Private Tales Fireworks and a White Rabbit

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Jonathan grinned when Varys leaned into him. Slightly damp hair? The scent of rose water and the slight hint of Felissa’s perfume? He laughed. “Well then, I’m glad Felissa was able to satisfy any...lingering doubts.” He rubbed at his ear with a grin. So Varys had slept with her. Was it his first time? Somehow given the elf’s newfound confidence...he assumed he guessed correctly. Well there were worse ways to break a man in. After all, would he want to go to the girl he helped save back on the road an inexperienced fool? At least now he knew what to expect.

Jonathan gave Vanessa one fond last kiss, and returned to the counter. “Here. Pull out double for Felissa and for Vanessa. Could you get Vanessa some of those candy sticks from the Sugarcane that she likes? Some of the wontons from down the road as well, and some new clothes. Whatever she wants just pull it out of my account.” He pulled out a distinctive wad of wool, and Elia peeked inside at an iron coin. She swiftly wrapped it back up.

“You’re too kind to us sometimes, Jon.” Elia smiled at him. “I’ll be sure to do that. I’m guessing Iron Mountain knows the restrictions?”

“Of course, I’m not letting that harpy of a matron you have run wild in my bank account.” Jon chuckled. He looked back at Varys, and nodded toward the door. “A month, Vanessa. If not, send a message the usual way.”

“Through Hob? I’d rather wait the month.” Vanessa sighed and rested her chin in her palm, watching them go.

Jonathan waited for Varys to step outside, and slowly steered him back toward the main road. “So you saw the Prism?” He asked. “Good. Let’s see what Deingras has to say. Then we’re grabbing some food and hitting the road. Hob is going to tease you mercilessly.”

Varys
 
Varys wasn't totally concerned about what Hob had to say. To be totally honest, he didn't give the fact that he'd gone much further than he'd wanted much weight. He offers a nod of parting to Elia, and follows Jonathan out of the building ,more than happy to feel some fresh air on his face. It felt like it had been forever. He raises a hand and slugs Jon quite firmly in the shoulder blade.

"Mind mages aren't that terribly hard to come by. You could have probably found one at the university." He smirks, feeling a bit more understanding of Jon's plight. "If you wanted to go there so you could spend some time with your woman, you should have just told me, Jon." As they walk, he pats his pockets down, searching for his hair tie. No luck. He must have lost it, but they weren't hard to come by. He could live with it for now.

Shaking his head and sighing as they turn onto the main road, he continues. "Deingras is inconsequential at this point. Get in contact with him, and tell him he can keep the notebook and any knowledge inside as payment. We need to go to The Sand Sea. It's there waiting for me."

He didn't care about the blue leather bound book anymore. He didn't need it, or whatever it held inside.

He remembered everything now.

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan winced and rubbed his shoulder. “Good gods kid. You’re welcome for finding you a mind mage who will take glass as payment. The university would have wanted something more complicated, and you didn’t have any more pooka fur to barter. I sure as hell wasn’t going to offer up my services. They’d want to look at the bond.” He muttered. “...and I did promise Vanessa I’d see her.” His voice was tinged with sadness. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, let’s head out of here.” Jon shrugged. “Keep any glass you didn’t spend. If you decide to come back here you’ll need it. It’s kind of nice to keep around...most people think you’re nuts keeping glass baubles.”

The Transmuter was deep in thought as they walked the early morning streets. He bought them two bowls of noodles with rich chicken broth from a vendor, and thought quietly as he ate. “The Sand Sea is going to be a long trip, kiddo. We’re going to need to attach ourselves to a caravan for safety and water.” He mentioned to Varys as he paid for their breakfast and tipped the cook. “The Sand Sea is called that because all of the dunes look identical. Do you even know where this oasis is? We could be wandering the desert for literal decades trying to find it. It’s dangerous.”

Varys
 
He knew that Jon was right about the university, and his reasoning made an amount of sense. Still, he couldn't help being a little sour about it. The way his voice peters off when he talks about that woman he was with though, that more or less confirmed what he'd suspected earlier. A short burst of guilt shot up his spine, and he lowered his voice.

"I'm sorry. That's an unfortunate situation. I wish I could offer a more experienced understanding of what you're going through, but all I can say is that in an environment like that, she's lucky to have you."

