creepin' it real

They see a time skip of any length and go

did someone say… domestic rujinu? (｡-_-｡)

Chapter 2: Perchance, to Dream

Phyre sighed, more questions than answers. They looked to Mrs Thorn for help as they passed the photo to her, but all she could do was shrug. "Ask Tolly, dear. It was your herald who set you on this task. And that Hive certainly likes to act like know-it-all, so put him to the test. If he fails, shove the scrap down his snarky throat and laugh in his face for me." Back to Weaver Tower, then. Upon their return, Phyre found the spacious office empty, or that was how it appeared. They called out for Tolly like they had done before, just in case he was hiding again. No answer. To be certain, Phyre called on their vampiric senses, and indeed the Nosferatu was absent. The elder pulled out their cellphone and texted Tolly to come back to the office as soon as he was able. A few minutes passed, and the message had yet to be seen, or that was the initial thought. Then Phyre had to remind themselves that their herald admitted to having a habit of just reading the alerts instead of the actual message, on top of not responding. Tolly would simply show up as ordered, when convenient. And at this moment, who knew when that would be. Fuck… Phyre pulled out the photo of the staff only door and stared. Then came out the key. One in each hand. Impulsive thoughts came into play, ones that they had been pushing back for the last year. If only Fabien was here… What would Fabien say? What would Fabien do? Fabien… 'We'll make a detective out of you yet.' How would a detective go about this? A certain door blocked to the general public. A key labeled 'Maintenance'. One could assume these two things went together. A 'Maintenance key' to a 'Maintenance door'. But the space this door occupied was unknown, as was the meaning behind the message on the back of the photo. Phyre paused their detecting. Just in this office they had at their disposal two devices they could utilize. One they had already pulled out then set aside after trying to contact Tolly. The other was safely secured inside their desk the minute Tolly had finished with it earlier in the night. However, there was hesitation. Phyre was, as Tolly had said, not entirely competent with technology. Then there was the warning of being careful of what was passed along through unsecured channels. Keep it simple, then. Innocuous. As if a mortal could be doing the same thing. Phyre reached for their phone and tapped for the button that had been pointed out as the search bar. Top of the seach, nothing came up that was in any way significant. 'L1 L2' brought information about the human spinal cord. 'L1 L2 Symphony' was equally unhelpful, as Phyre was not looking for help in management skills, business solutions, or video games. 'Or maybe you should, with Campbell's company in your hands, you old fossil.' Hush, Fabien…