Chapter V - Brimstone

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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Crossing into the Frosthall without an obvious portal such as a doorway would understandably feel a bit odd to Neasa. One moment, her senses reassured her that she was standing in front of a vaguely sooty chimney wall, grey stones speckled with black spots of creosote and the originally white mortar having turned ashen gray over the passing decades. The next, the shadows around her and Anjali deepened, and she found herself standing in the far end of a dimly-lit corridor, a slight bend in it relegating Faerie's light to a vague dimness. With a few seconds allowed for their eyes to adjust, the girl and selkie could soon move forward unimpeded, turning the rather impossible corner. Neasa would find herself in need of stooping slightly, as the Gate wasn't connected to the room's spacious main fireplace, which had been made to serve as a stylistic echo to Oberon and Titania's Hearth. Rather, the Gate connected to a second fireplace - one that was barely big enough for a woman of Neasa's size. Anjali was too enthused by the idea of visiting the alternate mansion again to worry about her initially cramped surroundings.

The room they'd entered was impressively large, big enough to fit Archie's library and two of his sitting rooms. A single immense rectangular table occupied most of the space, with the rest left for high Colonial windows, various portraits, large potted ferns and two chandeliers that were about the size of Holden's single dining room ceiling fixture. The walls were lined with Rococo wainscoting and robin's-egg blue paint, dashed in with flecks of white and lilac. You would've assumed this to be a basic marbling effect accomplished with a sponge and a few accent colors, but the hues along the walls appeared to be slightly moving, like a colored mist trapped behind a wall-textured forcefield. A few darker accents could be found here and there, from the occasional golden accessory to flecks of forest green and the bright red of mistletoe berries. Both fireplaces' mantles were fashioned out of pure slabs of white marble, impeccably sanded and polished as well as liberally decorated. The table's decorative center might as well have been a small garden, as verdant as it looked - with the involved plant essences all being suitably wintry. Roasted chestnuts and pine filled the air, a distantly crackling gramophone managing a mostly steady acoustic rendition of Sussex Carol on a brass ensemble.

"I lost my angle finder here," said the girl, pointing at a window across from them, "I'm sure I did!"

They wouldn't be able to go much further before grunting and straining noises could be heard coming from the fireplace they'd just exited. The Okie samurai muttered and cursed under his breath, his girth likely forcing him to shimmy along the length of the corridor and to precariously navigate the bend they'd both taken. Stone scraped against metal, and a red, metallic and rivet-jointed hand finally came into view, pawing at the air for whatever was in front of it.

"Dagnabbit, stupid Faerie gates, can't make 'em for guys my size... Um, anyone here? I can just about-!"

He managed to clear the corridor's bend with a grunt and a few visible sparks flying from where his belly had rubbed against the stone wall. The mantle was another thing entirely. Shamus tried to lower himself on all fours and to crawl through, only for his midsection to be rather firmly wedged between the mantle's side pillars. Placing his hands on the wall at either side, Shamus strained as hard as he could, this other mantelpiece also distorting itself with blue wavelets of arcane energy. The twin chimneys atop his helmet produced a few toots of exertion.

"Aw, fiddlesticks! Ness? I'm, uh, I'm kinda stuck here!"

* * *

Nickar managed to beam at Crystal, a little self-satisfied head shake tossed in for good measure. "Why, Deputy Chief, I could sew you a nightgown that would not only keep you feeling refreshed at night no matter the weather, but you could also take it out in the field that any covered areas would only receive minor welts at best. Someone emptying a twelve-gauge in your abdominal cavity wouldn't hurt more than one of your lover's teasing pinches. Now, imagine my going for something a tad more practical, like a blouse or a jacket - and try and picture how useful this could be."

Three coughed lightly. "Hard to do any of this without some mojo, though," he said, handing out the check he'd written. "I need you to cash it in. Accept it, more or less."

Gingerly, Nickar reached out and grasped the check between two fingers. The slip of paper seemingly combusted on contact and swallowed the demon in low, red flames almost instantly. No heat was produced, however, and Drake's own fingers didn't seem to be so much as singed by the close contact. The tongues of flame disappeared less than a second later, as though someone had sucked the oxygen out of the room. No longer naked, Nickar sported a pink and plum-colored three-piece that contrasted against his ashen skin, a small roll of measuring tape cinched to his belt, a few golden rings with strangely flat caps covered in red velvet adorning his fingers. You wouldn't need long to realize these were practical in nature, essentially standing as miniature pincushions that proved useful when new garments needed to be adjusted on the fly. One of the bigger rings had a hinged cap, Nickar testing it and grunting satisfactorily at the sight of the light green piece of chalk the ring contained.

