[mp] seeing signs. [torr]

July 2003

Nessa been having a rather relaxed afternoon, a few customers but nothing the sales associate couldn't handle, so she had decided to catch up on current events over a cup of tea. She's excused herself (meaning she just left, since she was in charge) and sat out at one of the iron patio tables on the outside deck of the shop. She'd brought a glass of tea, a little whiskey added to it because why not, and the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. She'd rolled over the nonsense that was ongoing with the Swedish ministry, the announcement of a summer camp focussed on science and creativity, and found herself reading about the British ministry instead. Her eyes scanned the article, having always been able to speed read and retain nearly one hundred percent of what she read the intelligent with absorbed the article quickly. Of course, that didn't stop her from reading it twice over to make sure that what she was seeing was actually there on the page. Carrick's office had been mentioned, members of his team were missing, Nessa set down her tea and wished it away with a bit of magic and flick of her hand.

She hadn't spoken to Carrick in months probably, longer than her other siblings, and she was a little worried. Before she could even wrap the newspaper back into a rolled bundle she was pushing away from the table and heading back inside. She told one of her younger, up and coming cousins, that they were in charge and tossed them a set of keys to lock up in case she was gone a while. Pointy heels clacked against the cobblestones as Nessa hurried over to Torrence's shop from her own. Her lacey black dress clung to her body as she apparated from Cork to Dublin in the blink of an eye and pushed through the crowd with very little sensitivity for those in her way. Nessa was blinded by her own curiosity, her worry, and her need for answers.

Opening the door to the potions shop she saw there was only one customer and she scowled at them. She saw they already had a wrapped up package and a reciept but they were browsing and she had no time for it. "Leave, please." She said sternly, following it with what she honestly thought was enough manners to make up for her lack of social tact. She found Torrence where he was and unrolled the paper to set it down in front of him. "Have you read this?" She asked, her voice strong and solid as she leaned up against the wall closest to her.

@Torrence Regan

It was a usual day in his Dublin shop. The heat from the cauldrons made him sweat a little, notes from clients scattered about, observations on his potion experiments scribbled into journals lying next to each cauldron, Torr dressed in all black with heavy boots. The girl in the front ringing up the odd customer who came in for the more 'commercial' potions he offered. The ones the ministry thought was all he sold.

He was babysitting several cauldrons bubbling grimly in the back workshop while the girl upfront rang up a customer. He could hear them chatting, the shuffle of feet, the creaking of floorboards and he sighed. He was bored and while his work kept him busy, it wasn't as interesting as it used to be. It was a double-edged sword that he was so busy with new orders, all of them dark and twisted just like his customers. He would be disgusted by it if he knew he wasn't rotten just like they were. They were all alike in that way, himself included.

He glanced up when he heard a familiar voice and casting one last glance at the cauldrons, he took a step towards the front before Nessa found him in the back workroom. "Hello to you too," he said in greeting to his sister, his gaze flicking down to the newspaper that she had set down on the counter. "Swedish ministry happenings?" he asked sarcastically. "No, can't say I care about foreign government too much."

"Yes, hello, hello," The Regan witch waved off his greeting with the shake of her head. Usually, she was much friendlier to Torrence anyway, but today she was in a bit of a huff, and she felt unbalanced. Nessa hated feeling out of control like she didn't know what was going on, and this situation made her feel that way. She felt like Carrick must have been keeping secrets, or worse (and more likely), the Ministry was using him as a scapegoat for some internal fuck up, and she wouldn't have that.

"No, not the Swedish nonsense," Nessa snapped back at him quickly as she flipped the page over to the story about their brother. She tapped her pointed finger on it, the little flecks of gold and green on her black nails glimmering in the light of his workshop.  Taking a beat, and breathing in, she managed to tear her eyes from the page and look Torr over for a moment. Her eyes moved from him to gaze across his shop. Torrence was the real pioneer in the family; he had the passion and the skill for it; she just did it as a means to further her other exploits. She had always admired his expertise in the subject, his drive, even if she didn't much care for the sorts of potions he made.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" The dark witch asked as she tapped her boot on the floor a little.

He smirked as she corrected her greeting to him, not that he cared much really, but it was always fun to poke at his sister. Plus, she seemed flustered today so the opportunity seemed ripe for the picking. He couldn't resist. He leaned back as she snapped the paper over and pointed, he sighed as if this were the most arduous task and he started reading, one hand propping himself up on the counter as his cobalt blue eyes scanned the type. He got distracted at first by the witch who was in the moving photo for the perfume ad, noticing the line of her full lips and wondering if she was a model he had met before. She looked vaguely familiar.

Nessa's question interrupted him and he flicked his eyes up to her. "Him who?" he asked before he started reading again. "Oh Carrick?" he said, catching on. He rolled his eyes and gave a heavier sigh this time. He didn't care for his older brother and the feeling was mutual. The only reason he kept reading the article was because Ness almost seemed.. concerned?

