Chapter Text
|-Thursday afternoon, April 4th, 2024. Museum of the Bizarre, 201 South Water Street, Wilmington, North Carolina-|
"Aight, so we's back hea, huh? How 'bout dat..." Cam starts talkin'. I reckon he's got... a hankerin' and a hesitatin' 'bout this here place. But if we aim to get some answers... We might just have to mosey on back. Long as that li'l exhibit's still kickin' 'round, anyways. Two more weeks, they say, 'cause folks just can't get enough. Ain't that somethin'...
"Maybe we overlooked somethin'. Maybe that curator fella knows a thing or two." I pipe up, tryin' to 'splain myself, but Cam ain't bitin', plain as day. We mosey on up to the museum door, and I already got a hankerin' somethin' ain't right. Feels like somethin's got its eyes on us. Can't say who or what though. And it ain't a good feelin', not one bit. But me and Cam, we press on ahead, goin' straight for that little feller. For Him. I'm just hopin' we can git somethin' outta this mess. We stood there gawkin' at the display for a spell 'til we reckon we caught somebody's eye. A woman with blue hair moseys over, lookin' like she wants to pick our brains.
"Anything we can help you gentlemen with?" She looks at us, eyes dartin' 'tween me, Cam, and that there display. She finally lands on Cam, figurin' she'd ruther hear it from him than from me, bless her heart.
"Who put up this display?" He asks her, his voice the steadiest it's been the whole dang time he's been 'round here. Her eyes dart back to that little contraption 'fore comin' back to Cam.
"Uh... Let head in the back to check. I know it was someone from Europe." She says that 'fore she takes off walkin', headin' to the back or whatnot o' this here museum. Takes her a minute or two, maybe, 'fore she comes back out with another woman right behind her. I reckon this here other woman's the one that put up this little spread. She sees me and Cam just standin' there lookin' all teetotaled. She eyeballs us up and down 'fore moseyin' on over.
"Grüß Gott. I am told zat you vanted to meet vis me?" She's talkin', got that German twang somethin' fierce. Shore ain't used to speakin' English all that much, I reckon. This here's gonna be somethin' else.
"Uh... reckon so?" I say, not rightly knowin' what all to say here. She squints at me, them gray eyes a-doing their thing as she sizes me up. Then, she takes a good holt of air.
"Well, if you two vill come vis me." She says, turnin' on a dime, and motions for me and Cam to come on. He's the first to budge, lookin' to get it done with. So, I reckon I got to hoofin' it. 'Fore long, we done ended up in somethin' that looked like an office. Small and kinda homey, or as homey as any office gets, I reckon. First thing I seen was a whole heap o' books piled up on the desk. Betcha they was 'bout some kinda old-timey stories from, you know, Germany or Austria way. Then, the woman, she grabs one of them books and flips it open 'fore she goes and sets her down.
"So, vat vould you gentlemen like to know?" She goes, lookin' at Cam whilst I'm checkin' out the name tag on the desk. It says 'Heidi Wasserman'. But I ain't got no time to sit and ponder on that 'cause Cam chimes in.
"What else do you know about that display? Not really a lot of information to go off of." He's fixin' to just tear that band-aid off quick-like, he is. Short, sweet, and right to the point. Just what I'm used to from him, bless his heart. Heidi glances at Cam, then at the book, then back at Cam. I kin see the wheels spinnin' in her head. She's tryin' to figure out what to say. She takes a big ol' breath and finally pipes up.
"Zere is a bevy of places ve could start. Zis book, for example." Heidi pipes up, pointin' at this book she's been porein' over. Me and Cam, we both glance down at it. Lord have mercy, it's somethin' else. Mostly stuff I just can't make heads or tails of. Shoot, lookin' at some of them pictures and whatnot just makes my head swim. Feels like I'm fixin' to lose my ever-lovin' mind the more I look at it. I finally look up and meet Heidi's eyes.
"Now, what in the Sam Hill is all that?" I ask, hopin' to get some answers out of her. She glances up at me, then back down at that book. She stares at it for a spell 'fore lookin' back at me.
"It is... Wie ma des ausdrücken tät... I don't vant to say 'demonology' because ze subject of ze display is no demon, but... It is ze closest zing zat one can describe Him as." She finally goes, pointin' to a picture of Him in the book.
