Enjoy, enjoy. The first of a little WilliamxIsaak series, because AS was getting on my nerves a little. Clavicula Nox, everyone. May contain spoilers for canon, but I really don't know.
He stirred his tea around for a fair few minutes, most of his general awareness absent from his study. William, after all, was a great thinker, even if most of his realized dreams did have one or two odd things about them or caused harm to those within a 20m radius. He really did 'think outside the box', as he had heard it before from some old university type, but at the moment it was not a question of what was on his mind, but who. It troubled him sometimes, that he should still be thinking about this one face from long ago, when most other faces from those Londinium times had crawled slowly into obscurity; this was the one image he did not want to remember, yet he couldn't help but think what had happened to Isaac Butler since their joint expulsion. Because even though Isaac had killed William's dearest, he still held a curious interest for this man.
The changes since they had last met, at least physically, were quite vivid even though all William had to go by was a crumpled photo from the pockets of a fellow AX agent. The Isaac that William knew all those years ago bore striking resemblance to the young Professor; dark brown hair, green (but oddly empty) eyes and impeccable dress sense. Now though, Isaac was veiled in a curtain of black hair which stretched down past his waist, to come to rest somewhere past his thighs (which still kept their lean figure, William noted). His dull green eyes had finally given up their substance, and were now black with just a tinge of red. William looked with some sort of pity upon the photograph: as an ordinary human he did age, showing wrinkles as proof, but he still kept the visage of life. Isaac on the other hand appeared as Death incarnate, and no amount of hair could cover that up. William sighed at his tea. It was most probably cold now; a sip proved it, and the Professor drank it in one go.
His tea finished, the Professor locked the door to his study. An interruption would not be the best thing considering what he was to do next. Rifling through pens, papers and other miscellanea scattered on his desk, William came up with what he wanted. One particularly battered slip of paper, on which was scrawled in spidery hand an address in the town of Thurm, Sacksen (or Saxony, as he was inclined to translate in his head). Beneath it, a telephone number. The Professor was not sure whether the number would still work or not; it had been many years and with the volatile nature of Isaac's life the number and address may well belong to someone else now. Regardless, William dialed the numbers…
This is to show I am not completely evil. William is such a dear. Clavicula Nox: the key of the night. A symbol employed by the Dragon Rouge magical order, which began in Sweden. And those of you into metal would also know it as the title of a song by Therion (who are quite close with the order, so I hear). Believed to be an astral key, unlocking the doors to different experiences...Hmm, Summer always gets me down, so a little WxI should be the remedy. Perhaps I will update AS soon...perhaps.