The Zen and Fury in Healing

[IamLEAM1983]

For several long seconds, Shen Long kept his arms raised in an unfamiliar stance: not quite a Wing Chun starting position, not a front-guarding taijiquan stance, either. He then carefully moved, eyes not so much on Aspasia as on the totality of her being, and threw a few testing punches and hand swats. The old soldier wouldn't have any trouble blocking or redirecting them, but she'd also recognize his approach: he was reading her, tuning into her sense of flow, charting the landscape of the older Faun's own martial skill.

Over the next several minutes, his strikes felt less like probes and more like the real deal - not so much designed to hurt her as intended to work past her defenses. Of course, Aspasia would've had every leisure to do the exact same. The old dragon's form was phenomenally solid for someone who'd just referred to both old age and perceived weakness - but it wasn't perfect. There wouldn't be much doubt that Miranda had seen him at his peak, back when every single gesture of his shone with purpose and directed intent, but what Aspasia was looking at felt like a world-class painter rediscovering their medium in rehab, following a declared case of partial paralysis. His hips were his obvious weak point, never quite as limber as his knees and ankles, and he clearly favored his left leg. She'd even smell the faintest trace of pain on him, likely entirely ignored or not even registering on the conscious level, but still present.

That, then, posed a dilemma. Would she honor his skills and mentorship by disarming him using the weaknesses he presented, or would she wait it out for a heartbeat or two, wait for a different side to present itself, for his stance to change and to show signs of improvement? One good leg sweep and she'd either end the spar or force Long to change his stance, perhaps in relying on his gifts to preserve his centre of balance. She could also channel a bit of Jiujitsu and push him off-balance following a strike. With his back open, she wouldn't have too much trouble pushing or throwing him to the floor.

Ah, but the soldier's mindset in her also whispered that this could simply be tactical misdirection... She'd remember using her own pain a variety of times in the past, if it allowed a soldier of hers or even Coach to catch up with her and deal with an opponent showing no active defenses. If everything went to Hell, dropping your gun and pleading for your life - or allowing actual pain to register again - typically brought out the gloating fool out of any opponent.

Of course, Asp wasn't the type to gloat, but any pang of immediate empathy might present Shen Long with an opening he'd use for an object lesson. The commander would know she wasn't in for anything dangerous - likely a sudden palm-heel push or a shoulder being pushed in to force her to fall, as Shen Long was always serious about his spars' didactic elements, but it didn't change the fact that any focused display of martial artistry involved figuring out which buttons to push in your opponents.

Where were the incipient mistakes, and where were the reinforcement opportunities Shen likely hoped for? That was something Aspasia would obviously have to find out on her own.

[TennyoCeres84]

Over the course of their spar, Aspasia read Shen Long's strikes, searching for deeper meaning between the lines. She certainly wouldn't be intentionally cruel, but she was also the type to analyze a fighter's true intentions. The dragon was adept at hiding what lesson he might want to provide for Marius and all of them. After all, a fighter of any background should never stop learning. He could possibly be trying to get her to drop her guard and cause her to show a vulnerability.

There was also the benefit of helping to strengthen and tune his body back to its former peak. In essence, the fauness' punches and kicks weren't pulled back to accommodate for the weakness in his leg and hips. Also, her actions held an intrinsic form of mercy. She obviously wanted to see him return to full health and accuracy, so it explained why she sparred with the same prowess as though he hadn't been injured in the past months. She didn't land brutal hits, but neither did she let up on him. The former commander then struck a double blow of striking at his legs and moving in for a hit toward the torso.

In contrast to her mother, Miranda still had the sensation of youth to her movements, a certain innocence even with everything that had happened during the Infernal incursions. She was quick with her thrusts of the bokken and light on her hooves. Marius would sense a form of playfulness to her movements. Some of it may have been her own personality traits, but Joyful Death may also have been rubbing off on her in a positive way. The sword obviously wasn't teaching her to be some sort of blood knight, but there was an excitement to her technique.

The teenager would energetically block the vampire's blows, while she would then artfully dodge the arcs of his wooden blade. A light smile would spread across her face when she would lightly make contact with his torso or an arm or a leg. During her battle with the Wyrm who had nearly succeeded in killing Shen Long, it was mostly survival, along with having mercy upon a deluded member of the Damned. Her spirited sparring made it seem like she was dancing. In an elated breath, she asked, "Having fun, Marius?"

