Step two
The phone jarred Bastian from the best dream he'd had in ages. He and Reign were horseback riding back at school, and the vision of sun shining on her lusterous hair, and pert nose, had turned his love filled heart to one full of lust. But as the phone rang again, and he felt the last vestiges of the dream fade, he groaned and opened his eyes.
Growling into the mouthpiece, apologizing, and then thanking the caller, Bastian returned the phone to it's cradle, and slowly sat up.
"Merde", He grumbled, when his head throbbed. Morning headaches came and went, but this morning he had no time to wait it out. Things had to be done, and he refused to delay further.
Yawning, Bastian ran a hand vigorously over his face and crawled out of bed. Looking through his shave kit in the bath, he found the pill box, and did what he could to try and eliminate the thumping in his head. Blinking at his image in the mirror for a few seconds, he picked up his razor and rubbed the two weeks of growth on his chin. Whether it was his heritage, or just genetic make up, but Bastian had a healthy beard, and had had since high school. Luckily for him, he also had a healthy head of hair, but very little in the way of it across the rest of his body. While he wasn't terribly vain, he did appreciate the fact that he wouldn't be going bald any time soon.
Dropping the razor back into his bag, unused, Bastian washed the sleep from his body, and dressed quickly after. Picking up his laptop, in favor over the Blackberry this morning, he checked his mail, and smiled. There were three important messages waiting for him this morning, and only one had to do with work.
Over the past several months Bastian had been working with an investigator in trying to locate Reign. Never in his life could he have imagined how such a woman would be able to almost vanish from sight. When her sister Helen had given him the name of Reign's coach, he had turned around and given that information to the investigator, as well as the data that the coach had his base in New York City. Later that day the report came in that the coach had been located, and would be trailed. He had received two reports as false leads to different cities, but when one came in mentioning Nachton, and that coincided with a necessary trip to check on a client's horse, Bastian saw it as an omen.
Today's e-mail was an update, and Bastian had confirmation that Reign's coach had indeed been traveling back and forth to Nachton for several weeks now. He felt he could finally be truly excited, and put off the other mail to deal with later. For now he was getting ready to go out and find his woman.
"Cara mia..." His lips let the words roll over them for the first time in months. Sentimental in this one area of his life only, Bastian had tried not to let himself become too anxious about finding her, for self preservation measures only. But how could he not feel one hundred and eighty degrees different now? This had to be it. She had to be here. He had to make things right. He hoped she would understand.
Buttoning his slacks, and tucking in his polo shirt, he was now dressed, and just in time. There was a knock on the door, and he opened it to his breakfast. Signing the bill and tipping the man generously, Bastian didn't take the extra time to set the small table, but instead pulled the cart to the edge of the bed where he sat down. Within ten minutes the plates were empty, and he was swallowing the dregs of his coffee. Glancing into the mirror across from the bed, he was shocked to find a smile on his face. So shocked it took him a few seconds to realize that's what was different about his face.
Shaking off the lack of focus, he pushed the food cart back outside his room, brushed his teeth, and then slipped on his shoes. Putting his earring back on, and slipping his room card and money clip into his pocket, Bastian attached his cell phone to his belt, and departed the room.
The first step of many to come...
Rubbing his eyes, Bastian carried his suitcase to the front desk, and set it on the floor next to his feet. He had been driving for over five hours straight, all the way from Chicago, and was just ready to sleep. Eyeing the clerk behind the counter warily, Bastian asked for one of the larger suites available, and booked it for two weeks. He had called from Chicago, after getting the information on the Piazza off hotels.com, and reserved the room ahead, so the process went quickly. He left an order for an enormous breakfast to be delivered at 9am, and carried his own bag to the elevator.
He hated like hell to be going to bed now...now that he was so close...but Bastian wasn't one of the world's most cheerful of people even under the best circumstances. It was imperative if she was truly here, that their first meeting after all these years went as smoothly as possible, and for that to have a chance, he couldn't risk being tired. A tired Bastian, could be a very grumpy Bastian, and a grumpy Bastian was not who he wanted to greet her.
