Post by Thee Independent on Aug 12, 2005 14:00:42 GMT -5
Carried over from "Ruined Intentions"
Muse
Jones' heartbeat is throbbing in his ears and it is all he can hear. He can tell that he has lost time and he immediately thinks of his bloodied head. Upon focusing on this older injury, though, he realizes that the epicenter of his pain is lower than his scalp, instead pulsing at the nape of his neck. He reaches back to finger this new sore spot and winces, but not before realizing that his hands are no longer bound. He can hear his own scuffing above the pounding in his head and he can feel that his face is flushed hot, but he cannot see still. Wherever he is, the air is dry and stale…like the air in the caverns that he left behind not too long ago.
Or was it long ago? He can’t be certain, now.
Jones
After a brief examination of his condition, Jones said the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, shit."
He was getting awfully tired of being hit in the back of the head, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about that.
Now, where was he? Tremere Central, probably. Some kind of jail cell, if he would hazard a guess. Awaiting a meeting with the Vampire of Oz.
He stumbled forward and tried to feel around the walls (if any) of his location, to get an idea of where he was.
Badger Coleman
His fingers seek out the cold, crumbling walls of the underground halls that nearly claimed his life and that somehow stole Three from him. The cool air scathes down his thirsty throat as he shuffles about in the oppressive darkness. Finally, as he manages a fairly straight line, his fingers jam against an unexpected surface. Smooth plaster. Feeling about like the estranged brother of Helen Keller, he can tell that he is in some sort of apparently barren room, alone and unattended.
That does not last long, though. The yellow slit of a cat's eye cracks through a wall as the seal is broken and light is allowed in. He did not feel a handle before in his search, but his fingernails had caught at the fine lines where the cracks in the wall betrayed the presence of the door. More importantly, he can see again.
He recognizes the pitiless voice before his eyes can adjust well enough to see more than the stolid inky silhouette of a person standing in the now open doorway. “Get up, Mage.” Badger waits for Jones to stand fully and then holds out his hand and a plume of flame erupts within his palm, hissing angrily and the very epitome of its Master’s personality. He steps into the room two steps and moves to a wall lamp that is stationed just high enough that the Flambeau missed it in his searching. He lifts the glass encasing with his free hand, lights a ready torch within, and then replaces the glass. The hungry light of the fire sends shifty illumination scrambling across the shadows.
The Tremere moves back to the door, the blaze still licking at his hand, and he stares hard at Jones. He has made his point. The Mage is on their territory now.
Jones
Jones winced at the sudden influx of light into the dank room. He raised a hand to shield his aching eyes from the light. At least he could see again.
'If they were just going to knock me out and lock me in a room, why the hell did they tie me up and blind me to begin with?' Pondered the Mage.
Jones arched an eyebrow at Badger when his eyes had ajusted.
"So, you're here to take me to the boss, huh?" Asked Jones questioningly.
Daniel Anklar
"My business is none of yours." Badger replies curtly and snaps his hand into a fist, snuffing the fire. He moves over into the corner nearest the lamp and folds his arms across his chest, staring obtrusively at the Mage. The silence between the two stretches like taffy before another shadow darkens the light of the still open doorway. It pauses and then steps in and shuts the door behind him.
Jones hears this new man take a breath as he prepares to speak and the Mage becomes keenly aware of what had been strange about the silence between himself and Badger. Only one of them and been breathing.
"Please, tell me your name, Tradition, and House so that I know how to refer to you." The voice is calm and respectful and might be almost welcoming, if it were not for the circumstances that the Flambeau has found himself in. "You are in the home of House Tremere, as I am certain you have surmised, and you are our guest. Nothing unpleasant will befall you so long as you remain peaceful." He glances at Badger as he says this last part, as if suspecting the man's earlier threats.
Jones
Jones arched an eyebrow. This was a really weird turn of events. Held as a sort-of guest by the Tremere. He really expected to have his blood spilled across the ground by now, and yet they continued to surprise him. The mage leaned against the wall.
"Duely noted." He said to Badger, and then glanced at the shadow.
