Chapter VII - Healing Pains

[Karl the Mad]

2PM Hope time or London time? -MJ

"It sounds very boring, and I say that as someone who likes a bit of predictability in his life myself," Marius replied. "Still though, these people are probably secondary targets if they're only concerned with the heat death of the universe, so we should focus on more immediate threats. Like these other assholes who make me look normal."

With nothing left to do, Charles and Abraham decided to make their exit, nodding or waving before starting to head for their truck. They had preparations to make, anyway.

[IamLEAM1983]

Three briefly looked down to type back London, their next afternoon before pausing to call out to Abraham.

"Abe! Don't forget - tonight's your Darkhallow first! Stay calm, avoid stimulants before going to bed - and bring a totem! Try and fall asleep either while holding something special to you, or having it close by! If everything goes alright and you don't need to use it like a ripcord to pull yourself out, I figure our mystery friend's going to let you pull other people in, if you need to! If we're asleep, we'll be available!"

He smiled and paused to tap his own right temple. "Remember - your mind, your rules!"

That said he raised a hand and bid them farewell, which made Nereus display a brief look of alarm. He briefly excused himself and slipped away from Meris, stepping a few paces closer to the departing pair.

"I can't thank either of you enough, gentlemen. If there's anything in my power I can do to help you - anything at all - just ask. Whether you like it or not, your names are now in the history of my emancipated brethren. Yourselves, your friends - everyone here - are heroes to my kind. This isn't the word of some pompous Augur, this is coming from me, personally."

In the meantime, Anjali nodded. "Benevolent dictators always think the only thing their society needs is one brutal shock, and that it'll end right afterwards. Allocer realized he was spitting propaganda and woke up, but people like Rendell practically wrote their own book. If what Nereus says is right, then there's a precedent to people like Arkham and this Paul Travers of yours. Anastasius Romanov used to have lieutenants who thought enough successive Dominions would return the Terrans of Russia to some sort of perceived State of Nature, where only natural laws would be left to direct us. That extreme application of some De Tocqueville readings ended with Dad injecting Anastasius with the Crimson Spirit.
- Then your father's going to want a talk with Nereus on that very subject sometime soon; I have a feeling the Loyalists kept an eye on our gray-skinned friends' aptitude for mind control..."

Agent Spector, who'd remained silent throughout, then lightly cleared his throat. "I don't want to crash anyone's theorizing, but we've got one open sightline and what I imagine is a fairly frazzled Void Weaver who'll want to at least shower and change, finger measurements to take at Gammell's, and-"

The elevator chimed again, this eliciting a thoughtful grunt out of the Wisp. "Speak of the Devil, huh?" he noted to nobody in particular. In walked Tom, who unusually put a little weight on his staff as he moved forward, and who kept a thumb hooked though a belt hoop at his waist, with his other hand. The warthog looked a little bloated, as well as visibly uncomfortable.

"Sorry I almost missed you," he said, looking like he was forcing a smile on his features, and stepping in to shake Nereus' hand. "I see Azorthagal's referral worked like a charm."

Still a little preoccupied with his gratitude expressed towards Jenkins and Abraham, Nereus didn't look to be entirely there, and added a tired and awkward chuckle.

"It worked a little too well, to be honest. Whatever arcane sickness was foisted on him pushed Amaxi into sponsoring him at an even greater level. I left Chambers in a bad state, yes, but his abilities were beginning to catch up with mine."

Magnus grunted in brief thought. "Well, the principle of the matter is you're here now. You didn't blow up along the way or you weren't lost to the Others, so we can move on as planned."

Noting the Warlock's discomfort, Nereus furrowed his brow. "Excessive company lunch, I take it?
- Sort of," admitted Tom after a slight burp. "I had to discuss of the current status of demonic affairs with some of Zeke's pairs and, well, you simply can't discuss with Gluttony demons if some form of sensory overstimulation isn't involved. I was hoping for junkies or vapid art critics, but I instead landed at Succulus with one Philip Nimis, an old subordinate of Beelzebub's turned food critic and a potential source of inspiration for Lilith, in regards to the Vitellians. It's only been a few months and he's skyrocketed his way into the Michelin Guide's top writers."