Ten years...ten years, and some odd months. Sometimes it was hard to imagine where the time had gone. Often it seemed like the few years in college had been a dream. More often than not she seemed to have been a dream. And then he would pick up the photo album of their Mediterranean cruise, and it was like he was standing next to her again. Her soft, blonde hair caressing his cheek as the breeze blew over them. He could still smell her clean, fresh scent, and taste her sweetness on his tongue, as if they had just made love. It was those vivid memories that often nearly drove him insane.
He tried hard not to get his hopes up again, but he really felt that he had reached the end of his journey this time, so it was nearly impossible not to get excited. Walking almost mechanically towards his room, his mind reran the past few weeks, more to reaffirm how he got to where he was now, and that it was not just another dream.
Helen...such a 'tesoro piccolo' she was. Bastian knew had she not called, and told him about Reign's coach, he wouldn't be in Nachton now. Bastian envisioned the once small fry was now growing into such a beautiful, young woman, and he was very happy that they had kept in touch. Even now he could see her older sister coming through Helen in her temper, and it gave him a kick to see similar fire in Helen's eyes. As soon as he had accomplished his goal he'd make a point of sending Helen a huge bouquet of roses. Though she was away at college herself now, Bastian would find a way to get them to her.
Once inside his room, Bastian placed his valise on the stool, and grabbed his Blackberry. He emailed a note to his secretary down in the Louisiana office about the roses, and his whereabouts, then checked to see if anything pressing had come in during the trip. Once he had responded to the six most critical items, filed away another eight lesser issues, he silenced the small tool, along with his cell phone, and unpacked.
Not one to wear jewelry, he only had one small sapphire and gold stud to remove from his ear. Twirling it around in his fingers, somewhat hypnotized by it's brilliance, he didn't notice when stone turned into her eyes. Placing it on top of his money clip, Bastian folded his clothes and placed them on the dresser next to the other items. Dragging his tired body to the bathroom, he showered off the grime of the drive, and then almost floated with his eyes closed to the inviting bed. An eight o'clock wake up call would rouse him plenty early to be dressed and ready for breakfast.
After that, his day would have one focus only, and it would prevail. He would see to it.
Bastian
18 years ago
Bastian
18 years ago
Step three...
Bastian knew he had to meet with Mr. Casters first, and resolve his horse problem. The man had contacted Bastian all the way down in New Orleans and hired him to come up to look at his horse, and was paying good money for the act. Bastian had worked long and hard over the past few years, building up his reputation and practice, and couldn't just let it fall to ruin now. Besides, he wanted to see this horse for himself.
Driving the Hummer out of town was a relaxing way to start the day, and nothing like what he faced when he hit the streets, and highways in and around New Orleans. Bastian found beauty in the land outside almost all cities, but here in Nachton there was just a little less town to go through to reach that beauty.
The directions to the horse farm were sitting on the seat next to him, and simple enough that he found Caster's place quickly. Parking the Hummer next to a Mercedes in the drive, Bastian walked to the front door and knocked. Mr. Caster himself answered, having expected Bastian after the call he'd made from the road. As it turned out Caster had no plans and was thrilled to hear Bastian was in town already.
Walking with Bastian, first through the house, and then out to the stables, Caster explained the symptoms the horse had, and Bastian took mental notes. He had already been given these details earlier, and had a suspicion as to what he thought the problem could be, but would never make a diagnosis over the phone, or by email for that matter.
The horse was impressive, but Bastian knew that before he ever laid eyes on the animal. Son to Easy Goer, and Silvery Honey, and grandson to Alydar, Caster's Companion never quite made a name on the racing circuit due to a career early injury. He had already sired winners though, and was continually sought for stud services. Mr. Caster was nearly frantic now, thinking his main source of income might need to be put down. Bastian had tried to calm and reassure the man, that from the described symptoms he doubted the condition was irreversible, but finally gave up and decided to wait till he had concrete information to offer.