"Months ago? At Nan's birthday probably? We don't really keep in touch, Ness," he told her, sarcasm dripping from his voice. That was the understatement of the year if there ever was one. "Why do you even care?" he asked, shoving away the paper and pulling a notebook back towards him that had scribbles of notes on it. "Maybe he just didn't want to talk to the press."

Nessa wrinkled her nose up at Torrence's obvious disdain for their other brother. She knew the two had never really seen eye to eye, and it wasn't like she felt any different about their elder brother, but still. If she was ever asked to pick between her siblings it would be Torr first, easily, she wouldn't even bat an eye in thought before picking him, but Carrick was still her brother. And if he was getting into trouble then that would mean trouble for the rest of them. And that was something Nessa really could not have, especially not right now. She had quite a few cauldrons bubbling, so to speak, and she couldn't have the Ministry asking questions about the brother she barely spoke to and sticking their nose in her business. She had to assume Torrence would at least feel the same in that manner, as her dark eyes peered about the back of his shop, figuring at least one of these projects was less than legal.

"Same," she breathed with a disappointed, but not entirely surprised, hmmph sound escaping her lips. Checking the counter she was about to lean up against for any residue that might stain her dress first the Dark witch relaxed against the surface a little. Her face, however, was far from relaxed. "Well, I care because if he's gone missing, and his team too, how long before Aurors start asking his next of kin questions?" She took another dramatic look around his shop and then folded her arms in front of her.

"And I can't have that, I doubt are you keen on the Ministry nosing about here?"

Glancing over at her as she examined his counter before leaning against it, he smirked. He wasn't a neat freak, but his shop was pretty well maintained. It didn't do to have mess, particularly around the kind of volatile potions he dealt with. Torr was sure his standards weren't as high as his sister's though, but with her, he didn't mind much. His amused expression fell slowly and his brows furrowed as he thought of the implications from this. "Shit," he cursed under his breath as he dragged the paper back towards him and scanned it again, this time paying more attention.

"Fucking Carrick," he cursed as his cobalt blue eyes went left to right in the scanning pattern. "So what? You think he's just avoiding the press or you think he might be.. missing?" he asked as he threw the paper away again, this time in disgust. Torr crossed his arms in front of him and leveled a look at her. Of course, he didn't want the Ministry nosing into his business. His clients paid him very well for his discretion so he couldn't really afford that sort of mark against his professional reputation.

"Think Gia has heard from him lately? Maybe we check with her?" he suggested. Torr knew the smartest course of action would be to check in on Carrick himself and make sure his stick-up-the-ass of a brother was alive and kicking and just laying low with all this heat, but he would do anything to avoid even that minimal interaction with his older brother.

His cursing made her grin a little, not because she was excited about the predicament they were finding themselves in, but because Nessa loved it when she caught on to things faster than others. Torrence was probably the smartest wizard she knew; she'd basically grown up in his shadow, so when Nessa figured something out before he did, she made sure to mark the date. The dark witches smirk faded quickly though, they didn't have time for smiles, they had things to do.

"Precisely," she replied as he cursed their brother's name and gave him a sharp nod. And everyone thought they were the bad seeds, no one would have expected it to be the Auror oldest brother who brought the law down on them. "Either way, I'd rather they don't come here looking for him. Or to the shop in Cork." Her stern voice never waivered as she declared her thoughts. Sister or not, she didn't particularly care where Carrick was, so long as the ministry stayed out of her business.

"We could do that..." Nessa said, letting her full weight rest against the counter as her eyes flicked down to her pointed nails. "Or, we could go straight to the source?" The witch offered as she turned her eyes back up to him. Nessa rarely spoke to her siblings, Torrence more than the others, but she wasn't exactly caught up in the family newsletter. She was obsessive in her projects, she had little time for social adventures. And she had already popped in unannounced and accosted one of her siblings, that was enough for one day.

"What do you want to do?" She asked sharply, giving up control, which was unlike her. Torr was the only person she ever gave up the lead to.

He nodded in agreement, peeved that his fucking brother would be the one to ruin his rep and interrupt his work. Of course it would be Carrick. It was like the universe was out to screw him over and Carrick was the one to wield the wand. It was safe to say that he didn't want the Ministry poking around in his business, not that he wasn't prepared for it, but it was a hassle to have to hide all the less than legal bits.

"So we have to find him first," he summed up. If Carrick was missing, they needed to find him first before the Ministry dug in and tried to rescue their annoying brother. He shoved the paper away angrily and turned towards his workbench, giving her his back as he debated. He really didn't want to stop what he was doing just to go play hide and seek with Carrick and who knew really what they were walking into, but what choice did he have. He couldn't let this blow back on him, or Nessa.

Torr pushed away from the bench and snapped a black leather jacket from a tall stool nearby and shrugged into it as he nodded toward the door. "Straight to the source, it is," he decided as he set all of his cauldrons to simmer or off depending on the potion then shouldered his way through the door and out to the back alley where they were free of the wards he had set up in the shop so they could apparate.

"Where does he live again?" he asked, annoyed as he offered her his hand so they could apparate together. He clearly wasn't one to drop by for Sunday dinners with his brother and he couldn't remember ever stepping foot at his brother's place. He glanced over at Nessa to see if she knew.

