Somerville College

Somerville College and its main entrance, the Porters' Lodge, are located at the southern end of Woodstock Road, with Little Clarendon Street to the south, Walton Street to the west and the Radcliffe Observatory Quarter to the north. The front of the college runs between the Oxford Oratory and the Faculty of Philosophy. Somerville has buildings of various architectural styles, many of which bear the names of former masters of the college, located around one of Oxford's biggest quads. Its library is one of Oxford's largest college libraries.

Dun Dun Dun. Dun Dun Dun Dun. Dun Dun Dun Duuuun Dun The chords skreech out from the bass guitar as Liam bites his lip in concentration. He slaps down on the strings again, this time more forcefully, dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun. Suddenly he looks up. "Hey, don' give me that jodgemental stare, jus' because you're a dinosaur. I'm a visionary, I have artistic loisence ta mess wit th classics. This is proper craic" He turns away from the pale figure at the table, draped in a leather jacket and wearing aviators with a chuckle. "If yer gonna be crashin' 'ere a while, you better get used t'it." He slams the chords again, apparently pleased with his work this time. "Anyway, I got students comin' in a bit, you better make yerself scarce, don't want no rumours spreadin' round. Besides, yer a bit of a mood killer, an' I migh' jus' get lucky." He leans his bass against the wall and crosses the room to the figure, in one quick movement he scoops him up and takes him to a box behind the curtain, unceremoniously stuffing him in. "If y' don' behave, I may jus' have t' hand y'over t' m'lady. Sure she'd be glad t'ave ye"  He pulls out his phone as the thought stikes him and texts Mehdi.  Bring parcel ribbon, lots of it. Need to make the box look like a gift. He chuckles again.  There's a knock at the door and he spins around, drawing the curtain before straightening his collar and heading to answer. A young brunette stands the other side, her blouse unbuttoned halfway down and her skirt hanging way up off her knee. "Good evening professor, I'm here for my bass lesson." "Sure you are." He gives a wink and holds the door open, speed texting Mehdi behind his back. Wait a couple of hours though.

Hilarious. Mehdi texts back, equal parts sarcasm and sincerity.  The changeling actually gives his kindred sponsor closer to three hours, having already learned that Liam’s lessons often last longer than expected. So accustomed is he to the professor’s routines that before he knocks and potentially interrupts, he stops to listen at the office door, one conical ear twitching beneath his mask.  

Inside, Mehdi can hear the faint notes of a bass, and a voice talking. To begin with he thinks perhaps he is still too early, but after a while it becomes clear there is only one voice. "You know, if you crash here any longer, I'm going to have to start chargin' y' rent.  Don worry, I'll be fair. How bout y' sword? I like it, so I'm jus' gon' hang it up there."

Rolling his eyes, Mehdi knocks. “Ribbon delivery.” He says, then waits to be let into the room. He nods a greeting as he enters and sets a small paper bag containing several options for color and texture on Liam’s desk. “So, exactly how many brownie points is this little present going to earn you with the lady in charge?”

"Safe t'say more'n a few t' be sure " Liam chuckles. He greets Mehdi with a huge fanged smile. In the corner of the room, the pale figure once again sits in a chair in the aviators and leather jacket now that the guest has gone. *Figure a nice one round his neck would be good. Y'know, a bite me here kinda thing?"  Liam rummages through the bag and picks out a long purple ribbon. "' 'an maybe take that red one t'put on his box. Want the gift t'look planned. What d'you think?" He turns to ask Silas

Mehdi chuckles at the professor’s antics before taking some of the purple ribbon and beginning  to fashion a large bow. “Have you heard from Eve or Rae since everything went down?” 

Liam shrugs. "Tried not to. Less we're tied together the better f'r us all. I took the big risk takin' this bone bag leach as it is." He kicks at Silas'. Reckon' he has a flat somewhere. We should find it an' move out his stuff. Don't want a missing persons investigation." He grimaces.

Mehdi nods. “That wouldn’t be too hard to do. We could load up Jetty and dump his stuff in the Hedge.” He stops his folding and tying for a moment as he thinks. “Would that be enough though? I feel like we should be less concerned about a missing person investigation and more concerned with a missing vampire investigation. Didn’t Silas have a clan or something?” 

