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"MAIKS TO CORITH PARK"...."Oh, how really tremendously gratuitously NEAT...." All thoughts of french fries gone, Mercari bounced off in the direction of the only park she knew how to find, its Corith-ness be damned. South. Yup, definitely south.
The park, luckily enough, turned out to be the proper one.
There were several nice trees, kind of small though, and a swingset in a sand pit, and a Big-Toy, and Parrhesia looking kind of impatient. And off to one side was something that looked like a floating comedy-tragedy mask but more of an extreme-and-wilful-evil mask. And it had big shiny yellow eyes, like Merlin's. Merlin was cute. This thing looked kind of mean.
And then Genevieve wandered up, dripping wet and seemingly unaware of Ye Olde Floating Nastything. "Hi, Heron!! Guess what happened...I was home and I got hungry so I headed out and stepped in a puddle and I fell RIGHT THROUGH and I came up in that little swimming pool over there--" she pointed to an empty concrete fountain over Heron's left shoulder, "-and here I am! Fun, isn't it?"
Day looked around. "It's wonderful, dear." She turned to Parrhesia. "So, where are we headed? A wall told Mercari a few hours ago that the Tremere might be involved with whatever the heck is going on and quite frankly it scared the dickens out of Heron. I had to step in. A dreamy smile crossed her face. "Imagine. Being able to associate with something OTHER than Malkavians and bums..."
Heron saw a brief yet staggeringly colorful assortment of stars as Parrhesia's palm connected with her cheek.
"HEY! What the bloody flaming hell was THAT for, Parr? I've always been nice to you...never tracked mud into the house or begged at the table...haven't pawned your guitar and run off with your dog...oww."
Genevieve took this opportunity to get her own proverbial licks in, and before you could say" get these damn bugs OFF me" Heron's other cheek sported a matching red mark. She stood there, giggling, and Heron stared incredulously. "WASN'T ME," she chimed happily. "IT WAS PARR."
Glory lifted Genevieve by her hair and shook her a bit. "Dominate doesn't work like that, kid. NEVER smack your sire around, got it?" And with a bit of fleshcrafting, Genevieve's face became Heron's and her dark hair corkscrewed into off-blonde ringlets. Glory's complexion, meanwhile, darkened to Genevieve's shade and her hair straightened out with an almost audible POING. "See how you like it," Glory growled nastily. smak smak ker-whackity smack whack (momentary pause to readjust grip on hair) smackity smackity smack whak smack . . thud The thud was Genevieve dropping to the ground, wailing piteously. With a toss of her head, Glory restored her natural face and made a rude raspberry at her. "Okay, Parr, where we headed?"
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the fiend wiped the sludge off his body and found himself under it all...
"what the hell do you think you're doing on my back?" the fiend asked.
"lazyness?" came his reply.....
"fair enough i can't fault that......" he looked around at the other malks who looked back at him.... he was still smeared with excrament. he walked out side to bath in a small pool of relitivly clean water.... he cut himself and let the blood flow into the water.... "wait'll the rats drink out this one......"
he made his way back into the nosferatu's lair in time to see ere run out of a back room muttering something about tomorrow.
"this place stinks and i don't mean the smell," JoN said.
"time to move on i think," ere stated.
"as much as i am against the idea of thinking i ready to go with you on this one ere." the fiend invoked an opening in time and space into arcadia. "all aboard!!!!!!..... next stop egypt."
after much tumbling about and forcing one another through and a few mishapps in arcadia (one of the fiends now has a boon to pay for the fairies before JoN did too much damage, chriss has a blue face that won't scrub clean for awhile, R.O. collected some botany that he is clinicly experimenting the effects of smoking, ere was given a strange little bag and won't tell anyone about the contents within, and everyone else came through relativly unscathed(unless they want to write different)), they tumble out into the base of a pyramid. being day in this part of the world when they arrive they all promptly collapse on the floor except for the fiends who wander off to investigate.
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Mr Badger steps into the glowing tuunel. What the hell's Arcadia? He looks down at the somewhat unsubstational tunnel. He looks up very quickly and promises not to upset himself like that again. He wipes his forehead and finds it's wetter now than before. Mr Badger looks at his hand and what he finds horrifies him. On the palm now sits a blood red happy face. The wound dribbles blood continually down his hand. The change is upon him again.
How can this be? It's only been days since the last time. He shows his hand to Handel who hits his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"You've got crappy timing Badger," he says.
