"Thanks. Got anything to pack it in?"

With that slight detour done with, Daniel leaves the enterprising entrepreneur to his improvements and heads back toward the market. Maybe this time he'd have better luck...

Lucifer is handed a paper baggie without further adieu, but as he leaves he can hear Dibblakos talking to his rats-  "There you go, fatten up, no more low rations for you guys!".

He gets an automated text from Smoker.  The man must be busy with something for it to go to his automation queue.  But it assures him that one of Smoker's many Fixers will converge on his location and don't worry about staying still.

Inside the market he gets a few dirty glares for walking around with cages full of rats.  Others are not so torn up about it; survival is survival, and rats are always around in abundance.  He makes it part of the way through the steam market before he finds his goal:  the butcher shop.  There's not much beef here but it looks like the butcher has just taken apart a lamb.  The butcher looks up glumly as Lucifer approaches.

"Hoy,"  The butcher raises a bloody hand, "I'm out of kidneys if that's what you're after."

Hmh. He'd hoped for someone to be there before he returned to the market, but it's not really a big deal.

As he reaches the butcher he's slightly confused. What an oddly specific thing to lead with.

"I can do without. Looks like you've taken apart a lamb; how about some sirloin?"

"Oh thank Luna,"  The butcher mutters as he starts to look through the lamb pieces, "I have a rich man in front of me."  He looks up, "You want a roast or steaks?"

He frowns all of a sudden, focusing on a spot behind Lucifer's shoulder, to his right. "... Hey now. I don't want any trouble..."

"Was thinking steaks."

He gains a frown as the butcher focuses on something, glancing over his shoulder to follow the look.

"Yeah, yeah," The butcher mumbles, his eyes still over Daniel's shoulder...

Behind him are two young teenage men, dressed in ragged robes and carrying long, thin metal pipes scavenged from somewhere.  The tattoos on their neck- tribal, ancient- immediately mark them out to him.  They're members of the Exercitus Terrae, and they're locked on to him.  Both have a look that somehow mixes scowling unhappiness with rapt attention.

The fact that they're zeroing in on him means they must be from Smoker.

"Greetings, Enlightened One."  The oldest of the two raises his hand in benediction, "We have been sent by Brother Shackleford."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 20:56, Fri 17 Aug 2018.

There's a slight sigh as Daniel notes the young reconquistadors. He glances to the butcher apologetically.

"Ah. No trouble here. Sorry, just a moment."

He turns to the teens with a neutral expression, handing over the cage and take-away sausage inna bun. He speaks in a low tone so as to keep a level of privacy but not so hushed as to appear suspicious.

"Greetings. In a nutshell: Here's some samples of the food and ingredients of one Mr. Dibblakos, a sausage cart vendor I ran into in the Steam Market. I noticed a faint taint of the Void in all his goods; upon inspection, I determined the source to be the rats he cultivates in an abandoned part of the ship. Mr. Dibblakos agreed to have his wares inspected, so please see that these samples are inspected by qualified, dependable professionals and Mr. Dibblakos is informed of the results. If they are proved harmful, Mr. Dibblakos will have to be informed he's due for a career change. Smoker or someone in the command chain will be able to provide you with suitable inspectors for the wares."

He provides the necessary details of where he'd met Dibblakos as well as the way to his rat farm.

The younger of the two takes the rat and the sausage.  He takes a long sniff of the sausage and his stomach audibly rumbles.  "... Oh.  Brother Dibblakos's food ..."  He grimaces, "They always... always give me gas.  So much gas."

"But they are delicious," The older mutters.

"Yes, they are at that."

"Brother Baladge, please take this to the Sanctuary labs." The older says to the younger, "Give them Brother Shackleford's passwords."

"At once, Brother Framingham." The younger bows and takes off into a sprint through the crowded market, barging past them with little regard for their safety.  The rats squeak in terror as they're swung about, no doubt to find their final resting place in the vivisection labs of Sanctuary.

"Our apologies for the interruption," Brother Framingham says to the butcher and to Lucifer, "Please, continue."

