#lanning

Lebeaux sidled over to plant himself on said stack of books. Making himself perfectly comfortable. He had already greeted them so he didn’t bother doing it over again. “And how is your question and answer session going. Have you offered him tea, Geofferaut.”

"I don't know. No."

"...Actually, we were trying to figure out why you sent me here." It wasn't so much a we as it was Atlan asking Geoff a thousand questions.

Lebeaux smirked smugly. “Atlan and I are your guests. Some tea would be in order.” He reminded Geoff before he smiiiiled over at Atlan. “Well, having you take a lesson from Geofferaut was mostly a way to kill a bit of time. Since I assume pulling teeth would actually be easier than extracting guidance from him.” He declared, rather proud of himself for that one. “It’s rather to do with the other half of our agreement. You gave me permission to have you studied, essentially.” Lebeaux waved a hand at Geoff. “He is the most thorough researcher I know.”

Geofferaut turned his attention back to the pile of papers in front of him, a blank sheet on top, now that Lebeaux was bearing the brunt of the socializing. His hands filled a crucible with clear liquid from one of the bottles and set it by Lebeaux's knee.

Atlan almost visibly shrunk back at that explanation. Of course, that would explain the nature of this place. The smells, the tools, the general chill of the place... If Atlan didn't know any better might think Lebeaux had chosen this particular place because of the information he'd let slip during their first lesson. Atlan set the book down upon the desk since Lebeaux was sitting on the pile now. "...I did agree to it," he muttered.

Lebeaux picked up the crucible and set it on the stove behind him without shifting his attention away from Atlan. “You did, indeed.” He agreed with a serene smile. “Geofferaut, Atlan is host to a specimen relevant to our recent research. There are marked similarities. Would you be willing to examine him.” He offered, picking up a pair of tongs to remove the crucible from the stove once it was heated to set it over by Geoff and the ingredients wall again.

Geofferaut placed the single mug next to the crucible and extracted a small scoop filled with small leaves from the bottom-most, right-most drawer on his wall. These were added to the mug, the scoop was returned to its place, and the drawer was closed snugly.

"Yes. I have questions."

"...Okay," Atlan pushed away from the wall and stood with his arms folded over his chest. He'd asked plenty of questions, after all. It was time to let Geoff have a turn.

"What percentage of the subject must remain intact."

"Wha...?" Atlan's head snapped from Geoff to Lebeaux, obviously not expecting questions of that nature. He could still run if he needed to, at least, with Lebeaux no longer blocking the exit.

Geofferaut repeated, a few decibels louder, but with no additional inflection. Or any at all. "What percentage of the subject must remain intact."

"It hasn't revealed anything else to me otherw—" Atlan Lanning stopped, eyes snapping to Geofferaut. "My... no, well yes. My mother's still alive. She still communicates with me sometimes, but Saerdha killed my father."

"Where is your mother." Geofferaut Derosiers asked.

Lebeaux Desrosiers casually set down the mug to make a few more notes at that. “How nice.” Look at these two. A mammet and a monster yet they still kept in touch with their mums. Wasn’t that sweet.

"I think still in the Shroud... the swamps to the south. It's easier for her to find subjects the Wailers won't look for there."

"Okay. What is your mother's name."

"Ofelia Lanning. Why?"

"I intend to communicate with it.” Geofferaut answered before continuing his own line of questioning. “You will describe Ofelia Lanning."

Lebeaux noted that down carefully. She certainly sounded a charming sort. “Has she been keeping track of your condition.”

"I... I really don't think that's a good idea. She does terrible things to people... horrible experiments, and if you're out... interrupting her," he warned, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good.

Lebeaux smiled primly as he looked around the clinic. “And just what do you suspect goes on here, Atlan.” He mused. “I think they’d have quite a bit to talk about.”

"You will describe Ofelia Lanning." Geofferaut ordered.

"She's... been watching me ever since Saerdha and Rin took me away," Atlan answered Lebeaux, then turned back to Geoff, sighing. "She's short, same eyes as mine... dark hair, and has a Hannish accent."

"Your father was an elezen. Probably a Gridanian Wildwood." Geofferaut hypothesized.

"...Ishgardian, but yes. The rest is right."

"Okay. How does Ofelia Lanning watch you."

"That's a good question. We've been trying to figure it out, too, but she's apparently recently spoken with Rinha'li. She got chased off before she could tell him what she wanted..."

"What chased Ofelia Lanning."

“Imagine she didn't want to be spotted by other people, or me... Others showed up after she got his attention, so she couldn't be alone with him. Geofferaut, I really don't think you should try communicating with her. She's dangerous..."

"How does Ofelia Lanning communicate with you." Geofferaut repeated flatly.

"...Recently? Often. She leaves some of her research and letters under a tree for me to take."

"Where is the tree."

"Um, do you have a map? I can mark it... A map of the Shroud, I mean."

"You will wait here."

"Lebeaux," Atlan frowned as Geofferaut walked off. "Really, you should talk him out of this."

Lebeaux returned with a fresh cup of tea, just barely missing getting it knocked out of his hands as Geoff strode by on a mission. He settled back into his seat, smiling cheerfully. “Out of what. Are we going on a field trip to find Ofelia? That sounds absolutely lovely. I’m sure she has all sorts of useful insights to share…”

Geofferaut unrolled a Shroud map on the table. It featured notations in the general vicinity of Amdapor in the south written in a tight, obsessively neat hand.

Atlan looked over the map as he plucked the pencil from the table and made several marks in the more remote parts of the swamp. "...This is where she kept me, in her lab, but... I don't know how much of it is left. This is where the tree is, but I think it moves. It's not... normal, and it smells like corpses. I guess that's how you might be able to tell it apart from the others."

"Okay." Geofferaut rolled up the map and tucked it and the pencil away among the collection of miscellany on and in his robe.