Aspasia smiled over at the lich and looked back to Lucian. "That's my husband for you, always good at making people laugh when it's needed."
Noting the number of people who would ride Admiral, the fauness looked back to Coach. "Admiral's no Clydesdale, so is he going to be able carry all of us? I've ridden him with you easily enough, but four people might be pushing it, unless the via that makes up his flank can displace somewhat to carry the weight. If nothing else, I can keep up with him speedwise."
***
Alana sniffed. "It's like a vampire reenactor's camp, frankly," she commented, then looking at their own collective sense of attire. "There's a difference between wanting to hang onto the old days and never wanting to let go whatsoever. We do the former, while Huey does the latter."
"That's quite common with older vampires. Monsieur d'Aubignier still has his wolf fur lined overcoat," Sophia observed.
Archie's maker nodded. "True. With any luck, we won't have to deal with Huey Francis anytime soon, but depending on how things go with the demons, we might," she noted with a grimace.
***
Rather peeved, Neasa settled with sliding her hand over her face instead of punching him across the room, sighing with relief. She then looked back in the direction her younger sister had headed and reached out to her, "Hey Aislinn? Kramp's antics have been nothing more than a ruse to test us, the shithead. Save your stamina for later."
Watching the prankster leave for a bit, the strongwoman then glanced the Kitaiteki's direction, a faint blush crossing her cheeks. Her telepathic voice sounded with the typical McConmara frankness with an odd dash of flirtation, "I've noticed you, Bucky. I like you a lot, Big Guy, but things have been so busy lately that I haven't had much time to have a private moment or two with you."
***
"That fucker," Aislinn swore as she got Neasa's message. She then heard Three's request her help and nodded. "Sure," she answered, adding her telekinetic prowess to the effort to retrieve the memory stick.
She then smirked at the conversation between Archie and Three. "Bucky's awake, and Kramp's been yanking our chain just to test our mettle, apparently. However, we passed with flying colors, yippee," she informed them.
Chapter V - Brimstone
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Coach pulled the thigh bone out from its sheath and lightly wiggled it between his fingers and thumb, a bit like a drummer testing a stick's balance. "I've been working on a few space-expanding hacks to this thing, and figured out how to create clones or doppelgangers of Admiral. I can only manage two beasts, but it's all we need."
He then looked outside. "The skies look clear. Should be smooth sailing from here to Sophia's," he said, a bit of a wry and disbelieving tone tinging his words.
"Famous last words," he then added, winking at the Fauness.
* * *
Arthur grunted. "I'd bet my cummerbund that a few horned fellas fall right in with the Windy City's underworld. They'd appreciate Huey's kind of sleaze; it might give him more of an advantage."
As luck would have it, Baby Huey wasn't the only one with a few fedora-popping licks. Hope had Alphonse Biggs and his own stretch of the family to thank for its own flavor of the Roaring Twenties. Detective Callahan's Art Deco Clank shell was one leftover from the era, but so were a few of Arthur's hired goons: boil and sore-sporting former grunts of the penultimate Biggs capo who looked like they hadn't missed a beat while still adhering to their roots. One of them might have looked like the type to smear pomade over everything, but now his hair was as clean as the old water basins' pervasive humidity allowed - which wasn't much. What looked like a classic six-shooter rested at his hip, while he'd added a modern tactical webbing to a belt that had definitely seen better days.
"Word from the rear guard, boss," said the man as he approached Arthur. "We're seeing rifts in the canals too. They're sending runts for now - testing us. We're asked to conserve ammo and go mêlée whenever possible."
Holden nodded. "Good. Several civilians are going to take to the Pedway's access to the old subway system, thinking that going deeper means they'll be safer. They won't be. The deeper they go, the more you'll be their main line of defense. Keep pushing - I want the old subway's dependencies cleared out. Try and funnel civilians towards the in-building subway access points across town, and tell them to head as high as they can. Away from windows and doors, if at all possible. If we have anyone out in the streets, tell them to start by emptying the homeless shelters."
Arthur looked at another vampire. "Alert the mall Santas we keep on payroll. Considering the season, they're our best bet to reach out to people quickly and to get them to the Pedway access points in the city's two malls."
Smirking, the thespian then looked to Ciaran. "We don't exactly have vampire Santas in town, but a lot of these old guys are seasonal workers or volunteers - they know the soup kitchen tracks like we do. Costume or no, the sick, poor and elderly listen when the mall Santas give advice. Same with the community cafeteria Kris Kringles."
In the back, the noise of incoming refugees increased. The dregs and freaks had come in first, and now the first of the suspicious ones were following. The tunnels easily carried the echo of some well-off mother scolding her kids for not choosing to obey her willingly. What had probably begun as holiday shopping had turned into cause enough for concern... Both columns were lightly jostled as Amazo pushed between them, muttering numbers as his headcount reached its end.
"Twenty graduate mages," he then told Sophia, "thirty-five undergrads and about fifty kids with raw talent but a few ticks off of the legal arcane tuition age. A hundred serious to would-be spell-slingers, give or take."
He grimaced. "I'd make it fifty; I'm not keen on some of these kids going from wide-eyed Harry Potter daydreams to shouldering the lives of twice as many people. It's too much, too fast. I won't be their Warren Ogilvie."
* * *
Shamus' features softened, the huffing and puffing of his furnace returning to a low murmur. He gave the roane a tender side-eye, but clearly felt the need to trundle off for a bit, perhaps to get away from a spot where he'd laid there, mostly impotent, for too long. Still, he hadn't abandoned the telepathic band Neasa had opened.
"Then we'd best make time, Ness," he sent back. "One of us might not come back, or the demons might prime Iwata so much I never come back from it. I might lose you, too. I don't wanna head out there bein' the belly-stuffin' idiot you pulled outta' that fireplace, and I don't wanna head out there knowin' it's just you an' me as team players."
A brief mental silence settled in. "You're more than just a team player for me, Ness. A lot more."
More silence. "I'll be by the fake Greek ruins, in the back of the garden. I need some air. Come and join me whenever you'd like."
* * *
"You find me overjoyed," replied Holden on a tone that wouldn't suffer misinterpretations. His demeanor changed to something slightly more chipper as he plucked out the memory module. "Ah - there we are! Now to restore it to its rightful owner..."
He briefly pocketed the memory module in his jacket, then circled Bagley's mostly stable frame a few times to make sure his friend wouldn't just stumble and fall upon reawakening. "Hrmph," he grunted, "I couldn't do much for the imposed forward tilt, Alkaev fashioned Maurice's spine to endure mortar fire. I daresay he could lift the three of us if we hung from his biceps."
Three clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I'm still not chummy enough, and Bagley's hijacked our local multiplayer server to frag us a couple times. We're almost as intimate as modern days get, and I couldn't ever Maurice him like you do."
Archie shrugged. "Your loss. In any case, I fear I might have to awaken the old bean in a bit of the Michael Jackson forward lean... Oh, well - beggars, choosers and whatnot."
Muttering Rule Britannia under his breath, the spy reinserted the memory module, closed the access port and clicked it back into place. The head's cooling fans were heard softly whirring, and Bagley's eye shutters fluttered as he grunted.
"I... understand that my service imposes certain considerations of propriety, Milord," asked Bagley, his voice groggy as he straightened himself out, "but I might I be excused this once?"
Archie smirked. "When have I ever denied you, old friend? Vent away."
The butler's Mancunian tones were a bit more overt as he spoke. "If that... tosspot broke some of our china, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
He then nodded to Aidan and Aislinn. "Mister Drake, Miss McConmara - you both look slightly harrowed, if I may say so.
- How's the head?" asked Three, which made the modern Clank grunt.
"I believed my new status would render me insensate to migraines or headaches. It seems I was wrong, and ibuprofen will do me no good."
Maurice squinted as he lifted a hand to his right temple. "I suspect my motherboard's CPU socket needs to have its voltage re-adjusted, but I haven't the time to spend twenty minutes in my own BIOS..."
He then looked outside. "The skies look clear. Should be smooth sailing from here to Sophia's," he said, a bit of a wry and disbelieving tone tinging his words.
"Famous last words," he then added, winking at the Fauness.
* * *
Arthur grunted. "I'd bet my cummerbund that a few horned fellas fall right in with the Windy City's underworld. They'd appreciate Huey's kind of sleaze; it might give him more of an advantage."
As luck would have it, Baby Huey wasn't the only one with a few fedora-popping licks. Hope had Alphonse Biggs and his own stretch of the family to thank for its own flavor of the Roaring Twenties. Detective Callahan's Art Deco Clank shell was one leftover from the era, but so were a few of Arthur's hired goons: boil and sore-sporting former grunts of the penultimate Biggs capo who looked like they hadn't missed a beat while still adhering to their roots. One of them might have looked like the type to smear pomade over everything, but now his hair was as clean as the old water basins' pervasive humidity allowed - which wasn't much. What looked like a classic six-shooter rested at his hip, while he'd added a modern tactical webbing to a belt that had definitely seen better days.
"Word from the rear guard, boss," said the man as he approached Arthur. "We're seeing rifts in the canals too. They're sending runts for now - testing us. We're asked to conserve ammo and go mêlée whenever possible."
Holden nodded. "Good. Several civilians are going to take to the Pedway's access to the old subway system, thinking that going deeper means they'll be safer. They won't be. The deeper they go, the more you'll be their main line of defense. Keep pushing - I want the old subway's dependencies cleared out. Try and funnel civilians towards the in-building subway access points across town, and tell them to head as high as they can. Away from windows and doors, if at all possible. If we have anyone out in the streets, tell them to start by emptying the homeless shelters."
Arthur looked at another vampire. "Alert the mall Santas we keep on payroll. Considering the season, they're our best bet to reach out to people quickly and to get them to the Pedway access points in the city's two malls."
Smirking, the thespian then looked to Ciaran. "We don't exactly have vampire Santas in town, but a lot of these old guys are seasonal workers or volunteers - they know the soup kitchen tracks like we do. Costume or no, the sick, poor and elderly listen when the mall Santas give advice. Same with the community cafeteria Kris Kringles."
In the back, the noise of incoming refugees increased. The dregs and freaks had come in first, and now the first of the suspicious ones were following. The tunnels easily carried the echo of some well-off mother scolding her kids for not choosing to obey her willingly. What had probably begun as holiday shopping had turned into cause enough for concern... Both columns were lightly jostled as Amazo pushed between them, muttering numbers as his headcount reached its end.
"Twenty graduate mages," he then told Sophia, "thirty-five undergrads and about fifty kids with raw talent but a few ticks off of the legal arcane tuition age. A hundred serious to would-be spell-slingers, give or take."
He grimaced. "I'd make it fifty; I'm not keen on some of these kids going from wide-eyed Harry Potter daydreams to shouldering the lives of twice as many people. It's too much, too fast. I won't be their Warren Ogilvie."
* * *
Shamus' features softened, the huffing and puffing of his furnace returning to a low murmur. He gave the roane a tender side-eye, but clearly felt the need to trundle off for a bit, perhaps to get away from a spot where he'd laid there, mostly impotent, for too long. Still, he hadn't abandoned the telepathic band Neasa had opened.
"Then we'd best make time, Ness," he sent back. "One of us might not come back, or the demons might prime Iwata so much I never come back from it. I might lose you, too. I don't wanna head out there bein' the belly-stuffin' idiot you pulled outta' that fireplace, and I don't wanna head out there knowin' it's just you an' me as team players."
