✰ ☆ ★ — Fide Fideles Vocat

It has come to my attention that you will, upon circumstance of a medical board conference to take place on the second weekend, you will be residing in the vicinity of Manhattan and its surrounding areas.

The need is felt to issue unto yourself a warning, for the aforementioned region of New York City is territorially run by a being hemoglobically inclined, as it has come to my knowledge that you, yourself are. Hunting in this area is strictly forbidden and shall be enforced without mercy. The exact method of this enforcement shall be left to your imagination.

Best Regards,

Daniel A. King.

“Really?” Joseph’s interest spiked. He couldn’t imagine a provincial man ever being raised to such status, not when they were barely considered to be British at all. “I do believe your’re correct there. Plenty of men are landed, I myself would appreciate to once again have a small acreage outside of the city. But, there are hardly any one might consider the gentry, let alone a Lord.” 

Joseph looked across the open room, empty except for the two of them and the seating. “And how would you know about that?” He asked, curious but cautious. “Though I suspect that as it led me directly to you, that it is reciprocated?” He sighed and shifted in his seat, then stood up. “My guess then, is that is why you’re here? Not to be a parliamentary representative, but because the Masons know that … whatever you are is also whatever I am?” Joseph was rubbing at the back of his neck, dislodged some of his hair from it’s neat braid.

He placed his hands on his hips, bowed his head for a moment in thought. “I do believe it would be far more productive for the colonies to have our representatives over there in parliament.” Looking up again he held out a hand to placate in case his comment had been insulting. “Not, of course, that I don’t appreciate and welcome your visit here.” A small wave of his hand, trying to put together words. “Forgive me I am normally far more eloquent. What….what are we then?”

“Once again?” He raised a brow, intrigued by the implication that such acreage was once in his possession, but was no longer. This would certainly be something Daniel would have to look into.

“Indeed. The ‘whatever’ you and I both are, we are not unique beings. There are others like us, more than a few of us. I, like you, am far older than I look, Mr. Wood.” He adjusted his stance slightly so that he could hold his posture in a much more satisfying manner. Not anything intimidating, just to keep himself a bit more dignified in how he was holding himself.

In the Virginian’s mind, Daniel was a figure untouchable, to be feared, and to hide from. It was the fear of his brother murdering him that kept the state of Virginia under control, a bitter hatred of the crimes committed during the Civil War that drove him to want to kill the elder. But like he’d promised, John-Robert had since supported Daniel on the international stage, until he’d then run away. The younger rep had felt hollowed out and misused to the point of no longer able to carry out his duties, so he had carved himself out further to be human, and to hide. 

When the golden ring was flashed his way the younger brother’s eyes widened. He sat forward in the chair and reached to hold Daniel’s wrist. “When’d this happen?” He looked up, “You ran off to Monaco to marry?” Disbelief, and disaproval, colored his tone. “That’s what you’ve been doing? All this time?” 

JR’s mouth pulled downward into a frown. He glared at the ring and at his brother. He hadn’t been able to marry, his love had been destroyed during their war. Fire danced in the Virginian’s eyes when he stood and accepted the glass. “I certainly hope you aren’t looking to lecture me about any neglected duties, considering your fine vacation.” Bitterness cut the words off. JR maintained eye contact while he quickly tossed back the contents of his glass. Though his hands momentarily shook, no punch or other strike came flying for Daniel. Just a grip around the glass that turned knuckles white, and the sparks that danced around in the Virginian’s eyes. 

Precisely as Daniel wanted it to be - he was a force to be reckoned with and no one dared challenge him for the most part. He was left to his own devices in most cases and could proceed in his daily life with minimal interference from others. It was part of why he hid himself away in New York, why he had once had places like Calbrondt he could run away to and keep himself from being found. 

“I ran off to oversee the marriage of our Grace Kelly to Prince Ranier of Monaco. I just so happened to hit it off with Monaco herself.” It wasn’t a lie at all - that first night, they did get along splendidly. It was months into the matrimony that they began to collide... on too many facets. 

