Chapter II: Gravity

[TennyoCeres84]

All four selkies could understand the weight of Gabriel's sorrow at the betrayal of Lucifer and Baphomet and his education in war from mortals. Having more experience in being a soldier of sorts, she could empathize with the archangel.

Still, the fact that a mortal could have so much influence on a seraph made her curious. For a mortal to have such an effect on one of the Host, God's favorite no less, had to be someone of a particular character. Oddly enough, it reminded her of her strong bond with Nereus. What she knew of demonlogy and Infernalism pointed to one such possible and pivotal individual.

"Was the mortal that put the ideas in Lucifer's mind named Lilith, by any chance?" she asked.

[Karl the Mad]

"Lilith?" Mary interjected, sounding surprised. "I know her, she was the Mother of All Vampires, or something." She frowned in concentration and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. "Let's see... we were taught that she was involved with Lucifer, and they must have had progeny because he cursed her, and then he cursed them, and that curse warped as the years went by and nowadays we know it as vampirism. Obviously we got a slanted view of all that, but it's the basic gist."

"Learned that in c-college, did ya?" Preston snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Smartass. No, it was part of SCRT training to learn about the varieties of inhuman and supernatural beings out there." She shrugged ruefully. "It was all remarkably speciesist, and no one pretended otherwise."

Charles, meanwhile, was more interested in Gabriel. "Ya knows 'im?" he asked Three, noticing the younger soldier's reaction.

[IamLEAM1983]

"I don't know him," corrected Drake, "so much as I've seen him. He was at Twentynine Palms before I left for the Middle East; I only ever crossed paths with him. Never spoke to him or anything, the difference in rank would've made that difficult. He looked like a general back then, someone that would've made the trek from Washington for some kind of inspection drive. Full courtroom regalia. It felt like I was the only one he nodded to, sometimes - like he wasn't actually there for anyone else."

He shrugged. "I can't claim that makes me special or anything; it could be I just saw a guy that looked like our Babylonian fella, except with a close shave and a comb-over. He looked so... average you'd have a hard time convincing me I ran into an Archangel."

Aidan pursed his lips together. "Then there's the aftermath of Machae's attempted coup. We were busy with the immediate relief efforts and I spent a few days serving food at one of the mess halls set up by the National Guard; but I remember seeing the same general, the same man, in one of the queues in front of me. I paid attention to that particular line, but when he should've shown up with either a clipboard or a soup bowl or something, he was gone. I asked the people before and after him if they'd seen a Marine Corps official that'd fit his description, and they gave me weird looks."

Naberius seemed interested. "Hm. This is in accordance with some of the reports we've received from Heaven; Gabriel would consider his own, personal training to be complete, having spanned more than two thousand years of open warfare - and would now be looking for soldiers of worth... This warrants a segue, but one that is still of some worth."

Restoring the dining room to its default state, he again switched channels on the TV. What came on was a chunk of Interstate highway, the kudzu bushes and pale brown soil and stone evoking any chunk of road between Nevada and New Mexico, summertime heat haze making the upwards bends ethereal in appearance - as distant roars approached. A long file of motorists emerged out of the bend, Harley-Davidson after Harley-Davidson, several old Indian motorcycles and a few modern hydrogen-fuel models mixed in.

Three frowned. "A biker gang? Why's a biker gang relevant?
- It isn't in the immediate, but it does stand as a sign that Gabriel has begun something of a rather unprecedented nature..."

Naberius froze the image on one of the bikers' back patches. Crossed swords waited behind two stylized crows, the upper and lower title bands containing characters only Meris would recognize and understand, it being Elder Futhark.

They called themselves the Black Crows, and where the lower band should've shown the chapter's native base - like a city or a State - it only displayed one word.

Valhalla.

"The Archangel isn't waiting for Hell, my friends," stated the Steward. "Scandinavia's departed sons are being conscripted, although the term seems ill-applied to people so willing to take up arms for a good cause. Gabriel invited old Vikings to return to Earth with special permissions, after centuries of rest in the Celestial Plane. Magic may have taught these men and women to ride motorcycles and speak modern English - Gabriel would still require living soldiers; people who have experienced the best and worst of what modern combat has to offer."

Three put two and two together. "So Gabriel's looking for mortals to train...
- Or looking out for mortals he has already selected," offered Naberius. That simple statement contextualized those two strange occurrences in Aidan's life, something that left him momentarily speechless. "But - why would he allow me to suffer if I matter that much? Why didn't he nuke the Squids that took Carrie's life, or save Jenkins from his own problems with them?"

