Newton Hello, I must be going...

[Wil Carter]

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Wil said softly to no one in particular. In fact, there wasn't anyone else around unless the Boss was in his office and was being very, very quiet, scary man. 'Enigmatic' might be a better description, but still. Outside, the rain continued to hammer the rooftops and tarmac with the occasional flash of lightning followed by a distant rumble. The thunder reminded him more of bowling than Thor swinging his hammer around in vengeance. Easthaven wasn't in the centre of the storm, but wet was wet and that's what he'd get if he headed home now.

His daily report had been entered into the system. His desk was in order. He lazily tapped his pencil on his thigh, lips pursed in thought, before he tucked his pencil behind one ear and pushed his chair back, deciding it was time for another journey of exploration through the old building. Maybe he would encounter someone else working here that he hadn't met yet and he could introduce himself. Maybe he would end up in another abandoned room like the last time he went for a wander. He smiled, remembering his conversation with Brooke and all that had followed.

Giving his head a shake, he chose the door he knew led to the basement and opened it to find... the stairs going to the basement. “Huh,” he said, and started down. Upon reaching the bottom after a reasonable length of time, he guessed this was a normal path and not like the last time, which had just been weird. Halls, doors, a nice arch into a room with a few people working at tables with equipment that looked like a cross between a crime lab and the domain of a mad scientist, all with the orderliness he would expect to find at a hidden government research facility, like Area 51 or something. It was a lot to cram into a room and it wasn't really that much like any of the things that came to mind, but there were elements that reminded him of these environments or how he imagined they would be.

One person at the far end of the room, a woman, he thought, looked up. She stood inside a small, transparent booth with what looked like a huge tome open on a table in front of her. She was head to toe in some sort of protective garment, complete with gloves and a visor that covered her face. Wil gave her a small smile and a nod. Deeming his presence was not critical, she returned to the tome. The others were sufficiently engrossed in their work that they didn't even pause. He wasn't expecting anyone to drop what they were doing to say 'hi', but now he wasn't sure what to do.

Oh-kay, he thought. I'll just... go over here... 'Over here' was a wall with an open door. He peeked into the office, saw it was occupied and wondered if he should say anything. Would the occupant appreciate an interruption? Wil shrugged.

“Hullo,” he said with a full-dimpled smile, hands in the pockets of his jeans, his blue, button-down shirt untucked and still clean despite having chili for lunch.

[Asphodel Malvolia]

Outfit

Asphodel could hear the gentle rumble of thunder through the brownstone's masonry. It was clearer to her than to the mortals in the building, but only in the sense that the titanic grumblings lasted longer, her senses dipping below human perception. Storms were a comfort, the dimness, and rainfall promising a kind of obscurity. Lovely conditions for a creature such as her.

Fortunately, she had no need to hide. In fact, the vampire was at work, enjoying the quiet night shift. She could hear people moving through the building from a few floors away, along with Clara's heartbeat in the clean room as she referenced several old tomes. She heard the approaching footsteps as well, accompanied by the man's heartbeat. They had an aimless or searching quality to them, but she paid it no mind beyond noting this.

Just inside the door, she was busy maneuvering with a toolbox and the thick roll of a tapestry. She had the old delicate piece of embroidery braced on her hip, but it sagged alarmingly. She was strong enough to carry both but she lacked enough hands. When the young man appeared in the doorway, offering her a handsome smile, Asphodel paused, blinking as she quickly took him in. She did not recognize him, but though his footsteps had meandered, he did look like he belonged here. That immediately made him useful.

“Oh, very good,” the vampire said, brisk and business-like. “Come here, then. Take this and carry it out to the workbench.”

[Wil Carter]

A very attractive blonde woman wearing a striking black dress with a long skirt noticed his arrival at her door and promptly requested assistance with one of the items she was trying to carry, though how she was managing to balance that much was unknown. It was more of an order than a request, but friendly enough and Wil took no issue with it.

