McKinley shook his head amiably. "Call me naïve, but you'd expect those of our age and power to have some advantage over the common folk. More time. More experiences to lean on, more acquired wisdom..."
Vernon shrugged in allowance. "To a degree, yes. Not many mortals alive can fence the way I can, or would even view an umbrella as a valid weapon. Even England's royals have never needed to preside over a court of supernaturally gifted individuals, so that would be another boon of us Haskills or McHales."
Atticus chose to perceive that as assent. "I'm glad to see someone here sees reason, Milord. I-
- But that sells the one advantage of immortality rather short, to be honest," then cut in Vernon. "That would be perspective. Hopefully, perspective enough to avoid claiming those lofty heights of yours; perspective enough to understand that my nobility is not determined by my bank account or my sticking to morning coats when Business Casual now is the order of the day."
An eyebrow quirked. "Perspective enough to understand that some problems require a group to be solved - and a group pulled from a wide massing of sociopolitical stratas. Old money pooling itself in with others only results in more old money."
Eir smirked at that. "The Jabberwock himself is one of our esteemed citizens," she told Atticus, "and he's madder than his tale's March Hare. He's also rich, although he's never realized it. Money is this... odd concept he can't quite grasp, just a little South of bartering, East of stealing... Old money doesn't necessarily equate to being a savvy spendthrift, mister McKinley. Your friends' shared initiatives might make House Republicans drool, but they'd bite the hands feeding them if they only knew you seem intent to take us back to the halcyon days of feudal estates."
The silver-haired Fae tried to go for a debonair chuckle. "See, now, Miss McHale; I-"
The slow, rythmic sounds of Bucky gulping down the fruit salad bowl's juice contents were interrupted with said bowl being loudly slammed back down on the table, a moderate belch escaping his lips along with a plume of renewed steam.
"Why don'tcha tell us exactly what it is Sharpe wants you to barter, hm? Save us some time; you and I both know you're not here out of your own dang free will. You'd have spat in Eirean's face a dozen times already if y'didn't need to keep face. Try it - let's see some real politics, for a change."
Atticus couldn't have looked more infuriated, or more contrite. His Oath obviously hung heavily in the balance, the smile he gave Shamus as sweet as a pan of condensed milk, even as his eyes stared daggers behind the expert imitation of a friendly twinkle in his eye.
* * *
Three nodded. "Right, and you're a selkie. Longer life stages on the whole. The plot thickens, as Archie might say."
He paused, frowned, and dug in his pocket for his phone, only to scoff. Meris might spot what looked like a group SMS conversation Drake had labelled Squid Central on his phone:
CUTHBERT: On my way, Aidan.
ME: I... didn't text you, Will... Oo;
CUTHBERT: No, you didn't. ^^
CUTHBERT: I received a Poke, is what the kids would say.
BERTRAM: That's a Facebook thing. Nobody's Poked anybody on Facebook since 2023. Messenger's dead, Cuthbert.
CUTHBERT: I'm sorry if God didn't it see it fitting to keep me tech-savvy (eye-roll Emoji).
JUBAL: So you received a sign and are on your way. Why do you need to make everything so mysterious?
CUTHBERT: Why do you end your shootouts with so much gravitas, Whitney? Coins and prayers and all?
JUBAL: ...
JUBAL: Touché.
BERTRAM: (custom Emoji of a Chibi Chtulhu gleefully pointing at something offscreen, Anime tears of joy included)
LUCIAN: SMILEY FACE.
LUCIAN: no
LUCIAN: :t
LUCIAN: Siri how do i use the little pictures
ME: You wouldn't know we're serious by this chat history. -.-
Looking back up, Drake smiled mirthlessly - or perhaps self-deprecatingly.
"Cuthbert's on his way."
Chapter V - Brimstone
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Neasa sipped her coffee coquettishly all the while offering Atticus a sharkish smile. "Well, I know I can speak freely in the presence of the Lady and the Lord, and my ego doesn't need to play a part in any of this as I've helped to defend the city from threats. However, I'm still me. I do what I do to help people, not some ridiculously misguided ideology that entices me to think me better than mundanes. All the words coming from my lips are unfiltered and uncensored, no Oath needed by either of them. A rather snazzy ideal of freedom, eh?" she said saccharinely.
*~*~*
Meris took a peek at Aidan's text chat and and chuckled. "Oh, Lucian..." she mumured with a sigh. "Good to know everyone's in the loop, albeit awkwardly," she said to both men.
*~*~*
Meris took a peek at Aidan's text chat and and chuckled. "Oh, Lucian..." she mumured with a sigh. "Good to know everyone's in the loop, albeit awkwardly," she said to both men.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
McKinley looked like Neasa had punched him, but also as though some greater bond were holding him back. His smile felt like more of an involuntary spasm. He looked back to Eirean in alarm. "Now, I don't know what your friend here is playing at, Milady, but I'm not sure I-"
The businesswoman smiled. "You know what, Atticus? I think you're owed a little foolhardiness. You're looking like you have deeply-held opinions to verbalize, and I hate it when my authority doesn't give my guests the tribune they're owed. I release you from my bonds to me, Milord."
Hostility bloomed in McKinley's features even as he shivered, perhaps as a side effect of his Oath being lifted. He stood up, rounded the table and went to stand directly in front of Neasa.
"Listen, here, you snot-nosed phocine twerp; I was sent here by an overreaching fool who mistakenly believes you Northerners would want to extend an olive branch while the world burns. Phineas Sharpe thinks y'all got Holden's patience and gentility, like y'aint gonna wear those wits of yours on your goddamned sleeves - as if those demons out there in the mortal plane ain't reason enough for y'all to put up some defenses. I knew you'd be squirrelly, I knew you wouldn't see eye-to-eye: y'ain't never met a true Fae in your lifetimes, great and terrible like I know them. Mab? Morgana? They'd tear up that Goat o' yours into pieces for breakfast. From where I'm standin', that gives ya one recourse, McConmara: get your apes in line with us, 'cause when the time comes, we'll make ya wish you didn't kick Pitspawn ass so good."
A canvas-covered shaft came into view below Neasa's chin, meant to separate the both of them. Vernon radiated cold, his eyebrows and hairline both completely frosted over, his clothes crackling as frost broke and re-formed in the same instant.
"One does not threaten my guests in my house," he said, his voice eerily calm.
McKinley sighed, gritted his teeth, and then nodded. "Y'all need to know, see what we're capable of under Morgana's gaze - see what you'd want as an ally, and not an enemy. Lord Haskill, I invoke the right to issue a challenge."
Contempt quietly surged out of the Winter Lord. "You wouldn't last twenty seconds, Summer wastrel. Reassure me. Tell me the challenge is issued to my Lady. The grace of May against the cruel heat of July."
