Chapter III: The Fall

[TennyoCeres84]

Despite the incubus not physically being there, Aislinn sent him a level gaze in the direction of the fallen bin, more thoughtful than angry. "It takes two to tango, Tom, and two to determine the tempo at which they dance."

"Trust, too. Given the relatively brief time we've known each other and everything we've already been through, I'd say that's something to keep in mind in what I'm able to take. I've seen what was essentially your family reunion in Hell. I didn't turn around and go screaming the other way. You have enough respect for me to trust me with that, right? Have enough trust in me to figure that out with you, okay?"

[Karl the Mad]

Charles frowned. "Souls as... weapons? Y'all ain't got reg'lar steel 'n rubber 'n shit?"

[IamLEAM1983]

Tom's bodiless presence seemed to glide closer, carrying some amount of that same hesitation.

"I understand, Aislinn. I just feel as though I've failed in one crucial department. For all of my efforts at understanding and espousing mortal values, what makes me an incubus is raw. Insatiable. Maybe even callous. You deserve better than a haywire demonic Id, and all my previous attempts at acceptance and integration have failed. I've been trying to color it with the nobility of my intentions for the past thousand years, but the core of what Asmodeus created refuses to bend the knee before my principles. I'm afraid I'll-"

There was a pause. Where demonic oppression typically involved feelings of unease, all Aislinn would feel was that Tom had gone into deep thought and was parsing all that he'd learned since first rebelling. A foreign nugget of hope would tentatively root itself in the roane's heart, weakly fluttering. Tom had grasped something.

"Bend the knee. Two to tango..."

That alien scrap of hope suddenly surged in her chest.

"Aislinn, you're a genius! We'll take care of my friends first, finish the retrofits and renovations, and then we're flipping the incubus playbook! What Asmodeus designed as untameable experienced every bit of Civilization I did, the one difference is it was never designed to obey orders. I was born to be contemptuous of those who would presume to order me, but it's never touched my core on a significant level. The part of me that's tethered to Asmodeus would tear you to pieces in the conjugal bed - and you're going to tell it no. You have a solid chunk of Meris' own capabilities - I'm convinced you could be the one to tame it. The fact that I can focus on you when I've been flitting between lovers for eons has to account for something!"

He then seemed to sober up slightly. "We'll have to provide failsafes in case I'm wrong, of course - but Lucifer strike me down, I've rarely been so sure of something, before!"

She'd then feel more kisses on her cheeks and neck - more hurried ones, carrying less raw passion but made more energetic by optimism. Arms hugged her from behind once more, but now seemed to evoke an affectionate cuddle. 

"You're the best goddamn padawan a reluctant Sith Lord could have. Until I can say I love you, let me just say you're the best friend this Darth Pigface has ever had."

* * *

"These are all materials from the mortal plane," clarified Marko. "All we have is Brimstone and Hellfire. Brimstone is hard to work with outside of Pandemonium's forges, and Belial refuses to even steal their crucibles or casting molds. Souls freed from their bodies are flexible - they can be as hard or as brittle as we need them to be. It all depends on prior treatment, as with any other forge."

Three nodded. "Hence phrases like having an iron-clad will.
- Yes," agreed the fox. "By carefully selecting tortures or rewards, we can alter the soul's grade. Those that go feral can be unimaginably destructive, but they lose all practical value. Certain criminals reach us in particularly softened states, unaware of the wrongs they've perpetrated or enabled. We harden, then quench them."

Drake didn't seem too perturbed by that, perhaps owing to their working with Melmoth. "Does Belial do jobs for Melmoth on occasion?"

Marko scoffed amusedly at that. "No - he believes the forge is only good enough for implements of war or torture. Melmoth's chosen processes are more refined - more intricate. I believe his association with Mammon allows him to tap into those resources the other Princes cannot access. There are sources of iron and crude oil in Hell, but they remain inaccessible for anyone not affiliated or allied with Greed."

Aidan followed along. "So Melmoth keeps factories, then. Plastics, electronics - we already knew he ran a Pit-based economy. Because it's Greed's province, however, all that metal and all those rare earths aren't put to use in weapons development."

The newborn Jenkins nodded. "You can thank your Maker for that, along with misplaced demonic pride. It's all that's kept Belial from attempting to surgically augment some of his workers on a massive scale. He claims his soldiers have no need of implants to crush you."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Thank you for listening and trusting in me, Tom," Aislinn said, turning around to hug him in return and peck a kiss on his invisible snout. As I've said, I look forward to that occasion. It'll be one to remember, for sure!" she exclaimed happily and hopefully.

