- Pronouns
- They/Them
Seven hours left.
The Lost Files (C:TL/Dresden Files) (CK2-ish)
- Thread starter The Laurent
- Start date
- Location
- Tarn-Vedra
[X] Hey you!: Armoring himself against supernatural fear and surrounding himself in the sorrow of Winter itself, and calling upon his stone-hard will, he could sneak up on them and begin the fight up close and personal. Knock out the normal humans by surprise and force, and give his backup time to arrive and hopefully threaten St. Martin enough that he'd flee.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closes in two hours.
Turn 5--Feast of the Damned, Part 3
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 5--The Feast of the Damned, Part 3
[X] Hey you!: Armoring himself against supernatural fear and surrounding himself in the sorrow of Winter itself, and calling upon his stone-hard will, he could sneak up on them and begin the fight up close and personal. Knock out the normal humans by surprise and force, and give his backup time to arrive and hopefully threaten St. Martin enough that he'd flee.
Smoke existed to swallow people up, the burnt remains of something that once was. So of course it slipped around him, even if there was a moment of doubt and difficulty. Then the smoke slid over him and he surged forward as quietly as possible, each step careful, but also weighted with the understanding that there wasn't time.
And he needed to not be afraid. And so he thought about it. His brother had died while he was in Arcadia, been shot and died and he hadn't been there. Time and again, he had failed, again and again.
Life was a series of trials and torments that ended in death. He was fighting with futile strength to continue living, but to live was to embrace misery.
To use this contract, even more than that. It was to revel in misery, to accept it so strongly that some practitioners of the Sorrow-Frozen Heart stopped being able to care about the pain of others. Not just when using it, but ever. Because what pain, what suffering, could outstrip their own all-encompassing misery. He shuddered slightly, those thoughts stripping themselves away, replaced by doubts, by self-loathing.
He was a damned murderer, and if there was a hell he'd go to it when he died, and more than that, he deserved it. He whipped himself in shame and self-loathing and pity, even as he approached. Compared to that, what could be more terrible than himself?
St. Martin used fear, but there was nothing more terrifying than a mirror that looked into a man's soul.
When he was using the Contract, his thoughts contracted like that, bunched down into a sort of cold, brutal armor, a porcupine whose spines went inward, not outward.
It was horrible, and it wasn't a way to live, but then it wasn't about living, it was about dying.
And then on top of that he added fury. He was going to fight against four on one odds because he was like stone. He was angry and powerful, he was horrible and disgusting. He loathed himself and that loathing turned to rage turned to power, and he felt his muscles almost literally swell with strength and power, and before he even made the blow, he knew he'd have to hold it back or he'd kill someone.
Yet, there was only so much he wanted to hold back. King Stoneguts cocked back his fist and, in one smooth, effortless motion, he decked the woman with the handgun, sending her almost flying to the ground with a sickening crunch.
St. Martin was fast, and he shot in the direction that Stoneguts had been standing, but he'd already moved. He'd deserve it, being shot and dying, for what he'd done.
But not by someone like St. Martin. The third girl, the unarmed one who looked like she was in her late twenties, managed to brush his shoulder by pure accident, and he grunted slightly, giving away his position as the girl with the axe turned from the door, which seemed to almost straighten up the moment she turned, as if it were alive.
But he had no mercy for the woman, and more than that, he had no time for her. He felt the pain well up inside him, and at that moment she wasn't a person. She was an obstacle, a thing that was in his way. He didn't hesitate and slamming her out of the way with far more brutality than he normally displayed, but without passion, let alone compassion. She crumpled in a heap, though she still looked alive, though in the moment that didn't seem to matter that much.
There was a loud noise, a huge bang, and a bullet impacted into the back of his armor, sending him stumbling forward for a moment as he whipped around, still invisible but pretty obvious in location from the sounds as he surged forward, one enemy down, but three still capable of fighting back, stuck in the middle of a brutal fight.
He pulled on that pain, that grief and despair, and made an armor out of it as he turned, and three things happened at once.