[Karl the Mad]

She seemed to be having fun. That was fine. Marius couldn't keep up with her on skill, and didn't try to; as open as she was, it was easy as anything to read her movements and react accordingly, playing defensive, lashing out with slow strikes of his own now and then. No way could he go all out, not on this little slip of a lass.

Miranda would quickly glean that the older man only had one eye on her, and the other on Long and Aspasia, watching them fight. He proved himself a quick learner, then, by trying those moves himself, or at least, how he saw them from the angle anyway.

Fun? Was he having fun? "Sure, kid," he replied evenly. He was hardly straining himself, his breathing even. Miranda had nothing on Grishnakhal.

He decided to step it up, just a hair. Block harder, swing faster, evade her blows instead of letting them bounce off. And then step it up again, right when she would be adjusting to the new pace.

What are you DOING?? the nasty part of himself asked testily, stirring in the back of his mind. You have BETTER things to do! Go home, find your drawing board! You've got WORK to do, REAL work, not playing with children!

"Be quiet," he countered under his breath, as Miranda would notice signs of strain for the first time during the spar.

No! Go home! To your table, to your vault, your treasures! the voice insisted. Voices, really, the racial greed asserting itself once more.

"They're not mine!" Marius insisted, as if he didn't know he was speaking aloud to the voices only he could hear. He was losing it, breath coming in jerks, eyes wide, movements erratic. For a few split moments he assaulted Miranda with more than she could handle, blade a blur, more as if to drive her back than to actually harm her.

Then he stepped in, knocked her down with a rushing shove, brought the false blade up as if to impale her to the floor. Do it! Do it and run! They can't catch you! Your vaults aren't secure!

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" The blade fell to the floor; he was in the corner before it landed, face buried in his hands, groaning from the effort of fighting himself. "I'm sorry, I... Enlil. I need to see Enlil-" He was trembling all over, face contorted in rage behind his hands, eyes filled with empty, inward-facing fury.

[IamLEAM1983]

Aspasia's double blows worked as intended, Shen Long taking the resulting plunge with almost precisely-tuned gestures that turned what should've been him falling flat on his back into a backwards roll. He did grimace as he came back up, however, shifting his weight to his good leg and bringing his arms up to both parry whatever else would come and prospectively land a few more strikes - 

Marius' shout made him freeze mid-gesture, a strong gust of air rising in the room and turning the dragon's backwards hop into a wire-fu-worthy blind dive for the spot between the vampire and younger fauness.

"Miranda," he asked, a bit of alarm tinting his words, "are you alright?"

Marius having pushed her back, one hand slipped behind her head and felt for any bruises. Marius and herself had been using his lightly-cushioned tatami mat, so the odds of the girl having actually been hurt would still be fairly low.

The dragon looked back to his student's mother. "Aspasia - kindly check on mister Vlastos," he asked, then craning his head back. "I will be right with you, Marius," he said, his tone carrying a mixture of urgency and patience. "Please, stay with us. This was not unforeseen and is not your fault."

While Marius' request was understandable, the Babylonian wasn't consistently available. He still was Chief of Security for the Vienna Council and his maintained docket of contacts took him all over the globe. Aspasia might be able to borrow Marius' phone and speed-dial the Carmilla elder's number for him, at least.

As for Shen Long, he offered a steadier gaze to Miranda. "This isn't your fault, either, Mira - I want this to be clear. You sparred as your reflexes and the weapon used dictated; you couldn't have predicted what your stance would bring out in him."

Gently, he brought her to her feet. "These things happen; especially in real bouts. No matter how serene mine and the sword's teachings might make you feel, you remain human. You still feel. You've seen one example of the sort of inner turmoil aged combatants can carry."

While keeping a hand on her shoulder, he took a step away from her, signalling he needed to go join her mother by the vampire's side. "Five minutes, child," he said, smiling kindly. "All this means is that we need to keep practicing your backwards tumbles."

* * *

Allocer, Walt and Manuel left the tower's elevator for the dragon's penthouse, only for Valtiel to quirk an eyebrow at the sight of Shen Long's decidedly young receptionist. What didn't help matters was the boy's fairly concerned looks, either.