He wasn't sure if he'd ever be returning to Volta, but he agreed it would be wise to keep his currency handy just in case. Chances were that he would be back around eventually if he were sticking with Jonathan. That of course begged the question of what he'd be doing when this Prism business was all over with, but that was a question he was willing to put aside for now.

He finds a sleekly designed bench on the side of the road, placed a good few feet away from all of the traffic. He gestures Jon over, and seats himself. Taking a deep breath, he ponders his questions for a moment. Yes, trying to pinpoint the exact location took a bit of the wind from his sails...

"It was more than an oasis. It was almost an entire jungle placed smack in the middle of a world of sand. Still not exact enough but..." He sighs under his breath in frustration. "I also can't ask you to take such a risk on a gut feeling. I wish I could remember where I...we... My Father..." He stops and shakes his head. Ever since 'unlocking' these memories, he was having some trouble associating them. It was almost as though he was his Father when looking through his memory. "It was hidden there on purpose. He wanted to know exactly where it was when the time came to put it to use. Maybe if we head in that direction, I can remember that too?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’m always on the move, and once you sell your soul in an Electric Dream, you don’t leave unless you pay your debt. They paid a heavy price to learn the kind of magic they do. I leave her what I can. You know, so she doesn’t have to earn it that way.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’m glad I got to see her, and I’m glad you got answers.”

He followed Varys to the bench and settled next to him, leaning against the backrest. “Still, it’s a hell of a gamble to take. We can head that way; there are lots of smaller towns to make money in and the desert sky is always a good place to plant flowers. But all I’m saying is we better be careful, alright? There’s no telling what’s out there. Devourers, jin’ra, thieves, djinn. You’re going to have to learn to fight a little better. Hob can’t save us all the time. Speaking of...what’s say we buy you a weapon while you’re here eh? I can teach you. Wasn’t raised by royalty for nothing.”

He gave Varys a lopsided grin. “Maybe you’ll have more dreams. Only way to know is to keep going and see what lies at the end.”

Varys
 
He coughs lightly, eager to shift discussion away from last night. Eventually, he'd have to deal with Hob, and that would be it's own bag of worms. He was in no rush to talk about some of the things he'd done. Still, he can't deny the fact that Jonathan's plan had worked in the end, and if he said the Sand Sea was dangerous, he wasn't lying. "I've been too fixated on my future. I need to focus on the now, and the now is finding the damned thing and putting an end to it."

"I understand we can't just beeline it into the desert and hope to find water. I would never ask that of you, and I think it best I improve in my own magic before we take such a plunge. As for fighting, I'm not bad with a bow, but I understand if you have more than that in mind."

He couldn't help but feel a bit of his energy wane. Not because of the lack of sleep, but because just when he thought he was nearing his finish line, many more obstacles jumped into his path. He wasn't done yet by a longshot, this was just the halfway mark.

"Come on, let's get out of here. I've had enough of this town, and your overgrown pet rabbit is probably getting restless."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan nodded. “We’ll work on your magic then.” He said with a pat to Varys’ shoulder. “Speaking of the overgrown rabbit let’s pick up something that will ease how pissed off he’s going to be. Might distract him from your newfound loss of innocence too. Pookas tend to haunt children. Trust me, he’s going to pick it up instantly. Why not take his mind off teasing you for the next hundred miles?” He chuckled.

He walked a bit down the street to the loud and tall building proudly proclaimed as the Sugarcane. Jon strolled in; it wasn’t too crowded in the mid morning, as most people bought candy in the evenings after their meals. Gigantic, narrow hurricane jars as tall as Hob were filled with candy sticks. They were at least eight feet long but no wider than a finger, in a hundred different colors and flavors differentiated by the pictures in the glass.

At this time of morning it was an enchanting and colorful world. Huge bins of sugar crystals coated in fruit syrups and left to dry looked like a dragon’s hoard. There were mounds of taffy wrapped in waxed paper, hard fruit drops, and chocolate truffles in a gigantic glass case. In the bottom of the case was a scene from a forest, with marzipan mushrooms, pulled sugar grass, and an enchanted chocolate deer browsing among the leaves as though it were flesh and blood.