"I know you're probably more interested in whipping out your sketchbook or slate or whatever," said Drake, "but odds are you won't have much time for huge projects in the immediate. What are your resources, when it comes to defending yourself or your people?"

Nickar adjusted a pair of black-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses that had shimmered into being atop his beak. He made as if to inspect his nails, tiny spindles with a red glowing bead of Hellfire on each of them also flicking into view between his curled fingers. "Relax," he said, "I'm not defenseless. Most of us who grew up in the Pit aren't. I can stick to walls and ceilings easily, as you've seen, and I've been known to charge pins with Hellfire. A good flick of the wrist and arm is all I need to give someone an extensive and very painful acupuncture session."

His spaded tail then flicked into view in what seemed like a more deliberate gesture. "Failing that, I've got this," he added.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Crystal nodded approvingly at Nick's explanation. "Both defenses should do fine. A gun's not always necessary if you have more natural defenses," she mused. "All of those properties sound quite useful, Nickar, with the addition of being able to shift into my wolf form. Goliath Corp's invention of the suits that I and other therianthrope cops use has proved invaluable on the job, so I imagine you could do similar."

*~*~*

Briefly eyeing Anjali as she went to look for her angle finder, Neasa turned back to Bucky and his predicament. "Ah, crap," she murmured with a sigh. The tall roane ventured over to inspect where the kitaiteki had lodged himself and looked for any way to be able to budge him. There didn't seem to be until an idea dawned on her. "I think some form of lubricant might help get you out," she said.

Despite their seemingly unfashionable nature, Neasa had worn some dark blue jeans with pockets stitched onto the thighs. Fishing out a small tube of hand lotion, she began to squirt the white cream on the areas Bucky was currently stuck at and did her best to get into the tight crevices with her fingers.

Once done, she got in front of him and gestured for him to place his hands on her shoulders. "Hopefully, the combo of the lotion and me pulling will get you out of there," she directed, gripping the Japanese automaton around his upper half with her arms. "On the count of three, I'm going to start pulling, and you try to squirm out! 1...2...3!""

The effort might've been harder than the selkie had originally thought, and she hoped that Eireann's permission had perhaps given her some leeway on the gate's physical constrictions. "Come on, gate, give a little and let him through!"
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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The tailor demon squinted lightly and then shrugged, the gesture looking a tad debonair. "I'd much rather leave therianthrope gear to the professionals," he admitted. "Some of your fellow werewolves might be cursed in the coming days, and we never know in which ways they'll be contorted. It makes taking measurements an exercise in futility. Your human self, however, can rest easy in that I can keep it on its two legs for quite a while."

Smirnov looked back at Three. "As normal as this is for you," he admitted, "I still can't process it entirely."

Drake clicked his tongue. "I'd give you a rundown on everything else, but I think I'm needed for something," he said, looking at Azardad. "Crystal here can take you to Archie, if you'd like. He'll fill you in on the rest of what you should know.
- Before we get on with that," Smirnov asked, "I've got to know - how much of this can I pass on to Chief Alderan?"

Three shrugged. "I'd leave out one of our operatives running a joint venture with a local pillar for the Sicilian mob, and I'd especially leave out mister Azardad's involvement, here. Not to be dramatic, but he's the root cause for my being here - my doing what I can do."

Doctor X looked down on his ampule and syringe and worked a few facial tendrils, as if his thoughts needed chewing. "I'll need another McConmara for this," he said, "you might seize or spasm; I need someone to hold you down for a minute... Either that, or you'll just try punching me again."

Drake laughed dryly at that. "Way to make me look forward to getting a shot of an unidentified nootropic..."

Azardad rolled his eyes at that. "It's a rivastigmine analog. Paradise-farmed in Goliath's own little unethical biolab to make the standard stuff look like amateur work. They're looking to nuke Alzheimer's and Parkinson's just enough so both diseases become exceedingly rare and massively profitable. The idea is that if you've got dementia, you're rich enough to have it treated. If that goes through, Lucian and Jubal's recovery clinics for former cultists are going to have a hard time of it. Stuff's about to slip into Hope General's Neurosurgery and Trauma Wards - where they'll probably get destroyed thanks to our friends from Hell and their yen for excessive heat sources..."