"My name is Jones bani Hermes, Initiate Exemptus of House Flamebeau. I will also inform you that I'll be completely peacful so long as my blood, organs and sanity remain as they currently are, so I'm happy we're on the same level. I'd like to know why I've ended up as your guest, rather then as your dinner." Asked Jones plainly.
Daniel Anklar
Jones finds that his grasp on the Tapestry is tunnel-visioning and fading, making him feel less Awakened than he has been in years. Maybe it has something to do with his location, or maybe it is just a coincidence, but he is left with only his normal senses to detect things, which does not help where blood magic is concerned.
Daniel smiles and exhales through his nose in a silent laugh, amused by Jones' concept of vampires. He combs his hand through the air, dismissing the brooding Badger who exits immediately, no questions asked.
"Understood, though the status of your sanity depends entirely upon what your quest is," he smiles, having made a small joke of his own, and continues, "And Mages are too sour. Especially Hermetics. They require a good deal of sugar." The jest is not meant to be threatening, but the topic is unsettling. Jones would have been wiser not to bring it up.
"My name is Daniel Anklar and I am the man that can help you and send you on your way. So, Jones of House Flambeau, answer a couple of questions for me and perhaps I can then do the same for you." He is a mild mannered man, pleasant and friendly and hardly what most would imagine when thinking of the Tremere. Even other vampires.
"Why were you in the Ruins? Did you intend to enter the tunnels and if so, for what purpose?"
Jones
Ahriman was not paticularly happy about Daniel going on about how Magi tasted, but so far that was all the threat he was picking up from this man. But then, vampires were all about deception. He'd have to keep an eye open.
Jones extended his hand, and flicked his wrist, summoning a poliroid photo into his middle and forefinger. It was a picture of two youths. One obviously Jones with his blue hair and irritated expression, probably at something Three had said. The other was Neil, with the same frame as his friend, dull brown hair, blue eyes and dressed in cloths that were splattered with paint, old and new. Neil was smiling, and staring excitedly right into the camera, a moment caught in time.
The mage grimely offered the photo to Dan.
"Him. I was looking for him. Or rather, what remains of him. His name is Neil Rogers, a Flambeau like me. Back when our respective houses were at war, Neil and a few other Magi went into those tunnels, thinking that there might be a Tremere Chantry in there. They... didn't come out." Jones stifled a burst of sorrow and shame that welted up in his chest. Now was not the time.
Daniel Anklar
Dan studies the picture thoughtfully, oblivious to the warring emotions behind Jones' words. "Hmm.." He looks up, still thinking, and then says, "Excuse me." He steps out of the room, replaced right away by Badger, and Jones and the vampire stare each other down for at least ten minutes before Dan returns. He dismisses the other Tremere immediately and begins to talk as he hands the picture back to the Mage.
"I do recognize this man. And I can do you one better than just telling you where I last saw him." He is serious now. Maybe he did pick up on how the Flambeau is feeling after all, or perhaps this is just his business demeanor.
"I can tell you the name of the man who can without a doubt tell you not only where this Neil Rogers has been, but also where he is now." He watches this register in his guest's eyes and then continues, "Unfortunately, we have lost contact with both men. The name of the man you need to find is Stefan Darwin. I believe him to still be in town, but I honestly do not know where."
He paces as he talks now, thinking just a step ahead of his own speech. "Being that we also would like to know where Stefan is, I will set you on the most likely paths to finding him and I will send someone with you to help you. The places you may end up going may not be friendly to mortals. Once Stefan is found, our middle-man will return to us with the information we need and you will be free to act in whatever way you feel necessary."
He turns to look directly at Jones now, "Does this sound fair to you?" He continues on without waiting for the man's answer. "Of course, there is one other thing that I must ask of you. It will be important for you to do your searching at night and your resting during the day, just as our associate must. I think you will find your search much more revealing when conducted during evening hours anyway. You are free to go where you must, including your Chantry, and he will not follow where it is not appropriate. But should you atempt to lose him and he reports this to us, we will believe that you are being deceitful and this will fall heavily upon your head at a later time."
Jones
Jones and the vampired stared at each other as they waited for Dan to come back.