A brief mental silence settled in. "You're more than just a team player for me, Ness. A lot more."
More silence. "I'll be by the fake Greek ruins, in the back of the garden. I need some air. Come and join me whenever you'd like."
* * *
"You find me overjoyed," replied Holden on a tone that wouldn't suffer misinterpretations. His demeanor changed to something slightly more chipper as he plucked out the memory module. "Ah - there we are! Now to restore it to its rightful owner..."
He briefly pocketed the memory module in his jacket, then circled Bagley's mostly stable frame a few times to make sure his friend wouldn't just stumble and fall upon reawakening. "Hrmph," he grunted, "I couldn't do much for the imposed forward tilt, Alkaev fashioned Maurice's spine to endure mortar fire. I daresay he could lift the three of us if we hung from his biceps."
Three clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I'm still not chummy enough, and Bagley's hijacked our local multiplayer server to frag us a couple times. We're almost as intimate as modern days get, and I couldn't ever Maurice him like you do."
Archie shrugged. "Your loss. In any case, I fear I might have to awaken the old bean in a bit of the Michael Jackson forward lean... Oh, well - beggars, choosers and whatnot."
Muttering Rule Britannia under his breath, the spy reinserted the memory module, closed the access port and clicked it back into place. The head's cooling fans were heard softly whirring, and Bagley's eye shutters fluttered as he grunted.
"I... understand that my service imposes certain considerations of propriety, Milord," asked Bagley, his voice groggy as he straightened himself out, "but I might I be excused this once?"
Archie smirked. "When have I ever denied you, old friend? Vent away."
The butler's Mancunian tones were a bit more overt as he spoke. "If that... tosspot broke some of our china, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
He then nodded to Aidan and Aislinn. "Mister Drake, Miss McConmara - you both look slightly harrowed, if I may say so.
- How's the head?" asked Three, which made the modern Clank grunt.
"I believed my new status would render me insensate to migraines or headaches. It seems I was wrong, and ibuprofen will do me no good."
Maurice squinted as he lifted a hand to his right temple. "I suspect my motherboard's CPU socket needs to have its voltage re-adjusted, but I haven't the time to spend twenty minutes in my own BIOS..."
-
TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Aspasia tucked the atlas back in her bag and scoffed. "As soon as they've got everything they need to take, let's get going," she said.
***
Sophia nodded. "I understand. It's the same logic that Alana wants to apply for the youngsters. No kids throwing fireballs and all," she agreed, approaching the snake. She looked over the counted mages and turned eyes back to the mage. "Should we transition them now? That way they can have a bit before the chaos really starts," she mused. "Or do you think it would be better to do it on a case by case basis. Mind you, in the thick of things, I may not be available to carefully raise their innateness to via."
***
Aislinn scoffed lightly and gestured back the way she had come from, smirking. "If it's any consolation, Bucky already got Kramp in the gut with the Bane. He said that's the first time he's been hurt in a couple hundred years, so he's currently walking it off. From the sounds of it, he, Neasa, Dr. Loren, and Meris were planning to go scare Sharpe's goons so they'd leave us alone for now," she explained. "Maybe you could get Dr. Loren to look real quick at your CPU socket, before they go."
***
Neasa didn't wait long to follow after Bucky, understanding the truth of the matter. Even with the agreements made with Sloth and the delicate discussion with Wrath, they didn't know how the conflict was going to turn out and who might come back alive. She thought of her siblings, each with their own significant other, and realized it was long overdue to make time with the Japanese automaton. However, it was better late than never.
"You couldn't have picked a better spot for some alone time," she murmured, surveying the marble pillars tucked behind the foliage of the Victorian garden. Her comparatively smaller hand came to gently rest in his, idly stroking her fingers against his.
***
Sophia nodded. "I understand. It's the same logic that Alana wants to apply for the youngsters. No kids throwing fireballs and all," she agreed, approaching the snake. She looked over the counted mages and turned eyes back to the mage. "Should we transition them now? That way they can have a bit before the chaos really starts," she mused. "Or do you think it would be better to do it on a case by case basis. Mind you, in the thick of things, I may not be available to carefully raise their innateness to via."
***
Aislinn scoffed lightly and gestured back the way she had come from, smirking. "If it's any consolation, Bucky already got Kramp in the gut with the Bane. He said that's the first time he's been hurt in a couple hundred years, so he's currently walking it off. From the sounds of it, he, Neasa, Dr. Loren, and Meris were planning to go scare Sharpe's goons so they'd leave us alone for now," she explained. "Maybe you could get Dr. Loren to look real quick at your CPU socket, before they go."
***
Neasa didn't wait long to follow after Bucky, understanding the truth of the matter. Even with the agreements made with Sloth and the delicate discussion with Wrath, they didn't know how the conflict was going to turn out and who might come back alive. She thought of her siblings, each with their own significant other, and realized it was long overdue to make time with the Japanese automaton. However, it was better late than never.
"You couldn't have picked a better spot for some alone time," she murmured, surveying the marble pillars tucked behind the foliage of the Victorian garden. Her comparatively smaller hand came to gently rest in his, idly stroking her fingers against his.
-
IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Lucian not being especially fast on his feet, he waited for Astra to pick up a few things and for her to assist him with his coat. His head shaked slightly as he watched his granddaughter smooth out the coat's lapels, something in his eyes suggesting he'd lost track of reality again. "I must say," he started, chuckling in befuddledment, "I'm a tad lost as to where we might be going... Did you tell me beforehand, my dear?"
Astra pursed her lips together and tried to keep busy. "We're headed for Sophia's, Grandpa. You need your Flesh Mask," she said, handing the admittedly grisly item to the Void Weaver. Lucian looked to be rather out of it for now, however, as he gently patted the woman's wrist, lightly admonishing her. "Really now, Alice; do you really think I need to hide from my own family?"
The mulatto woman looked a bit flustered. "I'm not-" she started, before realization made her features look pained again.
"Alice was his wife, back in Dalarath," she explained. "The first of his slaves and the first one he freed. Dalarath took in people from all over the globe as chattel - Alice was English."
Coach opted to be proactive and drew on what Lucian had mentioned of Void Weaver culture back during the meetup. "I'd still rather you wore it, sir," he started. "We're headed for some drafty caverns and the Many-Armed's been testy, lately. With disease spreading, I won't let you fall ill."
Rothchild looked briefly disappointed, but having developed dementia didn't mean he couldn't be reasonable. "Of course, of course," he said, nodding and chuckling. "H-How curious, eh? I'm sure I'd remember having purchased and freed a lich, of all people..."
Silas drew in a breath. "I'm a... good friend of Alice's. She would've vouched for our needing to go."
* * *
"I wouldn't raise it so much as I'd temper it. They're like kids standing underneath power pylons; they can feel the Tree humming and it's scaring a fair few. A lot of 'em haven't ever been so close to the Nexus before."
He then turned to face the group and whistled sharply. "Alright, spell-slingers! You're headed for the chamber behind us! I need you to line the far wall, looking back to the gallery! Everyone find a seat - if the rocks and soil aren't comfortable, use each other's extra layers as cushions. You're about to get a crash course on preparatory meditation and on how to safely and directly connect to a Nexus. Sophia might tweak your dials for good measure, but I will personally hex anyone I see trying to pull a Rendell! Tug on her connection, and that'll just tell the both of us that you aren't ready! You'll all only get as much power as Sophia's willing to portion off - no favorites or take-backsies! All you would-be Harry Dresdens can keep your hands down, today's focus is on the discipline of Illusion. Fireballs and lightning come afterwards!"
He then addressed the other group. "Group B, you're the catalyst for one heck of a big illusion spell! You're all at the other end of this gallery, so us mages can stare at your pretty faces long enough for your doubles to look convincing! Your job's an easy one: look frightened. Imagine there's already hungry demons down here looking for a bowl of Mortal Chow, and huddle up together! Kids in the back - let's be realistic about it, alright?"
A few hands shot up, one of them speaking up. "Some of us made some demonic patrons, since possession cases started cropping up. A few of us have proof we're being credited by Pandemonium or Solomon's people. Should we jump in?"
Amazo pointed at the young Punk-looking woman who'd stepped in front. "Alright - we've got ourselves a baby Warlock! What kind of proof are we talking? Don't be shy - I might not be a Warlock myself, but I know my demonology!"
The girl exposed a tattoo on her forearm, its render etching out the seal of one of King Solomon's seventy-plus advisers. Amazo squinted.
"That's Agares' seal... If he's working with Meris, I don't have a lot of reasons to doubt you. You worked in the media, kid? Agares doesn't usually pick people without some kind of matching background to his."
The girl nodded. "I'm a line producer for the Democratic Action podcast - and a baby Warlock.
- So what's he like?" asked the snake. "Agares, I mean."
The Punk girl smirked. "Imagine J. Jonah Jameson as a staunch Progressive, only he's got six Red Bulls down his gullet. Always late, always pissed off that he's being summoned, but always glad to help a sister out."
Amazo settled with a smirk of his own. "We'll have to talk shop once the world's not about to come crashing down. What's your name, kiddo?
- Claudia," said the girl. "Claudia Cameron. Meris saved my mom, a few months back."
* * *
"It might be wise," concurred Bagley, whose steps looked perhaps just a tad less assured. Three opted to stay close as the android made his way down and then headed to the lobby, where Loren was waiting.
"Doctor Loren," he began. "Could I trouble you with a small issue? My head has been splitting since I was rebooted."
The Karthian didn't waste much time and gestured for the butler to turn around. He then levitated off the ground, placing himself where he'd be able to comfortably look down into Bagley's maintenance ports. "I'm guessing Archibald didn't think to place you in Recovery mode before re-inserting the stick, correct?"
Archie's cane clicked as he came down. "No. Is this an issue?
- Neuralgia is a frequent symptom in hard reset subjects for Alkaev armatures. General advice suggests placing the mind in Sleep mode before performing any non-standard operations. That non-physical pain could cascade into CPU timing errors if left untreated, but I understand it's only just now happened..."
Loren grunted and pushed his tongue against one of his cheeks thoughtfully. "Hm. Lock your knees for me, mister Bagley. I'm about to place you in Recovery mode and re-seat your memory chip. You'll experience about thirty seconds' worth of additional memory loss."
The butler did as he was told, posing as though he wanted to touch his toes without bending his knees. Loren tapped on a few items on the normally-hidden LCD panel used for maintenance, and the android's limbs went lightly slack. His eye shutters lowered; Loren waiting for the first of a few soft snores to escape him. Once that occurred, he clicked the retrieved memory stick out of its housing and then pushed it back down, placing Bagley in a wake-up cycle with a few taps. The port once again closed, he waited until Bagley's eyes creaked open and blinked.
"Marvelous, doctor," he lightly commented, straightening himself again. "However short-lived it was, this headache made me wonder how I would go about putting order in this place."
Something seemed to strike Mentalor. "I do wonder, mister Bagley. How long has it been since you've had a good combat run?
- I'm in no particular hurry to leave the bench, as it were," confided the android. "I've a household that needs tending to.
- And a city on the brink. With mister Magnus and the others staying behind, I believe you could spare forty minutes in Evergloam. Besides, it's been a minute since the local fractious Fae have known to keep an eye on Archibald Holden's batman..."
By way of a question, Bagley settled with quirking a Cupertino-designed metallic spindle of an eyebrow at Meris.
* * *
Bucky looked down on her hand for what felt like an agonizingly long second, his fingers curling over hers. He then sighed.
