Research in Motion

Sean's Office

The office of Dr. Sean Watson is almost stereotypical of what one would find in the office of an active archaeologist. Bookshelves line the walls of the office where there is no window, and where there is the one view outside, there are low-slung shelves. Not only books adorn the shelving, however. With each sectional, it can be discerned what specialty the shelves contain. There are small statuettes of random Egyptian figures of history, a couple of skulls that look very much like the mummified remains of some poor soul who lived a couple of thousand years ago filling the shelves behind his desk and chair, pottery, examples of textiles of the Middle East on the 'far shelving', and the nod to MezoAmerica under the window.

A desk sits on the side, papers piled along the front and on top of the blotter that also acts as a calendar. Pictures are hung on the walls in the spare spots, devoid of shelving, which is only on the wall nearest the door. There, Dr. Watson's degrees are hung, as well as a couple commendations from the archaeological community at large.

Just beside the door, a tall, cherrywood hatrack stands with a jacket draped upon it.


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Sean Corrie

Final exams are right around the corner. As a result, term and project papers are turned in and now in the possession of professors that have made the annual 'mistake' of requiring them as a pre-requisite for either graduation or advancement to the next class level. Dr. Sean Watson's classes are no exception. In fact, due to the course material, he is heavier on the papers and thesii than most. With so much new coming out of digs from all corners of the ancient world, he's impressing upon his students that papers written even 5 years ago may not be valid any longer as source material.

Ideally, it's a case of 'Go and find out'. If one can't, the next best thing is finding excavation notes.. those dry papers that contain data and little exposition.

Towards the end of the term, Dr. Watson isn't the most popular of professors…

As torturous it is for the students to do their research, very few consider what sort of work it means for the professor. As a result of his "unreasonable" demands, Sean is set behind his desk, piles of papers settled upon the tops, and he's leaning back in his chair with a pen in hand, blue eyes scanning the pages before him. A cup of coffee is set in the middle of the desk, steaming and half-full. Rather than the flourescent lights lit in the ceiling, he's got a standing lamp behind him to give a direct light to the papers.


Corrie has been missing. Honestly, she really wasn't missing. Jean did know that she'd wandered on some sort of impromptu 'vacation'. Stress relief, she called it when talking to her sister. She just needed a break now that Dumnonia was signed with Reese Entertainment Media. That's all Jean really needed to know, so far as Corrie's concerned. She got out of the situation intact without needing to call in her family.

Which, really, she still needs to do. Which she would have done, had she not been 'borrowed' again shortly after returning home. Until she decided to listen to the Vampire. In the end, she gave him the time to tell his story. It does sort of match with what she knows of the family grimoires… but she's got no way of checking her family tree that far back. Even in the older grimoires, names have been stricken from the records. Not included when the trees were made. These would be the 'black sheep' of her family — something of which she's quickly becoming.

Will become once she signs that contract.

Before that instance though, she needs to get something verified. She needs to do it discreetly. She only knows one 'historian' type, so that's where she's starting.

Taking a deep breath, she knocks at the office door and cradles a large brown paper bag in her arms.

The rap at the office door doesn't serve to drag his attention from the page, his pen marking on the margin after circling a large portion. Question marks dot the page, with scrawled notes, Explain why? accompanying it. Leaps of logic; interesting concept on the page, but out of left field.

It's a distracted "Come in" that is pulled from him however; and it'll only be after Corrie enters will he look up from what he's doing. Another page is flipped, but this one is briefly scanned before reading with the eye of a professional.

"I brought dinner," Corrie says, explaining her unexpected visit. "It's Thai, though there's fish and chips in the bottom if you'd prefer. I didn't feel like curry." She steps into the room and closes the door behind her.

"I need some assistance, and you were really the only person I could think of on such short notice." She notes the mess of papers in the office and sighs. "Term papers? I should have called first. I'm sorry, Dr. Watson, I can come back another time." The fiery redhead seems to have been replaced by someone a tad quieter this evening.

