who: Ethan Chandler & Holland Vosijk when: June 23rd, the morning after this where: Miss Wells' residence What: Ethan meets the house Magician to discuss further contingency plans. warnings: Nope status: COMPLETE.
There were conversations that Ethan Chandler did not wish to have and the subject of his transformations was near the top of the list. Seldom did he speak of his affliction these days. With his return to this world and this time, he'd had one willing conversation on the subject, and that was with his chosen allies from his previous venture to this era; specifically with Miss Gwynn. Placing his faith in a witch wasn't an action he'd terribly enjoyed the first time around but Miss Gwynn had delivered spectacularly in the past. She was an unusual girl, full of youth and joy, in a way that Ethan found charming. She was nothing like the witches he'd crossed paths with in his time. With his return after a year of absence, it was she who Ethan thought of first to ensure that he had plans in place for the approaching full moon.
Speaking of his transformation with Miss Wells, however, had not been in his plans. There was a moment of self reflection when Ethan considered whether it was wrong of him to keep information about his true self from his landlady. He'd settled on what his usual outlook was. It was better to keep it to himself and to keep precautions in place. He was no longer knowledgeable of his afflictions. He could ensure that he did not harm any innocent soul any longer. However, the unexpected had occurred, and he'd been taken by surprise by the messages of correspondence with Miss Wells. She'd become wise to the magic he'd had set around his lodging and there were questions. The surprise and the hint of guilt that came forward prompted honesty from Ethan. Looking back upon the moderate admission to his curse, he wasn't certain if it was the right decision to have made or not. He supposed only time would tell. As of present, though, he still remained within the rented room he'd been so graciously offered upon his first morning back in Tumbleweed.
Advancing down the stairs, his eyes cast off in the direction of the servants quarters. It was there that Miss Wells had informed Ethan that the magician lived. It had been the magician that had put him on the path of admission. Ethan was uncertain as to whether or not Miss Wells had relayed Ethan's own words back to the man. Did he know of Ethan's affliction or was he still waiting to figure out what the magic had been installed for? It did not seem important to Ethan to potentially satisfy the other man's curiosity. However, Miss Wells had stated that should he need any other assistance of a magical variety, that he should speak to this Mr. Holland.
And though he was certain Miss Gwynn's work was sufficient, he couldn't help but consider how it may be worth speaking with the gentlemen, to have yet another layer of safety in place. The only trouble was that in order to set this brick down, Ethan would need to engage him and explain what was at stake, which would open up another individual to the truth that he usually held so close to his chest. Exhaling, he turned the corner and moved in that direction, stopping at his door. Reaching out and rapping on the wood with his knuckles, Ethan spoke. "Mr. Holland?"
--
Holland had not been in the house when Mr. Chandler had moved in. He had purposefully made himself scarce that day, because he had known Rhy and Alucard and possibly Kell would be attending her party, and their truce -- such as it was -- stated that he was to stay away from them. He did not really mind avoiding the party, as he was not a particularly sociable sort, and so he returned to Shanghai, a place he had been to a few days prior, thanks to the portals to the pride parades. It was a very interesting city, and had no shortage of places to explore.
He had not paid much attention to the new residents when he’d returned. He had been gone again, this time at the library for his work shift, when the new magic had been put in place on Mr. Chandler’s room, and since it was not dark or corrupted magic, his wards had not been tripped. But he had smelled it the instant he’d arrived back at the house. He would have been able to smell it blocks away, but he hadn’t walked; he had used his magic to take him directly from the library into his room.
The smell of it lingered, sweet but powerful, dense, overwhelming to Holland’s senses. It was a little irritating, truthfully, but a very minor irritation compared to his nagging curiosity about the purpose of it. He wanted to test it, but Miss Wells had told him that she wanted to handle the matter first.
Still, since she had confronted Mr. Chandler about it, it was not entirely surprising to hear his footsteps outside Holland’s door. Holland was on his bed, reading; he looked up briefly at the knock. He paused for a moment, then briefly lifted one hand from the book -- which rested against his lap -- and, with the smallest movement of a finger, moved the metal of the lock to unlock the door.
“Come in,” he said mildly, loud enough to be heard through the door.
