Amadeus Lazarus (sanguinemagic) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2021-03-20 05:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: amadeus lazarus, character: julian blackwood, character: liam zhu, character: micah lucciano, character: roman parrish, character: rook |
“Amadeus, I know you saw me,” Roman pointed out.
It caused the Tremere to sigh deeply and turn back on his heel, spinning back around to face the Toreador. “Did I?” He tried looking and sounding innocent as he asked—and failed greatly. Anyone who fell for Amadeus pretending to be innocent was a fool. Roman was not that fool.
The Toreador Lawyer had stepped up and pitched in where needed since everything that happened so Amadeus wasn’t surprised that the younger Kindred had stuff for him. The irony that aside from himself and Micah that all the Kindred that were left and helping out were all under 200 was not lost on him. It was what Lucian had tried for—or claimed to anyway—and yet it had taken him and the elders of the city to die or flee for it to happen.
“You did and we both know it.” Roman fell into step and started passing over file folders to the Sheriff. “Here’s further reports from the CS. The employees who are suspected of having worked when the supply was tainted have already been pulled for Micah to question himself. Also the Succubus Club has reopened but is testing all Dolls to make sure they’re not coming in dosed up on the drug the CS used. Which we’re still trying to analyze.” Another folder was passed over.
“This one contains the suspected actual identities of the Kindred that the Herald on his list of covers for businesses and accounts. With much of Ballard’s client files being on the private servers that went up it’s been hard to track them down but I’ve managed to do some with what was recovered even though I’m not nearly as skilled as the Confluence was as a hacker but it’s been a side hobby. Which here is everything recovered from the Justicar’s laptop as well as cellphone records,” Roman explained as he piled another folder on the growing stack Amadeus was holding. “And I also have the final paperwork for that property you wanted as well have confirmed the transfer of the Tower into one of Micah’s accounts—all untraceable of course.”
Amadeus who stopped and just stared at Roman for a moment before he started laughing.
Roman stared at him like he had just lost his mind.
The other raised his finger to give him a moment before he explained why he was laughing. “You’ve done more work and uncovered more in a couple of weeks than my Hounds did with several months to work with.”
To which Roman just shrugged a shoulder. “Endless nights and a large supply of caffeinated blood.”
“Want a job?”
“What job?”
“Mine. Hear me out before you say no,” Amadeus pointed out there before he went on with what he was thinking.
It may have still have been early in the night, but Julian could feel the fact that his mind was going to be shutting down on him soon. He had been pushing it again but at least knowing it was about to shut down on him was better than him pushing it until he shattered completely. It was a lot easier to deal with a shut down that fell somewhere between sleep and a torpor while his mind rebooted itself then super gluing everything back together—again.
He was learning.
It had him seeking out Micah’s office. He tapped on the door and didn’t wait for an answer before he slipped inside of it. His eyes quickly sought out Micah and here he did wait as he looked at the new Prince.
“Have ten minutes?” It was clear from the strain and dull look in the Malkavian’s eyes that he wasn’t there for business.
Micah didn’t have to look up to hear the exhaustion in Julian’s voice. Julian, when he was like this, exuded a bleakness and disquiet that Micah could always pick up. Whether it was the close proximity and duration they’d spent together all this time that afforded Micah his own brand of telepathic connection to the Malkavian or something else entirely altogether, the fact remained that Micah knew. And he paused in the middle of going through the inch thick file Roman had handed to him earlier in order to beckon Julian with a look, turning slightly so he was angled toward Julian, not away, his posture relaxed and open.
“Of course.”
Julian crossed the rest of the way to Micah and leaned down to kiss him slowly, just wanting the lingering feel of his lips and the taste of him as he managed to slip onto Micah’s lap. No matter what or where Micah was sitting, Julian had the uncanny ability to manage to fit into his lap like a determined cat. It probably had more to do with Kindred reflexes and not any yoga he tried in the past to clear his mind.
“Hi,” he murmured against Micah’s lips before laying his head over on his shoulder. “Are you down to just busy work the rest of the night? Is it okay to take the couch?”