"Gosh darn it," he swore, both his hands grasping Neasa by the shoulders and lifting her off the ground. He then shifted one hand around her waist and used the other to offer something elevated for her feet to rest onto. That done, the huge mitt that had been supporting her waist shifted to cup the back of her head - and he kissed her.
As with Archie and Crystal, Neasa would find that the red iron of Bucky's lips was surprisingly warm - almost humanlike - and strangely flexible. His jaw had only ever allowed for up-down motions and he'd only ever smirked or pouted by angling his head differently, but now it moved against her lips, shaped iron moving like the flesh of a large man's jaw, a tongue that had never been there before radiating ghost-like warmth just in front of her own mouth, too polite to dart inwards to taste her. He then parted from her, his breath shuddering not with rage, but with sudden passion.
"As much as I love your family, your friends or Arch, you're the only one I'd mourn if we lost," he then said. "Everyone else knew what they got themselves into and I know you do too, but - losing you? I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I realized the kinda stakes we're up against," he said, as he lightly gripped her hands, "and I wanna lay in the garden with you again. I wanna go on walks again. I wanna force myself to nosh on crumbs all so we have normal meals together. All I know is when you're around, I stop feelin' hungry or tired - and your own take on your family's gift for sarcasm kinda makes me wanna chirp every time!"
He chuckled weakly. "You're a bruiser with an eye for detail work; you've got fairy hands I'd kill to have, fairy hands I could watch workin' on the portable sewin' machine you brought over one time, or even just at your desktop."
Then followed a shrug. "Plus, you make my old rigmarole feel so special, for once. I can lay here in the summer for all three months on my lonesome if I want to that much, but I loved that we got twenty or twenty-five minutes over the season to just - lay down and read, comment on what was on each other's pages."
He stopped, looking like he'd finally laid bare something he'd been holding onto for quite a while. "So, um... I don't wanna lose that. Or you. Ever. Now if that's too much too fast and you want me to set you back down, just tell me. I'll set you down, we'll laugh this off - an' I'll go back to bein' terrified."
Astra pursed her lips together and tried to keep busy. "We're headed for Sophia's, Grandpa. You need your Flesh Mask," she said, handing the admittedly grisly item to the Void Weaver. Lucian looked to be rather out of it for now, however, as he gently patted the woman's wrist, lightly admonishing her. "Really now, Alice; do you really think I need to hide from my own family?"
The mulatto woman looked a bit flustered. "I'm not-" she started, before realization made her features look pained again.
"Alice was his wife, back in Dalarath," she explained. "The first of his slaves and the first one he freed. Dalarath took in people from all over the globe as chattel - Alice was English."
Coach opted to be proactive and drew on what Lucian had mentioned of Void Weaver culture back during the meetup. "I'd still rather you wore it, sir," he started. "We're headed for some drafty caverns and the Many-Armed's been testy, lately. With disease spreading, I won't let you fall ill."
Rothchild looked briefly disappointed, but having developed dementia didn't mean he couldn't be reasonable. "Of course, of course," he said, nodding and chuckling. "H-How curious, eh? I'm sure I'd remember having purchased and freed a lich, of all people..."
Silas drew in a breath. "I'm a... good friend of Alice's. She would've vouched for our needing to go."
* * *
"I wouldn't raise it so much as I'd temper it. They're like kids standing underneath power pylons; they can feel the Tree humming and it's scaring a fair few. A lot of 'em haven't ever been so close to the Nexus before."
He then turned to face the group and whistled sharply. "Alright, spell-slingers! You're headed for the chamber behind us! I need you to line the far wall, looking back to the gallery! Everyone find a seat - if the rocks and soil aren't comfortable, use each other's extra layers as cushions. You're about to get a crash course on preparatory meditation and on how to safely and directly connect to a Nexus. Sophia might tweak your dials for good measure, but I will personally hex anyone I see trying to pull a Rendell! Tug on her connection, and that'll just tell the both of us that you aren't ready! You'll all only get as much power as Sophia's willing to portion off - no favorites or take-backsies! All you would-be Harry Dresdens can keep your hands down, today's focus is on the discipline of Illusion. Fireballs and lightning come afterwards!"
He then addressed the other group. "Group B, you're the catalyst for one heck of a big illusion spell! You're all at the other end of this gallery, so us mages can stare at your pretty faces long enough for your doubles to look convincing! Your job's an easy one: look frightened. Imagine there's already hungry demons down here looking for a bowl of Mortal Chow, and huddle up together! Kids in the back - let's be realistic about it, alright?"
A few hands shot up, one of them speaking up. "Some of us made some demonic patrons, since possession cases started cropping up. A few of us have proof we're being credited by Pandemonium or Solomon's people. Should we jump in?"
Amazo pointed at the young Punk-looking woman who'd stepped in front. "Alright - we've got ourselves a baby Warlock! What kind of proof are we talking? Don't be shy - I might not be a Warlock myself, but I know my demonology!"
The girl exposed a tattoo on her forearm, its render etching out the seal of one of King Solomon's seventy-plus advisers. Amazo squinted.
"That's Agares' seal... If he's working with Meris, I don't have a lot of reasons to doubt you. You worked in the media, kid? Agares doesn't usually pick people without some kind of matching background to his."
The girl nodded. "I'm a line producer for the Democratic Action podcast - and a baby Warlock.
- So what's he like?" asked the snake. "Agares, I mean."
The Punk girl smirked. "Imagine J. Jonah Jameson as a staunch Progressive, only he's got six Red Bulls down his gullet. Always late, always pissed off that he's being summoned, but always glad to help a sister out."
Amazo settled with a smirk of his own. "We'll have to talk shop once the world's not about to come crashing down. What's your name, kiddo?
- Claudia," said the girl. "Claudia Cameron. Meris saved my mom, a few months back."
* * *
"It might be wise," concurred Bagley, whose steps looked perhaps just a tad less assured. Three opted to stay close as the android made his way down and then headed to the lobby, where Loren was waiting.
"Doctor Loren," he began. "Could I trouble you with a small issue? My head has been splitting since I was rebooted."
The Karthian didn't waste much time and gestured for the butler to turn around. He then levitated off the ground, placing himself where he'd be able to comfortably look down into Bagley's maintenance ports. "I'm guessing Archibald didn't think to place you in Recovery mode before re-inserting the stick, correct?"
Archie's cane clicked as he came down. "No. Is this an issue?
- Neuralgia is a frequent symptom in hard reset subjects for Alkaev armatures. General advice suggests placing the mind in Sleep mode before performing any non-standard operations. That non-physical pain could cascade into CPU timing errors if left untreated, but I understand it's only just now happened..."
Loren grunted and pushed his tongue against one of his cheeks thoughtfully. "Hm. Lock your knees for me, mister Bagley. I'm about to place you in Recovery mode and re-seat your memory chip. You'll experience about thirty seconds' worth of additional memory loss."
The butler did as he was told, posing as though he wanted to touch his toes without bending his knees. Loren tapped on a few items on the normally-hidden LCD panel used for maintenance, and the android's limbs went lightly slack. His eye shutters lowered; Loren waiting for the first of a few soft snores to escape him. Once that occurred, he clicked the retrieved memory stick out of its housing and then pushed it back down, placing Bagley in a wake-up cycle with a few taps. The port once again closed, he waited until Bagley's eyes creaked open and blinked.
"Marvelous, doctor," he lightly commented, straightening himself again. "However short-lived it was, this headache made me wonder how I would go about putting order in this place."
Something seemed to strike Mentalor. "I do wonder, mister Bagley. How long has it been since you've had a good combat run?
- I'm in no particular hurry to leave the bench, as it were," confided the android. "I've a household that needs tending to.
- And a city on the brink. With mister Magnus and the others staying behind, I believe you could spare forty minutes in Evergloam. Besides, it's been a minute since the local fractious Fae have known to keep an eye on Archibald Holden's batman..."
By way of a question, Bagley settled with quirking a Cupertino-designed metallic spindle of an eyebrow at Meris.
* * *
Bucky looked down on her hand for what felt like an agonizingly long second, his fingers curling over hers. He then sighed.
"Gosh darn it," he swore, both his hands grasping Neasa by the shoulders and lifting her off the ground. He then shifted one hand around her waist and used the other to offer something elevated for her feet to rest onto. That done, the huge mitt that had been supporting her waist shifted to cup the back of her head - and he kissed her.
As with Archie and Crystal, Neasa would find that the red iron of Bucky's lips was surprisingly warm - almost humanlike - and strangely flexible. His jaw had only ever allowed for up-down motions and he'd only ever smirked or pouted by angling his head differently, but now it moved against her lips, shaped iron moving like the flesh of a large man's jaw, a tongue that had never been there before radiating ghost-like warmth just in front of her own mouth, too polite to dart inwards to taste her. He then parted from her, his breath shuddering not with rage, but with sudden passion.
"As much as I love your family, your friends or Arch, you're the only one I'd mourn if we lost," he then said. "Everyone else knew what they got themselves into and I know you do too, but - losing you? I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I realized the kinda stakes we're up against," he said, as he lightly gripped her hands, "and I wanna lay in the garden with you again. I wanna go on walks again. I wanna force myself to nosh on crumbs all so we have normal meals together. All I know is when you're around, I stop feelin' hungry or tired - and your own take on your family's gift for sarcasm kinda makes me wanna chirp every time!"
He chuckled weakly. "You're a bruiser with an eye for detail work; you've got fairy hands I'd kill to have, fairy hands I could watch workin' on the portable sewin' machine you brought over one time, or even just at your desktop."
Then followed a shrug. "Plus, you make my old rigmarole feel so special, for once. I can lay here in the summer for all three months on my lonesome if I want to that much, but I loved that we got twenty or twenty-five minutes over the season to just - lay down and read, comment on what was on each other's pages."
He stopped, looking like he'd finally laid bare something he'd been holding onto for quite a while. "So, um... I don't wanna lose that. Or you. Ever. Now if that's too much too fast and you want me to set you back down, just tell me. I'll set you down, we'll laugh this off - an' I'll go back to bein' terrified."
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TennyoCeres84
- Site Admin
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
If Lucian was having trouble remembering the nonexistence of a lich in his old household, what would he think of a faun being there? Still, she went with Silas's lead and supplied, "We're both friends of Alice's. The Flesh Mask will add a layer of warmth against the brisk air," she promised. "I'm sure Meris would agree, sir. You have to keep your strength up."
***
A look of partial recognition, at least by the girl's name, dawned in Sophia's eyes. "Yes, Meris mentioned you some time ago," she noted, then looking back to Francis. "Her mother was in the hospital with Stage 4 cancer while also possessed by an imp who had stolen Azorthagal's name. She exorcised the imp and dialed the progress of her cancer down to a Stage 1."
"Chances are Meris has met Agares at least," she deduced, smiling at the young woman. "Your patron also works with Meris, since she was named the current Heiress a few weeks back."
***
"As we were talking about, Dr. Loren, Neasa, Mr. Kramp, and I were going to pay some of Sharpe's men a wee visit in a jail cell and make sure they don't come back to Hope anytime soon," Meris answered with a playful smirk. "Given Archibald's history with Phineas Sharpe, something tells me that you wouldn't want to avoid giving them a scare, eh? Not to mention, they were responsible for an attack on the Countess, the Lord, and Mayhew recently. So all the more reason to get them to shove off."
