Asolus

[Phelix-Mu]

Asolus: The Edge


https://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/xVy6QuLYaVw4fH45ZVeuqC-970-80.jpg.webp


Sound, unhearing.

Light, unseeing.

Time, unturning.

This is the in-character thread for the Asolus cooperative narrative play-by-post game.

Asolus-Out-of-Character-Thread (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?639223-Asolus-Out-of-Character-Thread)

Asolus-Dice-Rolls (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?639264-Asolus-Dice-Rolls)

[Phelix-Mu]

Steep, sloping hills ascending towards the mountain wood.
A cabin sits at their peak.

From a great tree hangs an aging swing.
From which one could let go and fall to the lake below.

Sunrise shines into the loft.
A tall young man stirs one last time and opens his eyes.

Climbing down a ladder he enters a small room.
Axe, whetstone, rope.
Water jug, kettle, coffee beans.

Perched above a wood stove the kettle sings its tune.
He pours a cup and steps outside.

Crossing the yard he runs a hand along the great tree and sits on the swing.
He gazes at the lake, watching the sun's reflection upon it.

Raised to his lips, he drinks from the mug.
And another day begins.

Name: Emanon
Body: Human
Keywords:
Dominant SPecies: Three stacks (Free passes against) of resistance to dread decreases: Three remain.
Hard to keep down
Strongarms
Attribute Order:
Strength
Perception
Reaction
Intellect
Dread: 10
Affinities:
Serenity: A tendency to avoid the anxieties of isolation. 1
Mindfulness: Practiced awareness of one's needs. 1
Possessions:
Woodcutting and wilderness living paraphernalia, cabin.


Arthur has been diligently following the limited paper trail of his older brother, having gradually narrowed the general area where he might have settled down. Remembering a portion from the letter, he finds himself drawn to Mirror Lake when looking over a map of the region and decides to start his search in the closest village.


Arthur,

You might have seen this coming. I don’t want you to worry about me, I’ll be okay. I just couldn’t live like this any more. Hopefully I’ll find some place with a view of sun glitter where I can be happy.

DO NOT LOOK FOR ME. It had to be done. If I’d just left, it would only have become your problem. Try to live normally if you can, I’m sure you’ll manage better than I would.

I’m sorry to leave you with this. Please don’t think it’s your fault. You aren’t a burden, I don’t resent you and I never have. You have a future ahead where you can choose the life you lead. Don’t let that pass you by, and don’t take it for granted.

I love you, goodbye.

Name: Arthur
Body: Human
Keywords:
Dominant Species: Three nullifiers which resist Dread. (3/3)
Flexible
Lithe
Attribute Order:
Intellect
Perception
Reaction
Strength
Dread: 10/10
Affinities:
Processing: Aptitude for information analysis in stable circumstances. 2
Diligence: Capable of persistent effort for extended tasks. 2
Possessions:
Rucksack (Regional Map, victuals, first aid kit, thermal sleeping bag, flashlight, utensils, Old Letter)
Notebook (contains notes about the area)
Car repair tools, spare tire
Pistol with a spare magazine

Car: An aging, silver gray coupe with several scratches and rust patches.


Name: Aura
Attribute Order:
Reaction (6)
Perception (7)
Intellect (8)
Strength (9)
Body Type: Oni
Keywords:
Clan by Rite (species keyword)
Fast Hands
Dancer’s Feet
Dread: 7/10
Affinities:
Bodyguard (2): Skill at placing self between threats and object or person being guarded.
Tattooed (Dragon) (5): This tattoo functions as a graft.
Possessions: Shoulder Sling Pack (Ninja Rations, Kunai (3), Incense, Fancy Lighter, Notepad, Fountain Pen), Motorcycle with Rear-Mounted Travel Box, Japanese-style Short Sword and Sheath, Automatic Pistol with Extended Mag, Holster Suspenders, spare mags (2).



Name: Pulse
Attribute Order:
Perception (6)
Intellect (7)
Strength (8)
Reaction (9)
Body Type: Oni
Keywords:
Clan by Blood (species)
Sensitive Horn (hearing)
Dark Bargain (unclanned)
Dread: 10/10
Affinities: Healer 3, Familiar (Snake) 3
Possessions: Small snakes (3), Large venomous serpent, Jagged Knives (2), Pipe, Medicinal Herbs, Electrical Firestarter, Stout Rope (20’), Multi-Purpose Tactical Grenade Launcher, Incendiary Grenades (3), Smoke Grenades (5), Flashbang (3), Frags (3), Non-Lethal Stun Gun.


Name: Brass
Attribute Order:
Strength (6)
Intellect and Reaction (7.5)
Perception (9)
Body Type: Oni
Keywords:
Clan by Blood (species)
Weighted Blows
Brass-Blooded
Dread: 10/10
Affinities: Bodyguard 3, Hand-to-Hand Combat 2, Non-Lethal Combat 2
Possessions: Tactical pump-action shotgun (bean-bag rounds, slug rounds, breach rounds), collapsible metal nightstick, dragonbone knife, bulletproof steel attache case, rations, powdered dragon milk, powdered protein supplement,
Skin Color: Orange-Red
Horns: Two thick, red, upcurved, above temples, aimed forward.
Hair: Long, white, gathered into a single ponytail at the rear.
Description: Tall, muscular woman with large bust, favors layer of tight-fitting clothing under formalwear, not afraid to get naked, not afraid to throw down, never-back-down attitude to work and life.


Name: Ink
Attribute Order:
Perception and Intellect (6.5)
Reaction (8)
Strength (9)
Body Type: Oni
Keywords:
Clan by Blood (species)
Personable
Dissociative Personality
Dread: 9/10
Affinities: Clan Intelligence 3, Tattooed(5), Driver 2
Possessions: SG 550 Assault Rifle (High-zoom scope, suppressor, high-capacity double-clip mags), sleeve blade, concealable knives, hold-out pistol, european-made high-end sedan (V8, turbo-charged, selectable gearbox, armored and bullet-proof glass), backpack, audio recording device, small camera, digital storage device, rations, flask of gin.
Description: Variable

[Phelix-Mu]

(also reserved for character details index)

[Phelix-Mu]

(miscellaneous reserved)

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 1

Post #0001: Emanon’s Intro
Emanon is startled as the silence of the gathering evening is pierced by a familiar, ringing sound. Spring was yet newly-come to these hills, with a few lingering patches of dirty snow clinging to the shade beneath the larger oaks and aspen trees around the lake. When the sun dipped behind the mountain ridge to the west some fifteen minutes ago, a numbing chill had replaced the warming rays of the spring sun. Now, the shadows around the lake had sprung up quickly, rising into twilight like a vast basin filling with darkness.

The unexplained ringing was as though someone had grabbed a triangle chime off of its stand and tossed it down a set of concrete stairs, but the sound oddly seemed both closeby and distant whenever it caught the man’s attention. And no sooner did it start this time, than it is suddenly gone again, replaced by an even more smothering sense of silence that has followed and risen with the deepening twilight.


Faint moonlight through the loft's only window illuminates his hand as he strikes a match and lights a lantern. Grasping its handle and sliding out of his bedroll, standing to reveal his form in the dim light: tall, well built and muscular with beaver brown hair and a slightly tense look. He descends the loft’s ladder and briefly observes the contours of his cabin, grabbing a carving knife off his workbench.

First gazing into the blackness of night through his windows before taking a deep breath and exiting his cabin, he walks out onto what one might call his lawn and shouts into the dark.

“Whoever you are, I ask that you make yourself known! If you need help finding the village or require more serious attention then say so! If not, please make silent haste away from this place!”


The glare of Emanon’s lantern seems to serve only to obscure his own vision, as the pool of light is all too small, the night’s inkblot-darkness giving no quarter. He feels a strange, cottony numbness in his ears; the loudest sound the man hears is, by far, his own heartbeat.

A long moment passes, but there is neither sight nor sound of anything nearby.


And thus he turns his back on the expansive void of night, retreating into the cramped coziness of his cabin. Fully aware he’ll be unable to sleep amidst the moment’s lingering tension he lights a fire in the stove and begins to brew himself some tea.

The tea does much to calm the man’s nerves as he lingers by the warming presence of the wood stove; by the time a few hours have passed without further noise, he even feels the first hints of sleepiness returning to his…

...Emanon lurches forward suddenly and finds himself blinking away a deep, heavy sleep. He must have sat down at some point and fallen asleep for quite some time and is unusually disoriented for a few moments after waking. The flames of the stove have cooled, though the light cast by the embers still throws small shadows through the slits of the air vent behind the kettle.


As he regains his mental balance, Emanon reflects on the night's events and decides to revive the flames, unable to shake a sense of dread from his heart. Once the cabin is warm and lit, he takes his woodcutter's axe from its perch and reenters the loft, orange firelight streaming in from below. Crawling back into his bedroll, he takes one last look out of the loft's sole window before closing his eyes and resolving to rest.

Emanon wakes to a darkened sky. Out the window, he can see angry clouds piling up down in the valley and rising up over the hills, a bank of dark gray rising like an unwelcome tide.

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 9.)

He’s seen this pattern before, and expects that this day will bring spring snow, enough to make his usual trek down into town difficult. There’s maybe a few hours before it really starts coming down, though.

The gears start to turn; It’s the beginning of the month, which means both uncertain weather and food insecurity. He knows that, if rationed, he’ll last just until next week. The lion's persistence being what it was this year means he can’t count on safe travel. On the other hand the round trip is close to five hours by which time the snow will start to come down, carrying with it the risk of slippery terrain. Either option could end badly, yet one is more immediately fatal. If worse comes to worse, he could always make a break on foot, although he carried some small pride about having never needed to before.

In the end, he dresses like normal, brews himself some coffee and exits his abode to take advantage of the remaining hours in a smaller way by preparing a spare batch of firewood.

Emanon knows just the spot, too. About a month ago, just as the thaw was beginning in earnest, a late ice storm frosted the terrain in a thick layer of ice. With the ground waterlogged and the extra weight from the ice, a pair of large maple trees had tumbled over in a nearby area where he’d selectively cut some other trees a while back. Since the trees were already down, he could focus on cutting the trunk into movable sections, then take a couple lengths back to the cabin in the truck for splitting and stacking. The winter months had chewed through most of the reserves he’d stacked up during the fall. With scarce chances to gather more during the winter, he was lucky the recent days were warm enough to not need the fire going full-tilt all day and night. But he need only look up to see the slate-gray clouds as they continued to gather for evidence that such luck can vanish overnight.

Sliding on his jacket, gloves and hat, he jumps into the truck and turns the key… The engine stalls.

Quite fickle aren’t you, lady luck?

Once again, twice, three times the charm. As it finally sputters to life Emanon contemplates how even if he’d decided to rush to town the whims of fate would have forced his hand.

Maybe it’s time I get a new truck, not that I have the money for it.

A short drive of ten minutes down a path of unthawed mud brought him to his prize. Unsheathing his axe, he begins breaking the stump, allowing his mind to wander in lieu of the familiar stimuli. His thoughts return to the previous night. He wants to be embarrassed at himself for being so scared by a simple bump in the night, but he’s unable to shake a sense of dread, the memory of the sound causing him to lose focus. Thus, he props his axe and himself against the fallen maple, staring up at the gloomy sky.

Howls, crashes, what sounded like screams, never heard ringing though.

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 2

As if on command, that same ringing noise fills Emanon’s ears, then goes on to fill his head, as though his skull was a beehive full of agitated bees. No source of the sound is evident in the clearing with the two fallen maples, but as he looks around, a cold, half-frozen rain begins to fall. Within moments, the rain’s pace has gathered to a crescendo, no longer half-frozen, but adding the racket of millions of ice pellets hitting the trees and the ground to the ringing.

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 3.)

Fighting off the same strange sense of disorientation from last night, Emanon thinks he sees a darkened figure through the downpour, further into the forest, away from the rutted path and his truck.


“HEY!”
With discombobulation assaulting his mind Emanon grasps at the one unknown piece of this puzzle. Although he grows increasingly weak he’s hard to keep down and manages to grab his axe and get to his feet.

“What’s going on!? Who…”

He manages a few strides towards the figure but, unable to keep his balance, collapses onto the rusty hood of his truck.

“You…”


If the person heard Emanon over the din, there’s no sign of it. The wind has gathered strength, and pellets of the windblown, frozen rain sting his face. The pain helps clear his mind and he regains his balance, although the ringing in his ears persists.

The wind whips around, briefly changing direction as it rattles through the clearing, and Emanon gets a clearer view of the figure as visibility improves for a moment. There’s a vague feeling of familiarity about the tall, jacketed person, who seems to be about thirty paces away, facing away from Emanon and swaying in the wind next to the uprooted roots of the further of the two fallen maple trees.


“Please! What’s happening? Who are you!?”

Spurred now by a clear desire to find out the truth, Emanon tries once more to reach the figure even as the wind returns to pelting his face with hail.

“Please! I can’t stand it… SAY SOMETHING!”


The man...it looks like a man...neither responds or moves as Emanon approaches him. Now just a few paces away, Emanon can see the figure is leaning against the roots and wearing...he’s wearing Emanon’s jacket.

“Ah…”

The last twelve hours play on repeat in Emanon’s mind. As they do, as he stares at this figure, that newly familiar sense of dread balloons into a million danger alarms.

With his body screaming almost as loudly as the ringing assaulting his mind, he realizes that no matter what comes next he’s going to be in real danger. Standing at the precipice of a gargantuan drop, forced to its edge by phenomena beyond his ken he has but two choices:

Take the plunge himself, or let it push him off.

He drops his axe, takes a step forward and reaches out to touch the figure.


Time slows to a crawl.

Emanon reaches out his hand, and a profound sense of deja vu strikes him; he spots a familiar-looking axe propped against the trunk of the tree.

heartbeat

Grabbing the man’s shoulder, Emanon feels a solid, wooden surface beneath the jacket’s shoulder.

heartbeat

An object falls to the ground.

heartbeat
No, wait...it’s just a jacket hanging on some of the roots protruding from the fallen tree.

...definitely his jacket, though.

heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat

A stroke of lightning lands nearby. In the moment of windblown silence before the thunderclap crashes through the air, the ringing in his ears rises a semitone.

A book bound in stained, dark-brown leather lies on the ground at Emanon’s feet, briefly illuminated by the lightning.


“Ah… Haha.”

Now he could truly feel embarrassed. He thought he still had a choice, so much so that there’d been a grain of doubt in his mind about whether it would all go away, no. He didn’t have the choice to take the plunge, he was already falling, probably since last night.

That book wasn’t there before, neither were the axe or jacket for that matter but those could be excused because it was possible for them to appear here. The book could never appear in this place under normal circumstances, to say nothing of the way in which it just arrived.

Looking at it he was tempted to think that he still had control, that this moment might be the true precipice, but of course he’d just been fooled. It was foolish to think he could be certain of what was to come from now on.

Then, what should I do?

Ignoring the possessions of his wooden doppelganger he sat where he stood just in front of the book. Wrapped in featureless leather it’s appearance yielded no clues as to its nature. All in all three options seemed most apparent to him:

Take it, Leave it, Destroy it.

Think, even though I’ve been afraid, whatever delivered this hasn’t caused me real harm, yet. And what would leaving it here accomplish? But I can’t trust it either, destroying it could be bad as well…

He felt helpless. There was no way to make the right choice (if there was one) with so little guidance. Pausing his thoughts for a moment he took a deep breath, finding peace in the one certainty available to him: There was no turning back.

Just like in everything else I’ve done.

Once the thought crossed his mind everything clicked into place. He couldn’t leave or destroy it, thus he had to take it, but trusting it was also out of the question. However, he also couldn’t stay on the mountain. Even if danger was to follow him it’d be better to face it among other people, there was no way he could risk facing what came next alone. Therefore, he’d abandon the cabin for now and break for the village as fast as he could, preferably before the weather turned. Once he was safe he could begin…

Assuming everything that could go wrong doesn’t. I sure hope nothing is reading my thoughts. For now I just need to leave the mountain.

He reached out to grab the book but withdrew at the last moment, as if afraid it would burn him. Sitting up he walked around the clearing, collecting both axes and the “scarecrows” coat. He reached out with the latter and bundled the book inside of it before making his way over to the truck and driving back to the cabin.


He finds himself back at the clearing next to the cabin, again, it seems. But now, the silence of the night air has been replaced by the howling of the storm, even though all the storm’s bluster is mysteriously not loud enough to rid him of the ringing tone in his head.

The darkness remains.

He enters the cabin quickly, its warmth a welcome contrast to the biting wind, its familiarity banishing the clinging sense of deja vu. The weight of the book, wrapped in the impossible copy of his own jacket, suddenly seems heavy, almost seeming to slow his urgent movements as he prepares.

Wishing to briefly free himself of its presence he tosses it onto the counter.

Can’t be weighed down by you at the moment.

Striding across the cabin's interior he pushes everything off his workbench onto the floor before dragging it away from the wall. The floorboards below it are noticeably looser and he wastes no time in prying them apart.

EMERGENCIES ONLY

These are the words scrawled onto a large metal suitcase hidden by the now absent floorboards. Two hatches click simultaneously. The case opens to reveal a pump action hunting shotgun with a rifle barrel and padded stock, two rows of shells running along the bottom and a pair of earphones sandwiched between ammo and gun.

And here I thought I’d be using this to hunt in hard times.

The first thing he grabs are the earphones. Placed upon his head the outside din fades to silence though, the ringing still assaults him. He grimaces at the thought that he’s already used to it.

The next few minutes are a blur. A wad of bills, a change of clothes, a canteen, a flashlight, his sharpest knife and finally the bundled book all find themselves crammed into an aging backpack with the axes hung from either side. As he hurriedly loads the shotgun his eyes catch a distant flash of lightning out the window.

****! I don’t have time!

Jumping to his feet, gun in one hand bag in the other, he rushes for the door leaving the remaining shells to join the many other things strewn about the floor.

Just as the truck's engine roars to life a raindrop lands on its windshield. Emanon watches it slide out of view before slamming on the accelerator and speeding down the mountain, the cabin quickly disappearing from view.

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 3


(Emanon 4th-Ranked Intellect roll, target 9, result 2.)

He finds himself in the village and stands beside his truck in the midst of an atmosphere that, all things considered, is calm. While frozen pellets of rain are still falling from the sky, they come down as though a lazy sky is making a half-hearted attempt to bury the earth in ice pellets. So far, about an inch of them have piled up on the ground, stacking up deeper under the eaves of the buildings in the village.

It remains very dark.

In the moment he spends beside his truck, four children wearing animal masks run past Emanon, waving sticks in the air as they go around the old Ford truck. A young girl in a faded green dress and rabbit mask raises her stick high in the air.

“Which building should we burn first?” the girl asks the others calmly.

“The trading post!” says a boy in a spider mask.

“The ranch!” says a boy in a beaver mask.

The final child, a girl, says nothing, but waves her stick around with a sense of enthusiasm. Still seemingly undecided, the children circle around the structure that houses the shop. It’s a simple affair, probably having once been a single story farmhouse that was converted once the village was large enough to support a shop. The shop has a familiar presence, while many of the other buildings in the village are homes where the villagers live.

A sense of relief lingers in Emanon's mind. Though he would’ve found the concept foreign twenty four hours ago, each building he saw represented an immensely reassuring concept: the presence of other people. Of course he’d already rationalized this feeling in the context of his current predicament but he was no less welcoming of the sensation. To top it off the ringing had disappeared and he relished his unhindered hearing like never before.

Reentering his truck he did a double check of his belongings, taking note of some trail mix inside the glove compartment. While rifling through the backpack his hands brush against the bundled jacket and he pauses for a moment. Eventually though, his eyes drift over to the half empty shotgun resting against the passenger seat.

Gotta guarantee my safety first.

Grabbing the gun and slinging the backpack over his shoulders he locks the truck and makes his way over to the door of the shop.


While he recognizes Taliyah behind the counter as he walks into the shop, her shell-shocked gaze into the middle distance seems oddly out-of-place. The smells of salted pork, peanut husks, unprocessed brown sugar and molasses are all there, but something seems off. Maybe it was the children; they’d followed Emanon into the shop and were now making a low-toned ruckus in the corner with the crates of peanuts. Something incoherent, but they were still brandishing their torches, so there was a fair bet it had to do with their apparent quest to burn something down.

Taliyah barely noticed the children, but as her eyes focus on Emanon, she seems a bit nervous.

Now that *was* unusual. He’d never known Taliyah, an older woman with sagging wrinkles on skin the color of red cedar and silver-gray hair drawn back in a high bun fastened with a shiny black comb, to be anything other than unflappable and, occasionally, cantankerous. She’d been running the shop ever since it opened, long before Emanon’s time, and he had no trouble imagining that she’d somehow outlive him, too.


Although curious about the cause of her nervousness, Emanon first went about replacing the food he’d been unable to pack. After collecting a variety of non-perishable items he made his way to the counter, trying to meet Taliyah’s eyes as he went. Eventually he stood before her.

“You seem out of sorts. What’s going on?”


“Just feeling my age today, I think,” she says. Her face animates slightly as her eyebrow raises, foretelling a question. “You’re early, aren’t you?” she asks. She looks over the items Emanon has selected and makes a series of marks in a large, red book -- the shop’s ledger -- her hands working quickly with a dark-red, hand-sharpened graphite pencil. Her flesh seems thin and dry. Tired. “Or maybe you’re just hungrier than usual,” she offers, a strange look coming over her for a moment, but she seems to fluidly move back into a somewhat listless state.

“Don’t tease him, Taliyah,” the young girl in the rabbit mask says, her tone unusually authoritative for a child.

Taliyah stiffens slightly.


At that moment the scales were tipped. Emanon rarely saw Taliyah and rarely for long so it wasn’t hard to imagine that even she’d have bad days. He’d also spent almost little to no time with the village's children so it didn’t strike him as impossible that they’d be a little strange. Yet these elements intersecting in the way they had caused a wave of grief to wash over his mind. He’d thought himself briefly free of strife once he’d left the mountain but unless he was overthinking things it seemed like trouble had pitched its tent everywhere he went.

“Why is it your business how she talks to me?”


Although Emanon can’t see her face through the rabbit mask, he can practically hear her smiling as she clasps her hands behind her back and leans forward slightly, her weight coming over her right foot before she deftly pivots and runs past her friends and toward the door to the shop. Emanon half expects mocking laughter, but the shop remains eerily quiet as the other children run off to join their ersatz leader, aside from the loud bang of the outer screen door slamming shut.


For a moment he considers chasing after them, even forcing their masks off, but he can’t afford to transgress so soon after arriving in the village. On top of that some part of him thought that they wanted him to, although he couldn’t logically justify why.

“Are the kids always like that? In fact, has anything strange been happening here lately?”


“Sometimes I think it seems like only strange things have ever happened here…,” she says, her voice trailing off as she watches the children outside through a window next to the counter. The children dance as they toss handfuls of ice pellets into the air. Silently.

“But today,” Taliyah continues, her voice breaking up the tension of the moment, “there’s been even more oddness than usual.”

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 6.)

“I shouldn’t speak of things I don’t understand, though. You seem confused enough already.”


Well you’ve got that right!

“Okay… Listen: I need you to tell me everything you can about anything even remotely out of the ordinary. I don’t care if you don’t understand and I don’t care if it’s not your business to tell me. I don’t care that I’m probably out of line and I don’t care that I’m giving you trouble, especially not after you left something so ominous hanging in the air. Please, just tell me.”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 4

“Just today, some men went around buying up all the gasoline. That was strange, or at least I thought so. Demand for gas picks up in the spring, but not all in one day.”

"Other than that, I don't know what to say. Memory seems to be worse than usual, maybe. Maybe it just feels strange." She shrugs dismissively.


“Do you think the gas business has anything to do with what the kids were talking about? Also, you don’t strike me as the type to respond by stiffening to anything, let alone that girl's tone.”

“The men did mention something about a bonfire. Maybe that’s what they needed all the gas for?” More shrugs. “As for the children…,” she leans in toward Emanon, “they’re somehow very unnerving, aren’t they?”

“I see… And have the kids always been like that?”

“Always?” she asks in a confused tone. “I...I think so, maybe? But if that were true, then would their behavior seem strange?”

“If it’s stranger than usual then yes, although I wouldn’t know. At any rate, do you know who I could talk to about this bonfire?”


“Everyone seems to have been over at the red barn lately. The adults, anyhow.” She finishes writing on the bill of sale, and hands it to Emanon. “I guess it will be hard to bring the firewood here while the weather is bad, but you can have the food for now. Pay me once you’ve got some to sell.”

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 9.)

Emanon is struck by that last phrase Taliyah used; something sounds terribly off about it. She seems oblivious to anything unusual in what she said, though.


“'Pay me once you’ve got some to sell?' It’s not like we’ve been trading in firewood.”

“If you pay me money for food, then I turn around and give you the same money for your firewood, then it is a bit like we are trading food for firewood.”


“I suppose, it just seems strange you’d be this lenient with credit.”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 5

She smiles. "You're by far my best customer, so I don't mind."

“I see, thanks, but I have the cash if you’d like it now. In fact, I’d like to buy a few more things. Do you have any ammo for sale behind the counter?”


“Actually, now that you mention it, that’s another weird thing. I don’t know if everyone has been going hunting more or something, but I can’t seem to keep ammunition in stock. Always someone lining up to ask for whatever I have.” She has a puzzled look on her face. “Can’t rightly say why. Someone even paid me a handsome sum to part with my husband’s hunting rifle, not that I have a use for it. Guess I’d been hanging onto it for sentimental reasons.”

“Wait, you're telling me that the village is stockpiling gas AND ordinance so much so that you can’t keep it in stock? Doesn’t that set off any alarm bells?”

“Gas and ammunition have always been among the best-selling things I sell, that’s hardly news. With food and firewood, that’s nearly all that I ever sell, though I can get other things if someone gives me some notice.”

“Maybe you’re right but… Alright, I’ll say it again. If you think there’s something out of the ordinary going on I'm begging you to tell me. You said that I was early? That’s not because I wanted a head start, it’s because I was trying to get off the mountain. Something’s going on there and it seems to me like something’s going on here as well. Also, regardless of any of that do you have any arms or ammo still laying around?”

“I am afraid that I can’t really help much if you are looking for answers, friend.” She reaches beneath the counter and draws out a heavy, tin strong-box, which Emanon recognizes as her cash box. She opens it and removes a tray full of bills, and pulls out a snub-nosed revolver, ivory inlay on the grip, brass cap on the butt, custom silvered-etched words along the barrel that were too small to read. “I have this for personal use, but only twelve bullets for it, including those already loaded up.”

She puts the gun back in the box, but doesn’t close it.

“I won’t refuse money if you insist, but I am afraid whatever is going on around here has moved beyond me.” She sighs, and Emanon spots hints of the distant, shell-shocked look he saw when he walked in.


“Sorry, I shouldn’t push my problems onto you. Thanks for telling me what you know, I’ll probably be around for a while so if you need my help just come and find me. You can take the cash now, seeing as I might not get another chance to give it. Other than that, do you know anywhere around here I could stay overnight?”

“Overnight, huh? Well, you’re welcome to sleep on the floor of the shop if you don’t find a better place, but be careful asking around,” she says, her eyes drifting over to look at where the children had been playing earlier. It seems they have moved on, though, leaving behind some furrowed piles of ice pellets in the area next to Emanon’s truck.

“If you don’t mind then yeah, I’d prefer to stay here. Also, do you know who those kids are?”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 6

“Kids of the families in the village, I think. Those four probably belong to some combination of the Arlongs, the Verniers and the Cybellines.” She shakes her head. “Could be wrong, though. Been some time since I knew the village kids well. As for staying here, I won't be closing for another few hours, but you are free to put out your things once I wrap up the day's business.”

“Arlongs, Verniers and Cybellines, you people have some strange last names out here. Anyway, thanks a lot, I’m gonna be out for a while so can you keep watch of my shotgun and check on my truck occasionally? I’m worried someone might do more than make ice piles around it.”


"Not sure where anyone would go without more gas," she replies. "But I don't mind if you leave your shotgun here."

“Thanks, see you later.”

With that Emanon reached into his bag and slid the fee for his provisions across the counter. Taliyah put it away wordlessly and once he was done cramming the food into his bag he stepped back outside.

Okay, breathe.

For a moment he stood just outside the door, working to stabilize his heartbeat. Thankfully it had already started to calm once Taliyah offered to let him stay the night, at least he wouldn’t be going door to door to ask the villagers where he might stay.

Still, the situation here isn’t good. I don’t want to be too hasty, at least until… I’ll read it tonight. For now I should at least look around and get the lay of the land.

Feeling somewhat confident he let his next exhale be the last before walking down a path now mostly obscured by the ice which crunched beneath his boots.


(This is an out-of-game village description. Emanon knows all of this, but it’s not all topical or visible at the moment. This is largely to help us visualize the larger situation.)

The only road into the village is, unsurprisingly, a dirt road, and it enters the village more or less from the southwest. Since it doesn’t see much traffic, it’s actually not in bad condition and even sports a nice layer of gravel paid for by the family that owns the ranch. Emanon’s usual route into the village joins this main road just a little ways before it passes the shop, officially known as the Village Trading Post, on the right (east-southeast of the road). The shop is located in the midst of a stand of carefully-maintained maple trees that the village taps for maple syrup; the trees were planted by Taliyah’s family several generations ago. Further on, away from the road, the terrain rises up to the basin where the lake, known as Mirror Lake on maps, is located.

Past the Village Trading Post, the road turns gradually toward the left, toward a cluster of small houses, each with a large garden and a fenced-in pen for animals. Before the cluster of houses, however, the ground rises slightly before leveling out into a large area of green grass, the Village Green, as it is known. Just beyond the Village Green is a large, old barn, painted in a fresh coat of bold, fire engine red. The barn is the oldest structure in the village, though any accompanying farmhouse is no longer evident. The red barn and the neighboring lawn are maintained as gathering places for special events like weddings and funerals.

The houses in the cluster belong primarily to five extended families that have lived in the village for generations. These are the Arlongs, the Verniers, the Cybellines, the Hancocks and the Walters. As in many small communities that have been around a long time, there’s significant inter-marrying between the families, and the plots of lands each family owns have likewise become increasingly entangled as new structures were added over the generations. The result is confusing groups of buildings off to the left and right of the road.

