Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9 Chapter 22 - Intermission Subject: AAE: A Wee Bit of Chaos On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 12:54:29 -0800 (PST) Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012253 "Beat him" "Killed him" "Am him" "Killed him" "Am her" Chaos tossed aside the photographs with a depressed sigh. The photos floated down slowly towards where the ground might have been were there such around, but then just faded into nothingness, leaving Chaos once again to wander the tractless bounds between the facets of the Multiverse, alone with his thoughts. "Bored bored bored bored... Bored bored bored bored...boredboredboredBOREDba-bored!" He sighed and scartches an eat which turned instantly into a nose causing him to sneeze, "How can it be that *I* could be bored? Isn't that paradoxical?" Chaos shook her head at Chaos, "though then that would be something patterned and wouldn't be chaotic now would it?" Chaos took Chaos by the hand and started dancing a waltz to the soft strains of Guns of Roses, "Well that's is true, or maybe it's a lie? No I wouldn't lie to myself would I?" "Of course I would." Chaos replied as he dipped Chaos back and gave him a kiss, then dropped him to fall to the featherpile below. "Wait... I have an idea!! Let's play... COSMIC FUED!!!" The game set started to slowly materialize around Chaos as his garb changed to a garishly colored suit and a pompdor large enough to house a family of three on. To each side of him stood five very startled cosmic entities, plucked out of the multiverse at Chaos's slightest whim. "And tonight we have the Kangs verses the Qs! Kangs! Q's! Come on down!! You both know the rules or should being omnipotent so I won't bother to repeat them Instead let's just get to the first question. I'm looking for the number one answ..." Q quickly pushed the buzzer with a smug look on his face, "In order, the answers are Moe, Curly, Larry, Shemp, and Curly Joe " Chaos glances down at his card in his hand and held it up in front of Q, "I'm sorry that's WRONG Don't try to secondguess Chaos. The question WAS name a rollerskating superhero!" But since you gave me 5 answers, that's three strikes against you now nad we'll save two for later. Kang! It's your chance to steal for zero points!" Kang scratched the side of his helmet with a fingertip, "Ummm Dazzler?" Chaos gestured to the board behind him and number 3 flips down to reveal Dazzler. "Ok Who else did we have up there? Everyone shout them out with me! Iron man! Kitty Pryde! Rocket Racer! Hey he had a skateboard didn't he? Damnit that's what we get for asking these questions to Chaos." Chaos tossed the card behind him and it erupted in a miniature nuclear explosion, "OK Next question and since they Q's are cheater poopypants we'll just go over to the Kang side! Kang, introduce us to your team!" Kang blinked a little in confusion, " Well Chaos.. Uhh this is Kang, next to him is Kang, then that's Kang over there, and then the last member is our youngest here and he's Kang." Chaos wandered down the row shaking hands and exchanging kisses, "OK, now doe your questions. Name me... a weakness of Superman!" Q jumped up and down waving his hands, " I know! I know! I know!" but on his last jump, a hole in space and time appeared underneath him, flinging him to Chaos only knows where. But a moment later another Q was there in his place. Good thing it's a big continuum. Kang just stood there dumbfounded. He looked over to his Fellow Kangs and then back at Chaos, "Ummm Who's Superman?" Chaos pressed a big red button that appeared in the air in front of him, "No Sorry, this isn't the game show where you phrase your answers like questions. You all lose!" With a wave of his hand it all disappeared except for a small lizard riding a tricycle across the white nothingness. "No that wasn't amusing at all." Walking past the lizard Chaos scratched his chins, "Maybe reading would help..." He flopped down into a La-Z-Boy chair and reached over to the bookcase that appeared, taking down Volume 37 of the Callahanian Army of Light Manga. "Hrmmm I haven't poked in on them in what seems like... well... at least twenty seconds! Or is a couple decades? Ahh well it all goes by so fast! Still not so fun since all the volumes with Driss are over with. Who'd think you could read 1000 years of lifetime in the bathtub without even geting wrinkly?" He set the book back and raised his eyebrow at another book sitting there, "Re-incarnation and You." hrrmmm He started flipping through the pages "Hrrrmmm reincarnation.. There's an idea I ordered Driss to live for 1000 years... I never really said he could rest FOREVER after that..." he chuckled as a playful glint sparkled in his eyes, "Time to get to work!!" On Champions Island, the base computer suddenly chimed up, "Cosmic Entity at the door. Cosmic Entity at the door... La Cucaracha... La Cucaracha... la la la la la la La Cucharacha La Chucaracha... la la la la la la la..." Moniters lit up to the front door cameras, including moniters that weren't even supposed to be able to do so. And giving camera angles there weren't even cameras for. They all showed a penguin with a horse's head dressed in a little brown unifrom with CPS stenciled on the back. He carried balanced on one wing a large silver coffin wrapped up in red ribbon with a bow and checked on his clipboard in the other. Nodding his head, he dropped off the coffin and then went back to a hot pink panel van that steadly shrunk down until it popped out of existence once he entered it. Leaving just the mysterious gift on the doorstep along with a tag for Roland and Morgan. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE: A Wee Bit of Chaos On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 16:18:43 -0800 Rio Said As CAoL Message # 00012286 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 12:54:29 -0800 (PST) >Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012253 > > On Champions Island, the base computer suddenly chimed up, "Cosmic >Entity at the door. Cosmic Entity at the door... La Cucaracha... La >Cucaracha... la la la la la la La Cucharacha La Chucaracha... la la >la la la la la..." "What the..." Rio looks up at the...unusual...alert. Kanto gives the computer a dirty look, then draws his saber and blaster and moves towards the still-prone Zia-Prime. >Moniters lit up to the front door cameras, including moniters that >weren't even supposed to be able to do so. And giving camera angles >there weren't even cameras for. Turning to the console, Rio enters commands, none of which stop the systems from doing whatever it is they seem to want to do. "It doesn't feel dangerous, but..." she shakes her head in puzzlement. Seemingly out of nowhere, Edward Q. Jefferies, "gentleman's gentleman" to the Champions, emerges from whatever netherchamber he had been taking care of moments before. "Shall I get the door then, Miss Lancer?" The Ecstatic hums quietly to herself, feeling down the timelines. "It seems safe enough, for now at least. Yes, thank you, Jefferies." As Kanto relaxes slightly, Jefferies strides smoothly and crisply out of the room and toward the entrance. "He's one of a very few people who can get away with calling me that," Rio grins at Kanto. >They all showed a penguin with a horse's head dressed in a little >brown unifrom with CPS stenciled on the back. He carried balanced on >one wing a large silver coffin wrapped up in red ribbon with a bow >and checked on his clipboard in the other. Nodding his head, he >dropped off the coffin and then went back to a hot pink panel van >that steadly shrunk down until it popped out of existence once he >entered it. Leaving just the mysterious gift on the doorstep along >with a tag for Roland and Morgan. The Champions' chief of staff opens the large, impressive gateway with a gesture. "Ah. I see one of the local cosmic entities has taken an interest in our activities again." He presses a console next to the archway. "{Miss Lancer, if I may be so bold, I would recommend moving this acquisition to the holding chamber until my employers return.}" "That sounds wise," Rio responds, working the Island's control console. "All attempts to scan the contents, physical _or_ magickal, are..." she sits back in disgust. "Giving bupkis. It'll probably stay inert until the addressees get back, so the holding chamber's as good as anyplace." "{Very good, miss,}" Jefferies replies calmly, calling up a simple robot drone to transport the...package. "As expected," he sighs. "These beings think themselves wits, and are inevitably fifty percent correct." =========================== Subject: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 23:08:06 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012334 >On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 02:55:12 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012332 > >>On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 23:40:53 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012330 [Ed. note: Snip stuff that's in chapter 4 of the Middle Earth section] * Later. Roland looks at the Champions' trophy case, smiling and weighing the medal in his hand. "Pity we can't hang these in there," he chuckles. "Having a couple of George Crosses hanging next to the Mechanon head would really add a touch of class." (OOC: They were given to all members of the Middle-Earth team who didn't duck out of the ceremony. Enjoy yourselves -- you earned it. See http://www.stephen-stratford.co.uk/george_cross.htm for a pic. Harlock was granted one in absentia unless he made it back or the others were _sure_ he wouldn't want one.) "That's okay. I think they'll look nice in the den," Morgan replies fondly, her arm around his shoulders. "Once we can bring the house back from Arcadia," she adds, her expression becoming more thoughtful. "Sir, madam," Jeffries says softly, "if I may?" Roland sighs and smiles. "I don't suppose I can get you to call me Roland, Jeffries?" "You haven't yet, sir," Jeffries replies, not quite grinning. "What is it, Jeffries?" Morgan asks. "A package was delivered, madam," the super-butler replies crisply. "A cosmic entity delivered it. I believe it was an avatar of Chaos, given the 'description' in the archives." Roland and Morgan groan in perfect time. The former Freelance Immortal takes his forehead in one hand and massages it. "What's the saying? 'It's always sumthin'?'" Morgan asks, rubbing her temples. "Pretty much," Roland replies. "Okay, let's see it." "If you would follow me then, sir," Jeffries says, motioning professionally then marching toward the holding room. "And if I may be so bold, sir, madam...it is precisely the service you offer to the world which inspires me to serve in my own small fashion." Roland stops for a moment, then hurries briefly to keep up. "Edward...I'm touched. Really." After a moment, he adds with as much power as he can, "And _never_ think what you do here is 'small.' I don't know how we managed without you." "Ahem," Jeffries coughs, then opens the door, revealing the coffin. "Oh boy," the Eternal sighs. "At least it's not a _dead_ body," Morgan notes. "I don't...think." The Island rumbles slightly. Roland looks around, suddenly on edge. "That is simply the Slingshot returning, sir," Jeffries assures him. "It is a very familiar, and most welcome, sound. I will attend to it while you deal with the present circumstance, with your permission of course." "Of course, Jeffries," Roland nods. (OOC: ping Driscoll. 