"Yeah, let's not do that, either," Nathan mutters.
He steps up to her, then, when she stops, raising his own flashlight. When it doesn't help much, if at all, he sighs and clips the thing back to his holster, opposite his gun, to keep his hands free. And after a beat, and ever-effectually, he starts, "Uh ... "
"Eeny, meeny, miney, moe?" he suggests, finally. Nothing he remembers taking note of gave any indication as to which way they should be going, so really, her guess is as good as his.
Elena makes a face as she glances back and forth between the two, before nodding and pointing to the left.
"Let's go left." Why? If he asks, she'll give him some logic about how most of the world is right handed so most people go right, and since it hasn't been found yet, it's probably not there. But mostly it's just that it's the first option that popped into her head.
Nathan does ask, trusting Elena's reasons, whatever they may be, or at least not able to find a decent argument for heading in the opposite direction. They carry on in silence for several minutes, then, before Nathan pauses, reaching for his flashlight again to turn the beam on the floor.
"Whoa, hey, wait." He flicks the beam back up, catching her in it without blinding her with it, before dropping it back to the ground. "The floor's changed."
There are tiles under their feet, now, cracked and chipped in some places, missing entirely in others, but it's different, for better or worse. It might mean they're on the right track.
She shifts the beam of her flashlight to match his, scanning over the tile curiously as she takes it in. She's not as good with identifying architecture the way her husband is, but she does know "old" and "different" when she sees it.
"Is it from the time period we're looking for?"
Could they maybe escape these caves sooner than she expected?
He crouches down, fingers trailing over the tiles as he studies them. When he rocks back onto his haunches, he shrugs before letting his arms come to rest over his knees. "If it's not, someone went to a lot of trouble to make a convincing fake."
Which is to say: as far as he can tell, yes. For all the misdirection they've run into, getting to this point, however, 'fake' might not be off the table.
She nods because fair enough. "Okay. So proceed but proceed with caution."
She can do that. She turns her beams back to the road ahead as she heads in further, trying to see if there are any other signs of trouble coming. There seem to be more bodies approaching, though there's something about the smell that seems off, as well as the stains left on the tile ahead of them.
When she sees how the wetness glints when she shines her flashlight on it.
He takes a moment more with the tile, then, as she moves on, trying to decide if he can tell, really tell, whether or not the tiling is real. When nothing sticks out one way or another (man, but if this is a fake it's a good fake, the pushes back up to his feet. He glances in the direction of Elena and her flashlight beam almost immediately after.
"Oh, great," Nathan declares, taking a step forward to examine the body in spite of himself. "A body."
Noting the neck wound, he reaches for his gun as he rocks back. He checks to make sure it's loaded and that he has extra ammo, for all the these things have turned out to be bullet sponges, and then he adds, "I was hoping you'd found, like, a pile of Spanish gold or something."
She also reaches for her own gun and slowly starts to make her way forward, quietly eyeing the shadows of the hallways. As they make their way closer, a pair of well dressed shoes steps out of the shadows, which scrolls up to a person in an incredibly expensive and impractical suit. Elena's honestly curious how he managed to get in here without ruining it, but that thought is cut short by the blood on his hands.
"Good evening," he says with a smile. "You must be Nathan Drake and Elena Fisher. We've been expecting you."
Nathan's gun comes up immediately, finger on the trigger, discipline be damned, at the moment. A stranger just jumping out of the shadows doesn't particularly endear him to him; the fact that he notices the blood on his hands, doubly so.
"My name is Elijah Mikaelson. And I mean you no harm."
Which is a very tentative statement, honestly, because should things not go his way, he is absolutely capable of harm. However, by getting as far as they have, Elena and Nate have done him a service, and he requires their expertise to see things the rest of the way through.
He retrieves a handkerchief with a flourish before beginning to clean off his fingers.
"I'm told you're the best in the business at figuring out centuries-old puzzles to places of immense power."
"We might be," Nathan allows, glancing over at Elena. He's quick to return his attentions to Elijah, all things considered, however. "But we're also not in the business of dealing with -- " With psychopaths, which he assumes Elijah is, based on the fact that he apparently killed a guy with his hands, but he's smart enough not to say that. " -- with people that wanna use that power for whatever."
He won't let you get your evil hands on the Fountain, is what he's saying.
"Oh, you misunderstand me. I very much wish for it to be destroyed - at least, metaphorically speaking."
Elena also meets Nate's glance, before she raises an eyebrow back at the man in front of him. "I think you might have to be a little more specific on that one."
"Well, it's quite simple. The so-called Fountain of Youth isn't exactly a what. It's more of a who."
Nathan tilts his head in Elena's direction -- what she said. When Elijah continues, however -- well, that wasn't what he was expecting, exactly, and so he stares at him for a long moment, before, "I'm sorry, what?"
