Chapter VII - Healing Pains

[IamLEAM1983]

Azazel nodded politely. "I've noticed. Well - in a sense. It's hard to really appreciate someone's talent from behind enemy lines. I'm thinking Victum must've sired a few others, seeing as people like Forsythe Holden and Alexander Ruthven only have something like your Noise, as an obvious parallel. I'm guessing time's passed enough for your own strain to start to differentiate itself, and not enough for Vienna's Chairman to really start to challenge the usual ideas about normalcy for diurnal vampires."

A smirk was added. "I can't imagine the big mouse is going to appreciate it, once he really starts to Hulk out at night... Stretchy fabrics are the order of the day for now, but these won't hold for long."

A mundane employee slipped past them, another tray in hand. Glad to have options other than blood, Azazel settled with a glass of sparkling water in a champagne flute. Once that was done, he added a slight cough indicating lasting awkwardness.

"It's, um, the rings, actually," he said, lightly bending his glass-supporting wrist so Marius could see the ornaments on his fingers, which added a touch of virile boldness to the cut of his suit. "Obtaining Godly edicts is a bit difficult with the current climate, so Gabriel can't lift my curse at present. Magnus thought up a stopgap solution that can work until Queen Titania gives it her own shot, tomorrow: the rings are inscribed to absorb my curse and convert it to energy, and there's also warded to have an abnormally high thermal dissipation point compared to pewter's usual TDP; so I don't have that high a risk of burning myself. Most of it is supposed to turn into kinetic force, so I'll just need to take five after the party - go strike something at a safe distance from others."

He set his glass aside, then mimed a few awkward air jabs and grinned, the expression fading quickly as he grew self-conscious. "It, um, feels good too. I'm not the Scapegoat anymore, but I still have a ton of people I'd like to blame. Sariel and mister Wynn both told me exercise can be empowering. I'm a shitty fighter if I'm not riding on top of centuries of rage and desperation, so I'm having fun figuring out how to actually land a decent right hook. Unless Titania's going to somehow upgrade me or something, I'm thinking of maybe asking Meris or Aidan for lessons on tactics."

Azazel smiled again. "Thinking on your feet is a fun change of pace, as far as I'm concerned."

* * *

Adding a hearty chuckle, Nereus couldn't help himself but to clasp Abraham's shoulder. "That you were, my friends - that you must certainly were. Honestly, though, I should be happy if I don't have to involve either of you for a date, of all things!" he said, eyes widening and likely parting with what was probably his first genuine laugh since his escape. What he hadn't planned on was for someone to respond in kind.

They were in daytime, the space was well-lit and most shadows were vague suggestions along the bases of the nickelodeons and the small act-related stages - which ruled-out potential Shadow-Walkers. Even so, the laugh seemed to swell around the group, even as decorated automatic shutters began to partially cover the mezzanine's windows and as spots overhead began to pivot and focus their apertures on the larger stage at the far back, gradually creating deeper pools of daytime murk. The thick, red velvet drapes that hid the backstage area slightly billowed under the influence of an air current - and from out of the stage's shadow walked Horatio Ignatius Grimley.

"Well said, Nereus, my fellow felonious and hopefully not too persnickety Past Prelate!" he said, briefly twirling something that wasn't his usual reed cane, but a new walking stick with a black shaft. Its top was currently out of sight, hidden behind gray leather gloves. His makeup and clothing were different, as he'd gone for a base that seemingly was quite close to the actual color of his skin, and then applied black tincture of a sort on his handlebar mustache. The greasepaint base was thick enough to seemingly eliminate all the usually-visible blemishes he sported, with the usual black lining being a very faint suggestion mostly visible along the sides of his tentacles. With a gray bowler hat, an equally gray three-piece, a white shirt with rounded folds and the kind of prim Windsor tie knot you would've seen in the 1910s, he looked more like he had some sort of role to play later on than he did like himself, and had stopped by to greet his friends. Once he'd appeared, the overhead spots loosened their irises and turned away, the shutters above opening partially. The show had to be about to start soon, then.