The sight of it... Lawd, I don't rightly know how to put it. Not how He looked, 'cause that's plain as day. He looks like a young'un wearin' rags, hair all down to His mouth, kinda hidin' His face. It's... somethin' else, though. Like He's watchin' me and Cam right through that picture, through the book there. Speak'n of Cam... he's sweatin' like a sinner in church. I see his eyes goin' all over the picture, then all over the page, takin' it all in. But then they stopped... and I reckon I know why. Just waitin' on Cam to say it now.
"The Crow..." He's a-mutterin' somethin' under his breath. I take my eyes off'n him and follow where he's a-pointin'. Don't take long to see it: Murim. That dang ol' crow. Heidi sees what we're lookin' at, and she gets all curious-like.
"Ah... ze Crow. You know of him?" She goes, lookin' dead at Cam. He don't look back, though. His eyes stay glued to that there picture of Murim in the book. He just can't seem to peel 'em off it. "Somethin' like dat..." He's a-mutterin' somethin' under his breath. He figures Heidi ain't gonna hear him, but she does. Now, the question is if she'll believe him when he says he's been havin' to do with that dadgum Crow ever since he lit out for Wilmington. Reckon she might. Reckon she might not. Ain't but one way to know for sure.
"Vere did you first hear about him? Out wis it. Ka Notwendigkeit, scheu zu sein." Heidi says, just a-wantin' to hear it straight from Cam hisself.
"Yous wouldn't even believe me..." He answers back, soundin' all tore up about it.
Heidi, she takes another big ol' breath, lookin' dead at Cam, who finally gets his eyes off that there book. Makin' hard eyes at somebody. This ain't gonna end good, I reckon.
"Zere are a lot of zings I can believe, mein Bursche." She tells Cam, face serious as a heart attack. Cam, though... not so much. He's all fidgety. He's shakin' like a leaf on a tree. Ain't good. Not one bit.
"If I said dat murderbird was chasin' me?" He answers, lookin' Heidi square in the face, he does. She kinda squirms a bit, lookin' back and forth between Cam and that there book. I reckon he's done got her. She's plum bamboozled. Don't rightly know what to say. Takes her a hot minute 'fore she starts talkin' again.
"Ze Crow is... Di verfolg'n? Chasing you? How interesting." She done finally answered back. I ain't sure if it's 'cause she's nosy, wantin' to know more, or if she just don't believe it. I'm leanin' towards the last one, just goin' by how she's carryin' herself and makin' faces. But it could be somethin' else. Some folks is good at hidin' stuff, coverin' up what they really feel, you know. "And vy do you zink he might be after you?" She then goes and asks Cam. Which reminds me: Has he figured out yet why Murim's so dadgum hung up on him?
"Don't know. All he tells me is to make me one of His proxies. Whatev'a the hell dat means." Cam answers back. Reckon he still ain't figured it out. Doubt he ever will. But then Heidi up and speaks again.
"I seh's. I seh's... I didn't zink zat you vood know. No offense, of course." She says, swingin' 'round in her chair to grab another book. I only caught a quick peek at the cover, but from what I could see, it looked like it's about some kinda folk tales and ghost stories from out west in Austria. Reckon we done struck gold comin' here today, judgin' by this new thang. I can only guess what Cam's thinkin' 'bout right now. "Ze Crow is a tricky vun to pin down. Unlike ze Snake, he is... More blunt, to say ze least. Aba trotzde, he can still be quite visholting." She says, crackin' open the book and flippin' right to a page 'bout Murim. Shoot, it's just 'bout ever'thing we could've hoped for: Where he come from. What he looks like. What he can do. Why he do it. How he's connected. The kind of critter he is. How Cam ain't got a holt of somethin' like this 'fore today is... Well, I reckon I just don't rightly know.
"Holy shit..." That's all Cam could come up with, didn't even bat an eye 'bout the cussin' he just let loose. Heidi just kinda chuckles. "I feel like such a jagoff right now..."
Heidi jes slides that book right over to us. It's like she knows Cam's gotta work this thang out for himself. Like she can see whatever's been buggin' Cam in his eyes. Like she sees it and feels for him, bless her heart.
