
Great. Knowing he was far off and completely missing the mark was reassuring for him in this sense of things, and may have even busted his pride just a bit. Not the first time that's happened to the Brit. But the vampire was definitely playing a good game. One he didn't expect to be a part of at all. Yet here the Fae was at this very moment. A bit frazzled being put on the spot like this.And not that ticking that Morgan was mentioning started to pop into his head now. That sickening rhythm just seemed endless now. He watched the Vampire slink around, and it made it very obvious she seemed to know this house's layout. Perhaps too well.
"This feels like...No. Could it possibly be a set up of some sort?"
The thought rolled around in his head. Now he was even more cautious than ever.
This situation that he got himself entwined in suddenly was making him sweat, and his pulse kicked into next gear. There was no point in him even attempting to hide his anxiety.
Vampires had been known to have the most acute sense with these things. Especially anything that involved your beating heart and blood.
"Well... Mor. Tell you what. I'm a touch desperate about this situation. Yes, it's a fabulous book you have there. But I'm rather confused."
The Fae would say as he started glossing over everything around him. Nothing just seemed to stick out, and the Vampire's words just seemed to bounce off of the walls of his mind; Like a ping pong ball. Damn, even the sound was there. Ugh.
"So tell you what. Throw me a bone here. We're working on a ticking clock and I'd rather not be caught between the home owners and a potentially dangerous situation. Especially given my nature of being."
He was just stating the obvious at that point. Dumb plonker. He was still posed and composed somehow amidst all this pressure and chaos laid upon his table. Is this what it was like to beg?
"So where would you start? Upstairs? Basement? Downstairs room? I'll take anything. Just give me some bloody help here, Mor! Where is the thing we seek?"
It was like he was starting to crack. Maybe this is what she wanted all along. This felt more and more like a trap. But he wouldn't back down. He came too far to run away now. Playing with fire was something he did best. Why stop now?
"Get it together, Braxton. You're better than this." He'd say to himself in his head, awaiting his next step of guidance.
- Braxton Redfield -
What's Wrong With Being Confident?