Atticus chuckled meanly. "No. I issue the challenge to Neasa McConmara."
Bucky almost immediately stood up, as if the visiting Lord's words had pushed a lever somewhere within. "Not on my watch, you don't-!"
Eir came closer and placed a placating hand on Shamus's arm. "You know the Old Ways, Bucky; as much as Archie does. You know you can't intervene. The challenge was issued to Neasa, and Neasa alone."
Eir's look to the selkie had the appearances of an unspoken warning. "He'll take offense if you refuse. Consider your next words carefully."
* * *
Three smirked briefly. "Lucian prefers to stick to emails, Bertram abhors them. Jubal's somewhere in-between, he's put it in his head to initiate me to what he calls real Western music. Dave brought up Garth Brooks as an example, Whitney looked like he'd been slapped in the face. The most modern stuff he tolerates is Johnny Cash."
A few seconds later, the front door was distantly heard opening, Archie and Cuthbert exchanging a few pleasantries as they made their way to Aidan's office. Seeing as he hadn't had the time to remove his overcoat, William had settled with removing his rubber shoe covers and draping his coat over his arm.
"Hello, Meris," he said, smiling behind his tentacles as he went for a typically European exchange of quick little pecks on their respective cheekbones. "You're looking well."
Then came Aidan, to whom he offered a handshake. "Drake - not too swamped, I hope?"
Nickar the tailor demon went for a slightly coquettish poke of his own shoulder. "I'm the least of his problems, Sir Knight, going from what I've heard so far. I'm a one-shot bus pass away from Magnus Tower and being out of his hair."
Cuthbert looked sympathetic as he took a seat. "Paperwork, hm?
- It's the planar merger's real foe," groused the soldier. "Immigrants need a roof over their head, a job, safety... The one bonus with having demons as dependents is they're all super-qualified for their field of work. In Nick's case, we're looking at centuries' worth of sartorial design.
- Unfortunately for me," said the demon, "I'm in the one field that's about to turn grossly practical in short order. Not that I should complain, honestly. Work is work, so long as I'm not doing said work for the Goat or Dantalion."
Three filled in another slip of paper and handed it to the demon. "Double-check Melmoth's Veil and then use this at the closest drug store or post office. You'll get your picture taken - ask for the Passport format - and get your bus pass processed. If you're planning on going from a fill-as-you-go to a monthly pass, you'll have to call HTA and give them your user ID. Magnus Tower's the last stop on the Yellow line, going Northeast."
Nickar stood up after shaking Aidan's hand. "Much obliged, mister Drake. I'd owe you a debt, if I'd been summoned here.
- Don't mention it," dismissively replied Aidan. "I have enough on my plate with the Fae's honor system, I don't need demons holding onto life boons or whatever."
The demon smirked at Meris as he made his way out. "I know someone who'd disagree with you... Sometimes, the people who owe you are glad of it. Just ask the Heiress of Solomon."
The businesswoman smiled. "You know what, Atticus? I think you're owed a little foolhardiness. You're looking like you have deeply-held opinions to verbalize, and I hate it when my authority doesn't give my guests the tribune they're owed. I release you from my bonds to me, Milord."
Hostility bloomed in McKinley's features even as he shivered, perhaps as a side effect of his Oath being lifted. He stood up, rounded the table and went to stand directly in front of Neasa.
"Listen, here, you snot-nosed phocine twerp; I was sent here by an overreaching fool who mistakenly believes you Northerners would want to extend an olive branch while the world burns. Phineas Sharpe thinks y'all got Holden's patience and gentility, like y'aint gonna wear those wits of yours on your goddamned sleeves - as if those demons out there in the mortal plane ain't reason enough for y'all to put up some defenses. I knew you'd be squirrelly, I knew you wouldn't see eye-to-eye: y'ain't never met a true Fae in your lifetimes, great and terrible like I know them. Mab? Morgana? They'd tear up that Goat o' yours into pieces for breakfast. From where I'm standin', that gives ya one recourse, McConmara: get your apes in line with us, 'cause when the time comes, we'll make ya wish you didn't kick Pitspawn ass so good."
A canvas-covered shaft came into view below Neasa's chin, meant to separate the both of them. Vernon radiated cold, his eyebrows and hairline both completely frosted over, his clothes crackling as frost broke and re-formed in the same instant.
"One does not threaten my guests in my house," he said, his voice eerily calm.
McKinley sighed, gritted his teeth, and then nodded. "Y'all need to know, see what we're capable of under Morgana's gaze - see what you'd want as an ally, and not an enemy. Lord Haskill, I invoke the right to issue a challenge."
Contempt quietly surged out of the Winter Lord. "You wouldn't last twenty seconds, Summer wastrel. Reassure me. Tell me the challenge is issued to my Lady. The grace of May against the cruel heat of July."
Atticus chuckled meanly. "No. I issue the challenge to Neasa McConmara."
Bucky almost immediately stood up, as if the visiting Lord's words had pushed a lever somewhere within. "Not on my watch, you don't-!"
Eir came closer and placed a placating hand on Shamus's arm. "You know the Old Ways, Bucky; as much as Archie does. You know you can't intervene. The challenge was issued to Neasa, and Neasa alone."
Eir's look to the selkie had the appearances of an unspoken warning. "He'll take offense if you refuse. Consider your next words carefully."
* * *
Three smirked briefly. "Lucian prefers to stick to emails, Bertram abhors them. Jubal's somewhere in-between, he's put it in his head to initiate me to what he calls real Western music. Dave brought up Garth Brooks as an example, Whitney looked like he'd been slapped in the face. The most modern stuff he tolerates is Johnny Cash."
A few seconds later, the front door was distantly heard opening, Archie and Cuthbert exchanging a few pleasantries as they made their way to Aidan's office. Seeing as he hadn't had the time to remove his overcoat, William had settled with removing his rubber shoe covers and draping his coat over his arm.
"Hello, Meris," he said, smiling behind his tentacles as he went for a typically European exchange of quick little pecks on their respective cheekbones. "You're looking well."
Then came Aidan, to whom he offered a handshake. "Drake - not too swamped, I hope?"
Nickar the tailor demon went for a slightly coquettish poke of his own shoulder. "I'm the least of his problems, Sir Knight, going from what I've heard so far. I'm a one-shot bus pass away from Magnus Tower and being out of his hair."
Cuthbert looked sympathetic as he took a seat. "Paperwork, hm?
- It's the planar merger's real foe," groused the soldier. "Immigrants need a roof over their head, a job, safety... The one bonus with having demons as dependents is they're all super-qualified for their field of work. In Nick's case, we're looking at centuries' worth of sartorial design.
- Unfortunately for me," said the demon, "I'm in the one field that's about to turn grossly practical in short order. Not that I should complain, honestly. Work is work, so long as I'm not doing said work for the Goat or Dantalion."
