166 My apartment

I entered my apartment, place my items on the desk, next to a few unsorted bits and bobs. I look at the only art piece in my room. It remind me that I was a Yoit. I should take control of the firm. I too had the blood flowing in my vein so why should all that magick go to Diana.

Speaking of Diana, I should take her luck, all of it. So my first stop was her boy toys. I was going to make them mine. If not I will place a tag on the, limiting their help.

But first I needed to refuel. So I walked to the kitchen/lab.

I fired up the wood-burning stove and prepared a quick meal of grilled alligator meat, the last from my latest visit to Messalina. I wolf it all down and went to work.

With a have I was at the council building. The last place I wanted to be but there was a few people who courted Diana. So here I was looking at the sprawling collection of buildings constructed with blood magick that reek death. Each was made by a different Elder so they don't match, and they come from a wildly varying of styles and forms, but they have somehow adapted themselves into a cohesive whole - much like the council, faction-ise yet not.

SEON Investigations operates out of a big, run-down stone building, a huge tower that has managed to hold up solidly in spite of the years and the wars it had experience. It has bars over the small windows and the only door was made of thick steel.

The inside of the building is plain, just like the elder who manage it. Peter Warne eyed me as I entered his room, he was impeckably dress as always,

"Hiya, Peter," I told him, and held up the manila envelope I had under one arm. "I have something for you."

"Grey," he said warily and jerked the envelope from my hands,

I knew I look a mess as I had worn my clothing for at-least 48hours. Still I was a Yoit so I deserved a bit of respect.

"Where did you get this?" he asked,

Well, I could hardly tell him that he told me in the future right?

"Well, what is it worth to you?" I asked, distracting him,

There was a paused.

"Nothing?" I asked, turning around,

"Wait."

I turn back facing him, his face grim. He was thinking of the cost. But for me, I had already listed it out in my mind.

"Hey, we go way back so I'm give you a good price." I said, "Just sign the doted line."

It was a good price. All he had to do was not leave his room for six months. And then give me a pint of his blood every month for the next thirty years.