First, there was another bang, and a shot hit him dead on, piercing partially through the armor and yet doing no damage, absorbed. What was pain compared to the cold feeling in his limbs, his body asked itself. Second, a dart hit the neck of the woman with a handgun, and his two allies surged forward.
And third, St. Martin, seeing what was happening, began to swear. He turned, but Stoneguts was faster, and he didn't care. Kill the man or not, it didn't matter in the moment as he shoved his elbow hard against St. Martin's back as he tried to run. There was a loud cracking sound, and St. Martin fell down the stairs, hitting the wall with enough force to leave indentations, and then trying to stand and finding he could only crawl.
He fired another shot, wildly, blindly, and it hit nobody, though it forced King Stoneguts to back off just a step as St. Martin tumbled down the stairs, in full retreat, as the second agent, a stocky man, tackled the last of the women.
King Stoneguts was panting slightly as he came to, aware that he'd pushed a little hard, and more than that, been too sparing in using his power, too willing to try not to go over the limit. He'd done horribly, and if he hadn't been as fast to grasp at the power of Sorrow, he might be laying on the ground now, dazed and vulnerable. St. Martin was a rather better shot than expected.
But he wasn't, and when he slipped out of the Contract in a moment of emotion to say, "I am sorry that I have to do that. It was quite brutal, but necessary." He was saying it to the people on the ground, but then he turned to where the door was. It seemed less bashed in then it had before, and perhaps it was.
There was something that had kept it standing even as someone took an axe to it. He pushed the woman aside, glad that both of the men working with him were, well, men.
His suspicion was that there was a reason that the Fiddler was using women, and that the only man there was an outside force who was wise enough to run when the time came, to go and lick his rather extensive wounds that might in fact include several shattered bones in his back.
He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" the woman on the other side asked, sounding nervous even from a distance. The music was still continuing, and he turned to the other two and said, distractedly, "Search for the noise. Don't split up, retreat if anything happens."
Then he turned back to the door.
Who is this?
[] "Cora sent me."
[] "I am friend of Cora."
[] Explain that he is the Winter Monarch in Marble Arch.
[] Write-in.
Topics to discuss (Choose 3)
[] St. Martin's presence.
[] The Fiddler and his plans.
[] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
[] The door, or exactly how it stood up so well. (Occult curiosity)
[] What to do with the three women.
[] "May I please come in?"
[] The White Council, just what they are and so on...and whether they'll react to this act in any way?
[] Write-in.
*****
*****
A/N: Whew, uh, so. I'm dedicated to keeping this going, though my mood and free time, as the wait can show, has been very inconsistent for this.
[X] Hey you!: Armoring himself against supernatural fear and surrounding himself in the sorrow of Winter itself, and calling upon his stone-hard will, he could sneak up on them and begin the fight up close and personal. Knock out the normal humans by surprise and force, and give his backup time to arrive and hopefully threaten St. Martin enough that he'd flee.
Smoke existed to swallow people up, the burnt remains of something that once was. So of course it slipped around him, even if there was a moment of doubt and difficulty. Then the smoke slid over him and he surged forward as quietly as possible, each step careful, but also weighted with the understanding that there wasn't time.
And he needed to not be afraid. And so he thought about it. His brother had died while he was in Arcadia, been shot and died and he hadn't been there. Time and again, he had failed, again and again.
Life was a series of trials and torments that ended in death. He was fighting with futile strength to continue living, but to live was to embrace misery.
To use this contract, even more than that. It was to revel in misery, to accept it so strongly that some practitioners of the Sorrow-Frozen Heart stopped being able to care about the pain of others. Not just when using it, but ever. Because what pain, what suffering, could outstrip their own all-encompassing misery. He shuddered slightly, those thoughts stripping themselves away, replaced by doubts, by self-loathing.
He was a damned murderer, and if there was a hell he'd go to it when he died, and more than that, he deserved it. He whipped himself in shame and self-loathing and pity, even as he approached. Compared to that, what could be more terrible than himself?
