Chapter V - Brimstone

Completed chapters of the serial storyline are stored here after completion.
Locked
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

Aspasia's gaze sadly drifted from the addled Lucian to her husband, with the added focus of how to possibly work through this quagmire when they already had enough on their plate. She sighed and drew closer to the woman, lowering her voice as well to keep the elderly Void Weaver from hearing. "I suspect that the additional stress of trying to curtail Billy and using his abilities is overclocking his mental capacity more than he's capable of anymore. He can't keep doing that, especially with what's coming. Armageddon's nearly at Hope's doorstep, and Arkham's the least of our worries right now, Astra."

The fauness frowned pensively and spoke frankly albeit in a whisper, "You're going to have to come to a compromise with Billy. You can't keep him here 24/7, not with his personality. Lucian's not going to be able to keep up, otherwise."

With another sigh, she withdrew a bit from the woman and gestured to their living room. "If we could head in here, Coach and I can discuss what we found, and we can also bring you up to date with other recent events."

***

Given his desperation, Meris pulled back from him and folded her arms over her chest. "There's no problem with finding you a target, Mr. Kramp. Not in the next few hours, at least. It's figuring out which target would best to deal with first."

"We just came from a meeting with some agents from Wrath, Sloth, and a few of the juniors currently possessed by Pride's social circle. To keep things brief, Sloth is on our side and is going to help out with defense and medical aid. Pride's currently holding Riona hostage on their side, with the added issue of numerous Abominations that could potentially break through the Hole. , Valefor's stubborn and still plans to attack. Granted, he did give Aspasia Robertson the concession that she's to be dealing with the Scapegoat, likely due to her abilities to diffuse a tense situation and the fact she's not the type to place blame on others for her mistakes. So, the Abominations and Knights of Pride are going to be potential targets, plus with the Sharpe envoys you mentioned. In the panic, they're sure to try to take advantage of it, so a pre-emptive strike against them could keep them out of our hair."

"It comes down to a matter of timing and strategy, essentially. What do you think of the scenario?" she asked him. "I know your bloodlust is pumping hard, but some lucidity's needed at the moment."

***

Alana smirked and sent him an admiring look. "You definitely come up with some brilliant ideas, Arthur. This is sure to catch some demons," she acknowledged, seeming sincere.

Sophia nodded approvingly. "I can certainly throw in enough via to create the needed effects, once we get some potential mages in here. We'll also need to keep them calm. Any new supers or mages will have to adjust to new abilities even while avoiding getting killed by Pitspawn."

Ciaran sighed thoughtfully. "Speaking of demons, we should probably check in with others since we've been busy with the tunnel system; see if there's been other developments we should be aware of." Not knowing that Three was probably in the process of getting an irate Malk down, he dialed Aidan's cell.
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Astra's brief look back to Lucian and Billy looked alarmed, but she also seemed to see the logic in Aspasia's statement. "Y-Yes," she said, "we should do that. I should just, uh-"

As she turned to at least see to her tasks as hostess and to spirit the group off to the living room, she noticed Lucian looking rather wobbly on his cane. So did Silas, who swooped in just as the elder Weaver lost his balance. Covering that with a laugh and a few quips, both the old man and lich did their best to hide their growing concern. "If you'll just hold onto me, sir," sedately suggested Coach, "we'll get you seated, alright? Just tell us where everything is, Astra - we'll get the coffee running."

Lucian weakly protested as he was sat down. "No, this is my home! I should-
- None of that now, mister Rothchild," kindly rebuffed the lich. "Now, I'm a mage and a cook, so you can bet your biscuit I know my way around a decent cup of joe."

He then dug into his pockets, winked at Aspasia, and tossed his car keys to Billy. "Here y'go, Bill - house arrest is over and done with. Take the old girl for a spin wouldja?"

Obviously, the rhino didn't look too trusting, even if he deftly caught the keys. "Pardon me for being a mite paranoid, but I get kinda leery when a lich hands me its car keys like that...
- Don't be ridiculous," opposed Silas, "it's my pride and joy I'm trusting you with, one of Hope's fair few gas-guzzling wonders. My trusting you with the Impala should mean I'm trusting you with something sensitive."

Billy gave him an askance glance. "And I can go anywhere with this.
- Within reason, but going from a living room to the whole of Green Island should start as a nice basis. Go hit up Mertown, huh? Show those old sailors what kind of superhuman liver you've got!"

The rhino grinned at that. "Shouldn't be too hard; I've had six twelve-packs today and I'm not feeling so much as a buzz!" he then walked past the group, whistling some sort of nursery rhyme as he jauntily headed out without so much as proper winter gear.

"What the Hell did you do?" asked Astra, who now looked terrified. Coach settled with a wink as he pulled out what looked like a basic remote unlocker. "Relax," he said, "I'm not about to let him run wild. Being what I am, my anti-theft measures aren't exactly conventional."

Silas then pressed a button, something in his features suggesting he was expecting some sort of feedback. Nothing audibly or visually happened - except for Billy driving off undeterred - but Coach slipped the dongle back in his duster's pocket with a satisfied pout. He caught onto Astra's puzzlement a little too late.

"Oh, um - I set the spell array to give me a silent ping, seeing as I connected a mobile ley line between the car and the doohickey I just used. I felt a sort of tug on it, something that tells me that the spell's armed. As soon as Billy gets within a mile of our house, a preset route's going to kick in. He'll be stuck inside, doing laps around our neighborhood. If he gets too rowdy in there after getting frustrated, I'll get a second alarm. That's my signal to hit the other button."

Astra blinked. "What's it do?"

The lich smirked. "Instant pacification. He'll go out like a light and the car's going to keep running laps until it runs out of gas. Then it'll coast to a parking spot and stop. I've got a third button for gas and a few gas station employees who know about it, so they won't freak out if a driverless car pulls in and honks twice."

He then turned to the kitchen. "Now, about that coffee...
- Check the bread cupboard, we've got biodegradable single-dose packets!" replied the woman, relief pushing through her features.

As for Lucian, he settled with giving Coach an amused glance, although whether or not he'd understood what had just happened was unclear.

* * *

Kramp pouted. "Honestly? I think my feet are cold. I'd rather discuss that indoors, hm?"

Loren didn't look like he was up for his shenanigans, and deftly slipped a hand next to the Fae's head. "You'll tell us what you have in mind," he said, using the calculated tone Karthians defaulted to when imposing a Dominion. The Christmas Devil's eyes glazed over, but his features remained animated.