"Sooo... Did you see South Park last night?"
Silence.
"How about them Kings, huh?"
Silence.
"Not a hockey fan?"
More Silence.
"Tch, what is it with me and uncomfortable silences tonight?"
Thankfully, Dan didn't take long, and he brought back something surprising. Dan brought Jones hope that his best friend might not be dead. It took a lot for Jones to not leap across the room, grab Dan by the collar and start demanding information. But this situation was very weird. The mage was still quite certain he should be dead.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah." Said Jones, holding his hands up. "Not that I don't appricate it, but why exactly are you offering this deal? Whatever happened to the Paranoia? Why are you guys trusting an outsider like myself to help you find this guy? Wasn't there a war that happened not to long ago? Why are you willing to trust me with this?"
Daniel Anklar
Daniel is an intellectual man. He was always the unappreciated kid in high school class that others paid to do their Algebra homework. His Sire had chosen him specifically for the unique way that he thinks, having monitored how quickly Dan seized a claim in the stagnant scientific world. He had been snatched away just a moment before his name became known, but that suited him fine. He has never been the kind of person to be remembered anyway.
Still, having sat quietly for so long in the back seat, his grasp on others is enviable. He knows how to please, how to sedate, and how to break through barriers. He calmly worked within the new strictures that were predestined amongst this new set of peers, nothing really changing, until he attained the status that he was content with. He did not shove, he did not backstab, and he only schemed when pressed into moral constraints.
He does not feel like a man that has power, but it is dangerous to underestimate leaders amongst Kindred, especially within the Tremere.
There is nothing else within his eyes besides benign politics and a good nature. He expected Jones’ questions and he is prepared for them. He is not forcing the Mage into a pact and without the necessity for the Flambeau’s help, Dan is really unconcerned with whether he will be turned down or not. It is easiest to offer aid when one has nothing to lose.
“Well, last I checked, the war was no longer at our back door. And it was never wanted, anyway. The way I see it, neither of us will suffer from this. If you find Darwin, it kills two birds with one stone. You get your answers and we get ours.” He shrugs and continues, “And in so doing, we have completed a peaceable pact, which is the first step towards a possible if not probable future between our Houses. Somebody has to take the first step, after all. And besides, we cannot simply release you, because then there is nothing keeping you from bringing holy fire to our door and there is nothing preventing us from using you as an excuse to seek revenge. And we don’t need you here – we aren’t recruiting right now.” His smile is wry, but the joke is not malicious.
“So you see, this appears to be a reasonable solution all around. No harm done to either party, no losses, just solutions.”
Jones
Even with all of his distrust, and his general hate of all things that preyed on his species, Jones could find no fault with the man's logic. The back of his mind kicking and screaming for him to accept the damn deal and go out to find Neil didn't hinder things, either.
Jones leaned back and folded his arms. "... Fine. I'll help you look for this Darwin guy. You have a deal." He breathed.
He could be censored for this. Even branded. Not that He had to tell the Order, or paticularly cared what they thought. Those bastards had failed him too many times, and he'd take a brand for Neil anyday.
Clearing those thoughts out of his head, Jones started asking questions.
"Where did you last see Neil? What happened? Where did you last know where Darwin was? Did you try scrying for the guy? Got a photo of him, or something personal of his with a reasonate attachment?" He asked pointedly.
Daniel Anklar
Dan waits until the barrage of questions slack off, listening patiently and inwardly pleased that the Mage understood everything that he said. “I last saw your friend here, within our walls, but it was a long time ago. Darwin will have to tell you the rest of his history. Ironically, Stefan also was last seen here. And I have nothing of his to be of aid to you; he cleared out his quarters completely before leaving unexpectedly.”
He shrugs apologetically and moves on, “Now I will need some time to compile directions for you and a few useful facts about the man you are seeking. I am sure you already understand that I will require you to spend the approaching day here in this cell. Pass the time sleeping, preparing, or however you wish. We will speak again in approximately fifteen hours at which time I will give you what information I can, introduce you to your partner, and you will be free to go. If there is anything you need, such as food, water, or a pillow to rest on, we will supply that shortly upon your request.”
