Planning and Inventing

[vamp]

The building didn't look like it should house a semi-cosmically powered being from an ancient era. Rats, maybe.

Sophia's nose curled up in disgust as she beheld the workshop. It had taken a good deal of research and mind bending to finally locate this place, and to figure out how to contact its unique owner. Several people were vegetables now, because they knew too much.

Now the vampiress stood outside the ancient's lair, frowning. Her abilities wouldn't work very well here. If her information and memory were correct, the ancient's mind was nearly unfathomable. Surface thoughts might be safe, but delving deeper would prove deadly.

Sighing, the vampiress tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear. Then she frowned, and slowly walked to the building. It might be dark, but she doubted that would deter the ancient. Most likely he would be endeavoring over some project. That was all well and good, Sophia had expected to deal with that.

She entered the building, looking around, attempting to discover the best manner of contacting the ancient. Perhaps her mere presence would be enough to garner his attention...

[Ϛ The Inventor]

In what appears to be a growing trend, The Inventor was nowhere to be seen.

If you still think this is odd, well, get used to it Buster. This is indeed a tale about The Inventor and he is indeed nowhere to be found. But, just as before, he is not the sole subject of this story, so suspend your disbelief and just go with the flow for now. I promise he'll be around soon enough.

Getting back on track, though; the mere presence of the Apocalypse would likely not be enough to garner The Inventor's attention. Sure, some people might have thought the Apocalypse something special, but as far as he was concerned, it could ring the bell on his front desk just like everyone else. So, while anyone who feared death may attest to the undeniable power of the vampiress present, she would have to ring the bell as well.

However, the narrator must be bored, because there was a slip of paper blocking a large portion of the bell from view. It read thusly:

If you're reading this note, you've done something terrible.

Nothing else explains how your luck is bad enough to come here the one day out of countless normal days that my bell decided to break. Stupid thing... after all these years together...

Anyway, I'm currently either fixing this bell or throwing this note in the garbage after already having successfully repaired it, so unless you're a nosy garbage collector, you're currently in my Workshop, probably trying to get my attention. Or maybe trying to steal my awesome swag.

In either case, your best bet is to leave and come back later or have a nap, because I'll probably be awhile, and without Belle the Bell, you've no hope of getting my attention. It's dreadfully noisy in here.

Ta for now,
The Inventor

Someone with the strength of, say, a dragon, or a vampire, or something of the like, may have been able to rip the Workshop's double doors off its hinges in an attempt to find the Inventor on their own, but they would find their attempts a waste of time when the doors would prove to lead to simply a solid wall. Such was the same for the door to the Inventor's apartment; neither would lead to anything but the wall behind them unless opened by The Inventor himself.

If you're curious as to why, let's just say it involves teleportation and leave it at that for now.

The point of all this being that Sophia could either waste her time playing by his rules, or waste her time trying to play by her own. Or, I suppose, just give up and leave, in which case she'd already wasted a good deal of her time.

Either way, The Inventor would be proud.

[vamp]

A note.

The Ancient proved as amusing as expected. Sophia even smiled slightly as she read it. Truly, she should play her game. Breaking the rules would be detrimental to her goals. Though she truly doubted that either course would matter that much, remembering what she knew about the Ancient. Had they met? She could not remember, and doubted that it truly mattered.

A broken bell though.

She studied the bell, frowning. In all her years, Sophia hadn't spent much time working. When you were a beautiful woman, you generally didn't have to. Humans were pathetic like that. Even more so when you had a vampire benefactor. However, in days gone by, Sophia had worked some. And had done some work.

While keeping her mind spread, awareness ready for the slightest change of presence, Sophia approached the bell. She curiously studied it, tentatively touching it. Assuming it didn't shock her, explode or commit some other act of sheer insanity, the vampiress would examine it further. Finally, when she'd thought she'd figured it out, the ancient vampire would begin to work on repairing the bell, or at least getting it to the point of being run.

Her skilled hands expertly worked at it, though she had an expression of half-interest. It wasn't her type of thing, after all.

[Ϛ The Inventor]

The bell did nothing interesting, besides remain stubbornly broken. At least, broken by The Inventor's standards; by normal standards it wasn't far from being fully working already.

However, this bell was not Belle.

As the note said, The Inventor was currently off in his Workshop, fixing the bell from his counter. The bell that had previously had the note propped against it was nothing more than an old bell he'd found on the curb and stuck there as a placeholder of sorts while the real bell was being repaired. Why he thought there needed to be a placeholder we may never know.

