As far as I know, Infernal Exaltations are still considered Celestial.
Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
- Crossover Fantasy
Yzarc
The Spark of Madness
Actually on signatures. @DragonParadox are you going by RAW or can we use the signature like a Solar/Abyssal?
We already have a scene long -1 in BSM and the power seems too cool to not make use of.
Even without the -1 the ability to make use of the inner world for stunting allows us to interact with it in a way that will be consistently relevant without being forced to go inside for a few days.
So there is no real reason to lock it behind a once a story power that takes literal real life months to use.
Especially as Holden has gone on record stating that the only reason shintais even have that restriction is to differentiate it from Lunar rage forms. Yeah.
We already have a scene long -1 in BSM and the power seems too cool to not make use of.
Even without the -1 the ability to make use of the inner world for stunting allows us to interact with it in a way that will be consistently relevant without being forced to go inside for a few days.
So there is no real reason to lock it behind a once a story power that takes literal real life months to use.
Especially as Holden has gone on record stating that the only reason shintais even have that restriction is to differentiate it from Lunar rage forms. Yeah.
We are going by RaW, they get more accessible super-charms you get your own world to be god queen of, seems reasonably balanced.
Yep, Exaltations come in two broad flavors: Celestial and Terestrial, no box marked other and all Solaroids are Celestial.
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- Location
- Dallas Texas
I wonder how our signature charm works when inside our hell- do we only get the +1 stunt bonus there or can we shuffle environments around ourselves at will to do stuff like summon the jungles or cities in the wastes?
It would be a very interesting image to travel into the wastes on a road the builds ahead of us, vanishes behind us, building rising and falling the whole way.
It would be a very interesting image to travel into the wastes on a road the builds ahead of us, vanishes behind us, building rising and falling the whole way.
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You get the +1, since you are already in your hell there are no dimensional Shenanigans you can pull to make it different. The shintai does not fold the world in on itself like that.
- Location
- Australia
Thanks for the clarification, I was conflating Celestial with specifically Solar Exaltation (which Infernal Exaltations are based off of, correct?). In which case Uriel wasn't incorrect, just not specific.
Actually, that leads me to another question about Infernal Exaltations, specifically if Green Sun Princes(ses) (which to my understanding is what we are) are corrupted/modified Solar Exaltations, does that mean that as with Solar Exalts we have a Lunar Exaltation (which may or may not be currently in use by an Exalted) that we are "bonded" to? (Note that the Solar/Abyssal/Infernal-Lunar bond isn't necessarily romantic, and can be more akin to deep friendships up to platonic life partners, or even bitter rivalries, at least as far as I understand it.) I'm guessing if we do, perhaps we might find out whenever we find out more about our Exaltation's past?
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- Infernal and Abyssal Exaltations are based off Solar, keep in mind though Uriel did not say 'Celestial', he just said Exaltation, the rest of it was Molly rolling Occult at the mention of them.
- They all had their Lunar pairs and since Exaltations cannot be destroyed they must still exist in some form. As to if you can find it... for that you would have to go looking
- Location
- Australia
Thanks for the clarification! I guess if we want to give Harry a gift, we know what to look for now...
For the Last Station cannot think of much, some advanced senors, some auto weapons, link it up the SUTRA. Maybe get some plates of metal from the Hell, and line the walls, roof, and floor, with them, with our crafting charm melding them into one giant piece of metal should be possible. And if possible have them form a giant warding that prevents outside scrying.
fictionfan
Please sir, may I have some Meows?
- Location
- Tempe, AZ
So what are we going to do with the Jade Dogs? I am inclined to import them into our kingdom as cultural attache*. Well at the same time replacing all their duties of guarding last station with people from our kingdom.
*That is to say people whose job is to tell everything that they know about earth and help our people learn English.
*That is to say people whose job is to tell everything that they know about earth and help our people learn English.
[x] Just go to bed, you haven't slept in days, whoever was listening in should have run already.
Vote closed, no one seems to be interested in saving your siblings from the Wrath of Charity (TM) so on we go.
- Location
- Who knows?
Is gonna be a learning experience!
Nope they couldnt. Strongly disagree.
The very history of the First Age would be very different if your elder Sidereal had anything like the foresight an angel is supposed to. Given the lack of restrictions on the Exalts and the Incarna, Creation's would have looked very different.
The Great Curse and all of its consequences? Even the Great Contagion? Things that wouldnt have turned out the way they did if anyone in power in Creation had anything like the ability to gather information or predict and track ripple effects that Butcher states your basic angel does in the Dresdenverse.
I mean, the Sidereals didnt even know the Solar Exaltations had been freed from their prison until they started popping up all over the place, and THEY put them there.