Three filled in another slip of paper and handed it to the demon. "Double-check Melmoth's Veil and then use this at the closest drug store or post office. You'll get your picture taken - ask for the Passport format - and get your bus pass processed. If you're planning on going from a fill-as-you-go to a monthly pass, you'll have to call HTA and give them your user ID. Magnus Tower's the last stop on the Yellow line, going Northeast."
Nickar stood up after shaking Aidan's hand. "Much obliged, mister Drake. I'd owe you a debt, if I'd been summoned here.
- Don't mention it," dismissively replied Aidan. "I have enough on my plate with the Fae's honor system, I don't need demons holding onto life boons or whatever."
The demon smirked at Meris as he made his way out. "I know someone who'd disagree with you... Sometimes, the people who owe you are glad of it. Just ask the Heiress of Solomon."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
All of the previous coquettishness had left the selkie's features, replaced by a steely gaze. While she wasn't of Winter, there was a strange coldness to her physique. She rose from her chair and quietly slid it under the table while maintaining eye contact with the visiting Lord. "I'm not going to refuse his challenge," she responded to the Countess. "However, even a challenge is technically a contract. If being in Shield has taught me anything so far, I want to know what the stipulations and the fine print of the challenge are before we proceed."
*~*~*
"Good point, Nickar, and best wishes on your new life," Meris responded. The Heiress then glanced over at Three. "Like Fae, demons work with a system of reciprocity. Most of the time, people are familiar with the heinous deals met out by the Goat and the Princes. Though, with demons like Nickar and others, it gives them a genuine sense of purpose, of being needed. It's a bit like how you feel after doing something good for someone else. One good turn deserves another and all that. I was similarly owed by Azorthagal after I exorcised the imp possessing a woman with stage 4 cancer. The downgrade to a stage 1 also garnered his favor in helping out by giving me a boon that will be useful in knocking Chambers down a few pegs, healthwise down the line."
*~*~*
"Good point, Nickar, and best wishes on your new life," Meris responded. The Heiress then glanced over at Three. "Like Fae, demons work with a system of reciprocity. Most of the time, people are familiar with the heinous deals met out by the Goat and the Princes. Though, with demons like Nickar and others, it gives them a genuine sense of purpose, of being needed. It's a bit like how you feel after doing something good for someone else. One good turn deserves another and all that. I was similarly owed by Azorthagal after I exorcised the imp possessing a woman with stage 4 cancer. The downgrade to a stage 1 also garnered his favor in helping out by giving me a boon that will be useful in knocking Chambers down a few pegs, healthwise down the line."
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
McKinley smiled meanly. "You can rest easy, little miss. You agreeing means I can't kill you; but this ain't an Oath. I can hurt you - badly - at that, so it's up to ya to show me how it is you're gonna pull through without the South's help. I'll push ya to your limit..."
Vernon cut in. "A challenge issued in my house requires a referee. Bring miss McConmara to obvious distress, and the challenge is over by my decree. Shed her blood, and the challenge ends. Break a limb and the challenge ends."
He stepped closer to McKinley, plumes of frost leaving his mouth. "The challenge ends - and I send your head back to Savannah. In a box. This isn't an Oath, good sir, this is a threat issued with the full weight of House Christmas' Mantle."
Atticus looked enraged. "You're goddamn lucky you've got Oberon's ear, Haskill - you an' your progressive nonsense. Lies an' flimflam, as though you're not glad y'got yourself this here mansion, those clothes, your title... You're no man of the people, you're just another Old Country fop with the same old delusions."
The tip of Haskill's umbrella rested against McKinley's sternum. "I earned my Lordship, McKinley. Can you say the same? Save your strength for the girl. You'll need it."
The look he sent to Neasa was a low and hungry one as he stepped aside the gestured imperiously to the side. "Clear the room - I like my tussles messy," he said. He didn't take his eyes off of the selkie as he removed his jacket and necktie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. A low, steady heat wave seemed to radiate from him, making his features dance behind an out-of-place summer haze. That blurriness seemed to obfuscate his apparent age, making Atticus look like a silver-haired whip of a man, like a young man in his twenties with odd liver spots. His Mantle was clearly rejuvenating him to a degree, his posture changing by increments to affect increasing amounts of physical confidence.
He then took two almost dancelike steps towards Neasa and kicked himself off the floor, white linens flashing in a forming scissor kick, his left heel coming down on McComara's head in a blur.
* * *
Three nodded. "Right - I think you mentioned that happening already. I just haven't met a lot of demons who care about share-and-share-alike."
Cuthbert smirked at that. "Me neither, and then you introduced me to Melmoth. There's a difference between adhering to a system out of tradition and doing it out of genuine care. Tom's one of them, from what I've seen. He's taken the tainted need for affection of his peers and turned it into something that feels just as Godly as any other romantic inclination I've been witness to."
That piqued Drake's interest. "You're almost pushing fifty. I know Squids can knock around for a while, but haven't you looked?"
William smiled bashfully. "No - I haven't. Besides, my relationship with the Church and the Order of Saint George is a full-time one. I wasn't sworn to celibacy, but the Almighty's Creation requires a constant vigil. When I'm not catfishing warlords or the heads of small narco-states wish the appearances of being some unscrupulous investor, my sword is drawn for causes like yours. I wouldn't be fit for fatherhood - this is the longest posting I've ever had. I'm usually all over the map. Children need attentive fathers."
Three wasn't deterred. "What about retirement?
- That's a long ways off," laughed the Knight. "I'm a Void Weaver, I'm in my prime and the Lord seems to be sustaining me... I think I'm in it for a few centuries, if I can avoid unfortunate outcomes."
The paladin then side-eyed the young man. "You're deflecting, though. You're never as chatty as when you're trying to avoid something, Aidan."
That left Drake to groan. "Yeah, I was about to ask you to help me out with a project I've got. Anton's about to make me as efficient a lucid dreamer as your people can be, and I'd like to at least get a bead on Nereus."
Cuthbert caught on. "Right. You need a seasoned architect for your first time, and you need Meris' memories of Nereus to so much as find him in the Darkhallow's expanse. We'll have to daisy-chain our respective sanctuaries, but you haven't so much as formed yours yet."
Three nodded. "Yeah - and I'm scared. I've got dark stuff in there, I don't want to inconvenience either you or Meris."
The former Arbiter caught the human's apprehension and laid a blue-tinged hand on his. "Don't worry. You're in good hands."
Anton, in the meantime, clicked his tongue. "Welp - no time like the present!" he said, drawing some liquid from the vial and rather unceremoniously jabbing Aidan in the neck with his syringe. Drake barely had time to register Anton's presence at his side, even as Smirnov drew his service revolver and barked for the Squid to raise his hands.