--
Ethan had crossed his arms over his chest after stepping back from the door and his head had bowed. It was a natural pose for him and one of which he was most comfortable in. So, with the invitation being loud enough to be heard, his gaze tilted upwards to look upon the door. He'd not intended to venture inside the other man's room. Still, it wasn't as though he were afraid to do so and with another exhale, he moved forward, reaching out to clasp the door handle and push it open.
He had a confidence to his step as he moved and his eyes had lifted to take in Mr. Holland the moment he'd stepped inside. Instinctually, he shut the door behind him, and gazed upon the man on the bed. There was only a second of pause between shutting the door and Ethan advancing towards the bed. He didn't appear hostile in his movement and even before he'd gotten halfway there, his hand was outstretched in greeting.
"Holland, correct?" He asked, coming to a stop and extending his hand towards him.
--
Holland’s green and black gaze landed on Mr. Chandler the moment the door opened, and he stretched his magic out towards the other man. This was the closest that they’d gotten, and at this distance, surely, Holland would have been able to sense that sweet scented, intense magic, even if the man was doing everything he could to cover it up. But he sensed nothing. Nor did he appear to be even carrying anything particularly magical. Just to be safe, he carefully used his magic to take in the shape of the man’s bones, but there was nothing unusual to be found there either.
The lack of answers only increased Holland’s curiosity. He had not moved yet, but as the man approached, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood in one swift movement, still holding the book in one hand. While the approach was not exactly hostile, Holland was not trusting enough to take it for friendliness either, especially when this was a man who very clearly had something to hide.
“Correct,” he answered. He looked at the outstretched hand, and after a beat, clasped it briefly and then released it. “And you are Mr. Chandler.”
--
"Ethan," he stated, though he wouldn't offer it up further if the man chose to continue referring to him as Mr. Chandler. His handshake was firm and steady but it did not linger or try to hold Holland in place. Once they separated, his hand moved to sweep back, pushing the lengthy duster of a coat back so his palm could rest against his hip, thumb looped into a belt loop.
"Miss Wells tells me you are a magician," he cut straight to the point. There was no sense in dancing round the subject or having further pleasantries. And the framing of his words carried an underlying meaning of how Ethan knew of the conversation that had taken place between his landlady and the man. "You got a strong sense of what I had put in place?"
--
Holland’s hand lowered simply to his side, and he stayed exactly where he was, posture straight but not stiff or tensed. He had a default facade of calm indifference, and he maintained it now. He was not convinced that Chandler was any sort of a threat to him, and he was relatively confident in his ability to handle him, if he was.
“Yes,” he answered, because it was true, and there was no point in lying. But he did not elaborate on how he knew, or what he thought the magic was for. “I have an agreement with Miss Wells to protect her house and its residents. That includes making her aware of unauthorized magic. I assume the two of you came to some agreement?”
--
"Authorized or unauthorized magic wasn't really a part of the discussion when she was offering up a room," he stated with a sense of indifference. It would have been nice to know if it was going to be an issue before he had done so. He would have at least not let it have been a surprise had he known. On the magic front, at least.
"We have," he confirmed. "And as you have an agreement to protect the house, should I expect that you'll do what you can if the protection spells I have in place waiver?"
--
Holland shrugged. “I doubt there’s a rule against it, but you must admit it looked suspicious.”
It still did, because he still didn’t know why the magic was in place. He suspected Miss Wells knew, or she might have kicked the man out of her house. Unless perhaps she was afraid of him, and depending on her agreement with Holland to protect her from him.
He raised his eyebrows. “Of course. Are you going to tell me what they are designed to protect against, or let me find out in the moment?” It bothered him a little to reveal that he didn’t already know, but he was also rather pleased that his estimation of the foreign magic had been accurate, so it more than evened out.
--
Ethan shrugged as well. It hadn't been intended to look suspicious. It hadn't been intended to be noticed at all.
"They are protecting against escape," he said, casually, as if that didn't create more suspicion. "It is to keep me inside."
--
Holland raised his eyebrows. “And yet here you are,” he said drily. “You’ve escaped.”
--
"Keen observation," he replied before adding, "There will be a time when I do not wish to. That time is not now."
--
“Mm,” Holland murmured noncommittally. “And when will that time be?”
--
"Thursday." He then released his hand from his hip and let it fall by his side. "We good then, Mr. Holland?"
--
“Thursday,” Holland repeated. “And will the magic be removed after that, or will it remain in place for… future need?”