Three blinked. "So what'd you do?
- Smirnov's goons caught me just as I was about to pack the last shipment in my car. Most of what the hospital didn't just store right away, I managed to stash in the morgue. There's still a big risk of the formula being lost in the incursions, so I threw it out onto the Dark Web for amateur chemists and Paradise's anti-corporate anarchists to try their hand at."

Aidan had to groan at that. "More prospective problems. Sweet."

* * *

Bucky wordlessly strained, settling with an elongated groan of effort that was followed with his helm's chimney-like horns furiously tooting. His poorly articulated face didn't sell the strain well enough on its own, but the rest of his body language did fairly well. For all her strength - along with Anjali's futile added efforts - she managed to help her friend scoot along to a fraction of an inch forward. If the mantlepiece had been in its normal state, his and Neasa's combined strength would have shattered it. If anything, they made the walls next to the fireplace glow a rather stubborn-looking shade of blue.

Eventually, aggravation and stress made Shamus fall back onto Okie-accented Japanese slurs,; his lack of focus allowing him to unconsciously wrap Gorobei Iwata's old fluency in Basho's tongue in a highly typical Prairies twang. Anjali couldn't keep a smirk from her lips as she heard her friend refer to the gate as a bawkuh piece of junk - the word Baka spoken through the worst accent to ever assume while speaking Japanese. Still, that smirk of the child's wasn't exactly long-lived. Practicality soon won out, and the girl opted to dash for the room's opened double doors, shouting "HELP!" as she did.

Another desperate push-pull combo, another loud groan. Barely any progress, either. Bucky let go after a few minutes and let his head hang, the fact that he was firmly wedged in place allowing him to put weight off of his hands and legs. He hung there, more or less supported by his immobilized waistline, and settled with a shake of his head. Knowing him, this wasn't dejection so much as it was acceptance of the situation's absurd nature. His head bobbed as he chuckled, and he looked back up to Neasa.

"Can't say that ever was my idea for us goin' out, Ness," he joked, "or that'll lead to anythin' predictable, like my vowing t'cut back on stuff..."

He chortled. "I guess them ol' warlords never thought tight spaces'd be their armatures' undoing! All that power, all that strength - an' Iwata's old shell's undone by a couple missin' inches."

The Clank's eyes rolled comedically. "Damn it all," he joked, "you're gonna hafta rip my head off an' bring it back t'Archie! He'll stick me on 'onna them French mechanical birds he keeps in the observatory - or one o' the monkeys. Shamus Wallace, gone bananas. I can see the headlines."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Crystal sighed lightly and eyed Azardad. "I'd prefer to wait for Neasa to return. I mean, I'm stronger than the average woman, but having someone of Neasa's caliber would be best."

The werewolf frowned and raised an eyebrow at the squid. "Aidan's able to do quite a lot already, but what will this new injection do for him?" she asked.

*~*~*

Neasa snorted in amusement at Bucky's self-deprecating humor. "No thanks. I like you whole and intact, big guy," she responded with a smirk. "Some of it's your size, but I'm wondering if the whole planar merger is making this gate slightly fussy. Japanese automatons in this area of the world aren't a dime a dozen, so it's in "No way, no how!" mode."

The strongwoman chuckled and knelt so that she was eye-to-eye with him, crossing her arms. "As far as us going out, I'm flattered that the idea has passed through your mind. I just figured we'd go for drinks and a meal," she said, knowing that his portions would be epic. "Though, with the way things are going, might just have to find a recipe for gargantuan proportions and serve it up when we have time," she said, her tone ever so slightly teasing.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Anton set the one ampule he'd been able to keep on the table. "It won't do anything for him, specifically. It'll wake up his hitchhiker, though," he said, tapping the back of his own neck. "That, plus a priming phrase I already set up during initial encoding, should allow for the Lexicon to start learning back from Aidan's daily life. It's largely been a Void Weaver patch for him so far, but I designed it to do more than just keep the Black Speech's adverse effects at bay. If I've done my job, he'll start being co-conscious with a newborn compatriot of mine."

He looked back to Crystal. "There's also another ally of ours, someone who has experience when it comes to harbouring alien intelligences... I'd think of her as a decent support structure for Aidan once the priming takes hold. He'll need someone to talk things through with. On the long term, the idea is we'll find some way to head to Paradise or we'll find a black market cortical analyzer I can mod to read his implant. One day, Aidan's going to more or less give birth to the first Void Weaver consciousness born entirely free from the Others' influence."