And yes, Im counting the Incarna in this.
Sol Invictus entire episode with the raksha Prince Laashe is pretty conclusive about the limits the Incarna work inside.
One: Charity has been married to a Knight of the Cross for around twenty years or more.
This is not going to be the first time that Michael has had to keep other people's secrets from her. If she couldnt deal with it, they wouldnt still be married.
Two: Harry is the current guardian of Fidelacchius, the Sword of Faith.
Its right there in his home, and was handed over to him when Shiro surrendered himself to Nicodemus in Death Masks, and was deliberately left with him after Shiro died. Heaven and Heaven's agents knew about the Coin, and still left him with the Sword.
Thats as much of a character reference that Michael might need to confirm his own judgement.
Three: People forget that Charity knows the meaning of secrets.
She told Dresden about her own history with magic in June, a secret that she outright says she's never told Michael about (not saying he doesnt know because who knows with paladins, just that she has never told him and believes he doesnt know). She has definitely never told her kids that she used to do magic, or that she was in a cult, or almost sacrificed to a dragon.
She isnt going to push here if Michael asks her not to.
Citation:
I ate my sandwiches. Then I went looking for Charity.
I found her in the chapel, sitting up high in the balcony. She stared down at the altar, and did not react when I came up the steps to her and settled down on the bench beside her. I sat with her in silence for a minute.
"Charity," I whispered. "I need to ask you something."
She sat in stony silence. Her chin moved a fraction of a degree up and down.
"How long?" I murmured.
"How long since what?" she asked.
I took a deep breath. "How long has it been since you've used your magic?"
I found her in the chapel, sitting up high in the balcony. She stared down at the altar, and did not react when I came up the steps to her and settled down on the bench beside her. I sat with her in silence for a minute.
"Charity," I whispered. "I need to ask you something."
She sat in stony silence. Her chin moved a fraction of a degree up and down.
"How long?" I murmured.
"How long since what?" she asked.
I took a deep breath. "How long has it been since you've used your magic?"
I couldn't have gotten more of a reaction if I'd shot her. Charity's face turned sheet white, the blood draining from it. She froze in place grasping the edge of the wooden pew in front of her with both hands. Her knuckles turned white, and the wood creaked. She gnashed her teeth and bowed her head.
I didn't push. I waited.
She opened her eyes again, and she wasn't hard to read. Her thoughts and emotions were clear on her face. Panic. Desperation. Self-loathing. Her eyes flicked from one possibility to another. She considered denying it. She considered lying to me. She considered simply walking away.
"Charity," I told her. "Tell me the truth."
Her breathing quickened. I saw her desperation growing.
I reached out with one hand and turned her face toward me. "Your daughter needs you. If we don't help her, she's going to die."
Charity flinched and pulled away from me. Her shoulders shook with a silent sob. She fought to control her breathing, her voice, and whispered, "A lifetime."
I felt some tension ease in me. Her reaction confirmed that I was on the right track.
"How did you know?" she asked.
"Just putting lots of little things together," I said. "Please, Charity. Tell me."
Her voice was rough, half strangled, as though the breath that carried her words had been tainted with something rotten. "I had some talent. It showed just before my sixteenth birthday. You know how awkward that kind of thing can be."
"Yeah," I said. "How'd your family take it?"
Her mouth twisted. "My parents were wealthy. Respectable. When they had time to notice me, they expected me to be normal. Respectable. They found it easier to believe that I was a drug addict. Emotionally unbalanced."
I winced. There were a lot of situations that could meet someone with a burgeoning magical talent. Charity's was one of the worst.
"They sent me away to schools," she said. "And to hospitals disguised as schools." She waved a hand. "I eventually left them. Just left them. I struck out on my own."
"And fell in with a bad crowd," I said quietly.
She gave me a bitter smile. "You've heard this story before."
"It isn't uncommon," I said quietly. "Who was it?"
"A… coven, of sorts, I suppose," she said. "More of a cult. There was a young man leading it. Gregor. He had power. He and the others, all young people, mixed in religion and mysticism and philosophy and… well. You've probably seen such things before."
I nodded. I had. A charismatic leader, dedicated followers, a collection of strays and homeless runaways. It rarely developed into something positive.
"I wasn't strongly gifted," she said. "Not like you. But I learned about some of what happens out there. About the White Council." The bitter smile returned. "Everyone was terrified of them. A Warden visited us once. He delivered a warning to Gregor. He'd been toying about with some kind of summoning spells, and the Wardens got wind of it. They interviewed each of us. Evaluated us. Told us the Laws of Magic, and told us never to break them if we wished to live."