"Is something wrong?" asked Allocer, to which Kevin replied by pursing his lips and glancing at the penthouse and dojo's camera feeds. "I just, um... I know we have a few hundred Sons on call squirrelled away all over the building, but mister Long keeps saying he's handled worse, before. I just -"

The Duke glanced back at Manny, who pursed his lips and refocused on Allocer's manacles. Their glow intensified for an instant, then turning dimmer than they'd previously been. The deposed Duke's leash had just been slackened, allowing the big Pride Knight to slip around the desk in an oddly discreet fashion. He peered at the feed for a few seconds and then looked back at his handlers.

"This looks like a bad time," he said. "Vlastos is here - I think he's in crisis."

Valtiel sighed. "If only we'd ratified the Accords years ago, we'd have been able to send one of our own ahead of time and teach Vlastos healthy coping mechanisms much earlier. We can leave, if you'd prefer. Warden doesn't need to worry about this if you don't get mixed up in it."

The demon sighed. "I fought with him, Valtiel. He's part of the reason I'm in your custody instead of trapped down in the Pit or just plain annihilated. I'd rather we hung back for a few minutes, see if there isn't a more tactful moment for us to step in. He's only just realizing he's got a support network - I'm not leaving him alone if I can help it."

Kevin licked his lips. "Um; we had Wormsworth on today's schedule, too..."

Allocer straightened himself and rolled his eyes. "Right - we'd best wait a while, then. If I were in Marius' shoes, I wouldn't want to be swarmed by a handful of people all claiming they care. He's still at the stage where they flinch and call for their best-helpful case worker; Pop-Sci psychotherapy doled out by the former enemy occupant or the new Prince of Pride won't help out a bit."

Valtiel seemed a bit hesitant, at that notion. "Well, Herbert's Pride is a heck of a lot more constructive than the Goat's - maybe he could remind him to focus on his achievements or his current efforts..."

The Knight settled with a soft glower. "Not now, Walt. In his state, he'd probably take Herbert's new take on altruism to be too much. I know that you and Manny are the bosses, here, but I'd call for us to just sit this through with magazines and a coffee. Marius is going to tell us when he's ready to see other people - in his own way."

The young man coughed nervously. "Right, well, um... I'll phone ahead for some joe and I'll make sure mister Wormsworth is, um, intercepted on the ground floor. There's seats over there with some magazines. I'll keep an eye on the feeds, let you know if there's a right time to knock on the door."

[TennyoCeres84]

Things had happened so suddenly as the vampire switched from seeming essentially bored to showing signs of strain during their spar. His rushing movements pushed Miranda's reflexes to their peak as she hurriedly backed away. Marius' rapid swings of the bokken were more than she could handle, and she had felt panic rush in as he knocked her down and held the wooden sword over her.

The lightly cushioned tatami mats broke most of the impact of her head against the floor, with her horns making contact first. While her skull wasn't injured, she still brought her hand up to the back of her head and winced, with Shen Long swooping in to check on her. "I-I'm okay," she responded. She felt a little tender from the abrupt and rough landing, but there was obviously no broken bones. The tatami mats' straw had left some mild scrapes and bruises underneath the fur on her legs.

Once she had realized what was occurring, Aspasia felt a brief flash of anger due to maternal instinct, but it was quickly squashed as she understood how Marius had been triggered. Shen Long was seeing to Miranda, so she went to find Marius' phone. Given the vampire's need to have control over his possessions, she was surprised to find his cell phone placed on a table. However, it made sense that you wouldn't want a phone to fall out while sparring. She quickly thumbed through the contact list and found the Carmilla's phone number and dialed it. "Take some deep breaths, Marius. I called Enlil, but you should try to calm yourself so you can talk to him clearly," she said calmly as she handed him the cell phone.

Once the girl had settled down, she nodded understandingly. "Okay, thank you for checking on me. I think I was more startled by him than anything else," she admitted, gesturing for him to check on the vampire.

The fauness could hear other voices coming from the office, so she slipped off to check on who else was there. She recognized that it was Allocer and what looked like a couple guards talking with Kevin. She had only been around the former administrator a short while after the conflict had ended, so she still wasn't too sure about him. "What's going on, Kevin?" she said as she opened the door to sate her curiosity. "Shen Long and Mom are trying to get Marius to settle down and talk to Enlil on the phone."

