sip sip.

[gallowsbait]

Here's the thing, whatever Greyjay is accused of doing, he sure as sugar did not do it. That's what's so galling, really. If he'd been caught by some collection of half-wits over his own mistake, that would be embarrassing, but well deserved.

Instead? He's been trussed up and tossed down a set of storm doors and into a root cellar. Chuckles and the rest of his boys have promised to deal with him tomorrow when his boss(???????) gets there. Of course, he doesn't have a boss, they have the wrong man, and this is going to get very messy, very fast unless he can find a way out of this miserable, too dark, unfinished basement.

Comments

[unwillingdevil]

It's not long before there's another person there. What's odd is how quietly he enters. There's a space in the shadows that's empty and then suddenly there's someone there, tall and pale and blonde, eyes bright as they stare down at him on the cellar floor.

"Well, well, well," he says, his voice a low purr. "What have we hear now?"

[gallowsbait]

Greyjay turns to look at the other man in the cellar. He looks him over once, a bit cool in his expression, before he smiles and looks sheepish. Ducking his head, he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, "Uh, hi. Sorry about the...all this?"

He's a bit beat up around the edges and clearly fought a bit when he was brought in.

"And what you have is a Greyjay. Not that you have me, exactly, but this room does, I guess?"

[unwillingdevil]

For a second, Lestat doesn't seem to be listening. His eyes are wide and slightly glazed, looking him over as if sizing him up.

And then he is all smiles, his voice smooth and charming. "No apologies necessary. After all, you were simply delivered to this place, oui? Dragged in without any pretense, I assume."

[gallowsbait]

Greyjay looks and acts perfectly human. Lestat might be able to tell, or maybe smell it off him, that there's something odd. Or maybe he was just dragged through a bunch of wet leaves and earth on the way into the cellar? Hard to say for sure.

"Ouais, m'sieur.. They said that they were going to go get my boss, but they've got their facts wrong." He has an odd French accent, but it's perfectly understandable if very slangy.

[unwillingdevil]

"Ah, a terrible misunderstanding, then," Lestat says, almost flippantly. The man in front of him certainly has the scent of human blood on him, thudding under skin. His eyes and nails show no hint of the Dark Gift, which makes him a most appealing meal indeed.

"Unless, of course, they meant someone else. Someone else in charge of you, perhaps."

[gallowsbait]

"The only person I answer to is elsewhere, and I know she'll come looking, but not yet." Greyjay wrinkles up his nose in annoyance and looks about for somewhere to sit down. If he's going to be stuck here for a little while, he might as well relax.

"What about yourself?"

[unwillingdevil]

"Oh, I am merely a wanderer in search of a good meal," Lestat answers smoothly. It's not entirely a lie, and that amuses him enough to quirk a smile. "It's dark enough down here that I thought I'd simply have to wait here until I could fetch something."

"But then, instead, you arrived here."

[gallowsbait]

"...right." Well, that's somewhat troubling. Greyjay would've preferred a nice, straight-forward answer about why someone else is in the cellar, but it looks as if fortune isn't about to smile for him.

What else is new.

"You interested in trying to get outta here?"

[unwillingdevil]

"Oh, I should be able to get out of here without too much trouble," he says mildly, glancing back into the darkness of the cellar. "The wooden boards are rotting. And my hands are not bound."

"Unlike yours," he adds, his gaze fixing all-too-intently on the other man.