Chapter VII - Healing Pains

This is what you came here for. Adventure, intrigue, murder, mystery and action - plus a healthy dose of boring everyday stuff. One continuous story-line, broken up into smaller themes for easier consumption.
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Karl the Mad
 

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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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"My money's on him going full Shakespeare on us," Vlastos replied with a smirk. "He won't even last two minutes before the waterworks flip on and he's belting out the love poems, you watch." There was an intersection ahead, and he muffled a curse, glancing from side to side. But he didn't have Jenkins' easy way with the alleyways and shortcuts of the city, not in that truck, and he sighed in defeat as the red light brought them to a stop. "It'd be faster to get there on foot, but I can't just ditch the truck, not in this traffic," he said to Aidan, apology in his voice.

In the tower, from their hiding spot behind a row of cars, Charles and Abraham watched the proceedings in silence, both mutually agreed that this moment was for Meris and Nereus. They might step out once the emotions had simmered down, but until then, far be it from them to intrude on the long-awaited reunion. They didn't make a sound as they watched.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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"Ah, it's alright," replied Drake with a teasing smirk. "I'm guessing Enlil would consider having to contend with the occasional red light a small and convenient way to nurture your connection with the human condition - which is interesting, seeing as a lot of folks would probably like having conditional superpowers."

Back on the CB, Holden seemed to catch what Aidan was referring to. "A mundane existence except for all the niggles and hassles? Yeah, I've heard that one before... Embrace me, O Dark Prince, that I may fulfill my Anne Rice fantasies, find a conveniently-placed treasure trove and forever banish the tax man to the farthest corners of my mind! Turn me so that I may evade all parking tickets forevermore!"

Three grinned. "Yeah, I don't think Lestat would care all that much for the Vienna Council, honestly. Rice's Savage Garden has a lot more bite than she'd consider convenient."

* * *

A handful of packing peanuts and pre-inflated air bags blocked the way to what Meris would easily recognize as a Han Dynasty-era urn, its colorful glaze long-since removed - with a few unusual details.

To begin with, the urn was pockmarked with small holes of various sizes, suggesting it had been retrofitted from a simple container to some sort of low-grade lamp or heat conductor, like a soapstone oil warmer. Further investigation would've made it obvious that the holes' placement wasn't random, but instead correlated to various constellations. Past the surviving clay glaze, however, what was decidedly unusual was in how the object looked to have been carved out of a single block of stone. Han China had been reasonably advanced, technologically, for its time; but not to the point of having the sort of water-assisted drilling and milling procedures needed to carve that block into shape. The outside faces were adequately weathered, but the main container's cut lip was covered by a reasonably well-fastened lid. A few twists would allow the roane to figure out how to open it, only to reveal even more perplexing details.

Inside waited a small finger of quartz, suspended in the chamber's center by strangely barren-looking lengths of leather twine hooking into the corners. They didn't look to have been inlaid with runes or otherwise treated in a way that would've prevented decomposition, so their presence didn't make much sense, owing to the object's purported age. Squinting, she'd spot Chinese ideograms etched into the crystal's faces, but would definitely need better light in order to parse them out. Below the crystal waited an assembly of fine jade cogs, suggesting the urn's heavier base was host to some sort of winding mechanism. Pausing to check his dome's integrity for a moment, Herbert then pressed in closer to Meris, grunting softly in thought. Spotting a small hole at the base of one of the urn's sides, the Prince gave the Archmage a look and then lifted his spaded tail past his arm, using its own muscles and a few assistive twists by his fingers to wedge its tip in the hole.

"Bronze, looks like," he muttered, at least partially for Meris' benefit. "Fairly aged by the look of things - this is proving difficult to-"

Finally, something clicked inside, and the gears began to give in to the imparted kinetic motion. They, in turn, raised a small claw at the centre of the device and gripped the crystal by its base, the leather cords having enough give for the object to complete a few partial twists and turns. A small cone of light soon flared out of it, at about the radius of a hand at its widest point; the quartz producing aimless whines and trills as something caused it to vibrate. Finally, like a quartz assembly in a piezoelectric speaker, the tinny little squeaks gained in volume and definition, soon turning into audible speech. A small figure soon stepped into the cone of light - something that would immediately dispel Meris' worries.