Naberius sighed. "A sword is worth nothing if it isn't tempered, mister Drake. Gabriel would be making Baphomet's own mistakes if he intervened in your life in any serious capacity. The only leeway he will ever allow himself is to officially command you all on the battlefield - but only once the time will be right."

Tom, however, was more interested in Lilith's role in both Heaven and the mortal plane's past. "If Lilith's involved the way she is, then... thousands of years of theological research are false. Mankind never fell from grace - Mankind made angels fall from grace, instead!"

Archie having been raised in the Anglican faith's heyday, Tom's realization didn't strike him as being extraordinary. "I'm not surprised, Tom," he then said, his tone somber, "the Creator had to know that life seeds its own variety of demons into us. Hopes and dreams, disappointments and various forms of hatred... We are creatures of Want and Need, and can sometimes be exceptionally callous in our pursuit of these things. All Lilith could have desired was happiness, but it could be her position forced her to consider claiming said happiness on the backs of other people..."

He sighed. "Any angel could be swayed by a mortal's hopes and dreams. Even one such as the Lightbringer."

[TennyoCeres84]

Archie's last statement caused Meris to grow contemplative, but her mind thought of the more positive side of a mortal influencing an angel, thinking of Hanako and Matriel. The discussion regarding Gabriel's recruitment of mortals made her thoughts drift to Nami and her training under the archangel. She mused he had initially done for her safety, what with her hybrid nature and some of Heaven's more conservative members. Yet, she wondered if that was another reason for teaching the Nephilim kendo.

The archmage sighed and eyed the lord. "A mortal influencing an angel can have negative rippling effects; however, it goes the other way as well. Mortal perseverance and our more noble aspects can motivate Heaven as well. Gabriel wouldn't be doing what he's doing unless he knew there as some worthwhile in need of saving from utter annihilation. As for Lilith, I wonder if the Lightbringer may have been charmed by her traits at the time. However, with his status as a seraph and Angel Time, that love and admiration she had for him was likely twisted into something that would come to taint a sizeable portion of Heaven's original angelic population."

[Karl the Mad]

Vikings, eh. "I wonder if me ancestor's in 'at lot," he remarked softly, watching the bikes thunder by on screen.

"Your family's from Scandinavia?" Mary asked, although it wasn't really a surprise. Blond hair, blue eyes, supreme confidence; could you get any more Aryan?

Charles shrugged. "Jansik of Holmbr is the farthest back we've reached," he explained, speaking clearly for the moment. "Might know him better as Mad King Jan, though. The first and the last mortal king to unite all Nordic people under one banner. Or so the stories go." He chuckled. "He's more of a bogeyman to them, though, Sweden's ancient Hitler analogy. I dunno how much is true, or not, but he's still our ancestor."

[IamLEAM1983]

Three took a few more bites, getting closer to cleaning out his plate. "So Leonard's visiting spirit is an asshole who was influenced by another asshole, who himself was influenced by the Mother of All Vampires... Why do I have the feeling that doesn't have any traction with Third and Fourth-Wave Feminists in the arcane world?"

Amazo rolled his eyes. "You don't know the half of it - Warlocks are codified male and evil, you can't mention the existence of criminal female arcane practitioners without being called a sexist pig, and not every coven of white witches is willing to address the fact that not every tutelary spirit or dryad is beholden to them. Ask Jack Greene; there's a handful of Wiccans that are worth a damn across town, but there's also idiots who figure racist slurs towards dryads are all fine and dandy if you slather them with Blessed Bes."

Tom frowned. "I've never really been singled out in my other excursions on this plane.
- Did you openly advertise as an Infernalist?" asked the lizard.

That made Tom snort. "What, and end up lashed over a bed of coals with Spanish Inquisitors asking me silly questions? Of course not!
- So you know," replied Amazo. "As far as the greater world is concerned, Infernalists are Capital E-Evil. You're a fluke."

The snake shifted closer to the gathering. "See, the Lesser Key has a bunch of really didactic spirits in it...
- Duke Vassago," supplied Naberius, "whose domain is practical knowledge and the world's history.
- Yeah, him," agreed the snake. "Well, back before Web courses were a thing and going on campus through a T1 line installed at home was common, some people made the grave mistake of wishing for better lives for their kids. What do you do when you've managed to muscle your way through a grimoire's instructions and have the means to save your kids from a life of illiteracy?"

Tom caught Francis' theme. "Some people were only Infernalists by necessity, so their children could learn and attend something approaching school. The moral authority would catch them, however, and lob them with the Thomas Quints of the world, to be interrogated and tortured."

Three frowned at this. "Why not ask Heaven for tutoring?" he asked. "Isn't that possible?
- They have a non-involvement clause, remember?" answered Naberius. "Heaven believes you are more than capable to look after yourselves, Pandemonium and the Court both acknowledge that a neighbourly prod or two is sometimes appreciated."

