Back Home?-No Event-BYOA

[grimholdkeeper]

After a quiet night in his room, Balthazar wakes in a labyrinth of clutter and dust, sprawled across a threadbare red velvet divan. The smell of the place, and the feel, is so utterly familiar he sits bolt upright. Home? Home! Delight and relief are immediately replaced by a vague sense of regret. He can't quite remember where he thought he

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[of_florence]

Ezio thought that he was walking into his room. The Hotel gives him a headache sometimes, the very Borgia colors nearly assaulting, and it is a good day when he can crawl into his bed without some sort of unintended molestation.

Listen to him. How Frederico would laugh. Too much of a good thing, Ezio...Except his room is dark when he pushes aside the door and instead of the normal empty swing there is weight, a quiet scream of metal hinges that stands the hair up on the back of his neck. His boots find the click of hardwood under heel instead of plush carpet and not even assassin reflexes can catch the door as it slams shut behind him, wrenched from gloved fingertips. Ezio stares at the meshing. He stares at the cement steps behind the meshing, knowing he had not just climbed them

[of_florence]

But Ezio's shaking his head halfway through, eyes following hands from the metal pitcher that Balthazar is filling to the way he pats over himself and then finally back up to a knitted brow. "Please, wait-- there's magic and then there's magic? I'm not sure that I understand." Ezio pushes bangs from his face just to have them fall right back into his eyes thoughtlessly as he steps forward. Honestly he isn't sure that he understands any of it.

"If this place is an illusion then..." But how? A hand curls into a fist and there's a light, frustrated bang against the counter-- and then an exhale. "I am starting to miss the times when the greatest unknown in my life was if Leonardo's damnned inventions would kill me."

And there is, somehow, amusement buried in the sentiment. Ezio may be a man of action but there is intelligence to temper it-- sometimes there must be stillness and deference. Right now his blades will do no one any good. "What are you searching for, amico mio?"

[grimholdkeeper]

"I'm a sorcerer," he explains, pulling out a threadbare handkerchief, a set of keys, a couple coins. He sets these on the counter and tries another pocket. "What I mean is, there are ways mankind uses magic, for good or bad, and then there are...other powers. Fae, demons, things for which we don't even have names. What's out there, that darkness, is something I don't have a name for. Which doesn't mean it's unconquerable, just unknown

[of_florence]

I am a sorcerer, he says as if it were true. I am a sorcerer.Ezio watches him rummage through his clothing without saying anything at all in return. There is no way to confirm or deny the bold statement, not personally, but what Ezio can do is listen-- and the rest of what Balthazar says, that much is true. Whatever is outside the windows does certainly look forboding and unnatural but that does not mean that it is insurmountable

[grimholdkeeper]

The coffee is almost done; the percolator is making soft, liquid rattling sounds. Balthazar nods slightly and tucks the doll under his arm, then gets out cups, sugar, and cream, setting them on the small table by the wall. He seems unwilling to let go of the Grimhold, even for a moment, and he's similarly protective of the small box that holds Merlin's talisman. It's not until the coffee is poured and he himself is seated that he checks the box, then tucks it away again. The doll he sets on the table by his elbow.

"The trouble is, I'm not exactly certain what's going on," he says, gesturing to Ezio to take a seat. "My guess, from what I remember of the hotel, is that we're still there and this is some kind of trick or trap. I didn't remember any of it clearly until you mentioned it, but it doesn't seem beyond the realm of possibility for the place to tamper with memories."

((Not a problem. My brain isn't working well the past couple days, anyway. Maybe I'll have it together again by the time you return. ^^; ))

[of_florence]

Whatever those two objects are, they are very important to Balthazar. Ezio has to admit that it makes him curious but right now there are other, more pressing, things. So he only glances at the doll as he seats himself across the table with a careless sort of grace. Sitting here it's more disconcerting to be truly facing a man who looks so much like a care-worn version of his best friend than his anachronistic surroundings, which are at the corner of his eye.

"When I stepped through your door... standing in your shop I nearly forgot about the Hotel." Ezio rubs at his chin for a moment. He'd been thinking of Leonardo. "It is only the strange items you have here that destroyed the illusion for me. So we are still in the Hotel. Then we simply find a door, yes? Find a door and walk back through."

