Breakfast that morning was normal - for the members of the League who had gotten to know each other quite well in the last few months of travelling and battling evil. Anyone who had only just seen them, however, would be downright confused at their demeanors.
Skinner was a disgustingly cheerful presence that took great delight in tormenting Dr. Jekyll, whose attitude in early morning before his first cup of coffee rivaled Hyde's less-than-approachable demeanor. Tom watched the two with amusement, occasionally chiming in here and there. The more - mature - members of the league situated themselves at the other end of the table. Nemo was earnestly discussing the route, stops that would need to be made, and Mina was quiet, asking only the rare question. Alan tried to involve himself in these goings-on, but it was difficult as he felt something repeatedly dragging his attention away.
He concentrated on the route once more, bringing himself back to the conversation, to find Nemo glancing at him concernedly, Mina mirroring his gaze. "What?" asked Alan, uncomfortable under their combined stares.
"You seem a little - distracted," said Nemo, his voice carefully expressionless.
"It's nothing," Alan said, brusquely brushing off their concern.
"Oh, but it must be something to capture the attention of the great Alan Quatermain," said Mina mockingly. Her ruse failed to work, however, and she exchanged a worried glance with Nemo as Alan completely ignored her, eyes drawn once more to the window to his left, just behind Nemo.
"Excuse me," he said curtly, pushing his chair back and leaving the table abruptly.
There was a short moment of silence across the board at Alan's surprising exit.
"What was that about?" asked Tom, somewhat bewildered. He pushed a thatch of blond hair back from his face, and glanced at the other faces at the table.
"Old Alan's been acting a bit off his feed lately," Skinner contributed unhelpfully. Then he frowned. "Or not so old, anymore. Bloody hell, now he's got me all turned round!"
"Wait, what do you mean by that?" asked Jekyll. His pale face was slightly pinched with worry, but his features were more relaxed now, in the face of a possible dilemma, than was his everyday wont. It was precisely because he was energized, rather than panicked, in the midst of a crisis, that he was so valuable to the League. One would expect the quiet doctor to fall to pieces in an emergency, but he had startled them all with his resilience and ability to problem solve. He was useful for more than just his counterpart, Edward Hyde.
"Well, I followed him this morning and he went into a back room with more weapons than are on Nautilus," said Skinner frankly. Nemo raised a brow at the description. "He was very - nostalgic, like, but he was on a hair-trigger like nothing I've ever seen - he was hyper-alert, and very, very fast. Like - oh hell, I don't know," Skinner cut off in frustration, hard-pressed to accurately describe the change in Alan.
"I too noticed a difference in the hunter," Nemo said softly.
"When was this?" asked Jekyll intently.
"I followed his track early this morning, and although I know he did not think to be followed, nevertheless the trail was hard to find. I came upon him, and he was practicing with an assortment of weapons, the like of which I have rarely seen. Many were African in origin." Nemo paused. "We dueled, for a short time. Simply to exercise, and I confess I was anxious to discover the extent of his surprising skills." At this point he was silent for so long that Skinner became impatient.
"Well?"
Nemo glanced at the space where the invisible man presumably was - the empty chair was rocking on its back legs, balanced precariously. "It was the most even match I have ever fenced. Had he not lost his footing a moment, it might have gone on for hours."
"Well who won?" asked the invisible man, the chair falling forward with a thump as he eagerly leant over the table.
"It was a draw."
Tom whistled, and if anyone had been able to see it, they would have made out blank shock on Skinner's face. But the astonished features of Jekyll, who had seen Nemo take on a man mutated by his formula, more than made up for the other.
"That is intriguing," muttered Mina under her breath. Her chin was propped on her fists, eyes gazing sightlessly at a wall, declining to take in the painting there, as she turned these thoughts over in her mind.
"So's that!" said Tom, pointing past her out the window.
The League members turned to see, the American being the only one who actually rushed to the glass to get a closer look.
Alan was walking out over the grass, holding only a spear. There was a tube and several poisoned darts strapped to his belt, but his stance was not that of a hunter. He was striding along, upright, without making any attempt to cloak himself from possible prey. He startled a flock of birds from a nearby stand of trees, and stopped dead, following their progress.
As soon as the birds vanished from sight, he turned and began to run. To those watching, his speed rivaled that of a cheetah, and he was gone within moments.
Nemo heaved a sigh. "Not all is well with our friend, I fear," he said gravely.
"We'd better get ready to set out, then," said Jekyll, pushing his chair from the table and rising, taking a last sip of coffee before gathering up his dishes.
"What do you mean?" asked Tom, doing likewise.
"We have no idea when Alan will return," Jekyll pointed out sensibly, lifting the pile of plates. "It will undoubtedly be before we had planned to depart, but it may be later. In any case, we should be preparing to leave."
"Aye, I'll second that," Skinner replied. The dishes at his place floated towards the door into the kitchen, and Jekyll followed. Shrugging, Tom fell into line behind Jekyll, glancing back over his shoulder. Nemo was still gazing out the window, and Mina ripped her gaze away, locking eyes momentarily with Tom. Shivering a little from the intensity of that stare, Sawyer decided that, despite Mina's allure, he would steer clear of her until she had fed.