Smoker's passwords? Most likely he'd just given them some low-level ones that weren't actually his, but a couple of teenagers being able to call on any amount of Smoker's influence was a slight cause for concern. They were probably cutaways... That, or Smoker actually harbored sympathies for the Exercitus Terrae. It wasn't an impossibility by any stretch, the man was kind of a sucker for all sorts of conspiracies. Daniel makes a mental note to bring the subject up just in case.

He gives a nod to the older acolyte before turning back to the butcher.

"...Right. Sorry about that. So, lamb steaks?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:40, Wed 22 Aug 2018.

"Already on it, sir,"  The butcher has begun cutting slabs of steaks while glancing up every so often at the older acolyte, Framingham, with a distrustful look.  "How many do you need?  In kilos?"

Framingham sucks on his teeth.  Tsst.

The butcher looks back down at the meat quickly.  "Begging your pardon, sir, how much in pounds?"

Daniel gains a frown. The butcher may be intimidated but he most certainly is not. Quite the opposite, the damn kid staying to loiter and look judgmental starts grinding his gears instantly.

"Half a kilo will do." Despite being american, Daniel had upgraded to the more logical, sensible and all-around strictly superior metric system quickly after it became the de facto standard for measurement after the Exodus. As all sensible people should.

As the butcher works, he throws Brother Framingham a glance. "Any reason in particular you're still here?"

He's not hostile, not even outwardly annoyed quite yet, but grave enough to convey that unless he's got a valid reason to stay now would be the time to go.

"There are other matters worth discussing," Brother Framingham tells Daniel, "And we hoped to have your input on a rite to honor fallen Gaia."

"Wrapped up in freezer paper, sir, or newspaper?"  The butcher asks Daniel, "The latter's better if you plan on eating it fresh."

"And, of course, to bask in your radiance."  Framingham continues.

”Newspaper in that case. Planning to have at least half of it today. Any tips on cooking?”

He takes a breath while regarding the boy. Was this a bully who’d found a cause to justify being better than others, or just a well-meaning but zealous teen fumbling about?

”A ritual to Gaia? Have to be careful with that, so as not to inadvertently venerate the Neverborn. What do you need my input on?”

The butcher shrugs, "Sear them both sides, salt and pepper and other herbs if you got em, 2 minutes each side.  Flip again, cook on lower heat for 4-6 minutes each side, then let rest for another five."  He suggests, "It's simple, yah, but it's not like we're gourmet anymore."

He starts wrapping the newspaper.  It's a tabloid rag.  The front page says "SONDOK AND LUCIFER THREE-WAY WITH GODDESS OF BOOM BOXES?  SEE THE PICTURES PAGES 2-8" with a smaller blurb, "Red Queen alone, conflicted - sad last days!!!".

"Err... everything, sir,"  Brother Framingham admits, "We were really worried about that... Brother Shackleford told us to wait because it's not like Gaia's getting any less venerated, but, we felt that veneration is a necessity, and..."

Daniel nods to the butcher. He was actually a decent cook due to his time at the soup kitchen way back when, but steaks were never really something he would’ve made often.

”Simple is good. Don’t have the time to marinate or anything anyway and my kitchen’s pretty barebones.”

As his eyes gloss over the headlines, he lets out a faint groan and scratches his brow. What the hell had the vultures found to fill seven pages with? Well, whatever.

He looks to Framingham with a positively surprised face. At least the kids seemed to realize the limitations of their knowledge to some extent.

”Well, Smoker’s not wrong. Gaia won’t gain much from your worship even if it’s done correctly, but sacraments and veneration are important for reasons beyond that. They are rituals for us as much as the ones they venerate. I respect your desire to do things correctly rather than by fumbling in the dark. I can give you some prayers and ceremonial considerations, but the main thing is to honor the memory of Gaia as we remember her rather than what she may have become and to denounce the Neverborn when doing it.”