Liam nods. "That had crossed my mind, he had a clan in the states, I stayed with him there on tour, which is why he dragged me into this mess in the first place. I owed 'im somewhat." He kicks the table leg. *An you can wipe that smirk off yet face an' all. Maybe she'll sell year back to 'em, maybe she'll eat year. I wount be so complacent if I were you."  He looks back at Mehdi. "Be a while 'fore they notice 'im missin' the regular report 'd be the first thing t'lert 'em. If we cancel 'is rent, should buy us long enough t' offload him an' let th' trail go cold." "Smug git" he kicks out at the table again.

“So do you know where he lived?” he asks, already expecting a no for an answer. On the handful of jaunts they’d taken through the Hedge Silas had always had Mehdi pick him up at outside locations, and clearly Liam was not someone Silas should or would have trusted. The changeling walks over to the inanimate elder vampire and stops for a moment, staring down at the cat which has made a permanent bed of Silas’ chest. With a sigh he begins to run the kindred’s pockets, gingerly moving the feline when necessary only to have the cat settle back in place with an indignant glare once he is done.  He produces a wallet and phone from Silas’ person, the latter of which he places on the table. The wallet he rifles through, pulling out Silas’ bod card, a couple bank cards and a wad of cash. This he flips through with an impressed look before offering Liam a conspiratorial shrug and pocketing half of the pounds.  “No address. Could check his office. Or maybe his phone?” he says, nodding to the device.

"I had an address for him in the states where I stayed wit him. If he has any American bankcards there, that'd be grand." He throws Mehdi the phone. "See if he's got a home number saved."

Liam's phone buzzes and he looks at it briefly, smiles and throws it back down. 20 minutes later, with the ribbons tied he picks it back up and sends a few quick messages. "Mehdi, I have a prima donna to put on her place, but not before we leach some of her fans. Just like the Corrs. So arrogant . Bring the good camera. This needs to be plastered everywhere."

Continued from summertown Returning to his room, Liam sits at the table, checking quickly on Silas and offering him a cup of tea, he ties up the box for the last time. He flips open his laptop, tuts in frustration at the useless battery and plugs it in. Browsing the university sports society page he starts to flick through success stories from last year. The rowing club was an obvious starting point, but gymnasts, fencers and athletes all had successful years too and would prove perfect candidates. He opens a new tab and starts an email. Dear successful student, My name is Professor Liam McCarthy, research fellow and lecturer at Somerville College. I am writing to invite you to take part in my latest study: 'Successful female athletes in higher education: societal pressure and overcoming stereotypes.' I would be delighted if you would consent to a series of interviews and focus groups to gather your perceptions of your treatment at university and hear your experiences around gender discrimination. You will be paid for your time, and if you are a social sciences student gain course credits. A few of you will also be selected for the second phase of the project which will involve further pay and a chance to feature in a national broadcast to help raise the aspirations of young women everywhere. If you are interested, please reply and we will arrange a time later this week to meet in an evening. Kind Regards, Prof. Liam McCarthy Professor of Sociology Somerville College University of Oxford He BCcs in all the names he had found in his quick browse. He would have to push through for ethics approval too, but that wouldn't be a problem, he'd carried out similar studies over the years and resubmitting the template would take an hour. He starts editing the document as he waits for Mehdi's telltale knock.

Liam waits for Mehdi deep into the early hours, talking to himself and Silas, his impatience turns to frustration, annoyance and finally worry. Where are you? Everything ok? He texts, then tries to call, but there is no signal. Must be still in the hedge then. Liam realised he knew little of the place, other than a convenient storage place and once as a travel option. He knew it was a different reality and things didn't always work as expected. Eventually he gives in to day sleep, realising there is nothing more he could do. Early next night he tries the phone again to the same result. Can't lift this on my own. Bit risky, but... He pulls out his phone again to text Michael.  Hey, it's your new friend, sorry to be a pain but I need to move something urgently and early. It's some of Silas' belongings going to another contact who might be able to help. My flat is in Somerville, ask the porter and he'll direct you to me. Hurry, my contact won't wait around.

(Continued from Worstecer College)  Michael follows the directions the porter game him, and knocks on Liam's door. 

