"But I'd rather have a hot bath than a warm bed, can't sleep when I'm so...ick."
"Not me, I can sleep anywhere," Terri says, then does her own giggle snort. She puts her hand over her face. "There's one now."
"I should probably practice the skill of keeping my thoughts to myself."
"Nah, you're doing fine. You got us to Meera, we took care of the star and closed the crypt."
Terri stands back up, brushes the dirt off her hands, and bumps Kari's shoulder with her own, careful not to actually knock Kari over. "Win win."
Kari smiles at the bump, only jittering to the side a little extra, "I don't know if getting the person who hired us to tell us the problem really needed much skill."
She sighs, "Didn't get all the wrath spirits and demon wolves back into the crypt. Pissed off Gulizar enough that the crypt may not stay closed." She smiles, "But we did help a star get herself home."
"First time," Terri says. "Qualified success is still a success. And if we have to hunt wrath spirits and demon wolves for a few days, so be it."
When you let yourselves into Meera's home, you hear a dish clatter one room over, and a little 'oh!'.
The older woman peeps around the door frame of her kitchen.
"Maker's blessing, I was sure if you didn't make it back last night, you would have found somewhere safe to camp in the hills." She wipes her hands off on a towel.
"Did you walk all the way back here? Or did you have some sort of magic to get back here quickly? And would you like some breakfast?"
Kari waves when Meera's head pops around the door frame. "I don't think any of us thought to pack a tent or camping gear," Kari explains with a shrug. "Walked. No. Yes, please."
She looks over at the others, "Do any of you want to explain what happened?"
"Explain?"
Terri shakes her head. "Describe."
She holds up her hand, ticking off five fingers. "Star is returned. Crypt is sealed. Probably some demon wolves and wrath spirits still out in the forest. We walked back to bring you the news quicker. Breakfast is kind, but a bed would be kinder."
She turns to Brian and Charlie. "That cover everything relevant?"
Meera bustles about her kitchen, fiddling with a strange looking device that reveals itself to be a coffee maker as the strong smell of the comforting drink fills the room.
She channels her mother-hen energy well; she listens closely to Terri's short description while cracking eggs, making bacon, potatoes with peppers and a bright purple vegetable that she calls 'lokna' if anyone asks about it.
"It's good for the heart," she adds. "Hopefully you all appreciate a little spice in the morning."
She pulls most of the ingredients from a large cabinet that, when opened, reveals a glowing rune placed on the back side of the door. Chilly air spills out of the cabinet before she shuts it again.
Anyone paying attention notices she dotes just a little more on the women in the group, as they both appear to have a couple of extra pieces of bacon on their plates.
"You're more than welcome to find a bed upstairs; all open doors lead to rooms you may use for rest, I only ask that you leave the one closed door... closed."
She sips from her own mug of coffee, then chews thoughtfully on a piece of bacon. "I can't thank you enough for your help. That you returned the star tells me it was not a meteor, but an actual qephilim. Is that correct?"
She turns to Brian and Charlie. "That cover everything relevant?"
"I can't think of anything else."
She sips from her own mug of coffee, then chews thoughtfully on a piece of bacon. "I can't thank you enough for your help. That you returned the star tells me it was not a meteor, but an actual qephilim. Is that correct?"
"That's right," Charlie says. "I suspect I don't have a proper understanding of quite what that means, in a larger, maybe even theological sense, but it's correct."
Terri chews her food thoughtfully, and does not take any coffee.
Despite her earlier assertion that bed was kinder than breakfast, she finishes her breakfast.
"I suspect I don't have a proper understanding of quite what that means, in a larger, maybe even theological sense, but it's correct."
Meera pats his shoulder. "I'm certainly not the one to help you understand it, dearie. But there are theologians in Hazzurrium who might be able to explain it, if you're interested."
She checks over everyone's plates, waiting for them to empty before she whisks them away to wash them.
"Honestly, I expected this task to take longer. You're, of course, welcome to stay here for the festival, it'll last a few more days. But if you just need a bit of a rest before you leave, my home is open to you as long as you need."
She smiles at all of you clustered around her table. "I'm sure you'd find many festival goers happy to buy you food and drink once they find out you've so valiantly protected our village."
Kari ate the food quietly, letting the conversation wash over her, almost in a trance.
valiantly protected our village."
She winces at this, "Meera, do you know any old stories of a guy that called himself Gulizar?" She asks into the cup.
"Honestly, I expected this task to take longer."
"We can stick around to hunt down any wrath spirits and demon wolves, if necessary," Terri says, covering a yawn with her hand.
