: An inconvenient truth :

[Enver Marshall II]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Every: Time. It was always a funny thing, Every had thought as she typed away at her laptop in search of more about her father online. Pages and old newspaper clipouts littered her desk, a picture of the man and a seven year old Every wearing a snowsuit holding a snowboard staring back at her as she sighed and set her chin in her palm. Her father had died sometime after that, murdered by the man her mother would later marry and years later, Every would kill herself. She had started with his college life, looking at his alumni and found articles about her family around the time her brother had been born. Every knew a year before she was born, her father moved them to Santa Monica to start anew after receiving a job as a crime journalist for the newspaper.

Carefully stretching out her legs, she tugged at the neon blue ankle sock she wore and peered at the screen past her glasses while reading over the man's obit once more. She had cousins left, she knew that. Her dad's side had always been reclusive, her mother had always told her not to bother with it because of fighting but that didn't make her curious. In fact, it probably made it worse now that she could hack. Inside The Eyrie, Every little concern for anything and with a small sigh escaping past her lips, she turned her attention from the screen to collect her mug that was filled with blood to take a drink just as she twisted in her chair idly. Charles Leighton is survived by his children, She didn't need to see her name printed again, but as she took another drink, Every turned and spat out the metallic, coppery taste at a single name. Enver.

Enver: He had just come back from being dead. Amazing, wasn't it? What was it now? Five, six and still, he came back. He came back stronger than the other times before, the wound on his soul barely felt. He had stopped by her home, and had been teleported out for his antics, but he knew she'd find him again and they would be as they were again before dawn approached. He couldn't blame her really, but she couldn't blame him either, he thought. He had showered and inspected the new wounds he was given before and during the battle that had left scars, shaved and found his way back to his room, changed and looked for his fedora. It was then he realized he had been wearing it. "Well, ****." He'd have to get out his old one or buy a new one. Choices, choices.

Without the fedora, the man went to work quick, sitting behind his desk with his feet kicked up, going through all his emails in the last week. He couldn't help but grin. Even in death, he was still shoving it to the Crow. He moved past everything city related and decided to start typing an email to Every, wanting his possessions back. But he had only gotten so far when he realized he was being antagonistic and usually he wouldn't have cared. However, he had in a way sort of made a promise to himself that he wouldn't leave her like that again. The week had been hell for her and for him, even if he had put up a good show about it for her sake. So, he backspaced everything he had typed out and sat there, confused as to what to type as he rocked back and forth in his chair.

Every: She coughed a few times, trying to clear her airway for a moment before she set her glass off to the side and winced when she was finished. Since when had that name been there? "You haven't exactly looked at the obit in a long time, Every." She closed her eyes for a moment and removed her glasses before peering at the screen once more. Nope. Enver. It still remained. But, it couldn't be the same one, could it? She knew he was from California, though. What was that one Aunt's name? Every pushed away from her computer and got up quickly without thinking about the shrapnel wound in her thigh only to regret it as a sharp tear of pain caused her to flinch. "Well, **** you too." She mumbled before going to get her cellphone, googling the name Enver II and Los Angeles, California. She didn't get what she wanted, and Every glared down at the device before tossing it away to her couch. What was she going to do? It couldn't be him, right? Their number was unlisted. She just had another cousin named Enver and the Enver here wasn't him. Right? That was her tiny bit of optimism for the day and quickly, she limped back to her computer to press 'print' on the obit before going to gather the papers, and her phone. Putting on her boots a moment later, she checked her watch for the time before tossing the file into her bag and heading downstairs, out of The Eyrie towards the theatre.

Enver: He was still sitting there, thinking about this email, but the guy just couldn't come up with something that didn't yank her chain. Or possibly Micah's. He'd settle for ordering a new phone, getting a fedora and cigars could be found anywhere in any of the places he owned. Enver shut the computer off, fed the fish that Hannah hadn't been able to feed because Keara had been holding her hostage for who knew how long? And headed out of his office. He was about to head to the catacombs when he put a finger in the air, turned on his feet and went back to the concession stand he had just passed. "We're getting coke products. **** Pepsi. Make it happen." Finally, balance was restored in the Allurist's life and he could go about making ammends to Keara for his brazen actions earlier tonight.