I nodded and listened. She spoke more quickly now, the words coming out in a growing rush. They had been pent up a long time.
"Gregor resented it. He grew distant. He began practicing magic that walked the crumbling edges of the Council's Laws. He had us all doing it." Her eyes grew cold. "The others began disappearing. One by one. No one knew where they had gone. But I saw what was happening. I saw Gregor growing in power."
"He was trading them," I said.
She nodded once. "He saw my face, when I realized it. I was the next one to go. He came to take me away, and I fought him. Tried to kill him. Wanted to kill him. But he beat me. I remember only parts of it. Being chained to an iron post."
"The dragon," I said.
She nodded. Some of the bitterness faded from her smile. "And Michael came. And he destroyed the monster. And saved me." She looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, but she did not blink. "I swore to myself that I would leave that behind me. The magic. The power. I had… urges." She swallowed. "To do things only… only a monster would do. When Siriothrax died, Gregor went mad. Utterly mad. But I wanted to turn my power against him anyway. I couldn't think of anything else."
"Hard to do," I said quietly. "You were a kid. No real training. Exposed to some nasty uses of power."
"Yes," she said. "Without Michael, I would never have been able to leave it behind me. He never knew. He still doesn't know. He remained near me, in my life. Making sure that I was all right. And… he was such a good soul. When he smiled at me, it was like all the light in the world was shining out at me. I wanted to be worthy of that smile.
"My husband saved my life, Mister Dresden, and not only from the dragon. He saved me from myself." She shook her head. "I never touched my power again after the night I met Michael. We married soon after. And in time, the power withered. And good riddance to it."
"So when Molly's talent began to manifest," I said quietly, "you tried to get her to abandon it as well."
"I was well aware of how dangerous it could be," she said. "How innocent it could seem." She shook her head. "I did not want her exposed to the things that had nearly destroyed my life."
"But she did it anyway," I guessed. "That's what really came between the two of you. That's why she ran away from home."
Charity's voice turned raw. "Yes. I couldn't get through to her how dangerous it was. What she might be sacrificing." She made no effort to stem or hide her tears. "And you were there. A hero who fought beside her father. Used his power to help people." She let out a tired laugh. "For the love of God, you saved my life. We named our child for you. Once she realized she had the talent, nothing could keep her from it."
Christ. No wonder Charity hadn't much liked me. Not only was I dragging her husband off to who knew where to fight who knew what, I was also setting an example to Molly of everything Charity wanted her to avoid.
"I didn't know," I told her.
She shook her head. Then she said, "I have been honest with you. No one else knows what you do now. Not Michael. Not my daughter. No one." She drew a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped at her eyes. "What has happened to my daughter?"
I exhaled. "What I've got right now is still mostly guesswork," I said. "But my gut tells me it all fits together."
"I understand," she said.
I nodded, and told Charity about the attacks at the convention, and about how Molly had gotten me involved. "I examined the victims of the first two attacks," I said quietly. "One of them, a girl named Rosie, showed evidence of a land of psychic trauma. At the time, I attributed it to the phage's attack on her."
Charity frowned. "It wasn't?"
I shook my head. "I found an identical trauma on Nelson." I took a deep breath and said, "Molly is the link between them. They're both her friends. I think she was the one who hurt them. I think she used magic to invade their minds."
Charity stared at me, her expression sickened. "What? No…" She shook her head. "No, Molly wouldn't…" Her face grew even more pale. "Oh, God. She's broken one of the Council's Laws." She shook her head more violently. "No, no, no. She would not do such a thing."
I grimaced and said, "I think I know what she did. And why she did it."
"Tell me."
I took a deep breath. "Rosie is pregnant. And she showed physical evidence of drug addiction, but none of the psychological evidence of withdrawal. I think Molly took steps when she found out her friend was pregnant-to force her away from the drugs. I think she did it to protect the baby. And then I think she did the same thing to Nelson. But something went wrong. I think what she did to him broke something." I shook my head. "He got paranoid, erratic."
Charity stared down at the altar below, shaking her head. "Is it the Council then, that took her?"
"No," I said. "No. What she did to Rosie and Nelson left a kind of mark on her. A stain. I think she forced Rosie and Nelson to feel fear whenever they came near their drugs. Fear is a powerful motivator and it's easy to exploit. She wanted them to be afraid of the drugs. She had good intentions, but she wanted her friends to be frightened."
"I don't understand."
"Whoever called up these phages," I said, "needed a way to guide them from the Nevernever to the physical world. They needed a beacon, someone who would resonate with a sympathetic vibe. Someone who, like the phages, wanted to make people feel fear."