Liam is already at the door with a long box. He smiles. "You came! So good of you. Mehdi, you remember fake Silas? Was supposed to help but we'll get to that later. For now, we have two flights of stairs and a corridor to navigate before my contact gets skittish and leaves." Inwardly, Liam breathes a sigh of relief, two minutes earlier and Michael would have seen him wrestling with the cat now locked two doors away in the barely used bathroom.

As Liam talks, Michael is struck again by what an awesomely great guy he is. Michael responds, " Sure. That's the box of stuff we'll be carrying?" and then moves over to pick up one end of the box. As they heft it up, Micahel notices it is heavier than he expected. Perhaps it is books and papers because it definitely isn't clothing. As they start trying to maneuver the box out of the door and into the hallway, Micahel says, "The night he disappeared, Silas went to the Elysium Ball at Balliol College. I was looking at some photos and saw you were there playing with a band. Did you see him by any chance? Was there anyone else there with him? I keep on asking myself where he could be now."

Liam looks at Michael as they walk, weighing him up. "What exactly is it that you do? I keep thinking there's a reason beyond you not being from here that the Prince chose you for this."

As Michael edges backwards out the door and along the bannister towards the top of the stairs, there's a sudden MROWR of protest from behind him. The vampire stumbles backwards over a cat and into the stairs. The box tilts and hits the top step with a thud that makes the end bursts open. revealing a pair of feet in shiny black leather shoes.

*Stop! Do not look at that." The power drops down through Liam's connection to Michael, the words demanding his compliance.

Michael finds himself staring at the stairs, the walls, and everywhere except the box lying on the floor beside him, because, well because Liam had asked him not to. And Michael really wanted to please Liam. But he had seen feet come out of that box.  "Hey Liam," he says, "Why's there a body in the box we are carrying? And there are now three cats here with us, and the one I stepped on looks pissed off." 

"Michael, you have to trust me here. There's a very good reason, and I don't want you to look because knowing anything about this might put you in danger."  Liam hastily slides the body back down the box and puts it back together the best he can. He pops back inside his door for some parcel tape to cover the hole, lamenting all the hard work he and Mehdi had put into making it look beautiful. "The truth is, Silas was connected to that murder on campus. We tracked the person down who killed that person last night. My contact might know someone who can use some form of scent to determine if they also killed Silas. I must confess, I don't really understand, I just do as I'm told. Here, let's get a move on."

The strange feeling Michael had experienced after the box fell dissipates as Liam explains what was going on.  "I hadn't heard about the murder. What happened?"  Michael asks.  Michael picks up the other side of the box and starts walking, keeping his eyes open for any cats that might trip him up again. 

"You didn't hear? It's all anyone is talking about. Some boy got mangled over in Brasenose." Liam keeps a look out too as they go  "Right, this is the last corridor, best you go wait for me at the gate, my contact is quite skittish, then we can go for something to drink and I'll answer all of your questions."

While Liam stands talking with Michael in the foyer of the Maitland building, he notices a group of students watching them and whispering to each other.

Liam's majesty flairs instinctively as he turns to address the whisperers. "Can I help yous all?" He grins at them.

As Liam approaches the group, he realises that Claire from the party on Sunday night is among them. "Oh, we're just fiiine, professor," she purrs, twirling an errant lock of her hair in her hand and looking up at him while she bats her eyelashes.

"Well isn't that something. You know, I was just going to prepare for a gig tomorrow. You wanna come?" He winks at her. "Sure we can find you some entertainment for this evenin' too" He glanced over to where Michael is still waiting. "Michael, perhaps you'd take these people outside and find a bar, text me where it is and I'll meet you for that drink."

Michael instinctively uses his Beast to avoid drawing attention. He watches Liam interact with the students and admires the ease with which he interacts with them, making himself the center of attention. For some reason, it had never occurred to Michael that Liam was a professor, but it made sense. Feeding off students seemed to cross some invisible moral boundary, but many vampires did much worse.  When Liam calls for him, Michael relaxes his Beast and comes forward, fixing a smile on his face.  "Of course," Michael responds to Liam and then turns to the students . "You will have to lead the way, though. I just arrived yesterday and haven't had a chance to visit any of the pubs yet. My name's Michael, and it's nice to meet you."