"Alright, so... I'm thinkin' eliminating the Dixies from the chessboard shouldn't be too hard, but it won't stop Sharpe's folks from attempting to cash in on post-war sympathy capital. An easy win would be Deirdre Owens - don't even need to get violent with this one, which makes it a major snooze-fest for me - but there's a few rambunctious types in Evergloam, down by Apollo Quarter, Evergloam's main Summer hangout... You already met one of 'em at Haskill's, and he's got a coupla goons tryin' to stir up support for, um, unilateral solutions to the demon problem. With the Gruffs out in the open, they're having a hard time doing more than soapboxin' when nobody's payin' attention. At least two got swept up at the garrisons, only now they've got a pokey's worth of Summer ne'er-do-wells to indoctrinate."

He then blinked, shook his head and focused on Martin. "So that's your alien mental shit, eh? You're on my list, bucko...
- I'm shaking in my boots," replied Loren, looking as unimpressed as ever.

He looked back to Meris. "With all due respect, a clear message needs to be sent. We can't waltz into our sister city like a gaggle of barbarians and slaughter a jail's worth of brigands and thieves. We need Sharpe as good as gone for the foreseeable future; not chomping at the bit for a chance to blame us for further abuse."

* * *

"I try," replied the local Ringleader, hand going up to his lapel in both vanity and false modesty, which left Dickens to roll his eyes in the back.

Horatio managed a happy shrug. "We're sure to bring in quite a few people, so they're bound to have plenty of chat material to work through, right? I'd say that would keep them calm."

Arthur's self-absorbed stance was shattered with a sudden glare of disbelief. "We're talking terrified civilians and you think this is just another excuse to chin-wag?! They won't so much as be scared in the way I'd find fun or consensual!"

Grimley sniggered. "Welp, the rumor mill has to start somewhere, right? There's Arkham up in Rhode Island, the Smiths, Ruthven whom you haven't seen hide nor hair of since the late nineties even if he's demonstrably alive - I don't care who you are, this place is bound to be one of the safest bunkers in town! Might as well lap up some rumors and some hearsay, work on more material for my vaults' file folders! You're too serious, Arthur old bean - live a little!"

Arthur blinked and looked back to Alana. "Apart from Ciaran and Sophia, do you think we're the only ones who are doing this to save people? A little more, and I'd think I'm verging on genuine sanity!"

* * *

Ciaran would be treated to the noisy connection brought on by Three's Bluetooth earpiece, which in the immediate was filled with what sounded like the low yowls of a temperamental cat.

"H-Hello? Hello, who is this?" asked Three. "Can't check the Caller ID, I've sorta got my hands full here!"

Followed a loud hiss, and the sound of Gubbin's voice angrily shouting. "Be careful, that's the Bane you're unceremoniously wiggling left to right, inches away from my arm! Do you want me to end up paralyzed?!"

Three sighed. "I'm doing the best I can, here; Kramp buried your best steak knives into the wall almost all the way to the hilt!
- Then use your sodding powers and pull them out straight!"

Drake grunted. "Yeah, sure! I do that, and you either turn coat, pop a seizure or go homicidal! I'm not Lucian Fucking Rothchild, Gubbin! Plus - why did you even turn into a cat if the knives were going to keep your clothes from shifting along?"

Gubbin now sounded more aggravated and embarrassed than angry at anyone in particular. "I thought I could... wiggle or shimmy my way out. An obviously bad idea, in retrospect..."

Three scoffed. "No kidding, you were almost choking on your bowtie! Now, stop squirming and let me work on getting your legs free, at least!"

In the back, Ciaran would hear a mildly alarm Archie shout "I'll fetch a stool!" and trot off, his spat-covered dress shoes clacking away on the mansion's marble-floored lobby. It wasn't too hard to imagine him with a hand on his gibus, the other one clutching his cane at the haft, his legs pumping.
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

"It's Ciar-" the male selkie started, soon realizing he would be shouted over by everyone else. He let out a faint hiss and snapped into the phone, "If Aislinn's there, have her get Gubbin down!"

As luck would have it, Aislinn must've just have arrived on the scene and saw the state the batman was in. "Oh, for fuck's sakes! Brace yourself, Gubbin; I'll get you down!" she was heard yelling, apparently not wanting to wait for the Clank to return.

From her side of the situation, Aislinn focused on each of the steak knives and gradually pried the blades from the wall with her telekinesis, carefully working them out so the Malk wouldn't suddenly drop or be hit by them. She then cushioned Gubbin's fall so he wouldn't hit the floor too roughly.

He could hear his twin's sigh of relief somehow mingled with a snarl. If the Krampus was there, he could only ponder what else had happened in his absence. Seeing as the commotion seemed to be over, he then said loudly into the phone, "It's Ciaran; could someone please tell me what the hell's going on there?"

***

One of Alana's fangs protruded over her bottom lip as she skeptically sniffed. "Maybe, but it's not like Lilith measured out even allotments of insanity when she was devising that old curse for the first of us Freaks," she replied, clicking her tongue.

The vampiress then glanced back to the slightly annoyed roane and gestured. "Might want to pay attention to what he's talking about."

***

While Coach prepared coffee for them, Aspasia gestured to the sitting area and sat down in a recliner, pulling out an atlas of Hope and the surrounding cities, including Providence. On it, she had marked the locations Arkham had on his own map in his office. Given the lapsed memory issues Lucian seemed to be experiencing, she figured a recall of what they had said they were going to do would jog his memory.

Sitting down in a recliner, she sighed and began explaining, "Prior to visiting Arkham, I saw Dr. Martin Loren, the Karthian. He did the procedure that implemented the Optogenetics-based batch to my remaining nanites, and everything went fine with that. He also accompanied us as supposed former comrade of mine seeking a boat for his job, while we acted as potential buyers for a houseboat meant to go around the coastline. Arkham was friendly enough, but there was a time he subtly prodded my mind with the Black Speech while discussing what type of boat we wanted. I wouldn't have even noticed the bastard's attempt if not for the warbling ringing I heard as the patch covered whatever utterance he sent at me. It didn't seem to phase Coach, since he was sitting right next to me, but I'm fine."

***

"You're right," Meris responded to the Karthian. "A massacre is the last thing we need, but perhaps spooking them into not returning to the area for a while would work to our advantage."