St. Martin used fear, but there was nothing more terrifying than a mirror that looked into a man's soul.
When he was using the Contract, his thoughts contracted like that, bunched down into a sort of cold, brutal armor, a porcupine whose spines went inward, not outward.
It was horrible, and it wasn't a way to live, but then it wasn't about living, it was about dying.
And then on top of that he added fury. He was going to fight against four on one odds because he was like stone. He was angry and powerful, he was horrible and disgusting. He loathed himself and that loathing turned to rage turned to power, and he felt his muscles almost literally swell with strength and power, and before he even made the blow, he knew he'd have to hold it back or he'd kill someone.
Yet, there was only so much he wanted to hold back. King Stoneguts cocked back his fist and, in one smooth, effortless motion, he decked the woman with the handgun, sending her almost flying to the ground with a sickening crunch.
St. Martin was fast, and he shot in the direction that Stoneguts had been standing, but he'd already moved. He'd deserve it, being shot and dying, for what he'd done.
But not by someone like St. Martin. The third girl, the unarmed one who looked like she was in her late twenties, managed to brush his shoulder by pure accident, and he grunted slightly, giving away his position as the girl with the axe turned from the door, which seemed to almost straighten up the moment she turned, as if it were alive.
But he had no mercy for the woman, and more than that, he had no time for her. He felt the pain well up inside him, and at that moment she wasn't a person. She was an obstacle, a thing that was in his way. He didn't hesitate and slamming her out of the way with far more brutality than he normally displayed, but without passion, let alone compassion. She crumpled in a heap, though she still looked alive, though in the moment that didn't seem to matter that much.
There was a loud noise, a huge bang, and a bullet impacted into the back of his armor, sending him stumbling forward for a moment as he whipped around, still invisible but pretty obvious in location from the sounds as he surged forward, one enemy down, but three still capable of fighting back, stuck in the middle of a brutal fight.
He pulled on that pain, that grief and despair, and made an armor out of it as he turned, and three things happened at once.
First, there was another bang, and a shot hit him dead on, piercing partially through the armor and yet doing no damage, absorbed. What was pain compared to the cold feeling in his limbs, his body asked itself. Second, a dart hit the neck of the woman with a handgun, and his two allies surged forward.
And third, St. Martin, seeing what was happening, began to swear. He turned, but Stoneguts was faster, and he didn't care. Kill the man or not, it didn't matter in the moment as he shoved his elbow hard against St. Martin's back as he tried to run. There was a loud cracking sound, and St. Martin fell down the stairs, hitting the wall with enough force to leave indentations, and then trying to stand and finding he could only crawl.
He fired another shot, wildly, blindly, and it hit nobody, though it forced King Stoneguts to back off just a step as St. Martin tumbled down the stairs, in full retreat, as the second agent, a stocky man, tackled the last of the women.
King Stoneguts was panting slightly as he came to, aware that he'd pushed a little hard, and more than that, been too sparing in using his power, too willing to try not to go over the limit. He'd done horribly, and if he hadn't been as fast to grasp at the power of Sorrow, he might be laying on the ground now, dazed and vulnerable. St. Martin was a rather better shot than expected.
But he wasn't, and when he slipped out of the Contract in a moment of emotion to say, "I am sorry that I have to do that. It was quite brutal, but necessary." He was saying it to the people on the ground, but then he turned to where the door was. It seemed less bashed in then it had before, and perhaps it was.
There was something that had kept it standing even as someone took an axe to it. He pushed the woman aside, glad that both of the men working with him were, well, men.
His suspicion was that there was a reason that the Fiddler was using women, and that the only man there was an outside force who was wise enough to run when the time came, to go and lick his rather extensive wounds that might in fact include several shattered bones in his back.
He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" the woman on the other side asked, sounding nervous even from a distance. The music was still continuing, and he turned to the other two and said, distractedly, "Search for the noise. Don't split up, retreat if anything happens."
Then he turned back to the door.
Who is this?