Nereus chuckled and flashed a look at Meris. "Yes, Nimis - quite the gentleman for a Duke of Hell. He wouldn't hurt a fly, but he'd keep it seated at his table and pin it there until he decides the occasion's multiple-course meal is over and done with. He interviewed our San Diego chef in 1982 while keeping him working for twenty-three non-consecutive hours. By the look of things, I'd say Nimis was feeling either sluggish or magnanimous - you don't look that bloated, if I may say so."

Tom winced and chuckled. "You tell me; he's pushed me through three camembert wheels and an entire poulet chasseur - I had to stop at the wings or else I would've disrespected his hospitality and his time as a journalist.
- And what did you discuss, exactly?"

The ungulate looked like he knew he had an opportunity to appease Aislinn to a degree, and motioned for the two of them to stand closer to the roane. "Administrative details, mostly. Zeke's more of an all-around gourmand; eating's not his one and only pleasure. Nimis is happy to keep working the same station he did under Beelzebub, and Lyman mentioned he would've liked to have me speak on his behalf about redistributing the load, as it were. More mingling, less pigging out."

Nereus nodded, an impish smile hiding behind his tentacles. "Looks to me like you might've taken some of that mantle for yourself, eh?
- After a fashion," agreed Tom with a wince and a pained chuckle. "God, I think I'm filling a shaker with green tea once I get upstairs!"

[TennyoCeres84]

With the dinging elevator announcing Tom's arrival, Aislinn was quick to take note of his appearance. The leaning on his staff, the mild bloating and the slight air of fatigue around him was lightly disconcerting. Her expression remained neutral as she watched him approach.

On one hand, there was genuine concern for her partner. On the other, it felt like there was a game afoot, which troubled her as well. She wanted to believe he had the best intentions, but there was also that lingering doubt hovering at the back of her mind. The warthog wouldn't be able to sense it, as she was tidily keeping it tucked away.

As Tom gestured for Meris and Nereus to come closer, Aislinn offered him a content smile, his appeasing efforts seeming to work. "Well, we should still try to have some fun. I think you can manage that, right?" she asked Tom, throwing an affectionate arm arm around his shoulders.

With Spector's reminding them of Nereus' likely tiredness and how out in the open they were, Meris eyed the porcine warlock. "During George's prank, he mentioned that he had tea ready in his office. You could probably get some green tea there."

Ciaran had remained quiet himself, observing and letting his grandmother reunited with her husband. "Horatio also had a get-together he was planning. This reunion has been a long time coming, and everybody wanted to celebrate with you two," he said.

Meris looked over at the former Augur. "What would you prefer to do, dear? If you want, you can drop by my apartment to clean up. Spending time with our friends is good, but I also understand if you want to take it easy."

[IamLEAM1983]

"So long as that fun of yours doesn't involve me ingesting solids, I'm game," replied the Warlock, his gaze slightly cooling as he crossed Gremory's. 

"You're hired, by the way," then stated Magnus, which placed a languid smile on his elder brother's face.

"Score one for strong impressions," the Steward of Lust said, whatever satisfaction he might've experienced quickly fading away into generalized passivity, hands in pockets included. "I'd take them up on that George chap's tea, if I were you - I can have some seltzer waiting on the bartop if you're still not fixed up, afterwards."

The warthog nodded his assent, but didn't push further. As for Nereus, he settled with gripping Meris' shoulders briefly. "I could definitely do with a shower; but I'm still a bit too wired-up to rest, at the moment. I haven't had a single excuse to take my mind off things since I escaped California, so that party of Grimley's should be a godsend."

He pressed in a little closer to Meris. "A few drinks, maybe a dance or two; time enough to reconnect, hash less crucial things out..."

A thumb gently traced the roane's left cheek. "I'll drink it all like the finest wine, my dear: your misses and failures, your embarrassing moments as a practitioner and guerilla fighter; a few of your quiet little victories... It's been centuries, Meris. We have to get to know one another all over again."

A familiar twinkle passed in his eyes. "I've got a few juicy ones to offer up, myself - starting with that one time I managed to sneak edibles in Chambers' hiking trail mix and then spent three hours in a little cabin south of Oregon, peeling back his layers..."

