To hide the full scope of her divination powers. She lied about the letter being present in some form for that very reason.
Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
- Crossover Fantasy
To hide the full scope of her divination powers. She lied about the letter being present in some form for that very reason.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Yes, Detective Murphy 's proven very useful once and if it comes down to it protecting her isn't that much different from protecting Harry
She wants to come, and I think we've already made clear the danger of this sort of thing. I see no compelling reason to deny her this, especially since she is very good at the skills we are most lacking in.
She wants to come, and I think we've already made clear the danger of this sort of thing. I see no compelling reason to deny her this, especially since she is very good at the skills we are most lacking in.
- Location
- portugal
[X] Yes, Detective Murphy 's proven very useful once and if it comes down to it protecting her isn't that much different from protecting Harry
[X] Yes, Detective Murphy 's proven very useful once and if it comes down to it protecting her isn't that much different from protecting Harry
Demonreach Warden Murphy? I am down for that. Actually, can we make it work? @DragonParadox do you need to be a wizard to be Demonreach's Warden? I realize that this is a somewhat (well, near completely) OOC question, but still. Can Karrin Murphy in principle become Warden of Demonreach? Either as she is now, or with her Inner Devils Unchained?
Demonreach Warden Murphy? I am down for that. Actually, can we make it work? @DragonParadox do you need to be a wizard to be Demonreach's Warden? I realize that this is a somewhat (well, near completely) OOC question, but still. Can Karrin Murphy in principle become Warden of Demonreach? Either as she is now, or with her Inner Devils Unchained?
Molly still has no idea what that is IC so that would be a spoiler to answer.
Well it is going to be rather dangerous and she has 7 HL and a soak that can only take bashing, the technical term is 'mortal'.
BoredMan
Maintaining the Agenda is our top priority
- Location
- Right Where I Am
She's also old and experienced enough to make the choice to risk danger. If she still wants to come, then I say that we let her.
Fixed, thanks again.
Was Murphy never told about Harry picking up Lasciel's coin, that she wonders where it went?
She was not. Michael saw him and Molly met her in his soul, that is the full list of those who knew about the Coin.
- Location
- Estonia
[X] Yes, Detective Murphy 's proven very useful once and if it comes down to it protecting her isn't that much different from protecting Harry
We really want to keep Murphy as a close ally, and I can just imagine her reaction to being told "no" without a specific excuse tailored to the situation. "You are just a fragile mortal in general" is not going to cut it.
We really want to keep Murphy as a close ally, and I can just imagine her reaction to being told "no" without a specific excuse tailored to the situation. "You are just a fragile mortal in general" is not going to cut it.
True, but there's a line to walk here for us. Right now she's a Library asset more than our associate. If she sees something we have to assume they'll hear about it sooner or later.
Every example we've seen in canon has been a strong wizard. That doesn't prove they're the only ones who can do the job but it does imply some things.
Harry is a meathead, but he can still do stuff like commune with spirits and understanding the supernatural significantly better than a mundane person could. It wouldn't surprise me if even in the case that Demonreach can bind to a baseline it wouldn't want to because talking to them, let alone teaching them anything useful, is a pain in the ass.
Demonreach: "Just contort your soul into a fractal star and channel some elemental fire already. You're turning on the break room coffee machine not restraining a demon lord, we've got stuff to do today"
COMMENTARY
This is the day before Valentine's Day 2007
IIRC, Thomas' birthday is on the 14th of February; it was a plot point once in the short story "Its My Birthday, Too".
Also, tomorrow, Constance Bushnell aka "Drusilla", who went missing for a year and became a Black Court Master vampire in that time, is about to wander back into town tomorrow and try to murder the entire LARP group that she used to play with at a closed mall.
Assuming that station of canon doesnt change, she did kill two security guards, and did come close to killing Harry, who had come there with Molly to give Thomas a birthday present.
EDIT
Correction.
Constance shows up on Valentine's Day 2008.
NOT 2007.
===
Loling at the "If they can survive an airstrike, no written notes" business.
Surprisingly reasonable too; those are the kinds of people who can walk through your entire operation and trash it.
===
Going to point out that Demonreach can canonically stop Anduriel from spying on it. The only other such location in Chicago is the Carpenter household, which is warded by angels.
I doubt that any Denarian scrying focus would work.
Of course, Molly does not know that IC.
===
Question: Does she have need to know about the particulars of Demonreach? Does Molly want mortal witnesses to what she will do there? Because Im currently looking at this, and my inclination is that she doesnt need to be there, except if this is a situation where we need an extra set of eyes.