He could have had one of the driver’s take him home but he wasn’t sure he’d manage to stay awake that long and he felt more secure with Micah nearby anyway.
Micah threaded his fingers through that soft, blond hair against his shoulder, completely unperturbed at the size of a grown man of Julian’s size making himself comfortable on his lap. If anyone had pointed out that this was something he would do on a regular basis a year ago, he would have pegged them for the crazyhouse. But yet here he was, here Julian was.
He was still reading the document he had in his hand, but his attention was clearly on Julian as he said, “I’ve got time. What’s on your mind?”
"Everything. Nothing. Too much." The jumble of a Malkavian's mind on the brink. He knew there was something he meant to tell Micah but it would come back to him. Hopefully it would do so before he shut down and fell asleep.
It didn't help that hunger beat at him as well. Since the incident with the blood, he really had only been drinking from Micah and skipping kine blood completely in between. Which had him sleepy nuzzling Micah’s jaw right now. "Can you afford for me to drink now? I can wait." Until after he shut down, but the hunger would be worse then.
It wasn't ideal. This was his office, a place where he was meant to hold absolute authority over. Not a public place meant for feeding. But if Micah could count on one hand the number of times he had bent his own rules for Julian, they wouldn't be where they were now.
He could sense, even through the quiet, muted mood Julian was in, the level of unease that lurked beneath the surface, something that heightened with a lack of proper feeding. It was something that he didn't necessarily care for. "How long haven't you fed?" His tone carried a note of disapproval. But he was already lifting his wrist to Julian's lips.
It was clear from the long look that Julian gave Micah that he was having to think about that answer and was having trouble answering it. "When was the last time you fed me," he finally asked as way of answer in return.
The fact that Julian even had to ask that as an answer spoke much more loudly than if he had actually had an exact answer.
He gave up focus on it before he cut Micah’s wrist open with a fang and drank.
Micah barely winced. It wasn't rare now for Julian to drink directly from the vein. As Kindred, they preferred it. But the implications had always prevented it becoming a common occurrence. Now though, Micah was far more concerned about the fact that Julian was only drinking from him.
It had been an issue that Julian had mentioned before: his fixation with Kindred and only Kindred blood. It was what had tied him down to Dorian so completely. But it was also less than ideal. Micah was often occupied, caught up in more and more responsibilities that he had now as prince. The idea of Julian weak and vulnerable was not something he wanted occuring on a regular basis.
He waited till Julian had taken his fill. "Listen to me. I don't care for you starving yourself like this. Do what you have to do. If that requires feeding from someone else, kine or kindred, do it. If it has to be me, do that too. Don't leave it to chance."
Julian laid his head back down on Micah's shoulder and sighed. Kine blood never satisfied him fully but took the edge off. He knew he was going to have to get over lingering hangs up he had after the poisoning. Especially given why the hunger was raising up more often.
"I know. And I'm not purposely starving myself. I'm just not used to using my abilities as much or as far and I'm not used to the new amounts of blood it burns to do so. Where that new limit is."
And with Julian so determined to help, to make use of those abilities in ways that he could, he was testing that limit more and more lately. Which wouldn’t be as bad if he was keeping up with the amount of blood needed. "I know you're even busier than before and I don't want to add to that."
Micah understood the things that Julian wasn’t saying as much as the ones that he chose to. And it was concerning. Micah relied on Julian for a lot of things, far more than he should have. But what could he do when their resources were so strapped already?
There was one thing he didn’t want to compromise, however, and that was Julian himself.
He tucked the strands of Julian’s hair behind one ear. “We have to find something that works. Compromising you is not an option.”
"Mmm," came the noncommittal sound from Julian as he closed his eyes. Micah’s blood was helping but his mind still felt stretched and about to shut down. He should probably get off of Micah’s lap and at least go lay down on the couch.
Then he recalled what he had learned earlier.
"There’s Lasombra in the city," he pointed out, not opening his eyes back up.
The Lasombra were not a bunch that inspired great confidence or trust in Micah, for good reason. To learn that there were some in the city now, in his city, brought an immediate frown to his face.
