Log:The Gentleman's Agreement

2018/03/24 Sasha Hunter Ziand Maddie John Fenris 1

Sasha looks at you for a long moment once you are done then starts to pace back and forth from the forge and back to you. As he walks the few long paces, he begins to talk, almost in a stream of consciousness way. "He /never/ has just one agenda, bel, Hu, Will...If he wants the Morbane stopped, well, DEMON wants to destroy the world and he preys on the world, well, people, so I doubt he /wants/ the world to end, so there is that...But why come to you?...I mean, we've never fought him but he didn't care if we lived or died once he gave us the information to destroy Rapentap...Or pointed us in the right direction...But he /gained/ from that no matter what happened..."

Hunter watches Sasha pace, the motion of which reminds him he needs to stretch a bit more. He still has whiplash after that villain threw him off a skyscraper and he met a sudden stop at the end of his grappling line. And don't even get him started on how sore his shoulder is from that. Daemon was not kind when fixing his dislocated shoulder.

"He said as much, about him wanting the world for his hunting ground. And he isn't exactly coming to me. He's coming to Frankie's office. He and she have a "thing" going on. I was just the messenger."

Sasha stops and looks at you for a moment. "Unless Frankie Ghostfist has sold her soul, I seriously doubt they have a 'thing' giong on, Will...And great, now I have to look into that as well..."

He then starts pacing again. "So, the message he delivered was for Frankie?...But why not deliver it directly?...He can find any living soul...Well, according the Lemegton Papers, the Malleus Malleficarum doesn't mention it among his powers..."

Sasha comes to a halt in front of you, that same look of concern in his eyes. "You are /certain/ you didn't make any agreement with him, Will? And you never signed /anything/ he handed you, yes?"

And there is that waft of clean sweat again from Sasha.

Hunter's brow furrows in thought. "Well, he keeps delivering flowers to her and having me leave messages. Maybe it's one-sided. I'm 100 percent sure she hasn't slept with him, so for the love of god, don't ask Frankie if she's sleeping with him, or she will KILL me. I'm not even kidding about that. She will literally end me," he says in concern for his own safety.

"Wait, if he can find any living soul, does that mean he'd know Frankie was out when he's come by?"

Sasha's demands on his certainty are enough to make Hunter worry and doubt himself. "I'm almost fully certain I haven't signed anything. I...I don't -think- I've made any agreements with him beyond verbal."

Sasha listens and nods as you speak, his lips quirking into a brief grin as you talk about Frankie killing you. Then he goes stock still then asks in a rush, "What verbal agreement? To do what, H, Will?"

Hunter's brow furrows as he tries to remember. "Umm...that I'd deliver flowers to Frankie for him? I think that was all..."

The look of relief on Sasha's face is almost comical when he hears you explain your verbal agreement with the Gentleman. He then takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment then lets it out slowly. "Good, that sounds harmless. I was afraid you'd agreed to do something more, hmm, active for him. Like stop the Morbane for him."

He absently rubs the back of his neck with his left hand as he speaks revealing that he still grooms quite closely.

Hunter chooses that time to avoid looking Sasha in the eyes. My, that forge is awfully interesting to look at suddenly. "Umm....yeah..."

Hunter doesn't sound so certain about that at all.

Sasha blinks for a moment at your tone then says in a calm quiet tone, "Hunt..." He stops for an instant then begins again, "William Trouble Hughes, did you imply to the Gentleman /you/ would deal with this world destroying Morbane?"

Hunter is forced to look back at Sasha, looking guilty as sin. "What would count as...implying?" he asks like a kid trying to squeak by on technicalities.

Sasha closes his eyes for a moment then when he opens them, he says in that same quiet tone, "Oh, something like 'I'll take care of that' or 'I'll deal with it' or 'I'll go take care of that' or 'Don't worry, I've got it covered.'...So...What did you say to the Lord of Guile, the Prince of Lies also known as the Gentleman."

