| Logs |
2001 October 23
| NachtMusik |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: NachtMusik Logs |
"Rainbow in the Dark"
Shateishael and Thessaloniki meet at 'Natural Beauty,' where Zara is warned about Drew's stated propensity for revenge, even at the expense of the Truce. Slate also mentions that he's going to take Zara's advice and take care of the underground monsters himself. Zara doesn't have any explosives, but she knows who does; a pair of Wind angels that've blown into town and have a frightening array of homemade explosives in the trunk of their Rambler.
Slate thanks her and before leaving to arrange for a purchase from the Wind angels he slightly sheepishly points out that he might come by after the fight looking like something the cat dragged in -- he hopes she won't mind too much if he asks for yet another patch-up? When she laughs, he grins and Nick presents her with the fern... which the two of them cheerfully inform her (reading from a rather crumpled print-out) is 'the tropical fern, Blechnum occidentale, which is found only at Enchanted Rock and isolated areas in tropical Florida in the United States.' They'd like to thank her with it for the patch-ups she's done for them -- and they hope she likes it.
Zara gratefully accepts it, and doesn't ask any questions about how they got a plant off the Rock. She reminds Slate of her no-questions-asked policy regarding patch jobs; just show up and don't bring trouble with you.
After the group leaves Zara with her new fern, Slate updates the group on the news he got from both Mitrah and Drew. He specifically notes the lost Creationer to Nick; asks Tay if he's willing to help coordinate the assault on the demonic Tether; asks Nick if he can take care of the cement truck; and asks Rosie if he can talk Nicole into backing up Nick, just in case...? Shateishael wishes Sax were around... but barring that, would Rosie be willing to back up Slate's opening? Not come in -- but rather shoot any monsters that come out?
Taygeta-crow nods. "Of course I'll coordinate for you if you want."
Thessaloniki tells Slate he'll take care of it. Rosenstern blinks a little to Slate. "I can try, sure. I don't think it'll take much, I mean, Nicole got along well with Nick. As for backing up that opening, certainly!" I'll be glad to do something active, as odd as that might sound...
Rosenstern looks for Nicole, but she's nowhere to be found. A little chagrined, he calls up Slate with the information. The Seraph seems a bit disgruntled by the news, but without breaking pace asks Rosie to instead cover Nick's opening to the underground.
The growl of a motorcycle announces Druiel's arrival outside. He doesn't come all the way back, but rather lingers in the shop area. He looks a little more fidgety than usual. His leather jacket is zipped all the way up to his neck, which makes him look even more uptight than normal. Some of the silver tape that traces out the cross on his back is starting to peel. By his feet is a dull metal case.
Rosenstern is himself a little edgy, but manages to hide it well. He nods quietly to Druiel in greeting as the young angel arrives, taking a casual glance around for anyone watching... such as the inscrutable McKay brothers... he thinks.
Shateishael looks a bit surprised that Drew got the bomb himself, but just mentally shrugs and murmurs to the crow on his shoulder, "Okay, never mind about someone to keep Mitrah updated too." To Drew he smiles, "Shall we go? Tay's got someone to go with you to coordinate entry, and Nick is already waiting with a cement truck where you'll be going in. Can you give Rosie a ride over with you?"
Drew says, "What do we need him for?"
Shateishael says calmly, "I asked him nicely." He pauses a significant moment, then adds, "I also want to be sure none of the torso things come out. If they do, Nick and Rosie will kill them." Rosenstern doesn't look perturbed at Druiel's question; it was probably reasonable to the nervous Seraph. Still, inwardly it irks him a little. He nods quietly at Slate's statement, but doesn't say anything.
Shateishael quietly reviews, "We'll each go to our openings, and I'll need a little time to armor up. Once I go in, Tay will notify you -- that's when you take off to drop the bomb, and Nick and Rosie start filling in the hole with cement. Once you've set the bomb, split celestially, and when the Tether goes down I'll do the same. Got that?"
Drew shrugs. "Whatever. So long as he doesn't mind riding bitch." He picks up the case. "I dunno if I can explain the case to Frex, so can you try to do your thing about a half hour after I get in? That'll pull him away and give me a few minutes to put the bomb down. It'll take me about forty minutes to walk to the catacombs... that should be just enough time. Frex is a Djinn... he'll never be able to ignore a bang that loud in his precious caves."
Rosenstern suppresses a grin, remembering Sax's comment once about the same thing, and glancing briefly at Drew's pants. Trust me, Drew, even if you were wearing leather pants, I'd probably normally beg off if you were that uptight about me riding with you. "I've got no problems, and I'm ready."
Shateishael takes a long, slow breath, thinking, I can outlast one jumpy kid. I can outlast one jumpy kid. Then he says carefully, "Certainly, Drew. If you think this change in plan is the wisest way to do it now, then we'll go with that." He doesn't mention his exasperation that Drew didn't mention this earlier... now's not the time.
Taygeta flits down in a pair of crows when Drew and Slate step outside, Hugin and Munin to the Stone Angel's Viking. "I'm all set to go. Shall we begin?"
Drew nods. "Fine. So let's go."
Shateishael nods to Taygeta's vessels and to Rosie, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the help."
Taygeta says, "De nada. I owe you at least one for helping out with Vapula."