"Pardon me. We don't want to leave this place in worse shape than we found it."
"Meera, do you know any old stories of a guy that called himself Gulizar?"
Terri blinks at this question, and she looks first to Kari, and then to Meera.
Meera gives Kari's question a few moments of thought before shaking her head. "That's not a name I'm familiar with. Why do you ask?"
"Pardon me. We don't want to leave this place in worse shape than we found it."
Meera smiles. "I very much appreciate the offer. The spirits didn't try to attack us last night, so I can only hope that means they were sealed away inside the crypt once more after your work. As to the umber wolves, well..." she sighs. "They're an ever-present problem, I'm afraid. Not tied to that specific crypt. If I asked you to stay and hunt them down, you'd be living in these hills the rest of your lives."
She shakes her head again. "That problem is not one a small group of people can solve, no matter how effective the group."
The translation back to the Estate takes your group roughly fifteen minutes to complete. It's not yet a super familiar location, plus, the last night of sleep you had was the last night you were here, at the Estate. You might be a little tired.
Your Ardeyn bodies melt away as the fractal space unfolds around you, leaving you back in the bodies you had the last time you were all in the Estate. You're standing in the lobby of the Estate Prime building, and you all receive notifications on your tablets to debrief with Katherine Manners if you've completed the assignment. This appears to be a protocol message that's triggered upon return to the Estate after taking on an assignment, rather than Katherine watching you all specifically.
After the debrief, and since you didn't go anywhere listed as 'dangerous', you're free to do what you wish. It's suggested that you take some time to rest and relax, but if you're really keen to jump into another world, the option is open.
At the debrief, Terry fills in details and corroborates, but after the first few times he refers to the group as "They -- I mean, we," his contributions are a lot more sparse.
What Terry wants to do, after the debrief, is take a long nap. Then do a little shopping. Then he will be ready to attack another task.
Charlie reaches up to feel horns that are no longer there and looks down to find feet rather than hooves. He sighs. "Back to normal."
"If it's all the same to everyone, I'd like to unwind a bit. Get to know what's supposed to be where I live now."
At the debrief, Charlie will let the others take the lead.
The Estate isn't overlarge - think of it like a resort that has everything a person could need on-site, to discourage them leaving the property.
There's the tavern that changes themes every few weeks, or months, or whenever people feel like it's time to change it. There's a cafe in the same area that tends to be where people go to grab coffee and read a book. On top of the Prime building, there's a a spa that takes up the entire upper floor... and includes a section devoted to an observatory that's rumored to be very interesting. The glass ceilings in the spa can be opaqued, or not, if folks want a view of the fractal sky while they relax in a pool-side lounge chair.
There's a commissary that allows people to pick up or order anything they might need that their rooms don't offer them.
Beautiful gardens fill the area outside on campus, between buildings. Your group has seen bits and pieces of this on various strolls around the campus.
There are classes - most of them are one-offs. You can see a staff roster, reach out to them directly, and sign up for courses that occur if enough people sign up for them... or if the person doing the asking is persistent enough to push for a 1:1 style lesson. These include training sessions with weapons and other skills Agents have picked up along the way.
There's a gym, including areas dedicated to sports you recognize... and sports you don't.
The R&D building allows access by any Agent, though what they actually get access to inside will be determined by what, in particular, you ask to learn about.
There's a community board, accessible digitally on your tablet as well as in the lobby of the Prime building, where a few suggestions about excursions/research trips into other recursions are listed. You get a strong sense that this board was much busier before Agents started disappearing.
And, of course, you may crash in your room and hide in it as long as you need, marking your door as 'inaccessible except in emergency' if you'd like to be left alone to nap for a few days.
Terry takes a stab at choosing better mission gear. Two Thermoses of different colors, a sleeping bag, a knife. A bag of cat treats. Craft glitter. He puts a pony in the shopping cart, realizes that he might get an actual pony, and removes the pony from the shopping cart. He forgets to remove the blanket, but he does remove all the rest of the "people who buy a pony also purchased" gear that was automatically added.
That night, he sends a few messages on his tablet. One to Baruchiel & Abby: drinks? And one to Charlie.
He takes a quick shower, sends Sabine a short message that he's back and going to sleep, and then does exactly that. When Charlie awakens, he'll check his messages.
Classes: Sabine's, whip, qephilim
Reading the Pnakotic Manuscripts
Working on some of his own stuff
A moment later.
I can't think of anything offhand. What did you do in the old world?
