Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Thank you!.."

Almost without him realizing he'd said it, he watched Roan leave the room with a distant, barely noticeable look of... Well something in the depth of his eye. It was almost as though he was reaching out to her, looking for approval. Forgiveness perhaps or even... Some sense of caring. Maybe, he was hoping she'd regard him with some form of care.

Could he have been looking for something from her that he couldn't get from... No, that'd surely be too pitiful and lame of the hardened Irish punk.

Ripping a mouthful of meat from his second victim after draining, he'd chew maliciously on the flesh before finally swallowing as he stood, a little shaky as to be expected on a still pulped knee cap.

"It's alright. I' never easy ta get on with. Most ne'er bother yeah?.."

Limping till he was either in line, tow or given aid by Jan to carry on, he'd move as directed to his room.

"Dreamt?.. I wouldn't call it a dream bu' there was something. Big ******** off snakes, and I reckon they were Lions. Blood... Lots 'n' lots o' blood. I barely remember any of it, I think I rather keep i'that way."

.: So, want to take bets on which kid you will drive to suicide first? :.
.: ....A reason for your aggravation? :.
.: Only that you have no clue what you're doing, and this wastes both of our time. You should be in the training room, with me :.
.: Také, you remember I suppose the statistics from the last session? :.
.: I do. Hence why you should be in there, not poncing about out here pandering to some of the most screwed up kids we've ever met. :.
.: I am limited by physical form. We always suspected there would be an issue there. :.
.: So are Syn. :.
.: No, they aren't. And killing any of them without also dealing with the rest in short order could have... consequences. I know you wish merely to aid, and this is the best way you know how to do such... but it is no good ignoring the facts. I cannot win alone. :.
.: ...what have you done with the real Roan? :.
.: Merely let her open her eyes and see beyond the anger. In that at least... Nines has been useful. :.
.: Ugh... don't you start turning humane on me. :.
.: Why not? It'd be nostaligic for me, and new for you. :.
.: New? Hardly. You aren't the only one who is still angry about injustices done by another race. :.
.: ...you were part of a seven demi-god rampage obliterating not just resistance, but any organised forms of life you came across. :.
.: Your point? Order was a weapon against us. Humanity's own atom bomb against the occult. :.
.: And yet magic still exists.. :.
.: Humanity hasn't gotten everywhere. And I would be very put out to find more of it inside your head :.
.: Your gruff bluster is endearing as ever Také... and seeing as we're on the topic of skirting around what we both actually mean... talk to me about Kuni. :.
.: Shortening his name now? :.
.: His big brother lives in my head. Stop stalling. :.
.: ...Nine's is definitely the right one, but you know that already. You also know Kuni's past, and my feelings on him. Honestly? I'm amazed Nine's is as well adjusted as he is, considering. :.
.: Did you... just call NINES well adjusted? :.
.: Comparatively. He's from Okra's line. Albeit really far removed, but you know that line is very prone to instability. How many that we've traced have been bonkers, disturbed or otherwise even BEFORE they came into contact with the blade? :.
.: I know what you mean. Nine's had issues with his mother. :.
.: Must have had one hell of a father to counter things, you know? :.
.: Probably another of the bloodlines. :.
.: Only HE could counter Kuni's magic. Hate to admit it, but Kuni outdid even me in the curse department. :.
.: You truly think Okra's line...? :.
.: I'm not human. I'm not logical. :.
.: No... you aren't. Fine. So what's it mean? :.
.: Only that Nines is the single most stable, stubborn, ornery, difficult and perfect b*****d to survive hearing Kuni's voice. I ain't gonna tell ya to make him pick the blade up - I have no more desire to see my brother again than I do being sealed back inside that damned sword of yours, but... :.
.: But, he will at least survive being near it, if only through sheer bloody mindedness... yeah, sounds like Nines. :.

Sighing, Roan leant back against the end of the bed, setting down a slim vial she had just finished filling and corking. An acrid scent lingered in the air, and she used the back of her left hand to wipe her brow. Scar tissue around the wrist, before the glove started, indicated she was still recovering from the dream a few nights before.
She paid it no heed however as she thought about what Také had said.

