Chapter V - Brimstone

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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Aislinn openly rolled eyes at Valefor's claim about Wrath having dominion over the mortal plane. "Oh, please... We mortals can be wrathful shitheads all on our lonesome. We don't need angels or demons influencing us to be kind or cruel. Whatever sway you guys had over the millennia was just poking the fire in whichever way that you pleased," she responded.

Meris glanced John's way. "If you're referring to Merlin, it's not as though Archmages have conventions or send each other penpal letters, Mr. Smith. The only way I know of Merlin is through the stories I've heard of him, and it's probably vice versa for him as well." She then glanced at Aislinnn. "Besides, it seems the nexuses are starting their own sway on world events by empowering young supers and mages. They know something is up, so they're reacting to oncoming threats, regardless of what Heaven and Hell do."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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The mammoth looked up from his tablet. "I've financed a number of geological and oceanographic studies over the years, at Caliban's behest. A few of them focused on attempts at understanding the ways in which Nexuses appear almost self-aware. Our as-of-yet-unpublished educated guess is that the Earth is not so much sapient as it is aware. Our home senses the threats against it on an instinctive, primordial level, and generates antibodies of a sort. You're one of these defensive mechanisms, Mrs. McConmara."

He then eyed Valefor. "If you know me, you know my take on Wrath is reserved. My brother is the passionate one of us both, and even he tends to be of a gentle persuasion. I shutter divisions that displease me. I end careers or force ambitions to take different turns. I've taken lives during Elysium's invasion, but never again since. What you're taking part in goes against what I condone, even if I'm not so foolish as to claim I've never acted out of anger. That said, I owe it to the world to see to it that your gifts are tapped into."

Valefor smiled. "So says the man who was pushed through the jungles of Vietnam by the Smith patriarch...  You've killed, John Smith. You've known Wrath. You're simply one of the few paragons of my kind; able to contain the fury behind a fortress of ice. Wouldn't you like to finally discharge all that jealousy, all that contempt?"

Smith didn't look up from his tablet. "That way lies death," he said. "Or perdition, at the very least. We all want many things, demon. It doesn't entitle us to try and claim them - a fact which your allies are forgetting. When I want something, I work to obtain the right to claim it. People's talents, subsidiaries, social or political approval - all things to be worked towards.
- Which means you've never truly known yourself, in always being what others need you to be."

The mammoth chuckled meanly. "An interesting bit of sophistry. Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc. Honesty isn't some license to tear through my place of business, Valefor - and this world is my place of business."

Coach worked his jaw nervously. "We've at least got something from Wrath on the table, now. What's Pandemonium's offer?"

Bob looked up from the device. "Oh, um - me. Me and uh, a dozen or so other Sammaelites. They're around for now, or they will be once they get to picking bodies. I'm tossing in referrals with Seducers like Sariel, once shit dies down. We aren't all gonna push through this with our psyches intact. Plus, if Pandemonium's good at one thing, it's processing paperwork after world-shattering disasters. Our infrastructure's part of the deal, too. Our request, though, is that once peacetime settles in, our guys get to cross over. If the Vienna Accords get amended with us in it, I've got  a coupla thousand bean-counters with horns and rumpled neckties that've been looking for a vacation as of the past thousand years..."

Raguel pouted. "Seems fair, doesn't it?
- So long as they follow this plane's laws, I don't have any problems with it," allowed Gabriel. "That said, with recent amendments like the one mentioned, it'll be a few years before legally-settled Pandemonium natives feel included. Not every corner of the world is as welcoming as this one."

Three nodded. "We'll be there if there's any need. We can't be everywhere, but we'll do what we can to help."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Aspasia frowned thoughtfully as she surveyed the attendance. "Well, apart from Heaven's obligatory option to help as well, I think we have a general idea of what everyone is offering. Considering angels and demons will be working togethe, what kind of guarantee is there to keep some of the more fervent types from fighting each other?"

"Also, we haven't heard anything from Pride's side, and I sense that we probably won't, but ironing out the details in this agreement is important."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Bob eyed Gabriel in a way that felt casually complicit. "We're both mostly on the same side. Heaven's gonna provide its own example for whatever snobs they'll have onboard, and we'll do what we've always done in regards to the Pit."

