Freedom's Price
24th of December 2006 A.D.
"Take the wheel for a minute, Rider. Need to call Dad" you say as you fumble out your phone, Clippy already dialing unprompted. The phone rings once, then connects."Dad? Oh, hey Mom. Yeah, in the car now. Listen, I'm bringing Harry and a guest who needs to talk to Dad about guidance."
Your eyes meet Lash's in the mirror before continuing. She sits still as a graven image, trying to control her breathing, trying to look calm and collected, anything at all beside the raging storm of terror and resentment you see reflected in them. 'I'm sorry,' you mouth and you do not know what you are apologizing for, noticing what she is feeling, the pain of hell whose memory she will have to bear ever after, bringing her to this crossroad at all?
"Someone in his line of work,its a little complicated," you add into the phone, already armed with reassurances, but most of your attention is on Lash as she smiles, shakes her head. 'That's on me,' she answers in like manner.
Harry might not have gotten the byplay, but he's no fool. "You don't
have to go," he whispers back to her.
"That is very sweet of you Harry, but you cannot cure cancer with sugar pills."
"Cancer?" he asks, appropriately horrified.
"This body is very very good, I would know, biologically immortal in fact, but just because something cannot wear out does not mean it cannot be destroyed. My death is a statistical certainty. When considering all those who are likely to have an
unwholesome interest in me those statistics look particularly poor."
His posture straightens, a steely glint behind his eye, It's like someone had lit up Harry's personal bat signal. Under other circumstances you might have resented her more for it but the point is fairly made, no matter how tactically she deployed it.
The rest of the ride is taken up by planning how you are going to present what just happened tonight.
***
The house is ringed with lights and snowmen guard the way, their noses cucumbers and leeks as well as the more traditional carrots, some wear scarves and some wear hats and one wears a bright pink baseball cap that clashes unspeakably with the orange nose and orange gloves at the end of its stick arms.
You go Hope, follow your artistic vision, you think, a smile creeping over your face.
At that exact moment Lash flinches and stops dead on the path and rattles out:
"[I request/require access to equalize information/common terms within the Keystone.]"
There is no response that you can hear, Lash looks unsettled but not displeased.
"Be welcome," you say, unlatching the door.
Truth be told you had half expected to see Uriel's unassuming guise, or some other stranger already here. After all it took five hours to incarnate Lash, but no, there is dad dressed in a red and gold sweater and his work pants still, and there is mom in a faintly floral blue house dress, all the more visible against the backdrop of the tree, holding that drinks coaster like she is about to rip it in two.
Essence burns like fire in your veins and in its crackling insight from afar yet before you can make use of it Dad speaks up: "Molly, Harry Ms...?"
Lost 3 Essence -> Now at 11/15 (Empathy; Etiquette and Occult Excellencies)
"Tiffany will do," she answers with the name you had given to her at your first meeting.
"Tiffany then," dad nods gravely as he continues: "I have a message for you, one I received by a most unusual means from a messenger unaccustomed to the task: The words you have spoken, they have been heard, the craft of your becoming it was without flaw, words invite actions, truths here spoken make for lies elsewhere."
I did it, she's free. A heady wave of relief
, joy and pride in craftsmanship washes over you at the first of those words, but as the rest sink in you sympathize with the frustration that darkens Lash's face. Heaven will not explain further least it free the hand of Hell.
"How am I meant to choose when I do not know the rules?" The words are near a whisper, but so filled with pain and spite Harry flinches back a little and Mom's eyes narrow.
"The rules are you are free," you answer, thinking quickly. "The more you know, no, the more you are
told the less free you would become, that is
why the other side would get a move, it would be Heaven breaking its own rules, but dad didn't say
no answer will be given, he said that there will be consequences. That choice too is yours."
Lash puts her hands on the table and mutters almost mechanically to herself: "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this..." She looks up at you and just says. "I hate them more, I hate Her more.
Fuck Her getting something out of this."
"There are other paths to inquire, I'll help," you offer,
not as impulsively as it seems. The things Lash is wondering at, the fundamental laws of which the universe is made, where souls and death and fate fit are things you have been wondering at more and more as you delve deeper into your magic.
"
What is going on?" Mom asks glaring at poor Harry of course.
"I have some idea, but I don't want to hazard guesses," Dad looks between the three of you, clearly hoping someone was going to explain even if he was not going to demand it.
What do you do?
[] Let Lash explain
[] Let Harry explain (Willpower DC 7 to allow)
[] Explain yourself
-[] Write in
OOC: So yeah Molly asked the brave and entirely sensible question of 'What if a demon worked like a god and like a human at the same time?' and Heaven and Hell seem to have settled on on 'fine, no one touch without penalty'. Good thing your rolls were decent or a penalty would have been incurred.