George had never been one for cultural appropriation, much less for insensitive costumes, but it looked like someone had opted to have a bit of harmless fun at Meris' expense... The figure that walked in was a dead ringer for Gammell, with his projected maw and the opaque spectacles he'd begun to affect since his eyes had started developing. He appeared wearing a reproduction Han-period shanku two-piece and its complementing headdress, giving the pair a deep bow. He also spoke with a tiny bit of an affected Mandarin accent, something he wouldn't have had too much trouble getting coaching on, locally.

"Greetings, fellow Practitioner.

If your Practice has served any purpose, then it will have taught you that claiming wisdom and power for oneself is meaningless if no clarity of purpose is found. In his Analects, Confucius states that everything, and indeed, everyone, possesses inner worth and beauty - but that very few shall see them for what they are."


The hologram lifted a finger. "There is no Stone of Wu to speak of. 'Wu' is an operative word referring to all users of traditional Chinese shamanism - and the stone, as it were, represents one's own will to identify, see and treat all illnesses of the soul, mind and heart alike. Through meditation and application, one may use Qigong - what foreigners refer to as Via or magic - to see past all deceptions and finally witness Truth. This applies in themselves, in others - and in all that surrounds them."

Gammel then cleared his throat, removed his headdress and switched to a posture that was more in keeping with his own habits, with one hand going behind his back. A smirk tugged at the large corners of his lips as he did. When he spoke again, it was in his own voice.

"I apologize for this bit of cruelty, Meris, but you'll soon find this serves a purpose. You've seen other truthseeing spells before and wouldn't be surprised if I asked you to apply True Sight to those around you, even now. The fact is, there is someone here with you, in this very moment, who would prove resistant to the usual means of dispelling illusions. Rest easy - they mean you no harm.

I've only been able to have enough Celestial light loaned to me for this one bit of trickery, so you'll have to supply your own to keep the crystal active, once this message ends."

The toymaker's inhuman mien turned soft as a comfortable silence settled in, and his own gentle love pushed past the hologram.

"I've had one of my scouts signal me in advance - there's a kettle and a few chairs waiting for the both of you, in my office. We'll soon have something to celebrate."

George then brought his free hand to his chest and then back outwards. "Not even the Prince could grasp the extent of what I feel towards you; the amount of pride that's involved... All I can say is that as a fellow combatant, an operative, a researcher, scientist and hopeful aesthete - I love you, Meris. One could not have asked for a finer friend."

He coughed, recomposed himself, and then was seen starting to peel off the layers of the shanku even as the hologram's view began to flicker and fade. "Oh, and my thanks to Charles and Abraham, as well - I couldn't have been there without spoiling it all, so here's hoping no-one has obvious side-glances or chuckles in reserve! She's got to work for it, gentlemen!"

By now, one of Herbert's hands had alighted on Meris' shoulder, his tail swishing the way it usually did when something piqued his Fiendish interests and a look of mellifluous glee making him squint his large eyes at everyone in the garage, as though he would've been able to short-circuit George's planned game. Odds were he probably could have, but his station and his respect for the situation conspired to have him stick to amusingly mundane attempts at elucidation.

"Well, mister Olmstead," he noted, looking at the trucker's nametag, "you're the only odd one here, for what it's worth...
- Pssh, just scan me and get this over with. I've grabbed my pic, it'll make the rounds at the office and nobody won't give a shit if I helped some magic one-percenters play some sort of game."

Herbert smirked back. "I would, but for all of my inherited abilities, my good man, you're one frustratingly closed-off fellow. My seat should give me enough power over the Dark Arts to punch my way through some of Titania's own Veils, but nothing's registering."