Setting up a harness, Bastian moved Caster's Companion into it, and secured the horse. Normally Bastian had an assistant handle the horse while he did his check, but being out of town made that impossible on such short notice. He tried to dissuade owners from helping because usually their tension was passed along to the animal, and wound up making things worse. The little trick Bastian had learned not so long ago, was his hidden ace, and he tuned into the horse now, in an attempt to not only further calm the animal, but in an effort to try and pin down the feelings of the horse.
At a point in the past, Bastian found he had the ability to understand dogs, and communicate with them in a way unlike most people. Whether it was because of his new alter ego, or not, he considered it to be. It just made sense that with his ability to change into a wolf, he'd have some closer relationship to all things canine.
However, he found not long after that he also seemed to have an overall propensity towards almost all animals, with the exception of felines. The lack of feline empathy wasn't too surprising either, what with the natural animosity between dogs and cats. And maybe just his being a vet, and loving animals and wanting to help them gave him an edge, and nothing more. That aspect of his current life he hadn't really delved into too deeply yet, but rather just happily accepted. In any event, it was serving to help him handle the animals he needed to treat, and by shutting out all things around him but the animal, he was starting to see where the pain seemed to be located.
He went through the normal routine of checking the horse's vitals. Rectal temperature was 100, good; resperation 10; pulse 40; eyes, nose, ears, gums all good color and moist. Pinch test to neck confirmed no dehydration issues. It was, however, evident that the horse hadn't been eating well, and was thinner than normal, so there was definitely something wrong.
Running his hands along the muscles of the legs, then the neck, under belly and then his spine, Bastian stilled with the spinal cord beneath his hand. Something was there, he was sure of it.
Equine protozoal myeloencephalitis was Bastian's initial suspicion, and seemed to now be confirmed by his limited inspection of the horse. He drew some blood, and spinal fluid, and told Mr. Caster what he thought the problem was, and how he would confirm or deny it once lab results came back. However, as a precaution he gave the man medicine to help east the horse's back pain, and set up a follow up appointment for two days later. By then he'd have the lab results back and could discuss a treatment plan.
Lastly he explained that if the disorder was myeloencephalitis, what precautions could be taken to prevent the other horses from ingesting the parasites, and how to head off more infections. These precautions would be good to take even if Bastian's initial diagnosis was proven wrong.
Packing everything up in his bag, and removing the harness from the horse, Caster's walked Bastian to his car, seemingly much more relieved that he had been upon their meeting. Setting the bag in the back end of the Hummer, Bastian shook hands with Caster, and was back on the road about two hours after arriving.
Bastian knew he had to meet with Mr. Casters first, and resolve his horse problem. The man had contacted Bastian all the way down in New Orleans and hired him to come up to look at his horse, and was paying good money for the act. Bastian had worked long and hard over the past few years, building up his reputation and practice, and couldn't just let it fall to ruin now. Besides, he wanted to see this horse for himself.
Driving the Hummer out of town was a relaxing way to start the day, and nothing like what he faced when he hit the streets, and highways in and around New Orleans. Bastian found beauty in the land outside almost all cities, but here in Nachton there was just a little less town to go through to reach that beauty.
The directions to the horse farm were sitting on the seat next to him, and simple enough that he found Caster's place quickly. Parking the Hummer next to a Mercedes in the drive, Bastian walked to the front door and knocked. Mr. Caster himself answered, having expected Bastian after the call he'd made from the road. As it turned out Caster had no plans and was thrilled to hear Bastian was in town already.
Walking with Bastian, first through the house, and then out to the stables, Caster explained the symptoms the horse had, and Bastian took mental notes. He had already been given these details earlier, and had a suspicion as to what he thought the problem could be, but would never make a diagnosis over the phone, or by email for that matter.
The horse was impressive, but Bastian knew that before he ever laid eyes on the animal. Son to Easy Goer, and Silvery Honey, and grandson to Alydar, Caster's Companion never quite made a name on the racing circuit due to a career early injury. He had already sired winners though, and was continually sought for stud services. Mr. Caster was nearly frantic now, thinking his main source of income might need to be put down. Bastian had tried to calm and reassure the man, that from the described symptoms he doubted the condition was irreversible, but finally gave up and decided to wait till he had concrete information to offer.