8^) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Wed, 29 Dec 2004 13:02:30 -0800 (PST) Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012337 --- "L.J. Wolfe" wrote: >"At least it's not a _dead_ body," Morgan notes. "I don't...think." > > The Island rumbles slightly. > Roland looks around, suddenly on edge. > "That is simply the Slingshot returning, sir," Jeffries assures >him. "It is a very familiar, and most welcome, sound. I will attend >to it while you deal with the present circumstance, with your >permission of course." > "Of course, Jeffries," Roland nods. During the breif distraction, the casket begins to move. Slowly one end of it rises up a bit as the entire thing is encased in a soft white glow. Small cherubs with the heads of kitty cats flutter about and slowly start to lift the lid of the casket while another with the head of an aadrvark floats at the head of the casket reading off a scroll, "It is the pleasure of the High Lord, Master, God, and Body of the Multiverse, the magnificent Chaos that you, Roland Phoex... Hrrmmm shouldn't that be Phoenix? Oh well I guess you'll just have to change your name Ummmm Where was I? Oh Yes Roland Phoex and you Morgan delePhoenix hereby be presented into your safekeeping the Celestial Maddonna Drilea. Now it is my pleasure to reunite you all again." The kitten headed cherubs open up the casket to reveal a beautiful young woman laying in repose. Her eyes closed and apparently asleep. She looks to be maybe 18 or 19 years old, with long golden blonde hair that tumbles across the silk lining of the casket though a gold tiara set with emeralds holds it out of her face. She's dressed in a short dress of briliantly white silk, her hands lain crossed over her chest. Her feet are clad in roman style sandals that lace up over the calves. There are other items around her in the casket as well, a harlequin mask lays next to her head, a wand by her left side, several pouches on her right, and a small stilleto between her legs. Slowly she starts to stir and her emeralf green eyes flutter open, "Oh my..." she says with a voice so sweet and melodic it sounds like she's singing even when only speaking, "What a strange dream..." Her eyes begin to take in thos eassembled, "Morgan! Roland! Ummm why are you standing there staring at me like that and who's that other guy next to you?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 05:03:53 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012338 >On Wed, 29 Dec 2004 13:02:30 -0800 (PST) >Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012337 > > --- "L.J. Wolfe" wrote: >>"At least it's not a _dead_ body," Morgan notes. "I don't...think." >> >> The Island rumbles slightly. Tink puts the final touch on the holoturtle (and anything else) she'd been working on, then dismisses the image. "Oh, I can't miss this." To those in the plane, she adds, "Here's a holoimage." Meanwhile, a second Tink appears in the cargo bay with a holovid camera with a live feed (to the Slingshot or wherever the Tink and company head off to) and a large banner reading 'Welcome back, Uncle Driscoll!' > During the breif distraction, the casket begins to move. Slowly one >end of it rises up a bit as the entire thing is encased in a soft >white glow. Small cherubs with the heads of kitty cats flutter about >and slowly start to lift the lid of the casket while another with the >head of an aadrvark floats at the head of the casket reading off a >scroll, "It is the pleasure of the High Lord, Master, God, and Body >of the Multiverse, the magnificent Chaos that you, Roland Phoex... >Hrrmmm shouldn't that be Phoenix? Oh well I guess you'll just have to >change your name Ummmm Where was I? Oh Yes Roland Phoex and you >Morgan delePhoenix hereby be presented into your safekeeping the >Celestial Maddonna Drilea. Now it is my pleasure to reunite you all >again." Tink pauses, looks up at the banner, whips out a magic marker, and crosses out 'Uncle Driscoll,' then neatly writes 'Aunt Drilea' just above it. The holocamera never wavers in its shot. > Slowly she starts to stir and her emeralf green eyes flutter open, >"Oh my..." she says with a voice so sweet and melodic it sounds like >she's singing even when only speaking, "What a strange dream..." Her >eyes begin to take in thos eassembled, "Morgan! Roland! Ummm why are >you standing there staring at me like that and who's that other guy >next to you?" Tink^2 moves into view of Drilea along with the 'Welcome Back' sign, the holoimage arcing around smoothly as she does. Her smile is infectous, although 'Aunt Drilea' and company may have an understandable, built-in, situational immunity. -- Tink *passing around pictures* "Here's Grumpa pre-Voyd, Voyd, Borg-Queen Voyd, Anna Mahloy and normal-but-female. And here's Uncle Roland as Sailor Moon. And here's Uncle Driscoll as Drilea. Ooo, and here's Chaos with Counsellor Troi cleavage!" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 22:40:20 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012339 >On Wed, 29 Dec 2004 13:02:30 -0800 (PST) >Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012337 > > During the breif distraction, the casket begins to move. Slowly one >end of it rises up a bit as the entire thing is encased in a soft >white glow. Small cherubs with the heads of kitty cats flutter about >and slowly start to lift the lid of the casket while another with the >head of an aadrvark floats at the head of the casket reading off a >scroll, "It is the pleasure of the High Lord, Master, God, and Body >of the Multiverse, the magnificent Chaos that you, Roland Phoex... >Hrrmmm shouldn't that be Phoenix? Oh well I guess you'll just have to >change your name Ummmm Where was I? Oh Yes Roland Phoex and you >Morgan delePhoenix hereby be presented into your safekeeping the >Celestial Maddonna Drilea. Now it is my pleasure to reunite you all >again." Rolessar blinks, fingering the helm-crown absently. "Celestial Madonna?" /I didn't know Earth-9 _had_ a Celestial Madonna. And this isn't leftovers from Apokolips, Mantis is a _Marvel_ character./ /Consider the source, dear,/ Morgan replies, a touch of resignation in her voice. /Or the Source?/ the knight-Champion quips. > Slowly she starts to stir and her emeralf green eyes flutter open, >"Oh my..." she says with a voice so sweet and melodic it sounds like >she's singing even when only speaking, "What a strange dream..." Her >eyes begin to take in thos eassembled, "Morgan! Roland! Ummm why are >you standing there staring at me like that and who's that other guy >next to you?" "Milady," Rolessar replies gallantly, if with a touch of humor, "I am certain that if I had met a woman of your beauty, I would remem-" he stops as Morgan grabs his shoulder emphatically. /M'eudail?/ >On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 05:03:53 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012338 > Tink^2 moves into view of Drilea along with the 'Welcome Back' >sign, the holoimage arcing around smoothly as she does. Her smile is >infectous, although 'Aunt Drilea' and company may have an >understandable, built-in, situational immunity. Rolessar looks from Tink, to the slightly pale Morgan, then back to the beautiful figure still in the casket. "It happened again, huh, Mike? Ah, Michelle?" he asks, the humor in his voice shifting to that of fond familiarity. Morgan just shakes her head 'no.' Slowly, finally, the realization hits him, and his eyes flicker to the Harlequin mask in the coffin. "Ah, Edward, fetch a mirror, would you please?" "Don't bother, Edward," Morgan cuts in, holding up Aramegil and showing 'Drilea' the flat of the blade...which is wide and reflective enough to serve. >-- Tink >*passing around pictures* "Here's Grumpa pre-Voyd, Voyd, Borg-Queen >Voyd, Anna Mahloy and normal-but-female. And here's Uncle Roland as >Sailor Moon. And here's Uncle Driscoll as Drilea. Ooo, and here's >Chaos with Counsellor Troi cleavage!" Roland quietly incinerates the picture of him *QUANTUM LEAPED* into Sailor Moon (important distinction ;^), while shielding Tink's fingers from the heat (yes, even in an OOC .sig response 8^). =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Fri, 31 Dec 2004 14:33:29 -0800 (PST) Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012341 >On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 22:40:20 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012339 > "Milady," Rolessar replies gallantly, if with a touch of humor, "I >am certain that if I had met a woman of your beauty, I would remem-" >he stops as Morgan grabs his shoulder emphatically. /M'eudail?/ Drilea raises her eyebrows as she starts to sit up, "Roland have you been taking some blows to the head as of late? I fear your wits have been wittled down..." >> Tink^2 moves into view of Drilea along with the 'Welcome Back' >>sign, the holoimage arcing around smoothly as she does. Her smile is >>infectous, although 'Aunt Drilea' and company may have an >>understandable, built-in, situational immunity. > > Rolessar looks from Tink, to the slightly pale Morgan, then back >to the beautiful figure still in the casket. "It happened again, huh, >Mike? Ah, Michelle?" he asks, the humor in his voice shifting to that >of fond familiarity. Drilea shakes her head, "Now I know you've lost it Roland. Mike nad I don't likke anything alike." She steps from the casket and glances down as she does so, "Ok, why am I in a dress?" > Morgan just shakes her head 'no.' Slowly, finally, the realization >hits him, and his eyes flicker to the Harlequin mask in the coffin. >"Ah, Edward, fetch a mirror, would you please?" > >"Don't bother, Edward," Morgan cuts in, holding up Aramegil and >showing 'Drilea' the flat of the blade...which is wide and reflective >enough to serve. Drilea looks into the blade and realization doesn't quite register for a few moments. Driss's old feature were delicate tot he point of being elvish looking, and Drilea's face isn't that different in the bent image on the blade... But the hair's a little filler.. and longer... The lips are fuller and redder ad when she raises her arm to touch her lips, it bumps into the rather well formed breasts. Drilea's color starts to pale much like Morgan's, "What the he..." Suddenly her eyes begin to glow brightly with a warm golden light and her hair hair starts tossing about her head as if dancing in the breeze. She speak again, but the voice is a bit differnt, "This one is grateful for your releasing of her. This one shall now claim her possessions." Her long delicate fingers dance in quick gestures and soft words chant melodically from her lips. A wind picks up and the pouches and wand and dagger all lift up from the casket and swirm about her. The pouches tie themselves to the sash of cloth around her waist that acts as a belt, the wand secures itself to her left thigh, and the dagger then adorns her right. She picks up the mask and looks at it curiously. "This one is not certain to whom this belongs for she has not seen it before." She looks back, her gaze moving from person to person and falling on Tink's sign, "This one see you are aware her name is Drilea. She is the Celestial Maddonna of Quaren. Destined to be mother to the child that shall unite those magical folk and the Technorganic race called the Thrun." She looks about with curiosity, "This one is not sure where she is right now however..." =========================== Subject: AAE9n: Home Again, Home Again On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:01:30 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012351 >On Sun, 16 Jan 2005 04:57:48 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012350 >>On Tue, 11 Jan 2005 23:52:13 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012349 >> >> After they leave, the look of fear on Mobius' face vanishes >>utterly and he looks at Karma quizzically. "Was I convincing? I owe >>him that much." > > Karma giggles, "You had me convinced for a moment, at least." Mobius grins, a bit of 'wickedness' still there. >> "We return our new companions," he says, gesturing at the massive >>console in front of them, "to their base of operations. I accompany >>them. You--" >> "--accompany _you._" The Asp's tone is final. > > Karma smiles at the Scarlet Asp, "I knew I liked you." The Asp blinks in astonishment at Karma. "Ah...didn't I capture you?" >> Several seconds later, the entire area vanishes, to reappear on >> Champions Island. A very proper-looking British butler stands there waiting for them. Beside him is a cart filled with refreshments from both America and the Egyptian region (ancient and modern), hands folded behind his back. "Welcome. You have been expected. The Champions are dealing with some unusual circumstances -- unusual even by their standards, I hasten to add -- but all efforts have been and will be made to make your stay as comfortable as possible." The Asp boggles, but Mobius merely smiles. "Thank you, ah...Jeffries, yes?" "Indeed." Jeffries bows slightly. "how did you know?" the Asp whispers to the now-good Doctor. "i have done my homework." "but how did _they_ know we were _coming?