Finding Calley

[Anastasia]

"Good odds, or a network. It is a city, it's not impossible," Kaja says lowly, "My scimitars are starting to itch."

[Nephrite]

"I don't think we need to terrify them yet." Moore says. "Let's just play along a little longer. If he keeps following us, I'm going to teleport over right next to him -- just be ready to grab him."

[Anastasia]

Down the streets - two more before the young man simply ducks away, out of sight.

[Nephrite]

"Hmm..." Moore continues along his way. "If it's a network, I have to wonder why they use different people. Maybe it's to try and not seem suspicious?"

[Anastasia]

"No idea," Kaja says, "Let's keep going, I'd rather not be arrested, regardless, for violence."

[Nephrite]

Moore just laughs quietly as he continues along. "I'll make sure you don't get into any trouble."

[Anastasia]

From there, no more signs of being followed. Out the west gate of the city, into unincorporated territory. Small farms and large manor homes seem to be the norm, your address taking you to one out here. A rather nice manor, well kept and large.

[Nephrite]

"Hm... a friend holding them up out of public view?" Moore ventures as he flies towards the main entrance.

[Anastasia]

The main entrance is reached without difficulty.

"Might be," Kaja says as you knock. The door opens a few moments later by a young man, no more than 20 years old. He's lean and a bit sour faced, but gives you a look, "Can I help you?"

[Nephrite]

"Hello. My name is Moore, this is Kaja. We'd like to speak to Miss Anna about Calley, please." Moore says, offering a smile.

[Anastasia]

"Yeah, sure, come on in," he says, standing aside.

[Nephrite]

"Thank you." He says with a nod as he goes inside.

[Anastasia]

You're lead inside - it's nice here, a mansion with all that entails. As you head down a hallway, suddenly a stiff wind blows. "Oh yeah, Calley's playing," the man says. "With the weather this time."

[Nephrite]

"It's important to experiment." Moore concurs.

[Anastasia]

Ahead is a room, a large living room. A blonde child, perhaps six or so years old, flies around. Winds blow, sending everything around, as squalls of rain splatter the room.

An older woman, middle aged perhaps, chases him. She looks...rather like Sylvie, if older and wearier, calling, "Calley, come back here, no weather manipulation in the house!"