After a few moments of Sophia tinkering, there was a small puff of smoke on the counter and a bell popped into existence there; the original bell, Belle. There was a moment's pause during which it seemed the air itself became frustrated, and then the doors to the Workshop in earnest opened, curiously letting in absolutely no noise for once.

On the other end of things was this; The Inventor had finally fixed his magical, improbable bell, and had teleported it out to where it belonged. He had intended on teleporting the fake bell back to him afterward, but it is notoriously hard to teleport something to yourself that you can not see, even for a djinn. If he had known its exact whereabouts (which he did, before Sophia moved it) he could have pulled it off, but since he didn't, he had resigned to poke his head curiously out of the doors and see for himself what was going on.

"Oh," he said simply, as if nothing remotely out of the ordinary has ever taken place within a thousand miles of him in his entire lifetime. "Have you been waiting long?"

And with that, he stepped fully into the reception room, closing the large metal doors of the Workshop behind him. He looked as if he was itching to ask if he could help the woman who was playing with the bell with anything, but seemed resigned to wait until she had answered his first question, and so he simply fidgeted.

[vamp]

The sudden appearance of the bell almost caught Sophia by surprise. When it appeared before her, she arched her brows. Sophia studied it, then the bell in her hands, then the new bell. Slightly puzzled, the vampiress set the replacement bell back, remarkably close to where she found it.

The mental net tugged just before the Ancient stuck his head out, thus allowing Sophia to turn to stare at him. Knowing full well the dangers of reading djinn, she immediately withdrew her mental probes, reining in her extended mind, even going so far as to erect a few mental barriers. You didn't get to be Ancient without learning a few things.

"No," she said. "I have not been waiting long."

Sophia didn't need to study the Ancient. The vague rumors and suppositions had left her with a basic idea. Besides, she was probably one of the few beings with even a rudimentary understanding of the djinni.

She inclined her head slightly toward the Ancient, meeting his eyes. For a few moments, she felt a tingle. Mental tugging. She quickly withdrew, and forced a small smile toward the Ancient.

"My name is Sophia. And I believe we may have met in the past," she said. "By what should I call you?'

[Ϛ The Inventor]

"Ah, that's good. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting. Even if someone has all the time in the world, it's impolite to waste it without permission," he said sagely, with a benign smile. It was impossible to tell whether he said this because he himself was immortal or because he sensed that his visitor was, but neither was any more or less likely than the other.

The Inventor barely noticed the slight mental tickle before the thought was ushered away by countless others. Somewhere within him resided a relieved feeling, though; she had not tried to pry, this was good. For some reason, any time anyone ever tried, they ended up with a distant look in their eyes and wouldn't talk any more. He supposed such was simply the way of those not Djinn, or something. His métier biology was not.

Though in the moment of silence following her answer, he'd considered finally spitting out his question, he had barely opened his mouth when she took initiative and posed a question of her own. Rarely one to argue, The Inventor fielded the question as best he could.

"Well first of all, you may call me whatever you please, but I normally go by 'The Inventor'. My friends call me 'The'. No they don't." He didn't seem to notice he'd contradicted himself, or he didn't care, and he went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "Anyway, pleasure to meet you, Sophia. Or I suppose it is, anyway. Apparently we may have met before...?"

The last bit was as much a statement as a question, though he didn't sound like he expected an answer; he either didn't remember her, or didn't care to try. It would not be unlikely to suppose that few women other than his William garnered enough attention for him to remember. Either way, she received no answer to the question she technically didn't ask.

In fact, she received nothing for a moment, until The Inventor suddenly started.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me. Do you want a drink? Tea? Coffee? Whiskey?" he asked, the very image of perky and polite. "I'm afraid you've caught me at a bad moment; I'm a bit of a mess."

He gestured to his clothes, which weren't actually very dirty, but weren't exactly what one would wear when one had guests either; just his traditional denim suspenders with a button-down shirt under and work boots on his feet.

"Although it's quite likely you'd have a hard time not catching me at a bad time, to be quite honest. And I'm not even talking about 'I'm depressed everything is bad' bad times, I'm just not prepared to entertain most of the time." He looked almost bashful.

