[Josée's Note: Following the prequel game, Ceinwyn sought out her ex-boss, and old friend.]
Bittersweet Reunions
Ceinwyn writes in her diary about the evening she was reunited with her former boss.
The past few days began as they meant to continue. I went to feed and apparently, no-one was around. I was forced to prey on a couple of drunk chavs near the pier. Ugh. After I'd had my fill, I decided to help Darwin out a little and place the idiot (now sleeping) close to the sea and see whether or not he ever appeared again. I didn't get quite as far as I liked as I must've passed out. Cain was sitting in an office, and we had a lengthy discussion. Apparently...he's in my head, he's only ever around because I want him to be, and he was the person who gave me all the information about Kray when I was a kine.
He kept asking if I had a plan, and I kept replying that if he was in my head, he knew what my plan was. He did have a point though, when he finally admitted he knew what I was about to do. I was going to go see Boyd...I knew I had to. But he reminded me that I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there. After much talking and little resolution, I walked away. But he wasn't willing to let me leave that easily. He mentioned (purely to aggravate and frustrate me, probably) that I looked a lot like my mother.
I ignored it for the most part. I can talk to him about that later if needs be. I returned to the house (after checking the drunkard was well and truly likely to get wet, possibly fatally) and we decided to head to London. Leo had his reasons, Angus had his, and I had mine. Christopher, his equipment and Talon went in the limo, while all the rest of us headed to London in the car. I fell asleep for part of the journey - the alcohol in the blood I drank was playing havoc with me - and I awoke to find us parked up with Angus helping some random guy fix his car in the pouring rain.
I got out to help, and we found the car beyond repair. Angus and Leo offered him a lift, and so we set off again, just to the next town. Everything went well until Leo tried feeding from him and got hurt. I played dumb - trying to act as the only sane one in the car, and this was needed when Leo pulled his sword out...
So it was a shame that my first attempt to console the man relied on me not pointing to anywhere risky like..a forest. Eventually, I got him to walk off alone with me. I was going to try to ghoul him once he was a little less spooked, but Angus put paid to that. He kneecapped the poor guy, and then Leo began calling the shots. Apologising softly to the agonised, frightened man, I held him as the other two...did what was "necessary". He was terrified...I don't know why I didn't stop Leo, but...I let it happen, and eventually the guy was killed, his head severed from his shoulders by Leo. He began reeling off numbers before it occurred, and the ticking noise that had been playing in my mind for hours reached an almost painful crescendo.
I just about recall Angus pulling me away from the body, and all of us jumping in the car and driving off. When we passed the place the body should have been...there was nothing there. Nothing at all. We all believe it was a Promethean...but I guess we'll never know.
We eventually got to London and Angus dropped me off near Boyd's familial home...or at least what had once been the familial home. I knocked on the door, and a gaunt, haggard face appeared from behind the chained door. They told me that no-one by that name lived there and that they had no forwarding address. I sighed and walked away...but something made me take another look at the house. It looked like the man had locked himself away, and was living in almost total darkness. Something should have screamed "Kindred" at me...but that alarm bell didn't ring. The one that did was the one relating to Boyd's alcoholism and loss of his family. So I knocked once more. He asked who I was, and I...against my better judgement...told him I was, indeed, Ceri.
He accused me of playing a sick, cruel joke...and that Ceri was dead. If that wasn't proof it was Boyd, I don't know what was. The terms he used made it sound like...there was real pain there...real...loss. I felt a pang of guilt, and I found myself reeling off the circumstances of my disappearance - Rachel's body in the living room, a pile of ash in the kitchen with a knife. I found myself explaining that I knew all I was saying could have come from teh newspapers of the time...but that that was all I had to convince him that I spoke the truth. He asked me to leave. With heavy heart, I withdrew my foot from the door, and then told him I would sit outside for ten minutes and then leave him in peace, and that I would only be in London for a few days. I heard the lock click into place as I turned away, and...feeling alone and saddened that he had been so unwilling to talk, I doubted he'd take the chance to speak with me.
