[July 26] Making plans

There was something about being fully rested that had an almost sacred grace for Quinn. Operating at peak condition, no potions to prop up her mind, enjoying the fullness of her ability! This particular fully rested morning she was... writing letters. At least they were important.




Her bases were covered. The offers of payment, sport and knowledge would quickly spread through the three organizations' tight-knit circles, and she expected it would take not more than two days before letters of interest or refusal were returned. To speed things up, when she and Aisha went out for their various errands later in the day she would hand-deliver the messages to the right people.

Just as she finished the third letter, filled with the sort of hints of hidden knowledge that drive academics crazy, Aisha's voice called out from above her head. Good, her charge was awake. Now things could begin in earnest. There was much to do. Wanting to keep the position of her hidden and disillusioned tent a secret even from Aisha, just in case, Quinn flew out of a window on the top floor of the terrace and let herself back in through the garden. Upon reaching the dining room, she considered the empty chair and the pair of full plates seemingly abandoned. Hmm. Knowing that Aisha could return at any moment, Quinn sat down and began to "eat" her breakfast.

She wasn't actually going to eat what Aisha had prepared, she wasn't stupid, but it was best in this case to keep up appearances. They were allies, after all. To that end, before exiting her tent she pointed the tip of her wand at her own mouth and silently cast a useful little curse she had first learned about when it was used on her by a group of bullies at Hogwarts ("Tantalus!"). It had astounded her at the time that such a spell was used so frivolously, because the original purpose had to have been cruel and unusual torture, indeed! The curse created a small magical barrier at the back of the throat, with the sole purpose of Vanishing any food or drink the victim attempted to consume. They would get the taste of the meat, the smoothness of the liquor, but no matter how much they ate or drank they would never be satisfied, nor hydrated nor intoxicated. Based, no doubt, on the mythical inhabitant of Hades known by the same name, she speculated that at the time of the spell's invention cursed prisoners would have a ever-replenishing banquet brought out to "feed" them. Once subjected to the curse, they would slowly waste away and die of agonizing dehydration, surrounded by beautiful, edible food and drink, while the hidden torturers laughed at the irony and futility and pain they were inflicting.

At any rate, since she knew the countercurse she had re-purposed the Tantalus spell to serve her own paranoid needs. If she was unable to simply refuse a meal, she always surreptitiously cursed herself before eating food or drinking beverages prepared by others. She had her own well-protected stores of food and drink, confirmed to be safe, and she could always conjure water with Aguamenti if she was somehow unable to reach those stores. Tantalus wouldn't protect her from all poisons, some were just as dangerous in the mouth as in the stomach, but those were rare and the risk of their use was carefully balanced against the necessity to appear to eat and drink graciously from the tables of others.

The coming days of frantic activity had her excited, and in her solitude at the breakfast table, Quinn smiled wolfishly. It had been too long since she had a chance to truly apply herself. She hoped she actually could avoid burning this David Alexander to a crisp along with his sire and the rest, but if not? Well, it was no great loss. Family obligations aside, the fewer vampires in the world, the better.