Sell you a Bridge chapter 244 (Patreon)

June 3rd 2016 Julian Advent's Manor, The Nightside 12:00 AM EDT

I  felt my another five thousand points drop in, bringing me to one  hundred fifteen thousand, even as we finally arrived at Julian's manor.  As we pulled up outside I had to admit, it was pretty fucking nice.  Manor was a bit of an overstatement. It was definitely fancy and  Victorian, but it was more of a really big townhouse crammed into a row  of other buildings. Still, I was impressed by how beautiful the  architecture was. It definitely fit with the once again cobblestoned  streets around us, and I could even see a pair of small but intricately  carved gargoyles up on the eaves of the house.

The  place was gorgeous. Four stories or so, with thin, tall windows and a  high sloping roof. It kind of did look like someone squished a manor  between to buildings. Jim adjusted his bow tie as we climbed out and  stared up at the place. "Is that...it can't be." He walked up and rapped  on the facade of the building a few times before turning back to  Julian. "This is the same place. How the bloody hell did you get your  entire house moved into this deathtrap? They literally shoved it into  the vacant spot between the flats here didn't they?"

Julian  shrugged, a devil may care grin painted across his face. "You can get  anything done for the right price in the Nightside. After I vanished  Blanchard Hall went into a family trust. It was held in conservatorship  for about four generations because I had no living blood relatives  available to inherit. When I returned I tracked down my old solicitor,  and, with the help of some documents I had squirreled away, reclaimed  ownership. From there it was a matter of getting it transported, and  that was surprisingly cheap all things considered."

Wally  whistled as he stepped out, putting an arm around Artemis. "Damn, this  kind of makes me want to upgrade our digs babe. I wonder if we could buy  some big mansion and have it jammed into a spot between two buildings  back in Gotham." I expected Artemis to elbow him, but she was looking at  the admittedly gorgeous house with a speculative gaze that made me a  bit worried I was going to be dropping a million plus on a manor house  as an engagement or birthday present pretty soon.

Taylor  snorted from behind us. "Not without serious favors to call in. Work  like that is infinitely more expensive long distance." He looked at  Julian. "I assume this was the Sceneshifters? Reality manipulation is  the best way I can think of to arrange this kind of thing." He got a nod  from the Victorian Adventurer. "Thought so. You couldn't get them to do  it anyway. They stopped existing a few years ago. Most people don't  even remember they were real, heard they had a nasty run in with a  Drood."

Wally turned to stare at  him in bewilderment. "What do you mean they stopped existing? And how  do YOU remember them then?" He seemed half intrigued and half terrified  of the answer, which seemed like it was a recurring theme in this place.  I however, was more focused on that last part. The Droods were the  people who originally had the torc armor I wore. Jim had mentioned them  ages ago, but he hadn't brought them up since we got here and neither  had anyone else. It seemed they were still active. A good reason to keep  my torc under the collar so to speak unless I needed it.

Taylor  just shrugged, a gesture he seemed to use annoyingly often when he  answered questions. "Things like that don't usually take around here. At  least not for people like me. Some of the low level players forgot  about them, but for the most part anyone who is anyone is protected  against that kind of reality editing. I find it's best not to think  about it too much. Better for your sanity. Still, there are others who  could do the same kind of work, though not nearly as nearly or cleanly.  I'm not surprised they didn't charge Julian much though. They always  were irritating little suckups."

The  eye roll Julian gave him was pretty inconsistent with his urbane  gentlemanly persona. "If you're all quite finished, I suggest we make  haste getting inside. Lingering in the street is hardly a wise choice  even in this relatively upscale neighborhood." He stepped up, rapping  smartly on the door in a quick staccato pattern before stepping back to  let the large ornate wooden barrier swung inward of its own accord.  "Please, make yourselves welcome in my humble home, remove your shoes as  your enter if you will, several of the rugs are Persian and I will not  abide scuffs."

We  all filed in, slipping our shoes off and leaving them in a very  polished looking mahogany rack by the door before following Julian  inside. I was half expecting candles, but his place was wired for  electricity, but even so the lightbulbs were in sconces and chandeliers.  Like he'd said the floors in the front hall were dark wood with  gorgeous looking Persian carpets. There was a single dark wood table  next to the entryway, and a set of stairs off to one side leading up to  the next floor, while the other side of the hall showed an open door to  what looked like a large library or reading room.

It  was surprisingly modern actually, but with plenty of small flourishes  that seemed old world without making the more up to date touches feel  anachronistic. Julian shut the door, and the flipped about sixteen  latches, switches, deadbolts, and chains to secure it before turning to  gesture us further inside. We walked past the library and the steps and  came out in an old fashioned drawing room, a large open space full of  couches and small tables, with a chandelier lighting the room dimly and a  fire already going in the fireplace.

