Time passed and the group was finally ready to set out to meet the Collector. Talion had agreed to meet the group at the entrance to the Hedge where the Goblin Market was set up. It had been there that Noah had first met both the Collector and Talion... though Talion himself had never gone to Noah's stall.

Noah was hunkered down in the back of a box truck with the window to the front cabin opened. If no one could drive he would have one of the helpers drive. "So assume nothing. You can literally give someone your name by telling them it. Many of the fea just give you a nickname if they want to talk to you a lot. Don't shake anyone's hand. If someone gets pushing tell them the Dragon of Purgatory is your advocate, that will put you under the protection of the market."

"This is also an opportunity to buy things if you want them. Some vendors take shiny buttons where as others take your concept of dreaming the color nine. You can also buy conceptual things but the more powerful the more costly they get. The market could sell you a good day or the last heartbeat of Hitler."

Mistral sat in a window-seat in the front of the box truck, staring pensively out at the overgrown ruins of New York City passing by outside the window.  She glanced back in as Noah explained some of the dangerously nonsensical rules of the goblin market.  She idly scratched under the dragon's chin as she looked back out the window, then remarked, "I dislike putting all that I know in the power of the Collector.  I am inclined to temporarily excise certain knowledges that I would prefer not be collected, comme précaution."

She considered the risk of compromising any name of hers, even the shadow name, and deemed that unacceptable.  She suggested, "I think we would be wise to select sobriquets for this meeting.  False names."  Just as they arrived at the place they were to meet Talion, Mistral decided what her alias would be and shared it with the others, "When we pass into the Hedge, I will be called Lacune."

Mistral disembarked from the truck and opened the latch on the back to let loose the dragon.  She greeted Talion levelly, "Bonjour, Talion.  Do you have le contrat d'Emily?"

Sal drove the van, having Mistral stow his rifle and estoc in her secret hideaway, to be summoned if needed. Of course, he wasn't sure if they could be summoned in the goblin market, so he kept his handgun and hidden throwing knives. "I shall be Rosario. A name I wouldn't miss if I accidentally sold it."

 They arrived at an underpass with beggars in cardboard boxes hawking wares from shopping carts, likely things scavenged from trashcans. Talion was nowhere to be found at first but then they turned around and there he was, as if he'd been there all along. This was the first time any of you had seen him without a suit and tie.

 Instead, he wore a pair of khakis, a plain button down shirt with the top 2 buttons undone, and a nice (inexpensive) pair of shoes. He seemed tired. "It has been a very long time since I've had to hide. I've forgotten how tiring it is. Here."

 Talion produced a strange looking object like a cross between a miniature loom and a large hypodermic needle. "You'll need this to restore the temporal severance of Hook and the children. To use it, you'll need to gather threads of fate from the land of the dead to load it with, then inject it at the end of their tailbone... but, be aware that the reason that they now sit outside of time is that their death was stolen. This will give them a death determined by the thread of fate. They will live, but only until the requirements for their death are met... much like your bane against Pan."

 Talion handed Mistral the object and produced Emily's contract. "I do. I am ready when you are."

 OOC: what are your active magics?

Noah rumbled contently at Mistral the whole way but he barely moved relaying his tension at the whole ordeal. "Mental surgery is unique but there are mental armor spells. From what I know he is like a worm and about as clever as I am when it comes to unraveling complex trees."

"When you are near him it's like he takes a photo of your mind. He gets curious about dark spots on the photograph. I only manage by not playing his game. He is a creature I fear more than Talion for all his power."

Noah sat down as he still had his armor on. He would keep up the act, even though he didn't have to, just to be sure no one got at him with a cellphone camera before it was time to reveal to the world. "So, to get there we have to go my market rules. A coin a head and clearly state the desired bargain for passage. Be detailed. That way if a boggin or something shows up I can handle it with authority."

Hole in the middle
mind link with Mistral
Prime barrier

"How is there not a market rule against uninvited mindreading? If a kindred were caught doing that during a negotiation, it would be a breach of the peace, and likely lead to bloodshed," said Sal.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:14, Sat 18 July 2020.

"There are rules opposed to mind reading. However, he stays in his realm. His realm means his rules. At that point, only the laws of contracts apply. At that point, it boils down to how well worded your contract is. I don't pretend to like the rules, but for what you can find on the market it is well worth the rules. Hell, there is a cure for vampirism on the market but no one wants to afford the cost."

"There is even a discount holy grail, a true blood stone, and the first kiss of a doomed love that you could buy. If you can think of it, they can likely sell a type of it to you."

"My vampirism hardly needs to be cured. I can feed without harming anyone, and thanks to our esteemed employer, I can enjoy the sun. The real problem is the tendency to frenzy. When heavily wounded or hungry, there is no guarantee I can control my actions."

Noah held up a single talon. "I did not say your fangs should be cured or need to be cured. Only that there is a cure. The point was to spark your imagination as to what you could get and how it values the rules therein. If you wanted a vial of Cain's blood, it's in there."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. More importantly, I wouldn't know when to stop," Sal said.

Mistral looked Talion up and down, hardly recognizing him looking so... average.  She replied with a smirk, "Pour moi it is quite the opposite.  It is only when well-hidden that I may relax.  À chacun son goût."


Mistral received the curious needle and loom device, which she examined with interest.  She remarked, "Intrigante.  Fate is not my realm of expertise, but I do hope we needn't return to Stygia to collect these threads.  I think we had best not bring such a rare device to le marché des gobelins.  I will safely stow it in the Fallen World but beyond reach.  Objections?"  If there were no objections Mistral would enfold the device within the fabric of spacetime, sequestering it away in the place-between-places.

After seeing the contract Mistral glanced to Noah and then to Sal, her lips moving as she finalized her spells.  Turning back to Talion she nodded, "Toujours prête.  I am always ready."

 Talion sighed. "You likely will. It is quite difficult to find Threads of Fate outside of Stygia… barring this market, of course. That said, the price markup is murder here."

 Talion reached into the pocket of his khakis and pulled out 5 goblin coins. "I contract you to bring us safely to the front door of the Collector's home and, once we have retrieved Emily, back to this world."

 With that said, Talion led the way past the hawking beggars and into the underpass. As they passed through the mounds of garbage and plastic strips, they found that the stalls became ever more strange looking and the wares more exotic, finally leading into the goblin market proper with creatures of all descriptions shouting out prices for all manner of goods.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:42, Tue 21 July 2020.

Noah collected the coins each rolled over his giant knuckles before he spirited them away in the fashion of a stage illusionist. "Sorry about this Talion, but if you didn't make a deal the whole market would come down on us if I so much as tell a vendor to buzz off from you."

"They love their rules." Noah did blink at the mention of murder being a price and he was caught between laughing and seeing about getting the prices on murders. "I mean... I am sure I can get ahold of a redcap or something. I do carry one of the black vendor cards."

Noah walked but kept that long tail curled around the group just to be sure a boggle or something doesn't harass the group. He would have to swing by the stall to get the Alice box and to give the vendors an update.

Noah's stall in the market was not unlike the others. A deep stall for holding goods and a small front for the presentation of a good to be bartered. There was a small sign giving pricing on various memories and experiences. A mark up for non-digital copies and a massive mark up for original memories. The shelves all looked bare as bones in the middle of death valley yet there was not even a hint of dust.

In the middle of the stall sat three men all playing a rousing game of Texas Hold'em. It seemed like no one was winning and they all held about the same amount of winnings. One of the men tapped the table and the one that was facing away from the front of the stall turned to address his customers.

"Greetings guests, I am afraid "The Ark's Rowboat" is currently experiancing a shortage in supplies. Please come back in a month or so and we should have our supply reestablished." The strangest thing is that the man at the counter was Noah, well Noah as a human dressed in dark pants and a near midevil tunic of all things.

One of the men at the table spoke up. "Sorry about this." And the man was also a human Noah dressed in the same manner. Even the last guy in the stall playing cards, at this moment looking at the first Noah's cards, he was also a human Noah.

Visiting the goblin market made Mistral uneasy, and when she was uneasy she became difficult to find.  She faded from awareness shortly after Talion paid their passage and stated the terms of their visit, but nobody could be sure when she'd gone.  One might begin to question whether she'd even come along at all.

Yet, when they arrived at the Ark's Rowboat some time later, Mistral was indistinctly at their side as if she'd been there all along.  She gazed curiously at the Noah triplets, then gave Noah the dragon a look, then returned to her silent observation.  At length she spoke, "<Hello, gentlemen.  A shame about the shortage of supplies.  Rumors tell that the proprietor has been rather preoccupied with other matters, of late.  Perhaps he will return sooner than you expect, however.>"  Oddly, listeners were aware that everything Mistral had just said was spoken entirely in French, yet even those who knew nothing of the language understood her with the perfect clarity of a native French-speaker.  They heard it as French and despite having gained no new fluency themselves, she was somehow understood nonetheless.

 Talion stopped at the front of the stall, glancing for a time at each of the synthetics and then back to dragon Noah. He held that glance for a moment before turning his attention to the pricing on memories.

 "It seems that much of your fortune was made on the sale of suffering."

 As he stepped aside, Mistral and Sal could see that many of the prices on display were for unpleasant memories. "Not that I have any room to criticize. For a very long time, I traded wishes for souls... war can force a person to make some very difficult choices."

Noah tilted his head. "Careful not to kick the dog who only survives by the scraps that fall from your table Talion. I did not become the best at dealing with trauma by mending synths who fall off ladders."

"They fixate on their abuse until they just dont have any quality of life at all. A small cut and a synth once an abused toy of a wicked man can go on and live a better life caring for children, donated after an anonymous call to the cops. A blood sport fighter becomes a guard at a hospital."

"Its not clean work. But I only ever claimed to be a thief and will worker." He smiled. "Let me know if you ever want to see the worst I pull them from. Some synths never recover and have to be entirely programmed ground up."

"Humanity as a whole, we have an amazing capacity to be cruel.  But there are a bright few shiny ones we can use to pull humanity from its psychic filth." he looked at Mistral and Sal. "A few that make it worth the effort."

"All the same, I'm a monster Talion. You've just made the outside look like the inside. I'm trying to be better, but I'm still a monster."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Tue 21 July 2020.

The first human Noah at the counter blinked. "That is a delightful trick. Bout the only languages we speak is English and poor English." He blinked again and smiled At Mistral. "Hello there... It would be great if supply did show back up. We kinda promised the Kinder a PlayStation if they kept a lookout for hags." The Noah that cheated at cards spoke up as he sat back. "Nasty things that would take you, hex you, and eat you... Not always in that order."

The third in the back, "Still, if he comes back it would be nice. Near four months and not a word." He looked at Mistral and blinked before he smiled "You sure you are not a winter lady? Stunning." He shook his head and looked at Talion. "If you are looking for suffering that is three stalls down the next right turn. I think they got a fresh stock of liquid pain in yesterday. Though We've been told they also do fresh doses. Or you could check out the slave market if you care to do it yourself but please do not return here if you do."

And then the mention of selling souls. "I think there is a lich on the lower levels, never been. You could try them."

 Talion glanced sideways at Noah and smirked. "Says the man who is set to inherit the fate of an entire species. The merit of your work is what earned you that position. There would have been no one else in this world who could have restored Amy, so please do not insult me by calling yourself a dog in my presence. The merit of your work is not in question here. I'm simply curious about your motivation to sell memories."

 Talion placed a hand on the desk and tapped it once with his index finger. "Will you be selling memories of Amy's time with the Nephandi? How about Sabrina's treatment? Scar's immolation?"

 As the multiples of Noah begin to speak up, Talion removes his hand from the counter. "I believe strongly in the ends justifying the means and I have done many terrible things... so I will not criticize, but I will ask about your motive."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:15, Wed 22 July 2020.

Noah looked at the gesture Talion just made and then back up to Talion. He knew Talion just did something but he would have to figure it out later. Noah had watched the cloud of nanites the man breathed out at the boat. Able to turn the attackers into protein gel with a thought. "Mind the scale we are talking about Talion. I'm a spec on your scale, never mind the fact I can still throw a punch enough to get the attention of your enemies. The work with Amy and Sabrina is the apex of my work. It's still weak to the things you do."

"I've seen. And therapy sessions will be on Friday at three."

"And no, that is why I have sealed their memories rather than excised them. I only sell if I cut the memory out. Though at this rate I won't have to do it again once Braindance goes public. I'll have to close the shop."

 Talion paused for a moment. "For all your talk of scale, remember that I am a refugee. I'm just a man using what I know to improve the lives of as many people around me as I can. Scale only matters regarding how many lives you can touch at once... and it magnifies one's failures just as much as it magnifies one's successes.

 What truly matters is motive and motivation. What is your goal and are you putting in enough effort to achieve it?"

Noah sat down and sighed. "Twelve coins bought passage back to the land of the living and purchased an artifact to sever the connection of the demons contract with his mages. Another coin could buy a guard to keep the kids safe while Scar is on vacation in Dresden. That is what my motivation is then, to use horrid things to make a positive impact and to bridge the gap when I can't do enough."

"When I started it was to overcome your shadow. Now it's to give the synths freedom and mortal rights. I presume later it will be to raise up the supernaturals."

"Living in your shadow as a kid taught me that I have no limits worth a damn and the only way we are going to live, to beat things like that fish out there, is together. We can't do it alone, you can't do it alone, and if coins bought with bad memories motivate enough supernaturals to help turn the tide I am going to be there and swing for the fences."

"By any means that is my motivation now. To be a rock of which our house will be built to weather the storm to come. The coins and the memories are how I got started. Things will change soon. But there it is."

 Talion closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he smiled genuinely for the first time in what has likely been months. "I knew entrusting Grey and the fate of the entire synthetic race to you was the right thing to do."