Every time that John-Robert put distance between himself and his brothers, he wanted one of them to close it again. Bradley was the only one to ever do so, but it was with Daniel that he needed the most healing. It was unfortunate that the Virginian no longer understood how to tend and grow healthy relationships, but while human, he was learning. A quick look was cast the elder brother’s way. 

“Away?” He snorted a laugh. “You’re never with anyone. What are you getting away from?” JR’s drawl was more relaxed than he had been around Daniel since early on in their relationship. He picked up the bottle and helped himself to a long drink, tipped his head back and drained a good portion while standing across from Daniel. “Wine,” The Virginian declared, “Champagne, those are good for celebrations. Whiskey? That’s for getting drunk.” The bottle was tipped in a quick salute. “You can’t argue with me on that Old Man, I know a lot about getting drunk.” 

Of course, being human, the recovery was much slower. A quick pang, a minuscule widening of that empty part where the ‘more’ and preternatural part of him had been carved out - reps were not meant to remove that from themselves. Quickly JR massaged that spot and then flopped on the sofa, still with the stolen bottle. “So what’re you running away from?”

The more time he spent with John-Robert, the more and more it became clear that the two had become incredibly estranged over the past two centuries. A civil war tended to put quite a rift between brothers, but Dan had grown yet further away.

“Monaco. I’ve been in Monte Carlo for two years.” He toned flatly, casually moving to grab the bottle shortly after it was set back down. That stuff was expensive and if J.R. wished to drink, he had better options for getting alcohol into the system without spending several grand to do so. Without explaining himself, he turned to put the bottle away and find something stronger with less of a price tag.

“Yes Brad!” Was wheezed after another precious breath. Once he was dropped, JR doubled over and braved himself on the small table near the entrance. His face was a little pale, and he new bruises were forming on his ribs. “Everyone’s favorite banjo picker. You sent him back from Korea to hunt me down.” A glare, heated but without the usual promise of death or bodily injury within it. Only strong annoyance. “The little shit spent three months tracking me down to the Carolinas. …I was restoring her house.”

Able to breathe again he straightened up, met Daniel’s reddened eyes and flushed face. “Don’t say it like that.” John-Robert’s expression closed off, defensive, his body tight like one braced for a blow to fall. His back was still to the elevator. “He already tried to drag me back there, I didn’t let him and I won’t let you.” A quick huff of air and the Virginian stomped further into the apartment, and swiftly changed the subject. “And what’re you celebrating then?” He waved at the bottle.

Space was what the Virginian needed now, he was sure. He’d just hurt the man, after all. Give him room to breathe and exist, and for Daniel, a chance to process this new information. Bradley had apparently taken the liberty of not telling the whole truth and trying to meddle with the flow of events. Again. The boy did try to keep peace in their ragtag family, but it hardly ever went as the Tennesseean planned.

Best to avoid the topic of Jeanne - Daniel did not hesitate to allow the change of topic, though it was not quite as welcome as he had hoped. “Hardly a celebration. I needed some time... away.” From work. From Europe. From the Russian eminence and overbearing wife. Monte Carlo was too loud and fast and bright for him to find some quiet there, and hardly a corner of it felt safe enough to unwind properly. For the moment, his hands shifted, enough to make sure the ring-bearing hand wasn’t quite visible.

Riding the creaky, screaming elevator up fifty floors was horrible. How his elder brother managed to suffer that thing was beyond the Virginian. He stood in the corner with hands over his ears, listening to his own heartbeat and the blood rushing around. It was a good feeling, being human, not having his sensors overloading to be in such proximity to Daniel, no extreme desire to murder his brother or fear that he may explode on his siblings at any moment. Most interesting to John-Robert, was the quietness in his mind, an emotional aquitity he hadn’t had before.

Still, he knew that at the top of the elevator was a very real risk of being shot or otherwise killed. He and Daniel certainly were not on good terms, hadn’t been for a long time. The elder was even one of the reasons that he’d run away in the first place. When the doors finally ground open, the knife was the first thing that JR saw. Immediately his senses went into overload and he was prepared to have to fight the other man, now far stronger and faster than a mere human could ever hope to keep up with - and instead of any of that, he was drug forward into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dan?” He choked out, “Ribs, Daniel ribs!” He tried to shove the elder brother away, “Daniel let go of me or I won’t be alive for long!” JR was trying to leverage his arms, the scent of alcohol didn’t bother him, he himself was known to be a heavy drinker, but the need to breath certainly did! “Why all the surprise anyway you’re the one who sent Bradley after me you Old Man now get off!”