Lee Olmstead shrugged. "S'cause I'm just another normie, sir - no fancy-pants demon with a title.
- That is a likely story," nodded the Prince back. "It's just too bad for you that I'm a demon: I know all about likely stories being the most damaging ones..."

Rolling his eyes, the trucker nodded at Meris and gestured at the box. "Just - do your thing with the thing or whatever; I don't have all day."

* * *

Abigail shrugged gamely. "Well, if you've got ideas..."

* * *

The Steward looked away for a few seconds, to piece things back together. "Well, they all had the usual clinical cornucopia for mercury - frequent tremors, headaches, insomnia, weird or off-kilter responses to my stimuli no matter how precisely I calibrated them, muscular weakness, trouble breathing - and these are things you sort of notice, right, in dead vampires? Regeneration's practically universal race-wide; you don't usually get asthmatic vampiresYou could force a pound of asbestos down their windpipe that they'd eventually eject it all, even if it takes centuries! Oh, and hallucinations even without my getting involved, trouble with memory, which made forming solid constructs to torture or condition them ridiculously difficult..."

Gremory clicked his tongue. "It's the mercury, obviously. In big enough concentrations, it binds with skeletal tissue, seriously fucks with the nervous system - and it just stays there. Undeath can't just rest easy waiting for anything like a hydrophilic response to flush out those toxins - body's never going to flush that shit out, ever. So you go through unlife thinking you're incorruptible even as things keep getting worse, and it eventually reaches a point where it defines so much of who you are that even in death, you're going to carry that with you, into my chambers."

He sighed. "It's sad, honestly. Hell's rules bring them to me because they've got some yearning to fix or a hole to plug - a Lust to sate - and they're not even aware they're in Hell. The lucky ones are just catatonic or non-responsive, they just live out their unlife in Hell unaware that they're even so much as suffering - so there's no room for catharsis or no hope for progress. The unlucky ones know what's going on, but they're mirroring Shihuangdi, framing it as some sort of delusion of grandeur or persecution, and they show up with no desire to cooperate, not even subconsciously. The worst aren't that far gone, clinically, but they're a product of their environment. They're Imperial China gone paranoid, and see the younger strains of jiangshi as being weak or lacking commitment."

Gremory added a shake of his head. "There's kids today in Hong Kong or Macau who actually look for jiangshi elders to turn them, and they're mostly unaware that only two or three generations ago, you'd look at a completely different incarnation of what you'd maybe call a 'Chinese vampire', if you wanted to be reductive."
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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Meris' shoulders noticeably relaxed once she understood that the odd box posed no threat to them, but the identity of the delivery man puzzled her now. As she listened to George's message, her features softened at the Toymaker's care for her and also the deeper meaning of its purpose.

The number of people who weren't a threat and wanted to get close to her were fairly limited. There was also the trucker's largeness that would fit with someone she knew quite well. Then, there was the white linen suit at Rhapso & Ariadne....Could it be him?

She picked the box up and cradled it carefully in her hands. Looking down at the quartz crystal inside, she cupped her hand at its side and began to feed werelight into it. Given that Celestial light had operated the device, the Archmage added blessing verses to the light to aid in seeing the trucker for who he really was.

***

Aspasia pursed her lips thoughtfully and then smiled. "Since the incursions, I've been practicing at trying to bring out more of my Fae side through music. Sometimes with my own voice, other times with instruments. The Choosing is special for Azazel, but I wonder what some of the fossils in the Court will think if they hear one of his cousins carrying a suitably magical tune on a harmonica in place of Pan pipes. I know a violin is more suitable to the Fae's taste, but a harmonica is certainly easier to transport."

Miranda lightly smiled. "Mom's not able to go full Wyldfae, but I think Mom's being in contact with the loaned bodhran from Queen Titania might've helped her learn more about Fae melodies. If they hear that, then that might give them pause, right?"