Setting up a harness, Bastian moved Caster's Companion into it, and secured the horse. Normally Bastian had an assistant handle the horse while he did his check, but being out of town made that impossible on such short notice. He tried to dissuade owners from helping because usually their tension was passed along to the animal, and wound up making things worse. The little trick Bastian had learned not so long ago, was his hidden ace, and he tuned into the horse now, in an attempt to not only further calm the animal, but in an effort to try and pin down the feelings of the horse.
At a point in the past, Bastian found he had the ability to understand dogs, and communicate with them in a way unlike most people. Whether it was because of his new alter ego, or not, he considered it to be. It just made sense that with his ability to change into a wolf, he'd have some closer relationship to all things canine.
However, he found not long after that he also seemed to have an overall propensity towards almost all animals, with the exception of felines. The lack of feline empathy wasn't too surprising either, what with the natural animosity between dogs and cats. And maybe just his being a vet, and loving animals and wanting to help them gave him an edge, and nothing more. That aspect of his current life he hadn't really delved into too deeply yet, but rather just happily accepted. In any event, it was serving to help him handle the animals he needed to treat, and by shutting out all things around him but the animal, he was starting to see where the pain seemed to be located.
He went through the normal routine of checking the horse's vitals. Rectal temperature was 100, good; resperation 10; pulse 40; eyes, nose, ears, gums all good color and moist. Pinch test to neck confirmed no dehydration issues. It was, however, evident that the horse hadn't been eating well, and was thinner than normal, so there was definitely something wrong.
Running his hands along the muscles of the legs, then the neck, under belly and then his spine, Bastian stilled with the spinal cord beneath his hand. Something was there, he was sure of it.
Equine protozoal myeloencephalitis was Bastian's initial suspicion, and seemed to now be confirmed by his limited inspection of the horse. He drew some blood, and spinal fluid, and told Mr. Caster what he thought the problem was, and how he would confirm or deny it once lab results came back. However, as a precaution he gave the man medicine to help east the horse's back pain, and set up a follow up appointment for two days later. By then he'd have the lab results back and could discuss a treatment plan.
Lastly he explained that if the disorder was myeloencephalitis, what precautions could be taken to prevent the other horses from ingesting the parasites, and how to head off more infections. These precautions would be good to take even if Bastian's initial diagnosis was proven wrong.
Packing everything up in his bag, and removing the harness from the horse, Caster's walked Bastian to his car, seemingly much more relieved that he had been upon their meeting. Setting the bag in the back end of the Hummer, Bastian shook hands with Caster, and was back on the road about two hours after arriving.
Bastian
18 years ago
Step four...
Driving along the highway, thoughts scattered, Bastian wondered how it was a guy would have such an expensive horse, and not take better care of it. Not that Caster's stables had been kept terribly, but if his suspicions about the protozoal myeloencephalitis were true, by keeping the corrals, stables, and paddocks just a bit cleaner Bastian was sure a lot more of these cases could be prevented.
Stopping by the post office once he'd reached town, Bastian had his specimen shipped over-night to the lab, and gave strict instructions to be called, or paged once the results were in. Returning to the Hummer, Bastian checked the directions on the paper he had left on the front seat. There were several sets that pertained to the possible location of the pool coach, and one other that would lead him to where he would meet his 'pack' for the first time.
Sitting back in the seat, Bastian looked out the windshield into nothing. Finding Reign was paramount, but this new news about a 'pack' was still something he had very mixed emotions on. He still couldn't really believe the e-mail he'd received from Jim. For so long Bastian had tried finding out information on Michael, and for so long Jim had come up empty, that Bas had pretty much given up hope. And then now, when he was so close to finding Reign, word of Michael had also surfaced. Not 'good' word, but at least word that put an end to any further need for the use of Jim.