[Karl the Mad]

Guilt and greed screamed at each other within the space of the vampire's mind as he stood in the corner, clutching at his head. On one hand he knew that he was making progress, slowly but surely, and that he had no business attacking a child that severely in what was supposed to be a simple spar. On the other hand... well, on the other hand was all the noise of Victum's curse, demanding he return home immediately, covet his Things, admire his Objects, cling to his Drawing Board and come up with Amazing Schematics to keep his Things and Objects safe.

The guilt barely edged out, for now, and he clenched his fists against the rush of emotions. He couldn't afford to lose control, not here. His sharp ears picked up voices from the office outside, and he wondered just how many appointments Long's so-called glitch had crossed up today. Who was out there, anyway? Allocer and his minders, it sounded like. Hmm. Allocer was a sturdy sort, wasn't he...?

Aspasia was offering his phone, and he was glad he had made Enlil an emergency contact so he could be reached without having to unlock the device. "Is- is the girl okay?" he asked, sucking down air like a man just rescued from drowning. "Please, I, I didn't mean to- I hope I didn't-" His throat caught and he couldn't finish the words, and he could only hope that she caught his meaning.

The phone, was it dialing? He cringed, hoping he wasn't bothering his fellow elder. Especially when he learned why Marius was calling! He felt a bit silly, but there was nothing else for it. At the moment he just wanted to punch something, or someone, and get the pressure out of his head through physical exertion. But his surroundings were too flimsy for that!

Voices, people. No one he wanted to deal with right now, well-meaning though they might be. He looked to Aspasia again. "Is there another way out of this room? Up to the roof, maybe?"

[IamLEAM1983]

Long watched Miranda leave for an instant, then returning his attention back to Marius. "She is fine," he said, his tone as reassuring as he could manage. "Look - her gait is solid. Nothing but a few bruises," he said, placing a hand on Vlastos' shoulder.

"Circumstances being what they are," he said, "I believe you did well. Any exercise starts with some measure of pain or discomfort. All this tells me is that we've found your upper limit - for now. I would advise against retreating so soon, but if you want some fresh air, I can always help you to the radio tower mast, up above."

The dragon then fell silent, as Marius' phone had apparently made its requested connection with a slight delay. "Marius?" asked a man's voice, in what could've been the mid-thirties, with a tiny bit of a Eurotrash accent - neither quite Middle-Eastern, American or based in the Old Country. Sleep clung to it, as well, quickly pushed aside. Vlastos could hear a mattress shift and some sort of nightstand's lamp being turned on.

"What's going on? Are you alright?"

No admonitions, obviously. Enlil knew better than to take Marius' waking him up in the middle of the night personally. Something like Mandarin faintly reached him from the back of the callee's soundscape, rattled off in what had to be a China-based Google Assistant module that had likely reacted to Enlil's voice and begun to rattle off a morning routine. At the most, that would tell Vlastos that Enlil was currently in Shenzhen.

The Babylonian clicked his tongue. "One second - Hey Google, he said in Mandarin, I'm up, already. Stop my morning routine and reset my alarm."

A grunt, followed by the sound of someone rubbing the back of their neck. The padding noises of someone walking about barefoot. "Sorry, Marius; half past midnight over here... How are things?"

The question might've sounded casual, but those who knew Enlil knew he wasn't the type to affect grievous levels of concern. Other aged immortals tended to react badly if they sensed they were the object of a Council employee's undivided attention, typically out of performative anxiety. That was effectively a tone-based and non-verbal trick of Enlil's, something to suggest that Marius wasn't in any trouble and that Enlil wasn't just listening to him out of professional obligation.

* * *

"We saw that, yeah," noted Kevin, who gestured to his desk's camera feed and then eyed the demon. "I think you've met Allocer once or twice before, right?"

The two angels looked back at the demon, nodded in the affirmative, and seemingly allowed Allocer to address the girl. "I, er, fought on your side with Lucifer, Nami, Lucian and a few others. Quigley and Nybbas, notably. Lucifer derailed my political career here, opened my eyes and, well, took me on a wild goose chase that covered the rest of the occupation all the way through the active resistance."

He smiled, albeit with a bit of reservation, as though he wasn't sure how the girl would react. "I've heard a lot of good things about you, Miranda. When a dragon vouches for you, a lot of other dragons start talking and, well, there's a lot of dragons in Chimera Row."

Something made him raise his eyebrows. "I don't mean that as a threat, it's just - I sometimes think dragons are as nosy and as eager to spread gossip as my old comrades. The reformed Greens and Reds are commending Shen Long's handling of his new pupils, the Wyrm are wondering what he sees in you and I, well..."