Jim  slipped off the mantle around his shoulder and slipped it over a coat  rack before leisurely dropping into one of the chairs with a sigh of  contentment. "Oh this is lovely. I haven't been in proper accomodations  in eons." He glanced at me apologetically. "Not that the island isn't  lovely dear boy, but your particular tastes remain predominant in it's  decor, and we never really felt right changing things. It is your home  after all, not ours. Even so, being back in the old drawing room again  is...rejuvenating."

There  was a low chuckle from Julian as he walked to one of the book cases and  took down a large wooden box. "I never thought you'd see the inside of  the old place again myself. This calls for a celebration. Would anyone  care for a brandy? I have an absolutely lovely bottle of Napoleonic  Cognac I've been saving for just such an occasion. A bottle of  Massougnes from eighteen oh one. I picked it up at auction several years  ago but never had a sufficient reason to crack it open. The return of  absent friends seems like a perfect excuse."

I  wasn't really a drinker, but it seemed rude to turn him down. It  occurred to me that him offering teenagers brandy was odd, until I  remembered that he was from the late eighteen hundreds, and also London  where even in modern times the drinking age was eighteen. Besides, we  were all far past normal human norms. There was no way the stuff would  actually effect us, even if we drank enough of it to do the job, which I  doubted would be the case with everyone having drinks from only one  bottle. So I accepted, as did everyone else, even Wally, to my surprise.

Julian  was delighted, and unlocked a cabinet under one of the wooden shelves  to pull out yet another box, which he opened to reveal a series of well  cared for crystal glasses with golden trim along the edges. He put the  box on a table and began taking the glasses out, cleaning them with a  rag from the box before pouring a measure of the gorgeous amber liquid  into each glass, one after another. Once that was done he pulled out a  filagreed silver light and flicked it to life, running it under the base  of each glass for a bit, back and forth, before passing them out to  each of us.

Jim  took his gingerly, inhaling the scent of the strong fruit based  alcohol. "Absolutely lovely indeed. I've not had a proper cognac in a  dogs age. These are the bohemian cut crystal glasses your mother gave  you for your engagement to Abigail, aren't they?" His voice was soft as  he asked the question, as if worrying about bringing up old wounds. As  he spoke he swirled the cognac in his glass before taking a long sip,  sighing in contentment at the taste. "A shame you never developed an  appreciation for a proper cigar, that would be a splendid pairing."

The  rest of us were passed our glasses, and Julian looked...sad, but  wistful as he answered. "Yes. I never had the heart to throw them away,  even after what she did. I'm a sentimentalist I suppose." His eyes  landed on Jim as he passed the last glass to Artemis. "I am not,  however, a barbarian. Cigars are a filthy habit, regardless of how many  of our compatriots tried to convince you otherwise. I will not allow  those wretched things in my home, not when we were young and not now."

I  hid my smile at the byplay by taking a sip. The cognac was...odd. I  didn't drink, as a rule. I disliked the idea of compromising my  faculties. But since my vitality was so high there was no chance of the  alcohol actually intoxicating me, so I decided to give it a try. It was  unusual to say the least. It tasted kind of like hazlenut, but with  other nutty flavors mixed in and an undertone of straw or grass. It was  lighter than I expected though, and though I wouldn't say it was GOOD  exactly, it wasn't terrible. I neglected to mention my lack of  appreciation to Julian, it seemed rude.

We  spent the next hour or two sipping our cognac and talking by the fire.  Jim and Julian regaled us with tales of their youth, several of which we  had already heard from Jim, though Julian's versions tended to leave  out the grandiose exaggerations and included far more dumb ass  shenanigans from my mentor, much to our amusement and Jim's  consternation. Even Taylor was laughing along, and he and John had  joined Jim for a second and third glass, though none of them seemed  buzzed or anything close to it.

I'd  kept to nursing my first, having no interest in drinking any more of  the stuff. Finally at what would have probably been about three AM back  in Gotham (apparently it's ALWAYS three AM in the Nightside...for some  reason) we all decided to head up to bed. Julian told us he should hear  back from his sources tomorrow, and that after we had tea and breakfast  we could set off on the next step of our journey, provided we actually  managed to learn anything from his people, though he seemed hopeful  about that.

Zee,  Dreamer, and I shared a room of course, and the huge soft bed was a  relief after everything that had happened today. Zee cast a few basic  security spells before we slept just in case, but once she took a few  precautions we decided to trust Jim and his friend to keep us safe, at  least enough to fall asleep. With that one last thing taken care of I  pulled both my girls close and drifted off to sleep, happy in their  arms. The Nightside might be scary and awful at times, but as long as I  had my girls I could handle it. After all, when we were together, I was  always home.