"And they used my Molly," Charity whispered. Then she stared at me for a moment. "You did it," she said quietly. "You tried to turn the phages back upon their summoner. You sent them after my daughter."
I didn't push. I waited.
She opened her eyes again, and she wasn't hard to read. Her thoughts and emotions were clear on her face. Panic. Desperation. Self-loathing. Her eyes flicked from one possibility to another. She considered denying it. She considered lying to me. She considered simply walking away.
"Charity," I told her. "Tell me the truth."
Her breathing quickened. I saw her desperation growing.
I reached out with one hand and turned her face toward me. "Your daughter needs you. If we don't help her, she's going to die."
Charity flinched and pulled away from me. Her shoulders shook with a silent sob. She fought to control her breathing, her voice, and whispered, "A lifetime."
I felt some tension ease in me. Her reaction confirmed that I was on the right track.
"How did you know?" she asked.
"Just putting lots of little things together," I said. "Please, Charity. Tell me."
Her voice was rough, half strangled, as though the breath that carried her words had been tainted with something rotten. "I had some talent. It showed just before my sixteenth birthday. You know how awkward that kind of thing can be."
"Yeah," I said. "How'd your family take it?"
Her mouth twisted. "My parents were wealthy. Respectable. When they had time to notice me, they expected me to be normal. Respectable. They found it easier to believe that I was a drug addict. Emotionally unbalanced."
I winced. There were a lot of situations that could meet someone with a burgeoning magical talent. Charity's was one of the worst.
"They sent me away to schools," she said. "And to hospitals disguised as schools." She waved a hand. "I eventually left them. Just left them. I struck out on my own."
"And fell in with a bad crowd," I said quietly.
She gave me a bitter smile. "You've heard this story before."
"It isn't uncommon," I said quietly. "Who was it?"
"A… coven, of sorts, I suppose," she said. "More of a cult. There was a young man leading it. Gregor. He had power. He and the others, all young people, mixed in religion and mysticism and philosophy and… well. You've probably seen such things before."
I nodded. I had. A charismatic leader, dedicated followers, a collection of strays and homeless runaways. It rarely developed into something positive.
"I wasn't strongly gifted," she said. "Not like you. But I learned about some of what happens out there. About the White Council." The bitter smile returned. "Everyone was terrified of them. A Warden visited us once. He delivered a warning to Gregor. He'd been toying about with some kind of summoning spells, and the Wardens got wind of it. They interviewed each of us. Evaluated us. Told us the Laws of Magic, and told us never to break them if we wished to live."
I nodded and listened. She spoke more quickly now, the words coming out in a growing rush. They had been pent up a long time.
"Gregor resented it. He grew distant. He began practicing magic that walked the crumbling edges of the Council's Laws. He had us all doing it." Her eyes grew cold. "The others began disappearing. One by one. No one knew where they had gone. But I saw what was happening. I saw Gregor growing in power."
"He was trading them," I said.
She nodded once. "He saw my face, when I realized it. I was the next one to go. He came to take me away, and I fought him. Tried to kill him. Wanted to kill him. But he beat me. I remember only parts of it. Being chained to an iron post."
"The dragon," I said.
She nodded. Some of the bitterness faded from her smile. "And Michael came. And he destroyed the monster. And saved me." She looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, but she did not blink. "I swore to myself that I would leave that behind me. The magic. The power. I had… urges." She swallowed. "To do things only… only a monster would do. When Siriothrax died, Gregor went mad. Utterly mad. But I wanted to turn my power against him anyway. I couldn't think of anything else."
"Hard to do," I said quietly. "You were a kid. No real training. Exposed to some nasty uses of power."
"Yes," she said. "Without Michael, I would never have been able to leave it behind me. He never knew. He still doesn't know. He remained near me, in my life. Making sure that I was all right. And… he was such a good soul. When he smiled at me, it was like all the light in the world was shining out at me. I wanted to be worthy of that smile.
"My husband saved my life, Mister Dresden, and not only from the dragon. He saved me from myself." She shook her head. "I never touched my power again after the night I met Michael. We married soon after. And in time, the power withered. And good riddance to it."
"So when Molly's talent began to manifest," I said quietly, "you tried to get her to abandon it as well."
"I was well aware of how dangerous it could be," she said. "How innocent it could seem." She shook her head. "I did not want her exposed to the things that had nearly destroyed my life."
"But she did it anyway," I guessed. "That's what really came between the two of you. That's why she ran away from home."
