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Not directly, no.

[He just knows that when Marcel's asking for people to be escorted on behalf of a friend, he doesn't do that for just anyone.]

But my husband works for Marcel Gerard.

Someone acquainted with Donna. You're taking me straight to Freya Mikaelson?

( He asks, ready to open whatever car door is nearest. Let's get the show on the road. )

Yep.

[And with that they will hop into the car and drive right through to the French Quarter. As promised, there are beignet shenanigans afoot, and the various factions are setting up their booths and kiosks to participate. Harvey will see Aiden give a friendly honk hello to a couple of bayou wolves, as well as Malia, who is eagerly awaiting samples.

Food is good. She intends to enjoy it.

But, he pulls to a stop in front of Rosseau's, and nods to the door.]

Freya's inside. When you're done, I'll drop you off at your hotel.

( It's a scene. Donna wasn't exaggerating about the ... adorability of it all. It's quaint, if ... saccharine. )

Werewolf and Uber.

( The wolves in Nola are multitalented.

Ignore Harvey, Aiden.

He gets out of the car, gives Rousseau's the once-over, buttons his suit coat and walks inside. )

[The inside is fairly busy for an afternoon, considering a good chunk of the clientele tends to be nocturnal, but they also have a few more tourists than usual, what with the festival happening right outside their doors. The some are just idle humans, finishing their lunch, others are witches, werewolves and vampires, lingering and enjoying time with their community.

It's likely odd, given how segmented other portions of the world tend to be, how freely the factions mix and mingle with each other, but it's credit to the years of work that Josh, Davina and Hayley have put in to soothe old wounds.

Several do glance Harvey's way as he enters, looking slightly out of place in his suit among the more casually dressed. Did Freya surround herself in safety because she doesn't trust Harvey, or is she simply flexing her connections? The world may never know.

The witch in question is leaning against the kitchen door, chatting with another witch with a drink in hand. She also turns at the sound of the door, and straightens when she sees him. Seems that she too, knows how to Google.]

( Freya cannot be Googled (4), so the array of tourists and locals doesn't give Harvey a leg up on who he might be meeting, but instead, he perches at the bar and orders a scotch. )

[That's okay, she's pretty good at introducing herself. She pushes away from the wall, moving to stand at the bar next to him and orders herself a refill.]

Down here, most usually drink bourbon.

[Of the whiskeys, that is.]

I'm not from down here. This is actually my first time.

( Is this Freya? )

You wouldn't happen to be Freya, would you?

I am.

[Because what reason would she have to hide it? The hubris that comes with the very powerful and the very old.]

Welcome to New Orleans, Mr. Specter. Shall we sit?

( They relocate to one of the booths further from the bar, and far enough from the high tops that their conversation doesn't travel.

He produces the damnium essentia from the shoulder bag he's brought, setting it out in front of her. )

[Her head tips to the side curiously, carefully reaching for it, and studying it curiously.]

It's been a long time since I've seen one of these. Especially one that's so new.

[New, but not unused. Magic swirls under the surface, so whoever created it has clearly been hard at work.]

Where did you get it?

A client of mine, and they got it from your every day average hunter who used it on a Bennett witch.

( He tries to give just enough information to leave David out of it if he has to. )

[Her interest does peak at Bonnie, but she doesn't mention it for now. She's not trying to put Harvey's client in a difficult position.]

Does that witch need help getting her magic back? Or is there something else you need from me?

[She places it back down in the center of the table, raising an eyebrow curiously.]

She has her magic back. But, my client believes someone in such a low tier of - Tamara Monroe's outfit shouldn't have gotten their hands on something that ancient.

( He let's ancient fall out of his mouth knowing the magic is ancient, but the object itself isn't. If Freya can, she can prove her worth and notice that, too. )

The spell you mean. This lovely little artifact is less than six months old.

[Come on, Harvey, ask her a hard question. It'll be fun.]

But I think you already knew that.

[The door opens behind them, and a few more new faces filter into the room. They take seats in the booths and by the bar, and Freya doesn't recognize them, but she doesn't pay them much mind beyond noticing they're there.

This conversation is more important.]

Bonnie also isn't the only witch it was used on. There's maybe five or six other magical signatures swirling around inside.

Yes. The spell.

( How else can he gauge. As a lawyer with a (6) would anything look out of the ordinary? )

Then you know only someone with a specialized knowledge could create it. And that someone has an in inside Tamara Monroe's army. ...A very low-brow in. Do you know where the spell originates?

( Because he does! )

[Not as far as Harvey is concerned. They may as well be tourists for all he can tell. But there certainly are a lot of them.]

Well, like most things dark and twisted in this world, my family is tangentially related. When I was a teenager, we were living near what's now known as the Knightsbridge coven. They were looking for something they could use to ... take care of problematic witches, and reached out to Dahlia as this wasn't exactly their area of expertise.

[White hat witches don't know how to punish their own but don't want to get their own hands dirty in the process. She's heard it all before. She's about to continue when the door opens again, but this time, who walks through holds her attention. Mostly because he's not supposed to be there.]

Scott?

[Perception check, Harvey.

In the meantime, Freya gets up as he comes closer.]

I thought you were supposed to be on a date.

( Tour groups... happen. But, there are more pressing concerns. )

Dahlia.

( An (11) rings a hollow bell, one he's heard of but has never defined for himself.

"Freya. Davina never made it. I thought maybe she stopped here first, or maybe she called. Witch business?"

(15) for Harvey's perception check as he ignores the twenty-something who tracked Freya down. )

[Harvey notices that some of those people he dismissed as tourists earlier are now sitting up and paying attention. They're bracing themselves in the corners, and almost all of them are looking at Freya and Scott.