Three blinked. "Um, Anton? I think half of what you said flew past Lowell's head. The most Central has to put up with is blissed-out New Agers - there aren't a lot of cult cells downtown. It's all mostly near the highways and the industrial parks in Sandhill. You're probably her first Squid."

A few tentacles were flicked in annoyance. "If I'd been running things, I would've stopped by the overpass on Crenshaw, blown the lock off of the utility basement access and dragged the one calling himself Brother Fester by the tentacles - all the way to her office. Then I would've made her listen to him, stopping every now and then to punch his lights out whenever he'd get too close to the Black Speech."

He looked back to Crystal. "The Western world has had problems with my kind long before the recent burst of activity across the world's Nexuses. Xenophon Thanos is the problem's glittering and media-friendly face, but not every operative settles with regurgitating Yoga Nidra practices. The Southwest is host to a Prosperity Gospel group put together by a Priest of Dar-Larath, the Web is crawling with doctored Economics seminars designed to lower someone's resistance to my people's propaganda - just about every facet of leadership as a concept was infiltrated by a Void Weaver. We have cops, lawyers, judges, artists, professors - all the way down to vagrant community leaders turning your homeless population into an invisible and mindless mob."

* * *

Bucky angled his head as best he could to suggest a smirk. "Eh, I'd cut back on food too - I wasn't that much of an eater back when I was alive - but this damn furnace of mine ain't built for energy conservation. Hell, I worked through two cereal boxes and two egg crates this morning and I'm already hungry again! If anyone had an unhealthy relationship with food, it ain't me so much as it was Iwata. He's the one who had this thing built like that."

The Clank looked off to the side, where Anjali had run off to. "I think I picked my love of food from a scar he left in there," he said. "I used to like walkin' past bakeries an' the like - but livin' in there? Smells hit me like a freakin' tidal wave an' all I can think about is Where's this comin' from an' Can I eat some."

Footsteps were heard returning in their direction, first the little sneaker slaps of Anjali's and then someone's sharper clacks and clicks against the floor. In walked a vaguely blueberry-skinned anthro horse, riding pants and boots paired with a shirt and V-necked sweater, a flat cap resting on his scalp and between his ears. He had one hand on a cane and leaned on it slightly, his gait otherwise looking like that of someone who was still regaining their walking confidence after weeks of rehab. The lot of it was in tones of plum and lilac, except for the riding pants, which verged on a lavender-tinted café au lait. As could be expected, he looked more than a little worried - and more than a little toothy.

"By George!" lightly swore the horse. "It seems as though Milord was right," he started, and then hesitated. "Here," he said, "let me help you..."

Bucky tried to shoo the horse away. "I'd really rather you went and got someone with a better handle on their lower-body strength, mister...?"

"Mayhew," replied the horse. "Hope's first Winter-borne Summer Knight, at your service. Now, if you'll stop squirming..."

Mayhew approached the mantelpiece and laid a hand on it. "By Winter's cheer and baleful chill, this Gate, be henceforth open, will," he murmured, power surging out of him with a quiet shiver.

The entire wall groaned in protest, Bucky sending Neasa a vague look of alarm before falling all of three inches to the ground, his metal stomach chipping a tiny bit of stone off of the mantle. Shamus grunted upon impact and immediately worked to crawl forwards. "Isn't that the old incantation Eir used to open Gates for the first time, back in the day?"

Mayhew nodded. "It is," he said, understandably refraining from helping Bucky getting up. "We've had to repeatedly reboot some of the lesser-used thoroughfares, and Frosthall's connection to the mortal plane had remained unused for well over a century. "A little more, and actual crowbars and prying tools would have been of use."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"Thank you so much, Mayhew!" Neasa answered, seemingly recognizing him in his bipedal form. She then ventured over to Bucky's side and carefully guided him upwards. "The Countess had given us permission to come through here to retrieve Anjali's angle finder, but it seems it needed the right touch. And with the planar merger, it's not surprising it might be a bit on the stubborn side."

*~*~*

"So, in other words, you've effectively turned Aidan into a male seahorse, and he'll serve as a parent to some sort of Void Weaver consciousness that's developing next to his own mind. And if given the chance, you'll be able to get a body for it one of these days," Crystal summarized with a flat look.

