Thaddeus looked to Alfarinn and gave a slight nod of thanks, finding it suddenly rather difficult to speak. It was completely irrational to feel so conflicted and emotional - it was just a box, after all, but his sentimental streak ran wider than even he really knew. He was glad to have found it; even if the slim wooden box was not at all where it should be, he still experienced the simple innocent joy of finding a long lost treasure. That feeling was, however, only an undercurrent to confusion, nostalgia, loss. All in all seeing that box had thrown him; it was the most unexpected find he could imagine.
They couldn’t, however, afford to be thrown right now. He reached out and rested his hand on the lid.
Sensing something that had belonged to him at one point was a rather strange experience, he discovered. He couldn’t seem to sort out his memories from his sensing, resulting in something more intense but less clear than usual.
He was walking slowly and as quietly as he could, the box in one hand, behind his back. Emma sat with her back to him on the white bench, looking out at the night sky, but she turned and smiled just as he reached out to touch her shoulder.
Rough hands grabbed hold of the box, flipped the catch. An image of the box in someone’s (Lykaios’s) hand, held at an awkward angle. Seashells, a tiny comb, a few folded pieces of thick paper falling, littering the ground. Disgust, pain, rage.
His mother turned the box in her hands, smiling as she showed him the hidden compartment on the bottom. He solemnly placed a pair of cufflinks inside. His mother kissed him on the forehead.
Smooth, manicured hands, familiar hands (Sorin’s?) ran over the top of the box. Triumph. Pride.
Edward, his childhood friend, holding the box over his head and threatening to look inside while both boys laughed so hard it hurt.
Emma’s hand, resting on the box. An image of her opening it and touching the soft lining inside, her expression wistful. Then she smiled and the image was gone.
Then suddenly everything was gone and he was standing in a run down apartment building. He looked down, frowning, to find that he had pulled away – his hand hovered in the air. Perhaps his mind recognized he was in danger of losing himself?
Strange.
Feeling somewhat drained, he reached up and rubbed at his chin. These oddities with his psychometry could be delved into later – perhaps all the practice was merely enhancing the ability and he was adjusting. It wasn’t important right now, in any case.
What they had sensed, on the other hand, was. He braced his gloved hand on the dresser and reached out to flip the catch on the box, mostly in an attempt to stall discussion as he had no idea what to say. He was certain that the box had been in Lykaios’s hands, which hurt to think about, and while there was no evidence that Sorin had come into possession of it by way of The Wolf, Thaddeus thought at this point he might take that bet.
His stalling tactic, however, was not particularly effective.
The box was completely empty inside.
He bit down on his lower lip, hard, then mentally shook himself and looked to Alfarinn, his tone clipped.
“Alright. Yes. We should keep looking.”
He felt his cheek twitch a little and set his jaw, reaching over to close the box. Before he did, though, on impulse he ran his thumb over the lining inside.
He blinked in surprise.
“Oh.” He didn’t know, at this point, whether to laugh or cry. “The ring was here.”
He turned to explain. “When I first sensed the ring, I felt the box. I was inside there for ages, but I didn’t…recognize it…until now.”
His voice trailed off as the implications registered. Revelations were hitting from both sides and in the midst of that level of emotional chaos Thaddeus was beginning to feel a numbness settle in. He took a sharp breath to erase the dazed feeling and turned away, raking his fingers through his hair.
North and Seventh
Thaddeus craned his neck up to look at the apartment buildings rising up to either side, remembering the night he had climbed up from the sewers, stood exactly in this way, and began to hatch a plan.
Of course, this time he wasn't slightly drunk, which he imagined would be helpful. Setting aside thoughts of his recent ventures into the land of drink, he turned to his companions. The people who were sticking their necks out to help him. He just as quickly turned his gaze skyward once more, deciding that glance had only made him more nervous.
'They aren't watching me. They're busy with the cameras and the computers, not impatiently waiting for me to shock and amaze them.'
Without looking back, he reached out to give Alfarinn's fingertips a light squeeze before taking a step forward. This would, he reflected, be so much easier with a ledge to step off. Of course, it would also be easier if someone happened to jump out behind the dumpster, where they had been waiting in ambush, but that hardly made it ideal. Besides, it wasn't as though he couldn't change without any provocation...it was just a bit nerve wracking.
Finally, he decided that waiting would only make this more difficult. The plan was set, specific logistics had been worked out on the way over, and now was the time for everyone to get to their respective positions before they aroused suspicion.
[Here goes nothing, as they say.]
He briefly entertained the notion of stealing a kiss for luck and ultimately decided that wouldn't be wise - he'd likely only startle Alfarinn, shock Claire, amuse Palmer, and annoy Christian. Or some combination of those reactions. Repressing a sigh, he stepped forward and closed his eyes, fully aware of how stupid he must look, and focused on the shift.
Rather, he concentrated on falling; he could focus on changing into a bird until he was blue in the face and not get anywhere, but somehow thinking about the thing that oftentimes -caused- the shift worked quite well. He simply had to imagine that there was, quite suddenly, no ground under his feet. This particular scenario was well practiced enough that he actually felt a moment of vertigo before his head tilted back and the world grew alarmingly large. After a brief period of checking to ensure he was properly formed and to assure himself that he was alright, he flew up to Alfarinn's shoulder, pushing his wings through their full range of motion to get out the last of the stiffness changing had caused. The camera would need to be situated before he could -really- take off, though he sternly reminded himself to contain his desire for height and speed in this form.
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn kept his arm around Thaddeus' shoulders and reached out with his left hand to touch the box. His companion seemed intent on going through with this right away and so he would be there with him, without question.
He saw hands placing the box with a great deal of ceremony down on the dresser. There was no dust then though it was obvious the furniture was just as worn.
There were two hands on the box; one set was smooth and refined and the other pair was rough and scarred. There was a sense of both reluctance and triumph but it was hard to say which came from which. The smooth set of hands kept the box while the other pair released it.
The box sat on a blanket of peach brocade. Alfarinn realized it was someone's lap; delicate fingers caressed the lid. There was a sense of waiting for someone and a tension beneath the calm. It was hard for him to be certain. Alfarinn got images first and feelings secondly and unlike his empathy where the source was around for him to sense over and over again, the box only had the one scene and its quick blur of strong emotion around it. It was a stream of imput and he had to grab everything his senses could hold as it went by. Perhaps that was the way in which Thaddeus helped strengthen his psychometry; Thaddeus seemed to grasp the feelings best and the quickest while the images were what came at him so strongly.
Feminine hands held the box open and lovingly fingered the items inside. They were not taken out but merely touched and then the box was closed and placed on a small bedside table.
Further back still there was the image of young hands stowing neatly folded stationary in the box and then tucking it safely in the back of a dresser drawer. Alfarinn felt a sense of pride mingled with a desire for privacy and wondered just what Thaddeus had been hiding.
There was a set of feminine hands, different from the previous ones, taking the small box out of a trunk of mixed objects and checking it over carefully. The hands rubbed an oiled cloth over it lovingly before the image faded.
The last image he saw was very faint; it was a pair of male hands handing the small box over to a pair of young hands. The male figure had knelt down and there was.... and then it was gone.
Alfarinn pulled back and waited. Thaddeus said nothing and then he looked inside the box and said they should move on. He was about to argue that suggestion or simply say something when Thaddeus added his imput on the ring. It had been here and in the box but only another psychometrist would possibly be able to get such information. All it did was confirm things for them.
Sorin had the ring. He was the accomplice. Alfarinn had been ninety percent sure before but there was no doubting now.
Slowly wrapping his arms around Thaddeus, Alfairnn sighed and leaned his head down to speak softly against his companion's neck .
“It is your's, Thaddeus, and Emma's and that hasn't changed. It can come back with us. The consequences be damned. We won't leave it here.”
It would mean that they would have to solve this mystery before Sorin returned to this apartment and they had no idea how often that happened.
Alfarinn looked back at the little box and saw all the very personal images run through his mind once more. He wished there was some way to change what had happened and to wipe the taint of this crime from the box and its happier memories. Perhaps later he could suggest they use it for what Thaddeus had intended by giving it a place of honor in their home. They could place in it things they found that Emma would have liked and perhaps some new happy memories would be made, bittersweet though they might be.