In the still image of the qephilim, you notice her eyes appear to be burning with mythlight fire. It's like she's looking right at you, no matter how you tilt the image. When you add 'pony', you definitely get suggestions for saddles, decorative horseshoes, riding crops, and the like. It's much easier to get rid of the suggestions than on Earth shopping sites, that's for sure.
Both the gym and firing range have a couple of other Agents working out with headphones, or shooting guns with ear protection. One of the other Agents in the range is firing a laser weapon, and she looks like she means business.
Abby responds quickly, Yes! I want to hear all about your first adventure in the Wild
A few minutes later, Baruchiel responds.
I would love a break from babysitting Fenwick. And I'm glad to hear the qephilim did not smite you into dust.
Charlie awakens to a message from Sabine.
Quick trip! I'm eager to hear everything about your time in Ardeyn! It would be summer there, correct?
Is it too soon for coffee? I don't want to impose. I know translating can take a lot out of Agents.
I hope your tablet is set to silent, and if not, I sincerely apologize if this wakes you.
She responded near the end of the 'night' cycle of the Estate, an equivalent of somewhere around 3am on Earth.
An Estate staffer named Moira Jackson teaches several weapons courses, and she happens to be the most readily available teacher to work with. All weapons classes take place in rooms near the firing range and gym. When Charlie enters the room, he sees the walls, floor, and ceiling are all padded with something that feels sticky to the touch, but leaves no residue on fingertips. Moira waits, hair cut punky short, wearing a white tank top that showcases well muscled arms. Everything about her posture and easy confidence scream Vector, though she wasn't listed as an Agent.
"Hi there, you must be Charlie." Her voice is more feminine than the chiseled jaw would suggest. Her smile is warm, but you'd consider her tone more courteous than friendly. "You've chosen a very useful weapon. Before we start, can I ask what led you to make that choice?"
I was a baggage handler. Moved things from Point A to Point B and back again. Sometimes at speed.
Just wanted to offer because I am terrible at those puzzles like with the liquids. So this is the part I am bad at.
Terry does a circuit to check and see if the veteran Agents have beaten him to the bar. If not, he picks a place where he can watch for them.
It's not too early. My day is free, so whatever time you'd like.
"Yes, Professor Jackson. I'm Charlie Speck." He keeps his hands clasped behind his back and stands straight, almost at attention. "I wanted something that would be useful as both weapon and tool. It's also possible that I've watched the Indiana Jones trilogy too many times."
Terry does, in fact, arrive at the tavern first. It's still Star Wars themed, as only a couple of days have passed since Terry drank there last.
Abby arrives first, looking much less stressed and better rested. Damn near glowing; the power of sleep! Her hair is down, and she's wearing a high collared shirt with long sleeves that are all lace, and very sensible shoes and pants. She scans the room, catching Terry's counter-search, and gives a little wave when she sees him.
"Big strapping man again, I see!" She says instead of 'hello'. She finds a seat nearby, crossing one leg over the other and not yet making a move for the drink menu. "How are you?" She asks, her tone softer, more serious.
His pets were, indeed, well taken care of in his absence and seem to be doing just fine.
Perfect. Meet me in the Prime lobby in an hour?
After an hour passes, and Charlie heads to the lobby, he finds Sabine, her back turned to the direction he arrived in, wings fluttering occasionally in what looks like the hands-equivalent of fidgeting. She's wearing a flowy top, material dipping artfully around her wings to give them room to move, and pants of a soft, dark blue material. She wears no shoes, and her toenails sparkle in the light of the lobby; the same color as the phosphorescent streaks in her hair, the same colors as the membrane of her wings.
As if sensing the presence of someone behind her, she turns, giving a startled 'HI' that's a hair too loud for the room you're in and the distance between you.
She laughs after the Indiana Jones comment. "Honestly, I'm not sure any human has made a whip look cooler."
She runs Charlie through the basics; how to unfurl the whip to attack at distance, how to entangle a target most of the time, where to snap a whip that'll stagger someone who's trying to escape, how to use a whip with two hands to get out of a situation, or to choke someone to death. You know, the usual things.
Training targets pop up around the room at Moira's command, and she gives Charlie plenty of room to practice, to make mistakes, to correct mistakes, and to try, try again. A few times, he pulls his arm back too far, and the whip snags against the sticky wall behind him.
Once she sees that he's getting the hang of the wrist and arm movements, the small intricacies that make a whip more than just something to hit people with, she steps into the room as a target. She taps something on her wrist, and her body shimmers like she's behind a wall of water.