I dont have a strong opinion about it, mind.
But Ivy's advice here about not over-sharing seems pertinent in this instance.
1) Yes, you do need to be a wizard to be Warden of Demonreach.
Magic is necessary to seal the inmates, magic is necessary to defeat them in the first place.
And not just any magic, you need to be a pretty brawny ass wizard, not just a changeling or some other sort of scion.
Even Exalting Murphy right now wouldnt make her eligible, because she wouldnt be a wizard.
Naagloshii qualify as minimum-security inmates in this place, and even strong wizards balk at facing those things.
Consider what the actual serious inmates are like.
2)No, she would not.
Sharkface/He Who Walks Beside would literally eat her alive. I mean, literally eat her out and wear her skin.
Lord Raith had zero issues punking her in a 1v1 in Blood Rites and he wasnt even using magic.
Lord Raith led us into the cave he called the Deeps, and the Bodyguard Barbie kept her gun on me while simultaneously remaining well out of easy reach. She wasn't any Trixie Vixen anyway. If I jumped her, she'd shoot me, and that would be that. Not that I could have done much jumping, what with the leg irons and all. I had trouble just shuffling along while ducking my head low enough to keep from bumping into rocky protrusions from the cave's roof.
"Murph?" I said. "How are you doing?"
"I'm feeling a little repressed," she responded. There was tight pain in her voice. "I'm fulfilling this hostage stereotype, and it's pissing me off."
"That's good," Raith said. He still had her by the neck, with the knife he held actually pressed a tiny bit into the wound he'd already given. "Defiance adds a great deal of enjoyment to feeding, Ms. Murphy." He put a contemptuous emphasis on the honorific. "It is, after all, a great deal more pleasurable to conquer than to rule. And defiant women can be conquered again and again before they break."
I ignored Raith. "How's your side?"
Murphy shot a glare over her shoulder at her captor. "A little prick like this? It's nothing."
In answer, Raith threw Murphy against the wall. She caught herself and turned, her hand blurring in a short, vicious strike.
Raith wasn't human. He caught her hand without so much as looking at it. He drove her hand and wrist back against the wall, and brought the bloodied tip of his knife sharply up under her chin. Her lip twisted into a defiant snarl and her knee lashed up as she kicked. Raith blocked it with a sweep of his thigh and pressed in close to her, all sinuous, serpentine speed and strength, until he was pressed to her front, his face to hers, raven-black hair mingling with her dark gold.
"Warrior women are all the same," Raith said, his eyes on Murphy's. His voice was low, slow, lilting. "You all know your way around struggling with other bodies. But you know little about the needs of your own."
Murphy stared at him, shoulders twitching, and her lips slowly parted.
"It's bound into you," Raith whispered. "Deeper than muscle and bone. The need. The only way to escape the blackness of death. You cannot deny it. Cannot escape it. In joy, in despair, in darkness, in pain, mortalkind still feels desire." His hand slid down from her wrist, his fingertips lightly brushing the thick veins. A soft sound escaped from Murphy's throat.
Raith smiled. "There. You already feel yourself weakening. I've taken thousands like you, lovely child. Taken them and broken them. There was nothing they could do. There is nothing you can do. You were made to feel desire. I was made to use it against you. It is the natural cycle. Life and death. Mating and death. Predator and prey."
Raith leaned closer with each word, and brushed his lips against Murphy's throat as he spoke. "Born mortal. Born weak. And easily taken."
Murphy's eyes went wide. Her body arched in shock. She let out a low, sobbing sound, as she tried and failed to hold back her voice.
Raith drew his head slowly back, smiling down at Murphy. "And that's only a taste, child. When you know what it is to be truly taken later this night, you will understand that your life ended the moment I wanted you." His hand moved, sudden and hard, digging his thumb against the wound in her ribs. Her face went white, and another, similar cry escaped her. She crumpled, and Raith let her fall to the ground. He stood over her for a moment, and then said, "We'll have days, little one. Weeks. You can spend them in agony or in bliss. The important thing to realize is that I'll be the one who decides which. You are no longer in command of your body. Nor your mind. You no longer have a choice in the matter."
Murphy gathered herself together and managed to lift her eyes again. They were defiant, and blurred with tears, but I could see the terror in them as well-and a sort of sickened, hideous desire. "You're a liar," she whispered. "I am my own."
