<strong>Back room of the King's Head Pub<br/><br/>Bran</strong><br/><br/>The door leads in to another bar area, though the fridges in here are unstocked and what few glasses are behind the bar are grey with dust.  Presumably the King's Head's few patrons have never necessitated having both room open.<br/><br/>Chairs sit on tables around the edge of the room, cleared out of the way to accommodate the large wooden table that dominates the centre.  Ronald sits in a high backed chair the twin of the one in the room you just left, alone at the head of the table.  A large portrait of a man in some sort of historical garb - Elizabethan? - hangs on the wall behind him.  His granddaughter sits to his right, Mabel to his left while the two other men sit further down the table, spare seats between them and the three at the head.  As when you found yourself standing for his exit, you can't bring yourself to think the arrangement is accidental.  You're greeted by assorted nods and "sit yourself down, lad"s and Ron gestures to a chair far down the table from himself.<br/><br/>"You have any luck with your internetting, lad?"  He doesn't pause for a reply.  "We've had a wee chat while you were searching, like, and decided what the deal is.  I told you I'd be straight with you, but, so that's what I'm going to do.<br/><br/>First, we don't think this is going to last forever.  Your..." he frowns then waves a hand, "you know, lad, your situation.  The details of which escape me at the moment, like.  So there's option one, but.  You might be able to just sit and wait it out.  No idea how long that'll take, like, but I'd be surprised if it was forever.<br/><br/>There's a problem there though lad.  And that's a problem we're gaun it on a few times like.  Someone went to a load of effort to do this, and there's nae guarantee that this is the final stage.  Fact, we reckon its not.  Difficult to see how making..." he snorts laughter "...how doing whatever it was that happened is a goal in itself, like.  Figure its the first stage of something, not the last.  So sitting it out could well find yourself getting into something deeper and deeper.<br/><br/>So your second option, and the one I prefer, like.  And that's to look in to this more.  I don't like people messing with my realm and me and mine will help you if that's what you decided to do.  Truth is, we'll struggle to investigate it without you, lad, for reasons discussed.  Problem with that option, and this is me being straight with you, is this.  Someone put a shit load of work into doing this and I divvint want to be declaring war without knowing who I'm declaring war on, but.  So for the start, my help will be below the radar, like, you with me?  Until we know a bit more about what's gaun on.<br/><br/>You got a third, and that's to look in to it without my help.  Divvint like that option for obvious reasons, and I reckon it'll be hard for you, like.  But its there."<br/><br/>He breaks in to another coughing fit for a moment and waves away concerned looks from both sides of him.<br/><br/>"Anyway, lad.  If you work for me you'll be working by and large with Rachel here and it'll be her that'll explain what's gaun on.  Just so as you know, like.<br/><br/>You got any questions?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Between Unit 16 and Unit 18, Fergusons Street<br/><br/>Nova</strong><br/><br/>He jumps as you address him and wipes at his face angrily, embarrassed at you seeing him "blubbering".<br/><br/>"Look."  He has a nice middle class accent to go with his clothing, clipped vowels and careful pronunciation.  Probably from Newcastle, but barely a trace of an accent.  "It's not a good time right now pet.  Just fuck off yeah?"<br/><br/>He turns away then suddenly turns back to face you.  "Wait!  Wait, I'm sorry.  But, you can see me?  And you know the building's gone?  Oh thank Christ for that."  For a moment you think he's going to start crying again, this time in relief.<br/><br/>"Fuck, you wouldn't believe the day I'm having.  OK.  Look.  You win.  You made your fucking point.  I won't..."  he looks down at his feet, the gesture reminds you of a teenage boy summoning up the courage to ask a girl out.<br/><br/>"Fuck it.  Yeah, I won't go to the interview.  You win.  But whatever it is you've done, pet, just please..." he buries his head in his hands and you think he's started crying again.  "Just put me back."<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Nova</div><div class="spoiler_body">Give me a mind check please.  Shout up in the other thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=181829.150) if you're not sure how[/url]</div></div>