Charity's voice turned raw. "Yes. I couldn't get through to her how dangerous it was. What she might be sacrificing." She made no effort to stem or hide her tears. "And you were there. A hero who fought beside her father. Used his power to help people." She let out a tired laugh. "For the love of God, you saved my life. We named our child for you. Once she realized she had the talent, nothing could keep her from it."
Christ. No wonder Charity hadn't much liked me. Not only was I dragging her husband off to who knew where to fight who knew what, I was also setting an example to Molly of everything Charity wanted her to avoid.
"I didn't know," I told her.
She shook her head. Then she said, "I have been honest with you. No one else knows what you do now. Not Michael. Not my daughter. No one." She drew a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped at her eyes. "What has happened to my daughter?"
I exhaled. "What I've got right now is still mostly guesswork," I said. "But my gut tells me it all fits together."
"I understand," she said.
I nodded, and told Charity about the attacks at the convention, and about how Molly had gotten me involved. "I examined the victims of the first two attacks," I said quietly. "One of them, a girl named Rosie, showed evidence of a land of psychic trauma. At the time, I attributed it to the phage's attack on her."
Charity frowned. "It wasn't?"
I shook my head. "I found an identical trauma on Nelson." I took a deep breath and said, "Molly is the link between them. They're both her friends. I think she was the one who hurt them. I think she used magic to invade their minds."
Charity stared at me, her expression sickened. "What? No…" She shook her head. "No, Molly wouldn't…" Her face grew even more pale. "Oh, God. She's broken one of the Council's Laws." She shook her head more violently. "No, no, no. She would not do such a thing."
I grimaced and said, "I think I know what she did. And why she did it."
"Tell me."
I took a deep breath. "Rosie is pregnant. And she showed physical evidence of drug addiction, but none of the psychological evidence of withdrawal. I think Molly took steps when she found out her friend was pregnant-to force her away from the drugs. I think she did it to protect the baby. And then I think she did the same thing to Nelson. But something went wrong. I think what she did to him broke something." I shook my head. "He got paranoid, erratic."
Charity stared down at the altar below, shaking her head. "Is it the Council then, that took her?"
"No," I said. "No. What she did to Rosie and Nelson left a kind of mark on her. A stain. I think she forced Rosie and Nelson to feel fear whenever they came near their drugs. Fear is a powerful motivator and it's easy to exploit. She wanted them to be afraid of the drugs. She had good intentions, but she wanted her friends to be frightened."
"I don't understand."
"Whoever called up these phages," I said, "needed a way to guide them from the Nevernever to the physical world. They needed a beacon, someone who would resonate with a sympathetic vibe. Someone who, like the phages, wanted to make people feel fear."
"And they used my Molly," Charity whispered. Then she stared at me for a moment. "You did it," she said quietly. "You tried to turn the phages back upon their summoner. You sent them after my daughter."
In short: I'd become a politician.
But instead of moaning about it, I found myself laughing. Given all that had happened, matters could have been much, much worse. Molly was coming home safe. The murderous fetches had been dispatched. The vampires had been handed their first significant defeat since the cold war combusted.
After the events of the day, tomorrow surely held nothing for me to fear, and I trusted that it would take care of itself until I could rest, eat, and put an end to the last details of the business at hand.
Molly and Michael had waited with me: When Michael covered Luccio's retreat through the nearer regions of the Nevernever, he had gotten back to Chicago without paying for the gas, but his truck was still back in the middle of nowhere, Oregon. He'd need to have it shipped back, or else make a long drive with a partner. He needed a ride home, and I was it.
The Beetle's floorboards settled almost all the way to the ground by the time everyone was on board, and I drove carefully away from the warehouse. Molly chattered on about a confusing blur of things for maybe two minutes and then went abruptly silent.
Michael checked over his shoulder. "Asleep," he reported quietly.
"She's had a busy day," I said.
He sighed. "Tell me what happened?"
I told him everything. Except the parts with Lasciel in them. And I didn't mention Charity's neglected talent for magic. I thought for a second that I could hear a ghostly, amused laugh from somewhere nearby. Optimistically, I wrote it off to my fatigued imagination.
Michael shook his head. "How did you know that I would return as I did?"
"Oh, I didn't," I said. "I just figured that you must have been sent off to do something to help your kid, so I asked Forthill to get word to you that you needed to be back here pronto, and that if you were with any Council members they should come with you. You got the message?"
He nodded. "It found me at Luccio's camp in Colorado. We'd beaten off a vampire attack and were preparing to move. If I hadn't gotten the message, I wouldn't have followed them on their path through the Nevernever."
"What happened?"
"Demons," Michael said. "Quite a few of them, actually."
"What kind?"
"Oh. Fangs. Tentacles. You know, the usual."
