It was early in the evening, the afternoon sun threatening to soon disappear over the horizon. Jameson had yet to eat 'breakfast'. The routine that him and Ella went through didn't vary much from day to day, though he wasn't entirely keen on sending Ella out every single night. Two, maybe three of the weeks nights he insisted that she stay home. He could find his own meal. The girl wasn't the best at keeping out of trouble and she is, without a doubt, hard to repair. It wasn't so hard for Jameson to find his own libations anyway.

Tonight? Tonight is one of those evenings where Ella was supposed to stay home. The man knew almost as soon as he'd awaken that the girl had vacated the house. Her fiery red hair was certainly not the most intense thing about her, as her smell was both unmistakable and one that he'd been tuned into since her.. rebirth.

Jameson isn't nervous and he's certainly not pacing around the basement trying to figure out where Ella had disappeared to. He had a good idea. It wasn't completely beneath him to have made his way to each bar or lounge in the surrounding towns to find her. No, the man had become irritated. Didn't she understand that the rules he had insisted upon had been for her own safety? Of course, they'd also been for his convenience... But who was counting?

It's just before what humans had posed as 'dinner time' when he hears the 'click' of the front door. It locks and then unlocks before it swings open, which is odd since the members of her crew made a habit of leaving everything unlocked.

Except the basement. The locks were made of carbide and steel, and remained locked (most importantly) during the day. Ella had a key, of course. As did Jameson, Noura and Cole. Alternatively the bulkhead (though cleverly hidden) made the basement accessible to just about anyone, but for some reason no one ever dared to venture inside.

Alas, Ella saunters in in that way that Ella does. Quietly and on the pads of her toes, like she's trying not to wake anybody. She did this even in the middle of the day, trying her best not to alert the other patrons of her presence. Jameson thinks that this might be a characteristic that she'd carried over from.. Before.

The man transcends the stairs, taking multiple steps at a time before he reaches the top. He flips the lock with little to no pressure, the door flying open more loudly than he had intended. His strength was still more than he could manage, and getting used to it was a slow and trying process.

"Ella..." His dark, muddied stare catches the ginger haired girl as she was sneaking past the hallway. He had heard a second set of steps, but had foolishly assumed them to belong to Quinn, or someone equally as close with the woman. It wasn't out of the ordinary for them to spend long bouts of time together considering she had been one of Ella's closest of confidantes.