He moves to the door and stops, looking back at the Mage one last time, “Of course, should you leave by any means before the next night, then our agreement will be void. Is there anything else that I can help you with right now?”
Jones
Jones frowned, not liking the idea of having to stay in this cell. But then, he didn't like a lot of what happened tonight anyways, so he ignored it.
"Fine." He said again. "I guess I'll need a shirt. And a pillow. That should be it for the night." He'd like to ask for a shower, to clean all this blood off, and some food, but Jones didn't want to be THAT vulnerable. He'll survive until tomorrow.
Daniel Anklar
"Alright. I'll have those sent in for you shortly. I'll see you tomorow. Good...night." Dan's smile is wry. He is certain that the Mage knows about the sleeping habits of the Damned. He is a Flambeau, afterall.
He steps swiftly out of the room, replaced once more by Badger, who moves to the wall light and extinguishes it, casting them once more into darkness with the closing of the door. There is an odd sound of dry, scraping reeds and then the padding of footsteps. A rekindled ball of flame explodes into life within his palm, revealing a smug grin. In his other hand, Badger holds the charred brand belonging to the empty torch on the cold wall.
There is a knock on the door, disturbing the vampire's silent taunting, and then the opening cracks wide again and the fire is immediately clenched out in the air-stealing closing of the captor's hand. In the bright light of the doorway stands a boy much younger than any vampire that Jones has ever seen before. He is holding a caseless pillow and a faded cotton shirt, which he sets down on the ground against the wall. He jumps as Badger barks, "Get out!" and he is gone in the blink of a mortal eye. It is obvious by his carefully downcast eyes and meager demeanor that he is afraid of and maybe even in awe of the Tremere.
The vampire snorts derisively and turns without a word to the Mage, leaving him at last in the enfolding darkness of an empty cell room in early morning detachment.
Jones
Jones sighed. Wondering what the hell he was getting himself into, he put on the shirt, and sat down with the pillow. There were questions, but at least there was also hope.
He waited until he guessed the sun had risen, and then went to sleep.
Muse
Jones' heartbeat is throbbing in his ears and it is all he can hear. He can tell that he has lost time and he immediately thinks of his bloodied head. Upon focusing on this older injury, though, he realizes that the epicenter of his pain is lower than his scalp, instead pulsing at the nape of his neck. He reaches back to finger this new sore spot and winces, but not before realizing that his hands are no longer bound. He can hear his own scuffing above the pounding in his head and he can feel that his face is flushed hot, but he cannot see still. Wherever he is, the air is dry and stale…like the air in the caverns that he left behind not too long ago.
Or was it long ago? He can’t be certain, now.
Jones
After a brief examination of his condition, Jones said the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, shit."
He was getting awfully tired of being hit in the back of the head, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about that.
Now, where was he? Tremere Central, probably. Some kind of jail cell, if he would hazard a guess. Awaiting a meeting with the Vampire of Oz.
He stumbled forward and tried to feel around the walls (if any) of his location, to get an idea of where he was.
Badger Coleman
His fingers seek out the cold, crumbling walls of the underground halls that nearly claimed his life and that somehow stole Three from him. The cool air scathes down his thirsty throat as he shuffles about in the oppressive darkness. Finally, as he manages a fairly straight line, his fingers jam against an unexpected surface. Smooth plaster. Feeling about like the estranged brother of Helen Keller, he can tell that he is in some sort of apparently barren room, alone and unattended.
That does not last long, though. The yellow slit of a cat's eye cracks through a wall as the seal is broken and light is allowed in. He did not feel a handle before in his search, but his fingernails had caught at the fine lines where the cracks in the wall betrayed the presence of the door. More importantly, he can see again.
He recognizes the pitiless voice before his eyes can adjust well enough to see more than the stolid inky silhouette of a person standing in the now open doorway. “Get up, Mage.” Badger waits for Jones to stand fully and then holds out his hand and a plume of flame erupts within his palm, hissing angrily and the very epitome of its Master’s personality. He steps into the room two steps and moves to a wall lamp that is stationed just high enough that the Flambeau missed it in his searching. He lifts the glass encasing with his free hand, lights a ready torch within, and then replaces the glass. The hungry light of the fire sends shifty illumination scrambling across the shadows.
