After centuries of observing others, it didn't take long for Adam to realize his new cell neighbor could potentially be his key to freedom. It would take time, yes. But for the immortal, time was always on his side. And so he bided that time, little comments here and there to get a feel for Peter—how to unwrap him, dig his claws into him, gain his trust, and most importantly, have access to those extraordinary abilities of his. Empaths were a rarity, making Peter the first real prize Adam had set his sights on in years, if not decades.
All had gone according to plan—well, except for the part where modern car technology prevented Adam from having his pick of the litter. They weren't riding in style exactly, but at least they had evaded recapture. Once Peter fell asleep, Adam tampered with the radio, scanning the channels for something decent, something familiar. His face underwent several judgmental expressions until he finally found the oldies station. They weren't oldies to him, though. With that taken care of, it was peaceful enough to formulate the next steps in his grand plan as they sped along to their destination.
At Peter's question, Adam glanced over with a confident grin. ❝ Someplace safe to the north... One of my properties. No worries, it can't be traced back to me. ❞ And he had made sure they hadn't been followed. This wasn't his first rodeo, after all. ❝ I figure, we play it safe. Lay low for a while. Ensure your abilities have fully returned and such. ❞ After glancing down at the empty crisp bag, he added, ❝ Not to mention, I haven't had a decent meal in thirty years. ❞
After leading Peter up to the front door, Adam felt around for the key, trying to remember where he'd hidden it all those decades ago. Not under the rug... Not above the doorway... Aha! A fake rock, of course. The door opened, revealing traditional Victorian decor throughout the place. The kitchen had appliances dating back to the seventies. But no microwave, seeing as those didn't become standard in households until after Adam's unfortunate incarceration. Perhaps a shopping trip was in their future.
With a subtle bow of his head, Adam motioned for Peter to make himself at home. ❝ It's not much, but it'll do for the moment... Now, more importantly, how are you faring, my dear? ❞ Placing a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder, a look of concern washed over his features. Oh, he knew the empath was fine—especially since he had regeneration—but the show must go on! ❝ Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to make this situation more pleasant. In fact, what's your favorite cuisine? We shall order whatever you desire, ❞ he finished with a warm smile.
no subject
All had gone according to plan—well, except for the part where modern car technology prevented Adam from having his pick of the litter. They weren't riding in style exactly, but at least they had evaded recapture. Once Peter fell asleep, Adam tampered with the radio, scanning the channels for something decent, something familiar. His face underwent several judgmental expressions until he finally found the oldies station. They weren't oldies to him, though. With that taken care of, it was peaceful enough to formulate the next steps in his grand plan as they sped along to their destination.
At Peter's question, Adam glanced over with a confident grin. ❝ Someplace safe to the north... One of my properties. No worries, it can't be traced back to me. ❞ And he had made sure they hadn't been followed. This wasn't his first rodeo, after all. ❝ I figure, we play it safe. Lay low for a while. Ensure your abilities have fully returned and such. ❞ After glancing down at the empty crisp bag, he added, ❝ Not to mention, I haven't had a decent meal in thirty years. ❞
After leading Peter up to the front door, Adam felt around for the key, trying to remember where he'd hidden it all those decades ago. Not under the rug... Not above the doorway... Aha! A fake rock, of course. The door opened, revealing traditional Victorian decor throughout the place. The kitchen had appliances dating back to the seventies. But no microwave, seeing as those didn't become standard in households until after Adam's unfortunate incarceration. Perhaps a shopping trip was in their future.
With a subtle bow of his head, Adam motioned for Peter to make himself at home. ❝ It's not much, but it'll do for the moment... Now, more importantly, how are you faring, my dear? ❞ Placing a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder, a look of concern washed over his features. Oh, he knew the empath was fine—especially since he had regeneration—but the show must go on! ❝ Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to make this situation more pleasant. In fact, what's your favorite cuisine? We shall order whatever you desire, ❞ he finished with a warm smile.