Charlie finds he's able to snap the whip around her ankles, or hit her when she crosses her arms, and though the whip strikes surface, he sees it's inches away from her body.
"Good; a whip is a weapon of confidence," she compliments him from the floor, picking herself up after a successful ankle-snag-and-pull. "You can't half ass a strike, or you're likely to have the weapon pulled from your grip."
"Confidence," Charlie sighs. He nods. "Thank you for this. The instruction is invaluable. I've only ever used it once in combat. For the most part I aided my fellows in other ways."
"When sunlight touches your skin in the summers of Ardeyn, you can hear it singing. It's very faint." She suddenly looks a little self conscious. "It might be too subtle, especially if you're new there."
She coughs politely, and her wings flutter a bit.
"So, if you're open to it, I was thinking of going on a little field trip. The coffee here at the Estate is good, but..." she lets her sentence trail off.
Moira nods, giving Charlie an appraising look. "Paradox?"
She taps the screen of her tablet, and the practice dummies disappear from the room. The shimmering field around her disappears, too.
"I'm sure you'll be Indiana in no time, as long as you keep practicing."
After the lesson, she walks through stretches that help loosen tight arm muscles and wrist ligaments.
I'll give it a try. Got any pointers?
Terry watches the woman firing the laser gun. He takes off his ear protection and slides in an earbud.
When she finishes, he walks over. "Hi, I'm Terry," he says, "Terry with a Y. That's a neat weapon. Where is it from?"
Terry thinks for a moment. "Still some turmoil," he says. "We didn't sleep when we were in Ardeyn, and I found myself giving my debrief largely in the third person."
"Is that likely to happen every time I visit a new recursion? No," he answers his own question, "I suppose not. This is a recursion here, isn't it?"
He rubs his temples. "On top of that, my phone didn't make the trip, so I had no music. At least nothing else really stressful happened."
The woman is reloading a clip when Terry approaches her with a greeting. She carefully sets the weapon down on the counter, then turns to face him. Her hair is cut punk-short and is messy from the ear protection she wore before he approached.
"Hi, I'm Moira," she holds out a hand to shake, and the grip is firm and confident. "With an a." She says with a half smile. "It's from a trip I made to one of the many Star Wars recursions a while back; I wanted to see if they were as difficult to shoot as storm troopers made them out to be, or if that was just a literary choice."
The still-sizzling holes on the target down the range, clustered close to the heart, indicate that she found her answer.
"What'd you bring in to shoot with?"
She looks sympathetic. "Fantasy recursions are hard for the technologically inclined." She seems satisfied enough with his answer not to push further. "Did you already order something?" She asks, picking up the menu to scroll through the drinks. Then she pauses and looks up. "I'm not sure if you'd enjoy it, but there is a sound bath room in the spa."
Baruchiel walks up, nearly silent, and takes a seat.
"Good to see you in one piece, Terry," she says.
"What about me?" Abby says, not looking up from the menu while she continues scrolling.
"What about you? I saw you ten minutes ago." Baruchiel says.
"A lot can happen in ten minutes."
"Anyway. What did you think of Ardeyn, now that you're back?" Baruchiel asks Terry.
After the group returns, and Brian has rested through at least one 'night' cycle at the Estate, he receives a message on his tablet.
Hey, how are you holding up? How was your time in Ardeyn?
The message is from Abby.
Meera gives Kari's question a few moments of thought before shaking her head. "That's not a name I'm familiar with. Why do you ask?"
Kari is still contemplating the edge of the cup as though it contains all the secrets she needs the answers to, "In helping Teremiel we encountered a soulshorn that called himself that," she shrugs, "if it was his name in life and he was really famous or infamous I thought you might have heard it." She looks up at Meera, "Just means that I'll have to add it to the list of questions I want answered but need to work to get to, like what could force a star down from the sky."
At the debrief, Terry fills in details and corroborates, but after the first few times he refers to the group as "They -- I mean, we," his contributions are a lot more sparse.
Kari's report is detailed, pointing out the points where the others of the group were essential for succeeding. She does start to lose focus and stray from facts when she starts to detail possible repercussions and fallout.
What Terry wants to do, after the debrief, is take a long nap. Then do a little shopping. Then he will be ready to attack another task.
"I'm going to definitely do the nap thing," Kari smiles, "after I visit Fenwick. It really sounded like he needed cheering up." And she heads to the infirmary.
A few days after they get back from Ardeyn, everyone gets a message: 'I think we got really lucky in terms of working together, can anyone make some time for training as a group? Getting a feel for how we can help each other? -kari'
To go along with the public profile she has up, Kari's room is explicitly findable.