He shook his head and smirked. "I just hope you aren't too hard on him," he joked, his eyes gleaming. 

Allocer had broken off both of his horns at different points during the final battles, and the jagged points were still in the process of growing back. He'd obviously done what he could to buff them and make sure the break points wouldn't produce sharp edges, but it'd be a while before he'd be able to follow alongside Bob and cap them off with a softer metallic tip.

Figuring he might address the reason behind his presence - and not knowing that Shen Long had already explained things - he coughed in mild hesitation. "I think someone mis-schedueld us; my session looks like it's overlapping with yours and Marius'... Knowing the old furball, it's probably half an accident and half an opportunity he figured he couldn't pass up."

Valtiel tossed in a grin. "Chinese dragons have a certain... didactic edge to them. Everything's a teachable moment."

Hearing Marius from the other side, Menoth grunted lightly. "Yeah - we're better off shooting the shit for now... Let's not shake the hornets' nest too much. He'll come down when he's ready."

[TennyoCeres84]

Aspasia nodded reassuringly to the vampire. "She's okay. Mira's sturdier than she looks, like any Faun," she said quietly once Enlil would have picked up from his side.

Allowing the man some peace, she stood off to the side quietly and waited until he would be comfortable talking to them again.

***

Miranda glanced back toward the door. "Marius fought alongside Mom to take the Goat's main base in the Infernal wastes, so she's there to help him, in case he needs it. Sparring can be intense for someone not used to being around people," she noted with a bit of sadness for the vampire.

She smiled lightly at Allocer, the expression seeming slightly cheeky. "I did take down one of the Wyrm from Belial's camp, Aric. Belial wanted Joyful Death for his own designs, but Shen Long thought I'd be a better wielder. I was able to get him to the hospital so he wouldn't leave us. I can see why I might be a topic in the dragons' gossip mill," she mused.

Her ears flicked as she thought over the situation with Marius. "Shen Long might have you come in there, if he feels the timing's right. I don't know, but there will be something we can all learn from this, I'm sure," she admitted.

[Karl the Mad]

The kid was fine. Good. That eased some part of the racing panicky guilt he felt, which was a relief even though it made room for the Noise. And fresh air, yes, that sounded more than fine. He nodded emphatically to Long, indicating his enthusiasm for the radio tower and the fresh air to be found there.

But when Enlil's voice came over the line, something seemed to snap, in a good way though. He sucked another sharp breath in, and his eyes rapidly drew into focus. "Enlil, yes," he replied, not quite at ease but closer than he had been, just a split second ago. "I..."

He wanted to just dump it all out on the table, let everyone consider and scoff at it. But the words died in his throat even as he went to say them. Something about Enlil's casual approach seemed to demand a casual response, and all of a sudden he had a new perspective on Shield's constant bantering and sarcasm. Plus there were people around, and it wouldn't do to act all sappy with witnesses. I'll try that for myself, then, he decided, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in China at the moment," he began, more lightly than he felt. "Now I feel silly, but as long as you're up..." He feigned a sigh. "I was with Shen Long, see, and he had me sparring with one of his students, Miranda... Robertson? Is that right?" He glanced at Aspasia inquiringly. "The little girl who got Joyful Death. Anyway, it..."

A pause. He suspected they all thought something about Miranda had triggered the episode, but that wasn't right at all. Miranda wasn't a threat to him, not with practice swords. Had it been his own boredom with the little match? Playing nice with the squishy mortal? Suitably demeaning, but it didn't feel totally accurate either...

Ugh, he couldn't think about it clearly, not with the Noise still buzzing malevolently in his head and the room pressing in on him. "Give me a moment or two, would you? I need some water. And to step outside..." He put the phone away from his ear for a second. "There was a water cooler in the office outside, wasn't there?" he asked of Long. Or was there one in here? He put the phone back to his ear while looking about. "You still there? It shames me to admit it, but I had sort of a breakdown and almost did something we'd all regret. The Noise, it grew overpowering for a moment, and..."

He shook his head impatiently. "Look, the point is I'm all wound up and emotional and I... I just want to punch something! As hard as I can! Something that can take it, and maybe even punch back! And, well, you came to mind in the heat of the moment, and fortunately you're one of my emergency contacts, but you're clear away in China! So now what?"