He saw hands placing the box with a great deal of ceremony down on the dresser. There was no dust then though it was obvious the furniture was just as worn.
There were two hands on the box; one set was smooth and refined and the other pair was rough and scarred. There was a sense of both reluctance and triumph but it was hard to say which came from which. The smooth set of hands kept the box while the other pair released it.
The box sat on a blanket of peach brocade. Alfarinn realized it was someone's lap; delicate fingers caressed the lid. There was a sense of waiting for someone and a tension beneath the calm. It was hard for him to be certain. Alfarinn got images first and feelings secondly and unlike his empathy where the source was around for him to sense over and over again, the box only had the one scene and its quick blur of strong emotion around it. It was a stream of imput and he had to grab everything his senses could hold as it went by. Perhaps that was the way in which Thaddeus helped strengthen his psychometry; Thaddeus seemed to grasp the feelings best and the quickest while the images were what came at him so strongly.
Feminine hands held the box open and lovingly fingered the items inside. They were not taken out but merely touched and then the box was closed and placed on a small bedside table.
Further back still there was the image of young hands stowing neatly folded stationary in the box and then tucking it safely in the back of a dresser drawer. Alfarinn felt a sense of pride mingled with a desire for privacy and wondered just what Thaddeus had been hiding.
There was a set of feminine hands, different from the previous ones, taking the small box out of a trunk of mixed objects and checking it over carefully. The hands rubbed an oiled cloth over it lovingly before the image faded.
The last image he saw was very faint; it was a pair of male hands handing the small box over to a pair of young hands. The male figure had knelt down and there was.... and then it was gone.
Alfarinn pulled back and waited. Thaddeus said nothing and then he looked inside the box and said they should move on. He was about to argue that suggestion or simply say something when Thaddeus added his imput on the ring. It had been here and in the box but only another psychometrist would possibly be able to get such information. All it did was confirm things for them.
Sorin had the ring. He was the accomplice. Alfarinn had been ninety percent sure before but there was no doubting now.
Slowly wrapping his arms around Thaddeus, Alfairnn sighed and leaned his head down to speak softly against his companion's neck .
“It is your's, Thaddeus, and Emma's and that hasn't changed. It can come back with us. The consequences be damned. We won't leave it here.”
It would mean that they would have to solve this mystery before Sorin returned to this apartment and they had no idea how often that happened.
Alfarinn looked back at the little box and saw all the very personal images run through his mind once more. He wished there was some way to change what had happened and to wipe the taint of this crime from the box and its happier memories. Perhaps later he could suggest they use it for what Thaddeus had intended by giving it a place of honor in their home. They could place in it things they found that Emma would have liked and perhaps some new happy memories would be made, bittersweet though they might be.
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Thaddeus turned slightly to rest his chin on Alfarinn’s chest, but only momentarily; he was worried he would completely fall apart if he allowed for any more than that in response to his lover’s arms around him. His affirmative nod was the picture of melancholy and he couldn’t honestly say he was thinking clearly about the decision to take the box with them. It seemed like the only thing to do even though a part of him nagged that this was a foolish risk.
“Yes, alright. I don’t want to leave it here.”
He spoke a little thickly but otherwise managed to hold it together enough to pull away and close the box. Taking a deep breath, he turned and made eye contact for the first time since the discovery of the box.
“I suppose…now we know.”
He imagined he could come up with an alternate explanation if he really put some effort into it and stretched the circumstances to fit but there was simply too much pointing to Sorin at this point to continue denying the high probability that the Elder of the Night was responsible. He waited for the shock to come, in spite of being prepared for this possibility, and found a dull, relentless ache instead.
Or perhaps he was in shock now and that’s why he couldn’t recognize it. He wasn’t certain; what mattered was that he could and must go on.
“Now to see about convincing the rest of the world.”
He was both surprised and relieved at how resolute he sounded when only moments before he had barely managed a sentence. Yes, they’d come to a terrible conclusion, but they had no choice but to finish the path they had begun.
And already a part of him longed for justice.
He carefully opened the top drawer to reveal a mix of clothes in varying levels of quality and style. A precursory touch led him to believe they were not all Sorin’s, though a moment later he discovered what was clearly a women’s blouse, making that point rather obvious. He imagined some belonged to his guests, and were kept for who knew what purpose. Checking the other drawers yielded similar results- there was nothing concealed underneath or between layers of clothing, and while in most cases he wouldn’t believe that things were as they seemed when it came to Sorin, he was willing to accept that this was merely a chest of drawers.
Sighing and starting to feel the anxious press of time, he turned to see if Alfarinn had fared any better.
“Yes, alright. I don’t want to leave it here.”
He spoke a little thickly but otherwise managed to hold it together enough to pull away and close the box. Taking a deep breath, he turned and made eye contact for the first time since the discovery of the box.
“I suppose…now we know.”
He imagined he could come up with an alternate explanation if he really put some effort into it and stretched the circumstances to fit but there was simply too much pointing to Sorin at this point to continue denying the high probability that the Elder of the Night was responsible. He waited for the shock to come, in spite of being prepared for this possibility, and found a dull, relentless ache instead.
Or perhaps he was in shock now and that’s why he couldn’t recognize it. He wasn’t certain; what mattered was that he could and must go on.
“Now to see about convincing the rest of the world.”
He was both surprised and relieved at how resolute he sounded when only moments before he had barely managed a sentence. Yes, they’d come to a terrible conclusion, but they had no choice but to finish the path they had begun.
And already a part of him longed for justice.
He carefully opened the top drawer to reveal a mix of clothes in varying levels of quality and style. A precursory touch led him to believe they were not all Sorin’s, though a moment later he discovered what was clearly a women’s blouse, making that point rather obvious. He imagined some belonged to his guests, and were kept for who knew what purpose. Checking the other drawers yielded similar results- there was nothing concealed underneath or between layers of clothing, and while in most cases he wouldn’t believe that things were as they seemed when it came to Sorin, he was willing to accept that this was merely a chest of drawers.
Sighing and starting to feel the anxious press of time, he turned to see if Alfarinn had fared any better.
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn was glad that Thaddeus agreed to take the box. He had been afraid that his companion would insist on being reasonable and he'd have to explain that he didn't want to see it left here either. He gave Thaddeus a quick kiss on the forehead before his companion pulled completely away.
Nodding his head in agreement to Thaddeus' statement was the best answer he could give. Yes, now they knew. He had suspected for many years and perhaps others did also but now a few of them were certain. It was not the sense of justified triumph he expected to feel when this moment finally came. Thaddeus had changed things for him in so many ways and it was ironic that Emma's own child would be the reason he was sorry to see Sorin proven guilty.
He turned back toward the desk. They could speak more about this later, in the comfort of their home. Now they had work to do and Thaddeus was right to push everything else aside in order to get back to business; Alfarinn just hated seeing him have to do it.
Walking back over to the desk, he pulled out the chair in order to set it out of the way.
The image of a woman came to him in a vivid flash of image. She appeared to be a teacher of some kind though Alfarinn could not say what gave him that impression. Her common sense functional dress from centuries ago, the plain style of hair and that she was sitting at a writing desk. She could have been anyone but that was his assumption. Whoever she was, she was afraid. It was not difficult to grasp that emotion; it permeated everything and could be seen in the quiver of the quill in her hand as she sat to write a letter. There was a sense of someone standing over her; dictating the words. The desk was different, larger and more orante. Something nagged at him about the scene even after it was done.
Alfarinn gripped the back of the chair and leaned heavily against it. He had just meant to pull it out so they could both gather around the desk; he had not expected such a vivid and alarming memory to be locked within the innocent looking furniture. He could see now that it did not exactly match the pupil's desk and had not been made for it. The chair was far older.
"Be careful. There was... someone here. Very afraid....made to write a letter."Â?
He very much wanted to let go of the chair but now that he had it in his hand Alfarinn felt it was best to carefully push it out of the way as he had earlier intended. Once it was resting against the wall, he let go with a heavy sigh of relief.
"This place has been so full of surprises so far that I am finding myself quite glad that it is so sparsely furnished."Â?
