They were pathetic.  Each and every one of them.  With their expensive, tattered pants, their equally expensive, tattered shirts and their extravagant hairstyles, they all moved in some semblance of motion that one might interpret as dance.  Most appeared drunk enough not to know the difference. 

A random muggle night club in London would probably not have been Cinaed's first choice of meeting venues for his first venture back into the city, but it would do.  It was, his first time back to the city after he'd politely declined Raynor's offer to turn over his son.  The last two weeks, Cinaed had all but dropped off the map.  Almost literally.  He'd left his mother and Raynor in the burning rubble of the Montrose home and apparated to the Black Chimaera.  Knowing the Aurors would be right on his tail, he'd grabbed Fionn and had apparated again.  Within days, he'd found a remote cottage on the Isle of Muck.  The old muggle woman had been imperioused and was mindlessly playing nannie to a her grand-nephew, Fionn. 

The time had come to return to London and a muggle nightclub seemed the rendezvous point of choice.  Christian had talked him into it, listing a number of unique advantages.  First and foremost, the aurors were unlikely to look there.  London was, apparently, filled with these things.  Chances were slim the Ministry had the man power to keep watch on every single muggle establishment in the city on the off chance Cinaed might show up.  They were likely watching Knockturn, the Chimaera, known residences of fellow ex-Azzies or anti-Ministry individuals - but probably not the Blagclub Ladbroke Grove. 

WIth slight adjustments, Chris insisted Cinaed would blend right into the crowd.  They swapped out the long black cloak for a waist length leather jacket and pair of black jeans.  It had seemed a good choice; so far, the most Cinaed had gotten was a variety of approving nods that clearly the deliverers thought were 'cool' in nature.  Any aurors, on the other hand, would likely stand out like sore thumbs in this crowd with their redundant clean cut appearances. 

Lastly, they were muggles.  They would be foolishly - stupidly unaware of any magic performed in their vicinity.  Cinaed could conduct his business, carefully alter a few memories just enough and no one would be the wiser. 

Planning the demise of the sheep while hiding in the middle of the flock.  The irony of it was amusing enough to counter the negative aspect of huddling in the flock. 

Just this once, Cinaed had relied on Chris to pass word to a few reliable contacts.  He had to get his bearings again in London.  Had to find a way to continue to build the WBA and be a presence while avoiding the Aurors.  He needed to know what was going on; who he could trust, who he could gather information from.  He'd find an alternate contact and cut Chris out of that loop - for both of their sakes.  From there, the strategizing would begin. 

Muggle nightclubs. Not exactly the place Meredith had expected to meet the new renegade Cináed and other WBA members and supporters. Her channels had caught word of this through Chris and so here Meredith was, a secret mudblood at a meeting for the Wizarding Blood Alliance. She did love irony.

The young woman moved through the crowd of the nightclub. She had been here before- she often frequented muggle nightclubs looking for tips and tricks for her own beloved Spellpunk. Even if she was recognized, she had a cover.

Not that is was likely she would be recognized. For God's sakes it might take a moment for her own comrades to recognize her. Her most noticeable feature- the livid scar that disfigured the better part of the right side of her face- was gone. She had employed the charm and potion skills of her employees to temporarily remove the mar, leaving her skin smooth and untouched except for dark makeup. To be honest, Meredith felt odd without it, almost naked. In a strange way, the scar gave her confidence, made her feel less like a little girl playing with grown ups.

But her employees had assured Meredith that she was just as striking as a London club girl. Her hair was blue, she was wearing Muggle purple contacts that matched her newly painted nails. She hadn't given up on the little hints of her slightly twisted humor, but she hardly thought the skulls would scream 'Meredith Renfield.' Skulls were 'in' now, they were 'sheik'- or so that's what the magazines said.  She was a young Londoner with blue hair wearing skulls, leather and fishnets. How novel.

After a few minutes of searching, Meredith spotted the man of the hour. The leather coat suited him. Actually the whole look suited him. Not the Meredith was about to tell the WBA leader and blood purist that a muggle look suited him.

"Hello stranger," Meredith said as she walked up to him. "Buy you a drink?"