***

Hearing all of this, Aisllinn puffed out a heavy exhalation through her lips. "Well, that's a loaded mess," she responded flatly with pursed lips.

Ciaran nodded in agreement. "So we've potentially have jiangshi with those issues in torpor and then the younger ones wanting to be turned by them. It also seems like there's a generational disconnect between the different iterations of the bloodline."
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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Well, they'd been called out, apparently, so the two of them came out of hiding, doing their best to appear non-threatening as they approached the others. Charles waved, but otherwise they kept silent until the big reveal.

------------------------

Marius couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I haven't yet had that pleasure, though I've heard you haven't made it as a plurimillennial until it happens to you." The light shifted, and he moved the truck forward as traffic resumed. "Being cursed wasn't all bad, though the way it was broken left traces that I can still wrap about myself at need." They all knew by now of his skill in illusions and deflection, so he decided not to go any further into it than that.

They encountered no more red lights until they reached the tower, and Marius parked around back next to Jenkins' big rig. "Alright chap, we're heading inside," he told Arthur over the radio. "But we'll probably talk more soon, hm? Isn't that how things work when you're on the good guys' team?"
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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It took a few moments - the crystal had obviously been tuned for its accompanying apparatus and not for a mage's supplied werelight, but the same cone of light eventually shone forwards and away from Meris, briefly forcing all those presence to either squint or wince away. Still, from Meris' point of view, impressions began to overlay themselves over her field of view - like holograms designed to track the movements of the person they were based on.

Charles' was mud and dirt-stained, clad in clothes more fitting of a Norse raider than a modern soldier, longer hair pulled back in braids that were matted with sweat and filth, and old blood looked to have crusted into place underneath his fingernails - but there was life and vigor in his eyes, and something that went deeper than the supposedly vaunted Jenkins lust for battle. Somewhere in the past, Charles' soul had probably existed as a chant and flyt-loving defender of some remote Norwegian shoreline, as given to till the earth with his family on summer days as to load a drakkar for a few weeks of pillaging and slave-taking along the recently-discovered English coastline. Old warpaint clung to the hollows of his eyes, and his projection's grin looked as savage as it could've looked kindly.

Abraham's looked very much like the man, if the Israeli had worn tunics the likes of which you probably found across Roman-era Judea, with eyes and whip-cord muscles that spoke volumes: while some in the Tribes took to the faith to forge their culture and bring hope in dark times, Abraham's ancestor - his truest self - wasn't one to share in his faith. Even his looks alone sold him as a private sort. For the group to survive, someone needed to apply tactics and logistics, to assess threats and to consider all angles the goodly rabbis would've rather ignore. The projection followed Abraham's movements but here again, the eyes told a different story. Abraham's projected self had an unusually soft gaze for its assumed posture, as if no amount of conditioning or personal horror could hide the fact that he cared.

Herbert's own shade was a more grounded version of the overdone disguise he'd used to infiltrate Grishnakhal's fortress, with no added muscle mass, but a Roman lorica and immaculate white sandals you could've found on Julius Caesar, with a short, sheathed gladius waiting at his waist. His fingers were festooned with rings and his cape was draped over one arm, the crown of laurels here replaced by a partial circlet of living flame that was resting against the base of his horns. Where the Black Goat would've exuded contempt and cruelty, the new Prince of Pride's projection maintained a soft smile as it met eyes with Meris, quiet approval radiating forth.

Then, came Olmstead. At first, the crystal's light projected him as something close to what he seemed to be - a dumpy and unassuming man she probably wouldn't have looked twice at if she'd crossed his path on the street. Then, subtly, his features began to change.

The projection's clothes changed, going from trucking standards to a well-pressed suit, to a slowly morphing and cycling enfilade of other bits of male haberdashery, seemingly following a reverse chronology. By the time the shirt's collars had reached a seventies-worthy flare, Olmstead's eyes appeared sunken and weighed down by an immesurable sadness; something the shade tried to mask with too-white smiles and an open posture. Time kept flowing backwards, exhaustion leaving it as hope crept back in, waistcoats came back into view and grew more elaborate, ascots gave way to lace ruffles and powedered wigs...

