~~Natasha~~
The Grand Cathedral of Dolareido was a terrifying place, she found, especially from the outside. The statues on the railings of the stairway, on the archways, and on the outcroppings of carved stone along the cathedral's high walls, were nightmare fuel. Six-winged angels destroying demons beneath their feet, and gargoyles with mouths agape and fangs exposed within them. The archway over the main door had a crucifix, with doves perched upon it, as if the only way to find the peace those doves had, to escape the horrors displayed on the outside of the cathedral, was to pass through the gates beneath the cross.
She eased open the giant door of the cathedral, and slipped in.
She'd never understand why a vampire would agree to the philosophies of the Lancea et Sanctum. She wanted her feet firmly on the ground, rooted in evidence, not beliefs that were created to fill the hole evidence hadn't filled yet. So what if vampires didn't know where they came from? That was no reason to suddenly go believing in a higher power, believing that vampires were damned and doomed to suffer lest they fulfill God's plan for them, to be monsters that scare the sheep into the protective arms of the shepherd.
But then, in absence of evidence, what do you do? For her, it meant a lifetime of digging through books and research articles, and now, relics and tomes, searching for truth. Damien was different than her. He had faith. A powerful weapon, and a massive weakness, depending on circumstance. She wanted to know if that circumstance was now, and if Damien had anything to do with what happened.
Maria wasn't here, she knew that; it's why she came now and not later. Still avoiding that conversation, still tiptoeing around that bitch of an elder, still being passive and refusing to be aggressive. She got aggressive with Jacob, maybe she could get aggressive with Maria? No, that wasn't the same circumstance, not at all.
Natasha walked forward, slowly, and took a moment to straighten her business pantsuit. A pistol and two small swords, one of silver and one of carbon steel, were not easy to fit into a pantsuit jacket, but she made do. It would have been easier to leave the silver sword behind, and avoid potential questions from her boyfriends. They'd yet to ask about the extra sword; maybe they couldn't tell it was silver? She did keep it in its sheath. Either way, she had to keep it on her at all times, but it wasn't a strong enough material for proper sword work, hence the need for the other.
She made sure they were all there as she walked through the cathedral toward the dais, and the apse behind that that held the enormous pipe organ. Someone was playing them.
"D-Damien?" she said.
"... Natasha. I wasn't expecting you."
She came closer, and watched the man as his fingers moved across the keys. A pale comparison to Maria's expert fingers, Damien's playing was slow, imprecise, and lacked any texture. His timing was off too. But, he was playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, the famous first movement, and that wasn't exactly Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
"Is Madam Turio... Maria t-teaching you how to play?"
"Yes. I expressed interest, and she was more than willing."
"She d-does love old, classical music a lot."
"Indeed. And for good reason. It deserves to be loved. Modern music is... well, that's a rant I'm sure someone else could deliver better than I." The man started playing again, and Natasha watched, a small smile on her lips. Something sexy about a man playing an instrument; a stereotype, but true.
"I'm not hearing the f-f-full p-pipes?" The sound was quiet, subdued, and didn't have any of the power she assumed a pipe organ would have.
"No. This organ has a digital structure built in. I need to flip a switch to actually use the pipes. But, I foresee months, years of practice, before I'd be willing to try them."
She nodded. Practical, sound, logical. You build up to something as grandiose as using the pipes in an actual full sized pipe organ.
"Is... is it harder? Playing an organ, instead of a piano?"
"I wouldn't know, haven't played the piano. Madam Turio... Maria, she says that, when all its elements are engaged, it is the most difficult instrument to play. It is a wind instrument at its core, and... and I suspect you did not come to talk to me of music, Madam Vola." The man didn't know when to use titles, or he didn't feel comfortable addressing her as Natasha. Maybe some time together could fix that?
"N-No, I... wanted to talk to you about Jack. And, and you know... t-t-to call me Natasha. You're not Invictus, n-no need for the titles."
"Very well, Natasha. Yes, I assumed the only reason you might visit now would be to talk about Jack. I may not be Invictus, but Maria keeps me in the loop. This whole right hand but not Invictus position she has given me is... weird."
"You thought I'd want to talk to you about Jack?"
"You suspect me, don't you?"
"I... I mean... a little?" She squirmed, and leaned against a nearby railing that separated the organ from the rest of the stage. "You c-can... imagine why."
"... then let's go talk to him."
"What?"
Damien stood up, adjusted his tie, and turned to look at her. The half-shaved head, hair falling down his temple on one side of his head, was oddly fitting his dark suit, something Maria no doubt had him wearing. Sexy.
"Let's go talk to him."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julias wasn't home, but that's why Natasha called him ahead of time. She couldn't lie to him though, and spilled the truth that Damien was joining her. The man was hesitant, but he agreed to let them into the mansion and its underground bunker. It wasn't like Damien would be able to kill Jack and make it seem like Natasha did it or something, and the man had had ample opportunity to kill Jack if he was willing to do it overtly.
So, Natasha knocked on the front door, and waited. Huge place. So huge. To own a mansion in a dense city, in an area where the real estate was kept free of any extra homes or anything that could possibly lower its value, was expensive. Of course the Invictus not only had money, they could bypass the money issues altogether, and turn such fantasies into reality. Only elders got to do something as extravagant as a mansion though.
"Madam Vola, and... Mister Burksen, I believe?" A kind looking woman in a modern, but not too modern maid outfit answered the door. "I am sorry to answer myself, but Nathan has just let Master Terry feed, so he is sleeping."
"Y-Yes, um, d-d-did Mister Mire call and—"
"Yes yes, come in, please. Master Terry is awake and expecting you."