Behind the counter, an older woman was throwing lumps of huge purple taffy over a worn glass hook. She pulled mightily, turning the clear sugar into shimmering strands, and threw a loop over the hook to repeat the process. Jonathan elbowed Varys a bit. “Go pick out a few things. I’ll get Hob’s favorites.” He encouraged him.

“How can I help you?” The woman grunted, throwing another loop over the hook.

“Need a half pound of black licorice, three feet of lemon sugar rod cut up into inch lengths, and a bunch of those chocolate bunnies filled with raspberry.” Jon ordered, settling a small string of walnut beads on the counter. The woman dumped her load into a glass bowl that could have served two men as a bathtub, and wiped down her hands.

“Going far? Want me to enchant the box?” She asked. Jon nodded, and she herded a small coven of wiggling chocolate bunnies into a wooden box lined with paper.

Varys
 
He'd been curious about the odd looking sweet shop for some time, but the last time he'd been down this road it had been far too crowded for his taste. Whether it was still crowded, or he just didn't mind the crowd as much when he was with Jon was up for debate. Regardless, it was a good idea to procure a little bribe for Hob. He was... sufficiently embarrassed about his actions last night, though not to a point where he regretted them. He felt different now, after overcoming an internal struggle with his own self-loathing that he hadn't been totally aware he was fighting. When he'd rejected the fairy-tale ending that dream had offered him, he rejected the notion that he was incomplete without the love of another. He rejected that his loneliness, while still present, could get in the way of his objective.

If he was being honest, what happened after the dream was just stress relief. Varys had been bottling his emotions since the day he left Falwood. Something had needed to be done. Now, he could try again. This time, he would not be so shy about voicing his opinion on things. The whole time he'd been worried about what his destiny was, and what he was meant to do... It was silly really. He'd known what he was meant to do all along, and that was to ensure that whatever he was made for didn't come to pass. He was made to insure that nobody would be able to cheat death at the expense of another's body.

Beyond that, he didn't need to think about. Still, these ruminations led him to merely lean on the wall of the shop, his eyes sliding shut as Jonathan gathers the goods for Hob. He had no appetite after breakfast, and he had the odd feeling he wouldn't be wanting to snack. His mind was laser focused now.

When Jon would finish, he'd find Varys in his trance. It was almost as though he were sleeping.

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan got his goods wrapped up, and playfully nudged Varys with his foot. “Alright, alright, you’re too grown up for candy. Just remember when dealing with any fae in the world, sugar is the key. They love the stuff. You could make a buffet out of desserts alone and they’d enjoy it.” He smirked, and led Varys down the road. The boy was focused. He couldn’t really fault him for that now could he? He had finally gotten hints as to where he had come from.

The Transmuter stopped by the Office of Conductivity so that Varys could return the lightning rod on his leg, and then they were striding back across the plains. Hob had moved the wagon a good half mile away from the towers, and even then he was nowhere to be seen. Assorted packages and jars were stacked in the back of the wagon, all bearing the lightning bolt seal of the University. Jonathan cleared his throat.

“Hob?” He asked, frowning. Where was the damn pooka? “I’ve got those chocolate rabbits you like.” He set the boxes on the wagon seat...but...nothing.

Where in hell?

Jon blinked. “Hob!” He shouted. “Damn you, this isn’t funny.” He walked around the wagon, and peered underneath and inside of it. The pooka was nowhere to be seen. Jon gave Varys a concerned look.

“Did you tell the University anything about him?” He asked, worry lacing his voice.

Varys
 
He would be sure to remember the little tidbit about Fae. He'd never come across any, but he'd heard tales of how tricky they could be, Having a leg up on that situation may just save his hide one day, who was to tell? He wasn't worried about fae right now though, it was finally time to get the rod off of his leg and head out of town. He couldn't claim it had been an uninteresting trip, that was certain.

He only wished that the interesting part had ended when they got back to the wagon. Varys knew something was off as soon as he saw the cargo; It certainly wasn't theirs, and he'd seen that symbol back in Volta. Somebody from the University had been here before them, and Hob was nowhere to be found. That didn't inspire good thoughts in the least.

He shakes his head, furrowing his brow at Jonathan.

"No, I gave Deingras the fur, and he seemed satisfied with it. I don't know what could have happened here." He takes a look around the barren land surrounding the road. "I feel like there's not a lot that Hob would run from. He's not exactly defenseless... but."

