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[OoC]Bwahahahahaaaaa! Phix nearly had a harem! Recipes for Sphinx! Oh my stars! ROFLMAO[/OoC]

"Here, Kitty Kitty," I damn near pee'd my pants!!!! I can see that, an enraged Englishman crooking a finger to a creature that can open a battle tank with her teeth! For the rest of eternity, Neil will taunt her with that!!!

John's headache was finally subsiding. He was able to breathe without his skull feeling like it was being slowly pulled apart by several winches. "Alright... I think I can take a little more."
Monica nodded, held out her hand for John to grab, and poited them to the next location - a sandstone spire towering over a world of clouds. Surrounding them on all sides and below was the largest single structure John had ever seen. "What... What is that?" He carefully stepped to the edge of the spire, looking down. Below him was a huge dome, rather similar to the Pantheon of Rome, but several times larger. The spire seemed to come out of the oculus in the dome. To his left was a glass and metal tower that didn't so much as scrape the sky as pierce it.
Heh... It should be called the Hendrix Tower...
To his right was a massive red stoned masonry building, built without a single clump of mortar. Immense obelisks towered nearly as high as the spire of rock John was currently standing on. The air was fairly pure and clean, but smellier than the filtered and scrubbed air in the server room.
"That," Monica grinned, "is the Library. Well... Some of it."
"Woah..." John had learned about the library while in the Hole... But this was... Spectacular. Buildings and complexes extended to the horizon, fading into the distant haze. "I can't wait to explore that from..." He caught Tepoz's raised eyebrow. "Right. Fire and books don't mix well."
He enjoyed the view for a few more moments before they moved on.
A bare mountain summit, a cold desert, a frozen tundra, a snowy plain, a barren lava plain, a remote beach, a fast-flowing river...
They teleported for several hours, sometimes having to stop somewhere to think of the next place to go that would help John... It took nearly all day to get him to the point where he could return to his apartment.
Monica poited him inside and John stood stock still, struck dumb.
"What's wrong?"
"I... Don't remember." John shook his head, his eyes closed tight. "This feels like someone else's apartment."
"Oh... Do you... Do you remember anything from... Before?" Monica spoke gently.
"Just the... Big stuff. I remember my mom and dad... And one aunt. I know I had more... But I can't remember their phone numbers or addresses... Are we in a city?"
"Yes... Chicago."
"The big one in... Illinois?"
Monica gave him a sad look. "This is pretty bad, John... Let's see if we can't jog your memories a bit."
They rummaged through John's apartment, but it didn't do much to help. He didn't have any pictures of family or friends... His laptop was locked, but his lockbox, fire-resistant though it may be, wasn't fire-proof. John carefully issued a tiny, hot jet of flame to burn and me,t the lock until he and Monica could pry the safe open, revealing a stash of official papers. A passport, birth certificate, social security card... And a small box, about a fourth of the size of an average shoebox. In it were some photos... A sunset over a peaceful lake, a young John in a karate gi, a picture of John, smiling, with what seemed to be friends of his... And then a photo of John and his family on a sailboat in Florida...
John felt hollowed out. "I... I think I kept these photos to... Remind me why I worked to keep crime out of my town."
"You used to talk about this stuff early on in your training." Monica nodded. "The sunset and the friends were what helped you the most."
"And then I forgot." John bowed his head, slowly placing the photos back into the little box. "These don't belong to me anymore... I've changed too much. Just like none of these clothes are of any use to me... Neither is any of this. I... Can't go back."
"John, those are your friends and family..."
John shook his head. "Hardly... I can't be that person to them anymore... It isn't a case of not wanting to do that work. I actually can't pull that off." John closed the box and placed it back in the safe and stood, pocketing the government papers. "Let's keep going. Just... Take me into the city... Chicago, I mean, then a farm. Preferably a pig farm. If I can handle that, I'll be ready for anything."
Monica nodded silently, grabbed John's arm, and teleported.

Sound assailed John as they emerged from an alleyway into downtown Chicago. The stench of exhaust, fuel, trash, concrete, asphalt, and steel made his head pound for a few minutes, and he was reluctant to breathe too deep, but he eventually adapted. Monica got tired of the strange looks John was getting in his cloak, so she took him to a Goodwill for a cheap pair of jeans, some plain shoes, and a scratchy sweater to get him through the day... He would earn the rest of his new wardrobe later. The pig farm made John dizzy, but he managed to stay conscious and standing with the help of an extremely convenient fence post. Once he was able to breathe and not want to immediately gag, John nodded to Monica, who was only slightly less displeased with the stench of the farm.
The next poit took John back to the large room with the large table, but it wasn't empty. It appeared breakfast was being consumed... To a great many completely unfamiliar faces... And a few familiar ones.
Everyone's heads snapped to see Monica and the newcomer. Most wore questioning expressions. One, a young-looking man who was clearly not young at all, had an appraising look. Brandi and Bud both recognized John... Although Bud was taken aback by something about him. An older man and a decidedly rumpled-looking hooded youth seemed to know him as well to some extent.
"Um... Good morning?"