Noah tilted his head, "I hope you're right. It's entirely terrifying. I can survive your collateral but we both know the council is going to shit bricks here soon. Once Synths have rights most supernaturals can pass off as synths."

Each human Noah looked back and forth and the one in the back was the one to ask. "Who the hell are you people? and why is the golf dad questioning the E.D. unit?"

 Talion glanced at the synths in the shop and sighed. "My technician I.D. is 001... and this is the heir to Synthos Inc."

 Upon saying "this", he indicated Dragon Noah. Once he was done offering his explanation to the human Noahs, he turned to Dragon Noah. "So, why are we here?"

Gonna give the others a chance. We took off on a conversation that had been some time in waiting. X.X

Mistral inclined her head toward the welcoming trio of Noahs, and to the compliment of her universal language she replied simply, "Merci."  As the triplets bemoaned their absentee proprietor she looked at Noah, who was ignoring his employees in favor of philosophizing with Talion.  She shrugged, and left it to him to ignore or attend his underlings as it suits him.


Mistral sighed at the familiarly-awkward flirting, but put on a faint smile.  She decided to answer the replicant straightforwardly even if he'd asked facetiously, "<I do prefer the cold and my manner has been called so, but I am not of the winter in that sense.>"  Her curiously 'wintry' hair coloration was another matter entirely.  Her companions may have noticed that the blue color of her hair-tips had never faded, grown out, nor required re-dying.  The white and blue seemed to be her natural hair coloration, somehow.  Mistral turned to dragon-Noah in disguise and remarked, drily, "Déjà vu, threefold."

Mistral listened in on the discussion of the morality of excising and selling traumatic synth-memories to mnemonic vampires like the Collector.  Such a thing could be viewed as noble, terrible and everything in between, depending on one's perspective.  Mistral wasn't interested in debate in this place, and so she elected to remain quiet.  Soon enough Noah and Talion came to an understanding, and the question arose from both Talion and the triplets of why they were here.  Mistral wasn't sure what Noah had in mind, but she didn't mind plainly stating her intent, "<I am no one, and we've a business matter to be resolved with the Collector.>"

Noah smiled so whide the armor shifted as Mistral spoke to the task at hand. "Dont let her fool you." He reached back and pulled out a number of large boxes. "She is all that and a bag of bret's." Noah had apparently been looking up french foods in all his scheming.

He looked at the trio of Me's evenly. "It is the silver spoon that rings for dinner, the March Hair and Hatter will be along soon." He opened the boxes, one a box of disks the other a hoard of synth food and battery backups.

"Sorry to have kept quiet. Dieing did not sit well with me." He reached behind the counter with his tail and pulled free two boxes. One with a few coins and the other something that a Russian king would adore.

"Every lock has a key. But here sometimes you need a lock to open a key. You want to get to his place you need an invite or a lock to his door."

"Last stop before we go into the lions gut. I've got a few coins to spare if you need shopping done. Though dont break the group. This is one place above all you dont split the party."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:46, Wed 22 July 2020.

The counter Noah took the box and fished out a number of the ration bars and tossed them to the other Noahs in the stall. "Tech one and Noah prime's personal E.D. unit. Things must have really gone to hell in a handbasket." The counter Noah squinted at the E.D. Unit. "You cant broadcast even into the market. Nice armor prime." The Noah in the back chuckled, "That or he has gone full cromo-sapien on us."

Counter Noah clapped and smiled, "What are you looking to buy, I am sure we can direct you to a friend for some extra kick back."

Sal's pride demanded the scales not tip any farther. He declined the coin, "My debt to you is large enough, Noah. Besides, I'm afraid I've never been very imaginative. Get something nice for Grey. There must be something dreamed up by a mind like Wonka, around here."

Noah inclined his head to Sal and then looked at Talion. "How much for a power source big enough to make Grey a happy kid?" Grey was hyper complex and near infinite in power but her limitation was that she was operating on less than one percent power.

 Talion blinked at Noah in surprise and then passively looked first at Sal then at Mistral before looking back at Noah. "A lot... the question is not how much would make her happy but instead how much is safe to give her... safe for the planet, not for her. Five coins and I will give you a small marble of phlogiston."

Noah smiled wide enough to cause his mask to shift as he fished around in the box he just picked up and counted out the coins, handing them to Talion. "That is a jawbreaker that will keep her content for a good long time. I'll make sure that she saves at least half for a very bad day."

He nodded at Sal. "Talion is the one who made Grey's power system. She is always hungry due to the fact she runs with us on one percent of her total power. A drop of the good stuff for you for a year so to speak. Ill turn it into a confection for her." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I know calling any debt off would wound a mans honor. But if you run across anything in relation to dragons, I would count that as a even scale. I can only dig up so much but there are memories far longer than mine and you have access to them."

When asked whether they were interested in any shopping, Mistral said, "On the journey here I spied a boutique with products that emitted an intriguing and possibly useful resonance admixture.  I am curious to have a closer look."  She could find the way back simply enough, but nonetheless described the establishment to one of the Noah triplets in case it was familiar to them.

The Noah's did indeed know the shop and provided entirely different directions than the way they came. As was par for the course in a crossroad market. One thing Mistral could note is that everyone else; shoppers, vendors, even the odder things all seemed terrified of the conversation that was had.

It was a short walk until the synthetic brought her, and the group, to a small but deep stall with a rather brilliant sign that had a number of illusions that showed a pair of elves dancing in ballroom attire. "Hat man Jacks Millinery and haberdashery". The space within was clearly larger than the space without as there was a hall of a number of spaces where elves, humans, and other beings of similar build stood. Sitting at a round desk that separated him from the room was a tall man of lethal beauty. In the way that only the fair folk can pull off, it was clear he was a literal lady killer.

Never mind the horns and oddly bent legs, he was a Jumping Jack. The same fea that was blamed for the Ripper murders. And his suit matched that dark lethal grace. He only looked up with one eye as the other eye kept reading the book he held in his hands.

He waved a hand as if to say to feel free to look around as one eye tracked the group. Of the presented clothing, some fantastic and others absolutely alien and hurt the mind to look at. Of the whole store only a few could even fit Mistral unless she had an extra set of arms and a tail.

The beings wearing the clothing, to any mage, clearly had no aura beyond an illusion but they still held the beauty of stories. Sal got no sense of life, his beast looking at them as it would a bottle of glue.

The first was a dress spun litteraly of moon beams. The white dress went from shoulder to floor and had a near divine grace to it. Infront of the dress was a old style card. "Luna's gown. Bane to werewolves. Twelve killed by its touch alone."

A pair of gloves that looked as if they had been created by growing them from a rose bush. Absolutely delicate and brillantly crafted. The small note read "Gloves of madam butterfly. Awareness of foe and wax"

A white silk shirt that looked fitted. The most normal looking thing in the whole place. The card read "Nurse spider silk shirt. Devours injuries."

A cloak of litteral freaking shadows. It looked fuzzy and not a physical way. The card read, "Cloak of shadows. Suffer the day to vanish fully at night."

Lastly there was a vest of a reflective leather. The logo of Talion himself stamped on the inside. The card read, "Talion craft^TM - Deflect or reflect the spells of nasty mages"
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:12, Thu 23 July 2020.

 Talion noted the leather vest with a wry smile. "I always wondered what they were doing with all that exotic beast leather."

Mistral strolled into the bizarre establishment and did her best to keep herself from gawking at the bizarre sights that greeted her at every turn.  She had witnessed a number of inexplicable things since her introduction to the supernatural, particularly in the last few months, but she'd never seen the like of the products displayed in Hat man Jacks Millinery and Haberdashery.  The proprietor himself could be nothing other than a True Fae, whose otherworldly beauty had an undeniably malign character to it.  He did not see fit to offer welcome nor assistance, and that suited Mistral well enough.

She silently browsed the singularly strange garments on display without touching, passing over many that were designed for alien body structures.  There were a few intriguing selections that might be worn by a human woman, and she paused to study these and admire their mystical craftsmanship.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:38, Fri 24 July 2020.

Knowledge:
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:13, Fri 24 July 2020.

Bigger note: Luna's Gown was a dress Mistral remembered from a story. There was a creature called the Leanhaum-Shee. It was a faerie that was arcadian version of a vampire. It's notable as she walked into a werewolf moot and nearly killed every wolf save the pups. The pack had apparently killed a mortal man she loved bringing her to vengeance. Each wolf had been turned to ash in her embrace.
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:34, Fri 24 July 2020.

These items held remarkable power, if Mistral's observations and memory of their legends told true.  She had to wonder what their price would be, and what sort of devious drawback each might possess.  She decided she may as well ask.

Mistral addressed the Fey in French, but via an enchantment that would make her understood to any listener, and for her to understand them in turn.  "Hat Man Jack, one presumes?"  Unsure of the rules of decorum, she decided to perform a small bow, which she thought a safe bet.  "Bonjour.  I wonder what you might tell me about a certain pair of interesting items on display... Madame Butterfly's gloves, and the shirt woven of nurse spider's silk."  She didn't ask the price, but guessed that the discussion would lead there soon enough.

The JumpingJack devil sighed and closed his book. The sense of him before was that he would likely have enjoyed skinning Mistral to make a coat of her. Now it was mild annoyance at a 'local' in his presence. "If there is another hatman Jack let me know so I may work murder on him."

He leaned forward looking her eye to eye. His gaze was like the physical feeling a razor blade pressed to skin. "The gloves detect the presence of hostile creatures whom are shapeshifter or shifters. And detrcts the presence of life magic. I'm no mage so I cant vouch for accuracy."

"The shirt was crafted from the egg sack silk to be precise. The little darlings live on the hedge side of the world and suckle your wounds away. It wont heal a gunshot or if you set yourself on fire but you'll heal like magic when it comes to being hit by a car."

It took a force of will for Mistral to maintain her composure when the fae leaned closer and turned his serrated gaze upon her.  Yet, she held his eye as he explained the workings of these hedge-spun artifacts.  He did not give the full picture, she knew, but that was the way of things in this place.  Mistral nodded once in acknowledgement, then said carefully, "I am prepared to propose a bargain.  Madame Butterfly's gloves will become mine to keep and to own, and in exchange I offer a memory of value to me."  She paused and then asked evenly, "Would such a proposal be of interest to the Lord of Hats?"

The pretty predator leaned forward, a line of tasty salivation drawing a line to his chin as he was ready to eat her whole body and soul.  He then offered his hand. "Deal, and we will roll the dice."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:59, Sat 25 July 2020.

Noah rumbled his discontent hard enough to vibrate the ground under him. Mistral was a woman who could make her own deals and she would ask if she needed his help. But he also was plotting to murder the hell out of the fea if he took more than he was allowed. You always grew concerned for the people you cared about.

Mistral narrowed her eyes at the sinister fae’s salivation, wondering if she’d already overlooked some terrible pitfall in this negotiation.  She answered, “An addendum.  The singular memory I offer will be one of my choosing, but you may be informed of its contents ahead of time.”  She did not extend her hand, and instead sought clarification, “What dice are these, and in what way will they bear upon this transaction?”

Talion tapped lightly on Mistral's shoulder. "'Rolling the dice' is a turn of phrase. If he took your memory of signing the Tower of the Iron Gauntlet, then your entire life would have been rearranged... and he would have access to all of your magical understanding.

 It is supremely dangerous to trade in memories or time. Tread carefully... and know that there are far safer deals you could be making."

Noah sat down and thought for a long moment. "You have seeds from an apple of the tree of life from Baulder. You have two minor artifacts released to you freely. You have things worthy of trade that do not lessen yourself."

"One only manages a long life as a market merchant by only selling things they can afford. And the most valuable thing you own is yourself. Every part of you."

Talion's warning was well-taken, for it was true that a memory is more than a single drop in the pond of one's mind, but also the ripples that spread out from it.  Noah also chimed in to provide reminders of sensible alternative offers she might make, too.  Mistral tried not to be too annoyed, because she knew that they meant well.  She looked to Talion and Noah over her shoulder and inclined her head their way, then said, "Merci beaucoup for your advice, gentlemen.  Now, if you will excuse me a moment, I have a trade to conduct."

Mistral turned back to Hat-Man Jack and repeated, "A singular memory of value and of my choosing, in exchange for Madame Butterfly's gloves.  What say you?"  She crossed her arms and awaited the fae's answer.

Jack rolled his eyes but in opposite directions hard enough to make a wet and tiny meat on meat sound. "No, it is worth at least the memory of a parent, lover, or mentor. You could get by with three lesser memories. Or we can start taking concepts like the color red until we hit an equal value. Unless you have a memory I find openly juicy."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:04, Sun 26 July 2020.

Noah nodded once and sat down effectively loitering a network call with Talion.

Mistral's brow furrowed slightly in distaste over the fae's unsightly eye-rolling shenanigans, and she looked away.  She was quiet for a long span of moments, eyes unfocused in recollection.  She then turned back toward Hat Man Jack and gave a single nod and said quietly, "I offer the memory of a person I once knew, in exchange for Madame Butterfly's gloves.  If you deem this memory to be of insufficient value then I will bid adieu to both this transaction and to you, Monsieur."  She felt inclined to always mention the full trade terms, lest the fae treat a sentence of colloquial discussion as the trade agreement itself.

Jack tilted his head at the offering and one eye drifted as he pondered. "You offer one thing for something that does two. A memory one. Throw in the taste of fruit or something like that and you have a deal."

If you are offering that it depends on how many loves she has had in her life. There are a few things that can be done there.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:35, Tue 28 July 2020.

Mistral held her gaze on Hat Man Jack's one eye that remained focused on her, then let a long span of moments pass in silence.  She then said succinctly, "Non.  I have given my offer, and it is more than 'one thing' to moi.  Take it or leave it."

Jack tilted his head and offered his hand. "I will enjoy this."