The figure that enters brings a rise of his brows, and leaning forward, puts the paper on top of the table, opened to the page. The topic is the ongoing archaeology in Tell es-Safi…

"Dinner?" A small, welcoming smile is offered and he rises to his feet. He chuckles a little self-consciously and his eyes flicker down himself and back up. "Do I look like I'm starving? Seems everyone I meet thinks I need a few pounds.. or at least not getting out enough to eat." Sean waves a hand lightly, making sure in the gesture that he doesn't mean any offense; he's teasing.

"Thai is great.. so's fish and chips. So, up to you as to what you what." He shifts some of the papers out of the way to be sure none of the fish grease gets onto the student papers. On his desk, he doesn't mind.

"If you want, flip on the main light?

"I'm surprised you didn't hear any complaints from your sister about it. She's got a pretty extensive bibliography, so there had to have been a lot of research." Another smile is given, "I haven't read her paper yet, though. I always read the bibliographies first."

The fact that she's asking his aid, now that pleasantries have been given, he remains on his feet, but a gesture is given towards a chair. "What can I help you with?"

"I haven't heard from Jean in a few days." Not entirely a lie, Corrie only left voicemail for her sister. She never actually spoke to Jean. "Beyond which, I know better than to bother her when she's busy with term papers and finals." She waits for the papers to be moved so that she can put the bag down.

Laughing, she shakes her head. "No it merely seemed an appropriate offering when I come asking questions." Opening the bag, she takes the few boxes of food out and shrugs. "I'm fine with sharing, I'm not fussy at all either way." She turns back to the wall once the boxes are out and flips on the light as requested.

"Ah, I've got a bit of an issue. Trying to research something in the family line." Beat. "I don't want Jean involved. I've no clue how to go about finding out the information, as I've not got all the details for eleven or twelve generations back…"

"She's carrying a load, yes.." Sean knows his students; some of them, he serves as advisor for, and part of that is offering advice as to class loads.

His smile broadens, and as she starts the preperations; the bag set on his desk and the light, he shakes his head and sits back down. "I'm not complaining." Twisting around to an obviously used coffee pot, his brows rise in askance once again, "Can I offer you a cup of slightly burned coffee? I'm going with the heavy caffeine of coffee rather than the sleep-inducing tea, so.." A slight, apologetic shrug gives his shoulders a brief rise.

At the heart of the matter, of it were, Sean sucks in air softly between closed teeth, and lets it out audibly. "Family, huh?" His voice lowers, "Which side?" Coven family histories are tricky, but doable. The paternal line would be a great deal more straightforward.


"I'm fine, thank you." Corrie is not a large fan of coffee, much preferring tea to anything else.

"Mum's. I've gotten as far back as my great-great grandparents, but then I got stuck. I didn't have my great-great grandmother's maiden name, but I do have the rest of the information available." From her bag she pulls a file folder. Copies of grimoire family trees, and as much information as she could get without having to go to the farm in Devon.

"I'm going to be perfectly frank with you, Dr. Watson. Our mutual 'friend' Aidan told me some very disturbing tales, and I'd really like to verify them before making a decision that could effect the rest of my life."


Coven history, then.

Sean sucks another breath and nods as he exhales, considering. A lot of it, then, will be like the research he's done on Imef.. he's got to locate what people have said about them and their movements rather than any 'first hand'. Not impossible, certainly.

A hand is extended to take the papers, blue eyes on the woman before him. "So you want the research in order to determine if he's telling you the truth or lying to you." A statement.

"Really." He doesn't mean to sound.. quite so sarcastic, but on this one? "I can give you a hint on their kind. Assume they're lying to you for their benefit and go about living your life the way you want. Even if it's the truth, up to now, you've been doing well for yourself without the knowledge." Another exhale sounds and he shakes his head, his tones softening, a little more sympathy present in his eyes. "They'll tell you anything to shake you up." This he knows from experience. "And in some cases, it's all in the presentation. You know as well as I how things are presented gives a positive or negative spin on it."


"Yes," she replies to the statement. "I am going off the fact that he's likely lying to me, but I want to go into another meeting fully informed." Corrie doesn't want to tell him the whole story, because she really doesn't want it getting back to Jean, this mess she's in.

