Possession

[Yui-chan]

The Huntress nods to Celes, her eyes thoughtful. Yes, it was a very plausible explanation, indeed, for in every other room, the thief had been very careful not to displace items. He, she or it must have something of a temper to react so strongly to a few cat scratches. She smiles gently, looking at the feline huddled into Lady Celes' arms.

 

"Pretty Carbone may well have saved herself from a stint with our mysterious thief," she says, raising her hand slowly so as not to alarm the lovely creature as she strokes her gently. The cat sits tensely for a moment, but then relaxes a bit under Yui's gentle hand, earning a brighter smile from both of the ladies.

 

Celes looks at Yui, her smile dying quickly. "Do you think will the thief hurts my Cambronne?"

 

The Huntress meets her eyes, moving her hand to rest on the Frenchie's shoulder. "We will do our best to see to it that your Cambronne is not harmed, Celes. I do not think that our thief is out to harm what her or she has taken... " Her eyes go distant, thoughtful again, and she mumbles an ending to her words, her thoughts leaping ahead. "No, it seems our thief isn't that simple..."

 

A frown slowly erases her smile as she considers the situation. The thief knew of each of their most valued possessions and obviously knew the compound well. Very few creatures could escape a magic-imbued Huntress, yet she'd found no signs of tracks or magical residues anywhere on the grounds. Even the trees spoke of nothing more than the usual birds and a hawk spiraling high overhead. No, two clues had been found outside, she knew, but otherwise it seemed as though the thief had not been here, had not tried to escape -- With a start, Yui froze, then her eyes went wide. Of course!

 

She gave Celes' and Carbone a parting glance, then turned and rushed back into the main Hall, leaving the lady and her little cat to blink at each other in puzzlement.

[Ozymandias]

Orlan strolled nonchalantly down the halls, humming the Imperial March. He was feeling quite devious today- as sneaky and underhanded as he hadn't had the opportunity to feel for a long, long time. It felt good.

 

Got to keep the ol' sneak muscles in good shape. I'd hate to see any part of this Man's sexy, sexy repertoire waste away. Almost as much as the groupies would. He grinned a little wider, and started snapping his fingers in time as he added a bit more funk to the beat.

 

 

 

It is a little known fact on Terra, or anywhere for that matter, that over two-thirds of the multiverse's original makeup exists outside the multiverse. This can be problematic to explain as, by defintion the multiverse encompasses everything, so bear with for now. This cosmic stuff- lost ideas, forgotten gods, half-formed concepts, dreams, and the like all exist in their natural form in this place outside all reality.

 

Now, what is much more widely known is that reality, while more resilient than almost anything, can be pushed too hard. It is in those places and times that these lost things congregate, and try to get back through.

They are horribly efficient at it. They can detect such weak points with a magnitude of sensitivity that when compared to a shark tracking blood, the shark's senes are as elementary as noticing a nuclear bomb has just gone off about five feet away.

 

By that same token, they hunger for reality an uncountable number of levels greater than a shark's thirst for blood.

 

 

Orlan passed Simon and Lewis' quarters and had to pause. His manly nose detected very familiar female pheromones.

 

Strange, he mused as he continued on, I don't remember putting her in there ...

[Guest Lord Seth Exodus]

Seth reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a silver handkerchief embroidered with intracit gold and silver threads. He reached up and mopped the sweat from his brow; even in the shade of the oak, under which he stood, the heat of the day still took it's toll.

Even in this scorching heat Seth had a longing for a good long smoke, and a tall glass of iced-tea; one of these he could attain post haste. He dipped his hand into his lower, left vest pocket and withdrew a silver bowled pipe, with a black stem. After filling the bowl with his rich, imported tobacco, he pats himself, looking for a match. He finds a small box in his trouser pocket, with but one single match. Striking it he holds it up to the bowl, but a small gust of wind extinguishes the flame, and Seth curses, throwing the blackened stick to the ground. He replaces the tobacco in it's pouch and stands content to merely chew on the pipe stem.

 

The crowd about him churns slowly, and still no one steps forward to speak. He emmits a grunt of impatiance and then swiftly strides off to think on his own. He passes through the tavern, and down the long corridor leading to his chambers. Mounting the stone steps to his tower he violently thrusts open his great, oaken door. At the bar he fingers through the array of bottles lining the back counter. First the Chardonay, then the Port, finally resting on the Whisky; not his usual pleasure. Filling his glass with ice, he pours liberally, and drinks deep. Beads of sweat form on his brow the moment the liquid touches his toungue, and he sqweaks deep in his throat, surpressing a violent cough. shaking his head he refills his glass and makes his way to his favorite lounging chair, infront of the fire.

Placing his drink on the small wooden table at his elbow he walks over and pickes up his violin. He brings the instrument to his chin and lays the bow across it's strings; making a soft note, as he positions himself. He softly starts into the "Hail of The Mountian King", gradually increasing his volume as he approached the heart of the piece. In his head he hears the full orchestra playing along with him, cymbals and all. This haunting, harsh, and strangly enigmatic melody drifts through the halls of The Keep, from one to another. Some of the other musicians throw a starp glare in the direction of Seth's tower, as he has managed to safe guard his instrument, as they have all fallen victim to this thief.