Hearing this, Three offered Marius a smirk. "I don't know how Nereus drugging up Amaxi's favourite mouthpiece makes you look normal, but okay," he teased. "What's on your docket for the rest of the day? Do you want to wait until we inaugurate the new dryad, or are you morbidly curious enough to find out what Horatio considers to be a post-war and species-emancipation party?"

[Karl the Mad]

Caught off guard by Nereus' sudden display of gratitude, Charles and Abraham could only stand and grin, though Abe did acknowledge Three's advice with a nod. Tom's reappearance also delayed them, though Charles stepped forward to clap the warthog on the back and smirk. "Ain't no party like a Glutton party, eh??"

"My docket? I figured I'd take you home again before heading back myself and spending time at the drawing board," Marius replied to Three, "but I've got to say, a Grimley party sounds like a fascinating exercise in anthropology and mixology! So you can count me in, I suppose." He gave Tom a curious glance before looking back to Three. "So, forgive me for falling behind, but for some reason I had the impression Magnus had gone missing...?"

[TennyoCeres84]

"We could probably swing by George's office, get some tea to go and encourage George to come with us to Horatio's party. I'm sure he has some stories involving Meris Nereus would love to hear!" she suggested with a warm grin, pulling him into a quick and happy hug with one of her arms.

Her gaze softened, and she smiled as she gently squeezed one of his hands. "Most definitely. I look forward to getting to know you again after all this time.."

The last story offer involving Chambers and a certain plant had Meris laughing heartily to the point of tears lining her eyes. "My stars, I absolutely must hear about Chambers high off his arse!"

Ciaran started back toward the elevators, followed by MIranda and Aspasia. "Then we better get up there! Grimley's probably wondering what's taking us so long!"

[IamLEAM1983]

Charles' clap on the back seemed to disturb currently-sensitive bits and bobs, which made the warthog wince for an instant. "No, no such thing, eh heh," he unsteadily said in agreement with Jenkins, even as a hand went down to his abdomen and his other tried to wedge his staff below his armpit fast enough to come back up and stifle a burp. He... wasn't entirely successful.

"A word of advice to any other hardy folk in attendance right now," he then managed, "Gluttony demons might finally put a dent in whatever semblance of invulnerability you might think you have. Either that or you'll remember we aren't above certain mortal proclivities..."

Pointedly looking back at Magnus even as the group began to push towards the elevators, Randolph confirmed Marius' suspicions underneath a certain dose of sarcasm levied at the warthog. "Yes, well, it appears even certain allies aren't deserving of a calendar share in Shield's office productivity suite. If I'd been informed, I could have maybe helped our friend to dodge most of an obvious case of gastric distress."

Tom's stomach audibly quailed, and he nodded in half-serious contrition. "Mea culpa, whatever it is you want to hear; I'll be more forthcoming, alright? Nimis is one hell of a self-absorbed prick and I wouldn't have put it past him to hire someone to take a gander at our timetable for the day, just to check if I was honest about giving him my full attention."

Randolph's grunt seemed to be taken as simple pensiveness by the Warlock, but Aislinn would realize her friend looked unconvinced. He glanced back at Aislinn, something in his glance suggesting a general lack of belief, as well as the need to let him off the hook for now. He side-eyed the warthog as if to say The state he's in is genuine, at least. We can't work anything out of him while he's like this.

As if to test that theory, Mantus redirected his query. "A single chicken? I'm surprised; the last time the Goat entreated Nimis for a meeting, I had to sit by as the two of them gorged themselves on Leviathan's bounty for eight hours straight.
- Mortal proclivities, like I said," replied Tom. "It's been more than long enough for us demons to feel the mortal plane's effects on us. Beelzebub's formerly official taster might have an appetite to rival Bucky's, he's now well and truly constrained by basic biophysics. Eating for four people might seem like a lot, but for Philip, it's an afternoon amuse-bouche. At least, he's kind enough to stick to food sourced and cooked in Pandemonium, so as to avoid forcing a food shortage on us just as we're recovering. He's realized I was in no condition to keep pace with him."

Randolph looked genuinely surprised, at that one. "He's gone soft, then."

Still, he seemingly shrugged his surprise away. If this plane tended to temper out the more extreme of Fiends over time, it stood to reason that the rather loose head honcho of the Gluttony Wardens - an already sensual and sensitive man even in the depths of the Pit - would've maybe realized that not everybody deserves to die at his table...

