No sooner had Marcus stepped foot into town for a hunt, then his phone began to vibrate rather incessantly for a brief period. He ignored it for now, intent on sating his hunger before catching up with whatever nonsense his attention was needed for. Hunting was never an issue – just find a neonate or ancillae that wouldn’t be missed. That, or convince a few to embrace some Shovelheads that he could later track down and eat. It was sufficient for him, and he never worried about leaving them alive. It wouldn’t do to be bound to anyone, after all.
He perused the city for a while, pausing here and there to catch up with his notifications. Most were nothing he was overtly worried about, though there was one that caught his interest. There was an email, albeit far from recent, from an old friend and rival. With a bit of a smile, he closed his phone and made his way home. It would be better to read it there than out in public, he felt. Sure enough, as soon as he arrived at home, he locked up and made the way to his computer, where he logged in and scanned over the message. Confused at first, he went back over and re-read it a few more times in an effort to understand it fully.
It was unlike Brandon to make things seem too obtuse, but he thought he got the gist of what had happened. He struggled a bit with the dulled nature of his emotions. Generally, he was all to please at the idea of being owed a favor by Brandon. It had rarely happened, but nevertheless he wasn’t inclined to consider this a favor. He knew of Petra, and had in fact tried to go behind Brandon’s back on more than one occasion to recruit her to be his ghoul, or even childe, but she stubbornly refused. That, and several other qualities, had helped endear her to him, and he’d helped her with things here and there over the years when she was working.
Largely, this had taken the form of advice on how to cope being in a world where she didn’t seem needed, or so she had felt. He grew to look forward to their talks, and it was rare these days that he enjoyed much of anyone’s company, so he valued it for what it was worth. Frowning over the thought of her being lost in some mindscape hell for who knew how long, he began going through his library for hints or clues as to what had happened or how to reverse it.
After hours – days? – of research, he reached out to contact Brandon via the phone, only to have Emilio respond.
“Decacious residence.” E,ilio answered.
“Emilio? It’s Marcus.”
“Good evening, sir.” he responded. “How may I help you?”
“Is Brandon available?” he asked.
“No sir, he is away on an extended trip.” Emilio said.
“To help Petra? Or am I hopelessly outdated on that topic?”
“You are correct sir.”
“When you speak to him next, let him know that my help and resources are available. Stress no boon owed, if you would.” Marcus stated.
Emilio blinked. “Are you sure, sir?”
“Yes. I don’t suppose you know hen he’ll be back?”
“No sir. But he has left someone in charge of his affairs for the time being.” Emilio offered. It was not a violation of his orders to do such, after all.
“Not Vince, I hope.” Marcus said.
Emilio smiled, but didn’t convey it over the phone when he spoke again. “No, sir. His associate, Endrik.”
“Ah. Very well. Pass the info along to whomever needs it then. Contact me at this number if need be.”
“Very good, sir.” Emilio said, clicking the app closed once he heard Marcus hang up.
Marcus set the phone down and thought as he looked over his library, trying to think of different angles of approach to the situation. He was willing to do what it took to help, not because he had some sort of nonsensical notion – that was more Vince’s department of unspokenness – but because people he valued were rare, and he’d like to keep her around.