Ever backwards did the projection go, even as its frame seemed to fill back in, stopping at the alarming three hundred-plus pounds that had been the Augur's at the time of his and Meris' meeting. Waves of receding healing and sickness washed across its frame even as its clothes turned ever simpler, referencing what Nereus liked to affect when he retired with her to the lakeside alcove, away from Dalarath's palace - until the clothes settled on the Augur's expected finery, the projection briefly posing as if for one of the Prelacy's formerly-frequent paintings and bas-reliefs glorifying their leader. It then broke its pose by meeting eyes with her, assumed haughtiness giving way to silent and earnest love.

The projection had gone opaque over the last few seconds, Meris potentially being too shocked to catch the sound of a Flesh Mask being carefully peeled off.

Out of it stepped Nereus Marinos, former Augur of Dalarath, and lover to Meris of the Arcades. He looked like he had a million things on the brain, a thousand effusive declarations to make - but he instead settled with slightly opening his arms while his eyes glistened, and his jaw quivered with emotion. A few seconds passed, and something that was somewhere between a sob and a chuckle left him.

"Surprise!"

* * *

"Something like that, yes," replied Arthur with an almost audible grin. "I'd hurry, though - the man of the hour is, well, having said hour as we speak...
- Oh, fuck!" replied Three, a mixture of amusement and alarm making him rubberneck ahead. "Think you can park this thing and, I dunno, vampire-dash us over to Meris and the others, Marius? I don't wanna miss more of it than we have to!"

Something clicking in the back of his brain, he then took out his phone and texted Aislinn and Ciaran.

"Get your asses to the parking garage's ground level; Nereus just got here!"

Another text was sent to a few others, including Aspasia.

"Nereus just got here - the plan worked!"

* * *

Abigail smiled, although the gesture seemed to evoke a measure of scepticism. "It'll give them pause, sure - but not everyone's going to stop and gawp for the same reasons... You have to remember that there's religious contingents in the Fae - and you've met Phineas Sharpe - that see the Fauns' eradication as some sort of divine punishment. You'll also find others that'll put themselves on the side of evolutionary biology and see your people's re-emergence as Science one-upping genetic stress - and a few more aggressive pro-magic types who really don't understand Chimeras as a concept."

She shrugged. "Long story short; just do what works best in-context - you won't please everyone no matter what you try. Get ready for idiots confusing you for a dryad or an Animate - especially if they're around Mom's age - and for fair-weather friends looking to use you for Social Media clout. It might be an official ceremony, it hasn't been any less publicized in the greater spheres of Faerie communications and PR junctures."

Anjali seemed a bit confused. "The Fae have PR firms?
- Millennial and Gen-Z Fae do exist, you know," noted Weaver with a smirk. "There's a large contingent of both Courts you just won't reach if a tablet, smartphone or television isn't involved - and Titania and Oberon know they need to reach out to everyone, and not just the old farts who care more about their dresses than for what this means for people like Azazel."

* * *

"There is," confirmed Gremory. "The fanboys only really want the power you get out of a mature bloodline, and the elders think the newcomers are going to turn out like them. I've seen enough to know this isn't the case. The younger jiangshi are either boardroom sociopaths feeding on empathic energy or what you'd maybe call Sin Eaters, people forging codependent bonds with mortals who want someone to help them cope with everyday life. They think they're joining a meditation circle or a Tai Chi group, and they're really serving as walking meals for an energy vampire. Sometimes it involves a gentle approach and the vampires involved provide a real service; and at others it's a barely-disguised cult."

Mantus nodded. "The sociopathic ones are smart, though. They've mostly folded into Falun Gong and other so-called self-improvement group funded by the Chinese government."

