[Mousen]

It was raining. Rexus knew this only because he was on the top floor of his home, and from this angle he could see the tall arched windows at the top of the building splattered with rainwater. The top floor of his home was also the ground floor, as he lived mostly in the basement, and to a lesser extent the sub-basement. This top floor was an unorganized library, with thousands of books lining the walls, and even more strewn haphazardly across the floor. There were various filing cabinets too, and most of them seemed to be overflowing with various records and papers as the ones that couldn't fit were stacked against them.

In the middle of this chaos was Rexus, curled up on one of the two tatty sofas that were pressed against the bookshelves, with his nose in a book. There was a hot drink of one sort or another on the floor, the steam rising gentle curls. For a moment or two, there was silence.

Then Rexus sighed, making a small noise of annoyance at the back of his throat. The information in the book just wasn't going in, no matter how many times he read it. It wasn't even that he didn't understand it. He'd researched the subject extensively. In fact, he'd wrote some similar books himself. Rexus just wasn't in the mood for overly ostentatious treatises on re-animation. "This is intolerable." he muttered to no one in particular. He closed the book, and took of his reading glasses, resting both on the arm of the sofa. Maybe he'd visit Ezekiel later, certainly he had nothing better to do.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

[Just a stand-in for a pet that isn't yet made/bred. XD]

If Maverick were really on Juridia, he realized he'd be doing this sort of job anyway, although it still rankled more than a little. This was apprentice's work, and he should have made whatever passed for Magister on this planet by now, but that made little difference to the powers-that-be here. Apparently sending him out on this task was just some sort of test, one which he wasn't all that interested in the results of to be perfectly honest.

Regardless of how he felt, he had been sent to try and quell a supposed uprising from a young group of necromancers, and the person whom he was about to knock on the door of was thought to be at least one of their leaders. Not that it was any business of Maverick's who did and did not lead. Even if the uprising hadn't been something under investigation, he would have been sent here anyway to 'check' on this "ex" member of the art. On Juridia, it didn't work that way. Once you were invested, it was all the way or nothing. But this wasn't Juridia. It was Evelon. And he wasn't in his own body, either. If only the affliction hadn't followed him, it would have been a little less grating to know he wasn't where he considered 'home'.

Giving a sigh, he walked up the steps to the doors of the place, and knocked, pushing his cloak back over his arm for the sixth time. One of the annoying things about a younger body is that nothing seemed to fit right. As he was about nineteen in this particular body, it meant that his shoulders and arms were all lanky and wrong for wearing his typical garb. It wasn't the first time he'd pushed it back over his shoulder again.

"Excuse me, this is..." Ah hell, what was his title again? ... "Acolyte Maverick, with the..." Fuck, not Council of Magisters, but... "Society of Dark Magics. May I come in?"

[Mousen]

Rexus was startled out of his reverie by the knock at the door. He got up, dusting himself off and adjusting his clothes. He was short, startlingly pale, with his dark hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He glanced up at the wards above the door, they were glowing a faint blue. Another practitioner. Powerful too. It immediately put him on his guard, whatever they wanted it probably wasn't good.

He opened the door a fraction, and glanced at the boy stood there. The society, huh? What had he done now? Rexus frowned slightly, and opened the door fully. It was a little disheartening to see how short he was in comparison to the lanky teenager. "I'll want to see some proof that you are who you say you are. But, sure, you can come in." He gestured for Maverick to follow him.