She then sighed. "And by the sounds of it, with Void Weavers infiltrating every facet of society, it'll make the mess with Samoset, my ancestors, Nikolaas Buck, and the Void Weaver I now know is the Chamberlain look like a goddamned picnic in comparison," she groused. "And nobody will notice it until it's too late unless they're stopped, if they aren't busy swooning over whatever Black Speech-laced mantras Renewal has them on, right?"
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"An angle finder?" replied Mayhew, looking briefly puzzled by the concept of a mundane geometry tool ending up here. "What the devil were you doing here with such a contraption?" he asked Anjali.

"I was measuring the angles on snowflakes," she said. "There's lots of big ones on this window. I remember turning when I heard someone shout, then decided to come home."

Mayhew looked more pleased than surprised, and chuckled at that. "Ah, well, you must have heard His Lordship going for a feint," he said, briefly lifting his cane. "Mister Haskill has been attempting to teach me defensive magic and self-defense beyond those few shielding spells I already knew. As to your piece of plastic, I believe these windows' arcane frost might have swallowed it entirely... Let us see..."

As he started to make his way across to said windows, Vernon's voice could be heard coming closer. "Mayhew? Where have you run off to now, hm? You've only just warmed up, now is not the time to seek leisure!" he called out, a bit of jaunty good cheer hiding in the light admonition.

"Er, in here, Milord!" called Mayhew back. "With guests!"

There came a sigh, more amused than dejected. "And me without my morning coat..."

Vernon Haskill then entered the room, wearing a lilac-tinted quilted waistcoat over his white shirt and slightly billowing ascot tie. His pants seemed slightly tighter than usual, with the pants legs' slings held in place by his shoe's heel. Lilac gloves rested on his hands, and he balanced a foil on one shoulder as he walked forward. As usual, he had the face and frame of a man past his prime, but animated it all with the kind of youthfulness you would've expected of someone in their twenties. His ears were lopsided - a clear sign of mirth - and he kept an eyebrow lifted in a way that would've made Spock jealous.

"What have we here?" he asked. "Some of our neighbours, come to have a chat? Or is this regarding the current state of affairs in town?"

He then eyed the anthro horse. "You're not off the hook, old friend. I need those corkscrew-tip lunges to be worked on in time for the trial!"

Anjali suddenly felt shy, and tried to disappear behind one of Bucky's legs. "I - I lost my angle finder here," she timidly said. "By one of those windows..."

Vernon's debonair ebullience dissipated at those words, his smile growing more kindly. He put a knee down. "Well, then," he said, "you've come to the right man."

Bucky frowned slightly. "The weather's fine outside," he said. "Why stick frost on them windows?
- For privacy and security," replied Haskill, as he approached the set of Colonial windows. "Hell is encroaching closer, the Dixie Fae are on the move... I would rather Frosthall be a fortress worthy of my fiancée and I, in the immediate, than a shiny aristocratic bauble. I've already made provisions and ordered cots to be built and stored in the coal cellar. I suspect Holden Hall and Frosthall will both become rally points for survivors and refugees - we'd best make ready."

Anjali still looked a tad fearful. "Will I owe you anything, mister Fairy?" That left Vernon to scoff and sigh in endearment. "Someone here knows her Old Ways, doesn't she? You're correct, little Anjali - you'll owe me something, and it shall be my right to collect. First things first, however."

Squinting, Haskill paced along the wall for a few moments, and then seemed to select a particular window. He slowly waved a hand in front of it, frost crackling and falling away on his command - followed with the tinkling sound of a piece of plastic coming loose. The angle finder had apparently grown encased in the frost. He bent down and gave the implement to the little girl, who widened her eyes.

"It's not even cold!" she said. Vernon smirked at that. "That's magic frost for you. The defense systems didn't recognize the angle finder for what it was and opted to immobilize it. My sincerest apologies, Anjali."

The girl nodded, which left Vernon to widen his smirk. "Now, about that debt... I decree that I shall have it paid back on the spot, with a hug."

The girl seemed surprised. "You're not going to ask for my voice or my talent? What about my eyes?"

Haskill laughed at that. "I'm not Mab, girl. I'm an old man who remembers what it feels like to help out a spirited little girl with life stretching out in front of her."

The girl nodded. "You had a girl, once. Father told me. She was about my age when she died."