James never really understood fashion period.  Usually that was ok, because half the times he was out in public he was either wearing a uniform a color coded shirt of some kind.  While a few of his female acquaintances did nothing but obsess about it, James was more of a "one neutral tone" fits all type person.  As he walked up to  Cináed, he noticed that someone had wasted a fair amount of perfectly good die.  Debating whether or not he should make a remark on her natural hair color, James opted not to.  Though James was disillusioned from muggles, he knew the spell should not have an effect on wizards.  And judging by the looks of some of these people, he would not be surprised if they were using recreational potions.  Or perhaps the muggle equivalent thereof. 

Though there were some girls worth taking back to his flat in this place, he would rather be in and out of this place quickly.  Simply put, there were too many guys here for the number of females, and this place did not have the look of his preferred type of watering hole. 

Not really being in anyone's inner circle, James understood that people did get lost from time to time.  He did not think that people would go to ground as quickly as  Cináed did though.  It seemed as though he had not gone to the Black Chimaera for a while, and that being the case, he needed to get something from the Scott.  Debating whether or not it would be worth it to ignore the female, he decided to open with a neutral query.

Looking at the two of them, he addressed  Cináed.  "When you have a moment, come see me.  We have some business to discuss," James interrupted about as politely as he could, before starting to look for another mage to speak to.  He did not want to interrupt  Cináed's fun this evening, but he did want that recipe.

So soon after being released back into the world, Alexandrina was already wiggling her way back into the extremist social circles.  So much for rehabilitation.  Oh, but she was quite pleased with herself for finding out about this little gathering, and even more proud of herself for actually making it.  It all proved that after so many years she was still good at something and that her ability to find out the things she wanted to know were still sharp.  Not that it had been easy, she spent quite a lot of time lurking around Knockturn, talking to the right  people (carefully), and listening to even more (again, very carefully). 

The idea of going out and doing something meaningful against was nothing short of thrilling, and the rush gave Alexandrina a burst of youthful energy that made her actually feel a bit younger.  Only a bit, though,  Four years at the most.  The only thing that really soured her mood was the unfortunate location.  There were muggles everywhere, and Alexandrina swore she could smell some awful stench on them.  Even more disturbing was when she came to the realization that she actually blended in rather well without even trying.  The mixing of glamor and garbage seemed to be pretty en vogue with this crowd.  At least her version was actually authentic.

Alexandrina cautiously made her way through the crowd, carefully not to make any accidental physical contact with anyone.  Of course, in a space that was so full of moving human bodies (many drunk), occasionally brushing shoulders was inevitable, and even that momentary contact was enough to make Alexandrina feel ill and annoyed.  What inconsiderate animals!  It took a few minutes--and two times when she felt like she was going in circles--for her to find who she thought was the man she was looking for.  Alexandrina put on her best fake smile and approached him.

"Hello," se said softly.  "We haven't met, but I think I've been looking for you."

A woman was weaving her way through the crowds.  If this had been the darkened gutters of Knockturn, the woman would have stood out like a peacock in a flock of pigeons.  Even here, there was no mistaking the woman.  Her camouflage worked but only because the rest of the throng were just as strangely dressed as she was. 

And, despite the blatant muggleness of it, it wasn't a bad sight.  After several weeks of near total isolation, save one pruned old muggle woman, Cinaed wouldn't hesitate to admit he enjoyed the view. 

Except, this was a business meeting. 

"Hello, my dear," he greeted in return, reaching out to offer take the woman's hand gently in greeting.  "I wouldn't pass on a drink," he admitted, glancing over his shoulder towards the bar.  Oh - how quickly times did change.  A month ago, his pub was a thriving business; today, a woman was buying him a drink at a muggle establishment.  But, the Ministry was bound to have put some sort of trace on his coffers at Gringotts.  However many galleons he had to his name was an irrelevant detail.  And, the old muggle pensioner he was crashing wasn't exactly rolling in pounds to steal. 

A second woman approached the table and Cinaed's grin broadened further.  She was, likewise, pleasant to look at even with the obvious tell tale signs:  that sunken, lost expression - the obvious dulled fringes.  Cinaed's grin broadened even further as he nodded.  He'd made it a point of making the Black Chimaera a place of opportunity for ex-Azzies like himself so there had been no shortage of ex-Azzie patrons.  When the Ministry's Bridge Houses failed to help the recently released Azkaban prison find their feet, the Chimaera had stepped in - offering free meals, lodging, temporary employment and even housing while, at the same time, reintegrating into Knockturn.  His biggest regret to his recent change of employment was seeing the BC loose that role. 

