[It's days after his first obsessive round of reading and rereading three lines of text that Mitchell finally acts. Well, "acts"--he sends a text message. That's the modern age for you. In another time and place maybe this delay would be something calculated, a show of indifference to a potential threat, a chance to gather forces and information. Instead, Mitchell's got three fucking lines of text and a recording of Hal Yorke sounding spooked.
And a text message conversation with Annie. That's the one that actually makes this easy.]
So I hear you know Hal Yorke pretty well.
[Both are guesses, the first bit more certain than the second. No follow up text, just that. And waiting.]
[ Not much waiting. Cutler's been expecting something since he started chatting Annie up on the network, frankly, and the name John Mitchell was one of the more conspicuous ones that'd cropped up on the network. ]
A little bird told you, yeah? I assume you're acquainted with him as well.
[There's too much to read into that, too much implied--or potentially implied--or maybe he's reading into it, looking for something where there's really nothing at all. But it's really the use of his full name that gets under Mitchell's skin, puts that echo of an ache back into his teeth and fingernails in earnest.
But the actual pause between reading and response is very short.]
Great. That's great. [who the fuck are you is too direct, right] Where do they have you living, I'll come to yours. Out somewhere, tomorrow. Since you've got the time.
[And even though he doesn't know that Cutler is a vampire, Mitchell is thinking pretty much the same thing. Nice and public--and also in Heropa, which puts Cutler close, either permanently or impermanently. Not up in Maurtia Falls with Hal Yorke.]
Sounds perfect, mate. Tomorrow afternoon. See you then.
[Sabriel hesitates for about fifteen minutes before leaving her message. Even after the message starts, there's dead air for ten seconds before she speaks.]
Mr. Cutler, I want to talk to you.[Her tone is even, controlled, and as courteous and nonthreatening as she can manage.]
Why do necromancers ever want to talk to the dead? [All right, that's mostly bluster, to fill up the silence. Her next words are more sincere- and more awkward.]
I've never met a vampire before. I've learned about all the Dead that exist in my world, but vampires aren't among them.
Yes. And I'm sure you have some questions for me, as well. [Not that she's willing to answer all of them, but it's pretty clear he'd never met a necromancer before her.]
Obviously. [And for a few seconds, Sabriel's voice shifts from 'deadly serious' to 'petulant teenager'.] I am a mage, after all.
No, I tried to research it on my own, although most of what I found was just... folklore. Running water and sunlight make sense, those work on the Dead from my world. Decapitation and wooden stakes... make less sense, but multiple sources seemed to think they worked.
[ Oops. To annoying her, partly, but mostly to her getting any accurate information. ]
Yeah, well, I'm sorry to say that you've wasted your time. I imagine it depends on where someone comes from, obviously— different worlds, different rules. But that's all folklore for us, as well. I'm quite fond of the sun, actually.
I suppose I'll have to stick to ripping the spirit out of the corpse and forcing it to pass on if any vampires here cause trouble. [So really, how she deals with most Dead creatures.]
[ Sounding very mildly distressed, though he does a good job of keeping his voice level, for the most part; professional, helpful. ]
Like I said before, things are different, here. The government's got our backs. We haven't got any reason to— [ Kill seems a little harsh. ] Do anyone any harm.
Well, technically, yeah. But it doesn't have to be straight from the vein, so to speak. [ As in literally. ] They've got a donation system. Hospitals. It's all very sanitary.
[ And a beat later, almost as if he's forgotten: ] But I've gone clean, anyway. We can survive entirely without it— it's just a matter of willpower.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text;
And a text message conversation with Annie. That's the one that actually makes this easy.]
So I hear you know Hal Yorke pretty well.
[Both are guesses, the first bit more certain than the second. No follow up text, just that. And waiting.]
text;
A little bird told you, yeah? I assume you're acquainted with him as well.
text;
[Unfortunately.]
But if I'm going to tell the truth, it wasn't a bird that told me.
text;
text;
Got time for me?
text;
He isn't in a hurry to talk to most people, these days.
But do I have time for John Mitchell, absolutely. Would you like to meet somewhere?
text; legwork done I'll set something up tomorrow ok
But the actual pause between reading and response is very short.]
Great. That's great. [who the fuck are you is too direct, right] Where do they have you living, I'll come to yours. Out somewhere, tomorrow. Since you've got the time.
text; ok ok ZERO RUSH THO
[ A nice, public shop. Not that he doesn't trust another vampire to keep things under control. ]
text; we'll just see how ambitious I feel ok
Sounds perfect, mate. Tomorrow afternoon. See you then.
Voice
Mr. Cutler, I want to talk to you.[Her tone is even, controlled, and as courteous and nonthreatening as she can manage.]
Voice
About what?
[ A little petulant, but he's curious despite his better judgment. ]
Voice
I've never met a vampire before. I've learned about all the Dead that exist in my world, but vampires aren't among them.
Voice
[ Wary, still, but this is good. He can work with this. ]
So you wanted to ask me about it?
Voice
no subject
[ A brief pause. But if she's not jumping to go first, he's happy to, thanks. ]
That thing with the bells. Is that your power?
no subject
That thing about the garlic, that's nonsense, right?
no subject
[ He's seen them in action, but the skepticism's still hard to shake. ]
But yeah, absolutely. Garlic's fine.
[ Ish. He still avoids it, even if it won't hurt him. ]
Did someone here tell you that? That garlic would harm us.
no subject
No, I tried to research it on my own, although most of what I found was just... folklore. Running water and sunlight make sense, those work on the Dead from my world. Decapitation and wooden stakes... make less sense, but multiple sources seemed to think they worked.
no subject
Yeah, well, I'm sorry to say that you've wasted your time. I imagine it depends on where someone comes from, obviously— different worlds, different rules. But that's all folklore for us, as well. I'm quite fond of the sun, actually.
[ Nah. But he can go out in it just fine. ]
no subject
no subject
I should hope that wouldn't be necessary.
[ Sounding very mildly distressed, though he does a good job of keeping his voice level, for the most part; professional, helpful. ]
Like I said before, things are different, here. The government's got our backs. We haven't got any reason to— [ Kill seems a little harsh. ] Do anyone any harm.
no subject
Then... You don't sustain yourself on people's life-force?
No imPort does. And yet some keep trying to do so, according to some of the older newspapers I've read.
no subject
[ And a beat later, almost as if he's forgotten: ] But I've gone clean, anyway. We can survive entirely without it— it's just a matter of willpower.