Nodding his head in agreement to Thaddeus' statement was the best answer he could give. Yes, now they knew. He had suspected for many years and perhaps others did also but now a few of them were certain. It was not the sense of justified triumph he expected to feel when this moment finally came. Thaddeus had changed things for him in so many ways and it was ironic that Emma's own child would be the reason he was sorry to see Sorin proven guilty.
He turned back toward the desk. They could speak more about this later, in the comfort of their home. Now they had work to do and Thaddeus was right to push everything else aside in order to get back to business; Alfarinn just hated seeing him have to do it.
Walking back over to the desk, he pulled out the chair in order to set it out of the way.
The image of a woman came to him in a vivid flash of image. She appeared to be a teacher of some kind though Alfarinn could not say what gave him that impression. Her common sense functional dress from centuries ago, the plain style of hair and that she was sitting at a writing desk. She could have been anyone but that was his assumption. Whoever she was, she was afraid. It was not difficult to grasp that emotion; it permeated everything and could be seen in the quiver of the quill in her hand as she sat to write a letter. There was a sense of someone standing over her; dictating the words. The desk was different, larger and more orante. Something nagged at him about the scene even after it was done.
Alfarinn gripped the back of the chair and leaned heavily against it. He had just meant to pull it out so they could both gather around the desk; he had not expected such a vivid and alarming memory to be locked within the innocent looking furniture. He could see now that it did not exactly match the pupil's desk and had not been made for it. The chair was far older.
"Be careful. There was... someone here. Very afraid....made to write a letter."Â?
He very much wanted to let go of the chair but now that he had it in his hand Alfarinn felt it was best to carefully push it out of the way as he had earlier intended. Once it was resting against the wall, he let go with a heavy sigh of relief.
"This place has been so full of surprises so far that I am finding myself quite glad that it is so sparsely furnished."Â?
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Thaddeus creased his forehead at Alfarinn’s caution, concern for his lover pushing other emotions to the side. This entire experience was draining and they’d only just started their investigation – would everything they found be nearly unbearable to sense?
He walked around the chair and stood close at Alfarinn’s side, but looked over his shoulder at the offending object, still thoughtful.
“Commanded?”
He frowned, wondering what Sorin had hoped to accomplish and if it was in any way relevant to what they were doing, or just some other horrible little scheme. Alfarinn was, however, the more powerful psychometrist and he doubted he would be able to glean anything more helpful than what had already been discovered. Perhaps that was just his own impatience to find something truly incriminating or perhaps his judgment was just not at its best – Thaddeus found it odd that he could consider such options but nevertheless recognized the validity of them. Wasn’t the first sign of impaired judgment a refusal to admit one’s judgment was impaired?
He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps the first sign of impaired judgment was thinking rambling irrelevant and inappropriate thoughts. He knew he needed to pull it together and focus, to use what wits he had.
He spoke in an over bright tone.
“Yes, well, I suppose all that talk of silver linings holds true. We’ve proven an axiom.” That said, he reached out with his bare hand and placed it smartly on the surface of the desk. This was, in retrospect, a bad move, and he was very fortunate that his senses in this case were not overly powerful. There was no imagery at all – simply flickers of touch and emotion as hands, mostly Sorin’s he guessed, brushed and made contact with the surface. For all its past abuse it had been lightly used in recent years. Eventually he came to senses that were clearly not Sorin at all, and when he felt the odd sensation of someone carving into the wood he pulled back, feeling sheepish for that display of petulance.
“I’m…” An ass? A train wreck? A sarcastic bastard? “…sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. It wasn’t anything you said.”
Reaching out again, this time with his gloved hand, he carefully lifted the top of the desk to expose the large open space underneath, thinking that whatever discussions they were having, they needed to keep moving while they were having them.
One moment he was thinking about his attempt at an apology, something he did very rarely and was, consequentially, quite terrible at, and the next his vision was swimming and he felt the roar of rushing blood in his ears. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, like old pennies; he was dimly aware that a feather would knock him over right now. A circle of gray was closing in over his vision, which was focused on a long knife, a dagger, resting pristinely on the right hand side of the opened desk.
A dove in inlaid mother of pearl decorated the hilt, and delicate silver vines ran over the green leather scabbard. The design was a perfect match to Via Veritas, the sword that had passed through generations of Greys before ending up in his hands.
That was, after all, what he commissioned, and a Grey would settle for nothing less that perfection.
He blinked, and then it occurred to him that he might want to breathe if he wished to avoid fainting. At that first sharp intake of breath he might have made a startled, wounded sort of sound, but he found such things difficult to hear properly over the rushing sound in his ears. There was nothing reasonable or rational going through his mind – he was shocked and frightened and more than a little bewildered. He did not react out of any sort of presence of mind – putting his hand out, over but not touching the dagger, was more instinctive than anything else. His defenses went up like steel beams growing straight from the ground; it was not strength so much as well placed guards that compelled him to speak, oddly calm and clear if a bit quiet.
“I would really prefer if you didn’t touch that.”
He never even noticed the object lying next to the dagger. A part of his mind was too busy trying to deny what he was already seeing to observe anything more – a steady mantra of ‘this –can’t- be’ was playing through his head. It seemed far too cruel to be believed, as though this entire apartment was a house of horrors designed to cause him as much pain as possible. Seeing that dagger was so utterly unexpected; it was as though he had braced himself for a punch in the face only to feel a hidden knife slide neatly into his back.
He swallowed hard and suddenly confusion washed over him when he realized that what he was feeling now was exactly what Sorin had tried to prevent by keeping the dagger out of sight.
Now what in god’s name did that mean?
He walked around the chair and stood close at Alfarinn’s side, but looked over his shoulder at the offending object, still thoughtful.
“Commanded?”
He frowned, wondering what Sorin had hoped to accomplish and if it was in any way relevant to what they were doing, or just some other horrible little scheme. Alfarinn was, however, the more powerful psychometrist and he doubted he would be able to glean anything more helpful than what had already been discovered. Perhaps that was just his own impatience to find something truly incriminating or perhaps his judgment was just not at its best – Thaddeus found it odd that he could consider such options but nevertheless recognized the validity of them. Wasn’t the first sign of impaired judgment a refusal to admit one’s judgment was impaired?
He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps the first sign of impaired judgment was thinking rambling irrelevant and inappropriate thoughts. He knew he needed to pull it together and focus, to use what wits he had.
He spoke in an over bright tone.
“Yes, well, I suppose all that talk of silver linings holds true. We’ve proven an axiom.” That said, he reached out with his bare hand and placed it smartly on the surface of the desk. This was, in retrospect, a bad move, and he was very fortunate that his senses in this case were not overly powerful. There was no imagery at all – simply flickers of touch and emotion as hands, mostly Sorin’s he guessed, brushed and made contact with the surface. For all its past abuse it had been lightly used in recent years. Eventually he came to senses that were clearly not Sorin at all, and when he felt the odd sensation of someone carving into the wood he pulled back, feeling sheepish for that display of petulance.
“I’m…” An ass? A train wreck? A sarcastic bastard? “…sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. It wasn’t anything you said.”
Reaching out again, this time with his gloved hand, he carefully lifted the top of the desk to expose the large open space underneath, thinking that whatever discussions they were having, they needed to keep moving while they were having them.
One moment he was thinking about his attempt at an apology, something he did very rarely and was, consequentially, quite terrible at, and the next his vision was swimming and he felt the roar of rushing blood in his ears. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, like old pennies; he was dimly aware that a feather would knock him over right now. A circle of gray was closing in over his vision, which was focused on a long knife, a dagger, resting pristinely on the right hand side of the opened desk.
A dove in inlaid mother of pearl decorated the hilt, and delicate silver vines ran over the green leather scabbard. The design was a perfect match to Via Veritas, the sword that had passed through generations of Greys before ending up in his hands.
That was, after all, what he commissioned, and a Grey would settle for nothing less that perfection.
He blinked, and then it occurred to him that he might want to breathe if he wished to avoid fainting. At that first sharp intake of breath he might have made a startled, wounded sort of sound, but he found such things difficult to hear properly over the rushing sound in his ears. There was nothing reasonable or rational going through his mind – he was shocked and frightened and more than a little bewildered. He did not react out of any sort of presence of mind – putting his hand out, over but not touching the dagger, was more instinctive than anything else. His defenses went up like steel beams growing straight from the ground; it was not strength so much as well placed guards that compelled him to speak, oddly calm and clear if a bit quiet.
