27th November, 1889 — Salem Square, Irvingly

When he’d rescued the baby Runespoor from the clutches of poachers in Africa, it had been startlingly small, half-dead, and unfortunately stupid. Now it was grown and well, and a healthy six feet long, and still, as it happened, remarkably stupid. 

None of its three heads had ever gotten along with one another, which was not unusual for the species, but amongst these three, none was particularly good at its supposed specialty. It wouldn’t have lasted a week back in the wild, poor thing.

Lucky for it that Irvingly was not a wild place, then.

Unlucky for Conall that the Runespoor had figured that much out, and that its heads had banded together for once in their short, stupid lives to go exploring.

It couldn’t have escaped long ago, because it had deposited its snack of a dead mouse along the street, apparently disinclined to eat it. Luckily, it hadn’t set off to try its luck eating any zoo mammals... though less luckily, it looked like it had gone towards the centre of town.

Which was much more humanly populated. If it didn’t go after anyone there, there was every likelihood someone would spot a big orange snake slithering around the place. And if they did, he’d get hauled straight off to the Ministry’s complaints office, no question.

So, better find the Runespoor, and fast. He strode up along the streets, dead mouse held forgotten in hand, surveying the gutters and corners of the street so thoroughly that he hadn’t been looking in front of him at all, an oversight that only struck him when he barrelled right into someone.

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Natsuko did not often go to Irvingly, there was little in the village that held her interest - if she wanted to be around Magical people she stayed in Hogsmeade, if she wanted to be with muggles and magical kindred she went to London - there wasn't much reason for the Japanese heiress to spend any time in the village - except perhaps one. There was a seamstress there who was skilled unlike any other she had managed to find in England.

While she generally bought her kimonos in Japan, visiting once a year to update her wardrobe with the exensive garments or buy bolts of magical silks that could be used for the 'fusion' gowns she occasionally wore - the seamstress in Irvingly had proven herself to be uniquely skilled at mending the delicate garments. That was why she was there today. Ordinarily her maid would be sent to fetch and carry but this repair might change the line of the garment and Natsuko's presence was required to make the repair accurate.

Her kimono today was covered in intricate, enchanted -and very lifelike paintings of crimson snakes on pale creamy silks. It was not her favourite - she didnt like the animal but it was a change, and it had the benefit of warmth on this cold day. She had been treading lightly to avoid the puddles on the path as she transitioned from storefront to carriage when a very sold form barreled into her sending the petite asian woman flying off her feet, and landing hard on her rear in a cascade of cream and crimson silks.

Dignity -rather than derrière were damaged as Natsuko realised exactly what had sent her the ground, a man a good deal older than herself waving around what appeared to be a dead mouse.

'Are you mad?!' she demanded waving her parasol like a wand as though preparing to hex him for knocking her over - although if he was mad he might not be inclined to own it and might not take kindly to be confronted about it.

  

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Gin made something stunning

He’d knocked her clean off her feet, the obstacle in his path. She was only a slight little thing, perfectly turned out like those wealthy sorts were, had been walking deftly and delicately and had most certainly not been expecting to be thrown to the ground.

Conall did not have a great deal of experience with fine young ladies of the upper classes, but he expected that they would be the most graceless of any sort at having been knocked down, and so he was quite unsurprised at her waving her parasol about and accusing him of madness.

He was nevertheless flummoxed enough to stop short and stare at her for a minute, although this was because he’d needed a double take at her dress to understand its design. Crimson snakes were a little on the nose, weren’t they? There was no way in hell she had dressed this morning in anticipation of a snake on the loose in Irvingly.

Not the sort of thing he was planning to remark upon, of course, since he was determined not to mention the runespoor at all if he could help it. So, instead: once he had gathered his wits, Conall stuffed the dead mouse roughly in his jacket pocket, grimaced at her and said, “Afraid not, ma’am.” Not that kind of mad, anyway, and he wouldn’t be vexed unless she made a bigger fuss out of this than needed. Reluctantly, Conall reached out and offered her a calloused hand to pull her up.

If she took that hand, that was. There was still admittedly a whiff of mouse about it.

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It was with some considerable anger that she took the offered hand. The cut of the kimono - tight around her legs, alliowing for only the smallest of steps meant that getting up from a prone position was not easy. While she was well used to arising, elegantly from kneeling making her way from from the flat of her rump was not as easy as it might have been had she been in an English style gown. She managed it as best she could, assisted by her nervous looking maid who had seen Natsuko angry only a few times but it had been a sight to behold when the small Japanese woman brought her full fury to bear. Now it appeared as though this rough gentleman would be getting the worst of it.