"That depends," Claire teases, stepping in closer to Liam to look up at him and whisper. "Are you going to drink my blood again?" Her friends giggle knowingly behind her and one turns to react to Michael. "Are you... like the professor?" He asks quietly.

"I see, is that what you told them all?" Liam hisses back at her. "Would you like that?" He whispers right in at her ear, taking in her scent and sensing her pulse just beneath the skin, his tongue flicks out to catch her ear as he speaks.

"Yesss," Claire hisses breathily, all but hanging on Liam as she presses herself against him.

Liam steps away. "Then go find a bar with Michael, I'll be along in a few minutes." He turns sideways gesturing them all past him. "And no more of a crowd ok?"

Claire pouts demonstratively. "Promise you'll come?"

"Of course. Who in their right mind would want to turn you down?"

Claire flicks her hair smugly in response to the compliment. "We'll be in Angels," she tells Liam, taking a couple of steps back towards her friends and Michael. "Don't be late." As the group of students departs with the other vampire in tow, Liam hears a cough from across the foyer behind him. "You're late," Professor Durand notes, tapping at her watch.

"Apologies professor, I hit a couple of snags, but I hope it will be worth the wait." He gives a half bow and gestures to the ribboned box at his side.

"Be careful how you flaunt your nature, Liam," Durand warns him gently, ignoring the box for now. "I will not shield you from a masquerade breach caused by your own hubris."

Liam nods. "I'll be careful. This isn't normal and by the end of the night her friends will think she's crazy."

"We shall see," Durand notes fixing Liam with her gaze for a moment before turning her attention to the box. "So, what is this oversized surprise then? Bring it out of the hall before more people see it."

Liam carefully slides the box inside, grinning proudly as he stands beside it ready for her to open.

Professor Durand rolls her eyes as she unties the ostentatious bow, before opening the box. The lid comes off and for a long moment she simply stares silently at the contents. The air in the room is thick with tension. "Liam, who is this?" She asks quietly.

"An elder vampire, by the name of Silas Mallock." Liam bites his lip, hed expected a more excited response and the tension unnerved him. "A favourite of the prince of Montreal no less, it seems his clan would pay handsomely for his safe return, if that is what you choose to do with him."   Liam gestures again, trying to stoke some pride in his gift. "He led us into the catacombs where we found the masters, demanded we stay despite the obvious magic at play, and almost got us all killed by some magical beast, we barely escaped, and we decided not to let him make any more orders of us." He offers the explanation, more hope than pride by the end as he watches his mentor weighing up his offering. "I thought with his value, he would be of use to you though?"

" We ?!" Durand hisses through her teeth without taking her eyes off of Silas's torpid corpse. "Who else knows about this, Liam?"

"A Mekhat called Rae and Mehdi, my assistant helped me take him down. Another Mekhat was there and a mage called Khalid." If Liam's circulation was in any way natural he would have turned white as a sheet with the fear of angering professor Durand. "Do you not want him? I can take him back..."

" Take him back ?" Durand shrieks, equally incredulously. "To where? The torpid elder store?" She presses a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose. "You are many things, Liam, but I never took you for stupid . You just painted an elder-sized target on my back. What is he? A ventrue? The moment Univ finds out (and, trust me, they will) we're both as good as ash. You're lucky that I need you to cover our asses, or I'd be of half a mind to exsanguinate you right here and now. "

Liam shrinks under her anger. "He... I'm sorry, I thought you would like to ransom him back for a favour, or wake him and bind him to you or... I don't know, I heard they were valuable."

Professor Durand sighs, finally turning away from Silas to pace around her office. Across the room, Liam's cat hops up atop the desk to meow at the professor's, who is lying curled up in the middle of it. Silas's maine coon sits resolutely besides the enormous box, staring at Durand. "If you'd told me in advance, I could maybe have made that work. Now that you've brought him here - with witnesses, no less - it looks planned. Who else knows that you came here tonight?"

"Nobody knows he is in this box. Those mortals were so obsessed with me that they probably didn't notice it. Michael is some neophyte they sent to look for Silas, I can just tell him I found him and his search is over."

"...and your assistant and the mage and the Mekhets." Durand recants. "Who else are you forgetting, Liam? I can't take that risk." She turns to regard the corpse inside the box once more. "'They' sent? Who is they? Who is looking for him?"