House Searches and History

Log Info

Title: Housesearches and History
Emitter: None
Characters: Reg, Sandra
NPCs: None
Place: Prieto Residence, New York City
Time: 6/10/10, morning
Summary: Reg searches the Prieto residence for the key to escape and is joined by Sandra. The conversation moves from tactics and strategy to Sandra's hatred of things Greek …

Surrounded by a high stone wall, the Prieto residence is an island to itself. Willows shroud much of the view, while a hedge-maze dominates the west side. Amongst the white marble and the massive windows - some span the length of a room, others multiple stories - the architecture evokes an old-world castle through Hollywood's eyes: balconies, turrets and baroque arches. Inside, that old-world style translates into furniture and filigree, pale, bright and ornate. Everything is hard and polished, every surface showing a faint reflection. And everywhere, there is glasswork, from the immense art-sculpture chandelier to tiny paperweight orbs.

Reg can be found wandering the halls. It looks chaotic, but if you pay attention, it does have an order. A kind of weird spiral that will allow him to check the least amount of halls at once. It's not his invention, but it's big in certain mystical circles. He's frowning, looking over at the wall, and shakes his head, moving onwards again.

Sandra has been doing her own investigating, more observation than anything else. And now she finds herself standing before Evelyn's rooms, her blue eyes narrowed as she peers at the doors to the suite. Fingers run along the door jam, not touching the door itself, curiously, before she lets her fingers fall to her side.
Turning around, Sandra starts down the hallway, only to stop short as she spies Reg not a short distance away. Lips thin into a pale line, before Sandra sighs and lets whatever thought was hovering in her mind go. Instead she offers a somewhat formal nod of greeting to the Graecia, waiting for him to pass - not wanting to get in his way.

"Good evening," Reg allows to the young woman. "As I said, it's taking a while. I'll find the proper locations soon, though. Hopefully." He cants his head, looking towards the locked doors then back at Sandra, "How're you doing?" He wonders to the young woman. He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing his brow tiredly.

"Do not wear yourself out, Reg," offers Sandra, honestly sounding gently concerned. Then she looks over her shoulder, before glancing back at the young man. "I am fine, truth be told. There is no way that Evelyn has been able to make contact with my parents, which is a good thing. I am worried about if she was able to reach Alia's. We do not need an intergalactic war started. But my guess is she has not been able to get through the layers of Bureaucracy to reach the Ambassador properly. I could be wrong, however," notes the woman with that odd awkward roll of her shoulders.
"If you need help finding something specific … some of us have been schooled in the Arcane," notes Sandra, before finding a wall to lean against. "I have a question though … have you considered using your spear to leave?" she asks. "Is it even possible while we are trapped in this half-state?"

A wry smile, "I rather doubt Alia's parents will start a war. For one thing, from what I hear, Earth's neohumans are rather more powerful than pretty much anyone. Tech would be an advantage, but not an insurmountable one. War wouldn't pay. If her parents didn't want her in such situations, they shouldn't've put her in Steranko." A slow shrug, "It's just a circuit, if you will. I'm looking for the proper vibration. It's easy enough to spot, if you know what you're looking for. Another set of eyes might speed up the process, though…"

"Well, it is an attack on Evelyn I worry about, being misinterpretted by other Dynamics. There is a tendancy, you must admit, to leap into action - thinking to save the underdog, without realizing why said subject is being attacked," offers Sandra before nodding. "I can attempt it. It has been some time since I have … well, no matter. It has been some time, but I will do what I can," she offers.
Blue eyes turn over her shoulder again, pondering Evelyn's doors. "She wouldn't have made it that easy as putting the key in her suite, then likely warding it, would she? If, perhaps, we could bypass the door and open it from the inside… well, now I am rambling."
Then Sandra looks to Reg once more. "I suggest we find the key that is keeping us in this state, and before destroying it, we prepare. Once the key is destroyed, we will have little time before Evelyn and her 'help' try to flee, or attempt something else. We should strike then, and make it clear, in no uncertain terms, she is /NOT/ to attempt such a thing. Oh, and destroy any shadows of ourselves she has created before they become self-aware. I will not destroy something that has a will of it's own. But so long as it is a puppet still …"

"Yes, we need to find the source of the power that's holding us here, locked in shadow. It's got a very specific feel. It's very hard to explain, however. Perhaps I can ask Stephanie to transfor it from my mind to yours. That might help. Do you have experience with walking the Paths of the Dead? It's got a similar feel to that," Reg allows. He pauses. Lips twitch. "Shadows of ourselves? I think that'd be amusing for them to try. I think mom might take steps if /that/ happened."

