Lightly smirking at the young man's idea, Meris waited for Charles to jump Aidan before she would enter into the fray.
***
"How do we steer the conversation in that direction to see if they've come in contact with Delgado at some point?" Ciaran asked.
"Without attracting attention," Neasa added. "Even with gruffs, it seems like word could still get back to the very person we're trying to look into."
***
Aislinn took the chains and locks from 'Volkov' and eyed Mary to come along in order to complete the warthog's task, heading inside the container.
Chapter III: The Fall
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
Archie smirked at Ciaran's question. "They're Gruffs; they will always have someone on the brain who will come across as dishonourable; and you shouldn't have too much trouble finding mountain goats who look to be attempting to one-up Sir Percival in terms of raw chivalry. Brokering for attention shouldn't be too hard either, you've all been made honorary Knights. Aspasia's genetic relatives aren't the type to harbour contempt for us; they will gladly speak to anyone from the mortal plane whom they deem trustworthy.
Be direct. Ask about the Lieutenant. The corrupt ones and the tattle-tales will balk at the notion of speaking ill of an officer of the peace, the upstanding ones will rather die than let Delgado's injustices go unpunished. Relate our friend's, erm, plight for extra emotional impact. Honor mattering more to them than the law's letter, many amongst the footmen and women would have been likely to offer him their aid."
Archie was, of course, referring to Preston.
Be direct. Ask about the Lieutenant. The corrupt ones and the tattle-tales will balk at the notion of speaking ill of an officer of the peace, the upstanding ones will rather die than let Delgado's injustices go unpunished. Relate our friend's, erm, plight for extra emotional impact. Honor mattering more to them than the law's letter, many amongst the footmen and women would have been likely to offer him their aid."
Archie was, of course, referring to Preston.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
They both nodded in understanding. "We'll head over to Evergloam shortly, Archie," Ciaran replied.
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Karl the Mad
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
((OOC: I sent you a PM, L, did you get it yet?))
Doubtless the warthog already had tools in place at the basement to make this easier for them. But she threw him a sarcastic two-finger salute and ambled on inside. Once the door was shut behind them, though, she giggled quietly. "Men," she whispered, shaking her head. "I wonder who else the Mafiya out there can procure for us?"
------------------------------
Privately, Charles figured Zhang here would have made a fine recruit for his own little roster back in Hope. But it was a little too late for that!
And at Aidan's urging, he grinned toothily and bunched his fist, lashing out with a solid right hook for the Marine's jaw. No squarer a hit could ever be found elsewhere, he was certain.
-------------------------------
"And what of my compensation?" Jericho asked, politely but pointedly. "Not all of us enjoy the benefits of municipal employment, after all, nor do we all adhere to the stereotype of the wealthy immortal."
Doubtless the warthog already had tools in place at the basement to make this easier for them. But she threw him a sarcastic two-finger salute and ambled on inside. Once the door was shut behind them, though, she giggled quietly. "Men," she whispered, shaking her head. "I wonder who else the Mafiya out there can procure for us?"
------------------------------
Privately, Charles figured Zhang here would have made a fine recruit for his own little roster back in Hope. But it was a little too late for that!
And at Aidan's urging, he grinned toothily and bunched his fist, lashing out with a solid right hook for the Marine's jaw. No squarer a hit could ever be found elsewhere, he was certain.
-------------------------------
"And what of my compensation?" Jericho asked, politely but pointedly. "Not all of us enjoy the benefits of municipal employment, after all, nor do we all adhere to the stereotype of the wealthy immortal."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
Aislinn scoffed quietly, using her telekinesis to quickly arrange the chains and locks to secure themselves inside the container. "Who can say?" she responded rhetorically, glancing at the pods. "Be ready to get these things loose," she murmured, waiting for the warlock to do carry out the spell.
***
Meris waited for Aidan to start his fit, understanding that she was supposed to add to the chaos in order to lure Bob out.