.: You are thinking about the other two. :.
.: Yes :.
.: I wont tell you. It's not time. :.
.: That sounds like a promise of what could be true eventually BEING true.. :.
.: I think this is foolish. :.
.: I think I need it. :.
.: ...you thought of Corbin with that. Why? :.
.: You aren't human. How do you expect to understand? :.
.: Stop stalling. :.
.: He is the first large step on a return journey. Nines is the road itself. And Dagoth the fuel to carry it out :.
.: ...you're right, I don't understand. :.
.: I said when we came here I felt like something was starting. And I have been dreaming again... :.
.: A dream shared, yes? :.
.: According to Jan, yes. :.
.: Put it simply for me? :.
.: Corbin is a monster, Nines is human, and Dagoth is somewhere between the two. And look how broken they all are. :.
.: And you? :.
.: Hopefully... a binding link. :.
.: ...which is why you will scarify the boy tomorrow? :.
.: No. I do that tomorrow to break old thoughts, open new ones, and bind a very very dangerous young man to task. :.
.: A monster, you said... :.
.: You should know. Who does he remind you of? :.
.: ...HIM. :.
.: Amatsu. Yes. :.
.: Then you dare assume the role of...? :.
.: Izanami. Why not? The word mother is missing for all of us. Or prehaps... the word family. :.
.: ...dont you dare let humanity start creeping into my spot in your head. It's a hobby to study, but I do NOT want to live there :.
.: Go to sleep, Také. I have work to do :.
.: As you wish... :.

Smiling, she rubbed her left temple, shook off the heavy thoughts, and got back to work. Opening a drawer, she pulled out several packs of medical scalpels, high grade, and began to inspectig each one through the packet. She would need several, and each had to be flawless. It would be an insult to use substandard equipment.
Pulling one out of its plastic, she flicked off the safety cap, twisting the blade in the light coming from her window.

"Out of my depth... I suppose I well and truly am. I don't know how to be a mother.... but maybe that isnt the point... What a hypocrit I would be, if I did not try to be both man AND beast at once... How I wish it were so black and white as to what is human, and what is not, as you see it Nines..."

Chuckling, she flicked the stereo on and got back to work. Acrid scents were once more the order of the day.

"Oh I don't know sir, one tends to get out what one puts in to a situation...

Do excuse the intrusion. I knocked, but I don't think you heard me, and I assumed the room vacant once I unlocked the door.
Your fresh towels sir."

Jan. Silent as always, he settled the fresh fluffy towels onto the racks near Dagoth with his usual calm and efficient smile in place. Smoothing the wrinkles, he looked up at Dagoth.

"If I may be so bold sir as to quote from the poet Maya Angelou?
'Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.'
Her Ladyship seems to have a strong belief, or at least mode of living, that suits this well. Prehaps sir has the same? I believe there is a book of Angelou's in the library. Would you care to have it brought up?"

"With the house staff depleted, I have made it my personal duty to ensure such trivialities as are required by yourself, the young master and the young mercenary are dealt with properly.
And no man is complete of a night without fresh towels."

Smiling, Jan inclined his head. Tea and jasmine... indeed, he had enjoyed the orient most over the years, and often smelt of those scents as best befitted that area of the world.

"I believe it is her first biography we possess. The work is entitled 'I know why the caged bird sings'. Interestingly, Ms Angelou had many professions, including prostitute. She knew much of life's ups and downs. I hope you will enjoy her work.

Now, is there anything else sir requires?"

"I'm sure sir would rather avoid whatever potential nicknames you may have acquired 'below stairs', so to speak, but your nautical past has been noted sir."

Still smiling, Jan's gaze was gentle. If he was mocking at all, it was in good nature, and if it was indeed some sort of check up, it was benign at least.

"As for names... names can be so tricky. The young mercenary is known as Nines, though it is certainly not his real name. As yet, the Lady has not chosen to press this matter, or have enquiries made about him.

