Following the Scent

[Saccharin]

(Reserved for Satyr)

Halwyn was bored. Excruciatingly, frustratingly bored. And for Halwyn, boredom felt a lot like quicksand; if he stood in it for too long, he feared he'd sink. As soon as night had fallen, he'd stepped outside and began roaming the city, dressed simply in a black button-up shirt, dark washed jeans and motorcycle boots.

After two years, Sachi's novelty had finally worn off. He went through the motions, smiling and laughing when she did something that he’d once found adorable and endearing, but it felt hollow.

He felt hollow.

Lazarus, if he hadn’t fucked off to wherever he'd fucked off to, probably would've rolled his eyes at his predicament, pointing out that he only had himself to blame, seeing as how he was fucking a woman. Not that there’d been much of that going on, given his other predicament. He cringed, because he could imagine what the Ancient would say if he knew.

Really, love? Can't get it up?

Fuck him. He wasn't even there, and what the fuck did he know, anyway? He just... wasn't interested in Sachi anymore.

Halwyn continued without real purpose, his lips set grimly. He supposed he was searching for something that could stimulate him, but with his head down and his eyes riveted to the ground, it wasn't anything he saw that made him stop and finally look up - it was the indisputable scent of flowers.

Next to the path he'd stumbled upon, there was a stout little plant with bright yellow flowers that had recently unfurled to greet the night. Nine o'clocks, his mother had called them. Despite their name, they rarely opened exactly at nine (as a child, he'd sometimes spent hours waiting for the vivid yellow petals to reveal themselves in front of his eager eyes), and he was saddened that they'd all opened already. Then another cloying fragrance wafted past and he was moving again, so focused on finding the roses he smelled that he didn't register he was only walking farther onto private property or that, briefly, there was another's presence in his mind.

His doggedness paid off, because there, within one of the larger greenhouses he'd seen in the city, were easily hundreds of different flowers - many he'd never encountered before. But it was the roses that drew him close, had him cradling blooms gently between his palms so he didn't bruise their delicate petals and leaning over to inhale deeply.

They smelled like memories.

[Trillian]

Charon settled his family and informed them that he would deal with their uninvited visitor.  The ancient touched Halwyn's mind as gently as he could to glean intentions, and wasn't threatened by what he found.  He made his way from his basement office beneath the church, through the tunnels that were lit with an electric lantern only at each end.  No mortal would be able to use the lights, but Charon could see them easily, and make out his path clearly.

The greenhouse outer door was never locked.  There was no need to, for nobody was foolish enough to invade the space of a family filled with ancient beings.  Those on a mission obviously would, and this was how Charon pictured Halwyn, as he reached the trapdoor that would take him into the middle of the greenhouse proper.  He climbed two rungs of the ladder and reached up and easily hoisted the heavy iron grill with one gnarled hand, pushing it all the way back so that it whoomped onto the soil floor.  After climbing out and shutting the trap door behind himself, he stepped onto the path and rose to his full height, seeing Halwyn over the tops of the plants he tended, noticing the careful way the other vampire was handling them.

"Peccatus," he said, naming the hybrid bloom he'd created and named.  "A beautiful red.  Blood red, and the colour of sin."

He waited for Halwyn to look at him, and wondered what the other vampire would make of his appearance.  He expected a visible reaction, perhaps a flinching away or a moue of disgust.

[Saccharin]

At the back of his mind, Halwyn had acknowledged that there might be a human presence on the property he'd invaded, but they'd be asleep and he'd be in and out without anyone the wiser. Except, that was a vampire behind him, wasn't it? And, judging by what he could smell over the flowers, he was a very old vampire.

Because he'd spent so much time of his time with Lazarus recently, he was familiar with the smell of Ancients; it was a stale, musty odor that was flavored with something acrid, like old books. It was unmistakable.

He released the flower slowly, so he wouldn't risk shaking any of the petals loose, and then turned with an explanation on his lips. "I was just-"

Halwyn's words dried up in his mouth like a creek during a long drought and his eyes widened as he took in the creature that stood before him. He'd once been a man, clearly, but now he was all wrong. In his mind, he pictured a sarcophagus lid being pried open and within, this withered corpse without the dignity of linen wraps to hide its misshapen features. 