I snorted. "No. I mean, were they Outsiders?"
"Ebenezar said something about Outsiders, yes, now that you mention it. Apparently his magic had difficulty dealing with them."
I shook my head. "I'm glad you were with them."
"Under the circumstances, so am I." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You assumed I had been sent to help the White Council so that they would show mercy to my daughter."
I shrugged. "It was either that or else I was the one meant to look out for her, which would mean that it was possible for me to do so. So I decided to lean on the Merlin."
Michael blinked and stared at me. "If I do not mistake your meaning, you just told me that you took a leap of faith."
"No. I took your leap of faith, by proxy." I shook my head. "Look, Michael. I try to stay out of God's way as much as I possibly can. I don't expect Him to send a rescue party for me if I'm in trouble."
"Harry, I know you aren't a churchgoing man, but God does help people who aren't perfect."
"Sure," I said, and I couldn't keep all the sneer out of my voice. "That's why the world is such a happy, orderly place."
Michael sighed. "Harry, God does protect us from harm-it's part of what I and my brothers in arms are tasked to do. But he's a great deal less involved in protecting us from the consequences of our choices."
But instead of moaning about it, I found myself laughing. Given all that had happened, matters could have been much, much worse. Molly was coming home safe. The murderous fetches had been dispatched. The vampires had been handed their first significant defeat since the cold war combusted.
After the events of the day, tomorrow surely held nothing for me to fear, and I trusted that it would take care of itself until I could rest, eat, and put an end to the last details of the business at hand.
Molly and Michael had waited with me: When Michael covered Luccio's retreat through the nearer regions of the Nevernever, he had gotten back to Chicago without paying for the gas, but his truck was still back in the middle of nowhere, Oregon. He'd need to have it shipped back, or else make a long drive with a partner. He needed a ride home, and I was it.
The Beetle's floorboards settled almost all the way to the ground by the time everyone was on board, and I drove carefully away from the warehouse. Molly chattered on about a confusing blur of things for maybe two minutes and then went abruptly silent.
Michael checked over his shoulder. "Asleep," he reported quietly.
"She's had a busy day," I said.
He sighed. "Tell me what happened?"
I told him everything. Except the parts with Lasciel in them. And I didn't mention Charity's neglected talent for magic. I thought for a second that I could hear a ghostly, amused laugh from somewhere nearby. Optimistically, I wrote it off to my fatigued imagination.
Michael shook his head. "How did you know that I would return as I did?"
"Oh, I didn't," I said. "I just figured that you must have been sent off to do something to help your kid, so I asked Forthill to get word to you that you needed to be back here pronto, and that if you were with any Council members they should come with you. You got the message?"
He nodded. "It found me at Luccio's camp in Colorado. We'd beaten off a vampire attack and were preparing to move. If I hadn't gotten the message, I wouldn't have followed them on their path through the Nevernever."
"What happened?"
"Demons," Michael said. "Quite a few of them, actually."
"What kind?"
"Oh. Fangs. Tentacles. You know, the usual."
I snorted. "No. I mean, were they Outsiders?"
"Ebenezar said something about Outsiders, yes, now that you mention it. Apparently his magic had difficulty dealing with them."
I shook my head. "I'm glad you were with them."
"Under the circumstances, so am I." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You assumed I had been sent to help the White Council so that they would show mercy to my daughter."
I shrugged. "It was either that or else I was the one meant to look out for her, which would mean that it was possible for me to do so. So I decided to lean on the Merlin."
Michael blinked and stared at me. "If I do not mistake your meaning, you just told me that you took a leap of faith."
"No. I took your leap of faith, by proxy." I shook my head. "Look, Michael. I try to stay out of God's way as much as I possibly can. I don't expect Him to send a rescue party for me if I'm in trouble."
"Harry, I know you aren't a churchgoing man, but God does help people who aren't perfect."
"Sure," I said, and I couldn't keep all the sneer out of my voice. "That's why the world is such a happy, orderly place."
Michael sighed. "Harry, God does protect us from harm-it's part of what I and my brothers in arms are tasked to do. But he's a great deal less involved in protecting us from the consequences of our choices."
I marched her up to her house without answering her. Molly wore a hopeless look on her face, as though she envied a condemned criminal, who could at least hope that the governor might call at the last minute. But when the doors opened and her family's delight washed over her in a roar like a breaking wave, she smiled from her eyes all the way down to her toes.
I made polite chat for a minute, until Mouse limped over to me, smiling and wagging his tail. There was something on his muzzle that I suspected to be honey mustard, or maybe buffalo sauce, doubtless slipped to him by a young accomplice. I clipped his lead on him and took my leave, heading back to my car.
