Member
Loom
Themerlinhawk
Lazarus, Shaylee, Ian
The Resurrection Mage looked out on the street below the second story of his townhouse in Loom. It had been quite a while since he’d lived in the house but it was the best place to operate out of within the city. The move had been swift given the call which had woken him up early that morning. Shaylee hadn’t be pleased; the whimpering had been real but when he’d told her that he needed her in the field with him it had galvanized her to pack up her shit and get on the private jet from the airfield within an hour drive from Finch’s Loft. Lazarus had made the drive in forty-five minutes. By the time they were wheels down in Loom Lazarus practically dragged Shaylee off the plain. Swirling the glass of scotch in his left hand he looked up at the grey sky. They were only a few blocks from the Academy. For a moment he could almost hear the squeezing of floor boards as Mary trapsed through the house, the sound of Hazumi’s dress on the wood floor, the sound of Iris harp and Ian’s flute.
A sound from behind him brought him out of the memories. Shaylee stood holding up a shirt “Why are there so many rooms with women's clothing in them in this house?” His apprentice looked at the floor length mirror in his room as she considered the shirt. Lazarus could already tell it was too small for her. It was Mary’s and Mary was smaller in the chest than Shaylee was. Chuckling Lazarus was reminded of all the flak he’d gotten over the years for the young women who regularly ended up in his wing or under his teaching.
“Because once upon a time I had other women in my life. We lived here when I was teaching at the academy. If you need clothes I suspect that you are closer to Hazumi’s measurement; those clothes are in my room, the big standing wardrobe. Although you may be a bit taller than her so you’ve been warned.” The look on Shaylee’s face was priceless as she snapped the shirt down and turned to look at him with a look of indignation. Before she could speak he held up his finger. “I’m an artist. And you’re beautiful so if you even think that I can’t tell you what your clothes sizes are you need to rethink your life.” Chuckling as she sputtered he set the scotch down and took the shirt from her hands and eyed it. “Yeah Mary’s clothes aren’t really your style. Try Hazumi’s clothes and if you can’t find anything there is a clothes store down around the corner.” With that he made his way towards the door of his room.
“Lazarus...What happened to them..?”
Shaylee’s question wasn’t surprising but it was still something that stopped the man in his tracks. “Mary left, Iris disappeared and Hazumi I still don’t know.” With that Lazarus moved for the door and was stopped again.
“Is that why you wouldn’t let me leave Finch’s Loft?”
Turning around Lazarus met Shaylee’s searching eyes and it almost broke him. He could see the insidious fear twisting there behind her eyes. The realization that the man she was following lost those around him as a course of life. Her fists were clenched and she finally dropped her gaze. With two quick steps Lazarus crossed the room and put his arms around her. “Yes. I’ve lost too many people in my lifetime and I do care about you so it’s hard for me to put you in the crosshairs with me. That being said I would be doing you a severe disservice by not exposing you to what is in the world as safely as I can.” The young woman drew her arms in and Lazarus felt her press into his embrace. Lazarus could feel her fear as she shook; he knew part of it was the draft in the house but it was clear she was starting to understand that the world she had dove into was deeper and darker than she had imagined.
“Come on let’s go get you something warmer” He heard her gentle sniffle as she rubbed her nose. “Pervert you just want to see me try on clothes.” It was meant as a jab but his response made her bright red. “Of please you’re telling me you don’t think i’ve seen you naked?” With a chuckle Lazarus propelled the now sputtering Shaylee towards the master bedroom.
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The smoke of the irish bar wrapped around the man as he stepped into it. The bastard sword on his left hip made those at the door look twice as the black two piece suit contrasted with the archaic weapon. With a casual motion Dr. Finch snapped his left arm out and brought the cuff of his shirt up so he could tighten the cufflink on it. With careful steps he crossed the room towards a man sitting at the bar. Settling in he placed both his hands palm down on the top of the bar.
“So you’ve been busy I hear.”
Ian looked up from the partially consumed dinner sitting on the top of the bar and looked over at Lazarus. “Well I’ll be damned, he lives.” Lazarus smiled at that and didn’t make eye contact. “It seems like we have a lead.” Ian nodded “I assumed he called you too? I was wondering if the kid had a point.” The necromancer nodded along with it. “I think he should take it into account.” With that Ian pushed the plate away. “So you’ve moved back into the house.”
Lazarus smiled. “Why yes I have.”