He perched on the arm of the sofa, his expression unreadable. "Sorry for the mess, make yourself at home, sit where you like, you know the drill." Normally Rexus wasn't this curt, but he was concerned by this stranger and wanted to get to the point as quickly as possible. "Now that the pleasantries are over, what on earth does the Society want with me? I'm not one of their members, sure, but you don't look like you're here to recruit me." With any luck, this stranger would be out of his hair before they noticed the scythe that was leaning against his desk. That was one conversation that would take more time than he cared to think about.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

"Ah, well... There has been some unrecorded activity in this area - upstart groups, primarily." Maverick said, making his way in, and glancing around. Scythe by the desk. Interesting. Piles and piles of books - mostly on reanimation and prevention of death. Also interesting. Nothing too remarkable for a practitioner of the art. They didn't send him because he had all that much authority. No, there was a rumor going around the compound that 'Acolyte Maverick must be related to Sherlock somehow' - His powers of observation were second-to-none, and he'd been told what to look out for. Both magically, and physically. So far, no dark wards, no binding scripts, and certainly no altars. Oh right, identification.

He fumbled a card out of his pocket, and showed it to the man. It read pretty simply, and had the symbol of the Society in magically-infused ink in the corner. Impossible to forge. It said he was an Acolyte: First Order, under Siath Marcone, a First Order Society official. It also said his name was Maverick. The last name had been blotted out, but rather than magically, it looked as though the boy had done it intentionally - possibly with marker. Everything else was official though.

"I'm not here to recruit you. My Order Master told me to come investigate you." Maverick said, simply. There was no reason to hide the truth. Didn't look like this guy was their culprit. "He couldn't get off his dead ass to check it out himself, so he sent me. The disturbances are pretty bad, though. A whole bunch of teenage zombies showed up at a college party a couple of days ago. Someone is raising them, and we're not sure who, but there are a couple of candidates. You were one of them. Buuuuut... I don't see any evidence of it, other than your books and your scythe... Which I've gotta admit is pretty damn cool."

Putting his card back into his pocket, he crossed his arms. "Master Marcone required me to sort of demand that you help with the investigation, if you weren't one of them. So here I am demanding? Although I guess it's really asking. I don't do things like that old skeleton. Whose definitely got a couple in his closet if you ask me. Well, other than literally. I saw a few when I was in his office last night. Creepy shit."

He leaned against the wall, and canted his head to one side. The boy wore a glove, almost all the way up to his bicep on his right arm. It was not a glove of office, nor one of station. The rest of the boy's clothes were ragged and hand-me-down. What would he be doing with just one glove like that? Whatever the case, he now had a roguish smirk on his face. "So... what do you say? You want to help me find out why 'I Was A Teenage Zombie' reruns seem to think they can be the life of a college kegger?"

[Mousen]

Rexus looked over the card and nodded, everything checked out. To Rexus, it didn't matter if the last name was blotted out or not, that was Maverick's prerogative. Personally, back in his previous realm he'd often introduced himself with either a fake last name or none at all, the deMorgans had been infamous, and it was easier to avoid that conversation all together.

His eyebrows rose. Investigate? Rexus tried to remember if he'd done anything worth investigating lately. Admittedly, he was planning a few experiments here and there, but those were mostly summoning-based, demon deal loopholes and so on. He was tying to figure out a way of getting Thalia and Ezekiel their old bodies back. It was infuriating work, he didn't dare summon up the entity they'd originally made a deal with, at least, not until he had more information so he was working with mid-level demons and some of the milder nameless horrors. So far, he'd come up with nothing. Either way, it wasn't anything the Society would want him to be investigated for.

"I have no interest in raising zombies, though you're free to look around. If I'm being honest, the sub-basement is where I do most of my work. It's kitted out for summoning and re-animation, but the most re-animation I've done since building the place is a few rodent skeletons to keep in practice.Anyway, I can show you, if you like." Infusing the old skeleton with the original soul of the mouse was delicate work, arguably more skillful than re-animating zombies, but again, nothing to be concerned over. "I don't know why anyone would be creating zombies just to let them roam around like that. It's definitely concerning."

Rexus smiled at the compliment, partly because he appreciated, and partly because it wasn't being treated as suspicious.  Maverick was very different to the necromancers he was used to working with, who were generally very somber and professional. "Thanks. It's for my other branch of work, which I imagine is out of your jurisdiction." Reapers were normally associated with Gods, and Gods, Rexus imagined, were something the society would deal with only reluctantly.

