| Logs |
2010 October 20
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Gathering Storm
The cathedral is quiet and lit only by sunlight through stained glass and the flickering of the candles lit by worshippers. The pews look old and well-cared-for, as do the various small shrines along the walls which depict various saints. The crucifix at the front of the building is unusual in that it depicts not the agony of Christ's sacrifice, but beatific joy. Chanticleer was always fond of this cathedral, in part for exactly that reason: the crucifix, or perhaps a better term would be 'beatitrix.' At least, that is the court poet in him looking for a better word. For now, though, he is looking for the Frere, the Catholique priest in residence. "Frere Alfonse?" he calls out softly, when he does not immediately see the man.
There is a stirring from one of the many shadowy corners of the room, and the priest appears. For a priest, he is a hale man. Of course, he grows his own food and does most of the small repairs around the cathedral. His vestments are sturdy and, often as not, a bit smudged with earth. "Chanticleer?" he asks, looking surprised to see the guard at this odd time of day.
Chanticleer bows, both politely and as a matter of respect. The fey have had a grudging and, truth be told, cautious respect for the gods of humans; there are some limits even fey are not inclined to test. "Hello, Frere. I am sorry for interrupting you. There has been an incident in a warehouse -- we suspect some sort of Tap magic, but it's not like any we've seen before. It looks... very, very unwholesome. King Roy sent me to ask you to come... and to bring all the holy water you can."
The priest frowns slightly, but it is more at the news of the unwholesome magic than at anything else, "That is an odd request, but Roy would not make it lightly." He nods and turns, motioning Chanticleer to follow him. The baptistry for the cathedral is at the front of the church, right at the feet of the joyful crucifix. The Frere gathers a couple of wineskins from the vestry and fills them with water from the font, murmuring blessings over them before slinging one over his shoulder and handing the other to the sidhe. He has never assumed holy relics or sacraments will harm the fae, as some other clergy do.
Chanticleer hesitates a moment; superstition tells him things blessed by a human god can and will harm him, despite him knowing better. He steels himself and takes the wineski- holywaterskin. "I will need to go retrieve one more person," he says, "and then help Mother Therese bring her own things to the site. I will be there with this as soon as I am able."
The priest's brows go up even further and he says, "This must be serious. Are you certain I shouldn't just go on ahead?" He doesn't otherwise seem bothered by mention of the old medicine woman.
Chanticleer considers, then nods, "That may be best, please, Frere. If you could go on ahead, I will be there shortly."
The priest takes back the skin of holy water, smiling at Chanticleer, "Therese will likely have you carrying rather a lot more than this. I can take it. Please, go on."
Chanticleer smiles wanly, and nods. "Thank you Frere." He tells the priest where the warehouse is, then rushes off to the other end of the merchant's quarter to find the houngan Froid Jacques, whom the children call 'Jack-o-Ice.'
Back at the hospital, Lisbet is drowsing off the dose of opiates given her by Pierce. Alg is slowly stirring, making little growling noises in his sleep and jerking his feet like a dog having a hunting dream. Suraksha sleepily notices Alg's motions. She reaches out to gently stroke his head, then realizes that's an awkward position... so she takes her pillow and sets it next to Alg, curls up next to him, and goes back to slowly stroking his slightly bristly fur. Her voice is low and reassuring, a soft and relaxed hum -- since she's still too sleepy herself to think of actual words to say. There's no one here who can tell her to stop, except for Gramma Marcie -- neither Roy nor Pierce are present, after all -- and Sulochana doesn't think the sidhe will tell her to quit comforting the goblin.
Alg relaxes as he's stroked and crooned to. He nestles against Suraksha and settles back into drugged sleep. Sna'tha says, "We need the sidhe, Jyotsana... and I believe he needs us."
Suraksha nods relaxedly to Sna'tha, murmuring sleepily, "Think he said he wan'ed t' come 'long, godsmama." She goes back to humming relaxedly to Alg -- it's surprisingly restful. She dreamily adds, "Hungry."