Vernon nodded. "That's why I'm not like the other Winter Lords, my child. I remember what it's like to live as a mortal. I remember what it's like to have a child. Especially a child who misplaced her things," he said, winking. Anjali blew a silent raspberry at the insinuation and grinned.

* * *

Three shrugged. "Renewal's a massive gray area, with a core of darkness I still can't chip at after months of covert communication with Xenophon Thanos," he said. "The bottom-to-penultimate tiers are pretty harmless, with a lot of goodwill stretching out in the lower rungs. We're talking decent educational programs, targeted internships for the disabled or the recently augmented, billions donated to charity with fully traceable transaction logs - even Thanos' own seminars are by and large harmless. It's basically just another flavored vector for mindfulness, with big talks on self-actualization and the realization of your true potential.

The brunt of the problem is located in the Exalted and Elite tiers," he said, which left Anton nodding. "Thanos wanted to filter out as many people as possible under the pretense that they wouldn't be fit for higher levels of consciousness. He confirmed me that he designed Renewal like a pyramid scheme exactly so as many people as possible would slip through Chambers' fingers. The problem is, it keeps your average payee at the level of Yoga Nidra seminars but enables the high-rollers in fairly nightmarish ways. Chambers is surrounded by a small cadre of starlets, fitness gurus and preparedness freaks - enough to form a small and tightly trained militia."

Drake sighed. "Thanos - who Meris knows as Nereus - did good by her in preventing most people from being irremediably tainted. It's also the best way he found to so much as sleep at night: he's actually helping some people and keeping most of the others at bay. Chambers tolerates it because what percolates through the system is the worst of the bunch: impressionable people with money and connections, or just plain physical or political clout."

Smirnov blinked. "You're telling me that the guy who looks like a Greek Luciano Pavarotti is actually a threat?
- Would be," amended Drake. "Or forced to be - it's complicated. If we didn't have everything else running, I'd mount an op to breach his Los Angeles compound or I'd have asked Gabriel to kidnap him out of there - and back into Meris' arms. He plays a good front, he manages to look all jolly or serene for the cameras and his faithful, but the last letter he sent me gave me chills."

That, however, was new to Anton. "What'd he say?
- He's angry. Pissed off and desperate for something to punch at. He used Chambers' planned visit to Renewal's Ibiza facility to trash the Los Angeles joint with nothing except his mind and the Black Speech. What prompted that was his taking to a few bright kids sent over by the Make a Wish foundation. They apparently had a blast two weeks ago, with Nereus getting to spend the weekend riding coasters and playing video games while lifting the kids' spirits. Read a few of his letters, and you realize he's a big kid at heart. He adores people, enough to sometimes wish he'd wake up human."

Drake sighed. "Chambers realized one of the kids had an acute glioblastoma, a shit insurance policy and no money to cover the fees for genetic culling and re-coding. We're talking weeks to live, here. He apparently targeted the kid with just enough Black Speech to send the cancer into overdrive. Kid's lymph nodes more or less exploded a week later, the cancer spread like wildfire, and he died before the docs could so much as induce an artificial coma."

Smirnov's ears were pinned back at that point. "I'd be... angry too, I'd assume. It feels like a euphemism to me. Did he get to take a shot at Chambers?"

Three's eyes were hard by that point. "He tried. Six of the Exalted kept him at twelve paces from Chambers, whispering nullifying incantations the whole while. They traded insults, Chambers left for Ibiza, and Nereus went ballistic as soon as he was alone. By the end of that last letter, all I get to pick up is crushing despair. He's honestly hoping that Hell razes California down if this means Chambers just might die from it."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"In the meantime, try to keep your angle finder and other belongings in their rightful place," Neasa indicated with an amused smiled. "Though, if you lose something else, I have a feeling that Mr. Haskill would likely continue to bargain with you in hugs, Anjali. He's just that much of a nice guy, though you'll need to keep that bit of info between us, okay? He has a reputation to uphold to his Court."

*~*~*

Crystal's lips were curled back in a slight snarl at how horrible Chambers was. "Regardless of how he feels, and with the upcoming trial and threat from Hell, I would still attempt to start laying the groundwork of how you're going to counter Chambers and rescue Nereus. And if he is in the depths of crushing despair, then is there any way to give him a bit of hope to tether himself to? I know that seems like a lot with everything going on, but there has to be something."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"And a different one to uphold with those I deem kindly - and supportive enough," nodded Haskill. "Now, about that payment..."