***
The selkie had felt like their personal situation had been coming to some sort of resolution after months of dancing around each other, and even then, his kiss had surprised her. Albeit, it was quite welcome. It told her where he stood, along with his words. The relative chasteness had left her wanting more, but she understood that Bucky had shown a great deal of courage to open up about how he felt for her while not wanting to presume too much.
Neasa gently cupped the sides of his face and smiled. "I absolutely want to keep doing those things with you, Bucky, and I'm going to fight my hardest to ensure that we do. You're a bruiser, too, but your touch can be so considerate. I love your laidback zeal for life and your warmth. You make me laugh and want to spend even more time with you," she acknowledged.
To dismiss any lingering self-doubt he might have still had, her hands left his face only to have her arms wrap around his neck and pull him close. She wasn't near as shy with the returning liplock as he had been, and he'd able to get a full taste of her mouth. Her lips were soft but questing, displaying her own earnest passion.
***
A look of partial recognition, at least by the girl's name, dawned in Sophia's eyes. "Yes, Meris mentioned you some time ago," she noted, then looking back to Francis. "Her mother was in the hospital with Stage 4 cancer while also possessed by an imp who had stolen Azorthagal's name. She exorcised the imp and dialed the progress of her cancer down to a Stage 1."
"Chances are Meris has met Agares at least," she deduced, smiling at the young woman. "Your patron also works with Meris, since she was named the current Heiress a few weeks back."
***
"As we were talking about, Dr. Loren, Neasa, Mr. Kramp, and I were going to pay some of Sharpe's men a wee visit in a jail cell and make sure they don't come back to Hope anytime soon," Meris answered with a playful smirk. "Given Archibald's history with Phineas Sharpe, something tells me that you wouldn't want to avoid giving them a scare, eh? Not to mention, they were responsible for an attack on the Countess, the Lord, and Mayhew recently. So all the more reason to get them to shove off."
***
The selkie had felt like their personal situation had been coming to some sort of resolution after months of dancing around each other, and even then, his kiss had surprised her. Albeit, it was quite welcome. It told her where he stood, along with his words. The relative chasteness had left her wanting more, but she understood that Bucky had shown a great deal of courage to open up about how he felt for her while not wanting to presume too much.
Neasa gently cupped the sides of his face and smiled. "I absolutely want to keep doing those things with you, Bucky, and I'm going to fight my hardest to ensure that we do. You're a bruiser, too, but your touch can be so considerate. I love your laidback zeal for life and your warmth. You make me laugh and want to spend even more time with you," she acknowledged.
To dismiss any lingering self-doubt he might have still had, her hands left his face only to have her arms wrap around his neck and pull him close. She wasn't near as shy with the returning liplock as he had been, and he'd able to get a full taste of her mouth. Her lips were soft but questing, displaying her own earnest passion.
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IamLEAM1983
- Site Admin
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- Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
- Location: Quebec, Canada
Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
"Meris?" asked Lucian, looking as though he wasn't so much as looking at Aspasia as he was diving through vivid memories. "Yes, the Augur's new concubine, of course," he nodded to himself, then sighing wistfully. "By Jupiter, Astra; Alice would've loved her, to be sure."
Astra's pallid features were taut. "I hope to God there's a few nurses on call in Sophia's galleries," she said, as she guided the Void Weaver outside and helped him with his Flesh Mask. "I can't take much more after this..."
They then grouped up in the brownstone's driveway, Silas pulling out Admiral's hip bone and tossing it forward with a bit of added arcane exertion. The bone spun in mid air and suspended itself where a corresponding hip bone would have waited, blue-white light then diffracting off of it in the shape of another identical bone. It took a little longer than usual, but Admiral's skeleton was reconstituted bone by bone - and twice. Ethereal flesh wreathed and wrapped itself around the semisolid arcane matter of the bony structures, two lich-like horses lightly nickering and stamping their hooves in impatience, once the process was ended. The only difference was that one had Silas' old saddle and stirrups and the other one's back was bare.
"I'll take the bare one," advised Coach. "Lucian's going to have an easier time handling the front end of the saddle. Asp, would you mind sitting behind him? You could hold the lead and steer. I'll do the same with Astra on my end of things."
A short hop and a practiced hip swing were all the coach guard needed to climb aboard the naked Admiral's back, and he extended a hand to Astra. "Here," he said. "Put your weight in there, count to three, and swing your right leg up as high as you can - you won't kick me by mistake. While your leg's up, hop off of your left leg. I'll guide you up, don't worry."
Astra looked back to Lucian, surprised to see him give the saddle-wearing Admiral an obliviously chipper scoff, only for him to mostly manage to climb aboard on his own. Horseback riding hadn't yet been maligned by the Dead Gods' debilitating curse, apparently. Either he hadn't forgotten or his muscle memory was up to par.
* * *
Cameron nodded. "Mom told me about Meris, or at least what she remembered. She was in a lot of pain at the time; now all that's left is one or two light chemo rounds. We're not religious in the family, but she still called her a miracle worker."
Amazo nodded. "On that note, folks, I'd like you to stay focused on what's to come. Do this right, follow Sophia's lead and my instructions, and you'll pull out of this as the town's new heroes."
In the back, a bit of clamor sounded as some people were jostled aside and complained. Someone with a fairly large presence was pushing through, getting to Sophia and the others.
From between the two columns emerged Wallace Doherty, wearing a felt overcoat and a scarf over his usual gray two-piece. His fedora was a bit askew, his jowls round and his beady eyes wide with barely-contained outrage.
"What is this, Sophia?!" the mayor asked, his voice reduced to the kind of light and blanching tone that usually preceded one of his usual hollering salvos. "Galleries under the park just before Christmastime - and without a permit?! You've nicked two steam pipes already, or so the engineers tell me, and you didn't so much as attempt to follow procedure?! We're mere hours before Christmas and now there's gridlock between here and Crenshaw! With all possible respect - what's wrong with you?!"
He hadn't exactly shouted, but had still raised his tone. "I've allowed quite a few seasonal fancies and unscheduled upkeep rounds over the years, but this takes the cake!"
The walrus spotted Ciaran, his eyes almost turning to the size of teacup saucers. "And Shield's in on this too? Jesus Christ, do I really have to prod Holden for an explanation hours away from the City Council's holiday recess?! I already had Renton and Old Hope asking for an investigation into the Hall's expenditures - now I'll have to field a witch hunt, for sure - and I'm not about to let your boss saunter away into Wyvern or Goliath's outstretched corporate arms, no sir!"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Wallace," he said, bowing lightly in a mock greeting, "I see you still haven't gone for your anxiety-quelling pastrami-mayo double decker... Where'd you stash your duplicitous Yes-man, for once? Did he fail today's KFC runs?"
As before, Wallace proved why he managed to run the city as a mundane despite its supernatural contingent. The look he gave the vampire would've been more suited to an ages-old vampire about to tear a younger colleague apart in a single gesture than to an anthro whose only quirk was a species-guaranteed shot of healthy avoidupois.
"Can it, Holden! I've got people trapped in their cars, up here, and others who can't go to or leave downtown because the main avenues are clogged down! There's a forecast of heavy snowfall, civilians who can't reach their homes, and to top it off, there's fucking Hell portals forming in my streets!"
Amazo blinked, which prompted Doherty to sneer. "Oh, so you thought I wouldn't catch on? I might not have the heyday's heroes or today's newfangled vigilantes on my speed dial, but I've got academics!"
He sighed, his arms coming in supplication as he looked back to Sophia. "Count me in, at least, next time! I can't do my job if you unilaterally start digging trenches into taxpayers' property!"
Grimley snickered. "Weren't you the one telling people not to worry, to actually head out shopping? I know I'm mad, but good golly - that's quite a wad of cognitive dissonance!"
Doherty produced a bull-like snort. "Oh, of course. I'll just saunter back out, tell people to start panicking. I'll fuel the flames of a handful of already-precarious and influencing groups around town and then sit there and watch while the Christmas tree up top catches fire, storefront windows get smashed in and the least-evolved members of our contingent give in to their baser instincts and start murdering their way to safety. I'll just - go ahead and do that, won't I? If I'd had time to prepare and call the National Guard in, I'd be right in lock-step with you folks!"
Claudia opted to edge in. "So did you do it? Call the National Guard, I mean," she asked.
Wallace rolled his bulbous eyes. "No, I called the Thunderbirds; Scott Tracy and Tin-Tin are on their way - of course I called them! I got laughed at, then put them on the phone with Fathers Curran and Parsons. Rhode Island's regional command sobered up right quick. Those few events we can't postpone or reschedule are going to take place under increased scrutiny. If Archibald Holden and his kids have anything to say about guys in drab camo holding maglev rifles in a courthouse, I'll tell them to choke on it!"
* * *
"I would tend to concur," noted the batman, hands coming up from behind his back as he fixed his cufflinks. "I assume the plan calls for fisticuffs...
- Or a decent round of intimidation," noted Mentalor. "We only need of Sharpe that he wait his turn."
The Krampus then came back down the main stairs, now dressed in his usual Yuletide-themed tie-and-tails, whips coiled at his waist. "Awright, bangers," he said, rubbing his hands together in relish, "let's get bangin'. Brainy Dude gets to airlift us off; we're headed for Sandhill. I know a spot that's a close match for the stockade where the fuckheads are stashed; we won't have to trek across Evergloam and back."
For once, the Karthian looked like had no objections to Krampus' statements. "I haven't sensed a fear of heights in anyone here, so..."
* * *
Being so earnestly welcomed seemed to trigger something in Bucky. His entire frame rattling with pent-up affection, he let Neasa guide him down with a moan and a shudder. His mind wasn't so much consumed by lust as it was for a need to consume that affection, to hug the roane in a way that wouldn't require some sort of height-related compensation. The easiest way was for them to lie down. He didn't have too much trouble turning Neasa's momentum into some of his own, gently pulling the roane down as he kissed her. Something in the sounds that escaped him spoke of vulnerability and selflessness, Neasa soon finding herself lying atop him - high enough for liplocks to be easy to maintain and much too high up on his belly's curve for eroticism to be immediately inferred. Knowing he'd been freely invited, his ghostly tongue carefully danced with the selkie's, timing its caresses with her breath. White puffs of smoke escaped his helmet's stacks at the sort of speed you would've associated to a train going at its top speed, while a few big fingers worked Neasa's hair and lightly teased the necklines of her winter clothes.
After five or six breaths and as many liplocks, Shamus' arms enveloped the roane's chest and midsection, like a blanket of steel and fabric made somehow comfortable. He rocked slightly from side to side, the light snowy covering crunching underneath him. He very quietly alternated between gratitude-filled chuckles and a few disbelieving and tearful sobs, his own warmth now easily dispelling the seasonal chill.
"Eddie," he whispered, "Auntie Ed... You were right. I'd stopped believing, I almost thought they'd been right - but you beat 'em to it. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
Clearly embarrassed, he snorted nonexistent phlegm, wiped a nose that couldn't run and weakly chuckled. "It's my dad," he explained, "guy was dumber than a groundhog with glasses - he thought I wouldn't find anyone. Got Momma to think I'd be stuck the same, too. The token big oaf, the huckster - too smart for Oklahoma, too dumb for the britches I wanted to fill. My mom's sis said I wasn't dumb - she said I had what she'd called Slow Smarts. Mind like a pressure cooker, she'd say."