"It's not as if I've got any choice in the matter Popeye," replies Mr Badger with his usual wit and charm.
Handel reaches into his coat and pulls out an oversized choker lead.
"Now or later Badger?" He Asks.
"Better be now. I don't feel so well."
"It must be the Fey bring out the beast in you."
"Little bas...."
The rest of the sentence is lost as a strange glow surrounds Mr Badger. His form waxes and wanes inside the glow. Ere' pauses and takes out a notebook. When the transformation ends Mr Badger is gone and in his place sits a giant forest badger. Handel reaches over and attaches the chain. He narrowly avoids losing a few fingers as the badger displays a bit of bad temper. Handel replies by choking the life out of the badger. Even though it really doesn't have to breathe it soon settles down.
Towing the badger behind him Handel follows the others out of the tunnel towards the burning sands of Egypt.
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ME fights the urge to pass into slumber. This is ridiculous! She only got up a few hours ago. Concentrating on a low moaning noise she pushes herself up off the floor and tries to see what the problem is. Moving closer, she sees that it is the Nosferatu Julius. JoN holds him down while Handel appears to be performing a brutal form of surgery on him. Standing beside Handel's crouched form is the looming presence of Reverend Omnicynic, overseeing the interrogation.
"Why are you doing this? Aaaargh. Please, no more."
Handel does not appear to be paying attention to the words of the agonised vampire. Indeed, he seems to be listening to something else, his head cocked slightly to one side as the razor sharp knife cuts expertly through tendons and nerve complexes. As Erehwon also arrives at the scene he looks up. Erehwon opens his mouth to say something just as both Handel and Omnicynic speak also: "There was a miniature sphinx in the back room," they say in an eerie unison.
"That was good," says ME. "If you get a fourth you guys could do barbershop."
Julius' eyes widen as Omnicynic continues to speak. "It wanted us to stay there until tomorrow night. Moving was perhaps best. Despite its power level it is still unaware of our friend here's plight. Also, it doesn't have full information on why we are supposed to be here for that time period, although it believes . . . others will be making preparations during the day."
"This is a chance for a good deal of information for ourselves for once." Rising, Handel motions to JoN, who readily removes the now unconscious form of Julius. Locking eyes with Omnicynic he continues: "Thanks to Ere's brilliant insight I think we can sever its link to the main form, even if it is only for a short while. Then we can . . . question it with less fear of reprisal and less resistance. Yes?" Distractedly he wipes off his dagger with a handkerchief.
"Yes," replies Omnicynic. "We're outta here." Turning to a wall he inscribes a number of symbols and then stands back. Writhing as if suddenly possessed of life the runes reconfigure and form a gateway. "The link hadn't been down long enough, as I suspected. Come on Handel."
Handel is looking worriedly at a comatose form on the floor. "Oh dear." From within his coat he draws a large choker chain and lead. Where there should be a slightly shabby Kindred is now a giant badger. "The form has taken him, it happens on occasion. JoN, best you use the lead. He's a bit nasty, but a few tugs on the choker will make him behave. It shouldn't last more than a day and a night. For the moment however, he's completely animal. We should be back pretty quick anyway. Cheers." He steps into the portal after Omnicynic.
Badger snuffles in his sleep.
* * *
"You already knew about it, didn't you." Handel accuses as the pair step into the sewer once again.
"Of course. You're a little dependent on your props. Anyway, you appear to have sobered up rather quickly. It seems we all have our little secrets. Makes things more interesting."
Handel grunts in reply.
They enter the rear room and regard the creature. It does the same to them.
"Looks pretty sphinxy to me," says Handel. Winking at Omnicynic he directs a question at the winged cat. "What's the difference between a frog?"
Yawning, it responds. "Not in the same class as your fellow earlier, but something to pass the time. Once again I need not the mistress." It ponders. Omnicynic and Handel draw closer.
"This is a nonsense. I . . ."
Together they dive into the memories, thoughts and emotions of the sphinx. Pictures of times past and present flash by as they try to make the correct link to access their requirements. A face forms. Glowing yellow eyes regard them a moment before the being's defences try to destroy them. Information in a fantastic array batters at their senses, not in any form that can be assimilated, but in a form designed to reduce them to drooling vegetables. Despite their abilities, Handel and Omnicynic start to feel their defences crumbling.
"Quite tough, isn't it."
"Yes, I believe that the link is still up. There's far too much energy here just for this partial avatar."
