((The adventures of the non-reincarnated, non-Time Lord Thavrin in a crappy college AU. We left our "hero" agreeing to bring in something for Old Sleaze Sanguine in exchange for dirt about Abaddon.))
Thavrin looked at the address again, trying to make very, very sure that he had got the correct address. The distinctly upmarket feel of the street itself was...unexpected. He had imagined some crack den; graffitti on the walls, prostitutes offering to suck your balls, the usual sort of thing. Trust this shithole of a town to not have the decency of having an adequate slum or scummy area. Curse TV in raising his hopes of somewhere interesting!
He knocked the door, looking around. This place was ridiculously upmarket that it was starting to daunt him and piss him off. He felt secretly embarrassed by the high walls, the carved fucking bears, the precision cut edges, the fancy schmancy car in the driveway.
The door flung open and a small, wide-eyed kid looked at him. Thavrin could see that this wasn't going to go how he had expected.
"Who are you?" the kid asked. Thavrin sighed, he wasn't usually fond of children but he supposed he had to try.
"I'm Thavrin and I'm looking for your parents." he said in a sweet enough voice. The kid frowned, shaking his head.
"I've never heard of any Thavrin."
"Listen kid, just get your dad or mom or whoever is looking for you, alright?"
The child pouted, drawing Thavrin a dark look. "Name's Hoag and fine, but my Da will not be happy." Hoag darted off into the plush looking home. It didn't take long for a rumble in the distance and a huge, peculiarly familiar blond muscle bound man strode out, narrowing his eyes at the Bosmer.
"What do you want?" the man said. Thavrin jutted out his chest subconsciously, trying to seem bigger than he was.
"I'm here for washing powder." Thavrin said, emphasising each word. He took the money, tucking a few notes into his hand. It didn't take long for the penny to drop in the blond man's head and it was only when Thavrin was running from the house that he remembered that the man was Ulfric Stormcloak.
Fucking old bastard!
---
Thavrin flung the doors in the nursing home and looked around the living room. He almost got knocked on his ass by a shiny blur, muttering about order and how he needed more bleach. He couldn't see the cheating, lying bastard anywhere but he was sure he could hear Sanguine laughing at him.
Now he had to start again.
He sighed, looking around the room. A glamourous woman and a more warm, cuddly woman was playing scrabble with what Thavrin presumed to be a man, he was wrapped head to toe in black clothes, only the shine of his eyes was visible. He wandered over to them, smiling.
"Would any of you lovely ladies and gents know where I can find Abaddon?" Thavrin said, trying to act as charming as possible. The man in black didn't change his expression and merely put down the word "B L O O D Y" on the word (36 on a triple word score). The two women seemed more interested.
"The name certainly rings a bell, don't it Mephala?" the cosier of the women said, dropping some knitting on the floor. Mephala looked at her red nails, sniffing.
"It certainly does." her syruppy voice replied. "I just wonder what the information is worth to you?"
Thavrin pouted. Not this bullshit again. "Look, if you're going to send me on a wild goose chase..."
"Fell for one of Sanguine's pranks, did you?" Mephala said, her eyes glittering. "Always been a little easily led. But only ever once." Her long eyelashes bounced as she blinked. The other woman looked through her handbag, pulling out a photo album, flicking through the pages.
"My children might be able to help." she said, pointing to one of the images. "Tell this Gein that her Night Mother sent you, hmm?" she pointed to the picture of a Nord woman shooting a Dunmer dead. Thavrin blanched a little but this was ridiculous. Why had he done this now? Maybe he should have asked around campus more.
Behind them, an argument was starting to break out.
"I like The Apprentice. I want to watch the Apprentice!"
"Well it bores the fuck out of me. I want to change the channel."
"You always want to change the channel, Dagon. You're like a broken record. Change this, change that. It wasn't that when Martin Septim kicked your sorry ass."
"And you would know all about asses, Assmaster."
"That doesn't even make any sense!"
"You don't make any sense Perry, you draconic cocksucker."
It was unsure who threw the first punch (or if Boethiah had shoved Peryite into Mehrunes) but it certainly picked up pace. Peryite picked up his walking stick and hit Dagon with it. He was about to attempt for a second when Mehrunes grabbed onto it and snatched it from his hands, punching the Taskmaster in the face, causing him to fly backwards and upset the Scrabble board.
Then things went quiet. Even Sheogorath stopped babbling. The man in black leaned over and picked up a scrabble piece. He stood up, standing far taller than any of the others could remember.
"The only cocksucker here is Sanguine." the voice growled. "Now, if you fuckers have finished your petty fights and desire to continue your existence you will not bother me again."
The Night Mother smiled, looking enamoured. "Sithis always had a way with words."
Thavrin looked around and high-tailed it out of there. He needed to find this gangster or assassin called Gein...