"You really have never been there, have you?" Nessa asked with a smug look, watching her brother as they reached the alley behind his shop. Shaking her head at him as if she was judging, even though she wasn't shocked, the Regan witch held out her hand. "Hold on," She commanded before apparating the pair of them to the wizard's book shop five minutes from Carricks London flat. It was a muggle neighborhood, but the shop was hidden in plain sight, making it easy enough to travel. "It's just around the corner," Nessa informed her brother as she zipped her black jacket closed and headed for the door.

"Think he got those poor bastards killed?" She mused as they began to walk in the direction of Carrick's old stone building. Carrick was by far the noblest of their siblings; he was a good apple, some might say, so Nessa doubted he had suddenly gone rogue, but that didn't mean he couldn't have made a mistake. "Grandmother will never look at him the same," She clicked her teeth even sarcastically and shook her head.

"Do I look like I fucking hang out with him on weekends?" he muttered as he caught her haughty look. Merlin, if he never had to speak to Carrick again, it would be a good thing. Torr sucked in a breath and held it before she apparated them away, reappearing in a neighborhood Torr wanted to leave immediately. Of course, Carrick would live somewhere he hated.

The Regan smirked as his thick black boots hit the pavement as he followed Nessa's lead to Carrick's flat. "Probably," he mused. "Sounds like something he would do just to get a promotion," he added before they got to the door and Torr checked the perimeter for wards. Standard stuff, easy to break when all the Regans used the same spells. They were inside moments later. "Guess you're gonna be granny's new favorite," he said sarcastically. "Good luck with that."

Torr glanced around. It was neat, sparse, and smelled clean. Of course, his perfect brother kept a perfect flat. It was so annoying. He stomped around the living room, calling out things to Nessa as he noticed them. "Daily Prophet is from last week." He nudged it a bit and a corner of his mouth tilted up. "Look's like the git couldn't remember that the common antidote to most potions is 'bezoar'" he added, tapping the unfinished crossword puzzle that was lying open. He was about to swing open the fridge when he heard a noise at the front door.

His wand was at the ready in less than a second as he pulled Nessa into the bedroom and toed the door almost shut, pushing her behind him as he listened carefully. He could hear murmurs outside the door, two people, neither sounded like Carrick. Torr glanced at Nessa, half wanting to get her out of her, half wanting to stay to see who dare to break in to a Regan's place.. besides the Regans themselves that is.

Nessa shrugged silently, realizing Torrence's hate for their brother needed no assistance, and continued into the apartment. The idea of being their grandmother's favorite was a sobering one, though, and Nessa became even more dedicated to figuring out where the hell Carrick went off to. Nessa was too busy to have their gran sticking her decrepit nose into her business. They needed to get the golden boy back. "Vocab was never his strong suit," She answered with a snarky little laugh and flipped through the mail organized neatly by the front door. While most of it was nonsense, the fact that Carrick was subscribed to Witch Weekly was a dark little secret she decided to keep in her back pocket.

Moving through the perfect apartment, she noticed there were no pictures on the walls. No family photos or pictures of his old girlfriends; Carrick had had some of those, hadn't he? Nessa turned to Torrence to comment on it when she heard the footsteps and caught the look in her brother's eye. In a flash, he swept them both into the bedroom, and she was whispering for him to be quiet. Torrence pushed her behind him, and she made a fuss about it silently before settling to hear the men who had broken in.

Tapping Torrence on the shoulder so that he would look at her, she mouthed the word "Ministry?" at him. Without much to go on, Nessa assumed the worst; this was either his bosses coming to collect evidence or whoever took him coming to clean up the mess. The footsteps got closer as one said, "I'll check the bedroom. He must have hidden it somewhere," And Nessa squeezed Torrence's shoulder tightly.

[out]

He smirked at her snarky laugh and nodded. "Yeah, what an idiot," he said before he shoved the paper away with his wand and continued to look about. The trash in the bin looked days, if not weeks old, judging by the smell and the faint tinge of mold. He didn't even like Carrick.. but he got this feeling in the pit of his stomach. And usually that was a gut feeling that something went wrong. If his brother brought down hell on him and Ness just because he couldn't keep his nose clean, he was going to be in a world of hurt once Torr found him. If he found him..

Torr glared down at his sister as she tried to fight him when he pushed her behind him. Really. Like this was the time to assert whatever dominance she thought she had. He gave her a sharp look before she quieted and he picked up the sounds of two people. Heavy footsteps. Probably both men. He saw the word she mouthed at him and he shrugged one shoulder, his whole body taut and tense, ready to spring at any moment.

Shit. Torr cursed silently as he head footsteps come closer. There was nowhere to hide in Carrick's spartan bedroom and it's not like he had an invisibility cloak in his back pocket. He felt Nessa's hand squeeze his shoulder and he acted more than thought. He was apparating them away a moment later, into the ether they went, and away from whoever was breaking into their brother's apartment, searching for whatever their brother had hidden.

/out