Having never seen him before, Marinos was a bit too shocked to formulate anything, which allowed the Ringleader to keep going. Horatio clearly relished in it.

"Love, after all - sweet, gentle and caring love, so soon rekindled! - can't possibly be the right call for two of our favourite sellswords, hm?" he said, going from a suggestive and playful caress of Meris' cheek to a slight chuck on Charles' biceps. He then tweaked his voice, going for some sort of Dick York impersonation that bled into Al Pacino, circa Scarface.

"Honey, I'm home! I know I almost missed our anniversary, but I bought you something... A BUNCHA RIFLES AND ENOUGH C4 TO LEVEL THE NEIGHBOURHOOD!"

Nereus could only blink as Horatio stuck both of his hands on Charles' shoulders and hung on for dear life, looking like his current fit of laughter was about to put an end to his existence.

"But; you're absolutely insane, man!" noted Nereus, which caused Horatio to point back at him while laboriously trying to regain his balance and let go of Charles. "He notices!" almost screamed the Ringleader, his tentacles moving in waves as a grin held his cheek dimples in place somewhere seemingly past the point of pain. "The man's an authority on Eldritch madness and he only notices that he's talking to a madman fifteen seconds after catching sight of me! Deary me, that has to be a new record of obliviousness!"

The bowler-wearing Squid practically flopped in Nereus' arms, his chuckles low, deep and ending with a single, long wheeze as Horatio regained his balance, threw an arm around Nereus' shoulders and squeezed him close, perhaps with a smidgen of added undead strength. His other hand came up and patted the former Augur's belly. "Oh, Nereus, Nereus, Nereus - if only you could see what I see, hm? Big, brown, innocent eyes better suited to a mewling babe than to a centuries-old chronicler and speaker for a gaggle of dead cosmic idiots; the walls of a house of unnameable horrors eroded away and torn down by a raging ocean of kindness."

Grimley sobbed, his eyes looking genuinely watery for a second, to the point where the former Augur looked about ready to ask if he was alright, only for the expression to break away into a sly grin. "I'd almost cry, as touching as this is; but it'd be a waste of good blood..."

Poor Nereus looked like he didn't know how to process what had just happened, which Horatio took as his cue to whip towards Meris and throw his arms up, shouting her name and forcing her into a bear hug.

"Oh Meris, my darling dear - I've got to admit; of all the conspirators I've had shadowed and all the neglectful planners I've ever had the pleasure of sending someone to pick up discarded notes and plans after their passage, you were the second most fun to piece back together. Look at you now: at the top of your game, within sight of your ultimate prize - why, if I didn't have a little something planned already, I'd throw you a second party!"

Three looked amused. "So who's in pole position, then?"

Parting from Meris with more respect for her boundaries than he'd shown for Nereus, Horatio rather unsubtly allowed his eyes to dart between Tom and Marius. "Don't tell anybody," he replied in mock whispers anyone could hear, "but I think there's a tie!"

If anything, the warthog didn't seem particularly bothered. He settled with stepping closer to Meris, Horatio and Nereus and gave the trio a nod. "I'd hope so," he amicably stated, "I haven't worked on freeing my people and ending the Goat's plans for centuries on end to miss out on your assessment, Master Ringleader."

Still smiling, he raised his glass at Marius. "Not that it ever was a competition, though. Wagers over world-defining plots are more the stuff of arrogant dragons, anyway."

Horatio's eyes darted again, as he grinned. "Ooooh - am I sensing BFF energy, as the kids say?"

Scoffing in amusement, Tom lifted a conciliatory hand. "Let's start with mutual professional respect - that seems more apropos."