Every: Adjusting her hold on the bag she had over her shoulder, she stepped into the establishment and ignored the odd looks she received as she stalked past a few employees, ignoring the protest of someone saying Enver was busy before heading to his office. It wasn't like she didn't lurk around there enough to find it, and she had considered placing a few traps behind his desk once or twice just for her amusement. "Marshall!" She shouted as soon as she was in hearing range and removed the folder from her bag, at least, what she hoped was hearing range. Every didn't exactly know how the bullets had pierced his brain anyway. "I need to have a word with you." Actually, she wanted to smack him, but still.

Enver: He wasn't ever called by his last name. Even if he always signed his emails and everything else with his full fledged name. He turned to see who it was and felt his eyes narrow. "Speak of the she-devil." He muttered to himself. "Come to give me my hat and things?" He placed a grin on his face, even if he wasn't happy to see her at all. "Look, I quit that place and I only just got back. So if you're trying to peg **** on me, I've not had the time, and I don't care. I've got other things to do." Like be with a woman who was far too amazing to be with him, really, but he kept that thought to himself. "So, we walking or?" He pointed to the door of his theatre. "Been gone a week. Things to see, people to do. Or is it the other way around?" He chuckled.

Every: She didn't respond, at least, not verbally as she shoved the folder directly into his field of vision. "Does the name Charles Leighton ring a bell?" She didn't care if he had done anything - if he did, well, Tytonidae was Tytonidae. "I'm here on personal business, with you. Read the obit. First page. You might want to sit down." She'd give him his things back when she felt like it, although they were in her bag. At least, some of them were. She didn't know what the hell happened to his fedora - Every actually wondered if it had ended up in the line of fire that her leg had in that last set of traps in Oria's place. "Think back to 1998. That might be a little beneficial to you, if your brain is still scrambled."

Enver: She was shoving things at him and he didn't like it. He didn't give a **** about some guy he never heard of. "Nope. Did I sire him?" He cracked a smart *** grin, then opened the file as she kept yammering on, like he gave a damn. "Yeah, yeah. Come on." He waved a hand in the air, indicating she should follow him to his office. "1998. Were you alive then?" He put the folder down, thinking about the year, but not much came to his mind as he made his way around the desk, claimed his chair and started really reading what was inside there. "Right, some guy died when I probably your age and he had some children. So what?" Enver shrugged, having stopped skimming by this point.

Every: Every's hazel eyes narrowed, ignoring him before she followed him and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Unless you sired a dead man." Every hadn't used Leighton in a while, so it wouldn't surprise me that her last name wasn't known. She signed everything as Andras anyway, and had used Volkov before that. She sat down across from him, keeping a light glare on him with her hazel eyes, "I was alive, I was nine years old. Charles Leighton was my father. Why the **** is your name in his obit as a surviving member?"

Enver: Enver's brows knitted together when she spat out all the information needed to make sense of everything she had been working on saying up until now. He grabbed the obituary again and re-read it. This time, very carefully. "Huh. Look at that." He said, running a finger over the paper, more so the spot where his name was. "Charles." He said out loud, scratching at his jawline, giving it a good thought. "Surviving is kind of a grey area." He started out, knowing damn well that it couldn't be in the literal sense of things, because he was Enver's son, more or less and his dad didn't have any brothers or sisters. Which meant...he cleared his throat. "Phone. You've got my phone?" He asked her, scooting up to the edge of the desk, reaching a hand out for her to pass it over.

Every: Every watched him, keeping her glare in place until he moved, and clearly, she wasn't expecting it because her first instinct was to move her hand to where her blade would normally be. Whoops. At least she still had her shadows! But as he asked for his phone, Every deadpanned and held up one finger, digging into her bag to collect the device that looked as if it had been shot, stomped on and crushed. At least the microchip still worked. "Ahem." She then passed over one of the expensive cellphones she had stolen from a factory.

Enver: He glared as she handed over two phones, one of which was his and the other, who knew? "Great." He muttered as he dug around for the microchip, yanked it out and put it in the other. He waited for the device to register some things, then hit the number nine on his phone and listened to it ring. "Emilee." Enver greeted his mom with his usual greeting before she ransacked him with questions. "Maybe in a week? No, I'm not going to be there for Thanksgiv-Fine.Agreeable." He cleared his throat and turned his back to Every, because, well, she wouldn't understand his relationship with his mother, nor was it her place to. "Does the name Charles Leighton ring any bells?" He looked up at the ceiling, thinking how it might be time to repaint it, when the truth had been revealed.