Sandra shakes her head, frowning as her blue eyes become introspective. "I have not been through tha… No, I have no experience with walkin the Paths of the Dead. But I think I understand the 'feel' that you mean. No need to tax Stephanie. I am a bit worried about her - she seems … too gentle and fragile. A good soul, far too good for something like this," she notes with a wave of her hand around her. "But then, I am very worried about Liv, as well. Have you spoken to her? Reassured her you do not blame her for this?"
Then Sandra takes another deep breath, arching an eyebrow up at Reg. "You keep speaking of your mother. I am fairly certain I do not actually wish to know who she is. So I must ask you to refrain, if you can help it. My curiousity is piqued, which cannot be a good thing in this case." Glancing down and away, Sandra watches the carpet for a long moment. "You should try and reassure Liv that your mother, whoever she is, does not blame her for Evelyn's actions, as well."

"That's one reason I stood up to her mother like I did. To put that thought out of her head, that I'd blame her," Reg says simply. "The other reason being, of course, it's best to face an enemy head-on. Especially for me." He trails off, "Subterfuge can work, but you play to your strengths. And if you say so, that's good. You can help me search." An aid another is -always- useful! Tilting his head to the side, his lips twitch. "Considering some of the vibes I get, I'd be afraid to tell you," he says with a humorous shake of his head. A pause, and he chuckles, "My mom wouldn't blame her. She'd expect me to get out of this mess on my own. After all, Evelyn's nothing special when you get down to it. Just another powerful person who thinks they should do as they please."

A silent nod is offered to Reg and the subject of his mother is dropped - hopefully. "Good, but sometimes a person needs to hear the words, as well." Sandra then glances around, and motions for Reg to keep walking, she will walk along with him. "I am not the best at subterfuge, but I do know that you cannot show your hands immediately in battle. Battle is chaos and constantly changes, a good General must be able to change with the tide of battle," the last is murmured absently to herself, rather than Reg. "I will continue to keep up the Diplomatic course with Evelyn, keep her busy thinking she has one potential convert in this group of impressionable youths. I need you to ready the others for when it is time we make -our- move. Amber and Alia, I understand what they do. And I have seen Liv, somewhat. But Stephanie I know little about, and I am not entirely certain what all Liv can do. But that I will have to 'play by hair'," she notes with another of those awkward shrugs. "But I do know that Evelyn does not know what she has gotten herself into."

"Depends on the situation, definitely," Reg allows. "Not all battles are won by subterfuge as much as by having a good position, but they amount to similar things in the end." A slight shrug is given, and he chuckles, "But yes, keeping her distracted is a very good thing." He trails off, and says dryly, "What you're trying is difficult. I hope you're a good liar. Evelyn certainly is, and thus she can turn it against you if you're not."

"I see no other choice," offers Sandra as she walks along the hallways with Reg, blue eyes darting here and there, as if looking for something. "Do you, really? I am a complete enigma to her - she doesn't know who I am, she doesn't know who my parents are, she doesn't know who my family is … " Sandra gives that awkward shrug as she walks along. "Besides, this is what I've been raised for."

"She doesn't need to know who you are. That will help if they study you, but you give off tells. I can't read them myself, but I've read about it. Your eyes widen imperceptibly. You swallow a bit. These tells are very, very hard to hide. And everyone uses them. They're constants." A shrug, "Knowing you would know what to say to manipulate you, but knowing lies isn't /that/ hard for that sort of person."

Sandra nods slowly, taking Reg's advice quietly - he is genuinely trying to be helpful after all. She really must stop being upset at him for something that happened before he was born. "Have you found a shrine, or the like, by chance?" she suddenly asks.

"Not as far as I know," he says. "It's possible that there might be one. Evelyn doesn't seem to be the sort, but you never know." He shrugs a shoulder slowly.