"Do you want to do it, or shall I?"
"Go for it."
Holding up an astral hand, Handel shouts. "Time's up, I'm afraid. The answer is : Two of its legs are both the same."
At once the sensory battering ceases. "No. That tomfoolery is not a riddle. There is no precedent . . ."
"Oh, I think there is. Omni knew it. Didn't you, Rev.?"
"Yes. Your turn I think." Omnicynic observes the beast. "Ah, interesting," he says before it speaks. "Time."
An audible crack sounds. Slumping, the defeated minion quite obviously has been left to fend for itself.
As they move towards the rightfully worried animal Omnicynic asks: "Where'd you get the riddle?"
Slightly shamefacedly Handel grins. "Badger, actually."
* * *
Back at the airport the two look around the terminal.
"I'm sure Nighty and Ari should be along any minute. I caught a glimpse of them during last day's sleep. Only just remembered when we were reeling through those snapshots in its head. Must say, I expected a bit more out of it."
"It'll do for a start. I expect others will be along soon also." Omnicynic sees Handel looking longingly down a certain passageway where police signs are strewn with abandon. "Here." He hands over a beautifully crafted silver hip flask.
After checking (no he's not quite that stupid where alcohol is concerned) with a finger, Handel downs about half the bottle. Even Omnicynic is impressed.
Both of them ignore the passage of a rather harried looking police detective. Brows furrowed, he shouts at a cowering uniformed officer and curses his missing partner.
Lighting another of the fae joints, Omnicynic begins to analyse the sensations.
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It's hot, too hot. The light hurts. Why do I have to stay here?
Badger wonders off to the side. JoN tightens his hold on the lead.
Owwwww. Let me go! Badger fight! Bite, bite, bite
JoN hits the badger over the head and lets go of the chain
Badger free! Want to play. Manthing who smells of rum isn't here. Badger call out to manthing. Snuffle, snuffle, snuffle No answer. Play with someone else. Maybe manthing come back soon. Womanthing here. Womanthing smell nice. Badger play with her. Why womanthing run away? Badger follow. Womanthing run faster in a circle. Good game! Good game! Badger run faster! Extends claws to grip the surface easier Womanthing make loud noise! Womanthing smell of fear! Womanthing must be being hurt! Badger protect! Badger jump on her and scare off attacker! Where did that spade come from? SPONG!!
Everything goes black.....
Owwwww. Badgers head hurt. Why did I fall down? Nevermind, badger play game.
Manthing here with funny pointed hat. Badger play with him.
Ere' bends down and scratches the strangely friendly beast.
Ahhhh, that feels good. Makes badger feel funny. Just like spring time when other badgers come for visit. Badger show manthing he likes him.
Ere' jumps back as the badger does THAT DOG THING to his leg
Awww manthing go away. Maybe he belong to other badger? Badger bored. Why noone play with badger? Maybe that nice manthing over there will play.
Manthing smell funny. Manthing has smooth skin. Manthing does not have any hair on manthing's skin. Manthing have funny eyes. Manthing have funny tongue. Manthing carry a snake. Badger play with snake. Chomp Snake taste good! chomp Manthing taste good! Lots and lots of manthings with snakes.
Badger show new friends to old friends. Everyone gets excited! Badger play with everyone!
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The Malkavians stand in a circle disscussing (too many 's's but we are talking about Setites after all) their next move. Suddenly they are surrounded by angry naked men holding snakes (Thus ends the plot summary of the previous chapter) and don't forget the giant badger in the middle of the floor alternately chewing on a Setite and his snake.
The Setite high priest steps forward. You can tell who he is as his head dress is four times the size of anyone else's.
"Get a load of that makeup," says JoN revealing his feminine side.
(JoN looks roughly at the Storyteller for casting doubts about his manhood.)
The Setite high priest clears his throat and begins the usual evil rant. JoN looks on unimpressed as the Sabbat are past masters of the evil rant.
"Why do you tressssspasssss in our ssssssanctum!" Cries the Priest.
Behind him the other Setites look faintly embarassed at the obvious lengths the priest is going to too excentuate the tongue thing.
"Ssssssspeak now or be sssssslain for your sssssullying our Temple," continues the priest, ignoring the muffled laughter from behind.
A novice ( can be identified from the little head dress) runs up to the priest and desperately tries to shove a scroll into the priests hands.
"Why do you interupt me when I have them at my mercy?"
"A messsssssssage your Holynesssssssssss."
