[SOLO] In Too Deep (Konstantin)

[Kinu]

Konstantin sat upright abruptly out of a dead sleep, the room silent as dusk began to descend upon the city. He could hear the thoughts of people in the rooms around him and shook his head to clear the racket. His Auspex did that sometimes, leeched out and flooded him with invasive information, especially after a rough night. He pressed his palm to his forehead, closing his eyes until the noise faded and he could block it out appropriately. Some might enjoy hearing the intimate details of people's lives, their secrets, the way they really felt. To Konstantin it was just annoying. A lot of wishing, a lot of unfounded anxieties, a lot of not saying what they wanted to say.

He hated it. He didn't have to hear peoples thoughts to know that's what was likely rolling around in their heads. He gave a long stretch and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the hard, cool wood of the floor beneath him firmly. His gaze drifted to the file perched on the shelf across the way and his expression darkened a little, right. He needed to finish that up and turn it in. Tonight was a better night than any he supposed. He suddenly remembered the body in his bathroom and his eyes rolled to the ceiling. ********. Yeah. He needed to dispose of that too. The events of the evening before gnawed at him, clawing their way to the forefront of his mind. The reason that body was in his bathroom currently trying to get him to focus on it. To sit with it. He didn't have time for that s**t, he didnt want to think about it. He'd said once and that was it. It was only once. It would never happen again. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, chewing his guts like it was, there was nothing there. Nothing that mattered. Not to him and sure as s**t not to the head of the ORG. So why the hangup? He figured he just needed to process it.

He'd learned way too much about his own desires that both made a lot of sense and rattled his understanding of himself in a way he hadn't been prepared to deal with last night. It was like being in the body of a stranger while, at the same time, reconnecting with a part of yourself you hadn't even realized you'd been disconnected from in the first place. He groaned as he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing a pair of black leather pants to slip into, pulling the zipper up and buttoning them while his green eyes focused on the folder. He had a lead that was... well, it was going to be tricky to prove. But if he did... Konstantin sighed in a resigned manner. Normally the idea of chasing leads sent a thrill through him but tonight he felt unmotivated, distracted, but mostly he felt out of sorts. It rarely happened but given the events that had unfolded on his last trip to the ORG he wasn't really too surprised he was feeling off. Snagging a clean shirt he pulled it over his head, sliding it down across his toned, muscular frame, his necklaces swaying lazily around his neck. Where the ******** was his jacket at?

He spotted it tossed haphazardly over a chair and lifted it but froze in place abruptly, holding it out away from his body while his gaze fell to the object, expression almost unreadable. An all too familiar scent flooding his senses. Damnit. Rolling his eyes he threw it on anyway. It would air out, meanwhile he'd just ignore the smell. Ignore what it stirred up and the memories now etched into his mind of the night before. It took him no time at all to handle the clean up in his bathroom, he'd had plenty of practice, especially given his family and their penchant for dabbling with the dead. Konstantin snagged a velvet, drawstring bag off one of his shelves which he shoved inside his jacket pocket, hitting the street he pulled the collar of his jacket up high and let his vibrant green gaze rove over the few kats out and about. It wasn't late enough to be crowded yet, the evening being so young, but he wasn't headed into town anyway, he was headed beneath it.

The entrance to the sewers was simple enough to find if you knew what you were looking for. He descended into the darkness, the striking difference in temperature throwing him off for a second, it was always damp down here and slightly suffocating. He hated that feeling. The humidity made it disgusting to even step foot in but he at least knew where he was going, at least he didn't have to spend a long time hunting for his first contact of the night. The way the Nosferatu tunnel system changed from time to time was a mystery but it was highly effective in keeping out the riffraff, it mostly happened after an undesirable found their way into the keep either purposefully or by accident, though sometimes the Nos got a wild hair and changed it just for shits and giggles. He didn't question their methods. They were effective. It was a maze down here, twists and turns and dead ends, but if you knew where to look there were secret entrances that bypassed the rat race entirely. If they were blocked off it meant the Nos had sealed them and opened a new one elsewhere. Lucky for him the one he'd used last time was still open.