Shateishael wonders amusedly if Drew even noticed the singular pronoun... no matter. He's already thanked Nick too, in case something really terminal happens to him. Rosenstern grins softly to Slate. "No problem." Then he sobers quietly. "Gott sei mit dir, Slate." Shateishael smiles at Rosie and Tay, mounts up, and roars off to the underground entrance he'll be using.
The Congress Street Bridge is still kind of rank down below, the squatters and derelicts still crowding around there. The crack in the wall near the support is still there, with its weird breeze of warm rank air. Some of the transients give the two bikers odd looks, but on the other hand there's a cement truck parked in their home, so it's already a bad day. One of the homeless is seeking a guarantee from Nick that no one is going to pave over their "houses." He toddles off, seeing the reinforcements arrive.
Thessaloniki has been idly reassuring the luckless there that no, they're just going to take care of that hole that eats people, and trying not to have his cement mixer towed. Drew parks his bike near the truck and waits for Rosenstern to dismount. To Nick he says, "It'll only be a couple minutes. I don't think this will take long."
Thessaloniki says, "It'll take a few to get some forms in place, but I brought plenty of plywood, so once you're through, we'll seal this crack." Rosenstern hops off of the bike, grimacing a little but making himself ready, helping Nick to reassure the people who make the area their home, while keeping a watchful eye on the hole. Taygeta arrives just a few minutes after the bike, settling his Borrowed crow on the cab of the cement truck. He stays quiet in deference to the humans, but nods to the others when he can catch their eyes.
Drew nods. "That's good. I, um... didn't expect to have this much backup."
Thessaloniki says to Drew, "Things are always easier with help," and grins.
Rosenstern grins wryly at Drew's comment. "Surprise!" he says, quietly but cheerfully.
Drew says, "Well... Just don't get hurt on my account."
Thessaloniki comments, "I'll do my best. Don't get yourself killed, either." Rosenstern nods at Nick's request. There doesn't seem to be much more to say.
Drew looks down at his boots. "...I'll try."
Thessaloniki looks at Drew and asks, "You don't sound happy about that. Something wrong?"
Drew shakes his head. "Nah. Just nervous. It's a couple thousand years worth of pressure, y'know."
Thessaloniki ahs, then says, "It'll be cool. Let's do it." He wanders over to the truck and looks for some stuff, calling, "Hey, Rosie!" He hands the Mercurian a white hard hat and a clipboard with impressive looking forms on it, saying, "Hang on to these. If anybody official comes along, stall 'em. Tell 'em we're fixing this crack, we work for the city, whatever. As soon as Drew goes in, I'm going to stick some plywood across the end of the crack, and then we'll put the block on this end -- much simpler -- and start pumping."
Rosenstern grins and nods, plopping the hardhat on his head. "You got it." He proceeds to keep watch, looking out for any city officials and such, and ready to assist Nick if asked.
Drew nods. "Looks like it's time." He grabs the case and heads for the entrance at a sprint. "Good luck, guys..." He pauses and says quietly to Nick, "And, um, thanks. You didn't have to help." With that, he disappears into the cavern entrance.
Rosenstern blinks and opens his mouth to wish Drew luck... but then the Seraph's gone. "Good luck, Drew..." he says softly.
Thessaloniki gives Drew a minute to get started as he does his work with hammer, saw, and plywood to build the needed forms. Once they're in place, he backs the truck up, puts the spout in place, and starts pouring concrete, shoveling it down the crack as it flows to make sure it fills the whole space. Taygeta flits his wings at Nick and Rose, then takes off to watch for arriving officialdom. He stays close to the bridge, flying back and forth.
Shateishael nods when Tay-Crow informs him that Drew's in place, and asks Tay-Crow to warn him once the half an hour is up. Then he armors up swiftly once he's under the bat-roost bridge, using the steel SCA torso armor he owns, as well as the heavy shock-plastic hockey leg protectors. He puts on the spelunking helmet and tucks the already-prepared explosives into his belt. He clicks the light on, then off, to test it, then draws his sword. He'll drop to one knee and takes a moment to pray while he still can in peace.
At Tay's cue Shateishael rises and grins at the crow, "Take care." He clicks on the spelunking light, puts on something to block the stench of the bat guano... and heads carefully into the dark cave-like entrance. Taygeta's other self watches Slate depart, then starts a more lonely vigil.
It really, really reeks in Bracken Cave. The guano is thick, and evidently of an excellent vintage. However, after a few hundred feet the guano starts to thin out, giving way to dark sandstone and very, very silent darkness. The tunnels are deadly quiet, and the walls glisten slightly in the headlamp. Shateishael has already plotted out on the subterranean maps where he wants to plant the explosives. He heads that way to plant them, keeping an eye out for a good place to put his back to and defend against the headless torsos.
The tunnel continues to stretch out, a rough gap in the rock. The appointed spot, by Slate's accurate estimation, is only a few dozen yards away now. Shateishael paces along warily, sword out and ready. He's mentally picks out a place to duck into while waiting for the explosives to go off... he continues. There's a scuttling sound as Slate enters the demolition site -- the wet, slapping noise that preceded all the other torso attacks. There's something else this time, though... something low and faint like wind in the tunnel.