The Steward smirked. "I'll never prevent a capable mortal from baking a cake thanks to his or her own capabilities - but if they happen to be lacking sugar, I will happily offer them a cup."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Heaven will help when there's few to no other options, such as when I escaped Darlarath and was at my lowest," Meris recalled, commenting on one of those rare exceptions angels made. "Between the emotional breakdown and fighting for my life, I suffered burnout and some injuries from the Arbiters pursuing me," she noted. "I thought I was going to die then and there, but a waterspout suddenly formed out of nowhere, completely without warning."

Aislinn frowned and asked, "What angel can do that?"

"Matriel, the Water Throne," she informed. "He turned into a waterspout, ripped the Arbiters' ship apart, and either killed them or sent them scurrying back to Darlarath with their tails between their legs," she answered. "After that, he and his wife helped me by treating my wounds at a makeshift monastery some selkies had set up after the Protestant Reformation upended their way of life. He taught me how to reconnect with my abilities as a cantor, sort of a musical and spiritual rehabilitation. He also gave me the details on Nereus's supposed betrayal and the Chamberlain's meddling in our plans. He keeps in contact every so often, just to touch base and check in on my missions."

That was something of a bombshell of information for the three selkies, despite her knowledge of them. Tom would probably have been surprised by the mention of a wife and the fact the archmage was allied with a Throne.

[IamLEAM1983]

The warthog indeed was surprised, but it registered through a simple widening of his eyes, rather than overt commentary. That was unexpected information, to be sure, but it also wasn't anywhere near being unbelievable. The longer practitioners lived, the more they saw. On a sufficiently long timeline, everyone would bump into an angel or a demon.

It just so happened that on average, people who lived less than a few centuries didn't see much of them. If you only had the average expected mortal lifespan, you had more odds of winning the lottery while being struck by lightning than seeing anyone from the Upper or Lower Planes. As far as Tom was concerned, the people who stood in this very dining room with him must have been marked by fate, by the rate at which momentous occurrences landed at their feet.

"At this point," he confided, "I wouldn't be surprised if you told me we have an opportunity to not only quell a demonic uprising before it even begins - but also dip into your conjugal troubles," he said, looking to Meris with a bit of a conspiratorial smirk. "Amaxi stands to gain from Hell's own incursion, which is also beneficial for Heaven's martial efforts in a roundabout sort of way - and it conveniently puts the Void Weavers someplace that's right off-stage of our current concerns. Not our main focus by any means, but definitely within observable range."

Three rubbed his chin. "We're forgetting our immediate concern. What else is on that tape?"

Naberius smiled, seemingly glad that someone was there to tie things back to the main investigation. Switching the channel again, he returned the TV set to the blue screen of the inert DV Cam player, and pressed the Fast Forward button for a few moments. The player enthusiastically whirred for a moment and then clicked into place. A new timestamp appeared, corresponding with a date that stood a few nights short of the first truly distressing entry in the day planner.

The image that came into focus was a view of the goat's living room, somewhere in the early stages of his religious paranoia. A few crosses had been placed here and there, but he hadn't yet reached obsessive levels of concern. His now somewhat haggard face took up most of the frame, and he seemed to be trying to set up the device to be able to record the room from an unseen position, somewhere right above his own television. Once satisfied, he looked right into the camera.

"Alright," he said, sighing. "This is... Test Recording A. For the record, I'll state that I'm of... mostly sound mind and body, what's happening to me notwithstanding. I've updated my will and everything, there's notary briefs for my designated executors in my office strongbox - not that there's much to be concerned about on that front - but this is mostly about letting whoever could watch this know that I... think I know what I'm doing.

I'm building a case of sorts. To whom I'll send this to, I don't know yet. All I know is that it leaves me alone for a while if I hurt it. The following is the only way I've found that works. I'm recording this on a Sunday - I'm going to tie myself to the chair I'm standing on, right now, and force myself to watch a telepreaching sermon on one of the public broadcast channels."

A nervous laugh escaped him. "Go- I mean, gosh, this is ridiculous... See, that's one thing. I can't say anything that's based in religion, right down to a few applicable swear words - which cuts down on my Cajun vocabulary some. I had to ask Xavier to nail these crosses up  on my walls, too. My hands burned if I so much as thought about it while holding a hammer and some nails... I don't mean burn as in vague discomfort, either."

A blurry palm slowly came into focus. "I mean burn as in oozing blisters - second-degree stuff." Indeed, the goat's palm was covered in blots of what had to be antibiotic ointment, an impromptu glove having been set over it to allow the medicinal formula to penetrate the skin. Plastic cling wrap and a bit of Scotch tape - an old household trick anyone with a nurse in the family tended to pick up.