'How dare you sir!' she seethed, the dead mouse had not been lost on her, and she drew herself up to her full height (all petite 5,3 of it). 'Do you make a habit of assaulting young ladies in the street!' it might have sounded like a question but Natsuko was absolutely not asking. Suki heard her maid let out a small gasping squek behind her and she presumed it was becauase she was so intimidating that she was cow towing her nervous maid despite not being the focus of her ire.

'Miss' the small voice came from behind her. Natsuko held up a hand for her to wait a moment, she wasn't with the man - and the costly silks of her gown were splashed with mud and debris - he would need to hear about the damage he had done 'but miss!' she continued, Natsuko didnt take her eyes of the man. 'Miss your neck! ' Laura said, with much more insistence, and Natsuko froze, suddenly aware of something moving around the collar of her dress.

  

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Gin made something stunning

She had not accepted his hand in forgiveness, that much was clear. Even on a day where he was not otherwise preoccupied, Conall was not the sort of man to waste time and effort prostrating himself on a stranger’s behalf, whether or not that stranger was a well-to-do lady who expect such things of the world. She had had trouble enough getting back to her feet even with his help, however, and Conall might have gotten around to offering a succinct apology, if she had not already progressed to seething at him.

And he had not seen something that alarmed him. Some six foot scaled something, using her brief contact with the floor to find opportunity to begin twisting itself up around her, and one of its three heads now nosing curiously about her neck.

Do you make a habit of assaulting young ladies in the street!, she was busy exclaiming. “Not me, ma’am,” Conall said sharply, the emphasis a warning - as discreet a warning as he could make it without explaining the bloody great snake to her outright; the Runespoor had been attracted to the colourful pattern on her clothes, no doubt, but if she took it upon herself to screech again, it may well begin to get annoyed by her. And then things would get much worse.

The maid was warning her mistress a little more shrilly, but Conall held up the palm of his hand in an attempt to quiet them both, hoping against hope that they would understand the meaning of it and not merely be offended by the rudeness. “I’d stay still if I were you,” he muttered roughly, hoping she stay frozen and not glance down at what was moving on her in case she made this worse than it had to be. He moved his hand nearer to her neck, not entirely convinced whether the woman or the creature would be the less affronted by the action.

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'sss..ssss...snake Miss' the maid whimpered wobblingly, and Natsuko froze - the mans quiet tone doing more to terrify her than the apparent snake around her neck. It would serve her right that when she allowed her mask to slip it would endanger her life. Natsuko's temper was usually one of cold fury, disdain rather than vitriol and sure enough - today, when her temper had gotten the better of her it was probably karmic that she might get killed for it.

Her maids trembling had turned to whimpering and sobs, fearful that her livlihood was about to be eaten by a giant snake. 'Sir' Natsuko ventured, her tone suitably chastened, 'Consider my forgiveness well and truely earned if you manage to prevent my untimely demise on a street corner' she said, trying to keep her tone even and avoid moving her throat as much as possible. Now however, she could feel the coils through the thick layers of her clothing in a way that she hadn't been able to before. 'In fact...' she swallowed and her eyes fluttered closed almost anticipating the pierce of fangs at her throat 'I would be very much i your debt....'

  

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Gin made something stunning

Honestly, Conall didn’t think her hostility would have turned to forgiveness quite as quickly if she had realised that the snake that had slipped about her neck being here was his fault. But, naturally, she didn’t have a great deal of breathing room to think, and her first priority was evidently not dying. (A sensible priority to have.)

“I’ll do my best,” Conall muttered. He ventured his hand, slowly, carefully, nearer to the orange snakeskin at her neck, hoping to slip his hand in between it and her so that it would not be able to constrict her throat if it made a move now. It was the right head, or the leftmost from his vantagepoint - if only he were able to see the heads (they had ducked down under her collar; he could see the snake writhing now, picking up in pace as though it had new purpose) - that was the planner, after all. “I’m going to grab it, and pull,” he murmured in her ear in warning, waiting for his moment; “but it’s got three heads. Only one’s dangerous. Don’t let the right one near you if you can help it.” With that, he reached under her collar, gripped what he could reach of the creature with both hands, and pulled forcefully, trying to tug it all the way off her and out.