Shateishael thinks, Oh shit... big company. Well, that is my job -- distraction... He puts his back to a wall and continues to sidle along it towards his intended goal, his head turning alertly as he waits for the torsos. The lacquered torsos do indeed make their appearance only a few moments later, appearing just at the edges of the headlamp. At least seven, and that's only the visible ones. However, they appear to be... waiting for something. They crouch just at the edges of the rock chamber, gleaming wetly.
Shateishael frowns worriedly -- what are they waiting for? ...then simply hastily plants the explosives in what looks like an appropriate niche in a loose spot of rock. He's got ten seconds on the timer... he sets the timer, puts a rock in front of the little niche they're in -- then runs like hell for his intended hidey-hole!
The torsos surge forward as their prospective prey starts to bolt; unfortunately for them, the prey possesses legs and they don't. The explosion fills the small stone chamber. From his hiding place, Shateishael can only hear the clatter of settling debris.
Shateishael winces despite his ears being tightly covered... then coughs a few times, drawing his sword and waiting. Let's see what that draws... come on, Drew, don't fail us, guy! He grins quietly to himself. At the very least, that resonated strongly through the Symphony. His friends will know the explosives went off successfully. Drew's ten minute window has started. It's not a long time, but for the celestial hiding in the darkness, it seems like an age.
Taygeta nods and lands on the mixer truck again. Stage one complete. Now it's up to Drew. Rosenstern shivers a little, and automatically turns to look in the direction of Slate's explosion, as unheard as it was by mortal ears. Thessaloniki continues pushing concrete around and trying not to worry.
At length there's another scuttling in the darkness, but not the same sort of noise as approaching torsos. The Stone angel hears something approaching from the direction of the exploded chamber, but closer, as if it had come this way by an alternate route. One... no, two sets of footsteps. They both sort of shamble, but one a lot more quickly than the other. As a breeze shifts the wind in his direction, Slate notices distinctly: something stinks! Even worse than the guano outside... if he strains his ears, he can make out muffled conversation.
Shateishael takes a long, slow breath... shifts his weight evenly, and... patiently waits. I am Shateishael of Stone... come find me, demon. Come find me... we have a little surprise for you... He listens intently, trying to figure out what approaches.
Voice one, a low, guttural sound, "...did this... take their Truce..." Voice two isn't a voice so much as a deep, pitiful moan. Voice one replies, "Quit your bitching... wait. Damn! ...the seraph brat... in the Catacombs... see anyone... kill them, Eyebiter!" The reply is another moan. The first set of footsteps shambles away again... and then there's silence.
Shateishael frowns... so Frex knows about Drew's presence. There's nothing Slate can do to help Drew now -- Slate may be pressed just to keep himself alive at this point. He prays silently that David and Lawrence will guard Drew... and waits for Frex. Let the demon strike first. Don't start the fight... just finish it. The cavern is very silent. After a few more moments of quiet, the sound of low groaning and weeping comes from the direction the conversation. The stink has gone, at least.
Shateishael swears silently inside as he realizes from the sound of the voices -- Frex went back into the catacombs? He takes a moment to carefully place where he thought the voices came from. Hopefully there'll be a tunnel there -- then he charges forward, sword at the ready, heading as fast as he can after Frex. He'll have something called Eyebiter behind him -- but he's got to distract Frex -- that was his job. Hopefully he's faster than it, whatever it is -- and if not, he'll just have to put his back to a wall and kill it first. Or, if I'm more lucky than I deserve... the bomb will go off first.
As it happens, he manages to find Eyebiter first. It wasn't lying in wait so much as just standing in the middle of a tunnel, staring dumbly ahead and moaning softly. Eyebiter is, at first glance, more of Saminga's work -- and not one of the neater applications. The figure there in Slate's headlamp, wrapped in ragged and crumbling old clothing, looks like it... well, it used to be female, anyway. With the exception of loose and stringy eyebrows, the animated corpse's hair has all fallen out long ago, and the skin is held loosely together with shoddy stitching and, in at least one place, staples. The nose has mostly receded, and the mouth is now just a line of jagged teeth. It sways a little, taking a step in Slate's direction, mumbling, "...kill me..."
Shateishael does his best to dodge around it and keep going, his mission firmly in mind. The zombie claws at the Stone angel in passing. "...nnno!" The claws rake across the angel's armor, but do no damage. The corpse wheels around and slowly tries to orient itself to give chase.
Shateishael feels almost relieved at the attack -- he couldn't bring himself to just kill it, no matter how piteous it was. He whirls smoothly, slicing at it, "Die in peace -- I am needed elsewhere!" The zombie staggers, the slash opening a ripe-smelling gash in its side, but doesn't fall. It continues to plod after the angel.
Shateishael is sorry for the poor thing -- but Drew's need draws him on. "If I can, I'll return and finish the job decently." He whirls and keeps running. Well, it should at least be easy to find later... it's following. Now... Frex, distraction, gotta slow the demon down somehow, let's see... He draws a deep breath, then bellows, "Frex! Coward, come and do your own dirty work!" He grins to himself, thinking, You show-off... and keeps running.
Slate breaks clear into a larger chamber lined with stalactites. There's something crouching at the far side, but it's hard to get light on it through the forest of rock formations. That stink is back again. Whatever it is, it's absolutely nauseous. The voice from before mutters, in a mocking little singsong, "...do your own dirty work..."