***
Meris waited for Aidan to start his fit, understanding that she was supposed to add to the chaos in order to lure Bob out.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
After the container's doors were closed, Tom focused a bit of via in order to connect its doors with Holden Hall's coal cellar. Aislinn and Mary wouldn't feel much, except perhaps the vague and bone-deep sense that something in their immediate surroundings had changed. Parting them open, the roane would find the mansion's lower level waiting - one that largely served as an armory, a training space for Aidan and Bucky and as a repository for those few tools Archie owned that weren't required too often. The manor's renovations having been completed months ago, Mary wound find a number of power tools sitting on their designated rack. As fastidious as Gubbin was known to be, even that seldom-used corner of the mansion was dust-free. The only thing he hadn't been able to buff out was the blackened shade of the poured concrete floor, a result of old coal dust mixing in with the new floor covering. At a later date, they'd have to look into having the mansion's support struts relocated and the finishing details of the basement completed. The space wasn't exactly cold, but it certainly felt spartan for the moment. Three had already mentioned the practicality of having another computer available down here, so close to Preston's server hub, but the city's available funds weren't limitless.
A few more months, more saved lives, a few more paychecks in everyone's pockets, and they'd be able to consider adding ancillary improvements to the Hall. For now, however, the needed pneumatic bolt screw was easy to locate thanks to its hefty design and its bright yellow plastic casing.
From outside, it looked as though half of the container had been embedded in the basement's wall, with only a vague blue-white shimmer at the contact points indicating that two distinct points in space were intersecting. How magic compensated for atomic collision and this rather obvious break in the laws of physics, however, was anyone's guess. Two atoms couldn't occupy the same space, but it seemed like a few Fae spells included what some gamers might've called "telefragging insurance". Considering their origin and the way Faerie Gates worked, it made some sort of vague sense.
* * *
Three had expected normal pain; something dull and sharp at the same time. He'd also expected blood, a vague sense of disorientation or, well, anything related to taking a right cross straight in the jaw. Instead, Charles' punch was both underwhelming and rather shocking.
On one level, he felt nothing at all, or at least nothing you'd have construed as actual pain. No sudden tenderness in his jaw, or even the vague sense that a joint would've been strained painfully, something to the effect of his jaw snapping against his upper teeth. On another, however, it was the worst thing he'd ever endured in his life. It reflected in the way he cried out once hit - not just with the usual yelp of surprise, but with something you typically only really heard in Fae suffering under iron's influence. Some part of his mind felt the contact as every ounce of jungle fever and incipient madness, every ounce of raw aggression Charles had ever displayed even long before they'd first met, all bunched up behind his knuckles.
It was sudden, it was brief - and it was horrible. It drove home the fact that he was now a loose soul being punched by another loose soul, Jenkins' deepest essence lashing out against his own. Three needed everything he had to avoid putting his hands up and cry uncle - he now knew quite well that this was a lousy plan. As his vision cleared, however, he saw that his lousy plan was actually working. Well, somewhat.
Sheldon the demon had burst out of his office, another red-skinned humanoid with brown gabardine pants and a beige short-sleeved shirt that looked slightly too small for his gut. A rumpled tie completed the ensemble along with a black mustache and a cigarette.
"What's going on, here?!" he called out, to the tone of someone who wasn't used to trying to sound authoritarian. Judging by the bags under his eyes, Sheldon was overworked and under-appreciated, or at least terminally bored. Charles' punch had broken through that boredom, however - and was something Aidan had to follow through.
"It's this asshole that landed us here!" replied Drake, channeling that sudden Fae-like pain, essentially depression turned into something sensory instead of mental in origin, and gesturing at Charles. "I told him planting that IED in Mogadishu was a lousy fuckin' idea, and he managed to set Jihadi John's fucking spiritual successors on our tail! Six Exo guys, dead, our best squad mage is stuck with us-"
He gestured to Meris in order to include her, and then launched himself at Charles.