_" "aside from their varied telepathic abilities, a fragment of blaze _was_ with us," Mobius replies, "and no doubt gave orders upon his return." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9n: Omega and Alpha On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:26:12 -0800 Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012352 At 12:02 AM 1/12/2005 -0800, you wrote: > Once folx have indicated positively, he throws a large >old-fashioned electric switch. Tesla coils crackle with lightning, >circles of energy flow up and down around them, and multi-colored >light ripples throughout the cylinder. > Several seconds later, the entire area vanishes, to reappear on >Champions Island. Quiet Moon glances at the (presumably still) bound and gagged figure of Darkstock. "What of this one? He is too dangerous to be left to his own devices." OOC: Replies, comments, offers of cash prizes...please? "If it is alright, I would ask this one some questions if there is time. He may have information on a quarry that I have been pursuing for some time..." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9n: Home Again, Home Again On Sat, 29 Jan 2005 01:35:59 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012353 >On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:01:30 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012351 >>On Sun, 16 Jan 2005 04:57:48 -0000 >>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012350 >>>On Tue, 11 Jan 2005 23:52:13 -0800 >>>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012349 >> >> Karma smiles at the Scarlet Asp, "I knew I liked you." > > The Asp blinks in astonishment at Karma. "Ah...didn't I capture >you?" Karma grins, "Just a feeling, you treated me well. Had circumstances been different..." Karma shrugs. > A very proper-looking British butler stands there waiting for >them. Beside him is a cart filled with refreshments from both America >and the Egyptian region (ancient and modern), hands folded behind his >back. "Welcome. You have been expected. The Champions are dealing >with some unusual circumstances -- unusual even by their standards, I >hasten to add -- but all efforts have been and will be made to make >your stay as comfortable as possible." "Thank you, Jeffries," Karma says, sipping at a soft drink, "Did the Champions say they needed any assistance? If not, I think I'm going to need another change of clothes, eventually. This dress isn't terribly suited to adventuring. Except Japan, currently." OOC: I'm good until we're ready to move on, unless someone needs me. Karma says she's getting spoiled at this rate. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Sat, 05 Feb 2005 21:43:59 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012354 >On Fri, 31 Dec 2004 14:33:29 -0800 (PST) >Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012341 >>On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 22:40:20 -0800 >>Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012339 > Drilea looks into the blade and realization doesn't quite register >for a few moments. Driss's old feature were delicate tot he point of >being elvish looking, and Drilea's face isn't that different in the >bent image on the blade... But the hair's a little filler.. and >longer... The lips are fuller and redder ad when she raises her arm >to touch her lips, it bumps into the rather well formed breasts. >Drilea's color starts to pale much like Morgan's, "What the he..." >Suddenly her eyes begin to glow brightly with a warm golden light and >her hair hair starts tossing about her head as if dancing in the >breeze. She speak again, but the voice is a bit differnt, "This one >is grateful for your releasing of her. This one shall now claim her >possessions." Roland looks at Morgan. /???/ ^This one has no clue,^ Morgan replies. ^Don't _you_ start,^ Roland fires back, his case of nerves evident across their link. > ...She picks up the mask and looks at it curiously. > "This one is not certain to whom this belongs for she has not seen >it before." She looks back, her gaze moving from person to person and >falling on Tink's sign, "This one see you are aware her name is >Drilea. She is the Celestial Maddonna of Quaren. Destined to be >mother to the child that shall unite those magical folk and the >Technorganic race called the Thrun." She looks about with curiosity, >"This one is not sure where she is right now however..." "Celestial...ah. Of course. Forgive us. I am Roland, a...champion of this time and place," the Eternal explains. /Well, that explains why she sounds like Mantis./ He regards the Quarenian Celestial Madonna - slash - swashbuckler/annoyance/friend that is Driscoll carefully. "This is...a base of operations, for myself and my colleagues. We believe you were brought here by the concept-entity 'Chaos.'" He glances sidelong at Morgan, then continues. We think it did this because...ah, well, you appear to be sharing a body with a friend of ours, and unless I miss my guess Chaos stuck his consciousness in there with you because, well, he enjoys doing that sort of thing to him." "It may also be because Driscoll -- our friend -- was at one time the God of Thieves of Quaren. That," Morgan nods towards the mask, "was his. It's...complicated," she finishes with a shrug. Roland is about to continue, when... >On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:26:12 -0800 >Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012352 > >Quiet Moon glances at the (presumably still) bound and gagged figure >of Darkstock. "What of this one? He is too dangerous to be left to >his own devices." > >"If it is alright, I would ask this one some questions if there is >time. He may have information on a quarry that I have been pursuing >for some time..." @As far as I'm concerned,@ the Hunter Lenses in his usual even tone, @he's all yours.@ >On Sat, 29 Jan 2005 01:35:59 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012353 >>On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:01:30 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012351 >> >> A very proper-looking British butler stands there waiting for >>them. Beside him is a cart filled with refreshments from both >>America and the Egyptian region (ancient and modern), hands folded >>behind his back. "Welcome. You have been expected. The Champions are >>dealing with some unusual circumstances -- unusual even by their >>standards, I hasten to add -- but all efforts have been and will be >>made to make your stay as comfortable as possible." >> The Asp boggles, but Mobius merely smiles. "Thank you, >>ah...Jeffries, yes?" >> "Indeed." Jeffries bows slightly. > > "Thank you, Jeffries," Karma says, sipping at a soft drink, "Did >the Champions say they needed any assistance? If not, I think I'm >going to need another change of clothes, eventually. This dress isn't >terribly suited to adventuring. Except Japan, currently." "The situations in both the land of my birth and northern Africa seem to have been resolved successfully, and Master Eric..." Jeffries carefully doesn't glance over at the Hunter, but manages to take in his state all the same, "...has been extracted from his durance vile. Those members who can return seem to have done so, in preparation for the next phase of the conflict, save for Quantum and Obsidian -- ah, and here they are now." Indeed, as Jeffries spoke, the two Champions who had been absent reappear in a swirling cylinder of multi-colored light, Obsidian's ebon sheath cracked and faintly bleeding violet light through the wounds, and Quantum looking rather battered, her costume torn as if artfully for a comic book panel. Both, however, are smiling. Meanwhile, Roland has psychically taken in (more or less) all of this as evenly as he can. His eyes bulge slightly. /Eric?/ he asks. @/Infra-Red. Queen of Spades. Long story. Tell you later./@ Eric pauses on his way to physical-Zia's side. @/Fixing this will take too long right now, even for Solitaire. If she can grow me a gland that will generate my own blood source, on the other hand, I'd appreciate it. Otherwise, I might become a liability./@ /On it,/ Morgan sends, politely excusing herself and leaving to help the Hunter. Roland clears his throat. "We're in the middle of a...severe crisis just at the moment. You're welcome to remain here, if you wish. There are few safer places on our world. Returning you to your homeworld would be fairly simple, but I suspect that Chaos would simply bring you back here." The Champion pauses. *Jeffries? If you have a moment?* [Of course, Mr. Phoenix,] Jeffries replies, excusing himself from Pharaoh Mobius, Karma, and company to return to the storage chamber. "We also have mentalists who might be able to help you with your...situation. Unfortunately, I have several other crises to attend to, many of them of enormous consequence." Jeffries arrives in that moment. "This is Edward Jeffries, our chief steward. He will attend to your needs as time and his considerable abilities permit." Jeffries bows to Drilea as Roland follows his lady wife's example. "Would you like me to show you to quarters, madam, or perhaps to a place where you can learn more about this time and place?" A minute or so later... "{/Attention fellow Champions, Callahanians, and other friends and allies,/}" Roland says/sends through the lens link and on the island's loudspeakers. "{/I recommend taking this opportunity to recuperate as your natures may require -- food, rest, and so on -- and ask everyone to gather in the Ready Room in eight hours. Gateways to faster or slower timelines are available on request. That is all./}" Roland leans back wearily into his chair in the Champions Island control room. [When, by the Source,] he thinks wearily, [when did this get so _hard?_] =========================== Subject: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 00:02:39 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012355 A door slides open. Eric, the Hunter, passes through it. The result is a strange tableau, even for the Callahanian Army of Light. Kanto, the New God of Assassins, lounges insouciantly in a chair juggling several daggers in one hand. He is making eyes at a lovely lady in a nearby chair. For the merest fraction of a second, his gaze flickered to the door as it opened, but with the entrant recognized, he returns to showing off and flirting. The lovely lady in question does not seem to be interested in the flirting or the showing off. Dressed in a tie-dyed T-shirt and blue jeans, with an advanced MP3 player on one hip, Rio looks anxiously at the newcomer. Eric glances between the two casually, noting the rather increased familiarity between the two. He considers threatening Kanto, dismisses it as a pointless exercise (he wouldn't mean it unless Rio had been unwilling, in which case Kanto would _already_ be dead), then looks at the room's final occupant. Lying on a couch is Ziactrice, a Lady of Amber (among many other places). Eric looks at her with concern. (OOC: I'm not mentioning UV or other chromatic Zias at this point to allow their writer to situate them to her satisfaction. 