Hunter cringes a little. "I...may have. Technically...I didn't sign anything or say yes, precisely. But...I guess he did come in demanding to know why the Morbane hadn't been stopped, and gave me information to go find others to stop him or her."

"And did you say you would or imply you would to the Gentleman, Will?" Again, it's in that same quiet voice, his glacial blue eyes looking very much like a storm is about to break in them.

Hunter gulps uncomfortably under Sasha's stormy gaze, twiddling his thumbs. "Umm. Well...he knew the old me was an assassin. He was kind of demanding why I hadn't killed this Morbane yet. He gave me some vague clues, told me to gather allies, a herald, the Morbane, and save the world. That...that may have been what I technically agreed to, because...I didn't really know how to say no to that. He implied that the threat could be ended with a 'knife in the dark', but I didn't say yes to that. I think."

Sasha stands very still as you regale him with your explanation. He then says in that same calm tone, "I see. Well, it's good that you didn't agree to that last." He rubs a hand over his face.

He lowers his hand then says, his eyes still stormy, "Well, you have gathered one ally now at least. Let me shower and we can talk it over more while we eat, shall we?" His fingers twitch slightly.

"That last bit was kind of...grouped in with the first. Does that ...does that count?" Hunter confesses, because he's not even sure if he technically agreed to it.

"I don't know, Will, since I wasn't there. I could rummage around in your memories if you want, but I somehow doubt you'll let me," Sasha says through slightly clencned teeth. "Let's assume you aren't bound to murder the Morbane. And if so, we'll see if that point can be negotiated...if necessary."

"If I did agree, and didn't do it...what would happen?" Hunter asks, ignoring the memory part. He doesn't intend to let anyone mess with his mind.

Sasha starts to walk down the room towards the stairs. It's a good 150 feet to them so plenty of time to talk. "I'm not certain. He could probably bedevil you. Interfere freely in your life. Cause mischief of all sorts to you. Maybe even try to claim your soul. Although I doubt the last one since you signed nothing."

Hunter follows along behind Sasha. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad, since he at least can't claim my soul."

"Yeah, but he can make things so, hmm, hellish for you that you might trade your soul for the torment to end. All without physically harming you. That is the purpose of bedeviling someone, Will, to break you." He stops and turns to face you. "And if I can't have you, I'll be damned if the Gentleman can. So, we'll figure out how to deal with this Morbane who has one fo the Fallen worried."

"Just once, I'd like to be the proactive one rather than having to play catch up in these games the Powers play," he gripes as he starts back towards the stairs again.

Hunter isn't really sure which sounds worse. Sasha or the Gentleman. "The Gentleman won't have me. Even if he IS really handsome." He smiles slightly as he tries humor. He finds it ironic that Sasha is complaining about Powers. "I know how you feel. Believe me." It's how he feels with all the magic, and the Furies.

Sasha sighs as he walks, those jeans hugging that rear just right. "I imagine you do, Will...Have I apologized for being an asshat to you lately?...It's a new word the Little Wolves have been using...to the swear jars gain. At this point, they'll pay for a trip to DisneyWorld without my help."

Hunter's eyes are drawn to Sasha's backside as he walks. It takes him a moment to realize he's doing it before he forces his eyes up. "Lately? Is there more stuff I need to know about that you need to apologize for?"

"I'm certain there probably is, yes." He somehow does not sound really apologetic.

"And no, I haven't done anything new to apologize for, Will. I've given you my word not to spy on you in any way or interact with you as anyone other than myself. So, I haven't...much as I might wish to." He glances back at you. "I'm still not over you, Will. I don't know if I ever will be. But that is my problem, not yours." He returns his gaze to looking ahead to the stairs.

Hunter can feel the flushing along his cheeks and the back of his neck. He glances off to the side as Sasha glances back at him. "Yeah," is all he murmurs vaguely at Sasha's problem. It's his problem, too, but for different reasons.