"So, how do we scare and unnerve a bunch of immortal bigots?" Neasa queried, crossing her arms over her chest.
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Three winced, but had enough tact not to blame Ciaran for shouting into his earpiece. "We were off working on some sort of weird trans-planar Yalta conference in preparation for shit hitting the fan, and then Kramp went ahead and decided to get bored. The mansion's a mess, and Bagley's probably frozen somewhere with a fork stuck up his power socket. Bucky couldn't stop him since Kramp had enough sense to pick the big fella's two Kryptonites at the onset."

Archie's voice sounded again, coming nearer. "The buffoon went and removed something from Bagley's head, and now he won't wake up!"

Ciaran would hear Three groan. "Fuck. It's probably Bagley's EDIMM module, the stick that has his digitized soul on it. Hold on, Ciar-"

The young man obviously pulled his earpiece away to avoid shouting in the roane's ear again. "Can you see something that looks like a big metallic square, Arch?
- That was there, yes," replied Archie. "Was that the central processing unit?"

Drake was given pause, as he wasn't used to Archie picking up on the tech sector's growing lexicon. "Er, yeah. Was the heat sink warm?
- No, why?"

Three affixed the earpiece back on his ear and was heard walking. "That means he tricked Bagley into shutting down - which he'd never do. He probably just tripped the PSU's jumpers with some extra voltage from one of the armory's Tasers. If we can find that stick, put it back into place and boot him up again, Bagley should be fine. That's if the Tesla core isn't a complete loss...
- We'd know it if it was," added Archie. "The smell of burning ozone, fire everywhere, half of the mansion vaporized and my carrying my screaming daughter away..."

Three clicked his tongue. "True. Now we just have to find a memory wafer somewhere in your mother's berjillion books and all your memorabilia..."

They were heard stopping a short distance away from one of the main staircases. Three scoffed. "Jesus. He's posed Bagley like a store mannequin.
- Are mannequins supposed to pull a Superman?" asked Holden, something which again gave Aidan pause. Holden was heard scoffing in response. "I have a daughter on the edge of her Tweens, Aidan; I've obviously been kept abreast of a few tired memes!"

* * *

Gubbin opted to try and shift back into his human form once freed, mostly so he'd get a chance to straighten his clothes. With the numerous cuts now adorning them, however, he had a hard time not looking too disheveled. At best, he straightened his bowtie and shucked his pie-tailed jacket back on properly with a few shrugs and lapel tugs.

"Madame," he asked of Aislinn, his tone utterly glacial, "do I have your consent to do with our guest as I please?"

He paused long enough to use one of his now-properly gloved hands to pull a knife out of the wall. "I've a favor to graciously return, as you might imagine..."

* * *

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Vampire, darling. I haven't missed a single irate syllable out of our friends, despite the distance to Ciaran's phone and Drake's cheap speaker. It stands to reason that something like this would happen; the Krampus is what happens if you stick a half-feral with enough of an arsenal to scare the Dickens out of professional slayers and then expect him to behave at a one of my brother's turgid luncheons. At least we know that some of our would-be enemies have enough sense to jump ship. I'm not much of a demonologist, but telling me that Sloth jumped onboard feels like par for the course."

Phineas Dickens scoffed and nodded. "Anything to save the locale's comfiest beds, I'd imagine."

From further away, grinding sounds were soon heard. The early birds had followed Sophia's disseminated instructions and were now starting to trickle down. Hearing this, Archie let out a soft trill of a whistle and Horatio tapped his reed cane. Over a dozen Freaks stepped out of the shadows, at that - not always on cue, but at least generally prepared. As usual for Arthur's people interacting with mundanes, mildly alarmed shouts were heard, followed by apologies and nervous chuckles as the first of the arrivals were directed towards Gallery A. What wouldn't have been expected, however, would be the presence of a certain figure in the group... At the head of the group and with a hand on the shoulder of an elderly woman was Francis Herbert Quigley - the recently seldom-seen Amazo the Magnificient."

"Here you go, Sophia," he called out, "one fresh batch of early birds, with your pick of the litter of the poorly-prepared doomsday preppers and the solitary pious types with nowhere safe to go...
- I thought Saint Patrick's Cathedral would be safe," added the older woman he was guiding across the uneven floor, "Father Curran himself sent me here, instead! Something about structural weaknesses or the domed ceiling posing a risk - I don't remember..."

Arthur smiled and extended an arm, helping a young man step across more stones with an outstretched hand. "He'd be right; cathedrals are only as safe as their architect designed them to be, no matter how much faith's permeated the stones and floorboards. I know old Ben Parsons wants to stick to his basement, and Khalid's phoned earlier, telling us to expect a mosqueful."

He paused and eyed Alana. "Is that even a word? Mosqueful?
- It is now," shrugged Amazo. "I'm mostly down here in case I get the chance to relive the old days' glory, wouldn't you know," he said, going for false vanity. "Maybe steal another kiss from the local protecting spirit," he added, winking at the dryad.

* * *

Aspasia would require a few repeat attempts at various points, as Lucian's ability to focus seemed to come and go, but he eventually gave her something of an appraising nod. That seemed to signal that some sort of synthesis had still been reached, and that he at least was momentarily lucid.

"I didn't credit Doctor Loren's procedure; that must have been Astra acting in my name. That said, it does confirm my concerns at the time of the missive I first sent you. You see, there are entire cities in this world, built expressly for the purpose of channeling your arcane energies or the Others' powers, depending on their affiliations. Hope is more a case of urban planners serendipitously happening upon ley lines and convergences and less one of conscious conforming, but there are a few buildings and streets that were placed by one of the late Henry Smith's associates, Ivo Zhukov. He was a Russian mage consulted during the city's boom-town era, a period which would have allowed for massive upheavals in terms of the city's traffic grid and zone distribution. Going from a small island town to a metropolis involved quite the growing pains, and Sophia was right there to serve as a bulwark for whomsoever would know to deliberately pick street orientations." 

Astra nodded, looking relieved to see her grandfather looking sharp for a while. "Smith Senior had designs for this town, and he'd mostly been inspired by what he'd found out in excavating ruins in Siberia. The Hyperboreans ran everything through via channels, to the point where they could loop sewage water right back into their aqueducts. They could completely sanitize their sewage system in a single loop. Guaranteed clean water, all because the system followed the ley lines and transformed every molecule in the pipes using rune-based spells. Whatever couldn't be turned into water went into their fields for composting. Zhukov was a fan of Nikola Tesla and imagined Hope as a wireless city - but he wanted something more efficient than Tesla's ideas for electrical information. He found what he needed in the past."