Gramma Marcie smiles slightly, "I have no doubt you are." She rises, giving every sign she's a frail old woman, and makes her way to the door to see if she can find someone to bring her godsdaughter some food. Pierce meets her at the entrance to the hospital. Sulochana croons quietly to Alg as she strokes him, trying to stay awake long enough to get some food into herself. She can use baby-talk here -- Alg is asleep, and there's no one to be shocked at the Hetaera behaving so.
Elsewhere, Froid Jacques is not hard to find. He works out of a rambling old house with many rooms and many doors, most of which are kept closed. The walls are painted with bright colors and symbols of his spirituality. To the uninitiated or simply the bigoted, the elaborate painting of a twining serpent which fills the wooden front door might seem sinister. To those that have some idea, it is a sign of Froid Jacques' dedication to Damballa. Chanticleer isn't terribly scared of Voudoun's domain; in some ways it's more welcoming than Christianity, but it's still more unsettling than some of the human faiths, since a chunk of it is based on Christianity. Still and all, he is never anything but polite and respectful to Froid Jacques. He knocks on the door, waiting for the houngan to answer.
Froid Jacques isn't long in answering. His hair is braided into heavy plaits that fall down his back to nearly his knees. The locks are intertwined with beads, dyed hemp, and small bones. A batik scarf holds them more or less in place and he wears a long, robe-like garment dyed a rainbow of colors with two intertwined serpents embroidered on it. One is blinding white, the other shimmering rainbow colors. He simply tips his head at Chanticleer curiously, without speaking. Chanticleer gets right to the point: "Someone has made some sort of really unwholesome Tap magic in a warehouse. We don't know what it does, or how to safely dispel it. King Roy sent me to ask you to please come and help, identify it and maybe stop it from whatever it's doing."
Froid Jacques says, "Tell me of it." His posture doesn't change. He doesn't look concerned or in a hurry. There's a reason he's called Jack-o-Ice. Chanticleer takes in a deep breath, and quickly but calmly -- Froid Jacques has that effect on people -- he describes the altar and the arrangement of bodies, and that a fifth body was soon to be added. He explains the direction of it, the age range of the victims, and the unnatural darkness.
Froid Jacques nods once and says, "Wait here," then closes the door on Chanticleer. It's an unusually quick reaction from the houngan, and he returns in very little time. Gone is the robe, replaced with trousers and moccasins and a white shirt. Over his shoulder is a rucksack embroidered with the white and rainbow serpents and smelling strongly of herbs. "Show me."
Chanticleer blinks -- that was a fast change! -- then nods. "I'll take you there, then I need to go to Mother Therese's and help her bring her things."
Froid Jacques nods, "We will stop on the way. The old woman will have much to carry." He walks at a pace which seems to be a stroll, but eats up a surprising amount of distance, much like a snake seems almost to move in slow motion. Chanticleer is quite surprised at the way Froid Jacques simply seems to take no time, and gets to Mother Therese's home so quickly. He mentally takes notes. It's visually impressive; sidhe are nothing if not impressed by visual tricks and glamour like that, even though it's not, strictly speaking, glamour. Still, he focuses. Not too much longer after, he is carrying the considerably panoply of Mother Therese, following along behind the Native shaman and the Voudoun houngan.
At the hospital, Pierce listens to Gramma Marcie and turns to a guard at the door, giving orders for food to be brought to Sulochana and the others. "I apologize it has taken so long. The man Droog was in poor shape. I came to check on Sulochana and see if she is in any shape to go back to the warehouse. Roy seems to think the various people he's sent for will want those of you that have seen the building to tell them what you've seen."
Suraksha looks up alertly at that, her interest piqued. She murmurs softly to Pierce, "Can Alg come in a litter?" She adds a bit sheepishly, "Sorry about, um, my poor aim at Droog."
Pierce smiles bleakly, "It is better that he's alive -- and the pain is his own doing. We can bring Alg along, yes, though knowing goblins, he won't have much to actually say about it."