8^) As her brother enters the room, Rio stands, concern clear on her face. She takes a step towards him, then stops, realizing that the physical contact of a hug might be more painful than comforting. "Ricky..." Kanto slowly stops juggling, each dagger vanishing as it returns to his hand. He watches as a moment passes between brother and sister. "Hunter." He looks the Exalt over. "You look like hell," he says with surprising sympathy. "I've been better," Eric admits. He finds a seat where he can watch over Zia and Rio without being too close to either. "I appreciate what you have done, and not asking to be 'relieved' as soon as I came in." He smiles faintly, keeping his lips firmly sealed. "You're off the hook. Beat it." Kanto yawns and stretches. "I will go...in my own time," he comments casually. "It has been an eventful day, and now that my time is my own again, I can keep a watchful eye without devoting myself to it." Eric grunts. It could almost be a chuckle. "Suit yourself." He looks over at his sister. "How are you holding up, Kiri?" The Ecstatic chuckles dryly. "Oh, yeah, it's been _so_ rough," she says with grimly amused sarcasm. "Monitor duty is hell. I don't know _how_ Orchid puts up with it." She gives her brother an aggrieved look. "How am _I_? I've been...safely on this island while you were... while the Queen of Spades was..." She gestured aimlessly as words failed her. Eric leaned back, hand coming up to his mouth contemplatively. "Orchid doesn't always work the monitor. They rotate. As for...the rest..." he glances away. "It has been my experience that decent people are often more pained by the suffering of those they love than their own. Doubly so for Callahanians." Rio sighs and shrugs, acknowledging the point. After a moment, the Hunter continues. "I...am not 'hungry' at the moment. And when all this is over, I suspect that our various allies can undo what Infra-Red has done." He grins coldly. "Fortunate, don't you think, that we know the one woman on the planet who is at least the Queen's equal in Life magicks?" "Why, thank you, Eric," Morgan grins, walking in the door in time to hear the Hunter's last comment. "Seeker filled me in on the situation as well as he could. May I?" Eric nods, and the sorceress scans her patient. (OOC from Morgan: Again, I know that Zia might have at least one character here. Feel free to include them in the conversation, as Morgan isn't so ill-bred as to ignore her/them *g*.) Simply put, Eric is a mess. Though unusual even by Exalted standards, Eric was still a Solar, and Solars, while tremendously enhanced, are still physically human. Now, however, he is...something else. Transformed in ways barely comprehensible to most, he has been made innately stronger, faster, tougher. His senses are inhumanly acute, and his regenerative capabilities are great and terrible. The price for these enhancements, however, would be far too high for most, and under other circumstances Eric himself would probably rather be dead. While not technically undead, the Hunter is now partly suffused with that nature's tainted magick. Except for the color of his eyes and hair, he is essentially an albino, easily and deeply burned by the sun. Worst of all, he hungers for blood, not only for physical needs but for the living energy it carries. The rush he gets from drinking is an obscenely designed intoxicant that does not incapacitate him in battle, for all the euphoria he gets from it. Finally, the very Essence itself has been changed, interwoven with his genetic structure in an entirely different fashion. He _was_ a Solar. Now he is...something else, a widdershins Celestial, the very sort of thing he once hunted. Somewhere deep inside, Eric is very glad he distinguished between Kindred who obeyed the rules and those who were true monsters. "_How_ long is the line of people wanting to get their hands on her?" Morgan mutters darkly. "It would circle the Earth. Twice. At least," Eric quips dryly. The druidess grins. Repayment for injuries to "family" will have to wait. "OK, here's the situation. Your bones have been...well, fossilized is as good a term as any. Essentially, you have no bone marrow." Eric nods in understanding. "I can't restore life to your entire skeleton without taking us both out of action for too long, but I can repair a handful of ribs. That should give you enough blood production to keep you nourished and stave off the hunger." Eric smiles in grateful relief. "It's much appreciated." An instant later, he closes his lips again to hide the small fangs. Morgan points at his mouth. "_Those_ I can fix easy." Eric's smile vanishes. "Ah, until we have time for a more permanent reversal, I'm going to need those." He shrugs fatalistically. "Point taken." Morgan winces. "Sorry." Eric actually chuckles. "It's all right. Honestly." He looks down at his hands. "Hrm. Can you do something about my sunlight problem?" "If it were just a matter of melanin, it would be simple. But it's not surprising she wouldn't make it that straightforward. I can provide coloration, or I can give you UV protection, but not both, not with our time frame. And this one's not even a matter of wiping myself out." Morgan shook her head. "When we're through with this invasion..." It's clear that she's contemplating what she'd like to do to the responsible party when she has the opportunity. "It's complicated, got it." Eric shook his head. Under other circumstances, Morgan might have to wait her turn, but Eric is quite happy to share on this particular subject. "I need that protection. I can always fake skin color for a disguise. It wouldn't be the first time." "Fair enough." Morgan concentrates, setting about "making it so" ... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Sun, 6 Feb 2005 09:33:10 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012357 > "It's complicated, got it." Eric shook his head. Under other >circumstances, Morgan might have to wait her turn, but Eric is quite >happy to share on this particular subject. "I need that protection. I >can always fake skin color for a disguise. It wouldn't be the first >time." > >"Fair enough." Morgan concentrates, setting about "making it so" ... Those with the sensorial capabilities will detect the extra flare of ultraviolet from Zia's Lens - though those with only normal sight should not, being that the arm bracer she wears it on is still pushed far up her sleeve. Even her mentality requires a measurable, if brief time to ascertain her safety, locale, and absorb Ultraviolet's memories from when she was sleeping. RedZia merely flips Steppenwolf a teasing salute, very like the first he had from Zia herself in a literal shit-storm fight in New York where they first met, before she fades away. There is the briefest of red, green, yellow, and then a flickering rainbow of other spectra, under the black-ceramo armor of Zia's sleeve again. "Only I could keep a hero identity secret from _myself_." Ziactrice-in-Black says softly, not wishing to interrupt Morgan's work on Eric. "Guess I'll have to stop teasing the supers crowd about their respective costume choices." She checks her sword, feels several other places to assure herself that various bits and pieces of equippage are still in place, even as she sits up. She gives Kanto a faint smile, even as she shakes her head ruefully. "Thank you." "Normally, I'd go off about how she's my archenemy - and fault." Zia frowns, and looks down at her hands. "Given how badly I've botched stopping her before - I couldn't have done worse - it is my responsibility." She sighs. "I'll have to ask the Family for help." The very thought seems to pain her, because she knows the price that will likely be extracted for such a favor in -her- family, but her words are resigned to it. --- Ziactrice "The real question being, am I going to regret getting them involved even more than dealing with IR? And which one?!" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 12:46:46 -0800 Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012358 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012355 > > "It's complicated, got it." Eric shook his head. Under other >circumstances, Morgan might have to wait her turn, but Eric is quite >happy to share on this particular subject. "I need that protection. I >can always fake skin color for a disguise. It wouldn't be the first >time." > >"Fair enough." Morgan concentrates, setting about "making it so" ... /*"Morgan, Eric, I can help with the 'hunger' if you wish it. I can provide you with a... 'device' that is connected to a Gnome. No not the little 2 foot, cute, rotund fellows commonly associated with that name. A Gnome, a universe composed of a single living being, made up of multiple self mobile parts. One entity with multiple bodies. From this 'device' you can 'drink' as much as you need, and the Gnome won't even notice the loss of energy, or blood. It WILL be aware of it, and has already given permission for this. It owes me a favor. In this way, your 'hunger' becomes an asset without endangering any entity. You need not fear contaminating the Gnome, as the device will render that impossible, nor do you need fear the Gnome contaminating YOU."*/ Aurora offers. =========================== Subject: AAE9: Onward On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 19:02:15 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012359 Roland chats with Seeker as members of the CAoL and Champions trickle in to the briefing room. Both men are keeping subject and tone alike light, but the strain is evident on them both. As the appointed hour approaches, the smell of apple blossoms and jasmine wafts into the room as Morgan enters. Roland perks up, then grins knowingly. Seeker raises an eyebrow. When Morgan smiles sheepishly, Roland chuckles and looks at those nearby friends who appear curious. "She spent some time in Arcadia with the children. While she was getting some sleep, Psyche and Rachel got the idea of weaving flowers into her hair." Indeed, a closer look reveals a beautiful garland alternating between apple blossoms and small clusters of jasmine encircling her brow. Roland looks over his beloved, who is still in her Rohirrim dress sans armor. "It suits you, m'eudail." Morgan crosses to Roland and gives him a kiss. "The bairns said Daddy'd been there but didn't want to wake Mommy," she comments lightly, and her hand brushes the blossoms in her hair. "The girls were so cute and earnest about me taking the scents home, I promised to keep it this way as long as I could." The druidess takes a seat near Roland. "Don't worry," she grins, "I'll take them out before we go back into the field." "I didn't want to stay too long," Roland replies apologetically, "even with the time differential." (OOC: Insert any last arrivals here. 8^) Seeing that the last of those who are coming have arrived, the Champion clears his throat and strides forward. "Okay. We've done well against the invaders so far, in spite of some local...difficulties. I've been in regular contact with UNTIL, and relief efforts are already under way in Britain, Scandinavia, and northern Africa. Still, we are about to face even greater challenges." He turns to the main monitor, which creates a split-screen display of two separate maps. "Southern Europe seems to have been overrun by a mad Machiavellian prince. Even I don't recognize him, I'm sorry to say, but according to his reports, his reality seems to be a 17th century swashbuckler with strange sorcery -- one type to a customer, mostly -- and clockwork devices that seem designed by some alien Da Vinci on a bad trip. His base is..." he smiles sourly at the irony... "a floating island, with unlikely Venetian towers on an actual island surface complete with canals, all of which rest on a mass of faintly glowing gears, levers, pulleys and fins. He lands occasionally to dock sailing ships from his fleet, including..." Roland looks briefly reluctant to continue. "...according to our reports...a flagship with red sails, crewed by the damned, with a captain so evil 'the Abyss itself spat him out.'" "I thought those were _black_ sails," Morgan quips. "Not quite the same ship," Roland replies, "and apparently, this lot is even worse. Its captain wields a weapons that seems capable of cutting through _anything._ Law -- a colleague in Freedom Force -- went to the Marvel Universe and managed to have an Adamantium sword forged for her. The captain cut through it with one swing. Law was lucky to escape with her life." Roland looks back to the assembled group. "Fortunately, as with the other realms, native heroes seem to have come through to help. We don't know much about them, however, other than their leaders appear to be a pair of masked heroes -- a Zorro-alike with a face straight from the Crow and a lady captain with a bird motif. Our contact is Agent Faure of UNTIL, currently in Marseilles." He pauses again, looking grimly at the other half of the screen. "The last remaining invasion -- other than the Gaunt Man's -- is far better known to us, and probably to most of you as well. Emperor Palpatine and his Galactic Empire have landed rather forcefully on India and overrun almost the entire country. For those of you familiar with the movies, this Empire seems to be from just before Episode V. The Death Star was destroyed a couple of years ago, but the rebellion has been fighting a hit-and-run battle ever since. For everyone else, I recommend a lens-link download. There are enough of us familiar with that ficton you shouldn't have any problems getting acquainted with it. And of course, we have access to the films and other media on our computers." He and Morgan share a glance. "One new element," he adds sourly, "is Thratchen. He and his techno-demons are a powerful threat with foul magick and deadly science. I don't even want to think what they'll be like with the Dark Side; unfortunately, that's a luxury we can't afford. We fought techno-demons during the quest for Fuzzy and the time-twisting adventure that followed. We have the archives for those situations on the computer as well." (OOC: See the website for more. It was the Cosmic Engineer quest in VI, chapters 3-5, and the TARDIS group chapters in Present Simple of VII.) "Any questions, and who's going where?" Roland asks. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Onward On Mon, 07 Feb 2005 01:39:09 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012360 >On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 19:02:15 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012359 > > "Southern Europe seems to have been overrun by a mad Machiavellian >prince. Even I don't recognize him, I'm sorry to say, but according >to his reports, his reality seems to be a 17th century swashbuckler >with strange sorcery -- one type to a customer, mostly -- and >clockwork devices that seem designed by some alien Da Vinci on a bad >trip. His base is..." he smiles sourly at the irony... "a floating >island, with unlikely Venetian towers on an actual island surface >complete with canals, all of which rest on a mass of faintly glowing >gears, levers, pulleys and fins. He lands occasionally to dock >sailing ships from his fleet, including..." Roland looks briefly >reluctant to continue. "...according to our reports...a flagship with >red sails, crewed by the damned, with a captain so evil 'the Abyss >itself spat him out.'" Both Marivale and Veren glance up at this, eyes blazing. > "Not quite the same ship," Roland replies, "and apparently, this >lot is even worse. Its captain wields a weapons that seems capable of >cutting through _anything._ Law -- a colleague in Freedom Force >went to the Marvel Universe and managed to have an Adamantium sword >forged for her. The captain cut through it with one swing. Law was >lucky to escape with her life." Marivale looks thoughtful, but hardly intimidated. > "Any questions, and who's going where?" Roland asks. Harlock looks pensive for a moment, then says "much as I'd like to accompany my daughter, methinks 'twere best if I headed for this 'India' you mention. The rest of my compatriots are far better suited for the swashbuckling realm. Particularly Marivale, but such realms have been known to favor astounding feats of archery, as well. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Onward On Mon, 7 Feb 2005 13:01:19 -0800 (PST) Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012361 > Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012359 As Rob steps into the briefing room, he tucks a piece of paper in his pocket, tossing the envelope in the trash, and pulls a handful of dice from another pocket, spilling them on the table. The spark of magic is easily detectable; the result seems to bother him. As he drops the dice in his pocket, he pulls out a small deck made from a dozen trading-card games, shuffles it, and flips up the first five cards. > He pauses again, looking grimly at the other half of the screen. >"The last remaining invasion -- other than the Gaunt Man's -- is far >better known to us, and probably to most of you as well. Emperor >Palpatine and his Galactic Empire have landed rather forcefully on >India and overrun almost the entire country. For those of you >familiar with the movies, this Empire seems to be from just before >Episode V. The Death Star was destroyed a couple of years ago, but >the rebellion has been fighting a hit-and-run battle ever since. For >everyone else, I recommend a lens-link download. There are enough of >us familiar with that ficton you shouldn't have any problems getting >acquainted with it. And of course, we have access to the films and >other media on our computers." Rob doesn't say anything; he's busy drawing in the lens-link data while puzzling over the cards. > He and Morgan share a glance. "One new element," he adds sourly, >"is Thratchen. He and his techno-demons are a powerful threat with >foul magick and deadly science. I don't even want to think what >they'll be like with the Dark Side; unfortunately, that's a luxury we >can't afford. We fought techno-demons during the quest for Fuzzy and >the time-twisting adventure that followed. We have the archives for >those situations on the computer as well." (OOC: See the website for >more. It was the Cosmic Engineer quest in VI, chapters 3-5, and the >TARDIS group chapters in Present Simple of VII.) > "Any questions, and who's going where?" Roland asks. As Rob picks through the computer archives on Thratchen, he sucks in his breath sharply. "Roland," he says tensely, "about what Thratchen did to Eric. Is that a common techno-demon ability, or a Thratchen special? And how does the summoned 'cyber-slaving' gear interface - neural link, or something else? I'm going to India, regardless, but I need to know." =========================== Subject: AAE9: A Mysterious Dinner Date Part 1 On Mon, 7 Feb 2005 13:05:44 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012362 "Thanks for agreeing to a slower window for recovery, Eric." Zia stands, still on Champion's Island, but she is watching the ocean, at the lonely cabin they've found on the other side of the X-Window. "Or should I just assume that you've more than enough experience as a Hunter not to let it rattle you into over-reaching your strength?" "Hrm. I see no reason not to use every advantage available to us. I'm just glad that Solitaire and that cosmic character cut the blood hunger." He grins wickedly. "Other hungers...are under control. But still there." Zia cocks her head slightly, and gives him a smile that attempts innocence, and fails utterly. "Then perhaps we should sate those others, the better to manage the first? To use every advantage, as you said..." Eric says nothing. The rumble of positive response is entirely Lensed - before it is interrupted. How can someone make clearing his throat sound 'proper?' Eric sighs. Ziactrice startles, having not been aware of someone else - which is rare for her. "My deepest apologies for the intrusion, madam, sir, but this just arrived for Lady Ziactrice. The usual unusual means, as it were." "Quite all right, Mr. Jeffries - but please, do call me Ziactrice. Lady isn't one of my proper titles. Unusual?" She takes the delivery from his tray, looking at it in puzzlement. "Who would be sending me something _here_?" "My apologies, madam. As for the card..." Jeffries makes the tray vanish, albeit through entirely natural means. "...it was with refreshments I had prepared for yourself and Master Lancer." Zia quirks an eyebrow at Jeffries. "With of course, no alarms or camera images of the delivery thereto, that being the usual unusualness? And my name is correctly spelled, too." She looks intrigued. "Nice penmanship." "Indeed," Jeffries replies to her description of the delivery, "given his change in status and your long stay, I thought it best to choose alternate provisions. This was waiting on the tray." "Thank you for the thoughtfulness, Mr. Jeffries. The Champions are indeed fortunate to have your service." On the opposite side of the card is an image of a beautiful spire of a tower on a small, well-kept island. If the scale is any indication, it is not particularly tall -- four or five stories, apparently -- and looks quite cozy. On the reverse side is a simple invitation, surrounded by beautiful paintings of an oriental dragon, an Egyptian phoenix, and a gleaming unicorn: "You are cordially invited to tea and sandwiches at Haven Spire at your convenience. Our hospitality is at your service." Zia flips the card back over, then she slowly slides her thumb across the picture again. "It's a Trump." Eric's eyes narrow slightly. "Really?" "But not painted by anyone I know - and I thought I knew them all. Yes. Feel. It feels cooler than paper should. If you're sensitive - and I imagine you are." She hands it over for his inspection. "It feels.. different, somehow, but I think it's still a Trump. Well, it'd have to be, or else I couldn't accept the invitation - there isn't exactly an address." Eric turns it over in his hands. "So it is." He looks faintly dubious -- but then, his natural paranoia is rather pointed lately. "Or a name. Which troubles me, but it's properly couched - it will be an insult if I refuse... and such an option wasn't provided. That's usually a telling sign." "Hrm. It doesn't feel like Infra-Red, but she's damned devious." "Oh, it's not her." Eric blinks and looks up. "You can tell?" Zia sounds absolutely certain. "Dear old Ira isn't EVER polite. She mocks the forms, but the feeling isn't there." Eric laughs harshly. "I can believe it." He becomes somber again quickly. "No polite way out doesn't seem polite to me." "She wouldn't know what hospitality meant if it bit her on her golden-tanned a-" Jeffries clears his throat. "Master Eric, it _does_ say that the convenience is hers." "Oh, I could beg off, but I'd have to do it in person. It's not a royal summons." Eric nods reluctantly. "And Mr. Jeffries, you should likely adopt a more adult title for Eric - he doesn't understand the joke of addressing him as Master. Though I do appreciate the pun." Jeffries folds his hands behind his back and remains passive. His emotional state...isn't smug, but certainly pleased. "As you wish, madam." Zia thoughtfully taps the card against her palm, once Eric's handed it back to her. "I'm going to accept." "I'm coming with you." Ziactrice raises an eyebrow. "Eric, it's more polite to wait to be asked by a lady to be her escort." "I'm sure it is. And you have my apologies. Nevertheless, politeness be damned, I'm talking about being your backup, not your escort." "Though I suppose having proposed an affiance, I can't deny you have a right to the place." She raises an eyebrow. "Backup? Mr. Lancer, are you saying you'd prefer being my guard to being my escort? Because I cannot take a guard to someone's private domicile - whereas a lady can always take her escort." Eric looks grim. "I'm...worried. This 'mysterious invitation' shtick is just asking to end up having afternoon tea with Destroyer or Al-Aswad. And you're far too capable to need a bodyguard." "I'd be quite safe on Destroyer's invitation, in these terms." He smiles dryly. "Well, as you mentioned, it would be inappropriate for me to ask to be your escort." "I'm not familiar with the Al-Aswad, however, I doubt this is him, unless he is a talented artist as well. Very well. Since you'll be difficult when I come back if I don't - and you're the only person I know short of the Elders themselves who can be more difficult than myself..." Eric grins. "Why, thank you. Al-Aswad is the most powerful of the Nephandi, both magically and politically. Unpleasant fellow." Zia shoots him a look that could kill - that doesn't even phase Eric, of course. "Will you please attend this function with me, Eric?" Eric bows, now all seriousness. "I would be honored, my love." At that, Jeffries hands Eric a card as well. Eric straightens, looking nonplussed. Zia smiles. "Your invitation, sir," Jeffries says, just barely suppressing a smile. "Ah, Mr. Jeffries. This sense of timing you have - I don't suppose that is something you can teach?" "And why did mine wait?" "Those were the instructions on the