Past the clumps of houses in the central part of the village, the road continues on toward a large ranch that sports some recent renovations to upgrade its animal-housing facilities. The ranch breeds and raises beef and dairy cattle, while also milking and slaughtering some to provide for local demand. Most of the cattle born here end up being shipped out to other farms in the area after being sold at county auctions. The ranch is currently owned by Arsevelet (silent “t” at the end), but that side of the family is relatively new to the village, having acquired the land on which the ranch is now located by marrying into a branch of Taliyah’s extended family, the Arepeches.


Recalling what he can about the town, Emanon contemplates where to start his observations. The choice seems obvious, snoop around the residents property and Village Green to check for any suspicious sights and follow up on the children from earlier. Yet the problems with that choice are also quite evident. Even if he’s known among the townsfolk by his infrequent, (intentionally) inconsistently timed visits to the village they’ll doubtless regard him with suspicion especially if they’re planning something as worrying as it seems.

He could just check on the green and find a vantage point to view things from above but the masked gaggle from earlier tugged at his imagination and kept his alarm bells from quieting. Their behavior definitely merited investigation but he didn’t want to risk increasing his profile as the kids in question had almost certainly relayed his arrival to someone or another, sparking the wildfire which small village gossip tended to resemble.
I could try to locate and tail them… Provided no one sees me and they don’t catch on.

“If I knew it would turn out like this I would’ve stayed home”

Too late anyhow. Besides, something was up there. Maybe it’s followed me here, or maybe I never left it behind.

As the thought occurs to him his pupils dilate within their sea green eyes and he ceases his already slow steps, heart rate beginning to rise.

No, don’t think like that. You don’t know enough, you can’t make assumptions, you have to deal with what’s in front of you.

Of course, there was a way he might remedy his ignorance. He wasn’t lying to himself but his priorities were being distorted by fear, a fear unjustifiable in the current circumstances.

I can’t and couldn’t back out now or ever. Spying on those kids would just be an excuse… But I should see what the Green looks like at least, especially since I might be attending that bonfire.

With trepidation for the future and his heart rate still elevated Emanon continues down the road, his destination chosen.


The walk from the shop is less than a quarter-mile, but the turn in the road and wind-break hedges to the left and right of the road mean that Emanon doesn’t get a good view of the green and the barn until the green is only a few dozen yards off to the right of the road. While the storm hasn’t let up, it is still strangely muted here, as though the wind couldn’t be bothered to stir more than the tops of the trees. A strange contrast with his trial up in the hills, where the storm seemed like some animal bearing down on the cabin.

It was also dark. Way too dark for...what time of day was it even? Judging by the light, the sun must be close to setting, but the sky was a solid, featureless bank of clouds. The gray light was somehow much more unsettling than twilight, although it was good that the storm hadn’t brought the freezing chill that one might expect from a frozen rain. Rather, the air had the feel of a midsummer hail, a slight moistness to the breeze that curled along the road.

Now only twenty yards away, Emanon catches first sight of the green, and notices torches mounted on metal stakes around the edge of the brown grass of the lawn, maybe a dozen or so, enough to make a vague attempt at warding off the darkness. Yet more torches surround the barn, still about a hundred yards further off, beyond the green. Emanon can hear vague sounds of people gathered, even though the visibility to the barn itself is not great at this distance.

A distant peal of thunder sounds.

On the near side of the green, and slightly off to the left, an area of packed stone dust marks a playground of sorts, with a swing set and some kind of climbing obstacle. Emanon spots a lone figure there, a young woman he remembers from past encounters at the shop; Angela seems to play alone, not that it ever seemed to bother her that she does. Right now, she seems focused on a game of hopscotch, her simple, blue dress swaying about her as she hops along the squares. She bends to pick up the stone while standing on one foot, and Emanon remembers his impression from the past, still true: she acts younger than her age.

While many in the village in the past seemed to respond to her behavior by excluding her, Taliyah always kept a seat in the shop where she could sit unmolested and have some peanuts. Indeed, that was where she sat when Emanon first saw her, he recalls, a pile of peanut husks on her lap, her singular focus on shelling the remaining peanuts for the entirety of the time he spent in the shop that day.

(Emanon 4th-Ranked Intellect roll, target 9, result 7.)

Although it’s hard to judge, Emanon suspects she has noticed him, though she hasn’t made even the slightest move to acknowledge him, remaining bent over, still on one foot, long enough to sweep ice pellets off of her hopscotch pattern. She’s humming slightly to herself, maybe talking, but in a tone too low for him to hear at this distance, and she stands and brushes her long, blonde braids out of her face as she turns toward him, following the pattern of the squares as she hops.

It's about fifty yards from Emanon to Angela, to be clear.

No other people are in sight, though visibility remains poor away from the torches and their yellow-orange, flickering glow.


Turning his attention from Angela to the fog which surrounds them Emanon strains his ears in hopes of better capturing how many people might be here. Even after fifteen seconds or so the noise level doesn’t change, leaving him unable to draw any new conclusions.

Flashlight? No, I can’t draw attention to myself like that, although I’m gonna need it soon regardless… It definitely wasn’t this dark a second ago.

If his heart rate weren’t already elevated he would have noticed an uptick once again. It wasn’t even five minutes since he left Taliyah's store yet it already looked like the time she’d be closing. At any rate it’s not like he could get a good look at the green, although he could now assume there was something happening there, and he didn’t want to attract attention so it was probably best to return “early” and do what he should’ve done in the first place.

Yet his view returned to Angela, the only other concrete presence in this dark ocean. The image of her playing hopscotch in the sudden darkness was disquieting. Taliyah was fond of her and he’d never heard a word about her parents, maybe she’d be better off coming with him.

Riffling through his bag he withdrew the flashlight but did not turn it on. Taking care to walk slowly he skulked through the shadows to where she was playing, seemingly undaunted by the dark.

“Angela, do you want to come with me to Taliyah’s?”


“Ahhhhh,” she exclaims, rather louder than necessary, but full of a warm, innocent mirth as a broad smile spreads across her face. Her eyes briefly lock with Emanon’s, soft, heather gray orbs that catch the light of the torches far more brilliantly than they have any business doing. “Woodman!” Angela continues, a little quieter now; she holds up her right hand, one finger outstretched toward the sky as she bids him be quiet.

She jumps and turns in place, landing on one foot.

“Wood-”

Hop.

“-man”

Jump.

“Wood in…”

Hop.

“Hand…”

Hop.

“As…”

Jump.

“Was his…”

Hop.

“Plan…”

Hop.

“Sold…”

Jump and turn in place.

“To…”

Hop.

“Nan…”
Jump.

“For cash…”

Hop.

“In…”

Hop.

“Hand…”

Jump.

“Planned, panned…”

Hop.

“Still…”

Hop.

“He…”

Hop, turn in place.

“Ran…”

She briefly looks over her shoulder at Emanon before her attention returns to the hopscotch grid

“Still.” Hop. “He.” Jump. “Ran, all.” Hop. “Unplanned.” Hop. “They.” Jump. “Stand, all.” Hop. “Belt.” Jump, turn in place. “In.” Hop. “Hand.”


Emanon gazes upon the spectacle, processing its rhythm and wondering whether the girl might increase her volume again, concerned about the distant crowd.

Although they’ll probably stay put unless she starts screaming. Still, how’d I expect her to respond? Not like this I guess…

His thoughts trail off and he takes to gazing towards the voices. If he had all the time in the world, he might be content to stay and watch Angela hopscotch in the tranquil torchlight, but as the past twenty four hours had shown, particularly the last five minutes, he has precious little time to waste.

Wood-man, wood in-hand, his-plan, sold-to-Nan, cash-in-hand, ran.

He was unlikely to court her favor without knowing the rules of her game. More than less resigned to the possibility of leaving her, he decides to take a shot in the dark.

“Where did the Woodman run?”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 7

For a moment, Angela seems very confused. Then she laughs.

“Wood man, not wooden-man.” She laughs again, before stopping abruptly to look down at the hopscotch grid.

Suddenly she skips over to the climbing obstacle, which Emanon can now see takes the form of a structure made of over-sized tires (like the ones that might be the back wheels of a large tractor) that have been bolted together into a series of cubes that have been shaped into an upside-down “T.” She disappears inside the structure, still quietly reciting elements of her rhyme to herself.


Seriously?

He couldn’t help but feel slightly miffed that his mistake had been, by his standards, so arbitrary. Then he thought about it. If she could be so calm and playful, then he probably didn’t need to worry, at least not about her.

Wood man, plan, sold to nan, cash, ran.

Various permutations of her melody bounce around in his head. If someone had told him beforehand that his attempts to coax her would only result in an earworm, he wouldn’t have bothered, but having made his choice, he chooses to let it comfort him, hitting his left palm with his right pointer finger in time with the rhythm.

“There’s something on the mountain Angela, if you ever see someone leaving for it, try and stop them.”

Unsure of whether the girl had even heard him, Emanon skulks off in the direction of Taliyah's store.


Standing in an empty parking space in front of the Village Trading Post, Emanon notices that the storm’s gentle sprinkle of ice pellets has subsided. At least, it has down here in the valley; some distant moonlight reflects off a heavy bank of storm clouds that yet hang around the mountain’s peak. Every so often, a silent stroke of lightning lights up a portion of the clouds as it arcs between the gray billows.

(Emanon 4th-Ranked Intellect roll, target 9, result 10.)

A pattern among the recent events crystallizes in Emanon’s mind: he’s got chunks missing from his memory. Not random chunks, either. He’d have to take some time to organize things to be sure, but he can definitely now see that his memories have been strange since he came down from the hills.

He doesn’t remember any details about the drive down into town.

He doesn’t remember when it got dark on the way to the Village Green.

He doesn’t remember arriving at the Village Trading Post, night now in full swing, the only light nearby the dim glow of a fireplace from somewhere within the shop.

Emanon now realizes that what’s going on is more than just a feeling of unease or some odd behavior by some of the villagers.

His skin prickles as a shiver runs up his spine and he is reminded that the night’s chill is still dangerous this time of year.

An all-too-familiar ringing returns to his ears.


“No…”

Calm down, deep breaths, deep breat-

He stumbles slightly, catching his balance and stepping on a patch of ice chips. Expecting to hear them crunch beneath his feet he realizes he can’t hear it over the ringing reverberating within his skull.
“AAAARRRGGH!”

Emitting a yell he’s unable to hear Emanon stamps and kicks at the ground, sending ice in all directions.

Gotta find Taliyah!

Redirecting his energy he dashes across the parking lot and throws open the store's door, nearly knocking over a shelf as he hurtles inside.

“Taliyah! Come quick! (Pant) (Pant) (Pant) Agh! Get out of my head!”


The shop is eerily quiet; for a moment, Emanon wonders if he imagined the flicker of firelight. It’s nearly as dark inside as it was outside and he can feel a strong draft through the open doorway behind him, the chill from outside seeming to follow him into the shop. After a moment, Emanon notices two things. First, there is a dim, orange flickering that comes from further into the house in which the shop is located. Secondly, the door is stuck on something and doesn’t swing itself shut like it normally does.

Feeling the cold air from the still open door wash over him Emanon stares into the interior's darkness, confirming the presence of the light within. He reaches his hands behind him and opens the backpack. Slowly withdrawing both the knife and the flashlight he put one into each of his hands. Turning the flashlight on he briefly observed the contours of Taliyah’s empty shop.

Strong wind, it’s gonna be a long night.

Spinning on his heels the wind-chill slaps him across the face. Grimacing, he grabs the door and shoves it shut with considerable force, causing the building to vibrate slightly.

No response from earlier.

“Taliyah?! Are you there?!”

After a moment of silence following his holler, he descends into the depths of the shop toward the distant firelight.


As one enters the shop, the front counter is on the immediate right, and runs the length of the room, with a liftable section of the counter allowing access to the area behind it. The only interior hall leading out of the shop is located just ahead and to the left. After a short distance, there are two doors, one on the left, one on the right. These open into the stockrooms where the shop keeps extra inventory for the winter season, when access to areas beyond the valley is restricted, making restocking difficult. Emanon is familiar with these rooms, having once been tricked into helping Taliyah move heavy crates while “looking for a spot inside suitable for his firewood.” The hallway, which Emanon recalls is a little narrow for moving crates, continues on beyond the stockrooms for about six feet, then turns to the left.

The flashlight beam gives Emanon a really clear look at the wallpaper print that covers the walls in the hallway. A cherry-red bundle of wheat arranged in a v-shape runs up and down the cream-colored background, the paper yellowed with age in some places. Repetitive in the extreme, but at least the floor doesn't creak as he approaches the turn in the hallway. The flickering light seems to come from around the corner, but the hallway remains surprisingly dark.

“Hektor?” a meek, tired voice calls out from somewhere ahead of Emanon. “Hektor, is that you?”


The voice drains some of the tension from his nerves. Although he couldn’t have imagined it beforehand, the speaker must be Taliyah. It sounded as though she’d been woken up, presumably by his yelling.

“No, it’s Emanon. Sorry to wake you up like this.”

As the words hung in the air Emanon found himself contemplating his recent revelation. The drive down the mountain, walks to and from the green. All were moments that, provided nothing eventful occurred, one would normally forget to begin with. That’s probably why it took him so long to notice the absence of any memories regarding them. Yet the latter two especially indicated HUGE gaps in his memory measured most likely in hours. What was he doing during that time? How much time had passed? He arrived at the village around midday and left to the green soon after but when he arrived there dusk had nearly gone and who knows how much time had elapsed between then and now?

“Also… Do you have a clock somewhere around here?”


Emanon finds Taliyah sitting in a faded-red, velveteen-lined, high-backed armchair that is carefully positioned front-and-center before a large, stone fireplace. The fire shows signs of once being stoked to a healthy blaze, but that time is no more. Now, orange embers are cobbled together, slender twigs etched with white ash that were once thick, split lengths of hardwood, like those piled off to the left on the flagstone of the hearth. The room’s other furnishings are few and unnoticeable, melting into the shadows cast by the armchair.

The small woman is all but invisible from the vantage point of the hallway, and even in the room, the armchair has all but swallowed her. Her eyes are open, but her gaze seems fixed on something deep within the orange-red light of the fading flames. She makes no sign of moving in response to Emanon entering the room. Indeed, she is motionless, but for a very slight sign that she is breathing.

“Hektor’s been dead for years,” she says, her meek voice seeming to cross a great distance to reach Emanon. “How could I forget? His heart gave out while we were planting potatoes together in the garden. I still see him, dirt from my hands on his face and neck where I held his head as he passed ....” Her voice trails off, strangely cold and mechanical for such an emotive memory.

“Emanon,” she says, voice suddenly present and firm, eyes locked with his. “Forget the clock. You know something is wrong, you *feel* it.” She points an impossibly slender hand, index finger crooked with age, at his chest. “I know that everything is wrong, or maybe nothing is right...I don’t know if any of it was ever right.” Her gaze falters for a brief moment; then he sees her jaw set. “But let’s talk specifics.”

Half a smile crosses her face, little more than a slight curl to her thin lips. “Please retrieve the sewing box from the table behind me while I explain what little I can.”


“...”

He stands there for a moment, looking into her eyes. It’s as if her words had reoriented reality, imparting a clarity so profound that if the ringing happened to start again he probably wouldn’t notice it. The release in tension was so great he thought he might start crying, although no tears materialized.

Wordlessly he walked over to the table and grabbed the sewing box. Treating it with great care he extended his arm toward the side of the arm chair and waited for Taliyah to take it from him.

“Thank you.”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 8

A grimace crosses Taliyah’s face after Emanon speaks, her mouth beginning to open. But then she smiles. Her eyes even catch a brief glint from the light of the fire and they sparkle for a moment.

“I’ve always liked you,” she says warmly.

Then her jaw sets again.

“Because I do like -- and even respect -- you, I will say what I almost said before your genuine nature made me check myself,” she says, her eyes fixed on Emanon as she takes the sewing box from him.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

She places the sewing box carefully on her lap, towards her knees, where it sits bathed in firelight. The box is about the size of a shoebox, but with an oval shape. Frequent handling has worn through the patina of age that covers the dark brown lacquer of the box, revealing a tea-colored wooden composition around the edges. The top surface is inlaid with a simple design of a spool of thread and a clump of sewing needles rendered in contrasting, white wood that stands out against the brown of the lacquer. She looks at the box intently as the light of the embers makes the box seem to almost glow, the smoothly worn surfaces shining subtly amidst the darkness of the wider world beyond the fire, beyond this room.

Her hands fall from the box, and it rests, balanced on her legs for a silent moment.

“What’s in the box?” she asks, suddenly meeting Emanon’s gaze again with a piercing look. “Guess,” she says. “Lead from the heart.”


“...”

My heart has never been a good leader, Taliyah.

“Something that’s been in your family for a long time, connected to this town maybe, something that has to do with… What’s wrong.”


“Oh, you’re adorable,” she says with a smirk. “I shouldn’t have implied ‘what’s likely to be in the box’ and instead just said ‘what do you wish was in the box?’”

She shakes her head, then looks at Emanon again. “Once more.” She points to the box, pointedly.


“So it’s a wish? Alright, I won’t make a riddle out of it.”

In any case the answer was obvious: A return to his peaceful days as a hermit, free of strange children, amnesia and the ringing. In short, a wake up call from the nightmare.

… No, that doesn’t work anymore.

Let alone that such a thing didn’t exist there was no way he could convince himself it had all been a dream. He felt so changed by these recent events that the thought of willfully discarding them felt like a violation of reality and he’d already given up on believing he was insane.

So in the absence of an escape what could he hope to gain in this new paradigm? Security? Safety? Both felt like faulty concepts after what he’d encountered and even if he could believe in them something deeper tugged at his thoughts. Where is the ringing coming from? Where did the axe, jacket and book come from? Why are my memories disappearing? Why are the villagers behaving so strangely? Is all this connected? If so, what’s causing it?

“Something to help me understand what I can’t, to know what I don’t… An all seeing eye?”


“Hmm, interesting. Wise enough for a conservative wish, not wise enough to figure it’s unlikely to be a wish.” Taliyah arches an eyebrow. “Best to not accept wishes, in my book.”

The old woman sighs and touches the box lightly with her fingertips.

“No, it was an attempt at divination, not that I imagine you’d understand such workings. The heart is often more honest than the mind, and, for some, more reliable than the gut. But, for now, stick with your gut and don’t worry too much about too many details.”

Taking the lid off the box, she removes two smaller trays of needles, spools of thread, some very delicate-looking scissors and a strange-looking rock carved in the shape of a frog. With the trays removed, Emanon can see a small burlap sack, roughly a pint in volume, and something else obscured by the sack.

“If I had something so useful as you wished for, I’d have been sure to use it. As it stands, the others from the village have been keeping things from me for some time.” She takes out the small sack, which is tied shut with a short length of twine and seems to be stuffed full of whatever is in it. She then removes what appears to be a supple twig of some sort that was bent into a small hoop and then fastened with twine. Two small, wooden shapes dangle by twine, suspended in the hoop, but Emanon can’t quite make them out as Taliyah quickly moves to replace the trays and shuts the box.

“They are up to something, clearly, or wouldn’t have felt the need to make so many thinly-veiled threats around an unusual need for more ammunition all the time, to say nothing of a sudden need for all the gasoline in the village.” She scoffs. “I’d give them a piece of my mind if they tried anything, of course, so they’ve been subtle enough. But there’s no mistaking the signs; it’s a bad moon that hangs outside now.” She nods over her shoulder toward the window.

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 3.)

“I can tell you’ve seen signs, too; it’s all over your face and hands.”


“It’s not just signs, after what’s happened I can’t fully trust anything. The rules of reality, or at least my good senses, have changed in bad ways since all this started…”

He paused, thinking how best to explain himself.

“It started last night on the mountain. I woke up to this ringing that seemed faint but close at the same time. It wasn’t too bad and I managed to ignore it but when morning came I went out to collect some fallen trees when… The ringing came back in full force, the weather changed in a flash and-”

Stepping forward to better suit Taliyah's field of view he crouched down and opened his backpack.

“These appeared. A copy of my axe, my jacket and a book I’ve never seen before.”

Now free of fear towards the object Emanon swiftly unwrapped the book and placed it alongside the two axes and jackets now on Taliyah’s floor.

“Some other things happened as well, I thought I saw my doppelganger but it just turned out to be a tree with the jacket copy draped over it. Anyway, that’s when I realized something was wrong, I packed in a rush and drove into town as fast as I could.”

He paused again, taking a moment to breathe.

“The first thing I did after arriving was head into your shop. After I left I tried checking out the green to see what was going on. When I got there it was very dark, like dusk was on its last legs. It seemed the village was gathered there but even with the torches I couldn’t make out anything from a distance. I also ran into Angela. Strange girl, but not in a bad way. She was going on about a Wood-man, his plan, something he sold to “Nan” for “cash in hand” and how he ran. I asked if she’d like to come back with me but you can see how that went.”
Another moment to breathe.

“It was after I got back here that I realized I’ve got blanks in my memories all this started. I don’t remember the drive down the mountain, the walk to the green or the walk back here and it feels like a lot of time passed during the last two which is why I wanted to see a clock.”

He paused for the final time, taking a particularly deep breath.

“That’s my story. What can you tell me about yours?”


As Emanon continues talking, Taliyah sets her sewing box on the floor and pivots in her chair slightly, reaching out and using her left foot to scoot one of the axes and one of the jackets away from Emanon. She gestures for him to continue, and listens intently to the rest of his story, although her eyes remain primarily fixed on the dying embers in the fireplace.

Once he is done, she sighs, but then smiles. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have much I can add to your story. The light has been strange here, too. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you…,” she says as her voice drifts off slowly and her eyes widen, pupils dilating until they practically swallow her irises.

She shakes her head back and forth, eyes closed now, and presses her palms against her face, covering her eyes. “Let’s take it one point at a time, shall we?” she asks faintly, her voice seeming distant and horribly tired.


“Sorry, I don’t mean to take things so fast and I want to thank you for listening. Before that though, could we go back a bit? Afraid you can’t tell me what?”

“I can’t tell you when this all started,” she says. “While you say it started last night on the mountain, down here in the valley, things have been wrong for some time now.” She arches her left eyebrow, as if to give weight to her statement by accenting her gaze. “Maybe not as alarming as unexplained noises and ill-tempered storms, but...well, let’s just get to the main thing.”

“You say the word ‘clock,’ and I know what you mean, but I can’t help you. No one here can. Pretty sure there are none. Not here in the shop, or in my house. Somehow, that doesn’t seem weird. No one else I’ve spoken to has one either. No clocks, watches, timepieces.”


“I see… So it’s more like strangeness made its way up the mountain. Still, we can’t assume that some of this is unrelated as well though that's hard for me to believe. Also, don’t worry about the clocks. Like you said it’s not important anymore. More importantly, could you tell me about the town and what’s been happening? Take as long as you like and, if you could, tell me about Angela too. Aside from that trio earlier and you, she's the only person I can be certain knows I’m in town, although she and the other kids probably said something if they got the chance.”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 9

She straightens in her chair a bit, and her gaze hardens.

“I don’t believe I ever said ‘it’s not important anymore,’ so get your ears checked.”


“Fair point, but like you also said a clock’s going to be hard to find around here and we’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“If we have more important things to worry about,” she says, leaning forward toward Emanon, her look softening a bit, but her gaze still keen, “then why was time so much on your mind when you came crashing in here?”

“That’s a bit of a story. When I first realized I had amnesia the ringing started up again. I’m not too good at handling it so I got stressed out and came in here with my head spinning about the amnesia. Also, judging from your hesitancy during the day I didn’t want to keep pressing you about the villagers even if that was my biggest worry. If you hadn’t said anything I would’ve started reading the book and probably tried to catch some sleep if I could.”

“Let me be plain, then,” she says, her voice firm again. “Clocks not being here may not worry you, but it worries me.”

Taliyah stands up, and as she does, her knees, back and shoulders unleash a symphony of creaks and pops as she makes an effort to straighten her posture before she stretches her legs, now standing very close to the fire.

“Not knowing why there are no clocks here worries me.” She reaches up onto the mantle and pulls a dark-brown glass bottle from among the mason jars and dangling sprigs of herbs that hang above the fireplace. She removes the cork with her teeth, then takes a brief swig from it.

“Not knowing how I know that, no matter where I go to look in the village, I won’t find one, *really worries me.*” She replaces the cork. “But never mind that,” she says, her voice rich with sarcasm, “let’s talk about Angela.”

“That can wait. I’m not trying to get your temper going so let’s be clear on this first. You know that there are no clocks in the village but you don’t know how you know that?”

“Am I wrong in thinking that’s strange? Like how suspicious gaps in your memory or time skipping around willy nilly is strange.” She sighs. “I’m tired, or you wouldn’t need to wonder whether ‘my temper is going.’ But you’re the one in trouble here. None of this bothered me much until you pulled your truck up out front. Not really sure why that is, either, but that’s why I’m keen to help you get your head on straight.”

“It’s not strange at all, and knowing something like that seems more useful than amnesia. You say I’m the one in trouble and that you weren’t worrying till I came around but in the time I’ve known you you’ve never been this on edge. Let’s talk about that.”

“Indeed. Whatever the basis of our relationship, it doesn’t seem to have included frank talks of supernatural happenings. I assume that’s because there wasn’t much supernatural stuff before. To be honest, though, not sure which memories I am drawing upon for that impression, either. I seem to remember us knowing each other. Indeed, I remember most things fine, as long as I don’t wonder about when, or in what order, or try to string thoughts together for more than the space of hour or so. Everything seems...slippery, like thoughts just don’t want to fall into place outside of routine things. Instead, thoughts and memories slide all over whenever I poke at them for details.”

She sighs again, this time louder.

“I don’t seem to be the kind of person who handles this kind of thing well, whatever manner of misfortune this happens to be.”


“Well..”

Taliyah's description brought to mind a non supernatural condition common to her demographic but Emanon swiftly stomped out the thought.

“...The question might seem stupid considering what you just said but can you pin anything as the cause? In my case I think of all this having started after the ringing began. Can’t be 100% certain but the idea they’re related seems likely.”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 10

“Aside from your presence and the vague sense things are steadily getting worse, no, I’m afraid not. But,” she says and holds up a hand as she rallies her spirits, other hand planted firmly on her hip, “before we go too far, let’s circle back; you mentioned Angela. Nice girl, very clever. Of course, the regular suspects from the village treat her poorly, which is why she always tends to hang around the shop. You should talk to her more, especially since I am pretty sure the person she was talking about is you.”

“That’s what I thought too but…”

Wood-man, wood in hand, as was his plan, sold to nan, for cash in hand, planned, planned, still he ran, still he ran, all unplanned, they stand all, belt in hand.

If his mind hadn’t returned to its new habit of racing he would have been surprised at the vividness of her song in his memory.
“Wood-man, wood in hand, as was his plan, sold to nan, for cash in hand, planned, planned, still he ran, still he ran, all unplanned, they stand all, belt in hand.”

I’m the wood man, I sell my wood for cash to-

“Does she call you nan? Actually, does she often speak like this?”


“I usually get worried if I don’t hear her talk like that. It’s not that she can’t, you see. She just gets all tongue-tied and flustered if things don’t fit her rhyme scheme. Not that I mind, since we’ve made a game of it where I will give her a new word to rhyme with once she’s run out of things to say that rhyme. She’s actually very bright and creative, but most everyone else just assumes she’s dumb because she doesn’t talk like most people do.” Taliyah waves her hand dismissively. “So I am not surprised that Angela isn’t wrapped up in whatever bad juju the rest of the village has been up to.”

“And yes, ‘nan’ is the way she refers to me a fair amount of the time, when she isn’t up to rhyming things with ‘Taliyah.’”


“She was by herself rather than with everyone else on the green… A kid after my own heart in that way.”

That explains most of what she said. Still, something about my running?

“Would you be willing to tell me anything else about her, what her family life is like and all? Also, I doubt it’s the case but have you ever said anything about me to or around her?”


“Angela is the youngest, and now only, surviving child of the Cybelline family. Her parents are only slightly more compassionate than the rest of the village. That leaves them in an unfortunate position now that she is their only child, since she is unlikely to cooperate with the kind of arranged marriage that still tends to be the practice around here. Not that she’s to be given a choice in the matter, of course, but I’ve no doubt Angela will make her feelings on the matter known, one way or another.” Taliyah smiles and chuckles briefly. “As for whether she knows you, I suppose you’ve not noticed that she usually pokes her head out from her hiding place once you start unloading firewood from your truck into the lean-to beside the shop. She wouldn’t want to have been seen by you, you see, as she’s taken a bit of a liking to you.”

“That’s… Not pretty, her circumstances I mean. Those aside, I never noticed her except for one time when she was shelling peanuts in silence, why do you think she likes me?”

"Wild guess here: you're the only guy around that hasn't been mean to her, and you're from somewhere where none of the people that are mean to her would go."


“Well when you say it like it seems obvious and that last part’s a little ironic. As I left the green I told her not to let anyone go up the mountain because something was up there, oh boy-”

It was Emanon’s turn to let out a long sigh.

“I’ve made such a fool of myself. How did the two of you get acquainted anyhow?”


“No point beating yourself up about something anyone could miss if they weren’t familiar with the circumstances here in the village. As for Angela, the other children, and some young adults who behave like children, tease her mercilessly. They know it’s easy to get Angela going if they all try to talk to her at once, then interrupt her with non sequiturs or words that are hard to form rhymes with or that don’t rhyme with each other before Angela can speak.” Taliyah shakes her head disapprovingly. “Well, I couldn’t very well turn her away when she has to put up with that sort of thing, so I welcomed her to the shop, put a chair in one of the stockrooms, and a second beside the counter. We enjoy some clever wordplay when there aren’t any customers around.”

“I don’t know if I could keep up with her rhymes like you but do you think she could…”

For the second time in the conversation, Emanon pauses to think of how best to explain things.

“Basically, unless things go sideways real fast I’m going to be in town for a while and it’d be good to explore around a bit, particularly with someone keeping an eye on me because I can’t trust my senses any more. With what you said in mind it seems like she could use someone to keep those jerks you mentioned off her back while she’s out and about, do you see what I’m saying? Actually, you said young adults, are we talking about people my age?”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 11

“Angela herself will be seventeen soon, but the people in question are probably still in their early twenties, though, to be honest, most of them have grown to be rather unpleasant human beings, so I can’t say I’ve been keeping track of their birthdays.”

Taliyah bends over, grabs a large log with her small hands, and chucks it onto the embers in the fireplace. She turns back to the armchair, and retrieves the two items that she took from the sewing box.