Suraksha sits up carefully, pushing her heavy mane back out of her face, "Pardon? Whyso? Oh! You mean he won't speak much, right." She smiles down at the sleeping goblin, gently stroking his fur again, and murmurs, "That's all right. We'll take good care of him." She looks down at what she's wearing, then grins at Gramma Marcie, "Thank you for getting me my nightgown. Can you tell me where my bag is, and I'll change into day clothes before we go?"
Pierce says, "Because they aren't very articulate at the best of times. In pain or anger, they often forget to speak any tongue but their own."
Suraksha looks up with interest at Pierce, "They have their own native tongue? How marvelous!" She adds happily, "That should put the lie to those who say they're not smart!" She murmurs thoughtfully to Marcie, "Do you think... oh, maybe Ohkwari would be willing to come along as an arm to lean on?"
Pierce says, "It's not a terribly complex language, but they do speak amongst themselves. They are limited intellectually, but it wasn't meant for everyone to be brilliant. They have other gifts." Marcie nods and moves out of the room to bring the bag to Suraksha. Just after she's left, Roy comes in as well. Sulochana starts to change clothes, then blinks at sight of the king entering the room. She laughs softly, pulling a blanket modestly about her shoulders and murmuring a polite, "Your majesty. Thank you for the timely assist." She looks very young, curled up on the end of the bed next to the sleeping goblin, with a comforter wrapped around her and her tousled hair tumbling in a silky sable mass down her back.
Roy nods almost absently to Suraksha and looks at the sleeping goblin and then at Lisbet, lips thin with anger, "Thank you for being quick enough on the uptake to see something was amiss."
Suraksha smiles a bit ruefully, "Actually it was Chanticleer who first noticed, I think. Were it not for he and Alg, I suspect I'd have bled out by now from that knife aimed at my throat." She gently strokes the sleeping goblin, then looks up at Roy again, still smiling that slightly quirky smile.
Roy smiles, but it's a ghost of his normal smile, "They seem to be making a habit of saving you." He seems to realize he's interrupting something, "I am headed back to the warehouse. Chanticleer should have rounded up the folks I asked for soon."
Suraksha says, "I hear you'd like us to return to the warehouse, yes? Gramma Marcie is sending for someone from the caravan that I can lean on if necessary, and fetching me some food and clothing." She adds quietly, "I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I trust they'll receive accolades for such a habit, rather than the reverse, yes?"
Roy says, "Oh, definitely. I'm rather glad they've saved your lovely skin. I'll get out and let you continue getting dressed. I'm sure Pierce will want to prod you some more before ya'll come back down to Lafayette's place." Suraksha laughs softly and thanks the king again, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches him depart. She's just as glad he's left, though, before the food arrives -- she's starting to think she could eat a horse! ...or at least a big part of one.
Suraksha changes quickly into suitable clothing when Gramma Marcie returns with her bag and the news that someone has been sent to ask Ohkwari if he's available. When the food arrives, 'Chana devours it while Gramma Marcie adroitly shoos the page out -- it wouldn't do for anyone to realize one tiny girl is eating all the food brought for two or three. Once she's eaten, Pierce returns to check Sulochana and the others. He murmurs something about his eyes being tired as he looks over the drowsy girl and the goblin. After that the two of them are transferred to wheeled transportation: a gurney for Alg and a wheelchair for Suraksha -- and taken to an ambulance which takes them back to the docks.
Suraksha feels immensely better after eating! She's a little impatient with the wheelchair, and more interested in making sure the goblin is smoothly transported, but she doesn't prevent Pierce from doing his job, of course. She also cheerfully notes someone from the caravan should be arriving at the warehouse too, who can help should she become at all dizzy -- so Pierce shouldn't worry at all about her! Pierce seems a little unhappy it will be the nurse and not Pierce himself accompanying them, but he is mollified by mention that there will be someone there to help Sulochana if she tires. Suraksha wonders a bit curiously, on the way there, if one can get only one's eyes tired... could that be a symptom of the weird energy at the warehouse? She is not wild about the nurse either, after that nasty crack about Alg, but she remains politely silent at Pierce's decision.