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As his hand slipped closer to her neck to try and separate the creature from her, she took a deep breath, and upon letting it out she tried to force her shoulders to drop. The nature of the high collar of her garment meant the arch of her pale neck was put on better display as she dropped her shoulders, hopefully allowing the stranger to place his hands so intimately near her throat. She was presuming that this man wasn’t going to suddenly wrap his hands around her throat and murder her.

Natsukos maid, a nervous girl of 17 and she was standing close by nervously clutching her pinafore as though she herself was in danger somehow from the creature wrapped around her mistresses neck. Ordinarily Natsuko would have snapped at the girl to steady her nerve, to silence her sniveling and stop making Natsukos danger all about her. If she had had any presence of mind she might have realized the ridiculousness of concerning herself with her maids whimpers when she herself was in no small amount of peril.

As he explained that it had 3 heads, she fought back a slightly hysterical scream at the prospect of what, to her untrained ears, sounded like she had 3 snakes inside her dress. The man was very close to her, his hands venturing to places that no gentleman had ever gone before. That alone would have been enough to make her scream, but the sudden feel of the snake coiling and uncoiling as he fought with the head.

In terror Natsuko threw herself away from the man and heard the sound of fabric ripping and felt the shoulder of her gown give way, as cold air hit her shoulder. She gave another scream and her hands came up to protect her dignity.

  

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Gin made something stunning

He could feel her tension before he’d so much as touched her, which Conall supposed, distantly, he could understand - there was an exotic snake in close contact with her, most Irvingly folk would be unnerved - but on a practical level, this would be a great deal easier for everyone if she relaxed.

Instead, she panicked, which startled Conall and the creature in equal measure, although he supposed it did make the snake’s exit that much swifter. Ordinarily, that ripping sound of fabric wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest, but here the clothes were not his, were decidedly more expensive, and belonged to a posh young lady who’d not take kindly to showing off her shoulders to the world, let alone anything more.

“Calm down, it’s out,” Conall protested, his eyes resolutely lowered to the snake as he stepped backwards to carry it out of reach of her, dangling it in the air from its tail so its three heads tangled about each other in confusion. The last thing he needed here was for anyone to make more of a scene. (The screaming had been bad enough; next thing he’d hear was that Irvingly thought he was going about assaulting young ladies. And letting snakes loose on the streets.)

Hurriedly, he tossed the dead mouse from his pocket on the ground to occupy them, and then chanced a ginger glance her way. “You’re alright, though?” He asked urgently, “besides your - er -” wardrobe malfunction.

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Natsuko gave a shuddering squel as she realised she had been able to take several steps away from the man and his blasted snake. Her shoulders raised into her neckline, it felt as though it was still there, she doubted she would ever feel free of it.

’oh Miss!’ her maid reacted quickly and threw her own cloak over Natsuko’s shoulders. She would have preferred if the girl had actually used that expensive domestic magic course Natsuko had paid to send her on and fixed the garment but these were trying circumstances and she could be forgiven for not having a cool enough head to remember to use her wand. After all, Natsuko herself had not been able to remember and her own wand skills were superior to even the young maids.

She struggled to regain her composure, ripped dress aside she straightened her back and smoothed one side of her hair with the hand that was not holding the cloak in place. ’thank you Mister…’ she paused for his name, if only so later, when she was deciding if she was annoyed, amused, or grateful she might know who was to blame/praise.

Conall MacKay - one more and end it?

  

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Gin made something stunning

She hadn’t answered his question, which Conall took for ‘I’m so offended I shouldn’t tell you if I weren’t alright, even if I weren’t’, but what did it really matter? She was still on her feet, clothes could be fixed, the Runespoor hadn’t bitten her head off.

(He almost wouldn’t have blamed it if one of the heads had. She was a bit of a screecher, wasn’t she?)

So Conall, skeptic as he was, was sincerely quite startled when the next words out of her mouth were thank you. “Oh,” he muttered, “MacKay.” Merlin help him if she reported him to anyone... and she didn’t even know that the Runespoor on the loose had been his fault in the first place, Jesus. Probably wouldn’t have been thanking him if she did. “I’ll let you get on then, Miss,” he said with a hasty nod, and then gestured down at the giant snake, “- and I’ll take care of this.”

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