by IamLEAM1983 » Sat Apr 28, 2018 11:16 pm
As the group gathered its belongings, George couldn't quite stifle a smirk. "Considering how my origins paint me as a failed Build Your Own Machiavellian Schemer from the Loyalists' point of view, I suspect they tweaked a few things so I'd carry some of that verbose relish associated to classic evildoers. I came from the tail end of the Victorian era - a time rife with grandiose ne'er-do-wells, and the Order of Cosmic Machinists did honestly fancy themselves as would-be nemeses to figures like our own Archie Holden. All they needed was someone with the right basso, a billowing laugh and enough of a penchant for grotesquerie..."
Naberius grinned at that, while handshakes were exchanged with the King, Chamberlain and Queen. "What were they thinking, by the way? Those few records we found of your former self as a human toymaker paint you as a positively mild figure. Kind, unassuming, shockingly ordinary in temperament... You'd assume your shell's own skills as an engineer trumped all of what they would've considered to be defects."
Gammell had to shrug. "I think you just answered your own question, mister Naber. They took a gamble and assumed the vessel's skills would survive while its temperament would not. You might say they've lost; I simply wonder if I would have turned out the same way I have if my son had not entered my life. Boredom and isolation could very well have pushed me down darker paths."
Titania smiled reassuringly. "Despite all appearances, I am an optimist at heart. I've seen enough of Winter's hinterlands to know of several monsters with hearts of gold, so I would rather believe your son merely coaxed what was already there."
A faint shade of pink colored the small patches of skin left past George's lip corners, where human ears would normally be. He tilted his head and toothy maw in a way that appeared bashful. Titania's smile grew warmer. "Seems I've now met an adorable one, too," she said.
Agent Spector parted with an impressed whistle. "I was wondering when I'd get competition in that field... Of course, I've got a Veil worthy of a Rogaine commercial to fall back on."
Benson made his neck pop a few times. "That's about to end, Spector. Once the demons tear through the world's major cities and the survivors rebuild, we'll be all in for some extreme sensitivity training. Veils might fall out of use within a few weeks if that happens, or they might turn into Covert Ops spells nobody uses unless they need to impersonate someone. How are you gonna do once you'll be stuck applying to dating sites as Slender Man?"
The FBI agent parted with a self-motivating sigh. "That's a bridge we'll all have to cross when we get to it. I'm just glad I'm not a demon; they're the ones who'll have the biggest stigmas to overcome. It's the Chimeras all over again."
* * *
The Broker gave it some thought. "Okay, um... Just how phenomenal and-slash-or cosmic did I just get? Am I still largely focused on ridiculously good karma around myself and dishing out Murphy's Law to others, or can I expect myself to get all capable in a standard demonic throwdown?"
Volker frowned at that. "Yeah, about that, how do you fight, Othstein? You're chunky going on flabby with and without your shell, and you look like the type who'd spare tumescent groans for an Excel spreadsheet. I have a hard time imagining you sheltering anyone once shit goes down."
Melmoth parted with a sharp smirk and dug into his pocket, pulling out a quarter. "Hand me one of those coasters," he asked Abdiel, pointing as he did, "and one of these pens for your orders."
Once the items would've been proffered, Othstein etched a line straight down the middle of the back of one of the Club Ishtar coasters. One side was marked Heads, the other one Tails.
"Heads or Tails?" he asked Tom.
Shrugging, Magnus went for a tentative "Tails."
That done, Mel handed the quarter to Abdiel. "I know you're not the Metal Throne, but you probably know how I could've warmed up that coin to relocate some of the tin, more or less load it like you'd load a, well, loaded die. Can you heat it up a little, just so everything's nice, fair and even? I need a third party to see I'm not gonna cheat on this little demo, here."
Volker followed along even before the demo began. "You're saying you can influence the outcome of certain situations...
- Close," replied Othstein, "but no cigar! I don't do quantum shit, unfortunately, and I've never dared to push our involvement with mortals to the point where I rob 'em of Gabriel's much-vaunted free will. The fact is I can't influence shit - except for what happens to me. Tom chose Tails, so I'm gonna wanna make sure the coin falls on Heads every single time. The best part is, I don't even have to think about it! No spells, no via-gathering, no pulling stuff in from the local Nexus - it's such a low-power process you'd need to be a mage specialized in electronics or a moron like Zeb Buck to so much as feel my micro-feed."
Tom made a few deductions. "Hence the interest in speculative markets or gambling, then. You can't break the randomness factor for anyone but yourself - and if you do your job right, you can stomach a losing streak if it keeps suspicion low."
Melmoth clicked his tongue. "Right on the money, mister Warlock. Keeping interest rates climbing up in early banking institutions is one thing, cleaning house at the Bellagio without Security breathing down your neck is another. Y'gotta lose a few million to make a billion, I always say. On a defensive level, all I gotta do is make sure my ridiculous good luck rubs off on my people. If some crazed gunman aims for me and whiffs all his shots, then he's whiffed for everyone else who's in that room with me, too."