(Untitled)

[forourqueen]

When; January 4th, evening
Rating; R for zombieness
Characters; Asshole rogue (forourqueen) and lady in distress (misterblackbird)
Summary; Gabriel has had enough of the ticking. His solution? Kidnap some company.
Log;

Comments

[misterblackbird]

Another day--no curse to speak of, fortunately, but Cain was still obliged to see to his duties at his inherited cafe (no other way to think of it, really, if he wasn't to think of it as his own), which meant that much less time to follow any rumours or whispers he might hear of his missing servant.

That really was getting tedious. He checked the Hall of the Missing at least once a day, on the off chance or on the strange hope that perhaps this time he'd see Riff's face there (again--how many times was this?) amongst those who had departed from the City. But still, no. For good or ill, he was yet in the City, somewhere.

Of course, Cain knew where he was--or at least who had him. The detail of precisely where they were was another matter. He would much rather try and follow any trail that might lead him to that place than deal with the tedium and ordinary details of the cafe. But it was his duty, in a way (perhaps it that sense of duty came out of Uncle Neil's reminders of how the Earl of Hargreaves and head of the Hargreaves House ought to act). So he endured it.

It didn't mean that he walked directly home after, though. He still found time enough to ask what he hoped were the right questions of the right people in the right places. He knew his father well enough to surmise some of what he might be doing. And where he might have been.

Still, there was only so much that one could do in a day. He was tired. If things were as they should have been, Riff would be waiting for him at the opera house, ready to take his coat and bring him a cup of tea. But things were not as they should have been. He ought to be more wary, he ought to think more carefully. He settled his hat a little more surely on his head and kept his cane in hand--a strange sort of comfort there. The opera house wasn't far now and he knew this part of his way home well. He hurried, of course, but not so quickly...