 

As he plays, his mind races with uncountable thoughts. These are, however, interupted as Seth applys all his thought and energy as he announces the climax, and finish of the peice; pounding out the last sticatode notes and ending in a haunting chord. Collapsing into the armchair agan, he lets the lets the violing and bow hang limply, to either side, from his hands. Slowly bring the intrument to rest on the table, Seth examins it. The strings are hot to the touch, and a number of the dellicate horsehair strands of the bow hang severed. A smile creases his face as he sips again at his drink. Letting out a long satisfied sigh, and expressing: "I needed that."

 

Returning to his thoughts, as before, he turns over a number of hypothesis. "Who ever did this was told us a few things about himself, from his deeds," Seth thought aloud, as he thoughtfully turned his tumbler glass in his hand, gazing into the dark, golden liquid. "He must have a good knowledge of The Keep, and everyone in it. He knows what we all prized, and, logically, he coveted them; otherwise, why would he take them? He is slight of hand, and of foot, or someone would have caught him by now; incredibly so if he can elude Yui." Here Seth stood up and paced about the room. "He must also posess great strength, if he can steal bhurin's grand piano. The question with that is: how did he get it down from the clock tower? Unless..."

 

Seth, like a bolt, shoots down the stairs of the tower; almost tripping and doing the rest of the trip on his face, on two occasions. Reaching the bottom he takes off down the corridor, "Bhurin!.....Bhurin!....BHURIN!!!!" Shouting at the top of his lungs he races around The Keep looking for his friend. "He's a giant bird man, how hard could he be to find?" He thought to himself as he raced to and fro.

 

[OOC: Bhurin, work with me on this one.]

[Guest Minta Rose]

Rydia opened the door to Minta and Rosemary's room before Tzimfemme had time to knock. Rosemary stood at the opposite end of the room, inspecting the sprawling mural of inlaid eyes and daubing blood here and there on certain open irises. The other two kept to Minta's end of the room, glancing nervously at the madwoman from time to time.

 

Pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders, Rydia confided, "I think I might be responsible for Minta's running away. . .I kinda, maybe, sorta told her that there were pixie-sticks available. . .Over There." She nodded her head, and a nebulous white portal collected on the floor--her version of the gateway.

 

Tzimfemme rolled her eyes. "I don't think--"

 

"I'm sure of it!" blurted Rydia, looking quite guilty. "Don't worry though, I'll go get her back quickly! She won't have time to get scared!" With two swift steps and eyes shut tightly, she dropped into the powdery portal.

 

"Like I was saying," Tzimfemme restated, watching the gateway fall into itself and diminish to nothing, "I don't think that Minta ran off, considering how many other things are missing." She ran her eyes around the room and startled upon seeing the blood-symbol--one clear clockwise spiral and indefinite additional flecks. It meant something. She'd seen that before, gouged into the crypt walls.

 

"Are those marking. . .um. . .locations? People?" ventured Tzimfemme. Rosemary didn't reply verbally, yet Tzimfemme felt a definite psychic itch, like tasting mistletoe--like the times Rosemary's powers had backfired and her thoughts bubbled out of other people's minds. Rogue personae, or acquaintances that felt too familiar, left that taste. Whoever'd passed through had (at least in her quarters) known her well enough to mask its passing with her own tracks.

 

Rosemary finished plotting upon the spiral of eyes. In total there were six counter-clockwise streaks, and a tight single clockwise spiral, daubed in blood. She licked her fingers clean, then stepped back and studied the design. "She who is quick in the dark, she is closest to me, she was stolen emotionally, to twist me. Who took her? Someone who wants to get closer to me, become me. Look around," she ordered Tzimfemme in passing, snatching a pixy stix from the bedside table for bait, "you'll find that no one else lacks the living." With a disdainful kick from the heel she opened the door, ankle bells jingling, and paraded down the hallways. Her eyes unfocused and her hands began to twitch, parting the threads of souls' passing, invisible to the naked eye.

 

Tzimfemme bit her lip in thought, then shrugged it off and followed Rosemary, heading back to the common room.

[Guest Lord Seth Exodus]

The loud thuds of Seth's leather shoes landing hard on the stone floor as he ran, echoed through the halls of the Keep. Seth skidded around a corner at top speed, kicking up the rug behind him. "BHURIN!..." he shouted loudly.

 

Rounding another corner, Seth carened straight into his great, winged friend. Bouncing off Bhurin's solid chest, the frail form of Seth Exodus falls hard on the floor. "Whoa! Seth, what is all the commotion for?" Bhurin asks as he picks his friend up off the floor.