"Here, take zis vit you. I get ze feeling zat you vill need it more zan me." She says, then motions for us to git. Me and Cam just look at each other a sec, then he reaches out and grabs the book, pullin' out a little piece of paper and foldin' it up like a homemade bookmark, stickin' it right there on the Murim page 'fore shuttin' the book. After that, we start moseyin' on.
|-That evening. 105 Pinecrest Parkway-|
"Hold on now, lemme git this straight: They ain't no demons? What the Sam Hill you talkin' 'bout?" Bo 'e says, all riled up an' annoyed, judgin' by the way 'e's talkin'. Can't blame 'im, mind. Didn' want to believe it neither, me 'ansum. But then I started diggin', see? Best get to explainin', I reckon.
"Hard to swaller, I knows. But that book's tellin' the truth, Bo." I tells 'im, me eyes flittin' 'tween 'im an' Cam. 'E's right caught up in it, proper. Guess 'e's workin' 'is way through all sorts o' plans to fight Murim. Dunno if most o' 'em'll work out like 'e wants, though. That Crow, 'e's a right tearaway, mind. Lucky for 'im 'tis Murim chasin' 'im. If 'twas Aziel... e'd be six feet under first night, 'e would. She ain't fussed 'bout makin' folk His proxies. She just wants 'em to suffer something awful. I should know, aye... Memories flood back, they do, rubbin' me neck, feelin' that raised skin where Aziel's mark be. Wish I could be rid o' it, I do...
"Well now, if they ain't demons... what in tarnation are we gonna do? How we gonna... ya know... SCRAP 'EM?" Bo's askin', voice all het up still, see? He tries to say more, but the words, they just won't come out. But never you mind. Seems Cam's been listenin' the whole blessed time, 'e has.
"They might not be demons, but any jawn that keeps demons away still seems to work on 'em." 'E sez, eyes glued to th' book 'e got from th' museum, see? Dunno what's goin' on in 'is 'ead right now, mind, but 'tis bound to be summat worth a go. Leastways, that's 'ow 'e figures it. "Still nothing on what He or His marquises are, though. Book doesn't really seem to have answers to that."
"'Ere, what's it sayin' then, Cam?' I asks 'im, managin' to get 'is eyes off the book an' over 'ere for once. First time since 'e's opened the bleedin' thing. Proper job. We can start chattin' now, us can. His eyes darted back down to the book, afore comin' back up to me an' Bo, see. That's when 'e starts speakin', mind.
"From what I've read, the two most prevalent theories are that they are either different kinds of imps or 'shadow beings'. Take that information however you will." He's explainin', see, catchin' Bo's ear. An' 'tisn' lookin' proper good, mind.
"Ain't imps little devils?" He's askin' Cam, mind, not trustin' 'im right off. Cam's about to say summat, but I stops 'im afore the words get out.
"Imps, see, they only started gettin' mixed up with demons 'round the 16th Century. 'Til then, they was always seen as forest spirits, more like the wee folk. Proper fairies, like. 'Specially in Britain an' Ireland. I'm Cornish, me 'ansum. Us 'as got plenty o' tales 'bout pixies an' that, us 'as. Not that it matters much, mind. In old German tales, demons weren't always bad. But then again: We ain't dealin' with demons here, are we?" I says, gettin' 'em both lookin' sharpish. "Nay. We're dealin' wiv summat else entirely, proper. Truth be told, I don't quite rightly understand 'em meself," I say, thinkin' on how little I truly know. I watch Bo and Cam havin' a proper think for a few seconds 'fore Bo speaks up.
"So what's the move? We done with salt circles? Reckon holy water won't do 'em no good?" 'E asks, voice all trembly now. I goes to say summat, but Cam gets there first, 'e does.
"Salt can still repel them. Certain sigils and runes, too. Don't know about holy water, though..." He starts up, keepin' a proper eye on Bo's face. Once he's certain the redneck's payin' heed, Cam carries on. "Have to use... well... you saw the bandages on my hand. I think you get the idea." He goes on, watchin' Bo's face turn proper grim again. Reckon he's gone and reminded him o' our little lark the o'er night. Bo don't say a word. Not for a bit. He opens his mouth, lookin' like he's tryin' to say summat, but naught comes out. Takes a few more seconds, mind, but he finally finds his voice.
"So how we gonna fight 'em? If there's even a way to do it, that is." ’E’s off then, ’e is. Don't know a bloody thing, does ’e? How we gonna tell ’im without makin' a proper fuss? Reckonin' on ’is business with Murim... Is it even wise to tell 'im, is it?
