GingerNut: He scowls and crushes the remains of his cigarette against the harsh bark of a nearby tree. "Two of you in there then are there?" He seems quite hostile to the fact you have multiple personalities, though doesn't seem likely to attack you for it. "So this other you, the thief, s'he have a name? Thieves tend to know each other." No use hiding the fact now, this thing knew he'd taken the mask. In the back of his mind Caravaggio mulled over his options should the thing attack him...climbing a tree was not his idea of a fun time.

Matthieu: "Oo, can't die eh, that must be nice." He chuckles. "I had an immortal 'friend' before actually, she was a twat." So the deer-thing finds him interesting does it, well how bout that. Frankly, there were more interesting places, more comfortable places too, than this forest but the things here had such nice things. He just had to stay a bit longer. "Not to call you a twat by association or anything, I'm sure there are immortals who are decent."

Arriving at one particular tree, notable only in the fact that it is exactly two hundred paces from the largest cross of the ruins, he stops. Hunching down the ferns at the base of the tree rustle, he is obviously trying to recover something from his hiding place. "It might be nice to have an uncomplicated friend here. Never had a deer-friend before, might be worth a shot."

MickKreiger: "Mm secrets tend to only cause trouble the moment they stop being so secret. Take the good doctor who came up with the secret to being invisible, if he'd just kept his mouth shut he'd have been laughing. Easy enough to disappear but no, he had to blab about it."

GingerNut" "Hm, hmhmhm." He taps a finger against his chin. "Jergens Paxton Foster, can't say I've heard of him. S'he not like me knowing his name, I take it? Or was it the mask that's got his knickers in a knot?" With the traitorous cigarette extinguished and with soft grass underfoot, Caravaggio was confident that he was once again indistinguishable. Except for his voice of course. Friend! Haha, a sense of humor, I like that. As for guilt, it's rather hard to garner fame if you never take any credit. I must say, that mask is one of my finer snatches, right of your, er, Jergen's face I suppose I'd say." If Jergens was the angry one, that might make this Friend character the Jackle of the relation. Caravaggio had to be sure, til then, he'd keep one eye on them both and another on his way out.

GingerNut: He suppressed a laugh. Even if Friend was telling the truth, he would still have to give up the mask. "No deal. Here's a better one, one that won't leave me empty handed. You" He gestures an invisible hand. "tell me a one secret that Jergens doesn't want me to know, then I'll give you the mask." He smiles, a salesman grin. It's been quite a while since he had someone to barter with. "How's that for a bargain?"

GingerNut: It wouldn't be much of a theft if Jergens allowed it...but he supposed that would have to do. "Alright then, you have a little chit-chat with Jergens and see what juicy little tidbit he's willing to part with." He had to admit, he could get used to this 'fine businessman' stuff.

The woman's silver eyes flickered in the firelight as her sharp memory recalled her childhood. She dug up her ancient German accent. "I was born in Nürnberg Germany in sixteen-eleven. Born into nobility, I was taught well and excelled in every subject." she smiled, turning to him. "As you might have guessed, it didn't take long for me to chop off my long golden hair and look for something... a bit more exciting. I teamed up with a small group of homeless rascalls, only two of which were older than I; at fifteen and sixteen. I lived with them for a month, stealing, picking locks, and running."

She shook her head at the memory. "I'd've done it differently now. I wouldn't have been caught, and brought back to my parents; who were mortified at my dirt-caked appearance." Bones took a moment to take a long wooden churchwarden pipe from the mantle, and stuff it with a sweet cherry tobacco. With two matches she lit it up the bowl and puffed slowly, the smoke dancing from her red lips. "And so began the first of my many window escapes. Thanks to the Pegnitz river --which cut through the city-- I boarded a merchant vessel headed for Delft." The woman took another draw off her dark wooden pipe, dropping her German accent. "But if you're looking for a dramatic escape via window, I've certainly had my share. I was captured by a ship in Her Majesty's Service, early in my privateering career. They never expected I'd take a flying leap through the captain's cabin window, after being brought before him. I'd never have done it if I was miles from land, but one island or another was in view, and I lost them in the flora quickly."

_{"I'll disappear someday. but I cannot die"}

he smiled, laughing softly.


_{"I've been called worse things"}

he said simply, following, pausing when the other kneels to look through the ferns, ears pricking upwards.


_{"likewise, human company will be nice"}

even if he was invisible.