"Contrary to popular belief, Dr. Watson, I'm not an idiot. Aidan was quite helpful to me about a week ago, when he didn't have to be. If he's not telling the truth then I can't see why he'd bother to keep me alive at this point. I can give you the name that he provided me with as well. Gwendolyn Arielle Bishop. I just need to verify if she is part of my ancestral history or not."

Biting her lip she stares across at him as she reaches for the coconut rice. "I'm about to sign a business contract with Reese Entertainment Media, but before I do I want to know if Aidan is lying to keep me from doing it, or if he's merely telling me so that I go into this on my own and negate the offer of protection that was put into place by my ancestress."


"I didn't mean to sound like I was calling you an idiot," is given quickly. "It's just—"

Sean slows with the explanation as Corrie continues, reducing the archaologist to nods as he gains more information about everything. It's after she's done that he first sits silently, his brows creasing, his mouth slightly open.

"Ah.." A single sound.

"So, supposedly there's an order of protection over the descendents of Gwendolyn Bishop against…" It's a question in the air… "..what, exactly?" He's not all that sure witches can actually do that without something of a talisman? "Do you live in the ancestral house still?" He's going to assume a talisman, known or un-, for the moment, at least. Until he can speak to Alex.

"And why would it be negated if you work with the conglomerate?" Yes, he knows they're sorcerors, but the entity isn't supernatural. It's all business.

"And, I'd also question how a vampire would understand the idiosyncracies of the creature called 'magic'.."



Corrie shakes her head about ancestral homes and talismans. "It has nothing to do with that. According to the story, Aidan made an agreement with Gwendolyn Bishop to protect her family, and in return she would spend out the remainder of her life working with him. Witch at his disposal." That's the gist of it, though Corrie's not at all sure why Aidan is still protecting the family considering Gwendolyn's life is long since over.

"Because I'd then be under the protection of the sorcerers, as would my family by proxy." Beat. "So you see the type of conundrum I'm in. I agreed to sign the contract with Reese Entertainment Media thinking that we were in need of protection from the vampire, but if he's not able to harm us due to whatever pact he made with an ancestor… then it could negate the agreement." Beat. "Unless I still choose, of my own free will, to sign the contract." It is lucrative, and she would get to work with Tristan again.

Not wanting to think about it anymore for the moment, she grabs some chopsticks and digs into the coconut rice, putting some on top of the lid to use it as a plate before she hands the container over to Sean.

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't burden you with all of this. I just really can't talk to anyone else at the moment and this seemed the safest place to come."


"I see.." The word is drawn out, his brows beetling as he considers. The food is actually forgotten, and when reminded, Sean starts as if he suddenly remembers there is actually something to eat before him.

He grimaces and reaches for it before putting it down. He'll go for the fish. Pulling the bag over, he digs the newsprint-wrapped food out and opens it on the top of his desk. He'll forego the vinegar for the moment and takes hold of one of the beer battered fish.

He's mulling the words, making sure he's got everything right. "So, if you work for Reese, you're under the family's protection? Do they do that with all of their signers?" If so, that's a bit of information he didn't have before regarding that Family. "And it would extend to your family." Another statement, just verifying the information as correct in his head.

"If you want to get historical for a moment, I can understand why pacts were made in the .. what .. 1700s for survival. But now? There aren't many crowds with pitchforks and torches ready to burn you out of your flat today."

Sean takes a moment and breaks the fish in half, eating it quickly, shaking his head in a silent response to the last comment. He waves the hand with the other half of fish in it in gesture, "No.. no.. you're not burdening me. I appreciate the fact that you think you can come and talk. Even if I don't give you the answers you're hoping I give, at least I can be a sounding board." Which is a good deal of his 'job' when not in the office. "But, yes.. it's sounding like the Lady or the Tiger. But, gotta say, you'd have more benefit, ultimately, allying yourself with sorcerors. Vampires are.. never good." He smiles and a soft chuckle escapes again, "But I'm biased."