"Dunno. I ain't sayin' nothin' bout that. But you can hurt him." I 'eard Cam sayin'. 'E... 'e went and hurt Murim? How's that then? What was 'e up to? This proper job, I swear... 'e's gonna get 'imself killed, 'e is.
"What in 'ell were 'ee doin', then?" I asks 'im, tryin' to get the proper truth out of 'im.
"Brooch keeps me hidden, remember? Used that to my advantage. Snuck up behind him and smacked him with a hammer." 'E starts goin'. A hammer? A hammer? That's all 'e used? No fancy magic then? No silver bullets? But a hammer? THAT'S how Cam did Murim in? Just proper old blunt force, is it? You must be bloody jokin' me... Proper job, it's that simple? Why wouldn't it be then? Occam's Razor and all that codswallop. Just go and batter them marquises, plain as day. Why didn't I think of that? I'm lookin' proper at Cam, tryin' my best to get the truth out of 'im. "Wot were 'ee doin' then?" I ask, keepin' my voice steady, even if I be feelin' a bit proper tense.
"Poking around the Brunswick Nature Park after hours. Started banging on trees. Got the Crow's attention. Brooch didn't like that, though. Told me to stop."
Wasson he sayin'? The brooch proper talked to 'im? I... No, proper not. 'E's tellin' lies, 'e is. That brooch can't...
"The brooch... talked to 'ee? You sure you ain't gone completely 'addle?" I ask 'im, still can't believe it. Bo looks proper stunned too, can't believe 'is ears.
"Cam... listen... a brooch ain't gonna talk, Cam. I reckon you're fixin' to go plumb crazy." I hear Bo sayin' that, mind. But Cam don't lookhin' at all bothered or low, he don't. Instead, he's just standin' there, lookin' back and forth 'tween the two of us.
"I know what I said. Dat pin is yappin' to me." He starts up again, lookin' back and forth 'tween the two of us, 'fore he carries on. "It's like... It's almost childish, but... Not a young girl. More like a young woman. And she doesn't know where she is." 'E starts goin', I... what's I meant to say to all that, then? How? What's the answer? I can't just take 'is word for it, can I? I'll be needin' proof, me. I wanders over, hand out, wantin' to grab that brooch back for a sec.
"Gimme that, then. I need to hear it proper meself." I tell 'im, noddin' for 'im to pass over Elise's old brooch. Cam's havin' a bit o' a pause, though. He's steppin' back from me, he is.
"I don't... I don't even know if you're gonna hear it." He says, lookin' proper unsure. I give 'im a proper glare for a bit, an' that gets 'im to let go o' the brooch.
"I'll give this back." I tell 'im, holdin' it up to me ear. But there's naught to hear. I hold it there a bit longer, thinkin' if I keep quiet, I might catch a sound. But naw. Naught comin' from that brooch at all. I turn back to Cam, lookin' at 'im proper fierce, like I'm aimin' daggers straight at his brain. He's havin' a laugh, he is. 'E's gotta be.
"What kind o' codlins is this then?" I asks 'im, proper cross, you can hear it in my voice. But Cam's just gawpin'. Not at me, mind, but at the brooch. Reckon he's hearin' summat. Proper wanker, 'im.
"Whoever's in dere ain't trustin' you none after dat." He's goin', actin' like he's heard summat again. I glance o'er at Bo, and a thought comes to me. Reckon he might get summat from this little brooch, then. So I waltz on up to 'im and hand it o'er, settin' it soft-like in 'is palm. Me and Cam, we just watch as Bo holds it up to 'is ear for a few seconds, we do.
"I ain't... hearin' a lick of nothin'." Bo goes on, havin' a swap o'er to the udda ear. A few more seconds o' quiet passes 'fore he speaks up again. "Aw, come on now... I ain't gonna hurt ya..." Proper time goes by, but Bo gives in in the end. He wanders over to Cam and hands the brooch back, lookin' right defeated, he is. "I reckon you're fixin' to lose your mind, Cam."
Cam holds that brooch up to 'is ear, an' listens proper close for a bit. Far longer than me or Bo did, mind. He stops now an' again, givin' the stone queer looks. Right then, I'm thinkin' he might actually be hearin'... somethin'. But what somethin' that might be, I can't rightly say. Not 'til he speaks up, anyway.