The two of you are silent until you reach the stairs at which point Sasha says, "So, I'm going to shower and think a bit while I do. Would you care to join me afterwards for dinner so we can talk about the Morbane problem?" He looks over at you. "Of course, it'd be best if you waited in the parlor for me. I tend to walk around nude a lot in my chambers." He smirks. "Among other reasons, it prevents the Little Wolves from barging in as often. Although it doesn't dissuade BlueRose. But then, she's a baby dragon not a human kid."

"Right, sure. And which way to the parlor again?" Hunter asks for a refresher. Mention of the baby dragon is another reminder of how much has changed. Of how this isn't his home anymore.

"One door down from the bedroom towards the stairs to the second floor. The room with all the red leather chairs that looks like an English gentleman's club...or the waiting room to a high class brothel I've been told," murmurs Sasha. "Have a drink from the bar if you want."

Hunter nods absently, his thoughts drifting to old memories that bubble up hazily in the back of his mind. "Okay, I'll wait for you there." He heads for the door, trying to clear his mind.

You find the door with no trouble, open it, step into the parlor...then Mad's head pops up over the back of the couch, her expression surprised and irritated in equal measure, followed a moment later by John Fenris' head, whose expression is more surprised and afraid. You note at this point that a shirt and a blouse are draped over the back of the couch.

One could hear a pin drop.

Hunter just stands and stares for a few moments as he takes in the scene. Once his brain starts working, he coughs and says, "Y'all really should find a more private place for this. Especially because Sasha's coming here in a bit," he gets out before quickly doing an about-face to march out.

"Sasha's not forging still?" squeaks John. "You said he'd be busy for hours, babe..." He then oofs as Mad apparently elbows him or maybe squeezes given the look on his face.

"Ya'll just close that door, Hu, Will! And forget you saw this?" While her tone it gruff there is a pleading tone at the end.

"Saw what?" Hunter smirks playfully as he closes the door behind him. Poor John.

As you close the door behind you, Ziand comes jaw walking down the hall from the direction of the 'punishment' classroom. "Hello again, Hunter," murmurs the enruned skull as he moves closer. "Have a good talk with Aleksandr did you? Told him you remember yet?"

From behind you, inside the parlor, you hear Mad and John moving around. Hopefully dressing.

"Remember what?" Hunter plays dumb still. "I had other business to talk to him about," he says, remaining in front of the parlor door.

"As you say, Hunter, as you say," Ziand murmurs in his sepulchral voice. He remarks as he comes to a halt in front of you, "The young lovers still playing, are they? Ah, to be young again and have all the necessary fleshy bits," he says in a wistful tone. "You are using yours still, right, Hunter? They'll fall off it not used. Don't know if you remmber that." His tone is dry as dust.

Hunter rolls his eyes at Ziand's comments. "Guess that explains how you lost yours before you died. And yes, I'm still using mine."

"Well, they did sever those as well during my execution, yes, Hunter. But, I was an old old man by then. And more obsessed by power than the flesh any longer," remarks Ziand in an offhand manner. "So, is it safe to return to my interrupted game? Aleksandr done banging about?"

Hunter cringes at that detail, feeling momentary sympathy pains. He almost cups his pants at the thought of it. "Yes, you can go back to gaming," he mutters, wondering how strange it is to have the skull of a power-mad mage that's obsessed with video games. What an awful end. He wonders, briefly, if some sort of fate like that awaits Sasha or Amelia.

"Good. The boy needs to get out more. And not just to try to flirt the longing for you away. Pointless catting about in my opinion, not that he listens," mutters Ziand as he jaw walks towards Sasha's bedroom door. "Besides, need to check on my alchemy. Mad's almost out of sleep gas. Should probably whip up a new batch of ghost form potion for her. Goes through them quick as well."