“As for whether Angela would be able to help you, I can’t speak for her, but I am sure she’d be glad for a bit of company while whatever unpleasantness the others are up to transpires. Perhaps ask her for help yourself, and keep in mind that she is the one with the compulsion to rhyme, not you.”

The old woman holds out her gnarled hands, slender, but with a steady grip. In her left is the small burlap sack, while in her right is the small hoop.

“Charms, of a sort, or medicine, as some people know it. Rock salt,” she says, holding the left hand forward slightly. “Useful for purification, clean earth. Also resonates with water. Sprinkle around you for general use, place a small mound beside your pillow at night, and pour out to make a circular barrier. This is old ways from the land of my husband’s ancestors.”

After a slight pause, Taliyah holds out her right hand. “A charm, the making of which was passed down to me by my grandmother, as it was passed to her from her grandmother. I was going to teach Angela how to do it, if I got the chance, but things seem to have gotten away from me.” As she holds it up, the hoop dangles delicately in the firelight. Now illuminated, Emanon can see small carvings of a crescent moon and the disc of the sun that dangle from the short lengths of twine, suspended inside the hoop.

“You should probably get going, though. Whatever bad thing was happening, it hasn’t stopped happening while we’ve been talking. I’ll keep these duplicate items, by the way.”


“Why? Do you have something in mind for them?”

"Temporal mechanics aside, I would assume your second set of items comes from somewhere by the time you found it. Thus, having them with you probably isn't wise, or else you may never find them."

“You know? I wish I could laugh at that, even accounting for the tongue lashing you’d give me... but I can’t. Still, in that case wouldn’t you want the book too? Or is the fact that it’s not a duplicate important somehow?”

“No, the book is yours,” she says with an air of finality. “Not sure how I know, but I have no doubt. Keep it.”

“Thought you might say that.”

Emanon looked again at the book, thinking about how not too long ago he dreaded its very presence. Now, something about Taliyah’s words sparked a deep curiosity in him.

Mine…

“I guess that’s everything then, unless you’ve got something else in mind I’m going to settle in for the night and crack open the book while I have the chance. Ah, also, where did you leave my shotgun?”


“I put the shotgun in the empty ammo cabinet underneath the counter in the shop,” Taliyah replies as she reaches into a pocket in the side of her dress and produces a keyring with several keys. “It’s the key with the red dot on it,” she says as she hands the keys to Emanon.

“Thanks, and is there anywhere you’d prefer I sleep?”

“Unfortunately, I only have the one bed in the house nowadays. But you are welcome to take the chair here, if you’d like. Or move the chair back and sleep on the floor. I’ll bring a spare blanket in a moment.” The old woman looks around the room before her gaze settles on the fireplace. “Probably best to let the fire burn down,” she says, maneuvering a screen-covered grate in front of the fire. “No sense in asking for some random embers to go shooting all over while you sleep.”

“Thanks, again.”

He got up, switching the flashlight back on as he did so, and began walking out of the room. Yet, just before the entrance to the hall he stopped.

“You said you only noticed what’s been happening after I came here… Does any of this feel real?”

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 12

"Whether it is real or not, I don't know. What I do have is the feeling that things have always been wrong somehow, but it never seemed to bother me until you showed up today."

“What was it that I did to make it start bothering you, specifically I mean?”

“Maybe it wasn’t something you did. Can’t really say, I’m afraid,” she says with a shrug. “Things that shouldn’t have ever made any sense didn’t seem to bother me until you drove your truck up to the shop.”

“...”

Emanon turned to look over at Taliyah as she gazed at the dying embers.

“I’ll say it again, if something happens you can count on my help.”

He leaves.


After heading back down the cherry-red and creamy-white hallway and past the stockrooms, then working his way behind the counter at the front of the store, Emanon finds the ammunition cabinet right where Taliyah said it was. With the help of the flashlight, he is easily able to determine which is the key with the red dot and kneels down to open the cabinet.

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception Roll, target 7, result 9.)

Just as he’s about to insert the key into the lock on the cabinet, Emanon sees a brief glint of light through the window beside the counter that looks out toward the parking spaces in front of the shop.


His eyes widen in an instant but a mix of fatigue and focus from the recently concluded discussion keep his heart from spiking again.

Here, and now of all times.

Of course it might not be a person, and even if it is they might be well intentioned, but that’s not a risk he can take. Working to keep his hands from trembling, Emanon inserts the key into its lock and slowly pulls the cabinet door.
Quickly locating his prize he grabs it, shuts off the flashlight, quietly shuts the door and leans against the counter. Waiting and listening.


The light outside the window grows gradually and takes on an orange tint, reminding Emanon of the glow of Taliyah’s fireplace. Unlike the fireplace, this glow is accompanied by the sound of several pairs of feet as they move about and make quiet crunching noises on the ice pellets. Emanon exhales slightly as it becomes clear that, whatever it is those outside are doing, they don’t seem to be in a hurry to come into the shop, but instead seem to be gathering out in the area in front of the shop.

He gives careful thought to whether it’s safe to poke his head up to glance out the window, but as he does, he hears the sound of voices back down the hallway, back in the direction of the sitting room with the fireplace. One of the voices belongs to Taliyah while the other is unfamiliar. Emanon gets the impression that they may be further away, deeper into the house, as he listens, not quite able to make out what they are saying.


They’re burning it down I should make a break for it but they’ll see me-

(Heartbeat)

Who’s talking to Taliyah is she safe how’d they get in-

(Heartbeat)

Are they armed how many are there why are they-

(Heartbeat)

I CAN’T LET IT GO WRONG NOT NOW-

(Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat)

STOP, STOP! Channel your energy, what do you need?

(Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat)

I need to survive.

(Heartbeat HeartBeat Heartbeat)

What else do you need?

(Heartbeat HeartBeat Heartbeat)

To keep Taliyah safe.

(Heartbeat HeartBeat Heartbeat)
How will you do that?

Cold sweat accumulates beneath Emanons jacket. He shudders, eyes focused on the dim light painting the back wall of the shop. He shuffles on the floor, moving his legs into position, and maps out the route in his mind.

3

(Heartbeat)

2

(Heartbeat HeartBeat Heartbeat)

1

(Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat)

His boots squeak on the shop floor as he launches off his legs, vaulting over the counter and rushing towards the hallway.


Emanon does his best not to slow down as he turns the corner toward the sitting room. A muffled crunch from the wall tells him he didn’t quite account for the weight of his backpack when he set his speed.

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception test, target 7, result 9. Will use this for the rest of the scene.)

“...you think you are doing here, Tabitha?” Emanon hears Taliyah say.

“We’ve come to take out the trash, old lady,” a female voice drips with contempt in reply.

He continues on regardless, and quickly crosses the now-empty sitting room. Long strides; one, two, side-step around the pile of firewood. Past the fireplace and chair, he can see an alcove on the far side of the fireplace that leads to a short hallway that then turns to the right, this time with a creamy white and blue wallpaper pattern. Behind him, Emanon hears the sound of breaking glass from the direction of the shop.

“Your parents would be ashamed, and these gatherings?! It’s no feat to guess what you’ve been up to.”

“Read my lips, old lady: I. Don’t. Care.”

Emanon gladly rounds the second corner more cleanly. Then, he sees Taliyah standing across from an open, exterior door located about fifteen feet down the left-hand side of an otherwise straight hallway. The hallway opens up a bit in front of the door, while behind Taliyah, on the right-hand side of the hallway, is a staircase that leads up to the second floor of the house. The old woman seems agitated, but his cursory glance seems to indicate that she is otherwise unharmed.

“Well, I’m not scared of you and your...your boys. You’re just a bunch of thugs,” Taliyah says loudly, with a dismissive gesture to those gathered.

“We’re way past threats. The road goes only one way from here,” says the young woman as she stands just inside the open door. She’s dressed in what appears to be a deep maroon and black leather corset with bleached whalebone supports, and short, tight, black leather leggings that have side-lacing all the way from the mid-calf hem, up to the high waist, with further lacing in front exposing her navel. Her feet are bare. The outfit is clearly made for pleasure, not warmth, capped off with a lacy black shrug with three-quarters sleeves that end in a decorative ruffle of fabric.

Whoever she is, it seems clear the cold is not bothering her, despite a heavy draft coming into the house from the open door behind her. But, while her appearance is clearly meant to draw attention, Emanon’s more immediate concern in the first few seconds after seeing them turns toward the two figures that flank her.

The closer of the two turns to face Emanon and effectively blocks view of things further down the hall; the figure is roughly average in height, with a bare, hairless chest and corded muscles that ripple beneath a deathly-pale skin, heavily marred with soot-stains and streaks of some clear liquid that seems to have been poured across the shoulders at some point. A pair of black, uncomfortably tight-looking hot pants are the only piece of clothing on the person.

But then, Emanon’s eyes drift up to the wolf-mask.

A cheap latex pullover mask shaped into the head of a cartoonish wolf, also stained with soot and some reddish substance that seems to have leaked from the empty eye-holes and from the open muzzle, bares a few lonely fangs half-heartedly. Most-disturbingly, the mask seems both too-large for a normal person’s head, but also has a deflated, wrinkled surface that leaves Emanon with the inescapable impression that there isn’t any human head inside the mask at all.

In its right hand, the wolf-masked figure holds a torch that is belching a thick, black smoke. It takes a step forward and spreads its long arms, as if to block Emanon’s further passage down the hallway, then roots itself to the spot, about halfway between Emanon and the others.


A moment of hesitation assails Emanon but the adrenaline swiftly washes it away. He quickly adjusts his hold on the shotgun, channeling tension into his strongarms and lunging forward, preparing to slam its stock against the masked man's head.

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 13

The wolf-masked figure drops its torch as Emanon approaches.

(Emanon 1st-Ranked Strength roll, target 6, result 1.)

As Emanon begins to thrust the stock of the shotgun into the wolf-mask, it lifts both arms up suddenly and hits Emanon’s hands and shotgun upward. The stock does connect with something inside the mask, but it is only a glancing blow, which his opponent shrugs off with ease, barely making a sound.
The wolf-masked figure grabs the barrel with one hand, grabs the grip with the other and looks ready to wrestle for control of the gun with Emanon, but Emanon releases the weapon rather than risk an accidental discharge inside the hallway while struggling with the weapon. Now holding the shotgun, the figure backs away from Emanon quickly while holding the gun at waist-level, pointed at Emanon.

“Hold up,” Tabitha says suddenly. The wolf-masked figure turns toward Tabitha and the woman gestures over her shoulder before stepping to the side. The wolf-masked figure takes the shotgun and throws it out the open door with considerable foce. “If I’d known you had a gentleman visitor, Taliyah, I wouldn’t have skipped the formalities.”

“I’d appreciate it if you left,” Taliyah replies bluntly. “Leave my guest alone.”

“Oh, protective of your boy toy? If I’d known you were into this kind of thing, I’d have gotten you an invite.”

Taliyah rolls her eyes so hard it’s practically audible.

“What about you?” Tabitha asks Emanon. “Wanna have some fun?”

(Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 10.)

Emanon can tell that she is honestly offering a non-violent resolution to the immediate conflict, but what exactly “fun” might entail is less clear. From the manner in which she said it, Emanon gets the impression that she would’ve needed to ask someone to give Taliyah an invite, which might suggest Tabitha isn’t exactly in a position of authority in whatever has been happening. More obviously, she either doesn’t know who Emanon is, doesn’t recognize him for who he is, or doesn’t care.


“Well, between fun and getting burnt alive I’ll take fun-”

Emanon shifts his gaze, making eye contact with Tabitha.

“On the condition that Taliyah joins us.”


“Then we have ourselves a bargain,” Tabitha says as a broad smile moves from her full, maroon-painted lips up to her green eyes. She reaches up and adjusts the long, black hair pins that hold a coil of medium-width braids of dark brown hair in a stack just behind the crown of her head. “I’ll see if I can’t cancel this house fire before it gets out of hand.” She turns to the second of the figures beside her and makes a “round-’em-up” gesture. “No promises, though.”

“A party, eh?” Taliyah asks.

“Yeah, seems your boy toy wants to spice things up,” Tabitha replies. “And I am all about that scene.”

“Then I suppose I’ll go put on something more appropriate.” Taliyah heads up the stairs with a bit of pep in her step.

Tabitha has meanwhile walked over to where the wolf-masked figure dropped it’s torch on the floor of the hallway. She picks up the torch gingerly, then quickly stomps out the small charred area on the hardwood floor, her bare feet jabbing quickly at the burnt area and smudging out a few embers.

“You’ll be fine in what you are wearing,” Tabitha says as she hands the torch off to another figure in a fairly similar wolf-mask that came in to replace the one that left. “Lose the backpack, though; not much point bringing stuff, anyhow.” She gives a brief chuckle as she smears black ash from her foot on a different area of the floor. “Feel free to lose some of the clothes, too,” she says as she bats her eyelashes playfully at Emanon.


Channeling his relief, Emanon manages to crack a genuine smile.

“Alright, just gonna take a moment upstairs myself. Don’t want to leave Taliyah alone.”

He starts down the hallway, taking care to appear confident and self assured.


Tabitha playfully swats at Emanon’s backside as he passes. “Don’t be too long,” she says.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, Emanon faces a hallway that splits the second floor of the house from front-to-back. Ten feet down the hall, about halfway along its length, there is a closed door on the left. Directly across from it, there’s an open door. Based on the orientation, Emanon guesses the room with the open door is more-or-less above the sitting room with the fireplace.


Conscious of Tabitha's words Emanon doesn’t linger, taking a few steps down the hall to where the doors lay.

“Taliyah, it’s me. Are you okay?”


“Come in, come in,” Taliyah says quietly as the door on the left opens to reveal her mid-wardrobe change, currently in little more than a slip. “Put your young hands to work and help fasten me up, if you don’t mind,” she continues, but this time rather louder, turning her head past Emanon, as if to aim her voice down the stairs. She beckons Emanon into the room.

“Good.”

Emanon strides over to the bed, taking off his pack and perusing its contents. He does so as quietly as possible and follows Taliyah's lead in lowering his voice.

“Unless there’s something more important I’d like to know who’s been up to what and why.”


“Well, first, I wasn’t entirely joking about helping me dress,” the old woman says as she crosses from the entrance to the bedroom to a large cedar chest at the foot of the large, four-post bed upon which Emanon has laid his backpack. “The smell of smoke is doing little to calm my nerves, but let’s assume we have at least a couple minutes before any remaining fire is either dealt with, or serious enough that we are forced to evacuate.”

Carefully opening the chest, Taliyah pulls out a simple smock -- little more than a large rectangle of off-white suede leather with a hole in the middle for one’s head -- along with a handful of colorful sashes, scarves, and maybe a ribbon or two.

“While I dress, and you help me where possible, I will need you to listen.” She pauses and looks Emanon in the eye. “We likely won’t have much time to ourselves to talk at this party, so let’s get some things out of the way.”

“Firstly,” she says as she places the smock in Emanon’s hands and gestures that he should hold it up and out, above her head, while she simultaneously shrugs off her slip and raises her arms out to the side. Emanon notices she has a distinct tremor in her hands, much more evident than he’d recognized during their more casual interactions. As he helps her fit the smock and gather the fabric around her waist and gather the fabric around each arm into short sleeve-cuffs just below her shoulder, she continues.

“Tabitha...well, everyone, really...can’t be trusted. I’ve known this for some time, I think, but it’s especially evident just now. Forget that they clearly intended to kill me, and possibly you as well, but even if they seem to be making friends now, I am afraid this is all part of some larger ruse or effort to complicate things. While I am short on evidence to back up my hunch, we won’t have to wait long to see what they are up to, because I am now fairly certain that they haven’t been hiding anything from the start. Rather, both you and I just weren’t part of their circle, so we didn’t get updates when they started doing strange things around the village green.”

As she talks and Emanon adjusts and straightens her dress, Taliyah removes the hairpins holding her bun in place atop her head, and a quite impressive quantity of silver-gray hair spills down her back. Emanon is struck by it’s silky texture and bounce as it drapes down a few inches past her tailbone.

“While we are at it, let me call your attention to a detail or two that struck me about our unpleasant visitors,” she says as she guides Emanon’s hands, as they hold a ribbon, to weave a decorative piece of abalone-shell into place on the back of the old woman’s head. “Did you notice they aren’t wearing shoes? That strikes me as unwise at this time of year, even for people who clearly have put some effort into being *undressed* as much as they are *dressed.*”

She demonstrates how to fasten a decorative sleeve of colored porcupine quills and glass beads around her forearm by placing one on her left arm and tying the leather thongs with her teeth and right hand, then gestures for Emanon to finish tying it.

“They also didn’t seem much interested in your gun, or really in fighting much at all, period,” she muses out loud. Emanon finishes with the left forearm, which now sports a colorful vambrace with a nice picture of a lone, large tree. He goes on to affix a similar piece of jewelry to her right arm, this one sporting a simplistic depiction of a crescent moon behind the profile of the head of a rabbit.

“Still, even if they don’t mean us physical harm, I suspect they are up to something unwholesome. Be cautious.” She pauses to inspect her appearance in a long, ovoid mirror framed in dark wood that stands beside a hat-stand to one side of the entrance to the bedroom.
“Now, a question. You have time for...let’s say two. Think carefully of what to ask me, and keep it brief, or else our visitors may get antsy and go back to setting the house on fire.” Taliyah looks at Emanon as she hands him a necklace of braided black leather cords and purple mussel shells to place about her neck and fasten in the back.


Returning to his pack Emanon extricates the flashlight and knife, moving them into some of his deeper pockets. He also lays the bundled book onto the bed, letting his gaze linger on it before turning back to Taliyah.

“Alright: What have they been doing on the green and how much of the village do you think is on their side?”

Having spoken his queries Emanon’s eyes briefly move about the room before finding themselves affixed to the open wardrobe and its contents.

Maybe Hektor's clothes?

[Phelix-Mu]

Discord Backlog 14

“Well, those are fairly easy for me to answer, though I am not sure that you will find my answers helpful,” Taliyah says as she finishes inspecting her appearance in the mirror one last time. “The others have no doubt been meeting at the green, probably mainly in the barn in bad weather. This is fairly easy to guess because it’s really the only place in the village to meet.” She reaches into the bottom of the wooden wardrobe beside the bed and pulls out a pair of fur-lined leather moccasins, which she quickly dons.

“As for who is on their side, I am fairly sure it’s everyone. The children are probably only on the side of whoever isn’t neglecting them at the moment, if that’s any consolation. Angela and I are really the only exceptions that jump to mind, though I am not sure everyone that is nominally on their side will really hold that conviction under duress.”

Taliyah notices Emanon looking at the wardrobe thoughtfully. “Trying to figure out what to wear yourself, eh? Well, you’ll be disappointed to know I buried Hektor in his only dress clothes,” she says with a sigh. “Not that they’d fit you, anyhow, as you look to be about a foot taller than he was. But there are some fairly loose-fitting jackets and flannels in there, and maybe one pair of corduroy slacks where we can undo the hem.” The old woman taps her chin thoughtfully. “If we go by what Tabitha’s cohorts were wearing, though, you may be better off selecting one piece of clothing and taking it off.”


“I think I’ll skip stripping for now, wait to see how warm wherever they’re taking us is. Now…”

His attention returns to the book. He points to it, as if indicating something obvious, before speaking in a low voice.

“Also, those kids this morning were wearing masks as well. Have they been doing that for a while?”


“Those children,” Taliyah says with a heavy sigh. “I want to think that they are just copying the bad behavior of everyone else, but it’s hard to tell, since a couple of them always seemed to enjoy teasing Angela more than they should. But, while they may have had masks before, it’s now clearly a game they’ve made that centers around wearing the masks and going around pretending to engage in anti-social behavior.”


“So the game came after the masks, I’m guessing these gatherings have been going on for a while.”

Saying this, Emanon approaches Taliyah till not even a foot separates them. Appearing slightly anxious he points at the book again, speaking more quietly still.

“I’m sorry, I’ll use my words. Any ideas on keeping it safe?”

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0135: The Book (Emanon)

"I'm afraid the best advice I can give is to try to keep it safe, but I can't think of anywhere that would guarantee that at this point." She sighs and turns from the mirror to face Emanon. "Alright, I am ready to leave when you are." Taliyah turns and walks a few steps toward the door, then stops and looks back at Emanon, as if to imply 'are you ready,' but without actually saying as much.

[Heim]

Post #0136: The Book (Emanon)

Emanon turns to the book, staring at it, regretting that he hadn't and wouldn't be able to solve it's mystery for some time. Turning back to Taliyah he speaks quietly as before.

"Well, best way to know something's safe is to not let it out of your sight."

Saying this, he grabs the book and, after a moment of maneuvering, manages to secure it within the folds of his jacket. His solution decided he then crosses the room to join Taliyah at the doorway, extending a hand to her once he arrives.

"Shall we?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0137: The Book (Emanon)

Emanon and Taliyah walk downstairs, where they find that Tabitha has departed and has left them in the care of a shorter, male figure, possibly another lackey. In contrast with the tall figure in the wolf mask, this figure is wearing a pair of black, shiny leather buckskins, no shirt, and a full-coverage, vintage gas mask, painted in a combination of matte black and army green. He grunts as they approach and gestures for Emanon and Taliyah to follow.

Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception Roll, target 7, result 3.
(http://https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25300845&postcount=2)

The Village Green is perhaps even more-heavily wreathed in thick, low-lying fog now than it was on Emanon’s previous trip, but now the moon shines down ominously, high in the sky. Moonlight and torches combine to cast strange, smokey shadows. As the trio crosses the Green, Emanon can vaguely hear a sound that could be someone playing hopscotch on the playground to the right of the open lawn, but the fog limits visibility. Up ahead, a dark wall looms, and a handful of figures, moving alone or in pairs, melt into view. A woman with a crew-cut, wrapped in blood-red linen bandages under a white pair of short shorts. Two men wearing pink pleather bodysuits and hoods, zippers over their eyes and mouth. A woman in six-inch platform heels and a long, glittery ball gown with a ragged hem. No one seems to take any notice of Emanon or Taliyah, and the fog quickly reclaims anyone more than ten feet distant.

The dark wall ahead is in fact the front side of the large red barn situated at the far end of the Village Green. Torches flank the building, but seem to be in a losing battle against the combined forces of the fog and the darkness of the night. Ahead, a woman with a full head of long, dark ringlets stands next to a bald, muscular man, each clad only in black-and-white body paint that transforms their skin into an exquisitely-detailed skeletal pattern. They lean against the wooden-plank wall, the woman just to the left of a door, facing the newcomers, while the man is further to the left and faces the woman. Both seem lost in the enjoyment of scented cigarettes and blow smoke out of their nostrils, an impressively-large mess of the burnt-out butts of earlier cigarettes on the ground about their feet. The figure in the gas mask slides the door to the right, exchanges a brief nod with the woman in bodypaint, before he enters the barn.

Taliyah looks briefly at Emanon, as if to say something, but a sudden surge of loud music blares from inside the barn. She shakes her head and follows the figure in the gas mask into the barn.

[Heim]

Post #0138: The Book (Emanon)

As she and the masked man move out of sight into the barn Emanon's knees give way. Paying little heed to the unlikely chance that anyone was watching him he takes a moment on the ground to recover and think.

Had time skipped again? He didn't remember any more about this walk to the green than the last, or the walk back which had followed for that matter.

Third times the charm... Not.

Still, there were more important things to worry about than that. The faint sound of hopscotch for one but also what awaited him in the barn. He and Taliyah must've been spared for a reason, whether that reason be nuanced or just a passing whim, and either way these people certainly didn't value their safety.

Still, he couldn't help but be impressed by the effort on display. Each party goers appearance was more distinct than the last and brought recollections of some particularly elaborate Halloween costumes he'd borne witness to.

Making a mental note to look for Angela should pandemonium break as a result of the barn accidentally catching fire Emanon stands up, takes a deep breath and enters the barn.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0139: The Barn (Emanon)

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25331947&postcount=3 Emanon 2nd-Ranked Perception roll, target 7, result 2.


Inside the barn, Emanon is immediately confronted by two impressions.

Firstly, the barn itself is quite large. Even with it’s impression of being a fairly bustling party from the sound and sight of people moving about, the barn is not crowded, save in certain places where people have grouped together. The light and smoke seem to obscure the true size of the place; darkness gathers above the partygoers, away from the torches and candles, with no sign of the roof from below.

Secondly, the temperature inside the barn is quite warm. Dressed for the wintry weather outside, Emanon is almost immediately uncomfortable and beads of sweat quickly dot his forehead.

Beyond the immediately obvious, though, scenes across the barn seem to clamor for his attention. A mere few steps from the entrance, across the old, uneven pine floorboards, a low table sits, covered almost entirely in melted and melting candles. Among the candles are several dozen, half-filled cups of fragrant, purple wine. Suspended a few feet above the table, a pale, unclothed man hangs motionless in midair, arms and legs spread by the hooks and chains, skin blotched here and there with reddish paint. Looking more closely, Emanon can see that the man’s skin bears piercings in many places, following some abstract pattern of scarification that has been etched into his flesh, which serves, albeit poorly, to funnel into the cups below the purple wine that is dripping onto his drooped, bald head from a large, bulging sheepskin stretched on chains above him. Around the table, a handful of people in elaborate harlequin costumes stand and chat, sipping wine from short, pewter cups. One shorter harlequin stares blankly at Emanon, face a blank slate, green eyes unseeing.

Emanon blinks after the awkwardly-protracted eye contact and looks to his right. His eyes are drawn toward the focus of several strobe lights, which serve to illuminate a woman sitting on a swing about fifteen feet above the ground. She swings slowly, naked, trailing the long chains of white daisies and black-eyed susans, clearly not meant to secure her modesty. The flashing strobes seem to highlight the slowness of her motion, but also flash off a bright set of white teeth behind parted, heavily-rouged lips. Below the woman on the swing, an enigmatic nook, hidden in darkness and the tell-tale signs of black-lights, peeks from behind a cluster of tall shelving units that have been draped in dark, velvety fabrics. Someone is moving within, just out-of-sight, and Emanon senses watchful eyes upon him.

To the left of the entrance is some kind of stairs that seem to lead up and down. As some loud music surges from further within, alongside a strange, slow rhythmic clanking of metal, Emanon’s observations are interrupted as he senses a need to move away from the entrance, where he may shortly be directly in the way of anyone seeking to enter or exit the barn through the sliding door.

[Heim]

Post #140: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon moves out of the entry path and positions himself near the stairs, away from the other attendees.

Well, what now?

He wasn't exactly here of his own volition and the bizarre spectacles scattered about the barn failed to fully capture his attention as his conversation with Taliyah began to replay in his mind. He wondered where she was, apparently she had a lead on him. Actually, she'd probably meant to say something to him before the music cut her off. Now that he thought about it he'd, as far as he knew, been alone during the times where he had gaps in his memory. He wanted to ask Taliyah about his behavior on the walk, or at least tell her that he thought a new gap was apparent.

Of all the times for her to disappear though...

This wouldn't have been an issue if he'd kept pace with her and they'd entered as a pair. As it stood she'd left him behind, although it probably wouldn't be hard to reattach himself to her, but that was assuming she'd be easy to find. Regardless of whether he talked with her now he should definitely confirm where she was.

He could ascend or descend the stairs but it seemed unlikely she'd gone to another floor already so logically he should finish combing the current one... but then there was that nook. Maybe he'd be walking into a trap, although Tabitha had seemed genuine in her offer it occurred to him that he might well be hung from the ceiling like a certain wine server he'd just seen. There was also the fact that he wanted to learn more about the party generally, although he didn't see any easy places to start with on that front.

Maybe she's the one watching me, or maybe she's been taken to that area.

He stares into the faintly visible, black lit crevice below the swinger.

"(Sigh)... Well, no turning back and all."

Sighing and mumbling under his breath he makes his way over to the darkly draped shelves, his gaze finding its way to the empty eyed harlequin from earlier as he walks.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0141: The Barn (Emanon)

The short harlequin’s gaze remains fixed straight ahead, as if in some sort of trance, and is no less unsettling as Emanon passes in front of the door again, making for the darkened nook. Breaking eye contact as he nears the nook, he glimpses a large piece of machinery of some kind, suspended from the ceiling a ways beyond the man suspended from the ceiling. It seems to be an engine or transmission from some sort of large vehicle, minus the vehicle, and Emanon recognizes it as the source of a slow and rhythmic, metallic clanking sound that has been audible under the louder peals of music that are filtering out from deeper within the barn.

A familiar voice nearby draws his attention away from the machinery as he steps closer to the dark nook. The strobe lights pulse as a familiar-looking woman emerges from the darkness amidst the shelves.

“**** you, slut,” the woman shouts over the noise, mid-spin as she walks backwards for a moment, her curse aimed back into the darkness. “If I catch you again, I’ll cut your ****ing nose off.”

Tabitha is so caught up in whatever is happening that she backs directly into Emanon before he can step to the side. The collision isn’t enough to do more than push him onto his back foot, but the contact presses into his jacket. He feels the shape of the book against his torso, ever so briefly, but the sound of his heart seems to echo in his ears across the span of several beats.

“Whoa, honey,” the short woman says as she turns to face him, her demeanor abruptly intimate, as she places her left hand on a spot just above Emanon’s belt buckle, ostensibly to steady herself. “I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone any further…exploration," she says with a wide smile and soft eyes. "Wouldn’t want to keep my lady waiting.”

She purses her lips in a kissing motion, spins again as she deftly steps past Emanon and continues on her way, pausing only to grab one of the short pewter glasses of wine from the table of beverages as she goes.

[Heim]

Post #142: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon stares at Tabitha as she walks away, unconsciously clutching his still beating chest.

What are the odds...

Turning his attention briefly to the clanking contraption he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Odds to good to pass up.

He starts making his way after Tabitha at a pace slightly faster than hers. Eventually, once he's at a suitable distance, he speaks up.

"Wait, could you do me a favor?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0143: The Barn (Emanon)

A satisfied smile spreads across Tabitha’s face.

“Hold that thought,” she replies and turns toward the group of harlequins, only a few steps away. “Hey, you there, shortstack,” she says loudly. The short harlequin snaps to attention and points at herself as she tilts her head. “Yes, you. Go tell our mistress that I’ll be along after I deal with our guest.” The harlequin nods in response and heads over to the stairs to the left of the entrance.