"- and we DON'T FUCKING DESERVE THIS!"
He couldn't afford to spare a warning or a look of apology, and rammed his left forearm against Charles' throat, his right fist coming in sharp contact with Charles' brow. As Aidan had, Charles would experience something that wasn't pain in the sensory, physical sense of the term - but that also clearly was. Drake's fist had carried the horrors of Najeeban and his guilt at having failed to save his girlfriend and squad leader, all the uncertainty he bottled away to stay functional, as well as all the anger he knew he couldn't normally express. The world didn't owe him an explanation, the Army would never care to deliver one on official grounds - if it even could - and nobody else could shoulder that bitter mixture of fear, anger, resentment and disappointment.
In a sense, a man had thrown the punch, but what had connected with Jenkins' forehead was a scared, angry, sad and confused little boy.
What would make it worse was how they didn't have time to digest that sudden and intimate exchange, and had to treat those blows as what they still were - blows. Hits designed to sell a lie.
* * *
Archie pulled out his checkbook. "I thought you would have brought up matters of remuneration sooner, old boy," he said, his tone slightly jocular. "You're the outside consultant in all this; so what would constitute an adequate daily rate for, say, one week?"
He shrugged lightly. "I would have come prepared, but private investigators tend not to display their rates online - or it seems like you don't, at least. It facilitates the initial exchange. That, and dropping a pre-written check is so unbelievably brazen."
A few more months, more saved lives, a few more paychecks in everyone's pockets, and they'd be able to consider adding ancillary improvements to the Hall. For now, however, the needed pneumatic bolt screw was easy to locate thanks to its hefty design and its bright yellow plastic casing.
From outside, it looked as though half of the container had been embedded in the basement's wall, with only a vague blue-white shimmer at the contact points indicating that two distinct points in space were intersecting. How magic compensated for atomic collision and this rather obvious break in the laws of physics, however, was anyone's guess. Two atoms couldn't occupy the same space, but it seemed like a few Fae spells included what some gamers might've called "telefragging insurance". Considering their origin and the way Faerie Gates worked, it made some sort of vague sense.
* * *
Three had expected normal pain; something dull and sharp at the same time. He'd also expected blood, a vague sense of disorientation or, well, anything related to taking a right cross straight in the jaw. Instead, Charles' punch was both underwhelming and rather shocking.
On one level, he felt nothing at all, or at least nothing you'd have construed as actual pain. No sudden tenderness in his jaw, or even the vague sense that a joint would've been strained painfully, something to the effect of his jaw snapping against his upper teeth. On another, however, it was the worst thing he'd ever endured in his life. It reflected in the way he cried out once hit - not just with the usual yelp of surprise, but with something you typically only really heard in Fae suffering under iron's influence. Some part of his mind felt the contact as every ounce of jungle fever and incipient madness, every ounce of raw aggression Charles had ever displayed even long before they'd first met, all bunched up behind his knuckles.
It was sudden, it was brief - and it was horrible. It drove home the fact that he was now a loose soul being punched by another loose soul, Jenkins' deepest essence lashing out against his own. Three needed everything he had to avoid putting his hands up and cry uncle - he now knew quite well that this was a lousy plan. As his vision cleared, however, he saw that his lousy plan was actually working. Well, somewhat.
Sheldon the demon had burst out of his office, another red-skinned humanoid with brown gabardine pants and a beige short-sleeved shirt that looked slightly too small for his gut. A rumpled tie completed the ensemble along with a black mustache and a cigarette.
"What's going on, here?!" he called out, to the tone of someone who wasn't used to trying to sound authoritarian. Judging by the bags under his eyes, Sheldon was overworked and under-appreciated, or at least terminally bored. Charles' punch had broken through that boredom, however - and was something Aidan had to follow through.