Mistral said carefully, "The aforementioned transaction for the specific memory I offer, and nothing more.  The Dragon of Purgatory is my advocate, and will confirm that the terms are kept."  Mistral looked to Noah and telepathically sought witness and final confirmation from him that this was a proper transaction by goblin market law. 

Only if such confirmation was received, would Mistral extend a hand to Hat Man Jack and shake to the agreement.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:12, Tue 28 July 2020.

Jack would wait until the armored dragon was present to observe. (Success rolling for Noah.) Who enters into the whole compact. There is nothing that Noah could do as an advocate because Jack took only three-quarters of his payment. What he took was anything positive about her interactions with the person. Every light and good thing about the memory and he left behind the dark.

There was no recollection of who it was, why exactly she did it, only that someone had been mistreated by her.

Jack leaned back and his face had taken on a new appearance. An unremembered face as if he had grown up. "The hunters will have a good night. Take the gloves and begone. I have a Fetch to make."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:51, Tue 28 July 2020.

Noah's tail slammed down hard as his anger with the Jumping jack stirred. "He is playing by the rules but only just barely. I can confirm he took only part of the memory offered." He growled from within the armor. "The payment is concluded. The accord stressed but not broken... as of yet."

"Now you see why I'm hesitant to shop here. You don't know what you're getting, or what the cost truly is. 'The intrigues of the Kindred are children's games next to the manipulations of the Yokai,' my Sire once told me. I think I know now who the Yokai really are." Sal whispers after they leave the shop.

As soon as the shake was made and the deal struck, Mistral felt a strange dissociation and then... an absence.  She'd sought to trade away long-remembered regrets regarding a particular person.  Now only the regrets remained, but the person she'd wronged and cast away was gone like ashes on the wind.  Mistral narrowed her eyes at the fae, whose appearance had changed to that of a blonde, bearded man about her age, with a tired look about the eyes.  She thought she ought to know the face, but she didn't.  All she knew was that the owner of that face now belonged to Hat Man Jack... and had been delivered by her.

Mistral turned away from the fae in disgust and went to the strangely lifeless model wearing the pair of delicate gloves woven of rose vines.  She carefully removed the gloves from cold hands and slipped them over her own, turning them over to look at them.  They were exquisite and powerful, and absolutely not worth their price.  Mistral went to the entrance of Hat Man Jack's Millinery and Haberdashery and looked back to address the proprietor, "Au revoir, Lord of Hats.  Hope that we never meet again, for your own sake."  With that, she turned and stalked off in no particular direction other than 'away.'

Once she was well out of sight of the shop Mistral stopped and took a long breath as the others caught up.  She said, "I dislike shopping as a rule, but that has set a new standard for unpleasant."  She silently regarded her rosy-gloved fist for as she unclenched it.  At length, she asked, "The Collector.  Where is he?"

 Talion remained silent during the exchange, though when Jack took on the form of a man, he clenched his jaw. He did not speak for several moments after exiting the shop. When he did speak, his voice was carefully measured. She knew the tone he was using as she had used it many times before to mask her own anger.

 "Please explain to me why you did that."

 If she cared to look at him, she could see that his jaw was trembling in anger. "Just so you understand why I'm so upset, THAT..."

 He pointed back at the shop... and he seemed to be losing his ability to keep his tone level. "... is how contracts like THIS..."

 He reached to the pocket that contained Emily's contract, hands shaking. "... get written!"

 He clamped his shaking hand over his quivering jaw in a forceful effort to stop shaking.

Noah left the shop and sat down. He produced the box he took from the stall and pulled its lock out from the box like pulling a man's tooth. "When ready I can take us into the lock his door resides."

He listened as Talion questioned Mistral. "We are not the best people to be questioning her motives. We gave our advisement but only Sal hasn't made barter with the fair folk."

"Hunts are not until the full moon. If we wish to save the boy from ... we have time. If he is dead we will have to visit the land of the dead to protect his soul."

 Talion pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know better than that. You and I are members of the Market and were Witnesses to the contract. As long as Jack has the contract, we are obligated not to interfere... and, without the boy's name, I can't negotiate for his contract."

 He stood there, holding each wrist by the other hand, trying to stop himself from shaking.

Mistral stood with arms crossed, glaring back at Talion with a coldly impassive face as he berated her.  When he was finished she was quiet for a long moment before answering in a measured tone, "I sold a memory, a portion of my own mind.  I bargained only because the cost was to be mine to pay, no other.  Not this man, whoever he may be..."  She stopped and closed her eyes, shaking her head despondently, "Rather, I sold a monster a figurative adresse postale, to do with as he saw fit.  Insensée..."  Mistral grudgingly conceded, "It was a mistake."

She looked back to Talion and considered, then asked, "Is this how the Doctor's contract was written, Monsieur?  Did our late nemesis take unscrupulous advantage of a contract of yours...?"

EDIT:  Removed speaking a bunch of names Mist's player dumbly threw in, whereas Mist herself would surely know better than to speak aloud here.  If GM wants to factor this gaffe into Mist's forthcoming destruction then I understand, tho ;P
EDIT 2:  Successfully Wisdomed Mist's way out of foolishness!
This message was last edited by the player at 01:10, Wed 29 July 2020.

Noah spread his wings around the group to the best of his ability and expanded a barrier that was normally just around himself as of late. "Careful, my barriers can protect from idle backlash but not overmuch. This is a conversation to be hand after it is all said and done and we are all back on the ship. If you are ready I can take us into the lock." There was a worry, if she was willing to trade a close friend from so long ago would she trade him away. Just how dark would it get when all the light was blown out.

Nah, she wouldn't sell memories of Noah... nah...

 It was taking him great effort but his hands and jaws were slowly becoming steady. He took several deep breaths and his voice was beginning to return to normal, but it still sounded strained. "No. I have the name of the man who sold the Doctor's name to the Fae. Have you ever seen what happens to a werewolf when they're exposed to the vacuum of space? I took extensive notes on the subject.

 But make no mistake. Your memories are not just yours and the price of a memory is not just yours to pay... every memory you have is a sympathetic connection to another person, place, or thing. As a specialist in Space and Mind magic, you should have known better."

 Talion took several more breaths until he had finally calmed himself. "I'm ready to go."

Mistral made no reply to the rebukes, but rather raised her hood and faded out of focus to the perceptions of observers.  Were their group not imminently to rescue Doctor Lennis, she might well disappear altogether.

In a coldly level tone, Mistral echoed her readiness, "As am I."

Sal said, "Ready as I'll ever be."

Ooc

I'll start the upload once I get home. First post for each room will be audio so its gonna go slow but responses will be mostly normal.

"Remember, he is a memory vore and on par with fea like Oberon. He knows what you think about, he knows what memories spawned what skill you are using. Know thy self." Noah tossed the lock into his mouth as the head covering opened up and he started chewing on the lock before he exhaled a plume of thick white smoke.

Again, all first posts from me in each room will have an audio before returning to normal posting. Audio goes up and then you can respond just fine. Ill let you know once I start making them for the room you enter.

https://soundcloud.com/desktop...st-1-1/s-mQQqMxRWJTh

 Once the Fae magic had taken hold and the transportation to the Collector was complete, Noah had once more transformed into his Pangolin Dragon form... and Talion...

 … was still Talion. However, the act of transportation seemed to have changed his outfit. No longer did he wear Khakis and a button down shirt, instead he wore flowing purple robes over a suit of armor made of shining gold. His head was adorned with a crown fitted with crystalline blue fire. It was a garb that sympathetically screamed "Emperor"... and each person nearby found that an ephemeral thread of Fate spun off from them and wove itself into the robe. No matter what one may try, severing the thread was impossible. It simply turned into mist upon being touched and reformed moments later.

 Talion turned from the plaque and listened to the Collector speak. For now, he said nothing. It had promised that she could leave with him... but those around him could see his fists clench and unclench though his face remained impassive.

 He closed his eyes and turned back around, wordlessly grabbing the gilded handle to the alabaster door, opening it and half stepping inside. "I'm counting on you."

 That was all he said before he stepped across the threshold, letting the door close behind him.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:34, Thu 30 July 2020.

Noah hung his head low as he moved to the exit and curled up right in front of it. His hulking form balled enough to let him keep eyes on the room and all in it. He wasn't going to enter the main rooms, he wouldn't, and the caretaker knew that. More than once they had gone back and forth and Noah was never going to match wits with the caretaker. The only way to win his game was to never play. Even if you came out on top you did not win.

The journey through the smoke was unpleasant, and reminded Mistral of her earliest spatial jaunts before she'd solidified the formulae for pattern-continuity.  It was similar, but this journey went by a quite different route.

Mistral was at first blinded by the brilliant whiteness, and as her eyes adjusted she felt unsettlingly exposed in this blank space beyond the rosewood door.  Her eyes turned to the brass plate with the curious fable engraved upon it, and upon reading it she beheld the gaunt monster that was the Collector.  He gave his shrewd speech with a showman's relish for his strange trial, and she looked with some trepidation upon the ghostly portal to her own museum of memory.  If that is what it was then there were things in there she very much did not wish to relive.

When the Collector had finished she looked toward Talion, who had taken on a majestic form and presence that were the very image of the Hieromagus.  She nodded toward him and said, "He holds the Lady's contract.  She is not yours to hold hostage to our participation in this perverse game.  Release her to us, and we will be on our way."

EDIT:  Added reaction to Talion's new form
This message was last edited by the player at 06:25, Thu 30 July 2020.

There was no response. Either the good doctor made another contract of her own or the laws of the hunt still applied.

Mistral quietly fumed as her demand was either ignored or unheard.  What use was a supposedly immutable contract that did not apply in the moment of need?  Talion begrudgingly entered his own door, which in itself demonstrated that there would be no escape from the Collector's games.  No way to leave with the Doctor, except through.  Emperor Apocalypse left them with the weight of his expectation, and Mistral answered with a single nod as the door shut behind him.

Resigning herself to this necessary folly, Mistral stalked toward the spectral door.  She paused at the threshold to look back over her shoulder to Sal and to Noah, curled against the rosewood entryway.  She held the dragon's eye for a long moment with an unreadable expression, then turned away and vanished beyond the veil of her museum of memory...

When Mistral met his gaze he extended one of the defenses he used to throw off the caretaker in the past. Like a shadow she would commonly use to be unseen there was an over thought like a daydream. Idle thought reading would pick up a bodice ripper novel called "dragon in distress" and little else. It wouldn't hold up to an extreme focus but it did mean her thoughts would be unnoticeable.

That and it was an absolute joy to get back for the bamphing spooks of hers.

Sal looked at Noah before he walked through, "Lucky time works differently around here. I have have a lot of memories that might be used against me. If you have any spells that can help, or further advice, now's the time."

Noah nodded and poked Sal in the forehead causing a 3 stooges film to play over his thoughts like a bubble. "It's not much but it will slow his passive mind reading. Know yourself man. You got this."

"Thank you," said Sal, and without further hesitation, he went through his door.

https://soundcloud.com/desktop...etaker/s-8mVMwoYMWLr

Sal:

 https://www.dropbox.com/s/gs9v...Sals%20room.mp3?dl=0

You all are invited to review each room. But can only affect your own room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:11, Tue 04 Aug 2020.

 Talion took a moment to simply inhale. It had been so long since he had smelled the air of his home. It had been so long since he had felt the soil of his homeland beneath his feet... the soil where all those things he cherished so much were buried.

 But there was no time for that. Sariel stood before him. The man who had brought him out of one of his darkest times... the man he had killed... twice. He listened passively to Sariel and the Collector speak as the pittering alien laughter filled the sky.

 He knew that sound... and what it meant. When he spoke, it wasn't to address the memory of the man he'd murdered, nor was it to address all of the sins he'd committed in the War of Elders. Instead, it was to address the Collector directly.

 "They have a saying, here on Sol III. 'When you stare long into the Abyss, the Abyss stares into you.' You seem to have opened something you shouldn't have. Even you should know what happens in a realm like this if a voidspawn gets loose. You should go take care of that... and mind the locked doors in my mind. There are things far worse than Star Vampires inside."

 Talion closed his eyes and inhaled, savoring the taste of the air once more before he turned to Sariel. "You never did have a sense of self-preservation. You always forged ahead regardless of the danger or consequence... and you became a Majin as a result... and the reckless gamble you took to seal away the Inquisitor failed... DarGaia. That was what you once called her, the Mother of Monsters. Everything we did was an abject failure. It was my hope that your death would save Ardain… but I was whisked away before I could even see it through.

 For what it is worth, I am sorry, old friend. Your memory and teachings still live one... and I think I may have found your reincarnation. Only time will tell... perhaps I even won't have to kill him this time."

Mistral stepped through the spectral door, but emerged in an all-too-familiar stairway down to a sanctum she'd hoped never to see again.  She recognized the smells of smoke, old wood and older parchment, as well as the muffled clamor of Hong Kong traffic and the neon glow filtering in through the high basement windows.  All was precisely as it had been the last time she'd been here nearly four years past, down to the same case on the table.  As she descended the steps Mistral glanced down at her hand to see whether it was as it looked now in fae-spun gloves, or was it her bare and near-skeletal hand from that day four years past?

Then, there he was.  Larkspur, just as crooked and condescending as he ever was.  The feelings were familiar as well, a heady mix of revulsion, fear and a begrudging respect.  Mistral approached with a stony face and looked down at the contents of the case.  Now this was a divergence from her memory.  She silently took in the specialized tools of murder as Larkspur explained what she was to do with them.  She remained still for a long few moments, then looked back up to the haggard, tattooed memory of Larkspur and said, "You are my handler no longer.  I do not take orders from you."  She held his gaze, fighting back old fears of retribution suffered for defying her old mentor.  She then went on, "If this charge were véritable then it demonstrates a gross lack of Wisdom in the elders who have sanctioned it.  I suspect they do not realize that they have called for the death of the very one who will fulfill the Diamond Wheel."