Raith said, quietly, "I can always tell when a woman feels desire, Ms. Murphy. I can feel yours. Part of you is so tired of being disciplined. Tired of being afraid. Tired of denying yourself for the good of others." He knelt down, and Murphy's eyes shied away from his. "That part of you is what wanted to feel the pleasure I just gave. And it is that part of you that will grow as it feels more. The defiant young woman is already dead. She is simply too afraid to admit it."
He seized her hair and started dragging her, careless and hard. I saw her face for a second, confusion and fear and anger warring for control of her expression. But I knew she'd taken a wound far more grievous than any physical injury I'd seen her sustain. Raith had forced her to feel something, and there had been nothing she could do to stop him. She'd done her best to tear into him, and he had slapped her down like a child. It wasn't Murphy's fault that she'd lost that fight. It wasn't her fault that he'd forced sensation upon her. I mean, hell, he was the lord of the freaking nation of sexual predators, and even weakened and hampered by my mother's curse, he had been able to take apart Murphy's psychic and emotional defenses.
If he got the full measure of his powers back, what he would do to Murphy in retaliation for what my mother had done to him would be worse than death.
The damnedest thing was that there wasn't much I could do about it. Not because I was chained up, held at gunpoint, and probably going to die-though I had to admit, that might make things somewhat difficult-but because this wasn't a fight that someone else could win for Murphy. The real battle was inside of her-her strength of will against her own well-founded fears. Even if I did ride in on a white horse to save her, it would mean only that she would be forced to question her own strength and integrity thereafter, and that would be nothing more than a slow death of her self-reliance and strength of will.
It was something I could not save her from.
And I had asked her to face it.
Raith hauled on her hair as if it had been a dog's lead.
Murphy didn't fight back.
I clenched my hands into impotent fists. Murphy was in very real danger of dying that night, even if she kept on breathing and her heart kept on beating. But she would have to be the one to save herself.
The best thing I could do was nothing. The best thing I could say was nothing. I had some power, but it couldn't help Murphy now.
Hell's bells, irony blows.
"Murph?" I said. "How are you doing?"
"I'm feeling a little repressed," she responded. There was tight pain in her voice. "I'm fulfilling this hostage stereotype, and it's pissing me off."
"That's good," Raith said. He still had her by the neck, with the knife he held actually pressed a tiny bit into the wound he'd already given. "Defiance adds a great deal of enjoyment to feeding, Ms. Murphy." He put a contemptuous emphasis on the honorific. "It is, after all, a great deal more pleasurable to conquer than to rule. And defiant women can be conquered again and again before they break."
I ignored Raith. "How's your side?"
Murphy shot a glare over her shoulder at her captor. "A little prick like this? It's nothing."
In answer, Raith threw Murphy against the wall. She caught herself and turned, her hand blurring in a short, vicious strike.
Raith wasn't human. He caught her hand without so much as looking at it. He drove her hand and wrist back against the wall, and brought the bloodied tip of his knife sharply up under her chin. Her lip twisted into a defiant snarl and her knee lashed up as she kicked. Raith blocked it with a sweep of his thigh and pressed in close to her, all sinuous, serpentine speed and strength, until he was pressed to her front, his face to hers, raven-black hair mingling with her dark gold.
"Warrior women are all the same," Raith said, his eyes on Murphy's. His voice was low, slow, lilting. "You all know your way around struggling with other bodies. But you know little about the needs of your own."
Murphy stared at him, shoulders twitching, and her lips slowly parted.
"It's bound into you," Raith whispered. "Deeper than muscle and bone. The need. The only way to escape the blackness of death. You cannot deny it. Cannot escape it. In joy, in despair, in darkness, in pain, mortalkind still feels desire." His hand slid down from her wrist, his fingertips lightly brushing the thick veins. A soft sound escaped from Murphy's throat.
Raith smiled. "There. You already feel yourself weakening. I've taken thousands like you, lovely child. Taken them and broken them. There was nothing they could do. There is nothing you can do. You were made to feel desire. I was made to use it against you. It is the natural cycle. Life and death. Mating and death. Predator and prey."
Raith leaned closer with each word, and brushed his lips against Murphy's throat as he spoke. "Born mortal. Born weak. And easily taken."
Murphy's eyes went wide. Her body arched in shock. She let out a low, sobbing sound, as she tried and failed to hold back her voice.
Raith drew his head slowly back, smiling down at Murphy. "And that's only a taste, child. When you know what it is to be truly taken later this night, you will understand that your life ended the moment I wanted you." His hand moved, sudden and hard, digging his thumb against the wound in her ribs. Her face went white, and another, similar cry escaped her. She crumpled, and Raith let her fall to the ground. He stood over her for a moment, and then said, "We'll have days, little one. Weeks. You can spend them in agony or in bliss. The important thing to realize is that I'll be the one who decides which. You are no longer in command of your body. Nor your mind. You no longer have a choice in the matter."
