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Third Host: Mefathiel and Ezra

June 16, 2008

Mefathiel helped Ezra into the elevator despite Ezra’s protests. It required a key-code to rise up to the correct floor. Another code and a key opened the door into the apartment itself, which seemed to occupy the top floor.
“I take it business is good?” said Mefathiel, tone disaproving.
“It keeps me further from other people if something goes wrong,” answered Ezra, pulling away from the other man. He walked to a set of sliding doors and pushed them open, walking into a dojo that mirrored his main home, but without his aged armor. All of the weapons here were relatively new. He moved to the center of it, a circle inscribed into the floor, sigils in the cardinal directions. “There is a case by the door with candles, if you don’t mind,” Ezra said as he settled into lotus position on the floor.
“How long do you need?” said Mefathiel, gathering candles and matches. He settled the candles into place, lighting each in turn around the circle.
“Make yourself at home in the other rooms, once I’ve properly centered myself again we can gather weapons and continue,” said Ezra.
Mefathiel smiled wryly and turned to leave Ezra to his meditations, “I’ll manage my own weapons.”
Mefathiel wandered out into the elegantly furnished apartment and settled onto a white couch. He considered a moment, then reached under the couch and produced a brief-case from his office back at home. He opened it and settled a stack of case files onto the coffee table and started back at them, making detailed notes as he worked.

Hours later Ezra emerged from the practice room and crossed over to another room, not interupting Mefathiel’s work just yet. The sound of running water snuck from the other room, washing over Mefathiel’s silence. He sighed a bit and shuffled them back into the briefcase, careful to keep them organized. Before long the shower stopped and not much more time after that before he stepped back out into the room wearing well fitted black silk shirt and slacks. He settled a nice, lightweight suit coat over the top and crossed over to the entertainment center and punched a quick series of buttons on the rediculously intricate stereo. Gears in the floor smoothly hummed to life as it slid aside to reveal a well stocked cabinet of weapons, ranging through melee and ranged.
Mefathiel joined Ezra at the cabinet. Ezra picked up a pair of glocks, slid in clips and then tucked them into shoulder holsters under each arm. A slender knife strapped to each forearm under his shirt. Another on his left ankle and a small hold-out pistol on the other. Extra clips tucked into pockets of the suit coat, carefully sittuated to not strangely weigh down the fabric with obvious bulges. He snagged a long duffle bag off of the shelf nearby and tucked a solid longsword and a sawed off shotgun into it, along with a box of shells and several more clips.
Ezra glanced to Mefathiel. “Sure you don’t want to take something extra?”
Mefathiel glanced over the cabinet and shook his head slightly. “I’ll leave the heavy weapontry to you. Humans have quite the capacity for building weapons, but I will stick with my own.”
Ezra shrugged once and slong the bag over his shoulder, sinching it in to ride comfortably against his back. “Suit yourself. Did you manage to find anything useful before we blew the top off the building?”
“Before you blew the top off the building,” correct Mefathiel, heading for the door. “And I have an address for us to go look into. He wrote on top of the folder on his desk and a little ink bled through. Should lead us toward him quick enough.”
“Somehow I can’t imagine it being that simple,” said Ezra, punching the elevator button.
“Have a little faith,” said Mefathiel.
Ezra just laughed.

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2 comments

  1. I have been looking forward to more Third Host, and am happy to see it. :)


  2. I’ve needed to get back to it. I’ve just been in poetry land for a while :)



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