Lucian nodded. "That didn't endear him to the union bosses or the engineers, obviously. A wireless city meant less profit for the era's providers in coal or the copper workers, and it would've driven the then-popular Clank industry away. So, as it stands, only Centennial Park's immediate vicinity was designed to follow the Nexus' immediate dependencies. Nothing came of it. Look at the area from above, and Hope's love of tiny public squares or wide and bench-laden avenues for pedestrians starts to form a pattern. A pattern with nodules of intersecting lines that follow this exact configuration," he said, pointing at Aspasia's notes.

Coach's eyelights blinked from the kitchen. "Well, I'll be... Ivo Zhukov, a mage who died a fairly un-magelike death... I always thought he was there to serve as Senior's nod to the times' fascination with Spiritualism, but he was one of the least-kooky Victorian practitioners I met. Everyone else sort of prefaced Amazo or pulled stunts about controlling spirits or forces like magnetism, and he was squarely focused on using via to serve the people. As if it could uplift us, if we thought of it as a natural force to be used and less as some sort of exotic add-on. Like steam or electricity. Even today, a lot of people have trouble thinking of using magic to start their car or run their computer."

Lucian nodded. "He was a different man from different times, indeed - right up until Smith Tower's construction saw him die in a blast caused by poorly-secured dynamite. He never lived to defeat the factory cartels and wealthy industrialists of his time, so the core of his design remained unused. With a network of avenues and squares already laid out, why bother restarting? Centennial Park's final borders had been laid out, the financial quarter was already sprouting from the dirt - so why go back? It was obviously cheaper to just - go ahead, as it were. Keep building, and integrate Zhukov's design into something more commonplace, more mundanely functional."

Coach nodded as he turned the corner with steaming coffee cups in hand. "You said that's the standard elsewhere...
- Walpurgis channels Hellfire for the sake of protecting its borders," nodded the Void Weaver, "and Dalarath's planners carefully positioned its Word Houses in accordance to powerful sigils intended to bolster our connection with the Gods that Were. Thinking back on it, Dalarath reminds me of Sicily's coastal towns, if all the twisting cliffside avenues and terraces were all designed in accordance with beings of terrible and appalling power."

Silas followed along. "So Downtown's one big arcane capacitor, and it probably explains how someone like Amazo so much as survived the illusion he pulled off to save the Tree. Via circulates downtown like water in a purification plant, it gets cleaned, somehow, of negative energies, and it's shunted back into the system - like blood after it's cleaned by the kidneys. It takes a rushing stream with a wildly unpredictable flow and it stabilizes it, so any feedback can be safely managed by the Tree, Nexus and their attending dryad..."

He glanced back at Aspasia. "If Arkham tampers with this...
- Indeed," nodded Rothchild.

 * * * 

Loren snorted. "You're respectively an Archmage and a strongwoman, and I'm a telepath. Scaring these overgrown children shouldn't be too hard. It won't deter Sharpe's attempts, but it might at least pause them until he assembles a new band of would-be feudal lords in plantation whites."

As if to prove his point, the Karthian began to lightly hover off the ground, the odd quasi-magical hum of focused telepathic will feeling like a dispassionate and distant cousin to the Black Speech's skill at tearing flesh and inert matter apart. A few pebbles from Archie's driveway followed along, orbiting around his feet in miniature eddies, while a sort of cyclic gust of imperceptible wind made his facial tendrils lightly trail along with his jaw. His mundane clothing shimmered and faded away, their mainly purple tones turning into the hazy suggestion of a body. They then reconfigured into the decidedly Googie Raygun-worthy skintight suit native Grayskins took to for their own cultural events - and which had marked Hope's Silver Age as being both Mentalor's costume of choice as well as that of Doctor Cerebro's underlings. Cerebro's goons had always flocked to Redshirt-worthy tones of crimson, with the self-styled Mentalist Supreme stealing the regal purple Anastasius Romanov had abandoned, following his redemption. His chest bore the stylized design he'd sported in many pictures taken with a slimmer Ethan Alderan - a stylized human brain surrounded by black Kirby dots, the whole of it hovering atop the palm of an outstretched four-fingered hand.

"Let's give Sharpe's men a taste of the old days, shall we?"

Krampus could barely contain a chirp of glee. "Oooh, I'm so pumped! Wait - do we all get to go retro too, or...?"
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

"If you want," Meris addressed, then narrowing her eyes slightly and speaking with a firm tone befitting her queenly status. "However, before we go on what you'd consider a romp, you're going to set right whatever mayhem you caused because you were bored in the mansion. At the very least, I want to know exactly what you did, so I can tell them how they can quickly solve the issues and get on with preparing for the fight. They don't have time for what you consider pranks, Mr. Kramp."

***

Aislinn snorted and shook her head. "I'd like to say yes, but I unfortunately can't. The jackass is here on official business, courtesy of Oberon and a temporary servitude to Meris."

She then looked over at Archie and Three. "Besides, I think they need our help more with getting Bagley functional again. Time to help a fellow coworker in need and all..."

Ciaran sighed and muttered, "Alright, thanks for keeping me in the loop. We've got the tunnels done, so they're ready to go to take in refugees. Maybe we could entertain them with retro memes as well..."

***

"That would explain why Arkham's so interested in renovating those particular areas to their "former glory", to stimulate some ridiculous notion of nostalgia among the citizens and the social who's who. Those plans reeked to me that he's trying to curry favor and have people give him accolades. So, essentially, there's inklings of a cult of personality, from what I've observed," Aspasia stated. "Plus, depending on the damages in Hope with the Infernal invasion, someone with extensive wealth like him could easily be seen as a benefactor. He's waiting things out until they settle and can garner more positive attention."

The satyress then remembered a detail from the previous conversation with the older Archmage. "Meris did mention that it seemed like Arkham could be employing logic from Pop Culture Neopagans in how he wants to bring those locations back to their state of memorializing the Golden Age of Supes and such, like he's trying to elevate himself. We already know he's not following the whims of the Others, so is he trying to gain power somehow to go against Their will?" she proposed.