"It's this asshole that landed us here!" replied Drake, channeling that sudden Fae-like pain, essentially depression turned into something sensory instead of mental in origin, and gesturing at Charles. "I told him planting that IED in Mogadishu was a lousy fuckin' idea, and he managed to set Jihadi John's fucking spiritual successors on our tail! Six Exo guys, dead, our best squad mage is stuck with us-"
He gestured to Meris in order to include her, and then launched himself at Charles.
"- and we DON'T FUCKING DESERVE THIS!"
He couldn't afford to spare a warning or a look of apology, and rammed his left forearm against Charles' throat, his right fist coming in sharp contact with Charles' brow. As Aidan had, Charles would experience something that wasn't pain in the sensory, physical sense of the term - but that also clearly was. Drake's fist had carried the horrors of Najeeban and his guilt at having failed to save his girlfriend and squad leader, all the uncertainty he bottled away to stay functional, as well as all the anger he knew he couldn't normally express. The world didn't owe him an explanation, the Army would never care to deliver one on official grounds - if it even could - and nobody else could shoulder that bitter mixture of fear, anger, resentment and disappointment.
In a sense, a man had thrown the punch, but what had connected with Jenkins' forehead was a scared, angry, sad and confused little boy.
What would make it worse was how they didn't have time to digest that sudden and intimate exchange, and had to treat those blows as what they still were - blows. Hits designed to sell a lie.
* * *
Archie pulled out his checkbook. "I thought you would have brought up matters of remuneration sooner, old boy," he said, his tone slightly jocular. "You're the outside consultant in all this; so what would constitute an adequate daily rate for, say, one week?"
He shrugged lightly. "I would have come prepared, but private investigators tend not to display their rates online - or it seems like you don't, at least. It facilitates the initial exchange. That, and dropping a pre-written check is so unbelievably brazen."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
Aislinn, knowing that they had a limited time frame, quickly unlocked the chains. It didn't take long to find a wrench among the tools, which she used on the pods' bolts; Marianna would have plenty to work with to break the restraints.
***
Meris lunged for the two men, anger taking over her features. "STOP IT! You're just going make it worse for us, you testosterone-driven idiots!" she shouted, trying to pull them apart as part of the charade. Despite the scenario being a lie, she didn't want to have resort to punching them, as the emotional overload of 500 years of pain and turmoil would've been overkill for both of them.
***
Meris lunged for the two men, anger taking over her features. "STOP IT! You're just going make it worse for us, you testosterone-driven idiots!" she shouted, trying to pull them apart as part of the charade. Despite the scenario being a lie, she didn't want to have resort to punching them, as the emotional overload of 500 years of pain and turmoil would've been overkill for both of them.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
"Fuck off!" replied the false deceased, "Don't tell me you don't have a family you would've rather go back to!"
Not that Aidan wanted to hurt Meris' feelings, but the role they had to play came with some harsh requirements. Sheldon couldn't see that much and moved to try and split Drake and Jenkins apart.
"Look, we get it," he sighed, "you hate it here, I hate it here, we all hate it here, but that isn't how you're gonna-"
Three glared at the office worker. "There's no way in Hell you've seen what I've seen, you fat fuck. You'll get to toss morals my way when you'll have seen kids below ten years old being used as suicide bombers - not before!"
Sheldon looked like he'd heard it a thousand times before. "Don't make me call for help, alright?
- Ooooh, help!" snidely replied Drake, "yeah, sure! Call for help; I bet none of you fucking goons have ever so much as seen the barrel of a gun!"
Having at least seen the genesis of the trio's plan, Zhang sided with Sheldon. "Better get Bob," he told Sheldon, "this one's going to be trouble..."
With the demon briefly looking off to Meris to check on her, the Imperial soldier quickly slipped a wink and a thumbs-up to Jenkins and Drake. Neither of these gestures would've been natural for someone coming out of Imperial China, but it could be safe to assume that Pandemonium's nature triggered a cross-cultural bleeding effect between its residents' cultures.
Not that Aidan wanted to hurt Meris' feelings, but the role they had to play came with some harsh requirements. Sheldon couldn't see that much and moved to try and split Drake and Jenkins apart.