Glytch quickly dressed and went to the main room for breakfast, his body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline from his rude awakening. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he shambled to the serving area and, as per usual, piled his plate high with scrambled cheesy eggs, sausage, bacon, seasoned hash browns, and four pancakes - complete with plenty of butter and syrup... Then went back to fill one large glass each with Orange juice and milk.
Breakfast was, after all, the most important meal of the day.
He ate in silence, focused on the multitude of tasks before him. Make the office navigable... Maybe one of the Alexanders has some old cardboard boxes I can use for that. Figure out how to wake up easily... An air horn? Something very loud and very annoying... And the security system... I need to talk to Stan, figure out what sort of hardware and software I'm dealing with there. Might have to patch things together, work out some adaptations between my setup and his.
His train of thought was suddenly derailed by the appearance of Monica and... a guy who didn't quite match John's description.

For one, he was way too tall... Somewhere around seven feet tall, with a long, tangled mane of black hair, and haunted, sunken eyes that seemed to glow. His skin looked like a projector was shining strange, swirling red patterns from the inside. And he was waaay to physically fit - this wasn't a former vigilante. This was someone who has spent a great amount of time and energy honing himself like a blade.
"Um... Good morning?" The man said.
His voice was low and rough, and his feet were shoulder-width apart, planted firmly on the floor. His clothes were... Minimal, and he held a strange black cloak over one arm... It was impossibly black... Glytch was momentarily mesmerized by the spots that danced in his eyes whenever he looked at the cloak.
"You aren't John, are you?"
"John Smith? That's my name. I'm not so sure I'm the same person."

{I am writing as though Al had gone to the library BEFORE helping to wake Glytch (the character) up:

Al's Serious Triple
Al comes back with coffee
Al and Sarge wake Glytch up
John arrives

That's how I think the morning chronology is going...}

I doth chortle and slightly chuckle as well as Tina rises to the rescue...

{DInky And I are working together on the next sequences - so where you see my name, read both}

Now feeling like an outsider... worse, a rogue, Emerauld shadowstepped into the manor and sensing the monster, decided it would be the most likely place they would find this.

Tying the scroll to the door handle with shaking hands, she crept out, quashing a pang of guilt and longing. So much power...none of which she should want but she did.

The contents of the scroll read:

To Al:

Forgive my intrusion yet again, but I need to speak to the Matriarch...and to you. To prevent further discomfort to all, I have warmed a clearing out of earshot. If she agrees, grasp her hand and light the scroll. Step into the portal that appears. If she does not agree, I shall leave, and ask that you deliver a bundle to Glytch. He will know what to do with it.

Forever in your debt,

To'ryll D'rathmir

Vanishing in the shadows, she returned to camp to pack.

Breakfast over and two cups of good coffee under his belt, Al was feeling physically contented, but the events of early morning preyed upon his mind still. While he was functional and able to compartmentalize away the pain, the clashing thoughts would not go away. Thinking a bit of meditation might produce some tranquility, Al headed back for his room and a quiet patch of carpet in the sunlight.

Tied to the doorknob was an object.

Untying it with shaking hands, Al read the words upon the vellum. What in the name of the gods was that damned elf playing at? After this morning none of it made any sense. Al’s first thought was to simply destroy the parchment and damn the elf to the hell of her own making – he no longer cared to indulge her hateful venting on him over his career. Velg’larn he might have been, but stupid he never was.

None of this made sense.

As this was addressed to both of them, however, he didn’t feel that making a unilateral move was the right thing to do, no matter how much Daisy would no doubt have approved. With the scroll tucked under his arm, he headed back to the kitchen – Rosalita would know where her mistress was – she always did.

The trip was shorter than expected, though. Al emerged into the great room to find Daisy organizing the staff presence for the day. Waiting patiently, she finished her work and saw Al, smiling..then sobering as she saw the look on his face.

Al was angry – every time this woman saw him, she was having pain inflicted on her by circumstance. After this was all over, perhaps he should get away and leave her in peace. It was the only decent thing to do.