Shateishael pauses, sighing in relief. Now, as long as it's not sitting on Drew, things will be fine. He laughs aloud, echoing through the cavern, and puts his back to a wall near the door again, so he can kill poor Eyebiter easily if it turns up again. His voice is mocking, "Did you get cornered? Can't imagine why you wouldn't run otherwise." He wonders, Sheesh, Drew, what're you doing? Rock origami? Set off the damn bomb already! as he checks warily that there's no stalactites directly overhead.
The voice just mutters, "...says the back-door man... I haven't got time for you." The voice starts to mumble something unintelligible in the Helltongue.
Shateishael says, "Whups! Let's not go there..." He charges.
Shateishael realizes several things very quickly. One, he's not going to be able to interrupt the demon in time as he dodges through the stone formations at it. Two, he's not got time to do anything himself... and three, he sure hopes these darned stone formations give him some cover from whatever it is the demon's planning! There's a crack of blue light from the far side of the cave, then a thunderous noise explodes through the tiny chamber, and a wave of hot air. The sound actually reverberates into the Celestial as well. Slate can guess, a moment before the shock hits him, that it's the Song of Thunder.
Shateishael laughs in spite of himself as he charges the ancient diabolical singer, his Norse training suddenly surging to the fore, and yells a battle cry in an almost dead language. His determination is enough to prevent his being stunned by the Song -- but not so much that he doesn't realize stalactites are shaking free and falling! He dodges adroitly, taking a few nasty scratches from flying debris but avoiding any direct hits, and continues his charge. At this point he's forgotten that he's 'merely' the distraction -- he's alight with the joy of battle.
Frexindetious is finally visible in Slate's headlamp. And it's obvious, the closer one gets, that he's what stinks in here. He is truly vomitous to smell... and not much to look at. A burly, greasy man with a paunch, wearing filthy jeans and an only-slightly-less-filthy 'wife-beater' shirt, crouches in the light. For a moment Slate thinks Frex has something in his shirt, a small animal or something... but as Frex starts moving forward, raising his fists, the Stone Angel realizes that it's moving with Frex's arms; he's got vestigiae growing out of his chest!
Shateishael whirls and dodges as best he can, but is still struck violently in the head -- Frex is amazingly strong, and obviously an astonishing fighter. Slate coughs, then laughs, "Passable, passable! My turn!" and slices sharply at the demon's thick neck, reasoning that if there's no working mouth -- there's no Song!
Frex lurches backward, bending his body back at an obscene angle, even his disgusting little vestigae whipping themselves out of the way as the blade passes over. He snaps back up as if on springs, ready for the next exchange. His nasty little singsong comes, "...passable, passable..." He uses his momentum, coming back up, to belt Slate solidly in the mouth with another large, greasy fist. The Stone Angel is bowled completely over. The helmet goes flying, leaving a wide cone of light bouncing off the stalactites as the rank Djinn stalks over to the angel, grinning mockingly.
Frex licks his lips. "...not so tough. Maybe I'll like you better when you're all prettied up like my other friends." The demon Seneschal reaches down and picks up the stunned Stone Angel easily. His vestigiael arms wave sickeningly close to Slate's face. "Now," he grins, leering, "Let's have some more fun." He raises his fist again.
At that very moment something goes rocketing past Taygeta's body at Bracken Cave. It's a dark obsidian shape, apparently a Celestial form. The Kyriotate hears something echoing in the Celestial tongue. It sounds like, "Ooohhhhh nooo...!"
Frex's fist never comes down. He freezes. Something staggering echoes in the Symphony; more corporeal destruction than any of the assembled angels have ever heard before. It's deafening.
Thessaloniki stops what he's doing and says merely, "Hope Drew and Slate got clear." He waits for the Symphony to subside, then returns to the task of sealing off the hole.
Taygeta-crow shakes his head. "Drew's Celestial form just left Bracken Cave at warp eight. Haven't seen Slate yet."
Rosenstern is opening his mouth to ask Nick if he heard that resounding thunder in the Symphony -- it's taken him a few moments to realize it was not physically heard -- when the waves of destruction, the soundless, unutterably discordant, roiling crescendo resounds through the Symphony, almost driving him to his knees in shock, not nearly as composed as Nick. Was in Namens Gott?! he thinks, panicked. Dresden didn't even come close to this! The bomb must have gone off! He manages to recover enough to nod shakily to Nick. "Y-yeah," he murmurs, "I hope so to..." He looks sharply to the crow, and nods.
The entire cave shudders. Frex stares in horror at the angel in his grasp. "What have you done?!"
Shateishael coughs, spitting blood, then just grins lopsidedly at the disgusting thing before him. "Not I. Mitrah sends her regards."
Frex's eyes widen. "Mitrah... the uranium... she couldn't have! It's NOT POSSIBLE!
Shateishael laughs! -then concentrates -- and slips with delighted ease into celestial form, spiraling upwards, singing a joyous battlesong. Frex's body is starting to... distort, swell and contract in bizarre ways, as the Tether disintegrates. He shrieks incoherently, looking as if he might explode. Needless to say, he doesn't give chase.
