Liam winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, Christ,” he said. “Robyn.” He held his spray bottle up by the base. “This. This is how you get what you want.”

He looked at her questioningly, praying she would bite.

"Fine," Robyn said sharply. She snatched the bottle, and pulled an exam glove from a box on the wall. She spritzed a little into the glove, and handed it to Corr. "Go plug that into your fancy machines and see what that does against the Fugue. Then come back and tell me who's the fucking dabbler."

Corr's lip curled, and he took the glove gingerly with two fingers. "Mr. Dietrich," he said as he walked away. "Make sure she's decent by the time I get back."

An invisible voice sighed behind them. "All right," Dietrich said. "We've got scrubs and fatigues. They fatigues will be a bit big on you so I-"

*Fatigues," Robyn said. She took a deep breath, and stroked Pockets' forehead.

The clothes arrived before the doctor did. Robyn was indeed too small for them, but they afforded her more dignity than a tank top and boyshorts.

Corr finally returned. "I must know how you synthesized this compound," he said.

"Now that's hardly a fair exchange," Robyn said. "I'm sure a big genius like you can figure that out. I'll even give you my e-mail, and I promise to tell you if you guess correctly. But you're just sewing up some bulletholes, here. That will get you a millilitre."

Corr frowned, barely containing his rage. "I'll do it for that whole bottle."

"Five holes," Robyn said. "Five millilitres. Or we can go free a trauma doctor and you can make do with a couple drops in an old glove."

"Ten holes," he countered. "Entry and exit. Ten millilitres."

"Done," Robyn said. "Payment to be delivered following services rendered. I trust you have accurate graduated cylinders?"

The doctor merely growled, and wheeled Pockets away. Dietrich faded into view beside them. "You can observe the operation from here," he said, and led them down the maze of corridors.

Liam heaved a sigh of relief.  “Be honest,” he said in quiet aside to Dietrich as he turned to follow. “You were betting you were going to have  to toss us out on our asses, right?”

Dietrich chuckled despite himself, and replied with his best military deadpan. "I knew you'd leave without a fuss," he said. "I was too busy calculating the best method by which to deadlift Ms. Rowe."

It took Robyn about as long to measure the formula as it did for Corr to patch Pockets up from the inside out. She was pointedly measuring it correct to the drop,and wasn't quite satisfied with her accuracy. When she was done, Dietrich quickly took it before she could change her mind.

Kindred blood used to be a precious resource for Corr, but he seemed generous enough with it in the operating theatre. He may be a sadistic monster, but he was also a damn fine surgeon whose pride had been wounded. He made a point of doing the best job he could. No doubt he was also taking the opportunity to run every test and scan he could muster.

When he was finished, he came to the gallery. He left Pockets to recuperate.

"She'll live," he said. "And by that I mean she doesn't breathe and she has no pulse, but her wounds won't bleed out. Provided she rests. I don't even like the idea of moving her. I can't guarantee my work if she goes galavanting about. As far as I can tell, she's been the target of a deviant energy emission designed to isolate her higher-order Kindred functions."

"In other words, a binding curse," Robyn said. "Like I said."

"Yyyyes," he said. "At any rate, if you require my assistance bringing her around, my door remains open. Please do me the courtesy of choosing better company."

"And when I succeed, I'll be sure to send you a report," Robyn replied. "I'll be sure to use as many unnecessarily large words as possible so it sounds more sciencey for ya."

"That would be most appreciated, Ms. Rowe," Corr purred in reply. "Just in case I encounter any poor similarly affected souls who don't have access to such a talented- I'm sorry, what's the correct word for you people nowadays? I can't keep track."

"Call me whatever you like," Robyn said. "Just remember that one of us people solved a riddle that stumped you for a decade."

No snappy comeback there. He took the barb, and turned his attention back to Liam. "I'll loan you a spinal board for the walk back to your car. Be careful loading her in."

"Thank you, Doctor Corr," Liam said, bowing his head in gratitude. "I am grateful, as ever."

Before either of them could think of another witty rejoinder, Liam readied his end of the board and directed a pointed look at Robyn. It was time to go.

Robyn smiled like the cat that ate the canary the whole way back to the car. When they loaded Pockets in the back and went on their way, As she drove back, she snickered. "D'you know I have an actual barrel of that stuff at home?"

Fortunately for them, the vozhd seemed to gloss over police cars the same way the other mooks did. With any luck, it'd be a quiet drive back.

“In twenty years I’ve never seen anyone get under Valcius’s skin like that and come out on top,” he said with open admiration. “Now lets go home and feed the dog. Tomorrow we’re having a quiet night. Deal?”

"I don't think tomorrow is gonna be all that quiet," Robyn said. "Don't forget what's waiting for us on the way home."

When she pulled in behind the deuce, she could see a few people gathered around Mik, wearing some fine-looking knitted silk ponchos. Most, however, were doing their best to avoid him. There were fifteen of them, ranging in age from late thirties to late fifties. There were more in the back, some of whom were catatonic, and others who seemed to be in some sort of coma. All those whoccould do so eyed the pair apprehensively as they approached.

"All right, everyone," Robyn said. "We're going to take you someplace where it's safe to hide. After you've all had a chance to rest and recover, we'll get you wherever you need to go."

As she rounded up the survivours, Mik handed Liam back his pistol. "All safe and accounted for," he said. "But they've been through a lot."

Liam nodded and fastened the holster over his shoulder. "I guess this means I'm driving," he said, looking back towards the troop transport. "Mik, are you coming too?"