“I would really prefer if you didn’t touch that.”
He never even noticed the object lying next to the dagger. A part of his mind was too busy trying to deny what he was already seeing to observe anything more – a steady mantra of ‘this –can’t- be’ was playing through his head. It seemed far too cruel to be believed, as though this entire apartment was a house of horrors designed to cause him as much pain as possible. Seeing that dagger was so utterly unexpected; it was as though he had braced himself for a punch in the face only to feel a hidden knife slide neatly into his back.
He swallowed hard and suddenly confusion washed over him when he realized that what he was feeling now was exactly what Sorin had tried to prevent by keeping the dagger out of sight.
Now what in god’s name did that mean?
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn nodded and inhaled deeply, trying to regain some of his energy. The emotional roller coaster that came from sensing things one after another was very draining, especially when such strong memories were attached to them.
"Yes, quite probably. It was almost as if a gun were to her head; she was that fearful. I do not know why he would bother to have someone...."Â? It dawned on him as he spoke and he continued. "write for him when he could write whatever it was he wanted himself. It seemed obvious to the girl that she was afraid for her life and probably with good reason. That is a lot of trouble to go through to have a secretary but if you knew the letter was going to a psychometrist then you would have, a very real, worry that they would sense the person who wrote it."Â?
He raised his eyebrows at Thaddeus for his statement, true though it was, and watched his companion place his hand firmly on the desk. He supposed there were worse objects in the room to tempt fate with and Thaddeus was a strong willed person.
Looking somewhat confused by the apology, Alfarinn smiled.
"There is no need to apologize. This was bound to be taxing and we can't expect either of us to be at our peak of charming. Despite that though, I think you're.. "
Alfarinn let the sentence trail off. Thaddeus had been opening the lid to the desk while he was speaking and now his companion appeared as if he had seen a ghost. He looked from Thaddeus to the desk. His first reaction upon seeing the very familiar working on the knife was to reach forward to take it in order to get a closer look. It appeared as though it had also belonged to Thaddeus.
His hand once more poised mid air, Alfarinn dropped it and turned to his partner.
"But it's your's is it not? Do you think something has been done to it?"Â?
Thaddeus had not touched it. Reaching out, he pulled Thaddeus to him; if his companion had not sensed the dagger and knew there was something he would not like to feel then it was because he had personally experienced it himself. He felt a rush of concern and sadness. What new thing was this being brought up to haunt his lover? Whatever it was, Thaddeus would tell him in his own time; he would not ask.
"Alright. What would you like done with it?"Â?
Holding Thaddeus with his right arm around his waist, Alfarinn turned back to the desk and moved things around the dagger with his left.
"Stay here a minute...please. I can look through the rest of this."Â?
There was not much to see. Papers, blank stationary from several hotels, rent stubs, and something gold and metal showing from underneath a stack of mismatched bits of paper. He tentatively reached for it and pulled it forward.
The images were very familiar. They were the same as the dagger Thaddeus had brought back from one of his trips to the Manor. He had explained that Claire had taken it because she recognized it as Sorin's and was protecting her creator. This piece with matching scroll work and jeweled finery was the scabbard to that dagger.
"Does not tell us much more than we already knew. Sorin and Lykaios knew each other. We have at least one more person who can bear witness to the dagger being in Lykaios' possession and the scabbard being found here. "
It might not be enough to condemn Sorin outright but it was enough to make a tribunal of the other elders question him thoroughly. He had the apartment, he knew Lykaios. The psychometrists can sense that he had Emma's ring. Put together it was accumulating but he could really hope for something more substantial.
"Yes, quite probably. It was almost as if a gun were to her head; she was that fearful. I do not know why he would bother to have someone...."Â? It dawned on him as he spoke and he continued. "write for him when he could write whatever it was he wanted himself. It seemed obvious to the girl that she was afraid for her life and probably with good reason. That is a lot of trouble to go through to have a secretary but if you knew the letter was going to a psychometrist then you would have, a very real, worry that they would sense the person who wrote it."Â?
He raised his eyebrows at Thaddeus for his statement, true though it was, and watched his companion place his hand firmly on the desk. He supposed there were worse objects in the room to tempt fate with and Thaddeus was a strong willed person.
Looking somewhat confused by the apology, Alfarinn smiled.
"There is no need to apologize. This was bound to be taxing and we can't expect either of us to be at our peak of charming. Despite that though, I think you're.. "
Alfarinn let the sentence trail off. Thaddeus had been opening the lid to the desk while he was speaking and now his companion appeared as if he had seen a ghost. He looked from Thaddeus to the desk. His first reaction upon seeing the very familiar working on the knife was to reach forward to take it in order to get a closer look. It appeared as though it had also belonged to Thaddeus.
His hand once more poised mid air, Alfarinn dropped it and turned to his partner.
"But it's your's is it not? Do you think something has been done to it?"Â?
Thaddeus had not touched it. Reaching out, he pulled Thaddeus to him; if his companion had not sensed the dagger and knew there was something he would not like to feel then it was because he had personally experienced it himself. He felt a rush of concern and sadness. What new thing was this being brought up to haunt his lover? Whatever it was, Thaddeus would tell him in his own time; he would not ask.
"Alright. What would you like done with it?"Â?
Holding Thaddeus with his right arm around his waist, Alfarinn turned back to the desk and moved things around the dagger with his left.
"Stay here a minute...please. I can look through the rest of this."Â?
There was not much to see. Papers, blank stationary from several hotels, rent stubs, and something gold and metal showing from underneath a stack of mismatched bits of paper. He tentatively reached for it and pulled it forward.
The images were very familiar. They were the same as the dagger Thaddeus had brought back from one of his trips to the Manor. He had explained that Claire had taken it because she recognized it as Sorin's and was protecting her creator. This piece with matching scroll work and jeweled finery was the scabbard to that dagger.
"Does not tell us much more than we already knew. Sorin and Lykaios knew each other. We have at least one more person who can bear witness to the dagger being in Lykaios' possession and the scabbard being found here. "
It might not be enough to condemn Sorin outright but it was enough to make a tribunal of the other elders question him thoroughly. He had the apartment, he knew Lykaios. The psychometrists can sense that he had Emma's ring. Put together it was accumulating but he could really hope for something more substantial.
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Ever sensitive to being handled, Thaddeus was fairly certain that was exactly what Alfarinn was doing. Surprisingly enough, though, he was far from minding – in fact, he was interested to observe that having his lover’s arms around him actually did make him feel better. And Alfarinn had asked a fair question, one he didn’t have a ready answer to.
He thought that over while Alfarinn went through the drawer, wondering what the best solution was. He was still somewhat stunned by this latest development; questions and answers came to his distracted mind slowly and he could only nod mutely when Alfarinn asked him to stay there, not even considering being helpful at the moment.
If they were taking the box, that meant no matter what happened they would have to come forward with their evidence or risk Sorin discovering what they had done too soon. Either way, this apartment would not remain as it was for long – there was a chance more people may want to come and investigate, or simply gut the entire place of everything. If he didn’t take the blade with him now there was a very strong possibility that it would be lost to him forever. While he didn’t particularly mind that, others would recognize that the dagger belonged to him – the dove wasn’t exactly subtle. And that would mean explaining why he didn’t have any wish to see it again, as not everyone could be expected to have Alfarinn’s discretion.
No, it was best to deal with this now – the dagger belonged to him and he should take responsibility for it. He took a deep breath and then spoke, sounding shaken but hopefully coherent.
“I overreacted,” he heard himself say. “Of course I’ll take it with me when we go. This was a surprise, I’m not entirely sure what to make of it, but…yes, of course we shouldn’t leave it here.”
Why had Sorin kept it here? It hadn’t been a matter of simply forgetting to return the item, Thaddeus was certain of that much. He realized then that he’d never asked after its fate.