The touch of her hand dispelled all thought of leaving as she took his hands and looked into his eyes. “Now what?” she asked – not accusatory but understanding the turbulence in his visage.

“I found this on the door of my – our – room. It’s insane. I don’t understand. Please explain this to me, if you can. Is this a paranormal thing that I don’t understand?”

Reading the scroll, Daisy was as mystified as Al was. Not having dealt with paranormals like elves of any kind, Daisy was not sure what it meant either. Did Emerauld want to try and hurt them again – if so why? Hadn’t she done enough damage already?

“I don’t get it either. Let’s just destroy the scroll and be done with it. You don’t need to give her another crack at you with her spiteful nonsense.“ Daisy worried that another dose of bile might finish off what self-esteem Al had left – and that she feared, after hearing him after the meeting this morning.

“No, we can’t do that. To be blunt we need her. She’s here for Safyr, and Safyr is way too much power to lose. If we lose one, we likely lose both, and that’s unacceptable to our total rank strength.” This was Al the warrior talking – and she knew he was right.

“Do you have a coat? No? Here, put this on.” Al handed Daisy his leather coat, and walked back to his room for a wooly jumper and windbreaker – that would do as well for the time needed.

They stepped out onto the porch of the manor, looking at the day. Al turned to Daisy and asked, “Are you ready?”

Daisy turned, the light of anger already glowing in her eyes, and said “Let’s go see what the damned elf wants.” Daisy linked arms with Al standing to his right, and Al held the scroll in his right hand. Reaching into his left pocket he pulled out an ancient Zippo lighter with the 1 Para badge on it, struck the flint with the wheel and applied the resulting flame to the scroll.

The flame ate the vellum like a living thing, and the heavy smoke swirled in a circle, growing larger and larger till it became a six-foot circle. Giving Daisy a peck on the cheek, Al said “Off to see the Wizard, love" and they stepped through the circle of smoke, which collapsed after them.

Unattended, the remains of the scroll burned to ash on the porch, its purpose complete.

"Xunus dos ssrig'luin uns'aa ulu zexen'uma...er...Did you need me to stay?"

"No, I need to make this right before they send you away because I did not think."

"I do not believe it would come to that. These humans are influenced by Phix."

"I will not chance it."

"Very well, though in the shadows I shall remain. The Centaur dam is ablaze with rage. I will not lose you to that. I know you well, but unless your life in endangered, I will remain hidden."

"I wish you wouldnt, but I know you well."

With that, she drew from the leylines the wild energies she would need to warm the pond, and a prayer to keep her spell up until this was over.

Emerauld sensed that the scroll had been activated – her punishment and its executors were coming. Finishing quickly the task in hand she awaited those she had offended.

The place was perfect for their meeting – a place they could speak, neutral to all, and one that time would heal from the trauma of the heart.

While she waited, she tried to still her mind. Her actions this morning had been those of the insane thing she once was – but different in that the violence she inflicted had been on the mind not the body. The man had not deserved what she’d done, nor had his mate needed to soothe his damaged soul.

She had offended against both in more ways than simple violence. She had caused pain that would not heal, wounds that could not be bandaged and added insult to simple injury on top of it.

They came now – time to face the consequences of her actions. Emerauld saw the circle forming – the travel smoke from the scroll. Twenty feet away but facing it, she dropped to one knee and bowed over it – assuming the posture of a supplicant. She wondered if she would be allowed to speak and try to right the wrongs she had committed.

The smoke formed thick and solid – then Al and Daisy stepped through, linked arm in arm. Blinking with the change of light they stopped, focusing on the figure kneeling in the debris of the forest floor.

Emerauld spoke first, tilting her head up so they could hear her though averting her eyes from their gaze.

“May I stand?”

Daisy and Al looked at each other, neither initially ready to speak. Al said, “She wants to talk to you – that’s what this is focused on. It‘s your boon to grant.”

Daisy, eyes like flint and demeanor no less rigid, said “Stand. Stay back – after your games this morning trust is not something you get.” With that, Emerauld rose slowly, eyes still downcast.

“Look at us. I want to look into the eyes of the creature that nearly made him take his own life.”

Emerauld looked up. In Al’s eyes she saw the pain of hopelessness, of despair, of the loss of truths he held dear – of the loss of self in loss of pride.

In Daisy’s eyes she saw hatred – implacable hatred – the hatred of a dam seeing her mate wounded in a way he might never recover from - hatred of the dam seeing her mate’s tormentor in front of her.

The glowing runes now extending to her wrists hidden by gloves and bracers, she began to speak.