Varys' expression changed, and he began circling the wagon, looking over every inch of it.

"Salt. Do you see any? What's in the University jars?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan frowned. He’d bought the reagents last night and they were used to dropping them off just outside the barrier for him to pick up on his way out. It wasn’t unusual for people in Volta purchasing heavy goods, as carts with steel brackets were often required to move such things. It was best done by the city’s agents. But now he had doubts. He moved to the back of the wagon and broke one of the seals, unwrapping a jar.

“This is cobalt salt. Pretty normal for me to use, and it doesn’t bother Hob.” Jon lifted up the jar of crumbling blue powder. He opened a few more containing strontium and copper salts. Things that they knew he needed to make his fire flowers, along with a heavy dose of yellowish green sulphur. Something was wrong here. He’d gotten his reagents but where was the damned pooka?

Jon looked through the packages again and came up with a letter. He sat on the edge of the wagon, looking at Varys. He popped the wax seal and ripped out the paper.

“Master Jonathan Burr, we are terminating your standing contract with the University of Volta for multiple ethical and procedural infractions. A student of yours recently submitted material to the University referencing the creation of sentient life by Transmutation. We believe it is your aim to conduct such an experiment and are attempting to gain information on the methodology involved.” His voice shook with rage as he read. “Pursuant to this, the University has seized the rare specimen from your possession. We believe hampering your research can only benefit the progress of true ethical mages. Consider this payment for the outstanding debts on your account for property damage, public intoxication, and failure to pay reagents. However since the specimen is uncooperative and expensive to maintain, this will not cover your debt. In addition, your funds at the Iron Mountain Bank of Volta have been seized to cover the difference. Signed, Mayor Emelia Bram and Headmaster Corallus Locan?! What?!”

Jonathan threw the letter to the ground angrily.

Varys
 
He looked between Jon and the discarded letter, before hurriedly making to pick it up himself. Going over it once himself, he feels his fist clench tighter and tighter around the parchment with every sentence his eyes soaked in. How... dare they? Jonathan's name was nowhere in that book, and yet they blamed him for his father's past sins now. They hadn't even sought to make contact with either of them in regards to this. He crumples the letter in his hand and releases the longest string of swears his brain could form.

"They can't do this! You had nothing to do with it, and it was my choice to give them that journal!"

All but snarling, he tears the letter to shreds. Without Hob, they were stranded out here. The University knew that, and would probably see to it that they received a 'warm' welcome were they to turn back and re-enter Volta. This was a trap, and they were using Varys as the scapegoat. He turns to Jonathan with a fury in his eyes.

"They're using me to get to you. You won't give them what they want, and I'm the fucking leverage. While we were shacked away getting our rocks off like a couple of horned up idiots, they were screwing us over from under our noses. Now we either waltz back into Volta and into their trap, or we risk trying to get somewhere else without the wagon. Both of those options are terrible."

He was more angry with himself than anything else. He'd dragged Jonathan and Hob into his personal dilemma, he'd gotten them to go out of their way to help him. He'd chosen to go back to the bed instead of leaving, and he could have stopped them from doing this. It was his fault.

He rests his face in one hand, stewing in his own rage. There was only one course that offered them a chance.

"I have to go back alone. They want you, not me."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan rubbed his hand over his face. Varys was absolutely correct. They were stranded in inhospitable territory without Hob to pull the wagon. Not only were they being strong armed back into Volta, walking back into that city had its consequences. Emelia Bram was not the type to play games with people...she’d waited until Jon had given her enough of an excuse to drop the entire load on him.

He had to give her credit, it was an excellent plan. He just hadn’t seen the knife coming for his back. He looked up when Varys began blaming himself and shook his head. “Enough of that.” He said sharply. “This wasn’t your fault. This didn’t happen because we stayed overnight at Electric Dreams. This happened because Mayor Bram finally got the bolt she needed to load the damn crossbow she’s been holding. I’m guessing Deingras reported it when he realized what was in the journal.”

Jon rubbed his eyelids with his hand. “You’re not going it alone. Not in that city.” He said. He looked back at the wagon and swore under his breath. He couldn’t leave it. Hob staying with the wagon was the one reason he’d left it behind. But it was also too far for them to drag.