Another sniff. "Decades spent conning, doing things I hated so I'd survive or maybe buy a book or two a month, misusin' those smarts - then I ran into the wrong Micks an' got myself shot. Gorobei Iwata saved me, but I ended up spendin' two hundred years playin' dumb to Archie's Lightning Rod Smarts. Things get tough, he digs deep, maybe drinks or plays the violin - then he looks up at you like there's a thunderstorm's worth o' genius in there. God, I wish I had that, sometimes... Nobody I'd worked with before your family treated me like I was dumb, but I've been stuck as Hope's Big Friendly Doofus for longer than you've been alive, Ness. My mascot likeness adds a couple durs or uuhs to some one-liners, when the Warlocks get half-time..."
He shook his head, one hand coming up to cover his eyes. "I thought I'd just end up as someone else's Zen koan, the local steam-powered Buddha, some kinda mildly-reverent joke in overdone armor... You think it doesn't get to you - and maybe it doesn't for decades - and then you find someone and..."
Removing his hand, he looked at Neasa. "Goddamnit, girl - I thought I was at peace. I thought I'd showed Iwata! You sure showed me, instead," he said, scoffing in self-deprecation. "Look at me, all rattling an' sobbin' like a kid..."
The samurai then opted to lightly stroke her chin with one massive finger, as good humor slowly returned to his features. "I know you're a smart cookie an' I hope I'm not half-bad either... Y'want us to be smart cookies together? All we're missing's a glass o' milk."
Astra's pallid features were taut. "I hope to God there's a few nurses on call in Sophia's galleries," she said, as she guided the Void Weaver outside and helped him with his Flesh Mask. "I can't take much more after this..."
They then grouped up in the brownstone's driveway, Silas pulling out Admiral's hip bone and tossing it forward with a bit of added arcane exertion. The bone spun in mid air and suspended itself where a corresponding hip bone would have waited, blue-white light then diffracting off of it in the shape of another identical bone. It took a little longer than usual, but Admiral's skeleton was reconstituted bone by bone - and twice. Ethereal flesh wreathed and wrapped itself around the semisolid arcane matter of the bony structures, two lich-like horses lightly nickering and stamping their hooves in impatience, once the process was ended. The only difference was that one had Silas' old saddle and stirrups and the other one's back was bare.
"I'll take the bare one," advised Coach. "Lucian's going to have an easier time handling the front end of the saddle. Asp, would you mind sitting behind him? You could hold the lead and steer. I'll do the same with Astra on my end of things."
A short hop and a practiced hip swing were all the coach guard needed to climb aboard the naked Admiral's back, and he extended a hand to Astra. "Here," he said. "Put your weight in there, count to three, and swing your right leg up as high as you can - you won't kick me by mistake. While your leg's up, hop off of your left leg. I'll guide you up, don't worry."
Astra looked back to Lucian, surprised to see him give the saddle-wearing Admiral an obliviously chipper scoff, only for him to mostly manage to climb aboard on his own. Horseback riding hadn't yet been maligned by the Dead Gods' debilitating curse, apparently. Either he hadn't forgotten or his muscle memory was up to par.
* * *
Cameron nodded. "Mom told me about Meris, or at least what she remembered. She was in a lot of pain at the time; now all that's left is one or two light chemo rounds. We're not religious in the family, but she still called her a miracle worker."
Amazo nodded. "On that note, folks, I'd like you to stay focused on what's to come. Do this right, follow Sophia's lead and my instructions, and you'll pull out of this as the town's new heroes."
In the back, a bit of clamor sounded as some people were jostled aside and complained. Someone with a fairly large presence was pushing through, getting to Sophia and the others.
From between the two columns emerged Wallace Doherty, wearing a felt overcoat and a scarf over his usual gray two-piece. His fedora was a bit askew, his jowls round and his beady eyes wide with barely-contained outrage.
"What is this, Sophia?!" the mayor asked, his voice reduced to the kind of light and blanching tone that usually preceded one of his usual hollering salvos. "Galleries under the park just before Christmastime - and without a permit?! You've nicked two steam pipes already, or so the engineers tell me, and you didn't so much as attempt to follow procedure?! We're mere hours before Christmas and now there's gridlock between here and Crenshaw! With all possible respect - what's wrong with you?!"
He hadn't exactly shouted, but had still raised his tone. "I've allowed quite a few seasonal fancies and unscheduled upkeep rounds over the years, but this takes the cake!"
The walrus spotted Ciaran, his eyes almost turning to the size of teacup saucers. "And Shield's in on this too? Jesus Christ, do I really have to prod Holden for an explanation hours away from the City Council's holiday recess?! I already had Renton and Old Hope asking for an investigation into the Hall's expenditures - now I'll have to field a witch hunt, for sure - and I'm not about to let your boss saunter away into Wyvern or Goliath's outstretched corporate arms, no sir!"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Wallace," he said, bowing lightly in a mock greeting, "I see you still haven't gone for your anxiety-quelling pastrami-mayo double decker... Where'd you stash your duplicitous Yes-man, for once? Did he fail today's KFC runs?"
As before, Wallace proved why he managed to run the city as a mundane despite its supernatural contingent. The look he gave the vampire would've been more suited to an ages-old vampire about to tear a younger colleague apart in a single gesture than to an anthro whose only quirk was a species-guaranteed shot of healthy avoidupois.
"Can it, Holden! I've got people trapped in their cars, up here, and others who can't go to or leave downtown because the main avenues are clogged down! There's a forecast of heavy snowfall, civilians who can't reach their homes, and to top it off, there's fucking Hell portals forming in my streets!"
Amazo blinked, which prompted Doherty to sneer. "Oh, so you thought I wouldn't catch on? I might not have the heyday's heroes or today's newfangled vigilantes on my speed dial, but I've got academics!"
He sighed, his arms coming in supplication as he looked back to Sophia. "Count me in, at least, next time! I can't do my job if you unilaterally start digging trenches into taxpayers' property!"
Grimley snickered. "Weren't you the one telling people not to worry, to actually head out shopping? I know I'm mad, but good golly - that's quite a wad of cognitive dissonance!"
Doherty produced a bull-like snort. "Oh, of course. I'll just saunter back out, tell people to start panicking. I'll fuel the flames of a handful of already-precarious and influencing groups around town and then sit there and watch while the Christmas tree up top catches fire, storefront windows get smashed in and the least-evolved members of our contingent give in to their baser instincts and start murdering their way to safety. I'll just - go ahead and do that, won't I? If I'd had time to prepare and call the National Guard in, I'd be right in lock-step with you folks!"
Claudia opted to edge in. "So did you do it? Call the National Guard, I mean," she asked.
Wallace rolled his bulbous eyes. "No, I called the Thunderbirds; Scott Tracy and Tin-Tin are on their way - of course I called them! I got laughed at, then put them on the phone with Fathers Curran and Parsons. Rhode Island's regional command sobered up right quick. Those few events we can't postpone or reschedule are going to take place under increased scrutiny. If Archibald Holden and his kids have anything to say about guys in drab camo holding maglev rifles in a courthouse, I'll tell them to choke on it!"
* * *
"I would tend to concur," noted the batman, hands coming up from behind his back as he fixed his cufflinks. "I assume the plan calls for fisticuffs...
- Or a decent round of intimidation," noted Mentalor. "We only need of Sharpe that he wait his turn."
The Krampus then came back down the main stairs, now dressed in his usual Yuletide-themed tie-and-tails, whips coiled at his waist. "Awright, bangers," he said, rubbing his hands together in relish, "let's get bangin'. Brainy Dude gets to airlift us off; we're headed for Sandhill. I know a spot that's a close match for the stockade where the fuckheads are stashed; we won't have to trek across Evergloam and back."
For once, the Karthian looked like had no objections to Krampus' statements. "I haven't sensed a fear of heights in anyone here, so..."
* * *
Being so earnestly welcomed seemed to trigger something in Bucky. His entire frame rattling with pent-up affection, he let Neasa guide him down with a moan and a shudder. His mind wasn't so much consumed by lust as it was for a need to consume that affection, to hug the roane in a way that wouldn't require some sort of height-related compensation. The easiest way was for them to lie down. He didn't have too much trouble turning Neasa's momentum into some of his own, gently pulling the roane down as he kissed her. Something in the sounds that escaped him spoke of vulnerability and selflessness, Neasa soon finding herself lying atop him - high enough for liplocks to be easy to maintain and much too high up on his belly's curve for eroticism to be immediately inferred. Knowing he'd been freely invited, his ghostly tongue carefully danced with the selkie's, timing its caresses with her breath. White puffs of smoke escaped his helmet's stacks at the sort of speed you would've associated to a train going at its top speed, while a few big fingers worked Neasa's hair and lightly teased the necklines of her winter clothes.
After five or six breaths and as many liplocks, Shamus' arms enveloped the roane's chest and midsection, like a blanket of steel and fabric made somehow comfortable. He rocked slightly from side to side, the light snowy covering crunching underneath him. He very quietly alternated between gratitude-filled chuckles and a few disbelieving and tearful sobs, his own warmth now easily dispelling the seasonal chill.
"Eddie," he whispered, "Auntie Ed... You were right. I'd stopped believing, I almost thought they'd been right - but you beat 'em to it. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
Clearly embarrassed, he snorted nonexistent phlegm, wiped a nose that couldn't run and weakly chuckled. "It's my dad," he explained, "guy was dumber than a groundhog with glasses - he thought I wouldn't find anyone. Got Momma to think I'd be stuck the same, too. The token big oaf, the huckster - too smart for Oklahoma, too dumb for the britches I wanted to fill. My mom's sis said I wasn't dumb - she said I had what she'd called Slow Smarts. Mind like a pressure cooker, she'd say."
Another sniff. "Decades spent conning, doing things I hated so I'd survive or maybe buy a book or two a month, misusin' those smarts - then I ran into the wrong Micks an' got myself shot. Gorobei Iwata saved me, but I ended up spendin' two hundred years playin' dumb to Archie's Lightning Rod Smarts. Things get tough, he digs deep, maybe drinks or plays the violin - then he looks up at you like there's a thunderstorm's worth o' genius in there. God, I wish I had that, sometimes... Nobody I'd worked with before your family treated me like I was dumb, but I've been stuck as Hope's Big Friendly Doofus for longer than you've been alive, Ness. My mascot likeness adds a couple durs or uuhs to some one-liners, when the Warlocks get half-time..."
He shook his head, one hand coming up to cover his eyes. "I thought I'd just end up as someone else's Zen koan, the local steam-powered Buddha, some kinda mildly-reverent joke in overdone armor... You think it doesn't get to you - and maybe it doesn't for decades - and then you find someone and..."
Removing his hand, he looked at Neasa. "Goddamnit, girl - I thought I was at peace. I thought I'd showed Iwata! You sure showed me, instead," he said, scoffing in self-deprecation. "Look at me, all rattling an' sobbin' like a kid..."
The samurai then opted to lightly stroke her chin with one massive finger, as good humor slowly returned to his features. "I know you're a smart cookie an' I hope I'm not half-bad either... Y'want us to be smart cookies together? All we're missing's a glass o' milk."
-
TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Thankful to see the sight of Lucian in the saddle on his own, Aspasia sighed with some relief and pulled herself up onto the spectral horse and behind the Void Weaver. She gripped the lead and gently but indicatively prodded the horse's flanks with her legs. "Come on, Admiral, we're headed to the park," she urged him with a clicking of her tongue.