[TennyoCeres84]

With Horatio's dramatic appearance, Meris smiled in amusement at his antics. Nereus would be able to see that she was used to Grimley's behavior, even as seemingly insane and random as it was to her husband. He could probably figure that her days as a wanderer had exposed her to a variety of mindsets, even ones that boggled him.

She grinned and returned the bear hug. Then closing her eyes, she nodded thoughtfully with a wry smile. "At the very least, I'm glad I was able to keep you and your fellows entertained for a good while, but I know such a paper trail eventually has to come to an end, especially when the Master Ringleader is a close friend," she acknowledged with a chuckle. "I'm sure whatever you have planned will be something to remember!"

While Horatio bantered with Tom and Marius, she looked over at Nereus and chuckled. "It's been some time since I've seen you speechless like that, dear. It's good to see Horatio is already outdoing your expectations, hm?" she teased.

[Karl the Mad]

"Depending on what kind of tactics you're interested in, you might want to speak with one of their associates," Marius replied to Azazel. "A Ms. Jameson, from Hong Kong. If memory serves she was a teacher of sorts for them at some point."

Horatio's arrival cut all conversation short, as no doubt intended, and they turned to watch the chaos unfold. It was amusing enough, though Charles frowned and tried to discretely brush the flaky greasepaint off his shirt from where the undead Squid had carried on.

"I may play one at night, but I wouldn't consider myself a dragon just yet, arrogant or otherwise," Marius replied with a chuckle, shaking his head a little. He privately wondered what Horatio saw in him; Alora had implied he was a seer of some sort as well, had she not?

[IamLEAM1983]

Alora slid a glance between Horatio and Marius, perhaps suggesting she knew what he was mulling about. She gave the Dracul a bit of a smirk. "Present or past schemer, mister Vlastos - you've still got an eye for logistics. Horatio's survived out of playing the fool for longer than anyone here can remember, but he knows what time does to people like us," she noted, smiling. "Blithe improvisation is a young mortal's game - or a particularly enthusiastic madman's gambit."

In the meantime, Azazel was seen crossing out Jameson's name in a notebook, then writing it down again. It might've been hard for anyone to keep tabs on networking opportunities with a buffoon like Horatio hogging the scene, so odds were Azazel's first attempt at writing down her name had gone poorly...

Grimley, closer to the main stage and to Meris, was seen wringing his hands together in a fairly Machiavellian fashion. "Oh, it'll be one for the ages, my dear!" he confirmed, adding a bit of a cruel chuckle. "I know most of our allies could just take a snooze with your beau in the vicinity and take in all of the Black Library's historical sources at their leisure; but that's not exactly fun - especially not when the librarian probably has a dagger concealed somewhere and is looking to try out Portuguese recipes with your own entrails and features as a basis... Late fees are discouraged, you could say."

Nereus' chuckle still seemed a little ill-at-ease. "I, um, I know I haven't been down there too often lately myself, but they can't be that bad, can't they?"

Horatio pursed his tendrils together in the same way someone might've their lips, to affect snooty airs. "Ooooh, someone is too affluent for threats, I see! To be honest, this here mind of mine was locked out the moment my troupe here did me in, but if picking up on Meris' journals was easy, you can imagine how simple it was to pick up on a few minor operatives' dream journals... A lot of things changed since you took to the surface, Nereus m'boy - and the Black Library isn't the haven of studiousness you might've known it to be, anymore. Your buddy, your pal, your bubbeleh - what's-his-face, Christopher? He's reaping the benefits of keeping you on the back-burner for Surface-world plots."

Nereus glanced back at Meris. "Insane, but insightful, apparently... I knew I'd need to re-assert my presence in Dalarath to somehow dilute the Chamberlain's influence, but I never had your luck," he observed. "Willful operatives, enthralled ones, double or triple agents... I never could play Spymaster like you can."

