Private Tales Jeux d'Espionnage

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Mephistopheles was a patient man, but even he could feel a nagging pull to get moving. That the Baron had replied so quickly and scheduled such a rapid visit meant that things had been set in motion far earlier than anticipated. Trandenshire was a pawn, obviously, but in what game Mephistopheles didn't know. He could only infer... but he was usually good at that.

Saoirse was not hard to spot on approach, her hair and body a direct contrast to the dark clothing she wore, of course she had not been trying to remain unseen. Mephistopheles observed her with catlike focus and unblinking black eyes.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he waved a hand as he turned and the large gates were opened. It was not until they were outside the castle grounds that he asked, "Do you fly?"
 
Saoirse followed Mephistopheles in silence. She was not fond of speaking to cut through the silence so she pleased to see that the man could go a short distance in such a state. Perhaps he would not be so bad a companion for the time being. She would take care of him soon enough.

"Do you fly?"

His words caught her off-guard. She was not sure why but she had assumed they would be taking horses. She did fly but she did not do it very often. Her mother had never been a huge fan of it.

"Yes, of course," Saoirse answered smoothly. "Are there vampires who do not?"
 
He shrugged. "Some prefer not to. Some do it poorly." The gifts of shapeshifting were not equally distributed, and even amongst the gifted there were the skilled and unskilled. Mephistopheles frequently preferred his animal shapes to his own, and he had spent a substantial portion of his un-life in the skies. In short: he was very good at flying.

"Keep up." His tone was lighter than it had been in the castle. Even under grim circumstances he did so enjoy cutting through the night sky. A short hop, a swirl of shadow, and a beautiful black velvet-furred bat took to the skies.

It was the quickest way to Trandenshire's estate without risk of being discovered. Horses could be heard and seen from afar. Sprinting on foot would reveal them as vampires immediately. Two small creatures in the air? Practically invisible.
 
Saoirse nodded at his order to keep up before she watched him shift into his bat form. She shared this form with him as did many vampires. She, actually, did not know of any who did not shift into a bat. That would be interesting to see if their original origins brought on different air animals.

Those were thoughts for later when she had time to research and she was not working. Earning her money was more important than the not so serious questions that idled in her mind.

Darkness swirled around the vampire and a sleek black bat emerged from it. She would follow Mephistopheles for now.

Soon. His death would be soon.
 
Bats were faster than most people knew, and the sky was still inky black when the lights of Trandenshire estate crested the horizon. It was a fine manor, wrapped in lush gardens and a single tiny attempt at a vineyard at one end. Mephistopheles thought it made a great effort to appear wealthy, though its actual substance was lacking.

Lord Trandenshire would not notice them, nor would any of his staff. Whether they remained as animals or walked in shadow as their true selves didn't matter, humans were so terribly unaware of their surroundings that Mephistopheles hardly paid them any mind. The Baron and his men, however, would detect them. Or they would have, had Mephistopheles not brought something to mask their scent.

He landed on his boots, shifting back to stand in his starkly elegant attire and produced a waterskin from his belt. He opened it, took a deep drink, and handed it to Saoirse. His eyes watered from the powerful and incredibly unpleasant concoction.

It was something he had learned from a witch's coven off the Sayve River. It was mostly vinegar, mixed with trace amounts of iron filings, two riverbed herbs, and one extremely expensive desert flower. When consumed, it would limit the telltale odors of the undead, lessen the aura of darkness around them, and dull the lingering blood on their breath. It would also cause horrible stomach pains in about four hours. The pair of them would need to soldier through if they were to remain undetected.
 
The flight did not seem to take very long and Saoirse was quite alright with that. She preferred her body over her other forms. She landed gracefully on her feet after shifting mid-landing and studied their surroundings. Her eyes came back to Mephistopheles as he brought a waterskin up to his lips and drank.

Her eyes narrowed before she took from his outstretched hand. She brought it to her lips and took a long drink. She almost gagged on the terrible mixture of liquid but she managed to hold it down. She handed back the waterskin with a look of disgust etched on her face. She was sure that there was a purpose behind drinking the shit drink...she hoped at least.
 
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