“Now,” Tabitha says before she quickly downs the contents of the cup, “what’s this I hear about a favor?” She tosses the empty cup to the side and moves toward Emanon, her demeanor softening noticeably as she places herself just a few inches away from him, her head about even with his solar plexus. Her hands move toward the waistband of his pants before stopping, as if unsure where to perch themselves.

[Heim]

Post #144: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon's eyes flit to the harlequin as she walks down the stairs before quickly returning to Tabitha, whose own eyes he finds as he cracks a small smile of his own.

"I don't mean to disappoint, it's just something small..."

He pauses briefly to consider his words, expanding his smile as he does so.

"For now. You mentioned your mistress a second ago. Everything's gone so fast that I don't even know who's the host here, would that be her? I want to know who I owe for the party. Of course, I owe you for the invitation. Thanks a lot for that."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0145: The Barn (Emanon)

“Ah,” Tabitha says flatly, with an odd mix of disappointment and distraction. “So you’re not familiar with Lorelei.” She moves back slightly and crosses her arms across her chest, which, whether intentionally or by habit, has an impressive effect on her bust, though the pleasure of the flirtation now seems to have been replaced by a thoughtful pursing of her lips. After a long moment, however, she spreads her arms wide, hands outstretched, smiles and gives an indulgent shrug. “You’ll meet her eventually, don’t worry.”

Emanon has the passing impression that Tabitha nearly stifles a laugh as she turns and retrieves two of the pewter glasses from the short table of refreshments. But the impression has passed as she returns and offers a glass to Emanon, even as she takes a slow sip from her own.

“Let’s not get hung up on the details,” she says as she holds her cup just below the level of her lips, swirling the wine within in a slow, circular motion. Her eyes meet Emanon’s, and he feels an increase in the sexual energy behind her intense gaze. “I am pleased that you agreed to come to the party,” she says quietly, intimately, “so no need to thank me.”

[Heim]

Post #146: The Barn (Emanon)

Appearing to take things in stride Emanon accepts the glass from Tabitha, mimicking her swirling motion as he stares into the liquid.

"I see, that's good to hear. Sorry if I touched on a sore spot there."

He looks up from the beverage to find Tabitha's gaze, attempting to soften his expression when he finds it.

(Heartbeat)

"Like I said, everything's happened so quickly so I just-"

He looks down at the floorboards, heaving a sigh whose air exits unevenly.

"You know?"

(Heartbeat Heartbeat)

Bringing the beverage to his lips he tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

(Heartbeat Heartbeat)

He begins selecting moments from his turmoil for recall. The tension of yesterday night, the confusion of his encounter with the doppelganger, the horror of realizing his memory was shot, the fear he felt at the rising glow of flames behind Taliyah's counter.

(Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat)

Mimicking the motion of swallowing, with no drink flowing down his throat, he recalls Tabitha's gaze as he saw it a moment prior. A gaze full of energy and intent. Intent he has not the confidence, foreknowledge or desire to match.

Can't let this look fake!

(Heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat)

His nerves alight with the ghosts of past duress he finally swallows some wine. It hardly manages its way down before his head and the glass fall abruptly forward, with the latter clattering against the aging wood below. Embracing the weakness in his legs Emanon sways and stumbles a few steps backwards. The remaining liquid in his mouth evacuates in a mix of splutters and coughs while he continues to back away. Out of the corner of his eye he spots the candle covered wine table and braces himself. Appearing to use it for support, his hand sinks into the mass of hot, malleable wax, making an uneven print of itself.

"Agh!"

With piercing heat stinging his hand Emanon's arm glides over the table, catching candles and wineglasses in its path which are knocked to the floor. He croaks out a strained "Sorry!" sandwiched between a cough and a moan before lowering his head and making hurriedly for refugee in the darkness of the nook.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0147: The Barn (Emanon)

Within the cluster of shelving units, Emanon finds a small, fairly claustrophobic space, walls swaddled in black velvet sheets, lit by black lights. The entire center of the square nook is occupied by a circular wooden table, about four feet in diameter. Forward and crammed into the left corner next to the table is a large terrarium, about two feet by two feet, and rising up to a couple feet above Emanon’s head, the likely source of the scent of moist soil that fills the nook. Aside from several wooden branches, the main feature within the terrarium is a mass of tangled spider webs. The webs are clumped so heavily that they resemble cotton gauze more than the more ornate webs that Emanon remembers seeing in the tall grass around the edge of the lake. A hint of movement within the terrarium makes him catch his breath, his hand still sore from the burning hot wax; he realizes with some alarm that the top couple feet of the terrarium are not enclosed fully.

Across the circular table from Emanon is the other, most-notable thing in the room: a pale-skinned woman sitting at the table, knees drawn up to her chest. A mess of greasy black ringlets sits atop her head, apparently gathered in the back with some hair pins, and the black light imparts an ethereal glow to the patches of skin that peek out of a simple slip of white lace. Her eyes are sunken, which, combined with her impossibly slender build, gives her a sickly appearance as she moves her hands across a set of oversized cards fanned out, face-down, into an arc in front of her. Emanon’s eyes are drawn to the single face-up card on the table, situated directly in front of him, decorated by a scene of angels fighting skeletal fiends beneath a lone seraph that hoists a trumpet aloft. The seraph is flanked by the two halves of the word “JUDGE-MENT.”

“Sit, stand, whatever,” the woman says, her voice hoarse and strained. “Best stay, though, after that…performance.” Her eyes suddenly flash open, revealing black pools instead of normal eyes, possibly some cosmetic contact lenses. The effect is quite unnerving, especially when paired with the normal-looking eyes that Emanon now realizes are painted on her eyelids.

[Heim]

Post #148: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon sits. Looking away from his erstwhile hosts "eyes" he finds himself looking at the tarot cards illustration, heaving deep, quiet breaths to steady his nerves.

Not liking how it's THAT card that's face up.

Next, he looks at the terrarium once again, taking a moment to observe the yet unseen spiders impressive work. The space as a whole, though unnerving, also gave the impression of being cut off from the environment outside it. Even the music and clanking of the contraption seem somewhat distant. A feeling of relief at his apparent good fortune rises to the surface of Emanon's thoughts. Recognizing that this feeling has begun to function as a signal of coming misfortune Emanon's eyes fall to the woman sitting across from him. It's as he starts picking apart the wax coating his hand, displaying a grimace he wonders if she can see, that he finally speaks.

"While my visit lasts, I wouldn't mind having the cards read. If you wouldn't mind reading them."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0149: The Barn (Emanon)

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25354833&postcount=5
Perception Test, Target 7, Result 5.

The woman looks at Emanon for a long moment; then he reminds himself that it only looks that way and her eyes are actually closed. She reaches her left hand toward something unseen beneath her side of the table and produces a small case made of shiny silver, about the size of a deck of playing cards, which she places just to her left on the tabletop. Opening it, she withdraws a small square of white paper and a minute envelope from the case, and begins to roll a joint that she fills with some mixture of dried plant-matter and a salt-and-pepper colored powder, all with only her left hand. Her right arm remains wrapped around her knees. Watching her move, Emanon perceives that she is very small for her height, a step beyond exceptionally slight of build.

Eyes still closed, she nods at Emanon. “Apology.” She places the slender joint between her lips and produces a leather-wrapped, old-fashioned lighter, a little smaller than a can of beer, from beneath the table. After a moment of fiddling with the flint mechanism, a flame appears. “Tabitha decides to come bother me again or not, thus we wait,” she says as she raises the lighter to the end of the joint, again only using her left hand. As the joint flares up, she takes a long, deep drag, her inhalation punctuated by an alarmingly-loud, hollow rattle sound. Her pallor brightens to an almost flush tone as she holds her breath. Emanon finds himself unconsciously counting; ten seconds…twenty seconds…. A full thirty seconds pass, then the woman finally exhales the smoke slowly through her nostrils, causing an exotic, bright fragrance to fill the eerie silence of the black-lit nook, potent enough to make his eyes water.

“Unfortunate. She leaves. Would spare me words if she came and chased you off.”

She shrugs and begins a second, shorter inhalation, following the same pattern. Afterward, her eyes open, watery black holes in her face.

“You know how?” she asks, gesturing at the cards.

[Heim]

Post #150: The Barn (Emanon)

His focus having lapsed during her lengthy drag, Emanon resumes peeling the wax from his hand. He stares into her “eyes” as a pair of small tears fall from his, owing to the smell, lost in thought. It’s only after several seconds of silence that her question registers to him.

“...I guess not. What should I do?”

Also, you’d prefer the person who threatened to cut off your nose show up than have me stick around?

This last part is left unsaid. Many curiosities about the woman bounce around in Emanon’s head but he phrases none of them. Above all, he’s reminded of Taliyah. On the surface they both seem to strongly contrast Tabitha in various ways (Maybe Tabitha has a problem with people who do that) and they both practice something he mentally identifies as “reading”.

Divination she called it… I shouldn’t assume what this is without knowing unless I want to embarrass myself again.

Having again circled back to his earlier conversation with Taliyah he finds himself considering the situation as a whole. Though grateful Tabitha hadn’t decided to pursue him he imagines she'll be far less inclined to entertain him when next they met. Overall, the chance of him gaining useful knowledge about these people and their aims seemed especially low in light of that fact. Coupled with his growing fatigue he felt his best option was leaving as soon as possible, but of course, Taliyah was nowhere to be found.

Pushing these thoughts aside he stares into her "eyes" once again. The thing about her which most reminds him of Taliyah is that they both project a sense of “awareness”, like they could see right through him, though he feels that the type of awareness and where it comes from is different. It's because of this that he felt compelled to ask her for a reading in the first place.

Maybe they know each other. Should I ask for her name at least?

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0151: The Barn (Emanon)

The woman sitting across from Emanon gives a slow groan, her gaze cast downward for a moment as she pinches the bridge of her nose with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Retrieving the joint from her mouth, she exhales smoke from her nostrils again, this time with clear hints of impatience.

“Touch cards. Shuffle. Think with your thoughts on your question,” she says, leaning forward over her knees, stray locks of loose curls falling to obscure the elaborately inlaid table top, right hand quickly moving to gather the fanned-out cards. “Focus. Spread cards, face-down. Speak what you seek,” she continues, each successive word feeling more strained as she speaks. “Feel pull of cards. Choose three. Then…,” she says, now practically choking on each word, and then points at Emanon then back at herself with her left thumb as she pushes the somewhat disordered deck toward Emanon, “...then we discuss.”

She leans back and takes a long, shuddering drag on her joint, now about half reduced to ash. After holding her breath for another long pause, she tilts her head back and looks at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. When her moist black pools return to focus on her guest again, Emanon can see several telltale beads of sweat on her forehead.

She gestures impatiently with her left hand, and Emanon perceives that she wants him to get on with it.

[Heim]

Post #152: The Barn (Emanon)

It momentarily occurred to Emanon to call for help on behalf of his host but a seconds thought pushed the idea from his mind. Forgetting every other factor at play it was clear she didn't want him around any longer than he needed to be.

So much for asking her name.

That said, he now found himself trying to make sense of her fevered instructions. Thankfully, most of her words hadn't pertained to him.

Think of A question, pick three cards, then... discuss.

He wondered whether she was up to discussing much of anything given her demeanor but leaving prematurely after she'd gone through the trouble of explaining things seemed wasteful. And so, he spread the cards out in front of him and began to think.

What do I seek?

There was no shortage of things that he sought, those things being answers to questions, though he doubted her ritual would give him a genuine answer to any of them. With Taliyah already in his thoughts her earlier test came to mind. His answer, he thought, had meant to give her an indication of his character. Like this ritual, it had also centered around something he desired, though this time it was not his answer to a question but the answer to his question that seemed important. Indeed, it had been all about him, all reflective of him. Perhaps this was the same way. Whatever was on the other side of the cards, their meaning would be contextualized by his query and his interpretation of them would be reflective of his expectations, beliefs and hopes. If that's how it was, then why not make the question about himself? Thinking this, he finally takes a deep breath.

"How can I change myself to find the answers I seek?"

The words hang in the air fleetingly before Emanon reaches out, quickly selecting a trio of cards at random.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0153: The Barn (Emanon)

“Choose, don’t turn over,” the woman says as Emanon reflects prior to choosing the cards. She puts out the remaining half of her joint on the side of the silver case, then pops the joint into her mouth. A moment later, she swallows loudly.

With his three cards selected, the woman moves suddenly, clambering up onto the tabletop as she gathers and moves the rest of the cards to the side with her right hand. Now, she places the remaining three cards, still face-down, in front of Emanon. She looks down at him, resting on the palms of her hands, her upper body seeming to be draped between her eerily slender arms. As her head dips low toward the cards, he catches a glimpse of shoulder blades and spine, visible in disturbing detail.

“Something to change about yourself to bring…,” she says, ending the phrase with a deep humming sound, “...answers.”

Her right hand hovers in slow circles above the left-most of the three cards arrayed before Emanon.

“Let’s see.”

She flips the card cleanly with her long, bony fingers, revealing JUDGEMENT, beneath the roman numeral XX, the same angels and fiends struggling beneath an angelic herald that Emanon recently saw face-up when he entered the nook, oriented upright relative to his side of the table.

She shrugs. “Maybe with grain of salt, this one; more on that later. This means a great decision, inflection point, lies before you. Something big, and what comes next will change your world. Old ways end, new ways begin.”

“But…more…,” she says, and her hand moves over the center card. Her breath pauses, and the moment stretches as she slowly turns the card over.

Before him, all upside-down, Emanon sees the depiction of a goat-headed demon, sitting cross-legged within a pentagram of burning flames inscribed on the ground around it. THE DEVIL is written beneath the roman numeral XV along the top edge of the card.

“Symbol of dark temptations, hedonism. Burden, like chains, such desires place on the spirit. Inverted, now it represents an end to captivity, freedom from chains. Jailbreak, perhaps.”

Her hand moves to the final of the three cards, then pauses. “The thread continues with….” She flips the card quickly, revealing, upside-down, a tall man hung by one ankle from a scaffold, his face contorted in frustration or pain, clothed only in tight-fitting short shorts. THE HANGED MAN is written beneath the roman numeral XII.

“Grave sacrifice is normal face of card, but, here,” she says, “flipped.” She gives a thoughtful nod, and another deep hum emerges from her abdomen. “Inverted, it’s stagnation, opportunity as it passes.”

Leaving the cards in place in front of Emanon, she slumps back into her chair, feet on the floor, fake eyes fixed forward, arms draped limply over the arms of her wooden chair. She remains there, dreadfully still.

[Heim]

Post #154: The Barn (Emanon)

A change in my world, followed by dark temptations... And sacrifice.

Puzzling over the cards Emanon finds himself making a grim connection, smirking gloomily as it takes shape in his head.

It's like a timeline of today, tonight and what's coming next. No, don't think like that. Think about these as the answer.

And so he continues to think. In fact, the woman had indicated for him to see The Devil and Hanged Man not as indulgence and sacrifice but as freedom and stagnation. Still, his first impression is his strongest. As he turns things over in his head he finds himself looking at her once again. He'd been conflicted on the point till now but the fact that she'd identified the cards and their orientation confirmed she could "see". The question of how threatened to pull his thoughts away from the cards. Depending on what the answer was she might hold important knowledge about the phenomena he'd experienced.

I haven't heard the ringing for a while now...

Ultimately though, he sidelined the idea of probing her. Aside from her demeanor he felt like asking someone ostensibly blind if and how they could see was a bad idea, especially if she was using normal methods of perception he was simply unaware of.

I'll just have to put in a pin in this.

Having found himself considering her words another smaller detail came into focus, one which struck him as odd. Finally, he spoke.

"Why take Judgement with a grain of salt?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0155: The Barn (Emanon)

A long, slow, hollow rattling comes from the woman across from Emanon as she slowly draws herself upright to face him, her simple dress now somehow disheveled. Black inky pools blink open, with her blinking somehow being even more disturbing than the steady gaze of her eyes, the painted-on whites of her eyes on her eyelids disappearing from the bottom on up .

“First card always Judgement.”

[Heim]

Post #156: The Barn (Emanon)

"I see."

Emanon feels unclear on exactly what that means. Judgement HAD been face up when he first arrived but it seemed unlikely that it always appeared as the first card. There must be some context to her words he was missing, context that seemed as though it would be difficult to extract. Putting that aside, he returned to contemplating the cards.

Judgement felt like the most straightforward of the three. Since events had begun to unfold he felt he had been at the crossroads of many important decisions, more than he could recall encountering for a long time. It was a serious shift from the life he'd been leading for so long and it seemed to him that he'd struggled to cope and made mistakes. This feeling had played a key part in how he'd formulated his question. Recent events had shown him that he lacked the ability to change what circumstances he found himself, he could only react to the best of his abilities, but it seemed he'd struggled to do that. He wanted to know what he should be doing differently in order to get to the root of what was going on. In that respect Judgement seemed to say 'You must steel yourself for the decisions yet to come and prepare to make them.'

The Devil seemed to suggest things as well. Emanon could interpret "imprisonment" in a few things. There was a sense that he couldn't leave the barn, not just because Taliyah was absent but also because a deeper instinct told him he couldn't simply walk out of the door. Then there was Taliyah herself. She was the only person he'd interacted with regularly for several years, the only person he'd met who acknowledged that the world was distorted and someone who he'd promised to lend a hand. Even if his goal was to uncover the truth cutting ties with her to achieve that felt unconscionable. Then there was he himself. Why hadn't he simply skipped town at the first hint of fishy activity? Why risk his safety in increasingly dire circumstances? It could be said that he was imprisoned by his desire for answers, a desire connected with just how impactful these events had been on his life. Having lost the sense of security fundamental to his quiet life it seemed he was filling that void with this new commitment to discovering what lay at the root of that upheaval. Thinking this, his hand drifts to the book inside his jacket. He traces its edges with his fingers and makes a fist with his wax coated hand.

If fate's real then it's not in the cards for me to break free of this yet.

Then there was The Hanged Man, stagnation... The word resonated with him. He blinked. Listening, he processed the trickle of noise bleeding in from outside the dark little nook.

What am I doing? How long have I been here?

He'd went through the trouble of making a scene and burning his hand to escape rejecting Tabitha, not to contemplate his behavior in the presence of a dispassionate woman and her pet. Tabitha was probably long gone, maybe she'd even finished speaking with her "mistress", so why was he still here? He looked up at her again, staring into her eyes as he'd done many times now. Reflecting on his thoughts it was clear what the answer was.

"I've come to a decision, and I owe you for putting up with me."

He got up as he spoke, taking another deep breath.

"I can't force you to answer me but there's also no reason I can't ask. Who are you? Why are you here with these people? What are you all planning?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0157: The Barn (Emanon)

The woman points at herself with her left hand. “Tituba.” She takes a long drag on a joint she rolled while Emanon was thinking, but exhales quickly, a measure of color having returned to her face.

After a pause to look at the joint in her left hand thoughtfully, she continues. “Once, Lorelei walks with me, along path ours alone. Now, she turns, walks other path. I remain.” Tituba pauses again, and Emanon spots a lone tear as it runs down her cheek. “Plans? Fate for me is sealed; no cure, no future.” A further pair of tears follow the first, one for each cheek.

As she finishes speaking, a large, hairy tarantula, a little smaller than a dinner plate, crawls up the side of Tituba’s chair and onto the table beside her. Without moving her eyes off of her guest, she strokes the spider’s abdomen gently. A powerful and irrational sense of panic comes over Emanon, and he feels a strong compulsion to run screaming away from the spider. Steadying himself, he manages to maintain his composure, but just barely.

“Apologies, friend means no harm,” she says as she inclines her head toward the tarantula. Her left hand disappears beneath the table again, before producing what looks like a dead mouse. Holding it by the tail with her left hand, she gives it a deft toss into the terrarium. The movement clearly had significance for the tarantula, as it quickly skitters across the table and up into the terrarium.

[Heim]

Post #158: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon shivers as he watches the gargantuan creature ascend back inside its living space.

If I'm going to get so spooked by creepy crawlies like this then I have no chance against what's coming.

Coming down from the brief spike of terror he looks at Tituba once again.

"Tabitha, Tituba, Taliyah. It's really remarkable, the kinds of people I've run across in so little time."

He pauses, shaking his head, both to maintain alertness and break away from the coming reverie.

"Wasn't expecting you to answer me. Not much left to say I think... What do you think Lorelei wants? She's letting Tabitha run around with a mob killing people, why? How does it serve her? Tabitha also said I'd meet her eventually, can't help but wonder what she has in mind."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0159: The Barn (Emanon)

Tituba grunts as Emanon mentions not expecting her to answer. “Answers is all I have,” she says after he finishes. “No understanding of Lorelei here. She no longer seeks that. Explains why our paths diverged. Tabitha seeks one thing: recognition.” Her voice cracks and she coughs, clearing her throat. “She thinks Lorelei can provide that.”

The pale, slender woman takes another drag on her joint and stands up. She steps delicately around some objects Emanon can’t quite see around the edge of the table and makes her way toward him, moving along the side opposite the terrarium. She stops about arm’s length away. The black lights illuminating the nook blink on and off several times, the bulbs briefly emitting a characteristic hum. Tituba turns away from him briefly and reaches behind a swatch of dark fabric and flips some kind of switch from the sound of it. A normal, white light fills the room, coming from a single, exposed bulb on the ceiling. She turns back toward him and looks him slowly up and down, joint burning down slowly in her left hand as her right hand moves about the table, gathering cards and shuffling their order.

“First answer always easy,” she says. She moves her right hand behind her, above the cards, before it suddenly darts down to a card in the middle of the spread. “Always Judgement,” she says as the angelic herald is revealed again. “Interpretation less clear, of course.” She briefly shuffles the cards again, then once more produces the herald, holding it up briefly before letting it fall back onto the table behind her as she turns to face Emanon, taking a step closer. “I can talk fine, but I pay for each word in the currency of pain.”

Tituba turns and reaches back across the table, leaning far forward to reach it; in the bright white light, Emanon can clearly see she is clearly unwell, with little in the way of flesh to conceal beneath her simple slip. She stubs out her joint on the cover of the silver case and abandons it.

“In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.” She moves decisively to Emanon, places a hand on the lapel of his jacket and then moves past him, heading out of the nook and back into the area in front of the entrance to the barn, beckoning him to follow as she passes.

[Heim]

Post #160: The Barn (Emanon)

He stares, mouth slightly agape, as Tituba stands up and walks to the exit of the nook.

Not only can you see, but also walk.

Her words come back to him, 'I pay with the currency of pain'. That seemed to indicate she was in a fair bit of pain right now. A small voice in his head tells him that he should be careful of trusting anyone at the moment but after such an unexpectedly long stay with Tituba he finds himself pleased that he won't be walking alone anymore.

What's happening to me? Have I ever once thought like that before? Still, she seems less self interested than Tabitha at least.

Conscious of the fact that he'd been standing still perhaps a few seconds too long he hastens to follow Tituba. It's as he takes the single step necessary to arrive at the curtains that he becomes aware of a worrying feeling, that being the heaviness of his legs. Suddenly, his eyelids feel heavy.

You've been sitting for at least ten minutes, what's wrong with you? Just a little farther.

And so he went.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0161: The Barn (Emanon)

Tituba leads Emanon over to the entrance to the barn, opens the door and heads outside. Stopping at a distance of a few paces from the entrance, she stops and turns to look back at Emanon.

“Fresh air good for you,” she says and, indeed, Emanon does feel a marked improvement now that he’s away from the cloying and potent smell of the stuff Tituba was smoking. “Deep breaths. Medicine good for me, bad for all others.”

As he looks around, Emanon notes that the fog still hangs heavily about the Green, while the vague hint of darkness up above is all that he can make out regarding the sky.

[Heim]

Post #162: The Barn (Emanon)

It's then that Emanon realizes something. Turning around, he gazes at the entrance to the barn.

What the hell? Seriously, what's wrong with me?

Reorienting himself, he addresses Tituba.

"Are we just out here for some fresh air or are you taking me somewhere? If it's the second one then I'll have to decline, I came here with someone else and need to make sure she's okay."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0163: The Barn (Emanon)

“Humor me,” Tituba replies, making no sign of moving from where she stands, but instead raising her right hand in front of her from where it hung at her waist. A delicate, but quite large, spider crawls up onto her hand, stepping across her knuckles as she rotates her wrist slowly. “Why did you come here?”

[Heim]

Post #164: The Barn (Emanon)

Looking behind himself once again Emanon verifies that the pair of skeletal smokers from the time he arrived are still present. Though they seem preoccupied he nonetheless chooses his words more carefully in case they happen to be listening.

"I don't know which "here" you're referring to exactly. I came to this party because the alternative was being burnt alive, I came to your nook because I wanted to get away from "her" and I followed you out here because you seem to have something in mind, does that answer the question?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0165: The Barn (Emanon)

“Why do you think the old woman came to the party?” she asks pointedly, looking up from the yellow-and-black striped spider as it crawls along her palm. The watery, black surface of her eyes seem to shine strangely in the half-light, and Emanon feels the same sense of panic brought on earlier by the tarantula begin to well up inside him again as he finds himself unable to easily look away from the spider.

[Heim]

Post #166: The Barn (Emanon)

Fearfully gazing away from the spider Emanon frowns. He doesn't remember ever specifying that he came with Taliyah, though, he'd let slip enough details to the point that it might be obvious.

"What do I think? I think she came because the other option was death but... She probably had other reasons, seeing as there were definitely better plans than wandering into the lions den. I could guess at those other reasons but I don't think that's what you want me to do, or is it?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0167: The Barn (Emanon)

“While I don’t know the old woman well, we stand in opposing orientation, so her motives,” she says and then swiftly takes the few steps to close the distance with Emanon, stopping a few inches from him, “are clear to me.” The hand with the spider is now raised high above her head, cocked ever so slightly, and the spider has descended from its perch, suspended by a strand of its silken webbing. As it slowly dangles, inching closer to Tituba’s hair, Emanon feels an unnerving sense of deja vu, while also noticing that the woman before him is pretty tall for someone so slender.

“I find it unlikely she came to save herself,” she whispers.

[Heim]

Post #168: The Barn (Emanon)

At Titubas words a possible explanation for both Taliyahs willingness to attend the party and for her speedy separation from Emanon become clear to him. As it washes over him like a jet of cold water he clutches his stomach, feeling nauseous.

Stay calm, deep breaths, deep breaths, she told you not lose your head.

Even as he tries to reassure himself dark thoughts invade his mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?! Why did I waste so much time sitting around doing NOTHING?!

With endorphins flooding his system Emanon finds it difficult to stabilize himself. His gut urges him to turn on his heels and dash back into the barn but he manages to avoid being hasty on account of realizing some of what Titubas words indicate.

"What do you mean opposing orientation? What do you think she came here to do? Tell me, NOW."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0169: The Barn (Emanon)

“Of course, you already know,” she says, moving her right hand and its dangling spider behind her back and leaning in close to speak into Emanon’s ear. “Tabitha can act like a tame kitten, but she’s a rabid dog. My orientation is opposite the old woman, so it’s clear to me…,” she says, as she steps back one pace to look into his eyes. “…your friend probably wanted to spare you from having to watch.”

[Heim]

Post #170: The Barn (Emanon)

In an instant the sound of his heartbeat becomes overpowering in his ears. All sense of fatigue is wiped from his body as he turns around and adjusts his poise, preparing himself in much the same vein as when the mob had descended upon Taliyah's store. It's despite this state of intense focus that a suppressed voice within his mind breaks from its silence and screams a warning to his fevered mind.

"(Inhale)(Exhale)(Inhale)(Exhale)"

He makes a strained rotation to face Tituba once again. The stare he fixes on her contains a vastly harsher scrutiny than his previous ones. With his pupils dilated, fixed on the vast, dark oceans of her shining eyes, a stray thought scampers by, almost entirely unnoticed.

She was crying earlier. Guess these are her real eyes.

His words exit slowly, almost one at a time, in a tone he would be shocked he could produce if only he had the presence of mind to notice it.

"Where is Taliyah? If you lie, I'll make sure you regret it."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0171: The Barn (Emanon)

“If I take you, are you willing to accept the goodbye that is likely to await?” she asks as she leans forward, eager to hear his reply. “I have no interest in assisting your suicide; we may stand in opposition, but I would not dishonor her effort to keep you alive.”

[Heim]

Post #172: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon blinks. A frustrated expression contorts his face as the searing heat burning his nerves disperses throughout his body, leaving a quaking tension in its wake. Tituba's words force him to recall his swift loss to the masked man back in Taliyah's halls. 'We only survived because of Tabitha's whim', the thought revives the sickening nausea he'd felt a moment before. There was no doubt in his mind about retrieving Taliyah yet he remained outside the barn, vexed. But before his mind could start thinking in circles he found himself reminded of something, or rather, someone. He turned his head in the direction he thought she might still be, though the fog obviously made him less than certain.

Why? You've got someone who depends on you, how can you just throw yourself away like this?

Emanon blinks again, looking at Tituba with a scrutiny along the lines of his earlier gazes.

Seriously, what is wrong with me?

Without so much as a word he turns away from Tituba and marches back into the barn, overcome with a sense of grim determination.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0173: The Barn (Emanon)

The barn is much as Emanon left it. Ahead, some harlequins chatting in low tones beneath the wine server. To the right, the woman on the swing and the nook, now ostensibly empty. To the left, a spiral staircase going up and a shadowy wooden ramp descending into the ground. While no one seems to take much notice of him at the moment, he sees no sign of Taliyah, Tabitha, or any of the familiar flunkies from the moment of near-arson at the shop.

[Heim]

Post #174: The Barn (Emanon)

Without skipping a beat Emanon heads to the left and takes the ramp down into the barns lower level.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0175: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon heads quickly down the ramp, which bounces under his weight with every step, making for somewhat precarious footing, but he presses onward. Once, twice, three times the ramp turns to the left, the tunnel seemingly cut through the dirt and shored up with timbers and plywood, all cast in the flickering light of dimly-lit torches that hang against the wall in the places where the tunnel turns. Toward the end of the current length of tunnel, Emanon sees a crowd of bodies ahead of him, and with the loud music having gradually climbed in volume, it seems clear that he has come upon some sort of musical performance, complete with a crowd of spectators. The closest of the people, seeming to mostly be shirtless, sweaty men doing something that might be construed as dancing.

Regardless of what they are doing, however, they are solidly in Emanon’s way.

[Heim]

Post #176: The Barn (Emanon)

He briefly weighs his options. Tossing his shirt aside and joining them is out of the question, given what he has on hand. Asking them to move seems unlikely to work, if anything it's likely to draw unnecessary attention or even ire. A few other ideas are swiftly dismissed out of hand.