* * *

Half an hour had passed, and Nereus had just finished adjusting his suspenders. He'd shucked his white, unwarded jacket on, and slipped on a "scramble ring" of sorts, a half-Veil tied to a ring Gammell had fashioned for him. His features remained clear for all those who harbored him no ill will, but anyone with harmful intent - and anyone without a literal or figurative heartbeat, such as the local cameras - saw his face as a white, milky blur and heard his voice as a distorted garble. His new lodgings for the moment were equally featureless, except for those boxes that had made it just past the front door.

These weren't the exact clothes he'd commissioned out of Rhapso & Ariadne - their pickup point was in London - but their non-inscribed twins, tied to a purchase he'd technically made in his last months as the head of Renewal, on a credit card Chambers hadn't traced. He'd worn white as Nereus Marinos and had also worn white as Xenophon Thanos, but something about this specific suit's cut felt different. Definitive, somehow. It matched his appearance in the Darkhallow beat for beat, crease for crease, stitch for stitch. Pants fitted and already correctly tapered, folds resting and connecting at the right spots - even the shoes were new. They changed his gait by a tiny amount, made him stand straighter. Exhaustion was now a vague suggestion in the back of his eyes, held back by a quick meal provided to him by Bertram and David. He'd attacked the two small hoagies and the proffered Espresso with quiet relish, and had used the shower to quietly release a bit more of his centuries-old emotional charge.

Now, however, he looked somewhere between shocked and thoughtful. He looked back at Meris through his reflection in the mirror.

"How often had you had moments like this?" he quietly asked her. "Moments where you feel that everything is finally in place and that for once, you're exactly where you were always meant to be?"

(using this as an ellipsis to move things along by a tiny bit, I'll have something for Marius and Charles in two posts)

[TennyoCeres84]

Rhadamantus' discourse with the warthog and the warlock's own explanations seemed to placate the selkie's frustrated curiosity for the time being. "I suppose change can happen quicker with some demons than we realize," she surmised with a shrug.

***

Meris looked at Nereus's reflection as she stood to the side of him. "They happen every so often, usually tied to larger, more important events. However, it's usually the still moments when you realize that everything is in order and you're in the right place at the right time. There's a sort of peace when you're experiencing one of those moments," she explained with a fond smile.

Her eyes tilted to the side as she thought over some of them. "The births of Kai and Chauncey and my battle with Chambers after Ascending are a couple of events that had feeling to them."

[IamLEAM1983]

Nereus turned away from his wife's reflection and looked at the genuine article, smiling behind his tendrils. "Chauncey - yes. I feel the same about his birth; if I isolate the betrayal They foisted on me right afterwards. Those first few minutes, where I felt your love for him and could sense his mind expanding as his body followed along? I'd etch them into gold, if I could. Up until They turned that screw, we had it all."

He sighed, more as a re-centering gesture than as a mark of sorrow, even if a bit of sadness still marked the sound. "We'll make it right, Meris. I know we will. First of all, however, we have a few drinks to grab with a reportedly blighted Prelate... I'm curious to meet this Horatio of yours," he admitted, as he started out of his apartment and held his door open for her.

* * *

Herbert had loaned his limousine for those interested, a small procession of his luxury sedan and a few dark purple hybrids belonging to Magnus Tower's Security team driving in front of Holden Hall on their way to Centennial Park. Realizing that fully reconstructing the manor as it had existed would've been inefficient, Archie had authorized WySec to organically graft a more contemporary set of structures to the surviving stones. Thankfully, the main entrance, hallway and West wing of the building had been mostly untouched, even if looters had done irreperable damage to Holden's family collection. Haraldson had retrieval specialists scan various markets worldwide, in case certain volumes popped up as free to buy. The Eastern wing, however, had been blown open months ago, and whatever remained of the Archimedes had been sacked and stripped for parts. With everything related to the maintenance of his old body either vaporized or rendered unrecognizable, it hadn't been too difficult to have contractors tear the ruins down to the surviving coal basement, set a new concrete foundation in place and to use nanotechnology in order to create an open-plan "hazard room"' of sorts, where the group would later prototype new pieces of equipment as needed, spar or test out their skills, or simply plan future courses of action. The steel trusses and reinforced glass panels followed the outline of the old walkspace and attendant wing, looking as though someone had skeletonized half of the mansion and then covered it in warded nano-form glass panels.

