The Cost of Broken Chains
21st of February 2007 A.D.
"I can break the curse," the words don't seem to land, how could they after all? To members of the Fellowship it's an impossibility, one that stands at the core of their long struggle against the monsters that made them as they are. "Cure the infection."
"That's not funny," Susan snaps, or starts to at least.
Whatever else she might have said is lost when Martin asks instead: "What's it cost?"
"One hour of my time in a safe secluded location. It's going to be a lot less
quiet than I am right now."
"Seriously you're just going to believe that, no verification, no nothing.?" Susan asks looking like someone had cut her off at the knees for all she's sitting down.
"
Yes. You've read the same dossier I have." Martin's voice has a peculiar serenity to it that almost reminds you of Brother Divsimar. Hmm... maybe not a bad comparison after all. Stoically ignoring the part of your brain that's wondering if the Red Court Half Bloods can learn magical martial arts and if so how easily you quirks an eyebrow at the operative: "Dossier?"
"You left an impression in Mexico City and in Vegas, especially in Vegas. The Fellowship tried to muscle in there in the 40s when it became clear the Dragon no longer had the direct backing of the Red King. It did
not go well."
His tone leaves you wincing in sympathy, though it also tells you something about Martin, he's at least old enough to have been around and involved back when. Realistically that would make him the same age as Gorfel or old man Matthews if not so old that he would perish as soon as the demon is removed. Lash's words are a warning bell in your memory, though one you leave aside for now.
"A positive impression one hopes," you offer with a smile.
"Yes." He does not look uncomfortable, Martin's expression is almost studiously neutral and yet somehow manages to communicate that this is the limit of what he's going to share about internal Fellowship documents. Of course you could just ask, power pointed at either him or Susan, or heck at anything of the Fellowship, but curiosity alone isn't enough of a reason, not when this conversation is still going.
"Wait a damn minute I feel like I'm missing half the conversation, what does being able to brow up an old Red baron in Vegas have to do with removing..." She can't quite get the full sentence out.
"Remember Sao Paulo last year, this is not a war of armies, the armies are just pawns on the board, this is a war of
powers. Anyone able to remove the Dragon that quickly with that little collateral has to be a power, one that's new to the game. Should it be expected that she have a means to remove the Blood? No. Is it reasonable to take her word when she says she does out of the blue unprompted? Yes, on the balance. There is no reason I can see for her to lie or for Dresden not to deny it if she were."
"So what's the price?" Susan asks the question in a tone much different from her companion.
"One hour of my time in a safe secluded location," you repeat deliberately. "I do not
like people being cursed by cannibalistic monsters pretending to be gods."
"So you won't have to stay away from Maggie anymore," Harry says, it doesn't slip out, it's not an accident. It's a very deliberate choice, like stepping out from cover under fire.
There's a crack as you look down to see Susan had splintered the table, the faint lines of arcane tattoos start to show around her eyes. That's certainly
a way to bring it up.
"How do you know that... how do you know?"
"Oh, same way I know most things, I got into deep trouble, then got a lucky break to get out," Harry proffers a disarming smile. "Now you can too."
"You're not angry?"
Harry sighs, putting his head in one hand, the posture somehow making him seem both larger and more fragile. "I'm not
happy, but I get it. I'm a dangerous guy to know, I remember telling you that a time or ten, I'm an even more dangerous guy to be a dad. But here I am and here you are. We've got to make it work now. It's not about how I feel."
One of the less used aspects of sharpening your senses like you had was being able to read not just faces, but lips which is how you now read Tiffany: '
Now she wishes they were still fucking.'
You feign kicking her under the table.
"That offer of yours," Martin interrupts, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. "How far does it go?"
Ah and there's the trouble, one hour for the rite itself, two hours and a quarter to get the Essence back. About eight people a day if you do nothing else is your limit. So how much is it really worth for people who aren's Susan Rodriguez?
[] Still free, it will just take a while
[] The Fellowship has skills, knowledge, you could do with the help while setting up your operations on Earth
[] Write in
OOC: If Harry seemed unusually socially adroit here well... he rolled *see below*. 
