Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
The above are probably the first things people notice on nights during which he is not also wearing a fluffy, thigh-length caramel-coloured probably-faux fur coat. This not one of those nights. Under it, he's more reasonably clad, in nicely-fitting dark indigo jeans with a plain white tank, its ribbed cotton skimming close enough to hint at the musculature beneath. Over that, he's wearing a long-sleeved, navy blue shirt, unbuttoned; judging by the white-on-red number patches on the left arm, the flag patch on the right shoulder, and the round fleur-de-lis patch to the left of the collar, it was once part of someone's Scout uniform... probably not his. Okay, the 'Boy Scouts of the USA' patch over the right pocket's a hint, too. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Briari stands at a fairly average height of five foot three with shoulder length curly blonde hair. Her eyes are a soft blue color. She has a lean, lanky build about her which appears built more for running than lifting. She tends to dress in boring jeans and shirts purchased at the local Hot Topic. Geekery shirts with logos of Adventure Time, My Little Pony, Futurama, Star Wars, etc. She rarely wears make up or jewelry. She has a bit of a southern tan complexion from living in Georgia.
It's a lovely St. Claire morning, assuming one finds light rain a handful of degrees above freezing lovely, and it's just barely before dawn when there's an alert from the phone (and watch) that Something Is Going On. On the balcony, specifically. Apparently, it's being invaded by a bear! Or possibly Felix, in that fur(ish) coat of his. He parkours on over the railing from a not-really-near-enough-by fire escape, grinning when he lands neatly on the floor. All pieces still intact! He glances toward the balcony doors and whatever view there is of the interior of the place, but doesn't try to get in -- doesn't even knock, instead flopping down into a chair, putting his feet up on the nearest handy object (be it table, other chair, or railing) and pulling out his smokes to light one up.
The balcony has a line of sight into the Ragabash's bedroom, like most high end manors in the sky would enjoy. As the alarm goes off on her phone, Briari is seen heading into the master bedroom from her large bathroom, dressed in a pair of boyfriend undies and a simple flannel shirt that is half buttoned. In her hands is a barretta with the safety off. The thick curls of blonde hair is pulled upwards into a pony tail with a few strands of bangs dripping into her face. As she spies the Galliard sprawled out on her balcony, she lowers the weapons and strides to the doors, yanking them open with a frown. "What's up?"
Felix glances over, a bit startled to see her so soon, and lifts the cigarette in greeting. "Mornin'," he greets, "Didn't actually reckon you'd be up this early. Wanted to catch you for a chat, an' I was passin' by, so I figured I might as well drop by an' wait. No hurry or nothin'. Nice view, by the way." He tilts his head to indicate the sky and cityscape off the balcony, just to be clear there's no innuendo intended.
"I function on three hours asleep a day. I was just about to get in the shower. What do you want to chat about." The gun is slipped into her pocket as she steps out on to the cold balcony with bare feet. She takes a long look across the expanse of the ritzy part of the city for a moment before she smirks back at him.
Felix takes a drag on the cigarette, watching the first fingers of dawn pinken the sky, while she takes that long look, and watches the smoke curl into the chill air when he exhales. "You sure you don't wanna put on a robe or somethin'? It's fuckin' cold out here." In case she hadn't noticed. Another glance at her, and apparently there's enough chivalry in him to add, "Or I s'pose you could borrow my coat."
"Maybe I just want to give the neighbors something to talk about. What do you /want/, Felix?" Briari looks at his coat and wrinkles her nose.
"Reckon it'd take more than that," Felix says, "...and don't make that face, this coat is awesome. Anyway. I was hopin' maybe we could take advantage of your expertise. 'cause, see, we ain't got us a Raggie, let alone one with the knack for findin' shit I hear you got. Plus all them cameras an' your mysterious Ways you keep mentionin'." The very last bit is somewhat teasing, but he sounds sincere, and gives her one of his more charming grins.
Briari folds her arms over her chest as she stares at him. "Get to the point. I'm a busy wolf, Felix and time is money. I have a schedule to maintain, even on a Sunday. Spit it out what you need me to do so I can tell you either No or Yes with a heavy price tag attached to it."