Thavrin knew, he just KNEW, that he had to somehow get the attention of Arwin. away from that bastardhandsomecreepydick Abaddon. After some less than subtle hinting around the shitastic bar that served as the student's union, he heard that he volunteered down at the nursing home. he hadn't expected that news - Abaddon hardly seemed like the volunteering type. Hell, Abaddon didn't seem the type of person you would want to fall in love with, what was Arwin thinking?!
"You don't know they're together." Luth said, cooing at him. Thavrin currently had his head on the bar, hiding behind his hands. He knew he had drank too much vodka (he didn't even like vodka at all) but it still seemed oh so set in stone.
"You didn't see the way they looked at each other!" he wailed, the words muffled from his hands and ever so slightly slurred from the booze. She shook her head, sipping on a poorly made Bloody Mary.
"Just because people look at each other doesn't mean they're fucking. I'm looking at you right now, does that mean I want to dicth my fiance and jump into bed with you?" There was a beat after she said this, as if to both ignore and emphasis the fact that they had indeed shared a bed on occasion. Not that it was unique - Thavrin could charm the panties off anyone if he so desired. Well, almost everyone...
"But-"
"Thavrin, you're drunk."
"I'm not!"
And despite any further pressing of the matter, Thavrin resolved to see how much of a fuck up Abaddon was and then tell Arwin who was obviously nice and would obviously take great pains if the man he loved was a douchebag.
--------
The Planeview Nursing Home seemed normal but the residents were - to be frank and honest - were mad. Madder than Thavrin was expecting as he bullshitted a way into volunteering. The rather harrassed looking woman who let him in just shooed him away.
There was a large living room that Thavrin could have sworn smelled of something that he wasn't expecting. There was the normal smell of dust, age and boiled sweets but there was something sinisterly sulphuric.
"We're going to watch Wheel of Fortune!" an elderly but attractive woman in black said, holding up the remote. There was a groaning from the armchairs around her.
"Nocturnal. if I have to watch that vapid, unchallenging quiz show one more time, I am going to strangle you with my tentacles."
"So what do you want to watch, shitface?" an elderly orc said, using a large hammer to prop himself up."
"A fight! Finally, something I do want to watch!" an elegant woman who had been filing her nails. A grinning, suave pensioner walked up to her, nudging her.
"Boey, I'll bet you ten souls that Malacath kicks Herm's ass."
"I thought you had stopped gambling when the nurses changed your meds?" the woman said, black eyes glittering. He flashed her a grin, winking.
"I still got it."
Thavrin walked over to one of the older looking crones who had fallen asleep. He nudged her before a bony hand gripped onto his.
"Do that again and you'll be dreaming of zombies fucking your mother for the next ten years." she growled. An orderly gave her a dirty look before muttering about language. "What do you want?"
Thavrin was a little in shock by the woman but he had to stick to the goal. "Well, I...I'm looking for this guy called Abaddon."
"And you woke me up to ask me about that? For the love of..." she said, shaking her head before closing her eyes. "Ask one of the other lowlifes."
Thavrin looked around. Why couldn't she just have told him? That's when he was grabbed at the waist by an overly jovial gentleman. even though he was laughing and friendly, there was something distinctly sinister.
"Well! It's not often we have visitors! Is it? No it isn't at all! Haha! Now, tell me...why are you here? No! Let me guess! You're with the electricity company here to give me a limited time offer to save nineteen and a third percent on my next session of electro-convulsive therapy! No, no, that's not right...you're a prostitute that's escaped from Sanny's basement of love! no, no, couldn't be, the nurses cleared that out..."
"I'm looking for a guy named Abaddon." Thavrin said, trying to edge away from him.
"Oh, him! That lunatic! I couldn't care less. Or I could care less. One or the other." he said, relinquishing his grasp. The suave talking man from earlier game across to him, looking relatively sympathetic.
"You sure know who to talk to." Sanguine said, laughing. "You're a bit of an idiot but that's fine...idiots are just as fun as intellectuals. Actually, probably a bit more. Oh well, do you want some jagga? That is the Bosmer one, isn't it? I can never remember. I could get you anything else - whiskey, vodka, rotmeth, skooma, crack, LSD or just some good, old fashioned tea."
"I'm just looking for-"
"Yeah, yeah. I have ears, sugarplum. But y'see, Thavrin, we don't get as many visitors as we would like in this shithole. We could just show you where he was but what fun would that be?"
"So..."
"Come back tomorrow. After you've went to this address." Sanguine said, pushing some money and a scribbled note into his hand. "I need some washing powder."
"The editors of the DSM-IV and the Illuminati?" said Ianthe, looking up from her textbook. Thavrin nodded wildly, a strange smelling coffee spilling over his notes.