Deciding that he would probably never know, and that perhaps he didn’t –want- to know the complications of the Elder’s mind, he leaned into Alfarinn, feeling dreadful and simply wanting to finish and leave. He imagined that at some point he would need to explain himself but the thought was so terrible to him that he couldn’t imagine telling even the short version of what had happened. Alfarinn, thankfully, seemed in no rush to hear specifics.
He pulled out of his own musings only when Alfarinn began speaking again – it was not until then that he realized his lover had found something, seeing as how he had been studying their feet and generally feeling miserable. He wondered for a brief moment why on earth anyone put up with him, then shook off the thought and nodded his head.
“I imagine it might make some small difference to the case – would that psychometry were more objective though.”
His voice came out slightly muffled, as he was mostly speaking into Alfarinn’s shoulder, and he sternly reproached himself after only a few more moments of clinging. He was becoming annoyed, in truth, that the sight of a little dagger had effected him so badly. The whole mess with a mission gone wrong had happened fifty years ago and he was well over it – there was no reason for him to respond that poorly and he sincerely hoped Alfarinn didn’t think less of him for it.
All that was not, however, enough to make him break contact. Sighing, he pulled back enough to look up, pointedly –not- looking at the dagger and deciding he would figure out how to handle its removal when they were ready to leave.
“There’s still the closet, not to mention looking over the living area. I’m not optimistic about the kitchen or the bathroom but we should probably check those as well. We might find something more incriminating yet.”
He thought that over while Alfarinn went through the drawer, wondering what the best solution was. He was still somewhat stunned by this latest development; questions and answers came to his distracted mind slowly and he could only nod mutely when Alfarinn asked him to stay there, not even considering being helpful at the moment.
If they were taking the box, that meant no matter what happened they would have to come forward with their evidence or risk Sorin discovering what they had done too soon. Either way, this apartment would not remain as it was for long – there was a chance more people may want to come and investigate, or simply gut the entire place of everything. If he didn’t take the blade with him now there was a very strong possibility that it would be lost to him forever. While he didn’t particularly mind that, others would recognize that the dagger belonged to him – the dove wasn’t exactly subtle. And that would mean explaining why he didn’t have any wish to see it again, as not everyone could be expected to have Alfarinn’s discretion.
No, it was best to deal with this now – the dagger belonged to him and he should take responsibility for it. He took a deep breath and then spoke, sounding shaken but hopefully coherent.
“I overreacted,” he heard himself say. “Of course I’ll take it with me when we go. This was a surprise, I’m not entirely sure what to make of it, but…yes, of course we shouldn’t leave it here.”
Why had Sorin kept it here? It hadn’t been a matter of simply forgetting to return the item, Thaddeus was certain of that much. He realized then that he’d never asked after its fate.
Deciding that he would probably never know, and that perhaps he didn’t –want- to know the complications of the Elder’s mind, he leaned into Alfarinn, feeling dreadful and simply wanting to finish and leave. He imagined that at some point he would need to explain himself but the thought was so terrible to him that he couldn’t imagine telling even the short version of what had happened. Alfarinn, thankfully, seemed in no rush to hear specifics.
He pulled out of his own musings only when Alfarinn began speaking again – it was not until then that he realized his lover had found something, seeing as how he had been studying their feet and generally feeling miserable. He wondered for a brief moment why on earth anyone put up with him, then shook off the thought and nodded his head.
“I imagine it might make some small difference to the case – would that psychometry were more objective though.”
His voice came out slightly muffled, as he was mostly speaking into Alfarinn’s shoulder, and he sternly reproached himself after only a few more moments of clinging. He was becoming annoyed, in truth, that the sight of a little dagger had effected him so badly. The whole mess with a mission gone wrong had happened fifty years ago and he was well over it – there was no reason for him to respond that poorly and he sincerely hoped Alfarinn didn’t think less of him for it.
All that was not, however, enough to make him break contact. Sighing, he pulled back enough to look up, pointedly –not- looking at the dagger and deciding he would figure out how to handle its removal when they were ready to leave.
“There’s still the closet, not to mention looking over the living area. I’m not optimistic about the kitchen or the bathroom but we should probably check those as well. We might find something more incriminating yet.”
Alfarinn
18 years ago
He had to admit to himself that it was nice having Thaddeus leaning against him. Alfarinn ruffled the papers around importantly for longer than was necessary just to enjoy the moment a little longer. And really there -could- be something useful in the payment notices and stationary. There was very little to sense from the papers and none of it was relevant to their cause.
Thaddeus did not sound at all convinced that taking the dagger was a good idea. The consideration seemed to be connected to whatever reason Thaddeus had not wanted him to touch the dagger because they were already taking the box so there should be no concern with disturbing the apartment. He gave his companion a long and steady look when Thaddeus pulled back just to make certain he truly wished to bring it.
Alfarinn pulled the scabbard out and set it on the bed. He was tempted to call Claire to take a look at the scabbard before they brought it out of the apartment but he figured that it made very little difference. They did not come in with anything so it had to have come from here and if they were not trusted then they could have planted it at any time.
“It is true that its not much but our psychometry does show more and there are pieces to this puzzle that even a person with no special senses could put together.”
Going back to the dresser drawer, he found one a woman's silk blouse, very likely not Sorin's. It wasn't his colour....or his size for that matter. With the fabric in hand, Alfarinn took up the hilt of the dagger and wrapped the rest of the silk around the entire thing before placing it on the bed as well.
“There we can stack things that need to be taken with us, here. Perhaps we should wrap the scabbard so that we do not disturb the images on it?”
He walked over to the closet and looked back at Thaddeus.
“Should we look over the closet together?”
Just in case there were more surprises for either of them.
Thaddeus did not sound at all convinced that taking the dagger was a good idea. The consideration seemed to be connected to whatever reason Thaddeus had not wanted him to touch the dagger because they were already taking the box so there should be no concern with disturbing the apartment. He gave his companion a long and steady look when Thaddeus pulled back just to make certain he truly wished to bring it.
Alfarinn pulled the scabbard out and set it on the bed. He was tempted to call Claire to take a look at the scabbard before they brought it out of the apartment but he figured that it made very little difference. They did not come in with anything so it had to have come from here and if they were not trusted then they could have planted it at any time.
“It is true that its not much but our psychometry does show more and there are pieces to this puzzle that even a person with no special senses could put together.”
Going back to the dresser drawer, he found one a woman's silk blouse, very likely not Sorin's. It wasn't his colour....or his size for that matter. With the fabric in hand, Alfarinn took up the hilt of the dagger and wrapped the rest of the silk around the entire thing before placing it on the bed as well.
“There we can stack things that need to be taken with us, here. Perhaps we should wrap the scabbard so that we do not disturb the images on it?”
He walked over to the closet and looked back at Thaddeus.
“Should we look over the closet together?”
Just in case there were more surprises for either of them.
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Thaddeus met Alfarinn’s eyes unwaveringly, wondering what was going through his lover’s mind. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for worrying him-this was difficult enough without the irrelevant additions. Reaching up, he lightly touched Alfarinn’s cheek with one hand before looking away, uncertain of what to say.
Alfarinn headed over to the chest of drawers and Thaddeus assumed he was going to get the box; meanwhile, he turned back to regard the dagger in a sort of final contest of wills. A kind of morbid fascination took over him as he studied the blade. It truly was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship; he had been so pleased when he first laid eyes on the elegant scrollwork and the perfectly weighted handle.
The handle was clean now, though he could not actually see the blade, concealed as it was in its own scabbard. He had the sudden compulsion to check, to pick up the dagger and pull it out and see if he would find his own reflection or a crust of years-old blood. His hands were in motion almost before he realized it and it was only Alfarinn’s return, with a filmy blouse in hand, that prevented him from picking it up.
God, what was he –doing-?
Alfarinn was too swift in moving the dagger for him to raise any objections – either that or Thaddeus was too slow. He simply gave a jerky, nervous nod and went to retrieve the box and something to wrap the scabbard from the dresser. This was done in short order and he looked down at the two bundles and the box, now so harmless looking, before turning to join his lover at the closet.
“Yes…if…yes, I’d like that.” He reached out to open the closet door, hoping his stammering wasn’t too noticeable. He was well aware that it would be more efficient for them to split up and only come together if they found something questionable but at this point he was more than willing to concede that he would be far less effective on his own. Even so, he hated feeling like the weak link; it was a matter of pride.