[] "Cora sent me."
[] "I am friend of Cora."
[] Explain that he is the Winter Monarch in Marble Arch.
[] Write-in.
Topics to discuss (Choose 3)
[] St. Martin's presence.
[] The Fiddler and his plans.
[] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
[] The door, or exactly how it stood up so well. (Occult curiosity)
[] What to do with the three women.
[] "May I please come in?"
[] The White Council, just what they are and so on...and whether they'll react to this act in any way?
[] Write-in.
*****
Light-Shy: 10 dice, 9 again=1 success, which is all that's needed.
Willpower: 9/10
Glamour: 17/18
Sneak: Success
Fear Is Nothing: 12 dice, 8 again=4 successes, 1 off from super-success.
Gain -6 to all supernatural attempts at generating fear
Might of the Terrible Brute: 6 (Strength)+6 (Wyrd)-1 (Calm)=8 fucking successes
Catch activated
First Surprise Blow on…
Handgun Thrall!: 14 (New Effective Strength)+4 (Brawl)=18 dice, 8 again, defense doesn't apply to first strike=5 successes
Shot on the Wing (St. Martin): 8 dice, 9 again-3 (Invisible Man)-1 (Fast dodger)=Failure
Axe thrall turns, can't quite see him…
Fist thrall flails: 1 success, blocked by armor, takes 1 blashing.
10/11 Health
Remorseless Strike: 15 dice=3 successes
Glamour at: 15/18
Attack the Axe Thrall: 6 (Strength)+4 (Brawl)=10 dice-3 (Defense)=3 successes of damage, plus Wyrd.
Damage is 9/8...down.
Handgun Thrall Attacks: 4 dice-1 (Somewhat invisible)-1 (Close range and chaotic)=2 successes, armor converts both into bashing, though he's a little stunned, to say the least (Not mechanically, though).
8/11
Fist Thrall Swings: Chance dice=failure
St. Martin Shoots: 8 dice=4 successes...but!
Grief is Stronger than Death: 7 successes, so pool is now
7 (Undamaged), then once filled damage spills over. 6 damage done…
Reinforcements arrive.
Dart Gun Ally: 1 success, Handgun Thrall down.
Other ally: Approach and come up on the fist thrawl.
Remorseless Strike: 9 successes
Attack St. Martin: 10+3 (Willpower)-7 (Defense)=2 successes+6 Wyrd+Stun (Crit on Remorseless Strike)=8 damage
Knock out fist thrall, and that's fight.
Willpower: 9/10
Glamour: 17/18
Sneak: Success
Fear Is Nothing: 12 dice, 8 again=4 successes, 1 off from super-success.
Gain -6 to all supernatural attempts at generating fear
Might of the Terrible Brute: 6 (Strength)+6 (Wyrd)-1 (Calm)=8 fucking successes
Catch activated
First Surprise Blow on…
Handgun Thrall!: 14 (New Effective Strength)+4 (Brawl)=18 dice, 8 again, defense doesn't apply to first strike=5 successes
Shot on the Wing (St. Martin): 8 dice, 9 again-3 (Invisible Man)-1 (Fast dodger)=Failure
Axe thrall turns, can't quite see him…
Fist thrall flails: 1 success, blocked by armor, takes 1 blashing.
10/11 Health
Remorseless Strike: 15 dice=3 successes
Glamour at: 15/18
Attack the Axe Thrall: 6 (Strength)+4 (Brawl)=10 dice-3 (Defense)=3 successes of damage, plus Wyrd.
Damage is 9/8...down.
Handgun Thrall Attacks: 4 dice-1 (Somewhat invisible)-1 (Close range and chaotic)=2 successes, armor converts both into bashing, though he's a little stunned, to say the least (Not mechanically, though).
8/11
Fist Thrall Swings: Chance dice=failure
St. Martin Shoots: 8 dice=4 successes...but!
Grief is Stronger than Death: 7 successes, so pool is now
7 (Undamaged), then once filled damage spills over. 6 damage done…
Reinforcements arrive.