He kept Julian in that position he was in, but scooped the man up in his arms, one under his knees, the other firmly around his back, then stood up and brought them both to the couch, where he laid Julian down gently, his head pillowing on Micah’s lap. “What could they possibly be here for?”
The city would take awhile to rebuild, and in the ashes of what they once were, what could the Lasombra possibly be looking for? Nothing good, that was for sure.
A soft sigh came from Julian over the fact that Micah stayed with him on the couch instead of just leaving him there. Especially as he slipped farther and farther away. He was still with it enough for it to spark in his brain for a moment about how wrong he had been the other night in worrying that things might change now.
"Don't know yet. But I was there when they petitioned in Chicago to join the Camarilla."
But many still didn’t trust them, not with their strong Sabbat roots that they claimed to have broken from.
Micah was quiet for awhile, sensing the frustration and the exhaustion in Julian without even having to be Mlakavian. The blood had done something to relieve the lines of tiredness in his face, but there was a deeper weariness that would only grow as Julian took on more, added more to his mantle. And that—Micah battled with the needs of the city and his own need to keep Julian out of it everyday.
So far, the city was winning.
“I’ll send someone to check it out. For now, you should rest.” If he could take this off Julian’s hands, that was at least one thing that he could unload for the younger Kindred. One tiny step at a time.
Julian did not have to be told twice. Not when he was already falling into a torpor like sleep, the Malkavian’s mind having reached its limit and shut down on him.
Hands full of paperwork and files that Amadeus didn’t really want to have to sit down and read, he decided to dump them off in his office to take home later with him and deal with. He had other things to do before beginning that mind numbing task. The last thing he had expected to walk in on though was a rather large raven on top of his new desk rearranging his pens and about to reach out for the paperclips to do who knows what with.
“Don’t even do it.”
Rook’s foot twitched and inched closer to the paperclips in question.
“You do it and we remove all the perches we installed.” Including the one that stood in Amadeus’ own office. Julian doing no doubt. They were never going to convince Rook to come out of his raven form at this rate.
Amadeus sat the files on his desk and pointed a finger at Rook. “The paperclips better still be on all of these when I come back for them.” He wasn’t surprised when Rook just stared back at him. The moment he left the room the raven’s foot snatched up the loose paperclip it had been inching towards.
Amadeus may not have teleported into Micah’s office but he still held an unhealthy disrespect for doors and the door to Micah’s office proceeded to open before the Sheriff came through it a second later.
“You have got to talk to Julian about us treating Rook like we’re the Tower of London and he's the new raven of it,” he informed the new prince of the city as he entered. It was only then that he noticed the baby Malkavian in question asleep on the couch. It was something he had noticed happen a time or two whenever he’d pop into the safehouse so he wasn’t too surprised about it now. Nor did he comment on it.
It didn’t stop him from helping himself to the chair across from Micah’s desk. “Seriously, we’re never going to get the Gangrel to shift back at this rate.”
Micah barely looked up. There was only one person in the entire city that would barge into a place like this unannounced and be equally unapologetic about it.
“Well come right on in, Amadeus.” Micah didn’t even have to sound long-suffering. It wouldn’t have an effect on Amadeus anyway. But as it was, his concern was less about Amadeus’ sudden appearance and more for the Malkavian lying on his couch. Amadeus could be a little animated, and Julian had just drifted off to sleep.
He spared a glance behind the Tremere instead, making sure that Julian hadn’t stirred. And only then lifted his glance to face the ex-Sheriff. “I hadn’t realised wayward Gangrels are something I need to be concerned with, but let me just add that on to the list of million things I need to get through today, shall I?” Micah didn’t even sound aggrieved anymore. Simply flat and sardonic.
Whatever had he been thinking when Amadeus proposed becoming the Prince? How did he ever think this was a good idea when he hadn’t even wanted the Primogen seat in the first place?
Amadeus caught the glance Micah gave behind him but otherwise didn't comment on it. Right now there held no reason to and there were other things to bring up instead. Like the wayward Gangrel. "You mean the fact that he's terrorizing my office is not reason enough to add him to your list of concerns?" The Tremere looked appalled at the idea before continuing.