***

"Cute, but I hope you're not going to reach near cardiac arrest, since we might be getting some new mages soon," Sophia lightly groused, her seasonal gloominess zapping any amusement she might've entertained. "I can help them, but having a sound teacher around would also be appreciated."

The dryad then coughed, "Besides, Ciaran might beat you to that," she added cheekily.
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

The Winter-aligned demon grinned at the Archmage. "I'd love to, Queenie, but your Warlock buddy kinda froze me into place..."

Rolling his eyes, Loren focused on the assassin's shackled feet. Tom's constructed stone manacles crumbled away. "There's enough developments underway that I'd rather we didn't simply wait for you to fix things the honest, mundane and impractical manner."

Krampus cackled at that. "What, and deny Meris the chance to have me confront my clearly immature actions' consequences? I honestly don't think she'll let-"

Once more, Loren placed a hand close to one of Krampus' temples. The Fae's eyes grew distant, his mouth flapping on with seemingly no higher input.

"-me tell you all about it! I started by futzing around in two of the reading rooms in the East wing and used an old spyglass like a hockey stick with books for pucks. Then I got bored of hockey and figured I'd try golf, so I went snooping around for the proper attire, see? The old fuss' got a ton of turn-of-the-last-century crap in his drawers, so I went half-Tintin and half Johnnie Walker, as you can plainly see. Lockpicking my way through his -snrk- beard cabinet wasn't too hard, and I went for this long, floppy, obviously Scottish thing I haven't seen Holden use once. Figured he wouldn't miss it. The Wallace fella caught me in the act and tried to stop me, so I pulled the ol' geas trick and had him slip off to polish off the pantry despite himself. I'd cornered him into a ninja-worthy Oath of Hospitality when I first got here, so he couldn't say no when I told him I wanted him to pig out!"

He snickered. "I could hear him protest every so often, but he didn't stop once. After about a hole and a half, Gubbin tromps up to me, saying he's had enough. I told him he'd have to make me stop, and he said he'd gladly oblige. I gave him a good run; Aislinn's got a quality fighter on her team. S'too bad he's stuck here polishing silverware half the time. Then there's ol' Bagface, who figures he might pull a Smithers to my Archie Andrews. He made the mistake of potato-sack-carrying me past the armory, so I used a whip to rip open the armored door and snag a Taser. Past that, a little Suplex action was all I needed to get access to his rear port cover... I figured his mind could use a break, anyway. His memory stick thingy's in the first fern pot right next to the armature. What is it with Victorians and potted ferns, anyway?"

Loren lightly brought his hand closer, Krampus' eyes fluttering in response and finally settling on a genial look of remembrance. "Oh, yeah! And I snagged one of Holden's golf clubs once I got tired of using the spyglass. Man, the metal on these things is weak. Then the Buckster tried to deck me - again - so I just told him I wanted him to cool off. Within five minutes, there wasn't a spot of my homebrew golf course where you couldn't hear the lugnut snore like a jet engine. Again, that's not him being a doofus, that's the Oath I slipped in doing its thing. So, uh, if you gotta blame someone for their incompetence, blame me, okay?"

Loren removed his hand, Krampus immediately shaking his head and snarling, snapping at Loren's hand. "You goddamn cheat - I'll tear out your gizzard on Yule and make mince pies out of it, ya hear me?!"

Loren shrugged. "You'll find me a poor prospect for nutrition. My own bacterial flora isn't compatible with yours, seeing as we come from drastically different solar systems. You'd end up in the ER and I'd only need a few hours' worth of nano-surgery. Odds are you'd die. Now, sleep."

Krampus collapsed seemingly on cue, more gravitational eddies forming semi-visible hand-like shapes to support him. They shifted him around and formed what looked like a translucent shelf under him, until Oberon's envoy was loosely resting on his back in midair. The alien started for the mansion, his mentally-constructed hover-buggy of sorts following along.

"We should at least inform the others, see if the recovery process couldn't be expedited," he said, then giving Meris a vague smirk. "I'm of the mind that he should be kept asleep until well into our confrontation with Sharpe's spies. He deserves some of the disorientation I'm sure mister Wallace will experience - and I need to borrow this idiot's vocal cords to free Wallace at all."

He paused. "Unless, that is, your status gives you leave to lift a Winter Fae's Oath, Madame McConmara. I'll confess to not being too familiar with the intricacies of the arcane world's more evolved members."

* * *

Amazo smirked at Sophia. "That's right, I'm a Master Jedi without a Padawan, Merlin without Arthur! Gee, I wonder who took that spot, I wonder," he sarcastically noted. "I don't mind that he did, it's more a case of my having expected, you know, something like a heads-up. Research quarters, network passwords, the whole shebang and then poof, Archie gives me a call, tells me I'd better stick to my own projects from now on. Fast-forward a month and the only thing being talked about on the local arcane half of the Web is Tom Magnus this and Tom Magnus thatOh em gee with a bunch of extraneous exclamation points, has Quint gone Good Interrobang?!"

He stopped in front of Ciaran and Sophia. "Some courtesy's what I would've wanted. I didn't get any when my own mentor decided it'd be swell if we went for a one-sided suicide pact while looking for a sunken city in the Middle East, and I didn't get any when the Shield paychecks stopped coming. I'm not blaming you, kid," he told Ciaran, "I'm blaming Archibald Fucking Holden and his ungodly slow process at defrosting his moral code. I'm blaming the mayor for sitting on it when I had a research chair to fund. I might be rich, I can't just legally bankroll my students on campus! Grants can't be set up overnight!"

The snake sighed as he briefly focused on a pair of children and what looked like their bigger brother. "And I'm missing it, you know? I'm missing what I never really had the chance to get with you kids. Another spot in the limelight, on my terms and for reasons that are worth a damn. Now all my tongue picks up on you is those freaking cheroots and Magnus' Big Meaty Herbivore musk."

Arthur clicked his tongue. "Ah, the old Jealousy and Acrimony Club - Welcome, Francis! The seats are comfy and the showgirls are real easy... I wouldn't make a habit of it, though; something tells me that oh-so-wretched warthog of yours is going to receive the keys to the city from the mayor, once this blows over. Plus, he's good friends with Invisibility Boy, over here."