The elevator was indeed a loud one, but Daniel preferred it that way. In an age where even one’s neighbours could hardly be trusted, a loud noise to alert him to any incoming guests was highly appreciated.  Perhaps one day he could jump the cost and acquire a more quiet operation for the lift, but that time was far from today.

It took a moment to register what was being said, what was happening - first he was rather caught in the implication - “Bradley sent for you?” Confusion. Utter confusion. It had only been a year since- “”Bradley told me you were dead-”

The embrace hadn’t ended yet. He wasn’t about to let go, but the noise J.R. had made clicked something. He hadn’t felt the Virginian approach. He was hurting the man. With enough speed he nearly dropped his brother, Daniel took several steps back, confused. “You’re...?”

Most days, Joseph was punctual to everything. He arrived early enough to straighten his notes and documents, and that was that. This particular day he had finished early and so had nothing better to do than to walk across the small city of Philadelphia to the masonic lodge. A discomfort had begun just on the edges of his senses a short time ago and he he drew closer to his destination, the sensation grew. It become something closer to awareness, could be pinpointed in his chest, or perhaps in his diaphragm, like a tug drawing him around the building to a particular entrance. 

Joseph obeyed it and led like on a taught string he entered through the doorway, immediately looking for the source. The room was empty, nearly empty, except for a lone man who sat against the wall near the exit. “How did you do that.” Was the first words out of the lawyer’s mouth. He looked the man up and down, his gait, his clothes, his voice, a thick brogue. “Joseph Wood.” The seemingly-young man answered while shaking the hand. “It’s not often for our humble meeting to have such esteemed visitors. Certainly not Lords or Ladies. These are the colonies, you know, the most prestigious individuals here are governors.” 

Like the other man, Joseph too was inspecting. There was an eerie sense of familiarity about the stranger. Not quite looking at a reflection, but perhaps what an artist might come up with were someone attempting to describe him? Combined with the strange pangs in his chest it made for a….unsettling meeting.  What brings you all the way across here?”

Daniel had a habit of arriving early to nearly everything he attended - To arrive early lent the opportunity to observe others as they arrived, to take mental notes and have an idea of the people he was to deal with.

“I’m no stranger to colonial lands. Even born in New York, quite some time ago.” His smile was polite and welcoming, quite happy to know that he was far from the only one among the colonists who had his particular... livelihood.  “My particular situation is a rather unique one. As far as I am aware, I am the only titled man in America, though other traits of mine appear to be less than perfectly unique. Tell me, Mr. Wood, how did you feel upon approaching the building?”

His gaze is searching, looking for the exact key that made this otherwise stranger seem so familiar, much more than another Representative should have offered him. 

An invitation was sent, to join him for an evening of drinks and dinner. He had some business to discuss, but primarily he sought to enjoy the company of a man he respected well enough- and an offer to make over the Madeira wine that had been causing a few issues lately.

The letter he had sent held only minor reference to the proposition he planned to offer, merely an implication that an offer was to be made. Its details would be discussed in time. For the moment, he simply needed to greet and welcome the guest to his rented dwelling.

Philadelphia was hardly New York - Smaller. Quieter, if not by much, but his travels had shown him places much larger than either and now he was finding a place more out of the way to observe. He wasn’t quite sure what it was he was getting into, but considering the importance implied in the letter he had received, it would be something he was not going to have in his best interest to miss.

It was perhaps ten minutes into his making himself comfortable that a particular ache in his chest and sudden need to pay attention told him that he was not alone - a feeling he had missed ever since his return to the Colonies. Not quite as strong as Noel’s or Nicholas’, but unmistakably one of his own kind. What he was entirely unprepared for, however, was the face that greeted him looked eerily similar to his own. The same structure in the nose and chin, and very similar eyes. He was on his feet without hesitation and crossing the room to offer his hand.

“Daniel Fitzroy, Lord of Calbrondt-”