"Theif...*gasp*... piano...*pant pant*... think I know who...*wheeze!*... need to spend more time at gym...*cough! wheeze* Seth stood doubled over, breathing hard as Bhurin tried to make sense of the jibberish he was spewing. "Wait...*pant*" said Seth as he motioned for Bhurin to lean closer. Reaching up he put a hand past Bhurin's shoulder.

"YEEEAOOOWWW!!!!!" Bhurin jumped back and gripped a now bare patch on his left wing. Befor him stood Seth with a hand full of featers, vigorously fanning himself. After a time of this he stood up straight, fully composed again.

"Thank you, my friend. Ummm... you can put these back on, right?" he said as Bhurin snatched up his feathers with a disatisfied grunt. "Anyway, as I was trying to say: I have an idea of how to find out who this thief is."

"Well, that's good, how?" Bhurin looked less than convinced as he doctored his ravaged wing.

 

Seth stood looking blankly off into space for a few moments. "You know, I don't remember anymore. Ha! How about that. Isn't that funny, I totally forget." Seth tried to hide the embarassment appearing on his face. "Perhaps a little air would help me think," Seth suggested as he turned towards Bhurin. "Could you stand there and flap for a bit; you know, stir up some air?"

Bhurin's face sank with a rather less than impressed look upon it. "Air. You want air? I'll give you air!" Bhurin grabbed Seth roughly by his collar and marched over to the nearest window. Taking a pitchers stance he drew back his arm, and Seth in it. Giving a great heave he threw Seth through the window. "Have all the air you want! Breath deep, my friend!" He called after Seth as he sailed high into the air, and then made a falling arch into the garden.

 

Moments later Seth found himself hanging upside down in an apple tree in the garden. "Hmm, food might help as well," he said as he plucked one of the suculent, red apples and began to munch. "I wonder what's wrong with Bhurin."

 

(OOC: Truth be told, this is just because I truly did forget where i was going with my last post. But, here's you'r cushion Minta. If I played you too much, Bhurin, I'm sorry, I tried not to.)

[Guest Elrohir31]

Elrohir moved cautiously through Peredhil's suite of rooms. Spell after spell, some of incredible subtlety, came back void.

 

"This had to have been an inside job. A joke gone astray?"

 

He scratched some runes on the chockboard, and left to find his father's Bodyguards after Locking the Apartment.

[Guest Guido31]

Guido and Nuncio stood in the garden gazing up at Seth.

 

"Youse t'ink he WANTS to be hanging in the apple tree?"

 

"The ways of Magi are mysterious and inscrutable."

 

"Riiiight."

 

The Guinea Pigs moved on, listening to the others, searching for clues.

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Celes walks back in the café with her Carbone, who starts to wriggle in her arms. She let the little female cat on its paw and sits back at a table. She then looks at a mirror that hangs on one of the walls, in lieu of the dissapeared works. She remembers something that Jakob told her. She tryies to scrye over Cambronne's presence but she is only able to hear blurred voices.

 

- "Oooo... This place is BORING!", says a voice that could easily be identified as Minta's, "At least there's that big kitty cat!"

 

Celes heards the meows of that ressembles of her cat's and then she heards steps... probably Minta is trying to catch him. Then, nothing comes out of it.

 

- "At least, Cambronne and Minta are allright", sights the Frenchie

[Ozymandias]

Ozymandias strode purposefully across the grounds. The grass crunching underneath his feet , and scuff of his sandals against the soil were the only sounds he made. The relative brightness of the afternoon brought out the stark contrast his normally dusk blue robes, now black, created. A careful observer would see tiny points of light shine randomly across the fabric. His jaw was set, eyes unblinking as he made his way to the garden. Passing the apple trees on his way to the pond, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Seth thoughtfully chewing an apple, hanging upside down. The poor man's face was as bright red as his snack by now.

 

Without turning, Ozymandias gestured in the other man's direction and said, simply, "Come." Lord Seth Exodus shivered despite himself. When the old Egyptian had passed, it felt as though the forest's temperature had dropped below freezing, if only for a moment. Before he could reply, the shade of the apple trees suddenly unfolded long, spindly arms with spidery, grasping fingers that firmly clutched him about the middle with one hand and carefully unsnagged his clothing with the other. Upon being flipped right side up and set gently down by his ethereal rescuer, Seth stared after Ozymandias, brushing absently at his clothes.

 

"Wait!", he called suddenly, and broke into a jog after his fleeting compatriot.

 

 

(Oz's note:

Our story has branched off, much to my happy surprise. Check out Conversations in the Cabaret Room.)

[Guest Minta Rose]

Tzimfemme rapped on the door of Valdar's room, as per instructions. No answer. She moved to Astralis's chambers and repeated the knock. A mechanoid, a mishmash of paired rotary telephones and pencil sharpener, skittered down the doorframe and announced, "Astralis is *beep* unavailable at this time *beepbeep*" (it turned and cleaned its fiber-optic antennae in time with the beeps, polishing its faceted eyes with pencil shavings) "please dial one to leave a message, two to activate Astralis Tracking System, star to return to main menu." She dialed. The main menu, as she had suspected, had tracking systems for all of Valdar's direction-less multiples. A few long distance calls confirmed that none of his personae were missing.