Enver tugged at the collar of his suit, hung up without saying goodbye to the woman Every only knew as Emilee for right now, stood up and went to his wet bar. "So, there's this story." He started out, his tone altered just a little bit. "About a cousin, who killed another cousin just last week." He grabbed the first thing he could find, his whiskey, poured a large glass of it and gulped it all up. Every single ******* drop. "Kicker is, they don't." He chuckled and shook his head. "Don't know that the other is their cousin. Second to be exact." And he laughed at the irony of it all, because, well what else could he do?

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Every: "At least I didn't drop the chip in the river. I considered it." She gave a sweet smile before her expression fell back to its usual default glare. The brunette leaned back in her chair, pulling out the man's cigars that had been dropped in poison chems and dried out before setting them back on his desk. Chemical waste had been considered, too, however, Every had to resist making them explosive with the other types of chems. Afterwards, she collected her tablet and paid no mind to his conversation while she googled 'Charles Avery Leighton' in search of her father's birth and death certificate. When he hung up and moved, her hand went back to where she kept her knife from habit and relaxed as she lifted her gaze to the man with a frown playing across her lips. The fact she had killed her cousin didn't really bother her, second or not. It wasn't anything compared to what she had done in the past anyway, was it? She didn't think so. "I see. Well. What do you think those cousins should do? Clearly, it's going to be a problem for them knowing certain details now."

Enver: As she talked, he got more to drink, because it was just too ******* out of this world! Or was it? Here they were, vampires after all. He took a sip of the second glass of whiskey, thinking on what she asked him. "Do?" He shrugged, unbuttoned his suit coat and reclaimed his chair. "Problem? I don't see any problems." He said, looking down at his cigars. She had them in her possession for a week, no way in hell was he touching them. He was just too paranoid to trust anyone who wanted him dead all the time with his belongings. He'd probably change his number too for good measure. "They don't really have to do anything. They live in the same area. Cousins sometimes do. Not that far fetched." He closed the file with one hand, the other baby sitting his drink. "Your counter?" With her, there was always an opinion or something formulating in her mind about him and his never ending death, so he was sure she had something in the back of her mind.

Every: "You know, alcoholism runs in the family." She stated as she watched Enver in vague amusement. Clearly, he wasn't comfortable with it - not that she was. In fact, if Every were an allurist, she probably would be having the same reaction in all honesty. She had a few of Arbor Vitae's bottles of blood in the apartment, though, and would likely find herself at the bottle of them later. Either that, or cry to Micah about tainted blood in her human life. Whichever happened first. "Well, look at this way. I've been doing some digging on my father for the past year and a half because I know jackshit about that side of the family after he was murdered and before you make any snide remark," She bared her fangs in a smile, "No, I did not kill him." The others in her family were another story. Every looked to the phone she had given him, "Who is Emilee and how did she know him? And unless you want me to do digging, Marshall, it's better to answer me."

Enver: He scoffed. She probably would kill her old man. Anyone if they were against her view point in life. "I wouldn't call taking a drink or two every once in a while being an alcoholic." He sneered, knowing damn well that that was an argument he had used a lot of times a few years back. "Emilee is his aunt." He cleared his throat, not wanting to go in to further details. While he and his mom weren't close, they were the closest they had been since his old man died. He wasn't going to risk her being leverage to someone like her. "So, mystery solved. We're cousins of sorts. Congratulations?" He chuckled in to his drink before taking another long sip of it.

Every: "You have a wetbar in your office... and I've smelled it on you from half a mile away before. First step is admittance." She countered, "Plus you downed that first one down like you hadn't fed two weeks." She looked pleased with that, anyway. She retracted her fangs and watched him, trying to figure out what the connection for Enver was to Emilee. Cousins. "Was." She corrected the man, and then decided to just google the answer. "Your mother. Hm." Every, while being a ***** usually, wasn't someone to hold another over their head... at least until she actually needed to.