She crossed her arms and added, "Yet all of this is une mascarade, isn't it?  This is the Collector speaking through my memories.  Is this your game, then?  To turn me against mes compagnons?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:28, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

In reply to Talion (msg # 83):

One of the CareTakers walked out of the back of the fine-haired young man and he was watching the sky, tracking somethings movement. He stepped forward and growled.
_"Parasites"
 "Parasites"
   ^"Parasites"


The moment he started walking away a door formed in front of him. And at the same moment, the young man silently snapped back and a mouth formed in the palm of his hand. He bit down on something and a gold thread snapped. Once the CareTaker was gone to go deal with ... the something ... the young man just left his hand behind with that gold thread in its teeth.

He raised his other arm and left another mouth palmed hand hanging there before his hands came out of his sleeves once again just fine. "You would think that it would check for other parasites once it discovers it has a tapeworm. You look good Necros, like a dad but good." He smiled "If I had to guess based on the lines of thought the next room is forming now."

He smiled and decided to hug Necros, treating him just like anyone else. "It's so good to see you man." Sariel looked both sad and happy. "By Endar it is good to see you."

In reply to Mistral (msg # 84):

For the up coming post I need a wits+dex+athletics.

We're already in the Matrix, so may as well pull a Matrix-y acrobatic stunt :)

• 16:57, Today: Secret Roll: Mistral rolled 4 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 4,10(+4),6,10(+3),10(+6),9,6.  Wits + Dex + Athletics.

In reply to Mistral (msg # 87):

Larkspur raised up like he was going to scold Mistral in a fit of fury but she couldnt hear what he was saying. Not because sound had gone quiet but more because something twitched her senses. So long as she had been in the building the only space that existed was the room she was in. Teleportation was impossible in such a realm. But in that moment her senses expanded into nothing.

But that was important. Something just punctured in and there was more than just the room she was in. That was when both her magic and the terror remembered made her body move to the side. The thing that had bitten into her mind before crashed through the stairs. Here, however, it was visible. A mass of black flesh and lashing pseudopods. A massive mouth filled with the promise of perpetual insanity and terror.

The Star Vampire that had bitten her on the road to the Nephandi was here, present, and very much real in a realm of memory. The massive beast had attempted to surprise attack Mistral as it had gotten a taste for her suffering. Much as how Tick Tock got a taste for Hook.

The well-trained space mage had danced aside only for the monster to carry forward and to bite Larkspur. When it lifted up with its prize the legs kicking out of his maw appeared to be of a thin well dressed man rather than Larkspur.

Two doors appeared, one another caretaker coming out of. The other at the end of a room that was rappidly breaking appart into the void of white nothing just outside the walls.

 Talion smiled gently, with eyes filled with regret... as an old veteran would at a fellow soldier. It was an expression Sariel had never seen from him while alive. "I doubt it has ever had two entities in its museum with psionic parasites in their heads at once. I'm glad I could talk to you again."

 Talion accepted the hug and squeezed Sariel like one would a long lost son. "I've kept the Festival of Mutato going... for as long as there was anyone to listen."

 Sariel could feel the drops of tears on his shoulder. "But the chess set you gave me was eaten by a giant fish... I couldn't find it."

 He took another deep breath and squeezed once more before he let go. "When you sealed yourself away, it was like the massacre on the Maris Plains all over again. For all that it's worth, I'm sorry... and I'm glad I could see you again, even if just for a little while."

Sal replied to the caretaker with a hint of sarcasm before returning to his normal, matter-of-fact tones, "Sorry if my memories aren't to your liking. I never offered them anyway. I am--among other things-- what you say: a liar, and a predator. I have, ironically, been honest to my friends about both of these facts. Neither are uncommon qualities where we come from. Regardless, whether or not you can find a way test me is your problem. It should have no bearing on whether or not my friends and I are permitted to return home with the doctor." Sal looked around to see if he could find a way "forward."

In reply to Sal (msg # 90):

The caretaker seemed distracted by something for a moment before looked back to his meal. "It would be unwise to pretend to be so well versed in the laws. You could end up losing more than you assume." He tossed what looked to be a plate of maggots across the diner and stood to look at Sal through the window. "So you've told them the danger of a predator?"

There was a flashback, a blink long. A wicked creature had hung Sal up for time too long to care about, slicing strips of his back and waiting until he healed. Over and over until the process couldn't be pushed further. And then they brought in the people. Cattle of humans, blood dolls at best, captives at worst.

And just like that, the flashback was over. "What would have happened if you ran out of blood in the never-never? If you waited too long in the land of the dead as a living man, snapping back to undeath having gone too long without feeding the beast."

"How far have you divorced yourself from the thrill of the feed?" He tilted his head to the side far to far, "Would you atone? Take the antidote if so offered to you?"

In reply to Talion (msg # 89):

"It looks like you learned much from the festival. It looks like you've put many miles on your boots. And it looks like you have many more yet to go."

"Dont ever stop caring about them. You get dust in your soul if you stop caring. It hurts because it is of value. Things can and will again get bad. And it may not be your lot to burn your candle at both ends like me."

"But you are the father of souls even if they do not come from you. Someday you may change further. But for now, you need people as much as people need you."

"And dont think for a second I hold a grudge. Absolution is all you get out of me." He clapped his hands and sniffled. "Now, I think I'll use what time is left to burrow into this feas body and do some damage before that dragon stares at me for too much longer."

"You're a good man Necros. It was my lifes honor to have known you. It still is, and always will be." He reached out again and a mouth in his palm tore at the fabric of the memory to show the next door before he turned to threads and wormed his way into the floor.

Mistral braced herself for Larkspur's anger, almost glad for it.  She hadn't been a match for him in those days, but now she was more.  This wasn't truly him before her, but destroying her memory would be cathartic, at least.

Yet, she had no chance to do so, because just then a worse memory came crashing into this one, and she only narrowly managed to get out of its way.  "Merde..." she muttered in terrified awe.  The cackling horror that had invaded her mind outside the Nephandi compound was here in its full grotesque form that until now she'd only seen hints and fragments of.  Mistral blanched and choked back a scream at the sight of it gnashing and eating the facsimile of Larkspur in its terrible maw, but then she acted.  Two doors had showed themselves in the rapidly disintegrating memory-space, one went somewhere that was falling apart while another Caretaker emerged from the other.  Which to choose?

Mistral quickly snapped shut the lid shut to the case on the table, snatched it up and then... she split into three.  Two copies of herself dashed away with the same briefcase in hand, each taking one of the exit doors while one Mistral remained behind.  The two replica Mistrals exited and slammed the doors behind them if it were possible to do so, while the other turned to watch the star vampire consume the collector.

 Talion let go of Sariel and nodded, gathering his resolve as Sariel left his memory to cause even more damage to the Caretaker. He had no idea what this version of Sariel would do. He was unpredictable at the best of times, but Talion had faith that it would be catastrophic for the Caretaker.

 Faith... Talion began to actually laugh at the absurdity of his own thought as he made for the new door.

Sal realized that he wouldn't be able to move on if he didn't cooperate, and there was no point in outright lying, so he answered the caretaker's questions, taking care to focus his thoughts only on the questions presented. "I've told them what happens if I starve or am grievously wounded, yes. If I ran out of blood in either of those places, I would have attacked the nearest human. No kindred can leave behind the thrill of feeding, though I don't allow it to control me. I subsist primarily on a synthetic substitute. Of course there are things I would atone for. Would I take an antidote if offered one? That question depends on many factors. Most importantly: Have I been poisoned?

In reply to Mistral (msg # 93):

The new caretaker lifted his arm and there was an odd bundle of wicked-looking vines in his hand. That was all Mistral could see before she bamphed herself to the other side of the door. The door slammed behind her, a feature of single admittances, leaving her in a void of white space.

The first feature of this place was the fact there was no air, forcing Mistral to hold onto the breath she had taken back in the room before. The second was the pure amount of cubes she saw floating around. There had to be as many as stars in the sky and just as distant if not further. There was a number of caretakers moving from box to box but they took no notice of her.

She managed to get into the spaces in between. There was little room for doubt that this must be what the spaces in between the supernal realms must be like.

Only three such cubes had been close at all. The cube she just escaped, and two a short distance away. The cube closer to her in this nothing space had what looked like a mass of fibers hanging from it.

As soon as she saw the mass it seemed to also see her. The mass shifted and detached as it started shifting towards her. Ontop of this mass was a young man who couldn't be older the twenty years old. He had fine white hair like spider silk, the same fibers he was riding like a cloud, and odd clothing with a number of glyphs and markings. Over his heart and on his back stood what looked like a holy symbol of all things. A book on a black field in a circle.

Her senses told her that although it was a form made of thought it was a physical being. But it was also wounded, seeing only a third of what it really was. "ᚺᛖᛚᛚ, ᛁᛟᚢ ᛊᚺᛟᚢᛚᛞᚾ×ᛏ ᛒᛖ ᛟᚢᛏ ᚺᛖᚱᛖ. ᛞᛟ ᛁᛟᚢ ᚾᛖᛖᛞ ᚺᛖᛚᛈ?" The young man called out to her. He waited a moment before there was a wave in her thoughts like the smell of good books. A warmth of unconditional love that loved her and she had to do nothing to earn that love. Understanding overlayed his odd speech. "Hi there. Kinda dangerous out here."

He was drawing close but there was no aggression in his stance. More so a number of caretakers had vanished into the mass of fibers he was riding, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of dead Caretaker.

In reply to Sal (msg # 95):

The caretaker set a odd green glass bottle in the window. "Of course you are poisoned. It runs in you and tells you 'more' at all times. Even the breeds are thick with it. More violence, more power, more beauty. Your poison is a God-shaped hole that is filled with sin until it manifests in your flesh."

"Your like are why humanity turned on the fair folk. Cain's war on all that is magical and divine."

"And there are cures, cures for each of you but not all of you." The caretaker's smile grew wider. "The collector can offer absolution. A cure for YOUR vampirisim. Trading one life for another all your own. No hunger other than your own. No sin but your own."

Mistral knew she had to escape the horrendous star vampire, but once she'd shut the door behind her she wasn't so sure her situation had improved.  This white void full of constructed mnemonic demiplanes was fascinating and she would love to study it... if she had air to breath.  She had now fallen into a slow, weightless spin while still grasping the briefcase, and had almost no control over her movement.  This was not good, considering she had only until the end of her held breath to escape with her life.

With some effort Mistral countered her spin until she'd slowed it enough to get her bearings.  There seemed an infinite proliferation of these cubes, yet the distances between them were so vast!  This would hardly be a problem if she could teleport, but without voice that was not an option.  Only two cubes--perhaps Talion and Sal's memories--were near enough even to consider.  The nearer cube had something odd attached to it, like a plumage of long, gossamer fibers.  Not just something, but someone that had now taken notice of her!  It was a young man who must be an Awakened judging by the markings on his clothes, but was clearly something more as well.  She wasn't sure what he was, but she would wager that the star vampire was a closer relative to his than humanity.

Yet, his presence brought feelings of warmth and comfort and care.  She knew these must be emotional manipulation of some sort, but that did not stop them feeling very good, despite her desperate situation.  Then, oddly enough, he greeted her and stated a rather obvious fact.  With her pale face beginning to redden with held breath, Mistral waved with one hand and with the other gestured urgently at her throat with a strangling motion.  He seemed quite powerful, and she could only hope he had some means to enable her to breathe again!

In reply to Mistral (msg # 98):

The young man looked like he just caught onto something. He flexed his hands and the fibers came out from under his fingernails and from a clear crease in the middle of his palms. He formed what looked like a net and cast it out making a bubble of spiderweb around the both of them.

A moment later the web filled and there was air. It was filled with unfamiliar scents but something similar to the smell just before a rainstorm.

Local Caretakers did take notice but as they approached they got caught on another web that seemed massively hostile to their health.

Mistral, being Mistral, had seen the individual fibers before. Every single fiber was a perfect replication of the very edge if a portal.

"Sorry about that." He looked up and made a few gestures. His casting style was alien to the extreme but there was a field that rendered them unseen entirely. "Hi there. I'm guessing by the taste of my brother and dragon your friends with Necros. He is the cube over there. If you need a ride I can get you in before I go ruin this fea for life." he smiled ear to ear. "Unless you would like to go somewhere else. A friend of brother is a friend of mine."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:53, Fri 07 Aug 2020.

"Regardless of what Cain may have sought, I have no enmity toward the divine nor magical."

"If your collector can't absolve my sins, I have no use for his antidote. Let my beast seek its own absolution."

A curious net was formed and Mistral heaved in a breath of the fresh-smelling air.  After taking in a few more breaths she looked back to the young man and said, "Merci beaucoup..."  Her attention was somewhat distracted by the manifold threads that she recognized as portal edges, though how so many could be gathered and shaped was a rather intriguing mystery.  "Dynamic, instantiated sliver-Portes?  Or are they unbounded Warp threads...  Whatever the case, très extraordinaire."

Returning her attention to matters at hand, she answered, "That is not the name by which I know him, but I think I know whom you mean.  'Ally' may be a more accurate term, as of now."  Mistral considered his offer and shook her head, "Entering his memory may be more inimical to my health than this void, I suspect.  I welcome you to ruin this Fae maligne, but first there is a doctor we must extract from this place.  We were meant to find her at this journey' end.  Can you take me to her?"  As helpful as this curious and powerful young man was, Mistral remained wary of giving names to anyone in this damnable place.

Mistral attempted to trace what sympathetic bond she had to Dr. Lennis, though the odds of it working in this alien voidspace seemed slim.

In reply to Mistral (msg # 101):

The young man bowed and then pointed to a clump of cubes with a connection to the cube that contained Talion. "The only other soul unaccounted for is there connected to Necros' memory train."