Dart Gun Ally: 1 success, Handgun Thrall down.
Other ally: Approach and come up on the fist thrawl.
Remorseless Strike: 9 successes
Attack St. Martin: 10+3 (Willpower)-7 (Defense)=2 successes+6 Wyrd+Stun (Crit on Remorseless Strike)=8 damage
Knock out fist thrall, and that's fight.
*****
A/N: Whew, uh, so. I'm dedicated to keeping this going, though my mood and free time, as the wait can show, has been very inconsistent for this.
DeepWaters
No one will be the wiser.
- Location
- Land of Spiders and Shipping Charts
[X] "Cora sent me."
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] What to do with the three women.
[X] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] What to do with the three women.
[X] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
- Location
- Virginia
[X] Plan: Friendly Neighborhood Winter Monarch
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Explain that he is the Winter Monarch in Marble Arch.
[X] "May I please come in?"
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] What to do with the three women.
Miscommunications are interesting and fun, right?
[X] "May I please come in?"
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] What to do with the three women.
Miscommunications are interesting and fun, right?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Though to note, explaining 'I'm the Winter Monarch' does include the implicit 'And Cora sent me' bit. It's just not what's being led off with.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The misunderstanding I'm going for is more being confused for a DF Fae potentially? Or them thinking that we're more associated with that system than we really are. Obfuscation serves our purposes, really.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Hrm, Sunday evening a decent time to shoot for closing the vote?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closes in 6 hours.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Any more votes?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closed, tally please.
- Location
- Daybreak
Winner is: "DeepWaters' Plan" with 4 votes out of 8.
Who sent you?
Topics to discuss (Choose 3)
Who sent you?
Topics to discuss (Choose 3)
Last edited:
DeepWaters
No one will be the wiser.
- Location
- Land of Spiders and Shipping Charts
... I had a plan?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
A brilliant plan. The best plan.
Better than all of the other plans.
Turn 5--The Feast of the Damned--Across A Closed Door
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Feast of the Damned--Across A Closed Door
[X] "Cora sent me."
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] St. Martin's presence.
[X] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
"Cora sent me," King Stoneguts said, quietly, trying to project authority and surety so that he needn't say more.
"Really? That's the line you're going to start out with?" Gabe asked, and even through the door, he could hear the intense skepticism. He'd made a wrong move here, and just as quietly he reconsidered what he was going to say.
"If I was not, would I have done all of this to chase off St. Martin the White Court vampire and these women who seem to have been in some way brainwashed? I'm standing here, why am I doing so rather than picking up that axe and violating your privacy?"
"It could be a trick, but you make a point. Bluntly, though," Gabe said, "And don't mess with the door, I like it. I spent a lot of time working on it."
"Magical, I assume?" Stoneguts asked, glancing over at the other agents, and then nodding at them.
They lifted up the women and Gabe asked, panicked, "What are they going to do?"
"Take them somewhere so they can wake up outside of the influence of what appears to be the Fiddler's power. Cora would probably have a guess as to why it only seems to work on women."
Which was certainly odd, and definitely a weakness. Of course, there were good odds it didn't work on all women automatically, or else he'd be rather more advanced in searching out power than he was, but if the Fiddler was limited to women, that did raise questions about how he had snared Jason.
A bigot might say something about gay men being basically women, but what it actually suggested was that Jason was important in some other way. Or did the Fiddler have a way to control men, but one that it merely preferred to use less than to control woman? Certainly there were people who would prioritize such a thing, or have thoughts in that direction.
Or was it for some other reason. Something to consider, and something that felt remarkably close to Talecrafting, which was neither of their specialties.
"Oh. So, you do know Cora?"
Stoneguts chuckled, "Yeah, I do. I work with her, now and again."
"Ah...I, well, I can open the door." She did, and Stoneguts took in Gabe. She was dressed in a robe, and the bracelets on her neck and the golden disc in her ear, as well as a few other odds and ends, seemed as if they might be some form of focus for her magic, or tools.
