Post by Erek Blackmore on Aug 13, 2017 12:02:37 GMT -5
Erek had arrived in Britain-- the book that Calendrea had offered him held information on his clan, but it had been little in the way of details-- only that his Clan was quite old, even by the oldest of Quincy standards-- there'd even been some bullshit about them being the descendants of the original Knights of the Round table. However, the book had given him tidbits of information that allowed him to trace them back to a location-- with a few searches in the normal system in normal humans-- the "Blackmores" were a small family of aristocrats that held titles of "Knights" and "Dame" with extensive connections to different financial industries.
The reason normal searches hadn't worked was that, despite their wealth, the family mostly kept to themselves-- they didn't go to parties, they didn't interact with the media, and there was never any court cases directly against or for them, they were simply rich businessmen and women-- and none of what they owned had their name slapped on it in bold letters. Without knowing what you were looking for, there was no way to locate them without a very large amount of time invested with skilled researchers-- something Erek was not.
Despite this, with the book on his family giving him hints, he had managed it-- and after a struggle, had managed a line of contact with a man by the name of "Abel Blackmore" after having to go through several levels of security and communication hops-- but thankfully, Oroborous's assistance eased that quite a bit and had allowed him through. He was currently walking through the London streets, in an area that practically dripped of wealth-- and it made his lip curl a bit in distaste. The way they all talked annoyed him as well-- they all acted like politicians, perhaps because some of them were. A military man like him stood out like a sore thumb, and every time he passed, he heard the conversation halt and become whispers quickly after he had made his way past the group.
Ridiculous-- like teenagers in Highschool watching the new kid.
Shaking his head a bit, a sigh passed his lips as he glanced down at the address written on his paper, glancing up and squinting at the large metal gate that stood in his path leading to an expensive looking complex. Glancing to the side, he eyed the small guard post-- where the door was now opening as a man wearing far too much to be considered a normal "gate guard" stepped out to examine him.
"Can I help you, sir?" the call came forward-- causing Erek's head to turn fully to the man addressing him, as he nodded a bit and walked toward him, halting a neutral distance away as he folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt.
"I'm Erek Blackmore-- I have an appointment with an "Abel Blackmore"." He stated simply, causing the man to blink, examining him carefully once more as he raised a hand, Erek wordlessly passed over his passport and identification card as the man looked at it, the name, and then him several times-- before squinting and handing them back as he glanced at his list to make sure he did, in fact, have an appointment. He clearly wasn't like the normal visitors he had-- and of course, Erek was certain his surname wasn't helping the confusion. Still, he had gone through the proper channels and as he pressed the intercom to talk to those inside the complex, he, begrudgingly, opened the gate for him and motioned him in.
Erek simply nodded in thanks, and stepped through, walking his way up the path before he halted near the front door-- glancing to the side as he caught the scent of motor oil, a garage open as he glanced at it-- a young man was working underneath a very nice looking car, causing Erek's brow to arch slightly as he progress halted, briefly.
Tags: Martin Blackmore
Post Words: 664
Thread Words: 664
The reason normal searches hadn't worked was that, despite their wealth, the family mostly kept to themselves-- they didn't go to parties, they didn't interact with the media, and there was never any court cases directly against or for them, they were simply rich businessmen and women-- and none of what they owned had their name slapped on it in bold letters. Without knowing what you were looking for, there was no way to locate them without a very large amount of time invested with skilled researchers-- something Erek was not.
Despite this, with the book on his family giving him hints, he had managed it-- and after a struggle, had managed a line of contact with a man by the name of "Abel Blackmore" after having to go through several levels of security and communication hops-- but thankfully, Oroborous's assistance eased that quite a bit and had allowed him through. He was currently walking through the London streets, in an area that practically dripped of wealth-- and it made his lip curl a bit in distaste. The way they all talked annoyed him as well-- they all acted like politicians, perhaps because some of them were. A military man like him stood out like a sore thumb, and every time he passed, he heard the conversation halt and become whispers quickly after he had made his way past the group.
Ridiculous-- like teenagers in Highschool watching the new kid.
Shaking his head a bit, a sigh passed his lips as he glanced down at the address written on his paper, glancing up and squinting at the large metal gate that stood in his path leading to an expensive looking complex. Glancing to the side, he eyed the small guard post-- where the door was now opening as a man wearing far too much to be considered a normal "gate guard" stepped out to examine him.
"Can I help you, sir?" the call came forward-- causing Erek's head to turn fully to the man addressing him, as he nodded a bit and walked toward him, halting a neutral distance away as he folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt.
"I'm Erek Blackmore-- I have an appointment with an "Abel Blackmore"." He stated simply, causing the man to blink, examining him carefully once more as he raised a hand, Erek wordlessly passed over his passport and identification card as the man looked at it, the name, and then him several times-- before squinting and handing them back as he glanced at his list to make sure he did, in fact, have an appointment. He clearly wasn't like the normal visitors he had-- and of course, Erek was certain his surname wasn't helping the confusion. Still, he had gone through the proper channels and as he pressed the intercom to talk to those inside the complex, he, begrudgingly, opened the gate for him and motioned him in.
Erek simply nodded in thanks, and stepped through, walking his way up the path before he halted near the front door-- glancing to the side as he caught the scent of motor oil, a garage open as he glanced at it-- a young man was working underneath a very nice looking car, causing Erek's brow to arch slightly as he progress halted, briefly.
Tags: Martin Blackmore
Post Words: 664
Thread Words: 664