Shateishael: a palpitating, wingéd snake, bright and cirque-couchant. A gordian shape of dazzling hue: vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue. Eyed like a peacock and all crimson barr'd; full of silver moons that, as it breathes, dissolve or brighter shine, or interwreathe their lustres -- so rainbow-sided!
Shateishael spins around to whirl celestially down the tunnel, still singing -- it has one last promise to keep, to a lonely zombie. It makes sure poor Eyebiter is gone -- crumbled to dust once Frex' will no longer animates it -- then simply soars upward through the rock into the night sky above, still aglow with battle-joy.
The mortals seem quite restless; even without an intimate connection to the Symphony they can still sense something's... changed. Moreover, people are starting to show up on the bridge; the Wind angels, Nicole, and what appears to be one uniformed police officer, who's already on his way down the slope. Rosenstern glances up at the uniformed officer, as he straightens his hard hat. "Uh-oh," he murmurs. "What do you think, Nick?"
Thessaloniki continues running concrete into the gap, which is close to filled. He says, "We're fixing this bridge. We belong here. It's even true. Convince the man."
Rosenstern nods serenely and confidently, then looks up as if noticing the officer approaching for the first time. When it becomes clear the officer is approaching them of all people, he tilts the hard hat back on his head a bit and nods towards the man. "Evenin'!" he says amicably, as if not expecting the cop to do more than just reply to the greeting.
The cop is a clean-shaven young man with dark hair and eyes and an impossibly neat uniform. He says, "You want to explain what you're doing here?" His badge number, interestingly, is 777.
Rosenstern tries not to be surprised by the badge, briefly wondering how he can tell if the man is truly a celestial, or just a cop blessed with a peculiar badge number. "Fixin' the bridge, officer. Big hole there, makes for a heck of a dangerous spot, so we're fixin' it, pourin' in some 'crete." Not that he's worried or feels any particular compunction about it, but there's no lies in what he's said.
The cop remains deadpan. "Look, you don't need to feed me a line. I'm with the Sword. Just level with me, what's going on here? I'm here to help."
Shateishael dances lightly through celestial breezes, still singing happily to itself, then dives sleekly for the bridge, where one of the Tay-crows awaits with the bike, to reassure its friends. As Shateishael spirals gleefully downwards towards the underside of the bridge, it spies something interesting, and swoops gracefully down for a better look.
There... the McKay brothers, running like hell for the entrance of the Bracken Bridge Park, and staggering like something had stunned them. Interesting... Then the gleaming seraph finishes the dive under the bridge, singing joyously to the Dominated crow there to tell the others it is safe. Taygeta nods to the Celestial Slate and waits for the Seraph to return to his mortal Vessel.
Shateishael re-corporates, looking distinctly less sleek and shining -- his face has taken a severe beating, the spelunking helmet is gone, and there are some nasty, bloody scratches along his vessel. Still, he's beaming -- even though he winces a little -- as he mounts up on the bike. A little thickly he says, "Got 'im, Tay! How're the others?"
Slate: male, looks about 20 to 25 years old. Bright blonde hair sometimes worn back in a ponytail, sometimes rather impatiently hacked off in front as bangs. Usually narrowed blue eyes and tanned skin. Broad shouldered, with a muscular torso, like a blacksmith. Slightly sardonic grin most of the time. Usually moves deliberately, tends to wear pragmatic, sturdy clothing: heavy leather boots, jeans, flannel shirts, stuff like that. Currently looking
quite messily bloody, battered, beaten up -- and exuberant!
Taygeta hops up on Slate's shoulder. "Rose is chatting with a Sword in the form of a human police officer, but everyone's cool. Drew's out too. What happened to you? You look like you went through a wringer. I thought you were just supposed to be a diversion?"
Shateishael huhs... then nods, "Okay, won't go there." He carefully pulls the helmet on, then laughs in spite of himself at Tay's comment, cheerfully saying, "Hey, man... I'm gooood!" He laughs, then adds, "Goin' to Ms. Zara's instead then. Go ahead an' tell 'em I'll meet 'em there, 'kay?"
Taygeta-crow nods to Slate. "Will do, as soon as we're away from the humans."
Shateishael cheerfully adds, as the bike roars out from under Bracken Bridge, "Should see th'other guy, Tay!"
Taygeta caws. "I heard. I'm sure that breaking up a Tether didn't do a Seneschal any good." Shateishael's laughter drifts behind him.
Rosenstern blinks, 'feeling' to see if the cop is telling the truth -- sure feels like it -- then grins a little and nods, "Right, sorry, sir. We're helping a friend of ours. A bunch of Death's... uhm, aberrations have been seeping out to the surface here, occasionally taking people back in with them, and we're sealing the hole here to keep them from getting out." Taygeta's crow self back at Congress Street lands near the officer talking to Rose and caws, nodding when he gets the Angel's attention.
The cop frowns. "And that had nothing to do with what I just heard."
Rosenstern thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "Actually, well, it did. That..." he says quietly and slowly, "-was the sound of Death's Tether being blown to Hell." The Novalite continues after a moment, "The Seneschal of Enchanted Rock had... a very old matter to settle with Frexindetious, who was the source of the aberrations. Basically that settling involved... well, what we just heard. We're mainly making sure that the aberrations stay below ground, and don't come out ever again."
