Through Tarnished Eyes
5nd of October 2006 A.D.
Though the agents and their superiors do not know it you already have nine answers you can draw out when you please, nine faces to set before the eyes that shine upon your crown. So you keep your peace until the last of the vans drives off, an unremarkable convoy bearing a remarkable cargo. "You didn't ask for their number," you say to Harry, carefully not to sound like you are scolding him for it.
"I don't need their number," he counters so quickly you wonder if he's had the argument before. It would not the the first time you agreed with Lasciel, strange as that might be to think.
"You don't
want their number," you can't quite keep yourself from correcting him. "It would probably be useful if you ever get arrested by some overzealous cop on a crusade against wizards or something, no offense lieutenant."
In spite of the last bit Karin Murphy cracks a smile at seeing Harry get grilled about this stuff, though that might just be relief at having handed off the last of her strange prisoners.
"I've already got enough people on speed dial kid and I don't even have speed dial," he shakes his head. "There isn't such a thing as a free lunch especially when it comes to the kinds of people who have accountants to keep score."
Surprisingly dad is nodding along, or maybe not so surprisingly if one remembers what he has said about the government meddling in magic. The Library of Congress may not be exactly that, but it's not exactly not that either, a grey middle ground between institution of the United States and secret society infiltrating the United States, but that's neither here nor there.
"You work with what you've got."
Like the black steel sword popped up in the back corner of the armory at the Last Station slowly making the pain peel, like the body of the greater akuma laid you had extracted from his temporary tomb last night not laid down on one of those steel tables they use in the morgue, still pristine in its morbidity. It's a good thing no one in the room has senses as sharp as yours had grown else they might have heard the sound of doubts being swallowed. "And do your best to make things better, can't do that from inside a jail cell."
Harry looks... well you don't want to say mulish. Resolute, that's it, he looks resolute in not making use of the good will he had already earned.
"Alright then, guess I'll have to hand on to their contacts extra hard," you say with carefully calculated good cheer. Hoping that...
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 11/12 (Empathy Excellency)
Yup, turns out you were right, the only thing Harry Dresden hates more than the prospect of entangling himself in another bureaucracy is the conviction that you will do it for him if you feel he needs the help. Grumbling something about you having enough on your place with Monoc he takes the card you offer him and writes down the number.
It probably does not help his mood when Mouse gives an approving bark, but it sure helps yours to know Harry now has one more tool to get out of the trouble he is so good at getting himself into. Just a pity it couldn't last.
***
The stained glass windows filled with the wisdom of Christ, recounting parables and extolling virtues and good words seem muted as though a cloud had passed behind them though the sky is clear. the silence swallows up the sound of the doors being pushed open and even dad's greeting seems only to make the air grow tense and watchful rather than break the sense of being watched, of being judged and found... wanting.
Reflexively you invoke that inner flame that had served you so well since you found your power and it found you, the utter conviction of who you are... and who you are is not apprehensive in the House of the Lord just because a petty demon happened to be transgressing against it and against the poor kid whose life it had stolen.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 10/12 (IPP)
It's hard to miss the small figure tied to a chair in front of the altar of sacrifice right under the central dome. In a way the chair and the one upon it seem almost as incongruous as the as the plain red oak wood, but where as it celebrates the contrast between the wonder of what is known of God's work and what must remain a mystery, celebrated each mass the chair and its bindings is something that does not belong, that cannot belong... and yet which is even in the House of God,
evil.
Raising her head the girl fixes you with eyes black as a lightless pit in her pale face. "Come to help scourge the wickedness out of us? To deliver us through pain?" The demon's voice is not the least transformed, she sounds for all the world like a nine year old kid, though the cold mockery behind it is much older than that. "For you it is to know the weeds from the good seeds or maybe you'd like more meat on that parable, the good flesh from the gristle. Rip and tear away. We can't stop you. We never could."
Father Forthil stands beside the statue of Saint Joseph at the left of the altar looking as wan as you have seen him. No doubt he had done exorcisms before, but the empty darkness of the Night Realm is not something he's had to face before. To you it is as familiar as the face you see in the mirror. The demon knows it cannot cling on so it is trying to do as much damage as it can reinforcing the notion that what is to follow is torture inflicted upon a child who has already seen far too many monsters in her short life pretending they want to help her and if it can spread more suffering to those 'stealing' its vessel so much the better will its spite be satisfied. It occurs to you that the life-bond Brother Divisimar had described which would have seen baby Almaz die if the girl herself had been killed might also be another way to prove a twisted point. 'They don't really care about the hostages, just about killing their enemies.'
True the old monk had been wise and experienced enough to avoid that tragedy, but for the child who had let a demon crawl in her soul just so she might have someone on her side it was far too little far too late. No matter how well this goes the scars on her soul will take a lifetime to heal. Unless that is you can persuade it to leave, unhook its claws and open its jaws, leave the girl with as little harm done as it can, the only problem being if you try and fail you will have just reinforced the message that monsters hide behind every king face and malice lurks in every seeming kindness.
As Usum rather bluntly puts it you can's scare just one snake in a tangle
What do you do?
[] Try to intimidate the demon of Kakuri Wan out of the girl
The task would be utterly impossible for an ordinary mortal (Base DC 12 -1 BSM -2 DPE -2 Demonic Guide = 7)
[] Observe the exorcism
From what you know of Father Forthil and given the presence of the Sword it seems very likely to succeed, but it will be quite harrowing
[] Write in
OOC: Just to be clear the thing Molly can attempt above is not magic, it is being so utterly terrifying that the demon voluntarily leaves its host causing the least damage possible. It is not a thing even a Senior Council wizard would get to roll, you either have to be a saint or a bigger meaner demon to do this. The latter is in your case represented by DPE in terms of presence and the Guide in terms of knowing just witch buttons to push. As for Michael, since I know it will be asked, while he is a good and righteous man is not a saint, he is the bearer of the Sword which has its own purpose to which is what is happening here is only tangentially related related, hence why he can't say cut the demon right out of her with angelic might. This is Forthil's job... if it gets that far. 
