

A frown contorts Ella's face with disgust as she gravitates to the only visible body in the room, whether at the tranquilizer gun on the nightstand or the biologist's wound it's hard to say. Lifting her hand to her mouth, she takes another bite from her peculiar food find, a pancake rolled up and stuffed with something yellowish-brown and savory. Her head tilts from one side to the other as she inspects the wound, her brow furrowing in the slightest. Having gotten her looksie, she turns around and puts some distance between her and the shirtless man on the bed, instead taking up residence in one of the rickety wooden chairs littering the room.

Maxwell Hearkenstone shifts about in his sleep, grumbling something under his breath that's more a curse at the heat of the night and a mild gripe about Cairo itself, before flipping over on his stomach, and wincing at his side. It's just seconds before he flips right onto his back again, bringing a hand up to rub at a still-closed eye, "..I hate this place..". He's still out of it though, at least for now.

An angular eyebrow lifts as Ella raises her half-eaten treat to eye level, looking it over with a faint smile. "Oh, I dunno about that. I mean sure it stinks like crazy and it makes my senses go nuts and the people all talk like they're from Team America World Police, but they did get some stuff right. The food," she pauses do draw in a lungful of air from her nose, "is done right. Their fashion sense has much to be desired, seeing as how I can't stand wearing that burka thing, but at least I managed to find some new duds finally," she rambles on in a normal speaking tone, her leg lifting to plunk itself down on a nearby chair as she tugs at the grey cargo pants leg with her free hand. "Thought I'd have to run around with a hole in the seat of my pants for the rest of my time here…"

From door of the hotel, the slender figure of Charlotte makes it's way into veiw of the main room. Her honey-blond hair is tied back away from her face, and her skin is bronzed from the weeks in the bright sun. She's wearing a pair of simple, white cotton sweat pants that are a bit too big for her, and the lengths of hem that hang over her sneakers are both tattered and stained brown. A skin-tight white crewneck tee matches the pants, though the material shimmers like something synthetic. Settled around her shoulders and ribs is a black leather holster that supports the handgun tucked almost under her left arm, though most of it is concealed by a knee length, sleeveless jacket made of soft, brown material.

"..Why are people talking..", Maxwell asks, more to himself than to anyone else. He grumbles again, blindly fumbling around for the Coke at his nightstand, and then cracking it open to have a drink. Warm carbonation against his parched through, he sits up a bit, frowning, and rubs at his eyes some more; then and only then opening them for the first time, "Hey. I thought I already shot at you..", he monotones, before noticing Charlotte in the door. Still caught in the throes of his sleep, he offers her a half-cocked smile.

The chair creaks in protest as Ella leans back, her gaze swinging around to watch Charlotte carefully as the lithe woman saunters into the hotel. "Yeah, I think you might have tried, but it didn't work. The trajectory was way off," she responds to Maxwell without looking away from the Alpha. She takes the time to tear off another bite of her bizarre rolled-pancake thing, occupying her mouth with food instead of words lest it get her into trouble. All the while, the fingers of her opposite hand drum nervously over the top of her messenger bag, her small frame holding a sort of quiet tenseness about it.

Charlotte makes her way further into the room, and her eyes pass over Ella first before she gives Maxwell a short nod. "Good to see you up, Max. I would have left a note, but I figured you'd call me when you woke up." Her attention doesn't linger on either of them for very long, however, and she makes her way towards her tent with quiet steps. She crouches down near the entrance flaps as she reaches them, slipping open the zipper before pushing both flaps up out of her way. She pulls one of the huge duffle bags inside of the tent towards her with ease, and after pressing open a similar zipper, rumages through contents of it. While mostly clothes, they seem important enough that the honey-blond Alpha tosses a change of clothes to the side before sitting back on her heels and gathering the clothes into her lap.