Murphy gathered herself together and managed to lift her eyes again. They were defiant, and blurred with tears, but I could see the terror in them as well-and a sort of sickened, hideous desire. "You're a liar," she whispered. "I am my own."
Raith said, quietly, "I can always tell when a woman feels desire, Ms. Murphy. I can feel yours. Part of you is so tired of being disciplined. Tired of being afraid. Tired of denying yourself for the good of others." He knelt down, and Murphy's eyes shied away from his. "That part of you is what wanted to feel the pleasure I just gave. And it is that part of you that will grow as it feels more. The defiant young woman is already dead. She is simply too afraid to admit it."
He seized her hair and started dragging her, careless and hard. I saw her face for a second, confusion and fear and anger warring for control of her expression. But I knew she'd taken a wound far more grievous than any physical injury I'd seen her sustain. Raith had forced her to feel something, and there had been nothing she could do to stop him. She'd done her best to tear into him, and he had slapped her down like a child. It wasn't Murphy's fault that she'd lost that fight. It wasn't her fault that he'd forced sensation upon her. I mean, hell, he was the lord of the freaking nation of sexual predators, and even weakened and hampered by my mother's curse, he had been able to take apart Murphy's psychic and emotional defenses.
If he got the full measure of his powers back, what he would do to Murphy in retaliation for what my mother had done to him would be worse than death.
The damnedest thing was that there wasn't much I could do about it. Not because I was chained up, held at gunpoint, and probably going to die-though I had to admit, that might make things somewhat difficult-but because this wasn't a fight that someone else could win for Murphy. The real battle was inside of her-her strength of will against her own well-founded fears. Even if I did ride in on a white horse to save her, it would mean only that she would be forced to question her own strength and integrity thereafter, and that would be nothing more than a slow death of her self-reliance and strength of will.
It was something I could not save her from.
And I had asked her to face it.
Raith hauled on her hair as if it had been a dog's lead.
Murphy didn't fight back.
I clenched my hands into impotent fists. Murphy was in very real danger of dying that night, even if she kept on breathing and her heart kept on beating. But she would have to be the one to save herself.
The best thing I could do was nothing. The best thing I could say was nothing. I had some power, but it couldn't help Murphy now.
Hell's bells, irony blows.
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VOTE
[X] No, there are some places regular humans, no matter how impressive shouldn't go
I think the Archive's advice about oversharing might apply here.
Especially if we end up talking to Demonreach about things we want to limit the spread of information about.
Just my opinion.
EDIT
I dont feel strongly about this vote, at the moment, mind.
Im confident OOC that Demonreach has its own information control protocols; its one of only two places in the Chicago area that can keep Anduriel from scrying/spying.
But it seems to me that Murphy's argument for coming along is just curiosity, not need to know.
And Murphy isnt inside the innermost circle of Molly's confidence.
[X] No, there are some places regular humans, no matter how impressive shouldn't go
I think the Archive's advice about oversharing might apply here.
Especially if we end up talking to Demonreach about things we want to limit the spread of information about.
Just my opinion.
EDIT
I dont feel strongly about this vote, at the moment, mind.
Im confident OOC that Demonreach has its own information control protocols; its one of only two places in the Chicago area that can keep Anduriel from scrying/spying.
But it seems to me that Murphy's argument for coming along is just curiosity, not need to know.
And Murphy isnt inside the innermost circle of Molly's confidence.
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Good night guys.
Yes, she was in canon.
Much later though; it was a subsequent book after White Night, and Harry didnt go into details.
Not accurate.
Harry told Billy and Georgia about her during Dead Beat. Showed them the demon mark.
He also told Mavra, at the end of Dead Beat, that there was a fallen angel tripping over herself to give him more power.
Quintus Cassius explicitly tortured him for the Coin in Dead Beat. He's dead now, but he could have told others.
Father Forthill knows as well, because he was the person that Harry took Lasciel's Coin to after Lash died.
Bob the Skull knows, of course.
Then there's Nicodemus Archleone, who actually gave him the Coin.
Also in canon, he told Murphy obliquely about Lash dying inside his head in a later book.
No details though.
EDIT
That means in this AU, those who currently know/knew as of February 2007 are:
Michael
Molly
Bob The Skull
Billy and Georgia of the Alphas
Father Forthill
Quintus Cassius(deceased)
Nicodemus Archleone
Mavra (probably)
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