Prompting only a slightly arched single brow from Micah and no further comment on the matter.
"He could be an asset if we could actually utilize him as such. He's unique for his clan." Even more so than Ariel had been. More useful certainly as a pair of eyes they could use. But only if they could get the information he'd learn from him. Amadeus had a feeling he'd make a better hound then the ones they had lost.
“Provided he is actually persuaded to return to his human form long enough for us to learn anything useful from him,” Micah pointed out. Which at this point, it would be anyone’s guess when Rook would ever feel amenable to being humanoid again.
Which brought Amadeus to one of the other reasons he had burged in. "Speaking of assets, I see Roman assaulted you with copies of his reports as well." Which considering the leaks and the SI breathing down their necks, providing them with hard copies and not emails had been smart.
Micah fought the urge to rub his temple at this. Using the term mountain of paperwork was not at all an exaggeration at this point. “I need to make him come up with summaries for this.” Which Micah was, of course, simply saying, because no way was he leaving anything up to chance at this point. Knowledge against their enemies was the only thing that would ensure their survival. And the city needed every bit of information they had right now.
"I feel like if you insist on that we'd end up not only with summaries but those little colored tabs marking each page to go along with them," Amadeus pointed out. The Toreador was certainly more thorough in his reports than the Tremere ever had been but then Lucian had been more than happy to hear a verbal version and then let Amadeus go on his way.
Which was probably just one of the many reasons why they were where they were now.
"What do you think of Roman taking over as sheriff? Then I can fully focus on seneschal and not be split in multiple directions." Not that it would totally relieve Amadeus since a good seneschal worked with the sheriff to ensure the safety of the city but it would help.
It was the first Micah had heard of Amadeus entertaining such an idea. And naturally, he couldn’t help but stare at the Tremere. It took several seconds before he picked up his papers again.
“You do realise that being seneschal is simply going to add to your paperwork, not reduce it.” Now that Amadeus was floating the idea to Micah, the Prince knew that it was likely Amadeus had already set his mind on it. What he couldn’t understand was the why of it all. Roman was capable, of that Micah had no doubt. But Sheriff was something Micah trusted Amadeus with completely. He didn’t see much reason to rock that boat unless Amadeus could come up with a compelling one.
"I would have thought you’d want me to suffer my own increase in paperwork given what I've helped get you into," Amadeus pointed out. Which was part of the reason for the suggestion. Not because he wanted more paperwork for him but because of what they had gotten into.
Of course it was also Micah’s own fault considering he refused to abandon the city.
"I'm stretched thin trying to help and act as advisor as well as sheriff with every new problem that comes up. And we sure as hell don't lack for a list of problems. It doesn't help that I'm out there alone now." The flippant attitude he had before drained away and one could actually see just how tired Tremere was. "We have too many enemies and not enough allies." All things Micah knew but Amadeus voiced anyway.
"And not enough people that we trust." Especially when trust among the Kindred did not come easily. "Besides, others may think twice about trying to kill you if they know they risk a Tremere replacing you." Of course anyone thinking of harming Micah had to make it pass hiding such thoughts from Julian with how closely he scanned anyone who came near the new prince.
Amadeus sighed and not dramatically for once. "Of course, you are the one with final say on any of it."
Micah could see the sense of it, now that Amadeus was putting it this way. But it wasn’t a position Micah would have forced upon the Tremere, given how much he knew Amadeus hated bureaucratic red tape. And yet, he could think of no one who would fulfill the role better.
“It’s your paperwork to write,” Micah pointed out. But the words were softened by a conciliatory smile, just the slightest lifting of the corners of Micah’s lips in a tired but appreciative grin. It didn’t escape his notice that Amadeus had been nothing short of a rock by his side through all of this. It only constantly surprised him each day that Amadeus was still here.
And speaking of.
“You want it, it’s yours. Same with Roman. You can do the honors and let him know. Or if we want a formal initiation ceremony, that can be arranged too.” But that wasn’t all he had to say on the matter, especially now that Amadeus had brought it up. “Speaking of more permanent arrangements. Don’t think it has escaped my notice that a rather prominent Count from Boston has arrived in our city.”