The Frere is already at the warehouse when Chanticleer arrives with the other two clerics. He's walking around the building, sprinkling droplets from one of the skins of holy water around the building and intoning something solemnly in Latin. Roy arrives not long after Chanticleer. Okhwari is next, and the ambulance is last, having traveled quite slowly at Pierce's insistence. Suraksha is by that point quite ready to exit the clumsy, slow, rumbling vehicle! She bounces lightly out before it has even ground to a halt, airily assuring the nurse she's fine, stop worrying, it's Gramma Marcie and Alg who need the tender loving care! She lights up and waves at sight of the big bear-man, "Ohkwari! Thank you so much for coming! Can you lift someone out of here for me, please?" She smiles at Roy, tucking a curling strand of escaping hair behind her ear again as she adds, "Who will we be talking to about the warehouse, your majesty?"
Mother Therese directs Chanticleer where to put all the things she brought with her. She's had him haul rather a lot of things that might not be needed at all, but she wanted to have "just in case." Froid Jacques watches the priest and waits until the Frere is halfway around the building before he starts his own circle. From the rucksack, he produces a crock of salt and a large, docile snake. The snake goes around his shoulders like a stole and with the salt, he starts to make a circuit of the warehouse. He is also chanting, but the language is more fluid and less formal than the Latin.
Suraksha's eyes widen with interest at sight of the Froid, and she murmurs an interested, "Look, Ohkwari -- it's a priest of Damballah and, um... what's her name... Aida-something -- Aida-Wedo!" Chanticleer busies himself with helping Mother Therese, not at all adverse to hard work in getting this resolved. Suraksha looks interested again as she glances at the old woman, "Ooh! Is that one of yours, Ohkwa?"
Roy nods toward the warehouse and says, "The three holiest people I know of, ma belle." Therese had Chanticleer carry five rather heavy stones. She directs him to lay them out in a cross pattern, then uses colored sand to create a medicine wheel, laying several small things in the quarters of it. Most of them are wrapped in fur or leather. Okhwari blinks slowly at the old woman and rumbles, "Not mine, no, but she's got powerful medicine."
Suraksha nods interestedly to Ohkwa, then takes his hand and leads him over to Roy, "Ohkwa, this is his majesty King Roy of Baton Rouge. Your majesty, my caravan's packmaster, Ohkwari. He's kindly offered to be a support if necessary for me, should things get messy again." She grins, then adds, "We'll be right back! I want Alg to get lifted very carefully out of the ambulance so he's not jostled or upset." She pauses, then adds thoughtfully, "Actually... maybe it would be best to just let him rest for now, yes? At least until he's needed?"
Roy starts to say something, then nods when Suraksha mentions letting Alg rest. Sulochana beams at that, then whispers to Ohkwari that unless she's needed, she's going to go watch -- she's fascinated by the three clergy! Suraksha patters quietly around the building, cautiously searching for the houngan -- she's heard of but not actually seen snake worshippers. She wants to watch him, if she can without disturbing him.
Mother Therese peers up at Chanticleer as she lays her things out, "You saw what was in there?"
Chanticleer nods and describes it, the same as he had done for Frere Alfonse and Froid Jacques. "It didn't feel right," he adds a little uncomfortably, "not that I imagine anything like that could feel 'right.'"
Mother Therese nods, face unhappy, "That's powerful magic. Powerful. And very chaotic." She creaks to her feet and reaches for a bundle of herbs and a box of matches. Then she pauses, handing Chanticleer a knife made of black basalt, "The priest of Jesus, he uses water. The houngan, earth. I take air. This is fire. Walk the circle. Call on the gods. We work to contain this place." She lights the bundle and totters toward the building, using the huge, glossy wing of an owl to direct the smoke toward the building. She sings, a rise and fall of syllables that call back to entities as old as the land.
Chanticleer blinks to Mother Therese, accepting the knife. He thinks for a moment, then nods, letting out a breath. "It has been a while... but yes, I will." He waits until he is midway between the priest and the houngan, then begins around the circle, murmuring prayers to Brigid of the Candles in the quiet, musical tongue of High Court Sidhe. He pauses at the four cardinal points to ask her for her blessing and cleansing of what lies within the circle.