At that, Aislinn's phone chimed and Aidan's text came into view. It seemed like they'd have something more cheerful to focus on, at least for a bit.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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The crystal's procession of Nereus' appearance through the centuries gave the Archmage a glimpse at how time and their separation had affected him. While the certainty of his identity wasn't clear just yet, seeing the shifts in demeanor over the stretch of time weighed at her heart. She watched intently as each puzzle piece revealed his identity.

She was transfixed by the whole presentation, the swelling and mingling of emotions shifting her facial expressions between grief, happiness and relief. She was indeed wrapped in it so much that she remained relatively unaware of his removal of the face mask.

Once the opaque projection lifted, her reaction wasn't a swift run into his arms. Disbelief still marked her body language, as though his arrival was a slowly sinking stone in quicksand. Meris approached him steadily and ponderously, tears at the edges of her eyes.

The roane rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around what she could reach of him. The levy broke as she cried quietly yet openly. "You're here...you're actually here." Shock remained in her tone, while there was still a looseness in her embrace, as though waiting for this to be a dream or some reality-bending trick. His absence in her life had dislodged that sense of familiarity to some degree.

***

Abigail's assessment of how different Fae would view her gave her a thoughtful pause, while she nodded in consideration. "I figure that was the case. I'll approach them as needed."

She was about to reply when she received the text from Aidan. Reading it, her ears perked up happily. "Guess who just showed up! Looks like our star-crossed lovebirds just had their strings tugged on!"

She looked to Azazel and Abigail. "It looks like we'll be getting to meet Nereus prior to the Choosing. You can join us and meet the man behind the suit!" she stated, gesturing toward the commissioned garments.

***

The chiming of her phone paused AIslinn's response to their discussion on the jiangshi as she read Aidan's text. "Okay, enough of the serious talk for now! We have some cause for celebration!" she exclaimed.

Ciaran peered over her shoulder to see the message, and he grinned and told them, "Nereus just got here, and he's down in the parking garage's ground level with his big reunion with Meris!"

"I'll be closing up for a bit to go see them, so you're both welcome to come with us!" Aislinn said, quickly gathering her things.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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No sooner were the words out of Aidan's mouth, than Marius did grin and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, muttering something in the Black Speech; the younger man would feel a tingling over his skin, then everything went blurry and they were standing in the loading dock just as Nereus was saying Surprise! Doubtless the muttering was to keep him safe from what happened to people when they did things like that.

Charles blinked at their sudden appearance, and he couldn't see what Meris' crystal had shown her. He gave them his attention again, and quietly golf clapped.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

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"Wouldn't miss this for the world," purred Gremory as he rounded the countertop, which left Randolph give him an oblique glance.

"What?" asked the Steward of Lust. "One of my favourite go-tos to reframe wayward incubi was always a toss-up between Merlin and Nimue or Nereus and Meris!
- You knew of them?"

Gremory rolled his eyes as he ambled slightly ahead of Mantus and just behind Aislinn and Ciaran. "I'm an incubus, darling - if I didn't meet some of the people Meris herself sent to Hell, then one of my myriad relatives did."

* * *

Looking back to her handiwork, Abigail seemed to take in what exactly this all meant. "I should, shouldn't I?" she asked rhetorically. "The question is, am I ready to deal with the fallout? Friend of yours or otherwise, Nereus hasn't gone through all this trouble to secretly place an order for me to jeopardize it by making our connection obvious..."

Anjali shrugged. "So don't just come out of the blue and say it, is all. You're a Fae, dealing in half-truths should be a specialty!"

Weaver smirked ruefully at that. "Thanks for underlining how atypical I and a few others can feel in trying to act congenial, Anjali. A lot of the younger ones like myself turn into artful dodgers by necessity, seeing as we want to avoid the thirty-six onion-peel layers of Oaths and restrictive geas-work that turn people like me into people like Titania or Oberon. Call me disrespectful if you want, I just think mundane promises can be worth as much as any binding Oath."