As for the young master, I can for now only give you a first name. Corbin. Tomorrow evening will see which surname holds blood."

A ghost of a dark look flickered through the old butlers eyes, then was gone with a flash of that winsome smile.

"Nines and Corbin, just so sir."

Jan watched as Dagoth processed the information, a slight stillness in the mans face indicating some kind of deep thought, albeit brief.

"Oh no sir, her Ladyship does not ghoul on a whim either. I remain, as it has always been, the only mortal her Ladyship has shared her vitae with. And though her personality and methods can be... overwhelming?... at times, she is nothing if not considerate of the servants, and certainly has brainwashed none of them. All are paid handsomely for discretion, honour and a still tongue.
The girls in housekeeping have explicit instructions not to disturb the guests unless absolutely necessary, and to be as efficient and polite as possible. It is not the done thing, after all, in the fair country of our birth, to interrupt a man who is alone with his thoughts. Where, indeed, would we be if we allowed the noise, chatter and incessant use of technology at all given moments of the mortal world to creep into a world that changes only slowly?

Time to think, and the assurance that what must be done is being done WITHOUT request... these are the quiet staples of a gentleman, and the very least her Ladyship would wish extended to her guests."

((Sorry I vamoosed last night - net cut out on me))

Smiling, Jan returned the gesture.

"Jan Hendrek, in the service of her Ladyship DeSeer."

Straightening, her settled his tie and took a loose 'at ease' stance, purely based on Dagoth's demeanour towards him - clearly, he did not expect the 5 star Victorian hotel standard, and to a degree, it made him uncomfortable. Nevetheless, Jan was still irrepressibly polite.

"When one lives long, the familiarity of routine is a great stabiliser. Just as the elderly today favour the mahogany and deep tones of the 70's or early in their homes, for comfort and rest, so too does her Ladyship and myself rely upon certain standards of an era sadly passed in order to feel her world is running like clockwork, and under control.

Sir may rest assured that the staff are not beaten, nor dismissed unfairly, but it is certain they also do not dare to smoke on site, and are expected to deliver the highest standards.
The pay is handsome, and many have gone on to serve in esteemed households of the nobility around the continent as a result of spending time here.

The era of the gentleman is, to my mind at least, by far the superior to that or prowling groups of hoodies, skaters and ruffians cluttering up street corners and bemoaning the hardships of a life wherein education is free, as is the chance to succeed if one but tries."

Showing his disgust for modern teenage culture patently, Jan coughed genteely and returned his expression to one more amiable.

"The DeSeer mansion reflects in its very self the age of its owner. I suppose that great feeling of age must resonate somewhere, and within the safe walls of ones own home is the best place for it. For, is not an Englishman's home his castle?"

"I'm afraid sir, her Ladyship stripped out the gymnasium in favour of building the training room. There are, however, functions of such that you may find fit your purpose.

First however, let us acquire for you proper, English sustenance."

Turning smartly on one perfectly polished heel, Jan would lead Dagoth through the building to the kitchens.
As was to be expected of such a large house, the kitchen suite was extensive. A series of smaller pantries and larders stretched off the central and open kitchen proper, though several of these rooms had been changed to modern freezers and fridges, albeit of an over large size.

Old style ranges and an open fire filled one side of the room, though the fire was currently unlit, and the ranges had modern technology powering them. Nevertheless, the pots and pans in use were copper, and shone like mirrors where empty ones hung on the walls. Those on the fire showed blackening lines where the gas curled around them, heating a range of items which lent the room an delicious smell, interlinked with the aroma of the herbs hanging from the wooden rafters overhead.

"Ah, Madame Hastings. Sir Dagoth would like to partake of your current menu, if you please."
"Oh aye, evening Mr Jan. And to you sir. Tis wild grouse in 'erb gravy with warm bread and a side of ground vegetables. Will that do yer? Tis just what the gardeners are having tonight. If you lets me know what you;d like when you wake's up of a day though sir, I'll be sure to have your preference fer yer."