[vamp]

The Ancient had borne many names, much like Sophia herself. That he now called himself "The Inventor" did not surprise or even phase the vampiress. Nor did his unusual way of addressing her question. Djinns were often eccentric, after all, and none more so than the Ancient.... or the Inventor, she supposed.

"We may have met," repeated Sophia, nodding slightly. Yes, the vague tinkling if a possible memory somewhere in the back of the mind. The two timeless beings may have met at some point, most likely would have had to. However, the particular circumstances eluded even Sophia, known for her keen mind.

"Tea will be fine," answered the vampiress. It was one of the few beverages that held any appeal for her anymore. Much burned, yet tea still soothed. Perhaps dredging up a long buried memory. Who knows?

She looked at him now, daring to meet his eyes, "Time means little to me, truthfully. I know that there will never be a perfect time to meet with you, so I would rather just do so now. After all," she favored him with a smile, "that is why I am here."

Sophia feigned interest in her surroundings, all while endeavoring to concoct a circumspect plan. One must not lose potential so quickly.

[Ϛ The Inventor]

Her explanation about their possibility of having met seemed to be all The Inventor could ask for, because his expression was nothing but bemused as she said it. If he wanted to know more, he was doing a good job hiding it, but it was very likely he simply didn't care. Occasionally he would be inexplicably curious about something and would pursue it to the very limit of his ample abilities, but generally his past was not this thing.

Indeed, he seemed exponentially more interested in the fact that Sophia could do with some tea. As she looked in his eyes he was unconcerned, though it was abundantly clear that he was impatient, for some reason. Some reason being that he was itching to go get the tea, but why he was so eager to do so, not even I can explain.

"That's all very... could you hold that thought for just a minute?" The Inventor asked as Sophia finished prodding him with the tip of the iceberg that was the reason she was there. Holding a finger up in the generally accepted 'one moment please' gesture, he disappeared with a puff of crimson smoke.

A mere moment later he returned with a tea-tray in tow. "Cream?" he asked benevolently, setting the tray on his counter so he could free up the use of his hands. While he awaited a response he prepared his own tea, first taking a cup of tea, sans cream and sugar, and slamming it back like it was a shot, wincing at the burns he received and the bitter taste. "Chaser! Chaser!" he gasped at nothing in particular, pouring himself another cup, this time with a silly amount of cream and sugar, and this time he sipped it slowly instead.

It was only then, as he calmly drank his drink, that he finally acknowledged what Sophia had said. "I generally don't vend meet and greets, but a little invisible bat tells me that's not exactly what you're after."

He offered nothing else by way of an explanation, nor did he question her further. Perhaps he was enjoying this 'game', perhaps he didn't know nearly as much as he made it sound like he did, or perhaps he was simply too engrossed in his tea to care about much else. The uncertainty is what makes him him.

[vamp]

Games, games games.

Honestly, for once Sophia couldn't tell if someone was playing games with her, or whether this was the true being coming forth. Djinni had always been awkward, chaotic creatures, known for sudden bursts of madness, genius, creativity, and disorder. Usually there appeared to be a great mind working behind the scenes, but you never could tell. The nearly cosmic powers contained within that small form usually overwhelmed the brain, after all.

"Interesting," the vampiress addressed the smoke as it wafted. The An... Inventor's actions were decidedly unusual, though not completely unexpected. Well, that may not be wholly accurate. Sophia had come with the idea that the Ancient may very well act in an erratic pattern. Thus she expected the unexpected.

"Thank you," replied Sophia, nodding. She took the tea cup, took the proffered cream. Delicately the liquid flowed over the vampiress's lips. Quite an interesting flavor, as to be expected.

Amber eyes went to the An...Inventor yet again. "I am here for many things. Meeting someone who is possibly older than me is always a special treat."

Sip, study.

"Indeed though, I was hoping to discuss more serious matters with you. But I am not certain of your receptiveness."

Sip, study.

Pause.

[Ϛ The Inventor]

"Oh, you're quite welcome," The Inventor graciously replied, after sipping his own tea. He listened intently to what Sophia had to say, his expression unchanging except for a brief flash in his eyes when she mentioned, in a roundabout way perhaps, his age. His exact age, or even a good estimate, was something he generally didn't talk about. He preferred to leave it at 'older than you', for the most part.

He tried his best to reply to what she had said, but found his mind wandering. Before it could escape, he managed to get something out. "How receptive I am depends on what I'm receiving. A pizza, for instance, garners a warm welcome. A punch in the nose... well, go ahead if you want to, but you would hurt my feelings." But then he was back to thinking about age.