He shrugged at Aislinn. "We'll treat you like equals, obey your laws - generally try and avoid coming across as jackasses. Both of our species are kinda likely to join the cops at some point, so we're gonna enforce the Pitspawn and Heaven's elitists whether they like it or not."

Valefor rolled his eyes. "We're setting ourselves up for a second Fall, I see..."

Gabriel tapped his placemat with his pen. "Well, perhaps that's needed. Someone needs to show Uriel there's more to Creation than our Maker's grace, and his supporters need to realize we're not about to turn into some sort of Jovialist take on a hermit state. Heaven doesn't mean anything without its contingent of mortal souls, and I think I speak for a wide massing in the Host if I say I'm not ready to go back to the way things were before you showed up," he said, looking at Aislinn. "Creation's time as a garden world was appreciated, but that's long passed. I can't imagine myself going back to having no duties to speak of; I care too much about this plane to discount it entirely based on its faults."

Belphegor chortled. "I, for one, like some of its faults, too!"

Raguel angled his head in allowance. "I'm not sure I'm up for Rip Van Winkle-ing through life, but I know how much we owe to the mortals wanting things to be easier."

Wormsworth tapped his pen on his own placemat. "I understand my former juniors will not appreciate my speaking on behalf of a Vice I have openly betrayed, but I believe I am as close to unaffected earnestness as I can be when I say I am still the most well-positioned of us to suss out the demands of the Goat's greater numbers."

Three smirked, but the demon raised his pen towards Drake. "Yes, mister Drake - I know how that sounds, but I'm trying, here. My sin is - or was, I'll admit I'm a little muddled on this at present - entirely self-reflective. My screeching little nephews in nieces in stolen pumps and Armani suits are going to demand, rather than concede. They will demand recognition and expect fealty. They will openly ask for submission. In sending the lads and lasses here, Pride has given all it is willing to give."

He eyed his former colleagues coolly. "Admit it, friends - you'd much rather be back home, glorifying your own inhumanity and your Fiendish intellects."

That earned him a few scoffs of assent and a few chuckles. He continued. "However, you've seen the laws of this table. You've seen what my allies expect of you," he said, now slowly smiling as he drew his former colleagues into his own dulcet rhetorical web. "What better way to prove your superiority than to show us how devastatingly easy it is for Pride to offer concessions? I've conceded to the need for empathy, Lucifer preserve me, and I still stand here before you, unaffected. Isn't this the voice of one of your mentors, one of the first who sang to you the glories of the Ego?"

One of the female juniors nodded. "We noticed your aura when you walked in, Head Counsellor. For someone corrupted by this plane, your fatuousness remains splendid."

Wormsworth managed a Disney-esque, Milt Kahl-like prideful head bob as he gripped his suit's lapels. "I'm learning that empathy is less debilitating than it seems, Sithandra. One can open oneself to others without expecting the wider world to divest us of our Ego. I've been shown the rare treat of standing in a room filled with people who implicitly trust you - and my power has never wavered. Considering, I can only suggest you and your peers try it out.

They looked at each other confusedly, and then at the mortals, as though Meris and the others would have cues or pointers. "Try something simple," suggested the demonic attorney. "Something unrelated to the current plight. See if you like the feel of it."

A few more seconds of dithering followed, which pushed Herbert to provide them with an example. He'd ordered a small plate of cornbread biscuits, earlier - one of Coach's recipes - topped with local duck foie gras and a few red grapes. A small and sedate glass of white wine had followed, which he'd barely touched. He lifted the glass towards Aspasia and Coach.

"My compliments to the chef. I'd never tasted of this bread of corn before, being dubious of the idea of anyone using anything other than wheat to make loaves. The added produce, however, delightfully complements the dough's sweetness. As for the wine, I'm surprised something so refreshing can remain quite as palatable in the dead of winter," he said, gesturing outside. "A little sunlight and the smell of freshly-cut grass, and this luncheon would have been perfect."

The juniors looked like they couldn't decide between astonishment, curiosity, surprise or abject horror.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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In response, Aspasia nodded and smiled earnestly at the gracious demon. "Bread's come a long way since barley was one of the few grains available to people. Thank you for the kind compliment, Mr. Wormsworth. The cornbread was one of the favorite side dishes, and the foie gras and grapes were something we added later to give them a fuller combination of flavors, savory, sweet, and just a bit of tartness."