The Transmuter knelt and touched the ground with a hand. Slowly, the soil rose in front of the wagon and gently rolled it backwards. He kept it up, making the soil put pressure on the wheels to keep moving backwards. It rolled over the border, just beyond one of the towers, and he nodded. “Right. Least the casual thief is going to be shit out of luck. Let’s go. The amount of salt in the air can’t be doing Hob any favors.”

Jon reached into the back of the wagon as they passed it, and withdrew two swords. They weren’t the usual steel, and that became clear when Jon pulled one out of the sheath just far enough to show Varys. “Strengthened glass. Looks weak, but I’d be a poor Transmuter if I didn’t say it was strong as any steel.” Jon offered one to Varys and took the other for himself.

Varys
 
Varys was appreciative of Jonathan's reassurance, but it didn't change fact. Even if Jon wouldn't admit it, Varys being here had given Jon's enemies an excuse to strike. The elf wouldn't argue with him about it, but he knew it to be the truth. The more he ruminated on this though, the less it bothered him. This was a setback yes, a large one. However, it was also Varys' chance to repay Jon for his kindness so far. He wasted no time in taking the glass blade, giving it a forward swing to test it's weight. The rage in his eyes slowly dissolved into the same determination Jon had seen this morning.

"I guess it's true what they say about the sins of the father, no? It appears I have some cleaning up after my old man to attend to."

He looks at Jon out of the corner of his eye and smiles.

"If you're going to insist on bugging me about, I *guess* you can tag along with me. Just be careful, kiddo."

Satisfied with his light teasing, he assists him in aiming moving the wagon to a slightly more secure spot the best he can by lifting and pushing it as Jonathan uses some clever and well placed magic. He had no idea where the two of them would even begin once they re-entered Volta. They couldn't very well march on the University or Mayoral Office. They'd undoubtedly be expected. Jon was well connected, so perhaps they had allies who would aid them.

The two of them finally turning to the city, swords in hand... it dawned on Varys how badly this could go for the both of them. Even so, he wasn't letting Jonathan go it alone now. Even if he wouldn't admit it, Varys held partial blame here. He looks over at Jon and offers one more cheeky smirk.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and I can charm our angry Miss Mayor." His smirk remains for a moment, before fading back into his face, his thin lips flattening seriously. "Really though, Jon. Don't be afraid to rely on me in there. I've a feeling this is going to be cathartic, and I can handle myself."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jon laughed in spite of himself at the teasing and put the sword on his belt. “You’re alright, kid.” He grinned and strode toward Volta with him. “As for Mayor Bram trust me, you’re not her type. And we’re not going in there to start a fight unless it’s absolutely necessary. Bram hits back in ways you wouldn’t suspect, weeks after you think you’ve won.”

He stepped into the city with his face grim. “First thing is to get Hob free. I don’t know what they’re doing to him in that University but it won’t be all good. If I know him, he’s probably giving them a run for their money phasing in and out.” Jon chewed his lip. “Second thing is to get that book back. We made a mistake leaving it here.”

He headed for the University, and found a pair of guards at the entrance this time. “Jonathan Burr, you are barred from the premises until further notice. You created quite a stir in there. Sorry, Mayor’s orders.” One of the guards grunted.

Jon sighed and glanced at Varys. “Fine. We’ll request an audience with Mayor Bram to discuss the misunderstanding.” He said grudgingly. The guard nodded, satisfied with the answer, and watched Jon walk back down the street. The second his eyes were off the Transmuter, Jon pulled Varys into an alleyway.

“Alright, so...” he nodded at a thick stone plug in the alley floor. “We can’t go in the front gate. But the University bathrooms lead right to the sea. We can take the sewers up to the bathrooms, get in through the tubs.”

Varys
 
Their attempt to get back into Volta had gone about as well as Varys had expected it to. This lined up with the depiction of the Mayor that Jonathan had painted for him though. If she'd been wary of Jon for quite some time, it only made sense that she would indirectly render him stranded when he wasn't ready for it. Varys did still feel he played a part, but he figured Bram would have found a way to pin him down regardless.

Jonathan pulls him into an alley off to the side, and the expression that he wears on his face is one Varys doesn't recall ever seeing before. It was deeply troubled, full of worry and tinged with panic. Varys understood why: If they somehow managed to break Jonathan's bind with Hob, it would be extremely bad for both of the creatures.