[IamLEAM1983]

Having caught part of the conversation, Shen placed a water bottle from his own fridge within Marius' sight. Its seal was already broken and it had apparently been frozen while only partly filled, so that the water that had been placed back in it floated atop a rather chunky mass of ice, to keep things as fresh as possible. The dragon then extended a hand, suggesting Marius could follow him to the radio tower whenever he'd be ready to stand up.

As for Enlil, he added a sigh of obvious empathy. "You didn't break yourself in for the day, yet - I understand. Shen Long's not yet in the kind of shape that would let him tolerate your going full-bore on him, either - not to mention any prospective property damage... I'd suggest calling Shamus - er, Bucky - over at Magnus Tower, but there's a risk you'd tear out some pipes or at least wrench a few plates open... Hm..."

The vampire clicked his tongue. "On the short term, you could see if there's anyone in Long's list of contacts or his clients for the day - anyone suitably old, or at least someone who's an angel or a demon. We're still going to have to work on this, though. Eventually, this needs to take the shape of a jog or a normal boxing round. Otherwise, my flight back to Vienna's an open ticket and Forsythe can't bitch if I add a shuttle ride back to Rhode Island in my personal expenses. I can be in Hope by the end of the afternoon, if you really think I should be there."

Coat hangers were heard clinking along their metal pole. "I feel I owe you an explanation, at least. The worldwide ley line reset's woken up some odd Qin Dynasty holdovers that defy easy classification. I called Lucifer to see if he knew anything about energy vampires, but the jiangshi look like they're just choosing to co-opt the word vampire for themselves. They fit in better with liches - different manifestations of negatively-charged via, similar result. Our Celestial contacts are confused - it's like these guys are in Heaven and down here at the same time. Our specialists are a bit more grounded: they say these people's six huns went to Heaven and the seven pos stayed rooted in their bodies. Pos are all yang energy - negative via - and they're all of these persons' negative traits bundled together without the good parts to balance them out - or something..."

He huffed out a breath. "Anyway. I was in China to liaise with them if we could, bind them if we couldn't, using some local Confucian warlocks as backup and a Karthian to work past the language barrier - and blow them to smithereens if push came to shove... We had twelve specimens, I killed three, helped to bind eight, and the last one agreed to go back to sleep while we transport him to Vienna. We're still looking at polygraph testing, some sociohistorical interviews to figure out how much Prime Minister Li Si knows, and with which support contacts we could place him..."

Enlil grunted. "I have a bad feeling, Marius. Li was too helpful, not combative enough. He stopped trying to drain Doctor Kostya as soon as we told him no in Mandarin, and it became obvious fairly quickly that he just worked off of our expressions, seeing as he only speaks Han Chinese in its dialectal form from around 210 BC..."

A pause. "So you've got context, now, at least. My troubleshooting job's done, and now I'm all yours. Technically."

* * *

"That would be in keeping with him, yes," agreed the demon, who also looked back at the door. "I first started to come here figuring someone like him could put me through my paces, clear my mind better than the exercise yard back in the Row. I've been coming here once a week since my sentence started, and it's mostly just been tai chi, a lot of good tea and some casual chats. I think he figured out I was actually less, um, punchy than I thought I was, and that I'm more the type to try and rationalize my entire journey."

He sighed lightly. "It's been good, so far. I used to be disappointed with everything I'd done prior to being roped in with the good guys by Lucifer, now I can sort of see it all as having been preparatory, somehow."

A shrug was added. "I actually cared about this place even while trying to install some sort of cult of personality, and figuring out I had to earn your trust didn't bother me too much, honestly. I want to come back here as a civilian, someday - maybe rejoin the political circuit so the local Infernal refugees have a voice with the City Council. I know I'm barred from public office until an angel or Rhadamantus says otherwise, but I can still attend town halls and do what I can so that everyone here feels as welcomed as I do."

Allocer paused for an instant. "I'm still a Duke of Pride on paper, only now my liege is a local attorney that's seemingly immune to the courtroom's stress and who drives to meet his clients using a chauffered Rolls-Royce. Now nobody can be around Herbert for more than five minutes without feeling like a million bucks. He's basically Azazel's inverted twin! An actual Vice being twisted around to its positive form is having an effect on anyone like me who used to swear fealty to the Black Goat and who survived the war - I feel deeply invested in what we're building together, even if all I can do for now is comment on it from my cell."