"How long you been out?" he asked, offering the woman his hand.  "They got you on wand restrictions?  Name's Cinaed.  Though I reckon you might have already known that."  It was a safe bet, given the woman's claim she was looking for him.  "I'd offer you a drink but, I'm afraid, I'm in no position to be buying.  And, as much as I have no qualms about stealing drinks here," he cast a glance around the room at the throng of muggles before looking back, "the Ministry's probably got their eyes to the owls for any sign of things amiss.  The more we blend in, the less reason the Ministry has to look here."

He glanced towards the bar.  Why or how Forrester had found him, he wasn't sure.  Which, obviously, meant this local was a one-use-only joint.  They'd have to find a new meeting place for the next rendezvous.  He had nothing against the man.  The man just wasn't WBA and had shown no interest in joining.  The Ministry, no doubt, had a healthy purse out on Cinaed's head - the ex-Azzie wasn't in a position to trust anyone who might be in it for their own gain.  It would be best to see to that business before too many other members arrived.  He made his way over to the bar and nodded towards the man. 

"Hello.  Surprised you found me; I'll have to be careful to cover my tracks better next time.  What can I do for you?"

Meredith allowed Cin to take her hand with a slight smile on her painted face. "Whatever you'd like. Certainly you need a pick me up more than anyone else."

Just because she had blue hair and a leather skirt didn't mean she had to forget her manners or how to treat possible business partners or collaborators. Treat the the people who worked with above or under you well. It made everything work so much smoother. And just because they frequently plotted murder, mayhem and destruction didn't mean they couldn't be civil.

The pair were joined by familiar man and an unknown woman. Hopefully they would be joined by more. Meredith knew that her associates weren't always the most loyal bunch, but she would like to see more people band together and reply to Cin's call. Though she supposed on one hand it would make them more conspicuous. Ah well. More time to be spent with the people who were had. 

"Good to see you again," Meredith said to Forrester, giving the man a small smile. If was hard to tell in the low light of a club, but he either didn't recognize her or didn't care.

She glanced back at the other woman and Cin. The bearded man seemed to recognize her. Another Ex-Azzie by the sound. Poor woman. Meredith would have to keep an ear open to hear all the pretty little details Cin was asking about. She made a mental note to recheck the papers for news of the recently released.

She followed Cin to the bar and leaned up against the counter. the blue haired woman flagged down the bartender and ordered four shots of whiskey and four bottles of Greene King beer, one for each of the group, passing the bartender the correct amount of tender was if it was as natural  as wizarding coins.

"Here you are boys and girls," Meredith said, passing out the glasses. "Let's start this thing off properly, shall we?"

She wasn't interested the beer as much as the shot, but being nice to the bartenders and buying drinks would make it easier for them to talk longer without getting looks. Just another happy grungy london foursome. They could pretend it was a double date if they had to.

Meredith smiled at the blond woman when she passed her the alcohol. "Pleasure to meet you. Let me know if you need help settling in."

After Cinaed opened up with surprised you found me, and followed that with a need to cover his tracks James was slightly suspicious.  He knew that the man had gone to ground, but James seemed to be one of the few people to have legitimate business with the man on a somewhat regular basis.  As if James would lose track of anybody who he did business with.  Especially when his business with Cinaed regularly effected his performance on the pitch.  Still, James could tell that though he was not crashing a party...he was neither welcome either.

"I see you are trying to be discrete.  Subtle is not my style - nor is this hive of people that are unable to bathe - so I shall get straight to the purpose.  I have one Gringotts draft here good for a hundred galleons.   I am willing to give that to you now, provided you send me the shepherd's pie recipe either by Owl or some other method.  Once I have received the recipe, I'll send you another hundred.  Do we have a deal?" James asked, wondering what exactly he had stumbled into. 


His musings were cut short when James heard Meredith's voice.  Sudden recognition came to him.  He did not know why a mage would bother with all of that dress-up, especially since she went through the trouble to cover her scar.  James wondered if there he should have done more than cast a couple of simple spells to hide himself.

"Miss Renfield.  I apologize, I did not recognize you," James apologized, somewhat startled that he did not recognize someone he had just met only a couple of weeks before.  His pureblood parents would have cursed him for faux paux that badly, but then again they were in a muggle nightclub so he guessed everyone was somewhat incognito.  Except Cinaed.  But the six-foot bearded man would be hard to miss anywhere. 