No way in, no way out. God Taliyah why did you do this? Did it never occur to you I'd come anyway? No, it did didn't it? That's what you were going to say before you went inside and left me behind.

The sense of fatigue Emanon felt earlier seemed to creep back into his senses. Staring at the uncanny movements of the crowd he finds himself contemplating all the ways things could have gone differently. It's their faint shadows which eventually draw his eye to the torches, a small smile of satisfaction spreading across his face. He plucks one off a nearby wall and begins walking into the crowd, holding it out in front of him.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0177: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon gets within six inches of the nearest of the dancing men before anyone seems to notice him. The man has brown hair, a scruffy, short beard, and a large lion rampant tattooed across his back. He is only a few inches shorter than Emanon, but with about fifty extra pounds on him, centered around a shamelessly displayed beer belly. After noticing the proximity of the torch Emanon is brandishing, he at first seems a bit confused. But after he manages to get both eyes pointed at Emanon – during which process he takes a quick swig from the bottle of beer he is holding – a slow smile spreads across his face. A couple of his neighbors have now also made way for Emanon, and the man with the paunch raises his beer as he looks at the others.

“Torch Guy!” he shouts, with impressive volume. Almost instantly, four men are echoing “Torch Guy! Torch Guy! Torch Guy!” From there, the chant spreads with alarming speed.

[Heim]

Post #178: The Barn (Emanon)

Emanon is momentarily stunned, staring at the crowd as they deafeningly chant away. Then, as the nature of the situation sinks in, he is beset by a sinking feeling of dread, paralyzed by the question of what he should do next.

It's as he reflexively looks behind him at the stairs to the surface that he finds himself drawn once again to the glow of the torches. All at once an idea takes shape.

He quickly rushes to grab another torch off the wall before returning to the border of the crowd. Once there he inhales sharply and begins banging the two torches together, bellowing-

"TORRRRRRCH!"

And moving into the crowd, as if to say 'Make way!'

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0179
This thread of the story is taking a break. Another thread will commence forthwith, with it's own designation and post count.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0001: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur let out a long sigh of relief; at last, the narrow mountain road was headed downhill again. It seems to have been an hours-long drive slowly up the winding road on a nameless mountain ridge, as the sun dipped low behind another cluster of mountains off to the west. In reality, though, it was a little less than an hour. But there was no doubt that he was on-edge. And with good reason; looking at his dashboard display, he sees that the fuel gauge needle rests soundly on “E,” where it had been for at least half the afternoon. Now, with the road finally sloping downward, at least he could coast along and ease off the accelerator. It was vital that he make it to the floor of the valley ahead, to which the map’s vague indication of a gas station seemed to point.

The map. He hazards a cautious glance at it, folded on the center console, as he drives. Arthur had been following his planned route on it for a little over a week now, as he made his way toward Mirror Lake. At first, everything was fine, and he leapfrogged smoothly between a series of small, roadside motels and even one bed-and-breakfast place a couple days back. Then the last three days happened. First, one of the restaurants noted on the map, a small diner with bright, silvery aluminum fixtures, had its front entrance boarded up. A handmade sign in the window read “Closed for Business - Sorry!”

No big deal; he’d packed several days-worth of food to cover just this kind of circumstance. But that first stroke of bad luck was quickly replicated, and over the next couple days, he’d only managed to find one place to eat, and had struck out twice in the search for somewhere to sleep. A couple of the marks on the map were just wrong. He found empty lots instead of rest-stops with food, or the charred and ashen remains of what appeared to be a house-fire instead of a bed-and-breakfast. Any one of these wouldn’t have been a problem, but after sleeping rough in his car for a couple nights and eating all of the food he’d packed, he was stiff, uncomfortable, and even a bit restless.

Mainly restless at the thought that there might not be a gas station up ahead. The map had been wrong about where those were, too, and he’d driven a full day without refueling. He’d emptied the last of his backup fuel and dry fuel into the tank just this morning, but it had been a long day of feeling tense about his current situation. The road finally levels out as he rounds a corner. Arthur’s headlights illuminate a stretch of road running into a broad, wide valley. Though he can't see all that far in the gathering twilight, he could make out enough to tell one thing for sure: the valley floor was once covered by trees. Now, all that remained were stumps as far as the eye could see.

Off to the left of the road is a large billboard with a damaged sign that reads “New Homes Coming Soon,” but there’s no sign of any homes or construction as he continues to drive. In fact, there’s no sign of anything, and Arthur feels the muscles in his gut tighten into a knot.

The land crests slightly before dipping down again as night falls. He drives across a small bridge and finally catches sight of a distant light illuminating a white sign atop a high pole, with “GAS” written in big letters and “FOOD OIL BEER” in smaller letters beneath before a slightly cursive “2 Miles Ahead.”

[Heim]

Post #0002: The Trip (Arthur)
With the day fading, Arthur reaches to switch on the courtesy lights so that they may supplement the faint glow of the dashboard. After several increasingly frustrated presses he accepts that they too have run dry, deciding instead to test his flashlight, which seems to still hold some charge.

Gazing about the interior of his vehicle he sees his wrinkled sleeping bag in the backseat, upon which lays the notebook he fell asleep studying last night. Perched atop the passenger seat is his rucksack, noticeably lighter now than when he'd first set out on this journey.

Invariably, his gaze finds its way to the rear view mirror. A pair of beaver brown eyes stare back in the uneven light, accompanied by bags and a blonde stubble to match its owners messy hair. The sight reminds him of a reflection he saw in the water not to long ago, and the thought makes him sick. He blinks, shutting off the flashlight and returning his eyes to the road with a deep breath.

The sign was lit up, that's a good indication there's an actual business up ahead. You can resupply, fuel up, ask questions, the works, so keep your chin up.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0003: The Trip (Arthur):
Arthur pulls his coupe into the gas station with a sense of relief. It’s not a fancy affair; roughly a dozen feet up, a trapezoid-shaped, white metal roof stretches out over a pair of dusty, analog gas pumps, each sporting a single nozzle for dispensing modestly-priced Regular fuel and illuminated by dim lights shining down from the roof. A low, single-story, white building with large windows that face the pumps sits toward the back of the lot, with black lettering in the windows advertising “Snacks Oil Coolant Breaks Cold Beverages…BEER.” A stack of spare tires sits to the left of a two-paned glass door, the only entrance to the convenience store, light from within spilling from the door and windows into the dark.

As he pulls his car up to the pumps, Arthur sees little sign of anyone at the station, with the exception of the lights within and a lone, black, commuter-type motorcycle with a rear-mounted cargo box that is parked just to the right of the entrance to the store. As if on cue, a single tumbleweed blows past his car, rolling lazily through the gap between the pumps and the store. A sign above the pumps says “Self-Service Only.”

[Heim]

Post #0004: The Trip (Arthur)
The coupes scratched silver door opens. Out steps a short figure who bends down to touch his toes before straitening up and stretching his arms above his head. A light brown fleece and grey chino's cover the upper and lower halves of his body, with a pair of hiking shoes and dark brown socks protecting his feet. He quickly inserts the pumps nozzle where it belongs before turning his attention to the car itself, checking for wear and tear in need of repair.

As the fuel gauge's needle continues its long anticipated journey from E to F Arthur grabs his bag off the passenger seat and begins walking to the convenience store, feeling optimistic, and not a little vindicated, for the first time in a few days.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0005: The Trip (Arthur)
Perception test, target 7, roll 2.
A silver bell the size of a golf ball, hung above the entrance, rings as Arthur enters the store. To the left is a white formica-topped counter with an old cash register. Off to the right, strings of bright, incandescent bulbs hang from wires strung along the length of several aisles of tall, wooden shelves that reach almost all the way to the ceiling, some ten feet above. Black slate chalkboards at the near end of each row list what can be found in the aisle; a brief scan of them tells Arthur that he can resupply his stocks and more with what can be found here, perhaps even at a slight discount.

He sees no one in the store, but much of it remains out of his line of sight, either down the aisles of shelves, or in what appears to be an adjoining room behind the front counter.

[Heim]

Post #0006: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur traverses the store, using the chalkboards to guide his hunt for supplies. While doing so he finds himself glancing around for signs of its owner. Although he hadn't expected this route to be well populated the sheer lack of civilization had become unnerving. Certainly, the maps had implied habited country where he'd instead found a defunct streak, so a chance to speak with someone who might shed some light on things was more than welcome. Thinking this, Arthur slides the last of his provisions inside the bag before striding down the aisle and making a right towards the counter.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0007: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur’s Roll: Perception test, target 7, roll 2.

As he makes his way to the front counter to make his purchase, Arthur notes that the aisles are surprisingly deep. So deep, in fact, that he is almost startled when there’s a mid-aisle break in the shelf beside him, connecting two aisles about halfway along their length. Almost.

But he is definitely startled when he nearly trips over a short woman wearing a finely-tailored black suit. To be fair, she was backing into his path in a most haphazard fashion, knocking back a long swig from a brown glass bottle as she stepped backwards. Arthur manages to sidestep her before bumping into her, which is probably for the best, since she is quite petite in addition to being short, looking like he might knock her over even though he himself was not that large.

Arthur’s Roll: Perception test, target 7, roll 10.

Taking a better look at his fellow customer, Arthur notices several things. The cut of her suit is immaculate; despite her diminutive figure, she looks trim, professional, and even mildly imposing, with the cut of the suit jacket even giving her a slightly severe appearance. Despite her surprise at nearly bumping into him, she regains her composure instantly, and facilitates his own sidestep with a deft three-quarters spin clockwise, coming to face him as she steps backward down the aisle, toward the back of the store. Her spin reveals black leather suspenders, and Arthur’s eyes are drawn toward a snug, under-arm holster on her right. A matte black handgun with an extended magazine and some sort of red filigree on the textured grip is holstered therein, while the other suspender holds two spare magazines of ammunition. He catches a glimpse of her left hand beginning to instinctively move toward the gun, but she checks herself instantly; a less-keen eye would never have noticed the flicker of movement. She raises the hand holding the bottle to her forehead, attempting to look natural as she swipes her straight, black bangs to the side, though they immediately fall back into place. As she does, Arthur briefly gets a look at some unusual skin growths high on her forehead, but they disappear amid her silky black hair after she completes the motion, and Arthur gets a strange feeling he’s imagining something.

A familiar-feeling strange feeling, as it turns out. Arthur casts his mind back to a street-side ramen stand that he’d been surprised to find earlier today, about mid-morning, but as it was the only food he’d set eyes on since he ate the last of his snack reserves noon the day before, he didn’t really care. The soup’s fragrance had been mouth-watering, and the meal very satisfying, despite the oddness of its location exactly not where the map had any indication of a restaurant of some kind. An elderly woman with curly white hair and a younger, auburn-haired woman who seemed to be her granddaughter were the only people there, and seemed to run the whole place between the two of them. Thinking back, Arthur recalls some now-suspicious seeming comments from the younger woman involving mushrooms and unusual ingredients, and the memory suddenly grants new context to the muscle cramps he’d been feeling in his abdomen all day, previously attributed to the stress of worrying about running out of gas. Halfway through the meal, both she and the old woman had disappeared back into a kitchen area, so he eventually left the money for the meal and got back to his lonely journey toward Mirror Lake. He’d had a similar feeling that there was something weird on the old woman’s forehead, too, right when she first appeared behind the counter to take his order, but had dismissed it at the time as a stray curl, trick of the light, or effect of low blood sugar.

With this newly alarming thought suddenly at the forefront of his mind as the tingling on the back of his neck subsides, he misses the short, black-haired woman’s words, apparently an apology of some kind. She has a vaguely Asian appearance, Arthur realizes, as she finishes her apologies, and has a strange, almost classic beauty about her. Aside from some functional silver cuff-links, she wears no jewelry, nor even a necktie for her white, collared shirt, top button unbuttoned, he notes, but he does notice the very edge of what appears to be a pattern of tattooed sea-foam green scales just about where a wristwatch would be on her right arm, assuming that she shoots left-handed. She smiles slightly after she stops talking, a slight twinkle in her left, green eye.

“Have you, by any chance, seen the proprietor?” she asks slowly, her voice betraying a clearly foreign accent, though carefully disguised by some exacting pronunciation. “I’ve been here for some time now and not seen anyone.”

[Heim]

Post #0008: The Trip (Arthur)
"No... I haven't, I've just arrived here myself."

Absorbed in a reverie of abounding details Arthur subconsciously scratches his stubbly chin, inadvertently bringing to his attention the strong contrast between himself and the woman.

The more he thinks, the stranger it seems. This person and the ramen restaurant from earlier both appear to be wildly out of place in this desolate back country. While that in itself is not a problem, there are many aspects of the situation abounding with subtle red flags, adding to his unease. How does a place like that stay in business out here? Why was it the only staffed location he'd found in several days? Is this woman a relative of the owners?

A wary part of him firmly suggests avoiding such thoughts, to focus on interacting amicably and politely... Yet what was once a small sapling of curiosity finds itself flowering with the water provided by this proverbial downpour. Cursing his better judgement, Arthur speaks up.

"Um, actually, and I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but are you related to the women who run the ramen shop a few hours from here?"

He nearly adds an explanation for his inquiry, but thinks better of it just before opening his mouth.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0009: The Trip (Arthur)
“No,” the woman says curtly, with an arched left eyebrow. She looks briefly past Arthur, eyes drawn toward the front counter, before focusing on him again. “I am in the region on business,” she adds after a thoughtful pause.

[Heim]

Post #0010: The Trip (Arthur)
Her unhappy response leaves Arthur feeling as though he's touched a nerve, causing him to falter. Still, the new information is quite interesting, throwing a wrench into his conception of things and increasing the apparent in-feasibility of the days encounters.

"I see... sorry about my question. Well, if you don't mind, what sort of business?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0011: The Trip (Arthur)
“I’m afraid that I am not at liberty to say,” she replies, with an apologetic shake of her head back and forth. She gestures to the front of the store with the hand holding the beer. “Perhaps there is a way to summon someone to help us complete our business here.”

[Heim]

Post #0012: The Trip (Arthur)
"Yes, most likely. I'll go check."

Arthur changes course to his path pre-encounter, striding once again to aisles end.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0013: The Trip (Arthur)
At the counter, Arthur spots a shiny brass bell beside the cash register. It’s suspended from a simple bamboo frame, affixed to a mechanism for ringing it by pulling on a short length of chain. He reaches out and rings it; a clear, solid clang issues forth.

A few moments later, he spots some movement with his peripheral vision, something out in the parking lot, not far from his coupe. Turning to look, he is met by the sight of a woman wearing a tight white t-shirt and form-hugging, faded gray denim jeans. Splashed strategically across the chest of the t-shirt, and impressively stretched, is a graphic that reads “I’m a DEVIL..and you like it,” with the “devil” bit written in large, bold-faced, red letters. The effect is extremely not-subtle; this woman of average height is quite busty, and apparently not afraid of drawing additional attention.

Beyond that fact, the woman is quite stunningly beautiful in general. Shoulder-length, rich, wavy tresses of midnight blue, full lips and wide, shapely hips are all on display. Arthur senses a real maneater vibe from her as she opens the door, now only a handful of feet from him as the silver entry-bell rings, only slightly breaking the metaphorical spell that she has cast on those around her.

She passes unnecessarily close to him as she walks around, heading behind the front counter. “What can I do for all y’all this evening?” she asks, her voice a smokey drawl, just enough accent to add to her personality without trapping her in some pre-fabricated stereotype. She punches a few keys on the register and looks Arthur directly in the eyes. Her long-lashed, painted eyelids blink in a somehow suggestive fashion, without being so indiscreet as to suggest what, but the effect is unmistakable.

[Heim]

Post #0014: The Trip (Arthur)
The appearance of yet another notable person causes Arthur to reflect on just how exceptional the day, more specifically the last two minutes, has been. After the previous days of isolation, being confronted with such strange circumstances serves to accentuate his exhaustion. Though, this woman seems less bizarre to him than the gun toting short stack, and he finds himself noting that they make for an interesting comparison.

As he opens his bag and slides its yet to be purchased contents onto the counter he recalls his earlier desire to ask the shop keep a question.

"Just these please. Ah, and if you don't mind me asking, what's happened to the region here? Nearly all of the businesses a few days down the road seem to be shuttered."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0015: The Trip (Arthur)
The woman at the register takes her time answering and instead focuses on quickly ringing up the total charge for Arthur’s purchases. As she nears the end, she slows and smiles, pursing her big lips slightly as her ice-blue eyes lock onto Arthur’s.

“Normally, I’d make some joke about this being a ‘road to nowhere,’ and you’re ‘driving too fast.’ Or something like that.” She smiles, and her lips part slightly for a moment, revealing unnervingly long canines. “But tonight is a special night.”

Arthur hears a rapid shuffle of shoes across the tiled floor behind him. The short woman is suddenly at his side, and then suddenly in front of him, back toward him. She quickly raises a foot toward the front-facing side of the front counter and pushes off of it, away from the counter, forcing him backward with impressive strength for someone so small. Arthur, startled, manages to keep his feet as he steps backward, as the sound of ringing steel pierces the air of the convenience store; the short woman suddenly has an eighteen-inch, Japanese-style short sword in her hand, held underhanded.

“And in what way is tonight special?” she asks in a clear, stern voice as she holds the blade out in front of her, edge-forward, arm angled upward due to the difference in height.

The busty woman lets out a peal of laughter, leaning forward slightly and clutching her midriff as she slaps the countertop. She gasps once, twice, then abruptly stops laughing. “I’m sure I have not the slightest idea what you mean.”

“I do not suffer fools lightly,” the short woman spits back. “You showed your true colors already; efforts to conceal the truth are now unbecoming.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air for a long moment as the two women, eyes locked, engage in some unseen battle of wills.

[Heim]

Post #0016: The Trip (Arthur)
Buried underneath the surface tension of the moment Arthur perceives a feeling much like uncovering an important piece of a puzzle. Unfortunately, present circumstances delay the putting of those pieces together.

He begins to back away slowly, his eyes quickly darting in a given direction before returning to the standoff at the counter. His first instinct is to run, considering that his car is most likely full by now, but his bag remains near on the counter. Given the trend thus far, abandoning his food and supplies seems like the wrong choice. But more important is the growing realization of what this situation implies. Though not fully processed, Arthur feels strongly that the night outside the gas station holds great risks of its own, that venturing into it would be equally dangerous as staying still.

Feeling paralyzed, the muscles in his legs instinctively activate as he imagines himself drawing his gun.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0017: The Trip (Arthur)
“The veil will fall,” the woman behind the counter says with a hiss, “the time of unmaking is upon us: the Clansdoom.”

Several things happen all at once. The woman behind the counter reaches down to grab something out of sight. The short woman leaps forward and bounces off the front of the countertop, rotating to face Arthur as she flies toward him. She lands practically on top of him, just as he hears a BA-BOOM from behind the counter. Arthur, now entangled with the short woman, feels a powerful impact push her into him, and he staggers backward from the force of it.

Reaction test, target 8, result 10.

Surprised by his own reaction, Arthur manages to keep his feet, owing in part to the small woman’s lack of bulk. He braces himself against the end of one of the shelving units; as the short woman tumbles to the floor, he can see smoke rising from her back. Behind the counter, the busty woman stands, right arm outstretched, holding a smoking, double-barreled shotgun, a cherry-red glow fading from the metal barrels.

“Run,” the woman on the ground manages to croak out as she struggles to rise.

[Heim]

Post #0018: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur barely hears or registers the woman's words. A combination of adrenaline and noise from the gunshot cause his ears to ring vigorously, though this too goes mostly unnoticed.

Hardly half a second passes between her words and the next move. Recreating the image he'd envisioned just a moment prior, Arthur deftly reaches both hands down his front and reveals the pistol held in his waistband. In one motion he raises the gun, turns off the safety and fires, with his target perfectly situated between the guns iron sights.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0019: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur fires with surprise, giving him a bonus success, allowing a test against someone with a superior Reaction rating. Opposed Reaction roll, Arthur 4, Shotgunner 2. Hit location randomized, roll is center mass.

Arthur’s shot hits the woman behind the counter square in the chest, with the force of the shot knocking her back a step. She looks down at the wound as she slumps against the wall behind her, a wet, red stain spreading rapidly down the front of her t-shirt and jeans.

“Idiot,” Arthur hears come from the woman at his feet as she pulls herself up to her hands and knees.

Distracted by both unexpected success and the seemingly incongruous statement, Arthur blinks a few times, his ears ringing anew, this time from the sound of his own gun. His eye is drawn back toward his target by motion. She lurches forward, head dipping out of sight for a moment, obstructed by the register and a countertop display for fruit-flavored gum.

Perception test, target 7, result 10.

“Bastard,” she hisses. She raises her eyes to meet Arthur’s, her skin now turned a deep crimson color, her face horribly twisted with pain and rage. Most notably, though, a pair of ribbed, bone-white ram horns now protrude from either side of her skull, spiraling backward before turning to point their tips forward.

At the same moment, Arthur’s eyes are drawn downward toward the other woman as she staggers to her feet. He gets a good look (if upside-down) at a large, exquisitely-rendered, metallic green tattoo of a dragon’s face peering through the dinner plate-sized hole the shotgun blasts blew through the woman’s coat and armored vest. The dragon looks angry, but Arthur could swear it also looks injured, with two streaks of blood cascading down its chin and onto its coiled neck.

“Run,” the short woman says, as she stands up to face him, pistol in one hand, blade in the other. Arthur isn’t sure, but he gets the odd impression that she’s enjoying herself.

Looking back at the woman behind the counter, Arthur notices she’s not behind the counter anymore.

[Heim]

Post #0020: The Trip (Arthur)
This time, every fiber of Arthur's being registers her words. He turns on his heels and shoots forward with all his strength, running towards the wall and intending to dive behind the last row of shelves.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0021: The Trip (Arthur)
“Pulse!” the short woman shouts, having made her way cautiously to the entrance to the store. With a spray of automatic gunfire, she shoots out the lock and glass panes of the door. “Smoke on me!”

A distant PUK PUK sound rings out, quickly followed by a hollow-metal clang and the sound of something skipping across the tile floor of the convenience store.

“Got a civvy for exfil,” she continues as smoke spreads throughout the store. “Time to earn your pay!”

[Heim]

Post #0022: The Trip (Arthur)
His ears still ringing, Arthur reaches the last shelf and very nearly takes cover, but hesitates as smoke obscures the store interior. He backs away from it, eyes darting about, gun at the ready as he attempts to discern movement from within the growing cloud.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0023: The Trip (Arthur)
About thirty seconds after Arthur stops moving, he sees the outline of a tall, black figure through the thick, gray smoke that has blocked just about everything from sight.

“Hey, come on, let’s get out of here!” says a man’s voice from within the smoke. “Best be gone before my mistress figures out where the troublemaker went, haha.” A large, pale-skinned hand with sharpened nails reaches toward Arthur, only visible just a few inches away from his shoulder. “No joke, actually,” he says, voice suddenly more serious. “She’ll be in a bad mood if we don’t catch whoever it was.”

[Heim]

Post #0024: The Trip (Arthur)
"Mistress?"

Arthur utters the word without realizing it. He stares at the outstretched hand for a moment, rattled and on edge, not sure what to do. With things having died down a bit, he finds his system two thinking has returned.

I shot the owner, she wouldn't want to help me.

Thinking something along these lines, he grasps the bizarrely colored appendage.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0025: The Trip (Arthur)
“Please don’t tell her I called her that,” the voice says with another nasal laugh, and the pale hand moves from Arthur’s own hand up to his shoulder, while a second hand grabs Arthur’s other shoulder. The man, quite tall indeed, now stands behind him, and Arthur can tell he’s wearing some strange clothes, seemingly a mix of baggy shorts and some kind of asymmetrical robe. “We’re gonna take this quick, so let me guide you. And don’t mind the snakes; I know, they’re everywhere.”

Indeed, the events of the next few moments are obscured by sudden and unexpected contact with snakes. The first of which, copper-colored, as thick as a three-foot long bratwurst, slides effortlessly down the man’s right arm and coils around Arthur’s hand. Arthur gets a vague impression that he’s not supposed to fire his gun right now, along with an even stranger impression that it’s the snake that is telling him this. A second snake is somewhere up behind his neck, draping off the tall man’s shoulder, but, unnervingly, Arthur can’t get a good look at it.

“My name’s Pulse, by the way,” the man says, his steady grip and urgent pace having now led Arthur out of the smoke-filled store and into the slightly-less smoke-filled nighttime air. The two stop their march beside Arthur’s coupe and the man and the copper snake release him. “Hey, nice ride!” he says, running both hands along the edge of the front end of the car. Arthur can now tell that Pulse’s fairly high-pitched voice generally has a nasal resonance, and that it wasn’t just him cracking jokes in a different vocal tone.

Finally out of the smoke entirely, Arthur gets his first good look at Pulse. Somewhere just above six-and-a-half feet in height, there’s a lot of him at which to look. His skin is as white as snow, and half of his chest is revealed by a black linen, off-the-shoulder robe that reveals a slender build, even exposing the lines of several ribs alongside an etched, lithe musculature . His chest is hairless and the part that is visible is largely covered by an elaborate tattoo of an ivory-colored serpent in a figure-eight pose, mouth clutching its own tail. A belt made of a thick, white cloth rope is tied around his waist, with several sheathed, bladed weapons tucked snuggly behind it. His legs are covered to a few inches below the knees by baggy, black linen shorts, while his feet are shod in dark brown, leather sandals affixed with leather thongs that wind up the calves in a helical pattern. The copperhead is coiled about his left ankle, while Arthur spots a black-scaled tail disappearing into Pulse’s robe.

Over his right shoulder hangs a strap connected to a large, black-and-emerald green launcher device with a drum-style magazine that hangs at his waist. Over his left shoulder is a short ammo bandolier holding metal canisters, each a little smaller than an aluminum beverage can.

While all of that is a lot to take in, Arthur finds himself mainly drawn to Pulse’s bald head. A wide, white gauze bandage, edges tinged light red, is wrapped in thick layers around the top half of the man’s face, totally obscuring his eyes. The bandage comes to an end just below the point where a curved, six-inch, bone-white horn emerges from the left side of his brow and rises toward the roof above the fuel pumps. A pattern of dimly-glowing cracks cover the otherwise smooth surface of the horn.

“So, the boss lady, wherever she is, goes by Aura,” Pulse says as he leans back against the hood of the coupe and crosses his arms. A black pit viper slithers out of his robe, draping itself across his shoulders, its tongue flicking out to taste the air. “Hopefully, we’ll see her alive again, but I’ll consider entertaining a wager that her lucky streak is all played-out, if that’s your game.”

[Heim]

Post #0026: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur, standing stock still, looks Pulse up and down one more time, attempting to fully and completely process the person in front of him. Once finished, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before slumping against the coupes passenger door and exhaling as he slowly assumes a position looking vaguely like a wall sit.

Stops on the road greatly decreased in number, but showed signs of having once been in operation. The owner...

He casts his mind back to just before the violence started.

She said something about tonight being special. She grew horns and crimson skin, her teeth were strange as well. She said...

“The veil will fall, the time of unmaking is upon us: the Clansdoom.”

Arthur opens his eyes.

"Okay, I have some questions. First, what is "Clansdoom"?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0027: The Trip (Arthur)
“Wait,” Pulse says, the levity suddenly gone from his voice. “Did the troublemaker mention that?!” He reaches his clawed right-hand up the his bald pate and strokes his scalp from front to back. “S#$%.”

As if on cue, Aura appears from the store entrance, walking slowly toward the two men beside the car, but otherwise looking none the worse for wear. As she nears, she removes her suit coat and examines it, passively considering the shredded fabric and gaping hole.

“Seems like you used up all your luck there, eh?” Pulse asks, a large smile replacing his briefly-serious expression.

“Silence. That is not clean yet; I am going to have to meditate later. Actually, I might have to do it right now.” She takes out her pistol and quickly swaps to a full magazine, checking to make sure the chamber is clear and the slide works smoothly before holstering it. Arthur can see that she has an angled sheath for her blade across her lower back, allowing her to carry and draw it easily.

“Is dragon-boy bleeding?” Pulse asks.

“Yeah, it would seem to be that way,” she replies as she heads over to the motorcycle. She manually wheels the bike over to the side of the coupe without starting it up. “I will go inside to meditate. There is a small room behind the counter. No sign of our friend, unfortunately.”

“Want me to call Wing?”

“That will not be necessary,” Aura replies curtly. “The trail will have gone cold long before she arrives. They have an important task to complete, as well. You know that.”

“Don’t you usually say something like ‘a lead is a lead?’”

Aura gives pulse an ice-cold stare, and a moment of harsh silence hangs in the air.

Pulse turns toward Arthur as Aura opens the cargo box, removing a new collared-shirt, still wrapped in cellophane.

“Do you really not know what the Clansdoom is?” he asks.

[Heim]

Post #0028: The Trip (Arthur)
Is there any indication that I would know?

Arthur gets a particular impression from Pulses question, feeling not just in the dark, but also out of place. Deciding answering questions with questions would only lead to more confusion, he decides to make a statement.

"I didn't know about any of this. I didn't know about... crimson skinned people, or living tattoo's."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0029: The Trip (Arthur)
“What’s so odd about colored skin?” Pulse asks, clearly confused.

“Pulse!” Aura says, her voice once again full of tension. The tall man leaps to attention, jumping backwards away from Arthur, landing a few feet in beyond the front edge of the coupe.

“At first, I thought you might be without-clan, and so have a reason to hide, a reason to shoot a fellow lost-one,” Aura says. “I can respect that. Truly.” She raises her pistol slowly, pointing it at Arthur, as she backs away from him. “But I don’t believe any person without-clan would not know of the cult.”

[Heim]

Post #0030: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur looks away from Aura to Pulse, then back to Aura, his eyes on her outstretched gun. He can clearly hear his heartbeat.

"Okay, please calm down, please, there seems to be a big misunderstanding! I don't plan to shoot, I mean it! Here!"

Arthur very slowly reaches to his waist and grabs his pistol, careful to avoid pointing the barrel at the duo or putting any fingers on the trigger. He engages the safety, places it on the ground, and walks out into the open, away from his ride.

"I am not from around here. I've been driving along this route for several days and seen that most of the places nearby are abandoned. From what I can gather, there are... monsters like that woman, you said there was a cult right?"