"Yeah. Just woke up. Give me a second to find my phone..", Maxwell states, pulling open the drawer on the nightstand and rummaging through it for a moment. He stops though, in just seconds, blinks, and then mutters, "..Wait. Fuck. I need to wake up..", and just laughs. At least he's recovering. Sitting up some more, he takes another long drink of the warm beverage, before telling Ella, "The trajectory was off because I wasn't trying to hit you. It was a warning shot. Don't act so hopeful. I am magnificent with that tranquilizer gun..".

A grin washes over Ella's face for only a split second as she shifts her gaze slightly from Charlotte to Maxwell, her voice crawling with amusement, "Of course you are, and it's too fucking hot outside for me to tell you that I think you're bluffing and to have you pick it up again and try to shoot me one more time to prove your point, so I'm not going to say it. But," she holds up a single finger, "it's a good thing you can't read my mind. Because I might be thinking it. -Might-." With that, she lets her hand fall to her side, still balancing easily on two legs of her chair while one leg's propped up in a second.

Charlotte rolls her eyes softly as Maxwell's laughing brings a half-smile to her lips. She shakes her head softly, and after bundling the fresh clothes under one arm, she comes to her feet while kicking off her sneakers. Her eyes go between Maxwell and Ella for a moment, releasing her shoulder length hair from the elastic at the back of her neck. "I've never heard anyone accuse you of bluffing before, Max," she tells the Kinfolk in a light, joking tone. Without any sort of hesitation, she proceeds to remove her pants, kicking them to the side before replacing them with a pair of tan capris that she tightens around her hips with a simple drawstring.

"That's because no one has ever lived to tell the tale..", Maxwell states, smirking a bit before glancing over to the edge of the nightstand, there the almost fake-looking gun is resting. He seems to eyeball it for a moment, as if pondering over something, before just shaking his head, "Charlie. Ella here has something to tell you..", he admits, pulling a face at the dark-haired woman in the chair, before turning his attention back to the swiftly stripping Alpha.

The tip of Ella's pink tongue pokes out in a rather grade school manner at the pincushion of a kinfolk before her expression rights itself into more of a contemplative look. It takes her a moment to sort out her thoughts, using the last mouthful of the savory egg fatir to buy her a few extra seconds. It's only after she swallows it that she sits forward, the chair righting itself with an audible clack. She leans forward a bit, her elbows propped up on her knees and her hands folded together, as she draws in a small breath to speak. "Okay, for one, I am pretty sure that girl from the marketplace is one of you guys," she nods vaguely in Charlotte's direction as she speaks, "but it could be that my senses are freaking the hell out because Cairo is such a festering cesspool. The girl just, ah, doesn't know it yet. I wanted to try to locate her parents, but she clammed up about them. She said she didn't know where they could be, didn't even know where she had been staying with them. That didn't give me enough to go on, and it's been fruitless." She heaves a sigh as she shakes her head slowly, "That's not the only thing I have to tell you, but in my eyes it's kinda more important."

Charlotte manages to shrug up one shoulder even as she's slipping out of her jacket and her holster. "Phelan did enough to keep her here long enough to figure it out, I'm afraid. I have bigger problems that a lost teenager at the moment." She drops the jacket and the holster down on the edge of the bed near Maxwell, her attention soley focused on her undressing and dressed. She pulls her teeshirt over her head and tosses it with the already discarded pants, and pulls a new, strikingly similar one, over her head. "I want to know why there were men armed with silver after her, anyways. It was kind of a tipoff."

Maxwell doesn't speak anything at all for this bit, just sitting back and being irresponsible as he lets his hand pull at the stiches in his side, if gently. He lets the big girls talk, though does seem to find the time of the evening to watch Charlotte dress and undress, which for him, is no sort of spectacular undertaking at this point.