***
Sophia eyed the walrus coolly and sighed. "I would've consulted your office for a permit, but I know how bureaucratic red tape can be; it would have moved far too slowly that would've delayed the construction of the tunnels in time for the purpose they were built for, Mayor Doherty," she explained, remaining surprisingly calm despite his ire. "There's a conflict coming that'll outdo MacHae's treachery and potentially cost even more lives-I don't want that. You might not like my methods, but I'm doing what I was planted for: to protect Hope's citizenry."
Ciaran refrained from rolling his eyes in the hothead's direction and narrowed his eyes. "I'm a member of Shield, yes, but I'm just doing the right thing for her. Once I heard about Sophia's project, I offered to help her and told the rest of the team I'd be here for the duration of the tunnel-making," he explained, then looking back to the dryad.
"They might be needed, actually. However, as things are, even with their presence, the main demon behind this infernal invasion isn't going to do anything that would rob him of his chosen body," she added. "So the best thing that the National Guard can do is get people to a safe zone, or have them come down here. The Countess is also aware of the approaching upheaval and has the Greenvale on standby."
***
Upon realizing Neasa had vanished along with Bucky, Meris figured it was best to leave them be and have Bagley take her place. "Whenever you're ready, Dr. Loren," she agreed, then looking back to the batman.
***
"I'd like that combo a lot," Neasa replied with a chuckle, playfully placing a final kiss on the tip of his tengu nose. "I'm glad that I was able to help you prove the naysayers wrong, Bucky. You deserve more credit than you get sometimes. You greatly matter to me; you matter to others, too."
"It's okay to be be vulnerable sometimes. I'd rather you be like this than some pent-up, overly macho asshole. The world has enough of those," she mused, resting her head against his man boobs. "You have your gifts just like everybody else; the wrapping paper and contents are just somewhat different."
***
Sophia eyed the walrus coolly and sighed. "I would've consulted your office for a permit, but I know how bureaucratic red tape can be; it would have moved far too slowly that would've delayed the construction of the tunnels in time for the purpose they were built for, Mayor Doherty," she explained, remaining surprisingly calm despite his ire. "There's a conflict coming that'll outdo MacHae's treachery and potentially cost even more lives-I don't want that. You might not like my methods, but I'm doing what I was planted for: to protect Hope's citizenry."
Ciaran refrained from rolling his eyes in the hothead's direction and narrowed his eyes. "I'm a member of Shield, yes, but I'm just doing the right thing for her. Once I heard about Sophia's project, I offered to help her and told the rest of the team I'd be here for the duration of the tunnel-making," he explained, then looking back to the dryad.
"They might be needed, actually. However, as things are, even with their presence, the main demon behind this infernal invasion isn't going to do anything that would rob him of his chosen body," she added. "So the best thing that the National Guard can do is get people to a safe zone, or have them come down here. The Countess is also aware of the approaching upheaval and has the Greenvale on standby."
***
Upon realizing Neasa had vanished along with Bucky, Meris figured it was best to leave them be and have Bagley take her place. "Whenever you're ready, Dr. Loren," she agreed, then looking back to the batman.
***
"I'd like that combo a lot," Neasa replied with a chuckle, playfully placing a final kiss on the tip of his tengu nose. "I'm glad that I was able to help you prove the naysayers wrong, Bucky. You deserve more credit than you get sometimes. You greatly matter to me; you matter to others, too."
"It's okay to be be vulnerable sometimes. I'd rather you be like this than some pent-up, overly macho asshole. The world has enough of those," she mused, resting her head against his man boobs. "You have your gifts just like everybody else; the wrapping paper and contents are just somewhat different."
-
IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
The pair of horses rode a ways through Old Hope, before coming at a complete stop in front of an intersection that had been completely clogged with abandoned vehicles erratically parked around glowing cracks in the asphalt. Admiral and its copy nickered and whinnied as their riders looked on. A group of slightly bedraggled-looking civilians was producing a series of odd grunts while clustering around cars and storefronts, one of them having ripped a tree branch off of its support to force his way past a storefront's window. Alarms blared in response, the group almost pouring in as a single mass.
"Oh, no," breathed Coach. "They're possessed..."
Below them, a low, rumbling noise rose from the depths of the earth, the glowing cracks slowly widening. Some sort of planar pressure seal gave way, a series of loud bangs and the howl of air being forced through then sounding, following by a few sibilant whines. Out of the cracks quested what looked like gnarled human fingertips, a single yellow eye darting to and fro before settling on the group.
"Pride's scouts," immediately deduced the lich. He clacked his lead and whistled sharply, Admiral and its clone leaping upwards and rising into the air. A few seconds later, both ethereal beasts settled in a full gallop a solid six hundred feet above ground, their hooves striking the glittering and largely invisible plane of a suspended ley line.
By now, Silas aiming at her wouldn't be cause for concern for Aspasia. His guns might have been arcane foci, he used their barrels and muzzles to channel as much healing or support as he did destructive power. He's thrown Admiral into a forward sprint and then craned backwards, his shot sounding not with a bang, but with the kind of electrical pop you would've expected of an old cathode ray TV being turned on. The light bullet he'd discharged stopped a ways away from the fauness' face, expanding into a sort of hologram of Silas' own features.
"We're pulling ahead - I don't like what I'm sensing in the air! The first major portals have started to form - Lucian needs to reach safety yesterday!" said the hologram.
The projection looked eerily focused for a few moments, face angled downwards and eyes pointed forwards, matching the fact that the distance between them was growing. Something then made him straighten up.
"Hell's bells," he swore, "I think Pride planned for us! There's a negatively-charged nodule in the air, about a klick away from Centennial Park - and it's spreading! It's encircling the park and we'll clip through it no matter if we land or keep flying! The last time I saw something like this, Zebediah had flesh on his bones!"
Concern briefly lined the skeleton's features, before grim resolve settled in. "I say we push on - but at a low altitude. I don't want any of us to dwell in there for too long, especially not Lucian! If the horses get lamed, I can at least make it so we won't break our necks!"
* * *
Doherty reached up for his fedora in what looked like dismay, before turning into a picture of barely-repressed anger, his hand bunching the hat up. "Right, of course - how silly of me! Three shelters, for ten million citizens!" he said, laughing in overt sarcasm, before he took a step forward and extended his arms to either side. Covering as much space as he could, there wasn't much left of the tunnel's width. "Ten million civilians with a roomy panic room, two English manors, one five-star hotel-
- And three dozen other locations across the country, accessible through shadows!" piped Horatio, who looked particularly chipper. Doherty's response was to turn dulcet and to grasp Grimley's shoulders.
"Of course. All of the above, plus a wide smattering of cross-country pockmarks. Where did you say these other locations could be reached from, good sir?"
Horatio gestured around. "Through these shadows, of course!
- I see," noted Doherty. "Shadows, in an already-crowded and narrow system of galleries that might actually be worth their salt for all I know - but that might endanger anyone trying to get to them, or anyone unfortunate enough to not be in them!" he said, his voice rising to another signature holler, his hands reaching to grasp and shake a seemingly mightily amused vampire Squid.
Doherty turned and faced Sophia again. "Two years, I've spent trying to get a fix on Shield's situation! Two years, and not to judge them - I want quagmires like this to never happen in the first place! All because of Archibald Aloysius Holden and his stupid Victorian and paternalistic approach - as though the City Council couldn't possibly be expected to wrap their heads around Hell invading or demons or Warlocks from the Orcades or the idea that a goddamned Hellspawn is riding around in Thomas Quint's corpse! I'm not Queen Victoria, I can't just close my eyes on every single process and just assume things'll pan out! Oh, he discloses everything to Central as per request - but he acts like Lowell has the power of ubiquity! She delegates as much as she can, but it's clogging the entire system!"
He sighed, managed something that was half a sigh and half a rage-expelling snort, and rested his hand on his belly as though Sophia could've plopped a cafeteria down here. "God, I'm hungry!" he said loudly, to nobody in particular. Knowing him, he probably was. While not exactly on Bucky's level, Wallace was true to his genome in that he had trouble feeling satiated off of common meals. Something worthy of an Arctic penniped was more his speed, or at least its tamer mundane equivalent. Frustration tended to exacerbate a common problem. What would've given a human a speedy introduction to diabetes or a coronary was tame junk food in his particular case.
Still grinning, Grimley reached into a patch of darkness with a verbal "Yoink!" and pulled out a prepackaged danish and a paper cup's worth of coffee, the mixture not looking terribly inspiring. Despite that, Doherty almost snatched them from the Squid's hands and found a stone to sit on. Half of the danish was gone in a single voracious bite, but he then froze and glared at Grimley. The coffee elicited a grimace from the already cartoonish anthro, but soon delivered its payload of warmth and comfort. A few seconds in, he had precious little to complain about.
"Well?! I can't possibly be alone in here - this is the holiday season, people are practically running on empty calories as it is! Feed them, for God's sake!"
A clamor then rose, starting with peckish kids and ending with the bunker's newest residents finding the stash of non-perishables and single-serve items the vampires had assembled, and loudly proclaiming its existence.
* * *
The Archmage, Fae, alien and android headed outside, Bagley having grabbed his felt coat, scarf and bowler hat. Owing to his slightly exaggerated V-shaped frame and his absence of a neck, the signature British headdress looked a little proportionately small, compared to his chest. Not that he particularly looked like he cared. Neither did he panic as an unseen force grasped his waist and lifted him bodily, the others sensing the same thing. As they gained altitude, however, the spreading blight of the Hell rifts became clearly visible, along with the distant and glowing specks of Aspasia and Coach's mounts. As for the Krampus, he'd taken to sitting down inside Loren's expressed ring of telekinetic support as if it were a pool tire, feet and limbs dangling loosely.
"Our enemies are massing," noted the butler, rising his voice over the wind and one hand to his bowler. "The trial ending should be a formality by now - and a clarion call...
- How's Worm-Head doin', anyway?" then asked the Christmas Devil, hand on his top hat's brim. "He's the only one with Ephesian right now, and our buddy's shot at Prime Time is in a little over eight hours!"
Bagley shrugged as they were being carried away. "I scarcely could speak to mister Wormsworth at all; my understanding is that the Goat is too busy mustering his forces to bother with attempting to bring out the lawyer's treasonous roots. Angel Time might have helped as well, along with the war conference: Herbert was introduced to a new form of expression of his carried Vice!"
Krampus scoffed. "Man, if my ego worked like that, I'd have my own island nation and an army of badass Winter motherfuckers!
- You find me thankful it isn't the case, then!" added Bagley.
Some time passed, before Krampus chose to turn his boredom onto Loren's admittedly slightly showy pose as he "carried" the group, with billowing metallic cape and hands turned upwards and raised at shoulder-level, looking like a self-serious Googie Raygun orchestra conductor.
"Look at this guy," snorted the Fae, "he reminds me of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon where the rabbit has a feud with an Opera tenor!"
Krampus then feigned shock, added a thick German accent and pointed at Mentalor, exclaiming "Leopold!" in reference to the conductor the wiseacre rabbit had impersonated.
"Yes," groused the alien, "and Leopold's going to drop you three miles off the mark and leave you to splatter on a rooftop somewhere if you don't cease your jabbering! Then you'll miss on all the fun!"
Loren had looked like considering the idea of giving rambunctious Fae an object lesson as being fun was some sort of personal offense.
"You don't think much of me, do ya?" rhetorically asked Kramp, clearly relishing the Karthian's contempt.
"I think little of most people as a rule," sighed the alien. "Your minds are too busy, on average. Mister Bagley and Mrs. McConmara are of a rare breed, considering."