“Notice that did you? Well, we did kind of get one of their delegates blown up.” Not that was what brought the count in question to the city. It just meant that sooner or later they would have sent someone to see what happened. It didn’t mean they still wouldn’t. Though now that they did have two of Boston’s own, Roman and Liam, the odds of them sending more were unlikely. It just left them with Chicago to deal with.
Amadeus gave a wry smile. “I was getting to that. Like I said, we have an endless list of things to deal with.” And maybe the Tremere had needed to know just where he stood before making his next suggestion. “He’d be a great asset in helping rebuild the city in terms of political influence and power but as it stands he thinks New York is a lost cause. And while I am good in bed, I’m not that good.”
Not when he and Liam were still working through their issues and figuring out where they stood. Given their past, Amadues wasn't fool enough to expect Liam to give everything up and stay for love alone. Especially not when he above others best understood his way of thinking. “But he is just a count in Boston. An offer of more might be an added incentive. I hear the Duke of Yorkville is open.”
Micah looked plainly at Amadeus, letting his lack of words speak for itself. There were so many things he could have said, wanted to say, not the least of which was something along the lines of really, you're gonna go there?
But gracefully, like the prince he was supposed to be, he settled for, "I can't have an unknown entity in the city, Amadeus." It was too risky. The city was too wrecked to take much more upheaval. And someone like Liam was definitely a wild card as far as Micah was concerned. He gave Amadeus a proper speculative look. "If you find a way to secure his support, whatever your methods, I say do it. And whatever position you have to offer him is frankly quite open for discussion."
“Oh I have several positions to offer him,” Amadeus quipped, not able to let that one pass him by even while trying to be serious about the matter. Still, he lapsed into silence after and stared back at Micah knowing where he was coming from. If it was anyone else then Amadeus would be thinking the same.
And if Micah had voiced his concerns aloud—Amadeus wouldn’t have been able to refute any of them.
Amadeus glanced back behind him at the Malkavian asleep on the prince’s couch and then looked back at Micah with a pointed looked. “In two centuries, even if he is no longer by your side, you will still remember what his kiss tastes like,” the Tremere said quietly. “And when things are exploding around you, you’ll realize that he should have still been by your side. That’s why I asked if you thought of him when it happened. That’s why a count from Boston is here. I’ll see what I can do to secure his position.”
Micah looked at Amadeus in a new light, the weight of the words said not lost on him. He had suspected, some time in the period when Amadeus fell so quickly for that Gangrel hound of his and lost him just as quickly too, that there was a lot more to the story than the Tremere was letting on. But theirs was a partnership of trust and don’t ask, don’t tell. Micah only listened to whatever Amadeus was comfortable revealing—an arrangement that had clearly worked for them so far.
But this new information did bolster and complicate things simultaneously.
“You do that.” Micah said, agreeably. There was little sense in telling Amadeus what to do. Not where affairs of the heart were concerned. That was simply something the two elders would have to figure out on their own.
He stood up, however, giving up all pretense of focusing on paperwork and circling around to the side of the table Amadeus was at. “The way I see it, two centuries on and he’s here. That has to count for something.” He clapped Amadeus on the shoulder. “Just don’t let yourself do regrets again. I don’t think that’s your style.”
Amadeus licked away blood off of Liam’s lips while they laid tangled up in bed together. So many of the Tremere saw their inability to create and maintain a blood bond as a curse, but he saw it as a boon. He had never seen a need for them before—had broken his own with pyramid long before it fell—and could only see it as a good thing. It left him and Liam free to bite and take from each other freely without worry of any consequences.
"I really do have things to discuss. I wasn't just saying that to lure you into bed again."
Though there was something to be said for a bit of stress relief before getting to business. Easily after the day so far.
Liam's fingers were tracing lazy circles against Amadeus' shoulder. Their proximity was an intoxicating experience, always had been. But the fact that he could hold the other close again when he had thought Amadeus lost to him forever for the longest time was something that still didn't quite feel real. He wasn't prone to bouts of melancholia, nor necessarily the sort for post-coitus clinging. But Amadeus was an exception--always had been.