Suraksha stays out of the way of the clergy, watching with bright, fascinated eyes as she silently follows the houngan. Ohkwari looks indulgent as he follows her equally silently. The houngan, Froid Jacques, moves in a fluid, weaving crouch as he sprinkles the salt on the ground over the circle of holy water. Every couple of feet he crouches very low and touches the nose of the albino snake to the circle. He is no longer speaking, but hissing as he moves. Suraksha raises an interested eyebrow; the houngan now sounds like an angry snake! She tilts her head thoughtfully and continues watching and following.
Suraksha frowns thoughtfully, adjusting her initial impression. The hissing isn't so much angry... as warning. It's the hiss of a snake protecting its space and territory. She's fascinated again; clearly the houngan knows snakes quite well to be able to tell the difference. Sulochana wishes she could stroke the big albino snake. She thinks it's a python, but she's not sure. She'd have to be closer to tell for sure.
Roy stands back and watches the four people circling the building, wrapping it in protection of a completely non-physical sort. The circle they weave will keep as much out as it keeps in -- which could be a very, very good thing. Each of the clergy comes full circle and steps back from the building; Chanticleer is last to complete the circle. Everyone with the least bit of sensitivity to the leylines feels the surge of Tap energy that snaps into an energetic barrier around the building.
Suraksha does not presume on the king wanting her next to him, although she certainly won't warn him off if he's feeling protective -- here and now, she's happy to accept all the protection she can! She beams as she whispers to Ohkwari, standing on tiptoes to reach his ear, "The houngan, did you hear? It was a warning hiss, not an angry one! I want to see his snake closer, but I don't know anything about his religion -- do you? Would it be rude to ask to pet the snake?" The three clerics are speaking quietly together. Therese has not asked for the knife back from Chanticleer. After a moment the Frere motions Sulochana over, along with Roy. Sulochana looks both surprised and interested; she glances around to make sure it's her the priest is waving to, then glances at Roy to see if he's offering an arm.
Roy does indeed offer her an arm, murmuring, "Ma'am, allow me." The clerics are standing together and all looking solemn. They have kept Chanticleer with them. Suraksha beams cheerfully up at the king, murmuring her thanks as she takes his arm. They head over to the clergy, Sulochana's bright-eyed gaze flicking interestedly over all three clergy. Up close, she can see that the snake is definitely a python. It isn't full-grown yet, and is still quite enormous.
It's Froid Jacque who speaks, and when he does it's in a strangely lisping voice, as if his tongue doesn't fit his mouth correctly, "What your man tells us, Roi, is that there is an altar of death in there. Did you see it?" Suraksha's eyes widen slightly -- could the man have a bifurcate tongue? She watches him hopefully, wondering if his tongue will also flicker out. She remains silent, though, since it was the king who was so addressed.
Roy describes the altar. He gives the people that are spread around it names. The catholic priest crosses himself and murmurs, "Two of them were parishioners." Mother Therese says, "One was mine." The houngan's eyes flicker toward Suraksha as the big python nuzzles at his ear, and she catches sight of something extraordinary: the man's eyes have the slitted pupils and goldstone irises of a python.
Suraksha's tilted golden-green eyes widen, and she smiles -- could the houngan be a... distant relation? Or no, wait -- Damballah is a loa, and from her training she knows loas 'ride' people. Perhaps she's in the presence of a serpentine deity then! She politely bobs her head to the python and the ridden houngan, in respect to Damballah. She starts to raise her hand towards the big python, very much wanting to stroke the smooth-scaled form -- then she catches herself and puts her hand down again. As Fearsome Grandmother has sternly taught her: shouldn't be forward with a deity, minor or otherwise!