She does a public estate search on Valen Dilucca (yes, again).
After Kari gets a decent sleep, she sends a message to Sabine: 'Greetings, Sabine. We got back from Ardeyn safe. Thank you for the advice and more so for letting me cancel on you so abruptly. Absolutely no rush, but when you have the time, I would love to understand more about recursions and how they come about.'
"Field trip?" Charlie asks. "Where?"
"I haven't taken an official test about what I am. I don't even know what they look like, but in my head they're like one of those Buzzfeed quizzes where you learn which Golden Girl or Ninja Turtle you are." There's a long pause. "Sophia and Donatello." Another pause. "Abby Swain says I'm a Paradox and she seems to know what's going on around here. Or, at least that's part of her job." Charlie nods. Pretty sure that covers it.
At the end of the lesson, Charlie regards his whip with new appreciation."Thank you, Professor Jackson. Your help has been invaluable."
You've met me, right?
Meera spills a little of her coffee when Kari mentions 'soulshorn'.
"Goodness, you met a soulshorn in the crypt? You Agents really are impressive. We would have lost every man or woman that went poking around in that crypt if they'd run into a soulshorn." She turns to her sink and tries to rinse out the coffee she spilled on her shirt.
"Soulshorn can live hundreds of years. Maybe longer. It's no surprise to me that I haven't heard of him, even if he's somewhat of a neighbor." She sets her cup next to the sink, then turns back to the group. "I wish I could reward a curious mind with answers, but instead… would you like some more bacon?"
When Kari looks up Valen, she finds that they're at the Estate currently, still, after the return from their last mission.
Sabine responds within a half an hour of Kari's message.
I'm glad to hear you returned from Ardeyn safely - it's such a beautiful place, but full of danger, too.
Sure, I have another class coming up in two days' time, if you're comfortable with it, I'll mark you as 'attending' and look forward to meeting you!
When Kari arrives in the infirmary, Aleph isn't attending, but a woman named Zaika is. She's got a zaftig build and perpetually rosy red cheeks that match her cheery disposition. She chats with you amicably while walking you down a hall and to a room with a closed door. She checks through the window before opening it and ushering you inside. "He's been giving Abby and Baruchiel nothing but a hard time, but I think he's finally getting antsy to get out of here and back to normal business," she says quietly.
Abby is the only visitor with Fenwick currently, and when she looks up to see who's come into the room, she smiles and waves.
"Hey! How lovely of you to visit!"
Fenwick looks exhausted; the skin around his eyes looks almost bruised, like he hasn't slept in ages. He waves, though, and gives Kari a smile.
"I was holding off on dying so I could hear the story about horny dwarves and short skirts," he says. Abby bops him gently on the arm.
"Quit it, you're not dying, don't scare people who don't know you better."
Sabine grins. "To a place with a damn fine cup of coffee. It'll take a little longer to translate since there are just two of us, but I know the place like the back of my hand, so that helps."
Sabine leads Charlie to one of the meditation rooms in the Prime building.
"Think about the Double R Diner; the interior, the waitress, the ambiance…"
The meditation trance does take a little longer than if it was a trio, but not much longer - after about 30 minutes, the walls of the Estate start going blurry, then washing away like watercolors in a rain storm.
As soon as the world builds itself back up around Charlie, he recognizes that he's on Earth again, but not the Earth his body knows as home. It's almost more confusing than finding himself in either the Strange or Ardeyn, since everything is recognizable… but different.
A mountain rises in the distance behind the Double R, and a few people mill around outside the café and don't seem to notice that two people have just appeared out of thin air nearby. The air is the comfortable temperature of fall in the pacific northwest, with a bitter breeze that occasionally threatens 'winter'.
Sabine's face looks the same; bright eyes almost too large for the delicate face, but the phosphorescent streaks have disappeared. Her hair spills out from underneath a beret, over the shoulders of a comfortable looking wool coat. It's safe to assume her wings are missing from the equation as well. And she is, in fact, wearing shoes.
"Shall we?" She asks, excited.
"It's basically a quiz, yeah," Moira says with a chuckle. "Abby is a great source of knowledge and has a good eye for figuring out people's specializations. You'd have to be, after being alive so long."
"Thank you, Professor Jackson. Your help has been invaluable."
Moira inclines her head politely. "I'm always happy to work with someone whose curiosity is still in tact. If you ever need a sparring partner, just send a message. If you come back, I'll teach you how to hook a chandelier and swing off it like a swashbuckler."