Pleased to have something to do and be helpful at the same time, Wil crossed quickly to relieve the woman of the - carpet? - that drooped under one arm, lifting it to one of his shoulders with both hands.

“Got it,” he said, deciding it was a bit awkward but not very heavy. He turned carefully so he neither knocked over a lamp or anything else nor smacked the woman in the head with it, before walking out of the office. The nearest workbench was empty so he stopped there and carefully placed the item upon it.

[Asphodel Malvolia]

When he acquiesced, she favored him with a broad, charming smile--the kind of smile you'd see on a movie starlet from the golden age of Hollywood. He came close and she hefted the tapestry up into his arms, chiming a pleased “Thank you, darling.”

As he turned, she ducked under the tapestry and then flit after him, noting airily, “What a gentleman you are!”

[Wil Carter]

Her smile was dazzling and Wil felt glad he had stopped at her door. Assisting a beautiful woman was always a plus, especially on a dark and stormy night.

When she called him 'darling', a small smile tugged at his lips and upon being told he was a 'gentleman', the smile widened. He doubted their co-workers wouldn't have helped if they'd known she needed it, but it was nice to have the opportunity to make a good first impression.

Wil turned to her, gave a slight bow of his head and said, “Of course, m'lady.”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

Stepping up to the workbench, she grinned, charmed at the 'm'lady'. The phrasing of a peasant, she thought absently, but the modern world hardly divided itself like that anymore, with all this middle-class business these days. “So, you must be new around here,” she said conversationally, eyes flicking up to the man as she carefully started to unroll the tapestry. “I don't know your face.”

The light revealed a dusty, elaborate work of hand embroidery. It was old, crusted with dirt, and stained with mildew and age, but the subject matter was obvious: it depicted a disturbing scene of demon worship. Around the corners of the scene were runes, some faded, some with the threads torn out, but that was what Asphodel was after.

[Wil Carter]

His use of archaic terminology was unusual, perhaps, but Wil considered himself a gentleman, or capable of being one, and he felt words like 'm'lady' just added to such moments.

He watched attentively as the woman carefully handled the carpet. It was a bit of a mess and given the images depicted, was probably not a carpet as he'd previously thought. More like something that was hung on a castle wall to help keep out the draft.

“Yeah, I'm the new guy,” he said, eyes taking in the scene as it was revealed. He placed his left hand on the table as he bent closer, adding, “The rookie, I guess.” Wil's lips formed a small smile as he turned his head to look at the woman, right hand extended across his chest. “Wil Carter.”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

The vampire clasped Wil’s hand with a charming smile. Her hand was cool, though the basement archives were cool as well.

“Nice to meet you, Wil the rookie,” she said, relaxed and open although she wore the demeanor of a queen welcoming a new subject to her domain. “You may call me Asphodel.”

[Wil Carter]

“A pleasure,” he said. His skin was warm by comparison, but at least she didn't shake hands like a limp fish. Her phrasing was interesting and gave him the impression she was in charge.

“That's an unusual name. Greek, innit?” It sounded like a flower someone would arrange in a vase and place in the dining room.

Remembering to withdraw his hand, he set it on the edge table to match the position of his other hand, shoulders hunched, head bowed to study the tapestry more closely.

[Asphodel Malvolia]

“You've got the right of it,” the vampire replied with faint amusement, her gaze returning to the tapestry and its demonic tableau. “I suppose I’ve always liked the drama of it. On the other hand, I’ve been told it’s too much. What do you think?”

It was an odd thing to ask someone’s impression of one’s name but Asphodel liked the subject. She liked any topic that was about her.

The tapestry in front of them was your typical medieval tableau rendered in colored thread. The blood spilling from the sacrifice in the center was faded by now but from the way the victim’s face contorted, it was clear she was not having a good day.

[Wil Carter]

Wil shrugged again. “Sounds good to me. S'pretty. Some people think my name is too much, but it's Welsh and they complicate everything.” That was a joke and delivered as such, rather dryly, since he appreciated the Welsh and their culture but their language stumped many.