He looks from Pulse to Aura as he speaks, his gaze increasingly pleading, begging them to understand.

"I'm a normal human being! I've never seen horned people like her or you, Pulse. I've never imagined people with living tattoos on their body, I've never heard of Clansdoom! Before I pulled into the parking lot here ten minutes ago I never would have dreamed something like this could have happened!"

Arthur finishes, panting profusely.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0031: The Trip (Arthur)
“Go ahead, shoot him,” Pulse says matter-of-factly. “There’s no reason for someone to still be concealing their skin color or their allegiance at this point.”

Aura adjusts her grip, gun still pointed straight at Arthur. She shuffles her feet restlessly as she moves to maintain line of fire to him.

“And who would claim to be a human?” Pulse says with a chuckle. “He’s crazy and/or stupid if he thinks that’s gonna work.”

“I am still hiding my color, Pulse,” Aura says, not taking her eyes off Arthur.

“What?! Why?”

“I do not know why. Gut instinct, maybe.”

[Heim]

Post #0032: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur slaps his cheeks and closes his eyes as he attempts to get his breathing under control. His ability to comprehend what was just said is impaired as he frantically racks his brain for some way to prove his innocence, whatever that would entail.

That's it!

"That ramen stand! It makes no sense for it to be out here when everything else is shut down and miles apart! You-(he points to Aura) have the same markings on your forehead as them so you must be... Related somehow."

Within the space of that pause, Arthur finally comprehends Auras last remarks. Though his ears are still ringing, the adrenaline has begun to wear off.

"Have I... Okay, so there was something in that ramen but that's not... So you're all related, and this is a battleground for creatures like you two and that woman, but what about the people who-"

Arthur, assuming many things in reaching this conclusion, realizes what the absence of life along the route to Mirror Lake coupled with the presence of non-human creatures might imply.

"You said you're in the region for business, right? Are you heading to Mirror Lake?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0033: The Trip (Arthur)
“I think he may actually be human,” Aura says, annoyingly paying almost no attention to Arthur at this point. “It is the only thing that makes sense.” She lowers her gun.

“Humans aren’t real, Aura. That’s another dumb superstition, just like the Clansdoom.”

Aura’s skin suddenly turns a shade of cobalt blue and two small horns, little more than skin-covered, cone-shaped nodules an inch or so in length, appear at the top of her forehead. She walks over to where Arthur dropped his pistol.

“No oni…no adult oni…would use a weapon like this,” she says as she picks it up. “He shot the woman in there once. Just once.” She walks over to Arthur. “A single shot would barely kill a baby, let alone an adult. But the legends all say that humans are weak.”

[Heim]

Post #0034: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur is briefly startled by her approach, but manages to hold his ground and continue to think.

Oni...

Yet another new term he's unfamiliar with, but more important is what the two just said. Taking advantage of Auras closer proximity, he finds her gaze and puts effort into making himself heard.

"Okay, so you two are 'Oni' and you've never seen a human before? That's hard to believe, but is there anything I can do to prove I'm human, and if I prove it... What exactly will you do with me?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0035: The Trip (Arthur)
“If you really are a human,” Pulse says, moving to stand beside Aura, “then that has some worrying implications regarding our mission.”

“When was the last time you saw another human?” Aura asks, eyebrow raised.

[Heim]

Post #0036: The Trip (Arthur)
Though their lack of answer on his last question concerns him, Arthur decides to plow ahead, thankful that they're on a somewhat productive track.

"I'm assuming that those people at the ramen stand earlier today were oni as well. If that's true, then about three or four days ago."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0037: The Trip (Arthur)
“Have Imara-Mara check him,” Aura says to Pulse.

“Prudent,” Pulse says, as he raises his right hand and makes an elaborate gesture.

A massive, ivory-white serpent appears before them, her body looped in huge coils that fill up a space larger than Arthur’s coupe. The head of the snake, bigger than a lawnmower, hovers about five feet from Arthur, tongue flicking in and out. Pulse makes a gesture toward Arthur.

“Please try to stand still,” Aura says to Arthur.

The snake moves a foot or two closer, but seems to keep her distance, her head bobbing up and down.

“This is a human. A human that smells of other humans.” The words ring painfully inside Arthur’s skull despite not being spoken aloud.

“Huh,” Pulse says. “Color me wrong.”

“That is not all that is wrong this night,” the creature continues. “The weave of the world is snarled.” She turns to face Aura. “Speak to your patron soon.”

[Heim]

Post #0038: The Trip (Arthur)
Glad that's out of the way, so-

"What now? Do you want anything from me? Would you be willing to answer any of the questions I asked?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0039: The Trip (Arthur)
The giant snake looks meaningfully at Pulse before slithering off down the road, in the direction from which Arthur had come.

“If Imara-Mara, of all creatures, says I need to, then I definitely need to go meditate,” Aura says. She quickly removes her suspenders, shirt and protective vest, leaving herself naked from the waist up. “I will go do that now. Pulse can field your questions, but we are here on a mission and cannot discuss sensitive issues.” She gives Pulse a stern look. “It will take at least four hours.”

“I’ll have Hebi keep watch.”

“Good idea.” Aura walks off toward the convenience store, her dragon tattoo shimmering green under the white lights of the gas station.

Pulse turns to look at Arthur.

“You’ll have to remind me of what it was that you wanted to know. Keep in mind that we should get some sleep soon.”

[Heim]

Post #0040: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur thinks to himself meaningfully. Frankly, he's become very tired as well and, despite his many questions, would prefer to get to sleep.

"I have a lot that I want to know, but I don't want this to be overlong, so I'll go with the most important ones: Are you two heading to Mirror Lake? If you are, what are you doing there, and has anything happened in the area?"

He walks over to the car, laying against the hood in a manner similar to Pulse, though less relaxed.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0041: The Trip (Arthur)
“I guess it’s not a big deal if I tell you we are going there,” Pulse says, scratching his head. “Unfortunately, that’s about all I can say about that matter.” Reaching into the end of his sleeved arm, Pulse withdraws what appears to be a dead mouse, which he drops on the pavement at his feet. He draws a jagged-bladed dagger from its sheath and makes a quick cut across his left palm, and he moves his hand in a circular pattern above the dead rodent, blood dripping onto the gasoline-stained pavement.

A long moment later, the black pit viper emerges from his robe and slithers down his leg and quickly gulps down the rodent.

“Sorry I can’t be more helpful. It’s important to our mission that we be careful disclosing information to anyone not in our group.”

[Heim]

Post #0042: The Trip (Arthur)
The snakes need to eat as well.

Arthur makes sure to file away each detail into his memory. He contemplates pushing Pulse for more information, but given how secretive he and Aura are being he decides to return to a more practical question.

"I see. So, what are you going to do about me then?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0043: The Trip (Arthur)
“You are free to go or come as you please,” Pulse says as he delicately scratches his chin with his clawed hand. “That said, the world Aura and I are familiar with is one where humans like yourself are so rare as to be thought extinct or mythical, whereas oni like ourselves are commonplace. Judging by your reactions, this is not the world with which you are familiar. So I’m not sure what course of action might be wise for you to undertake.”

[Heim]

Post #0044: The Trip (Arthur)
"Right, let's talk about that. I think all three of us are missing a lot of what we need to know about this part, but I might as well lay out what I know. I'm human and, like... Imara-Mara said, I've lived my whole life surrounded by humans."

Arthur points into the darkness, indicating the direction he drove in from, before remembering that Pulse is blindfolded.

"From where I came from not even a week ago, there are tens of thousands of humans. Not to mention that all across the planet there are billions of us, which is why I struggle to believe you've never seen a human. I'm... fairly sure you aren't playing a trick on me, so I have to wonder where exactly you came from, and what sort of lives you've been living. Okay, given all of that, what are your thoughts?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0045: The Trip (Arthur)
“Well, the world Aura and I are familiar with sounds a lot like yours, but with oni instead of humans. Due to the degree of difference, I’m forced to assume we come from different worlds.” Pulse stands up tall, stretches his arms above his head and lets out a mighty yawn. “I don’t know about you, but I’m probably going to sleep on the roof of the convenience store, ideally after I’ve stolen some of the food from inside it.”

[Heim]

Post #0046: The Trip (Arthur)
Different worlds? Then how-wait.

The mention of the convenience store reminds Arthur that he'd left his bag, and all the important possessions within, inside on its counter.

"Alright... I should eat as well. Actually, this is a good opportunity. Would you mind eating together? I still have a couple important questions, especially considering what you just said."

Anxious about his bag, Arthur tries to recall if it was damaged during the confrontation inside, causing him to remember something else.

"Also, we won't bother Aura by heading inside, will we?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0047: The Trip (Arthur)
“I don’t mind eating together, but you make a good point about Aura. Let’s sneak inside real quick and get out, then go up over the pumps so she doesn’t hear us stomping around on the roof.”

Arthur’s things in the store are right where he left them on the counter beside the register. Pulse grabs a few bags of snacks, a six-pack of beer and a box of beef jerky from a shelf near the front counter.

“Help yourself, I guess,” he says quietly as he heads back outside.

[Heim]

Post #0048: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur simply grabs the food he left on the counter before quickly tiptoeing outside and jogging back to his car, where his notebook lies. As he does this, he tries to maintain awareness of his surroundings and a readiness to draw his gun.

Not that it would do much good. I'll need to ask about the chances of me being attacked by another hostile Oni.

Grimacing at the thought, he goes to join Pulse on the roof.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0049: The Trip (Arthur)
After a little awkward clambering, Pulse and Arthur get onto the roof and make their way to the area above the fuel pumps. A cold wind whips up as they begin to eat; Arthur is reminded that the spring is still young.

“So, you wanted to chat?” Pulse says as he chews on some jerky.

[Heim]

Post #0050: The Trip (Arthur)
"Yes I would."

Arthur opens his notebook and flips to an empty section, pulling out a pencil and marking various parts of the page.

"Like I said, I've got a ton of questions. Most of them are about oni so..." He scratches his stubble, inadvertently reminding himself of when he first encountered Aura.

"How about we focus on that? Aura mentioned some legends about humans earlier. I believe we have legends about oni as well, though I don't have any knowledge of them, so I'd like to know what you've heard about us. You also mentioned different worlds earlier. I understand the concept, but have never encountered anything like it. Basically, if you have any idea how our worlds might have crossed and what that means then I would appreciate being filled in."

Arthur thinks for a moment, unsure of whether he'd missed something.

"Oh, and lastly, what is Clansdoom?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0051: The Trip (Arthur)
A couple hours later, Arthur sits in his car, the front seat illuminated by the beam of his flashlight. He looks at the handful of pages of notes that he jotted down, covering the events of the night and his discussion with Pulse. Putting his skills to work, Arthur has already condensed the notes into several bullet points on the main aspects of some things that he knows and some things at which he can guess with some degree of certainty.

Topic 1: Oni
While there seem to be hints that some aspects of their life cycle differ from humans (confusing mention of babies and parents), Arthur feels confident that many aspects of the life of the average oni aren’t that different from humans. Oni have jobs, participate in an economy, and have a level of technology that is similar to the human world with which Arthur is familiar. Physically, oni seem to vary considerably; Pulse indicates that some big oni make him look fairly scrawny, although his height is about average. All oni seem to have horns and tend to have brightly-colored skin compared to humans. Furthermore, some oni have unusual eye configurations; Pulse relates that he has just one, large eye underneath the bandages. Oni like this are viewed as auspicious, although the extra attention isn’t always beneficial, since sometimes their eyes have unusual abilities.

The most noteworthy part for Arthur though has to do with something that Pulse nearly glossed over: all oni are capable of hiding their horns, eyes and actual skin color, essentially disguising themselves as humans. This ability appears to be instinctive, but in their society, it has taken on additional meaning, vis a vis what ends up being a major discussion topic. See section on “Clans,” below. According to Pulse, sometimes oni have trouble controlling their form. This can be due to passionate or enraged emotional states, but also from pain or injury. Their physical features sometimes change outside of the ability to disguise themselves, which Pulse demonstrates by extending the length of his fangs and claws, an increase of around fifty-percent, Arthur judges.

Topic 2: Clans
Clans are the major organizational feature of oni society. At their most-basic level, they are extended families, which are sometimes quite big due to shared bloodlines. Alliances and intermarriage further augment this number, and the resulting groupings seem to resemble something like nation-states, from the sound of it. There are three categories of clans: major, minor, and lesser. Major clans span entire regions of the globe and have enormous political and social influence and power. They command the allegiance of many minor clans, which all pledge loyalty to the overarching major clan in order to secure protection and resources. Lesser clans are sometimes still quite large, but they have not undergone the consolidation that the major clans underwent some time ago, and they have no clans pledged to serve them.

Although the clans dominate the structure of oni society and culture, not all oni are born into a clan. Those that are not are called “sundered,” though Pulse indicates that he doesn’t have a high opinion of that term. Oni with no clan typically want to join one, and there is considerable competition to ingratiate oneself with one of the major or lesser clans. Thus, Arthur is able to deduce that there are several general categories of oni when it comes to clans: clan by blood, clan by bond, clan by rite.

Clan by blood is fairly straightforward, as it indicates a particular oni was born into a major, or lesser clan, or is otherwise a blood-relative of said clan.

Clan by bond indicates that one was born into a minor clan that has pledged its allegiance to a major clan. Although the bond is not one of blood, oni treat this as a relationship akin to marriage, a special bond that is widely regarded as every bit as valid as a shared bloodline.

Clan by rite indicates that an individual oni has been adopted by a clan, be it major, minor, or lesser. This is highly sought-after and, while it confers many benefits, it’s a type of relationship that is sometimes viewed as less legitimate than that of oni that are clan by blood or by bond.

Arthur also makes note that it seems the oni commonly conceal elements of their appearance that may mark their heritage or bloodline with their ability to alter their physical features. An aspect of this then becomes information warfare, in which actual clan allegiance can not always be determined visually, although many clans employ tattoos to identify membership. Crucially, while oni can change most of their features to some degree, they cannot conceal tattoos with that ability. Thus, many oni display their tattoos openly as a way to declare something about themselves.

Finally, according to Pulse, some oni, like himself, leave clans for various reasons. While this is rare, it’s not unheard of, but it comes with some considerable social stigma. Pulse seems to have an oddly flippant attitude toward the matter, but Arthur senses there’s still some tension there beneath the surface.

Topic Three: Supernatural Phenomena
Arthur’s observations seem to suggest that Pulse is involved in several areas of the supernatural, with that maybe being his role in the team of which he is part. Despite this, Pulse doesn’t go into many details, but hits some broad themes that would be thought of as supernatural in the human world. Arthur hears that things like tattoo magic, place magic, spirits, place gods, dragons, and monsters of various kinds all have a place in the oni world. It seems like many of these are rarer nowadays than they used to be, though this is mainly inference Arthur draws from differences in the way Pulse talks about technology versus things like magic and monsters.

Pulse has knowledge of legendary underworlds and overworlds that are mainstays of older oni belief systems, but Arthur isn’t confident that he understands what modern oni views on these beliefs are.

Arthur also deduces that oni and humans must have, at some point, inhabited a shared world or space, or otherwise there’s no reason for oni to disguise themselves in a way that makes them look human. It’s possible that Aura and the owner of the gas station only did this reflexively, so Arthur will have to inquire further.

Topic Four: The Clansdoom
Apparently a rumor or prophecy among some of the oni without clans, an event which precipitates the beginning of the end of clan influence and power. Long a scary story of sorts, in more recent history, a number of cults and terrorist groups have used mention of the Clansdoom as a kind of rallying cry or common mythos. Pulse remarks that he’s not sure how much credit can be given to these reports because sometimes clans use ideas like this to help in their efforts to consolidate their power or manipulate opinions among their membership. Notably, Pulse is clanless but seems to believe the Clansdoom to be superstitious nonsense.

[Heim]

Post #0052: The Trip (Arthur)
Though still missing answers on a few important points Arthur feels mostly comfortable with his grasp on the situation, especially when compared to the initial confusion. He can also feel his eyelids drooping, reminding him of long nights spent in front of textbooks and computers.

That's a sign I should get to sleep.

He goes about the overdue task of organizing the vehicles interior, picking things off the floor and moving them into the glove compartment or rucksack. He stumbles upon the spare pistol magazine he'd brought with him and, though realizing it's not likely to make a difference, decides to replace the single bullet he'd fired earlier.

Cloistered into his sleeping bag, he nearly shuts off the flashlight before withdrawing the letter. As he finishes reading the long memorized words, a narrow slice of starry sky visible through the immediate window calls to him.

All this, and I haven't even arrived at the first stop of my search.

Thinking this, Arthur feels strongly that he understands now what people mean when they talk about fate. In that moment of reflection, exhaustion smothers him to sleep.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0053: The Trip (Arthur)
Light. Really bright light.

Just super bright.

Arthur imagines it must be keeping him awake. It’s been shining right in his eyes as he lies in his hospital bed. It’s been…wait, how long has it been?

This isn’t right.

“Is the patient awake?” a nearby male voice asks.

“His eyes are open, doctor, but he’s unresponsive.”

“Unusual. Still, it’s been a strange case, so I suppose it’s at least following a pattern. Did anyone see him…do it?”

“‘It?’”

“Yes, you know…when he….”

The lights…so bright…

Arthur is disoriented for a long moment after he wakes up, his sleeping bag coiled tight around him as he lies in a contorted position in the front seat of his car. Bright daylight is filtering in the opening of the bag. He can vaguely hear a thumping sound from nearby. He manages to extricate himself after some awkward twisting around, and emerges from the sleeping bag to see a coiled pit viper on the hood of his coupe, part of its black-scaled length thumping against the glass of the windshield.

Arthur blinks away some sleep, now properly awake.

[Heim]

Post #0054: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur stares at the viper for several seconds, trying to decide whether its presence indicates that he's woken up on the right or wrong side of the drivers seat.

Certainly makes for an interesting alarm clock.

As he considers the snake in a contemplative manner memories of the prior night slowly drift to the surface of his mind. It's the memory of Imara-Mara, the intimidating serpent whose words rang within his skull, that revitalizes his attention.

He hurriedly opens the glove compartment, grabs a bottle of water, tosses his bedding into the back and scrambles out of the car. He then opens the bottle, takes a swig, pours and rubs some water on his face and reaches down to touch his toes, stretching his arms above his head as he straightens back up.

With his morning ritual hastily completed, he turns to the viper.

"Okay, where's Pulse?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0055: The Trip (Arthur)
The viper rearranges its coils and points toward the convenience store with the tip of its tail. It somehow manages to convey a sense of urgency to Arthur, but it’s more of a vague impression than the explicit mental communication he’d received from Imara-Mara.

As he heads over to the convenience store, a strong gust of wind hits him.

Intellect test, target 6, result 6.

The wind is cold, even colder than the brisk air of the previous night, and the direction has changed. Arthur casts his eyes toward the sky; while the light of the sun is shining, it’s mostly shining on masses of steel-gray stratus clouds that blanket the sky. His knowledge tells him that the weather is going to change, with a strong likelihood of a storm blowing through the area. The horizon is actually quite close due to the surrounding mountains, and Arthur realizes that he won’t have much warning should the weather take a turn for the worse.

He reaches out to open the damaged front door of the store, and the bell above the door rings to herald his entry into the squat building. As his eyes adjust to the relatively dim incandescent light, Arthur sees that Pulse and Aura are having a quiet discussion.

“...not sure that’s a good call,” Pulse says, his back toward Arthur, with Aura hidden somewhere beyond him, at the far end of the counter, near the door to the adjoining room. Pulse is wearing only his shorts and rope belt; on his back is a huge, but old, scar, stretching from just behind his right shoulder, across his right shoulder-blade, and then running parallel to his spine down behind the white cloth of the belt. Even clearly long-healed, it is alarmingly raised and recessed beyond the chalk-white, smooth flesh of the rest of his back.

“Your objection is noted,” Aura replies. Arthur can hear a note of fatigue in her voice compared to yesterday. “We can discuss this further later.”

“Well,” Pulse says in a louder tone as he turns to face Arthur, “we thought we’d let you sleep in a bit, and frankly, we made good use of the rest as well.” He gestures toward the counter, where lies the double-barreled shotgun, several boxes of ammo now on the counter beside it. “If you plan on shooting any oni, you may want to add that to your arsenal. Neither Aura nor I favor shotguns, so it’s yours if you want it.”

“I requisitioned the cash from the store,” Aura says as she steps to the side and becomes visible. She’s wearing only strips of white cloth wound about the blue flesh of her chest and a pair of black, microfiber panties. “While normally we are well-funded, it has been a long trip without a chance to resupply. Since we are bringing up the rear, strategic planning and replenishing supplies are among our duties.” She turns toward Arthur. “If it is not too much of an imposition, I would like to pay you to carry some supplies in your car, for as long as we travel together.”

[Heim]

Post #0056: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur walks over to the shotgun. He picks it up, inspecting its features and holding it in a position informed by vague recollections of various range goers he saw the day he'd received training for his pistol. Said training had contained some general knowledge applicable to all firearms, but he hadn't learned how to operate shotguns specifically, nor had he fired one. Given this, he found himself wishing for an opportunity to practice with it using a portion of his abundant ammo supply, but a quick glance outside at the changing winds reminds him of more important matters.

"You don't have to pay me, I'll transport whatever I can unpaid" he turns to face the pair "on the condition that you answer some more questions. I understand that you have mission secrecy to worry about, but I didn't know whether we would be traveling together, and now that I do there are some things I need to know. Firstly," he indicates the shotgun by lightly tapping the barrel "the fact that you're suggesting I upgrade my weapon implies we might be running into more conflict. That's probably expected for what you two do, but wouldn't a human, a human who hasn't ever killed anyone, be a liability in that situation? In other words, how much danger do you think we'll be in, and why is it that you're encouraging me to tag along?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0057: The Trip (Arthur)
The shotgun has a wood stock and robust steel barrels and trigger. As far as Arthur can tell, it was a quality shotgun when it was made. But it shows signs of having had a rough life since, though all of the vital mechanisms look to be intact, just well-worn and marred by age.

“I say tell him, but you already know my thoughts on this,” Pulse says.

“Indeed,” Aura replies.

Arthur senses the tension in the room rise palpably.

“I will handle disclosure. Arthur, please join me in the other room. Pulse, start loading the boxes I marked into Arthur’s vehicle.”

“Sure, sure, captain,” Pulse says. He starts to whistle as Arthur makes his way into the small back room behind the counter.

The room itself has little in it besides a beat-up sofa, a simple but sturdy safe that’s being used as a make-shift coffee table, and a broken-looking radio. The floor is covered in filthy, short-nap carpet; the whole room smells like mildew, only slightly overpowered by what looks like recently-burnt incense cones on top of the safe. A white towel has been laid on the floor, and what appear to be Aura’s clothes hang from a hanger hung from the open door of the room.

The small woman is two steps behind Arthur, and he turns just in time to glimpse her jump up and snatch the hanger cleanly off of the door, land almost soundlessly on her bare, blue feet, and move past him toward the white towel.

“The shotgun was Pulse’s idea; he thought you might appreciate some more stopping power. I myself prefer small arms; no need to explain yourself if you do not wish to take it.”

As she talks, she puts on her suit with practiced, graceful precision. And with impressive speed.

“Our mission is a search to find someone. We may not need to kill anyone, but we are prepared for that eventuality in case it is necessary. You will not be required to kill anyone, but it may be wise of you to see to your own defense, since our priority will not be to protect you.”

She ties a bright, solid-blue, silk necktie about her neck and cracks her jaw slightly as she completes the knot. A muscle spasms above her right temple, and she rolls her shoulders and head slightly, apparently in an effort to release some tension.

“I assume we are going the same way because, to the best of my knowledge, this road goes only to one place, a village charmingly known as Nowhere.”

[Heim]

Post #0058: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur freezes, mouth slightly ajar, midnight musings about fate reverberating in his mind.

"I... Yes, that's where I'm headed as well."

As the shock wears off, he entertains leaving it at that and letting Aura do the talking. However, a voice inside his head immediately objects.

They're being accommodating. Holding this to your chest could lead to issues down the road, and mentioning it now would be a sign of trust.

There's a brief, but noticeable pause.

"I'm also searching for someone. Though, I don't know if this is the right place or not."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0059: The Trip (Arthur)
Aura freezes in place and her pupils dilate strangely, a fleck of gold appearing in her otherwise-green irises. It lasts only a moment, but Arthur senses a hint of trepidation in her otherwise stern demeanor.

“That is twice now,” she says as her hands straighten an already-straight tie. “Thrice, and we take this to Pulse. These are too auspicious to be counted coincidences forever, and three of them will be more auspicious still. An ill-aspect could have bearing on our mission; Pulse would know.” She shakes her head suddenly. “But enough…there is no need to jump at what may well be shadows. Let us focus on getting on the road quickly and making our way to Nowhere.”

[Heim]

post #0060: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur is curious, and a bit shocked, to hear about a second seemingly unlikely coincidence. However, Auras choice not to elaborate, along with her words, shows that she doesn't see it as worth discussing, at least not now.

You shouldn't push things, it would be better to leave as soon as possible to try and dodge the storm.

"I'm... Sure there are things I might benefit from knowing that you two haven't shared for one reason or another. I can accept that, but I also don't want to be left in the dark without reason."

Arthur feels a pang of guilt, reluctant to proceed in manipulating his leverage.

"That's why I mentioned my objective. There was no good reason to avoid telling you, given that it could cause trouble down the line if I didn't. With that in mind, is there any reason not elaborate on this coincidence, besides the need to move ahead of the storm?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0061: The Trip (Arthur)
“The first coincidence is that we meet in a convenience store on the road to Nowhere, and I get a good read off of you. If we had happened to purchase our goods at different times, without meeting, or if I was not interested enough in you to listen to your interaction with the owner, then there’s a fair chance that one or both of us would die if she ambushed us alone.”

[Heim]

Post #0062: The Trip (Arthur)
"Oh, I see."

Arthur re-frames last night through this new lens.

"I was unaware of what I had walked into. Once things started, I was disoriented and confused. Given that, it's remarkable I survived, I think."

Considering the sheer density of firearms and misunderstanding packed into such a short period it was a miracle that he hadn't been shot, he hadn't even been injured.

"Thank you for holding fire after it was over, despite Pulses insistence."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0063: The Trip (Arthur)
“Ah, the standoff…,” the blue woman says, raising her left hand to rub her left horn. “I said some….”

She paces suddenly, as though nervous, before quickly turning to face Arthur and bowing apologetically, hands at her sides.

“In our culture…oni culture…it is a grave insult to assume that someone is not part of a clan.” She bows again. “I twice said as much out-loud. Even in a moment of panic, that brings shame upon myself and my clan.” She kneels and bows her head to the floor. “I know nothing of you or your human culture, let alone your clan status. Forgive my transgression.”

[Heim]

Post #0064: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur is shocked once again. Seeing Aura bow in this manner was not something he'd imagined a person so serious and professional ever doing.

"Oh, well... Don't worry. You didn't know I was human, or that most of us aren't in a clan, at least not in the sense that oni are."

Arthur scratches his stubble again, formulating his concluding remark.

"At any rate, I wasn't offended at all. You and Pulse have been helpful and reliable, and you have my gratitude."

He looks to the door, feeling somewhat awkward.

"Speaking of Pulse, he's probably moved everything by now, so we should go."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0065: The Trip (Arthur)
Aura rises to her feet and looks much relieved and less fidgety.

“I am glad that we are of similar mind on that point.” She kneels beside the sofa and removes her pistol and sword from beneath one of the cushions. “Among the supplies are spare fuel, coolant and oil for both vehicles. There are plenty of snacks, so feel free to help yourself as we travel.”

Arthur and Aura walk out of the store and come to the area beside the fuel pumps. Pulse stands beside Arthur’s car, leaning against the passenger-side hood just in front of the wheel.

“Weapons check,” Aura says as she removes the mag from her pistol, clears the chamber, checks the slide, then reloads and holsters it. Pulse goes through a similar process with his grenade launcher.

“Used two smokes, so three left,” Pulse says to Aura.

“Check with Ink or Brass when we regroup,” Aura replies as she turns to face Pulse. “Ink always carries spares.”

“Will do.”

“I was terse earlier and…overly critical….”

“No need to apologize," Pulse cuts her off. "Give your doctor a bit more credit; you took a big hit in there yesterday. Whether it’s you that bears the weight or not, it’s still damage. How’d the check-in last night go?”

“Took most of the night,” Aura says, a note of fatigue creeping into her voice. “He concurs with Imara-Mara; something is up. Even without his link to the world, he can sense turmoil far beyond what caused the injury, beyond even the unease caused by the cultist.” She shakes her head as if to clear it. “But enough of that for now. Do you have everything, Arthur?”

[Heim]

Post #0066: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur, holding his new shotgun, can't think of anything not already on hand or in the car, except...

"Pulse, did you put the shotgun ammunition inside my car somewhere? If you did, then yes, I do."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0067: The Trip (Arthur)
“The ammo is in the passenger seat,” Pulse says, “plus I put some goodies in one of the boxes. Brass will, one hundred-percent, teach you how to make your own shotgun shells. Just gotta live through the war stories first.” Pulse chuckles. “I’ll leave Hebi to travel with you, Arthur, while Penny will go with Aura. Don’t worry, they’ll be sleeping most of the day, judging by the feel of that wind.”

“Then let us get on the road. Pulse will bring up the rear, Arthur, so don’t worry about where he is. You just follow me. Our route is obvious; though it winds about a bit, this road only leads to Nowhere.”

Aura puts on a black helmet and gets on her motorcycle, while Arthur gets in his car. He notes several boxes of snacks in the back seat, but not so much that he has trouble moving his gear around. On the passenger-side seat are the boxes of shotgun ammo, four boxes of twelve shells, along with Hebi. The pit viper moves to the floor and then beneath the seat after Arthur sits down and he hears a satisfied-sounding hiss as he starts up the car. Aura is already waiting for him, so he sets off immediately after her.

The road courses along the floor of the valley for a long way. Field upon field upon field of tree stumps and little else. No buildings and no landmarks save for two more bridges, as the road repeatedly crosses the river. While the land holds little of interest, the sky gradually darkens. Every few minutes, Arthur can hear the sound of the blowing wind drowning out the sound of the coupe’s engine. The cloud formations gradually mount, billowy stacks of dark gray rising up and up. By the time Arthur begins to follow Aura up into the hills on the other side of the valley, a mountain range of clouds has formed to mirror the actual range of mountains that pass on his left.

