The Phone Booth

The principle of the spell was simplistic. It was a room, etched with the strange symbols that would allow it to conduct the power needed to activate the power of the incantation without draining Diaes of all his energy, well, during the day that is. In the center of the room was a a small wooden table with a vintage telephone resting on it. Now, what it would do was also simple. It would 'call up' whoever Diaes asked it to. The person whom he called would be able to hear and see a phone identical to the one on the table inside the phone booth. This phone would not be visible or audible to anyone else, that's right, he's gotten better since the fiasco with the library's doors... All he need do is dial zero and think about the person he wishes to see, simultaneously speaking their name and the spell will take over. This, of course may take a large amount of magic, but what takes more is the next feature. Should Diaes discover where the call's recipient is at the moment he calls, he can leave the phone off the hook and step out of the phone booth and come out at that person's position or close to it...

At this very moment, Diaes was walking in to the room. It was time to start making some calls. After all, the warrant had been posted for some time now, without any way for anyone to contact him... All part of the plan... Thus, Diaes snapped his hands, a wooden chair appeared to accompany the table. He sat and reached out for the phone. The room went completely dark, not that it had been well lighted before and the only things that were remotely visible were Diaes, the phone, its rest, and his... The receiver left the base with a click and he raised it to his ear. One long, thin claw reached out and inserted its pointy end into the circular dial. He flicked his wrist and dialed the 'operator'. Affixing the mental picture in his mind, Diaes spoke the name of the intended recipient of the call. "Cika Mercian, please," his voice smoothly rolled out over his tongue.

Cika Mercian, the eight year old non mnifested demon had been trying hard to master the techniques of his over-long sword on his own when he saw the phone. With the child-like curiosity overly possessed by his cousins, he warily picked it up.
"Hello?" He asked, his voice cautious.

"Cika, dear boy," Diaes spoke with his 'helpful librarian' voice only with a more 'in need of help twist', "I'm sorry to disturb you, but it did seem to me when last we met that you might one who knows a thing or two about computers. I find myself in need of a hacker for professional reasons. I've been thinking about updating the library for some time now, but I have no idea how I would go about finding myself someone of a reasonable amount of expertise and was just wondering if you might have any pointers?" The eerie light in the room lit Diaes's skin so that it glistened and dark tangled hair fell over top of that absorbing what light it could. In his bent position he smiled ever so slightly his voice totally opposed to the look that he portrayed. Which would have been much more at home in one of Edgar Allen Poe's 'poems'.

Cika listened carefully to the instructions, thinking about the laptop that was sitting upstairs, and the all-too-intelligent virus on said computer that was helping him to find his twin.
"Yes, I know something of computers..." He said slowly, wondering how much he could say before giving away Pencilsketch. "What do you need to know about them?"

"You see," Diaes began again, "It seems to me that the best way to go about doing a thing is to find someone who knows how to exploit it. So I was hoping to get a hold of a professional hacker of some sort to aid me in finding a few things, just to try getting a handle for myself on things, see if computerization is really worth the effort..." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "The truth is, the first things I need to do are connected to some rather shady business and I'm going to need someone who's good enough to sneak about without getting caught," he put on his completely honest tone which wasn't too hard because he was actually being honest, "The hacking I need done is top level work, and I thought you might know the sort of person capable of...carrying out something like that. Forgive this nonsense about computerization, I was hesitant to just come out and say that I was involved in a highly mercenary situation..." The nosferatu's free hand began to tap at the table lightly, telling the truth like this wasn't always the easiest.

Cika didn't speak for a moment.
"I think I can help you then..." He said heasitently, still not wanting to mention his alliance with Pencil Sketch in case it put the virus in danger. Now he thought about that last sentence, it sounded rather strange...

"You personally?" Diaes fluctuated his tone so as to sound just a tad disbelieving but more expectant. He shifted the phone slightly as he fidgeted in the chair. The sound echoed throughout the large dark room in which he sat. "Well, if that is the case then you should probably get yourself a pad and paper, or get to your computer. Oh, and I am fully willing to pay you just as I would anyone else. You may name your own price for the services that you would render." The tapping of his hand ceased as he moved the hand from the table to his pocket from which he pulled a small piece of paper.

Cika paused before running off and getting his computer. He powered the small laptop up before picking the phone up again.
“Ok, what do you need me to do?” He asked, hoping that Pencil Sketch was still working his way through the files Cika had given him to try and help find Shiraku's identity and see if it really was his twin. His hands were poised over the keyboard, ready to type whatever he needed too. It was only now that Cika was actually glad of the practise at typing that Pencil Sketch had given him.

"Alright, if you're sure about this," Diaes glanced down at the little note, "I am looking for the schematics of a building that isn't supposed to exist. The building is in Africa. More specifically, it is in the United Republic of Tanzania at 8ºS 55'46.6456" Latitude and 36ºW 23'35.6712" Longitude. The building was designed by a man named Yjamla Mudhufu. Unfortunately, Mister Mudhufu expired shortly thereafter and the building was constructed secretly. The location I gave you is, however, as close as I could get to accurate. I do believe that somewhere hidden in the coding of another web address is the blueprints or at least the location of a copy which I could retrieve myself." The piece of paper was slid back into the pocket from whence it had come. As the hand retreated from the recesses of the dark pouch, it came out holding a little chain and came to rest upon his knee, fiddling with the metal. "Did you get that?" the somewhat dark tone of vampiric nature gliding easily into the silkier tones of inhuman grace.

As Cika opened the laptop, Pencil Sketch cleared all the folders he had been searching, for possible facts about the one Cika called Shiraku. He had found a folder with very interesting thing, just before Cika had turned on the computer once again. Pencil Sketch immediately opened a word document, looking at CIka through the webcam. He smiled discreetly.
Good news, Cika, Pencil Sketch wrote, I've found suppositions for Shiraku's last name. Does that interest you?
Pencil Sketch, from the computer, could feel telephone waves, being shot at the computer. Cika must be near a working telephone, Pencil Sketch thought. Argh, that thing gives me a codeache.

Cika had typed out everything Dies had told him, ignoring the computer virus for the time being. He sat back, trying to remember his geography lessons with Vrael, but he wasn't advanced enough to be able to place this 'republic' on the map.

Diaes waited patiently for Cika to make a report on his findings, knowing that this particular hack had the possibility to take hours to complete. One learned to wait rather well in 2000 years of life, and Diaes had topped that. And so in his dark room he prepared for whatever might come, meanwhile running through a mental checklist of all the other persons he would need to contact. Cool metal passed between the fingers of his left hand as he fed the small chain between his thumb and index finger. His tongue protruded from his mouth to wet dry lips, the color of crimson. The other hand held the receiver to his ear, or rather, just slightly away from his ear, it was more tiring, but it was his preference. His eyes ranged around the expanse of the dark hall in which he sat. A glance up at the cathedral like ceiling above gave him cause to smile. The faint light in the tower's upper reaches was beginning to fade. Night would soon come to the library...