Melanthe prided herself in being no slouch when it came to social functions. She liked getting dressed up and being a stand out in a crowd of people. The right people, that is. She preferred to always be seen in her role as one of society's elite.

But there were times when the dark witch knew that she had to look the part in any situation she found herself in. Even if it meant that she had to bring herself down to the level of muggles. The purist in her despised that idea, but knew could sacrifice a bit of her own comfort for the betterment of a cause. In this case, it was the WBA under the helm of her friend,  Cináed Tawse. She was going to support him moreso than anyone else involved as of yet.

Melanthe Grumman was a witch who was very discriminating when it came to tossing her allegiance in with others, but Cin had proven to be worthy of her support, if not through their own personal interactions, then through their connection to mutual friends.

So, even though she didn't enjoy the idea of this whole thing, she had done her best to make sure that she fit in with the situation. She was a quick study and had meticulously researched the role she wished to play. This meant that Melanthe Grumman now looked like a common muggle in a common muggle place.

She was playing the part of the youthful, perky yet very stylishly chic college coed. She was adorned in mostly black -- tight black skinny jeans, black heels, and a simple black shirt. But there was one thing about Melanthe that was not dark in color. Her hair was quite different now as it was both cut short and now very blonde.

She made her way through the swarms of inebriated Londoners, a drink clutched in her slender fingers. She had yet to actually sip from it and had spent most of her time trying to keep the liquid from sloshing all over her as she tried to find Cin and the other WBA members.

Spotting him with a few other individuals at one section of the bar, the newly blonde tressed witch headed over to greet them just as they downed a bunch of shots.

Melanthe practically flounced the last few steps and with feigned giddy-ness she interrupted the tail end of whatever conversation Cin was having with her former Durmstrang classmate, James Forrester, and planted a sloppy kiss on Cin's cheek. "Yayyyy.....I found youuuuu," she crooned. "Have I missed any of the fun yet??"

"You could say that."  Cinaed smiled gratefully at Meredith's wise words.  A pick me up - and the company of comrades and friends - was quite overdue.  "The drink will be very much appreciated." 

Meredith greeted Forrester and Cinaed nodded towards all of them before helping Meredith gather drinks at the bar.  Once back at the table, he would feel out Forrester and the man's answer to Cinaed's inquiries.  It was possible, in light of recent political developments, the man had decided to join the WBA's efforts - that would account for how the man found his way.  If he wasn't; if this was a simple, casual business call of some sort, they could square that business away and carry on with Alliance matters later. 

"Hell, yeah," Cinaed saluted brightly as he raised his shot glass in a crude sort of toast.  His gaze lighted on the newest blond to join their midst as he held his glass aloft.  He considered the woman for a few breaths before recognition dawned and he grinned at her.  "Here's to telling the Ministry where they can stick their fecking Aurors!"  He downed the drink in one mouthful before dropping the empty glass on the table top. 

He then turned his attention back to Forrester, a broad mischievous grin on his face.  "As you've probably guessed by now, we've got some ... questionable dealings to handle this evening.  We obviously need as many supporters as we can get but if you don't want to be involved, it's probably best you take your leave sooner rather than later." 

The shot gone, Cinaed lifted the bottle of beer and took a quick swig.  He was in a good mood and there seemed to be little that would spoil that.  "Two hundred galleons?" Cinaed repeated with an amused snort.  "For a shepherd's pie recipe?  I don't know, my friend.  I know my recent ... change of circumstances ... has put me at a bit of a disadvantage as far as business is concerned.  But I'm not sure I'm so ready to admit defeat that I'm ready to go selling trade secrets just yet.  If it seems inevitable I won't be able to get the Chimaera back up and running then I might be willing to deal.  But, I'm not sure I'm there, yet." 

A sloppy kiss was planted on Cinaed's cheek and the ex-Azzie tilted his head back to offer the giver an appropriately charming greeting in return.  "Good evening, my dear.  The hair suits you."  He reached out to brush his fingers through the Melanthe's short, blond hair.  "You did find me.  And, you'll have to excuse the setting.  Was the best I could come up with on a short-term notice.  And, there's plenty more fun to be had."

He, finally, turned back to Forrester.  "Could life get any better?" Cinaed asked, a cheeky smirk spreading across his face.   

It went without saying that this was not his usual sort of place.