Past it waited a tall, cylindrical structure with a domed cap and an angled, jutting protrusion that evoked the large lens of the formerly-present telescope. The whole of it was suggested by more glass designed to withstand several mortar drops. Eirean had already helped in populating most of the space with Archie's old botanical favourites, but they'd drive past the greenhouse a little too quickly to spot those items that were definitive additions to the concept: a few panels had more of an opaque finish, and conspired to create blind spots where anyone inside the greenhouse would have an appreciable amount of intimate space. Wrought-iron staircases connected to various elevated platforms that were beginning to look like a bedroom, a lounge area and a bathroom. The only space that didn't quite look designed for the same person was a recessed area located past the tree and underneath the lounge platform. An old, metallic workbench waited there, already laden with several small open crates stuffed with books related to botany.

A few bleachers had been temporarily set up in front of the greenhouse, the group briefly catching sight of Doherty and Nybbas chatting away with what had to be a few event planners. If anything, the final prep phase for the unveiling was well underway.

Then came Centennial Park and Sophia's former stump, her house cleaned out and closed down, the tree's petrified remains now felled and the remaining stump still being in the process of being carved into a likeness of Sophia. The final statue would be tall, and seemed to have been designed to received some of the city's redirected via flow, once the new dryad would take over. The channels were mostly aesthetic in nature - the green, sylvan glow would complement the rock-hard wooden striations fairly well - but another arcane capacitor stood as an insurance policy that was too good to pass up. The dime museum waited just across from there, the usually verbose billboard outside now simply stating Closed for a private event! Back next Saturday!

The building had been originally designed in order to house four separate floors, but Horatio had used the Pride War's ensuing devastation to redo it as an open-plan design, allowing for a narrow ground-level lobby and a palatial set of double-wide stairs. The second floor looked like an early 1900s carnival midway, with new nickelodeons following old design plans interspersed with other mechanical amusements and, crucially, with various small stages all set and soundproofed in order to allow the circus' members to simultaneously perform their numbers. Even the restrooms had a certain Belle Époque charm to them, all racist connotations here replaced with signs reading "Ladies", "Gentlemen" and "Grinning Fools". The whole affair looked strangely vibrant, although his psyche having been saved from demonic corruption might've cued Horatio in to the occasional value of a more "Ringling Brothers Classic" design philosophy. There weren't morbid callbacks to carnival funnies here, all of it played surprisingly straight. Of course, this was technically only half of the establishment, the other one resting on the old boardwalk right beside Mertown. The dime museum operated a ferry service of a sort, charging a single ticket for the indoors experience as well as for the also-brighter big top and carnival amusements.

Marius and Three were the first few to arrive, alongside Meris and Nereus. Calliope music drifted in the air, popcorn and corndogs wafting in with the music - and the sounds missed the usual off-kilter tone that usually went with Grimley's bunch. Polka dot-covered washi tape blocked the ticket box in the lobby, and a lettered sign waited for them, it's tone reassuringly cheerful:

"Dear friends,

There was simply too much to set up for me to greet you here - we'll see you upstairs. Relax, have fun, peruse the amusements and refreshments for a few minutes, and then please take a seat in the middle atrium. Don't mind Konrad, our friends Jericho and Archie know he can't be expected to keep up a cheerful facade. Still, feel free to speak to him - if you're curious..."

Archie quirked a brow at that. "Hm. I can't say I'm surprised; the fellow would've seen his death coming enough times over to frustrate any quarrelsome Fiend. Note to self, send a decent vintage or two to Liddane, as thanks..."

[TennyoCeres84]

The Archmage sighed. "With any sort of premonition related ability, it's always a rough existence," she opined.

With the incursions, Meris didn't have much contact with Conrad and had heard of his "gift" of seeing his own death repeatedly. Regardless, she chose to wave and nod cordially at him. "Hello Mr. Conrad, I wanted to thank you and Horatio for having us," she said. It might've been more "normal" to ask after his well-being, but doing so seemed too insensitive to direct toward the vampire with his visions.