Meris then looked over at the juniors with a slight smile and shrugged. "See? Not too difficult, hm?"
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Despite Meris' comment, the possessed twentysomethings looked like they'd witnessed something Eldritch. It was with no small degrees of hesitation that other, timid compliments and comments were attempted, landing on anything from more of the restaurant's cooking to Archie's gibus or Aislinn's tattoos. While this unfolded, Valefor looked increasingly distressed.

"I'd warned you about this!" he told the juniors. "I'd told you not to underestimate their wiles!"

One of the previously arrogant types looked genuinely confused. "What wiles? We're just being civil! Do we really need classroom antics to defeat mortals at their own game?"

Valefor shook his head. "No, it's - Lucifer damn you all, this is how we Fell in the first place! The mortal world's benefits showed us both our destiny and our weakness!"

Herbert brushed that aside. "Be that as it may; what more would you be willing to concede, now that good faith has been established? Would you, say, consent to freeing Riona and placing her in our care?"

Valefor was livid. "They destroyed the Spire, crippled the Goat's forces, charted our beach-heads! Are you so recklessly determined to see us on the path to total defeat?!"

Wormsworth managed a smile that would have damned a few other angels in the room. "Come now, what's a little goodwill between fellow politicians, hm? Tell you what: scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Turn on the Goat on our behalf, and we'll be more than willing to consider you all for positions within the Vice's new hierarchy."

Gabriel was about to object, wanting to reply that he'd prefer it if the juniors joined them of their own free will, that the lawyer's dulcet tones sounded. "Not a bad deal, hm? Wealth from Mammon's coffers, power and influence - all of it within easy reach of this plane's many delights. This could be yours, if the Vice's chattel perform their end of a pincer strike on the remaining Knights of Pride."

Leonard looked deeply concerned, but didn't have it in him to ask of his associate that he stop. Wormsworth went on as he sipped from his wine glass. "Rest and safety, friendship and productivity; and all it takes is a little word. It rhymes with Bess, Kess, Tess and eases distress. One little word and that searing, sudden anguish in your chests goes away, dear children.
- Where would we go?" timidly asked one of the juniors, a mousey young woman in her early thirties.

Herbert looked back to Leonard. "My boss and I happen to be furnishing a legal firm. We'll need clerks and interns - more mutable positions than the centuries you passed under me as glorified vassals have allowed. Upward and outward momentum, finally. Why, I'd be chuffed, were I in your position."

The goat looked skeptical. "They'll need guidance. At least, we'd be there to provide it if we keep them in.
- Magnus Tower seems like it will provide all the guidance we'll all need, dear associate.
- Associate, sure," snarked Ephesian. "I'd be the associate with the purse-strings, like we discussed.
- A trifle, compared to these urchins' safety," opposed Herbert with a shrug. "I'm sure mister Magnus would agree."

Tom shrugged lightly. "I mean, it's what we're here for, what I've been wanting since the beginning.

Someone else looked like they'd only followed half of the conversation. "So all you need from us is one word. One word, and we're all on the same page.
- Well," noted the lawyer, pouting, "apart from Valefor here..."

A few glances were exchanged, followed by nods. "Then it's agreed," said another, a hatchet-faced and peroxide-haired Prep School product whose original soul had probably touched Damnation on the benches of a secret Ivy League fraternity. "We'll give all appearances of following along, then wait for your signal before we push on the Knights."

Herbert leaned back in his chair and inspected his glass, looking as self-satisfied as ever. "I do so love it when a deal comes together..."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Casting a glance at the irate demon, Aspasia chose to ignore Valefor temporarily and turned her attention to the assembly. "Good, I'm glad to see that we are approaching an accord for the most part. Are there any other questions or points for you all would like to cover?" she asked.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Three raised a finger. "Actually, yeah," he said, "I've got something."

Most of everyone's eyes turned on him, which gave him pause. Even Belphegor managed to make his blind stare from behind his lowered eyelids look expectant.

"Well," he said, "it's the Squids. The Loyalists are going to notice as soon as Riona's bubble bursts, and judging from what happened last time, they'll take that as a signal to escalate their own plans. It doesn't take much to understand that Arkham was on the down-low before Gawain Machae, and even Renewal's been going through investment and growth spurts since after the Quigley Road Massacre. Pride's playing right into their strategy, thinking they're the masterminds. If anything, they're facilitators for the Bigger Bads out there. If even half of what Herbert, Ais and I saw through Angel Time comes to pass, we'll end up seeing much, much worse out of them. I'd like to take that opportunity to issue a friendly reminder to our enemies, here."