He chuckled about the threads. "The threads come from a odd realm beast I call a glass Walker. When your summons vanish or the fabric between realms is ripped they are the ones that fix it. They are in the in between there to close a portal."

"Goo9ng into talions cube is safe ish. It's more lethal to joint the vampire.As to this other person cant get in there without opening the door from the inside. You're choice really."

Mistral looked thoughtful and remarked, "I had always thought the fabric of the realms had a way of healing itself from wounds, in time.  Of finding equilibrium.  I suppose that may be the work of these Glass Walkers.  Fascinante."

Upon being apprised of her options she laughed unamusedly to herself, "Safe-ish to intrude upon the manifested consciousness of l'esprit de l'Apocalypse.  I appreciate your optimism, though I cannot say I share it."  Mistral surveyed the chain of cubes linked to Talion's and said, "This seems to be the best option, however.  Very well.  Allons-y."

In reply to Sal (msg # 100):

The Caretaker gestured to the vial and then down the street. There was a door down that way that stood there in the paused time of 1800's new york. "Your choice then." There was an odd stain spreading across the abdomen of the caretaker like it had been bitten by something. It made no sign of discomfort.

It had odd green-colored blood.

In reply to Mistral (msg # 103):

The young man smiled, "Sounds like a chicken or the egg situation to me. Who knows, there are a lot of strange critters with a lot of strange powers out there." He had no idea he wasn't on his homeworld anymore. But strangeness never broke his stride before.

He pointed up, "Sometimes unrestrained optimism is the only reason we make it through the rough patches. Now, let's get you set so I can go kick this things brain and ruin it forever."

He crossed his fingers a few times and made a thin sheet of the fibers. "Wear the veil if you please. It should keep you nice n' separate even if Necros loses his discipline. It isn't very sturdy, so don't let someone touch it, but it will treat your mind as if it is an entirely different reality."

He nodded once, "And thanks, it takes a special kind of person to even be around him. He has been through a lot of horrors, it's nice to see he has found some bright shiny spots in the dark." He then cast a spell, one that formed not a portal but a true Gate. A portal that could puncture right through planar boundaries without traveling the spaces between.

"Off you go now. Right as rain and twice as delightful."

Not believing that the Caretaker's wound could possibly be real, but knowing he was being tested, Sal said, "Are you okay? You seem to be... bleeding."

Mistral hesitated at first when offered the veil, having seen the ruinous effect of the glass walker fibers on the caretakers.  Somehow she found it difficult to be suspicious of this charming young man and his extraordinary power, however.  "The Collector reads minds like a book open to all pages, it is said.  If this will shield me from this it would be worthwhile in itself."  With care, she draped the veil over her head and tried to secure it in place as best she could.

With face now enshrouded in the diaphanous supernal veil, Mistral agreed, "I do not doubt that he has.  Now to reunite him with the shiniest spot of them all, in his eyes."  She looked to the Gate, which was a remarkable construction that defied its own impossibility.  Mistral inclined her head to the young man, "Merci encore, stranger.  I am in your debt.  Au revoir."

Mistral then projected herself toward the Gate, and passed through it.

In reply to Sal (msg # 106):

The Caretaker did not seem to react, if anything it looked as if it was caught in the same memory time stop as the rest of the scene. It was also starting to bleed from the nose. Something was very wrong and getting worse. An idea given light by the fact that a brick near his foot fell into a white nothing just before a street light started degrading into dust. The memory he was in was starting to buckle.

Sal hurried through the door that had been pointed out to him.

 As Mistral stepped into Talion's room, she caught the scent of unfamiliar air, an unfamiliar sky, and alien vegetation. The land was a blasted hellscape scourged by magical warfare and a stone tower jutted out of its crater near a mountain. The moon had cracked open and was descending towards the planet.

 Talion had composed himself but Mistral could see the faint traces of tears still in the corners of his eyes. He looked at Mistral and the Gate and smiled. It was the distant, bittersweet smile of a fond old memory turned painful. "He never was particularly subtle."

Mistral had no idea what to expect beyond the gate into Talion's memory, but she strode through nonetheless and emerged in the aftermath of a calamity on an alien world.  There stood Talion upon a battlefield rent asunder and scorched by vast works of will, with a stone tower in the distance, silhouetted against a strange sky.  Mistral approached and read upon his face that this was an important yet bittersweet recollection of his.  She joined him in surveying the blasted landscape and answered, "Oui.  I met him only briefly, but 'subtle' is not the word I would use."

Mistral hesitated for a beat, then said, "Remember why we are here, Monsieur.  You cannot undo the past, but you can save the future.  Come.  We haven't much time before this realm falls apart around us."  If a door was in evidence Mistral would start toward it, beckoning Talion to follow.

 Talion closed his eyes and nodded, inhaling one more time to savor the smells of his homeworld one last time before he began striding toward the portal. As he walked, before he reached the door, he spoke (but did not stop). "By the way, that veil you're wearing is woven from Paradox."

 However, he said no more as he entered the next room.

https://soundcloud.com/desktop...-final/s-hrZyJR2NqMU

https://www.dropbox.com/s/qwjd...oom%20final.mp3?dl=0

https://youtu.be/_uoI6W8NeBY

 Talion looked from wall to wall, floor to ceiling and each golden scale... each tombstone connected to his emperor's raiment just as Mistral's thread did and vanished once he moved too far away.

 There was no mistaking who these names were. They were all people like Mistral... and like Sal. They were all souls who's fate had been intertwined with Talion's. Millions... billions... trillions of lives.

 Hearing them question him, walking past the monuments to his own failure, Talion clutched at his chest with one hand and his head with the other. He didn't speak. He did not answer the chorus of voices. He did not answer the Collector. Drops of liquid tass streaming down his cheeks, he continued his steps forward... onward to his goal... onward to Emily.

 But Mistral and Sal could both see that Talion's steps began to slow, that his shoulders began to slump... and, before he got even a third of the way through the graveyard, his strength failed him and he dropped to his knees. "I... can't answer that..."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:20, Mon 10 Aug 2020.

The news that the veil was woven of paradox was unnerving, but Mistral took it in stride.  She remarked, "I might be alarmed, but at this point I've come to expect such existential shocks at every turn."

Mistral passed through the strange tunnel of scales until it opened out into a galactic-scale graveyard.  From every headstone a thread tracing back to Talion, and every thread had a name and an accusatory voice all asking the same two-word question.  Mistral surmised that these graves must be the numberless casualties of Talion's endeavors, spanning from before that ancient magical war on an alien world to the destruction of New York City.  the Caretaker's voice boomed above the thunderous clamor to denounce Talion for a coward, and it was clear that the accusation struck to the core of the accused.

When Talion faltered, Mistral turned to him and took him by the arm.  Looking him in the face, she urged him with some force behind her words, "You must press on, Monsieur.  You must look forward."  She yanked on his arm, trying to drag him to his feet as she echoed the inescapable question in a new light, "Are you going to let this defeat you?"

Sal wormed his way through into the cube with Talion and Mistral, and ran up and roughly hauled Talion to his feet, holding him up face to face, "Are you gonna tell me, we came all this way, risking so much, and you don't know the answer to a question Descartes answered hundreds of years ago?!"

https://youtu.be/1w35vbh5_3E

 Talion was heavier than he appeared, but not quite so much that both Sal and Mistral were unable to lift him to his feet. He looked to each of them in turn, his eyes haunted by the horrors of the past. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he gained his composure.

 "That is not the question they are asking me. When all things began and Infinity was born, it asked a question... and Fate began to search for an answer.

 If that question is ever answered, everyone will die... not just here. Not just on Earth. Every world, every realm, everything, everywhere... it all dies.

The synthetics were not the first of my creations. I fought a war to prevent that question from being answered. I bought souls with wishes and put those men and women through hell to train them to fight.

 I fought beside them... and I watched them die.

 When I scoured my world clean of life, they were singing... because they thought it was over.

 ...and, since then, I have seen things. Beautiful, terrible things.

 Talion steadied himself so that he no longer leaned on the two of them for support.


  I have watched civilizations rise. I have been present for the birth of stars. I have watched universes freeze... and I have watched. time. end.

 As he spoke, Talion regained his strength... or perhaps it was simply that, after all this time, the dam on his emotions finally broke and it all just came pouring out.

 I have walked in realms where the very laws of physics were devised by mad gods just like you and I have learned something... no matter where you go, the weight of a life is the same.

 You like to feast on memories, don't you, Collector?!?

 Look around you! There are trillions of lives here and I remember each and every one!

 ... so come then! Let me tell you a story of how all these men and women lived! I will tell you of their bravery! of their sacrifice!

 ... and of those they left behind.

 The story continues, Collector! It will, for as long as I draw breath! ... and I will remember them all!"

 As he spoke, figures emerged from the gravestones, golden shadows of men, women, and children. Soldiers and citizens, people of all ages, creeds, and races across the ages.

 These people went through the motions of Talion's memories of them: The little urchin girl who sold flowers, the men armed for war, and every possible scenario in between. Trillions of lives that Talion had touched... and who's lives had touched him in return... and, together, they all began to sing.

 "These people lived! Each and every one of them! Great and small, they lived! Can you bear that weight, Collector? Can you bear the burden of a trillion lives?!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Wed 12 Aug 2020.

Feeling his willpower mysteriously bolstered, Sal focused his will against the magic Talion was working.

It was a relief to see Sal arrive to help  with Talion, although his appearance did not bode well for the stability of this realm.

Mistral was awestruck as Talion elucidated a vast history of reality, and then conjured to life countless golden memories of people all throughout the indescribably vast graveyard.  She had to wonder: would this overabundance of memories choke the Collector as Talion hoped, or would it be a feast?  Given the scale of the Collector's domain, it was difficult to tell.

As they awaited a response from their beleaguered host Mistral remarked, "Well-spoken, Monsieur.  Prior to shattering this realm, I think it may be wise to locate the Doctor and secure our escape, non?"  She cast her supernal sight wide and searched for doors leading out of this place.

https://soundcloud.com/desktop...s/caretaker-response

https://www.dropbox.com/s/q6ac...%20response.mp3?dl=0

 Talion seemed as though he were about to answer Mistral until a young woman took his hand in her own and claimed the entirety of his attention. Her hair was black and her eyes the same heterochroma as Talion's. There was no mistaking her blood relation to him. She was about Mistral's age, maybe a little younger and Talion closed his eyes to (unsuccessfully) fight back the tass laden tears that flowed freely.

 From his reaction, it was clear that this manifestation was not of Talion's magic... but, instead, something else entirely. She led the song as all those lives that Talion touched marched with them... a procession spanning eons as they passed through the graveyard.

 As Talion approached the exploded collector, the singing faded and the golden procession faded back into dust and memory. He turned to Mira one last time and she smiled at him, hugging him one last time as if the speak the goodbye he had never gotten to say... then she, too, returned to dust and memory.

 It took him several moments to collect himself, even in the presence of the collector... but, finally, he turned to look at him. "Sariel is trying to revive himself using the Collector as a host."

 He patted the now catatonic creature on the shoulder. "Couldn't have happened to anyone more deserving."

 Talion shoved lightly on the Collector's shoulder, letting him fall like a log to the ground. It was malicious, perhaps, but cathartic nonetheless. Talion popped his neck. "Looks like the time for playing by the rules is over. Hold on tight because things are about to get rough."

 He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and began to chant. It was an alien language, similar to Atlantean chants... but different... and Atlantean runes began to glow about Talion's head.


 He raised his hand and spoke a ginal word, completing the incantation. "Antigenesis!"

 The space where Talion touched with his outstretched hand turned dark and grey, expanding outward, destroying existing planar boundaries and replacing them with traversable space. Within seconds, it expanded to nearly 10ft in diameter... but it was rapidly continuing to expand.

 But, more than that, it opened into the next room...

 He took a deep breath before stepping over the ashes and dust of annihilated space.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:55, Thu 13 Aug 2020.

Mistral was stunned when a rush of lost memories came flooding back into her mind.  It was a deluge of events, things and people she had entirely forgotten until they were returned by the memory-thieving Collector.  She remarked idly to Sal, "A clever ploy, to harvest memories we were no longer aware we had forgotten..."  There did remain a particular absence that she'd bargained away to Hat-man Jack, however...

Then Talion reunited with the golden memory of a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to him.  A daughter lost to death and time, if she had to guess.  The whole scene was poignant in a strange way, and even stone-hearted Mistral felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she walked with the golden procession.  It ended with the multitudes fading away, leaving them with a catatonic caretaker to be unceremoniously-but-deservedly shoved by Talion.

Mistral said, "These rules were disagreeable, en tout cas.  Do as you will, Monsieur.  I will be ready.  She hadn't gotten a name from the strange fellow with the threads, but she could only assume that had been Sariel.  When Talion's terrifyingly mighty magic began to burn a hole in the Collector and its planar bindings, Mistral followed.

Notes!

Once Talion had broken down the planar structure of the Collector to a sufficient degree Mistral regained the power to perceive and manipulate space, though this space was still very different from the reality she was accustomed to.  She explained, "This reality is asynchrone.  Spatially non-linear, and likely problematic for one's equilibrium.  Importantly, however, the Doctor is here.  I have traced her sympathy, for the first time since she went missing.  Follow, if you would."

Once they had all transitioned to the adjacent cube Mistral led them unerringly toward Dr. Lennis's sympathetic signal.  If the distance was too vast to arrive quickly, she would instead conjure a mist-limned portal to cross most of the intervening space.

Sal angrily kicked the fallen caretaker, and responded to Mistral, "I don't appreciate any rules that permit stealing from one guests. Now let's get out of here before this realm collapses around us." After her explanation of local space, which surprisingly, he had already assumed to be the case, even if he didn't quite understand how it worked, he followed Mistral without another word.