It wasn't surprising to hear his 'father' was dead, and had that been all the news, Bastian would have been extremely angry. He still had so many questions about himself and his 'condition', that had Michael been the only source of answers, and was now dead, Bastian might have torn into someone good with his anger. Even as far as he had come in controlling his anger, some things were still bound to set him off.
Jim had found, through researching Michael, his time around the college campus had then led him to an island in the Bahamas. Somehow Michael always stayed just one step ahead of Jim, but fortunate for Bastian had left a small trail of details.
Michael's family had lived all over, much like gypsys, but Jim had found an older aunt of Michael's on the same island where Michael had died. The aunt was quite elderly, and as she talked of her nephew her mind wandered. Jim apologized for not getting anything more concrete from the woman. But he truly thought that now he had done as much for Bastian as he could, and he would be sending his final bill. Everything that Bastian had given him to go on had proved useful, but now there just wasn't anything else to check out.
Having memories of strange things had coincided with Bastian learning more about being a wolf. At the initial onslaught he was terribly confused by the images that played out in his mind. Thankfully none of the memories were very vivid, or pestering, but came and went infrequently and randomly. Once he realized the importance of the thoughts, he wished they would become more regular, because they seemed to hold answers. But he wasn't that lucky, and it had taken all these years to find them to be an aid in his search.
Bastian was being sent a full report via messenger to his hotel room in Nachton, with the bill, but Jim had to give him the bare bones details right away. Bastian didn't tell him that even without the meger words, he thought he'd found what he was searching for here, in Nachton. It had to be more than a coincidence, but that was yet to play out. If what he suspected was true, Bastian was thankful Jim didn't dig up anymore than he had.
So now he had to decide. Should he continue looking for the coach, and Reign, or should he seek out the pack. Either way he was on the verge of coming into contact with something that would again alter his life in a huge way.
Vyusher R’asa...it wasn't Italian, of that he was sure. He hadn't even been able begin to know how to spell it, but he could hear the word now. The memories had begun to go from simple images to scents and sounds as well. And the sound of that word...that name...was too vivid not to mean something.
After sitting in the vehicle for what seemed like an hour, but was really only about ten minutes, Bastian pulled out of the parking spot and was back on the road.
Driving along the highway, thoughts scattered, Bastian wondered how it was a guy would have such an expensive horse, and not take better care of it. Not that Caster's stables had been kept terribly, but if his suspicions about the protozoal myeloencephalitis were true, by keeping the corrals, stables, and paddocks just a bit cleaner Bastian was sure a lot more of these cases could be prevented.
Stopping by the post office once he'd reached town, Bastian had his specimen shipped over-night to the lab, and gave strict instructions to be called, or paged once the results were in. Returning to the Hummer, Bastian checked the directions on the paper he had left on the front seat. There were several sets that pertained to the possible location of the pool coach, and one other that would lead him to where he would meet his 'pack' for the first time.
Sitting back in the seat, Bastian looked out the windshield into nothing. Finding Reign was paramount, but this new news about a 'pack' was still something he had very mixed emotions on. He still couldn't really believe the e-mail he'd received from Jim. For so long Bastian had tried finding out information on Michael, and for so long Jim had come up empty, that Bas had pretty much given up hope. And then now, when he was so close to finding Reign, word of Michael had also surfaced. Not 'good' word, but at least word that put an end to any further need for the use of Jim.
It wasn't surprising to hear his 'father' was dead, and had that been all the news, Bastian would have been extremely angry. He still had so many questions about himself and his 'condition', that had Michael been the only source of answers, and was now dead, Bastian might have torn into someone good with his anger. Even as far as he had come in controlling his anger, some things were still bound to set him off.
Jim had found, through researching Michael, his time around the college campus had then led him to an island in the Bahamas. Somehow Michael always stayed just one step ahead of Jim, but fortunate for Bastian had left a small trail of details.
Michael's family had lived all over, much like gypsys, but Jim had found an older aunt of Michael's on the same island where Michael had died. The aunt was quite elderly, and as she talked of her nephew her mind wandered. Jim apologized for not getting anything more concrete from the woman. But he truly thought that now he had done as much for Bastian as he could, and he would be sending his final bill. Everything that Bastian had given him to go on had proved useful, but now there just wasn't anything else to check out.
