He led Vex, bound of course, to his little office where the Grotesquery lay on display for all to see. He sat Vex in his leather chair, grabbed a knife and plunged it into the table before putting on surgical gloves and a mask. "Mr Vex, before you get the wrong idea, I must say I do want to hurt you. I would like nothing more than to disembowel you and hear you scream as I go, but not only have I been forbidden from killing you in a twistedly horrific way, but I also need to talk to you, or maybe someone more experienced if I had someone more experienced on hand, about this." He thumped a fist against the Grotesquery's chest. He didn't look too happy. "Mr Vex, I believe I can get someone who is more experienced, only I don't know where to find his corpse, and it could have serious negative repercussions on my cause.
"So I'm going to bring back Baron Vengeous...but, like I said, I don't know where his body is.
"The thing is, I need someone with direct dealings with the...this thing! I need to know how easy it is to control, how it can be stopped...for that, I might send you to ask your friends...it would be helpful to both our causes...I don't want the world to end, you see? So much more to do, Mr Vex. As loyal as I am to my father, this little beastie gives us a common enemy...otherwise I'd be more than happy to join in the harming, killing, torturing, enslavement...bye bye silly mortals...I like the harming bit..."
"So I've gathered, but your idea of bringing back Vengeous would only increase the chances of them succeeding and you and I failing."
Esra sighed through his nose. "That's true. But I need someone who knows their stuff, and I don't trust you."
Pourri knew the man all too well. She had met him before, but she wouldn't have recognised him if the long-haired man had said 'put her in with Mr Repine'. "Hi..." Kelpsie mumbled nervously, understanding what Austin meant when he had said he had recognised his voice.
He hoped Baritone was asleep, or just not listening at least. "...So you're agent Fiable's sister...?"
"You attacked me."
"Attacked is such an ugly word-"
"You attacked me without warning for no reason!"
"My salary was being paid for the job of killing these select few agents and-"
"You attacked me while I was pregnant! Heavily! And very obviously!"
"You can stop shouting at any-"
"So that you could kill my boyfriend?!"
"...It was my job..."
"Next time, get a better job."
"Trust me, ma'am, I've learnt that lesson." He hung his head for a moment. "So...how'd you get caught? I thought you were in France...pretending to be a mortal...what brings you to prisoner cells on Irish soil?"
She looked around to make sure no-one was listening in. "They're going to come back, take me out, find out who I am. When they do that-"
"You'll be bound."
She jangled a set of keys in front of his face. "I'm a pickpocket by nature, my friend. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I won't tell you my whole plan, but providing Jasmin doesn't recognise or want to kill you, you'll be free soon enough."
Jasmin was so sick of waiting. He sat in the waiting room, tapping one foot on the floor. The repetitive sound was driving his friend crazy. Charles got up and began pacing. The waiting was always the worst bit for Jasmin. Jasmin hated waiting. He was so impatient sometimes. Getting up and getting his phone out, he turned in a slow circle, taking photos of the four walls. This was where he hoped to take the prisoners.
Finally the two of them were called in to see the elders. A woman entered the waiting room as they left, her feet sounding against the hard polished floor with a clunk, clunk, clunk, and there she waited. Concious of her height, she was wearing baggy clothes that worked to hide her curves and had her blonde waves of hair tucked beneath a cap and a hood in a bun. The only thing that gave her away were her clunky heels, which she then removed and held in her hand, shifting her weight anxiously. Mevolent's move on the Irish Sanctuary started with her.
"So what do you want me for, exactly?"
Esra had been silent for a while now, staring at the Grotesquery, partially with a sort of hopelessness, part disgusted and with definite fear. He slowly turned his head back to Dexter.
"Okay...There is something I might trust you with...and that is judgement on the Vengeous idea...it is a wide shot, and if I do do it nonetheless...I will bring him back, and I'm going to ask you to help me send him back to oblivion..."