A part of him supposes that tracks, given vampires, but he still can't quite wrap his head around it.
"It's quite the long story but in summation, my siblings and I were the first vampires ever created. Two of my brothers had a ... difference of opinion many centuries ago and we lost track of him."
Which shouldn't have happened. As much as his siblings could fight and profess their hatred of each other, they always came back to each other again after a few decades. Finn never returned.
"Vampire blood has profound healing properties, as well as gifting immortality under the right circumstances. I have reason to believe that my brother may be your so-called Fountain of Youth."
Yes, that's what he's choosing to focus on, because the rest of it gets a little brain-breaking. Having a brother, though -- that he can sympathize with, even if he's not any more sure why Elijah would want to kill him. If it were Sam --
"Or are you trying to get to him to break him out of whatever mess he got himself into?" If it were Sam, he would try everything he could to save him. Maybe Elijah doesn't want to kill his brother to destroy the Fountain. Maybe he wants to free him to destroy it.
Elijah does not seem phased by the implication that he may want to kill his brother. That is likely not comforting. Elijah doesn't seem to care about being comforting.
"The latter, preferably. My sister would be quite disappointed if I returned without her favorite brother."
Well, at least he doesn't have to figure out how he's going to kill a vampire -- at least there's that. He's not sure how he feels about letting another one loose on the world, either, however, and so, after a beat, he ventures, "Just out of curiosity here -- what happens if we say no?"
He has a feeling this is the part where Elijah threatens him, Elena or both.
Quite literally. He will compel away their ever meeting, set them at the head of the tunnels and they will never have to see each other again. But Elijah intends to get his brother out of here, with or without their help.
Nathan blinks. Did he mention he was expecting the worst, and not -- not that?
"Seriously?" it's out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "I mean, not that I mind, that'd be great, if we end up deciding to go our separate ways, but this is usually the part where the other guy pulls a gun on us or whatever." Or however vampires actually threaten people. Probably by grabbing them by the throat and hauling them up over their head or something. Either way.
Either way, still a little on uncertain footing, now, he gestures between himself and Elena. "Can we -- do you mind if we take a minute, here?" And actually decide what they're doing.
He wanders off an acceptable distance from the couple, admiring the decor, while Elena takes Nate's hand and pulls him further off in the opposite direction. If any of the pop culture exposure she's heard about vampires are true, she's pretty sure he'll be able to hear them but it's the illusion of privacy that matters.
Nathan glances down the corridor, frowning, apparently of the same mind. He's not sure they can do any better than this, however, and as unfortunate as that is, they do need to have this conversation, regardless. Still, he doesn't look happy as he returns his attentions to her.
"I don't know. I'm not sure I like the idea of helping a guy who literally just murdered someone, free his vampire brother from captivity, but ... " But he's not sure the alternative is any better, even if Elijah promised he wouldn't hurt them. He's also not sure he really has that much room to talk, for all that he and Elena have killed their share of people today, too, never mind the fact that they technically started it.
"Do you know anything about vampire lore? Because my other thought is that if we lead him in there and he's got this half-starved brother there waiting for him, we're going to look like Christmas dinner."
She's not unaware of the fact that Elijah promised he wouldn't hurt them. He never said anything about his brother.
"Yeah, I kinda had that thought, too," Nathan agrees, his frown deepening. There's a lot of conflicting vampire lore (and up until recently, he thought it was all fiction), but he's pretty sure the idea that, if a vampire's starving, they get a little mindless, is constant across the board. Probably be starving humans do, too.
"I'd say, if worse came to worst, we open the door and run like Hell, but ... " But that might not be enough. Vampires are almost always universally fast, too.
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He steps up to her, then, when she stops, raising his own flashlight. When it doesn't help much, if at all, he sighs and clips the thing back to his holster, opposite his gun, to keep his hands free. And after a beat, and ever-effectually, he starts, "Uh ... "
"Eeny, meeny, miney, moe?" he suggests, finally. Nothing he remembers taking note of gave any indication as to which way they should be going, so really, her guess is as good as his.
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"Let's go left." Why? If he asks, she'll give him some logic about how most of the world is right handed so most people go right, and since it hasn't been found yet, it's probably not there. But mostly it's just that it's the first option that popped into her head.
Feels like the right one.
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"Whoa, hey, wait." He flicks the beam back up, catching her in it without blinding her with it, before dropping it back to the ground. "The floor's changed."
There are tiles under their feet, now, cracked and chipped in some places, missing entirely in others, but it's different, for better or worse. It might mean they're on the right track.
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"Is it from the time period we're looking for?"
Could they maybe escape these caves sooner than she expected?
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Which is to say: as far as he can tell, yes. For all the misdirection they've run into, getting to this point, however, 'fake' might not be off the table.