Alfarinn headed over to the chest of drawers and Thaddeus assumed he was going to get the box; meanwhile, he turned back to regard the dagger in a sort of final contest of wills. A kind of morbid fascination took over him as he studied the blade. It truly was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship; he had been so pleased when he first laid eyes on the elegant scrollwork and the perfectly weighted handle.
The handle was clean now, though he could not actually see the blade, concealed as it was in its own scabbard. He had the sudden compulsion to check, to pick up the dagger and pull it out and see if he would find his own reflection or a crust of years-old blood. His hands were in motion almost before he realized it and it was only Alfarinn’s return, with a filmy blouse in hand, that prevented him from picking it up.
God, what was he –doing-?
Alfarinn was too swift in moving the dagger for him to raise any objections – either that or Thaddeus was too slow. He simply gave a jerky, nervous nod and went to retrieve the box and something to wrap the scabbard from the dresser. This was done in short order and he looked down at the two bundles and the box, now so harmless looking, before turning to join his lover at the closet.
“Yes…if…yes, I’d like that.” He reached out to open the closet door, hoping his stammering wasn’t too noticeable. He was well aware that it would be more efficient for them to split up and only come together if they found something questionable but at this point he was more than willing to concede that he would be far less effective on his own. Even so, he hated feeling like the weak link; it was a matter of pride.
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn smiled at Thaddeus and moved towards the closet. The sooner they got this whole thing over with the better. There had been some hesitation or perhaps something else that Thaddeus was going to say but changed his mind about. He wondered what was going to be said but felt that he shouldn't press his companion into sharing his thoughts and feelings here. It was likely not appropriate to pry at any time but he could not think of a worse time to begin demanding to know his lover's inner workings.
There was very little in the closet.
He looked at the clothes hanging on the rack. There was a suit, a jacket and a couple of shirts and that was it. Looking at Thaddeus, he shrugged.
"I'll take the suit if you'll take the jacket."Â?
Holding on to Thaddeus' hand, Alfarinn reached out to touch the suit.
There was a boy laying on a hardwood floor pressed firmly against the front of the suit. There was a sense of pleasure and a lesser sense of fear. The first emotion seemed to belong to the wearer and the other to the boy touching the clothing,fainter with less contact. Alfarinn could see the boy pushing the suit wearer away but eventually he ceases to struggle and his hands fall slack to the floor. He thought the kid was dead but then the wearer pulled the boy up from the floor and held him against him.
There were hands clutching the suit...getting stronger and then being pushed away.
A new vampire had been made.
Breathing deeply to clear himself of the emotions and the sick pleasure that was gotten from forcefully creating a teenager against their will, he shuddered. He had been that boy many many ages ago and knew that fear personally. It has been said that you never forget the night that you were made and it was true. He remembered the last of his humanity being pulled from him as he fought ineffectively against the tiny woman.
Alfarinn wondered if Thaddeus would recognize the kid in the images. Perhaps Thaddeus should give the suit a try as well but he would rather not make his companion feel that.
"He...made someone in this suit. I do not recognize the person but he could be new. Do you know of anyone Sorin has created recently?"Â?
There was very little in the closet.
He looked at the clothes hanging on the rack. There was a suit, a jacket and a couple of shirts and that was it. Looking at Thaddeus, he shrugged.
"I'll take the suit if you'll take the jacket."Â?
Holding on to Thaddeus' hand, Alfarinn reached out to touch the suit.
There was a boy laying on a hardwood floor pressed firmly against the front of the suit. There was a sense of pleasure and a lesser sense of fear. The first emotion seemed to belong to the wearer and the other to the boy touching the clothing,fainter with less contact. Alfarinn could see the boy pushing the suit wearer away but eventually he ceases to struggle and his hands fall slack to the floor. He thought the kid was dead but then the wearer pulled the boy up from the floor and held him against him.
There were hands clutching the suit...getting stronger and then being pushed away.
A new vampire had been made.
Breathing deeply to clear himself of the emotions and the sick pleasure that was gotten from forcefully creating a teenager against their will, he shuddered. He had been that boy many many ages ago and knew that fear personally. It has been said that you never forget the night that you were made and it was true. He remembered the last of his humanity being pulled from him as he fought ineffectively against the tiny woman.
Alfarinn wondered if Thaddeus would recognize the kid in the images. Perhaps Thaddeus should give the suit a try as well but he would rather not make his companion feel that.
"He...made someone in this suit. I do not recognize the person but he could be new. Do you know of anyone Sorin has created recently?"Â?
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Thaddeus nodded and even managed a quiet ‘certainly’ in response to Alfarinn’s proposal, mostly in an effort to stop distancing himself from the situation and consequentially his lover. He hadn’t been sure of what horrible things they might see inside a closet but when Alfarinn opened the door to reveal only a few items of clothing he felt some measure of relief. At least there was no secret cache of weapons to examine.
His relief, however, turned to apprehension as he reached for the jacket. So far everything in this apartment had been related to some scheme or other; he was convinced that even the spare clothes in the dresser had some hidden purpose. Why would it suddenly get easier now? Still, there was nothing to do but examine everything.
He pulled the jacket off the hanger with his gloved hand, pulling it closer to study. For a long moment he felt little more than a physical presence, first from one man, then another. There was a flash of an elegant hand on one shoulder. Apprehension, curiosity flickered through him. And then those same hands seemed to be all over the jacket at once, tugging, pulling. A thrill of frightened excitement.
Thaddeus nearly set the jacket down after that, thinking there was no more to sense and what he could sense was hardly clear enough to mean anything, but then an image came to his mind and he froze.
He knew that face. He would know it anywhere, even bloodied and terrified and in pain. After his name had been hammered into his head for three days he’d gone to the periodicals and looked him up, had memorized that face from every angle that photographers in that day and age could capture. Perhaps it was a morbid thing to do, considering he’d killed the boy’s father and was almost certainly responsible for the boy’s death. He tried not to analyze his own actions after that experience too much.
Now the boy whose face he knew so well seemed to be looking right at him through hazy eyes, struggling to life himself off the floor, to escape…
He released the jacket with his ungloved hand and the image faded. Alfarinn was similarly coming out of his sensing and seemed shaken. Thaddeus put his free hand on his lover’s arm, worried he had seen much of the same.
When Alfarinn explained what he had sensed everything became clear. Sorin knew Eric Gould because he had made him. Of course. How else could everything fit so perfectly together? The dagger. The jacket. Sorin’s expression when he had, fifty years ago, explained that there was a clanless vampire who must be stopped before more of their kind were hurt.
Sorin made him.
“His name was Eric Gould. He’s dead.”
The jacket slipped through his fingers as he spoke; he shook his head when it fell to the ground, pulled out of some trance, then stooped to pick it up again and put it on the bed. Even with his ability there was something he wasn’t quite positive about and thought perhaps Claire might be able to help him answer his question.
Claire.
Oh.
The first sick twist in his gut happened at the moment he realized he would have to tell Claire that Sorin had made another child, and then quite likely killed him. He supposed he might have been more…shocked, horrified, -something-, on his own behalf, but all he had felt before realizing this effected other people besides himself was a grim resolution. In a sick way it was good to know what the man he had called a friend for most of his vampiric life was capable of. He was more weary than angry, more sad then bitter. Emma’s senseless killing by Lykaios and Sorin’s hands still played more prominently in his mind than an incident that happened half a century ago, a horrific event that he had, nevertheless, fully recovered from.
“He was made about fifty years ago…I never knew he was Sorin’s child.” He sighed. “Claire should know. Unless she already does.”
Deciding he would deal with that when the time came, he moved toward Alfarinn, resting his hand on his lover’s arm once more.
“I’ll explain…what I can, but right now I think it would be best to finish and depart.”
He knew he owed Alfarinn an explanation but now did not seem the time or place and he honestly wasn’t sure of how much he could bring himself to tell. Still, he could hardly expect to exhibit inexplicable behavior and not be questioned at some point.
His relief, however, turned to apprehension as he reached for the jacket. So far everything in this apartment had been related to some scheme or other; he was convinced that even the spare clothes in the dresser had some hidden purpose. Why would it suddenly get easier now? Still, there was nothing to do but examine everything.