"You-" ’E says, pointin' right at me, ’ee. "Doesn't quite like you. Bo, on the other hand..."'Is eyes wander 'round an' land right on Bo. "It's conflicted. Doesn't know what to think of him." Quiet settles 'round the room again, an' this time, it's stickin'. It's proper awkward, too, mind. So much so, I'm thinkin' one of 'em's lurkin' right 'ere, waitin' to pounce. Aziel... Murim... don't matter none. One of 'em's a right proper headache. Then Cam takes a deep breath, stands up, and looks straight at me, he does.
"I'm out. Brooch sayin' the Crow is wit' us."
Properly reckon there's no rest for the wicked, is there?
|-Friday Witching Hour, April 5th, 2024. Oakdale Cemetery, 520 North 15th Street-|
I sensed something. Something foreign yet familiar. It wasn't the stench of Walpurga, though I did smell the hag in that house. Cameron must've been nearby if I could smell her. Him and that brooch. No... This is a different scent. One that Aziel may be for familiar with: The Celt. Of all times to visit the dead... Senara chooses this hour? Does she not know the time? Irrelevant, I suppose. Compared to the grand scheme of things. Compared to my schemes. Perhaps I can strong arm information out of her. It's always worked beautifully before. Why think otherwise now? I scan the gravestones, eyes straining to see anything that they can I spot movement far off in the distance, blured by shadow and motion. Perhaps that is her. There is only one way to truly know.
I take flight, removing myself from the branch I had perched onm feeling the wind beneath my gold wings as I soar through the night. I follow my senses, wanting to see what that movement was. As I get closer to it's origin, I see clearly that it was, indeed, the Celt. She is sat on a bench nearby. I can be crafty. I can be... hidden. I land on the nearest branch in near total silence, the only sound being the wind rushing form beneath my wings and leafs rustling above. Senara is none the wiser.
Or so I think...
"Think you're proper clever, do'ee?" I hear her say. There's no possible way she saw me. Not with how little light there is. I stay silent, not wanting to give away anything to her. I will merely observe. But she continues to rant, regardless.
"Proper smart, you are. Right clever, too. Proper sneaky, mind. It ain't like I didn't spot 'ee the minute I stepped through these graves. You can't be hidin' from me." She mumbles to herself. She can't possibly be referring to me.
"All this proper bother. All this skulking 'round. What's it all for, then? I ain't worth a penny to 'ee." She continues mumbling. I suppose she still blames herself for what happened seven years ago. She pleaded and pleaded and pleaded for my Master to take her instead. Yet for whatever reason, He didn't. He took the good company, but did not bestow His blessing upon Senara. Quite the odd situation. Even to this day. I constantly argue with Aziel as to why the Master made such a brash decision. Is it because He saw something in Senara that we couldn't? Perhaps. But just as plausible is that He simply wanted to see a naive young woman suffer. The rant continues.
"An' now 'as you a fresh prize, then. A new target. New prey. Someone else for you to be meddlin' 'bout with. 'As 'e'll end up like me, then? Or 'as you got summat else planned for Cameron, Murim?" She turns her head to look directly at the branch I am perched on. I am top stunned to respond in any way. How? How did she know where I was? I could've sworn that I was silent on my approach. "Speak up, ye daft cunt."
An insult of that caliber is to be taken seriously. I remove myself from this new perch and fly to the ground. I land in front of Senara, underneath a street lamp, it's light reflecting magnificently off my golden feathers.
"How crude. How disrespectful. How... abhorrent of you, Senara. I never took you to be so profane." I tell her, letting the woman take in my avian form for a few seconds before I continue on. "You should be grateful that you still live. Others in your position were... not so fortunate.
"Nought so lucky? Proper lucky, they were. Had their bit of peace, even if it cost 'em their lives. Got their sweet rest, even if they're stuck in BIrealm for eternity. But me... you've gone and taken it all. Left me naught but a shadow of who I were. What kind of devilry you think you're playing, you little scamp?" She responds, eyes gleaming with daggers as she speaks. Seems the memories are... not to her liking. Not that I care all that much. I hop around, light continuing to gleam off my feathers and into her eyes. A distraction. But one that is seen through. "Wha' you wantin', Murim? Proper knows you can't do nuffin' to me, an' that."