Sandra sighs, nodding to Reg for a moment. "I just wished a quiet, secluded spot for myself and contemplation," she notes, before her gaze returns to scanning the area as the pair walk. She knows she is unlikely to find something, but she will at least try to help Reg in his quest.
"And what do you believe the key is?" comes Sandra's next question, moving back to the original topic of conversation. "Or is it one of those things where the shape does not matter?"

"Honestly? I would guess it's a creature. When I use the ghost sight, I sense normal ghosts, and one odd sort of spirit suffusing the place, that I can't really communicate with. I think it's a spirit that is part of the building itself, and we need to find the place where it's bound," he tells Sandra. "Makes the most sense with what I feel."

"Interesting," notes the young woman, before shaking her head. "Very well then, where have you not looked?" asks Sandra, pausing to twist and stand in the hallway, looking down one end, then looking down the others. "Do you think she bound this creature into the house when it was built, perhaps? Or do you think it came after?"

"I don't know," Reg says. "I could probably figure it out when I find its core location, but it could be either way. Certainly doing it at first is easier, but being able to shift an entire building like this? Takes skill, so she probably could do it the hard way." Reg chuckles, "And we can't really see how old the building is from here, no way to check."

"By the architecture it isn't that old, well certainly not ancient," notes Sandra. "Not even a hundred years in age. And I would be surprised if it was more than thirty, really," she offers as she glances around, "considering some of the newer homes going up in the nearby neighborhood we passed on the way here."
Sandra offers a hint of a sigh before she starts to walk along again. "You have checked the lowest floor, yes?" she asks, before considering. "I wonder … you mentioned, before, secret compart… no, I don't think I could do that, likely. Nevermind."

"I'm going in a spiral. That's the most efficient way to search. I'll rearch the lowest floor soon enough," he says to Sandra with a slight shake of his head. "I don't want to check in the wrong order, I might miss something in between. Better to be methodical. It is more likely to be at the highest points or the lowest, but could be anywhere, really…"

To this Sandra just gives another nod, seeming to fall silent now. Really, she's just company as Reg searches, and Sandra knows it. Sometimes, however, it feels as if you are accomplishing more when you have a companion, then if you do not. Blue eyes do scan as she walks along, looking for abnormalities, or oddities, given what she has deduced of Evelyn's personality.

"Why do you hate the Greek deities so much?" Reg asks after a moment. "It's pretty obvious. You hissed when I did so much as speak Greek." This question comes quietly, as he continues to search, glancing briefly at Sandra before moving onwards.

Sandra looks away from Reg now, pointedly as she moves after the young man. "It is a long story. I will try to be … brief," she notes as she takes a few steps slowly. "It is … well … and I am not the only one, but I feel … betrayed. By Zeus, in particular. Your family remains faithful, and yet is destroyed and cast out anyway … I … " Sandra then shakes her head. "I do not hate them I … well, not all of them. It … is difficult to explain without going into greater detail than I am comfortable with at this time."

A nod, "The gods can be fairly overbearing when they get angry. History usually hides the whole truth behind a situation, but leaves anger. At least on our side. The gods tend to forget about it after a while, which isn't necesarily a good thing when you get down to it." He continues to look, "What exactly did Zeus do?"

"Let us put it this way … another deity had ten sons. Nine were arrogant as many mortals are," notes Sandra as she comes to a stop. "One remained faithful and obedient. The nine and their families were destroyed, and much of the last's family was destroyed as well. Zeus did not stop there, he banished what was left of the youngest of the children's family from his sight."

"Ah. One of those situations. It can be difficult. Most of the gods go overboard. Even the most steady of ones does once in a while. It's because they're bound by their natures, really," Reg says. "Which doesn't excuse, but explains. I daresay the situation was more complicated though. I mean heck, look at how much has been changed in America in the past 200 years. The things people believe about the Revolution." He shakes his head, "It's never good to be the victim of such things, though."

"The others stopped following the Law of the Horse-Lord, and as usual bragged that human might was greater than the Gods. But there was a faithful son, who, despite his faithfulness …" Sandra growls then, turning her back to Reg to hide her expression of frustration and pain. "I am sorry. It is a delicate … subject with my family," she notes softly. "It is very … painful. Still, we try … and yet, we get no answers, as if we were cut off."