"What?! Ant- don't-"
Uncomfortable heat quickly matured to a thunderclap headache that left the human almost doubling down on his desk.
"Aaaauggh, Anton, you jackass!"
Azardad pouted. "Relax, it's just your brain being rewired," he said. To the German Shepherd, he replied with a shrug. "Kill me, cuff me, and I won't be able to help if he pops an aneurysm."
The dog grunted. "Goddamnit - I'll make sure you lose your license! You'll never work in this town again, if I can help it!
- I'll get another one within the week," nonchalantly replied the Squid.
Vernon cut in. "A challenge issued in my house requires a referee. Bring miss McConmara to obvious distress, and the challenge is over by my decree. Shed her blood, and the challenge ends. Break a limb and the challenge ends."
He stepped closer to McKinley, plumes of frost leaving his mouth. "The challenge ends - and I send your head back to Savannah. In a box. This isn't an Oath, good sir, this is a threat issued with the full weight of House Christmas' Mantle."
Atticus looked enraged. "You're goddamn lucky you've got Oberon's ear, Haskill - you an' your progressive nonsense. Lies an' flimflam, as though you're not glad y'got yourself this here mansion, those clothes, your title... You're no man of the people, you're just another Old Country fop with the same old delusions."
The tip of Haskill's umbrella rested against McKinley's sternum. "I earned my Lordship, McKinley. Can you say the same? Save your strength for the girl. You'll need it."
The look he sent to Neasa was a low and hungry one as he stepped aside the gestured imperiously to the side. "Clear the room - I like my tussles messy," he said. He didn't take his eyes off of the selkie as he removed his jacket and necktie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. A low, steady heat wave seemed to radiate from him, making his features dance behind an out-of-place summer haze. That blurriness seemed to obfuscate his apparent age, making Atticus look like a silver-haired whip of a man, like a young man in his twenties with odd liver spots. His Mantle was clearly rejuvenating him to a degree, his posture changing by increments to affect increasing amounts of physical confidence.
He then took two almost dancelike steps towards Neasa and kicked himself off the floor, white linens flashing in a forming scissor kick, his left heel coming down on McComara's head in a blur.
* * *
Three nodded. "Right - I think you mentioned that happening already. I just haven't met a lot of demons who care about share-and-share-alike."
Cuthbert smirked at that. "Me neither, and then you introduced me to Melmoth. There's a difference between adhering to a system out of tradition and doing it out of genuine care. Tom's one of them, from what I've seen. He's taken the tainted need for affection of his peers and turned it into something that feels just as Godly as any other romantic inclination I've been witness to."
That piqued Drake's interest. "You're almost pushing fifty. I know Squids can knock around for a while, but haven't you looked?"
William smiled bashfully. "No - I haven't. Besides, my relationship with the Church and the Order of Saint George is a full-time one. I wasn't sworn to celibacy, but the Almighty's Creation requires a constant vigil. When I'm not catfishing warlords or the heads of small narco-states wish the appearances of being some unscrupulous investor, my sword is drawn for causes like yours. I wouldn't be fit for fatherhood - this is the longest posting I've ever had. I'm usually all over the map. Children need attentive fathers."
Three wasn't deterred. "What about retirement?
- That's a long ways off," laughed the Knight. "I'm a Void Weaver, I'm in my prime and the Lord seems to be sustaining me... I think I'm in it for a few centuries, if I can avoid unfortunate outcomes."
The paladin then side-eyed the young man. "You're deflecting, though. You're never as chatty as when you're trying to avoid something, Aidan."
That left Drake to groan. "Yeah, I was about to ask you to help me out with a project I've got. Anton's about to make me as efficient a lucid dreamer as your people can be, and I'd like to at least get a bead on Nereus."
Cuthbert caught on. "Right. You need a seasoned architect for your first time, and you need Meris' memories of Nereus to so much as find him in the Darkhallow's expanse. We'll have to daisy-chain our respective sanctuaries, but you haven't so much as formed yours yet."
Three nodded. "Yeah - and I'm scared. I've got dark stuff in there, I don't want to inconvenience either you or Meris."
The former Arbiter caught the human's apprehension and laid a blue-tinged hand on his. "Don't worry. You're in good hands."
Anton, in the meantime, clicked his tongue. "Welp - no time like the present!" he said, drawing some liquid from the vial and rather unceremoniously jabbing Aidan in the neck with his syringe. Drake barely had time to register Anton's presence at his side, even as Smirnov drew his service revolver and barked for the Squid to raise his hands.
"What?! Ant- don't-"
Uncomfortable heat quickly matured to a thunderclap headache that left the human almost doubling down on his desk.
"Aaaauggh, Anton, you jackass!"
Azardad pouted. "Relax, it's just your brain being rewired," he said. To the German Shepherd, he replied with a shrug. "Kill me, cuff me, and I won't be able to help if he pops an aneurysm."
The dog grunted. "Goddamnit - I'll make sure you lose your license! You'll never work in this town again, if I can help it!
- I'll get another one within the week," nonchalantly replied the Squid.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Meris groaned at Anton's behavior and shook her head, then glancing at the German shepherd. "He's not kidding. Void Weavers can easily slip through society with a change of Flesh Masks and names. That's how they're able to live topside without anybody noticing," she explained.
The Archmage ventured over to the young man and rubbed his back. "It'll be okay, Aidan. Just breathe and relax. I know it's difficult, but it'll happen easier the less you resist," she said soothingly.
*~*~*
While she didn't have blur-like speed, Neasa managed to duck at enough of an angle to remove her head out of the range of his foot. At the same time, she gripped the nearest leg with her hands and tossed him across the room like a rag doll.
The Archmage ventured over to the young man and rubbed his back. "It'll be okay, Aidan. Just breathe and relax. I know it's difficult, but it'll happen easier the less you resist," she said soothingly.
*~*~*
While she didn't have blur-like speed, Neasa managed to duck at enough of an angle to remove her head out of the range of his foot. At the same time, she gripped the nearest leg with her hands and tossed him across the room like a rag doll.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
The cop looked like he had trouble accepting Meris' divulged explanation. "That- that isn't right! Not for us mundanes, or for anyone who's built up a name after the Accords were signed!"
Archie, who had remained silent while Cuthbert and the others spoke, settled with tapping a finger on his cane's hilt. "The righteousness of our deeds won't be readily apparent, Captain," he said. "Mister Azardad already spoke to us of the further changes to await Aidan, and I know better than to assume he would not know to wrench his way past a few plates of mine, if I were to attempt to restrain him. Void Weavers are now, and until further notice, as much a blessing as they are a curse. Things will only change once their Augur is brought to light."