"The soulshorn didn't seem that dangerous, really," Terri says, "just bored. Hungry for knowledge."
Terri contemplates more bacon, but decides against. "He may never forget you, Charlie," Terri says, cheerfully.
Terry does a reply-all. This is a good plan. My calendar is open.
But really I meant detective work tips.
Terry's return handshake is firm and cordial.
"I was assigned a generic pistol at the Armory a few days ago, and I haven't really gotten a feel for it yet. Not as a pistol, anyway."
Terry ducks his head and admits, "New to this. Just finished our first official mission yesterday."
"I will admit, it never occurred to me to seek out strange new guns. What's the recoil on that?"
"Didn't order yet. No hurry."
"I'm not sure if you'd enjoy it, but there is a sound bath room in the spa."
Terry looks confused. "A sound bathroom? ...all the bathrooms here seem sound. What's so special about the one in the spa?"
Terry watches the banter between Abby and Baruchiel with an amused look on his face.
"I have confidence in your ability to get into trouble in a ten-minute walk," Terry says to Abby.
"Ardeyn was ... interesting," Terry says. "The colors were really intense. My phone didn't make the translation," Terry taps the earbud in his left ear, "so that was rough."
"We didn't show up at the big city, though, we translated right to the small town where we were needed. That saved on some walking."
"The food was good, the beer was strong, and there were honest-to-goodness elves and dwarves."
Terry shakes his head, half in amazement, half in chagrin. "I was prepared, but not really prepared."
Terri contemplates more bacon, but decides against. "He may never forget you, Charlie," Terri says, cheerfully.
Charlie starts, clearly having tuned out the bulk of the conversation in favor of eating. "Why? What'd I do?" he demands.
Yeah, I can do that, Charlie responds on the thread.
Sabine grins. "To a place with a damn fine cup of coffee. It'll take a little longer to translate since there are just two of us, but I know the place like the back of my hand, so that helps."
"All right," Charlie says, a little nervously.
Sabine leads Charlie to one of the meditation rooms in the Prime building.
"Think about the Double R Diner; the interior, the waitress, the ambiance…"
"Wait, Norma or Shelly? Or Annie?" The last is said with the tiniest bit of weary nerd disgust. "Probably all of them," he decides.
The meditation trance does take a little longer than if it was a trio, but not much longer - after about 30 minutes, the walls of the Estate start going blurry, then washing away like watercolors in a rain storm.
As soon as the world builds itself back up around Charlie, he recognizes that he's on Earth again, but not the Earth his body knows as home. It's almost more confusing than finding himself in either the Strange or Ardeyn, since everything is recognizable… but different.
A mountain rises in the distance behind the Double R, and a few people mill around outside the café and don't seem to notice that two people have just appeared out of thin air nearby. The air is the comfortable temperature of fall in the pacific northwest, with a bitter breeze that occasionally threatens 'winter'.
Sabine's face looks the same; bright eyes almost too large for the delicate face, but the phosphorescent streaks have disappeared. Her hair spills out from underneath a beret, over the shoulders of a comfortable looking wool coat. It's safe to assume her wings are missing from the equation as well. And she is, in fact, wearing shoes.
"Shall we?" She asks, excited.
Charlie's jaw drops and his eyes go wide. "Are you kidding me?" he asks with breathless excitement. "Are we here? Here here?"
After a moment, he looks down at himself and finds the clean lines of a suit that could have come off the rack in the 1950s. His hair is lacquered down in a cut that would pass FBI muster.
"It's basically a quiz, yeah," Moira says with a chuckle. "Abby is a great source of knowledge and has a good eye for figuring out people's specializations. You'd have to be, after being alive so long."
"Does time move differently here? I was under the impression that Abby is as human as I am, but significantly older."
Moira inclines her head politely. "I'm always happy to work with someone whose curiosity is still in tact. If you ever need a sparring partner, just send a message. If you come back, I'll teach you how to hook a chandelier and swing off it like a swashbuckler."
"I will happily take you up on that. I'm on the thing...tablet."
Charlie starts, clearly having tuned out the bulk of the conversation in favor of eating. "Why? What'd I do?" he demands.
"Kitty," Terri says, tapping her nose. "The soulshorn should learn to be more specific in his bargains, but that's not how people do."
She shrugs.
Charlie's hands are still black as coal as he wolfs his food down; a silent reminder of the choice he made to trick a soulshorn. As to what that means for the group, or Charlie alone… only time will tell.