 

Four hallways and fifty-seven stairs (descending--gods be praised that there was that intense updraft from this floor, a much kinder way to ascend) later, she found the warning placards of Signe's dungeons. Again Tzimfemme knocked, inquired, and was satisfied. She leaped into the updraft and raced to the Dreamer's quarters--still properly warded. Little Morgane passed her in the corridor, begging "Can I have a feather?", as Tzimfemme tallied up on her fingers. Those were all the known multiple personae accounted for, except hers. All of hers? How many of hers, did she have one she didn't know about, had she created a malevolent--

 

Enough of the damn delusions already, you're not Rosemary, and for good reason!

 

Tzimfemme bit down on her lip and continued. Of her personae, and there WERE only four:

 

Herself.

Rosemary. Not likely. While her motives could be darn near anything, she liked to carry all important items on her person, and there just wasn't room for all the stolen items.

Rydia. No shinies were gone.

Minta. Missing, oddly. It was hard enough to put her to bed, let alone transport her, against her will. . .Unprincipled. . .Impulsive. . .Dammit.

[Peredhil]

Peredhil regretted having left the Pen Manors before the thief had been found, but his newly found commitments had summoned.

It was with quite some surprise he'd found himself drawn back to the lands of Ager Guild in the neverending Magewars. Even more surprising was finding in this time and place, he was a member of the Angels of Apocalypse.

Although he remained earthbound, he was deeply moved by the grace and beauty of their aireal ballet. That so many could move in such coordination fascinated him to no end. Even the chocolate-stained mouths held a certain charming contrast with the blood-stained hands.

 

As he prepared to buckled down to imprinting once again this sphere's unique magical manifestations, 'researching the spells', he stopped and turned to Elladan, ever his Warlord and General.

 

"'Dan, with an active guild to back me, there's no need for you to try to run your armies while I research. Why don't you go back and help at the Pen?"

Elladan raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Dad, I may finally get to Attack someone. You aren't just trying to get rid of me, are you?"

"No no! Seriously, there was a bit of disturbance back there when I left. I didn't even have a chance to check our things before I came here - Wench was MOST impatient in her summons."

Elladan considered his father carefully. For Elrond to claim a bit of disturbance was the same as someone else running in circles and pulling their hair out. This might be a chance to do a bit of constructive fishing in the gene pool. Piously he considered how he could contribute to future generations by culling the present ones.

He stiffened and then relaxed with a dangerous glint in his eyes as a thought struck him.

"Someone's been in our rooms?"

"Possibly. I'm not that concerned, Eru knows I've learned to travel lightly!"

Elladan bowed gracefully as he took his leave.

"Have fun researching. Let me know when you're done. I have some Mage Sauce ideas for the next BBQ."

[Ozymandias]

As Lady Celes' mirror's magic waned, a fading voice could be heard-

 

"Now then, my darling kiddie and plump kitty, let's play a little game, shall we?"

 

It was male, cajoling, singsong, and laced with quiet menace. An answering, "Don't wanna..." slipped out before the last syllable dissolved to nothing.

 

 

Minutes earlier, Tzimfemme came to a staircase and sat down with a thud. So lost in thought was she, that she took Lobotomy into her hand and began tossing it into the air. Two things happened then: One, her sharp eyes spotted a small rectangular object flutter down to the stair next to her when she threw her flail. Second, two halves of a moment later she received a very abrupt and violent message from the flame- FEAR.

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Celes' eyes blinks when she heards the male voice. She wasn't sure of how familiar it sounds but from what she understand from Minta's answer, he's scary enough to cut her enthousiams short.

 

- "Oh my!", she says to herself, "This is NOT good. They are in danger, that's for sure!"

 

She runs over Peredhil and grabs one of his sleeves. Panic definatly started to make its work again.

 

- "We have to do something!", cries Celes, "He'll do something nasty to them!"

 

The surprised Polite Mage blinks and manage to remain as composed as possible.

 

- "Are you positive fo what you're saying?", he manage to ask

 

- "Of course I am!", she replies aggressively, "He told Minta and Cambronne that he was about to play a little game!. Minta replied that she don't want to. She seems to be scared. They are in danger! We can't sit around and wait. We have to do something!"

 

- "Calm down", pleads Peredhil, "Its no use to be mad about this."

 

He manages to free himself from the Frenchie's grip and replaces his clothing.

 

- "Tell me," resumes the Polite Ancient, "How did you manage to heard this?"

 

- "Simple", replies the Lady, "I've casted scrying mirror on Cambronne's aura."

 

- "Can you do that again?"

 

- "I'll try, but I can't guaranteed that we'll see anything."

 

Celes goes back to the Mirror and concentrates again. She recasted her Scrying Mirror and focuses on Cambronne's aura. She can feel the fear he's experimenting. Some voices can be heard, becoming clearer and clearer....