Horatio softly cackled. "Lucky break for you, then: we can. Never try and turn your housekeeper into anything more than she already is, Nereus - she's the most susceptible to break. The next time you're looking for agents, take a pick from the Loyalists' oldest playbook, the one they've all but forgotten about. Why corrupt when you can coerce, hm? A little under-the-table accounting goes a long way, I've found."

Nereus looked a tad embarrassed. "Well, we're always careful about upsetting directing rates for local currency exchanges, what with immortals already forcing the rest of the world to lock inflation rates in with mortal fungible assets alone - an economy that calculates undead cash-flow couldn't maintain anything close to a workable inflation rate, so you can imagine what our conjured gold or our other precious metals could do to the entire system."

Grimley rolled his eyes. "Who's talking about injecting billions, when your average Joe would probably glad if they stayed in the same tax bracket with just a few thousand extra! Not that it matters to you, anymore - you're out, huzzah and all that - but if you ever need to grease a few palms, either take after us or the Gentlemen, hm?"

The Ringleader waggled his eyebrows. "You were still rich, last I checked...
- Chambers' obviously had my accounts frozen. I've got what I had stored away in dead-drop cash."

In response, Horatio gave Marius a look, raised his eyes upwards and mouthed Nereus' own words snidely. As if legal concerns were a serious issue to anyone with a few centuries and some know-how on their record... He then patted Nereus' belly once more. 

"Looks like you've still got a lot to learn, Your Enlarged Eminence... Whether you're looking for a hack or a heist, I'd maybe slip in a word or two to mister Vlastos, hm?"

[TennyoCeres84]

Meris sent Nereus a sympathetic smile and gently squeezed his hand. "In my investigations, bribery frequently progressed cultists' plans better than twisting minds did. Outright fear is more persuasive than consulting old tomes. It doesn't always work that way, but they were convenient and efficient for Loyalists without much effort," she noted.

She tilted her head slightly and clicked her tongue as she looked at him. "I have a feeling the Chamberlain came by his villainy more earnestly and readily than you ever could. You were never meant to be a villain, even though events and some of your lineage might've tried to say otherwise. It's part of why our ruse in Dalarath could only go for so long."

She sighed and added, "We may still have to plot against Chambers, but that won't always include strictly legal means, as Horatio mentioned."

[Karl the Mad]

"I can do you one right now, as a matter of fact." Marius pulled out his phone, a smile to match Horatio's crossing his face. "The name of the bank you use and the local branch president, Nereus, if you please?"

Curious as to what the old vamp had planned, Abe and Charles turned to listen in.

[IamLEAM1983]

Flummoxed, Nereus' facial tendrils performed a few wavelike motions - a sign of verbal indecision. "None, to be honest; Xenophon Thanos is the one who's had his accounts frozen, and if you or associates of yours so much as touch them, Chambers will know within the hour. We've only just begun to rebuild, can I really trust you with this much risk? That's without mentioning how you'd have nowhere to send it to."

In the back, a  few latecomers climbed up. In their numbers were Magnus Haraldson and a curious fellow nobody at Shield would've seen before - or if they had, it would've been infrequently. Haraldson's companion looked to be an anthro rat and a cyborg, the uneven pattern of his ashen fur suggesting there were large patches of lab-grown skin covering black market implants along the face, torso and arms. He clearly hadn't built himself for strength or speed and seemed like he hadn't had much in the way of personal choice for his augments: the eyes were of an old Nikon-Zeiss branch, matte black with red LEDs standing in for irises, and most of his tail looked to be comprised of segmented and servo-actuated parts - possibly to give more concrete use to an appendage that was usually left as-is. He also didn't quite fit the Wyvern Securities sartorial code, a reprint of a Nirvana tee-shirt loosely covering his chest under an even looser plaid shirt. As for the Draugr, he'd skipped on his suit's jacket, as ever, and had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, leaving his honestly unneeded suspenders to add detail to his outfit.