Thessaloniki continues going about his work, hammering a last piece of plywood in place, making sure the concrete fills the gap nicely. The police officer says, "I see. All right, well... okay, I'm going to go make sure the mortals' stories are all straight and try to disperse this crowd. Get your asses out of here as soon as you can. I expect this is going to strain relations around here quite a bit."
Rosenstern lets out a breath. "If it helps any, it was an old duel between the Seneschals. From before the Truce was established, and they were both already here, outside of Austin. And we don't even know yet if the Seneschal of Stone made it through this in one piece... but I see your point. We'll finish up and be on our way quickly. Thanks, sir."
The officer just says, as he walks off to get the situation contained, "It's not me you need to explain yourself to now."
Rosenstern lets out another breath as he turns back to the truck. Wonderful. Well, hopefully, Rosie, with all this behind us, you can turn to doing what you can to help uphold the Truce, now. The weather seems to be turning sour. There's an unseasonably large Texas thunderstorm starting to brew. Thessaloniki is finishing up with the truck, and putting tools, hoses, bits of board, and other whatnot away. It's not long before he calls, "Hey, Rosie, we're done here. We ought to take that fellow's advice and get out of here." He looks at the crow, "Any word from Slate?"
Taygeta says, "Slate made it out; he's on his way to Zara's. I hope he makes it before the rain starts. Me, I'm going to find a nice bluff to watch the storm from..."
Thessaloniki looks at the sky and says, "Can you take Drew's bike back to Zara's, Rosie, and we'll hook up there? I want to drop off this truck, and I'll be there too."
Rosenstern nods, helping Nick put stuff away onto the truck. He looks up into the sky and mentally sighs. That doesn't look good. With my luck, that's foreboding... "Slowly, but yes, I can, sure. I'll meet you there."
Thessaloniki says, "Great. See you soon." The police officer seems to have reassured all the mortals that this is authorized bridge repair, and starts getting all the present Celestials' stories straight as well. He especially lectures the twin Wind angels. He also gives Nick a phone number and his name. He's Officer Trent, badge 777, and he's always available. Nick nods amiably, then drives off through the rain, slowly and sedately.
Rosenstern gets onto the bike a little cautiously and warily, making sure the helmet is on solidly. Let's see if I remember how to do this. It's certainly not a BMW... He starts up the bike and pulls out into the traffic, making his way to Zara's shop, mentally chuckling to himself even as he makes very sure not to make any mistakes. I should be wearing riding leathers with this -- gah -- now, it's been ages since I've worn something like that! -and I'm sure Slate is going to remind me of that. But as long as I go nice and slow I should be all right.
Shateishael reaches Zara's place and parks, then tucks himself under a roof so he can call Mitrah -- both to congratulate her and to make sure she's okay. From the lack of Symphonic disturbance in her direction he's assuming she's still standing... but he wants to be sure. The phone at the ranger station takes forever to pick up. Finally it clicks. "Enchanted Rock National Park. Ranger station, this is Newcastle."
Shateishael sighs in quiet relief -- well, at least the human vessel is safe. Now to see if she's currently Dominated. "Ms. Mitrah?"
Maxine says, "You've done very well, boy. Better than I could have hoped." She pauses, "Is Druiel with you?"
Shateishael laughs! "Thanks, ma'am... but I really called to say congratulations." He does his best to enunciate clearly, despite his aching, bloody jaw, "No'm, he's not, but Tay said he got out okay. Are you okay? An'... you gonna take care of talkin' t'th'Old Guy? Or who?"
She actually seems relieved at the news about Druiel. "Ah... that's excellent news. Yes, I'm... very well. Better than I've been for two thousand years, in fact. Actually... I think I'm going to go enjoy the sunrise, b-" She catches herself. "Shateishael. And yes... I'll speak to him. I think he'll understand just fine."
Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Ma'am, 'boy' is jus' fine, if that's what you're really comfortable with. And thanks for takin' care of th'Old Guy." He smiles, genuinely happy to hear how she's feeling, then adds, "I should get off th'phone. Talk to you later, ma'am... enjoy the sunrise."
She says, "Until later."
Shateishael adds with a quiet smile, "Stay strong," before he hangs up. He looks up into the sky, laughing quietly, and calls out softly, "Thank you!" He just enjoys the feel of the battering rain on his upturned, bloody face for a moment... then turns and limps a little tiredly into the salon.
Zara looks rather nervous -- she, of course, heard the Sound. She bites her lip softly, seeing the Stone angel enter... but she doesn't ask questions; that's her policy. She shows him into the back room and the healing mud. Shateishael smiles wearily at the Flowers angel, and is very carefully polite, not wanting to increase her worry.
It doesn't hit Slate, of course, that his face might be just as alarming as anything else that night. He slowly strips out of the armor, wincing a bit, then slides with a deep, relieved sigh into the mud. Shateishael takes a deep breath... then slides down even further, under the mud. His head is, after all, the most damaged part of his body currently.
Shateishael thinks about it a moment... then one hand emerges long enough to tug his sword under the mud too. Might as well have a surprise should someone come looking to surprise him... and he'll be cleaning the sword completely later anyway, to get all the filth off it from the caverns.