 

((Its up to Ozy to continue from that part))

[Peredhil]

Peredhil mused briefly on the idea of a frightened Minta. What in the world could frighten that child? Checking briefly through his pockets, he ensured he had a Summon Zombie scroll as well as his Summon Catnip. They'd need some soothing once rescued.

 

He continued to peer over Lady Celes' shoulder as she scried, noting absently that Nuncio had taken his spot at his shoulder.

 

Turning to acknowledge Nuncio, he was taken back at his drooping whiskers.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Boss, there's a little problem..."

 

"Oh. Should we have a family conference then?"

 

"Well, Guido is in the Cabaret talking to Guido the Bartender, and Elrohir is off searching the roof for some reason."

 

"And Elladan?"

 

"Funniest thing. I passed him in the hallway when I sensed you'd arrived. He DIDN'T have a smile, and was carrying a large can of paint thinner."

 

They looked at each other as they considered what Guido had just said. Guido broke into a run for the door.

 

Peredhil paused a moment to bow to Lady Celes Crusader, and then moved swiftly afterward.

 

An unsmiling Elladan was a Bad Thing.

 

Paint Thinner! What did he think Zool had done?

[Jakob]

"Meep..."

 

 

 

 

"Meep..."

 

 

 

 

"Bubble, bubble, toil, and trouble...

Into space and play with Hubble..."

 

The securely confined Jakob begins to become aware of his surroundings as Tzifemme's potent sedative begins to wear off...

 

"Owwwwwwwww! Damn, my head hurts..."

 

Muttering a cantrip under his breath, he sheds his restraints and takes a quick inventory of his surroundings...

 

"Hrmm. Dip, chips, chains, and whips... Crap! I'm in one of Tzifemme's labs...."

 

He qiuckly checks himself for those nasty little telltales of Tzifemme's attentions and shakes the chocolate crumbs from his hair and beard...

 

"Odd... Clarity of thought and profound insight have returned... My Staff! It's Close..."

 

Jakob grabs the nearest weapon-looking item he can find... (a strange metal stick with a rubber handle and a small leather flap at one end...) and dashes into the hall in search of his stolen staff...

[Ozymandias]

"DON'T WANNA!", shrilled a child's voice. One the assembled three recognized immediately. Followed by total silence. Long seconds ticked by, until finally Nuncio let go the breath he had been unaware he was holding.

Then, from the mirror came...laughter. Full-throated and utterly alien to all ears.

 

"HehehehehehaHaHaHAHAHAA... Naughty, naughty, little ones. Mustn't peek in on daddy's business. NOW OFF TO BED WITH YOU!"

 

And the mirror spoke no more. Celes tried to reactivate it with a desperate will, but it would not respond.

[Guest Lord Seth Exodus]

Seth, a little unsteady on his feet from all the blood that had rushed to his head, stumbled after Ozy. He brushed off, and readjusted his attire, "Ye gads! I'm wrinckled; curses!" He slipped off his glasses and held them up. "Scratched! Blast!" he threw them down in frusteration, and reached into his waist-coat, pulling out a new pair, and fitting them on his face.

"I say, Ozy, you look determined. Do you know who's afoot with these robberies?" Ozymandias strode forward unspeaking, and stern. Seth followed quietly after him. As he walked on he massaged his right hand, still gropping in the absence in of his cane.

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Celes give up reactivating the mirror. She knows that whoever he his, he's a very powerful mage and that he's aware that she tried to find out about him. Her eyes looks distant and she sighs heavily. She tries to hold back her tears but she's fails. In a violent swing of rage she hits a nearby table with her fist.

 

- "I CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN!", she cries out, "I WONT LET HIM TO HURT THEM!"

 

Then, she sits down and sobs, burying her face in her hands.

 

- "But, what can I do?", she says with her muffled voice, "I've tried to find them, but I've failed!"

 

Anyone in the Café are saddened by her despair. They all know how much Cambronne means to her and they somehow felt as powerless as her.

[Guest Elrohir31]

Elrohir puffed slightly as he topped the stairs to the top of the Pen's Keep. "This joint needs an elevator," he thought ruefully as he scanned the roof.

 

He identified Orlan and started toward him, then stopped stunned.

 

That Rapier was a whole lotta Fallen Angel!

 

Long moments passes as he let his eyes drink their fill. Some charisma and beauties transcended ALL species.

 

With a determined shake of his head, he continued on his path.

 

"Elder Orlan..."

 

His sensitive ears noting the loud music coming from the earphones, he waited for a reply.

 

"Elder ORLAN!" Orlan was either ignoring him or lost in his deep meditations. Was that an "Oooommmm" or a snore coming from lips permanently twisted in a sensually cruel sn

 

Rapier, realizing that this young Half-Elf wasn't going away, reached over with one of her wings and nudged Orlan gently.

 

Orlan roused with a start.