The Dragon-Keepers might've been deader than the oldest of all Guildmates, life still preternaturally clung to their dessicated bones and sharpened eyes. You would've expected a row of exposed roots and mummified, rocklike flecks to be revealed in a smile, but care and attention had allowed Magnus to keep all his pearly whites - if with the aged, grayish patina of old porcelain.

"Let Mister Vlastos handle any needed transfers," the old warrior stated, a bit of a Swedish accent coloring his vowels, "We'll provide the destination and end-point encryption."

As he stepped forward, Magnus extended a hand to Marius. "You'll find all the relevant details on this pendrive, Herr Vlastos. In the immediate, Herr Marinos is under the care of Grüber & Basel, Switzerland, and I've already forwarded his details to the Vienna Council. Once his enemies are dealt with, all immortal-grade interest rates should activate. Until that time, the account's actual administration is under non-disclosure with the shrewd goblin-folk of Rasmussen-Fargo, here in Hope. All rescued funds can be forwarded in Switzerland, an encrypted transfer protocol will handle the rest."

The rat clicked his tongue. "It isn't air-tight, but then again, what is airtight about finance?"

Nereus still looked confused. "So, you'll forward my money to Switzlerland and from there to a seemingly mundane account here?
- Through 128-bit AES encryption and a buncha relays," nodded the rat, "but - yeah. I'd assume Chambers is gonna hire someone to figure all this out, but it'll take a good few years. Seeing as the encryption keys are kept in Wyvern's offline and off-site data centers and we receive a fresh set every month, it's kinda like we're letting the bad guys take a sledgehammer to a wall all they want, while we're adding one brick wall after another right past the first."

The hacker sniffed. "It ain't impenetrable, but the goal is to get 'em to change tactics after a while."

A brand-spanking-new Jameson-Lambert Infosec Mark I prosthetic was outstretched. "Travis Connor, Network Security and Research - pleasure."

Nereus seemed a little slow, as if this was still a bit too much for him to take in. "I, er, thank you, Mister Connor. I think I've heard of you from Chambers' agents, about fifteen years ago..."

The rodent nodded in agreement. "That's likely, I made the Pop-Sci and medical headlines, before catching my big break: went Black Hat for the wrong people, ended up as one of the rare Terrans to get a micro-dose of Paradise-farmed mycotoxins. Tripped balls for four days straight while my central nervous system was getting torn apart. Aldergard Kuhn saw some potential in me, stuck me on some bleeding-edge treatments and grafts - couldn't do shit about the kill-switch feature the Russian pricks stuck in my eyes and cerebral bypass SOC. Can't use newtech without going under the knife and losing my occiputal lobe or risking damage to language processing."

The big Squid's empathy was obvious. "Oh, that's horrible! That makes your work all the more praiseworthy, however..."

The rat blew a cheerfully dismissive raspberry as quietly and politely as he could. "Nah, it's alright. Besides, my achromatopsia looks like what you'd see on Nintendo's old Virtual Boy. Black and red high-density grid with compensation for old CRT flicker or modern monitor ranges."

As if to prove his point, he gave Marius a thumbs-up. "Nice jacket, mister Vlastos. I'd ask what color it is, but I'll just go with crosshatched reddish-gray, if I'm being honest."

All this attention was clearly overwhelming the former Augur, who slipped his arm back around Meris' shoulders and did his best to look away as he marshalled a few brimming tears. Seeing this, Three stepped closer.

"What is it, Nereus?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

His voice strangled, Marinos tried to nod dismissively. "It's - It's nothing; it's just that spending so much time alone and then learning that Meris - that Meris and I - had so many allies and assisting logistics; well..."

The Squid tried to go for a grin and a chuckle, but it also came out sounding like a strangled sob. "It's overwhelming and it's humbling!" he then admitted. "I'd just wished I'd known you were all out there during the worst of it all, I maybe would've made a better impression as a sham villain, considering."

Aidan settled with squeezing the Augur's soft biceps as a brief show of support, and gave Charles and Abraham a smile.