In fact, Landis could think of nowhere he wouldn't rather be. Having to dress down to appease Muggle simpletons was one thing; brushing shoulders with the disgusting lot was another. But he could understand Cinaed's need to connect with like-minded people, his need to make certain of his assets. He would require shelter, someplace to put his child, and all the base necessities that became so difficult to get when one was a wanted criminal, even beyond dealing with the responsibilities that came being the head of the WBA. Landis was not surprised that he'd called for his allies and friends so soon after taking flight, and he had no doubt that many would answer that call. Cinaed commanded the sort of loyalty that went beyond simple organizational hierarchy; the fact that Landis was here, and dressed as he was besides, was testament to that.

He hadn't thought that he'd need polyjuice for this. Now that Cinaed was on the run, and now that the Black Chimaera was no longer a viable base of operations, Landis had thought that maybe it was time to show his face to some of his fellow WBA. Besides, it was a Muggle nightclub, full to the brim of thrumming music and sweating bodies and completely, completely anonymous. No Aurors would find them here, and no wizards, either - only those loyal to Cinaed would have heard of this meeting. And for the way there, and the way back, and to blend in now... well, that's what the clothing was for. And the haircut. Shorn and curling over his cheekbones, it was an annoying length, but his long blonde tresses would be easy enough to restore after this meeting.

Still, in the inside pocket of the jacket a flask nestled against the curve of Landis' side. The potion within was freshly brewed and ready to drink - just in case.

He lounged against the bar, an act of dispassionate ease for the benefit of the crowd (all unwashed, unclean drunken things, but he knew well the power of posture). It wouldn't do to show his discomfort in this den of Muggles, not for something like this and not for those whom he was meeting. Every once and a while he sent a diamond glare towards the closest Muggle who approached, all sneers and icy blue disdain. Whether it was him or the alcohol behind him that they wanted, Landis didn't much care, but it kept the jostling to a minimum.

Now he tilted his head to the side, eyes on Cinaed down the bar talking to a man that he didn't know. Landis didn't even pretend to recognize every member, but he had attended a fair number of WBA meetings in disguise, and given the circumstances he thought it better to wait. A glance in the other direction revealed the women Cinaed had been talking with only moments before, nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd except for the pulsing knowledge of their magical blood. Again came the head tilt, and another scrutinization; the woman with the blue hair looked... familiar.

A moment longer and he had it, the shape of that face in his memory bearing its usual scar. Landis nearly laughed, but instead only pushed away from the bar to approach her.

"Ms. Renfield," he said, sauntering up in the sort of way that the leather jacket practically required. He smiled, thin lips stretching for the barest glimpse of teeth, but it was genuine pleasure that crinkled his blue eyes. "What a pleasant surprise."

Alexandrina was both pleased and relieved to have found the group she was looking for.  Even if they were surrounded by muggles, it still felt nice to be back in good company and surrounded by sensible people who just wanted to fight for a good cause.  Of, course, only the people in her immediate vicinity were that sort, but Alexandrina was trying her best to block out all of the riffraff.

Cináed's warm welcome made her feel even more at ease, and she took his hand and shook it firmly.  "Just a few weeks," she answered.  "And the wand restrictions don't begin to describe the hell I've got to deal with." Though she complained, the tone of her voice was still rather pleasant. " The names's Alexandrina."  She knew better than to give out her surname so soon.

When the blue haired woman returned with the drinks, Alexandrina made no hesitation in grabbing herself a shot of whiskey and threw it back.  Alcohol was always appreciated, especially now that she felt like she really needed it from time to time, and free alcohol is the best kind there is.  As others joined them, she glanced around for familiar faces but saw none, which really came as no surprise.  Her attention did keep returning to the woman with the blue hair.  She couldn't figure out if it was part of her disguise or part of the woman's everyday style.  Alexandrina hoped it was the former.  Kids these days and their bizarre tastes.

Meredith watched the others take to their drinks. Now things could really begin. Alcohol was still a great way to start a meeting. Which made her sounds like a tad bit of an alcoholic. She wasn't- or didn't think she was. She liked a drink with dinner and meetings, but she could go without if she had to. Cigarettes on the other hand were another story.

Meredith smiled when Forrester greeted her, this time with recognition. "It's quite alright," she told him. "At least I know I'm not likely to be recognized, which of course is the entire point. You've been doing well I take it. Apart from apparently missing your.. Shepard's pie was it?"