"Where is Cameron? What is he planning? And what kind of audacity have you filled him with?" I ask her, getting to the point so I do not have to wallow in her smell for longer than I have to.
"I'm tellin' thee naught. If I can keep one soul from His sight, then proper so be it." She says, voice rough and edged. But ti is a useless ploy. For as little as I can do to her, what with Aziel's brand being on her neck, it also renders her incapable of doing much to me. So in lieu of physical coercion, a witty joust is what will be required to extract the information that I want.
I continue to hop around, eyes darting from Senara to the surrounding graves. Perhaps I could raise some of the dead that have been interred six feet under these grounds. Use that as my leverage. 'Refuse to cooperate with me, and you will be torn limb from limb.' But that would be too easy. And too messy. Someone could potentially see the altercation. I'd rather avoid causing mass hysteria.
"Hmm... of course you'd say that. But I have my ways of getting what I want." I tell her, red eyes gleaming into her soul. I remember much about Senara. Every one of her little insecurities. Those same insecurities I, Aziel and ultimately the Master preyed upon. Perhaps those could still be leveraged. "Perhaps a chance at redemption. To truly achieve what it is you desire."
Senara stands. Her anger is evident. I have struck a nerve. Good. Exactly what I wanted. "How many times arr we gonna play this game, then? I want naught to do wiv you. Wiv that Snake. Wiv His 'blessings'. I'll burn that damn bleedin' castle to the ground if I must, or I'll die tryin'."
"Oh, you will certainly die trying, Senara. You know that He cannot be fought. That He is immovable. That He is unstoppable." I tell her, twisting the knife ever so slightly. I then sit and gauge her reaction. It is... not what I was expecting it to be. That rage is still there, yes. But it is more... focused. Senara begins to walk towards me. I know what her intent is. Is she really that foolish? One step after another after another. Until she is standing right in front of me. I look up, and then shift form. "If I can't do anything to you, what makes you think you can do things to me? That brand works both ways, you know." I tell her, stretching my wings to their full span in a show of intimidation. I am now seriously considering raising the dead. If for any reason than to further intimidate Senara. But if it is required...
"And you reckon I'd 'fargot that... why? I ain't as daft as you're thinkin', Murim." She says, staring me down. But I remain unfazed, even as her gaze intensifies. "I might not be able to do owt to 'ee. But Cam surely can. Reckon, what happened 'tother night then?"
I take one step towards the Celt, noting how she doesn't flinch like she used to. She certainly has grown bolder... But it won't save her here. There is one thing I could potentially do. Something that would ensure she stops being a thorn in my side for future endeavors. But would it work? How would one with two marks operate? If two marks can be applied? I know they take the other's place. But this... Ah, to hell with thinking. Let impulse take over.
whoosh
"AH!"
I swing around a wing, the golden orbit at it's mid point briefly making eye contact with Senara. I hear her grunt in pain, and when I see her again, she is on her knees, clutching her face. But she simply laughs. As if she expected this to happen. How fascinating.
"You're a right proper cunt, you know that? But I reckon nuffin'll come o' it, proper." She says as she gets back to her feet. Oh, how foolish of her. Thinking that she is safe. While Aziel's brand remains on her neck... my sigil has re-appeared within her eye. Good. Very good...
"Always sleep with one eye open, Senara." I say as I shift back into my avian form. I then fly up to the nearest branch, watching as Senara tries to make sense of what has just occurred. She looks around, trying to find me. but then, she takes out a little black box, and peers at herself in it's obsidian like reflection. I then hear her laugh once more. this time, it is more cynical. More... defeated. Like she realizes how futile her efforts are.
"Properly so. Of COURSE. Of bloody COURSE. I'm as daft as he reckons, then. Now I'm fair game for 'im again, ain't I? Proper interestin' to see how it goes. Maybe this nightmare can finally be done with." She turns slowly, still laughing to herself as she does so. "Proper job, Murim. Thee little scamp." She then begins to walk away. Towards that house that no longer offers her protection. Not like it ever did.
"Yes. I agree, Senara. This will be very interesting." I mutter to myself as my murder gathers around me. They already know their orders: Follow Senara. See where she goes. Who she interacts with. And importantly: Hwo she can lead me back to Cameron. My Master is more than willing to see how he can operate as a proxy, after all.