Stooping rain finishes Rosie's short jaunt to Natural Beauty, and he parks the bike under an awning, out of the direct rain. I'm sure Drew'll want it at least a little dry. He locks up the bike, carrying the helmet with him into the shop as he jogs the short distance to Zara's, and getting more than a little soaked. As he enters, he shakes the rain from his vest, at least, and sets the helmet on the coat rack. By the time he comes in Slate is already in the back, and he can't see the Seraph of Stone.
Maybe an hour and a half later, Nick turns up, driving around the block a time or two in his little stainless-steel sports car until he finds what he hopes to be the closest parking. It helps only little, and he's still pretty wet when he makes it in. He smiles and greets Zara politely, asking how her day has been. Zara smiles shakily. "Gonna be more interesting soon, child."
Thessaloniki says, "You're not the first to suggest that. I can see how some folks will be a mite irritated, but I don't much know what they'll do about it." Rosenstern blinks at Zara's comment, and opens his mouth... but then closes it, biting his lip. There's something about how Zara is acting that's oddly disquieting.
Zara shakes her head. "It will be tense for a while, I think. But this is neutral ground; always has been. So you can relax here... you have my word on that."
Thessaloniki smiles and says, "Never doubted it for a moment, ma'am."
Zara nods. "Well, your friend will need a few hours at least in the baths. Are any of you hurt?"
Rosenstern lets out his breath; he'd been worried... but no, no need to fret about that. He smiles quietly to Zara, shakes his head. "I'm not, no, but thank you."
Thessaloniki says, "Other than having gotten to play in concrete all day, I believe we're fine. I haven't seen Druiel in a while; if he shows up or calls, Rosie's brought his bike back here. We heard he should be okay, but I don't know where he's wound up."
Zara nods. "Why don't you go ahead and make coffee, child," she says to Rosen, "I think business might pick up soon." Rosenstern blinks a little at Zara's comment, but nods and sets up the coffee service.
A few hours pass. A lot of people are in and out; some small scrapes have broken out, but nothing serious. Someone clocked Tomas and ran; the smaller, rat-like Wind angel comes in with busted knuckles after finding who did it. There are minor cases like this all morning.
Shateishael wanders out several hours later, clad in jeans, looking like a new Seraph. He stuffs all the filthy armor into his duffel and tosses it into the back of Nick's DeLorean to be cleaned later. He returns into the salon to clean the sword, and pauses long enough to thank Zara, bowing politely over her hand the way Nick taught him Europeans do, "Thanks much, ma'am."
Zara smiles. "It's what I'm here for, child. Take good care, all right?"
Shateishael grins cheerfully, "Do my best, ma'am. I know Nick's already told you, but you need anything, you just call, okay?"
Rosenstern stands as Slate emerges, smiling quietly and glad to see the Seraph all well. Shateishael grins and casually gives the smaller Mercurian a one-armed hug, scabbarded sword in the other hand, "Hey, thanks for keeping an eye on Nick's back, man."
Rosenstern blinks with the hug, then returns it warmly, chuckling quietly. "The least I could do, Slate. I was glad to help." He turns to Nick and moves to hug the Ofanite as well. "I didn't get a chance," he almost whispers, "-to thank you for throwing that phone at Vilson. It kept him from shooting me, I'm sure. Thank you, Nick." Shateishael looks pleased... but doesn't say anything. It's Nick's moment.
Thessaloniki returns Rosenstern's hug, saying, "Thanks, Rosie."
Shateishael will peacefully sit down with his friends and just chat idly and calmly with them as he cleans his sword. If anyone that comes in asks (which he doubts will happen), he's willing to let the truth come out now... Mitrah settled a long-standing argument with Frex... out of town. One of the rumors that floats in with the passing traffic is that a war band came down from San Antonio and a squad of Hellforce from out in the desert... but no one can confirm the reports of new angels or Hellsworn in town.
Rosenstern observes the comings-and-goings, the reports and rumors of scraps and fights, with more than a little growing tension. The fighting, the low-level tension occasionally spilling to the surface... it starts to remind him far too much of Weimar Berlin in the days after Versaille. He begins to get a greater appreciation of how delicate and balanced the Austin Truce is. For now he remains at Zara's shop, to catch up on the work he's missed in all the preparations for what happened.
About an hour later, once the sword is clean, Slate's ready to go back home with Nick. He grins, slapping Nick lightly on the back, "So! Let's go home... that hot tub's callin' my name, guy!" He looks at Rosenstern, then Zara, and grins, "Can Rosie come out and play, ma'am? We promise to bring him back with the dawn?"
Zara says, "I could use him here, but you can have him after he runs an errand for me."
Shateishael grins at Rosenstern, waggling his eyebrows, "Oooh!" then laughs in spite of himself at the Mercurian's face!
Zara says, "I need you to run to my house and bring back five jugs of the mud for me-" She gives the Stone angel such a look. Shateishael guffaws again, unable to help it! Thessaloniki also grins, but refrains from comment.
Rosenstern has something of a blankly startled look at Slate's choice of words, noting that he's probably not seen the Seraph in quite such a cheerful mood! He nods quickly to Zara, and says cheerfully, "Certainly! Shan't be long..." And with that, he's off...
Shateishael manages to throttle down his chortling after a few moments, "Heh... okay, we can wait here. Oh, that reminds me, guys... guess who I saw fleeing the park, moving like they'd been stunned?" He grins, "The McKay brothers! Interesting, eh?"