Dark eyebrows drift down over Ella's eyes as she frowns slightly, glancing at the floor as a couple of her little eight-legged passengers jump from one arm to the other. "The only thing I can think of is that they had been on the lookout for those of your particular skill and, while she was hanging around Cairo, they caught her scent. Or someone that works for them or with them did. From what I could gather, they were trying to subdue her, not kill her, which makes the whole situation just that much more nefarious." Her fingers start to pick up on their drumming again, even while they stay woven together in her lap. "Those guys looked just like the ones at that warehouse. Exactly like them. Maybe, just maybe, there are some kind of files or information inside that place about what they've been up to and I bet I could get in through the roof," she muses aloud, her head tilting to the side before her charcoal eyes widen and she unlaces her finger to hold up a forestalling hand, "Which brings me to the other thing Maxwell was talking about, in that I'm not related to you guys as closely as he is, but I -am- a rather distant cousin."

The Alpha freezes briefly before picking up her holster again, slipping it delicately over her shoulders. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse that you went to the warehouse without checking with anyone," she growls briefly, though her eyes stay on adjusting her vest instead of Ella for now. "You either need to keep talking, or Maxwell needs to stop keeping things from me. You two can pick." She pushes her hair out of her face, her demeanor dancing between nerves and calm in a bit of a shakey pattern. She steps towards the bed where Max is sitting and takes up her sleeveless jacket, tossing it towards her tent for now, clearly not worried about displaying the handgun once again under her arm, and takes a seat lightly on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Pft. Hey. I haven't had a chance to. I haven't even seen you since I found out. You've been doing a lot of running around, and I've been doing a lot of sleeping..", Maxwell states, pointing out his innocence to the whole situation, before having another drink of his warm Coke. Still, his hand keeps picking at the stiches at his side and frowning down at them some more. Either way, he doesn't say more than that, and puts his focus back onto torturing himself.

Tugging nervously at the strap of her messenger bag where it stretches across her body, distorting her white tee that proudly displays both fold creases and the phrase "Cairo Native" in black, Ella pulls another frown at the taller woman. "My family does things like this all the time and have done so since we've existed. Just with them you guys mostly didn't know or didn't care, until you needed the information our prying provided. We're social, but solitary. It's our way. Besides," she continues, once again leaning back on two legs of her chair, "people always make the mistake of always looking down or ahead, but hardly ever up. Those goons had no idea they were being surveyed. I know my job, and maybe I shoulda stuck with it instead of deviating from the usual modus operandi… which brings me to Max here," she nods curtly in his direction. "If it weren't for him, and his mouth any of my brothers and sisters would be envious of, I wouldn't have come back -here- at all. I would have just followed, watched, and got the hell out of Dodge."

Charlotte blinks a few times, pushing both hands up through her hair and secures it once more with the elastic at the base of her neck. "My family does things so that we know when someone makes a mistake, we know about it." She sounds almost exasperated now, wetting her lips. "I sent one of mine out. She put her life in danger to get the information that you're telling me you went and got yourself… without talking to anyone? Now you're telling me not only that you're not Kinfolk, but you just made it sound like Max is responsible for you risking your life for us. Think about how I should feel right now, since you know who I am."

Maxwell, not sticking his opinions or thoughts out anymore, grabs the pillow from behind his head and causes it to thunk against the headboard, before burying his face into the material, which is not comfortable material at all.

Ella shakes her head resolutely in Charlotte's direction while letting out a long sigh, her thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose gently. "Not at all, since I didn't even talk to Maxwell until after I had done that. I came back because I was missing my other memory card, the empty one, and I kinda wanted to make sure he and Phelan and the girl were okay. I saw your friend out there with some army-looking guy and, to me at least, the flash from their camera seemed bright, even though they were like a mile away. I went and made sure the goon-bots didn't see, and they really didn't seem to notice at all. So no, me risking my life was all my own doing, as it always is." Lowering her intense stare to the ground once more, the pale woman's voice grows a little more faint, "I'm not doing this for you, per se. I'm doing it for the people who would be hurt by the shit those guys are putting out in the world market, and maybe I'm doing it at least a little for a guy that should be here instead but he's stretched way too thin as it is. He doesn't need anymore shit on his plate."

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