He pulled the jacket off the hanger with his gloved hand, pulling it closer to study. For a long moment he felt little more than a physical presence, first from one man, then another. There was a flash of an elegant hand on one shoulder. Apprehension, curiosity flickered through him. And then those same hands seemed to be all over the jacket at once, tugging, pulling. A thrill of frightened excitement.
Thaddeus nearly set the jacket down after that, thinking there was no more to sense and what he could sense was hardly clear enough to mean anything, but then an image came to his mind and he froze.
He knew that face. He would know it anywhere, even bloodied and terrified and in pain. After his name had been hammered into his head for three days he’d gone to the periodicals and looked him up, had memorized that face from every angle that photographers in that day and age could capture. Perhaps it was a morbid thing to do, considering he’d killed the boy’s father and was almost certainly responsible for the boy’s death. He tried not to analyze his own actions after that experience too much.
Now the boy whose face he knew so well seemed to be looking right at him through hazy eyes, struggling to life himself off the floor, to escape…
He released the jacket with his ungloved hand and the image faded. Alfarinn was similarly coming out of his sensing and seemed shaken. Thaddeus put his free hand on his lover’s arm, worried he had seen much of the same.
When Alfarinn explained what he had sensed everything became clear. Sorin knew Eric Gould because he had made him. Of course. How else could everything fit so perfectly together? The dagger. The jacket. Sorin’s expression when he had, fifty years ago, explained that there was a clanless vampire who must be stopped before more of their kind were hurt.
Sorin made him.
“His name was Eric Gould. He’s dead.”
The jacket slipped through his fingers as he spoke; he shook his head when it fell to the ground, pulled out of some trance, then stooped to pick it up again and put it on the bed. Even with his ability there was something he wasn’t quite positive about and thought perhaps Claire might be able to help him answer his question.
Claire.
Oh.
The first sick twist in his gut happened at the moment he realized he would have to tell Claire that Sorin had made another child, and then quite likely killed him. He supposed he might have been more…shocked, horrified, -something-, on his own behalf, but all he had felt before realizing this effected other people besides himself was a grim resolution. In a sick way it was good to know what the man he had called a friend for most of his vampiric life was capable of. He was more weary than angry, more sad then bitter. Emma’s senseless killing by Lykaios and Sorin’s hands still played more prominently in his mind than an incident that happened half a century ago, a horrific event that he had, nevertheless, fully recovered from.
“He was made about fifty years ago…I never knew he was Sorin’s child.” He sighed. “Claire should know. Unless she already does.”
Deciding he would deal with that when the time came, he moved toward Alfarinn, resting his hand on his lover’s arm once more.
“I’ll explain…what I can, but right now I think it would be best to finish and depart.”
He knew he owed Alfarinn an explanation but now did not seem the time or place and he honestly wasn’t sure of how much he could bring himself to tell. Still, he could hardly expect to exhibit inexplicable behavior and not be questioned at some point.
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn looked at Thaddeus blankly for a moment. How did Thaddeus know what he had seen? They had a bond certainly but he was unaware that he was projecting the visions to his companion. That had to be disconcerting and distracting; very careless of him.
"I'm sorry that was very inconciderate of me."
He waited for Thaddeus to touch the jacket, ready to watch carefully in case it was equally vivid. It was then that he realized that his partner had done his sensing at the same time. Alfarinn looked at the jacket and remembered his vision. The boy was wearing the jacket. Thaddeus probably felt something worse than he had from that garment.
"You knew him?"Â?
How horrible to experience such things from a person that you knew. He was Anantya; what had happened to him? From the style of dress and the strength of the images it was obvious that Eric had been a very young vampire. The jacket and the suit appeared to be from the late 40's or early 50's. It had seemed like such an innocent time then.
Thaddeus confirmed the time frame and seemed to know about the kid. Sorin did not claim him? Interesting and odd. He was wondering what had occurred and if it was somehow important to the situation or merely another secret the Elder wished to hide when Thaddeus suggested moving on.
"Of course."Â?
He frowned slightly as he followed Thaddeus to the next part of the apartment. How was Thaddeus involved? It seemed to be yet another uncomfortable situation for his lover. Was this whole apartment filled with things that somehow pertained to Thaddeus or was that a coincidence? It was hard to be objective about it and he looked forward to being able to discuss things with the others so that they got a better idea of what was going on.
"I'm sorry that was very inconciderate of me."
He waited for Thaddeus to touch the jacket, ready to watch carefully in case it was equally vivid. It was then that he realized that his partner had done his sensing at the same time. Alfarinn looked at the jacket and remembered his vision. The boy was wearing the jacket. Thaddeus probably felt something worse than he had from that garment.
"You knew him?"Â?
How horrible to experience such things from a person that you knew. He was Anantya; what had happened to him? From the style of dress and the strength of the images it was obvious that Eric had been a very young vampire. The jacket and the suit appeared to be from the late 40's or early 50's. It had seemed like such an innocent time then.
Thaddeus confirmed the time frame and seemed to know about the kid. Sorin did not claim him? Interesting and odd. He was wondering what had occurred and if it was somehow important to the situation or merely another secret the Elder wished to hide when Thaddeus suggested moving on.
"Of course."Â?
He frowned slightly as he followed Thaddeus to the next part of the apartment. How was Thaddeus involved? It seemed to be yet another uncomfortable situation for his lover. Was this whole apartment filled with things that somehow pertained to Thaddeus or was that a coincidence? It was hard to be objective about it and he looked forward to being able to discuss things with the others so that they got a better idea of what was going on.
Palmer
18 years ago
Palmer shifted his weight slightly to go from ‘at the ready’ to ‘laid back and unconcerned’ when at long last he saw Claire, Thaddeus and Alfarinn exit the apartment building and head for the car. Even so, he could still lunge into action should trouble come springing out of the bushes.
Alright, that was pretty unlikely – it appeared they would get away Scott-free. Registering that Thaddeus was carrying a jacket he certainly hadn’t come in with, he reflected that the odds of not getting caught would be better if they –didn’t- take things out of the apartment. But what did he know! Fine, loot the place, he’d let the nightsmen do the thinking.
Impatient to get going, he moved forward and opened the van’s sliding door for the remaining party members. He grinned and might have said something light hearted but suddenly the mood didn’t fit. Instead he just got out of the way so everyone could get in and settled.
“Welcome back”
Claire had, in a surprise move, decided to get away from the action, and as she was wearing the camera that meant that he and Christian had consequentially missed most of it as well. He wasn’t sure what they had found but he had an idea that it was nothing good. Just how bad the news was, however, remained to be seen.
“Where to?”
Alright, that was pretty unlikely – it appeared they would get away Scott-free. Registering that Thaddeus was carrying a jacket he certainly hadn’t come in with, he reflected that the odds of not getting caught would be better if they –didn’t- take things out of the apartment. But what did he know! Fine, loot the place, he’d let the nightsmen do the thinking.
Impatient to get going, he moved forward and opened the van’s sliding door for the remaining party members. He grinned and might have said something light hearted but suddenly the mood didn’t fit. Instead he just got out of the way so everyone could get in and settled.
“Welcome back”
Claire had, in a surprise move, decided to get away from the action, and as she was wearing the camera that meant that he and Christian had consequentially missed most of it as well. He wasn’t sure what they had found but he had an idea that it was nothing good. Just how bad the news was, however, remained to be seen.
“Where to?”
Christian Bern
18 years ago
Christian looked up from the task of watching over the camera. Claire had chosen to leave the room and he wondered if it were, in part, to give the two men some privacy in their sensing. That polite Anantya sentiment was all well and good but it would have been safer to see what was going on. There was little help for it unless he wished to intervene. Things had gone well enough so far and he reminded himself that he was not running this show. It would have been more efficient if he had... but admittedly not by much. They all had proven themselves quite capable, little idiosyncracies aside.
Palmer leaned back into some form of cool nonchalance and Christian came to the conclusion that the man was always aware of his posture and stance. Unlike his own formal bearing, Palmer seemed to strive to convey a non caring attitude. Perhaps especially when Thaddeus was around? He was not sure about that. Perhaps it was some form of friendly competition or maybe the Huntsman was concerned most by how his friend perceived him over the rest of them who were not as close?