Enver: "Yeah, well. You try running three local businesses and one international one." He grumbled at her comment about his wet bar. He didn't drink a lot anymore, truth was, he rarely touched anything harder than beer in the better part of a year, maybe? But some times, when there was nothing else to do, then drink it was. "Leave her out of this." He growled, a somewhat territorial streak rarely seen in the guy being revealed, unless you were the right person. "She's had a rough couple of months." He muttered in to the glass as he took another sip. "So, what do these two cousins do?" He looked down at the watch on his wrist, trying to focus on something other than the woman in the room.

Every: "I would, but I kind of have a lot less time to do things than everyone seems to think." Which is true, between Ty, two jobs and her childer, she didn't have much of a personal life. Every generally kept to herself in all reality, she had a few friends here and there and she cherished the ones she had made. "I find it funny that you assume I would actually leave Harper Rock. I can call her." She responded with a shrug of the shoulder, "I have no intent to harm your mother, and I can be quite polite if I please." Every crossed one leg over the other, tucking her tablet away as she began to search for the bent keys in her bag.

Enver: "Why funny? I leave it all the time." He shrugged, not caring if she or they knew he was a frequent visitor out of the city. "It's Canada. California and Canada aren't anything alike." He snorted in his drink, realizing they were getting side tracked. "I'd rather you didn't. Call her." He cleared his throat. "I wouldn't call your mom." He resisted the urge to say he doubted she could be polite, but he was too busy enjoying his drink for the time being. "So, I guess we're on the same page then? On the cousins thing?" He put the glass down, opened the drawer to his desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in between his lips, lit it and looked around, more so at what the hell she was doing in her bag. "There's a no weapons policy in the building. Posted on the outside.” He chuckled, knowing that she more than likely had two weapons, and then some somewhere in her possession. "I've a good security team."

Every: "I don't feel comfortable leaving the family I have here." Not that she had any other biological family elsewhere, Luz was gone. Alexio had vanished. Those were the only two she talked to, "If I need to, I will. If I don't, I won't." She responded and lifted her gaze from her bag to glare at him, and then looked back to her bag while she searched for the keys. "I don't have any weapons on me, and I don't need them to kick your *** anyway." She could use her shadows to attack him if needed be, but she didn't consider him to be much of a threat at that moment. He was still injured and while she was, she had her tome and could disappear from sight when she pleased. "I don't know what page to be on, the fact I'm related to you is vile." She found his keys and then tossed them at him in a light throw. "You couldn't call my mom if you wanted to anyway. She hasn't been alive since 2009."

Enver: "At least that's something we can agree on." He grinned as he caught the keys, noticing they were bent. "Nice. Remind me to send you, cousin a nice gift this Christmas." He sneered, though his eyes moved off her by then, as they focused on the keys. "You don't need to talk to her. You two haven't talked this long, so let's keep it that way." He took a long drag in of his cigarette, thinking she probably killed her mom too. "You'd be surprised on the *** kicking bit. I've done a couple hand to hands and walked away the winner. When I was young to the fold. Ask your pal Vel." He chuckled then shrugged. "So, mystery solved, here's your folder back, thanks for my ****, even if it's damaged, have a good night. See you next killing." He stood, ready to dismiss her from whatever the hell this was.

Every: Every smirked at his reaction and stood, carefully adjusting her weight on her injured leg as she hoped that she could just awaken from the nightmare nice and warm in her bed. "Yes, because asking your mother about her dead nephew isn't going to make her wonder how you knew his name." She put pressure on her leg, wincing lightly before she smirked faintly before collecting her folder. "I have her number. Thank google." She then turned and headed out of the theatre, only to pause as she looked at him over her shoulder with a smirk. "By the way, nice job on telling Zen to **** off." She then collected her tome from her pocket.

Enver: He tugged at his suit collar, not sure what she was talking about at first, until it registered that he had told Zen to **** off in a few words or less. "Yeah, well you can take my advice I gave him. Leave my mom alone. Not asking. I'm warning you." He let it at that, watching her wince out, wondering if that was some handiwork from some of his old partners in crime over in Fifth. If it was? Good. She deserved it for ruining all his possessions in his mind. Just when the guy came back, thinking life was going to get better from some of the choices he'd recently made, here she was with a cold harsh reality check that she was still a pain in his ***. Eternally too!