"Understood~" he smiled, though there was a hint of irritation in it. He hadn't expected the thief to comply... but he certainly couldn't do anything now. Friend had no choice but to trot over to the river, head held high as he carelessly splashed across the thin stream.
Nose to the ground, he spied a small bit of dark brown leather poking out from under a small stone. Nosing the rock to it's side, he tugged out the mask, turning it over so that he could carefully fit it on his face.
If the thief had been watching, he'd see a difference just from the stag's body posture. Upon having the mask re-pasted to his face, his shoulders seemed to slump down. He stood there for a moment, seeming to compose himself before he started back to the clearing, head hung. Though despite his body language protraying a more melancholic disposition, he had a small, mildly threatening grin curled up his lips. The only real remnant of what the stag once was.
"I can get takin' things from people..." he mumbled, his voice a deep, husking sort of drone. "Hell... I once did it myself... and now I'm on the recievin' end. How the mighty have fallen, right?" he shook his head, staring up at nothing in particular, eyes dulled over as if with tears. Even the littlest thing upset him nowadays.
"I like equal trades though... whaddya want to know?" he asked, spitting out the question like a a curse word.

GingerNut: Oddly enough this Jergens character didn't seem blood-thirsty or brute-like...and the deer still looked the same as he had before. No monstrous shift, at least not that Caravaggio could see. "Hm, this Friend character...he can hear us I assume?" This might be a golden opportunity to learn more about multi-minded freaks; there was no passing a chance like that up! "How exactly did you end up with a whole second person in your brain. That, Mr. Jergens is what interests me. For a start."

MickKreiger: "Oh that? Just a little trick I picked up. I find it more interesting to deal with people mano-a-mano." He chuckles. "Not permanent though, at least not that I know of." In truth Caravaggio had no idea how the disconnection worked, only that sometimes creatures would wake up here in his forest and upon falling asleep, would disappear as mysteriously as they had arrived.

The masked stag grimaced at the question. If there was one topic he didn't like getting into, it was Friend... mainly because Jergens knew little to nothing about him. For all he knew, Friend was someone that existed to make his life miserable.
"I could hear ya... so it can hear ya too..." he simply replied, his tone like a teacher talking to a slow student. "And don't call me 'Mr.', yeah? I'm not old." he scoffed, shaking his head. "And I dunno... It just kinda..." he paused, opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it.
"It just kinda came up"
When it 'came up', that was when everything went wrong, and Jergens didn't like to talk about when everything went wrong.

"T'is...chaotic," Nathaniel answered in his usual manner the first adjective that came to mind was always chaotic. "The deer in there vary so intensely, and the very geography sometimes seems contradictory...and it seems to work under an infinite loop of itself....it's all very interesting to me. The people within vary as much as people anywhere I suppose...perhaps more so than in some places. You cannot look at someone and take reasonable guesses....well...there are certain trends I suppose. Skulled deer often are more aggresive, deer with short antlers more likely to be more passive...but not always the case." He explained in a rambling tone of voice.

(Sorry everyone, but I won't have time to respond to these until later this week after I'm done my exams!)

MickKreiger: "So it isn't just me! I knew this place was playing tricks on me...can walk forever in circles, tricky thing this place." He takes a moment, genuinely confused. "Skull-faced? Like, no-faced? creepy! S'that...normal?" Caravaggio could be colored intrigued, that much was certain. He wondered if it would be smart to check this forest out. Who knows, there might be some interesting characters...with even more interesting valuables!

GingerNut: Caravaggio snickered quietly to himself, this Jergens was far less the dapper word-smith than Friend, but that gave him a more honest, thread-bare sort of charm. "I'm sure you've realized that the fire isn't so quick round here. I don't get many visitors, fewer who are willing to talk and even less who limit themselves to a civil chit-chat. S'a lot of mooing, actually...impossible to understand." He waved a hand, swatting the thought away. "But the secret; what I want from you is anything you think is worth the return of your dear mask.

GingerNut: ("So ya just take stuff cause yer lonely?" fffff I'm laughing so hard. The exams were ok, passed the one I needed to desperately at least. Nice of you to ask! c:)

Caravaggio was tempted for a moment to explain exactly why he stole, Jergens was a thief...no, he was a pickpocket. He wouldn't understand. "Didn't quiiiiite catch that last oh-so-important bit there Jergers. Speak up!" He chuckled excitedly, now this was getting interested!

The stag grimaced, clenching his eyes shut as he put on a mask of indifference, completely unreadable.
"I fergot to give my mate a funeral." he repeated, spitting out each word with a morbid sort of bluntness.
He was rarely so clear was it came to subjects that bothered him. Even with close friends he always refused to talk about things that bothered him.