Nervously, Leonard laid down a few more rounds of self-reassuring legaleze - a scared mind retreating to provinces it knew well to compensate for expected traumas - before sitting down on the dinner chair he'd set in front of the TV. A few lengths of rope went around his chest and arms and were clumsily tied together at his chest. He'd be able to free himself without assistance later on, but not if his little demonstration made him lose his wits. Having left himself enough loose on one wrist to operate a remote control, he navigated his channel selection until coming onto something that made him swallow hard.

Moments later, a Yamaha synthesizer's fake organ cheerfully piped its way into the soundscape, punctuated by the rhythmic clapping of what had to be a Gospel choir. You could've expected them to start on a rendition of something along the lines of Amazing Grace, but what instead took form also required the sophomoric use of an electric guitar: Norman Greenbaum's Spirit in the Sky might've been more of an old Rock classic than a religious one, but the themes addressed certainly fit the bill.

It took a while for noticeable reactions to take shape. At first, Ephesian only looked bored or resigned, which made sense to a degree. Possession or no, he probably wasn't the type to be moved by this particular song.

Never been a sinner, I never sinned
I got a friend in Jesus...

Out of nowhere, the goat reacted violently, although not in the way stereotypes associated to possession suggest. He didn't strain or buckle or snarl, he didn't go for grotesque contortions, instead going limp for a millisecond before parting with a full-throat laugh that oozed contempt. It seemed he'd shifted personalities entirely in that half of a second!

"Oh, you poor, poor fool; do you really think the Nazarene matters to me; all those crosses you'll put up, all those prayers you'll whisper at night? You mortals and your precious culture, rubbing your noses in the dung of your betters, thinking you understand them, thinking your knowing names amounts to anything..."

He laughed defiantly. "You want names, barrister? You gave me Jesus' name, it's only fair I gave you Lilith's!" he said, still laughing. "All I hear is Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, when I've got millions of names to pull from! Belial and Ashtoreth, Mammon and Asmodeus, Melmoth and Baphomet and Ezemial and Tanith and Dagon! All your old gods, all those you poor heaps of glorified clay disappointed - I know them all!"

The possessed goat kept laughing. "How about Marduk and Ishtar, huh? They've forsaken you as well! All of Iram's angels, all of its turncoat Fiends; you've angered them all, what with how small and inefficient and insignificant you all have proven to be!"

More laughter. "But oh yes, do go on with these silly tests of yours, barrister, O Lawkeeper, these idiots don't have faith! Even if they did, faith doesn't surge along cable connections, you know! And the idiot - he doesn't even know what cameras mean to me!"

More hilarity, this time with enough strength to make the goat strain against his bonds, all the while sputtering and choking. Once he'd settled down, he looked straight at the camera and smiled.

What he then said practically made Three jump out of his seat.

"Clever, clever... Clever young mister Hauser... Oh, and good work on the sleuthing, milord!"

The smile turned into a leer, Leonard's light Cajun twangs into a deliberately cartoonish drawl.

"Hey Preston, mon cher... Yer momma says hi!"

[TennyoCeres84]

Aislinn, Ciaran, and Neasa shared Three's startlement, while the youngest twin cautiously tempered herself, having some idea of what the possessed man was doing. She glared annoyedly at the t.v. screen.

Meris contemplatively narrowed her eyes at the video, recalling the antics of the minor demon from earlier in the day. The Black Goat was obviously trying to rile and get under their skin to wear at their defenses. She didn't know how much the Prince had looked into future or whether they actually were facing him now, but she appeared rather unflappable at that moment, waiting to see what else he might've had to say. To the others, she said calmly, "Give Vanity a camera, and he'll mug and goad the audience, when he's not preening for his close-up or portrait."

[Karl the Mad]

Preston had stiffened, but showed no such overt reactions as the others were. "What would it know," he drawled back, rolling his eyes. Max would have been in limbo, at best, but Bella? Altruistic, kind, loving Bella?

For the first time in years, he thought of his mother in detail. Slim, beautiful, just barely showing her age in the last memory he could recall of her. He and his father had been dark-haired, slightly rat-faced and buck-toothed (until he'd had reconstructive surgery following an encounter in the prison showers), but Bella was always a brightly shining flower. It was she who carried out the philanthropy and political actions of the Hauser empire, always with the good of the people in mind.

Or so he remembered her, anyway.

Bolstered by these recollections, he smirked back at the screen, folded his arms and said nothing. This is NOT the time for my personal bullshit, he said to himself. This is for Meris, not for me!