November 1, 2022

Oleander and Lock end up on a snowy riverbank by some tall evergreen trees. In the distance they can see a bridge over the river, and on the other side, some... vague brick structure? It's hard to see with all the fog. The sky is dark, the water being a luminescent blue as the stars in the sky twinkle. There's a blue aurora in the sky as well.

Lock takes a step back as she looks at the ground and lifts a foot up off the snow, "Woah..."

Oleander looks behind him, seeing the doors gone. "Shit..." He takes his bag off, pulling his coat out and putting it on. "Need a coat?" He asks, looking around a tad

"It's cold? But beautiful?" Lock is still looking around at the first snow she's ever seen...well not counting the incident. Lock zips up her own hoodie. It's mostly woods around them, aside from the bridge and distant building. Oleander nods, zipping up his backpack and putting it back on.

"I think I know where we are... don't stray off, stay close to me." He starts foward towards the bridge and structure. The bridge is made of very structurally sound stone bricks! There's white candles with blue flame on the railing of the bridge.

"Uhh ok," Lock goes to follow. She quickly finds out its a bit faster just walking in Oleanders foot steps he leaves in the snow. As they make it to the structure, they notice it looks more like a castle. There's a couple of trees surrounding it, but overall it looks very fancy. There's warmth coming from the building as well, some soft music coming from inside. Oleander slips on his bird skull mask, heading to the doors.

The entrance is a foyer to what appears to be a large mansion. It's mostly made of marble with accents of sapphire, lapis, and gold. There's portraits of a man in a regal blue suit with feathery hair and white antlers wearing glasses. They all have the plaque STOLAS beneath them. There's some potted plants as well, and fluorescent blue lighting. Oleander sheers and shoots the portraits. Casually.

"Wow this place is ugly," Lock whispers.

Oleander chuckles. "Agreed." There's two staircases leading up to a balcony with some doors leading into hallways and two doorways leading into halls on the floor they're on. Oleander heads to the right doorway on the floor they're on. It leads into an area with a small bar, fit with some arcade games, a billiards table, a tv, and a darts board. Looks like it was ripped straight out of a 90s movie.

"Why does this look like Blair's scrap books?" Lock asks.

Oleander grabs a couple bottles of rum and puts them in his backpack. "Lets check another hallway out"

"What are those?"

"Alcohol," He starts walking out the doorway. Lock follows as she tilts her head. Oleander heads to the left doorway. It's a relatively good looking home cinema! The projector is off. Oleander sighs and heads up the balcony to the right. There's a door that has a window in it. Behind the window is stairs going up. The door is labelled "Observatory". They head to the left first. Lock has no sense of nothin and follows. It leads into a library. Lots, and lots, and lots of books. The ceiling is made of glass that allows the moonlight to pour in, along with a chandelier that's not lit up. All the books look extremely fancy, the shelves made of a dark blue wood. Most of the room is made of this wood. There's an area in the middle of the library that has stairs leading up to it, with a podium in the middle. There's a book on the podium. He heads up the stairs to the podium.

"Yup, hate this room," Lock has a hint of fear in her voice as she stays standing near the entrance. The podium is made of marble, and the book is open to a page about... Huh. It's. Unreadable. Just a ton of letters and symbols mashed together?? Not even in a way that would make sense.

HOWEVER there's a symbol on the page. The sigil of Sorath! Oleander studies the page for a moment, taking it and shoving it in his backpack. He looks around to see if theres anymore sigils on book spines. Several. Various books on or by various demons. Lock looks uncomfortable as she waits by the door. He notes it and heads back down, showing the book to Lock. "Can you read this?"

Her eyes widen some as she covers her eyes, "No, I can't read."

Oleander puts it back in his bag. "Alright... cmon." He heads back to the observatory. They enter a large room with many telescopes, bookshelves, tables, lab equipment, and a large, round bed that looks more like a nest than a bed. The ceiling is a dome, mostly glass, and there's a large telescope facing the aurora. There's some noise coming from an area behind some of the shelves.

Oleander puts a finger to his lips and creeps over, trying to listen in.

There's a figure sitting at a table, in front of many screens, watching various angles of a man and a woman fighting. The man appears to be dressed in red and severely injured, half of his body covered in third degree burns, while the woman seems to be relatively in shape. Neither seem to be winning as the figure chuckles to themselves, stirring their drink before sipping it.

The screens shut off as the figure stands.

"Oleander Andrews and Hemlock Whim," they say, facing away from the two. "I see you've taken the liberty to enter my home on your own accord."

Oleander sighs and stands in front of Lock protectively. "Thanks for not using my dead name. Very trans ally of you, acting Prince of Treachery." He says with faux confidence, masking his fear. "But yeah, seems like it."

"...ohhh," Lock realizes quietly

"You're lucky neither of you ended up in Violence, lest you had been brought to one of the museums." He chuckles, turning around, his eyes glowing blue. "Though, I believe it would be best for you to leave. I don't need any rats getting in my hair," he gestures to Lock as he says 'rats'

"I mean I agree, I wanna leave too," Lock seems unphased.

Oleander bites back an insult. "Best be on our way anyways," He looks Stolas up and down with disdain.

Stolas steps forward. "Very good." He turns to Oleander, "I would like for you to return that book by the end of the month." The two disappear in a flash of blue distortion.