He wasn’t going to bother answering the man’s question. It was clear that Chandler had something to hide, something he very much didn’t want to tell Holland, and if he wanted to keep dancing around the truth of it, that was his business. But what details pertained to Holland keeping the house safe, he intended to press for. He was not always here -- and did not intend to always be here -- and while he had safeguards in place for that, and could return in only a moment regardless of where he was, he did not intend to leave a known threat in the house up to chance.
--
"It will remain." There was a beat before he added, "It will not be added to. If I need any further assistance, I will come to you, per Miss Wells wishes."
He didn't necessarily love that but he had agreed. It was easier to admit a need for favors from someone he knew than a stranger. But he would cope. He waited now to see if the man had further questions.
--
Holland shrugged. “If that’s her preference.”
He supposed it did fall under the purview of protecting the house, so he wasn’t going to refuse, but neither did he particularly care about whether Chandler used another magician’s magic. The one he had chosen was obviously quite strong. “If you would tell me in advance when you will be… contained, I will make a point to be here, as a safeguard. Otherwise, I have set my own wards on the house already.”
--
Ethan took note of the shrug and got the impression that Holland mind not be as insistent as Miss Wells was. No matter.
"I do not wish to force you to adhere to my schedule. If you can be on hand Thursday, and nothing goes wrong, I see no point in asking you to be there for further incidents." He knew if he broke free, the safeguards Holland had in place would likely do nothing to stop him from harming those who resided inside.
—
“Mr. Chandler.” Holland’s voice was now all ice. “I will discover your schedule one way or another. The question here is whether you will make it easier by telling me, or force me to figure it out for myself.”
He took a step closer to the other man, invading his space a little, his gaze unwavering, his all-black eye seeming even more full of an endless, bottomless, darkness up close. “Magic can weaken, or be broken, especially under repeated stress. Your magician is very strong, and their wards will likely hold for a while. But you are still yet worried about safeguards, which means the threat you pose is also quite strong. Do not be so stupid as to ask me to underestimate you.”
—
"I have no qualms with you knowing my schedule. I simply do not wish you to feel obligated," he corrected, noting the shift in tone. However, Holland was stepping closer, so Ethan didn't immediately offer an answer to the implied question.
"And as Miss Wells' trusted magician I am sure you will be able to tell if the wards become too weak, and will then know to take action." He did not want to be underestimated but he did feel if they made it through this first moon without incident that they would know what extremes they needed to go to. Holland wasn't someone he particularly wanted to trust. He had his safeguard for his safeguard already in place with Erik. Holland was just another layer of contingency.
—
“I have already agreed to protect this house,” Holland replied, mildly. “So long as you are under this roof, the obligation is already there.”
He hadn’t particularly expected Miss Wells to take such a person under her roof, but he was not truly surprised by it, either. It meant that he had more security in his usefulness to his landlord, and she was getting her money’s worth, so he was not truly complaining. “A few days advance notice will do.”
—
Ethan took in a breath and gave a nod of his head. If that was the way he wanted to view it, so be it. Ethan wasn't thinking to argue with how the man saw his obligations. "Every full moon," he answered instead. The man would potentially have all the pieces he needed to figure out what this meant. Ethan had come to understand his affliction, though uncommon to his knowledge in his world, was quite popular in this one. With that, Ethan nodded his head to Holland, and turned to vacate the room.
—
Holland remained calmly impassive, didn’t show any trace of surprise, which he hardly even felt. What he felt was curiosity. But he said nothing, and did not move to return the nod, either.
He only moved when Ethan turned, and then only a twitch of his fingers, enough to turn the doorknob and open it before the man had even taken a full step toward it. A very small demonstration of his magical power, not intended to show off (if he’d wanted to do that, it would have been far more dramatic), but rather, to reassure him that Holland did indeed have some capability to back up his claims. The speed of it perhaps being almost more important than the power itself. Holland had been born with power, but experience had given him that speed, that readiness for anything. And in its own way, the gesture was also his way of saying goodbye.
He kept his eyes on the man, still, though he didn’t really need to. If he was honest, he felt some sympathy for him, a man who felt he had to enforce his own captivity. Sympathy, and curiosity, but no fear. Distrust, certainly, because Holland no longer trusted anyone. But whatever the man was, Holland was confident he had already seen worse.