 Talion's eyes were still red from his emotional ordeal in the past two rooms but he straitened notable at the mention that Mistral had located her sympathy. He followed, eyes scanning the white expanse frantically for any sign of her.

 As they walked, he spoke, though he seemed a bit distracted by the search. "Thank you, both of you. I do not believe I would have been able to look into the faces of all those I've failed were I alone."

"You're welcome. I know what it is to have failed people, myself. I didn't want to add you and the doctor to that list." Truly, in many ways, looking at Talion was like seeing a much older, much more powerful version of himself.

https://www.dropbox.com/s/0yfk...nal%20audio.mp3?dl=0


https://soundcloud.com/desktop-adonis/final-audio

Something only Sal can see:
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:35, Sat 15 Aug 2020.

 Talion stepped forward upon seeing Emily... now a pale husk of herself, her vitality stolen by the Collector... a shadow in a snow white room. When she asked her question, he did not answer. He could not answer... and now they knew why.

 He closed his eyes and slumped his shoulders. For all the power he wielded, he could not answer the woman he loved. He could not save her, even though he was within arm's reach. She looked at him as understanding dawned across her face... and, in that last moment of understanding, all that she was drained away, leaving nothing more than a living doll sitting in a chair.

 Ignoring the contract and the card for the time being, he lifted her empty shell from the chair. His breathing strained, not from exertion, but from trying not to cry, to scream, to rail against everything around him...

 … because Mistral and Sal were nearby. If he let it out now, all of them would die... so he held it inside.

 He turned to his two companions, who had braved this nightmare with him and handed Emily's limp form to Mistral. She was light... impossibly so, just like the Collector said she would be. Talion's eyes were empty now, his voice broken. He could not quite bring himself to fully look at either of them, ashamed of his own weakness. "Take her to Noah. Take her to the Observatory... this will show you the way."

 He handed her a compass and hung his head as he turned away, picking up the Collector's contract with Emily. "This world is collapsing. Go. I will try to retrieve as many of her memories as I can."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:01, Sat 15 Aug 2020.

Sal placed a hand on Talion's shoulder, looked him in the eye, and gave a determined nod, but didn't say a word. Words couldn't help here, it seemed. They could only make things worse. He followed Mistral once again.

Arriving at Doctor Lennis might have been impossible, had there not been an invisible sympathetic pattern traced through the void.  Then, there she was.  Pale and drawn from whatever sufferings she'd endured since her disappearance, yet with only one contractually-bound question to speak.  Mistral's elation fell away as Emily gave voice to the question, revealing the diabolical Catch-22 in which the Collector had ensnared the both of them.  He had wanted nothing but to find her, to speak with her, but now to do so would doom all of the universe, her included.  He had no choice but to keep silent and watch her soul be drained, left devastated by the guilt of causing it by his own inaction.  He'd been given no choice, but that was cold comfort now.

Mistral was still in a state of shock when Talion passed her the brittle husk that had been Doctor Lennis.  It was like carrying a bundle of sticks, but yet some semblance of life still flickered low within.  Mistral stared from this empty doll back to Talion and muttered, "Non... this can not be how it ends, after everything."  She took the compass, then called after Talion, "If the memories remain in this realm I can help to find them, just as I found her.  After all we have endured to make it this far, I will not allow this place to have her.  I cannot allow the Collector to win."  There were tears running down Mistral's pale cheeks, yet there remained a cold determination in her eyes.

 The effort of containing his emotions left Talion numb. It was as if some imaginary or magical "safety switch" had shut his emotions down. He looked at the two of them, eyes devoid of emotion. Still, he acknowledged Sal and the comfort his gesture brought.

 He didn't speak, instead letting the sound of a crumbling dimensional boundary speak for him. When he did speak, it was softly... as if the action itself were a great strain. "Her body is fragile right now. If she dies, then all of this will be for nothing."

 He looked one last time at Emily and then at Mistral... but he could not look at them for long. Instead, he raised his hand and placed it down on the ground... in much the same manner you both had seen Grey do.

 This time a portal opened beneath him... but it was odd, very different from the portals Mistral normally opened. He fell through and rolled into a dive. Mistral had been in this between space before and knew how inimical to life it was... but the portal he'd opened did not close just yet.

 Far below them, Mistral and Sal could see what seemed to be a warehouse of boxes... but it was very far away.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:18, Mon 17 Aug 2020.

After Talion dropped into the portal, Sal said to Mistral, "Lets hurry and follow that compass. The doctor had faith in Talion, and he has faith in us. lets see that it was not misplaced."

Noah, for his part, had been sitting inside the door that was entry and exit to the Collector. If he moved it would have been able to close the way and lock everyone away forever. He had been sitting there watching with Omni sight and dragon sight so he looked blind with the starbursts behind his eyes.

But still, he waited, he knew better than to snatch Mistral away until she was good and ready.

The truth of the matter was plain to see on Talion's face.  He and Sariel were best-equipped to recover what pieces of her might remain in this place before unraveling it from within, and she and Sal would be of little help.  What's more, unless they got Emily out soon they'd be destroyed along with her.  Mistral shared a knowing look with Talion and said, "Very well.  No need to ask for a promise to destroy every vile work of the Collector, is there?  You require no permission from moi."  She nodded gravely to Sal and then said, "We shall see her safely away.  Do what you must, Talion.  Au revoir."

Mistral allowed Talion one final moment with the gaunt husk of Dr. Lennis in her arms, then turned away with Sal to find the way out.

 As Talion had never shut the doors behind him, retracing their steps was not hard. Only the room containing Emily had been warded against portalling. However, there was little time remaining to navigate the spiral, forcing them to run as the realm collapsed around them, leaping through the threshold of the first door as the ground gave way beneath them.

 The second room was much larger in comparison, but it was already breaking down, forcing Mistral to open a portal to traverse the distance safely. As she exited the other end of the portal, she could see the galactic scale graveyard dissolving into nothing behind her and Talion in freefall in the distance, finally reaching the warehouse of memories.

 By comparison, the last room was much smaller and Sal had not seen this one. It was filled with alien scents, an alien sky, and unknown flora... but, being the oldest of the rooms, was in an advanced state of decay. Planar boundaries were already beginning to dissolve, forcing Mistral to open another portal and the two of them to make a flying leap in order to carry them across the threshold.

 Talion's door was closed but dissolving quickly. With enough strength, it might be forced open.

OOC: need a strength + athletics roll to open the original entry point. 5 total successes needed to break the door. Each round you take will cause Mistral, Sal, and Emily to take 1 point of unsoakable lethal damage. It is unclear how much damage Emily will be able to sustain before she dies.

Mistral would have loved to study the structure of this realm, and the ways in which it harvested thoughts to be reconstructed into reality.  There was much that could be learned here, but knowledge would be of little use to them if their Patterns were unraveled and scattered into the void.

Through splintering memories and dissolving worlds Sal and Mistral fled with Emily in arms, leaping through portals across spaces no longer suitable for passage.  At last they arrived at an alabaster door inlaid with golden astronomical symbols, now shivering as the reality containing it fell apart.  Mistral launched herself at the door with a kick, but failed to make it budge.  She staggered back and adjusted her hold upon the Doctor's husk, then said to Sal, "This is our only exit, but it must be forced open.  If we fail, no part of any of us survives."

---

02:13, Today: Mistral failed (no successes) using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1,5,5.  Str + Athletics.

Yikes!  Let's see those muscles, Sal :P

Sal gave the door a shove, but be was more nimble than strong, and had no idea what he was doing, really.

14:25, Today: Sal rolled 1 success using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9.  Str+athletics.

Sal somehow made it this far without ever being trained in athletics :o

Next round, he'll use some vitae to boost his strength if Mistral doesn't somehow pull 4 successes out of somewhere. I should have done it this round, but I didn't think of it until after I rolled...

 The two bashed against the door in futility as reality dissolved around them. The two felt searing pain as the realm tried to dissolve them. Emily vocalized a soft groan of pain... though she was unable to do more. Looking into her eyes it was clear that no one was home anymore.

 Still, her empty shell clung tenaciously to life... but, for how much longer?

Mistral winced as the reality around them continued to fray, and began to gradually shred them along with it.  "Take her," she said to Sal, holding Emily's catatonic form out for him to carry in her place.

Once she'd offloaded their charge for the moment, Mistral reached into a space between spaces and withdrew a long knife, drawing the blackened blade from its sheath as she pulled it into reality.  With a whispered supernal word the mono-molecular cutting edge began to glow as she took a wide stance and took a two-handed grip.  Mistral raised ‘Défaiseur’, the 'Unmaker,' overhead and then brought it down in a precise, decisive slash directly at the door's apparent weakest point!

---

Spending 1 mana to empower the blade, then slicing at the door with a Willpower:

• 21:16, Today: Mistral rolled 3 successes using 10d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9,4,6,2,3,6,10(+7),8,6,7.  Magical knife door-breach (+WP).

Gosh dang it!  That's 4 total successes :(  only 1 more needed, so give it another go, Sal!

OOC: assuming you haven't eaten any of your mana candy, you haven't recharged on Tass yet. Also, since Sal got 1 success, all you needed were 4 more :P

 Mistral stabbed into the door and, once she reached the part of the door that Sal had shouldered, the door sliced neatly in twain, allowing them to step into the new space where Noah was waiting, holding the door open.

 The group was able to escape the warehouse as it collapsed behind them, leaving Talion (and perhaps Sariel trapped beneath the rubble). The last you saw of him was that he was still rummaging through the warehouse boxes even as reality dissolved around him.

 Now you stood in front of the rubble of the ruined museum. You had defeated the Colector… You had found Emily... and, in the silence, the slight click of the compass Talion had given Mistral could be heard. It pointed the way to the Observatory.

When the trio came out Noah spread his wings to cover them as a field of his barriers dropped just encase there was some kind of odd planar backlash. A backlash that never ended up showing up. Noah tilted his head and was making measured expressions. "If you are ready then I can take you back to the truck in the real world. Or do you have other needs?" He saw a good chunk of what happened but he couldn't hear what was said.

"They key-way shouldnt do her any harm..."

The alabaster door fell away in two neatly-sheared halves, and Mistral stepped out of the threshold.  She sheathed the meteoric iron blade as she strode toward Noah, who she was relieved to see even if she tried not to show it.  As Sal followed through with Dr. Lennis in arms she said, "We must leave here and find the Observatory.  Talion is preoccupied and will not be joining us.  Explanations must wait."  Mistral urged Sal to bring Emily to the opened rosewood door, holding Talion's compass in one hand.  Mistral rested her other hand on Emily's ankle as they passed through the strange portal, in case she experienced any bad spatial interactions needing to be countered.

Noah inclined his head to Mistral and his tail reached around to touch the same place in between her shoulder blades. He held up the fea enchanted lock that allowed passage into the realm and piggybacked on her spell to ensure the hedge would not snatch her portal from her. "There is no one more able to get her there than you. No one better to protect her than you both."

 The portal led the group to a storage shed. Rusted tools were propped up around the outside and it seemed as though it had been abandoned. However, the presence of the compass allowed another portal to open, granting access to the Observatory.

 It had been powered down and the only active portal was the one they stepped through, but it promptly closed once they were through, leaving them in the dark in the large room. Without power, the group could hear the enraged howling and disturbing whispers of the Abyss on the other side of the walls.

 Emily responded to nothing and the oppressive darkness was stifling.

Noah started breathing heavy just enough to get a blue glow going. Once he had a candle worth of flame going he went into his side bag and started cracking glow sticks to pass out. "I would advise from using anything that could invoke paradox. Without power the abyss is just looking for an excuse to come roaring in."

He tapped on his chest but Greys link wouldnt get back to her main mass in between realms. "If you think I can make s few dragon stones. Adding mana to her pattern may help stabilize her pattern a tad."

Sal gently placed Emily over one shoulder so he had a free hand. He accepted a glow stick, sticking it through a loop in the front of his body armor. "Would it be unwise then, to have Mistral summon up my sword?"

To Noah's expression of confidence in their ability to protect Dr. Lennis, Mistral replied with less conviction than his, "I hope that you are correct.  Allons-y."

They passed from the fae realms that Mistral had grown to rather despise, and arrived in what had once been the Observatory, now a darkened hollow surrounded on all sides by the howling Abyss.  She answered Sal as she peered through the gloom by the dim blue glow of Noah's dragonfire, "Unwise, yes.  If you require a sword in this place, then we will have larger problems."  Mistral began to pace the chamber, searching along hidden trails of arcane sigils for any clues as to how function might be restored to this place.

As she searched she said, "Talion asked that we bring her to you, mon dragon, and to bring her here... but did not mention why.  Her memories and will were scattered into the Collector, and he now tries to regather the pieces before it that place is destroyed."

 The large hall was covered in various arcane and alien engravings upon its surfaces, laced with magic of near unfathomable complexity. There were no obvious signs of how to restore this place's functionality.

 However, minutes later, the portal leading to the Fallen World opened and in stepped Atlas with Grey in tow.

 Grey took her place beside Mistral and Noah as Atlas stepped into the center of the room and placed his hand upon a circular stone in the center of the Observatory. From there, the runes flared to life and systems began to come back online.

 As the Observatory came back online, Atlas returned to you. "I recieved a notification that the Observatory had been breached from Arcadia."

 He stopped, looked at Emily's catatonic form and at the compass. His luminous form did not seem surprised. "I see. That explains a great deal."