Coach sniffed lightly. "So just promise yourself you won't, uh, discuss things in too much detail, let's say, when it comes to a certain portly calamari's haberdashery requirements."

Glancing back at the lich, the tailor helped Azazel down from his perch. "Alright," she said, "that's doable. Just let me close up and I'll be right with you guys."

* * *

Appearing into view at Nereus' relatively quiet exclamation, Three and Marius brought a micro-second's worth of lag to the proceedings as the former Augur very briefly looked past his lover's frame and tried to pack as much gratitude and recognition as a fleeting glance could possibly deliver, and hoped the importance of it all sank into the two men's awareness of the situation. They'd have more chances to celebrate in a more public sense in short order. For now, however, the moment belonged to Nereus and Meris alone. Three's teeth briefly flashed in a wide grin, but he settled with nodding. They'd all wait their turn.

Refocusing on Meris seemed to almost be painful, emotion tearing at an inner dike he'd erected over the past centuries. He shivered as he brought Meris closer, bringing his arms around her, with the fold of his double chin resting just atop her head. He gently held her close, seemingly paralyzed by what he'd later recognize as a form of shock - and only felt the dike give way almost a full minute later.

It wasn't much, at first. Nereus hummed one of the old melodies he'd usually kept for their quiet evenings in the Darkhallow or cove-side alcove by the side of the palace, when things had gone quiet and all that was left was the darkness of their respectively lowered eyelids and his fingers playing in her hair. He gently rocked from side to side as he did, and mostly managed to keep the tune for a full minute. More of his inner barrier gave way, soon enough, and his voice began to break.

"The memory of you," he said, haltingly, "is the only possession I've ever had in my own name in the past three hundred years... I first came up here thinking I could find you, thinking I'd grown strong enough to outsmart him - outsmart Them - but I hadn't. I'd so badly wanted to twist my gifts into tools for good, Meris - and he perverted my efforts in front of my own eyes. I don't know how many times I packed my bags, even just between 1975 and the current day - and placed my hand on the front door's knob - but he made me feel so weak - as though I didn't deserve so much as the effort he'd need to kill me..."

That looked to have particularly disturbed him, and his hold on Meris very slightly tightened. "You saved me, in these moments. We weren't together, we didn't even fight the same war on the same front - but you still saved me, just because I knew you'd always been the strongest of us two. I'll forever be grateful, my love. I wouldn't be here today without the memory of your courage," he said, adding a self-deprecating scoff and a sniffle. "Amaxi's lack of focus be praised, I can still rend minds if I'm cornered; but when it comes to survival? I'm a coward at heart, Meris. I wouldn't be half of who I am today without you."

His still-gentle grip slackened off slightly, and his tendrils gently coaxed the roane into lifting her head so their gazes would meet. Once they did, Meris would find herself gazing at twin pools of desperate affection, churning need - and unsuspected oceans of patience.

"I love you, Meris. Now and forever - and never again separated. Now, finally, we'll be able to build for ourselves; and for both our people. You for the selkies and all angels and demons you count as allies, and me for those of my kind. I hope - maybe foolishly - that we'll finally bring peace to these shores, together. That'd be the best gift I could ever give to you."

There'd be time for passions to explore or more effusive displays out of the public eye, but the liplock he initiated in full view of his allies was slow, deep and filled with a quiet reverence that demanded respect.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

Aislinn lightly scoffed as she closed up the Club Ishtar's doors and made her way to the nearest elevator. "I can only imagine how those teaching sessions went," she mused, getting in and pushing the button for the parking garage's docking area.

***

As they headed out of the boutique, Aspasia glanced back at the True Fae. "That's true. We originally came here to order some suits for Azazel and some garments for ourselves. You don't have to say any other than that. I mean, we're all meeting him for the very first time," she said, waiting for her to finish locking up and then heading for the nearest elevator.

***

Meris returned the kiss, leaning into it with a gently deep touch. The moment passed with the reverence of a weighty hymn. The liplock continued on for a few more long seconds before she parted from him.

