TF: Sometime between the visit from Richard and the visit to Castle Mortis.

Charon had never been to Brandons home and oddly she wasn't at all surprised to find herself wandering along a sewer line. She was glad of the fact that she hadn't chosen to put her best boots on though, just as she was thinking this, she reached a junction and turned left as instructed. It was times like these that being part demon was pretty handy, especially the being able to see in the dark.

Brandon had told her what to look for and a few hundred yards further up the tunnel, she found the brass plaque and pushed it. A previously invisible door swung inwards, Charon walked through, barely hearing the door close behind her and as she walked a normal looking front door loomed out of the darkness resplendent with all the trimmings including an ornate doorbell with bell push. It was quintessentially English and she grinned as she pushed the button.

She could hear bells ringing from somewhere inside, it sounded like bloody Big Ben, seconds later Brandon swung the door open with a huge smile pasted across his face and then did a ridiculously theatrical bow, his hair swaying manically. She walked in and politely wiped her feet on the doormat which proclaimed she was "welcome". Brandon, keen to play a proper host, bustled past her in the hallway and asked if he may take her coat. She shrugged it off and handed it to him, allowing him to bustle off to a small cloakroom just off the hallway. It was decorated almost exactly how she imagined it would be, it was sort of Victorian gothic and she took note of the odd gargoyle staring down at her from the top of ornate archways.

Brandon bustled quickly round and led her into the living room which was large but comfortable, he sat her down in front of a coffee table which was already laid out with a pot of tea, cups, milk and biscuits and she smiled.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble Brandon."

He twirled his left hand in the air and then gestured to the tea tray.

"I'm honoured you came, I owe you and so this is the least I can do!"

Charon shook her head in amusement.

"Drop the bullshit Brand, you have about as much manners as a foul mouthed dock worker!"

He grinned back and sat down opposite her.

"Alright, alright! What's all this visiting stuff about? You ain't the only one who keeps tabs on people of interest you know?"

He was sharp, even now, mind you he'd had to be with the kind of upbringing he'd had, right up to the night he'd been bitten by a werewolf and it was after he'd tried to bite her that she'd taken him on, given him a few pointers and helped him get his first taste of the ring and yet, even now, he had a habit of tracking her. She looked at him with that penetrating stare she used quite regularly.

"The staff of Mortis, where is it?"

Brandon froze on the spot, his gaze unfocused as though she had said a trigger word to send him into a hypnotic state, but she was used to this, this was Brandon thinking and sometimes it would take awhile. His eyes began to refocus and he looked directly at her now.

"Hmmm...the staff of Mortis you say? Dunno mate."

Charons mouth twisted into an odd shape, the one she made when she was trying to make a decision about something, she put the biscuit back down on the plate and made sure Brandon was paying full attention to her.

"I didn't help you out so you could screw me over when the time was right for you. Now you tell about the fucking Staff of Mortis or I'm going to make sure everyone and I mean EVERYONE will know who you really are. Is that what you want?"

Brandon was sat bolt upright, a shocked expression on his face.

"Mate, honest, I don't know......"

The sentence trailed off and without warning, Brandon shot up off the seat and sprinted out through into another room. Charon rubbed her face in her hands before picking her biscuit back up and taking a bite. She always found it tiring and frustrating dealing with Brandon, the multiple personalities could make life very difficult at times.....