Midday comes and goes; Arthur eats while driving, keeping an uneasy eye on the darkening sky. The winding road has climbed out of the hills and up onto proper mountains. Just about teatime, Aura signals to stop; the two vehicles park side-by-side at a scenic overlook.

“We are near to crossing over the ridge,” she says, pointing her blue index finger at a small, folded map of the region. “It will be ugly if we are up high when the storm breaks, so we should push until we can cross and begin to descend.”

Intellect test, target 6, result 7.

While Aura’s logic on that part makes sense, Arthur has noted that driving with the mountains to the left has provided some shelter from the worst of the wind gusts. On the other hand, if the storm comes across the ridge, then this side would be exposed to the worst of it. It may already be stormy on the far side, but, either way, conditions are bound to get worse across the region in general.

[Heim]

Post #0068: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur thinks for a long moment, trying to consider all the relevant factors.

"I think we've been shielded from much of the wind thanks to the mountains, and there's the risk that it's already stormy on the other side. Even if it isn't, we're likely to be contending with harsher winds up the ridge and, like you said, if the storm catches up to us, it would be bad. Both options feel like they carry too much risk. On the other hand, if we stay here to wait out the storm, that would probably mean staying the night. I could manage that, but it doesn't seem like you and Pulse have any shelter. I also don't know if you can afford to stay the night due to something related to your mission. Putting those caveats aside though, last night was... very difficult, and we've been moving for several hours non-stop, so I could use another evening to rest before we arrive at Nowhere."

Arthur pauses to adjust his wording. He has the impression that Aura was tired, or still partially injured, before they even set out. If that is the case, then it would be another reason to avoid more risks. However, expressing such a thing seems like a bad idea, and so he emphasizes his own, very real, fatigue.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0069: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
A distant rumble of thunder sounds and the wind intensifies, as if to underscore Arthur’s point.

“Waiting out the storm does make good sense,” Aura says. “I had hoped to reach shelter by tonight and rendezvous with the rest of my team, but it seems like pressing ahead would be unwise.”

Aura returns to her motorcycle and parks it properly next to Arthur’s coupe. As she is sorting through some of the contents of the cargo box, the sky opens up. An arc of lightning branches between several clouds before it strikes downward at one of the mountain peaks back down the road a ways. Hail the size of gumballs begins to fall, making a terrible din on the metal surfaces of Arthur’s vehicle. Aura, who was beginning to put on a poncho, seems to think better of it and instead puts her motorcycle helmet back on.

[Heim]

Post #0070: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Hail begins to batter Arthur's head, and he instinctively moves to get back into the car. Quickly scrambling in, he catches himself before closing the door.

"You can sit in here if you want, I'll clear the passenger seat!"

He slams the drivers side shut, hastily moving the shotgun, ammo and his bag over to the side.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0071: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Aura opens the passenger-side door and slides into the seat. Over the sound of the hail, Arthur can hear her sigh of relief through the enclosed, black dome of the helmet, which she quickly removes. Her silky black bob-cut hair falls smoothly back into place, but Arthur catches several emotions as they briefly cross her face before she resumes her rigid composure: fatigue, apprehension and eyes that can’t disguise their excitement at the energy on display outside. For a moment, Arthur half-expects her to open the door and go back outside. But she doesn’t, instead adjusting her cuff-links and tie briefly before settling into a vaguely uncomfortable silence.

[Heim]

Post #0072: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Silence continues to reign as Arthur reflects on the almost haphazard nature of his offer.

Should have considered what being in here together might entail. Now what?

As has been true since he first encountered Aura, Arthur can think of many questions which might serve as the basis for a productive conversation. However, the time he's spent talking with her and Pulse has, to him, etched a line in the sand distinguishing what is and is not a suitable topic.

It shouldn't be related to why they're here, or what their objective is. Probing about personal details also seems like a bad call.

Instinctively, he scratches his stubble.

Something directly related to me maybe?

Arthur looks out the windscreen. The falling hail partially obscures his view, but the overlook does a good job of conveying the sheer openness (and emptiness) of their surroundings. Being confronted by the vista causes his thoughts to drift.

Nothing and no one along the road to nowhere, only clearings of empty tree stumps.

As vignettes of their drive flash in his mind, he remembers the discomfort he felt when first laying eyes on the deforestation the previous night. That thought leads him to a new set of vignettes, also about the previous night. Still half searching for a way to break the silence, he eventually realizes that he doesn't have a good idea of what happened to the gas station owner, other than that she's still alive. At least, that's the impression Aura and Pulse's words on the matter gave him.

"You know, I just realized I don't know really know what happened to the proprietor of the store from last night. How did your... Attempt to apprehend them go?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0073: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Aura’s demeanor tenses up, her brow furrowing. She reaches up and rubs her right horn. “I followed her trail outside, down to the river. Whoever she was, she is smart enough to know how to lose someone in the dark and cover her tracks by moving through water.” The small woman briefly places both of her hands on her quads, just above the knee, then quickly draws her pistol and examines the slide and chamber briefly before placing it on the dashboard in front of her. She sighs loudly. “But, although your shot was not enough to kill her quickly, she will need intervention to stop the bleeding and mend any damage to her lungs or heart. Otherwise, she is as good as dead.”

[Heim]

Post #0074: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Arthur finds his gaze drawn to the pistol.

"I'm... Well, glad is the wrong word, but I was worried after what you said last night that I had essentially done nothing but endanger myself by choosing to stand my ground."

He feels compelled to further explain himself, but his thoughts are disordered by the knowledge that he has, more than likely, killed someone.

Regardless of danger or intent, being capable of...

Choosing not to dwell on the matter, he reaches for some way to extend the conversation.

"Um, another thing. You and Pulse mentioned that she was a member of a cult. I know what Clansdoom is now, but that's more of a rallying cry, rather than a specific groups ideology. Is there anything notable about the cult she is-was part of?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0075: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“I try not to worry too much about the motives and strategic goals of enemies. Those are matters best handled by people that have skill and training in those areas. I try to focus on my job, mainly, and the cult is of concern because of its violent tendencies. Thus, they are a security concern; completing our primary mission objective could be significantly complicated if cult members get involved.” Aura shifts uncomfortably in her seat, clearly agitated by the thought of that happening. “I specialize in personal protection, so I can’t properly fill my role until the target is located.”

Outside, the hail begins to fall harder as the sky grows even darker.

[Heim]

Post #0076: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Arthur puts a pin in each bit of knowledge Aura gives him. With pieces of information pilling up, he feels within reach of a suitable framework through which to view his situation. From his perspective, the conversation leads somewhat naturally into two areas of interest.

Wing, Brass, Ramen Women.

He is aware of/has met people who are indicated to be team members of Aura and Pulse, and it seems that said team will be rendezvousing soon. Considering the danger and headaches of becoming acquainted with the aforementioned duo, it seems like a good idea to go in with some expectations if he can.

On the other hand...

Such a direct mention of "the target" reminds him of the incredible coincidence that both he and Aura's group are going to the same obscure place with the same goal. Over the course of the days driving, his curiosity at who they were searching for had grown as he'd found himself crafting increasingly unlikely theories, only to find himself thinking that, in this situation, nothing was too unlikely not to consider.

Not likely-

That she would tell him if he asked. That was far more certain the theories he'd entertained.

"You mentioned earlier that we'll be rendezvousing with your team soon. Do you think there's anything I should know beforehand?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0077: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“It is a reasonable question,” Aura says after a moment’s pause. “Brass is the team leader, so we all defer to her judgment. Ink and Brass have the longest history with the house that employs us, while the rest of the team was more recently recruited.” She turns away from Arthur and looks out the window of the coupe. “It has been a tough few months since I was brought into the team,” she says, her tone more contemplative, “but things were going well until just recently.”

[Heim]

Post #0078: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Brass is the leader, there's someone named Ink, and these are probably all code-names too.

Pinning and connecting yet more info to the board, Arthur finds himself curious about what Aura says last. He feels somewhat confident in the fact that, since Aura specifically mentioned this, he can push the conversation in a curiosity satiating direction.

"By recently, do you mean what's been happening here on the road?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0079: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“No, no, that was only the latest complication in the mission, which will soon be entering its tenth day. Things have not gone well; the people to whom I…to whom the team answers are not happy,” she says, pointing a thumb at her own chest for emphasis. “And I honestly cannot blame them.”

[Heim]

Post #0080: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Arthur almost asks why on instinct, before remembering that his goal here is to get information that might help him when he's finally confronted with the rest of Aura's team.

...

But there IS, more than likely, time to spare.

We can circle back later.

"I see, is whatever has been going wrong relevant to me?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0081: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“The logic of our situation says no, it is not,” Aura says as she turns back toward Arthur. “Ink is the one that does logic, though. I tend to rely on my gut and intuition more, but….”

Aura’s voice trails off, and Arthur sees an expression of intense grief suddenly come across her face. Normally, he’d expect tears following such a palpable sense of sorrow, but Aura instead looks vexed and a little restless for a few moments.

“This all is so overwhelming,” she says, turning to look out the window, strangely calm again. Her voice is distant. “I did not expect to be so affected when she disappeared.”

[Heim]

Post #00082: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Okay, I had better reign it in.

Not accounting for the fact that he might stumble upon sensitive ground, Arthur decides to circle back earlier than intended for the sake of not treading where he shouldn't. Though, before speaking, he becomes aware of the notion that, for someone so professional seeming, he's managed to see Aura compromise her image quite frequently in such a short time.

She did just say that things have been going poorly.

"No need to talk about something difficult. At any rate, I was more so hoping to get some idea of what I should prepare for once we rendezvous, what peoples reactions will be, what will be expected of me, things of that nature."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0083: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Aura composes herself, but Arthur senses that she’s been holding back some powerful emotions beneath that veneer of professionalism, as practiced and solid as that veneer otherwise seems.

“Well, get ready for no one to believe that you are a human. Pulse and I, and maybe Wing, can take you at your word, but Brass and Ink will be looking for something more concrete. If you answer Ink’s questions and take care not to make Brass angry, though, then you should be fine.”

[Heim]

Post #0084: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"I see, that's good to know in advance. Is it just the five of you, or are there more team members?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0085: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“Thankfully, the team numbers only five.” She exhales. “More would have been problematic, especially by the time I arrived and ended up getting promoted quickly.”

Aura turns about in her seat and rummages through one of the boxes of snacks that sits in the backseat of the coupe. She sits back down, now holding two medium-sized bags of fried pork rinds and several candy bars.

“Feel free to help yourself, Arthur.”

[Heim]

Post #0086: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"Oh, thanks."

Dinner is still an hour or two away, but it's not as though he's been keeping to a schedule while on the road before this.

Plus, I am hungry.

He takes the food from her, before realizing that this snack could be signalling a lull in the conversation, depending on whether Aura is the type to eat while talking like Pulse. As such, he decides to ask another question before opening the packaging.

"Well, if there are five of you, and it's you and Pulse bringing up the rear, then I would like to know your thoughts on that Ramen stand I mentioned before."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0087: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“There were definitely a number of businesses that we talked to as we made our way along the road. We had some questions to try to eliminate possible locations from the list of places to search; since Pulse and I were in the rear, we were just double-checking places that the forward team had already checked.”

She stops talking and unwraps two of the chocolate-and-peanut bars. The cab of the car fills with the scent of cheap chocolate. She then practically inhales them, consuming both in a handful of seconds.

“What was it about that place in particular that has you interested?” she asks, licking some melted chocolate off of her fingertips.

[Heim]

Post #0088: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Aura's explanation strikes Arthur as out of place, specifically, the casual mention of other stops along the road.

"It it was the first inhabited location I had seen in days, and as a business it makes no sense. A street-side ramen stand in the middle of nowhere along a barely tread road is unlikely to get many customers, not to mention how it would resupply ingredients."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0089: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“I am definitely not an expert in restaurant operation, so I do not know about that aspect, but they answered our questions politely and did not drop any suspicious references to cult propaganda. There were other businesses along our route, but we were pushing to move as far as possible each day to catch up with the forward team.”

She retrieves several more candy bars from the box in the backseat and opens a bag of pork rinds.

[Heim]

Post #0090: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"I mean... Well, what about the fact that all other businesses two days up the road were shut down or demolished?"

The lack of other establishments certainly accentuated the shops strange qualities, Arthur felt.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0091: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“That definitely does not sound familiar. Maybe we followed different routes getting here?”

She eats another couple candy bars in one or two bites, licking the melted chocolate off her blue fingers again.

[Heim]

Post #0092: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Arthur considers the idea, once again scratching at his stubble. It was true that the journey wasn't a one way street, at least not completely. Maps of the areas roadways resemble a river delta, with each sleepy town being a one way destination. However, even among these Nowhere is uniquely isolated. All paths without a town at their end eventually converge into the singular, long, winding road to Nowhere. There is something to the argument that said maps have shown themselves to be pretty unreliable, but Arthur feels as though he's barking up the wrong tree.

It's no surprise to Aura that the people running the stand were oni.

That's ultimately what bothers him most. It points to what Pulse said about Arthur coming from a different world. He reflects that Aura is not likely to know what such things entail, but ultimately his desire to get another perspective on the matter wins out.

"(Sigh), honestly, it's not really about the ramen stand, but you're close when you ask about how it is that we both got here."

He hesitates before continuing, worried about being unable to express himself properly, but eventually plows ahead.

"This might sound unrelated, but did you and Pulse discuss what me being in your path mean, or maybe implies?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0093: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“My discussions with Pulse are primarily about the mission.” She pauses and eats several handfuls of pork rinds. She scowls, but is generally facing forward, looking toward the storm beyond the windshield of the coupe, so Arthur gets the impression that she’s not scowling at him. “He and I do not line up…well, on much of anything. The mission makes working together effectively important, though, so I focus on that. You do not seem related to the mission at this point, even if the level of coincidences seems difficult to ignore.”

[Heim]

Post #0094: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
See? Nothing to add.

Arthur feels vexed. Now that he's gone and put them at the forefront of his mind, it will be difficult to ignore the troubling ideas bouncing around in his head.

"..."

He silently gazes at the storm. With so much potential danger on the horizon it seems pointless to chase something that has appeared to swiftly leap out of reach. If he's been transported to the oni's world, then is it even possible for him to find who he's looking for? The fact that he can't even be sure of where he is or how he might have gotten there begins to eat away at him.

I'm still on the road to Nowhere.

That fact hasn't changed, but the double entendre of putting it that way just worsens his growing frustration. Feeling at a loss, he decides to follow up on what Aura said and risk putting a toe across the line.

"Why don't we see just how many more coincidences there are? To start, who is your team looking for?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0095: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“I see,” she says with a brief smile. “So tempting fate is a thing among humans, as well.” Aura pauses. She opens another package of pork rinds, eyes distant for a moment, before she turns and looks directly at Arthur. Outside, the sound of the hail begins to lessen, though it’s still coming down at a healthy rate.

“The target of our mission is the daughter of the heads of House Yoshide. The five of us had been a part of her security detail, but she disappeared under suspicious circumstances. That was over a week ago. Ever since, we have been tasked with finding and retrieving her.”

[Heim]

Post #0096: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"Huh, I see."

Makes sense, it would be absolutely absurd if we were searching for the same person.

Though not quite connecting each bit of Aura's statement, Arthur plows ahead anyhow.

"That sounds like a person of high status, what leads you to believe she's so far off the beaten path?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0097: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“Brass will be upset with me if I share our investigative methods,” Aura says bluntly. “Him-...I mean our target does not seem to have taken much advantage of her resources and status, though, beyond just traveling a long distance.”

Aura belches loudly, then lapses into a thoughtful silence.

“Whatever the case, we are certain she has come this way. The unknown factor is why…it has been a very frustrating few days for me.”

[Heim]

Post #0098: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"So she left without indicating why."

Arthur switches his gaze to the rear-view mirror, surprised to find a frown on his face. He replays the memory of Aura diving into front of him before taking the brunt of a buckshot blast. The image of a privileged girl running off and causing trouble for those who care about her takes root in his imagination. Though, upon realizing this he tries his best to check himself.

You hardly know anything. Assuming something selfish could lead to hostility or misunderstanding.

Instead, he tries to pursue a potentially useful line of questioning.

"Are those that you answer to unhappy because it's taken longer than expected to find her?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0099: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“Her family are unhappy, they are worried, they are impatient. She is the important daughter of an important family.” Aura sighs. “They will not be happy until she is returned.” She shrugs.

Outside, the hail continues. Aura looks restless again, but busies herself with a chocolate and caramel bar for the nearly ten seconds it takes her to eat it. After cleaning her fingers again, she reaches her right hand underneath her suit jacket. After some wrangling, she removes her short sword from wherever she was keeping it. She places it on her lap.

“What bothers me is that she did not tell me she was going somewhere.”

[Heim]

Post #0100: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
Given what Aura just said, combined with her pained expression from earlier, Arthur infers that the two are probably quite close.

See? You were being presumptuous.

In the same mental breath, Arthur realizes that he's been encouraging a personal line of conversation, rather than a practical one. Still staring into the mirror, he watches the ghost of his earlier frown be reborn as a small smile.

This is good. But I shouldn't overdo it.

Taking refuge in the details of Aura's life is all well and good, so long as there aren't any consequences. Realizing this, he suddenly becomes more conscious of his thought process, and a little guilty. Asking Aura's best guess as to why she left seems both insensitive and wasteful, so he searches for a more suitable question through which to continue the conversation.

"Do you have any idea of where to start searching for her once you arrive in Nowhere?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0101: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
“Brass and Ink are both experienced and skilled, and both have worked for House Yoshide much longer than I. They are sure to have made some progress in their investigation.” Aura takes a long breath and looks pretty tense. “At least I hope that will be the case. The major concern is that our target may have been abducted or coerced into leaving by parties unknown. House Yoshide is influential and has many enemies that might benefit from this situation.”

She shakes her head as if to clear it, a familiar, serious look replacing the appearance of tension. She then looks at Arthur.

“I am going to take a nap for a couple hours. We can discuss our plans afterward.”

[Heim]

Post #0102: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
"Understood. I think I'll do that as well."

Arthur's fatigue from the events of last night had yet to dissipate, the process having been delayed by both the day of driving and his conversation with Aura. Feeling glad that they've stopped for a break, he sinks back into the drivers seat as it reclines, forgetting the annoying squeak it makes when adjusted. Though, the prospect of a nap more than washes away his annoyance at the sound. In fact, it quickly washes away his consciousness, and he soon finds himself on the brink of slumber.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0103: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
A hospital bed. Again.

The bright light this time is a single incandescent bulb hanging down above the bed, a vast blackness beyond the simple shade that aims the light toward the bed.

Barely able to see with the glare, Arthur struggles to sit upright, but can’t. He looks around; his hospital bed is in the middle of a vast room or clearing of some kind, with no walls in sight. The claustrophobic memories of hospital rooms give way to a feeling of being exposed. Very exposed.

He can just barely make out other hospital gurneys in the area around him, at the edges of the area illuminated by the light. Finally able to sit up, Arthur is suddenly tossed halfway out of the bed as it lurches to the right. He gets to his feet, now standing on the floor, but his legs feel strangely heavy and unresponsive. Each step feels like he is submerged in mud up to his knees. The hospital bed sinks silently into the floor beside him, the floor rippling slightly, like the surface of a large body of water. He worries for an instant that he will sink, too, and looks for something onto which he can hold.

Staggering, he makes his way to the nearest of the gurneys. He lurches forward, feet still dragging, but manages to grab onto the stainless steel handrail of the gurney. It drifts slightly but stays upright; not all of the wheel-locks have been engaged. He hauls himself up, straining with the effort; everything feels heavy and sluggish.

Leaning on the handrail, he’s now face-to-face with Aura as she lies there, half covered in white hospital sheets, her suit disheveled. The blue skin of her face is locked in a rictus of grief, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Arthur reaches for her hand, trying to wake her from her trance. She is warm to the touch, but the muscles of her arm are limp, as though weighed down.

Arthur looks around for help; maybe a nurse or doctor, anyone, is nearby. But all he can see is blackness, a faint outline of tree stumps along the shoreline.

Shoreline? His feet are suddenly wet, while his eyes are drawn upward; a bright, full moon shines down from where the bright light was a moment earlier. Fog drifts onto the surface of the lake on which he stands.

As if in slow-motion, the gurney on which Aura lies begins to sink. Arthur struggles to move her, lift her, anything, but he also moves only in slow-motion, the bright moonlight seeming to mock him as it reflects off of the black surface of the water beneath him.

She’s sinking much faster than he is. His mind races for a solution, as the moon sways back and forth from the ceiling. The black water swallows her feet and legs. He grabs her by the hand and resolves to never let go, to never leave her behind. The hushed voices of doctors and nurses flood his ears as the effort of holding Aura up drags him to his knees. He grunts and pulls, as though against an immovable object. He holds his breath and heaves one last time, but her hand slips slowly, slowly down….

Knocking.

Something is knocking against the window of the car.

It’s dark outside. Arthur looks about as his confusion clears. He’s lying in the driver’s seat of his coupe, alone.

[Heim]

Post #0104: The Trip (Arthur, Aura)
For a split second, he's fearful that Aura's absence means she's drowned in the moonlit waters of his dream, before realizing that it was, indeed, a dream.

A nightmare.

It's been quite a long time since he'd had one of such intensity. They'd been so common since his time at the hospital that he'd become desensitized. He sits in silence, bathing in the fast fading details.

Things started out much the same as usual, waking up to a bright light in a hospital bed. The appearance of Aura wasn't to form, but nor was it bizarre. Arthur reflects that his lack of social life probably explains why his dreams rarely contain people, and that Aura being the subject here is likely due to their conversation proceeding his nap. Her expression of grief can be explained through similar logic, but as he wades into the latter half of the nightmare his analysis is bogged down, or perhaps fogged up, by the sheer desperation with which he held onto Aura, how determined he was not to let her go.

The moments pass, Arthur immersed in the exhausted aftermath of his night terror. Gradually, the knocking on the window registers as louder and louder to his distant mind, and after rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, he instinctively steps outside.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0105: The Trip (Arthur)
The beam of a flashlight pierces the dark of the night as Arthur looks around, blinking at the brightness.

“Good evening, sir,” a firm, female voice behind the beam says.

Arthur can make out blue flashes illuminating a police cruiser parked a short distance behind his coupe. As his vision clears, he sees a familiar-looking, busty woman with dark hair, dressed in the brown pants, belt and pistol holster, and overcoat indicating that she is a police officer, badge and everything.

“You feeling okay?” she asks, a frank smile parting her full lips.

[Heim]

Post #0106: The Trip (Arthur)
He feels faint. If he hadn't already gone over his nightmare so thoroughly, he could easily be led to believe that this situation was a continuation of it.

If I were her, what would I want to hear?

Of course, it wasn't that simple. There was the issue of what had transpired while he was asleep, the issue of where Aura had gone. If he was to make up a story or reveal information, he would have to be sure not to say anything discrepant. He also couldn't be sure of precisely what she wanted to hear, although he COULD be sure that she wanted some sort of revenge... Or did she?

It doesn't make sense.

Why would she dress up as a police officer, where did she get the badge, the cruiser? And wouldn't someone who'd been shot, even an oni, need more time to recover from a wound in their chest? Moreover, there was no trace of her earlier demeanor, and wouldn't she be threatening him with her weapon by now?

What the hell?

Standing just outside his car, not saying a word, Arthur concludes that this police officer and the store owner from last night must be different people, despite every similarity between them. Having reached this conclusion, his overloaded brain follows up with a question.

"What's a police officer doing this late on the road to Nowhere?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0107: The Trip (Arthur)
“She’s just glad she didn’t have to call in a body,” she says with a short laugh. “Spent a couple minutes thinking I’d have to bust up your window, do CPR. You just didn’t want to wake up, I guess.”

She circles back toward her vehicle.

“You all alone out here?”

[Heim]

Post #0108: The Trip (Arthur)
"I'm... No, I'm with someone. At least... I was. Did you-well, you asked so-"

She's not here.

Arthur puts a hand on his forehead and slumps back against the car door. Disoriented doesn't even begin to describe it, his mind tries to re-stabilize through the thick fog of confusion that's enveloped him.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0109: The Trip (Arthur)
“Sir, are you feeling alright?” the officer asks. Arthur notices that she moves her hand away from where it had been, hovering near where her pistol is holstered. “Have you been drinking?”

[Heim]

Post #110: The Trip (Arthur)
The memory of last night flashes before him, briefly overlaying reality. He abandons his slump for a more alert posture, his eyes locking onto her holster. Heart rate creeping high, he reaches for the sky.

"No officer, I haven't been drinking. I just woke up from a nightmare, and was greeted by a police cruiser. The person who was with me also seems to be gone, so I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed."

He pauses, glancing over to where Aura's motorbike should be.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0111: The Trip (Arthur)
There’s no sign of Aura’s motorcycle, or any trace indicating when she might have departed.

Perception test, target 7, result 9.

He finds no evidence of the hailstorm that was ongoing when he fell asleep, either. Peering into the backseat of his coupe, he sees no trace of candy bars or bags of chips, no crates of snacks. No shotgun. No shells.

“Easy now, sir, no reason to get alarmed.” She shows her gloved hands, both empty. “You’re not in trouble. I only stopped because this isn’t the safest place to park once the sun goes down. More of a sightseeing spot for the view than a rest-stop, if you will.”

She pauses and looks around. “Said someone was with you. Are you searching for them?”

[Heim]

Post #0112: The Trip (Arthur)
"..."

First, take care of the officer.

"No, I don't think so. I didn't expect them to drive off on their own, maybe they tried to wake me up like you did but I just continued to sleep through it. I've had an exhausting time the past couple days, so I hope you will forgive my catatonia and confusion."

He gives a small, deliberate sigh.

"At any rate, it's nothing to worry about. Is there something you need me to do? Perhaps It's not legal for me to park here overnight? Actually, do you know what the time is?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0113: The Trip (Arthur)
“Nothing illegal, just not particularly safe, either,” the officer says. She pulls up her left jacket sleeve and looks at her wristwatch. “As for the time…huh, that’s weird. Watch’s busted.”

The officer shakes her hand back-and-forth, then looks at her watch again.

“Well, it was quarter-to-eight when I left the squad car.”

The darkness of night has been accentuated by a gathering fog, Arthur notices, while the air is damp and chilly.

[Heim]

Post #0114: The Trip (Arthur)
"I see, well, do you have an estimate of how long it would take to get to Nowhere from here?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0115: The Trip (Arthur)
“The road to Nowhere, eh?” the officer says with a chuckle. “Well, normally it’s only a couple hours, but unfortunately tonight is a special night.”

The officer smiles, white teeth almost seeming to sparkle in the weird light cast by her flashlight beam shining through the gathering fog.

[Heim]

Post #0116: The Trip (Arthur)
A chill runs down Arthur spine, the cold air seems to close in around him.

"What do you mean by that?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0117: The Trip (Arthur)
“Part of the road on the other side of the mountain washed out during a storm a couple days ago. The road is closed tonight…has been closed all day…so they can complete the repairs.”

[Heim]

Post #0118: The Trip (Arthur)
"Excuse me?"

Unless the officers definition of "a couple" was different from his, what she described doesn't make sense. There hadn't been anything resembling a storm throughout his trip until this evening, and that storm seemed to have left without a trace, despite all indication that its effects would remain for several days... A bubble bursts in the back of Arthur's head.

A coma? But-

Was he hungry? Thirsty? He'd been preoccupied since waking up, so it was hard to tell.

"Officer, the road to nowhere is long, so I find it hard to believe that any departments around here make the rounds on a regular basis... Did someone call in about me?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0119: The Trip (Arthur)
“I’m just here because I drew the short straw. Got to spend my day babysitting the road crew. Luckily, no one but you turned up. Hardly surprising, given how remote this stretch of road is.”

[Heim]

Post #0120: The Trip (Arthur)
He blinks, realizing his mistake, before slapping his forehead.

Get a grip.

Of course she was out with the road crew, who would think to call the police over a parked car?

Straighten the timeline.

Realizing it would be better to get his bearings and ask the officer questions (rather than trying to get rid of her) Arthur sets about putting the pieces together.

"Sorry, I'm confused, so if you could stay here for a few minutes and answer some questions I would really appreciate it."

He and Aura had been in the car together, already within the boundaries of bad weather as a storm was creeping over the horizon. They'd both gone to sleep, and he woke up what seemed to have been a few hours later. She, along with all her supplies and the shotgun, had disappeared. According to this woman, there'd been another storm a few days prior that a roadwork crew she'd "babysat" had been tasked with cleaning up after.

Actually, he'd made another mistake. Considering the pace of his travel, he would have been several hundred miles away at the time of this first storm. Given the time of year, plus the unpredictable nature of mountain weather, two potentially road wrecking storms within a few days of each other wasn't surprising. The problem was that the evenings hailstorm appeared never to have occurred, and if it had, the road repair would have been halted at the very least.

Unaware of precisely how much time had passed while he'd puzzled things over, Arthur finally seeks to confirm something.

"Are the crew still out there? The storm this evening was pretty bad, so I was confused to hear that work was being done today."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0121: The Trip (Arthur)
“They had to stop during the worst of the hail, of course, but they were already geared up to work into the evening. The delay just means they’ll be paving even later into the night than they were planning.”

The officer completes a circuit back to her cruiser as she answers, reaches into the cab through the open window, and returns to stand next to Arthur.

“Here, have a drink,” she says, holding out an unopened bottle of cola. “Some fluids and sugar will help you clear your head.”

She smiles again.

“Are you on your way to Nowhere? If so, we might be able to squeak you past the roadwork before morning; I know all the guys on the crew and it’s not a big deal. They finished all the structural repairs earlier. All that’s left is to grade the bed and pave it, but it’s technically driveable.”

[Heim]

Post #0122: The Trip (Arthur)
Her similarities to the owner from last night, coupled with the confusing situation, had kept Arthur from noticing the officers positive demeanor. He accepts the cola with an unconscious smile of his own, the first swig seeming to wash away at least some of his anxieties.

"I will take you up on that offer. One more thing, perhaps the darkness isn't helping, but I thought a strong hail would leave behind more evidence than a little fog. Is that actually normal?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0123: The Trip (Arthur)
“Maybe the hail turned to rain on this side of the mountain,” she replies. “Could be where all this fog is coming from.” She walks back to her cruiser.

