Date: 2017-10-11 06:49 pm (UTC)
shadowandsnark: (01: damnit toby)
He'd been in the common area of the Mission police station for nearly two hours now, and the itch of all the metal was getting to him. His only boon was that the modern police did not use iron bars any longer.

The press of mortal bodies was its own torment as well, though the cait sidhe tended to spend more time with the mortals than other pure blood fae. Still, the fellow who insisted on cleaning his toe nails and the lady who felt Shakespeare should be an opera, and was singing so off key it should count as assault, did little for his patience.

Tybalt half-wished he had one of those cellphones merely to have the excuse to call May or Quentin with an update. Seeing as how May had been the one to send him here though, it would put lie to the excuse, making the gesture pointless and shameful. Not that he had a cellphone to use in the first place.

Finally Toby was there, and alive and well, and, oh sweet Maeve, they could leave this place now.
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Tybault

September 2020

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