((Excellent~ C: ))

That little comment stung more than it really helped, and the red stag visibly winced at it before lowering his head a bit, as if in shame.
"Not much of a secret... but here's an added bonus that a lot of other folks don't know to clear the clouds a bit; I was a human once before I kicked the bucket and got hauled off to this hellhole." he mumbled, his tone more nostalgic than sorrowful or poignant.
"The funny thing is... my mate was my friggen roommate too. Hell, we were both people." he continued on, not really caring whether or not the invisible thief really cared. Frankly... it was nice just to let out some pent-up emotions.
"I guess it is kinda weird hearin' an ex-person say weird deer words like 'mate', right?" he added in thoughtfully, keeping his gaze upwards as if he was talking to a confessional. "But ya kinda have to when there aren't that many other deer round here like me that use words like 'husband' or partner'." he shrugged carelessly, then fell silent.

GingerNut: How did one turn into a deer...he didn't remember hearing anything about deer in heaven or hell...unless there was a new testament he'd missed. Not likely. "Sooo, you died? Touchy subject, sorry but how exactly does that...happen? I mean one minute you're pushing up daisies the next you've got hooves and a tail?!" This, he had to hear. This Jergens thing had to be putting him on.

MickKreiger: "Hehe you and me both buddy." Caravaggio remembered his own pleasurable time at the all girls school, felt like forever ago now. "Meh, I can understand the lovey-dovey I guess, most of the deer I've met have been rather sentimental. Attachment makes for interesting things." He gestured a sleeve at the pendant. If someone didn't care about anyone else they didn't care enough to carry something to remind them...most of his most memorable snatches had come in the form of those hoodwinked memories.

The stag thought for a moment, lips pursing as he flicked his eyes heaven-ward.
"How the hell am I supposed to know? I ain't the guy upstairs." he finally asked. "What? Don't believe me?" he tilted his head to the side. "Born in Brooklyn. Died... in some random state that probably wasn't New York. Hell if I know... I never really bothered payin' attention to where I was goin'... Couldn't read to begin with." he tagged on, wondering if that would be good enough for the... disembodied voice to believe.

"Fair enough," Nathaniel answered. "I assume that when you leave, deer shall return to being nearby me?" He asked as the man walked away. He doubted that with this man gone that people would remain away, but you never knew, stranger things had been seen by his ancient eyes.

Track.

Celticmystress: (eee :'D How have you been! I feel bad for nagging you about this rping, I understand you must be busy.)

The offer is so amazingly tempting, so many promises in that little silver trinket. 'Would she really let me keep it?' He wonders, can't help but think of the hidden threat. The watch had belonged to a man, that man had become 'a problem'...Caravaggio mused if becoming a problem would be worth it. Worth her.
"'Catch up' isn't code for 'shank me in the liver at a later date' is it?" He laughs. "Noo, no. You can have your locket after-all, I keep promises to pretty women." Shrugging out of the jacket he stands and a few moments later the window creaks open under invisible fingers.

He'd discovered the nail while waiting for her to return to the house and on a whim, enjoying the mood of it, had hung the watch from it. Outside the room, where she could spend hours looking for it and never see it, too high to be seen from the ground. Perfect. Snapping the window closed and cursing the winter air, he sways the silver bobble back and forth like a pendulum as he returns to stand beside the fireplace.
"As promised, I've got your stories, you get your watch back." He holds it out for her to take. "Though...I wouldn't be adverse to a little 'catch-up' should circumstances rise and paths cross?" For all the casual suave there is a boyish apprehension to the way he asks it. Something he'd be kicking himself for later.

((Haha that's fine I don't mind, I'm actually too busy to reply to this at the moment. School is keeping me on the ropes, but this weekend or early next week hopefully things will have calmed down enough for me to drag Caravaggio back. He seems to have wandered off at some point.))

((That's alright! You waited a thousand times longer for me! (: ))

The woman let his words hang in the air uncomfortably for a few seconds longer, and then stood, turning to face him. Slowly her silver eyes travelled to the doors branching off from the parlor, each was shut tightly and locked securely with both outdated and modern equipment. She favored some rooms over others. One may be filled completely with sentimental items that may or may not hold monetary value, the other doors may contain both treasures and secrets; in dusty archival boxes, display shelves and items under glass. Decades of events lost in her memory, but permanent, living forever behind closed doors. Much, she was not interested in sharing.