The dog blinked. "If you're so clued-in, why aren't you out of it like some of the later homeless pop we've been forced to keep penned in shelters?"
Archie rounded Three's desk and placed a hand on one of the human's own. Grimacing, Three clasped his friend and team leader's tightly. "The knowledge we share has been paid for dearly," grimly said the Clank. "My memories of the Indian theater are forever tainted by them, Meris' own life took a turn for the worse under their sway, and not a day goes by that does not remind me how dreadfully easy it is for some of them to circumvent ethics and common decency."
He blinked. "Do not mistake my countenance in the face of mister Azardad's ministrations for acceptance, Captain. If this helps our group survive and thrive - if it protects this city - then it is a necessary sacrifice."
Anton bent down to stand closer to Aidan's bowed head. "Describe your status to me, Drake. I need to know if you're ready to be primed."
Three grimaced. "Fuck you!
- I can prime the Lexicon," replied Anton, "or I can let the nootropics take you in a direction you won't like - somewhere between sensory overload and the loss of your higher faculties. Your choice. If you wanted to know why Goliath was so intent on keeping these crated up, that's why."
A few seconds passed, Cuthbert sending a quiet, if rueful glance at the neurosurgeon. Drake then gasped.
"Fuck it - do it! I feel like my brains are gonna ooze straight out my ears!"
Anton then added his own hand on the nape of Three's neck. "Repeat after me: Aidan, Carrier, Asphodel, Venison, Panacea, Socrates."
Three did as instructed. Azardad nodded. "I'm going to add words in the Black Speech's dialectal portion. Nobody here is in any danger from hearing them; I just need you to repeat them to the best of your ability. Got it?"
After the human groaned in response, Anton spoke a few terms Meris, Drake and Cuthbert wouldn't have any trouble recognizing. They were some of the Black Speech's more esoteric and non-corruptive concepts, words and sentences that spoke of the Squids' initially clinical and contemptuous relationship with Order as a concept. They were still ususally employed by slave-owners as a way to gauge the enthrallment of their chattel - as a sort of calibration signal of sorts, to stabilize a recently upset brain. In Drake, they created a small tidal wave of ghostly sensory perceptions: sand-blasted adobe, a shade of gunmetal grey, the purr of an idling APC. The scent of a freshly bathed Void Weaver - or a freshly spawned one, as a scent Three couldn't possibly have perceived earlier. That, plus an oddly familiar musk: his family, processed olfactively. Something he'd always breathed in but never perceived.
Pain receded, a sense of otherness creeping in as awareness returned. He could smell Meris' concern, now. Was it how anthros processed the world? Would this even be permanent?
Slowly, Meris would realize that Three was telepathically connecting to her without being aware of it. What passed through didn't quite feel like a thought stream, and more like Delmar's sense of presence in her mind - here associated with someone else. An additional person slowly bloomed into her sensory perceptions, raw presence turning to an odd patch of beige and green that hovered almost protectively, somewhere behind Drake. Sounds were vaguely heard, as garbled as if radio static had been involved. As they repeated, definition slowly crept into the patch of colors. The vague lines of suggested tentacles appeared where a tan-colored head was taking shape. The voice wasn't quite Three's, not quite his sister's - but it felt close, somehow.
"...sense of self. It feels like I... just came up for air. Does that make sense? To whom am I speaking, right now? The one I came out of, or the one I first felt? I think I am - I think I was - part of Aidan's mind. Somehow. I spent a long time not being, dreaming of all the things Aidan passed through me. I can't see myself, though. What am I missing?"
There was a pause, then something like a chuckle. "Right - Camp Performance, in the bad old days... I'm missing a Theory of the Mind. A sense of Self. All those books in Psychology, pushed through so he'd find an answer... Part of me thinks he'd have been better off hitting Fuck It, blaming it all on shell shock or a fugue state - something concrete. Something to hold onto. An easy lie for the first few years. Freud, Lacan, Milgram - it's all there, just not consciously. A borderline high school dropout with a knack for Psychology..."
* * *
Being tossed back the way he'd come, trailing by the leg like a hapless Roman after being spun around by one of Obelix's better-looking inheritors, didn't look like it did Atticus any favors. Still, another flare-up of heat followed as he sailed across the room, and he managed to twist his spine both ways. Like a cat squirming in the air, he managed to right himself and to land with at least some modicum of grace, one of his knees impacting a bookcase with a hard crack. A few of Vernon's books tumbled and fell, along with what looked to be a small bust of Vernon's father, powdered wig exquisitely rendered in porcelain. The books merely thumped to the floor, but the bust didn't fare too well. A large portion of it was cracked and shattered aside, half of the face reduced to so much tiny debris.
Haskill looked impassible, while faint concern marked Eirean's features. She kept a hand on Bucky's forearm, the Clank's puffing chimneys and furrowed brows betraying his displeasure.
A grunt that sounded more determined than pained escaped McKinley. He'd landed on all fours, feet firmly wedged in the angle between the wall and floor; and used that as a starting block to propel himself forward. Old habits dying hard, his frontal charge turned out to be another feint. His last step took him right beside Neasa, right arm extended in what had to be a hopeful clothesline. With so much momentum in the gesture, it'd be difficult for the roane to turn that outstretched limb into a restraining hold.
Archie, who had remained silent while Cuthbert and the others spoke, settled with tapping a finger on his cane's hilt. "The righteousness of our deeds won't be readily apparent, Captain," he said. "Mister Azardad already spoke to us of the further changes to await Aidan, and I know better than to assume he would not know to wrench his way past a few plates of mine, if I were to attempt to restrain him. Void Weavers are now, and until further notice, as much a blessing as they are a curse. Things will only change once their Augur is brought to light."
The dog blinked. "If you're so clued-in, why aren't you out of it like some of the later homeless pop we've been forced to keep penned in shelters?"
Archie rounded Three's desk and placed a hand on one of the human's own. Grimacing, Three clasped his friend and team leader's tightly. "The knowledge we share has been paid for dearly," grimly said the Clank. "My memories of the Indian theater are forever tainted by them, Meris' own life took a turn for the worse under their sway, and not a day goes by that does not remind me how dreadfully easy it is for some of them to circumvent ethics and common decency."
He blinked. "Do not mistake my countenance in the face of mister Azardad's ministrations for acceptance, Captain. If this helps our group survive and thrive - if it protects this city - then it is a necessary sacrifice."
Anton bent down to stand closer to Aidan's bowed head. "Describe your status to me, Drake. I need to know if you're ready to be primed."
Three grimaced. "Fuck you!
- I can prime the Lexicon," replied Anton, "or I can let the nootropics take you in a direction you won't like - somewhere between sensory overload and the loss of your higher faculties. Your choice. If you wanted to know why Goliath was so intent on keeping these crated up, that's why."