She glanced back to Cin and then again to Forrester now very interested in their little business deal. Her first instinct had been 'euphemism for illegal potion' but given her conversation with the Quidditch player maybe not. She'd still like to here more. Being in the business of information could turn a girl into such a nosy gossip.

Though of course once the drinks were bought, everyone else showed up. Hmm, maybe she'd by another round later. She'd consider it, depending on how things went from here on out.

Meredith eyes the new woman, trying to place a name to the face. Grumman? Maybe. It really was amazing what a change of hair could do for an appearance, hence why Meredith had gone scar removal and hair dye route. The woman seemed familiar enough with Cin in any case and Meredith gave the woman a smile in greeting. 

At the bearded man's common about life getting any better, Meredith smirked. "Well that's what we're here to find out, isn't it?"

Meredith would certainly be happy to help with that little endeavor, provided there was some suitable payment her end. Which, considering Cin's influence and power, didn't seem like it would be much of a problem. Her very presence today could help business dealings with WBA members drastically.

And then the group was joined by yet another, Landis. He, too, had changed his hair (though he hadn't dyed it) but apparently had forgone polyjuice this evening. Interesting. The woman did however, appreciate the small bit of irony in Landis catching Meredith in a disguise (even slight) instead of the other way around, which is how to two became acquainted in the first place. 

"Landis, good to see you again too," Meredith said to the man. "I'm sorry to say you just missed the first round of drinks, but luckily for you, not much else; we're still in the hello phase. Lovely necklace by the way. I might have to run out and get one of my own."

She ran a restaurant with a Dia De Los Muertos theme. Of course she liked and would automatically zone in on skull accessories. A little bit of macabre never hurt anyone. Much. Which reminded her..There was a recently released Auzzie in their midst. Alexandrina.

"Good to see meet you Alexandra," Meredith said from her seat. ""I'm Meredith Renfield. I own a couple of business in Diagon. Stop by any time."

James was surprised by  Cináed's outright dismissal of his offer.  He strongly suspected that he would have to haggle higher, but he expected some counter offer or  something similar.  Two hundred galleons was a non-trivial amount of money.  Still, James realized he needed to change tactics and venues.  He had strongly suspected between Kabana and the fact that  Cináed had openly housed a thief (albeit a petty one who only stole food) at one point that there was something going on underneath the table.  The fact that  Cináed had refused to run for legitimate office was also a major clue.  Noting all the people coming and going, James decided to make a few quick remarks to those who he knew before exiting stage right. 

Starting towards Melanthe, and  Cináed James intentionally slipped into Russian while addressing the cute witch.  After-all, classmates had to stick together, and keep everyone else in the dark.  Especially about completely trivial subjects.

"Melanthe...it has been far too long.  We need to catch up at a far more...suitable venue.  This places gives me the urge to take a shower." James finished, the Russian rolling off his tongue flawlessly.

Switching back to English, "Life can get better...but that is not what I expected this night to be about.  Still, I shall get to the purpose and out of your hair.  Your reply to my offer tells me that I am not offering the right currency.  Since you seem to have some pressing business and a fair few assembled, I shall try to meet you at a later date.  If you happen to be in Wales though and need some assistance, look me up," James said to the six-foot bearded man.

"Miss Renfield, we shall have to talk another time.  Preferably where people actually know how to use running water.  I apologize for cutting out on such short notice, but Cináed seems to have a business meeting scheduled that does not involve me.  I am sure I will see you again," James said.  Whatever business this fine crew had assembled, James would probably not care until it affected the sports section. 

Nodding to the remaining members of the group, he smiled at each of them before getting up from the table.  He started towards the door.

(((OOC - if one of your characters wants, they can stop James on his way out.  Otherwise this will be James's final post in this thread)))

Muggle London was... beneath him. Plain and simple. He was not wealthy, his family was not prestigious- but damnit, they were pure. It was better than half of what the wizarding world had- and they were proud of it. You didn't need anything other than your family and your reputation. (And the ability to take what you wanted when you wanted it.)

Since Cinaed had been on the run and... distracted... by other things, Dugan had been coming and going as he pleased. Enjoying his new found condition far more than originally expected. But Cinaed was resurfacing, and he had received word of a meeting at a muggle night club. Dugan was not thrilled about location, but at the very least there would be scantily clad women he could make eyes at. Maybe he could toy with them after it was all over. Wreak havoc on a London night club- that would be fun.