Looking out the window, he could see the two men emerge from the building and then Claire appeared along side them as they drew closer to the vehicle. Thaddeus was carrying a jacket that he had not gone in with. Christian hoped that meant that they had found the conclusive evidence they needed to present to the Council. It was the only sane reason he could conceive of for letting anyone know that someone had been inside the apartment.
A jacket? What would a jacket prove? He hoped that it merely covered more conclusive items underneath. There could be things that would look odd to be seen walking around with and perhaps the men had feared it was something that fellow tenants would recognize as uniquely Sorin's.
As the three got into the van, Christian shifted over into the driver's seat and awaited the answer to Palmer's question.
Palmer leaned back into some form of cool nonchalance and Christian came to the conclusion that the man was always aware of his posture and stance. Unlike his own formal bearing, Palmer seemed to strive to convey a non caring attitude. Perhaps especially when Thaddeus was around? He was not sure about that. Perhaps it was some form of friendly competition or maybe the Huntsman was concerned most by how his friend perceived him over the rest of them who were not as close?
Looking out the window, he could see the two men emerge from the building and then Claire appeared along side them as they drew closer to the vehicle. Thaddeus was carrying a jacket that he had not gone in with. Christian hoped that meant that they had found the conclusive evidence they needed to present to the Council. It was the only sane reason he could conceive of for letting anyone know that someone had been inside the apartment.
A jacket? What would a jacket prove? He hoped that it merely covered more conclusive items underneath. There could be things that would look odd to be seen walking around with and perhaps the men had feared it was something that fellow tenants would recognize as uniquely Sorin's.
As the three got into the van, Christian shifted over into the driver's seat and awaited the answer to Palmer's question.
Claire
18 years ago
Claire felt that she had been not at all useful and more than a bit cowardly in her choices. She hoped the others and Thaddeus especially did not feel that she was a waste of time and a liability.
She continued to blend and followed the two men out silently, trailing along afterwards and inwardly dreading to hear what they had found. They had brought a bundle in a jacket with them and she could not guess what it must be but assumed that it was damning what ever the case.
Nearing the van, she appeared and climbed in, meekly taking her seat. Carefully unpinning the camera, Claire handed it over to Christian and sat back to wait for the outcome. After all she was in no hurry to force it along.
She continued to blend and followed the two men out silently, trailing along afterwards and inwardly dreading to hear what they had found. They had brought a bundle in a jacket with them and she could not guess what it must be but assumed that it was damning what ever the case.
Nearing the van, she appeared and climbed in, meekly taking her seat. Carefully unpinning the camera, Claire handed it over to Christian and sat back to wait for the outcome. After all she was in no hurry to force it along.
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
The remainder of the search went without incident, which was both a relief and a disappointment to Thaddeus. They had found enough to convince them of Sorin’s guilt, but whether or not they could convince Morrigan and Mai remained to be seen.
And then there was the jacket, and his dagger. He told himself that all of that was irrelevant but it would be wrong to keep Eric Gould’s existence from Claire and that meant some of the story would have to come out. It was a frustrating distraction, this information – thinking about (the handcuffs digging into his wrists) pointless things that had happened fifty years ago was the last thing he needed to be doing right now. But instead of considering their next move he was dwelling on (a blood soaked blindfold) how to keep everything in proportion.
He was quiet as they left the apartment, the jacket in his arms. Claire was nowhere in sight and he imagined that she had made her way down to the car. He didn’t blame her.
It was, therefore, something of a surprise when Claire became visible just outside the van. Thaddeus was glad for Christian and Palmer waiting in the wings – he obviously wasn’t paying attention. He set the bundle down in one seat and sat down in the other, then picked everything up again to set on his lap so Alfarinn could sit as well.
He wondered for a moment if it would be completely undignified to give his seat up to the items and curl up in Alfarinn’s lap, bury his face in Alfarinn’s shoulder. Ultimately he decided that wouldn’t exactly be an assuring image coming from one who was about to accuse the Elder of the Night of murder and treason. Instead, he nodded to Palmer, then spoke in response to Christian’s question.
“I…think we need to regroup and discuss our next step. Any preferences for where we do that?”
And then there was the jacket, and his dagger. He told himself that all of that was irrelevant but it would be wrong to keep Eric Gould’s existence from Claire and that meant some of the story would have to come out. It was a frustrating distraction, this information – thinking about (the handcuffs digging into his wrists) pointless things that had happened fifty years ago was the last thing he needed to be doing right now. But instead of considering their next move he was dwelling on (a blood soaked blindfold) how to keep everything in proportion.
He was quiet as they left the apartment, the jacket in his arms. Claire was nowhere in sight and he imagined that she had made her way down to the car. He didn’t blame her.
It was, therefore, something of a surprise when Claire became visible just outside the van. Thaddeus was glad for Christian and Palmer waiting in the wings – he obviously wasn’t paying attention. He set the bundle down in one seat and sat down in the other, then picked everything up again to set on his lap so Alfarinn could sit as well.
He wondered for a moment if it would be completely undignified to give his seat up to the items and curl up in Alfarinn’s lap, bury his face in Alfarinn’s shoulder. Ultimately he decided that wouldn’t exactly be an assuring image coming from one who was about to accuse the Elder of the Night of murder and treason. Instead, he nodded to Palmer, then spoke in response to Christian’s question.
“I…think we need to regroup and discuss our next step. Any preferences for where we do that?”
Alfarinn
18 years ago
Alfarinn watched Thaddeus with sideways glances as they made their way to the car. His companion had weathered the day with remarkable strength and dignity; though Thaddeus was probably being hard on himself somewhere inside those deep thoughts and that far away gaze.
He waited until both Claire and Thaddeus got into the vehicle before stepping in after them and closing the door. Settling himself comfortably in the seat next to his companion, Alfarinn stretched his long legs into the space between the driver and passenger seat of the van and breathed a sigh of relief.
They did not find what he had hoped but he felt that they had found enough to make believers out of their friends and the other elders. It was perhaps not enough for the Council but with help perhaps they could find more. He would have considered the day a victory if it were not for the hardships that it had put the Anantya through. His quest had always been justice for Emma, no matter what, but this trail had lead him to understand the consequences of that justice were going to hurt innocent people.
Like the man seated next to him. Alfarinn stretched an arm around Thaddeus' shoulders and held him close. He would have loved to have some time alone for the both of them but there were things left to do. His mother always told him that he was not going to like being a grown up. Tonight was one of those nights.
Considering the question of where to go, he could only think of one trustworthy place.
"The Towers, if you Anantya do not mind. We cannot be seen together at the Manor and I would not want our conversation to fall on just anyone's ears."Â?
He grinned at Christian and commanded.
"Home Jeeves!"Â?
before leaning his cheek lightly against Thaddeus's head and closing his eyes.
((OOC: Everyone out! Out I say! ))
He waited until both Claire and Thaddeus got into the vehicle before stepping in after them and closing the door. Settling himself comfortably in the seat next to his companion, Alfarinn stretched his long legs into the space between the driver and passenger seat of the van and breathed a sigh of relief.
They did not find what he had hoped but he felt that they had found enough to make believers out of their friends and the other elders. It was perhaps not enough for the Council but with help perhaps they could find more. He would have considered the day a victory if it were not for the hardships that it had put the Anantya through. His quest had always been justice for Emma, no matter what, but this trail had lead him to understand the consequences of that justice were going to hurt innocent people.
Like the man seated next to him. Alfarinn stretched an arm around Thaddeus' shoulders and held him close. He would have loved to have some time alone for the both of them but there were things left to do. His mother always told him that he was not going to like being a grown up. Tonight was one of those nights.
Considering the question of where to go, he could only think of one trustworthy place.
"The Towers, if you Anantya do not mind. We cannot be seen together at the Manor and I would not want our conversation to fall on just anyone's ears."Â?
He grinned at Christian and commanded.
"Home Jeeves!"Â?
before leaning his cheek lightly against Thaddeus's head and closing his eyes.
((OOC: Everyone out! Out I say! ))