"Which is why you must witness," The Brother replies with fervent, hissed zealotry, "We can't risk our prayers empowering the Neverborn!  And who better than a Zenith?  The strongest Zenith ever?  Everything must be correct.  There are theories-"  He suddenly stops and swallows, "Regardless, we would be most honored to have you visit our enclave.  And we have places you can cook."

The butcher grunts,  "Pay now or tab?" to Lucifer.  "I don't normally do tabs but you might be an exception."

He was going to regret this, wasn't he? Eh. Not like he had anything worthwhile to do and he could always bail if it was about to take too long or get too inept.

"Hmh. I'll visit to consult for the ritual but don't expect me to stay long."

He walks over to the counter to pay a fairly rounded-up price. "That should do. Don't know when I'll visit next so wouldn't be fair to leave you hanging. Have a pleasant day."

"Thank you, Brother Lucifer." Brother Framingham bows, "We will very much appreciate your assistance."


The butcher takes the money and grunts, an eyebrow raised.  "Could leave me an address. Could make deliveries for this."  He taps the credit chip.  "Wouldn't mind being a supplier?"

”Don’t think I’ll have the chance to cook like this often, but I’ll leave you an address in case I do.”

He gives the butcher a place close enough to his place to be convenient but far enough to not give away his location in detail. His address wasn’t really top secret but he did what he could to avoid unnecessary attention (read: pestering).

After he’s done taking the butcher’s contact info for orders he thanks the him, bids him good day and turns to Brother Framingham.

”I hope your place is not far. Lead on. And don’t make a big deal of this.”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Mon 27 Aug 2018.

Brother Framingham... looks like he was just about to make a very big deal indeed.  But he summons some dark inner strength to keep himself from adding another bit to Daniel's day, and so he just leads the way, chanting something in Latin.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Proin quis tellus feugiat, venenatis risus eu, venenatis purus. Morbi mollis dui arcu, eu ornare velit ultrices in. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Pellentesque orci lectus, dictum vitae arcu ac, pretium mollis nulla. Sed venenatis posuere malesuada. Aliquam non finibus est. Suspendisse luctus nulla justo, et viverra nulla congue in. Ut varius, purus sollicitudin finibus porttitor, nisi justo finibus ipsum, finibus bibendum sem augue a magna. Aliquam nibh ligula, vestibulum eget semper eget, fringilla maximus mi. Nunc sit amet porta est, vitae volutpat felis. Vestibulum scelerisque mauris non nisl varius, in ultrices risus eleifend. Curabitur sit amet elit neque. Duis condimentum mauris vel pretium commodo. In faucibus aliquet convallis..."

The chanting goes on as he moves through the Steam Market.  The crowd parts quickly for Brother Framingham, pressing in on Lucifer as he passes.  One inspires fear, the other inspires hope.

"Do you miss Earth, Brother Lucifer?"  He asks once they leave the main crowd, switching to the access tunnels leading out and towards some of the lower-class suburbs.

Daniel has to concentrate all of his willpower on staving off an aneurysm as Brother Framingham starts chanting. Rarely if ever had he been so simultaneously amused and infuriated at such incompetence.

He makes an effort to not come off as an ally or friend to the boy as they move past the crowd; he is merely accompanying him. He passes little blessings and words of encouragement here and there now that a low profile was out of the picture. He feels a bit strange doing it while carrying groceries, though.

As the brother asks his question he thinks for a moment.

”I miss belonging. I miss simpler times when the world was finite and victories yielded more than another moment of respite. Earth as it was provided those, but no more. I miss Earth as it was, but like so many things beloved and precious, it is gone now and no amount of effort can save it or bring it back. Not in this universe, anyway. Otherwise I would’ve never left it.”
This message was last edited by the player at 12:54, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

In a very disconcerting moment, he notices a woman darting forward to try to touch his feet as he passes.

Brother Framingham pays that no notice.

"But the videos."  He says, confused about Lucifer's answer. "I've seen them.  Watched the holy Empeefours."