"I have no idea. I've never been privy to the workings of a Dynasty before. Though I do know it comes with a hefty non-disclosure." So as not to share secrets, or spill plans to others. "I'm not entirely sure that it would extend to my family, but I've asked for that to be added." Beat. "As you can imagine, Mum would be none too happy to be protected by a sorcerer."

Corrie scoops up some more rice, eating it as she mulls over the historical reasonings. "So there's every chance he could be telling the truth. It's viable that he could be." Still no verification.

"I don't need the benefit," she says quietly. "I didn't actually agree to sign the contract due to Aidan. I agreed because it would protect me from the offerer's brother, whom I may have happened to sling a spell at…"

The seriousness of her tone dissolves immediately as she tries to lighten the situation a little. Teasingly, she says, "I should be blaming you, you realize. If you hadn't been so adamant at getting me away from the Undercity, I wouldn't have been so curious as to what the two of you were trying to hide, and I wouldn't have caused Aidan's interest in the first place." Beat. "I'm jesting. I know that the fault is all mine, and not that of a…" A struggle goes on within her as she tries to choose the word. "… necromancer?"


"Yes.. I haven't had the pleasure either." Dynasties are not only closed doors, but double locked with dead-man switches as far as he's concerned. A lot like vampires, actually. Only he's got some proof against the demons. Sorcerors, not so much.. other than the, sometimes, belated warnings from Alex.

The other half of the battered and fried fish is popped into his mouth, though now with the topic at hand, a little distractedly. Food certainly takes the back seat when met with concerns and considerations.

"You happened to sling a spell at a sorceror.." Sean whistles softly and looks for a place to wipe the grease from his fingers before picking up his half-a-coffee. His brows rise, though he senses the lightening and teasing tones. "Blaming me? Seems I was right to try and get you away from vampires." His response is given in the spirit of the conversation. "And I still think it's a good idea."

As for that which he's 'working' with Aidan about, he chews in the inside of his mouth for a moment, his jaw shifting. More ancestral things…

When Corrie finds a name, a moniker to assign to Sean, he smiles wanly, and nods. "Not the best term for it, but.. yes." He nods slowly, "The word conjures up a tall, pastey-white, skinny guy flanked by animated bones to do his bidding." Sean chuckles again and exhales in a soft sigh. "But, I'm in a unique position to encourage you to.. stay away from the undead?"


"Please, I tend not to go with the stereotyping. Witches, tall pointy hats, green pallor to their skins, warty noses." Corrie wrinkles hers and sighs. "I can't make any promises, it's not like I have a choice about him waltzing into my life. He's just there." She can avoid Flare, certainly, but beyond that? She can't dictate where Aidan goes.

"I need this information by Friday, Dr. Watson. I'm more than willing to pay any expenses, and you for your time of course. I do know that you're busy with the end of term…" She fidgets, finishes the rice, and then sighs. "The sorcerer in question implied I was prostituting myself to Aidan. Needless to say it was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction."

Shaking her head, she stands up and then scrawls her cellular number on a piece of paper and hands it to him. "If you do find anything out, you can call me there. I don't want to keep you from your work all evening, though I do enjoy the sounding board."


"I happen to know some very attractive witches." A statement of fact, nothing more, even if it is offered with a smile. "No warts to be found anywhere on the face."

A chip is taken and dragged through some of the pooled grease. Nothing better! "Friday.." He sounds dubious. "Not sure, but I can try. I've got a couple of avenues I can track down, and either way, you'll have an answer by Friday, at the latest." One week.

A chuckle sounds from the necromancer. "Lobbing spells at a sorceror really isn't the best way to go. One, he may not be affected and it'd only make him mad, or two, it does affect him and it'd only make him mad." He smiles lopsidedly. "But, we're looking at the lesser of two evils. At least I don't know of any sorceror spells that require the use of human blood."

The cell phone number is accepted, and pulling a card from his top drawer, turns it over and writes down his own cell number. This, he hands over. "If you need anything, let me know." The words hold a little more gravity. "Really. Okay? Promise?"


Taking the card, Corrie nods. "Yes, well, it was a sorcerer spell." Let him chew on that, as she's making her exit. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Watson. I'll be expecting your call."

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