The Tremere moves back to the door, the blaze still licking at his hand, and he stares hard at Jones. He has made his point. The Mage is on their territory now.
Jones
Jones winced at the sudden influx of light into the dank room. He raised a hand to shield his aching eyes from the light. At least he could see again.
'If they were just going to knock me out and lock me in a room, why the hell did they tie me up and blind me to begin with?' Pondered the Mage.
Jones arched an eyebrow at Badger when his eyes had ajusted.
"So, you're here to take me to the boss, huh?" Asked Jones questioningly.
Daniel Anklar
"My business is none of yours." Badger replies curtly and snaps his hand into a fist, snuffing the fire. He moves over into the corner nearest the lamp and folds his arms across his chest, staring obtrusively at the Mage. The silence between the two stretches like taffy before another shadow darkens the light of the still open doorway. It pauses and then steps in and shuts the door behind him.
Jones hears this new man take a breath as he prepares to speak and the Mage becomes keenly aware of what had been strange about the silence between himself and Badger. Only one of them and been breathing.
"Please, tell me your name, Tradition, and House so that I know how to refer to you." The voice is calm and respectful and might be almost welcoming, if it were not for the circumstances that the Flambeau has found himself in. "You are in the home of House Tremere, as I am certain you have surmised, and you are our guest. Nothing unpleasant will befall you so long as you remain peaceful." He glances at Badger as he says this last part, as if suspecting the man's earlier threats.
Jones
Jones arched an eyebrow. This was a really weird turn of events. Held as a sort-of guest by the Tremere. He really expected to have his blood spilled across the ground by now, and yet they continued to surprise him. The mage leaned against the wall.
"Duely noted." He said to Badger, and then glanced at the shadow.
"My name is Jones bani Hermes, Initiate Exemptus of House Flamebeau. I will also inform you that I'll be completely peacful so long as my blood, organs and sanity remain as they currently are, so I'm happy we're on the same level. I'd like to know why I've ended up as your guest, rather then as your dinner." Asked Jones plainly.
Daniel Anklar
Jones finds that his grasp on the Tapestry is tunnel-visioning and fading, making him feel less Awakened than he has been in years. Maybe it has something to do with his location, or maybe it is just a coincidence, but he is left with only his normal senses to detect things, which does not help where blood magic is concerned.
Daniel smiles and exhales through his nose in a silent laugh, amused by Jones' concept of vampires. He combs his hand through the air, dismissing the brooding Badger who exits immediately, no questions asked.
"Understood, though the status of your sanity depends entirely upon what your quest is," he smiles, having made a small joke of his own, and continues, "And Mages are too sour. Especially Hermetics. They require a good deal of sugar." The jest is not meant to be threatening, but the topic is unsettling. Jones would have been wiser not to bring it up.
"My name is Daniel Anklar and I am the man that can help you and send you on your way. So, Jones of House Flambeau, answer a couple of questions for me and perhaps I can then do the same for you." He is a mild mannered man, pleasant and friendly and hardly what most would imagine when thinking of the Tremere. Even other vampires.
"Why were you in the Ruins? Did you intend to enter the tunnels and if so, for what purpose?"
Jones
Ahriman was not paticularly happy about Daniel going on about how Magi tasted, but so far that was all the threat he was picking up from this man. But then, vampires were all about deception. He'd have to keep an eye open.
Jones extended his hand, and flicked his wrist, summoning a poliroid photo into his middle and forefinger. It was a picture of two youths. One obviously Jones with his blue hair and irritated expression, probably at something Three had said. The other was Neil, with the same frame as his friend, dull brown hair, blue eyes and dressed in cloths that were splattered with paint, old and new. Neil was smiling, and staring excitedly right into the camera, a moment caught in time.
The mage grimely offered the photo to Dan.