He then focused on Valefor. "You're pissed. I get that. We cleared the table and dealt you a bad hand. From a tactical point of view, you have no bargaining chips left other than you giving us what we'll need to trap the Goat. We mortals are the ones who have the most to lose, and the most to give. Here's a nugget of wisdom from someone who can actually survive an encounter with a priest of Amaxi."

Valefor's disdain and hatred couldn't be clearer, but he had just enough ice left to stay seated, to focus that rage in his jawline.

"We're all fallible, here," said Aidan. "Each and every one of us. We're flawed in ways we don't understand, but the Void Weavers do. I've seen and read things that would tear most minds apart - and these include angels and demons. I don't care which Vice you serve, why you're going on the warpath or who's bankrolling you - you're at the risk of falling at the hand of things that will undo you. I'm just immensely glad the world hasn't known what an Archangel touched by the Black Speech is liable to do, because we're on the verge of seeing what happens when Knights of Pride pop the Hole's barrier and let Riona's fenced-in horrors loose."

He stared at Valefor. "When you'll drop off this corpse somewhere to return to Hell; I want you to think long and hard about what price you're willing to pay to discharge that wrath of yours. Is your sanity worth it? Is the world you want to claim so badly worth it? I've seen enough to know you know when not to be petty, Valefor; and you dooming all of Creation only so you'll get to spend the last moments of your existence flipping the bird at us would be a colossal waste of your abilities. I'm not pandering to you, I'm stating facts."

Valefor narrowed his eyes. "Has anyone else seen these things, witnessed those horrors?"

Aidan sighed. "The one man who saw it all on my level is away on another mission. Someone I barely got to know paid the price for the Void Weavers' hubris in a way that still scares me when I think about it. Someone else I know needed years to work through the pain, the lunacy, and become something of a functional man again. Then there's Meris, who probably owes half of her resilience to some oddity in her brain's makeup. Some odd fetal scar or something that maybe bridged madness and cogent insight. She never lost herself, but she saw horrors, alright. The Unknown mostly carries opportunities or ways to find kindred spirits; but sometimes there's monsters out in the darkness. Don't think our being mortal makes us welcoming to all outsiders, that I welcomed someone like Herbert without some initial distrust. I'm human; I fear what I don't understand. It's part of being mortal."

Valefor quietly chuckled. "And you think I should fear as well...
- I think it's only wise," nodded Drake. "I've spoken to Nereus Marinos and Christopher Chambers. The species' scope for kindness is immense, but its skill at hatred? You're a demon, and I hope to God you're never hated as much as the Chamberlain hates us."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Meris lightly scoffed. "Chambers probably already does, albeit in an indirect manner, Aidan," she noted, lips pursing with frankness. "Amaxi is his true mistress, and he seeks her favor. She and Her brethren hate our very existence, whether we're mortal or immortal. We cause Them pain, and they want to wipe us out as though we never existed. The Chamberlain has no doubt in his devotion to Her; he is Her fervent follower. That means equal hatred for each and every one of us."

Meris met Valefor's eyes with her own steely gaze. "You should be afraid of Them and what Their creations can do; it's healthy to be afraid of what They can do. I have been a thorn in the Chamberlain's side for over five centuries, and all I've been able to do is chip away at a bloody feckin' eldritch mountain. I've seen what demons' variations on possession can do and twist a mortal beyond recognition, and in comparison to what the Others can do, your worst examples are child's play. I've seen my husband Nereus possessed by Harrogath and become something so unlike him in personality. Harrogath is a combination of Belphegor, Belial, Asmodeus and maybe a few other Vice's base natures and then some, only without the knack for witty banter or even the ability to parley like you are now."

She then focused on a biodegradable cup filled with some clear soda. It quivered and then toppled over, spilling its contents. The fizzy liquid then roiled and spun in the air as it formed an impromptu scrying mirror. Instead of the screen that had allowed them to see Riona, images from her memories of the times she had seen the dead god possess Nereus and gorge Himself on food, alcohol, concubines in the most utterly grotesque manner. Several other scenes followed after of Arbiters altering slaves' forms into Abominations and sending them at her, displaying inhuman strength and savagery. The last scene was of her epic battle with Chambers, full of fury and lightning. The last shot was of him fleeing the ship while a massive arc of lightning pursued him.