Apparently he had a sense of humor too. Although, knowing that someone had demanded that he help with the investigation rankled. He hadn't shown it much here, but Rexus could stand on his own two feet as far as power went. He wasn't a trainee that was expected to earn his keep. But still, someone was upsetting the balance, in more ways than one it was his duty to help. "You'll have to tell your superior that in future, if he wants my help he'll have to request it. But, in this case, I'll be happy to assist you in your investigation."

He paused. "Oh, if you want to check out the sub-basement first, I can show you that and once you're convinced I'm not summoning undead hordes we can be on our way?" It wasn't as if, after all, he had anything better to do.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

Maverick nodded a bit, and sighed. "I guess I'd better. Siath... excuse me, Master Siath... would have my head as a soccer ball if I didn't make at least an attempt to investigate you. Provided the old codger even plays soccer nowadays, instead of sitting in his dusty, stuffy office, talking to other dusty, stuffy skeletons. By which I mean the Society. I believe you, but they'll want proof."

The boy stood up, and held up a finger. "We don't have to go down there, although I'd love to after the investigation is over. I can perform a quick Search right here, if you'll permit. I know all the sigils already."

What he was talking about wasn't exactly low-level magic. To perform one of those, you had to memorize at least one-thousand sigils, and know which one to use for the kind of magic you were looking for, as well as what to add to it to bring you the results you need. Maverick was talking at least 10th level symbology, and he was treating it as though it was no big deal.

"Oh, and.... I might ask you to bind me one of those rats." he said, grinning. "I've been wanting a pet. I could bind the skeleton with metal, and that would make a kick-ass pet, don't you think?"

Once again... metal binding wasn't Acolyte-level magic. Metal had a very irritable, violent type of magic, and it took a steady hand, hard focus, and a strong mind to control it. None of which, this boy of younger years looked like he could handle... although he seemed to know exactly what he was doing - at least in talk.

[Mousen]

Rexus nodded in understanding his word didn't carry much weight in those circles. They used to, but that was in another time and another place altogether. Perhaps it was about time he went through his archive of academic papers and published the backlog? It might keep the Society off of his back, especially if he made a nice donation of the profits. "I understand. Whatever you need, Acolyte Maverick." He assumed that the other man had his file, and so, had his name. There was no point in unnecessary introductions.

He was a little young to be performing that kind of magic, wasn't he? Someone who could do that at such a young age definitely deserved to be more than an acolyte. What was the society playing at? Rexus was about to agree to the search, when he remembered something and an expression of panic clouded his face. "Ah. Not that I have an aversion to a Search in principle... but the sub-basement is heavily warded. It's probably why you didn't notice it the moment you stepped through the door. Due to past events, I was a little excessive." Which wasn't at all suspicious, not at all. "It's sealed with thirteen sigils within thirteen sigils and a pint of my own blood. I'm not even going to begin to go into the other charms and wards."

It was ridiculous, and Rexus knew it. He'd spent weeks designing the wards, digging up esoteric protection spells, and then had contracted the best and brightest mages, witches, and elementals to add their own protections spells to the mix. That was without the anti-scrying charms or anything else he'd implemented. It was probably better warded than some of the Society's more dangerous rooms. After all this time he was still a little paranoid."You could try, but I couldn't guarantee the results. The wards might react... unfavorably."