She looked up and down at him, staring a little.
"Either you need to come with me or go back inside, because the neighbors will likely call the police soon," Stoneguts said, "I am pleased to meet you, you may call me Stoneguts."
"Stoneguts…" Gabriella said, "I assume you're...like her?"
"Yes, I am. Would you happen to know why St. Martin was here?"
"He just told me to open up, but he stood back," Gabe said, "I think it was his way of looking uninvolved. I don't really know much about the White Court in this city, but everyone knows St. Martin. He's supposed to be very dangerous, and from what I heard, you handled him thoroughly."
"Surprise," Stoneguts said, feeling the wounds that were just out of reach, hanging over him waiting to come back. Enough that if he felt them all now he'd be on the verge of passing out from the pain. As it was, though, he was relatively unharmed, knocked about slightly, but she seemed to take in the fact that there were no bullet holes in him, despite shots ringing out repeatedly.
"Did they manage to shoot you?"
"Yes, but the clothes I have are, simply put, reinforced." He stretched slightly and said, "Now, so St. Martin was not directly interfering."
"You want to know why?" she asked.
Stoneguts nodded.
"Probably politics. If he did try to kill me, then he'd either be hung out to dry or it'd be war. It'd be the former, the White Court doesn't want war, nobody does. None of the vampire courts and certainly not the White Council," Gabe said.
"And a single act would cause war?" Stoneguts said, "This is remarkably like actual states rather than organizations."
Gabe laughed, "You have your own organizations, don't you? So St. Martin was trying to maintain deniability, I figure. Politics, gets you all the time. But why were you sent here, and not Cora?"
"She had other things to attend to. Halloween is a busy time for her," Stoneguts said simply, "There is much she has to do, and I am, as seen, more than sufficient."
"I'll say. You look like you could take out an army, and you did pretty well at it, too," Gabe said, shaking her head, her dark eyes piercing into him but not meeting his gaze. He knew about the Soulgaze, and wondered what the experience would be like. What would she see? Probably darkness and bitterness, too much for it to be worth it to be seen like that.
"It is no problem," Stoneguts said, "What matters is what the Fiddler has planned."
"I suspect he plans to do something with the ghosts on Halloween. It is a day of great magical potential and power, and if he could harness the ghost's power...I am not an ectomancer, but there are few good things you can do with a number of kidnapped figures and a bunch of ghosts on a Halloween."
King Stoneguts nodded, "And she has someone that Cora has taken under her wings." He hesitated, thinking it through, evaluating what she would do if she knew it.
They had not had time to evaluate the rules of magic for weaknesses, nor read the laws that apparently governed the Unseelie Accords. But it was very clear that there were many things that were at most moderately immoral that were apparently now offenses worthy of death. Or things that would have gotten a Changeling banishment, and only if it was egregious. Of course, the line drawn was likely less than perfectly squared.
But the third law seemed quite clear, no ambiguity.[1] So, best not to mention it at any point.
"Taken under her wings? A mortal?"
"A mortal with...certain abilities, as well as occasional prophetic dreams."
Gabe frowned, "And...what?"
"Training in exchange for being able to learn about those visions," Stoneguts said, tersely. "His name is Jason, if that helps you."
"Last name? I'm not the best at tracking spells, but if I knew his full name…"
"I do not know his full name, that is something that might be discussed later. We have saved you, and we would like to work with you to solve our mutual problem."
"Oh?" Gabe asked, "I'd be willing to help, yes."
Stoneguts thought back to what had been agreed upon.
What should be done?
[] Wait until Halloween, and there is some evidence that they will have to be on earth for the next step, and once there they can be tracked down and struck.
[] Try the mortal side of things, see if any of the people who have been recovered have any idea, or whether the White Court can make St. Martin roll over.
[] Try to go through the Nevernever to track them down and destroy them.
Who Should Go? (Choose up to 4, different people are of course best for different actions, as it were…)
[] Gabe. (Required for Nevernever)
[] Roy Taylor (Required for Nevernever.)