envelope, sir." Eric sighs and tears open his envelope. Ziactrice: "This person is following either Edwardian or Victorian protocols." This time, the chief steward _does_ smile. "I approve." "That doesn't seem to indicate either Destroyer - who is younger - or this Al-Aswad, who isn't that cultured, I would guess." Eric scowls at his card. "Mine has suggestions on attire." "Mr. Jeffries? Could I impose on you further? I believe Eric and I will be in need of assistance." Jeffries nods. "Ziactrice would not need them, sir. I am, of course, at your disposal." Ziactrice: "For proper accouterments - and perhaps Eric would prefer to arm himself appropriately to match." Jeffries nods. "I anticipated the latter, Ziactrice. As for the former, I have taken the liberty, based on the style of invitation, of preparing a few modest options," Jeffries adds. "Mr. Jeffries, if I thought money could move you, and I could descend to the temptation of stealing good help, I would implore you to enter my own service. As it is, I shall have to suffer along without." Zia suddenly SMILES. "Ah. Formal cutaway. I'm going to _enjoy_ this." Jeffries smiles and nods at the honor accorded him. "You do me too much honor, madam." "I wish I did. Then I might be able to steal you. I'll try not to keep you waiting, gentlemen." "Waiting?" Eric asks. "Perhaps this is an opportunity she does not have often," Jeffries tries to explain. Eric looks his over, and chooses the one most like his usual garb. "Don't know how I'm going to _move_ in this..." He examines his outfit more closely. "On the other hand...this thing _breathes._ The cut is--" "--designed for your specific needs, sir," Jeffries explains, not sounding the least bit aggrieved. Zia walks off to get herself dressed - reappearing a miraculously brief time later in full 1800's heavy dress, train to the floor, big hair coiled under a hat, gloves, and jewels fit to meet the Queen of England. It is not black; she has chosen a satin blue dress with yellow and black striped underskirt - the effect is rather startling - and fetching. She is covered neck to ankles - and only keen observation skills allow Eric to notice that her petticoats and buttoned shoes are as fully authentic as her dress. Eric emerges a moment later looking surprisingly dapper, though he has committed the rather unfortunate sin of eschewing a hat. Eric whistles. "I'm not one for ostentatious displays of skin, but I'm amazed that anyone wearing that much clothing can look that good." "Why, Eric! You're amazed that _I_ look good?" Eric sighs. "Hardly. I'd think anyone wearing that much would be half-buried in it, though." Ziactrice actually manages to look hurt, as she gives him a glance from her widened eyes under her lashes - if not for his Lens, he might even fall for the unusual behavior. Even Lensed, for a moment, he does, feeling terribly boorish. Then his perceptions kick in. @You...@ Then she clears up like the sun rising, shooting him an urchin's mischievous grin. "Well, to tell the truth, even I'm a bit less able in all this. The corset makes breathing a bit more difficult, and the hoops and bustle make it impossible to really run at all. I'm actually glad you'll be there with me, just in case." Eric snorts. "You wouldn't be helpless strapped to a--" He stops, the train of thought derailed by recent events. Zia raises an eyebrow SHARPLY at him. "Jeffries really _is_ a marvel. I have quite the arsenal in this thing, and more range of motion than I would have imagined." Jeffries nods, accepting the appreciation. "Simply doing my part, sir." "Delightfully so, however, Mr. Jeffries." She grins at Eric again. "And just think what I could be hiding under this skirt and in this thing." Eric nods. "Well, let's just hope we don't need any of it." "And one more thing, Eric?" "Yes?" "You look exceedingly dashing in that; if I don't get at least a kiss before we go, I shall not go at all." She says quite seriously. "You flatter me," he says with surprising sincerity. "Still, if you insist..." "I do indeed, sir." And taking full advantage of her situation, he sweeps her into a full dip and kisses her as thoroughly as he can manage. Zia's eyes catch fire, and she spends a few seconds re-arranging her hat - but even Jeffries could discern the trembling in her fingers that stills only afterwards. Eric straightens his coat and comes to full attention. "After you, milady," he says with maddening calm. "Yes. Well. Then, we'd best be getting this over with. So I can take care of other necessary things." She says with an air of definite threat - that could scorch anyone the least bit sensitive three football fields from here - and not with anger. She takes out the card, and brings herself and Eric through to the spired building it shows. Eric merely nods, though through the Lens, she can feel the energies flowing through him. @You're doing that as a deliberate tease. For which you will pay as handsomely as you currently look, later.@ Zia tells him without a flicker of a glance his way. @I certainly hope so.@ Eric replies, maintaining equal aplomb outwardly. =========================== Subject: AAE9: A Mysterious Dinner Date Part 2 On Mon, 7 Feb 2005 13:14:02 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012363 They arrive on an island surrounded by crystal clear water, lapping gently on the shore, which goes out to the horizon as far as the eye can see. The spire lies in the center of the small island, gleaming magnificently (albeit gently) in the light. Soon, bronze figures -- literally bronze, apparently animated through some strange Art (neither quite science nor wholly magic) -- become visible working at various simple tasks. "Not exactly the Fortress of Solitude, but it definitely has the same feel." Zia notes absently. "Will you lend me an arm, or do you prefer to keep your hands free?" "I'd be honored," he replies, making the gesture of offer. @Besides, if things become that dire, I don't think you'll mind me retrieving it in a hurry.@ Zia takes his forearm gently, wrapping her hand around it, and using her other to lift her skit slightly so she can walk. @Not at all. I just didn't want to make you more nervous than we already are.@ @Appreciated. My other hand, however, is resting on something rather deadly.@ @Both hands, Eric.@ A lovely young (looking) woman walks down a path from the home towards them. Raven hair and an exquisite green dress, one somewhat simpler than Zia's but still of a genre, mark her as one who has been expecting you. Ziactrice presents the invitation to the young woman, with a rather droll, "I am not sure whom exactly to claim as our host, but here is our invitation. I am Dame Ziactrice of Amber; this is my escort, Mister Eric Lancer." "Ah, welcome, welcome," she says in a friendly tone. In spite of her garb, she looks vaguely oriental. "My deepest apologies for the unusual nature of the invitation." She bows in a manner that seems half English and half Japanese while still seeming both graceful and appropriate. "I am Stellara, mistress of Valdor Spire. I'm honored to meet you both." "A pleasure." Zia returns the bow with a purely English formal curtsy. "It is an our honor to be greeted by the lady of this marvelous place." "If you will follow me, my husband has prepared refreshments for you." She turns, looking up at the top of the spire. "And an explanation, I trust." Her tone remains polite and friendly, but both get the distinct impression that the master of the house will have some explaining to do one way or another. "That is kind of him; I shall hope your trust is met." Ziactrice follows the mistress of the manor toward the spire. She leads them forward, observing formalities yet projecting as much an air of welcome and ease as she can. @This place is old, Eric. Older than it looks - but despite that, it does not have the usual lingering imprint of malaise or other troubling emotions I usually get.@ Zia, whose talents have always been strongly tilted to empathy, says. @In fact, rather the opposite. It feels... nice. But not too nice.@ @Hm. Agreed. It feels...peaceful. I wish I could trust that.@ "So, what do you think of our small realm?" Stellara gestures around them as the near the ornate double doors. "We are in a miniature Horizon Realm, a spirit demense if you will, not 'far' from where you left, metaphysically speaking." "Impressive," Eric states simply. "That much, Stellara, I could discern. I think it is very old, though it has not the appearance. The architecture is a forerunner of ancient Babylon, at a guess. It is beautiful and charming, though not built to impress, it does by it's simple lack of pretensions." Stellara nods. "I suspected as much, but did not wish to assume." She smiles apologetically. "My husband enjoys being mysterious, I fear. As for the architecture, it is designed to be much like our original home as possible." She opens the doors, leading into a pleasant foyer with bookshelves on every wall. The languages range from modern English to Greek and Latin to ancient tongues unknown to (common) modern man. A staircase winds up the tower, and a few chairs are littered around the room. There are passages ahead and to either side, but Stellara stops in the center of the room. "If you would stand in the circle," she says, gesturing at the ornate starburst-like symbol she stands on, "we can join my husband without subjecting you to the climb." She gestures again, this time at the staircase. "That is a considerable relief." Zia smiles and steps into the symbol. Eric follows her wordlessly, though he hods politely to Stellara. Stellara nods back, then gestures at two points and chants briefly in a fluid tongue. A golden glowing ring springs up at the edge of the circle, serving as a railing, and then the platform rises. Each floor holds something different -- the second appears to be a drawing room, The third, a magical workshop. The fourth floor is another workshop, though this one more resembles Roland's lab on Champions Island. Eric keeps his face impassive, but cannot hide that he is impressed from the Lens. In moments, they are at the top of the spire, its view open to the sky. A well-set table waits for them, with three pots of tea glowing merrily with warmth and several plates of biscuits and finger sandwiches of various flavors available. Zia gently takes her skirt in hand again, and follows their hostess to the table. A man in blue is there, his garb a mix of high fantasy and the same Victorian clothing the others wear. He is staring into a glowing sigil in one hand as they arrive, but gestures as soon as the platform appears and the ring vanishes. "Ah! Welcome, my friends, welcome." He bows. "Thank you, sir; we were surprised but pleased to accept your invitation." She curtsies again, letting Eric take care of the bowing for this meeting. Eric does so. "Dame Ziactrice, Mister Lancer, this is my husband, retired First Lord of Valdoria, Atlan the Protector." "How do you do." Zia says, wondering what the heck Valdoria is and what a First Lord means... but presumably she'll be finding out. "An honor," Eric says evenly. "Atlan, my love, this is Dame Ziactrice of Amber and her escort, Eric Lancer." Atlan nod-bows. "An honor and a pleasure." He gestures at the chairs and table. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Our home is yours." Zia forcibly keeps her eyebrow from quirking at that rather intimate offer, but the invitation did specify hospitality. She takes a seat carefully, somehow managing her dress into same gracefully. Eric, too sits, and Atlan follows with flourish. Stellara joins you at the last, and two bronze figures enter. "You do have a lovely place, Lord Atlan. I daresay it feels even more peaceful than it appears, which is quite something indeed." Atlan smiles gently at that. "My thanks, Dame Ziactrice. We have worked long to make it so, though welcome guests brighten any home." Eric gets the feeling from Zia's Lens of being on very familiar ground, as if the Petite Amberite has spent far more time in social engagements - not always friendly ones - than even he has spent in combat and preparations for the hunt. Zia smiles. "Your efforts have clearly not been spent in vain, lord." She accepts the food service without letting it distract her. "If you need anything not provided," Stellara adds, "feel free to ask the Talosians to serve you. They are not self-aware, but are nevertheless quite efficient." "Now." Atlan claps his hands and rubs them together. "No doubt you have many questions. I will do my best to answer them. I must say, that you deduced as much as you did was impressive indeed." "Ah, thank you for that explanation, although I find nothing additional required at this time - save perhaps, if your lord would favor us with a slight break in his ... mysteriousness? I fear I do not follow you quite well enough to provide reasonable questions yet, lord. What deduction do you find so impressive?" Atlan nods in acquiescence. "Of course. My sincere apologies. I have little opportunity to indulge in such matters, and I fear I may have rather overdone it." Zia laughs with an open ease that surprises even herself; this pair is oddly likable. "Not at all. I can understand having a taste for such things." "My mere existence, to begin with. Few native to our home world even realize that I retain an interest in her well being, or that someone has taken the mantle of universal guardianship." Atlan pauses, searching for a polite way to put it. "There are those, after all, who take an interest in the resources of potent realities." "Ah!" Zia says, suddenly understanding. "So you're the Mystery Man. I can see why few would; you would give illusive a whole new order of magnitude." He shrugs gallantly. "I do try." "You mean, if people knew, you'd be fighting off a mob of unpleasant people - and worse - without a second's peace." Atlan nods. "Indeed. By keeping the nature of this protection secret, it prevents those with malicious intent from overt activity." He frowns. "At least, it has until recently." Zia glances around this peaceful manor with an actual degree of envy. "But... here we are." "Indeed." He smiles at Zia. "The mystery has kept away the friendly as well as the hostile, and while my wife and I visit the world through avatars, your presence is most welcome." "Even given my intention was to either boot you into a solid defense of Earth-9, Lord Protector, or supplant you and take care of same myself? Although I have to say my estimation of my ability to perform the later has undergone unfavorable revision, recently." She adds. Stellara laughs musically. Atlan merely chuckles. Zia just keeps smiling, but she shrugs - without, Eric might note, apologizing. The Lord Protector grows serious very quickly, however. "Rest assured, I fully understand the grave situation the world faces. The nature of my protection prevents the sort of claiming you describe to a considerable extent, as a theoretical claimant would have to challenge me -- and first, to find me. However, these...Darkness Devices..." Atlan looks faintly ill and more than a little angry at them. "...they supplant Gaia's world with others." "Yes; she isn't terribly happy about that." Zia mentions. "I have been researching methods of countering them." He smiles faintly, looking at a small mirror in the corner. "As usual, my Champions have taken the more direct approach with admirable success." He turns back to Zia. "...with considerable help, of course. It is a pretty dilemma. Reveal myself, and undermine the protection I give through my secret to resist this more blunt and brutal invasion, or remain subtle in effect, maintaining one shield while risking the fall of another." It is Zia's turn to go somber. "Well, bully for you, lord, but some of that help has suffered fairly hard in so doing. What good is your protection if your research goes unused?" Atlan sours. "My research has thus far been in vain." He looks deeply unhappy at the admission. "We _have_ provided assistance," Stellara adds.."You can help others, allowing fortune to favor them, without there being any obvious result, can you not?" Atlan motions to Stellara, who subsides for the moment. "Yes, I can, but not enough to fight a Darkness Device. Or to save Eric from Infra-red - quickly enough." Atlan nods soberly. "And so it is with us." "I was hoping you had more ability with Earth-9 Shadow than that, being directly in charge of it." "We do what we can to help as many as we can, aiding the heroic, confounding the vile, but it is one of the great and terrible paradoxes of tremendous power that to use it directly is to endanger as much as you protect." "So?" Zia's tone doesn't seem to fully agree. Atlan smiles. "Well, not always. But often enough." "That is a conundrum I face every waking - and sleeping, it seems - moment. But not to act can endanger others as surely. For if there is not your influence, there is another's. To fold one's hands merely to avoid the risk is not to do right to protect others, either." "As do we," Stellara notes calmly. "For thirty millennial, we have done what we can for our home. We have certainly failed, in our measure, but against terrible darkness we have helped as we can, while trying to allow the world to find its own way. We do act, as we said," Atlan explains, "but subtly. A change of weather here, a misfired gun there. The question is not whether to act, but _how._" "So, you have made some decision, that involves us. Do you care to put it forth?" "No decision, yet," Atlan replies. "You have a position, and I wish to hear it." He smiles wryly. "Though I suspect I have heard much of it. You have experience in these matters, 'adventuring' as it were." He looks into the sky. "It has been...a very long time, since I have done the same. When to use the subtle twist of fate, when to draw the blade." "My best notions I have already stated, and you have refuted." "Refuted?" Atlan raises an eyebrow. "No. Merely explained what we have done until now. Subtlety has served us well for millennial, though imperfectly." "I said I would move you to a direct defense - you said it would void your secret, and that you had no more ability than I to directly move Circumstance." "Circumstance, no," Atlan replies. "But I have physical power." "I said I would risk taking the power - which you say is insufficient, anyway. You ... and I, think that I have little chance of forcing the issue. Is physical power useful against the Darkness Devices or the incoming realities?" Atlan raises an eyebrow. "Do you argue against your own point, now? I must admit to being perplexed." "Well, physical power isn't my strong suit - I thought our victories thus far due more to moral strengths than physical ones. Eric?" Eric shrugs. "You're asking the wrong man. I kill things." "You are no mere killer, Hunter," Atlan replies. "It is a shame you have not rejoined the Champions." "Hey, I'm just -- _re_join?" Eric blurts. Atlan gestures dismissively. "A long time ago. Other lives." "The wheel of reincarnation does that," Stellara replies. Eric pauses. =========================== Subject: AAE9: A Mysterious Dinner Date Part 3 On Mon, 7 Feb 2005 13:15:18 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012364 "Reincarnation? That's pretty trippy. How many times you been around, Eric?" Zia has that intrigued look of someone who can't do a particular something, asking about the experience. "Obviously, some of our victories have been real." Eric scowls. "Been around? Beats the hell out of me. Anyway, from a strategic standpoint, our position is unenviable. We've driven off two invasions, but Roland himself admits we're playing the Gaunt Man's game. He wants us beaten down and exhausted by the time we get to him -- and he _expects_ us to get to him." "Oh? You don't know?" Zia blinks in surprise. "But your teacher said - I mean, he did imply - didn't he? Well, perhaps this isn't the place for that discussion." @More than once, to be sure. The Exaltation remembers Valdoria -- they renamed it Atlantis. For _him._@ Eric mentally points at Atlan. @But I know I don't remember them all.@ "And his reality is the one where heroes -lose-, which causes me great concern, Lord Atlan. I don't find prospective husbands that often, and I haven't even gotten Eric to marrying, yet." Atlan chuckles. "Well. We can't have that." "Indeed not. The desires of an Amberite are not to be brooked. Gaunt, ugly Man or not." Zia states firmly. Stellara glares a bit at her husband, who clears his throat. "Hm. I have an idea." Atlan begins to trace formulas in the air. "I think...yes, yes, it should be possible...your alliance should reach the Gaunt Man intact. The Darkness Devices block your cosmic allies to some extent, and they are far more powerful than I. Still, there is something the Gaunt Man has not reckoned with, and that is the resilience of heroes." "... that scenario was the one I consider most likely. Resilience?" Zia asks, not quite following. "The true problem is pure, simple depletion of resources." Atlan flashes a pirate's grin. "I have accumulated many resources over the millennia. Perhaps the best solution will be to simply restore life, health and rest to your comrades at the appropriate moment..." Zia gives him a repressive look - that she knows will bounce off. "Won't that sort of reveal your secret, too? Not that I'm like trying to say it's a bad idea, understand." Atlan nods. "It is a risk, certainly. Still, I dare not reveal myself _before_ that moment, lest the Gaunt Man become aware of the danger." "And enter you into his calculation?" Zia shakes her head. "Just so. Afterwards, however..." the First Lord looks grimly determined. "...afterwards, though I suspect a 'secret identity' will be called for, it will harm little more to enter the fray personally." "He has to know some hint of your presence, doesn't he? _I_ was aware of it - or is that by virtue of simply being an Amberite, that he does not have the ability to sense?" "The sort of sensing you refer to," Stellara notes, "is rare indeed, as is the sort of 'claiming' of worlds we speak of. While we do not underestimate the Gaunt Man's intelligence, if he knew of our existence he would have done something about us." She smiles. "We, after all, have been doing something about _him._" "Are you certain?" Zia frowns. "Perhaps it is just my heritage, but it seems all too great a possibility that he would seek to lure you out just to claim such power, if he knew about you, not seek to attack you directly. After all, he hasn't even bothered to attack the Champions directly as yet. He is playing a waiting game." Atlan leans back. "A concern I have had, and a reason to wait until the final confrontation to move directly. Still, as you yourself have said, no matter how dangerous action may be, there are times when inaction is more dangerous." Zia laughs. "You're as bad as Benedict - he gets me to switching sides in an argument, too." "I suspect the comparison is high honor indeed," Atlan replies. "If I may?" Eric puts in suddenly. Atlan looks to Zia. "Um, certainly?" Eric nods. "The real problem I see is that we've been letting the Gaunt Man dictate the rules of the game. I don't blame Roland, for once -- the Black Hats have been running him ragged since before the invasion. Still, Sun Tzu would envy him -- he's decided the battlefield, taken the high ground -- literally and figuratively -- and has the numbers advantage, if we count his catspaws." Atlan looks thoughtful. "Your suggestion?" "Change the rules." Eric gestures at Zia and Atlan. "You godlike reality-controlling types can mess with the fundamental laws, right? That's what these 'stelae' do. Mess with that, and you take away their metaphoric high ground." Atlan looks between the three present. "An...ambitious idea. Also a risky one." " I'm not sure I'm powerful enough to do so, Eric. You can _call_ me godlike, but I'm not. I'm about on the level of a powerful prankster spirit, like Coyote. At least, in Earth-9's shadow, I am. I don't 'own' it, like he does." "Yeah, well, he _does_ 'own' it," Eric replies, gesturing at Atlan. "And there are the cosmic types, Aurora and Hydra and them." "I'd rather _they_ not start toying with this reality's firmament," Atlan notes with forced mildness. "What if they acted as backup to you?" Zia proposes. Atlan nods. "Certainly." "What