"I have come to beg forgiveness...and to find elsewhere to stay if you find you cannot.

Forgive me, Lady. Unintended, I have harmed someone under your care, worse, it has come to me that it's your Mate, which is unforgiveable.

Let me begin at the smallest of my offenses and work my way through – then we can speak of retribution.”

“Stop there. Just stop there.” Daisy’s voice shook with emotion – the emotion Al would never express. “How can you stand there and just mouth words and expect it all to be better?”

Emerauld cringed internally. This was not going to go well, and it was already worse than she thought it could be. :”My lady, words are all I can express myself with. They’re all I have.” With that said, Daisy subsided, but her anger was evident.

“Least important though still wounding, my offense regarding the weapon’s name. I now know what 'the Rose of England' means. Al, please forgive my rudeness regarding Cryso. Symbolically, it is about justice, is it not?”

Al nodded, this bald, frank apology was ripping open the barely-knitted scars from this morning again. Seeing this in his eyes as she looked between the two people, Emerauld plunged on.

“What you were and what I was – were very different things.

Because of what I was, I have a geas.

I was once at a crossroads, and at that time I made…choices. These choices were not good ones, and from that crossroads, I went into darkness – darkness that my sister eventually rescued me from, and healed me.

Because of my choices, the gods laid upon me the geas I spoke of. When I encounter those who are at a crossroads, I must speak, and do not always have clarity of thought if my Sight is ignored. It brought back evils I thought exorcised long ago.

When you came to me with Glytch I thought you one at the same crossroads, and I was forced to act.

When you asked in the name of family, I had to give you what you asked for, and show you the price that comes of abusing power. In my...previous encounters with humans, I had to scare them. Power was too great a temptation.

Had I looked at you with the Sight, I would have known. I was angry because I desired this weapon. Its power sang to me. So I lashed out in anger and pain...and for that which you are blameless.”

“Why – why didn’t you use your Sight? It couldn’t have been simple greed.” Al stammered this out almost reflexively. Like the engineer he was, he had to analyze a failure to ensure it didn’t happen again.

“It was not just the greed and desire for the weapon – it was also the nature of my gods gift to me of the Sight. If I do not focus, the Sight is not clear. Some times, though I try, it does not work at all. The gods are capricious in allowing the use of their gifts.

Since then, I feel naught but your despair...and her rage. You...are not me. Your sins...are nothing like mine. I've wounded you more fully than had I struck you with Safyr’s arrows. Forgive me.”

Emerauld continued, speaking slowly and deliberately as if each word was harming her throat.

“Here, because of the harm I have done, I grant you a choice.

You may forgive, and allow me to remain. Or, you may send me away to wander alone. There is no one else that would have me, because of what I am. In either case my sister will remain to help you in your troubles, so the thought of losing her need not affect your decision.” Emerauld said this loudly, knowing Safyr lurked in the woods within earshot. She was binding them both to the decision, but she felt she had no choice but to do so. The reckoning would come on that later, no matter how this conversation was completed.

Al, guiltily, reflected on the conversation they’d had just before coming here. Emerauld was no fool, and did understand quite well the realities of the situation. Looking at Daisy he could see the slight changes in her posture that said she, too, remembered the conversation. As Daisy was about to speak, Al interrupted.

“Let it go, love. Hate breeds hate, and pain breeds pain. Better it dies here and now. There’s been enough anger, enough hate, enough pain.” Al wanted nothing more than to let this all die, and let his self-esteem reassemble itself. He’d been too close to the edge with this one – far too close indeed to stay anywhere near it. Only by letting this go could he hope to survive and be himself again.

Daisy, eyes wild in her face, turned facing Al. “Why? WHY? Why should YOU suffer alone? Why should WE?“ With that she threw herself at Al, clinging desperately while bitter sobs escaped her throat.

Standing sadly apart, Emerauld spoke to the couple. “I have my answer – there is no forgiveness for my kind. I will be gone, soon, and you will never see me again.”

Still cradling his wounded, weeping love, Al said, “No. You will not be released from your sin that easily.

You have hurt me – badly. It will be many years before I can face myself again with the peace I used to. You must take a lesson from this – the way you feel for and of yourself has nothing to do with what you do and how you treat others.

For one with Sight, you are sometimes blind. You see humans and it causes you pain because of your family. You stay near them, you try and help them, but sometimes the help is poisoned by what you once were.

Had you been able to use your Sight we could all have been spared this. I will never be the same, and my love has seen things in me she never needed to.

Stay. Protect your sister. Spend time with the young ones here and learn from them. Learn that a being is a being - no more and no less. Be with them and let their actions help you see what you must without colouring it with your old hatreds.