Quigley grunted. "Arthur," he said, nodding. "Still blaming your brother for everything?
- Everything within reason," amended the vampire. "Mostly my people's lack of involvement, his efforts acting like a magnet for increasingly Bigger Bads, and how he just can't help it that our once-tranquil arcane and supernatural haven ends up serving as the battlefield in the war between Good and Evil. It happened with Russia, India, the Southern States - and now it's happening here. I'm cursed with not always making sense, he's cursed to save the world over and over."

He shrugged. "As for you, looks like you're currently stuck being an underappreciated academic figurehead crossed with a billionaire playboy who's past his prime... You're in luck, Sophia just mentioned how we'd need some help."

Francis blinked, realizing he'd been brought back to Sophia's last point. "Um, yeah," he said. "If there's any newbies down here and we need to set up a mirror of that size, they'll need coaching. Unless some other Archmage-class figurehead waltzes in, I volunteer by default."

* * *

The Krampus had posed Bagley with a seemingly neutral expression, one arm extended forward and the other backwards and close to his side, one leg shouldering his weight and balancing him, the other outstretched behind. While Archie grunted in attempting to manually reset his butler's seemingly stubborn servomotors, Three flitted from room to room, convinced as he was that the memory stick couldn't have been far.

"The stick can't be in one of the books, one of the rows would bulge out or just not fit anymore! The heat spreaders on the thing are too big for any hardcover to just close normally!
- Bloody hell - search them anyway!" called back the Lord, as he painstakingly managed to bring Bagley's body back on its own two feet. "A little more and you'd swear I'm wrestling the Rock of Gibraltar!"

Downstairs, Gubbin settled for placing the knife into its usual - if uncommon - resting place, in a sheath sewn to the inner lining of his jacket. "A shame," he sedately replied, the minimal nature of his response betraying the way his feelings would've allowed for something like Aislinn or Aidan's more hyperbolic statements. Two tiny words, brimming with frustration. In any case, he chose to keep busy, citing the need to attend to Bucky.

Following the Christmas Demon's Oath-driven command, Bucky had trundled back into his room and laid on his mat, having quickly taken to the typical starfish pattern he ended up assuming when asleep. If he typically managed to look genuinely happy napping for three to four straight hours in the middle of the day, his eyebrows' metallic spindles were now furrowed, mumbles and vague protests escaping between the usual snores. His fingers and feet twitched, as if he were somewhere in the back, desperately trying to sit up and grab his odachi. Slurred Japanese curses and cotton-mouthed death threats in English escaped him, along with he occasional mean peal of laughter. He'd probably really wanted to give Kramp a good wallop or two...

* * *

Lucian looked briefly distant, a nudge from Astra bringing him back into focus. "Oh, erm - yes. That would be likely. I would have been able to confirm or infirm your assessment more accurately if he had left something of himself behind after leaving Dalarath, but there are no notes to his name. Our spies in the old city tell us his assumed name remains unknown - as if the locals in Dalarath are reluctant to speak openly of him."

Coach grunted. "So he's been wiped out on the semantic level. Like dead courtiers or advisors who would've displeased a pharaoh. You chip their names off of monuments, prevent anyone from speaking their name. Consign them to oblivion. Cripple History to save your ego.
- We do know he's a former Arbiter. His training regimen fits," explained Astra. There's a health club in downtown Providence that he goes to. He's had the most punishing program put together for his own sake, and he's proficient with tonfa, batons and Brazilian macaratu. He's a lot like William Cuthbert, in terms of personal discipline. The one difference is Cuthbert's renounced stick fighting out of principle - it's too close to the Word Houses' martial techniques for his liking."

Silas quirked an eyebrow - inasmuch as he could - and briefly made his eye sockets asymmetrical. "You had to have been a fighter, Lucian, to last this long. Let's say you're back in your prime; could you go toe-to-toe against someone like Arkham?"

Rothchild chuckled weakly. "I was a Spiritualist, mister Robertson. I devised means of Etheric deterrence and used them. At best, you could compare me to a halfway-decent rifleman. The closest thing I ever came to studying a martial art was spending time in Nepal to learn of Yoga and meditation. I could cheat the odds and devise shields using my own embryonic White Speech, but I was never one to attack those who could harm me physically."

He sighed and looked to Aspasia. "I did, however, caress the dream of wielding magic. In that respect, miss Robertson, we are alike. Your Fae half slumbers, and my passion for the arcane arts still demands an outlet. Meris could tell you more if you  were to ask her - I visited Nereus and her in the Darkhallow and discussed with them until the simulation's own small hours of the night. Meris and I were both ravenous for knowledge and our interests stood at a crossroads."

That strangely made Coach look pensive. "Do you have a safe place to stay once war erupts?
- We have a panic room, but..."

The lich looked back to Aspasia. "I think we should take them to Sophia. They'll be safer. There might even be a chance that she could help you.
- We can't ask that of you," immediately countered Astra. "Besides, Billy's got your car."

Coach smirked and parted a corner of his duster, exposing the holster he'd fashioned to carry Admiral's hip bone. "I've always got a back-up ride."
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

OOC: Please reply for Astra and Lucian.

Meris looked over to the side as she recalled the specifics of the Oath. "He placed Mr. Kramp under an Oath of Servitude to me and Shield for the foreseeable future. The main reason Oberon made the offer was his capacity to fight when the demons show up. Kramp did say he placed a "ninja-worthy" Oath on Shamus, but we'll see how he reacts if I try to break it. He may have made it so that I couldn't interfere," she noted to the Karthian.

"For now, let's just get this asshole back to where they are and reverse Bucky's Oath. Are we still going to go spook Sharpe's goons, or will we wait on that?" Neasa asked.

***

Sophia clicked her tongue. "Likely not. Even with Aislinn's rise to Archmagehood, I think the Nexus is done allowing that much power to reach a single person. There's a reason there's only a few, at most, live simultaneously, but we're in a do-or-die situation. Any other mages that pop up will be more of your garden variety, so to speak," she acknowledged.

Having said his goodbye and hanging up, Ciaran turned back to them and smiled to Quigley. "My sister might not need your help so much anymore, Francis, but there's definitely still a need for your expertise."

***

Once Aislinn came into the Kitaiteki's room, she sighed at how deeply asleep he was. "How are we going to remove the asshole's Oath of Hospitality? Does Meris have some leverage being an Archmage and the one who agreed to Kramp's Oath of Servitude?" she asked the Malk. "Or is the one who has the ability to wake him up?"
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

"That's still on the docket," concurred Loren, "don't you worry. Your friends' safety matters at least a smidgen more in the immediate..."