"If he made a kingdom of the Lonely Roads… he was more dangerous than he seemed." Meera responds simply, but sounds less sure now.
Upon returning to the Estate, Charlie finds that his Strange-hands are no longer black. He seems to have left the effect behind him in Ardeyn.
"Welcome aboard!" Moira says with a smile. "Exciting, isn't it? And you'll never find all the answers to your questions. The best part of the job, for me, is constantly discovering new things. New weapons, new people, new worlds, new faces when I look in the mirror."
She picks up her blaster and hands it to him.
"See for yourself!"
In Terry's hands, the gun fires easily, and with his talent for shooting, he finds the recoil is hardly worth noting. There seems to be no logical reason as to how an entire army could so frequently miss with such a well balanced weapon.
"A sound bathroom? ...all the bathrooms here seem sound. What's so special about the one in the spa?"
Abby laughs. "A sound bath. You lay down and a spa therapist plays singing bowls, crystals, tuning forks, whatever you'd like. I think there's even sound therapy that uses heavy metal instead, but… I admit, I haven't tried that one out yet. So it's a literal bath of sound. You see?"
The two women listen as Terry describes his experience in Ardeyn.
"We are never really prepared for translating to other worlds. There's always a moment of forgetting where you are, a moment of panic when you don't recognize your reflection." Baruchiel says.
"Interesting, though, that your group managed to go straight to where you needed instead of translating to Hazzurrium. Accident? Or talent?"
She says 'ah!' as she makes a drink selection, offering the tablet to both Terry and Baruchiel, whoever takes it first.
"Baru said you met one of the ancient qephilim. So it was an actual Ardeyn star that fell and landed near the village?"
It is, in fact, Annie Blackburn who welcomes Charlie and Sabine in when the door to the café opens.
"Grab a seat, I'll be with you in just a few!" Her tone is friendly, but she seems distracted, glancing out the windows as though she's expecting someone else to come through the door.
An elderly couple sits at a booth near the back, saying little and digging in to their large lunch-time breakfasts. A man sits alone at the counter, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. With a glance, Charlie sees a date on the paper - October 12th, 1989.
"That's a good look for you," Sabine says, a bit of color in her cheeks as she seats herself in a booth near a window. "Suits never go out of style, do they?"
There's an almost robotic quality to most of the other patrons in the diner. The man at the counter turns the pages of his newspaper, and appears to be reading it, sipping his coffee… he speaks to the waitress behind the counter, then looks at the paper again. Resets it to the first page, then starts to read through it again.
Moira looks surprised, then grimaces a little. "I probably shouldn't have said anything, but it's kind of an open secret, so… if you ask her about it, please just don't tell her I let it slip?"
"Abby is human. Has been since… I think the 1700s?" She leans forward a little. "Have you noticed the necklace she wears? It's not flashy, and she usually keeps it tucked under high collars. It's rumored to be an artifact that's frozen her in time." She shrugs. "Or maybe she isn't human. I tend to believe the former, but who knows? We are, after all, in the Strange."
"Kitty," Terri says, tapping her nose. "The soulshorn should learn to be more specific in his bargains, but that's not how people do."
"Oh yeah," Charlie says. He holds up his hands, now unnaturally black. "Tricking a devil wasn't on my bucket list, but it sort of was."
Upon returning to the Estate, Charlie finds that his Strange-hands are no longer black. He seems to have left the effect behind him in Ardeyn.
This draws a sigh even more relieved than finding out he doesn't have horns and hooves.
It is, in fact, Annie Blackburn who welcomes Charlie and Sabine in when the door to the café opens.
"Grab a seat, I'll be with you in just a few!" Her tone is friendly, but she seems distracted, glancing out the windows as though she's expecting someone else to come through the door.
"I guess Shelly has the night off," Charlie muses, then nods. Probably for the best. His eyes widen as he makes a realization. "She's waiting for Coop!" he squeaks.
"That's a good look for you," Sabine says, a bit of color in her cheeks as she seats herself in a booth near a window. "Suits never go out of style, do they?"
"I was going to say the same to you. Although I do miss the...the wings." He sits down and looks around, then lowers his voice, "Why do we change from recursion to recursion?"
There's an almost robotic quality to most of the other patrons in the diner. The man at the counter turns the pages of his newspaper, and appears to be reading it, sipping his coffee… he speaks to the waitress behind the counter, then looks at the paper again. Resets it to the first page, then starts to read through it again.
"What's with the NPC?" Charlie asks.