"Look, we get it," he sighed, "you hate it here, I hate it here, we all hate it here, but that isn't how you're gonna-"
Three glared at the office worker. "There's no way in Hell you've seen what I've seen, you fat fuck. You'll get to toss morals my way when you'll have seen kids below ten years old being used as suicide bombers - not before!"
Sheldon looked like he'd heard it a thousand times before. "Don't make me call for help, alright?
- Ooooh, help!" snidely replied Drake, "yeah, sure! Call for help; I bet none of you fucking goons have ever so much as seen the barrel of a gun!"
Having at least seen the genesis of the trio's plan, Zhang sided with Sheldon. "Better get Bob," he told Sheldon, "this one's going to be trouble..."
With the demon briefly looking off to Meris to check on her, the Imperial soldier quickly slipped a wink and a thumbs-up to Jenkins and Drake. Neither of these gestures would've been natural for someone coming out of Imperial China, but it could be safe to assume that Pandemonium's nature triggered a cross-cultural bleeding effect between its residents' cultures.
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Karl the Mad
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
The act of punching was, right off the bat, quite different. Charles wasn't swinging with his fists, but with his very soul? His actual self? He wondered if he could damage it if he swung too hard.
And being hit back? What the hell was that? Like being smacked across the face with the War on Terror, or something. He lashed out again, wondering what Three would get a taste of that time. The hunger and misery of the Great Depression? Some hint of the horrors he'd experienced during the Second World War?
Their quarry showed up before he could ask about it, though. "Can't git 'elp fer us, pally," he sneered, putting his hands on his hips.
----------------------------------
Even though they were on a time limit, Mary had to take a moment to glance at the precise point where the container and the basement overlapped. She was quite certain a molecular physicist would have all kinds of interesting things to say about it, but she wasn't a molecular physicist and could only wonder in silence at this display of Tom's powers.
In the next moment she shook her head and got down to business, first slipping a pair of safety glasses on before grabbing a battery-powered grinder and testing it. A quick burr gave confirmation, and she set to work on the bolts and chains, taking each section quickly and efficiently and moving on to the next.
-----------------------------------
"Brazen indeed," Jericho replied, slipping into thought. "Hmm, allow me a moment..." An hourly rate, eh. Usually he was hired to track someone down, and with his supernatural senses he rarely needed more than a day or so. And he felt that a job that didn't take much effort, shouldn't be charged much on the flip side. But then, if he always did that, he'd wind up in the flophouses. So he never held to a fixed rate; for instance, a mother or father searching for their lost child might only be charged a couple hundred bucks, if even that, but an abusive man wanting his wife or girlfriend back, or something similar, he was much more likely to overcharge.
Even then, if it was bad enough, he felt no compunctions at all about taking the money, giving it to the intended target and helping them further escape away.
But this? Archie was hiring him for an extended job, clearly, and it would very likely get extremely hazardous. All the talk about artifacts, coupled with what he knew about that little micro-industry, told him to prepare for anything and everything.
"...fifteen hundred dollars," he finally said, "with option to charge hazard pay and expenses after completion of the job." Obviously, Holden would have no problem paying as much, if not more, but Jericho had a sense of fairness about him. Once the hazard pay came back up, though? All bets would be off.
------------------------------------
Meanwhile, back at Wyvern...
An envelope lay on Kuhn's desk.
A manila envelope, addressed to Katherine Starr. The sender was not named, but a simple internet search of the address revealed it originated from one of the Planned Parenthood clinics in the city. It had been there all morning, unobtrusive and naturally quite silent. Interesting.
Katherine herself had been overseas, of course, and had come back earlier in the week only long enough to shower, pack some more clothes, and regale Kuhn with a vague story about meeting up with Charles Jenkins later on for some unspecified reason. She had, in fact, mentioned the man quite a lot over the last month or so. Not in any obvious way, or in a manner that indicated she was hiding anything. But still.