For her, the kiss had restored some strength to her demeanor as she looked up at him. She still regarded him with tears in her eyes, but they were of joy this time, less of the sadness and relief of a reinforced emotional dam. Smiling, she responded, "I love you, too, Nereus, even beyond the meaning of my words. I'm staying by your side forever. The gift of helping rebuild a peaceful world for our friends and allies is a dream I've had for a very long time. I know it won't be perfect, but it'll be a happy one."

"Our memories together kept me going through the years. There were certainly times when I felt like giving up, but I understood that foundation we had was and is stronger than his conniving and machinations. I want to build upon it so we can live the lives we dreamed of, with everyone we saw in those murky visions, even our son."

The selkie met his lips again in another deep, adoring kiss as she held him gently.
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Re: Chapter VII - Healing Pains

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

That second kiss was returned, even if Meris would sense that having mentioned their son had troubled her lover. There was a quiet moan of anguish in the back of Nereus' throat as they parted - almost a whisper, really - and palpable distress in his eyes as he parted from her.

"I have you now, at least," he said, "and we'll find a way to free him - together."

He briefly looked away. "Laws above, Meris;" he quietly swore, "you haven't lived to see his flesh and blood carry out sacraments or strike slaves! His mind is out there, somewhere, and there's a monster puppeteering our son's limbs! Our own son, and I caught myself fantasizing of ways to kill him!"

Nereus gripped her hands, looking ashamed with himself. "We have to secure our allies, I'm well aware of that - but I'll find and fix him before I so much as think to build that house of ours with you. I couldn't live with myself if we gave ourselves what we spent so long wishing for and... abandoned him to the Darkhallow or the Shadowlands or - wherever he happens to be!"

Sensing opportunity, Herbert lightly coughed. "I may be able to refine your search, or at least assist in the process. Between myself, Ahriman and Gabriel, excluding the Outer Planes should be child's play. The Shadowlands should be similarly approachable for us, with some planning."

Slipping beside Meris and gently looping an arm around her, Nereus made space for the prince. "That leaves us with the Darkhallow - I've searched it from top to bottom, used every writ and waiver I could, every distinction. There isn't a single running instance I haven't scoured under false pretenses!"

That, however, was where Three felt the need to step in. "I'm sorry, Nereus - but you do know we have our instances too, right? I've got one, Marius has one, Meris has her own..."

Marinos wiped at his eyes and face with his free hand, his other one still gently resting against Meris' upper back, between her shoulders. "I know, but you would've sensed something, believe me. If you placed defenses like you should've, something would've tripped them."

Three glanced at Marius, his expression thoughtful. "Not if you're old enough to give the run-around to cautious types like Marius, or dance around my own efforts. I think that explains why Abraham got pinged like he did, and why that didn't happen to myself or Marius."

Nereus blinked at Zahavi. "I'm not sure I follow," he admitted.

Three smirked. "He's a Darkhallow virgin, Nereus! If you're a spy and you've got a message to deliver, you don't stroll through Fort Knox, not when you can pitch a tent in a low-security area and just lie in wait."

Nereus looked a bit apologetic, like he knew referring to Abraham as a "Darkhallow virgin" wasn't exactly kind. "Or it could be your training is going to edge your defenses towards one specific expression."

Figuring Meris could use a primer, Aidan then offered her a run-through of the day's events from their perspective, underlining the disturbing episode in front of the door to the roadside diner's cold room, and the fact that someone - or something - had co-opted an enthrallment process to contain the mutated human and deliver a cryptic message.

"Whoever they are," he told Meris, "they specifically told Abraham to get ready for tonight. Not me, not Marius - not anyone here with more experience with warding off dream intruders. Not even Charles. Just Abraham. If it's a trap, it's an incredibly obvious one."

* * *

(will add something for the others in the next round, I just need a bit of time to pass for things to make sense)
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