Mik shook his head. "I need some time alone," he replied. "And the forest is calling my name. It's been too long since I slept in the earth." He looked over at the truck full of people. "Something tells me you'll be too busy to reminisce anyway."

"I think you're right," Liam replied, looking over the survivors. "Take care of yourself out there," he said after a moment. "I expect we'll all be hearing from Jacob again before too long."

He patted his pocket where he'd stashed the radio. "You know where to reach me," he said. "Take care."

The drive back to Robyn's was a quiet one. She went with Pockets in the police car, with Liam following close behind. The birds were already beginning to sing when he pulled into her driveway.

Liam helped Robyn carry Pockets to her room. When the Malkavian was safely tucked in, Robyn closed her door.

"I'll probably have to consult the book for this one," she remarked. "I suppose with all the extra people around I should start locking it in my study, too. Not that I think anyone will know what it is, let alone how to read it."

She took a long look up the stairs. "So much for peace and quiet," she said. "I guess I gotta go put up the yurt before I get to sleep."

As Liam lay Pockets down to rest he looked at her for the first time that night. Truly looked at her, examining the subtleties of her aura. Sense the Other

Though nowhere near as gifted as Robyn or Corr, he thought perhaps there might be something there to learn...

As the two of them departed he looked at Robyn and then followed her gaze up the stairs. "That's probably a good idea," he concurred. "Best to be safe."

"I'm afraid I can't be of much more help tonight. Sun's coming up. I can feel it."

There was time enough to feed Caleb, certainly. And he'd promised to send word to Hasan once they were home safe. Beyond that, well, whatever it was would have to wait for tomorrow.

Pockets' aura had grown a little more marked by Vamanado's presence over the years, though that may have been due more to proximity than involvement. To Liam's knowledge she had made no deals with the creature, nor had she spent an excessive amount of time in its direct presence. Certainly, the curse upon her had no discernible corrupt trace to it.

Vampires could generally be easily recognized by their pale auras. Pockets', however, was more than pale. It was faded. Muted. Like light shone through translucent cloth.

Of course, the intensity of the corruption may have been exaggerated by the metaphysical air-raid horn blaring from the tome upstairs. Its presence was so strong he could hear it whispering to him again, beckoning with its poisonous lure of forbidden knowledge and mind-shattering dimensional revelations.

After dining on meat, rice and potato chips for three solid days, Caleb was unable to mask his disappointment at the kibble Liam set down before him. He took a careful sniff, gingerly picked up a tiny mouthful, and chewed it thoughtfully. Then he looked balefully up at his master and snorted.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:58, Mon 06 July 2020.

"Look, I got you a squeaky dinosaur too," Liam said. "And a bone."

"You don't get hamburgers every night. I don't get hamburgers every night. Good news is you'll have plenty of company over the next few days. Be kind to them. They've had a hard time."

After giving Caleb a farewell scratch behind the ear, Liam headed back downstairs and fished out the messenger stone. He looked at the tiny pebble nestled in the palm of his hand for a moment and then tucked it under his tongue.

"Still awake, Old Man?" he asked. Liam lay back in his bed with his hands cradled under his neck and stared up at the ceiling.

"We made it home safe. Corr stitched up Pockets. It was... something to watch Robyn and Valcius hash it out."

"As long as her mouth didn't land you on a dissecting table, I'd call that a win," Hasan said. "We're all tucked in over here. That big creep wasn't really built for searching down sneaky fuckers like me. Did he let you take Pockets home?"

“Robyn wouldn’t have it any other way. We also took home all the survivors. It’s going to be mayham here for a few days, I’m sure.”

“But we did it. Almost makes me wish I didn’t smash their radio. I’d love to be listening to their encrypted band tonight.”

"I'd like to be a fly on van Fokke's wall, that's for damn sure," Hasan said. "I'm genuinely surprised you were able to pry a mystery like that away from him. But I'm glad you managed. Pockets is better off with friends."

"Don't forget to rest in between wrangling those ex-mooks. You've earned it, and we all need to wait for the heat to die down. The tide is finally turning. I can feel it."

“I’m staying well away from the city tomorrow if I can help it. I still have a few more old ghosts to dig up, if I can find them.”

“Can I ask you something? Is Seavers really gone? It doesn’t feel like a thing like that should be possible. He was prepared for everything.”

"I mean, his ghoul lives with us now," Hasan said. "They starved him out for months, and then sent in an army. Most of 'em didn't come back out. And now, they're researching the dig site with impunity. You can go look for yourself if you want, but do the math."

“No, I get that. I just... I figured he would have had a back door.” It might not take Seavers ashes to convince Liam he was gone for good, but it would probably take something close. And Liam knew for a fact that the dig site did indeed have a back door. Liam had swam its length to the St Lawrence. He just didn’t know if Seavers had known that.

“I’m sure security will be tightened there after tonight. They’ll be locking down whatever Tremere are left tight.”

"I dunno," Hasan said. "They're choosy about who they let in there. Signage out front even says no Redwatch. I don't know how much they've figured out, but I guess that depends on how much of Fuchs' work made it into their hands. They may not know what they're dealing with, but they know it's important. And dangerous. I bet they're booby trapping it all to hell, though. Ran into a few of those tonight."

“That’s a problem for another night, I suppose,” Liam conceded. “I think it’s time I turned in. Take care, Old Man. And take care of Jacob.”

"Always do, kiddo," he replied. "Stay outta trouble."

[8 EXP for the scene.]