Be that as it may, the expression that Varys meets his Master with is one of doubt. He reaches up, and puts a hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Jon, you're panicking. That's a desperate, reckless plan and you know it. I also know you're worried about the bond. Right now, we can't afford to worry. We both have to have faith that Hob can hold them off."

There was something that they could use to their advantage, one thing that tipped the scales in their favor. The only issue was convincing Jon to use it. Resting his hand on the hilt of the blade, he re-affirms his earlier insistence.

"You're the one barred entry, Bram doesn't even know what I look like, nor has she seemed to alert the guards to me. Neither the letters nor the guards gave passing mention to me by name, which leads me to believe..."

He nods in the direction of the University.

"...That Deingras didn't completely sell us out. He didn't give her any information about me. Jon, I can get inside and save Hob. I know you don't want me to do this alone, but you have to trust me. I can do this. I have to."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jon ran his fingers through his hair, looking down. He knew Varys was right. The letter hadn’t mentioned the elf at all, and nor any connection between himself and Varys. Volta was rather strict in holding the guilty accountable, and didn’t believe in things like being guilty by association. If Varys wasn’t banned, then he wasn’t banned. They would likely be expecting him to at least speak with Deingras again.

“...Alright. Just be care-“ Jon stopped short, eyes wide. He clasped a hand to his mouth, and retched. He couldn’t hold it back. He leaned against a nearby wall and vomited. Something long and black emerged from his throat, sinewy and full of veins, like an umbilical cord drenched in crude oil. Jon reached again and it fell to the stones with a wet splat. Jon stared in horror. The thing writhed, making hideous noises that were frighteningly close to that of a newborn infant. Jon stepped away from it, and pieces of it floated up and away, as though it were rotting and falling apart before their eyes.

In a matter of minutes only the black slime Jon vomited up remained. “Hurry.” He spat, coughing. “He’ll be in the same...wing Deingras is in.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Varys
 
Varys was already gone by the time he finished talking. Seeing the disgusting black creature regurgitated from Jon's gut was all that Varys needed to see. He sprinted down the street towards The University as fast as his legs were able to provide. There was no time to waste, and thankfully enough Varys' suspicions were proven when the guard who'd stopped them before offered only a shrug as Varys sped past him.

It was the lightning bolt that struck the ground right in front of Varys that worried him much more than the guards. Seeing it come so close to hitting him left him with the grim realization that he wasn't wearing the rod meant to prevent static buildup, and the odd lightning strike. Swearing, he takes a short detour.

He all but charged through the doors to The Office of Conductivity. It looked as clean and sleek as ever, but he now saw it from a much different perspective. This town was too perfect, and the brightness it exuded only made it's shadow larger. He hurried to the brown haired Elf he'd met briefly upon arrival in the city.

"Florence! I need a rod now, and it doesn't matter what size, just pass me something. Please!"

Jonathan Burr
 
The elf at the counter looked a bit taken aback by Varys bursting through the doors of the office. She blinked and leaned in, smelling delicately. Ah, the smell of lightning. She smiled and shook her head. “Did you forget one when you returned?” She asked, and reached under the counter. “Here, I didn’t have time to check yours back in yet.”

She came around the desk and fitted it to him, nodding. “There you go.” She smiled wryly at him. “Next time don’t go into open spaces without one. Lightning always strikes the tallest thing.” She patted him, and bowed. “Thank you for visiting the Volta Office of Conductivity.”

Varys
 
He rolls his eyes at her advice, though not disrespectfully. He turns and speeds out of the building, praying that he hadn't built too much charge before being refitted. He didn't have time for a discharge, and simply wearing the rod would have to do for now. The streets were starting to get crowded with early afternoon bustle, and it was an added task to weave in and around the crowds of people that began to clump together in the roads.

Even so, the University stood taller than any person could, and he could always see it in the distance, getting closer and closer. Finally breaking away from most of the traffic, he hurried up the stairs to the extravagant courtyard that he'd come to before. This time, there was no mob of students in the way of the doors. He pushes them open and enters the unsettlingly quiet main hall.

He had no way of knowing where Deingras was, but the most logical place to look was the lab he'd taken Varys to earlier. He'd have to rely on his memory to find it though. Unless he could tap into that odd pressure he always felt around Hob, he would have to fall back on using the markings on the walls. He remembered how to get to the lab from where Jonathan had been experimenting...