Having memories of strange things had coincided with Bastian learning more about being a wolf. At the initial onslaught he was terribly confused by the images that played out in his mind. Thankfully none of the memories were very vivid, or pestering, but came and went infrequently and randomly. Once he realized the importance of the thoughts, he wished they would become more regular, because they seemed to hold answers. But he wasn't that lucky, and it had taken all these years to find them to be an aid in his search.
Bastian was being sent a full report via messenger to his hotel room in Nachton, with the bill, but Jim had to give him the bare bones details right away. Bastian didn't tell him that even without the meger words, he thought he'd found what he was searching for here, in Nachton. It had to be more than a coincidence, but that was yet to play out. If what he suspected was true, Bastian was thankful Jim didn't dig up anymore than he had.
So now he had to decide. Should he continue looking for the coach, and Reign, or should he seek out the pack. Either way he was on the verge of coming into contact with something that would again alter his life in a huge way.
Vyusher R’asa...it wasn't Italian, of that he was sure. He hadn't even been able begin to know how to spell it, but he could hear the word now. The memories had begun to go from simple images to scents and sounds as well. And the sound of that word...that name...was too vivid not to mean something.
After sitting in the vehicle for what seemed like an hour, but was really only about ten minutes, Bastian pulled out of the parking spot and was back on the road.
Bastian
18 years ago
Step five...
This time he didn't have far to drive, but it was far enough to give him time to sweat. Sitting in the Hummer, parked across the street from the pool hall, Bastian could almost feel the bead of perspiration trickle down between his shoulder blades, as his hands felt slippery on the steering wheel. He laughed to himself, and at himself, knowing she was the one person in the world who could make him nervous. Even after all this time, or perhaps because of all this time. All he kept thinking was that she would give him just enough time to explain.
It would be a major miracle if she did though. He knew he must have hurt her...tremendously. That was a fact he hadn't been able to escape, and he could still hear her sister Helen when she told him years ago that Reign and Vince had gotten married. At least with her divorced, he no longer felt the knife in his heart, for that meant there again was a chance for him. It didn't surprise him that she had married Vince, possibly rebounding from their relationship, nor did it surprise him they had divorced. Vince was...is, he supposed, a nice guy, but nothing like the guy Reign needed. That was Bastian's place. and would be forever.
Now he just needed the opportunity to again make her see that.
Stepping from the monstrous vehicle, Bastian locked it with the fob on his key ring, and started across the street. Sliding his palms down the sides of his slacks, he dropped the key ring into his pocket, and took a huge breath as he reached for the door handle.
(ooc - out and to be continued...HERE)
This time he didn't have far to drive, but it was far enough to give him time to sweat. Sitting in the Hummer, parked across the street from the pool hall, Bastian could almost feel the bead of perspiration trickle down between his shoulder blades, as his hands felt slippery on the steering wheel. He laughed to himself, and at himself, knowing she was the one person in the world who could make him nervous. Even after all this time, or perhaps because of all this time. All he kept thinking was that she would give him just enough time to explain.
It would be a major miracle if she did though. He knew he must have hurt her...tremendously. That was a fact he hadn't been able to escape, and he could still hear her sister Helen when she told him years ago that Reign and Vince had gotten married. At least with her divorced, he no longer felt the knife in his heart, for that meant there again was a chance for him. It didn't surprise him that she had married Vince, possibly rebounding from their relationship, nor did it surprise him they had divorced. Vince was...is, he supposed, a nice guy, but nothing like the guy Reign needed. That was Bastian's place. and would be forever.
Now he just needed the opportunity to again make her see that.
Stepping from the monstrous vehicle, Bastian locked it with the fob on his key ring, and started across the street. Sliding his palms down the sides of his slacks, he dropped the key ring into his pocket, and took a huge breath as he reached for the door handle.
(ooc - out and to be continued...HERE)