He pulled back one of the rugs, revealing a small hatch set into the parquet floor. It wasn't exactly hidden, but you wouldn't have noticed it at first glance. And yet again, he was talking about things that shouldn't be part of his skill-set. Curious. "I think I may have one lying around somewhere, like I said, I use them to keep in practice." The small hatch lead to set of wooden stairs, which, seemed to lead into the more functional part of the house. Rexus gestured for Maverick to go first.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

Maverick did go first, but he drew in the air in front of him, a complicated personal warding sigil, with emphasis on the third-eye, heart, and grounding. Not exactly Acolyte-level stuff. The Society must have a reason to keep him at that level, if he had already mastered those complicated spells. But what reason? Once he was suffused in a gentle purple glow, that slowly vanished. As long as there was nothing overtly-hostile in the basement that wanted to cause him physical harm... he'd be protected from head to toe from anything of mystical or psychic influence.

Of course, he also had a bit of little-boy excitement left, because what he made a beeline for was the cage with a rat-skeleton in it. "Oooo! Are these them? Dang..."

He drew another massively complicated sigil, meant to reveal magical techniques... which was generally reserved for Masters... and it glowed bright yellow for a moment, giving Maverick all the information he needed. His eyes went wide.

"You can DO that with a previously-departed soul? You have to teach me. You know, after... the investigation and all of that."

[Mousen]

Rexus watched the young man with interest. What a curious thing. It seemed strange for the society to be wasting someone so talented on petty lessons, unless he'd gotten into some hot water with his superiors. Even then, it seemed impossible that someone wouldn't have shown him a little mercy somewhere. By all accounts, he should have been higher ranked than an acolyte.

The stairs descended into a large round basement, lit with electric lights. It was homely enough, split into a simple kitchen and living area, and what was presumably a bedroom and a bathroom behind the closed door. Rexus smiled as Maverick made a beeline for the rat. "The idea is to integrate the soul with the body, rather than bind one to the other. That way, the soul can't be dismissed and the only way to dismantle the spell is to destroy the skeleton." When raising undead hordes, it paid to ensure they couldn't be destroyed with a wave of the hand. Rexus remembered receiving such advice from his grandfather many years ago, and despite having no use for it, it was ingrained in his mind.

Rexus lifted one of the flagstones on the floor, again realizing how paranoid he looked. Necromancers as a whole were generally secretive, living in fear that another practitioner would steal their life's work, or else attempt to be rid of the competition. Rexus realized that to Maverick, he must seem the epitome of that, and he felt rather foolish. It would be difficult to explain to someone he'd just met the precise reasons why he was so cautious, it was the culmination of a lifetime of mortal peril and extreme misfortune. Plus, he'd always been over cautious. He gestured for Maverick to follow him, the strength of the wards heavy in the air as he descended the ladder.

The room was smaller than the two above, with a work bench to one side, with shelves of equipment above it, and boxes of equipment below it. There was a book case set into the wall next to it, and what looked like an old operating table pushed up against the wall on the other side of the room. In the centre, set into the floor was a copper pentagram, with intricate silver symbols inlaid along the edge. Everything seemed to be in place save for a book open on the floor, and a notepad next to it. The book seemed to be a treatise, partly philosophical, partly scientific on the differences between nameless horrors and demons, while the notebook was closed, but the cover splattered with ink.

Rexus turned to his companion and shrugged. "Well, here we are. Look around all you want. You might find a few morally repugnant necromancy books on the shelves, but those are out of academic interest rather than practical instruction." The acolyte would find them anyway, he might as well be open about it. Besides, that way, he might fail to realize that a couple of those "morally repugnant" volumes were ones Rexus had penned during a particularly misguided time in his youth. "But, whatever you choose to believe, it's clear I haven't reanimated anything other than rats in months."

[Rainbowfox Ari]

"I can certainly see that." Maverick agreed, looking around the smaller room with interest. If he didn't miss his mark, some of these books were hand-written, and there was a very short list of people Mav liked for the author of them. That bore thinking about, but not really paying attention to. After all, the Society didn't particularly care about writers of the forbidden arts. Just practitioners. He drew a quick little sigil in the air, and studied it for a moment after it went black, and fell to the floor as dust - which quickly disappeared. A ninth-level warding spell with mild emphasis on the brain and with special attention to the heart. Similar to the one he'd drawn upstairs, but this one was severely focused. It also didn't have any particular draw to the little room they were standing in... no, that was a personal protection sigil. Gods only knew what for.