 

"WHAT?" Elrohir, with the highly honed combat reflexes of a well-trained Ranger, leapt three feet into the air and squeaked nervously. For some reason, Orlan had always terrified him slightly. Orlan reminded him of old Fangorn somehow, power lieing in slumber, dangerous to arouse.

 

Seeing Elrohir, Orlan stretched with lazy power and lifted the earphones.

 

"Yesssss?" The annoyed hiss was ALMOST an invitation, "First the frantic lizard and now one of the children." Elrohir's automatic rejoinder was cut off with a wave. "Yeah yeah, I know you're several thousand years old, but...

"Anyway, why are you interrupting my Sunray?" He absently allowed Rapier to refresh the tanning oils on his back as he prepared to pretend to listen.

 

"There is either a thief or a practical joker here at the Pen. Either way, they went too far and stole something they shouldn't have stolen." Noting Orlan making small winding motions with his finger, he sped up. "I think that Elladan suspects Ancient Zool is somehow involved."

 

Elrohir stood waiting expectantly.

 

"So?" At the way Orlan was rubbing the oils on to the Fallen Dominion, Elrohir turned to look out over the parapet, blushing. He'd seen plenty in his travels, but... really!

 

Rapier leaned forward and pressed her hot slick body into Orlan's chest, whispering into his ear.

 

"Isn't Zool supposed to be your biatch boy?" She paused as Orlan slowly sat erect. "I think that's what the child saying..."

[Yui-chan]

Sunlight streamed through the windows into the Great Hall, glancing off gold and silver portrait frames and illuminating the painted faces adorning the wall. Jewelled garments, rich silks, and soft furs became so clearly defined that it seemed as if one could reach out to the textured canvas and feel, instead, the realities of the great Archmagi of the past. But the men and women envisioned in the many portraits were from Ages long ago consumed, Terras foreign to the world of today. The portraits were the past, save for one...

 

Yui hurried through the grand space, her gaze fixed on the one painting that was unique among all the others. The once-Elder with the rubber chicken stood as he always did, his leather suit and goofy grin painted in painstaking detail, the slight, kooky madness sparkling in his pigment eyes. Behind him, the ruins of a Terran fortress loomed, an ominous contrast to the lighthearted nature of the Ancient of Elders.

 

It seemed as if he was unaware, gone still as he sometimes did when he stopped paying attention to the world beyond his canvas. As the Huntress halted before him, however, a hint of motion betrayed his ruse. Her eyes narrowed slightly as a drop of acrylic sweat on his brow slowly dripped down to dangle from the tip of his pointed nose.

 

"Ancient Zool." He tried to stay portrait-still, steady under the sharp edge of her grey-green eyes, but he felt himself weakening. "Zool-sama, I know you are aware, and I know you hear me. Come, what are you nervous about? Talk to me."

 

With a whoosh of released breath, his resolve crumbled, and the living painting's shoulders slumped. "Alright, alright. But I didn't do it!" he burst out.

 

Yui-chan raised a brow, watching the overly-nervous Ancient. "As much as you like a good laugh, you're not much of a prankster, Zool. I believe you didn't. However, I also believe that your painting has something to do with this..." As he watched, her eyes left his face to fix on something in the painting behind him. "... since it looks as if Gyrfalcon's amulet has been painted into the background."

 

The Elder jumped and turned around, straining to see that 'mysterious gleam' he'd noticed before at the base of one of the Fortress's broken walls. Surely enough, there it was, laying as if dropped on the rubble. He swallowed a lump and turned back to the young woman standing outside of the painting, but as he opened his mouth to defend himself, her attention was attracted by something out of his line of sight. The Ancient froze again as he heard booted feet approaching.

 

"Good day, Master Elledan. What can I do for you?" she asked.

 

The Zool's eyes widened as he watched the Peredhil's son step into view, a large jar in his hands marked 'Paint Thinner'. At the look on the younger half-elf's face, sweat started dripping from his two-dimensional chin.

[Ozymandias]

Ozymandias stopped in midstride, shoulders drooping.

 

"I don't know, Seth. They took my dogs." His robe twinkled silently, and a breeze started to blow. "I don't know, but they're a spiteful lot, whoever they are." He stood there, looking both angry and sad, staring ahead at nothing.

 

Seth looked for words but found only, "I'm sorry." Straightening himself up with more confidence than he was perhaps feeling (he wasn't totally sure), he clasped Ozymandias' shoulder firmly. "We'll get the bastard. There's no way he can escape. Not with our resources." The other man stood a little taller himself, and with a nod said, "You're right. This is no time to fold." He set off at a brisk pace again, waving Seth forward. "This way. I saw several others heading for the pond earlier. I think we can still catch them." As they walked, Ozymandias' robe slowly lit from black to its' accustomed shade of blue.

 

Meanwhile, Jakob sprinted doggedly onward, feeling a tugging toward the Cabaret. His senses were cooperating more and more often now. He only neglected down and up once, and ran through only one wall before remembering physics. He heard alarm klaxons wailing across the closing distance, and part of him wondered at it. Other parts, however, started wailing along with them. "Aoohga! Aoogha! Aoogha! Aoogha!", he shouted in spite of himself. Blissfully unknowing visitors looked up in alarm at the running man who was armed with a metal bar and yelling in a chorus of voices.