Anjali hesitated, then surged forward and briefly looped her arms around Haskill's neck. Not entirely convinced yet, she kept the contact short, Vernon chuckling good-naturedly while it lasted. When she broke off, he settled with an understanding nod and a ruffling of her hair with a gloved hand. "Marvelous, Anjali," he said. "You've done all those who preceded you rather proud."

He then stood up and looked back to Neasa and Bucky. "Now, for our brave heroes; I do believe a bit of sustenance is in order," he said, giving Neasa a conspiratorial smirk. "Stuck in my chimney like Oberon in one of his more plump incarnations; I suspect mister Wallace must have worked up an appetite."

Bucky shrugged at that. "Wasn't so bad, sir. I could go without, but if you're offering..."

That left Vernon to laugh aloud. "I could have you stay for a feast worthy of a king that you'd only run a few minutes late," he reassured. "Besides, I've business to discuss with Neasa," he said, "regarding Sharpe's cronies. Eir and I have been greeted by a few emissaries of his, no doubt as a consequence of our surviving the attempt on our lives. I've left the first two to return home, but Eirean made it clear she would be offended as a hostess, if he were to leave without her say-so..."

In Fae terms, this more or less meant Vernon and Eir had a hostage. A likely well-pampered one, but still.

"I'd like you to speak to him," he said, "to ascertain if my people's turmoil could complicate yours. The last thing Hope needs right now is open war between the Northern and Southern Lordships taking root within its walls."

* * *

"I was thinking through my options," replied Drake, "and the best one I've got for the moment is my hacking my way into the Darkhallow, the Void Weavers' shared dreamspace. I'd just called Meris over before Nickar came along, along with a Knight from the Order of Saint George that's stationed here. William Cuthbert's a fairly unconventional Squid, in that he's a devout and progressive Christian. I've tried lucid dreaming before, hoping it'd work, but all I ever got was a spotty sense of wide, open spaces and lots of greenish fog. I'm hoping I might ping Nereus somehow, call him down into the dreamspace, where I might arrange some sort of conference call between the four of us."

Azardad lifted his ampule. "This should help," he said. "If you can start thinking like a Void Weaver, you can start dreaming like one."

Three sighed. "Everything else involves more stuff that'd raise your hackles, Captain. We have angels and demons to lean on, we could probably lay waste to Renewal's California compound and be done with it right now - but Hope needs us more for now. I wouldn't feel comfortable staging a getaway along the Pacific coastline while the Goat's this close to tearing Hope open and letting Hell pour through."

Smirnov grunted. "No surprise there, you were never explicitly authorized for operations outside of Hope. It took all of Chief Alderan's persuasive skills to keep Doherty from jumping down your throat after you took off for Hong Kong and worked with Jameson's Triad connections. If word got out that you assaulted a public citizen's residence on suspicions of cult activity or fraud - and this far away from Rhode Island - you could be in for more than just a disciplinary hearing. I might be willing to understand the need for associates like Biggs or Magnus, the mayor agreed to fund a cadre of squeaky-clean local boys and girls to take down local hoodlums or to make sure Evangeline Buck doesn't overdo it on Halloween night. You were never supposed to save the world two or three times in a row."

Three scoffed sarcastically at that. "What can you do, Captain? Hope's short on lost kids looking for Mommy or cats stuck in trees. We deal in End Times-level shit because that's what the city throws at us."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

Neasa sighed and then shrugged. "I can give it my best try, but what makes you think he'll divulge much of anything? He could just easily sit there and be quiet while we dine," she mused. "Lead the way to your dining hall, though."

*~*~*

Crystal clicked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly. "For some, it might be in bad taste to criticize Mayor Doherty's intentions, but Hope's never been some quiet town where the strangest thing is Evangeline Buck's spirit causing trouble. Thankfully, Sophia and Jack are around to keep most of the trouble at bay; it'd be worse if they weren't. I'm not a mage, but I can certainly sense that much. And with what you've told us, it's going to worsen before it gets better. Doherty's going to have to readjust his outlook at some point, or the city won't be able to survive the coming threat. It'll make the reconstruction after Elysium look like nothing. I agree that we have our duties, but this matter doesn't follow a straight and narrow path."


Given how comfortable she gotten to be around Holden Hall, Meris quietly slipped in through the front door and followed the distant sounds of voices until she reached Three's office. She lightly rapped at the doorway out of courtesy and entered the room. "Hello, all," she greeted.
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