He lightly sneered at the sight of Bucky splayed over on his back and placed a hand on Kramp's shoulder. "No mental yoke, this time. Free him."

Muttering, the Krampus did as he was instructed and whispered the Welsh keyphrase in Shamus' ear. The kitaiteki's tremors grew stronger as Shamus began to push past the pale of unnatural slumber. His eyelids fluttered and his hands clawed at his thin mattress - until he suddenly sat up with a snort and a roar. "LEMME AT 'IM!" he shouted in defiance, before bleary-eyed realization settled in. He flashed a look at Neasa, a pained apology obvious in his features, and then zeroed in on the Christmas Devil as be sat up. He was on him in an instant, despite his size, one hand pinning a wry Krampus to the wall and the other raised in a fist.

"You're goddamn lucky I care enough that my best friend's been shacking me here for the best part of two centuries, 'cause otherwise I'd make a window through here with my fist and your head. Oberon's word be damned, THAT AIN'T HOW YA TREAT ALLIES. Yes, I'm big and yes, I like food. Bring that up as the butt of a joke one more time and I'm scrapin' some paint off o' my knuckles - givin' you a long, hard and well-deserved run-through with the Bane. Five hundred pounds o' hammered iron, Krampus. I don't care how badass Oberon made you, I'll leave you to where you're mewlin' on the floor an' beggin' for mercy."

As he spoke, the Fae's teasing look seemed to sober. The threat of the Bane had probably something to do with it.

"You're gonna focus on the Dixies an' the demons, Krampus, and if you so much as lay a hand on my friends - so much as a handshake - I'm takin' yer arms and claimin' them as my own, samurai style."

The point of his Tengu nose rested against Kramp' own exaggerated schnozz. "Touch Neasa, and I'll take your head. Fuck the Wild Hunt. Are we solid?"

Kramp tried for a bit of snark. "Well, see, gettin' my head would be kinda-"

His features shifted dramatically, his eyes widening and black veins spreading underneath his pale skin as Bucky's right fist impacted with the Christmas Devil's abdomen and pushed.

"Do not test me, Oni," groused the Clank in Japanese. "You will honor your compact with the Archmage - and then leave. Set foot in my home again once her Oath will be lifted, and the Demon Lord Susanoo will be showered in your blood."

* * *

"Well, yeah," sniffed the snake, "unless Art here's picked up more than basic sleight-of-hand. I'll get the mages sorted out."

He then turned to the slowly growing crowd and used a bit of magic to carry his voice without his screaming or shouting. "Alright, people: Soph and I need a head count. I want anyone with abilities or a scrap of arcane potency to my left," he said, gesturing. "Pass it on to the entrance's queue and make sure anyone who comes here knows about it, alright? Left-hand side is Mages Only until further notice! Once you've been counted, I need you to walk past me and head for that chamber! If you're a supe, tough luck - we'll sort that out later! Supes and mundanes on the right side, got it?"

A woman raised a hand. "What about the sick or the injured?
- You're on me!" replied Arthur. "See those two beige rocks? The shadows in-between them will take you to a triage area we've set up in one of the old storm drains' control centers. Anyone with medical training needs to come forward once on the other side!"

Another hand came up. "Will you turn people? Are there special instructions from Vienna?
- This isn't a vamp-fest, kid," replied Arthur. "We'll turn whoever has enough stamina to shoulder the change and the need to be up and at it within moments! We don't have time for the usually barrage of symptoms, and we especially don't have the time to humor anyone who sees this as a joy ride or an Anne Rice knockoff situation! There won't be romance, no dark embraces, no hyperbolic oaths! It'll be you, a splitting headache, fists and fangs - and the need to use them all as soon as possible! Turn on us out of bloodlust or go psycho, and we will put you down!"

That made the room go silent. "On that cheerful note, see Alana for more info - she'll be your sire!"

Horatio feigned disappointment. "Aww, can't I nibble on a few necks, too?"

Amazo rolled his eyes. "We'll need conscripts more than cackling jester types, Grimley. You won't have a few decades to turn Mad Hatter types into more productive vampires - we're talking a bare few minutes per candidate." 
User avatar
TennyoCeres84
Site Admin
 

Posts: 2929
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

If the Christmas Devil had looked Meris' way, he'd see that she wasn't about to offer him any aid or sympathy. While she didn't understand much, if any Japanese, she could understand the meaning behind Shamus' uttered words. "Well, Mr. Kramp? I suggest you listen to what he says and do it. You're not going to get another chance; this was the third strike," she said steel-toned.

Neasa had to wonder if the forced nap had let some of remnants of old Japanese warrior through, but even she had a slightly wider gaze due to how serious the Clank was. As much as a pain in the ass the Krampus had been, she couldn't blame him for how rough he was being with him.

Seeing that Bucky was now fully awake, Aislinn was the next one to come storming up to the Krampus and appeared surprisingly intimidating despite her small size. "Also, where the hell is Bagley's memory stick, asshole?!"

"We already got the information from him; it's in the first potted fern next to the armature," Neasa stated, glaring at the demon.

"Thanks!" Aislinn exclaimed before speeding off to where they had left Archie and Aidan looking for the item in question.

***

"I agree; we don't know how much damage could be done to residences, so staying with Sophia would be better and safer, Astra. At the very least, she can help Lucian with some of his issues," Aspasia noted, then smirking at the revealed holster in Coach's duster. "Transportation's not a problem for us. We're good on that."

She then sighed and looked around. "I'd suggest grabbing anything that's absolutely important and you don't want destroyed. Papers, passports, etc.," she said, then looking back to the Void Weaver. "Since Void Weavers aren't out in the public eye yet, I'd suggest you don a Flesh Mask, Lucian. We're going to have demons on the plane soon enough, and we don't need any trigger happy sorts mistaking you as a threat. I doubt you'll be the only ones seeking refuge within the constructed tunnels, so it'd be for the best to have a disguise."

***

"Hopefully, we're not turning into a vamp factory, and the ones I might turn need to be levelheaded types," Alana replied lucidly, then looking back to the crowd. "Minors need not apply; 18 and up only! Certain character flaws will disqualify you completely!!"

She then glanced at the thespian and the ringmaster. "Even if desperate times call for desperate measures, I'm obviously not conscripting children. No pumped up and impulsive teens, and goes without saying, definitely no young children. I never want to deal with Huey Francis types."