Before I got there, Charity caught up with me. I arched an eyebrow at her and waited while she fidgeted and finally asked, "Did you tell them? About what I was?"
"Of course not," I said.
She slumped a little in relief. "Oh."
"You're welcome," I said.
She frowned at me and said, "If you hurt my little girl, I'll come down to that little closet you call an office and throw you out the window. Do you understand?"
"Death by defenestration, gotcha."
A few tiny cracks developed in her frown, and then she shook her head sharply, once, caught me in a hug that made my ribs ache, and went back into the house without another word.
Mouse sat there panting and grinning happily.
I went home and got some sleep.
I made polite chat for a minute, until Mouse limped over to me, smiling and wagging his tail. There was something on his muzzle that I suspected to be honey mustard, or maybe buffalo sauce, doubtless slipped to him by a young accomplice. I clipped his lead on him and took my leave, heading back to my car.
Before I got there, Charity caught up with me. I arched an eyebrow at her and waited while she fidgeted and finally asked, "Did you tell them? About what I was?"
"Of course not," I said.
She slumped a little in relief. "Oh."
"You're welcome," I said.
She frowned at me and said, "If you hurt my little girl, I'll come down to that little closet you call an office and throw you out the window. Do you understand?"
"Death by defenestration, gotcha."
A few tiny cracks developed in her frown, and then she shook her head sharply, once, caught me in a hug that made my ribs ache, and went back into the house without another word.
Mouse sat there panting and grinning happily.
I went home and got some sleep.
Its worth remembering that we largely see Charity from the PoV of her daughter, filtered through eighteen years of parent-sibling relationship. That colors our expectations.
Its not an entirely accurate picture that Molly gets.
COMMENTARY
About as expected.
I didnt expect him to answer most of those questions, but even the negative answers told us something.
At least Molly has a name for what we are, and we know there's 1 or more other Exaltations out there.
We need to remember to find a disposable member/citizen of Winter and use them as a focus to uncover what other information that Winter holds on the Exalted.
I wonder when the jawas will realize that the angel knew very well that they were there and said nothing.
So if he wanted to keep them from hearing, he'd either have put up something like a magic privacy curtain, or simply ratted them out.
Monstrous rolls here
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She noticed? Huh.
Uriel didnt rat them out, and Im pretty certain he knew they were there all along.
A point I might see Michael making to his wife in private.
I would have voted to stage a distraction if I had gotten to vote, but honestly its just as realistic that Molly was too mentally tired to pull off a distraction in time.
I'd chalk this up to a learning experience. Git gud scrubs.
- Location
- Germany
Different thought, the listener might have been why Uriel cut us off, rather than let us speak the names of Theion or the Neverborn and then saying no.
Maybe. Maybe not.
The Carpenter household is, iirc, the only place in the Chicago area that is permanently protected against even Fallen Angel-scale magical surveillance, and its entirely within Uriel's power to prevent anyone he doesnt want to hear us from doing so.
Just censor the word out beyond the immediate participants in the conversation.
I dont really feel comfortable taking a position on this.
Raw materials for magical wards; we can afford to use the good stuff if necessary.
Spare train chassis, or the parts to build one, from our Hell for Potter; we can customize it as needed
Surveillance cameras, screens and such should be off the shelf
Ditto furnishings, lights, heating/cooling equipment if necessary in the human habitable portions.
An armory for weapons and armor.
Probably some notRoombas/remote platforms to do stuff like basic sanitation, unless we're expecting the Jade Dogs to do it.
I probably wouldnt go with weapons turrets as standard. Thats just asking for trouble.
Especially since controlling electronics within 300 yards is an element of one of Mikaboshi's Investments for akumas.
Not until Molly acquires Exalted Craft.
That stuff should be for Tier 2 or higher; Dragons Nest ratings go up to Tier 5.
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Winning Vote
Arc 9 Post 6: Sharing Stories
Sharing Stories
18th of November 2006 A.D.
Mom is not happy to find someone has eavesdropped at the door, she is even less happy to find it is two someones in the form of Leech dressed in an old green hoody that she insists on wearing to bed between October and April and Mathew in old DBZ pajamas that were his deep dark uncool secret, the kind every thirteen year old had from their friends. Not that looking uncool is his main problem at the moment or Leech's for that matter. Mom had just spend the last half hour trying and failing to get some semblance of control of a conversation so out there it might as well have had green flame rocket boosters on it and at the end of it she did not even get to chew the offending party out. Well now... listening in at doors definitely was a problem and neither Matthew or Leech had been blessed with the ancient power of weaseling out of trouble.