That made the Fae give an odd look to the other two. The cluster banked to the right and approached the Hillard's 3rd Avenue Bridge, which would lead to Sandhill.
"What is it the young Earthlings used to say, a few decades back?" rhetorically asked the alien. "Oh, right - sick burn."
* * *
A few big fingers lightly tapped the back of one of her hands. "I know," replied Shamus, tossing his head in vague annoyance, "I just sometimes wish I'd gone nuts with extra Clank shells, sometimes. With today's tech, I bet I could maybe get a human-sized one. Real squishy, too. Huggable. It ain't - y'know - body dysmorphia or anything, but Archie's job gave him tons of options. Plus, a little efficiency'd do me some good, right? I mean, how long am I gonna have to keep cleaning out fridges at about three per week? This thing's needs are makin' it so I can't just enjoy food, and believe me, I'm a majorly frustrated foodie."
He grinned. "I tried makin' cornbread, last summer, remember? I wanted to cut it up and share it with everyone, but I reached the point where I had the knife in my hand and the Tupperwares laid out - and I just gave in. Iwata's stomach says I gotta be full, it says I hafta eat - and that just spoils everything."
Then came a sigh. "When I'm done, though... Sweet Mother Mary, that feels good. Satiation times a thousand. That idiot samurai foisted his addiction onto me, and I can't do squat about it. At this point, I'm not sure that I'm not addicted to it, either."
"Oh, no," breathed Coach. "They're possessed..."
Below them, a low, rumbling noise rose from the depths of the earth, the glowing cracks slowly widening. Some sort of planar pressure seal gave way, a series of loud bangs and the howl of air being forced through then sounding, following by a few sibilant whines. Out of the cracks quested what looked like gnarled human fingertips, a single yellow eye darting to and fro before settling on the group.
"Pride's scouts," immediately deduced the lich. He clacked his lead and whistled sharply, Admiral and its clone leaping upwards and rising into the air. A few seconds later, both ethereal beasts settled in a full gallop a solid six hundred feet above ground, their hooves striking the glittering and largely invisible plane of a suspended ley line.
By now, Silas aiming at her wouldn't be cause for concern for Aspasia. His guns might have been arcane foci, he used their barrels and muzzles to channel as much healing or support as he did destructive power. He's thrown Admiral into a forward sprint and then craned backwards, his shot sounding not with a bang, but with the kind of electrical pop you would've expected of an old cathode ray TV being turned on. The light bullet he'd discharged stopped a ways away from the fauness' face, expanding into a sort of hologram of Silas' own features.
"We're pulling ahead - I don't like what I'm sensing in the air! The first major portals have started to form - Lucian needs to reach safety yesterday!" said the hologram.
The projection looked eerily focused for a few moments, face angled downwards and eyes pointed forwards, matching the fact that the distance between them was growing. Something then made him straighten up.
"Hell's bells," he swore, "I think Pride planned for us! There's a negatively-charged nodule in the air, about a klick away from Centennial Park - and it's spreading! It's encircling the park and we'll clip through it no matter if we land or keep flying! The last time I saw something like this, Zebediah had flesh on his bones!"
Concern briefly lined the skeleton's features, before grim resolve settled in. "I say we push on - but at a low altitude. I don't want any of us to dwell in there for too long, especially not Lucian! If the horses get lamed, I can at least make it so we won't break our necks!"
* * *
Doherty reached up for his fedora in what looked like dismay, before turning into a picture of barely-repressed anger, his hand bunching the hat up. "Right, of course - how silly of me! Three shelters, for ten million citizens!" he said, laughing in overt sarcasm, before he took a step forward and extended his arms to either side. Covering as much space as he could, there wasn't much left of the tunnel's width. "Ten million civilians with a roomy panic room, two English manors, one five-star hotel-
- And three dozen other locations across the country, accessible through shadows!" piped Horatio, who looked particularly chipper. Doherty's response was to turn dulcet and to grasp Grimley's shoulders.
"Of course. All of the above, plus a wide smattering of cross-country pockmarks. Where did you say these other locations could be reached from, good sir?"
Horatio gestured around. "Through these shadows, of course!
- I see," noted Doherty. "Shadows, in an already-crowded and narrow system of galleries that might actually be worth their salt for all I know - but that might endanger anyone trying to get to them, or anyone unfortunate enough to not be in them!" he said, his voice rising to another signature holler, his hands reaching to grasp and shake a seemingly mightily amused vampire Squid.
Doherty turned and faced Sophia again. "Two years, I've spent trying to get a fix on Shield's situation! Two years, and not to judge them - I want quagmires like this to never happen in the first place! All because of Archibald Aloysius Holden and his stupid Victorian and paternalistic approach - as though the City Council couldn't possibly be expected to wrap their heads around Hell invading or demons or Warlocks from the Orcades or the idea that a goddamned Hellspawn is riding around in Thomas Quint's corpse! I'm not Queen Victoria, I can't just close my eyes on every single process and just assume things'll pan out! Oh, he discloses everything to Central as per request - but he acts like Lowell has the power of ubiquity! She delegates as much as she can, but it's clogging the entire system!"
He sighed, managed something that was half a sigh and half a rage-expelling snort, and rested his hand on his belly as though Sophia could've plopped a cafeteria down here. "God, I'm hungry!" he said loudly, to nobody in particular. Knowing him, he probably was. While not exactly on Bucky's level, Wallace was true to his genome in that he had trouble feeling satiated off of common meals. Something worthy of an Arctic penniped was more his speed, or at least its tamer mundane equivalent. Frustration tended to exacerbate a common problem. What would've given a human a speedy introduction to diabetes or a coronary was tame junk food in his particular case.
Still grinning, Grimley reached into a patch of darkness with a verbal "Yoink!" and pulled out a prepackaged danish and a paper cup's worth of coffee, the mixture not looking terribly inspiring. Despite that, Doherty almost snatched them from the Squid's hands and found a stone to sit on. Half of the danish was gone in a single voracious bite, but he then froze and glared at Grimley. The coffee elicited a grimace from the already cartoonish anthro, but soon delivered its payload of warmth and comfort. A few seconds in, he had precious little to complain about.
"Well?! I can't possibly be alone in here - this is the holiday season, people are practically running on empty calories as it is! Feed them, for God's sake!"
A clamor then rose, starting with peckish kids and ending with the bunker's newest residents finding the stash of non-perishables and single-serve items the vampires had assembled, and loudly proclaiming its existence.
* * *
The Archmage, Fae, alien and android headed outside, Bagley having grabbed his felt coat, scarf and bowler hat. Owing to his slightly exaggerated V-shaped frame and his absence of a neck, the signature British headdress looked a little proportionately small, compared to his chest. Not that he particularly looked like he cared. Neither did he panic as an unseen force grasped his waist and lifted him bodily, the others sensing the same thing. As they gained altitude, however, the spreading blight of the Hell rifts became clearly visible, along with the distant and glowing specks of Aspasia and Coach's mounts. As for the Krampus, he'd taken to sitting down inside Loren's expressed ring of telekinetic support as if it were a pool tire, feet and limbs dangling loosely.
"Our enemies are massing," noted the butler, rising his voice over the wind and one hand to his bowler. "The trial ending should be a formality by now - and a clarion call...
- How's Worm-Head doin', anyway?" then asked the Christmas Devil, hand on his top hat's brim. "He's the only one with Ephesian right now, and our buddy's shot at Prime Time is in a little over eight hours!"
Bagley shrugged as they were being carried away. "I scarcely could speak to mister Wormsworth at all; my understanding is that the Goat is too busy mustering his forces to bother with attempting to bring out the lawyer's treasonous roots. Angel Time might have helped as well, along with the war conference: Herbert was introduced to a new form of expression of his carried Vice!"
Krampus scoffed. "Man, if my ego worked like that, I'd have my own island nation and an army of badass Winter motherfuckers!
- You find me thankful it isn't the case, then!" added Bagley.
Some time passed, before Krampus chose to turn his boredom onto Loren's admittedly slightly showy pose as he "carried" the group, with billowing metallic cape and hands turned upwards and raised at shoulder-level, looking like a self-serious Googie Raygun orchestra conductor.
"Look at this guy," snorted the Fae, "he reminds me of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon where the rabbit has a feud with an Opera tenor!"
Krampus then feigned shock, added a thick German accent and pointed at Mentalor, exclaiming "Leopold!" in reference to the conductor the wiseacre rabbit had impersonated.
"Yes," groused the alien, "and Leopold's going to drop you three miles off the mark and leave you to splatter on a rooftop somewhere if you don't cease your jabbering! Then you'll miss on all the fun!"
Loren had looked like considering the idea of giving rambunctious Fae an object lesson as being fun was some sort of personal offense.
"You don't think much of me, do ya?" rhetorically asked Kramp, clearly relishing the Karthian's contempt.
"I think little of most people as a rule," sighed the alien. "Your minds are too busy, on average. Mister Bagley and Mrs. McConmara are of a rare breed, considering."
That made the Fae give an odd look to the other two. The cluster banked to the right and approached the Hillard's 3rd Avenue Bridge, which would lead to Sandhill.
"What is it the young Earthlings used to say, a few decades back?" rhetorically asked the alien. "Oh, right - sick burn."
* * *
A few big fingers lightly tapped the back of one of her hands. "I know," replied Shamus, tossing his head in vague annoyance, "I just sometimes wish I'd gone nuts with extra Clank shells, sometimes. With today's tech, I bet I could maybe get a human-sized one. Real squishy, too. Huggable. It ain't - y'know - body dysmorphia or anything, but Archie's job gave him tons of options. Plus, a little efficiency'd do me some good, right? I mean, how long am I gonna have to keep cleaning out fridges at about three per week? This thing's needs are makin' it so I can't just enjoy food, and believe me, I'm a majorly frustrated foodie."
He grinned. "I tried makin' cornbread, last summer, remember? I wanted to cut it up and share it with everyone, but I reached the point where I had the knife in my hand and the Tupperwares laid out - and I just gave in. Iwata's stomach says I gotta be full, it says I hafta eat - and that just spoils everything."
Then came a sigh. "When I'm done, though... Sweet Mother Mary, that feels good. Satiation times a thousand. That idiot samurai foisted his addiction onto me, and I can't do squat about it. At this point, I'm not sure that I'm not addicted to it, either."
-
TennyoCeres84
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- Posts: 2931
- Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:59 am
Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Peeved at the mayor's behavior, Alana disappeared into one of the galleries to help with getting food for their guests.
Sophia might've chosen to retort something back at Doherty, but her keen arcane senses drew her attention away from the walrus toward the ceiling and surrounding area of the park, shivering uneasily. "I don't like this..." she breathed to Quigley. "Something negative is in the air above us, and it's encircling the park!"
"Damn it, Pride must already be encroaching, even with the trial not being over," Ciaran deduced with a hiss.
***
"Keep pushing on, then! We have to get them to safety," Aspasia urged, pressing the saddled steed on toward a lower altitude. "Is it possible they're using us as a possible trigger for something?" she asked the hologram of her husband. Instinctively, she huddled protectively against the elderly Squid as though she was trying to act as a phyiscal shield.
***
Casting a glance back the way they had come, Meris grimaced and tugged the hem of her scarf closer to her head. "While we have some time, we can't take forever to intimidate Sharpe's men. Pride's getting antsy," she mused, watching as they approached the bridge.
