Deeper in the Rabbit hole.

The guards looked down at Angel as he approached, cocking mirrored eyebrows at him as he spoke. Findelo? "Are you asking about Mister Findero Lauden?" one of the guards asked softly, amusement in his tone. He gave a shake of his head. "This is the O'Connor Manor, not the Lauden Manor. If you're looking for the madman, he's probably at the Urakami Cathedral. Follow this road, and it'll be on your right."

The other guard simply laughed to himself as they both went back to their stiff, perfect posture, staring out into the streets like statues. It didn't matter what else he asked or said, they would go about ignoring him.

As most would, until he managed to get to the church. The priest was standing just outside the double wooden doors, a grin plastered across his kind, old face. He motioned for those that made their ways up the stairs to join him and seemed, even up close, to be completely human. "Welcome! Welcome! Konbonwa!"

The priest looked down at the little Kindred, that smile never faltering from his face. A few stairs above him, he managed to still look taller than the Tremere. "Ahh, Master Lauden," he said happily, bending over to look him in his eye. He motioned for him to go inside if he wanted to. "There are three alter boys who stay just inside. One of them will take you to Master Lauden!"

He would turn, then, dismissing him entirely to continue welcoming the other people that might wander in. Just as he said, there were a few boys inside, all wearing the robes known to their profession. They were standing there silently, all smiling the same, comforting smile, looking exactly like the priest had. "Welcome!" they all said in unison.

Not one of the alter boys faltered when they said the name of the vampire lord who ruled here. They all peered up at him, open curiosity mirrored perfectly in all of their eyes. It was obvious that he was as focused as he could be, given the situation, but they didn't bother to comment. "Yes, of course," the one on the left said. "Jordan here can take you down to meet the Master."

It seemed they were also not too concerned about the possibility of breaking the Masquerade. The alter boy in the middle silently nodded to Angel, turning to lead him towards the office off to the side, away from the door. The huge, metal door opened to a staircase, leading downwards into the basement of the church.

The stairs would seem to go on for far too long, as if they might never end. He wasn't spoken to, so the alter boy didn't bother trying to strike up any kind of conversation. Eventually, the staircase would swerve to one side, and there would be an end in sight. The same huge, thick metal door that stood on the top of the stairs loomed over them. The boy didn't bother trying to open it and, instead, stepped aside for Angel to enter into Finn's humble abode, should he make that choice. Bowing at the waist, he waited.

Just beyond the door was a large room, made entirely of cement. The walls, floors, and ceiling were the same unforgiving stone, staring at him. The floor was the only thing decorated, almost completely covered in thick, blood red rugs, with fainting couches, chairs, and pillows all around, in seemingly random places. There was nobody else present in the room, but as he turned to look at towards the back, there was a tall, wiry throne.

It looked as if it were directly removed from some sort of medieval torture chamber, with a straight back and no padding. It surely couldn't be comfortable, not even for the seven foot tall mad genius that adorned it. His legs were idly crossed, elbow braced against one arm and fingers tracing his lips. Cold, chiseled green eyes peered at the Tremere, unblinking. At his feet was an unconscious human, looking far too pale to be healthy. The woman was naked and stained in blood, quite possibly dead.

Just behind the Malkavian Primogen were a set of thick, cast iron chains, dangling from the roof. They shifted and moved, as if holding something, but nothing could be seen.

"Finally come to ask me about the book, have you?"

"Do you not?" he asked, casually. He didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter as a slow, amused smile crossed his features. The rest of his giant frame was inhumanely still, his head tilted at an awkward angle. The entire room seemed to exist within the confines of a time bubble, where the only thing allowed free movement was the rattling links of chain behind the Malkavian Primogen.

Then, suddenly, Finn broke the spell by motioning with one white gloved hand for Angel to join him within the walls of his home. "Please, come in. Amy insisted I make this room and the church upstairs an Elysium." Of course, that did not extend to his private quarters, nor to the laboratory, both of which were well hidden. "You are safe here, as long as you don't make any direct act against the Traditions, you're safe."

The words "for now" hovered, unspoken and suspended, in the air between them.

Finn seemed completely oblivious to his guest's discomfort. He was, for a moment, infatuated with the way the maggots crawled across his skin, begging to be plucked away from him one... by... one. His empty eye-socket was nearly full, and the placid skin that was not covered seemed to be rotting off in chunks. It made the Malkavian's little, dead heart skip a beat, his interest finally piqued.

He motioned towards the closest seating to him: a simple red velvet fainting chair, vintage in every sense of the word. "Come," he invited Angel, though it did not seem to be a request. It was easy to see, in those moments, why somebody would be intimidated by the Primogen, even without the use of his powers. "Sit. Please. It would be rude of you to stand." A very concealed threat, accompanied by a dangerous and predatory smile.

Surprisingly, nothing changed as he sat down. In fact, the couch was quite comfortable; plush in a way that was long forgotten over the years. It was obvious that Finn wanted his guests to enjoy their time in his home, even if those guests were usually of his own Clan. It was rare that somebody dared to push the Malkavian Primogen. He was, after all, not known for his hospitality.

"Of course you don't," he cooed, his hand falling back to the same position it had been in when Angel first arrived. The chains rattled louder, as if trying to get the Tremere's attention, but Finn paid them no mind. He seemed to have eyes only for his guest, in that moment. "You have interest in that book, in Sargon. Is that right? You want to know what will happen if you find the other fragments?"