Forget the paychecks, the excitement, the danger or even the friendships forged; this was one of the main reasons everything so far had been worthwhile.

"I hope you guys love your jobs as much as I do mine, right now," he then said. To Nereus, he then affected a jokingly serious tone.

"Well, I hope you appreciated it," he said, seemingly businesslike, "because you'll eventually have a bill to foot - and I expect to be paid in seafood-cooking lessons."

That was one jab Nereus managed to laugh at, and he used his free hand pull Aidan in closer for a brief partial hug with that same arm. That done, he briefly glanced about and tried to raise his voice, briefly demanding that all other conversations be paused for a few seconds. That done, he coughed and briefly seemed self-conscious for a second or two.

"I just wanted to apologize to anyone I haven't personally thanked yet - it's incoming, I promise. To everyone, I wanted to thank you as deeply and as sincerely as I can for, well, surviving the last few months, the last year, and all the while you spent with Meris, helping her in your respective measures. You might feel as though you've had an ancillary contribution or just not much to do with it all, but even if all you did was befriend and assist the more active conspirators we have here, it was a godsend - of that you can be certain.

All I've ever seen in terms of intelligence and counter-intelligence involves politics, sociopathy, greed, hatred and bigotry; and my job was to take this toxic mess and put a great, big smile on it so your mundane acquaintances and friends wouldn't suspect much. Meris gave me an all-too-brief preview of honest and passionate collaborative work, and I don't think even the revised Black Speech has words that could contain my levels of excitement and anticipation. My one and only regret is that I couldn't have been with you - with all of you, planning against Chambers or the Goat or even in the Lambert case or the former Winter Lord's - until now."

He paused for a moment. "Before the Usurper destroyed my culture, my people's research pools and think tanks became quite close even if they weren't all of the same family units or polycules. Advance a science with the same people for centuries on end, I suppose, and there's a point where the lack of blood ties stops mattering. I believe we've a Great Work set before us, and that we're all seated at the same proverbial table, looking over seemingly disparate elements of the same whole."

Marinos smirked briefly. "According to the Architect's long-since forgotten edicts, that makes you family."

Having briefly let go of Meris to be able to raise his dominant hand, he gently encapsulated everyone's respective dominant hand in a pod of force, and effectively did as Herbert occasionally did to his visitors and guests. Silently and safely conjuring custom drinks for everyone in attendance, he raised a glass of bespoke champagne that Meris would've known to be absolutely decadent by smell alone. Her own custom-tailored bubbly perfectly suited her tastes as well, as could be expected of her lover.

"Thank you for welcoming me amongst you," said the former Augur. "A toast, please - to all of us."

[TennyoCeres84]

Meris raised her glass and smiled brightly. "Cheers!" she happily exclaimed, gently clinking her glass against his. Her customized drink consisted of an interesting cocktail combining espresso and rum with a couple lemon wedges. Given her globetrotting, it wouldn't be surprising to see something like that in place of something more commonly found in Scandinavia or any Celtic lands.

Aislinn clinked her glass against Tom's with a smile and sipped at her beverage, her ruby-colored drink glinting in the light. Neasa clinked her raspberry-colored beverage against CIaran's and Bucky's before drinking. A series of "Cheers!" were heard from Meris' relatives.

Aspasia and Miranda clinked their glasses against Coach's, Aspasia with some whiskey and Miranda with fruity-flavored tea. A series of "Cheers!" rang out from them as well,

[Karl the Mad]

Marius accepted the pendrive with a nod and stepped away from the group, plugging it into his phone and perusing the contents. Everything was in order, and they even had the details of "Thanos'" local banking arrangements. Excellent! So he rang up the branch office and started asking for the vice president, quite unafraid to drop his own name if it meant getting up the food chain faster.

