Pevek, Russia
17, November, 2023

The whirring rotors of the large black helo came to an abrupt stop in the bitter cold of the siberian high arctic. Within the chopper, Vincent shut everything down, and sat back away from the pilot's controls, reaching one clawed hand up to work at the back of his neck. Russia. Specifically, the vast expanse of tundra plains just outside of Pevek, stretched out before them. He didn't say anything; no words, no comments, no remarks to make, as he finally stood up from the pilot's seat and dismounted the helo.

He never had known the exact place he'd been in when he'd killed them. He only knew he hadn't been in the Box for more than a few hours on the way to the drop-off point to get there. Now, though... after Stefan's death, he'd found both a wedding photograph of the two of them, as well as an address. An address that was located there, in the small arctic port town that crawled across the tundra in front of them.

An address that was in Pevek, Russia.

Vincent looked down at the paper again, then tucked it into his pocket. The cold should have bothered him far more than it did, but then the arctic was the Lady's domain, and moreover... he had an unnaturally high tolerance to the climatic conditions of this part of the world. He was ice himself, in many ways, after all.

Connor, however, had no such resistances, and the silver haired healer dismounted the helo and was carrying on about being cold even as he crossed around the front of the air vehicle to meet up with Vincent.

"Your too stubborn for your own good!" Connor complained, as the boy tucked the tail of that elkhide longcoat behind him and started crossing the tundra towards the town. Vincent didn't even blink at the ranting. He was far, far too used to Connor's yowling by this point for it to even phase him any longer. It was just Connor.

"So are you." He retorted, quietly, and shoved a thick pair of mittens at Connor. "Put them on before you start losing fingers."

"I don't need them!"

"Yes, you do. Can you regen a lost limb?"

".........."

"That's what I thought. Put them on." And he left the mittens in the healer's hands as he turned off and started towards the collection of buildings that marked the port town. They'd set down on the south side, and from here the expanse of white went as far as the eye could see, broken only by the dotted collections of buildings that clustered together to form the small town, huddled as if seeking warmth from each other.

They got into Pevek proper, and Vincent pulled his right arm up inside of the heavy longcoat he was wearing as they started through the snowy, icy Russian streets. The metal arm had frozen into place somewhere out there on the tundra. He never had managed to come up with a good way to keep those metal joints from freezing solid in the bitter cold of the arctic.

The address, he found after some quick speaking with a few of the locals, was on the far eastern side of Pevek, located just outside the actual populated area. A trio of solitary standing homes instead of the cramped apartment buildings of the settlement proper. The locals didn't go near it, they said. No one went near it. It was cursed.

Connor's muttering insults about Sedna as they headed eastward were doing very little to help Vincent's peace of mind, and he finally reached a hand out and gripped the healer's shoulder. "Stop that. Please."

"Wha-? Stop what?!" Connor sputtered, his eyes snapping into focus as he felt the boy's chilly hand against his shoulder.

"The insults. The complaining. Just.. stop it. Please." Vincent said, quietly, and let go of the healer again, turning silently on a heel as he started out across the rocky plain. This side of Pevek sported an open plains that were lined by hills and steep inclines. The flat ground near the inclines were littered with chunks of stone, telling the young Shaman that this was indeed a falling rock zone.

"I'm not complaining! And I'm not insulting, either!" Connor argued, scowling, as he followed along.

Vincent sighed. And shook his head at the man, leading them away from the obvious falling zone, and off towards the three standing buildings that rested so far outside of Pevek proper.

"Why did you have to come all the way up here?!" The healer complained. "It's cold! And snowy. And uh. Icey. And cold!"

"I want to know." Was Vincent's only retort to that, the boy's red eyes lifting to regard the three homes in front of them. Two of them were in bad shape; decrepit, unmaintained, abandoned, empty by the looks of them. The third, however, looked as if someone still resided there. With a lofted brow at that discovery, Vincent started walking towards the group of buildings again.

A lone man could be seen wandering between two of the homes, and seemed more than a little surprised when he looked up from what he was doing and discovered the two strangers coming his way. The man looked to be in his 70's or 80's, with faded brown eyes and dull white hair peeking out from under the thick fur cap that he wore over his head.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The man asked in his own native tongue, and Vincent came to a stop, carefully tucking his right hand up under that red coat of his again.