Ciaran sent the vampiress an uncertain look. "Huey Francis?"

"A pint-sized Freak mobster turned in toddlerhood; he runs Chicago's Circus," she supplied. "He's barely two feet, but he's savage and could throw even the most able-bodied supes like a ragdoll, if he feels like it due to a temper tantrum," she answered. "He serves as an existing cautionary tale for us Freaks and other vampires. Don't turn children, period."
User avatar
IamLEAM1983
Site Admin
 

Posts: 3707
Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
Location: Quebec, Canada

Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

Krampus' eyes were bulging, he gagged, coughed and sputtered a few times - and laughed as he slid down the wall's length to sit on the floor.

"Bwahahahaha, aw, man! I swear, if Oberon had any concerns about you fellas makin' it through, this right here pretty much settled 'em! No-one's made me hurt in the last two hundred years, and you've one of the best aces in the hole a guy coulda asked for! Three weeks of seein' Big Guy here alternate between snoozin', stuffin' his gut or hoping to someone between the Christian God and the Japs' thousand or so motherlovin' spirits that She-Hulk here notices him - and this is when I find out what all that steam's good for! Jesus wept, Titania's ideas about the great Shamus Wallace havin' gone soft don't hold any water! You don't know how relieved that makes me!"

The Fae-Pitspawn hybrid snorted noisily and then wiped his nose with the back of his right wrist, as he stood up. "You all come together when taxed, and if it'd been someone more serious and actually intent on fucking up your day, you woulda tag-teamed their asses! Hell yeah!"

Loren blinked. "That explains the conflicting emotional parameters I sensed in him. He was testing you," he said, looking at Neasa.

Still, the Bane was the Bane. Wincing and moaning, Krampus laboriously stood up. "Welp, just lemme change clothes and we'll go kick some Dixie butt. I might... need a minute. I think Buckster might've dislodged my liver or something, augh..."

Mentalor raised a hand. "Will you be well?
- Well? I've never been well, Spock. Give it twenty minutes and some booze, and I'll at least be functional. I'll be good to go by the time we reach Evergloam's main stockade."

Bucky's exhaust pipes furiously worked. "If all of that was just to test out our esprit de corps, I swear...
- It was, actually," grunted the devil as he walked off. "You fellas went as far as to keep Ciaran in the loop, which was great. It means the loyal Vices won't get to mess with your heads all that much - and that I won't get to kill turncoats. Bummer."

* * *

"Does that really matter, at this point?" asked Lucian, a bit of the previous moments' confusion returning. Astra looked ready to argue on principle, but something made her change her mind.

"I agree with everything, Aspasia - except the Flesh Mask. Sophia's seen him before, remember? At the meetup.
- She did," concurred Coach, "but the rest of Hope didn't."

Lucian looked down at the coffee table, being seemingly lost in his thoughts. "The Promethean Order is soon to be known by many in this city. George Gammell's circle of allies is widening. Mine hasn't. If we are to face demons, I would rather the people knew who - and what - is fighting by their side."

Coach took a sip from his coffee. "Here's a workable compromise: you pack your Flesh Mask and wear it for as long as possible. If something  pans out - or doesn't pan out - you remove it after we'll have explained things to the bunker's users. Sophia can keep people calm, and we'll always be just one phone call away from Shield's ability to vouch for you. Even without the need for secrecy, I'm not letting you ride Admiral while demonic rifts are forming across town - not without some basic protection. If you're wearing it and anything gets singed, then at least you won't get stuck smelling like something out of a Portuguese deli."

That made the Void Weaver part with something that was half a snicker and half a laugh. "God, thank you," he said. "I needed a laugh. To top it off, now I've cravings for fried calamari... Thank you, mister Robertson."

* * *

Arthur grunted. "I never much liked the man, but his roots as a sociopath are likely to make him an effective fighter for Chicago's own cause. If rifts open in other cities, Chicago would be a prime candidate.
- I found him quite puzzling," Horatio mused. "His idea of fun never did quite match mine, gladness and the scent of popcorn didn't so much come up as one of his reasons as to why he'd consider working with mortals. You'd figure basking in the amazement and quaint shocks of an audience would be nepenthe enough - but he always criticized me for failing to feed from my crowds..."

The addled Weaver giggled. "I mean, life is an all-you-can-eat buffet when you're a vampire; but moderation has its perks! Friends and customers, for one!"

The actor sniffed. "And he thinks Alana and I are too cautious in picking our fledgelings. Safety plays a part in it, of course - but so does artistic curiosity. I like to mix and match candidates, pick the circumstances of their first death if at all possible; and I need to balance this with my brood's needs. Francis picks from the Windy City's Sicilian and Calabrese contingents, and relentlessly molds them to suit his needs. The natives are convinced the Roaring Twenties never ended, the new blood wakes up convinced it's 1923 all over again..."

The snake, in the meantime, had slightly wandered off to watch as the mages organized themselves in a straight line. "It does give the Chicago brood a nice calling card," he said. "If there's plasma or magic involved, you're fighting a contemporary. If you're hearing Lugers, prewar Walthers or Tommy guns chattering, you've got yourself Chicago bloods to handle..."

* * *

Squinting down at the flower pot closest to Bagley's armature out of growing desperation, Three tried to move the inner pot out of the way only to freeze as he felt something lightly grind against it.

"Uh, Arch?" he called out, unwilling to let the inner pot's weight balance itself out again. He then turned his head and saw Aislinn coming. "Great," he said, "can you help me lift this? I think the stick's wedged in there but I don't want to let it settle into place. We could probably replace the broken hardware, but not Bagley's soul..."

Archie came out of the closest reading room and immediately bent down to try and stick a few fingers down the crack in the space between the inner and outer pots. "I do wonder," he mused aloud, "if the planes being open to all wouldn't simply make it easier for us to shatter the memory module and wait for Maurice to waltz on through Club Ishtar's gates, as did Anjali... Or myself, for that matter."

Three grunted. "That'd be Bagley's decision, Arch - not yours or mine. More to the point, do you really want to quit being a Clank? Are you ready to try being what Anjali is?"

Archie's felt tongue stuck out from the side as he tried to reach what he could plainly see. "Nngh - not to disparage my own daughter's nature, but I doubt I am. I rather like my stodgy, ticking and temperamental carcass, thank you very much!"

Three nodded. "Figures, or else you would've beat Bagley to the digital party!"
Locked