nouveausang (nouveausang) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-07-28 20:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: rhys green, character: tristian mayfair |
WHO: Rhys & Tristian
WHEN: July 28th
WHERE: New York, around the haven
WHAT: facing fears Exploring, practice, character growth
WARNINGS: None, probably
Left to his own devices after coming to the decision that he'd learn all he could before Henry came back, Rhys had dug through the books again with a new appreciation. Things that had been disregarded before, or skipped, were relooked over, whether he need to do so or not. Added to the shelves upon shelves already in his sire's home were a few that had been lent to him. Amadeus, not mister, was busy so it was up to Rhys to do a lot on his own. Not that he minded, he liked having the man around a little more than he used to, but he should be able to do things like research and take notes by himself, without supervision. There was no room for doubts or the like to come crawling through his mind in times like these. No.
Hours stretched into whole nights but finally, finally, there was something that almost slapped him in the face. A ritual that would allow him to contact his sire directly, telepathically. If he did this right, he could connect to Henry and find out if... He could possibly find out where he was, if he was held against his will or not. Hear his voice again. Did it work that way? He'd find out in a moment, hopefully. He got a trinket he knew his sire kept around often, something he touched a lot, and sat, reading the chant from the book. After the first time, he closed his eyes, chanting over and over, willing the blood he'd just finished to fuel the magic. Just as he was taught, he could feel something starting to move inside of him.
After several moments, several rounds of the chant, however, it became quite clear he wasn't going to get an answer. Nothing but the abyss looked back. His fingers had become so tight around the object in his hand, it left an imprint, the desperation clear in just that. The description of the ritual had said it was level one, entry level. Even someone like him was supposed to have been able to do this! In a spark of anger and disappointment in himself, he almost threw the object in his hand but he stopped at the last moment, simply just letting himself flop over. Where did he go from here? If he wasn't able to do anything, how was he supposed to impress anyone at this point? Maybe he could go find someone to help him?
Going outside wasn't something he usually wanted to do these days, even if he wasn't technically under house arrest anymore, but he didn't know how to contact his teacher otherwise. He usually just showed up when he wanted to. Pulling on yet another slightly too big hoodie, the young Tremere slipped Henry's item into his pocket and headed out into the night.