Ezio pauses. "Unless you'd like to stay here? The color palettes are certainly more pleasing."

[grimholdkeeper]

He smiles faintly. "They're not that strange to me, but then I've been collecting them for some time."

Watching Ezio turn the problem in his mind, he sobers. This is where it gets awkward. "Have you been in the Hotel long? I'm not saying that just finding a door has no chance of being effective, but quite often the methods one needs to open said door are..." He worries his lip, searching for a word, "unorthodox."

It seems likely that intimate contact is what's expected from them, in order to escape. He hesitates to suggest it; the other man is certainly attractive, and likeable, but the sorcerer is always uncomfortable with the pressure the hotel places on them to perform. He smiles weakly. "I don't think I want to be stuck here forever. And I'm sure you wouldn't want to be."

[of_florence]

The original smile is returned. "I meant the pot that makes your coffee, my friend," he murmurs. "The things in your shop hardly bother me. At least the ones I was able to see."

As for the rest of it, Ezio settles back against his chair as Balthazar speaks. Watches the cues on the man's face. The way his teeth scrape at his bottom lip. This is not a turn of events that he is particularly overjoyed with. "Unorthodox?" The word is repeated, questioned, and Ezio frowns-- mostly in concentration-- as his arms cross loosely over his chest and he answers. "I've been there only a week. Perhaps less, as time seems not quite as... heavy? As I am used to. As solid." There's a shake of his head for not quite being able to communicate the idea. "Either way, I know nothing about the doors in the hotel. Only that it is very red there and very--"

One hand that had unfolded and swung out as if to help punctuate the thought, stops with the sentence. Then he meets Balthazar's eyes and it is clear that the man's meaning has been taken. "Ah."

[grimholdkeeper]

"Oh, Mr. Coffee?" He smiles weakly. "That's actually an older model, for the world I come from." Lucky thing he doesn't have a computer just now.

When Ezio pauses, Balthazar looks even more awkward. The reaction doesn't give him much to go on. Shock? Horror? Interest? Anger? Well, the situation is what it is, regardless of his new acquaintance's feelings about it. "I would never force myself on anyone, man or woman." That's assuming he even could. His magic is unreliable in the hotel, and Ezio looks like more than a match for him in a physical fight (and he doesn't even know about hidden weaponry). The comment stands, regardless.

"And there is a possibility we could find another way. I'm willing to try. I don't trust this darkness outside--I'm concerned about what might happen if we break a window--but the choice is yours, and there's no rush. My cabinets seem to be intact. There's water and food for at least a few days." He smiles apologetically. "And more coffee."

[of_florence]

Even with his hood back, Ezio is careful with his face. He may not feel threatened in Balthazar's presence but trust is something that is given only after it is earned-- like a weapon; trust is much like arming a man, after all. "Unless you truly are the sorcerer you say you are," and there is still some skepticism there, "than I am rather sure that you could not do anything I would not want you to do." There's a glimmer of over-confidence there, a corner of a smile, but the foundation-- the confidence-- is solid. In truth, it is not a brag, only a certainity of himself and his abilities. Still, despite the statement the Fiorentini hardly seems abashed by the ideas that Balthazar is suggesting. Homosexuals are certainly nothing new to him and even he and Leonardo

[grimholdkeeper]

His eyebrows go up briefly, but he takes the confidence in stride. Mildly, he replies, "I promise you, I'm exactly the sorcerer I say I am. I was taught to control the elements and the mind, to heal and to kill, but above all I was taught honesty and self-sacrifice."

He picks up the Grimhold as he finishes speaking, meeting Horvath's painted gaze. "That, and the long, hard road, rather than the easy path." With a slight shake of his head, he tucks the doll back into the pocket from whence it came. As before, it doesn't distort the shape of the coat he wears.

"So. Yes. We can certainly look over the building for another way out. There are four floors: the attic, the apartment we're in, the shop, and the basement. There are windows, three doors, and drains and ductwork. If you want to split up, we can for these two floors, but some of my artifacts are volatile; I'd rather we did the ground floor and the basement together." He smiles. "But we can finish coffee first, if you like."