Thessaloniki considers it. He finally says, "Interesting, I guess. Dunno quite what to make of it."
Shateishael nods cheerfully, then settles down patiently to wait for Rose's return, long legs stretched out before him. He muses, "Need a new spelunking helmet..."
Rosenstern notices, on his way across town, that there are a few more people on the street than might be expected for such a shitty, gray, and wet morning. Perhaps the humans are just subconsciously restless, or the celestials consciously so. However, as he makes his way to the west side, he notices a band of seven men making their way up one of the side streets.
At their head is a very tall, solidly built man in a blue Southwestern shirt, under a heavy rain parka and a big cowboy hat. What catches Rosenstern's eye is the aura of authority this man has... and his long ponytail, streaked with gray. And the third man back in the band, wearing his silly, loud Hawaiian shirt open over a white undershirt, is Saxon.
Rosenstern slows in his dashing across the street, unable to keep from looking at the man. The aura is tangible, it almost reaches down the street and whacks him upside the head. He tears his eyes from the clearly powerful man long enough to look over the other six men -- and some part of his mind is not unaware of the significance of the number seven.
He blinks in confusion when he sees Saxon amongst them, in the back -- the shirt is impossible to miss. That would make this a band of Celestials -- angels. He frowns slightly, his gaze going back to the man in the lead, vaguely recognizing him, and wondering who-
The Mercurian's feet splatter water upon his khakis, drenching his pants legs more than the rain alone could, as he runs back to Zara's. Somehow he manages to still hold on to the jars of mud even as he splashes across the street to the salon. Entering, he spots Nick and Slate immediately and goes to them, finally saying only loud enough for them to hear, the angel's physical vessel out of breath: "Michael's here, in Austin."
Thessaloniki says, "Interesting. I doubt that's a coincidence."
Shateishael looks interested, "Whoa... guess the echoes in the Symphony disguised a lot of folks moving around." He thinks a moment, then nods, "Glad to hear he's around... bet that makes breaking the Truce harder."
Rosenstern swallows, panting slightly as he gently places the jars on the table. "I don't know," he says weakly. "Isn't Michael one of the ones who don't approve of the Truce?"
Shateishael grins at Rose, "Yup, and neither does David... but they both have reasons to want it to stand too." He gives Zara a curious look, "Has he come here before?"
Zara says, "If he has I never knew of it, child. What the Warrior does... isn't any business of mine."
Shateishael nods thoughtfully, "Okay. So he's unlikely to come here then." He smiles at Rose and Nick, "Wanna head out now, guys?"
Thessaloniki says, "Sure."
Rosenstern lets out a breath; he can't bring himself to feel comforted, though if Slate's right -- and there's no reason to think he isn't -- then at least the Truce will hold, will be held, through this. "I guess those rumors of a war band from San Antonio were true, then. Which means the Hellsworn rumor could be true, too... which means it's..." He falters a bit, fretting as he wonders which of Hell's princes would come to Austin out of the Desert. As the others prepare to leave, he promises Zara he will be back later that day, and that he will also be spending the evening tending her garden, to make up for time lost in that endeavor.
Rosenstern is folded up as small as possible to fit in the back of the DeLorean, with Slate sliding his seat forward as far as he can for the Mercurian. Then the Ofanite takes off, heading back towards the Ranch, with Slate occasionally belting out the choruses of songs on the radio -- it's obvious he's still on a bit of a battle high.
Thessaloniki has to resist the urge not to stop driving through the rain, as he hasn't had a chance to drive too fast in the rain in a while. He does, though, and pulls up at the Ranch. Shateishael shoulders his armor bag easily, then tromps into the house, still singing snatches of the last song they'd been listening to. He waves at Tay-Tom, then grins at Nick, "So, hot tub?"
Taygeta has email. There's a message open on the screen. It reads: Taygeta -- Jean is losing his shit. I'm coming down there to do damage control. -Rei. Shateishael glances over Tay-Tom's shoulder, then laughs, "Cool! Hey, Nick, Rosie... the pretty Bright is coming to visit!"
Thessaloniki glances over at that statement and sees the message. He comments, "Jean should eat more fiber," then says to Slate, "Yeah, I think so." Shateishael blinks slowly... then laughs aloud at Nick's comment!
Rosenstern blinks from where he's been hanging up his vest in the bathroom. "Rei? Really?" he asks, coming out from the bathroom. "Hey, great! What's the occasion?" He looks oddly to Nick at the fiber comment, then looks over the cat at the screen. He reads it two or three times before his exuberance fades. "This isn't exactly how I'd hoped we'd see her again." He makes a frustrated sound, then rubs his eyes. "Blast, that's right... I saw Saxon in Michael's war band. Michael had six angels with him; Sax was one of them."
Shateishael grins at Nick amusedly, shaking his head, "I think maybe we need to keep our heads real low for a while, eh?"
Thessaloniki says, "Yep. For a start, I'm going to have a quick shower and get the concrete off of me, and then I'll join you in the hot tub."
Shateishael grins at Nick again, "S'cool. Rosie and I'll meet you there." Rosie makes no further comment, except to express gratitude for the upcoming relaxing soak, and shortly after, his vessel falls uncommonly asleep, restful if not at least mildly troubled.
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