A few seconds passed, Cuthbert sending a quiet, if rueful glance at the neurosurgeon. Drake then gasped.
"Fuck it - do it! I feel like my brains are gonna ooze straight out my ears!"
Anton then added his own hand on the nape of Three's neck. "Repeat after me: Aidan, Carrier, Asphodel, Venison, Panacea, Socrates."
Three did as instructed. Azardad nodded. "I'm going to add words in the Black Speech's dialectal portion. Nobody here is in any danger from hearing them; I just need you to repeat them to the best of your ability. Got it?"
After the human groaned in response, Anton spoke a few terms Meris, Drake and Cuthbert wouldn't have any trouble recognizing. They were some of the Black Speech's more esoteric and non-corruptive concepts, words and sentences that spoke of the Squids' initially clinical and contemptuous relationship with Order as a concept. They were still ususally employed by slave-owners as a way to gauge the enthrallment of their chattel - as a sort of calibration signal of sorts, to stabilize a recently upset brain. In Drake, they created a small tidal wave of ghostly sensory perceptions: sand-blasted adobe, a shade of gunmetal grey, the purr of an idling APC. The scent of a freshly bathed Void Weaver - or a freshly spawned one, as a scent Three couldn't possibly have perceived earlier. That, plus an oddly familiar musk: his family, processed olfactively. Something he'd always breathed in but never perceived.
Pain receded, a sense of otherness creeping in as awareness returned. He could smell Meris' concern, now. Was it how anthros processed the world? Would this even be permanent?
Slowly, Meris would realize that Three was telepathically connecting to her without being aware of it. What passed through didn't quite feel like a thought stream, and more like Delmar's sense of presence in her mind - here associated with someone else. An additional person slowly bloomed into her sensory perceptions, raw presence turning to an odd patch of beige and green that hovered almost protectively, somewhere behind Drake. Sounds were vaguely heard, as garbled as if radio static had been involved. As they repeated, definition slowly crept into the patch of colors. The vague lines of suggested tentacles appeared where a tan-colored head was taking shape. The voice wasn't quite Three's, not quite his sister's - but it felt close, somehow.
"...sense of self. It feels like I... just came up for air. Does that make sense? To whom am I speaking, right now? The one I came out of, or the one I first felt? I think I am - I think I was - part of Aidan's mind. Somehow. I spent a long time not being, dreaming of all the things Aidan passed through me. I can't see myself, though. What am I missing?"
There was a pause, then something like a chuckle. "Right - Camp Performance, in the bad old days... I'm missing a Theory of the Mind. A sense of Self. All those books in Psychology, pushed through so he'd find an answer... Part of me thinks he'd have been better off hitting Fuck It, blaming it all on shell shock or a fugue state - something concrete. Something to hold onto. An easy lie for the first few years. Freud, Lacan, Milgram - it's all there, just not consciously. A borderline high school dropout with a knack for Psychology..."
* * *
Being tossed back the way he'd come, trailing by the leg like a hapless Roman after being spun around by one of Obelix's better-looking inheritors, didn't look like it did Atticus any favors. Still, another flare-up of heat followed as he sailed across the room, and he managed to twist his spine both ways. Like a cat squirming in the air, he managed to right himself and to land with at least some modicum of grace, one of his knees impacting a bookcase with a hard crack. A few of Vernon's books tumbled and fell, along with what looked to be a small bust of Vernon's father, powdered wig exquisitely rendered in porcelain. The books merely thumped to the floor, but the bust didn't fare too well. A large portion of it was cracked and shattered aside, half of the face reduced to so much tiny debris.
Haskill looked impassible, while faint concern marked Eirean's features. She kept a hand on Bucky's forearm, the Clank's puffing chimneys and furrowed brows betraying his displeasure.
A grunt that sounded more determined than pained escaped McKinley. He'd landed on all fours, feet firmly wedged in the angle between the wall and floor; and used that as a starting block to propel himself forward. Old habits dying hard, his frontal charge turned out to be another feint. His last step took him right beside Neasa, right arm extended in what had to be a hopeful clothesline. With so much momentum in the gesture, it'd be difficult for the roane to turn that outstretched limb into a restraining hold.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
Neasa's counterattack didn't involve turning his clothesline technique into a restraining move, but she opted to take a page from his book of feints. The outstretched arm seemingly did the job by causing the roane to fall backwards, making it appear as though the back of her head was about to have an up-close and personal meeting with the floor. However, she managed to catch herself with her hands. Simultaneously, her booted foot came up in a kick and struck McKinley on the underside of his chin with enough force to send him skidding and skipping over the floor like a stone across a pond.
*~*~*
Only giving the cop a glance as she focused her attention on Aidan, Meris sighed. "I've been at this longer than most of them, and I'm not entirely sure. I might just be an anomaly, but perhaps it's merely the set of personal characteristics and circumstances that I have. However, for the meanwhile, it looks like I'm needing to somewhat resume my past role as a midwife for Aidan's roommate of sorts," she told him as the new consciousness linked with her mind.
Given that this was a burgeoning mind who would probably be helped by some calm and gentle guidance, she responded, "Hello, lad. I'm Meris, the person you're currently speaking to. And you're right in that you're taking your first breath, as you're essentially a newborn Void Weaver without the body. Though, I'd say you're more cognizant than most would be, from my experiences with my son. I imagine it's Aidan's mind that gave you a solid foothold, and now your mind's waking up and separating from his through your own development and Azardad's nootropic injection."
*~*~*
Only giving the cop a glance as she focused her attention on Aidan, Meris sighed. "I've been at this longer than most of them, and I'm not entirely sure. I might just be an anomaly, but perhaps it's merely the set of personal characteristics and circumstances that I have. However, for the meanwhile, it looks like I'm needing to somewhat resume my past role as a midwife for Aidan's roommate of sorts," she told him as the new consciousness linked with her mind.
Given that this was a burgeoning mind who would probably be helped by some calm and gentle guidance, she responded, "Hello, lad. I'm Meris, the person you're currently speaking to. And you're right in that you're taking your first breath, as you're essentially a newborn Void Weaver without the body. Though, I'd say you're more cognizant than most would be, from my experiences with my son. I imagine it's Aidan's mind that gave you a solid foothold, and now your mind's waking up and separating from his through your own development and Azardad's nootropic injection."
-
IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
There was a pause, along with the sense that the newborn intellect had briefly grown reflective. "This seems accurate enough - I feel like I'm parsing through Aidan's memories, his skills; and grafting bits of it as things come into focus. I remember being scared, not knowing myself - so I reached for his language-processing capabilities. I reached for his proprioception, the sense he has of his own body... I'm an infant connected to a wider network. It's allowed me to bypass what I can see is a normally painful ordeal."