“So, this looks... unfortunate.” He nodded to the scene. “Do you know what the ritual is for? I don't have the knowledge to read those runes.”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

Asphodel lifted a curious eyebrow at the mention of his name being similarly overbearing. 'Will'? 'Wil'? It seemed simple enough to her until he mentioned the Welsh. She might not have guessed with his London accent. Gwilym, then? Tipping her head to one side, she conceded to this with a thoughtful nod. The difference then was that the vampire had picked her own name while she assumed his parents gave him his. He smelled and sounded like a mortal who likely had parents to do such a thing, in any case.

Regardless, he abruptly moved them on from the topic of names and the vampire turned her attention back to the tapestry before them. Fortunately for him, his questions were not dull.

“Well, it's high time you learned a thing or two, considering your new profession!” she replied, bright and smart as a school teacher. Gesturing to the whole thing, she noted, “What we have here is your bog-standard demonic ritual. Nasty, over-complicated business, bringing in additional entities to your magic, but I suppose they wanted that additional oomph. This is for...” She paused to scan the runes and their ugly shapes, before pointing to the one that noted the school. Death. An old favorite. “Necromancy. Looks like a life for a life sort of deal. Perhaps they are raising a corpse?”

She looked for a corpse somewhere in the tapestry, either in the stained threads or in the faded paints.

[Wil Carter]

Asphodel - which was a bit of a mouthful - proceeded to share her knowledge of demonic rituals and what the one depicted on the tapestry probably involved. He listened, his posture and expression attentive, since he was genuinely interested and the woman had a nice voice.

He decided not to interrupt to tell her he wasn't exactly new to this profession. That would just be rude.

“Ah, necromancy,” he murmured. “Everyone's favourite party trick, but not done lightly. Sacrificing someone for... someone very important...?” Wil scanned the scene for clues.

[Asphodel Malvolia]

The vampire snorted prettily at necromancy being a 'party trick'. She'd always liked a little bit of dry downplayed humor. Otherwise, she was quiet as they searched the tapestry. She was content to let the silence play out, although she did think through Wil's suggestion. Someone very important was a solid guess.

Finally, she tapped her fingernail down on a smudge of brown and a few telltale holes where the threads used to be. “There. I think it's... In the shape of a dog? Hm...” She made a thoughtful noise as she considered the rest of the tapestry. There didn't seem to be anything else at the center of the composition so... Was that their important figure? She'd heard of necromancers doing more for less so it didn't sound too far-fetched.

[Wil Carter]

Wil didn't mind the silence, either. They were both occupied trying to solve a puzzle, and though it was not his area of expertise, Asphodel seemed willing to let him explore.

When she pointed to a vague shape, Wil  leaned closer to the tapestry. He didn't touch it and wouldn't without gloves and whatever other precautions were necessary. Hands gripping the edge of the table, he let his face hover over the area for a few beats before pulling back.

“I think it is a dog, one of those racing kind,  but with bits missing near there...” He squinted. “Is that a sleeve...? Near the... head of the dog? That... yellow bit...?”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

With his attention drawn to that worn portion of tapestry, Asphodel drew back to create room. As Wil inspected the spot, Asphodel’s focus shifted elsewhere on the tapestry, gathering more clues. She picked out a few inscriptions alongside the runes that named the summoned demons, but no further evidence was forthcoming.

Wil spoke again and she refocused on the Exchange’s newest agent. His willingness to dive into the mystery with little prompting was endearing to the vampire. She made a contemplative noise—considering the age and origin of the tapestry that was a solid guess.

“A greyhound perhaps,” she agreed, her tone soft and musing. Her sharp eyes picked out the threads of yellow fabric, faded to a pale shade. “Seems to be…What do you suppose it belongs to?” the archivist wondered, pinching her narrow chin and genuinely curious for the young man’s thoughts.