He was older than her, that much he was sure of, if only because he was older than the human race from which vampires came, but with how old they both were, their age difference was comparatively small. Did that mean they were supposed to share the same interests, or was he supposed to be into big band music and she into rock and roll?

He hadn't the slightest idea, but he thought he probably should. It seemed somehow much more important, at the moment, than finding out what these 'many things' she spoke of were. She would get to that in time, while he was liable to forget he even had a question to ask.

"Do you like rock and roll?" he inquired, looking at Sophia questioningly. "Because I'm partial to big band music, myself," he added, sounding offhanded and unconcerned, yet somehow defiant at the same time. It was clear there was a lot riding on her answer, though what it was a lot of remained to be seen.

He sipped his tea.

It turned out to be empty though, and when he tried to pour another glass, the teapot surrendered no beverage to him either. He looked momentarily disconcerted before he picked up the cream and took a sip of it plain. He proceeded to stare down the milk-moustache that this particular action brought into existence upon his upper lip.

"Hello there," he mumbled brightly at the new, milky, moustache-y entity, as if talking to a young child or a favourite pet. He seemed to more or less forget there was someone else in the vicinity, for a moment.

[vamp]

If she thought she could, Sophia would probably try to kill the djinn.

Yes, she respected his power, and his ability to more or less avoid detection by the Academy for so many years. It wasn't in Sophia to not harbor some respect for those older then her, if not because there were so few in that particular group. The older you got, the less peers you had. Being immortal only complicated that issue.

But his inanity grated upon the vampiress's nerves. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even bother with him. Certainly would never court to his pointless babbling. These were hardly normal circumstances, however.

"I always preferred classical," she replied, "though there's something to be said for a good folk song. European folk, not the dreadful variation produced in the New World."

In truth, the vampiress loved much of music. It always changed, with new patterns constantly emerging. something so in flux was quite desirable to someone like her.

"What do you know of the Academy?" asked Sophia, making the question casual. Clearly there wasn't much of a decorum to follow for this particular exchange, so Sophia didn't bother.

[Ϛ The Inventor]

The corner of lip milky lip curled slightly upward in amusement as Sophia grew increasingly impatient with him. He was no mind-reader, he had no powers of empathy, but he was, in general, pretty in tune with how people felt, and even if he wasn't, the ire of someone like Sophia was hard to ignore. But unlike most people without a death wish, he seemed to find it at least slightly entertaining.

However, he wasn't a jerk, and now that he knew her skin was at least somewhat get-under-able, he figured he should try and actually converse seriously with her, and find out what it was she wished to speak with him about.

It's sort of difficult to be serious with a milk-mustache, though. He stared cross-eyed at the lip-cooler and, deciding its life was of very little importance within the grand scheme of things, licked it out of existence with extreme prejudice.

"Classical," he said once he'd finished his lip maintenance, "is pretty good too. And I know what you mean about folk." He made an 'I just died in this grotesque position thinking about it' face, all terribly contorted and the like. However, he did not know what she meant about folk. He'd probably never even heard any music but classical, honestly; he was just making conversation.

He was glad when she finally got to the root of things, because he was, for some reason, adamant about not asking her outright, and truly did want to hear her out, if only because she'd kept him from boredom for the past few minutes. He had to give her one last answer she might not like, but he reasoned that this was completely her fault, for asking a question of such extraordinary ambiguity.

"I could probably speak for a few days on the Academy without you learning anything new or useful, as with any subject. You would be wise to ask me exactly what you want to know; beating around the haystack with a needle won't get you anywhere but frustrated."

Seeing as there was no tea left anyway, he dipped a digit into the sugar dish at regular intervals, and sucked the sweet crystals off his finger, smiling serenely all the while. Sophia could probably never know just how lucky she was, getting advice on how to deal with a djinn like him from he himself.

[vamp]

The art of conversation was something the vampiress had long since mastered, of course. But dealing with djinni was another matter. Dealing with the Ancient was something else entirely. For once, Sophia felt herself struggling to stay on top of the conversation, and even then she wasn't certain she was managing it.

"You flatter me by assuming I know so much," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. A false gesture, practiced to look real. "I apologize if my manner of addressing things is not to your liking."

She took a sip of tea now, gathering herself. The hot liquid reminded her somewhat of blood, though not nearly as thick nor refreshing. Still, it was acceptable.

