Making Plans (Open)

[Mischa Amesbury]

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Honestly, right now he couldn't be entirely certain where Xavier was...and though a part of the little dhampir very definitely wished that wasn't the case, the rest of him well understood the other's need for secrecy. After all, unlike himself - Xavier lived a double life. Loyal slave and free-thinking revolutionary. It was a tough balance, and while Mischa wasn't the sort to feel pity or compassion...he found that, surprisingly, he could feel such a thing for Xavier. Indeed, he could feel a whole host of things for the larger male, which was likely the most puzzling thing about their relationship. Puzzling and intriguing. 


Right now though, relations weren't entirely on his mind as Mischa examined what was spread out before him on the table. They were a bit faded, but Mischa's eyes were sharp enough that they could make out quite clearly every line and note sketched onto the blueprints of the very building Xavier had decided to take over - the irony of that choice not at all lost on him. It was a handy place to have. Quiet. Set away from the other clans, and relatively unobtrusive in it's rambling, broken down splendor. Some would probably hate living in a place that was essentially now a ruins, but Mischa - well, Mischa had slept in worse conditions than this so very little actually phased him.

Besides, the term 'ruins' could only be applied in the loosest way possible. Everything had remained in tact - including all furniture. True valuables were missing, or at least some of them were, but other than that...it had looked simply like any other mausoleum, complete with about six inches of dust. Once the dust had been cleared, then really it was a perfect place - cozy even. Warm. The only thing that had been 'destroyed' were the electrical wires, which was precisely the bothersome thing he was currently puzzling over via the blueprints. 


Now, Mischa didn't truly believe that the wires themselves were the problem. It was likely just a matter of turning the power back on, and while that might not seem like a true issue - in this case it was. They're 'cause' depending on secrecy, and they didn't need any incurring bills to announce their whereabouts to the world. No, if it was going to be done, it needed to be done off the radar...but how was he to make it work? 


He leaned forward a bit, bracing himself against the table by flattening his palm against it's surface - one hand reaching up to scrub it's way back through hair that was still mussed from sleep. A glance was given in the direction of the door, a brow raised slightly as he watched one of the resistance members walk on by, and then his attention returned back to the blue prints. He needed to figure out the workings of the wires so he could then decide on the best way to get the power back on so they wouldn't have to function in the middle ages. It was just something that would take a while - so perhaps it was good, that currently Mischa had nothing but time on his hands. 

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Word Count: 531


Wearing: A pair of low-hanging black sweat pants, white socks, and a white slim-fitting v-neck t-shirt under an unzipped grey hoodie.  

[Xavier Corinthos]

   He had to be careful. Xavier didn't take chances at being discovered for who he was, not even by his followers. Currently, Mischa was still the only one to be aware of his real position in the resistance movement, and it was best that it stayed that way.  As it was, Xavier had made his way to their new hide out.  He'd been eager to secure it the moment that word had reached him about the fate of the vampire clan that had once been here. 

   Of course, he had almost no forewarning.  That was the problem with Clanmaster DiPaulo.  He, apparently, was well favored by his people.  Actually, Xavier wasn't surprised by that. Working for 'Zeo' at his club Sinful, he had some experience with the ancient vampire.  In truth, if there was the option of keeping a vampire as old as Zeo contained, well, he might not mind letting the man live under his control.  As it was, it was not an option.  All vampires that reached their 100th year had to be put down.  As it was, those withing the 50th to 100th range, might also be put down to an extent. It was all a matter of numbers. 
 
   It wasn't difficult to spot Mischa, clearly at work. The smaller Dhampire had proven to be an even better investment than he had initially thought, to be honest.  Still, there were times, that his mind traveled back to a specific time between them.  There was more to Mischa than one might think... yet oddly, he wasn't suspicious, even if the effect the other's behavior had had on him, made the larger Dhampire uneasy. 