“I’ll escort you to the roadworks,” she says as she opens the squad car door. “It’s a little under two hours away. From there, you should be able to make it to Nowhere with maybe an hour or so to go until midnight.”

The officer climbs into the car and turns up the intensity of the blue lights, but makes them flash a bit less. The squad car roars to life, being one of the larger models of sedans with plenty of room for a large engine. She pulls up to where Arthur’s coupe is parked at a not-quite-perpendicular angle to the road, inside the three or so parking spaces for the scenic overlook. The passenger-side window rolls down and she leans across the center console to look at Arthur.

“If you are feeling better now, we can head out, but no rush. I’m on overtime, after all,” she says, flashing her very white teeth again in a large smile.

[Heim]

Post #0124: The Trip (Arthur)
Wordlessly, he enters his own car, feeling relieved at the turn things have taken. However, just before he turns the key, a though occurs to him. He rummages through his rucksack, unearthing the journal he'd been writing in last night. He flips to where the notes from his conversation with Pulse should be.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0125: The Trip (Arthur)
The notes are right where Arthur left them, just a little less than a day ago. The strange events of the past few days seem strangely distant, the aftertaste of the cola feeling strangely familiar and reassuring. But he needs look no further than the list of conclusions he drew from his chat with the tall, snow-white oni with the bandaged eye to recall just how bizarre things had gotten.

Arthur hears some tinney squawking coming from the squad car. Looking over, he sees the officer holding the radio receiver in her hand.

“...roger that, roadwork’s gone well, only a couple hours behind schedule. Gonna complete my patrol, should be done by midnight, over.”

[Heim]

Post #0126: The Trip (Arthur)
He shuts the notebook and starts the engine, feeling much more secure in his sanity than he'd been after waking up.

"I'm ready to drive officer!"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0127: The Trip (Arthur)
“I’ll hit my hazard lights when we’re coming up on one of those mountain-road turns, so you know to slow down,” she yells back to Arthur over the sound of the idling engines. “Here we goooo.”

The police cruiser pulls away, at first slowly, but gradually gathers speed. Arthur maintains a safe distance, but otherwise has no problems keeping up. Before long, Arthur is making good time along the road, especially considering the poor visibility as the fog settles in for the night. He briefly flirts with some drowsiness, but the stiff chill of the night air through an open window chases off the cozy feeling.

Arthur looks at the clock on the dashboard as the roadworks slowly take form from among the vague orange glows cloaked in fog; it reads quarter-to-ten. Around a dozen men, two dump trucks, and a steamroller are at work leveling layers of gravel and packing them down, presumably in preparation for soon being paved with asphalt. The police cruiser turns on its hazard lights and toots its siren as it pulls to a halt, which prompts a couple of the men to walk over to it.

After a brief discussion, the police cruiser pulls into the other lane and the officer gets out and walks over to the driver’s side of Arthur’s coupe.

“Alright, sir, one of the men is going to walk along the route you should take through the site. Just follow him to the other side, and you’ll be on your way.”

[Heim]

Post #0128: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur nods.

"Thank you very much for all this... Before I go, can you ask the workers if they had anyone come up the road over the last few hours?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0129: The Trip (Arthur)
“Sure thing,” the officer replies. She turns toward the group of workers and lets out a shrill whistle.

“Hey, did all y’all happen to see anyone else come through here while I was away?” she hollers.

The workers shake their heads.

“Well, sorry, sounds like it’s just been you today, sir,” she says as she leans on the driver’s side roof. “Just keep on this road, it’ll take you along the lake and down into the valley, where the village is located.”

Arthur nods and rolls up the window. He follows the worker carefully through the gravel of the roadworks, then heads onward down the road. The road winds on down the side of several mountains, with no sign of any other vehicles. In contrast with the other side of the mountain, these slopes are blanketed with thick stands of trees, though he only gets a few glimpses of his surroundings through the fog.

The clock reads ten minutes-to-eleven as he drives down a mountainside road overlooking Mirror Lake. on his right. A break through the trees gives a good view of columns of fog rising up above its waters. Arthur shivers at the thought of its frigid waters at this time of year, with snowmelt from the nearby slopes adding to its mass.

A sound near his feet alarms Arthur.

Reaction test, target 8, result 3.

A small stinging-feeling comes from his ankle, followed by a fierce burning washing over his torso and face. A slight slithering sound confirms that it’s likely Penny, a copperhead belonging to Pulse, that has bitten him.

[Heim]

Post #0130: The Trip (Arthur)
"Agh!"

Arthur pumps the breaks, clenching his teeth. Thankfully, no obstructions appear on the road, so he is able to stop and extricate himself from the car, awkwardly so due to the now intense burning sensation. Now outside, he cautiously reaches back inside to grab his bag, taking out and turning on the flashlight once he's done so.

"(Pant) (Pant) (Pant)."

He leans against the Coupe, shining the flashlight into the fog to test its effects on visibility. Then, he turns around, intending to spot the snake who bit him with it, before realizing that a bright light shined onto its face is likely to make things worse.

"Haaah... Was biting me really necessary? Well, what is it?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0131: The Trip (Arthur)
“Greetings, Arthur. Let me apologize for biting you…soooorrrry! *wink emoji* As you may remember, I am Penny, Pulse’s better-half…*ahem*...familiar. Yes, and I bit you because he’s having trouble contacting you and Aura.”

Penny’s head bobs back and forth, focused on Arthur the whole time as she slithers out from hiding beneath the driver’s seat and climbs onto the seat. Her scales, a mix of silver and copper, have a metallic luster that glints even in the foggy night air.

“The venom strengthens the connection. Unfortunately, you are likely to also experience some hallucinogenic and psi-active sensory anomalies as it attacks…*ahem*... stimulates your nervous system. Additionally, Pulse and I have to apologize because we frankly have no…zero, zip, zilch…data on how the venom will affect humans. *shrug* We wouldn’t have contacted you unless it was important, but hopefully it won’t kill you.”

If a snake can look apologetic, Arthur gets the feeling that this is what it would look like.

“The general message that I have been given is that Aura has deviated from the mission profile. Big understatement. Pulse didn’t really understand when I tried to inform him, but I sensed some distinct emotional-state variations between you and Aura as you communicated earlier. Thus, while I am not sure I can give you a good rating or rubric by which to gauge my statement, I would like you to consider Aura to be having an…emotional breakdown? Does that sound like a human term?”

[Heim]

Post #0132: The Trip (Arthur)
The now standard barrage of questions threatens to spill forth from Arthur's mouth, but his concern at various aspects of the situation keep it at bay, along with the knowledge that he might not have long before the venom Penny mentioned starts robbing him of some important faculties.

"Okay. Do you know where Aura is?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0133: The Trip (Arthur)
“This is going to be hard to communicate to a non-spirit being…let me see if a visual helps….”

Arthur’s head explodes with some kind of image of…time…space…the universe…??

Arthur takes one dread as cosmic mysteries unfold in his optical cortex in mere seconds.

“Oof…that’s my bad. Definitely not the right call. Here, let me bite you again, I can transfer most of that back to our collective. Not urgent, I’ll hold off on the venom this time. Your nose is gonna bleed in a moment, by the way.”

The snake is correct; Arthur’s nose begins to bleed. Not rapidly, but definitely bleeding. It combines with the flush..rapidly turning into an uncomfortable, clammy feeling…and a slight pins-and-needles feeling in the leg of the ankle that was bitten, along with the cosmic mysteries.

“Alright...the pedestrian’s guide to spiritual plane pandimensionality is…I guess maybe the word is ‘continuity?’ Yeah, let’s go with that. Aura is no longer in the same continuity as you are, so I am unable to locate her. Haven’t been able to do so for several hours.”

[Heim]

Post #0134: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur shuffles over to the open car door in order for Penny to bite him, keen to dispel the destabilizing effects of the cosmic vision.

"(Exhale)... Yes, continuity is a good word, I think. You mentioned that Aura and I were communicating... Does that have to do with the dream I had?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0135: The Trip (Arthur)
“No, silly, I was referring to the discussion you had here in the car during the inclement weather. She became very attached to her ward during the past few months, whether she wants to admit it or not. I think Aura is aware, but her ward has unstable spiritual energy, and it has slowly been agitating Aura’s dragon.”

Penny rears up and delivers a gentle bite to Arthur’s forehead.

The earlier loss of dread is reversed by the treatment.

“I’m beginning to get a feel for you humans. Oni are, from your perspective, not particularly emotionally stable. Poetically-speaking, oni have fire for blood. Humans seem to have…well, they seem to have blood for blood.”

Penny’s head stops bobbing around suddenly.

“Did you mention a dream? One with Aura?”

[Heim]

Post #0136: The Trip (Arthur)
"I did... Since you seem interested, elaborating seems like a good idea. Before that though, communicating is not the best word for what we were doing. 'Talking' would most likely... communicate what you wanted to say better."

Despite feeling uncharacteristically anxious, and quite uncomfortable due to the venom, Arthur proceeds in explaining his dream.

"It was a nightmare. I have nightmares on a regular basis, but this one felt very intense. I mentioned it because Aura was there, and she... Firstly, it was hard for me to move, like I was surrounded by mud. Aura was even worse. She looked... horrible, she didn't respond to anything, and she seemed to be far heavier than in reality, or maybe that was just because I was so weak..."

With the details crawling back, Arthur feels more and more unnerved.

"Anyway, things ended with us stranded in the middle of a lake. We were on a sinking bed, and I was trying hard to keep her head above water... I woke up just as she became fully submerged."

Feeling dejected, he finishes.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0137: The Trip (Arthur)
"Sorry, I never think to say things like 'talk' because I can't, haha. But, on a more serious note, I am sorry to hear that your dream was so distressing. Things that disrupt sleep can be difficult for organisms that rely on it for their physical and mental wellbeing." Penny pauses, as if to underline that sentiment. "As for the dream itself, did it seem to you that the lake in your dream was this lake just over there?" Penny points her tail toward Mirror Lake.

[Heim]

Post #0138: The Trip (Arthur)
"That would make sense. I've been en route to it for a while now, and humans tend to dream about things that have been on their mind."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0139: The Trip (Arthur)
"Now that we are this close to it, I can say that this lake has extraordinarily bad energy. So bad that's it's not easy to tell what might be causing it. Oof, yeah, I'm going to suggest that you don't go any closer than this if you can possibly avoid it."

[Heim]

Post #0140: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur finds himself disturbed by this revelation. A few questions come to mind, and he takes a moment to craft one which can cover the important points.

"That's troubling, so I'm glad you told me now. Is there anything else you can tell me about it, that is to say, how might it affect... beings who come into contact with it?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0141: The Trip (Arthur)
"I would be surprised if there isn't some kind of curse at work here. *shakes head* But if we are in your human world, then I can't really speak to the deeper nature of such things, at least not without being able to communicate more consistently with Pulse and Imara-Mara."

[Heim]

Post #0142: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur is forced to push aside yet another wave of anxious worry.

"Alright then, so what is it that I should do now?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0143: The Trip (Arthur)
"Last time Aura was sensed, she was headed toward the town. Her mental state was that of someone expecting to sacrifice their life accomplishing a goal, which suggests she's forgotten important priorities surrounding the effort to secure the mission target. After we have finished 'talking,' I will administer some physiological remedies that will negate the effects of the poison and allow you to continue on your way. Please hurry, as Aura may endanger others besides herself, especially if further humans are involved and they are as physically different from oni as you appear to us to be."

[Heim]

Post #0144: The Trip (Arthur)
He can't help but look stunned.

"Okay, I need to clarify some things. Firstly, you mentioned that we are in the human world, are you certain of that? If so, where is Pulse and the rest of Aura's team? Secondly, do you have any idea what Aura is thinking, going to Nowhere alone like this? Also, why would she be expecting to sacrifice her life there? And finally... I will do it, but how is it that you came to expect me to chase after someone with a death-wish into an isolated and potentially dangerous place? Is it the case that there aren't any other options, and isn't she in another continuity?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0145: The Trip (Arthur)
"Alright, let's go in order of asking. *ahem* The assumption that we are in the human world is just that, an assumption. The lady with the car with lights that flash was a human, if I am able to judge by spiritual and emotional auras, as were the people working in the road. Meanwhile, we've seen no oni and I am having difficulty communicating with oni I should be able to communicate with, Aura and Pulse. Having slipped into some alternate world, continuity, or whatever it might be could potentially explain the difficulty on that point."

Arthur gets the impression Penny is taking a deep breath.

" I am guessing where Pulse and Aura are based on their last known location, navigational bearing, and stated intentions or plans. As for the rest of the team, we better hope they are not as separated as we are. Next, to speak to Aura's thoughts, I mentioned that she became very connected to her ward. She was promoted to attache and spent a great deal of time with the mission target. This individual has unusual spiritual energy, and I believe Aura also may be unusually prone to forming emotional bonds with the person whom she is protecting. Just an impression, but I can tell for sure that she was not in a good place during your discussion earlier, emotionally-speaking."

[Heim]

Post #0146: The Trip (Arthur)
"Okay, sorry to interrupt, but I think I understand. Just to confirm, continual anomalies have, potentially, separated the team. This is a bad turn of events, and you are trying to tackle the problems of the situation in order of severity, which is why you would ask me to do something like this, correct?"

Thoughts of Auras team lead Arthur to suddenly remember an important detail.

"Oh! Also, you were supposed to be accompanying Aura, and... Hebi was supposed to be accompanying me, correct? Do you believe Hebi's been lost in some similar anomaly?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0147: The Trip (Arthur)
"Yes, it does seem like a truly unfortunate situation is unfolding, otherwise we wouldn't rely on you for things for which you are ill-equipped. As for Hebi and I, we came into your car for warmth, and Aura seems to have taken some effort to evade our knowledge as she left, or our detection abilities are even worse than they appear to be at present. So both myself and my pit viper accomplice are at your disposal."

A loud hiss from somewhere inside the car let's Arthur know that Hebi is at least present, if nothing else.

[Heim]

Post #0148: The Trip (Arthur)
Still feeling quite uncomfortable, but ultimately satisfied, Arthur fights against the aches and sensations of the venom, touching his toes before stretching his hands above his head. Waiting for Penny to move off the drivers seat, he reenters the car, before realizing one last matter of importance.

"Once you withdraw the venom, we won't be able to communicate like this, will we? And what about when we get to Nowhere, will you two simply stay in the car?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0149: The Trip (Arthur)
Penny moves quickly across the center console into the passenger seat of the coupe.

"You are correct, communication after I treat you for the venom effects will be considerably curtailed, potentially just empathic projections...feelings...if we are in very close proximity...and then whatever body language or signals you want to set up. Although we are not fans of the cold, we are not as impaired by it as other snakes, since we aren't normal snakes, but a fusion of animal and spiritual beings, imbued with aspects of Pulse through our familiar bond with him. Thus, we may be of some limited help to you, which I will quickly outline, along with some information about the nature of the mission that we will disclose, since secrecy is now less important, with the viability of the mission itself potentially in question."

[Heim]

Post #0150: The Trip (Arthur)
"I'm glad to finally be informed of the details, but what I'm thinking is that, once we arrive at the village, you could re-administer the venom and the two of you might accompany me. I think that being able to communicate with you would make the search a lot more practical, and I also think you would be helpful in alerting me to danger. What are your thoughts?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0151: The Trip (Arthur)
"A good plan, but I am mainly able to negate the primary physiological symptoms of the venom. I am concerned that neurological and spiritual effects might accumulate, and since I very, very new to using the venom on humans, I am hesitant to risk the safety of our only humanoid agent," Penny communicates.

"Stop pussyfooting around. If he's willing to take the risk, keep in mind that we may also eventually have no choice," Hebi speaks up.

"Fair point, Hebi."

Penny turns to address Arthur again.

"We can reassess when the time comes. Hebi has abilities more centered around personal safety, too, so you will benefit most from keeping him close by. I have better detection and scout abilities, but the issue is complicated by Hebi's venom being considerably more dangerous than mine, so you should seek me out if we are considering using the venom to communicate again."

[Heim]

Post #0152: The Trip (Arthur)
"I assumed there was danger in having the venom re-injected. My logic is that, if future confrontations are going to be anything like what happened at the gas station, the potential long term risks outweigh the short term advantages. That said, I'm not physically capable when compared even to other humans, so taking in Hebi's venom seems like a risk I might not want to take, outside of a very dire situation."

Arthur catches his breath for a moment.

"With that settled, could you tell me what I need to know about the mission?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0153: The Trip (Arthur)
"Indeed. The primary objective of the mission is to retrieve a daughter of House Yoshide. She is known as Kahime-sama by her servants, and that is the way to refer to her among the team members. Aura also set up a codeword involving a running joke between the two of them, something to allow Kahime-sama to recognize servants of her house. The codeword is "Yomitsuki," used as a term of endearment for Kahime-sama. As you know, oni are capable of altering their appearance, so how she will appear is difficult to ascertain, especially if she is aware she is not among other oni. She is a young woman, only a teenager, but she has unusual powers. It is suspected that her powers may also begin acting up, as an auspicious date in the House Yoshide calendar is approaching, and she would have taken part in purification rituals to prepare her, but such rituals have obviously not taken place since..."

Penny's message is gradually drowned out by an unexplained, high-pitched, ringing tone in Arthur's head.

[Heim]

Post #0154: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur squints in consternation.

"Sorry, could you communicate that again? The part starting with the purification rituals to be specific. It seems like the venom is taking a toll."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0155: The Trip (Arthur)
"Oof, unfortunate, I am hesitant to figuratively crank up the volume, but this is important, so I will."

Arthur feels a slight burning sensation at the edge of his ear lobes.

"And there's the expected physiological limit to someone not familiar with this form of communication. I can fix the burning, but if you are experiencing something different or more complex, it may not be the venom. But, pressing on with details...since she is missing, we are heading in expecting that she has not had access to any of the anticipated purification effects of said rituals. The results of this are hard to predict, but I will let you know that the mission target can, at times, radiate strong effects of shadow, confusion and obsession, potentially unintentionally or instinctively. These aren't foolproof methods to detect her, unfortunately, because her shadow effects can foil close-range detection with some consistency."

[Heim]

Post #0156: The Trip (Arthur)
The ringing and increased intensity of communication between Arthur and Penny leave the former irritated, though he has managed not to miss the important points of what Penny mentioned.

"So, Aura is prepared to die searching for the target, a teenage girl named Kahime, who would recognize the code word 'Yomitsuki'. The target can also be the cause of negative effects that she might not be able to control, and these effects could also make it hard to find... Ugh, this ringing is... Maybe it's coming from the lake?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0157: The Trip (Arthur)
"Please describe the phenomenon you are experiencing in detail. We may have something to counteract the effect, although with the previous caveat about effects on humans being unknown."

[Heim]

Post #0158: The Trip (Arthur)
"It's a sort of high pitched ringing tone, and it feels like it's in my head, as if I could plug my ears, or go deaf, and still hear it."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0159: The Trip (Arthur)
"Hebi?"

"I heard...that could be an instinctive reaction to an anomaly of some kind. Can't speculate further; that lake is putting out the kind of stench that could cause it, or which could mask the real cause."

"But a self-defense mechanism?"

"From an oni, I would say yes, but Arthur's playing with a different deck of cards. Arthur, tell any oni you might encounter about this. Mortals sometimes carry wards against this kind of thing."

"We know nothing about human magic, unfortunately," Penny adds.

[Heim]

Post #0160: The Trip (Arthur)
Concern has been Arthur's most prominent emotion even before the fateful encounter at the station, though that only does so much in dulling his worry about the current predicament.

"I understand, is there anything else I should know?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0161: The Trip (Arthur)
"Wing is Aura's friend. Brass and Ink may view what is happening with more skepticism, particularly if Aura looks incompetent. Beware of the group dynamic. You've demonstrated a willingness to be helpful that I can only assume is a personal trait or species-wide instinct of humans; oni have no such instinct to be helpful or even cooperate. If you were a random oni, we wouldn't have used a collaborative approach."

[Heim]

Post #0162: The Trip (Arthur)
"I'm guessing I should keep that in mind if I encounter the other members of the group, or oni in general."

Arthur thinks on the apparent antipathy of oni to being outgoing, and wonders if clarifying his reasons for being so cooperative would be a good idea, arriving at a notable conclusion in the process.

"You say that oni aren't inherently cooperative, and I'm sure you're right, but that doesn't line up with my experience. As far as I would expect from combat ready members of a search squad, Aura and Pulse have been helpful and exceptionally accommodating, not to mention forthcoming with details. Again, I'm going to proceed with what you said in mind, but I also think what I just mentioned is interesting to consider."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0163: The Trip (Arthur)
"Oni are curious, though,” Penny replies, "which I think you may want to consider in your calculus. You are the first human either of them have ever met. But you aren't wrong; Pulse and Aura are not particularly ill-tempered, as oni go. At least not on good days. *wink*"

[Heim]

Post #0164: The Trip (Arthur)
"Honestly, I've been wondering about that. Is that why they invited me to travel with them, despite the risks?"

He finishes his thought, then smiles to himself before sharing.

"Humans, actually have a saying for this: 'Curiosity killed the cat.'"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0165: The Trip (Arthur)
"Cat?"

[Heim]

Post #0166: The Trip (Arthur)
"You've never heard of them? They're feline creatures, like tigers or lions, just much smaller and, generally, friendlier to humans. The phrase comes from the fact that cats are often curious, and can get themselves into trouble by pursuing that curiosity."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0167: The Trip (Arthur)
"Interesting. We believe you, but this is a novel concept. Oni apparently have a significant difference from humans in this regard; oni don't breed animals for domestication."

"You also said 'friendlier,'" Hebi adds. "While some animal spirits do not oppose assisting oni on-principle, there are many animals...though your term may be more broad...that are very dangerous to oni."

"Probably something like 'creature,' 'beast,' or 'monster.'" Penny replies.

"Whatever."

[Heim]

Post #0168: The Trip (Arthur)
"Well, I'm sure we could talk about this for a while. After my conversation with Pulse earlier, I've definitely become interesting in oni and their society. But we shouldn't be chatting like this, right? You sounded urgent earlier."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0169: The Trip (Arthur)
"Then we will administer the treatment and let you get on your way. May you find success in your endeavors." Penny communicates, then rears up, poised to bite, but then gives Arthur a look that he takes to be looking for confirmation or consent to treatment.

[Heim]

Post #0170: The Trip (Arthur)
He ponders any potential questions left unanswered, then, looks about the interior of the car to see that everything is in order. Doing so, he remembers an important component of his earlier confusion.

"About the food that was in here when we left the store, as well as the shotgun Pulse gave me, do you have any idea where those went? With them gone, I was worried I'd deliriously dreamed everything involving oni."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0171: The Trip (Arthur)
"Aura definitely snagged those," Hebi says. "Classic oni going to battle mindset; all the guns and all the food."

[Heim]

Post #0172: The Trip (Arthur)
How did she transport-?

"Alright, that's all. If you can just extract the venom then I'll get us to Nowhere as fast as possible."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0173: The Trip (Arthur)
Penny bites Arthur. The flush feeling recedes rapidly, and the ringing sound seems to follow it, leaving him sitting in the car in stark silence.

[Heim]

Post #0174: The Trip (Arthur)
Arthur stretches his limbs to the extent possible within the car. Concern follows him, accompanied by quite a bit of trepidation. Yet, there was a pleasantness to his interaction with Penny and Hebi, and he urges that feeling to stay with him as he turns the key and continues back down the road to Nowhere.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0175: The Trip (Arthur)
The last leg of the trip is strangely relaxing. Arthur steers the coupe out of the mountains and into some rolling foothills, as he feels the road flow smoothly past, images rushing through the rear- and side-view mirrors. Strangely carefree, Arthur also notes a slightly cottony feeling on his lips and spends a few minutes re-familiarizing his tongue with the inside of his mouth.

Intellect test, target 6, result 6.

Although mildly confused, Arthur manages to keep himself together. He concludes that these strange sensations are a side-effect of the treatment Penny administered. While they are distracting, they don’t seem to meaningfully impact his ability to drive. At least not on rural roads with no other cars nearby.

By and by, Arthur finds himself out of the foothills the asphalt runs out, becoming a gravel road. Thick fog makes navigating difficult, but Arthur reminds himself that the road only goes one place; into the town of Nowhere. He presses ahead, but is forced to drive quite slowly due to the fog, which limits his visibility to only about ten yards.

The dashboard clock reads 11:30 p.m. when the fog suddenly vomits forth a two-story house, along with the one-story addition that abuts it, off to the right of the road. With the aid of the coupe’s headlights, Arthur can barely make out a sign that reads “Trading Post” above the door on the right side of a wide, low front porch. Further off to the right, a shirtless man carries an armful of firewood over to a large wooden handcart that sits in the middle of the empty parking lot in front of the trading post.

[Heim]

Post #0176: The Village (Arthur)
The man and his task strike Arthur as strange for this time of night, but he is at least thankful to have someone who can direct him at such an hour, since he doesn't feel inclined to go to sleep immediately. Already having organized his things he simply pulls into an empty parking space, withdraws the key, and grabs both bag and torch. Then, before fully exiting the car, he calls out to Hebi and Penny.

"I'm going to talk to that person, then wander around for a brief period and maybe even find us a place to stay. Would you two prefer to join me?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0177: The Village (Arthur)
Penny slithers out of the car and into the darkness; as she passes, Arthur gets an impression of worried caution. Meanwhile, Hebi heads directly under the coupe after exiting.

[Heim]

Post #0178: The Village (Arthur)
Concern bubbles to the forefront yet again. Assuming (hoping) that the stranger has not yet noticed him through the fog, Arthur quietly locks the car and sinks to his knees. The ground is cold, and he speaks in something close to, but not quite, a whisper.

"Hold on, is something wrong? Please bite me so that we can communicate."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0179: The Village (Arthur)
Hebi bites Arthur. As he does, Arthur notes that his fangs are about twice as long as Penny’s. The inside of his mouth looks like something that belongs in a Hollywood alien movie, pinkish white, slick and soft, but alarmingly large, jaws like an open book on a table.

The effect is different, too. Arthur feels like a football linebacker just bowled him over, and it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s still on his knees beside the car. A fever and a chill wash over him at the same time.

“Penny thinks we’re in bad shape. I gotta say, I agree. The bad energy from the lake seems to be everywhere, like the lake has seeped beneath all these houses. F@%k, we’re f@%ked. I can protect you a bit by hiding on your person, like inside your shirt. No one will notice, not even you, it’s all a bit of magic. But I don’t feel like me biting someone that’s taking a swing at you is really going to save you. Not from whatever is going wrong here. If it were me…I mean, if you were Pulse…I mean…f@%k…I think you should get back in that car and leave.”

As if on cue, the high-pitched ringing noise begins again.

[Heim]

Post #0180: The Village (Arthur)
"Agh... Rgh!"

Stay calm.

Fear at what Hebi has just said is undeniably present, but it's dulled by a mixture of ringing and physical malfeasance. It takes a moment, and a notable amount of energy, but Arthur eventually assembles his priorities. This time, he's whispering.

"That sounds horrible, but turning back now seems counter productive. I... first, can you lead me to Penny? Or maybe we can still communicate at this distance. At any rate, I have business here that I can't abandon quite yet, and if things really are that bad then we should focus on getting a picture of what we are dealing with here. We also shouldn't separate if we can help it, unless there is a good reason. (Sigh) What do you think we should do?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0181: The Village (Arthur)
“Penny’s under the porch. We can talk when she’s close, but she’s scouting. I said what I thought you should do; staying here is dangerous. This guy is about to overhear you, fyi.”

[Heim]

Post #0182: The Village (Arthur)
Arthur is startled for a fraction of a second, before he unzips his jacket and urges Hebi under his shirt.

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0183: The Village (Arthur)
Hebi disappears inside the shirt, only briefly brushing against Arthur’s skin before vanishing into shadow. The shirtless man grunts slightly as he dumps an armful of split hardwood into the cart, which is nearly full, on the other side of Arthur’s car.

“Hey there,” the man says. “Whatchya up to?”

Arthur feels a bit unsteady on his feet as he rises; Hebi’s bite mark, on his left hand, feels like it’s on fire.

[Heim]

Post #0184: The Village (Arthur)
"Just getting out of my car. Do you know if there's anywhere I can stay the night? I would've liked to arrive earlier, but the bad weather and debris from the storm made sure that wasn't going to happen. Ah, also, am I allowed to park here, or will nobody mind?"

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0185: The Village (Arthur)
“Nobody gonna care where you stay, they’re all down at the party,” the man says. “Park wherever you want, stay wherever you want, no big deal. Gonna grab some peanuts.”

Arthur takes a good look at him and sees that he’s a large, muscular man, no sign of body hair above the waist, with a clean, functional crew cut of light brown hair. The man turns and walks into the shop. Arthur notices that the whole area has the smell of burning wood about it, but it would be hard to notice any smoke due to the exceptionally thick fog. He also sees some remnants of hailstones or frozen rain gathered beneath the eaves of the porch.

[Heim]

Post #0186: The Village (Arthur)
Arthur exhales in relief, but the loss of oxygen leads him to become light headed, and he gasps while attempting to breath in more. In his earlier rush, he'd not fully imagined what the consequences of taking in Hebi's venom might be, he certainly hadn't prepared himself for the shock.

Party...

The man was probably getting wood for a bonfire. He'd have to think about that later though, his first priority is getting Penny's opinion on the state of things, given Hebi's worried assessment, and having a discussion with the two of them. There was also the issue that, if he kept it inside him for very long, Hebi's venom seemed like it would cause serious issues in the long AND short term. He returns to whispering.

"Please lead me to Penny, or call her to me. I want to... communicate, and I don't think it's sustainable for me to use your venom."

[Phelix-Mu]

Post #0187: The Village (Arthur)
Arthur feels nip on his ankle. Within a few moments, he feels a warm surge of feeling spread across his body, chasing away the agonizing chills and fever caused by Hebi’s venom. His mouth feels strangely cottony again and the problems surrounding him seem distant and trivial, though his left hand is still slightly numb.

“Well, that confirms that humans are significantly more susceptible to viper venom than oni, *wink*” Penny’s thoughts suddenly intrude in Arthur’s medicated euphoria. “The good news is our treatments for venom seem to work fine and only produce mild intoxication.”

Arthur hears the sound of containers being moved around and opened inside the trading post. The shirtless man seems to be loudly humming to himself. Now less flushed, Arthur feels the chill of the night air about him.