She hummed thoughtfully. "We should finish cleaning up and getting ready. A half hour passes quicker than you think, and Mary will be here shortly. Ciaran doesn't take that long to shower, either. The sooner we can summon your friends and get them on their feet, as well as the club, the sooner you and I can get to that date!"

[IamLEAM1983]

There'd be a vague sense of playful embarrassment. "Heh, yeah. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed with nothing but a towel on. I should probably pull out of your mind and get dressed."

His immaterial fingers brushed a few strands of her hair. "I wish I'd met you first, all those centuries ago. It would've saved me a lot of time."

He kissed her, slowly and fully. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Ais."

[TennyoCeres84]

Aislinn returned the kiss and smiled widely. "You're welcome. Live and learn, Tom; that's all any of us can do, regardless of our lifespan. And I think you're learning well."

[Karl the Mad]

Charles scoffed. "We'll see 'bout that."

Abraham, as usual, had concerns of a more tactical nature. "Can you tell us anything else of use?" he asked. "Secondary insertion points, relevant troop data, anything of the sort?"

[IamLEAM1983]

Marko nodded in the affirmative. "I can - but not now. Not while Belial could still pull me out of this shell. I won't risk supplying you with fragmentary data."

Xavier sighed. "We'd best get started, then. I'll skip the regalia seeing as you're pressed for time. Straighten yourselves out a bit, then join me at the altar."

* * *

Tom radiated a warm sense of gratitude, Ais would feel her right hand being squeezed - and the connection was severed. The washroom's heat levels returned to normal, leaving the fogged-over mirror to slowly clear up.

[TennyoCeres84]

With the connection severed, Aislinn resumed cleaning up. While the conjuring still loomed in the very near future, she reflected back on their conversation. It felt like they were progressing in the right direction. How else were they to solve the issue of Asmodeus' imposed punishment other than essentially collaborating with it? Offering his Id a new and tantalizing experience was the key. It also stoked her desire to make all sorts of delighted sounds come forth from the warthog, rather than having it be the reverse. The idea seemed so simple, but she knew that for someone with a forced perspective it made breaking away from it all the more difficult. Still, she felt she was up to the challenge.

After a quick application of makeup and some hair styling, the female selkie emerged from the washroom. Given that there was some practicality in summoning Tom's friends, she kept her attire classy but still functional. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that reached her knees and a lace neck corset she had personally made. Her hair was loose in gentle waves, while her feet were clad in black, high-heeled boots. Rather than a typical red lipstick, Aislinn's lips had been stained a deep metallic teal shade that offset her smokey eyes.

Her twin brother stepped out from the other washroom and nodded to her. Ciaran had kept his clothes more sedate, given he wasn't directly involved in the summoning. A black dress shirt was secured with a black and gray striped tie, with a black jacket and slacks. "Even if you did paint my nails black, I don't think I'd fit with your spooky sorceress look you've got going, Ais," he said with a chuckle.

"Eh, I doubt the summoning or Tom's friends will care much about how the security detail looks, but that suit does fit nicely on you, Ciar," she replied, shrugging with a chuckle.

[Karl the Mad]

"Good thinking," Abraham agreed. He and Charles proceeded to the washroom, where they took turns washing their hands and straightening their clothes.

"Gonna hafta take 'im home, meet th' rest a' th' family," Charles said half to himself as he fiddled with his hair. "Everyone's always 'app t' meet new Jenkinses, n' matter where they came from."

"You have strangers join the clan often?" Abraham replied.

"Sure. Marriage, adoption, long-lost rel'tive..." The old vet shrugged. "Shit 'appens, yeah? Now c'mon, we gots a ceremony t' watch."

-------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Mary had picked up the genuine Brooklyn pizza, timing her arrival and the order so that it would still be fresh by the time she reached Hope. She'd had to pull some tricky maneuvers, but she made it, and the shuttle was coming in on the closest landing pad to Tom's club. She texted him to let him know, then walked down to the parking lot.

Incoming! ETA 2 mins - MJ

Her bike was waiting for her; she swung a leg over the saddle, fired it up and raced away, pizza box clutched under one arm with a minimum of awkwardness.