"It's likely you are. The Gods can't really interfere with the world much, anymore. Well they can, but won't. Things are too precarious and few believe them anymore," Reg says with a shrug, "They work through agents, nowadays. Though monsters can come here. Thus the oddness that fills the world in its corners. There's still centaurs in the Yucatan, for instance."

"There is still my family," drawls Sandra with an odd accent that isn't quite Greek. "No doubt there are Satyrs still alive in the mountains of Iberia. And I have seen some of the great behemoths which still dwell below," she offers with another of those awkward shrugs. "One day, perhaps, I will understand all this and be able to bring my family some peace."

"Hmm." Reg considers this for a moment. "I think, and I'm speaking as an outsider who has a clear head as I don't really have any love for most of the Greek Gods as a whole, that what probably happened is this. There was an altercation. Something happened. It's probable that something happened with your family as well, if lesser than the others. And the Gods, in their normal overhanded fashion, punished more severely than they should have. Think of all the things Aphrodite or Ares did." He wrinkles his nose, "Even Athena did it once, though the truth is far different than what most myths say with Arachne. Some are closer than others." He pauses. "Sounds to me like you're focusing a lot on what was, instead of what is. Which can be dangerous."

Sandra stops short and turns to look at Reg now, her blue eyes a cold and cloudy sky. She draws herself erect, a regal stance as she tries to look down her nose at the young man. "What happened was the truth. The Law of the Horse-Lord was followed faithfully for generations. But as the blood of Poseidon wained, so too did the arrogance of the mortal blood grow. Nine of my anscetors bragged more about their might and refused to follow the Law. There was only one branch of the family that was faithful, and Zeus destroyed an entire civilization because he was ANGRY at the injustice brought to his brother. He didn't see the strong faith of my family. Instead … we were banished to the depths of the ocean, not even five percent of the population left alive. How we survived … we do not know, the records are VERY clear on that. The Temple at the highest peak is still there, there are those who still go there, I even hold the title of Auror of the Horse Lord, though it is a hereditary one. I have never heard the whispers or seen the hand of the Lord of the Deep. Still, I had hope … that one day … oh it doesn't matter," snaps Sandra as she shakes her head and starts to stalk off.
"Believe what you will, but we /HAVE/ to live in the past. We are reminded of it every day as we are STILL trying to rebuild what was left of Atlantis!" she grumbles as she stomps along.

A wry smile curves Reg's lips, as he regards Sandra, "So sure of what is, are you?" He shakes his head slowly, "This was told to you by your parents, correct? And told to them by theirs. And so on? Down the line from someone who was feeling incredibly wronged." His hands part, "Think logically. The gods /overreact/. And records can be changed pretty easily." He shrugs, "All I'm saying is this: try to face it as history and not as a personal slight. It will help a great deal, yes?" He shrugs, "This is an important truth: nothing we learn of history is true. Nothing. Everything is colored by belief and emotion. All we can do is learn what we can of the situation from multiple sources and try to build a coherent picture."

Sandra snorts, "My parents hardly see me. And when we do see one another, we do not waste the precious time we have over what is clearly written in the history texts. Which were, might I add, written only a few years after the catastrophe. So no, this was not told to me by my parents, nor by my father's parents." Sandra frowns even more, outright glaring at Reg now. "I should have known better than to tell a Graecia anything. How I thought you could be different," she states with a shake of her head before leaving.

A wry smile flickers over Reg's features, and he sighs, "Yes. That's more or less what I was talking about. Labels close the mind to possibilities. I'm hardly defending the gods, after all. I was merely saying that the situation was probably more complicated than is illustrated in … okay, records written by a people who felt betrayed. It's historical fact that such records tend to be a bit lopsided. Look at the records written by the Persians after they were defeated by Byzantium. Or, further back, the ones written by the Bengali when they were defeated by the Rajput. I'm not saying that you don't have a grievance. Just … don't let the grievance cloud your mind. If you really want to solve a problem, learn everything you can about it. Don't accept what you know as outright truth."

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