The intellect seemed to dig a little deeper, to peer past Meris' basic defenses. "Pain... There's so much of it in both your lives, his and yours. It makes my coming to feel trivial, in comparison. I'm coming to now, but I was born in the moment that Drake destroyed that Void Weaver cell in Afghanistan."
Details crept into the being's silhouette. Lithe muscles, leaner than Aidan's, with an extra inch or two. A standard-issue US Army t-shirt and camo pants combo. Fingerless gloves and work boots. A pair of clear Oakley Tac-glasses over the short bridge of the Squid's nasal arch. The six tentacles gaining in definition, a lean and masculine jaw waiting underneath. The newborn looked young, like a freshly matured Void Weaver not yet distorted by the Others' depredations.
Despite the attire, the new presence didn't exactly seem warrior-like or aggressive. Its now formed and focused eyes were of a paler blue than Drake's, the pupils showing slight irregularities like Lucian's. It gave the Squid's glance an otherwordly quality, as though it could see more than Meris currently could. Empathy flashed in its eyes as it rested a hand on Three's neck. Immediately, the human stopped grimacing.
"It doesn't have to hurt," he said. "When it comes to what we can do, you control what your brain does, Aidan."
Drake paused, looking shocked. "Who - Who are you?
- I think you know," replied the new Squid. "We've been close for a long time, now."
Justifiably, Smirnov looked lost and confused, while Archie had grown to seeing silent exchanges between telepaths. He suspected Drake was undergoing some sort of co-conscious episode - something that left him to step aside and raise a patient eyebrow. "Care to introduce us, Aidan?"
Meris would see the new Squid helping Aidan sit straight again, Cuthbert looking as though he could sense something, at least. The Knight's gaze was fixed on the spot the newcomer occupied not knowing it sometimes stopped to meet his eyes.
Then, to the Archmage's eyes, the newcomer seemed to briefly massage Drake's neck with a few fingers. "Let's put everyone else on the same footing, hm? Come to think of it, I think we can extend an invitation to one of Meris' old friends."
Three seemed to catch on. "You won't be corporeal, though. We'll all see you, hear you - but you won't actually be there."
Azardad looked a little miffed that he wasn't included, but the newborn merely shrugged Aidan's mentioned problem aside. "Bagley spent a while existing as a consensual manifestation; cameras and eye-trackers and multidirectional speakers embedded throughout the mansion... The fact that most people didn't so much as hear him didn't matter, you did. You and everyone else here. You'll have a few years to think of Delmar and I as on-the-field covert ops, I suppose. As soon as I'm connected to everyone else, I can go to wherever one of you will have a clear line of sight. I can't hurt anyone or anything, nobody can so much as hurt me - for now, I'm barely anything more than a consensual hallucination."
The newborn then looked back to Meris. "See, part of Anton's base material for the Lexicon involves some of Nereus' DNA. I guess that makes you an aunt of mine - or something like that. Would you mind telling the others not to panic for me? I'm about to show my big brother how to create a network Karthian Archons would be jealous of - and I'm pulling Delmar out of his relative isolation."
Three frowned. "Won't that burn me out over time? Or Meris, for that matter? Her brain isn't made to project something to so many people at the same time."
The newcomer smiled. "That's where I come in - I being your Lexicon. I've been keeping myself powered through the light cones in your retinas and my patched nerve bundles that run along your nervous system. I don't need Meris' mind to run Delmar's consciousness for me; all I need is its data. I can read it from her mind and run it from your implant, sparing both of you the extra exertion you'd normally have to endure. With a deployed network, Meris won't even feel the strain of Delmar's own mind running parallel to hers."
A bit dumbfounded, Three looked back to Archie. "Um - Arch, the nonexistent individual that's keeping me steady in my chair is, well... He doesn't have a name yet. He's straight out of the Lexicon. Meris is the only one who can also see him, for now. That's about to change."
The newcomer smiled. "My family tree's complicated; I'd rather stick to the obvious route. I'm a Drake, after all, for all intents and purposes. Call me..."
He paused, looked away and then back at Meris. "Call me Samuel. Sam, if you'd like. It was the name of one of Gavin's uncles, Gavin being Aidan's
* * *
On the second impact, Atticus' grunt was mixed with a laugh.
"That's a good one!" he called out, sounding as raucous as if Neasa had instead landed one haymaker of a joke or pun. "Clearly this isn't your first bout, miss McConmara - you'd at least give one or two demons a good run before they'd catch ya winded and open!"
He chuckled as he stood up. "The problem is, you're a decent girl. You are - I can sense it from way over there, even with you havin' them fightin' eyes! Her mom and dad's pride, that's for damn sure! The one problem with bein' decent is-"
It all happened rather quickly, McKinley being across the room one moment and then directly in front of Neasa the next, his knuckles digging in with a series of short, almost embrace-like liver punches designed to bring about a sudden and paralyzing stab of pain. That last punch of his lingered as a sort of grotesque hug, as he pulled her in closer and whispered in her ear.
"Our common enemies won't play fair, girl. You've seen it, and you'll be surprised to know I have, too. We'll need Morgana's power to survive, as much as some of my Queen's own goals disturb me. On the other hand, though - I always liked the rush of it all."
He smiled sharkishly, using the pain he'd caused her as a means to shift his grip on her, briefly seizing her by the throat.
"Surprise me, girl. Stop playin' fair."
The intellect seemed to dig a little deeper, to peer past Meris' basic defenses. "Pain... There's so much of it in both your lives, his and yours. It makes my coming to feel trivial, in comparison. I'm coming to now, but I was born in the moment that Drake destroyed that Void Weaver cell in Afghanistan."
Details crept into the being's silhouette. Lithe muscles, leaner than Aidan's, with an extra inch or two. A standard-issue US Army t-shirt and camo pants combo. Fingerless gloves and work boots. A pair of clear Oakley Tac-glasses over the short bridge of the Squid's nasal arch. The six tentacles gaining in definition, a lean and masculine jaw waiting underneath. The newborn looked young, like a freshly matured Void Weaver not yet distorted by the Others' depredations.
Despite the attire, the new presence didn't exactly seem warrior-like or aggressive. Its now formed and focused eyes were of a paler blue than Drake's, the pupils showing slight irregularities like Lucian's. It gave the Squid's glance an otherwordly quality, as though it could see more than Meris currently could. Empathy flashed in its eyes as it rested a hand on Three's neck. Immediately, the human stopped grimacing.
"It doesn't have to hurt," he said. "When it comes to what we can do, you control what your brain does, Aidan."
Drake paused, looking shocked. "Who - Who are you?
- I think you know," replied the new Squid. "We've been close for a long time, now."