"They're all in it together! The psychiatrists, the Illuminati, the Thalmor, the politicians, the Scientologists-"
"They all hate each other, dipshit." Frithjofr said, glaring at Thavrin. Frithjofr disliked that nutcase at the best of times but with deadlines for this stupid group project due soon, any level of tolerance had been eradicated with lack of sleep, bad caffeine drinks and fast food. Ancano kept writing ahead, scribbling in his notebook as if he was working by himself, not wanting any of the idiots he was forced to work with to see his genius writings.
"THAT'S WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO THINK!" Thavrin shouted loudly, his eyes wide and gleeful. The entire library was now staring at them, bleary eyed, and in no mood for that tweaker's bullshit today. It was bad enough that they were stuck with him asking stupid questions about conspiracy theories and all sorts of nonsense he kept finding on the Internet.
A very angry Urag walked over to the group, smacking Thavrin across the head with a copy of the Financial Times. "I warned you a thousand times." he grumbled moving back.
Thavrin paused, scratching his beard. He might have got the attention of the librarian but not of the man he really wanted the attention of. He always sat in the corner, minding his own business whilst sipping a soda. He was the most silent he had been that entire day, staring at him across the room. There was something beautiful about him. The way his wrists moved when he flicked the page of his newspaper, the way his eyes moved across the page, the way his lips curled around the bottle...
"Did you find the information on gender stereotypes in media or was there a documentary on sharks that you watched instead?" Ancano asked shrilly. How he got to work with this particular group of cretins was beyond him.
"I got it, I got it. Jeez." Thavrin said, dumping the notes in front of him quickly so he could watch the mysterious man again. "Nothing we didn't know before."
Ancano and Frithjofr sighed. This was going nowhere. Ianthe kept reading her textbook, ignoring everything else that was going on.
It was no use, he had to talk to him.
"Who is that guy?"
"He's an assistant to some professor or another." Ancano said dismissively, rolling his eyes.
"He's training to be one." Frifthjofr corrected, a look of triumph on his face that he knew something that Ancano didn't for once.
"I gotta ask him out." he said, a wild grin taking over his face. Ancano and Frithjofr looked at each other and shook their heads.They didn't like each other or see eye to eye on much but on the topic of Thavrin, they minds were as one.
"You can't date the faculty, idiot." Frithjofr said, glaring. "You've been taking too much skooma."
"You take skooma too, you hypocrite!"
"Not every night. I do it occasionally but you're never off the stuff."
"That's besides the point. You can so date faculty members! Ianthe is dating that Chemistry lecturer!"
Ianthe finally looked up from her textbook, blushing. "Thanks for broadcasting that, Thavrin..."
"I don't care, I'm going to..."
He looked over in horror as another man was sat beside him. He knew that hair, those scars, the gorgeous bastard eyes...
"Abbadon, you bastard."
Thavrin felt another smack across the head with the newspaper.
With M'zaa and Hil off doing, well whatever it was Thralls did when they had spare time, Relil was free to sit in one of the chairs in his room and observe the unconscious vampire. It wasn't often people came into his territory, and it was even rarer that a fellow vampire would chance that. He had undead elk and wolves wandering the perimeter, so it was quite lucky that M'zaa had managed to get the jump on this visitor. Had it been Hil, or one of the creatures, the vampire probably wouldn't have been so lucky.
As it was now, there was nothing to do but wait for him to regain consciousness So Relil simply observed him- you could learn a lot from people, he had found, by simply glancing at them. This vampire had a lot of scars marring almost every inch of skin. He was an Imperial, taller than Relil for certain, and clearly an adult. Or was an adult, before he was turned.
And hopefully he would wake up soon, because just sitting here and waiting was getting awfully boring. The red-eyed boy turned his gaze to the door instead, counting all the rings in the wood as he waited for the vampire to wake up. His small fingers tapped out an inconsistent melody on the arm of the chair the child was sitting in as he counted. One... Two... Three... Four...
It sometimes seemed that Falkreath Cemetery was more active at night than during the day. Citizens avoided the place at all times, but there were certain people - if people was the right word, and in many cases it wasn't - who found the cover of darkness particularly useful.The graves sprawled out some distance from the heart of the town in any case, far enough for Fria, at its outer limits, to find herself tripping over headstones in thickets of brambles.
She hitched up her robes and ploughed onwards through the dew. A pain, really, to pick her way forwards like this, but apparently polite society objected to a light spot of corpse desecration for an evening's recreation. It was a sentiment often expressed by adventurers who then went on to scrape the burial coin out of tombs, too. Quite ridiculous. Besides, desecration was an ugly word; maintenance, that was more appropriate.
She hummed idly over her own thoughts and swiped another string of thorns away from her clothes. She would find what she needed eventually. Until then, there was nothing to do but travel on through rows upon rows of the dead.
The werewolf raised an eyebrow but grinned. “How lovely to see you again,” she purred before placing a kiss on the Imperial’s neck, nipping his skin with her teeth. ((ehehehe))
The vampire smiled slightly and placed a gentle kiss against the vampire's neck. "Nice to see you, Abaddon."