As he slipped between a slim crack in a wall, so subtle and at such an angle it was practically invisible unless pointed out to the casual observer, it led him down a long narrow passage and deposited him into a huge opening. The space was like a domed cathedral made of old moss covered grey stone blocks, vines hanging from various points and cascading down to the water below. Woven throughout were the remnants of discarded items like a large threate marquee stuck into the wall, jutting out with the lights ablaze, there was also the front of a large store complete with a window melted into the same wall, its sign long faded by age.

Random statues that obviously, at one point, had been in a museum were now forever entombed here among the other various oddities and curiosities lining the stone to create a chaotic scene highlighting the bizarre and awe inspiring. The path he stood on hugged the wall, only extending about a foot on either side of where he'd emerged before it dropped off abruptly, dark jade water filling the center of the room. Sprawled out over the water was a hodgepodge of thrown together rickety paths made from various sheets of metal, wood, whatever was strong enough to hold weight. It stretched this way and that to connect a hive of tunnels to the main path. While it never felt completely stable he'd never seen anyone fall nor had it given beneath him the few times he'd come here.

 

[Kinu]

A light flickered in one of the tunnels and his eyes darted to catch any details before it vanished. He'd been spotted, probably the moment he set foot in the tunnles to be honest. They always knew when someone was in their territory. The Nos took anyone setting foot on their turf seriously, it didn't matter that he wasn't an enemy, he wasn't a Nos either. It also didn't matter how close you were to them or how long you'd had a professional relationship with one. You'd always be an outsider. That was fine with him. He wasnt looking for friends and so long as he got what he needed he was happy to stay above ground and out of their business. He stepped across the maze of platforms and made it to the tunnel where he'd seen the brief glow without incident, once inside it was pitch black again but he could easily see in the dark in order to navigate through. The illumination from the various lanterns, mismatched fixtures and Hearts Glow lights strung about behind him soon fading, swallowing him in darkness. The tunnel ejected him into a room of sorts, it was like a lounge, or what hoped to pass as a lounge, dark and gloomy, lit by torchlight alone. The Nosferatu that had signaled him leaned against the wall with his arms over his chest, his one good eye which was a brilliant blue fixed on Konstantin, the moment the Koenig was fully inside he gave a low, gravelly chuckle and pushed off the wall to approach a few steps, stopping again well out of reach.

He didn't appear worried, considering his age he didn't have much to really worry about, but he also didn't take unnecessary risks. The clans were about as stable as a powder keg with a Malkavian holding the match near the fuse. You never knew what you were walking in on at any given time in any situation, unless you were a Nos, though even Dirge had been surprised a couple times in his unlife. Real surprised. The Elder tried to avoid those if he could help it. Surprises were usually bad. He tapped his sewn eye and pointed at Konstantin, that laughter followed by words in the same gravelly tone seemed everywhere and nowhere all at once as it bounced around the walls. "Hey there sunshine, you look ******** up. Bad night?" He grinned, his good eye shimmering while he watched the Koenig's face. Even though Konstantin knew there was no way the Nos knew what had happened he still involuntarily flinched. The Elder chuckled, arms crossing over his chest again, leaning his weight back on one leg. "Ooch, good guess, hmm? Well, let's see if we can turn that frown upside-down. I've got what you requested and booooooy is it a doozy. You sure you wanna mess with this kid? This is heavy s**t." Konstantin was currently giving him a dry look that said he wasn't interested in his opinion. The Nos chuckled again, exhaling and giving a shrug before he turned towards the wall, leaning out to smack his fist against a stone which slid back. He pulled a thin file and the stone slid into place once more.