Ah, right.  THAT video.  It wasn't at the final Ragnarok, the Last Battle of Seoul, but at one point- exhausted and probably maddened by Sol Invictus's death- he'd had to be literally dragged away into the Last Refuge.  It was the last video taken on Earth:  him struggling to stay. 

"They are important to the Exercitus Terrae.  We appreciated your vitality and zealotry."

Enh. He gets where the woman’s coming from; Mary Magdalene and the anointing of Jesus, and all that. Doesn’t really help make it less awkward though.

His expression gets unusually grave even by his standards as Brother Framingham brings up the tapes.

”Yes... Helsinki. When Sol was no longer Invictus, where the patron of my zealotry was cast down and enslaved by the Void. Those tapes chronicle the dying throes of Lucifer the blind zealot. I was still able to fight, so in my rage I saw nothing but the next enemy to destroy. I did not see that for every hundred I killed, a hundred innocents were caught in the rubble. That every step I drove the Dead back brought me further from the Last Refuge and risked the true future of the Living. I did not realize it then, Brother Framingham, but no matter the outcome of the battle, the war had already been lost. In the moment I was unable to accept that no matter how unstoppable I was, no matter how many thousands of the Dead I exterminated, it wouldn’t be enough. Ly- ...my friends were right to drag me away. Had they not, I would have gone out in a selfish blaze of glory. It would’ve been a simpler, easier path. Being whittled away from a million necrotic cuts would’ve been far less painful than the truth I had to face.”

He heaves a heavy sigh.


“I’m still angry, perhaps more so than ever. I’m never giving up until I draw my final breath. But Earth is undeniably, irrevocably gone, and to return there now would be to return to Helsinki and choose a glorious death over the survival of the Living. Replicate my drive and vitality if it inspires you, but direct it to a cause that’s achievable and benefits more than your ego.”
This message was last edited by the player at 08:14, Thu 30 Aug 2018.

"You would have us- stop?" He asks, standing stock still in place.  He turns to face Lucifer, "You- Lucifer, the Morning Star, Savior of Camden, Scourge of the Neverborn, truly believe that Earth is lost and cannot be regained?  That there's no hope of reconquest?"

Ah.  Lucifer sees it in his eyes.  A conflict of faith.  The man's bedrock has been shaken.

For the first time Daniel feels an inkling of sympathy for the young fool. He returns a gaze that’s grave but not defeated and speaks in a steady rhythm, pausing where appropriate to allow for processing what he is and isn’t saying.

”I will give you no commands, but these irrevocable, painful truths I will impart: Whether or not Earth can be reclaimed is a moot point. Even if we could do it - which, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t do when the Dead were only at a fraction of their current power - we would be conquering a lifeless husk with no hope of resurgence. Gaia is with the Dead now, and nothing in this universe can bring her back. Going back to Earth would bring nothing but death and the ultimate extinguishment of the Living even if successful. To bank on such a hope is misguided, for ultimately it is to give up hope of a better tomorrow to avoid accepting the painful truth of the past and the present. Earth as we know it is gone from this universe, and while I know better than most the agony and despair this realization brings, the truth will not change no matter how one tries to deny it.”

By now he’s gotten well and truly into it, quite possibly drawing a crowd in the process. He sighs, then inhales and continues on a more uplifting note before the weight of his truth bomb has evolved into full-on hopelessness.

”But make no mistake; while Earth is well and truly gone, the Living are not defeated and hope still remains. While this universe may be lost, it is but one battle in a war of cosmic proportions. Every battle won, every sacrifice made brings us one page closer to the next chapter of the Saga of the Living; a fresh start, a new beginning in a parallel Creation. Perhaps in the Brave New World we will even find an Earth where we can settle once more; if not, we will found a New Eden and flourish once more. This night may seem endless and it is full of horrors, but in time, this too shall pass and every tragedy, every sacrifice will be vindicated.”

((1 Chi on +5 Inspire
Inspire: 28+20+5+10 = 63
Confidence to appear steadfast: 27+20+10 = 57 ))
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Mon 03 Sept 2018.