***
Neasa scoffed lightly. "Well, you could ask me to help you with any meals you want to prepare for the others, and I could make sure everything's divvied out," she mused, shrugging. The matter of satiation made her wonder how far the notion went.
"Did Iwata have a wife, and if he did, how did he treat her? Could his previous behavior have any influence on your interactions with me?" she asked.
Sophia might've chosen to retort something back at Doherty, but her keen arcane senses drew her attention away from the walrus toward the ceiling and surrounding area of the park, shivering uneasily. "I don't like this..." she breathed to Quigley. "Something negative is in the air above us, and it's encircling the park!"
"Damn it, Pride must already be encroaching, even with the trial not being over," Ciaran deduced with a hiss.
***
"Keep pushing on, then! We have to get them to safety," Aspasia urged, pressing the saddled steed on toward a lower altitude. "Is it possible they're using us as a possible trigger for something?" she asked the hologram of her husband. Instinctively, she huddled protectively against the elderly Squid as though she was trying to act as a phyiscal shield.
***
Casting a glance back the way they had come, Meris grimaced and tugged the hem of her scarf closer to her head. "While we have some time, we can't take forever to intimidate Sharpe's men. Pride's getting antsy," she mused, watching as they approached the bridge.
***
Neasa scoffed lightly. "Well, you could ask me to help you with any meals you want to prepare for the others, and I could make sure everything's divvied out," she mused, shrugging. The matter of satiation made her wonder how far the notion went.
"Did Iwata have a wife, and if he did, how did he treat her? Could his previous behavior have any influence on your interactions with me?" she asked.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
The walrus settled with a satisfied huff, even as Amazo flashed a look of equal concern to Sophia. He didn't bother with warning the double files of refugees and instead suffused himself with via, unleashing a temporarily intangibility spell. That done, he hopped upwards and through the gallery's ceiling, reappearing topside even as Admiral and his clone lost control, thanks to the negating barrier's effects. As he began to falll, Silas caught sight of Amazo, the two experienced practitioners immediately having some sense of what needed to happen for Sophia, Astra and Lucian to survive. He thrust his opera cane forwards even as Coach unloaded his pistols, a sort of soft arcane mat appearing in mid-air. Astra and Aspasia would land in the intangible mass with the whump typically associated to gymnasium mats, but Lucian's course wasn't quite as easy to follow. He'd apparently had the reflex to try and mitigate his own fall using the Black Speech, but his confused status had prevented him from making the proper calculations. He impacted with the map rather differently, Coach and Amazo's intended soft surface turning hard on impact. He let out a weak scream and rolled off the edge, the anthro snake gritting his teeth and tossing his cape forwards. The length of fabric lengthened and found purchase in the nearby trees, forming a net that prevented Rothchild from impacting with the ground. As for Coach, he settled with shooting the ground a few times, somehow transferring his own momentum downwards. The kind of fall that would've ended with broken bones resulted in him rolling off the ground, outstretching a hand to bring the conjured mat down to ground level.
"Asp!" he shouted, as soon as he could get close. "Astra! Are you alright?!
- I'm - I'm fine!" gasped the Diviner. "How's Lucian?!"
Amazo lowered the net and reclaimed his cape as he came closer, only to stop at the sight of what lay on the floor. Lucian's right arm was bent at an odd angle, the conjured human flesh of his right hand already looking like it was flaking off. The entire right side of his Flesh Mask was missing, two tentacles quivering with pain as blood dripped from them, as though scraping against the erroneously solid arcane surface had flayed his skin. His visible Void Weaver eye was swallowed in a growing bruise. His good hand went to his injured arm out of reflex action, pressing it tightly against his flank as tears flowed from his still human-seeming left cheek.
"Did - did the barrier do this?" asked Amazo, Silas not wasting time as he "loaded" another spell into one of his pistols. He unloaded a sort of medical imaging spell at Rothchild, which exposed a number of fractures along the right arm, grisly cracks and dents along his skull's right eye socket - and a heart in the midst of severe cardiac arrhythmia.
"We need to get him to safety," hurriedly said Silas, as he picked the old man up and passed him to Amazo. "We'll explain the tentacles later! Tell Holden to get his trauma team ready!"
Then followed an outstretched hand, Admiral's hip bone shooting out of the bushes where it had fallen and into his curled fingers.
Coach turned to wife. "We stay here and hold our ground for now - you need to try and call Meris! We need to know if this thing is blocking outbound communications and she needs to know, anyway!"
All told, five or six minutes had passed, with Francis now shouting down the gallery's length. "Sophia! I've got someone who needs stabilization! I need to hook them to the Nexus - I'll need help!"
He was halfway there when he paused. "Um - tell the civvies not to freak out; it's one of your weird alien Squid friends! He's got - half of a human face and it's falling apart!"
* * *
"Duly noted," replied Loren, the bridge shooting past them as their speed suddenly increased. He didn't bother with slowing down or freeing his allies of the moment as they transitioned to low-altitude soaring just above Sandhill's sparse rooftops and spacious industrial lots. Krampus then pointed ahead. "There," he said; the old concrete factory. There's a door along the right silo; just drop us off next to it.
- That would spoil our elements of speed and surprise," countered the alien. "Hold on tight - and expend that arcane willpower of yours, you two!" he asked of Meris and the Christmas Devil. "I'm having us bank around the tower so we're properly angled for a forwards plunge! We'll fly through that Gate!"
Krampus looked alarmed. "Are you crazy?! It's just a door, we can't fit all three of us in there!
- I know," replied the alien. "Hence why I'm pulling part of the wall and the doorframe itself away. Watch."
As they banked into position, the found of torn concrete and wrenching metal was heard, one of Mentalor's hands having shifted to an imperious downwards point. Lights beyond flickered as their connecting wires were torn apart, part of the tower's outer wall then almost contemptuously tossed aside with a flick from the alien's wrist.
"There's our bigger Gate," said Martin. "Now, focus.
- You will find my enthusiasm to be lacking," noted Bagley. "This armature came at great expense to Lord Holden; I would not-
- I could tear you apart and put you back together with my eyes closed, mister Bagley," replied the alien. "Your job is to stay quiet for now. Meris and Mister Kramp will need their concentration."
Kramp offered an anxious look at the Archmage. "Y'ever tried to weave a spell while ridin' a rollercoaster? 'Cause this is what it feels like."
* * *
Bucky looked away and upwards as he dove into his sparse memories of Iwata's life. "I think he had a wife at some point, but I get the feeling Sekigahara or some part of it took the family life away from him - along with sanity. Past that, all I'm gettin' is empty dalliances, a lotta rapin', lotsa food, natch - and just, this gnawing, deep hole he tried to fill with anythin' he could. Power, mostly. His fellas weren't exactly fans of Emperor Meiji or the way he turned samurai into civil servants. It did great for Japan if you'll look at the late eighteen-hundreds - these old warlords made for good policemen, engineers or policy advisors - but it meant they'd need to trade swords or spears for pens and paper..."
He sighed. "I don't want him to interact with you, but I've always needed those few constructive parts of the man. His focus, his reflexes an' sense of body control... Speakin' Japanese comes in handy, sometimes. Everythin' else is just - like a bad hard drive I can't defrag or clean up or, well, whatever the Heck it is you do with these things."
"Asp!" he shouted, as soon as he could get close. "Astra! Are you alright?!
- I'm - I'm fine!" gasped the Diviner. "How's Lucian?!"
Amazo lowered the net and reclaimed his cape as he came closer, only to stop at the sight of what lay on the floor. Lucian's right arm was bent at an odd angle, the conjured human flesh of his right hand already looking like it was flaking off. The entire right side of his Flesh Mask was missing, two tentacles quivering with pain as blood dripped from them, as though scraping against the erroneously solid arcane surface had flayed his skin. His visible Void Weaver eye was swallowed in a growing bruise. His good hand went to his injured arm out of reflex action, pressing it tightly against his flank as tears flowed from his still human-seeming left cheek.
"Did - did the barrier do this?" asked Amazo, Silas not wasting time as he "loaded" another spell into one of his pistols. He unloaded a sort of medical imaging spell at Rothchild, which exposed a number of fractures along the right arm, grisly cracks and dents along his skull's right eye socket - and a heart in the midst of severe cardiac arrhythmia.
"We need to get him to safety," hurriedly said Silas, as he picked the old man up and passed him to Amazo. "We'll explain the tentacles later! Tell Holden to get his trauma team ready!"
Then followed an outstretched hand, Admiral's hip bone shooting out of the bushes where it had fallen and into his curled fingers.
Coach turned to wife. "We stay here and hold our ground for now - you need to try and call Meris! We need to know if this thing is blocking outbound communications and she needs to know, anyway!"
All told, five or six minutes had passed, with Francis now shouting down the gallery's length. "Sophia! I've got someone who needs stabilization! I need to hook them to the Nexus - I'll need help!"
He was halfway there when he paused. "Um - tell the civvies not to freak out; it's one of your weird alien Squid friends! He's got - half of a human face and it's falling apart!"
* * *
"Duly noted," replied Loren, the bridge shooting past them as their speed suddenly increased. He didn't bother with slowing down or freeing his allies of the moment as they transitioned to low-altitude soaring just above Sandhill's sparse rooftops and spacious industrial lots. Krampus then pointed ahead. "There," he said; the old concrete factory. There's a door along the right silo; just drop us off next to it.
- That would spoil our elements of speed and surprise," countered the alien. "Hold on tight - and expend that arcane willpower of yours, you two!" he asked of Meris and the Christmas Devil. "I'm having us bank around the tower so we're properly angled for a forwards plunge! We'll fly through that Gate!"
Krampus looked alarmed. "Are you crazy?! It's just a door, we can't fit all three of us in there!
- I know," replied the alien. "Hence why I'm pulling part of the wall and the doorframe itself away. Watch."
As they banked into position, the found of torn concrete and wrenching metal was heard, one of Mentalor's hands having shifted to an imperious downwards point. Lights beyond flickered as their connecting wires were torn apart, part of the tower's outer wall then almost contemptuously tossed aside with a flick from the alien's wrist.
"There's our bigger Gate," said Martin. "Now, focus.
- You will find my enthusiasm to be lacking," noted Bagley. "This armature came at great expense to Lord Holden; I would not-
- I could tear you apart and put you back together with my eyes closed, mister Bagley," replied the alien. "Your job is to stay quiet for now. Meris and Mister Kramp will need their concentration."
Kramp offered an anxious look at the Archmage. "Y'ever tried to weave a spell while ridin' a rollercoaster? 'Cause this is what it feels like."
* * *
Bucky looked away and upwards as he dove into his sparse memories of Iwata's life. "I think he had a wife at some point, but I get the feeling Sekigahara or some part of it took the family life away from him - along with sanity. Past that, all I'm gettin' is empty dalliances, a lotta rapin', lotsa food, natch - and just, this gnawing, deep hole he tried to fill with anythin' he could. Power, mostly. His fellas weren't exactly fans of Emperor Meiji or the way he turned samurai into civil servants. It did great for Japan if you'll look at the late eighteen-hundreds - these old warlords made for good policemen, engineers or policy advisors - but it meant they'd need to trade swords or spears for pens and paper..."
He sighed. "I don't want him to interact with you, but I've always needed those few constructive parts of the man. His focus, his reflexes an' sense of body control... Speakin' Japanese comes in handy, sometimes. Everythin' else is just - like a bad hard drive I can't defrag or clean up or, well, whatever the Heck it is you do with these things."