 He re-opened the Arcadian portal and began using it as a scrying device. Without error, he located Talion, who was still inside. Reality around him had collapsed completely. His resplendant clothing had begun to dissolve, revealing a grizzled and scar-ridden body beneath. His arms were engraved with the burned scars of searing chains having been wrapped around his flesh. Evidence of burns, fangs, claws, stabs, gunshots, and whips remain etched forever upon his body... scars of war for daring to do exactly what he was doing now... and it was likely he would earn a few more today as the hostile reality scoured his flesh away while he searched for the last reaining memory before streaking toward the surface and tearing his way through the dimensional boundary, his body smoking and bleeding from the hostile reality.

 Without displaying any reaction from his wounds, he looked at Atlas's portal and stepped through with a crate of Emily's memories. He sat down the crate and let out a deep breath, taking a moment to recover.

Sal greeted Atlas and Grey. When the lights came on, Sal dropped his light stick, looked for a suitable place to rest Emily's body, and lay her down gently. When the next portal opened, he looked at Talion, and wondered how many times he'd been through such an ordeal.

Noah shrugged, "Not sure why Talion would tell you to bring her to me beyond the holder and the operator of the lock. The hedge is about as frustrating to move through as the people it contains." He looked around at the altered golden road. "The pathway here is cut off from all outside elements. The moment the door closed to Arcadia any connection left behind by the collector to drain her would have snapped like a thread."

"Outside of that, I can only assume its because I am a walking leyline, otherwise your guess is as good as mine." He snapped the talon of his right hand a few times to let it spark before he lowered to cover the Doctors torso with it. He sllooowwwlllyyyyyy let some of his ever-present mana defeuse into her pattern. If a mage can scour their pattern for mana, it was likely mana could thicken a similar pattern. "Reintegration of memory has been done before but I have to have the memories and an adaptor."

He gave Grey a smile and gently picked her up for shoulder rides.

When Talion showed up he trundled over to the outer god and placed the same talon on his shoulder, dumping the entire volume of his own mana collection save one. "We have you. Where do you want the box taken."

Mistral turned as the way opened again behind them, wary that some remnant of the Collector and its caretakers might have followed.  She was relieved to see that it was Atlas and Grey, whose assistance would be welcome.  Mistral showed Talion's compass to Atlas and explained, "We were given la clé, and came by the fastest route."  She shared a look and a faint smile with Grey, then fondly ruffled her silvery hair.

Soon enough they watched back through the portal at Talion heroically fighting the crumbling realm until he burst through, ragged and bloody, with Emily's memories tucked under an arm.  Mistral went to Talion as he stopped to recover, and said earnestly, "Take a moment's respite, Monsieur.  We will see that these are returned to the doctor."  She put a hand on the crate of memories, giving Talion a look to get his consent before taking it.  Mistral then went to where Sal had laid Dr. Lennis's empty remnant, and set the crate down carefully near her.  She began to theorize quickly on the fly, "I may work to restore her soul, while Noah reintegrates the memories.  Sal, perhaps your powers of command might be used to encourage her to fight, and to retake what was stolen."

Mistral looked upon the memories with the second sight and searched for the remnants of Dr. Lennis's spirit, so that it might be reassembled and returned to its rightful owner.

---

Wits + Spirit + Investigation to try to recover from the memories Dr. Lennis's soul, or whatever spiritual essence may have been sapped from her:

• 00:35, Today: Mistral rolled 2 successes using 9d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1,2,5,7,8,5,8,2,1.  Wits + Spirit + Investigation.

 Atlas took the compass and Grey received the attention from Noah and Mistral with great exuberance, hugging Mistral tightly and clinging tightly to Noah as he gave her a ride.

 Talion tore a piece off of his shredded pants to wipe the blood from his reality-scoured body as he took a moment to catch his breath. He waved off Noah's attempt to infuse him with prime, holding up the bloody rag that had nearly fully crystallized into tass.

 However, as Mistral opened the box, she found that the spheres containing Emily's memories was filled only with dust... much the same as the case she had taken from the Collector was.

 Talion had not yet even managed to stop the bleeding before he was at Emily's side. He reached inside the crate, staring emptily as the dust of her memories fell through his fingers.

 Grey had climbed down and was approaching Talion when he finally spoke. "Atlas, open the door to the second floor of the Observatory."

 He stood slowly, looking back at Mistral, Noah and Sal. His voice had no energy left. "Would one of you carry her? I need to release my seals. It wouldn't be safe if I carried her."

 Meanwhile, Atlas opened a hidden panel and entered a code, opening a sliding door that hadn't been there before. On the other side was a shimmering white-blue expanse with the same glow as Atlas himself. Even Sal, who had no sense for mana, could feel the intense energies emanating from within.

 Grey looked at the door, then at Talion. "Father? Are you going to show them the World Tree? Should I get the ship and carry us?"

 Talion shook his head ever-so-slightly. "We won't be going that far."

Sal nodded, and gently picked up Emily's body.

Noah tried to run his fingers through his hair but ended up grinding claw on horn. "Active sublimation, yikes." When Talion stood and started talking about breaking seals and the world tree Noah opened his wings wide and cast a rote spell. Hole in the middle was designed to let the passive disruptive nature of that much power slip around the barrier.

When Sal picked the doctor up Noah stepped close enough that his wing span covered him and anyone else who was going and needed protection.

He had no idea what was going to happen but dragons and world trees rarely got along.

Mistral took on a despairing look as she watched the memory spheres crumble away to ash, just like all the rest of the Collector's works.  To recover who Dr. Lennis was from barren dust seemed tantamount to an impossibility.  Then again, they had recently restored a young woman's soul from beyond death and bodily destruction alike.

She watched as Sal picked up the faded waif that was Emily, and stood alongside him as the hidden door was opened.  Mistral was uncertain what to expect beyond this point, but was resolved to face it nonetheless.  Beneath the shelter of Noah's wings, she strode forward to step through the shimmering threshold.

---

Mist's player knows some stuff about the world tree from mythology, but what does Mist know about world trees in the World of Darkness? :P

• 02:40, Today: Mistral rolled 4 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 10(+5),5,5,10(+3),9,9,6.  Int + Occult + spec.

 Talion stepped through first, walking some distance in front of the group. Atlas led the group and Grey took up a place in the middle of them.

 As they stepped through the door, they found themselves in a dimension of pale blue radiance and the air filled with with particles of light. The luminous stairway upon which they found themselves was titanic in scope, large enough that one could not see the other side despite the pale luminocity that pervaded the entire structure.

 The center was dominated by a pillar of flowing light, a beam that extended both up and down as far as the eye could see... a beam composed entirely of mana.

 The stairway upon which they found themselves seemed to be made of a hybrid of wood and crystal... and still alive, it pulsed rhythmically with a heartbeat all its own.

 Within the crystalline wood structure could be seen veins, pulsing and pumping liquid mana through the veins of the World Tree.

 Likewise, the tree was covered with webbing of a manner almost identical to the veil that Mistral still wore... the only thing that had not yet disintegrated. Tiny spiderlike entities crawled across the various surfaces, weaving their webbing in intricate patterns along the walls.


 Once inside, the chains (also composed of mana) wrapped around Talion's body finally became visible, each shaped as a large logging chain with a massive padlock binding it together. In his right hand flared to life keys of a smiliar material.

 As he undid the first lock, his form changed into that familiar black creature with multiple arms and a skull head. With the second, it grew wings of blue fire... but, when he unlocked the third the black turned blue and the skull covered in flesh. Even from their distance, the group could feel a force pushing back against them as Talion's Pattern became visible to the naked eye... even Sal could see Talion's soul expanding beyond the confines of his body, like a protective shell.

 However, upon breakin the fourth seal upon himself, the small (roughly the size of a small dog) spiders turned hostile, launching themselves at him... but they exploded upon reaching a short distance from him, their bodies engulfed in blue fire.

 The spiders did not attack anyone else... apparently the phobia that Grey exudes extended to the spider creatures as well.

 During this time, Atlas spoke. His tone was something akin to that of a tour guide. "Behold, the Stairwell of the Gods, the pathway by which creatures of divinity enter and exit realities. It connects to the World Tree like a stem connects a piece of fruit. This is the Origin of Mana, the river by which life and reality itself coalesce into a dimension.

 The spiders you see are called 'Glasswalkers', a term coined by the late Sariel, Talion's mentor, and the first known pioneer into hyperdimensional metaphysics. Glasswalker silk is a mana conductor and the Glasswalkers form a symbiotic relationship with reality, diffusing mana into reality itself, forming the basis for Axioms and the fundamental laws of reality.

 When a mage speaks a word of power, they are imbuing a Glasswalker thread with power. When they move their fingers in arcane gestures, they are strumming Glasswalker threads... and, when a mage breaks reality, it is the Glasswalkers who come for them."

Noah was absolutely beside himself when it came to the volume of magic present. The critters, the threads, the transformations... He was a fat kid in Wonka's factory without supervision and he had just taken his medicine. If not for the fact he had a barrier that he could only roll around with his wings up protecting an innocent person, he would have already dove off the side to go poke around at the tree.

It was such a distraction that he did not notice he had started glowing like a blue ember. The baseline for the body that was made for him was a comet dragon. With the abundance of raw source and mana he was glowing from the core of the matter that made him.

He kept pace with the group to make sure the Hole in the Middle kept up so Talions power, spiders, or other things couldn't get to them. But he absolutely pulled out his slate and started recording the conversation. He even went so far to take pictures like a giant tourist.

Sal looked in awe. He said, half-jokingly, "Could I perhaps record what we see here, as well? After telling him about the land of the dead, Neverland, and teleporting to Paris, the Prince has questioned my sanity. I would of course, share it with no living soul."

Mistral was floored by the incomprehensibly vast arcane majesty of the Stairwell of the Gods.  Though she appreciated Atlas's explanation and listened closely to it, she didn't need to be told that this place was a keystone of reality itself, because any Awakened would know it instantly.  She knelt to study the skittering Glasswalkers and their intricate webs of supernal threads.  The patterns were intuitively familiar to her, because she had been unknowingly interacting with them ever since her Awakening, albeit from the other side.  Mistral studied the various transcendent phenomena of this realm alongside Noah, sharing his enthusiasm for the wonders on display and comparing observations.

To Sal's question, she answered "I doubt that any recording of this place could transfer to our world.  If it did, then it would appear as nonsense to the eye of any who saw it.  Those who peered too closely would risk madness."

With some apprehension, Mistral observed the unchaining of the more imposing aspects of Talion's form, and wondered at what he meant to do.  She looked to the soul-sapped waif that was Dr. Lennis and then asked, "Will this allow you to restore her, Monsieur Apocalypse?"  As much as Mistral liked Emily personally, to breach the foundations of creation itself to restore the life of one mortal woman was an act of extravagant hubris.  Mistral could only hope that Talion knew what he was doing, and that he was of sound enough mind to do it.  The last time he was this upset he had leveled New York City, so there was certainly reason to worry.

Sal smiled, not the toothless smile he was forced to use around the Kine, but a genuine, friendly smile, that-- despite his fangs-- almost failed to seem the slightest bit threatening, and then said, straight-faced, with the deadpan delivery of a vaudeville straight-man, (not that his friends would remember Vaudeville, it died long before Sal did,) "Then perhaps the Prince is right. I've already lost my mind."

 Talion stopped only for a moment, half turning to look at the group behind him. His posture, even as transcendant as it was, bowed by the weight of his sorrow. Talion's face was no longer a skull. Instead, it flared with the power of creation. His eyes were swirling globes of golden radiance and his mere gaze made everything heavier... as though the weight he bore was now a physical thing. Fortunately, Noah's spell protected against the brunt of it, though the barrier itself nearly cracked beneath the weight of his gaze.

 When he noticed, he quickly averted his gaze and the pressure ceased. "Yes."

 As Talion moved forward, Atlas once more began to speak. "This place transcends the fifth dimension, existing within the sixth. Most recording devices will pick up little of what transpires here. You may try, of course... but I cannot say what you will have."

 Atlas had little time to continue on his tour, however, because they then came to another door. The first thing that drew your attention was a massive statue of purest black, seeming almost to bend light around it dominating the center of the room. In its chest, eyes, shoulders, and knees were what seemed to be glass spheres with miniature galaxies within.

 The next thing Mistral and Noah noticed was that they no longer had access to magic. There were no threads to pull here, no reality to manipulate... and so, no magic.

 Then to the architecture of what seemed to be marble and basalt, forming a room with a very Greek or Roman aesthetic, peering out into...

 … Atlas quickly re-directed the portals, shaping them such that they formed a composite picture of a large, webbed sphere below you. "What lies beyond the Sphere is not for the uninitiated... even the Awakened to see. It is the realm from which things far worse than Star Vampires come. Even strong minds break if they are not ready.

 What you see is the Sphere. Beneath the webbing at the base of the Stairwell is the Aether. The other Supernal Realms exist beneath the webbing on the outside of the sphere, with the Fallen World in the center, surrounded by the Abyss. Just as the Supernal Reams transcend the laws of the Fallen world, so too does the Observatory transcend the laws of the Supernal. Here, the Words of Creation can be spoken."

 However, Talion's Pattern expanded yet again as he unlocked the fifth seal. Blue became gold, concentrating the blue only in his eyes and the flaming crown atop his head. His Pattern expanded to fill the Observatory and, once more Mistral and Noah could feel their magic return. Unlike before, within the confines of a conflicting reality, there was no pressure driving anyone away and he could finally approach the group. He did so, carefully lifting Emily's fragile form from Sal's arms and taking her to a dais overlooking the portals. He did not look at them but, when he spoke, the group could hear him strain to contain the sadness in his voice.

"Thank you... for helping me find her. Sal, I'll find a way to repay you later but Mistral, Noah... the greatest thing I can do for you is teach you the Words of Creation. Watch, and listen."

https://youtu.be/HK0VOeau_gs

 Talion took a deep, shuddering breath, reaching up to brush away a stray lock of hair from her face as he produced the wedding ring he'd been saving, placing it upon her chest as he strummed the strings of his own pattern, eliciting lights and vibrations that could be heard and felt sympathetically. With his voice, he began to sing. He wasn't very good at it. His voice stuttered, on the verge of weeping... but still, he sang.