He felt his hand curling and switched his phone, in time to receive a glass of angelic blood, though he had to settle for raising it in agreement with everyone else and sipping quickly. Charles seemed to have received a very high end vodka cocktail, whereas Abraham had a glass full of mere water, albeit water cold enough to frost the glass. They too said "Cheers!" and toasted the group.

A few moments later, Marius finally got to the person he wanted, and waved Nereus over, putting his phone on speaker as he did so. "Franklin Moore speaking," came a somewhat nervous voice over the phone, and Marius grinned.

"Moore, this is Vlastos. Yes, that Vlastos. I understand your bank is looking after the accounts of one Xenophon Thanos?"

"Er- I can't comment on that, sir, confiden-"

"Moore, do you remember the last time we spoke in person?" Vlastos cut in, sounding impatient. "I realize it's been a while, but I wasn't that forgettable to you..." More sputtering in response, and it was clear that Moore had in fact forgotten that last meeting. Or perhaps he had blocked it out?

"L-Listen, Mister Vlastos, please, I don't know how you learned about this, but if you know about Thanos, then you know who else is watching those accounts. Right?" the bank officer went on, speaking in a rush as if to get the bad news out of the way.

"I'm not scared of that one, and you shouldn't be scared either. Now, listen closely. I'm going to give you some account and routing numbers, and you're going to transfer Thanos' moneys to those accounts. They belong to a Swiss bank called Grüber & Basel, and they are expecting said transfer within the hour. We believe they are better positioned to look after the moneys in question."

"Now see here! Even if we didn't have Ch- um, other people watching us, I can't just-!"

"You can and you will, Moore! That one's in California, I am here in Hope! I've made a lot of progress and I'd hate to regress back to my old ways just to get you to perform this simple task!"

"...he'll know as soon as the money is moved, you know. We'd have to notify him anyway."

"Let him, then. I told you we're not afraid of him. Now stop recording this call so I can give you those numbers!" There was a pause, and he looked down at his phone; a blinking red light went off, indicating there was no longer a recording being made on either end. "Good. Have you got a pen?" He recited the numbers, had Moore recite them back. "Shred that notepad once you're done. Then I suggest you go outside in forty-five minutes, where some large men in suits will be waiting to escort you to Canada for an unexpected vacation. Do it quickly and I'll make sure you're rewarded; how does ten percent sound?"

He covered the phone and looked to Magnus. "Can you make sure some large men in suits are waiting for him, then?" he asked quietly, so as not to be heard by the bank officer.

About a minute later, Moore spoke again. "It's started, Mister Vlastos. God help you."

"God's got nothing to do with this. Enjoy your vacation, Moore." He then hung up and clapped Nereus on the shoulder, draining the rest of his glass of blood at the same time. "You'll be rich again in an hour or so, my friend. I doubt Chambers will want to mess with those Swiss fellows, hm?"

[IamLEAM1983]

Most of everyone joined in, Shamus being the first to break out of the round of renewed chatter that had resulted from the toast to hover closer to Nereus and Marius. A grifter is always a grifter even if he isn't running grifts and while outwardly simple, Wallace was anything but. Magnus agreed and stepped away to press on his earpiece and blast through a few seconds of clipped and commanding Swedish. The rat's own drink was a simple tumbler of Rum & Coke, which he swirled around while looking at nothing in particular for a few moments. A few LEDs that had been turned off along the side of his face were now blinking.

"...and it's off to the races!" he quietly noted as he stepped closer. "The IP for one of Chambers' laptops is pinging on a wide band, which fits with what we expected. We'd spotted flagging code that didn't fit Renewal's other data centers and made sure not to trip anything. This means Chambers just received a notification or an email set on a dead man's switch. For now, it's just him and a laptop."

Nereus nodded. "He's persistent; it'll take a while for him to realize he needs a team. The last time Nosferatu Ops hacked us, I had to authorize three new netbooks for his own use."