Justifiably, Smirnov looked lost and confused, while Archie had grown to seeing silent exchanges between telepaths. He suspected Drake was undergoing some sort of co-conscious episode - something that left him to step aside and raise a patient eyebrow. "Care to introduce us, Aidan?"
Meris would see the new Squid helping Aidan sit straight again, Cuthbert looking as though he could sense something, at least. The Knight's gaze was fixed on the spot the newcomer occupied not knowing it sometimes stopped to meet his eyes.
Then, to the Archmage's eyes, the newcomer seemed to briefly massage Drake's neck with a few fingers. "Let's put everyone else on the same footing, hm? Come to think of it, I think we can extend an invitation to one of Meris' old friends."
Three seemed to catch on. "You won't be corporeal, though. We'll all see you, hear you - but you won't actually be there."
Azardad looked a little miffed that he wasn't included, but the newborn merely shrugged Aidan's mentioned problem aside. "Bagley spent a while existing as a consensual manifestation; cameras and eye-trackers and multidirectional speakers embedded throughout the mansion... The fact that most people didn't so much as hear him didn't matter, you did. You and everyone else here. You'll have a few years to think of Delmar and I as on-the-field covert ops, I suppose. As soon as I'm connected to everyone else, I can go to wherever one of you will have a clear line of sight. I can't hurt anyone or anything, nobody can so much as hurt me - for now, I'm barely anything more than a consensual hallucination."
The newborn then looked back to Meris. "See, part of Anton's base material for the Lexicon involves some of Nereus' DNA. I guess that makes you an aunt of mine - or something like that. Would you mind telling the others not to panic for me? I'm about to show my big brother how to create a network Karthian Archons would be jealous of - and I'm pulling Delmar out of his relative isolation."
Three frowned. "Won't that burn me out over time? Or Meris, for that matter? Her brain isn't made to project something to so many people at the same time."
The newcomer smiled. "That's where I come in - I being your Lexicon. I've been keeping myself powered through the light cones in your retinas and my patched nerve bundles that run along your nervous system. I don't need Meris' mind to run Delmar's consciousness for me; all I need is its data. I can read it from her mind and run it from your implant, sparing both of you the extra exertion you'd normally have to endure. With a deployed network, Meris won't even feel the strain of Delmar's own mind running parallel to hers."
A bit dumbfounded, Three looked back to Archie. "Um - Arch, the nonexistent individual that's keeping me steady in my chair is, well... He doesn't have a name yet. He's straight out of the Lexicon. Meris is the only one who can also see him, for now. That's about to change."
The newcomer smiled. "My family tree's complicated; I'd rather stick to the obvious route. I'm a Drake, after all, for all intents and purposes. Call me..."
He paused, looked away and then back at Meris. "Call me Samuel. Sam, if you'd like. It was the name of one of Gavin's uncles, Gavin being Aidan's
* * *
On the second impact, Atticus' grunt was mixed with a laugh.
"That's a good one!" he called out, sounding as raucous as if Neasa had instead landed one haymaker of a joke or pun. "Clearly this isn't your first bout, miss McConmara - you'd at least give one or two demons a good run before they'd catch ya winded and open!"
He chuckled as he stood up. "The problem is, you're a decent girl. You are - I can sense it from way over there, even with you havin' them fightin' eyes! Her mom and dad's pride, that's for damn sure! The one problem with bein' decent is-"
It all happened rather quickly, McKinley being across the room one moment and then directly in front of Neasa the next, his knuckles digging in with a series of short, almost embrace-like liver punches designed to bring about a sudden and paralyzing stab of pain. That last punch of his lingered as a sort of grotesque hug, as he pulled her in closer and whispered in her ear.
"Our common enemies won't play fair, girl. You've seen it, and you'll be surprised to know I have, too. We'll need Morgana's power to survive, as much as some of my Queen's own goals disturb me. On the other hand, though - I always liked the rush of it all."
He smiled sharkishly, using the pain he'd caused her as a means to shift his grip on her, briefly seizing her by the throat.
"Surprise me, girl. Stop playin' fair."
-
TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone
After hearing Atticus' whispered provocation, her groan of pain slid into a deep-chested, snarling chuckle, her lips gaining their own sharkish quality. "Mon petit, the reason I've been playing so fair is your liver-spotted hide, Mantle or no Mantle, is still soft in comparison to that of Pitspawn and Abominations'," she whispered back in a hiss, then using their close proximity to grab hold of him and repeatedly ram her knee into his family jewels. It was strong enough to reach to the very core of his pelvic bones without cracking or shattering the bones there. To add to this, she threw a couple sound punches to give him a couple black eyes on each socket.
While he would have been dealing with her rather personal attack, Neasa picked him up and launched him in the direction of the Lord, Lady, and Bucky with just the right amount of torque that would prevent him from careening into them. A sudden sound of rushing footsteps would be heard by them as the strong woman hurried toward her improvised football, placing a foot down on his neck with enough pressure to make him pay attention but not suffocate him.
"Listen up, you bigoted bastard, no matter how much you try to goad me into showing my full strength, we aren't fucking siding with Morgana!" she seethed with bared teeth. "From what I've heard, she sounds as crazy and deluded as Mab! You're right in that we won't always be able to be fair on the battlefield, but we're sure as fuck not going to descend into your so-called justified horrors to keep us from oblivion or Hell's predations!"
*~*~*
"Er, yes," Meris responded with a scoff, opting to use the formal version of his name to prevent any confusion with Samigina. "Everyone, Aidan's brother of sorts, Samuel, is going to mentally project a connection that'll allow you to see and hear him. You'll also get to meet an old friend of mine named Delmar. So, please remain calm and enjoy the discussion," she said, feeling a bit like she was about to introducing some new-fangled form of theater.
While he would have been dealing with her rather personal attack, Neasa picked him up and launched him in the direction of the Lord, Lady, and Bucky with just the right amount of torque that would prevent him from careening into them. A sudden sound of rushing footsteps would be heard by them as the strong woman hurried toward her improvised football, placing a foot down on his neck with enough pressure to make him pay attention but not suffocate him.
"Listen up, you bigoted bastard, no matter how much you try to goad me into showing my full strength, we aren't fucking siding with Morgana!" she seethed with bared teeth. "From what I've heard, she sounds as crazy and deluded as Mab! You're right in that we won't always be able to be fair on the battlefield, but we're sure as fuck not going to descend into your so-called justified horrors to keep us from oblivion or Hell's predations!"
*~*~*
"Er, yes," Meris responded with a scoff, opting to use the formal version of his name to prevent any confusion with Samigina. "Everyone, Aidan's brother of sorts, Samuel, is going to mentally project a connection that'll allow you to see and hear him. You'll also get to meet an old friend of mine named Delmar. So, please remain calm and enjoy the discussion," she said, feeling a bit like she was about to introducing some new-fangled form of theater.