"Vincent Keller." The shaman replied, the boy's usual monotone seemed even moreso at the moment, to Connor's hearing, than normal. The kid was controlling himself very carefully, the healer knew.

"Keller? No... not possible." The elder said, ambling towards them. Connor watched the stranger worriedly, while Vincent merely held his ground, allowing the elder to approach. When the man got there, he peered up at the tall, too-thin Marauder with a critical look that soon faded to one of surprise - and then sorrow. "The boy..." He said, the aged voice barely a whisper on the wind. "The boy. You're their boy."

Vincent's brows furrowed as he listened to the man talk. He understood enough Russian to get by in a casual conversation, but he wasn't nearly as fluent in the tongue as he was some of the others he spoke, and it took him a minute or two to translate it. In answer, all he did was pull his wallet out, and flip open to the single photograph he had of his parents, taken out of Stefan's own wallet. A nearly twenty year old picture, with the happy couple smiling into the camera. A snapshot in time of the lives that were destined to be shattered.

He didn't speak, not right away. He just turned the wallet, to allow the elder in front of him to view the photograph. When he finally spoke, his Russian was careful, and slow; uncertain. Understanding it was one thing, speaking it aloud himself was another, and he was certain his accent made the man before him cringe. "They had a house here, a long time ago. I want to know which one it was."

The elder peered at the photograph, then up at Vincent, before looking over at the silver-haired healer. Finally, the aged eyes returned to Vincent, and the look in those eyes was sad; haunted, and mournful. "You're their boy." The old man said again, softly, and reached up to tap Vincent's cheek, looking at the Marauder with a deep sense of sadness. "They were here. A few years ago. Seven, eight years back? They were looking for their boy. You're him, yes?"

Vincent tensed under the touch, but he restrained himself enough to keep from lashing out or pulling away from it, and settled on merely keeping his eyes on the elder before him. "They were my parents. I want to see the house. Which one is it?"

The elder frowned, and finally took his hand away, turning around to look up the way from them. "Poor people." He started, softly, sadly. "Poor boy. The house is here... come. It can't be entered without you anyway. Not anymore."

Vincent blinked, and looked over at Connor, who just shrugged, and then he turned to follow the elder, Connor moving to his other side to kep up with him. Across the snow, over the ice, through the biting arctic winds of Pevek, the elder led them to the house at the back of the trio.

"This one." The old man said, pointing his left hand up at the front of it. "Cursed. And haunted... ever since they died, haunted." He turned his head to look around and up at the tall, too-thin young Shaman. "Your claws did it... cursed from then on. None can enter without you." He smiled, though it was a saddened expression. "I knew you'd come back eventually. Knew you'd be drawn here."

Vincent looked away at the reminder that he'd done it; he never had forgiven himself for it and never would. Looking up at the house, he started up the hill towards the front door, the old man and Connor trailing behind. When he got to the doors, he pushed them open, and with one hand and a hip against the frame, just... quietly looked inside, through the doorway, to see what was in there.

Connor moved up on the other side of the door, frowning and watching the boy worriedly, and the elder had come to a stop behind the two of them, standing and not interfering, but just observing for the moment.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Connor asked, quietly.

"No." Vincent said, his monotone barely above a whisper. "But I need to. I have to. I need to know. Stay here." And he stepped in through the threshold, a puff of blackness rising from the floor as he entered it.

"Has that ever worked before, Vincent?!" Connor retorted as the boy finished speaking, though his forward movement was halted a bit when he saw that icky black stuff rise up in a puff like smoke and then disappear. He hesitated. And then looked up, watching the young man slowly start to cross the floor, stepping around broken furniture, and through 7 year old blood and gore that stained the walls and floor and ceiling of the room. Saw him lower his head and just run his living hand across the surface of a tipped over and broken rocking chair. Connor frowned again, and then stepped over the threshold himself.

Behind them, the Elder could be heard chanting. Not in Russian, but in Siberian Inuktitut, and then the old man followed them over the threshold. Behind them, another puff of blackness lifted from the doorway and disappeared. Entry was now barred once again to anyone else.

Vincent looked back at the other two, but didn't really seem to be seeing them, and then turned around, heading for the stairs up to the second floor...

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