"Whelp, I'm satisfied you aren't any cult leader." Maverick said, chuckling. "Although some of these books are pretty dang interesting." he snuck in - letting him know that he'd noticed the name and handwriting, but wasn't planning on saying anything about it.

[Mousen]

Rexus's eyes flickered towards Maverick's, trying to work out if his comment had any particular intention behind it. The books could be burnt or thrown away, he supposed, if worst came to worst, but despite the terrible content of the books they represented years of his life spent researching and compiling. He'd never attempt the spells written in there again, he found them repugnant, but some parts of them were reusable and he'd found that they could be useful in other scenarios. If at all possible, Rexus would have liked to avoid their destruction.

Maverick didn't seem to be suggesting anything other than the fact he knew Rexus was the author. He'd made no move to confiscate them. "I had a misguided youth," he offered, by way of explanation. "I'm working on a few more useful projects at the moment." He'd penned a few papers since, but nothing on the scale that he'd worked when he was younger. He'd had many other duties to attend to since and things had gotten pushed back. It wasn't like it was a priority anyway.

"Anyway, speaking of cult leaders, I believe you wanted me to help you find one?" Rexus asked, not wishing to waste too much time.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

"Ah! Right! Cult leaders! Sorry, I almost got carried away there." Maverick chuckled, and executed another quick ward without even seeming to think about it. He did it so fast it was difficult to catch the fact that it was another personal protection ward - strong emphasis on the heart, nothing else. Once that faded away, he turned back around, and started up the stairs once more.

"Alright! We have some teenage-zombie-rebellion shit to put down." he said, motioning with his hands. "C'mon. I'll brief you about what we know on the way over to the school. Which, incidentally, is where all the zombies are gathering. Oh... and you might want to bring a weapon. Something able to unbind souls. I've heard that these are pretty shoddy in that regard. They can't be dismissed with a wave - but with the right application of the right weapon, and a few charms, they're pretty easy to subdue."

[Mousen]

Rexus followed the young acolyte, closing the trapdoors behind him as they headed up to the top floor of Rexus's home. By this point, he'd given up feeling bad both about the amount of stairs he was inflicting upon his fellow necromancer and the current state of his home. Especially the top floor, which, as always, was a mix between stacks of books, and sofas with blankets flung over them. The book which he'd been reading was laid open on one of the sofas.

"Sure," he said nodding, and then his expression shifted slightly. Rexus fought to keep it looking neutral, although he feared he'd settled on suspicious instead. Of course, it could easily be co-incidence, of course. It just seemed all too convenient. The young man was brilliant, prodigal for his age, it was not out of the realms of possibility that he'd realized about the scythe, he had, after all mentioned it earlier. Although, whether or not he'd realized Rexus's other profession (other than world-weary academic) was another thing entirely. He was probably pretty suspicious to begin with, a reclusive necromancer who refused to participate in even the most simple of collective endeavors as far as his fellow practitioners were concerned. What was one more black mark against him? "I'll be glad to know a bit more about what we're up against," Rexus added, after he realized he'd been a bit too quiet.

Rather than have it materialize into his hand (which was more drama than Rexus could stand for at the minute), he walked over to where it was leaning and picked it up. It shrunk down and he dropped it into the pocket of his jeans. His coat, a heavy black number with a high collar (what else?) and his shoes (sturdy black boots) had been haphazardly thrown onto one of the stacks of books by the door. He didn't take long to get sorted, and casting a glance into the small mirror hung on the sides of one of the bookshelves he walked out into the rain, gesturing for Maverick to follow.

"Don't you think it's funny," he said, "that most necromancers look like they've already died the once themselves?" Evidently Rexus was referring to his own less than healthy pallor.