Too bad for them, you think as you can still hear mom quite clearly from atop the stairs, but you endured that gauntlet when you were their age and they should too. Builds character, or at least it builds an understanding that you should leave when the guest is saying their goodbyes not wait to hear every last reaction. To be fair to the jawas you were never grounded over overhearing the Archangel Uriel explain the ins and outs of cosmic significance, the most you got was knight business.
For now bed. Sweet dreamless oblivion, only slightly marred by the question of what the Imperial Bedroom in the Palace of Serene Majesty looked like. With your luck there were probably 25 of them each with their own lovingly crafted feng shui to attune your mind to a different aspect of the cosmos.
***
19h of November 2006 A.D.
Regained 3 Essence -> Now at 15/15
Regained 1 Willpower -> Now at 8/9
After breezing or maybe hammering your way though schoolwork with the determination of someone who has more important things to do and really, really does not want Mrs Mendoza or someone getting suspicious of all those sick days you had to pull you phone Izzy and Alec to make sure they are OK. Then you have a long talk with Anna about things being peaceful for now, but that the Order should not drop its guard, refraining to mention the truce you made with the prehistoric horror that is Broken Seeker and definitely not talking about how you do it. Next up Isabela... whom you do talk about the Skinwalker flirting with because it was gross and icky and if you do not talk about it with someone it feels like you might vomit at an inopportune time.
To be honest even though you had phoned her because 'monster flirting' feels like something up her alley you had been half afraid she'd make a joke out of it or not get what the big deal was. Instead you get: "Wait a sec so I won't get overheard." And then to the background of birdsong to a walk deep in the gardens: "Ooof that sounds rough. Big 'elder showing you the ropes' energy there. I never got it as bad as some but you can't really avoid creeps talking at you at big events. Like I get it, they are more jaded than the entire late-Roman Senate after twelve days of non-stop orgies, but that does not mean the rest of us want to hear about it. Or I had this old school Skavis corner me once talking about 'hunts' like she was the protagonist in off-off brand National Geographic with nary a glimmer of self-awareness in in her dull, dead eyes. I wanted to shake her so bad and scream at her 'we are the White Court not the Black!' But no I had to sit there like a good little poppet and listen to her talk about how children's emotions are pure and that makes them the best. I couldn't look at a kindergarten for months."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stir up bad memories." you are not sure what else to say. Yesterday was nasty but not nearly as bad as what she is talking about.
"Who else am I going to talk about this shit with?" Isabela snorts. "Even if I had a lot of friends my age in the Families, which for the record I don't since I hang out Leinth and that makes me 'crazy' all they want to talk about is the First Kill, the ones that haven't done it yet are pestering me about how it feels and the ones who have are jealous about how controlled I am."
"I could maybe do something about that," you start, though where in the day you would even fit that you do not know.
Isabela is feeling particularly perceptive today because she shoots back: "Great and Mighty Overlady, Molly, I know you are Catholic and all, but maybe spare those good works until after you kill the bat-monster from Conan times."
"Conan times?" you laugh.
"Duchess A is prehistoric and come on, nine foot tall bat-monster that can squeeze itself in the form of a beautiful woman Tell me that doesn't sound like something Conan would fight? Probably just in his loincloth because he was planning to bang her."
The response does not help with getting the giggles under control, but you finally manage: "Isn't that standard Conan attire?"
"Not really," she says with the confidence of a nerd in her area of expertise, which to say the tone you use when talking Trek. "Howard did not really go into detail about his appearance often, but there are plenty of times when he makes it clear that Conan puts on his armor like a sensible warrior if he has the option. The comics almost always put him in a loincloth or near enough to one, probably because that is what the original pulp covers did." She drops her voice into a whisper. "Honestly I think a significant number of book and comics sales back in the day was because he was the best eye candy on offer if you were into guys."
The image of prim ladies in large hats sneaking pulp fiction into their voluminous handbags is a surprisingly effective scrubbing away lingering skinwalker induced ick. It occurs to you then that there is a certain place with not-quite-saurian behemoths Isabela could visit and when she gets bored of that there are five whole mega-cities to visit and stay in. But should you? As much fun as she would have what should you tell your subjects on this side of the veil about your inner world? Once they have been there they would be a target for anyone who wants to find out about the Fivefold Courts of Fate. On the third hand how could you deny them the very thing the world was named for... sanctuary?
Who do you tell about your inner world?
[] Thomas
[] Isabela
[] All the Jade Dogs
[] Write in
OOC: So I was going to make this the update in which you got to the station, but then Isabela rolled very well for the talk and I figured the vote flowed naturally here.
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