"Let me be frank then. I'm perfectly aware of most of the work that goes on in the depths of that 'school,'" the word almost sneered out of Sophia's lips, "but there is one piece of the puzzle that I am not as cognizant of: the Artifact."

Silence needed to follow such a weighty word, and Sophia allowed it to, taking another quiet sip of her tea. Another practiced gesture, of course.

"I have found nothing but rumors on that subject. Some say that it no longer exists, but has instead disappeared into the mists of time. Other argue that it was destroyed by the jealous founders. The most popular rumor dictates it to be in the bowels of the Academy," Sophia dared meet the Ancient's eyes again. "But perhaps the most intriguing rumor is that it belongs to an ancient being; one said to have the greatest understanding of the strange piece..."

[Ϛ The Inventor]

"Better to flatter you by assuming you know much than to insult you by assuming you don't," The Inventor said. There was a sort of twinkle in his eye, though, that seemed to suggest he knew she knew more than she let on. Then again, maybe it was just a twinkle.

As Sophia finally got to the root of things, The Inventor listened intently, only occasionally looking elsewhere in the room, for a change. When she paused to let the gravity of the words 'the Artifact' set in, he leaned forward and tilted a single wide eye further toward her, his mouth slightly agape. And when she went on, a look of confusion, or perhaps disappointment, took its place.

"Oh, pish-posh," The Inventor said almost grumpily. "Of course it exists! Do you think an object of such power, something that has been around even longer than me, could be destroyed by mere mortals? Of course not. Do you think such a thing could simply be forgotten? I'd imagine they must have the thing locked up somewhere behind all sorts of barriers, because something that powerful would draw people to it simply by nature if they didn't somehow conceal its emanations."

The look of near-disgust on his face melted then, as if it had only been an act all along. "But you don't believe this, do you? You wouldn't be here if you did, and you don't live this long if you're that naïve anyway."

He banished all evidence of a tea party but the very cup Sophia was drinking from just then, and appeared, for once, all business. "So I'm to understand, then, that the gist of what you're saying is that you want to know what I have to say about the Artifact? Well, I really shouldn't, since you still refuse to cut to the chase," he gave her a sort of mock-stern look, "but oh well."

He disappeared again, though it was merely a second or two before he returned, holding a smallish object in his hand. "It's easier to just show you," he explained, holding the object out to Sophia. "I don't have the Artifact, no, because it's really not worth the trouble, but I do have a piece. Nearly killed myself separating it from the rest. We're both composed of some very volatile stuff, you know?"

"Anyway, I studied that piece as much as I could, and eventually grew bored of it. Now I pretty much use it as a paperweight. It's not large enough to manipulate the human DNA, but it's largely equivalent to a scale model of the real thing; it's just as good for experiments, and much less dangerous too. If you want to know anything about it, you can try to get a straight answer out of me, or you can study it yourself. You're welcome to use my equipment. However, it does not leave this building."

There was something in his eyes then that suggested the piece was far more important to him than he let on. It was almost a literal fire burning within him that communicated very well, to mortal or immortal, telepath or not, 'do not f**cking mess with me'. It was the sort of thing that was only ever seen by the amount of people that you could count on one hand, even in his long years, and no one had ever tested what would come if they didn't heed the warning.

It was probably better that way.

[vamp]

Naturally Sophia knew of the existence of the Artifact. She'd had a... let us say, a personal connection with the unusual device. The tidbits she'd strewn before the Ancient had been there simply to lead him in the direction she'd wanted the conversation to go, and thus far, she hadn't been disappointed.

"Forgive me," she smiled, "it's not in me to simply cut through the pleasantries. Blame my raising."

Her eyes widened slightly as the Ancient continued. A piece? He'd somehow managed to secure a piece of that great item? Truly, it wouldn't be nearly as useful as the real thing, probably wouldn't have enough power to create a reaction worth noting. However...

however it was a start. Something that Sophia could use. While she did not have the Ancient's mind, nor his tendency toward dissecting and analyzing. Yet Sophia saw the world differently then most. To see something like this... would be worthwhile.

"If you have any notes," she began, "I would appreciate reading those. If you do not; simply looking at the marvelous item up close would be sufficient. Either way."

She set down the tea cup, templing her fingers. "How interested are you in studying the real thing? In seeing it up close and personal? Analyzing the source instead of bits and pieces. Does this... interest you, oh Ancient one?"