"The roses are very beautiful, but I should be going now," he said, surprising himself with his ability to speak an intelligent, coherent sentence, given the shock he was still in.

[Trillian]

Charon was upset, but should've known better than to be hopeful.

"Why the hurry?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing.  "Can you not stomach the ugliness that created this beauty?" he declared, his gnarled hand gesturing around and between them.  The greenhouse was filled with beautiful things, as was the house that it joined to, and the lovely creatures inside of it that Charon had also helped create, by extension.

[Saccharin]

Halwyn winced. Five seconds in, and he'd already managed to piss the guy off. In an attempt to remedy the situation, he tried to keep his eyes on the Ancient, to show that he didn't have a problem with his appearance, but they kept sliding off.

"I didn't want to intrude," he said lamely, to the ground. But then, he registered the rest of the question and glanced up at Charon again before looking around the greenhouse. "You grew all these?" 

[Trillian]

Of course he knew his appearance always shocked and offended people.  Some were able to cover their surprise, others he would always break it to them gently - as he had with the journalist, Murphy.  But this was Halwyn, who'd led the city's darkest into the light.  Why did he struggle with seeing Charon's appearance, when he'd had the plan to reveal them all?

Being able to talk about his gardening and breeding calmed him a little, though he was suspicious of Halwyn's interest.  He must sincerely enjoy the fruits of nature, because why else would he trespass into this greenhouse?

"All of them are mine," he said, nodding.  He remained where he was, wanting Halwyn to look around them both and be appropriately awestruck and worshipful.

[Saccharin]

Halwyn complied, grateful for the excuse to keep his focus elsewhere. "I'm impressed," he said, and truly, he was. Many of the flowers he could see were exotic and rare, others he hadn't seen since boyhood, and a few - like the impossibly dark red roses at his back - were entirely unique to the greenhouse.

When he made eye contact with the elder vampire again, not only did he maintain it, he was smiling. "I had a garden, once. Nothing like this, of course. Mainly roses, some clematis and lilies, but I had to leave them because..." His expression grew blank as he tried to place the exact reason he'd had to abandon his flowers. There was an emptiness, a hole, where the memory should've been, and he frowned. "It doesn't matter," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Anyway. I'd love a tour, if you're willing." He'd either flatter the Ancient with the request, or piss him off again. He hoped it'd be the former.

[Trillian]

He looked at the other vampire for a short moment before deciding that a tour would be a good idea.  Of at least the greenhouse, if nothing else.

"Let me begin my tour by introducing myself," he said, moving around some of the potting tables in order to better see Halwyn's full appearance, rather than from his chest upward.  He didn't bother extending a hand for the shaking, however, and kept a distance of about three metres between them.  "I am Charon, and the founder of the Sacramentum family."

He doubted Halwyn had heard of them.  It was possible he had, if he visited Risk often enough, but Charon was familiar with the VIP list and was positive Halwyn's name was not on it.

[Saccharin]

Halwyn was relieved that the Ancient hadn't tried to shake his hand, because he suspected bits and pieces of Charon would slough off in the process and his reaction wouldn't have been appreciated. "Halwyn Doyle," he said, supplying his own name but without any fancy titles... mainly because he didn't have any.

"Sacramentum family?" he then asked with an inquisitive lift of his eyebrows.

[Trillian]

Charon smiled, and even though it should've been horrific, the warmth behind his eyes wasn't insincere and made him look more human.

"My children," he established.

[Saccharin]

"I see," he said, but he didn't. When he thought of children, he thought of tiny humans who needed food and love and to be tucked in bed at night. "You have many?"

[Trillian]

Charon lowered his gaze to all of the flowers, unseeing.

"I had three, but they are all dead.  I have their children, instead."

[Saccharin]

Halwyn blinked. His three children's children? But he was really fucking old, how did he have his mortal children's... Oh. Fledglings. It was a family of vampires he'd referred to.

"Like a clan," he speculated. He'd heard of vampires gathering in them before, and even heard of some with names (though they were named silly things like Ventrue and Toreador).