IC 2077 Pt 2
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IC 2077 Pt 2
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian watches as Al suddenly makes a break for the chasm’s edge. She knows that she is inhumanly fast but Al has a lead on her. Instead, she summons her power and casts a Levitate on the running man, hoping to stop him in mid-stride. Aware that this place is likely to interfere with her spell in some manner, she makes an instant decision to go big, selecting an F10 spell and casting it with her Focus.
300
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The dweomer hit Al just as he was leaping, lifting his weight just as his stomach lurched with the suicidal plunge. Normally he shrugged Satan’s influences off, but he normally – as in never – felt power like Sian wielded. He fought and thrashed in the air, almost tearing free of the invisible bonds a couple of times before he sorcery exerted its hold again.
“Dammit woman, ya don’t git it they’s gon’ kill him snuff him out like he never was orphan them kids it’s my choice…dammit…” he unslung his rifle and leveled it at her…”Lemme go!”
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian’s power is enough to bring Al back to near her. She can hear the anguish in his voice but she holds the spell and shakes her head even as she turns his body in the air so that he is facing away from her. “No, Al. I will not do that. You will have to shoot me dead before I let you jump into that chasm. I can bash you against the rock floor to knock you out if you persist in resisting me. Just what lies are you believing? Who have they promised to save if you sacrifice yourself? Resist the lies. You are stronger than they are.”
She turns to Shrike and he can see the tears in her eyes at what she is doing to her friend. “Shrike, I am probably losing my friend through my actions, but can you think of anything else to help me keep him alive?”
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Al let the rifle fall, catching on its strap. He knew he wouldn’t kill one friend to save another. But he could still save Mao…
“FUCK…Dammit Vampirella, yer dead right. Shit. Don’t rightly know what I was thinkin’. Reckon you can put me down now, we can git outta this accursed place.”
His heart was pounding, willing her to hurry and release him – Mao was almost to the gate.
Do whatever it takes, little mortal. As we said – our word is our bond. We will not have mercy on him.
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian carefully considers Al’s words then shakes her head. “No, Al, I do not think so. That is the second time we have had to pull you from the brink of that accursed place and I do not wish to see you make a third attempt. I can sustain this spell for a bit as we leave this place. You can hate me all you want later and blame the man’s death on me. Whatever promises they are making you, they are all lies, no matter how much they seem to be real.”
She looks over at Shrike again. His silence here is disturbing and she is already wondering if she will need to try something more…….
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And then Mao reached the gate. And winked out of existence just as his kids turned to see who it was. The oldest girl got a surprised look on her face, a flash of joy, then puzzlement. She shook her head and went back to her game. And the vision faded.
The whispers stopped.
But Al was pretty sure they’d be back.
Either way, he’d never know if it had been real or just a trick.
Just like he’d never really know if he’d tried hard enough.
He couldn’t see Sian, as she was keeping his back to her. But he knew she could hear him. “Can’t see why I’d hate ya.” His voice was calm now. “Reckon ya saved my life. Fer better or worse. Probably a good helpin’ o’ both. Let me down or not. But if’n yer gon’ keep me up here, ease up on the pants, huh. Givin’ me a motherfucker of a wedgie. Gon’ have skidmarks fer sure.”
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I was shocked. I reacted first – that was how I was conditioned. Nevermind what happens, my instincts kick in, bypassing conscious thought and I act before I know it. But I had been too slow to stop Al. My head felt mushy as the mental static ramped up again. This was definitely not reality. Likely there was no real chasm here. You couldn’t fall in by accident…
“That’s the secret, isn’t it? The horrors can’t exert their will over us, not really. They can hurt us and lie to us, fuck with our senses, but in the end they need our mortal will to do anything. They can’t really make us do anything against our will. Jumping in the chasm must be our deliberate choice – for what reason doesn’t matter – it must be a sacrifice in the old sense of the word: Make holy – dedicating something of your own will to a higher power. Try to keep that in mind. They promised me success if I sacrifice Al, promised me to deliver all their followers if I just eliminated you – the only mortal among us. Your decisions hold more weight here than anyone elses.”
I turned to Sian
“What we do now? We frag this portal. Right now it’s attuned to the other place. We start by desecrating it. Use symbols of your believe , burn them into the ground – use explosives if you have them. Impress your power, you will upon the world. This is our world, they don’t have any real power beyond their illusions – they only have what we give to them.
And there is only one thing I’ll give them.”I took out the miniwelder and began to burn meticulously a symbol into the ground: A hand with an extended middle finger.
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Hanging in the air, Al had his own miniwelder out. “Amen ta that. Y’all wanna let me down from here, reckon I got a few symbols o’ my own I’d like ta carve. An’ they carry a damn sight more weight than some yahoo’s middle finger. Only question I got is, we close this portal, what happens ta our new buddy LB?”
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian considers her options and lowers Al to the rocky surface without cancelling the spell. “Have at it, but I think that I will keep the spell active for a few more minutes, just to be careful. I can also take some time and carve some symbols in the rock by shaping the stone.”
She concentrates on her magic again and begins shaping the rock, forming Buddhist and traditional samurai symbols into the ground. After putting three such symbols, she stops sustaining the spell on Al, releasing him from her control. “If you want to try that again, Al, you should make sure to shoot me first.”
She pauses to again consider her answer to Al’s last question. The issue with LB has been bothering her for a bit now. “I do not know what will happen to LB or to our missing companions. My initial thought is that the fanatics that use it were here before I opened a tunnel into the place, so there is probably some form of entry that we have not seen.