"P-pardon??" Hunter asks as Ziand blabs about Sasha trying to use hookups to forget about him. "Why does Mad need all that?" Is she really still trying to be a hero? Shick. He wonders if he's heard about her adventures.

"Hmm?" murmurs Ziand as he stops in front of Sasha's bedroom door. "Which question do you want answered first, Hunter?" His tone sounds neutral.

"In the order I responded?" Hunter says as he realizes Ziand is trying to be as evasive and tricky as he can be. Clever skull.

"Well, the first one was fairly clear, Hunter: Aleksandr is either throwing himself into his work here or out sleeping around in a, in my opinion, foolish attempt to get over his longing, his love for you. It's a doomed attempt but he's young and in pain, so, well, it's a good thing he's immune to disease, isn't it? He's just making himself miserable and ruining sex for himself, the poor stupid boy." Ziand tones is sympathetic but hard at the same time.

"As for Mad? Well, she's just keeping up with being 'the Ghost of Harrisburg'. Dealing with street level crime mostly. Although she could definitely use some more guidance, Hunter. She still thinks Aleksandr doesn't know, but he does. Worries him sick but he learned he can't control a loved one's desire to be a hero. Learned that from his mistakes with you." Ziand clucks his tongue. "So, he turns a blind eye to me providing her with potions while he pretends she's pulling the wool over his eyes. At least she's got John watching her. Though she'd skin him if she found out."

After staring in uncertainty, Hunter utters of Sasha's disease immunity, "Good to know about the disease stuff. I can't imagine sex will ever be ruined for him." That just can't happen, he thinks.

"Guidance? Shouldn't Sasha be doing that?" he sighs, then rubs the back of his head and realizes where the problem might be with that. "I know of some street-level metas through work and Frankie. Maybe one of them can check on her and make sure she's safe from time to time."

"Any more questions, Hunter?" murmurs Ziand. "And it's good to know your brain works still. You would be the best, hmm, mentor for her, Hunter. She still respects and likes you, our Mad does. At least she got over you. And with such a nice young puppy, I mean boy."

A translucent slightly blue spectral hand appears and grips the knob on Sasha's bedroom door. "Last chance...for now, Hunter, for any questions."

Hunter sighs, guessing he may have to step in himself as Null. "I'm not really in the hero game anymore, Ziand." But killing DEMON mages and Morbanes? He's not quite retired from that. Or whatever Daemon blackmails him into doing. "That's all. For now," he adds."

The skull lets loose a bark of laugther. "I'll never not find that funny, Hunter. If I had a bone back for every time I've heard a hero say they're not one? Well, I have to get a trenchcoat and fedora and call myself Skullduggery Pleasant." And with that, he opens the door and jaw walks inside, shutting it behind himself.

Hunter can't help but laugh a bit at that imagery. "You get out and see a lot of heroes, huh?" he teases the skull just as he shuts the door. Still, the name amuses him. With the door closed, he wonders how long before the make out buddies get dressed.

The door opens a crack after about a minute and then opens wide. Mad comes striding out as if she doesn't have a care in the world. John, on the other hand, exits like he's expecting someone to grab him by the scruff of his neck any moment. Both of them look a bit rumpled, clothes still slightly askew, tops and bottoms, and John has a wide smear of liptstick trailing down his neck. No, not lipstick, hickies.

"Psst," Hunter whispers to John. "You got something right...heeeere," he motions at the hickie. "You may want to borrow some coverup from Mad."

John's eyes widen then he blushes as he glances over at Mad. She is regally moving towards the stairs. He whispers back, "She likes to mark me. Sides, they'll fade quick. Heritage and all." He then hurries after Mad and takes her hand in his. She bumps her head against his shoulder in return.

Hunter smiles slightly as he watches them leave, thinking it cute how Mad bumps her head against his shoulder. She must really like him. There's something...innocent despite their fooling around. It's something he envies without really realizing it.