We are going to go home, so leave us alone and just stay out of our sight. I need to take my dam home and tend the wounds you’ve created.”

With soft words and gentle help Al got Daisy into his arms. A trifle unsteadily, and slowly, Al made for the house a half-mile away. Emerauld, too, disappeared, leaving the clearing with its little pond empty again.

With her departure, the power faded, and the wilted brown leaves stirred in the wind.

---

The snow didn't even stop the construction crew, as they were working from below, and the Mississippi was still running quickly enough not to be frozen. The temps were a bit brisk for Jacob's "swim team", as he sometimes jokingly called them.

The fill that had been used for the old cistern was definitely substandard. They would use some material that would be hardened by water - not softened.

Meanwhile, with the water no longer standing in the old warehouse, Jacob's werekin were busy at completely rebuilding the facility into what it had been intended - a reception hall that would be fit for any occasion.

Especially for the granddaughter of an Apotropaic Sphinx.

---

The weekend before Thanksgiving was even tougher for retail workers. All the major stores were trying to outdo their competition by having outrageous deals on limited-stock items. And when sales clerks had to explain that they were all out of those new 50" screen curved TV's...

Mori had only heard the stories from some of her older co-workers. The one remembered when she broke her arm when there was a shoving match last year over the last Xbox 360. Another recalled seeing two women openly fighting over a Fisher-Price toy set. Another gal, who worked at the store's Starbucks outlet, recalled when a woman used a LEGO Millenium Falcon set as a bludgeon so she could get to the front of the line.

Unfortunately, Mori was going to be working at the Bloomington Target on Black Friday. And she was already wishing she could bring a sword.

Her break over, she returned to her checkout. An older gentleman handed her a Target At Home 20-piece Utensil Set - and a Registry List. Mori rolled her eyes a bit, then ran the scanner over the utensils, then the list. She hardly took a second glance at the names, but simply took the old coot's cash.

"Thank you for shopping at Target," she said. The next customer was already putting down their goods when the name of the gift receipt suddenly registered in her brain: Wahnee. Isn't that...

Isn't she...

Wasn't she...

Wasn't I...

She suddenly found herself staring straight ahead, looking at the red Target logo on the plastic bags of the stand next to her aisle.

"Uh, excuse me? Miss? I'd prefer plastic?"

Morin shook her head, almost comically, like in an old Warner Brothers cartoon.

"Huh what huh... OH! Uh, yes, plastic?"

Morin continued on with her checkout duties...

===

(Morin, you ask? Who's she? Ask Phix...)

Holy heck! I've managed to actually catch up with you guys!! Now watch me fall 5 pages behind over the weekend.

Julie wrote:Holy heck! I've managed to actually catch up with you guys!! Now watch me fall 5 pages behind over the weekend.

I'm part of writing this and I've fallen way behind...

jwhouk wrote:

Julie wrote:Holy heck! I've managed to actually catch up with you guys!! Now watch me fall 5 pages behind over the weekend.

I'm part of writing this and I've fallen way behind...

Oh shadup you...

Stan pulled up in front of Mucho Mocha and went inside...

TazManiac wrote:

jwhouk wrote:

Julie wrote:Holy heck! I've managed to actually catch up with you guys!! Now watch me fall 5 pages behind over the weekend.

I'm part of writing this and I've fallen way behind...

Oh shadup you...

Stan pulled up in front of Mucho Mocha and went inside...

I STARTED this whole messugnah mess, and I can't keep up with it!!!

Sgt. Howard wrote: I STARTED this whole messugnah mess, and I can't keep up with it!!!

I seem to remember this was all about a wedding or something...

Weddong? What wedding?

Who cares - this is the best damn house party EVER!

More seriously, it is difficult to tell the players without a scorecard, but it is moving along nicely.

"Should we tell them we just went to the Library, got Nicodemus and poited to Vegas?"

"No, no, let's let them twist in the wind for a few more days. Besides, Rosalita's Huevos Rancheros are divine."

There where a few patrons being served at the counter, by the time Stan got to the head of the line he could see it wasn't Becky after all holding down the fort, rather it was a young lady of medium hight and raven, shoulder length hair, w/ a scarlet streak in it down over her right eye...

TazManiac wrote:There where a few patrons being served at the counter, by the time Stan got to t he head of the line he could see it wasn't Becky after holding down the fort, rather it was a young lady of medium hight and raven, shoulder length hair, w/ a scarlet streak in it down over her right eye...

Who the blathering frogwarts is this?