about me? Is your ability enough like mine to mesh effort?" Atlan ponders this for a long moment. "The core of my power is the second Gate Key, as with Harmon -- Roland," he explains. "I have built on that considerably over time, learning many things. It is not precisely what you would call Pattern, I think. Still..." finally, he grins. "'If you hum a few bars, I can fake it,' I believe." Zia quirks an eyebrow, downward. "You have surprising inroads of knowledge, Lord Atlan. Would it do me any good to ask how you know these things?" "Certainly. Roland's encounter with Lady Ariel caused her to take an interest in this reality -- his 'Shadow,' as Amber calls them -- and I took the opportunity to learn as much as I could about Amber." He takes a sip of tea. "I have had few challenges as great as keeping the one called 'Caine' from interfering with this reality without gaining his notice." Zia sniggers so hard she almost chokes on her sip of tea. Stellara chuckles in kind. "Caine?? Naturally, I detected absolutely no signs of his influence. If you've kept him out, he's noticed in some way. He doesn't miss... well, anything. That I can tell." Zia shakes her head. "That explains your knowledge of me and my abilities, too." "I have avoided prying into personal matters when possible, but yes." Atlan straightens. "So. It seems we have the beginnings of a plan. The Gaunt Man will not give up his reality advantage easily, I think. Still, on the surface they seem to be sound elements: restore the Army of Light, undermine the Gaunt Man's realm, and enter directly when the opportunity presents itself. Does that cover the essentials?" "Yes. I take it you can do nothing more than Morgan already has for Eric's condition, or you would have already offered." Atlan nods. "I regret that the power of Exaltation is relegated to the gods, though that in itself makes me wonder how the transformation was performed, unwillingly as it was, in the first place." Stellara regards Eric. "Given _enough_ time, we could reverse it, but..." she smiles proudly. "Solitaire has already done as much as we could under the circumstances." Zia nods and rises, "Then, if you will excuse us, we do have preparations to take care of. I shall also do what I can to help." She smiles at Eric. "If you're ready?" Eric nods and rises as well. Atlan and Stellara also rise. "Though arrangements did not go as smoothly as I would wish, your company and advice have been most welcome. I do hope you can visit again some time." "I should be pleased to do so, Lord Atlan. It is rare for me to find someone of like power that I can... be frank with. If I may, I'd like to keep your Trump?" "Of course." He smiles. "For that matter, if you would like to take your ease here, my control over this pocket realm is absolute. I can increase the time rate, and you can recover here, if you like." Stellara sighs. "They have plans already, I am sure, my heart." Zia removes her wallet, easing out a card. "My Trump, lord. And thank you, but we have a place of our own, whereby we may feel a bit more at private and not have on our guest manners." Atlan nods. "Naturally. Please excuse me; I fear my enthusiasm got the better of me." "One other thing, if you please," Stellara says. "Solitaire has been through many lives since we knew her, but we still think of her in many ways as our daughter. We fully intend to reintroduce ourselves to her, soon, but now would be a poor time to distract her. If you would be discreet about this contact when speaking with her and her husband?" Zia looks serious. "They should know about having help, I think, to aid their hearts - but I won't bring up unnecessary familial relationships. Will that do?" "Precisely what we had in mind," Atlan agrees. "Our thanks." "I'll have to see about inviting you to be in my play, after this. I think you'd like treading the boards." With an amused grin, she removes a different Trump, and whisks herself and Eric away to get the last word, at least. Zia turns to Eric, at least in their hideaway place. "Now. YOU have to help me out of all this. Before I faint." Eric grins wickedly. "Oh, such invitations..." "I always said I wasn't a hero. Being wicked is MUCH more fun..." "Sauce for the goose, my love," he says, and immediately goes to work on rescuing her from her corset. -- The End =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Mon, 07 Feb 2005 23:55:54 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012366 >On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 12:46:46 -0800 >Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012358 > >/*"Morgan, Eric, I can help with the 'hunger' if you wish it. I can >provide you with a... 'device' that is connected to a Gnome. No not >the little 2 foot, cute, rotund fellows commonly associated with that >name. A Gnome, a universe composed of a single living being, made up >of multiple self mobile parts. One entity with multiple bodies. From >this 'device' you can 'drink' as much as you need, and the Gnome >won't even notice the loss of energy, or blood. It WILL be aware of >it, and has already given permission for this. It owes me a favor. In >this way, your 'hunger' becomes an asset without endangering any >entity. You need not fear contaminating the Gnome, as the device will >render that impossible, nor do you need fear the Gnome contaminating >YOU."*/ Aurora offers. /"Only if you're _sure_ I can't drain it dangerously,"/ Eric replies, /"since Kindred can use up blood and life energy at a disturbing rate in a fight if they have the resources. Otherwise, sure, thanks."/ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Tue, 08 Feb 2005 11:47:25 -0800 Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012367 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012366 > > /"Only if you're _sure_ I can't drain it dangerously,"/ Eric >replies, /"since Kindred can use up blood and life energy at a >disturbing rate in a fight if they have the resources. Otherwise, >sure, thanks."/ Aurora's infectious, healing, giggle rings out spanning half the world. /*"I am certain. We are speaking of the life energies, and blood, of an entire Universe. Any Greater Starspawn could drain it significantly, and Hydra and Cerberus could drain it dangerously. But not even they could ignore it's response, should they attempt to do so without it's permission, and that response would bring The Stardragon onto the field of that battle instantly. Fear not, you will not harm the Gnome. But to allay any uncertainty you might still have, Hydra, Oracle, The Stardragon, and I will all monitor your use. If by some strange whim of That Which Creates, or The Adversary, you need to draw more than is safe, we will all ensure that the Gnome remains unharmed."*/ Aurora replies gently. /*"Your concern does you honor, and the fact that you DO have such concern proves that you are worthy of this gift. When this war is finished and you have been restored, I will want the device back, that it might be destroyed. While it is in your care, fear not that the forces of the enemy might take it from you. The Gnome will be watching you, through it, and should another attempt to use it, that entity would first face the response of the Gnome then the four of us monitoring it's use. It will remain safe."*/ Aurora continues as the device materializes in Eric's hand. Those with an interest note that it looks much like an apple, into which someone with two prominent canines has bitten, but failed to remove any part. Closer examination will reveal that the 'teeth' impressions match Eric's exactly. From the 'stem' hangs an impossibly thin shimmering loop of something. So thin that it SHOULD slice through anything it touches, never the less it does not. 'Testing' will reveal that it will not slice through ANYTHING more solid than (liquid) water. Such testing will also reveal that the loop CANNOT be broken. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: Love and Darkness On Tue, 8 Feb 2005 13:45:26 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012368 >On Tue, 08 Feb 2005 11:47:25 -0800 >Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012367 >> Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012366 >>>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012358 >It will remain safe."*/ Aurora continues as the device materializes >in Eric's hand. Those with an interest note that it looks much like >an apple, into which someone with two prominent canines has bitten, >but failed to remove any part. Closer examination will reveal that >the 'teeth' impressions match Eric's exactly. From the 'stem' hangs >an impossibly thin shimmering loop of something. So thin that it >SHOULD slice through anything it touches, never the less it does not. >'Testing' will reveal that it will not slice through ANYTHING more >solid than (liquid) water. Such testing will also reveal that the >loop CANNOT be broken. Ziactrice tried to shield her mind somewhat; Aurora is loud even second-hand through her links to Eric. Thankfully, not as loud as Eric gets - and he somehow manages to shield her, almost reflexively, from most of it. "What about the addiction from using it? Aurora, can you provide me any assurance as to his long-term well-being? Lensmen are immune to mental addictions, but physically, biochemically, our bodies still can suffer. I've seen Lensmen die of thionite poisoning." The Petite Amberite grimaces, but it fails to hide her concern from Eric. "I'll withdraw the question if you find it to intrusive, Eric. This is your world, and your self." She smiles faintly. "Just remember, despite your Lensman's Load, there are people who don't like to see you hurting yourself, if it's avoidable, eh?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Tue, 08 Feb 2005 16:07:30 -0800 Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012370 >On Sat, 05 Feb 2005 21:43:59 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012354 >>On Thu, 27 Jan 2005 19:26:12 -0800 >>Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012352 >> >>Quiet Moon glances at the (presumably still) bound and gagged figure >>of Darkstock. "What of this one? He is too dangerous to be left to >>his own devices." >> >>"If it is alright, I would ask this one some questions if there is >>time. He may have information on a quarry that I have been pursuing >>for some time..." > > @As far as I'm concerned,@ the Hunter Lenses in his usual even >tone, @he's all yours.@ "My thanks. I assure you, I will not torture or harm him irreperably." "Oh, I suppose that makes you the 'good cop'?" Darkstock mocks him. Quiet Moon says nothing, taking him by the arm and leads the mad scientist to a side room. "I'm not scared, monk!" "You really are an idiot, you know that." The Kai says, almost conversationally. "I know, Darkstock. I know that you swore an oath to the Cener. Even now, I can see the sick, twisting vileness wrapping itself around your soul. YOu do not know what you have sworn yourself to, have you?" "Power. And the chance to rule my former realm." Darkstock replies, without hesitation. "Really? I have encountered Cener before." As he speaks, Quiet Moon's psychic powers 'draw' an image for Darkstock's benefit. "They are no longer human. Scarred and twisted by the power they have called on...tortured and devoured by Death, scarred and twisted by diseases that are visited on them by those same dark powers, minds twisted and blasted by visions of death, becoming little more than mere wights..." To emphasize his point, the Kai grabs one of Darkstock's wrists. "I doubt that Vurnos would approve of your little vanity." he remarks coldly, eyeing the healed over scars on the scientist's wrists. "Cener take pride in their scars." OOC: witty repartee, if any "Fool! Where I come from, you would be put to the sword, just for allying yourself with that order! And there would be none to come to your defense. Who did you swear the oath to? Was it Jhordax?" Quickly, his mind reaches out again, gauging the scientist's reaction to the name. "As I thought. And those Helghasts in the realm we just left, his parting gifts?" "I only have one more question, then. Where is he now?" ===========================