[] Cora Graves.
[] King Stoneguts.
[] Maggie the Zookeeper.
[] Summer Court Brute Squad…
[] A Winter Court Stealth Team…
[] Maggie the Zookeeper.
[] Write-in.
[1] Yeah, in theory if people learned that Jason "Smiles" reads minds/thoughts, he could be summarily executed (or tried in a case where there is no such thing as a mitigating factor except self-defense, and the question is 'Did you do this act) as a horrible monster deserving of death. The Laws of Magic are grand sometimes, aren't they?
*****
A/N: Alright, so here you go. Hope this was alright, we're continuing the slow drift towards the finale of this arc/section and all...
[X] "Cora sent me."
[X] The Fiddler and his plans.
[X] St. Martin's presence.
[X] Cora Graves and why Stoneguts is here.
"Cora sent me," King Stoneguts said, quietly, trying to project authority and surety so that he needn't say more.
"Really? That's the line you're going to start out with?" Gabe asked, and even through the door, he could hear the intense skepticism. He'd made a wrong move here, and just as quietly he reconsidered what he was going to say.
"If I was not, would I have done all of this to chase off St. Martin the White Court vampire and these women who seem to have been in some way brainwashed? I'm standing here, why am I doing so rather than picking up that axe and violating your privacy?"
"It could be a trick, but you make a point. Bluntly, though," Gabe said, "And don't mess with the door, I like it. I spent a lot of time working on it."
"Magical, I assume?" Stoneguts asked, glancing over at the other agents, and then nodding at them.
They lifted up the women and Gabe asked, panicked, "What are they going to do?"
"Take them somewhere so they can wake up outside of the influence of what appears to be the Fiddler's power. Cora would probably have a guess as to why it only seems to work on women."
Which was certainly odd, and definitely a weakness. Of course, there were good odds it didn't work on all women automatically, or else he'd be rather more advanced in searching out power than he was, but if the Fiddler was limited to women, that did raise questions about how he had snared Jason.
A bigot might say something about gay men being basically women, but what it actually suggested was that Jason was important in some other way. Or did the Fiddler have a way to control men, but one that it merely preferred to use less than to control woman? Certainly there were people who would prioritize such a thing, or have thoughts in that direction.
Or was it for some other reason. Something to consider, and something that felt remarkably close to Talecrafting, which was neither of their specialties.
"Oh. So, you do know Cora?"
Stoneguts chuckled, "Yeah, I do. I work with her, now and again."
"Ah...I, well, I can open the door." She did, and Stoneguts took in Gabe. She was dressed in a robe, and the bracelets on her neck and the golden disc in her ear, as well as a few other odds and ends, seemed as if they might be some form of focus for her magic, or tools.
She looked up and down at him, staring a little.
"Either you need to come with me or go back inside, because the neighbors will likely call the police soon," Stoneguts said, "I am pleased to meet you, you may call me Stoneguts."
"Stoneguts…" Gabriella said, "I assume you're...like her?"
"Yes, I am. Would you happen to know why St. Martin was here?"
"He just told me to open up, but he stood back," Gabe said, "I think it was his way of looking uninvolved. I don't really know much about the White Court in this city, but everyone knows St. Martin. He's supposed to be very dangerous, and from what I heard, you handled him thoroughly."
"Surprise," Stoneguts said, feeling the wounds that were just out of reach, hanging over him waiting to come back. Enough that if he felt them all now he'd be on the verge of passing out from the pain. As it was, though, he was relatively unharmed, knocked about slightly, but she seemed to take in the fact that there were no bullet holes in him, despite shots ringing out repeatedly.
"Did they manage to shoot you?"
"Yes, but the clothes I have are, simply put, reinforced." He stretched slightly and said, "Now, so St. Martin was not directly interfering."
"You want to know why?" she asked.
Stoneguts nodded.
"Probably politics. If he did try to kill me, then he'd either be hung out to dry or it'd be war. It'd be the former, the White Court doesn't want war, nobody does. None of the vampire courts and certainly not the White Council," Gabe said.