"Him. I was looking for him. Or rather, what remains of him. His name is Neil Rogers, a Flambeau like me. Back when our respective houses were at war, Neil and a few other Magi went into those tunnels, thinking that there might be a Tremere Chantry in there. They... didn't come out." Jones stifled a burst of sorrow and shame that welted up in his chest. Now was not the time.
Daniel Anklar
Dan studies the picture thoughtfully, oblivious to the warring emotions behind Jones' words. "Hmm.." He looks up, still thinking, and then says, "Excuse me." He steps out of the room, replaced right away by Badger, and Jones and the vampire stare each other down for at least ten minutes before Dan returns. He dismisses the other Tremere immediately and begins to talk as he hands the picture back to the Mage.
"I do recognize this man. And I can do you one better than just telling you where I last saw him." He is serious now. Maybe he did pick up on how the Flambeau is feeling after all, or perhaps this is just his business demeanor.
"I can tell you the name of the man who can without a doubt tell you not only where this Neil Rogers has been, but also where he is now." He watches this register in his guest's eyes and then continues, "Unfortunately, we have lost contact with both men. The name of the man you need to find is Stefan Darwin. I believe him to still be in town, but I honestly do not know where."
He paces as he talks now, thinking just a step ahead of his own speech. "Being that we also would like to know where Stefan is, I will set you on the most likely paths to finding him and I will send someone with you to help you. The places you may end up going may not be friendly to mortals. Once Stefan is found, our middle-man will return to us with the information we need and you will be free to act in whatever way you feel necessary."
He turns to look directly at Jones now, "Does this sound fair to you?" He continues on without waiting for the man's answer. "Of course, there is one other thing that I must ask of you. It will be important for you to do your searching at night and your resting during the day, just as our associate must. I think you will find your search much more revealing when conducted during evening hours anyway. You are free to go where you must, including your Chantry, and he will not follow where it is not appropriate. But should you atempt to lose him and he reports this to us, we will believe that you are being deceitful and this will fall heavily upon your head at a later time."
Jones
Jones and the vampired stared at each other as they waited for Dan to come back.
"Sooo... Did you see South Park last night?"
Silence.
"How about them Kings, huh?"
Silence.
"Not a hockey fan?"
More Silence.
"Tch, what is it with me and uncomfortable silences tonight?"
Thankfully, Dan didn't take long, and he brought back something surprising. Dan brought Jones hope that his best friend might not be dead. It took a lot for Jones to not leap across the room, grab Dan by the collar and start demanding information. But this situation was very weird. The mage was still quite certain he should be dead.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah." Said Jones, holding his hands up. "Not that I don't appricate it, but why exactly are you offering this deal? Whatever happened to the Paranoia? Why are you guys trusting an outsider like myself to help you find this guy? Wasn't there a war that happened not to long ago? Why are you willing to trust me with this?"
Daniel Anklar
Daniel is an intellectual man. He was always the unappreciated kid in high school class that others paid to do their Algebra homework. His Sire had chosen him specifically for the unique way that he thinks, having monitored how quickly Dan seized a claim in the stagnant scientific world. He had been snatched away just a moment before his name became known, but that suited him fine. He has never been the kind of person to be remembered anyway.
Still, having sat quietly for so long in the back seat, his grasp on others is enviable. He knows how to please, how to sedate, and how to break through barriers. He calmly worked within the new strictures that were predestined amongst this new set of peers, nothing really changing, until he attained the status that he was content with. He did not shove, he did not backstab, and he only schemed when pressed into moral constraints.
He does not feel like a man that has power, but it is dangerous to underestimate leaders amongst Kindred, especially within the Tremere.
There is nothing else within his eyes besides benign politics and a good nature. He expected Jones’ questions and he is prepared for them. He is not forcing the Mage into a pact and without the necessity for the Flambeau’s help, Dan is really unconcerned with whether he will be turned down or not. It is easiest to offer aid when one has nothing to lose.
