Dinner had been taxing on her. But Hamish knew the movement itself was certain to take its toll on her. His methods of massage and acupuncture could not replace lost muscle and the trip down the staircase had him on edge. But everyone had seen to her comfort and safety, and they had all joined in the meal. A meal that celebrated the New Year, holidays missed, and friends never to return.<br/><br/>Hamish listened to them all talk easily amongst themselves. Isolde fit in here as if she had simply always been a part of the house. When Isolde requested a move to the sitting room, Hamish moved more on habit, scooping her from the chair before she had even asked. She took the gesture with patient understanding and asked to walk. Hamish found himself embarrassed and gently set her on her feet. From now on, she needed to walk unless she specified otherwise. Hamish mentally noted this and they walked arm in arm into the sitting room. Isolde was almost panting by the time they got her into the soft leather chair and Chaya was there with a thick cover for her legs.<br/><br/>Hamish tended the fire, while Josef and Myra prepared brandy and set out a bowl of fruit. Where they had managed to find fruit was beyond Hamish but Josef seemed to know where to look. Hamish would have to keep an eye on that but so far it had only meant better meals. Chaya stood always with her back to a wall and only a few steps from Hamish, staying in his shadow, ready to be of service.<br/>She requested her diary and some painting supplies, if it were “no great trouble”. Hamish laughed softly at that last part. He would rip open the gates of hell for those inside his house right now, a few personal affects seemed almost…laughably normal.<br/><br/>“I believe I can manage that,” Hamish replied, rising as the new wood in the fire took to the flame. “I will have them by morning for you.”<br/><br/>Hamish sat across from Isolde, the fire bouncing its orange and yellow gaiety about the room in a manner far more festive than the discussion warranted. The smell of burning wood quietly played through air of the room with warming touches finding places to settle on those gathered. Myra and Josef left the room to take care of the cleaning, leaving Chaya behind to take care of their requests. She always seemed to be within a few feet of Hamish, her gliding movements were becoming eerily familiar to his.<br/><br/>“The easiest method of an assassination is the blade,” Hamish said, his hands forming teepees under his chin as he the rest of his body remained completely still yet somehow coiled and ready to spring. “A puncture wound to the liver, lungs, kidneys, or several arteries would mean death. A blade coated with a drug or poison can speed things along but people can be surprisingly resistant to the oddest things.”<br/><br/>Hamish looked confused for the only the briefest of glances and his next words came out slowly, as if he had to test the validity of each one before proceeding. “I once shot a man with an arrow made from the toxin of a rattlesnake. The arrow took him in the arm, the man fell sick from the poison, and managed a full recovery. He died in the hospital due to a food allergy to peanuts. I don’t know when that happened…”<br/><br/>Hamish trailed off before shaking the memory away. “Poisons are not as useful for the actual killing part but they can paralyze a person, put them out of commission. But a blade to the right area is the surest way. A bullet on the other hand, is the safest. I can hit any normal sized target dead center at 1500 yards with a good rifle but there is no guarantee the bullet will do what it needs to do. Once a bullet leaves a gun too many different variables come into play for it to be as reliable as a knife. There is a reason many soldiers survive gunshot wounds but not knife wounds.<br/><br/>“A different subject entirely would be a snipers bullet. One shot at the right angle, into the right part of the body can tear through several organs in the blink of an eye. It is the safest of all methods and relatively reliable but requires perfection for a true kill shot. With Darcy, I’m not certain we would want to risk the lowest decimal of a percentage to miss the kill.<br/><br/>“Finally, there are bombs. Built correctly they can be devastating. They require far less accuracy than a gun but require far more luck if you are looking for a single kill. The one advantage bombs truly have is the ability to disperse toxins. I once used a chemical compound of ammonia and bleach to create a rather nasty version of mustard gas that killed an entire barrack of English Redcoats. So bombs can have their uses if you know your target is in an enclosed space or exactly where the target will be at a given time. Given those parameters I could make a bomb that I could detonate remotely or stick in a package and detonate when it is picked up.”<br/><br/>“I know very little of your cousin. What can you tell me of her? What do her powers allow her to do? Anything you can think of can be helpful here.”