Finally releasing her gaze from the doors, she looked back at him. With a wave of her hand she motions to the locked rooms nonchalantly. "Even I couldn't tell you what was behind them anymore." Not a [i]complete lie... [/i] As he posed against the arch of the chair, Bones' red lips melted into a grin, eyes alluring and somehow sinister. She crossed the floor, heel to toe, the steps of her boots loud against the oak planks. Her finger traced down the lapel of his jacket as soon as she was close enough. Inching her body painfully closer, slowly...

At the moment she barely makes contact with him, she tugs on his jacket and heads for the stairs leading down from where she entered the house. A flick of the wrist revealed a black iron key pinched between her red talons as she bounds down the stairs. If he was still following he'd see her insert it into the lock of a door at the bottom of the stairs, and click it open. She inched the door open, peeking in, as if expecting to find a sleeping child within.
This she could share.

((Sorry it was so short, I have a whole thing planned but I want to take it in steps for your reaction, rather than making C do things without your consent. Eg. Follow LB into a really dark place. LOL!))

She turns her face as she feels him over her shoulder, her eyes bright, their faces inches apart. She opened the door wider and slipped through, darkness consumed her figure, a pale finger curved to beckon him to follow her. "Come with me."

She smiled to herself through the darkness, to see him follow her, and admired his courage and trust... The heels of her high leather boots would guide the way, and within a handful of paces it was apparent they were walking down a long hallway. The uneven cobblestone path caught her off guard here and there but she never stumbled. Cut grey stone walls held the roof of the tunnel up, and for a moment, she slid her stiletto nails across the stone as she walked; for no reason in particular.

After about thirty seconds of walking, the sound of her gait changed; stairs. One, two, three, four, five... A dozen stairs or so met them, and then the sound of another key being shifted into a lock broke the silence. She opened yet another door, and stepped into the room with a small chuckle. In a flurry of motion the lithe woman pushed aside a number of thick black curtains to reveal glass windows all around them. Outside, trees bare from the frost of winter loomed in the darkness. This circular glass room held a handful of life-size marble sculptures of the finest quality in a protective bubble. Natural light would flood in from all directions, including from above, where a glass dome arched protectively. Tonight it was dark, and the moon's light was barely enough to see anything.

Flipping a hidden switch near where Bones stood, a soft glow of light melted on the bare sculptures. Some lights were hidden above, others below-- all very hard to locate. The atmosphere was very much like a museum. Upon looking around the room, past the statues' marble allure, exhibit cases would be found lining the outside of the round space. The woman motions to the room with an upturned hand. "Like it?" She places her hands behind her back and steps slowly towards him. "They're not mine-- well, that is to say I did not create them." A sparkle in her eye suggests this small building is proof of a darker past.

((As C walks around the room, please feel free to make up whatever could be in those cases/what the sculptures look like and all. You know Bones well enough to create a pretty awesome space here! I have a few ideas, but still it'd be easier for you to write what he encounters rather than mimicking what I say is in the room. Have fun! 8D ))

The siren watches the jacket wander about the room carefully, knowing exactly what he was looking at when he peered into each glass case. When he was occupied with one display, she scanned her statues with critical and admiring, silver eyes. She smirked at his comment, still admiring her statues; "This is all a result of decades of boredom and nothing to lose."

Confident? "Well yes..." she looks around the room to secure that confidence. Nearly everything was hidden from view, regarding security. Bullet-resistant glass encased everything around them, microscopic lasers, decoy cameras in the open, live surveillance inside and outside the building, pressure sensors under the wooden floor they walked on, and under artifacts and art pieces, temperature and humidity regulation thermometers inside the room and inside cases, an infrared camera here and there, smoke detectors, alarms and other various precautions were all wired beneath the floor, under the ground, through the walls of the stone tunnel and into a surveillance room where everything was controlled.

"If anyone could get passed what I have here, they can take anything they want." she chuckled darkly to herself. "But they'd have to be invisible." she added, smirking. Which wasn't entirely true, there would have to be a lot more involved than just invisibility, but she let it go there. She wandered over to a display case that held a violin that appeared to be suspended in mid-air. With a swipe of her finger across a sensor pad beneath the case, it opened slowly. She whisked the violin up, and set it on her shoulder, tuning it carefully with the bow. She began a slow graceful tune, and then watched the jacket again. "Would you like to see anything closer Griffin?" An offer she never extended to anyone. For none had ever been here.