[Wil Carter]

Wil thought the archivist was being very generous with her time, letting him poke at a mystery she could probably solve with her eyes closed or whatever. Still, he leaned in close again, then pulled back and checked for shapes and patterns one would associate with the general portrayal of a gathering - though maybe not a demonic one.

If there was an important person here somewhere, they would not be hidden, would they? And he knew some of the big houses in England displayed portraits of their racing dogs along with their horses, so the dog being there made sense. Family portraits through time usually didn't include unimportant people, as it were, those not part of the circle...

“Circle,” he murmured, giving the tapestry a quick scan again from side to side. “'m guessing here, but if this is about the centre of the piece and if this...” He extended his right arm and made an oval with his index finger around a section where the sacrifice was to the left of the middle of the proposed space. “If this is the centre, then the, uh, victim is not the focus. Why would she be? Now, the dog, if that's what it is, and the person beside it is the focus and we're missing other things to the right that are part of the scene.”

Wil turned his head to look at her, full dimpled grin on his face. “Though I could, of course, be mistaken.”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

As Wil walked her through his conclusion, Asphodel was quiet, gently nodding along. The logic followed and as he favored her with a dimpled smile, the vampire was quite charmed. Grinning, she nodded more firmly. “Well, I'd say you were a good addition to this team,” she mused, near flirtatious as she batted her pale eyelashes. She had the full capacity to be sly and charming, but she meant it in earnest. However, she didn't linger on that.

Focus returning to the tapestry, she added, “I don't believe the dog would be there if our missing subject was a corpse. So... Perhaps, a life to extend life. Which is...” She reached for a magnifying glass and ran it over the runes along the edge of the tapestry. “Very pertinent for our current investigation. You've heard of these circle murders, yes?”

[Wil Carter]

Wil was pleased she thought he was a good addition to the Exchange. He had avoided the organization back in the UK, mainly because he thought they were too big. That and he had been given his first hunting job by a good family with a solid history in the field and he was quite happy there.

Also - Was she flirting?

“Circle murders? Yeah, I've heard of 'em. Sounds like someone has a very bad hobby and too much time on their hands.” Wil pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Horrible...”

[Asphodel Malvolia]

Wil looked appropriately regretful but the immortal at the table did not have the same kind of sympathy. To her, this was a mystery to be solved and the human--or inhuman element, in this case--was simply unfortunate. Unphased, she chuckled, smirking at Wil terming it a hobby.

“Wonderful! Then you'll know what I'm on about.” She fluttered her fingers over the macabre scene before them. “This is not related, but it is pertinent research. Perhaps we can pick a few clues out of these threads, hm? Here-” Setting her toolbox down on the edge of the table, the vampire plucked a notepad out of its depths and offered it to her shanghaied assistant. “Show me how good your handwriting is and copy down some of these runes on the edge.”

[Wil Carter]

Wil didn't consider himself much of an artist, but figured he could give it a try. He accepted the notepad, withdrew the pencil he'd placed behind his ear back at his desk and glanced at the runes in question. It would not be a test of his handwriting, really, more like could he manage to duplicate the lines properly.

He noted that Asphodel did not seem very concerned with the number of deaths involved in the case so far or the potential for terrible things being summoned or whatever the perpetrators were doing with the magic they harnessed. She was a scientist and focused on her research to solve the mystery and that involved exploring things like tapestries with sacrificial themes.

So.

Wil shifted along the table so that he was right across from the edge of the tapestry. Applying pencil to paper, he copied the runes in a line on the top half of the page, about twice the size of the originals he could see, leaving spaces where the lines were interrupted. On the section of the page below that part, he copied the same runes only filling in the lines that weren't there, extrapolating where they might have gone. It took him just a few minutes.

He tapped the end of his pencil against his chin as he reviewed what he had accomplished, then printed the date at the top, the word 'Tapestry' beside it and 'W. Carter' at the end.

“Here,” he said, holding out the notebook to her. “Does that help?”