Froid Jacques smiles slowly at that, and there is a glimpse of a pointed, bifurcated tongue. The snake stretches outward until its tongue flickers against Suraksha's nose -- and then he curls back, coiling around Froid Jacques' shoulders. Suraksha laughs softly in spite of herself, watching fearlessly as the big python reaches for her face. She raises her hand to very gently rub under the big python's chin as he does so, smiling and murmuring, "You're very lovely... but you know that, don't you, sir?" She keeps her voice respectfully low, not wanting to interrupt the clergy.
Chanticleer thinks for a moment, then nods, "The animal sacrifices were a black goat, a black cat, a black puppy, a black bird, and," he shivers in spite of himself, "a black rooster." Suraksha's attention is yanked away by Chanticleer's words, her expression falling at the tragic little litany of murders.
All three clergy make some sign of blessing at that. The Frere says, "That's enough to drive the light out of a place." He smiles without humor, "A scientist would say that they used the deaths to literally drives away the particles of light." Froid Jacques nods, "The darkness that is not simply shadow." The sibilants are especially long coming form his mouth. Mother Therese says, "The black cock, it is something used by dark bokor. A sign of the evil one." There's a general nod from the various clergy. Froid Jacques turns toward Roy and says, "This was a curse on your house, king. And a curse on your house is a curse on your city. The man you have left alive may be the bokor."
Suraksha wonders thoughtfully if Fantine has any suggestions on ridding oneself of unwanted bokor. If this doesn't fix things, 'Chana will have to ask her. The big snake has coiled around so his head rests atop that of the houngan, tongue curling out to occasionally flicker against the spot right between his eyebrows where his third-eye sits. Roy nods, "Figgered it might be. Question is, what's t'be done 'bout it?" Suraksha glances up at Roy, her expression more solemn as Roy puts his finger on the true issue here... then she looks hopefully at the clergy.
Chanticleer murmurs, "I suspect merely killing him won't resolve it, and if he's prepared for that eventuality, might make things even worse?"
Suraksha nods at Chanti's words, then asks Roy, "Was his bag searched? What kind of weapon was it that he was going to shoot at me, that Alg broke?" She explains to the clergy, "He was fleeing -- the other two were headed to kill the maid," then corrects herself, "He was fleeing when the sound of fighting broke out, I mean." Then she adds slowly, "He... goodness, I think I understand! That's why he tried to slash my throat -- to shed the blood of the fifth sacrifice! So what he said then must be important, perhaps related to the curse, yes?" She looks inquiringly at the clergy and Roy.
Roy says, "Gun. Plain old goddamned gun." He reflexively adds, "Pardon me, padre."
The Frere smirks and says, "No, Roy, I believe he did indeed damn guns." Froid Jacques says, "We have it contained. But it will take some work to unravel this working -- and possibly some information... and blood... from the bokor." The houngan, shaman, and priest look intently at Suraksha, and the old woman asks, "What did he say?"
Suraksha thinks for a moment, closing her eyes... then she says slowly, "When he was slashing at my throat, he was laughing crazily, and he screamed-" she opens her eyes, "he screamed, 'fuck you, freak-loving bitch.'" She adds politely, "Pardon me. I thought accuracy important," then glances up at Roy, adding wryly, "Apparently your tolerance to the, um... supernatural is not beloved by all in this city. I believe Moynahan's men were similarly... disenchanted with your guards the other night." She considers another moment, then thoughtfully says, "I am no expert on these matters... but I would suggest shedding yet more blood might actually help the bokor here? Rather than us?" She makes a mental note: definitely must talk to Fantine about this!
Roy's eyes are cold, almost glacial, "I believe you may be right. My household is quite varied; that might be the key. If they couldn't have one of my house..." Froid Jacques' sibilant voice says, "They would take one who was friendly to your house." Suraksha nods silently to the Froid.
Chanticleer says quietly, "But to what end?"
Jacques smiles, and there are a few too many teeth, "Blood is life energy. Having some of it from the one that wrought this abomination can allow us to understand it. Unravel it." Mother Therese says, "We do not intend to sacrifice him. Just a drop or three." Suraksha nods slowly, her expression worried... but she says nothing. This is indeed not her field of expertise.
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