   Walking by silently, Xavier wore a light jacket that was oversized just enough for him to pull the hood in a way to partly conceal his features in a way that wouldn't draw attention to himself. He wasn't coming here to address his followers, but that didn't mean he didn't want to keep his being noticed to a minimum.  As he moved by, he allowed his finger trips to brush against the back of the other's neck.  The touch just enough to alert the other to his presence as he moved on.  The hall was no place for them to talk, but he did want to catch up with the other on the goings ons in their new 'residence' as well as with those that had moved in.  Xavier, for good or ill, was still very much an owned Dhampire, and that meant he didn't have the option of remaining here too often. He had a 'master' he had to serve, and to serve loyally and semi-mindlessly. 

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Word Count: 450
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[Mischa Amesbury]

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Xavier's presence was like a magnet, one that pulled in such a way that Mischa felt it far before the larger dhampir even approached. Yet, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to gravitate to him, Mischa remained where he was - simply studying the blueprints and otherwise not acknowledging Xavier as it simply wasn't wise when there were those around that had no business knowing exactly who their leader was. The other's fingers brushing against the back of his neck though, well they had a new sort of stillness entering the smaller dhampire's lean form - the sort that came with not being accustomed to unexpected and unwarranted touches and furthermore, enjoying those touches and not quite knowing what to do about it. 


A subtle shiver wound it's way up his spine, and Mischa paid keen attention to it, his lashes lowering some as he did so. It was unusual sensation, but one he eventually decided was pleasant - and with his lashes lowered in the manner they were, it gave him leave to follow the back of Xavier with a subtly predatory gaze as he walked away. Ah yes, the memory from that particular evening at the club the other worked at was still quite fresh in Mischa's mind as well - and unlike Xavier he knew /exactly/ what he planned on doing about it. It was just a matter of time, and perhaps it was lucky that Mischa found himself with enough of it to consider things. 


His gaze continued to follow the other dhampir's retreating form until it moved out of view of his peripherals, and when that happened, he merely continued to peruse the blueprints as it wasn't wise to just up and leave as it was known that doing such a thing when he was in the middle of something wasn't Mischa's way. Such a deviation in his normal methods would be noticed, and questioned by those that might have been suspicious of him - which, if the dhampir beneath him were smart, would be all of them. After all, his loyalty was to Xavier, and he could care less about those others of their race that donated their bodies to the 'cause'. 


When he considered it was safe to move, Mischa shifted a bit and took a moment to stretch before carefully rolling up the delicate paper he'd been eyeing and then went off in the direction of his room. Or at least the room that he'd taken over as his since the move. But instead of turning into the door that would take him to where he slept, he took a different turn and headed into the room that had once been the clan mistress's personal quarters and now served as their headquarters. The door was opened and closed quietly as it wasn't Mischa's way to make a lot of noise - and though around the others he tended to keep his head down to appear as if he were just another minion, when he strode fully into the room there was little that was diminutive or submissive about him. There was no point in pretending when it was just them...not when Xavier had already seen the /real/ Mischa Amesbury. 


"It's nice to see that you made it out tonight.", he said easily, his gaze direct rather than dropped slightly below the other's. "I understand our little...gesture was noticed." A strange hint of a smile quirked his lips - strange perhaps because of the genuine nature of it as talking about his 'work' always brought Mischa pleasure. Though there was a hint of disgust in his tone as he next spoke. "Humans. Foolish things couldn't find a castle in the middle of a graveyard if they weren't given direction..." 

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Word Count: 626

[Xavier Corinthos]

   Figuring the other would finish his task, Xavier chose a proper waiting place. Really, he should have found some way to keep himself busy, because the only thing that ended up happening was that his mind started to travel. 

    "Of course that's all you can think about, you..."
The insults were silenced as he heard the approach of another.  Virgil was likely the source of what cut Tarra's imminent attack off.  There was no room for argument when they were here.  The fact that it was Mischa that showed up either didn't matter, or escaped the notice of the one reigning Tarra in. 

    "Their gullibility has it's uses. I do find the results of our first 'gesture' though", he admits in those neutral tones of his.  "We should consider our next move.  Perhaps it's time for the 'humans' to offer retribution. "  It would be helpful if they could come up with a favored pet, or even better a vampire that was favored by his or her clanleader.  Speaking of that half of their little problem.  There was still the matter of the new liaison. It was just about time that made a move on creating decent between him and the damn foreigner.  Their 'gesture' could help him with that as well. However, if he used it that way, he'd have to be careful. 

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Word Count: --
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