 

Elsewhere, Tzimfemme looked down at the fallen object. It was a playing card. A Joker. Across its front, in badly smeared ink was written only this-

 

HA.

 

In the Tavern of the Quill, chaos tightened its grip.

[Orlan]

Orlan looked into the sun. It was not as bright as it would have been had he not been wearing the TMoT Shades. He turned back down and looked at Elrohir.

 

"I still don't see what this has to do with me." Orlanwaved Rapier back to her blanket and went back to lying on his. Elrohir moved a little closer to the Sexy Sexy Man.

 

"But, if Zool is your Biach Boy, shouldn't you get involved if Zool is involved?" Orlan took off his shades and gave Elrohir a look that made the half-elf want to find a very deep hole and hibernate.

 

"Lemme ask you this, is your father involved in ever little nuance that you are involved in?" Orlan said adding to the question by shaking his shades at the half-elf.

 

"Wel no, but-" Elrohir began.

 

"No buts. Any answer and any logic you go to at this time is both irrevelent and unexamined. Not to mention ill-informed..." Orlan said the last with a slight sigh.

 

"What do you mean ill-informed?" Elrohir said, realizing too late that Orlan was becoming irritated. The Sexy Sexy Man came to his feet with a grunt. With the slope of the roof as it was, Orlan towered over Elrohir. Not only that, but there seemed to be an aura seeping out of the edges of The Sexy Sexy Man. Orlan leaned down at Elrohir.

 

"Ill-informed. In possession of less then adequate information. Not awarre of everything. Kept in the dark. Unknowing. The IRS about my taxes. Take your pick. You seem to Miss Information's prize pupil right now..."

 

"But-" Elrohir began.

 

"But, but, but, but, but, but! Enough buts. You came here because you are trying to find out about the thefts. If you want to know about them, inform yourself about!" Orlan's voice was slightly harsh.

 

"But-" Elrohir began once again.

 

"No more buts! Are you 3 or 3 thousand?!" Orlan almost shouted.

 

"But-" Elrohir said completely as a reactionary thought. A very bad thought.

 

The light suddenly vanished. There was nothing but a cold darkness in that instant. The same instant brought successive bolts of lightning down before Elrohir. His entire body screamed at the pure and unrelenting evil that flowed around him right now. Orlan was drowning him in that evil.

 

"NO BUTS! NOW GO!" Orlan said this time. He did not yell it persay, but his voice was magnified over on itself millions of millions of times. Elrohir fled at full speed. The moment he was off the roof the sunlight came back and Orlan let out a sputter of annoyance.

 

"We I come from we call that excessive," Rapier said without looking up from her book, "The common cure for insomnia" by Kendricke the White. Orlan shook his head and gazed off after where the half-elf ran.

 

"Eh sometimes I need to remind the Pen that Evil Incarnate dosen't like constant annoyances." Orlan said. "Besides the climax is almost at it's peak. This'll end soon, everyone will be shocked and surprised. Things will go on and on and on. However..." Orlan said, avoiding the use of the word 'but'. The Sexy Sexy Man walked back to his towel and lay back down.

 

"My tanning time dosen't come around often enough."

 

"No rest for the wicked, Sir?" Rapier asked.

 

"Not really. More like no uninterrupted tanning for the True Evil Incarnate." Orlan sighed. "Ah well...it could be worse. I could be..." Orlan shuddered, "...good."

[Guest Lord Seth Exodus]

Seth strode on in silnce, this time abreast with Ozymandias; his features akin to those of his stern decorumed companion. His words with the elder had given him a new resolution with this whole ordeal.

 

As they approached the pond they came upon the same group of people that Seth had left hours before; it didn't look like much had been accomplished since then, either. As they came upon the gathering the noise of those waiting was lost on the two newcomers; Ozymandias didn't bat an eye as he passed through the outskirts, and Seth was speculating through every scenario yet again; though, making little more progress than before.

" Has Falcon said nothing yet?" Seth had come from his thoughts and addressed who ever was in ear shot. " We are getting nowhere with this." Though, he really wasn't interested in any response. He had fallen back into thought; a realisation had struck him. He had pinned down the whole affair....wait, no. No he hadn't. That would require an elephant, and a garden hose. And so he drifted back into a barrage of speculations.

[Falcon2001]

Cioden strode angrily into the room, followed by William Azunost and a man in a sharp black military uniform and a black beret, with a sword at his side and a silver belt circling his waist. The man in the uniform bowed stiffly at the waist, then clicked his heels sharply together and stood at attention.

 

"At ease, lieutenant." said William wearily, motioning to the man in the uniform.

 

The military man relaxed about a millimeter.

 

Cioden cleared his throat and spoke to Peredhil, who was looking a little frantic. "We've got a situation on our hands," he said, his eyes wild, " A BIG situation."

