Partners × In × Crime

Van Helsing

- - - WESTON CITY // DECEMBER 21ST - - -

Aurelius sits at the mahogany dining table, peering over his reading glasses. His breakfast plate is piled with scrambled eggs, a slice of sourdough toast slathered in blackberry jam, and an assortment of fruit. He chases down the last bite of egg with a sip of steaming coffee before turning to Zane, who stands beside him.

"Zane," He begins, wiping his mouth clean with a linen napkin, "What's the latest on our friends attending this conference? Has Caspian Graves confirmed yet?"

"Yes, Aurelius. All attendees have confirmed their participation, including Caspian Graves," Zane replies, his voice as calm as a still lake while he glances at the guest list on his tablet one last time. 

His fingers dance smoothly over the screen, scrolling through names and profiles of each attendee.

"And don't worry about security either," He continues nonchalantly, "I've taken care of everything necessary to ensure your safety during this event."

Aurelius chuckles lightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "My dear boy, I am not worried about my safety," He comments, waving away Zane's concerns as he stands from the table. He straightens out his vest and bowtie, adjusting them meticulously in front of a nearby mirror.

"What I'm more interested in is whether our rivals have any tricks up their sleeves for this meeting," Aurelius adds with a sly smile playing on his lips.

"Rivals always have tricks, Aurelius," Zane responds with an impassive shrug, taking a sip of his black coffee, "It's their modus operandi after all. However," He says quickly before Aurelius can interject, "I've been monitoring our rivals' activities closely and so far, nothing seems out of the ordinary."

"Ah, Zane," Aurelius chides gently, "You've got the mind of a fox but sometimes you're as cautious as a dormouse," He lets out another soft chuckle, "But I appreciate your vigilance, nonetheless. Keeps things interesting for an old man like me."

Zane smirks, shaking his head slightly, "Well, I suppose it's better to be a cautious dormouse than a reckless fox," He retorts.

A hearty laugh escapes Aurelius' lips, "Oh, I wouldn't trade you for all the reckless foxes in the world!" He declares jovially, "But enough about that," He says, suddenly serious as if switching off an invisible switch, "Let's prepare for this meeting. We need to be on our toes."

"Of course, Aurelius," Zane replies promptly, setting his empty coffee cup on the table and reaching for his tablet again. His gaze sharpens as he plans their schedule for the day.

As Zane busies himself, Aurelius' attention is drawn to an old coin glinting on a side table. He reaches out to pick it up, the worn texture of the ancient metal triggering a surge of nostalgia.

"A penny for your thoughts..." He murmurs absentmindedly as he studies the coin in his hand.

----------

A young Aurelius, a boy of 10 years old, sits by the window, his hands pressed against the cold glass. Outside, snowflakes fall gently from an ashen sky, blanketing Weston City in a mantle of white. It's Christmas Eve, his birthday - another one spent without gifts.

His heart feels heavy as he watches other children frolicking in the snow outside, their joyous laughter echoing through the empty streets. He doesn't blame his parents for not being able to afford presents since they're barely managing to put food on the table as is. A strained sigh escapes his lips and fogs up the glass in front of him.

Suddenly, behind him, a familiar voice interrupts his silent lament, "A penny for your thoughts?"

He turns around to see her standing there in all her flamboyant glory: Aunt Lydia - with her fiery red hair curled perfectly, despite the harsh weather outside. Her emerald green eyes sparkle with life and mischief as she raises an eyebrow at him curiously.