“Well, last I checked, the war was no longer at our back door. And it was never wanted, anyway. The way I see it, neither of us will suffer from this. If you find Darwin, it kills two birds with one stone. You get your answers and we get ours.” He shrugs and continues, “And in so doing, we have completed a peaceable pact, which is the first step towards a possible if not probable future between our Houses. Somebody has to take the first step, after all. And besides, we cannot simply release you, because then there is nothing keeping you from bringing holy fire to our door and there is nothing preventing us from using you as an excuse to seek revenge. And we don’t need you here – we aren’t recruiting right now.” His smile is wry, but the joke is not malicious.
“So you see, this appears to be a reasonable solution all around. No harm done to either party, no losses, just solutions.”
Jones
Even with all of his distrust, and his general hate of all things that preyed on his species, Jones could find no fault with the man's logic. The back of his mind kicking and screaming for him to accept the damn deal and go out to find Neil didn't hinder things, either.
Jones leaned back and folded his arms. "... Fine. I'll help you look for this Darwin guy. You have a deal." He breathed.
He could be censored for this. Even branded. Not that He had to tell the Order, or paticularly cared what they thought. Those bastards had failed him too many times, and he'd take a brand for Neil anyday.
Clearing those thoughts out of his head, Jones started asking questions.
"Where did you last see Neil? What happened? Where did you last know where Darwin was? Did you try scrying for the guy? Got a photo of him, or something personal of his with a reasonate attachment?" He asked pointedly.
Daniel Anklar
Dan waits until the barrage of questions slack off, listening patiently and inwardly pleased that the Mage understood everything that he said. “I last saw your friend here, within our walls, but it was a long time ago. Darwin will have to tell you the rest of his history. Ironically, Stefan also was last seen here. And I have nothing of his to be of aid to you; he cleared out his quarters completely before leaving unexpectedly.”
He shrugs apologetically and moves on, “Now I will need some time to compile directions for you and a few useful facts about the man you are seeking. I am sure you already understand that I will require you to spend the approaching day here in this cell. Pass the time sleeping, preparing, or however you wish. We will speak again in approximately fifteen hours at which time I will give you what information I can, introduce you to your partner, and you will be free to go. If there is anything you need, such as food, water, or a pillow to rest on, we will supply that shortly upon your request.”
He moves to the door and stops, looking back at the Mage one last time, “Of course, should you leave by any means before the next night, then our agreement will be void. Is there anything else that I can help you with right now?”
Jones
Jones frowned, not liking the idea of having to stay in this cell. But then, he didn't like a lot of what happened tonight anyways, so he ignored it.
"Fine." He said again. "I guess I'll need a shirt. And a pillow. That should be it for the night." He'd like to ask for a shower, to clean all this blood off, and some food, but Jones didn't want to be THAT vulnerable. He'll survive until tomorrow.
Daniel Anklar
"Alright. I'll have those sent in for you shortly. I'll see you tomorow. Good...night." Dan's smile is wry. He is certain that the Mage knows about the sleeping habits of the Damned. He is a Flambeau, afterall.
He steps swiftly out of the room, replaced once more by Badger, who moves to the wall light and extinguishes it, casting them once more into darkness with the closing of the door. There is an odd sound of dry, scraping reeds and then the padding of footsteps. A rekindled ball of flame explodes into life within his palm, revealing a smug grin. In his other hand, Badger holds the charred brand belonging to the empty torch on the cold wall.
There is a knock on the door, disturbing the vampire's silent taunting, and then the opening cracks wide again and the fire is immediately clenched out in the air-stealing closing of the captor's hand. In the bright light of the doorway stands a boy much younger than any vampire that Jones has ever seen before. He is holding a caseless pillow and a faded cotton shirt, which he sets down on the ground against the wall. He jumps as Badger barks, "Get out!" and he is gone in the blink of a mortal eye. It is obvious by his carefully downcast eyes and meager demeanor that he is afraid of and maybe even in awe of the Tremere.
The vampire snorts derisively and turns without a word to the Mage, leaving him at last in the enfolding darkness of an empty cell room in early morning detachment.
Jones
Jones sighed. Wondering what the hell he was getting himself into, he put on the shirt, and sat down with the pillow. There were questions, but at least there was also hope.
He waited until he guessed the sun had risen, and then went to sleep.