As he handed it over and Konstantin wrapped his fingers around it to grab it, tugging back he found resistance, the Nos wasn't letting go. "Want some free advice?" The Koenig's brows furrowed, he didn't. Dirge smirked, getting the message but not letting go of the envelope just yet. "Look, it doesn't really matter to me if you get killed over this but I like you kid. You aren't stupid, you don't talk too much, and you aren't full of s**t. Plus you always pay well. My advice? Don't look. Just give this to your employer and let it go. Do yourself a favor." He released the file, the grin on his face anything but friendly. Konstantin didn't break his focus, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the other vampire. If the warning concerned him he didn't let it show, but his curiosity was definitely aroused. What the hell could be that bad? "I'll keep that in mind." The Neonate replied dryly. Dirge held out his hand palm up, giving the other male a wink, or just blinking, it was hard to tell. Konstantin lifted the velvet bag out of his jacket and popped it into the waiting palm of the other vampire, gnarled claws curled around the fabric and a very pleased smile broke out across the face of the older creature, soon turning into a rather wicked grin. "The other info is waiting back at your apartment, check the usual spot. See you around, Neonate. Maybe." Dirge laughed, the sound unnerving as he stepped back into the shadows and vanished from sight.

Dealing with the Nos was probably the best way to get important, hard to obtain info fast but the price was steep. Very steep. That little trinket he'd handed over had taken him months to procure and he'd been holding onto it for a while for an occasion like this. When he needed expensive info fast. Konstantin kept an iron grip on the folder in his hand, it felt a little on the thin side for being so ominous. He slid it into his jacket and headed out the way he'd come, the eerie silence surrounding making him feel even more like he was being watched. He likely was. As he hit the fresh air above ground he whispered a silent prayer of gratitude, ******** it stunk down there. He was going to need another shower. Maybe bleach himself. When he got back to his apartment he checked a small sliver of a panel hidden in the entryway beside the mailboxes and pulled another envelope, this one thicker. Good. At least he had a shot at not feeling like he'd wasted an extremely valuable object on something less meaty.

With both envelopes in his possession he ascended the stairs and made it back to his room. He needed to get this offensive smell off his body, it was cloying, repugnant. At least the other scent was gone now. He felt strange once he realized, not sad or disappointed, just... strange. It was hard to describe, like he didnt know how he felt about it. Stripping down he spent a long time beneath the hot water, letting it soak him to the bone, letting it burn his skin. He scrubbed and scrubbed until every last bit of offending scent was thoroughly gone, replaced by his own clean smelling soap. He ran a towel over his body and hair before securing it at the waist and exiting the bathroom, ******** he felt better. His clothes also got a wash, no way he was putting his jacket back on when it reeked like that. Waiting on the laundry would give him time to put the entire file together anyway. He grabbed the packet he already had, along with the two new ones, and tossed them all on the bed. Sliding onto the mattress he sat cross legged, still towel clad, the muscles of his abdomen and sides flexing as he leaned over to begin examining what he had for the ORG.

The chains and black inverted cross around his neck dangled while he went to work, but he ignored them, he also ignored the memory of them biting into his neck sharply as it surfaced. ******** that. His fingers raised to stop them, claws tangling into the metal until they stopped moving. He had to keep focused, his attention needed to he on everything he'd managed to pull together, either by his own investigation or from sources. He didn't have time to think about... that. He opened the thicker file from the Nos first, the one that had been waiting for him at his apartment. As the contents slid out his eyebrows raised incredulously and he gave a sharp exhale through his nose. ********. There were photos, letters, a drawing of the object Amadeo had picked up from the shop Konstantin had directed Raf to, and a thick notebook which accompanied the drawing. It appeared to have vague notes and partial instructions, some of it written in Italian, some in english, it was old. Very old. From what he could gather it looked like an object that aided an individual in opening a portal into Oblivion, even allowing them to step through and retrieved something without needing to know the Discipline itself.  

[Kinu]

He wasn't extremely well versed in Oblivion, or Necromancy for that matter, but he felt that the importance of this objects abilities was.... sizeable. He hadn't expected to get this much information on it, truth be told he expected more about Acheron, the young vampire he'd met at the Giovanni family dinner, the outsider, but there was less about the kid and more about whatever it was the Methuselah had been searching for instead. Much more. The journal went on, written in conflicting dialects before changing completely, the entire last half written in Latin. Well, that's where his interpreting skills stopped dead. Latin was not a strong point for the Koenig. He snapped the book shut and rewound it with the leather binding. The question persisted. What was Amadeo doing?