 

Peredhil eyed him cooly. "How big?"

 

"Falcon's missing!" William burst out.

 

Peredhil and company gasped, and Gyrfalcon (who happened to be in the same room) looked wildly around at the furniture to make sure Falcon wasn't going to bite him. Peredhil's eyes were a little less certain when he turned back to Cioden.

 

"What do you mean, Falcon's gone?"

 

"Gone, missing, kidnapped!!!" Cioden cried.

 

"Sir, permission to speak, sir!" said the black-garbed military man. Cioden nodded wearily.

 

"Permission granted, lieutenant, and introduce yourself to these guests."

 

"Sir, First Lieutenant Hayden Jones of the 11th Special Ops division reporting for duty, sir!" He stood at attention and bowed stiffly at the waist again.

 

Peredhil's brows rose a little, but he motioned to the lieutenant anyway. "At ease, lieutenant."

 

"Peredhil, this man will help us find our thief, and my shadow hunters are on the lookout even as we speak. Soon enough we will find falcon, before he bites someone and Lieutenant here has to put them out of their misery. Falcon's catching."

[Ozymandias]

The shadows were busy that day. An unknowable number of beings slipped quietly about the dark, flat world of shadow methodically fulfilling their urgent task. Yui Temae swore she saw something flicker at the edge of her perception several times, but whatever it was was always gone by the time she investigated. These were highly trained soldiers of a rare supernatural order, one that outfitted its troops with cloaks that allowed each and every one to "slip sideways" into the realm of the two-dimesioned evernight.

 

G aMMa com mAn der REPORTINg. NothinG new, Sir, said a voice that was not quite in the shadow hunter lieutenant's ears or mind, but somehow only partially in each. Normal conversation was a sound out of nightmare here, but it unnerved him not at all. In the shadow hunters, you either got used to the warping of the senses your battlefield inflicted or you went mad and were lost to never be found in an alien dimension. The shadow hunters recruited only the strongest minds possible.

 

gAAAAAAAAmmmumumumma, clar ify. Nu uu Th in g ?wen

 

Yzzz SIR. The civilians have discovered certain items of unknown origin as well as a few stolen goods.

But we [have] found nothing new.

 

D o n't g et cute WWW WWith me, S...eRgeant.

 

Sir!

 

Unknown$items?**Out*with*it,*soldier.

 

Sir! Th eunknown item {SAPPEAR} to B playing cards, Sir.

 

Playing cards?

 

Jokerz, Sir. Found by the ~vampire and the...nake done. Tucke dinto herwe apon an d wh ere the demon ch ild sle eps , resp ecti vely, sir

 

What in Hell...? thought the Lieutenant as he adroitly dodged something that swept past him. It might have been one of his team, it might not have. He wasn't concerned; it was already gone.

 

There are messages too, sir

 

He snappe dou tof his reverie. Damn it, sergeant, don't make me play twenty questions with you!

 

Sir! No Sir!

 

I'm not in the mood. What are the messages?

 

One word, on each card- HA. One written in black ink, one in red. Possibly blood, sir.

 

I see. ...IsTHAT all, he barked in a voice robbed of emotion, tone and timbre and granted something unhearable.

 

Sir yes sir

 

Good. Keep men on those two, I have a feelign that's our best lead.

 

Yes sir

 

And have your men encountered anything, Sergeant?

 

Sir?

 

I had a-en encounter, Kappa level a few minutes ago. May be nothing, but stay on alert. I want quarterly updates from all companys, you hear me?

 

Sir yes sir came a cacaphony of voices that made a devil sound human.

 

And Gamma?

 

Sir?

 

Stow the sarcasm crap. It doesn't suit you.

 

Sir, wouldn't dream of besmirching my character sir!

 

That'll do, soldier.

 

Sir!

 

Rolling eyes he was not sure he technically had in here, the lieutenant made his way through the shadows in the Cabaret. He came to a wooden door that on careful scrutiny could be seen to harbor no shadows- even though the light did not touch this section of the room directly. And there was an odd little thing shaped like a three-inch long human skeleton protruding from the lock, buried up to its kneecaps in the keyhole.

 

The door stood ajar the merest fraction of an inch.

 

Pos Sible anomaly in the Dreamer's quarters, team. Will make sextant reports. Immediate upon any unbriefed activity.

 

Sir! Request permission to maneuver backup!

 

D enied, Beta. KeeeeaaaaaaaYYYYYYYAAEEeep your team in position. I want nothing missed and will holler like a goosed whoa man if there's trouble.

 

Ser yehz S...i...r!

 

The shadow hunter lieutenant eased the door open. It squeaked a little, as he had expected it to. As he peered round the door, his eyes widened in shock.

 

"Well now, you're not the MAIN course, but you're still a juicy little morsel. Don't you agree, kids?"

 

"mrrroow www......"

 

Lieutenant Karset Carson, shadow hunter third degree, 457 time, three year field combat veteran, didn't even get the chance to scream.