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She can do that. She turns her beams back to the road ahead as she heads in further, trying to see if there are any other signs of trouble coming. There seem to be more bodies approaching, though there's something about the smell that seems off, as well as the stains left on the tile ahead of them.
When she sees how the wetness glints when she shines her flashlight on it.
"Nate, there's something here."
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He takes a moment more with the tile, then, as she moves on, trying to decide if he can tell, really tell, whether or not the tiling is real. When nothing sticks out one way or another (man, but if this is a fake it's a good fake, the pushes back up to his feet. He glances in the direction of Elena and her flashlight beam almost immediately after.
"What've you got?"
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She glances back at him nervously, angling the light so that Nate can see the neck wound and the blood still flowing from it on the tile floor.
"A fresh one."
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Noting the neck wound, he reaches for his gun as he rocks back. He checks to make sure it's loaded and that he has extra ammo, for all the these things have turned out to be bullet sponges, and then he adds, "I was hoping you'd found, like, a pile of Spanish gold or something."
That would have been preferable.
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She also reaches for her own gun and slowly starts to make her way forward, quietly eyeing the shadows of the hallways. As they make their way closer, a pair of well dressed shoes steps out of the shadows, which scrolls up to a person in an incredibly expensive and impractical suit. Elena's honestly curious how he managed to get in here without ruining it, but that thought is cut short by the blood on his hands.
"Good evening," he says with a smile. "You must be Nathan Drake and Elena Fisher. We've been expecting you."
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"Yeah, sorry. I don't think I caught your name."
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Which is a very tentative statement, honestly, because should things not go his way, he is absolutely capable of harm. However, by getting as far as they have, Elena and Nate have done him a service, and he requires their expertise to see things the rest of the way through.
He retrieves a handkerchief with a flourish before beginning to clean off his fingers.
"I'm told you're the best in the business at figuring out centuries-old puzzles to places of immense power."
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He won't let you get your evil hands on the Fountain, is what he's saying.
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Elena also meets Nate's glance, before she raises an eyebrow back at the man in front of him. "I think you might have to be a little more specific on that one."
"Well, it's quite simple. The so-called Fountain of Youth isn't exactly a what. It's more of a who."
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A part of him supposes that tracks, given vampires, but he still can't quite wrap his head around it.
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Which shouldn't have happened. As much as his siblings could fight and profess their hatred of each other, they always came back to each other again after a few decades. Finn never returned.
"Vampire blood has profound healing properties, as well as gifting immortality under the right circumstances. I have reason to believe that my brother may be your so-called Fountain of Youth."
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Yes, that's what he's choosing to focus on, because the rest of it gets a little brain-breaking. Having a brother, though -- that he can sympathize with, even if he's not any more sure why Elijah would want to kill him. If it were Sam --
"Or are you trying to get to him to break him out of whatever mess he got himself into?" If it were Sam, he would try everything he could to save him. Maybe Elijah doesn't want to kill his brother to destroy the Fountain. Maybe he wants to free him to destroy it.
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"The latter, preferably. My sister would be quite disappointed if I returned without her favorite brother."
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Well, at least he doesn't have to figure out how he's going to kill a vampire -- at least there's that. He's not sure how he feels about letting another one loose on the world, either, however, and so, after a beat, he ventures, "Just out of curiosity here -- what happens if we say no?"
He has a feeling this is the part where Elijah threatens him, Elena or both.
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Quite literally. He will compel away their ever meeting, set them at the head of the tunnels and they will never have to see each other again. But Elijah intends to get his brother out of here, with or without their help.
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"Seriously?" it's out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "I mean, not that I mind, that'd be great, if we end up deciding to go our separate ways, but this is usually the part where the other guy pulls a gun on us or whatever." Or however vampires actually threaten people. Probably by grabbing them by the throat and hauling them up over their head or something. Either way.
Either way, still a little on uncertain footing, now, he gestures between himself and Elena. "Can we -- do you mind if we take a minute, here?" And actually decide what they're doing.
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He wanders off an acceptable distance from the couple, admiring the decor, while Elena takes Nate's hand and pulls him further off in the opposite direction. If any of the pop culture exposure she's heard about vampires are true, she's pretty sure he'll be able to hear them but it's the illusion of privacy that matters.
"So what do you think?"
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"I don't know. I'm not sure I like the idea of helping a guy who literally just murdered someone, free his vampire brother from captivity, but ... " But he's not sure the alternative is any better, even if Elijah promised he wouldn't hurt them. He's also not sure he really has that much room to talk, for all that he and Elena have killed their share of people today, too, never mind the fact that they technically started it.
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She's not unaware of the fact that Elijah promised he wouldn't hurt them. He never said anything about his brother.
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"I'd say, if worse came to worst, we open the door and run like Hell, but ... " But that might not be enough. Vampires are almost always universally fast, too.
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