And Freya notices too. Her eyes aren't looking at Scott directly, but around him as she speaks.]

No, she would have asked Vincent to cover it. She's been looking forward to this all week.

[She swallows and then glances back to Harvey. Then back to Scott.]

Aiden still outside?

Right. Aiden, if you can hear us, we're about to have a situation.

( If that will help, anyway. Harvey pockets the damnum essentia, standing up, eyeing what's about to happen. )

All eyes on Freya and Scott.

( Sounds like Aiden knows them. )

Stay outside.

[Outside, Aiden and Malia are both perking up, because they know who's inside, and they know what they've been waiting for since Scott and Allison arrived in New Orleans. As Freya gives the order, the vampires and wolves that are in the bar straighten to attention, eyes landing on all the tourists in question.

A pair of the tourists step in front of the door, blocking any exits, and the rest of them stand at attention, starting a stare down with the various supernaturals in the bar.]

I'm sorry, Mr. Specter. I think you picked the wrong day to visit New Orleans.

["Freya Mikaelson," one of the hunters steps forward, posturing. "I assume you know why you're here."]

I do.

[She smiles, one of those dangerous, Mikaelson smiles that aren't a smile but more of a threat. A sign that you should run.]

I was having a drink with a colleague. Though I assume that you're here to what? Make an example of me to my brothers?

["Make an example of you all. Show this real residents of this town that they can break free from the strangle hold you have on this city."

Freya steps forward, moving in front of Scott and standing tall.]

If you're going to try and help me see the light and find Jesus, I have to say, you're about a thousand years too late. I was a Viking, in case you forgot.

And, from what I've observed, ( Harvey says, stepping up. ) that stranglehold has been the best thing to happen to New Orleans' economy. Not to mention, you're the one opting into a fight that would waste tax dollars if you ask me.

( The aforementioned Mr. Specter.

Scott also steps forward.

"You're trying to make an example of us in the one bar where everyone is welcome? Stand down. Don't do it like this." (16) with his conviction to persuade the asshat. )

["Whatever economic benefits may exist were paid for with the blood of innocents. But I wouldn't expect a person like you to understand that, if you intend to defend a den of murderers."

The appointed leader doesn't know who Harvey is (9), but he doesn't particularly care. There's a kind of conviction that shines in his eyes that makes him immune to even Scott's well-intentioned pleas (20). Whatever he came to do, there is no persuading, there is no breaking.

He shifts and his coat falls open, revealing the device underneath strapped to his chest. He lifts his hand, and Freya spots the kill switch waiting to be pressed. She scans her eyes over the other hunters and they're all wearing similar devices.

She isn't the only one who sees it. Some of the vamps, witches and werewolves pick up on it too. The air in the room twists a little tighter, and Freya knows it's about to snap. She just has to hope that they're all faster.]

Kitchen now!

[And with that, everything snaps into action.

A vampire charges forward and takes the head off the leader (20), ready to defend their bar as best he can. A werewolf (19) and a witch (14) take out two in the back corner of the room. And, behind the bar, a pair of wolves (11, 10) manage to wrestle two more to the ground, trying to force their hands away from the trigger.

But there are too many (5, 2, 5, 2, 4), and Freya can see as half of those not trying to escape back to the kitchen lose the upper hand on their attackers. A stake in two of the vampires, a broken beer bottle into the neck of a witch, severed heads in two wolves.

And five remaining bombs is enough to do what they came to do.

Scott (4) and Harvey (11) start scrambling backwards, but it's not fast enough. Fortunately for them, Freya is faster (15). Her hands fly through the air, already chanting, trying to buy as much time as she can for those fleeing to make it into the kitchen.

In some ways, it seems like the fireball forms in slow motion, starting in the middle of the room and expanding outwards. The bar goes first pieces of wood flying outwards, and one of them catching Scott in the gut as he manages to slide past the line of the barrier spell Freya is weaving. She knows from the number of bombs that this isn't just the bar they're going to take out, it's the businesses on either side, the people in the streets.

The collateral damage would be massive. And Freya would like to believe she's better than that. She manages to hold the spell, contain the blast, try to force it upwards and she does succeed (20), but she won't be able to hold it for long.

Blood slips past her nose, and one of the witches who managed to make it to safety presses up, placing a hand against her back and trying to help her.]

Edited 2021-11-29 05:32 (UTC)

( Harvey Specter has been in the line of legal fire before, and in general danger, but not in the face of bomb-toting crazies. He knows the line between human and supernatural has been drawn and redrawn but he has only seen the corporate side to it, the world Donna and his other clients have opened up to him. But, Harvey does not quit and his self preservation kicks in, making it within the bounds of the spell.

Scott's closer to the blast having taken that step closer. He tries to save who he can and gets wood through the chest for his efforts. If Harvey can, being out of the blast radius, once he sees Freya is faltering, he tries his best to be there to catch her if she collapses (3)... )

[A few more witches join the chain, Vincent included, and they manage to hold until the fire smolders, and the weight of the blast fades away. Freya's hands drop, she falters, and she very much does pass out, dropping like dead weight back into the man behind her.

The force of it is enough to knock him off balance and to the floor, but at least he scavenges something of a gentlemanly moment.

Vincent crouches down next to Scott, and studies the wound before crouching down next to him. "This is gonna hurt like a mother, but you'll probably heal better without it." He takes the piece of wood with both hands and nods. "Ready?"

If Scott says yes, he'll do his best to yank it out quickly and cleanly.]

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