But...I have been wrong about Kyle Boyd before, and apparently this was a time I could add to that list. I heard the door open, and as I turned to face him, he was standing there, alone...looking smaller than I've ever seen him look before, and it was sad to see him looking nothing like the strong, determined leader I had known him as. But it was his words that shook me more.
He asked me to tell him he was right to disbelieve the papers. They had reported that since my prints were on the weapon used to kill Rachel, and that I had disappeared, that I had killed her myself. Not an unreasonable logical conclusion, but one that would obviously rattle anyone who had known me, and risk destroying any opinion of me. The term "murderer" can sully any name, no matter how celebrated or important. I told him he was, and this seemed to settle him. I was invited inside, and seeing the state of the house he resided in made me feel even more sorry for him. He seemed to have given up, and let the world move around him while he just sunk into oblivion.
We sat and spoke for some time. I could feel the need to tell him what I was, or to tell him I would stay with him. I didn't want to leave him alone again...not this time...but I could feel it...that little voice in the back of my head that kept me from doing stupid things. It told me that I couldn't stay - my way of living would spark suspicion and concern, and no doubt he'd figure it out soon enough. He himself believed I was on the run, so I couldn't stay for that reason...but I fear for him, diary...I really, really do.
He told me my old house had been searched and mobbed by Kray's people. He didn't seem shocked...nor pleased...nor disappointed when I told him Kray was dead. If anything...it seemed like whatever had kept him going had been stolen from him, and it was due to me. I gave him a hug, and we sat there together for some time. I didn't want to stop, diary. I know it's stupid, and I know it's impossible...but I wanted to stay with him. I honestly thought about leaving the others, and staying with him...making things right in some small way. Making sure he was safe, and well...and know he was loved.
When he told me he would look after himself, and take care...I didn't believe him. Seeing the way he was living...it frightened me. Something tells me that that won't change. Something tells me that if I were to return in a month or so...nothing would have changed...and it hurts to know that part of that is due to me.
I left, and as I walked...I had this...stupid thought, I took a deep breath and flew. I was in tears. I...I decided to go home. I wanted to see what had really occurred there. The key was in its usual place, but when I went to open the door, I found the lock had been picked. Inside, it was a bomb site. Papers lay strewn everywhere, and every piece of furniture had been turned upside down. whoever had been searching had obviously been thorough. No wonder Boyd had chosen to leave it to rot rather than take it on. I was just glad that any papers I did have were taken with me to Canterbury, though that in itself posed some issues.
There were noises upstairs. Someone was apparently still rummaging. I crept up the stairs and pulled my gun out. It turned out to be that the Lancea Sanctum had decided to send out someone to "eliminate" me because I had defected. He was too quick for me, and he had hold of my wrist with my ritual knife before I could do anything. Shooting him did nothing, and it was only when I bit him that he let me go. I grabbed my knife and flew, my heart in my mouth.
Angus rang me, and we met at the Science Museum. I could have bowled him over if I had run into him with much more force, and for once I didn't give a damn who the hell it was, I just wanted a hug. Talon could have been standing there and I'd have given him the warmest embrace imaginable - that's how much I needed a hug - and I'm being deathly serious.
Angus, after hearing my situation, told me he had arranged a few things, and it was agreed that I'd be needed to help get the assassin. Before that, Angus took me to the Mekhet Lore House, and found me a place to stay. I have no issue with telling you I hugged him once more, as the room I ended up staying in was exquisite.
As we stayed there, the ticking began again in earnest, and we went to find the source. We ended up meeting a man who told us it was all to do with the angels and the sound of creation itself. I have apparently been marked by the Creator, and I am "Chosen" (whoopee...) since I'm not a Mekhet, yet I can hear not just the ticking of time itself, but the static of creation without suffering the "sickness". Yay.
We slept, and then we met up with Leo. We briefly went through some of the things we had done, and then we all agreed to head to Norwich. It was also "agreed" that I wouldn't go off anywhere alone...but I think I might have to break that "agreement" before the night ends. Before I leave...I have to give Boyd a way of contacting me. I'm scared of what he might do...or not do...otherwise. I don't think he really wants to see me again...not yet, at least...but I have to let him know I'm here...I'm always here for him.
No comments:
Post a Comment