 You did not know the words, but you could feel them and the message they conveyed. His love, his sorrow, his anguish... and his honest desire for her to live happily.

 As he sang and strummed upon his own pattern, you could see in the portals that the glow from his pattern rippled out like waves across the surface of the web covering the sphere. The wedding ring evaporated into golden vapor along with the contract of the Collector... and finally, Emily herself.

 With the spell cast, Talion slumped over the dais as he forced his pattern back within himself... from gold to blue, from blue to black, wings vanishing, and, finally, back into human form.

 For now, he just stood there, slumped over the dais, defeated.

 From the side, Atlas spoke. "It is done. To undo the contract, the Master made sure that it was never written... but, to do so required an equal sacrifice. To create a world where she would never be obligated by the Fey, he had to sacrifice the reality in which she fell in love with him."

Sal gained a new admiration for Talion. He was certain that he'd never be able to make such a sacrifice.

Not sure if active spells failed.

Noah watched with direct and focused attention. He also rode that thread of mental connection he had with Mistral in the event she also wanted to see the magic being used with Omni-sight. The words could not be forgotten so there would be much in the way of research to do. Still, with all that happened Noah sighed. "And now I am sure he is the Hero. The hero is the one who pays the price." He stepped forward with his full weight not knowing if his normal mass mitigation would even work so he didn't use it.

He looked at Mistral as he walked toward Talion. He never wanted to forget her, it was worth the suffering in his mind. But this was not his choice to make. "Grey, please do me a favor and prepare a room for Talion on the ship. He will be staying with family for a bit. Now is not the time to be alone."

He pulled from his side pack a pair of mesh gloves that looked as if they had been nearly destroyed into slag. The perfected metal mesh he used to walk through Talion's mana reactor. He was fairly sure there was no risk but he did not survive by doing stupid things ignorantly. He put a talon on Talion's shoulder as he sat down behind the man. Not saying anything further and just waiting.

 OOC: When the group entered the top layer of the observatory, all active magic turned off. Noah activated his magic again when Talion expanded his Pattern but it turned off again when he crammed it back inside of himself.

Mistral looked on at the frightening power exuding from Talion in his grief, and struggled to retain her dispassion in the face of an arcane spectacle the likes of which had probably not been seen since Atlantis fell.  She turned her attention toward the study of the midnight statue with its cosmic spheres, and the grandiose architecture of its vault.  They looked upon the webbed sphere that contained all that ever was, and more, crackling with layers of fractal arcane complexity.  These were sights no mortal was ever meant to see, and Mistral drank them in as Atlas explained.

The fifth seal broke and magic returned as Talion became both more and less.  His power had grown tenfold, yet he now could take Emily with extraordinary gentleness.  It was difficult to comprehend thanks coming from this titan of phenomenal power, but Mistral replied with what grace she could muster, "De rien, though I merely showed the door...  Nonetheless, I will not miss this."  His sorrowful song and the sacrifice shook the very roots of reality, and by its end Mistral discovered that she had been silently weeping.  Perhaps it was the parallel to her own forgotten sacrifice in the goblin market, except that this was noble and true while hers was petty and destructive.  Perhaps it was bittersweet knowledge that Dr. Lennis could have another chance, even without Talion.  Whatever their cause, Mistral failed to keep the tears at bay.

Mistral glanced to Noah, then stepped in beside Talion and extended a hesitant hand.  She clasped his shoulder in awkward support, but words failed her even more than they usually did.

Now the question was... how had spacetime been altered to bring about this change?  Had time itself been rewound to before Talion and Emily had ever met?  They would find out, Mistral supposed.

 With the seals forced back upon him, Mistral and Noah found themselves touching only the reality scoured and bloody flesh of a body pushed beyond mortal limits.

 He remained silent for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "I am certain that you have many more questions... and I will answer all that you have. You have earned that much, at least... but I would like to ask you to wait until I've had a shower and a nap first."

 His attempt at humor fell a bit flat, but it was clear that he had no more emotional energy to expend. He pushed himself back up into a standing position and took another deep breath. "Alright, lets go."

 Talion and Atlas led the group back down the Stairwell of the Gods. The more they studied the (massive, comparatively) spiders and their reality-webbing, the more that the esoteric parts of their spellcasting began to "click" in a more concrete manner. Whereas before, it had always been image training, now they had a concrete concept regarding how magic truly functioned...

 … it was so much less complex than any mage had ever made it out to be.

 … and now they could understand why Talion spoke to accomplished mages as though they were children.


… and, once more they found themselves in the Observatory proper... while still on a Golden road, composed of the Leaden Tower itself, suspended over the abyss, powered by a black hole, and containing portals to all the supernal realms... it was somehow mundane now compared to the majesty that they had just witnessed.

 Atlas opened one of the scrying windows and there Emily was, fast asleep in bed as if nothing had ever happened. Talion smiled a weary, bittersweet smile. "All of this. Everything that has happened to her. Our meeting, her Awakening, and all of the terrible things that have happened since will be nothing more to her now than a vivid dream... and that, too, will fade in time.

 And the Collector?"

 The last bit was a change in tone and directed at Atlas. He brought up another image of the Museum of the Collector still in shambles. "It seems that the Museum is caught in a time paradox."

 Talion stared at the portal mirror and laughed. "Well, how about that? Seems like a Earth will be greeting a new god in the coming weeks. Let's hope he doesn't completely tear away the Veil when he wakes up. And Pan?"

 Atlas replied. "Peter Pan was never killed and Hook, along with the children were never rescued."

 He nodded again. "I see. Mistral, what about the boy who's memory you traded. Can you remember him?"


 Regardless, once he had his answers, he exited the Observatory back into the Fallen World... and, now that they had seen the vibrant webs of the Glasswalkers, they knew what to look for. The threads here in Talion's domain were vibrant and new, but carried nowhere near the mana capacity of the Glasswalkers in the Stairwell.

 As they exited Talion's main complex, they could see that the courtyard of the campus had been cleared and cleaned. It was now occupied. "With the reality shift, I was released from prison much sooner and the college has been reopened. Reconstruction of the city will be accelerated slowly."

 Once away from enough people, Grey used the Kaiju system (which she had apparently brought with her) to transport them back to the S.S. Grey... which was still blue.

 … but now it was docked at an island which wasn't there before. On the island was a geode the size of a mansion that had been carved out on the inside to make a house out of amethyst.

 Grey grinned. "I got bored so I made a house. Also, I delivered cookies to some people, met two meanies in a jet, and found a bunch of synths that need helping!"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:06, Fri 28 Aug 2020.

Once everyone started moving and they came back into the fibers Noah slowed slightly and clenched his body. Crystals formed under his scales and started to push their way out. The process of making dragon stones was quick and useful in a place of abundance. And given what just happened they may need some mana on the spot.

When the mirrors came up Noah was watching closely. "The wound is fresh, a brighter day will come." He frowned at the collector, not a CareTaker in sight. "The level of danger presented by your friend to resist a reality-altering root spell... Not exactly sure what it is. There is really only one God, the creator of this reality. It will be interesting to figure it out."

He smiled at Grey, "It is a very nice home and island. Have you named it yet? Shall I tap the local leyline for you here as well? I'm thinking we could catch a few very large fish to stock up the kitchen if you like."

Sal remained quiet until Grey showed up. Her cheerful energy was infectious, and even a vampire wasn't immune."I see you've been busy, Grey. Good work!" Sal said.

It was good to see Talion beginning to come to terms with his loss, as the alternative was rather disastrous.  She answered his humor with a similarly poor jest of her own, albeit a well-meaning one, "Oui, you must have that shower and nap.  You look fatal."  Mistral looked back at the Stairwell of the Gods as they made to depart, and considered its majesty.  This place had laid bare the true workings of reality and exposed the needless complexities introduced my mankind's limited understanding.  She left with the others, but knew that she could never look at magic the same way again.

Back in the Observatory, Mistral felt some degree of relief to see Dr. Lennis safe in her ignorance of this harrowing ordeal.  She was surprised to hear that their foray into Neverland had been nullified, although she was aware that she remained a bane to Pan.  Mistral voiced the question that had been on her mind, "What else of the world has been turned back?  Dr. Lennis's disappearance came before the abduction and rescues of les enfants and the destruction of New York City.  Have these been reversed as well?"  That would seem too good to be true.

They asked after the memory Mistral had traded away to the vile Hat Man Jack, and she considered the question.  She looked back and found that the absence remained, filled only by the negative aspects of the excised memory.  Mistral looked down at the delicate rose vine gloves that still adorned her hands and shook her head.  "Non.  I cannot say how, but this contract has held."

More was discussed on the return voyage to the S.S. Grey, but Mistral kept to her own contemplations.  They returned to discover that Grey had been busy, as she ever was.  The glittering amethyst geode mansion was not even in the top five most incredible thing she'd seen today, but it was her favorite nonetheless.  Mistral turned to the elfin godling she'd adopted as a daughter and ruffled her silvery hair with a ghost of a smile, "Very well done, ma fille.  This is certainly the most beautiful home ever created."  Grey's explanations of the other things she'd been up to were adorably worrisome, so Mistral asked as she made toward the amethyst mansion, "Tell me about these friends you brought cookies to.  Did the jet... survive your meeting?"

 Talion gave a small laugh at Mistral's poor jest. "I suppose I do. Unfortunately, to change the destruction of New York would create a rip in reality. Far too much was affected to simply reverse it given the state of reality itself... but, there will be small things, here and there, that may be different."

 Grey grinned as her hair was ruffled, basking in the attention she was receiving. Inside the amethyst mansion, they found that sunlight had been let in and reflected around, suffusing the entire inside of the mansion in a soft, purple glow, negating the need for light. The only things not made of carved crystal were the beds (though the frames were). The mattresses were made of some form of nanofiber mesh that was both very soft and very supportive.

 Grey had also created a desalinator and solar powered water heater, supplying the geode mansion with hot water... something Talion availed himself quite readily as Grey explained herself. "Yes... but they threw their window at me! They were meanies. It made me drop most of my cookies!

 The other people were really nice. There was this one guy, really big, he went and got me coffee. He was really nice. One of them wanted to talk to Father... she didn't seem so nice. Then there were two more. One was a normal person and didn't seem surprised at anything and another one was a wizard!"

Noah started writing on one of his slates. "That means they still kidnapped the kids just not the doctor. So the storm still happened. However as the Collector is currently stuck in a paradox it also means there is a smidge of the whole thing still around, which is why we havent forgotten the ordeal yet."

"This also means we have little Tortuga in the hold. A small army of dead faries. We should still have the thorns to make Sal and scar some soul bane weapons." He looked at Mistral with a smile, "We could have the aircraft moved into the front hall, it would look amazing with all the light."

He tilted his head when Grey mentioned Synths that needed help. "Are they still there? We can hook up the bus and go see them after a good session of mutual comas." He would have offered to help make more cookies but he couldn't cook to save the world, and ate just about anything including building materials. He was the worst person to deal with cooking.

"I suggest we recuperate, train, and then go kill that bastard, Pan again. Maybe this time it will stick!" He then looked at Grey, "Just... we need to figure out a way to do it without Grey, or protect her from the temporal nonsense she went through last time."

Noah nodded, "Through our connection it felt like when I go through portals. Up starts spinning and direction becomes angry. With her it was like that but on another level." He pulled down the giant shirt of his to see the new scales on his shoulder. "If we do go kill him we need to be sure about it. At this point he has had nothing to do with Talion. It was the demons followers that snagged the kids. Though... they did have fetches replace the kids for some time as evidenced by the M I B agents footage. We should still have pictures of that. Perhaps he did have a hand in it all."

Sal said, "Pan still kidnaps children, we know where he lives, and we know we can kill him. How is his connection-- or lack thereof-- to Talion relevant? We promised Hook and his crew we'd save them. They remain unsaved."

 Grey looked at Sal with a bit of a resigned expression and a pout. "Yeah, I don't want to go back to Nevernever Land again. Thinking about it makes me wanna throw up."

Mistral was distracted from contemplation of altered timelines when Grey made a rather remarkable report of her recent activities.  She stared at the elfin godling for a long moment, then said, "Grey.  Jets only 'throw windows' when the crew are forced to eject to escape danger.  Is there une chance that your greeting may have been... misinterpreted?  Did you greet them from outside the jet during flight, peut-être?"  Mistral was intrigued by the descriptions of the people Grey had met, and had to wonder whether these people had been left terrified for their lives or extravagantly wealthy from one of Grey's economy-destabilizing trades.  She inquired, "Was this sorcier one present at the recent gathering of the Concilium?  What is it they wanted of your father, ma fille?"

The idea of putting Amelia Earhart's plane on display earned an approving nod from Mistral, but she said, "It must be kept in temporal stasis and protected from damage, however."

Returning to Neverland sounded similarly unappealing to Mistral, although this time they would be at a vast advantage.  Mistral said, "As Pan's bane it would be trivial to slay him once more, but I would prefer not to subject Grey to that realm again.  To win over Hook and his crew again and get them safely away, are different matters.  It must be weighed against other priorities."  Mistral looked around the opulent crystalline palace and realized how tired she was after the harrowing experience in both the goblin market and with the Collector.  "Respite and recuperation are the first of those priorities, to my mind.  Have you made chambers for us, Grey?"

 When asked if she had greeted the men inside the jet from outside during flight, she grinned. "Yes! They were flying with me so I decided to ask if they wanted cookies! Then they threw their window at me. Does that mean they were scared of me?"


OOC: aside from the conversation with Grey, this is /thread. XP is given out and I will be starting a new post as soon as I get my thoughts together (and some sleep)