The biggest issue had been finding appropriate dress. Which was done by stupefying a human in an alley and stealing his clothes. Dugan owned only wizarding fashion- which wasn't helpful. and the pants he was currently wearing were just far too tight. They were uncomfortable- and the way he walked  showed that.

Dugan single out Cinaed- and those surrounding him- then approached. He gave all of the women a once over- or a twice over, in some cases, definitely liking what he saw. The blonde number was certainly very good looking. how Cinaed managed to attract such fine ladies was beyond Dugan. But it certainly wasn't fair. He nodded in greeting, remaining quiet, crossing arms over his chest as he waited on business to get underway. Dugan was definitely not the brains of the operation. No reason to further prove that.

"It gets easier," Cinaed reassured Alexandrina with a sincere nod.  "The first week's really the hardest.  It never gets easy mind you."  He was speaking not only from his own experiences but from years of observing dozens of other ex-Azzies that came to the Black Chimaera for company, food or housing.  That, of course, was Cinaed's real sense of loss to that pub.  There were few honest to goodness resources that actually helped recent ex-Azzies out there.  Somehow, they'd have to find a way to reestablish that.  "And, there are ways around a wand.  If you need some help, let me know.  I'll do what I can."  Which wasn't what it might have been once upon a time, given his current situation. 

There may come a time when Cinaed was interested in discussing business and bartering recipes.  Now, however, wasn't the time.  The fate of the Black Chimaera and his own business investments were amongst the topics he needed to figure out.  But, until he had all his ducks in a row and everything worked out, he wasn't eager to jump to any premature conclusions.  Selling a recipe might, now, seem small.  But, he needed to take all of this one step at a time. 

A familiar face moved their way through the crowd and Cinaed promptly pushed himself to his feet and extended a warm hand and a broad grin to Landis.  It seemed recent events had encouraged the man to come as himself; it was a testament to the man's dedication that wasn't lost on Cinaed.  "Glad you could make it, friend," he offered before lowering himself into his seat again. 

Settled back around a table tucked into the corner, Cinaed took a sip of his beer as he surveyed the gathering.  Strange to see them all in such a blatantly ... muggle establishment.  To the undiscerning eye, one might think they fit in their own disheveled way.  But, that was a viable hunting strategy, wasn't it?  Disguise yourself, hide yourself amongst the prey and watch them grow complacent.  Allow them to unsuspectingly assist you in their own destruction.  It would almost seem tragic if the prey weren't the weaker, lesser being. 

"Well that's what we're here to find out, isn't it?"

Cinaed grinned broadly at Meredith and tipped his head forward in a single, agreeable nod before rising once more to offer Dugan a hand.  "Good to see you, mate."  Once settled again, he turned back to Meredith once more.  "Yes.  So my friends.  Continuing to see life improve.  For all of us.  And, now that I speak as a father, it's an even more pertinent issue to me."  Slowly, Cinaed surveyed the group of witches and wizards gathered around the table. A club owner, a wealthy socialite, a werewolf and a Hogwarts librarian.  An oddly balanced crew to say the least but, considering where the WBA once had been, it was an unmistakable sign of progress. 

He chuckled to himself and sipped his beer before setting it back down.  "When Manfred and I started with the WBA, we were the sorry-assest looking bunch of ex-cons and former Death Eaters.  There were six of us and we had, maybe, two wands amongst us.  We griped and complained and got drunk and felt sorry for ourselves for letting some revenge-bent halfblood distract us from our main goals.  The Ministry didn't take us seriously but, then, we didn't take ourselves seriously.  But, now.  Things have changed.  The tides are turning.  The Ministry's close to a panic.  We need to avoid making the same mistakes a second time." 

"We are at the point of evolution."  It was the truth; he knew that was the case.  "The assassinations in Level Two, the disappearances, the confusion.  All of these are working to bring about that disorder that change is born from.  Either, that disorder could control us or we can organize and control it.  But, that's what we need.  What we need to do.  Organize.  Develop into who we are and what we want and how we are going to get it.  We started as an alliance - of witches and wizards working together and we need to work together again to move forward.  So.  The question is before us: what do we want?"

He knew what the answer was for himself.  But, he believed sincerely: this was and had to be a group effort.  He, of course, had his own quarrels and targets and motivations.  But, they had to be separate.  The groups efforts couldn't get sidetracked by one man's mission - that had been their big mistake the first time around.