"And a single act would cause war?" Stoneguts said, "This is remarkably like actual states rather than organizations."
Gabe laughed, "You have your own organizations, don't you? So St. Martin was trying to maintain deniability, I figure. Politics, gets you all the time. But why were you sent here, and not Cora?"
"She had other things to attend to. Halloween is a busy time for her," Stoneguts said simply, "There is much she has to do, and I am, as seen, more than sufficient."
"I'll say. You look like you could take out an army, and you did pretty well at it, too," Gabe said, shaking her head, her dark eyes piercing into him but not meeting his gaze. He knew about the Soulgaze, and wondered what the experience would be like. What would she see? Probably darkness and bitterness, too much for it to be worth it to be seen like that.
"It is no problem," Stoneguts said, "What matters is what the Fiddler has planned."
"I suspect he plans to do something with the ghosts on Halloween. It is a day of great magical potential and power, and if he could harness the ghost's power...I am not an ectomancer, but there are few good things you can do with a number of kidnapped figures and a bunch of ghosts on a Halloween."
King Stoneguts nodded, "And she has someone that Cora has taken under her wings." He hesitated, thinking it through, evaluating what she would do if she knew it.
They had not had time to evaluate the rules of magic for weaknesses, nor read the laws that apparently governed the Unseelie Accords. But it was very clear that there were many things that were at most moderately immoral that were apparently now offenses worthy of death. Or things that would have gotten a Changeling banishment, and only if it was egregious. Of course, the line drawn was likely less than perfectly squared.
But the third law seemed quite clear, no ambiguity.[1] So, best not to mention it at any point.
"Taken under her wings? A mortal?"
"A mortal with...certain abilities, as well as occasional prophetic dreams."
Gabe frowned, "And...what?"
"Training in exchange for being able to learn about those visions," Stoneguts said, tersely. "His name is Jason, if that helps you."
"Last name? I'm not the best at tracking spells, but if I knew his full name…"
"I do not know his full name, that is something that might be discussed later. We have saved you, and we would like to work with you to solve our mutual problem."
"Oh?" Gabe asked, "I'd be willing to help, yes."
Stoneguts thought back to what had been agreed upon.
What should be done?
[] Wait until Halloween, and there is some evidence that they will have to be on earth for the next step, and once there they can be tracked down and struck.
[] Try the mortal side of things, see if any of the people who have been recovered have any idea, or whether the White Court can make St. Martin roll over.
[] Try to go through the Nevernever to track them down and destroy them.
Who Should Go? (Choose up to 4, different people are of course best for different actions, as it were…)
[] Gabe. (Required for Nevernever)
[] Roy Taylor (Required for Nevernever.)
[] Cora Graves.
[] King Stoneguts.
[] Maggie the Zookeeper.
[] Summer Court Brute Squad…
[] A Winter Court Stealth Team…
[] Maggie the Zookeeper.
[] Write-in.
[1] Yeah, in theory if people learned that Jason "Smiles" reads minds/thoughts, he could be summarily executed (or tried in a case where there is no such thing as a mitigating factor except self-defense, and the question is 'Did you do this act) as a horrible monster deserving of death. The Laws of Magic are grand sometimes, aren't they?
*****
Socialize: Failure.
Socialize 2: 1 success
Socialize 3: 3 successes, avoided a pitfall.
Socialize 2: 1 success
Socialize 3: 3 successes, avoided a pitfall.
A/N: Alright, so here you go. Hope this was alright, we're continuing the slow drift towards the finale of this arc/section and all...
- Pronouns
- They/Them
They might be. Or they might not believe it because which is more likely, "This magic totally isn't corrupting, I swear" or it just being a dodge. It's probably not to test the leniency of the council.
- Location
- Daybreak
Yeah. And the 'have him do some reads and see if he goes insane' might not work, if it is corrupting, but moves slowly enough? Although, can The Sight see dark magic corruption?