Felix sighs. "Northerners ain't got no patience," he mutters half under his breath, although it's not like he's ever been famous for it himself. Though he was apparently planning to wait here to talk to her indefinitely. "Anyway, I ain't asked price tags from you when you wanted me to do shit. But, fine. So, that Tower over there. People're plannin' to do shit about it, I know you're doin' various recon an' all, so on and so on, and there's this idea to set up some other folks we don't much like to take the fall for whatever shit ends up happenin' to THOSE folks we don't like. Maybe even use 'em to help make shit happen. I ain't in charge of details or nothin'. Now, there's a group of leeches in the city, they had this church where they were torturin' people underground, but day after Justin an' Watcher found 'em, they -- the leeches, I mean -- burn the place down, people an' all, an' we ain't seen hide nor hair of 'em since. So, maybe they left town. Maybe. We reckon not, though, 'cause they left Justin an' Watcher with a message that shit ain't over an' they're gunnin' for us. So we been lookin', but... they been quiet. Ain't even gettin' word of missin' people to work from. They had this crazy preacher guy attached to 'em, but haven't seen him either. So I wondered, any chance he might be showin' up on cameras somewhere? An' just what would you need to be able to track him down... an' does it only work on individuals? Like, I'm guessin' 'crazy preacher' ain't gonna do it, but what exactly would we hafta get to have a chance? An' also assumin' 'fucked up bunch of leeches' isn't specific enough, would like... I dunno, Congregation of Whatever let you find the group, or are groups too spread out a thing?" He drops his feet and twists, crossing his arms on the back of the chair and resting his chin on them, stopping just short of batting his lashes at her as he offers, "We'll make you more cookies."
"I'm from Atlanta, Georgia." Briari says with a smirk on her face, eyes rolling upwards. "And I will pass on the cookies. I just need a name, or a nick name of any of them." She rubs her chin with the palm of her hand as she thinks, then heads into the house. "Come on in. Wipe your feet off before you do." Heading to the large walk in closet, she opens the french doors and peers inside at the miles of clothing available, then decides on a pair of skinny jeans and a baggy sweater. "I can set up cameras in some areas you think may be a hot spot of activity for them, and it will take some time for me to monitor them and pour through data. The only benefit we have is they are allergic to sunlight so it shortens how much time I need to comb through."
"Well, you're assimilatin'," Felix replies, but there's a half-smile that goes with it that gives it something of a 'point taken' flavour even if the words suggest otherwise. He rises from the chair, stretching, and wipes his feet exaggeratedly (although effectively) before following her inside. Ashes the cigarette, too, though he doesn't leave it outside. On the other hand, she didn't tell him to. "'s too bad, they're good cookies. More for me, I guess. So names or nicknames for individuals, but not groups? Nickname's gotta be the kind they'd answer to?" he asks, leaning up against the balcony door once it's closed. "S'pose it ain't like they do on TV with computers matchin' facial recognition an' shit like that, huh?" A brief pause, and more to himself, "Prolly good, really." To her again, "That the kinda thing anyone else might be able to help with any?"
"Not that I know of in the current roster of Glass Walkers. Mouse, maybe. The current roster of Walkers are not as techy as I am and I'm no hacker. I dig deep into the Internet. I'm good at finding shit no one wants you to find. But, I can't bypass a lot of major security systems or the DMV, yadda yadda. You need a good cyber Theurge for something like that." Briari pulls her clothes on easily, giving a few hops to make sure the jeans fit just right. "If you can get his real name that would be optimal."
Felix takes a thoughtful drag. "Well, I reckon once you get to the point you're connected with weird shadow-bendin' leeches an' people're able to describe you as 'that crazy preacher down the corner' you prolly ain't goin' regular to the DMV," he says, "...but you prolly ain't spreadin' your real name around much neither. If we got somethin' like, I dunno, Father Smith, that pretty real? Anythin' he'd introduce himself to someone with or someone'd hear someone else call him by, those'd do?"
<OOC> Briari says "I'm going to call it. My head is killing me and I'm going to kill this kid."
<OOC> Felix says "Aww. Okay. Thank you for scene."