(JoN looks sternly at the Storyteller for overdoing an already tired running gag.)
The priest looks at the scroll and goes noticably pale. For a Kindred going so pale as to standout is difficult at the best of times. Those of the Malkavians who can lip read pick up a few of the words the priest mumbles to himself as he reads.
"....Tremere chantry.......utterly destroyed.......powerful spirital being......ignoring it.......mascara going cheap at K-Mart......Garou helping.........Elvis seen in Toronto.....Canada rum shortage....police suspect one one with a lift......"
The priest falls to his knees (the head dress narrowly misses flattening three novices) and begs forgivenesssssssss (sorry, had to do one more.) He explains that he did not mean any harm and would you all leave with out hurting him please?
The Malkavians know a good thing when it hits them on the head (like a spade) and so spend the day in disgusting luxury. The sheer opulence of the palace beggars the imagination. The next night they leave? carring a vastly over fed badger and leaving a Setite temple with an embarassing lack of snakes.
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The pain was intense... to regress is to repress pain... WhAt a pRittY loKing bloO CUloR...
The air throbbed and pulsed around Spooke (who was doing his own share of both) - all except for one small patch that hung silent and still, radiating worry.
%SPITZ IS GONE WHERE IS SPITZ%
Spooke lifted a hand weakly and pawed at the shifting blue colors. "Sire?..." he rattled sadly, blood tears running down his cheeks. "Why don't you know me, Sire? Why don't you remember me..." Suddenly he stiffened, and in a clear, calm voice said, "Tomorrow."
%ASH IS HURT POOR ASH SPITZ IS GONE WHERE IS SPITZ%
Spooke's eyes rolled about in their bloody sockets. "I thought THEY had me THEY were everywhere all around THEY had me... and then a bunch of weirdo religious geeks from La Cucaracha saved me by appearing so THEY couldn't take me... but I'm not safe here, THEY'll find me!!" His voice rose to a shriek as his chain of logic reached it's conclusion. "OH HELP ME ALEX HELP ME!!"
The cold pocket of air drifted closer, settled by Spooke's head. Spooke grabbed at it - and somehow his hands found purchase. "Alex..." Then his hands fell to weakly scrabbling at the thing in his chest. "Get help, Alex... find the others... help me!!"
His cries grew fainter, fainter. Quiet.
* * *
Loping. The Shadowlands rush by, gray and unrevealing. Phantom scents and dead emotions mingle; trails are long gone, but easy to follow. Here; a streetlight. Strong smell of not-presense.
Fighting. Here comes one back; barghest. Another. Glance around. Others gone.
* * *
T'revor turned at the savage growl of the barghest, who took several steps forward. A sharp jerk on the chain put a stop to that. But T'revor had to admit to himself, if no other, that the sight of a little white dog trotting toward him in the Shadowlands was somewhat surprising, and a first.
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T'revor stared at the small dog. The small dog stared back. The Barghest pulled at the chain with a slow growl on its lips. T'Revor looked at the dog, deeper and deeper into its soul. He laughed slowly. T'Revor released the Barghest and the beast ran straight at the dog.
"Go Tiber if that is what you really desire," he said.
The dog sat still and watched the Barghest draw near. The Barghest lept into the air, in an arc with the dog at its terminus. The Barghests mouth opened and row apon row of sharp teeth were exposed. The fight was over in an instant.
The small dog trotted over to T'Revor. The Barghest lay on its side howling into the Tempest. The wound on its side slowly leaking its corpus into the void.
"Not every thing is as it first appears Tiber. Learn to look closer at your prey," chuckled T'Revor. "Tiber return!"
The Barghest limped to its master who lay his hands on the beasts back. Energy crackled on the beast's fur as the wound filled in. The Barghest's growl grew stonger and stronger until the wound had vanished.
The dog came upto T'Revor ignoring the Barghest the entire way. T'Revor took the scroll out of the dog's mouth and read the contents.
"...heed my messenger and return with him. He means no harm but keep him away from the washing. Strange things are amiss and we are but a few..."
T'Revor was confused by the message. It must be a form of code or did it belong to those of the dark path he aided earlier ?
This bodes investigation. T'Revor reached into his cloak and retrived his Mask of Office. Putting on the mask he restrained the Barghest again and turned to the dog.
"Well?"
The dog scampered away toward a slowly opening vortex in the Tempest. The roar of the dark winds was muffled to the three travelers as they passed from the Shadowlands into another world.
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