Setting it aside he put together the rest of the intel, flipping open his own work to piece everything together coherently. His eyes drifted to the sealed document and his hands stopped, slowly he started to reach for it. As he picked it up and began to slide a claw under the seal he stopped again, hesitated. 'Do yourself a favor...' Did it really matter if he knew what was in here? Did he really need to know? He fidgeted with his lip ring, mulling over the reasons for and against, in the end he decided he didn't need to know. With a sigh of resignation he ran his fingers through his hair, giving his lithe torso a stretch. Whatever was in here was apparently above his pay grade. He slipped it beneath the rest of the intel and closed the file, he'd let the ORG deal with it.

As he leaned over to grab a laundry basket he heard a sound from the hallway, something strange. His eyes slid to the door, arm lowering the basket onto the bed as he silently slid his legs over the edge and stood up. The hell was that? It was footsteps. The first sound anyway. The Koenig activated his Ancestor's Vigilance, choosing to heighten his hearing, any wraiths in the area instantly becoming visible to him if cloaked. He heard a voice, almost a whisper speaking to someone else down in the entryway. "He came in here. Yes, I'm certain. I don't know which one, they're looking." Using the peephole he glanced out into the hallway quickly, his hand reaching behind the bookshelf to lift a knife, but he saw only the backs of two large Baddies as they left. Apparently they'd been sent to see if they could find out which apartment was his. Obviously they had failed to do so.

The faces of the others waiting in the lobby he couldn't see, they never came up. As he heard the front door open and close, silence descended on the complex once again. He licked his lips and leaned back from the peephole but another sound caught his attention, somehow this felt far different, unrelated to what had just transpired, how he knew that he wasn't sure. Leaning forward again, his eye hovering inches from the peephole he saw her. Amadeo's wraith. She stood, staring up at his door with her empty sockets for eyes, her mouth splitting into a wide grin, hands locked behind her back. She giggled, the sound ethereal as it echoed through his door and assaulted his senses. But suddenly the giggles turned to full blown screams, her mouth falling open wide, splitting at the sides, the sockets where her eyes should have been sinking deeper, growing darker while an inky wispy substance ebbed and flowed from within them. The intel on his bed flipped open, pages shooting up into the air and scattering about the room in a violent cascade. As he turned to look at what was happening the screaming suddenly stopped. She was gone when he looked back, the hallway empty and silent.

What. The. ********. Was. That. About. The Neonate realized he was holding the knife so tightly his knuckles had turned white, relaxing his grip he raised his free hand, rubbing his eyes. He needed a vacation. The sight of the mess pissed him off but he spotted something he hadn't seen before. It was a picture of Amadeo holding a little girl in his arms. The picture was old, faded, the little girl smiling up at the camera with big, beautiful eyes as Amadeo smiled at her. He leaned down to pick it up off the floor and turn it over. On the back, in elegant hand-writing were the words 'Amadeo and Isabella Giovanni'. He tried to find any marks, any other writing, but there was nothing. As he put the intel back together again the photo of Amadeo lay on the mattress beside it, he reached for it to place it with the rest when he heard the soft faint whisper of crying, like a child's cry.

A shiver slid down his spine, his body frozen until it faded completely. Lifting the picture to take a final look he began to slide it into the folder, but then stopped halfway. Pulling it back out his brows furrowed. What was it about this image? Something told him not to hand it over, to keep it. Instead of returning it to the file he opened the drawer of his nightstand and slipped it in. Making a mental note to look into it later. He'd never heard of Isabella Giovanni, at least not in relation to Amadeo, in fact he couldn't recall the Giovanni having any immediate family aside from his fringe relations to the main Estate. The nagging feeling again, like there was more to what was going on, hit him hard. He needed answers. But first his ******** laundry. With the file cleaned up and sorted again he grabbed the basket to unload the dryer, pulling everything out so he could finally get dressed. He hadn't been looking forward to a fight in his goddamn towel, not exactly the best choice to throw down in.

Grabbing the file he headed for the door, slipping the knife into his boot and taking the side entrance that let out into the alley. If he was being watched he wasn't going to make it easy on them. He needed to get this information to Rafaele before any other weird s**t happened. This was getting strange, he definitely felt like he had stepped in something deeper than just this business with Acheron, but what he had no idea.