And she hadn't been back in the office all week since then.
Yet there was the envelope, sitting on Kuhn's desk, clearly meant for Katherine. Had some courier got things mixed up? Very interesting, indeed.
((Check your PMs again, L.))
And being hit back? What the hell was that? Like being smacked across the face with the War on Terror, or something. He lashed out again, wondering what Three would get a taste of that time. The hunger and misery of the Great Depression? Some hint of the horrors he'd experienced during the Second World War?
Their quarry showed up before he could ask about it, though. "Can't git 'elp fer us, pally," he sneered, putting his hands on his hips.
----------------------------------
Even though they were on a time limit, Mary had to take a moment to glance at the precise point where the container and the basement overlapped. She was quite certain a molecular physicist would have all kinds of interesting things to say about it, but she wasn't a molecular physicist and could only wonder in silence at this display of Tom's powers.
In the next moment she shook her head and got down to business, first slipping a pair of safety glasses on before grabbing a battery-powered grinder and testing it. A quick burr gave confirmation, and she set to work on the bolts and chains, taking each section quickly and efficiently and moving on to the next.
-----------------------------------
"Brazen indeed," Jericho replied, slipping into thought. "Hmm, allow me a moment..." An hourly rate, eh. Usually he was hired to track someone down, and with his supernatural senses he rarely needed more than a day or so. And he felt that a job that didn't take much effort, shouldn't be charged much on the flip side. But then, if he always did that, he'd wind up in the flophouses. So he never held to a fixed rate; for instance, a mother or father searching for their lost child might only be charged a couple hundred bucks, if even that, but an abusive man wanting his wife or girlfriend back, or something similar, he was much more likely to overcharge.
Even then, if it was bad enough, he felt no compunctions at all about taking the money, giving it to the intended target and helping them further escape away.
But this? Archie was hiring him for an extended job, clearly, and it would very likely get extremely hazardous. All the talk about artifacts, coupled with what he knew about that little micro-industry, told him to prepare for anything and everything.
"...fifteen hundred dollars," he finally said, "with option to charge hazard pay and expenses after completion of the job." Obviously, Holden would have no problem paying as much, if not more, but Jericho had a sense of fairness about him. Once the hazard pay came back up, though? All bets would be off.
------------------------------------
Meanwhile, back at Wyvern...
An envelope lay on Kuhn's desk.
A manila envelope, addressed to Katherine Starr. The sender was not named, but a simple internet search of the address revealed it originated from one of the Planned Parenthood clinics in the city. It had been there all morning, unobtrusive and naturally quite silent. Interesting.
Katherine herself had been overseas, of course, and had come back earlier in the week only long enough to shower, pack some more clothes, and regale Kuhn with a vague story about meeting up with Charles Jenkins later on for some unspecified reason. She had, in fact, mentioned the man quite a lot over the last month or so. Not in any obvious way, or in a manner that indicated she was hiding anything. But still.
And she hadn't been back in the office all week since then.
Yet there was the envelope, sitting on Kuhn's desk, clearly meant for Katherine. Had some courier got things mixed up? Very interesting, indeed.
((Check your PMs again, L.))
-
TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter III: The Fall
Keeping the dramatic scene going, Meris ignored Sheldon and glared at 'Adam', believable angry tears welling up in her eyes. "No, you fuck off, Adam! We're dead; there's no coming back from that! We're never going to see our families again! Stop making things worse!" she seethed, clenched fists quivering at her sides.
***
Once the bolts and chains had been disposed of, Aislinn wheeled out the pod containing the young woman into the basement. To ensure getting their task done in time, she used her telekinesis to move the other two containers out, all three clustered side by side.
***
Once the bolts and chains had been disposed of, Aislinn wheeled out the pod containing the young woman into the basement. To ensure getting their task done in time, she used her telekinesis to move the other two containers out, all three clustered side by side.