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Al savors the feel of his feet planted on the (illusory? otherplanar?) stone and takes a moment to pull his boxers out of his ass crack. Then he fired up his own welder and started burning a huge cross into the rocky surface.
“Well, truth be told, I’d guess he’s got no intention of leavin’ anyhoo. Or if he did, he’s got more ways than however we come in.”
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereAfter she has cut several more symbols into the rock, she pauses to admire the work of the others. She chuckles at the artistry involved in Shrikes initial cut. “I always knew that you had some artistic talent, Shrike, but this is actually quite good. I think it captures the real essence of what you are trying to convey. Now, do either of you know what do we do next to close this place off? I am not a portal mage, so cannot be of much use other than knowing that some portals will close if the source powering it is damaged or destroyed.”
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“We aren’t destroying it. The power comes from somewhere else after all. But we are chipping at the foundation, clouding the waters so to speak.
Think of it like we are standing on the bottom of a sink next to the drain. The mana is flowing out into this chasm with a tiny bit of spray reaching the Horrors. They can’t come over as long the mana just drains away into the abbys. They either need some kind of rope – the so called bridges – to come up, or they have to wait until there is so much mana that it doesn’t flow all into the abbys anymore, allowing them to swim out into here.
It’s an imperfect analogy, but anyway, what we are doing is hacking some holes into the drain, causing disturbances and making the mana drain to somewhere else. In theory that should weaken whatever connection they have to this place which in turn could collapse the illusion they use to keep us here. Signs of your believes should center your mind and also form metaphysical connections to somewhere else, diverting the power. I myself have a tiny bit of such a diversion in me. It’s what makes me so irritating for mana users and voodoo worshipers.
Now, it would be best if we could find a common thing to believe in – maybe your irritating friend in London, the garbage retreaver. You both seemed to have some heavy connection to her…”
I explained, while adding another symbol of my faith: Another middle finger, this time with the opposite hand. -
Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian nods twice as Shrike explains his analogy then pauses when he mentions the garbage retriever before laughing out loud. “Garbage retriever? I think that she would get a laugh at that. However, you seriously underestimate her if you think that is all she is and I would hope that you get a better idea some day. However, yes both Al and I have a good connection with her and I can agree to focus on her, if you think that will help us do this.”
She watches Shrike put his last symbol in the rock and shakes her head. “You have a very strange faith if that is your symbol. I really think that you should try to relax and compose yourself. I can show you something of Buddhism, if you are interested?”
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“Oh come on, we both have been around long enough to know that Buddhism is just another flavor of that religious self denying crap.
I used that symbol to contain the Sleeper and the Ashbeast. It’s one of the oldest forms of defiance still in existence. Anything else is giving those fraggers to much credence. Besides, being obnoxious to bigwigs is kind of my thing. Telling those Horrors to frag themselves is probably the most human thing to do.”
I replied, while putting the finishing touches to the rough symbol. -
Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian shakes her head without saying anything. She is a bit unsettled that someone who has lived as long as Shrike has not found some sort of religious solace. Walking through the centuries has mostly been a solitary journey for Sian and she suspects that the same would apply to the other immortals. Even lovers come and go so quickly and some of hers she can no longer bring to mind unless she is looking at one of her journals. She has found a sort of inner guide in the teachings of Buddha and in the practices of the samurai, but she expects that Shrike would refuse any sort of offer to help guide him to the same peace.
She shrugs then asks her question. “I will have to respectfully agree to disagree on that point. My question now is what do we do next to this place?”
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[Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes somewhere]
Lethe/Burnout appeared out of the mists at the edges of perception, striding purposefully towards the group of would be metaphysical vandals. If he/it was interested in their efforts he gave no outward sign
“We have detected a spike forming, it is some way from here and we will not wait for you, but if you are seeking one then it is likely that this will be your best chance” and he was striding away again leaving them to scramble after him/it, or not…
#103
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While I scrambled after LB, I said to Al: “On the off chance, we are about to crash a summoning ritual: Could you do me a favor and wear a button cam and go through first? I’d really like to see the faces of a bunch of blood mages when you appear before them.”
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Sian
Evening, Thursday March 25, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes SomewhereSian nods at LB and follows Shrike as he goes after the creature. She smiles at his words to Al, but says nothing, merely shaking her head.
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Al grinned and tapped the rigid surface of one otherwise natural-looking eye with a jagged yellow fingernail. There was a clear clicking sound. “No need fer a button cam when I got these babies. I’ll record ever’thin’ from now. Hell, might could even sell it on pay-per-view.”
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[Friday April 9, 2077; Chasm, the Metaplanes somewhere]
Despite the rather nebulous relationship with distances the trek seemed very long but the spike was blindingly obvious from afar. As they made the climb to the final approach they realised with sickening dread (those that could feel such things anyway) that the edge of the chasm now seemed to be made up of writhing bodies somehow packed together…hands clawed at their feet in despair and their travel was hampered, only Lethe seemed to be unaffected…he reached out with the Dragonheart and the artefact blazed as it began to siphon away the building energies
“Go quickly! This is a small spike and it will be erased from memory very soon!”
Dimly seen at the end of the spike an amorphous trio of blood mages were fashioning the bridge from the bodies that appeared beside them, slamming each home beneath their feet as they extended out towards the gibbering monsters on the far side of the chasm…
#104
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