With the parlor free, the turns around and heads in. The first stop on his agenda is the bar.

On the way to the bar and its liquid refreshments, you spot something half under the couch on the side the kids were.

Hunter's eyes shift to the item under the couch. Damn, did they forget their underwear or something? He walks over to check it out and hide any potential evidence.

If you go over and examine it, the object indeed appears to be half torn set of tighty whities. About John's size.

Hunter grimaces and looks around for a trash can. He doesn't want to touch it. So instead, he nudges it completely under the couch with his foot. Maybe the Domovoi will find it and clean it up later.

Your task done the bar beckons you onwards. It appears to be very well stocked.

Hunter lets out a sigh. Maybe a knife in the dark would be a simple solution to the Morbane problem. He walks over and looks for the whiskey to start.

There is a fine 20 year Glenfiddich sitting right there on the shelf. That was one of the top shelf brands at the Grey Cat. $10.00 a glass. Smooth, rich, with a hint of peat.

One of the last of the original family owned Scots distilleries.

Hunter heads for the top shelf stuff, because why not? He pours himself a glass of Glenfiddich, neat, and takes a small sip.

It is like a small golden peaty explosion on your palate. The single malt is smooth as silk and powerful as sin. And it seems that there is a large selection of only top shelf liquors on the shelves of this bar.

Hunter appreciates the taste. It's much smoother and better than the cheaper stuff he used to use to kill the pain when he was younger. He swirls the glass thoughtfully, looking into the amber liquid as he walks to one of the comfortable chairs and sits down to wait.

In all, it's about 15 minutes total until Sasha comes into the parlor wearing a dark silk dressing gown that stretches to the floor, showing off his bare feet. His hair is still damp and brushed back from his face. "So, I see you found the bar," he murmurs as he takes the chair across from yours.

"Hard to miss. I'm surprised the Little Wolves don't get into it," Hunter comments as he tries not to stare at Sasha in his gown. He tries to keep his eyes on Sasha's.

"The Little Wolves know that this room is off limits unless I bring them in here. Which I only do when I need to make an impression on them, like when I brought Jordan and Xander in here. They respect me enough to not test me on it. Even Leonid and Eddie respect the privacy of this room." He seems very certain of himself as he rises and goes over to the bar to pour himself a drink.

As he looks over the bottle and selects one, he adds off handedly, "Which is why I let Mad and John think they're pulling over on me when they fool around up here. Keeps them from being found out by the others."

Hunter would bet good money that Jordan and Xander have snuck in a few times. Xander at the very least. "Maybe Mad needs her own room instead," he suggests, taking a sip of his drink.

Sasha smiles slightly as he quips, "It hones her skills in thinking out of the box. And John's as well. Besdies, gives me the chance to catch them and keep the upper hand on Mad." He adds after a beat. "Besides when she turns 18, I will give her a room of her own. Up here on the third floor."

"I bet she's chomping at the bit for that day," Hunter muses.

"Yes, she is. Especially since she doesn't know about it." He finishes making his drink and comes over with a green drink in a high ball glass. "I'm faking all this from books and movies and talking to real parents and guardians, Will. How I was raised was completely different. I'm trying as much as I can to give the Little Wolves a normal life." He shrugs as he sits back down.

"Yeah, normal," Hunter gestures vaguely to all around them. "Enchanted school, baby dragon, werewolves, assassins," he gives up listing after a while. "But they're doing better here than they would on the streets or in their old lives, I bet."

Sasha chuckles. "As normal a life as I can, yes, Will." Then his expression sobers. "And yes, they are. I saw too many kids on the streets while I was on the run, Will. And I couldn't stop to help them long enough. I decided to stop running once I reached Colonial Bay. And then Jordan led the Little Wolves to me. Or so I believe. He's said it was just luck."

"Luck. Suuure," Hunter smiles vaguely. "Anyway, I think the Morbane is a bit more pressing."