The Art of Searching [Finished]

[Bee]

Ezra was more or less content to watch the exchange cautiously rather than actually participate.

"I think I could conjure a reason or two," said the old man--with exceptional cheer, considering he was speaking to the individuals who had been about to raid his estate. "Cycil is not a creature with which you would want to associate." He gestured to the lyre. "This is not so much an inanimate object given sentience as a person trapped in an object. Cycil is atoning for rather hideous crimes. Aren't you, Cycil?"

The lyre responded by striking a resentful note. Ezra wondered what, exactly, that had to do with not touching the instrument. Jasper thoughtfully answered the question.

"If you were to grab my charming friend here, it is highly likely that he would have been able to swap places with you. And while there are worse things than life as a lyre, they are probably few. So you should consider yourselves fortunate that I arrived when I did. Not," he continued, "that I don't fully intend to have the both of you make ammends for what you have attempted to do."

[Kiki]

Bee and Dark receive 1 token each, to be redeemed in Ashwin's Shoppe. This will automatically be added to your recorded totals in the shoppe. Congratulations, and keep up the good RP!

[Dark]

Hadyn shuddered away from the thing, not at all willing to take even the remote chance that the old man was bluffing; his eyes were honest hazel, and Hadyn wasn't picking up any vibes that might otherwise cause him to distrust the stranger. All the same, he didn't appreciate the old man's tone.

"And what would you have us do? I don't think you're in any position to stop us, what with two of us and only one of you." It was a bluff, of course. Honest the man might be, but something about the way he held himself made Hadyn's spine tingle in apprehension. The old man had power.

His answer was a crinkled smile, honest delight at Hadyn's audacity nakedly visible. "I like you, kid. All the same, I don't take lightly the invasion of my privacy. There is a code among thieves, as it would happen."

Hadyn gapped.

[Bee]

It was clear that the old man was going to mete out some kind of punishment, despite his apparent fondness for Freakshow's delinquint tendencies. It was merely a question of what. Ezra could only hope it wouldn't involve death.

"I think I have a few suitable assignments that you both can do to make this up to me," he said jovially. "As you may have seen, I have a very big home with very few people in it. I get terribly bored. My dear young man, I believe that your task shall be to keep me company and keep me entertained." He looked at Ezra. "Ah, a Torquehelm. Your kind are not a very lively and exciteable bunch, are you? No. I suspect I'll need to find something quite different for you to do. Do you cook?"

"Noodles."

"Pity. I don't eat carbohydrates."

Hesitantly, he said, "I play music."

"Excellent! You may do that, and also clean house. I could always use a helping hand." He smiled at them. "I do believe we've all had enough excitement for one day. I expect both of you to show up here promptly at eight tomorrow morning to begin your duties. If you fail to arrive, rest assured that I shall find you, and you won't like it if I have to find you." He gave a short bow. "A lovely day to the both of you."

[Dark]

With the heavy iron fence at his back Hadyn finally let the rigid line of his spin relax a little, thoughts spinning. He didn't like the thought of owing the old man anything--a lonely old wretch, locked away in a dusty mausoleum; he wasn't worth the time of day--but at the same time Hadyn had the unpleasant feeling that old man could, in fact, follow through on his threat if the pair tried to slip his grasp. And not only could, but would.

He shrugged his guard hairs down with a physical effort, walking briskly away from the house that had somehow become his prison. The entire situation was so fucked up.

He glanced at Esmeralda irritably, "I don't suppose you have any bright ideas?"

Not that they were getting out of this--Hadyn knew that with a certainty--but he chafed under the idea of being owned. For the first time in a long while, he felt like blowing something up.

[Bee]

Ezra shrugged. He didn't see any way of getting out of it, and he really had no desire to. They had broken into his house with the intent to rob him blind; getting caught was the risk they had taken, and they had gotten caught. Now they would pay for it. It seemed like a logical progression.

Besides, how difficult would it be to keep an old codger entertained and do his housework? It really wasn't that big of a deal, considering that the old man could have called the cops on them. The fuzz didn't take well to grand larceny.

"The only thing to do is show up and do the work, I think," he said. "Unless you wanted to murder the old man and dump his body in a ditch, which I don't feel is a very wise thing to do. We'll just do our duty and be done with it. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, yes? Sleep well, Freakshow."

[Dark]

Hadyn had been uneasy at first, and he still didn't entirely trust the old man's reasons, but he fell into the routine easily enough. "Entertainment" seemed to mostly involve assigning Hadyn near-impossible tasks, many of which seemed ridiculously trivial. The old man seemed inordinately pleased, though, when Hadyn solved his puzzles and mind games. And when he was feeling in a particularly jovial mood, he'd ask Hadyn to spare with him. Hadyn hadn't won yet.

The old man spoke openly about himself and the life he'd lived--he'd been one of many brats belonging to a Keeper, and that's where he'd learned to be a pickpocket, than cat-burgler. He'd apparently had a falling out with his Keeper, and left to make his own way in the world--a task which he quite obviously succeeded at. Hadyn wouldn't have cared if he hadn't been benefiting from all the talk.

And, sometimes, the old man--Hadyn had never bother to learn his name, and wasn't planning to--would show Hadyn the basics of shadow-stepping. He hadn't managed that yet, either, but he would. It was only a matter of time.

[Bee]

While Hadyn was busy learning to be seventeen different kinds of ninja, Ezra honed his abilities at fluff and fold. The laundry, if he did say so himself, had never been so perfectly put away, nor so carefully pressed. There was something almost charmingly mindless about domestic work. He just sort of zoned out and wandered about the mansion, dusting, wiping, sweeping.

He amused the old man with music at meal-time. He was particularly fond of the one about finding a dead baby in a ditch being a metaphor for one's lost childhood and innocence.

"You really should get your next form," he said, "so you may play more easily."

When not busy with his chores or his playing, he watched the training. Not out of any real interest in the art nor any desire to support Freakshow (Ezra was fond of the kid, inasmuch as he felt fondness for people, but the boy had enough ego to support a concert-hall full of people, and one more boost to his self-esteem might make his head explode), but because there was little else to do.

So the days dragged on.