Collecting information

[t_coleburn]

T.C. wakes midmorning, hungover and bleary. An hour in the kitchen with coffee, a few shots, and a bowl of ramen is enough to restore him to what he considers working order, and he heads back upstairs to the library. There was something to do. Something important. What the hell was it? Damn memory... On a hunch, he checks his email and it all

Comments

[twitchnosewitch]

((*hearts when plans come together*))

[t_coleburn]

((I bet the mage's council won't be happy. };-> ))

[twitchnosewitch]

((And we care about them...why again?))

[thomas_small]

-Tom doesn't realize he's actually been mouthing the word "Ashwind" as well as thinking it until he's there. He shrugs it off and knocks on the door to the house.-

[t_coleburn]

The house is a two-story brick building, in what is clearly a wealthy neighborhood. There is a high brick wall and an imposing metal gate, but he is inside these, on the front porch. There is a buzzer ((I'm going to assume he pushes this as well as knocking, if that's okay)). a moment or two after he presses it, he hears an intercom click on and a voice comes from next to the door. "What?" He sounds annoyed.

[thomas_small]

Oh, a lovely greeting. It's Black Tom. Ye called on me?

[t_coleburn]

"...Black... oh. Yeah. Sorry..." The intercom falls silent, but after a moment he hears footfalls from within. The door opens to show a very tall, scrawny man in need of a shave. He appears to be in his mid thirties, with wire rimmed glasses and short copper curls. There is a faint but distinct aura of whiskey. There is also the faintest of Irish accents, the kind only really noticeable to another Irishman. "Sorry. Forgot... Yeah... I've got blueprints and some schematics of the basic security system..." He lets him in and shuts the door, then leads the way up the stairs. The house is elegantly built, but has a dusty and disused air.