Scoffing lightly, he looked back to Meris. "Imagine being so enraged you can't think executively and have to give the keys to the exact person you'd rather keep on a tight leash... I thought about using one of the devices to contact you traditionally, but realized I wouldn't be able to justify my setting up his accounts when we obviously had our own IT division," he explained, providing finger-quotes.

Shamus' own drink was one of those oversized Fantasy beer steins, and he didn't really bother to hide that he'd essentially shrugged and accepted the beverage's presence immediately, only to guzzle it down in the next breath.

"What I caught from all this," he noted, "is that you've made the computer-stuff real hard to track all the way to its destination. I know you had this trucker cover, but how many changes did you go through?"

Nereus gave Meris a bit of a quizzical look. "Are you scared I might have left a trace, Mister Wallace?
- You've left one there's nobody left to report on," noted Bucky, "but it's still there. Y'all got this mental maze thing when you sleep, right? Any actual travel plans should be just as complicated, from then on; 'cause Chambers is gonna realize untangling all this Web crap ain't worth squat. The problem is, now everything's connected. Facial rec, travel booking sites, online storefronts - even if they ain't hackin' no account o' yours, all they need is somethin' like your credit card statement - especially seein' as you didn't exactly make it secret that you intended to come here and live as Nereus Marinos."

Things seemed to settle into the former Augur's mind. "I didn't come all this way just to not live as the man I always thought I'd be; both for my wife and myself! Is there anything we can do?"

Bucky stuck a hand in front of his mouth and at least gestured in order to stifle his burp, which didn't really do much. "Well, those last few decades've been kinda stir-crazy about recycling, so, um..."

Sniffing, he looked back to Marius. "What are the odds we could get one o' them angels to modify Damnatio Memoriae, if they've got that Burden back?"

Nereus blinked. "Are you saying our enemies could forget me?!"

Wallace shrugged. "Well, it's that or you get another Squid to wiggle them wigglies; getcha free plastic surgery down at the genetic level. The one problem with the curse angle is even if we were exempt, external media wouldn't be. I don't think you'd like it if livin' here meant never bein' able to take snapshots during a group dinner, huh?"

Grimley's jovial falsetto slipped in. "The solution seems simple to me, my dear befuddled friends," he said, giving them a grin that didn't evoke anything pleasant.

"You see, it isn't Nereus that needs to be patched out of existence, it's your enemies' minds! The core concept is sound - and I know that's rich, coming from moi - but anyone who illicitly raises a camera's objective or a gun's muzzle at our Tumultuous Tenor needs to not make sense of who it is they're looking at! Cameras aren't people, they honestly don't matter in this scheme! They're just another window, and the ones who deserve that curse are the ones looking through it."
 
He gave his cane a little toss and caught it at the hilt, exposing its pommel to be a small, if exquisitly-carved jester's bonnet, etched out of silver. "You, me, your average tourist glimpsing upon the local luminaries? There's no need to deprive them of anyone's presence! Besides, you'd know exactly who to target!"

Three sipped at his Pepsi from close by. "Any and all Loyalists, right?"

Horatio puffed air out from his tentacles, his expression one of disappointment. "Think smaller,  Aidan! Or think bigger, if you're measuring things by the target's ego..."

A few seconds passed and Tom, who'd stepped closer, rolled a finely-clawed hand. "When targeting a curse, never think about the outer nodes. Always aim your hex at the closest point to the origin of the phenomenon you're looking to impede; it's more efficient."

Nereus looked at his champagne flute the way Katherine Starr would've to the data points in a situation, drawing lines between the little spheres of rising gas.

"Like what mister Holden did for Anastasius Romanov," he deduced. "We curse Chambers again, seeing as the only thing that matters is that he never recognizes me from his scouting reports. It doesn't matter if an army of scouts reports back with positive sightings, if he doesn't know what to do with them..."

Tom smiled darkly. "Then nothing happens."

Horatio's resulting peal of laughter might've given the impression that the tables had been flipped, somewhat...