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He deliberated some between Beauregard and Greta. There was... perhaps, a measure of unwillingness to bring his progeny into this, even if she likely would not judge him too obviously. An old man still had his pride.

Incoming call from Osvald

@Beauregard Bertrand

Curious, curious.

Evening, Osvald.

A simple answer, warmly spoken, but with some obvious hint of questioning as well.

Ah, good evening, Dominus.

Technicalities aside, best get used to the terminology now.

I'm afraid I've had a bit of an embarrassing incident over in the Hollow. If you might be available, I would greatly appreciate your help.


Dominus. Hardly, but were he a cat, he'd be purring.

I hardly pegged you as the troublemaker of the group.

A tease without scolding. But, sincerely, what on earth could Osvald have gotten himself into? The man could scarcely walk, and it was so fresh after the new moon. He rose from his desk, gathering his keys and wallet in preparation for leaving.

Tell me what it is I can do to help, and I will be there as swiftly as possible.


A sheepish hum, though overall, he was grateful to hear graciousness and not anger.

Osvald spoke quietly, not wanting to rouse anyone who might be in their rooms or awake at this hour. Neither did he want Cris to hear him, so hopefully she was off in the restroom as she said she would be.

There is the matter of a... recently deceased man in this hotel hallway. I was startled into an unsavory sort of state, and he unfortunately found me. I've managed to convince the help of a story, but I am uncertain of what to do with him.


Beauregard was not, truly, a man who had great experience handling corpses. He frowned.

Are there cameras, where you are? Any witnesses beyond the deceased?

It could all be handled, but he certainly hoped it not to be something of a habit of Osvald’s.

No witnesses aside from the maid. And the psychic I fed from, who... will say nothing.

A pause to peer at either end of the hall.

I cannot see any cameras.


He hummed. The psychic was lucky to be alive, Beauregard would estimate, and likely now in possession of fewer memories than they’d once had.

Keep the area free of others for now, as you can. Let me know precisely where you are. I can easily convince some other gentleman to make the body his responsibility. Keep the maid close until I have a description you can convince her to corroborate.


-opens mouth and static that will sound like the hotel address in Magic Hollow comes out.- Thank you, Dominus. I had fed her another story, that he had attacked me, but if you think that is best, I will admit my judgment is rather outdated.


Beauregard nodded sagely to the static.

It is best to remove all ties to yourself. There is much... legal misery in a self defense case.

He smiled some at the thought. Ancient, feeble Osvald likely ripping a man’s throat out in self defense.

Stay near your phone. I will update you shortly.

As Osvald would let him, Beauregard would end the call and take to a trusty set of wings outside.

What would follow, well.

It was not very nice.

Beauregard knew this, certainly. But he had never been one to feel great regret over the affairs of strangers.

Landing as a bird in an alleyway near the hotel some minutes after the phone call, he spotted a young man, perhaps in his late twenties. Handsome, drunk, smoking a cigarette. There was no easier person to terrorize for Beauregard than a younger, handsome man, save perhaps a younger, pretty woman.

He struck the drunk once in the face, hard enough to leave some bruising, but not enough to break a nose.

The man swung back, stunned, but the vampire was faster. It was a dance until, finally, the drunk punched the wall, bloodying his fingers on the brick.

That would be enough for Beauregard to pause and convince the unlucky gentleman that he, quite intentionally, had murdered a man outside a room upstairs. It would be best to take care of it before the police arrived and found him out.

And, of course, he would need to forget Beauregard ever spoke to him.

The suggestions went easily, a drunk human making for a very susceptible target. Sending the boy off in a rush of fear, the vampire watched him go with a wistful sort of smile. Poor, unlucky fellow. He took his phone out next, hoping that Osvald knew how to check his text messages.

Convince the maid to have seen a drunk Hispanic male in his twenties murder the man. If you can , be sure she does not report the crime until tomorrow. I would recommend staying in your room fora time. The drunk will like lybe attempting to hide the body within the next few minutes and I cannot imagine he will do so smoothly.

Beauregard could only guess as to what the boy would do with a corpse in a hotel hallway, and frankly his heart ached a little not to be able to watch and find out. Perhaps he could ask Osvald later for a play-by-play.

He would enter the lobby only long enough to request a manager, then convince the kind older woman to be sure to wipe any video collected at the end of the night.

Quite awkwardly, the suggestion did fail the first time, garnering him a fairly incredible glare, but Beauregard was lucky to correct it on his second attempt.

Unless you require further assistance , I would rather refrain from coming up to the hotel. I have taken care of the manager

In the end, even as Osvald called him dominus, Beauregard did value his own safety first.

The instruction arrived via text, and it was a long message to read for an old man on a small old cellphone. Alas. He decided against texting back, considering he only had a few minutes to work with.

One final thing as Steven drove him home.

Incoming call from Osvald


The call would ring for a considerable time before Beauregard answered, distracted as he was by a meal of convenience.

All went well?

He could only hope, but it was difficult to tell with a phone call.

He was prepared to leave a voicemail, but then there was a response. It was difficult to judge if it had been a bad time to call or not.

Yes. I apologize for not texting, old fingers make it difficult. But it is done. I cannot thank you enough, Dominus.


Dominus, dominus, dominus. He enjoyed it more each and every time. Osvald was likely too old to mistake Beauregard for the sort of man with a humble nature.

He would not correct the other vampire on his absent title.

No need to apologize. It’s only out of greatly reluctant necessity that I manage it myself, to be truthful.

In the end, Beauregard was appreciative of Osvald’s bumbling. Fixing the problem would leave the “dominus” endeared to the old man, and likely Greta as well.

The Clutch will be finalized within the coming weeks. We are renovating Mountainside Planetarium as something of a home base. I dare say an improvement from a night club.


The understanding was kind where texting was concerned. He listened to the rest.

That will be lovely, and far better fitting. I am looking forward to seeing it, soon or after it is ready.

He thumbed at his cane, the faint scent of blood that still lingered on it. The wood would likely remain stained.

Beauregard would take praise wherever he found it.

Soon, soon. Do let me know if you are in need of anything else. I can only hope the rest of your evening is a more peaceful affair.

For Beau's sake more than anything.

No, no, I am done troubling you for the night.

A chuckle.

Thank you again, Dominus.

Time to put an old man to bed.

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