The stones leading there from the main hall had been purple, right? He found the hall lined with purple stones and set off, blowing past the man at the visitors desk.

Jonathan Burr
 
The man at the visitor’s desk called out after Varys, but he was fairly sure he remembered the young man. He sat down, confused. Where in the devil was Varys going? He was following the purple light; had he forgotten to speak with Master Deingras about something? The student sighed and plopped back in his chair, flicking open his book.

The lab Jon had experimented in was being cleaned, scrubbed and the holes in the floor set with grout and new stones. The students doing the work didn’t look especially happy about it.

Deingras’ door was locked, with a sign on the front that said to return the next week. It wasn’t as though the orc wasn’t in; loud roars were heard from inside, as well as banging and smashing glass. If Varys looked closely, a pooka hair lay on the ground...strangely still.

Varys
 
He wasn't exactly concerned about pissing off anybody at The University anymore. They'd proven to be fickle and untrustworthy quite well without his ire. Finding the remains of the lab Jon had blundered earlier had been easy enough; The smell of cleaning material wafted through the hallways as though somebody were washing clothes in a barrel of soap.

Stopping only briefly to look over the students, he turns his head and rushes towards Deingras' lab with all the fury of a storm. Evidently they weren't holding classes today, and Varys had to wonder if this wasn't due to a large portion of the staff assisting with Hob's containment.

Sprinting through the empty lecture hall and down through the private hallway leading to Deingras' lab, he doesn't even read the sign on the door. The fact that it was locked didn't concern him. Drawing the glass blade Jon had provided, he swung down at the knob of the door with all of his might.

Jonathan Burr
 
The knob, being glass itself, held fast for a moment. Another strike, and the wood keeping the lock insulated simply snapped, dropping the knob off the door. It cracked upon hitting the stone, and rolled a bit. Unfortunately, it did little to actually unlock the door.

“What the devil is going on out there?!” Deingras boomed from the other side of the door. He opened it from his end and scowled at Varys. “Varys? What in the gods’ name are you doing, boy? Put that pigsticker down immediately.” He sounded like an enraged father. Or someone who had dealt with armed young men before.

Behind him a loud, thin cry sounded. Deingras looked behind him with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps you know how to calm it. Come in, boy. Your master’s pooka is acting as though we’ve skinned him alive.” He held out his hand. “Blade first.”

Varys
 
Varys swore venemously as the lock to the door held. Now how the hell was he going to get in, save for charging the door? He doubted his smaller frame could manage a feat, but he was prepared to attempt just that when Deingras opens the door, looking decidedly un-hostile for somebody in his position.

"Why should I hand over my blade? You sold us out, and got Jonathan barred from the city! I came back for Hob, and the. I'm leaving!"

Still, for some reason Deingras' concern didn't seem disingenuous. He raises an eyebrow, and with a scowl, he shoves the blade's hilt into the Orc's hands and pushes past him. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Deingras took the blade and set it down on his desk. He hadn’t any idea the boy was connected well enough to purchase a Voltese blade. A nice one at that. The glass didn’t sound tinny, the way it would threatening to shatter upon first blow. Deingras folded his arms across his chest at the question, and gestured to a large cage at one end of the lab. The bars were iron, which would burn fae, and the inside of it was ringed with salt.

“I was taking samples to compare with the one you left earlier.” Deingras said defensively. “The University left it in my care. It almost escaped twice until I figured out how to contain it.”

Laying on the floor of the cage wasn’t a huge, hulking monster. Instead the figure looked more like a girl, her back to them. Soft downy white fur, so thin as to be invisible from certain angles, covered her body. A pair of long lopped ears, the only similarity to Hob, trailed down her back.

“The last sample I grabbed was blood, and it screamed and lay down. I know I haven’t killed it. I believe it’s just trying to get me to open the door.” Deingras said, shaking his head.

The pooka rolled over, groaning and tucking slender little arms against her chest. A pair of large yellow eyes fluttered and closed again. Black was smeared around her bow-shaped lips, as though she’d been ill. Her breathing was shallow, and rapid.

“Come, perhaps you can provide some insight.” Deingras set a jar of oily black slime on the table. “I am not sure if it was attempting to attack or something else.”

Varys
 
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