"He jumped ship, but I know my attack got him. He would've received lethal burns, and yet he's still around pulling the strings in Renewal and keeping Nereus as a pawn. My husband is recovering now from his centuries of mental abuse, and he still has to be wary against him. The Chamberlain is equally on par with him in his knowledge of the Black Speech. I'm also fluent in it, and I'm well aware that a single word can cause even the strongest of minds to lose all sense of who and what they are."

The displayed memories looked like they had unsettled Aspasia, despite her still sturdy countenance. "And that's not to mention what I've picked up from Harrison Arkham, who is another Squid with his own aspirations that likely won't bode well for us, either. He's not as blunt as Chambers in his influence, but I surely wouldn't consider him to be trustworthy, even if he does happen to help out with the coming upheaval as a means to make people like him, only to lure them in."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"What did you find out, exactly?" asked Archie to Coach. The lich answered broadly, as it benefited the entire assembly.

"Harrison Arkham's probably part of one of those so-called long dynasties immortals liked to prop up as a way to handwave their not dying. Y'know - the Tanners not being a single dragon, but instead this bloodline of constant expats coming in from Wales and the greater UK, always with the same ideals, the same optimism. All of it with not so much as a single woman in their numbers. The truth might've been hard to swallow before the Accords, but it makes a Hell of a lot more sense than a bunch of celibate old farts tossing everything aside to go and live as eccentric geriatrics on our side of the Atlantic."

He smirked briefly. "Arkham's like that, minus the agreeable goals. From what we've seen, he's one of those rare Weaver envoys with a long-term plan that's not working with your Augur's assent," he said, looking back to Meris. "He's patient and driven, and he's observed this part of the coast for a long while, I'd say. We spotted a map of Downtown and Renton in his office, with markers for sites he claims he wants to restore to the way they were before Elysium. I wouldn't mind, except Centennial Park's right in the middle."

He sighed. "What doesn't help things is how intricately he's linked to Rhode Island's past. He's based off of Angell Street in Providence, and Martin here thinks he hiked up the property's value to keep the Lovecrafts out, once his jab at rendering them destitute started to work. He drove Winfield Scott Lovecraft insane, most likely, and inspired Howard indirectly. I'm no sociologist, but I think he wanted the idea of Void Weavers to make in-roads non-invasively."

Three frowned. "So Chtulhu going all kawaii and ending up on onesies and sippy cups is all part of some plan of his?
- I wouldn't go that far," replied Silas, "but he wanted to communicate the Others' horror, somehow, without using the Black Speech. It worked too well; Howard Philips ended up a lifelong neurotic, bigot and sexist who couldn't accept himself for what he was. Toss knowledge of the Bucks' fate in there, and you get to the roots of certain concepts, like decaying lineages or Gothic family secrets."

That obviously confused Drake. "Why would he denounce his own creditors like that? I mean, I'm working on the idea that Shub-Niggurath is some sort of stand-in for Amaxi…"

Coach tossed his shoulders. "That, we don't know. The fact that he tried probing Aspasia suggests he's not acting out of the kindness of his heart. He's got an agenda; I just don't think the Others favor too highly in it. I know how that sounds."

With the chime of a spoon touching a coffee cup, Delmar manifested in Meris' field of view, then in those of the Shield members who'd joined him earlier. That question obviously troubled him. With his fedora resting on the table and his almost permanent newspaper folded neatly next to it, he intently focused on an empty point in space while taking a sip from the same cup.

"I know two thirds of the assembly here can't hear or see me," he said, "but I'd like them to know that in all of my people's years, we haven't known anything other than the Others or the Architect. There's always God, of course, but he always felt like a close cousin of the Architect, to us. A member of the family, just not someone directly involved in our upbringing. The idea of some hitherto unseen third option would pose a threat, of course, but it'd also destabilize the Loyalists. I doubt Arkham would systematically destroy a local family of investors in the same way Nikolaas Buck did for the local patriarchs if he was working for your Creator. He certainly wouldn't do that if he was working for mine. If you also exclude the Others on principle, all you're left with is a question mark..."
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