So when he replied, he was understandably distracted, his mind a million places at once, in the typical fashion of a Malkavian. But this time, lacking the brittle, hard edge that he had always carried around with him. "And here I was thinking that you were going to make an honest man out of me." Eyes bright with an amused glint, walking the fine line of satisfied and playful.
“Well if that’s something you want that is an option we have now that we didn’t have then,” Amadeus pointed out, teasing back. Sometimes it was amazing the way things had changed. Back then they had to keep to hidden corners and closed doors but at least it was generally overlooked if you had a rather ‘close’ friend as long as you kept it under wraps. Not that they had been very good at that considering the risk they had taken—the times they had almost been caught, The thrill of it adding to the fire between them.
Amadeus ran his hand up over Liam’s chest. He didn’t think he was going to get enough of rememorizing every inch of the Malkavian—not that he had ever forgotten in the first place.
“I’ve rethought my proposition. About not asking you to stay in New York. I want you to. Stay here. By my side and help me not only push out the SI but in rebuilding the city.”
Liam’s fingers paused in the middle of a half-drawn circle, poised against the warmth of Amadeus’ skin. This was a vastly different tune to the one the Tremere had sung before. Not that Liam was complaining. It was simply—different.
He had been used to a casual nonchalance from Amadeus. Whether it was artificial—something Amadeus falsely kept up to guard his own emotions—or some other reason entirely, Liam didn’t hazard guesses. But for the longest time, he had been the one left adrift, chasing after dead clues for a man that hadn’t wanted to be found.
Now, he caught Amadeus’ hand in his own against his chest, stilling those fingers. “What are you saying?” Be clear. Because they were both too old to spend many more centuries running in empty circles. Liam had a life back in Boston, something he had carved out on his own. He could move, certainly. But at what cost? And for what reason? Uprooting a Kindred as old as Liam was not a small matter. But it was something he was more than willing to consider, for the right reasons.
Leaning his head forward, Amadeus kissed the fingers that held his in place before lifting his head and looking up at Liam, meeting his gaze. How had he thought he could go the rest of his unlife without this in it. Or to have tried replacing something that in the end hadn’t even been a pale imitation of what he had given up.
Amadeus has been a complete fool and he was more than willing to admit it a hundred times over if he had to.
“What I am saying is that we belong at each other's side and that I was a fool to ever think otherwise. And I need you are my side now to do this. It’s not just the great things we can build together once more, but that I don’t think I can do without you by my side again. Nor do I want to.”
He captured Liam’s lips in a lingering kiss. “Doing so is not the same without you there with me.”
The kiss felt bittersweet, mixed with the centuries of not knowing, of hoping and being proven wrong time and again as well as the flood of relief that coursed through him the moment he’d heard those words—I don’t think I can do without you by my side again. It released a tension inside Liam that he hadn’t known he had been carrying around, an anger at having been left behind all those years ago without a choice, without knowing why, believing that what they shared had been entirely him alone.
Liam’s arm snaked around Amadeus’ waist, keeping him close, their tongues tangling together, mapping out the taste of the Tremere and committing it to his memory. “I waited for you to ask,” Liam said, cutting himself open with honesty, laying his heart out for Amadeus. “All these years. I think I was always waiting.” There was an unnamed emotion here, giving Liam’s tone a slight hint of an unstable edge, almost a tremble.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t ever.”
Amadeus reached up and threaded his fingers through Liam’s hair as he pressed his forehead against his and took in that emotion that he found there in that gaze that met his. “I’m sorry—and I know those words are so very weak compared to what I owe you for what I did but never again. Never again will I leave you or want to be parted from you.”
All of it was on him and he was well aware of that. “I think I was afraid that you’d not want me back after what I did. It would only be right if you hadn’t. If you still didn’t.” Micah was right though. No more regrets. Amadeus couldn’t continue living like that. Liam—Ling—was here in his arms and still wanted him despite everything that lay in the past.
“Stay with me,” Amadeus murmured the request again as his mouth took possession of Liam’s once more.
Liam’s answer was a shaky exhale of breath, mixed with a long-awaited laugh of joy and relief. “Of course.”