Moira looks surprised, then grimaces a little. "I probably shouldn't have said anything, but it's kind of an open secret, so… if you ask her about it, please just don't tell her I let it slip?"
"Your secret's safe."
"Abby is human. Has been since… I think the 1700s?" She leans forward a little. "Have you noticed the necklace she wears? It's not flashy, and she usually keeps it tucked under high collars. It's rumored to be an artifact that's frozen her in time." She shrugs. "Or maybe she isn't human. I tend to believe the former, but who knows? We are, after all, in the Strange."
Charlie's eyebrows go up. "Wow. I suppose I'm going to have to get used to this kind of thing."
Once again, if anyone is looking for Terry, all you need to do is sit still in one place for a while, and he passes through.
"I haven't even been here long enough to have questions for all my questions," Terry grins back. "Big change from the old job."
"The new faces thing took me by surprise," he says. "I hope that part gets easier with practice."
Terry thoroughly enjoys shooting the science fiction laser gun.
Terry returns the blaster, and slides off his ear protection. "This is really smooth," he says. "That was fun. What did you call it -- literary license? There's no other reason they should be such bad shots."
"Thanks for letting me shoot it."
Understanding dawns on Terry's face. "Ohhh a room for a bath of sound." He considers for a moment. "I might like that. Worth a try."
Terry lets Baruchiel take the second order. "Yes, a qephilim -- the Watcher of Roads," he says. "I tried to take a picture in my tablet mirror because I really liked how their colors contrasted with Kari's, but when I got back here and looked at the picture, the eyes seem to glow with that..." he gestures at Baruchiel "...light, and they follow you, so I don't feel right showing the picture to someone who wasn't there."
He raises an eyebrow at Abby. "Calling them angels was ... a bit reductive. My body knew they were ancient, and dangerous."
When it's his turn, Terry looks at the menu, and orders a beer with exactly 6.66% ABV. And salted peanuts. "We also encountered something called a soulshorn, which my body also felt was dangerous."
He shakes his head. "I really hope the dis-association stuff scales back with time. Although my Ardeyn body is kick-ass with a bow and arrow."
"If he made a kingdom of the Lonely Roads… he was more dangerous than he seemed." Meera responds simply, but sounds less sure now.
"Lonely Roads?" Kari asks, "Is that something specific in the Night Vaults or something else?"
"Kitty," Terri says, tapping her nose. "The soulshorn should learn to be more specific in his bargains, but that's not how people do.""Oh yeah," Charlie says. He holds up his hands, now unnaturally black. "Tricking a devil wasn't on my bucket list, but it sort of was."
Kari's attention snaps from her mug to Charlie's hands. "damn, sorry"
"On the upside, I doubt he was behind the star coming to Ardeyn or I don't think he'd have traded away the rod the way he did, but maybe I can find a thread to who he was when we visit Hazzurium." She smiles at the two boys, "At least neither of you gave him your name." She shudders, "I just don't like that he has a small part of each of us."
Upon returning to the Estate, Charlie finds that his Strange-hands are no longer black. He seems to have left the effect behind him in Ardeyn.This draws a sigh even more relieved than finding out he doesn't have horns and hooves.
A little smile, relief for Charlie, "You might want to follow-up with the infirmary to see if there is a way to lift curses or marks that are solely in your recursion body."
Thank you, Professor.
When Kari arrives in the infirmary, Aleph isn't attending, but a woman named Zaika is. She's got a zaftig build and perpetually rosy red cheeks that match her cheery disposition. She chats with you amicably while walking you down a hall and to a room with a closed door. She checks through the window before opening it and ushering you inside. "He's been giving Abby and Baruchiel nothing but a hard time, but I think he's finally getting antsy to get out of here and back to normal business," she says quietly.
"A good thing, right?" She pauses, "Or is he's trying to push it?"
Abby is the only visitor with Fenwick currently, and when she looks up to see who's come into the room, she smiles and waves.
"Hey! How lovely of you to visit!"
Fenwick looks exhausted; the skin around his eyes looks almost bruised, like he hasn't slept in ages. He waves, though, and gives Kari a smile.
"I was holding off on dying so I could hear the story about horny dwarves and short skirts," he says. Abby bops him gently on the arm.
"Quit it, you're not dying, don't scare people who don't know you better."
"Holding off on dying is good, but you shouldn't have held off on sleeping." Kari says, completely ignoring the dark circles under her own eyes. She gives Abby a smile, "Please tell me that you and Baruchiel are spelling each other at least some of the time, so you know he's well but you still rest yourself?"
"At least neither of you gave him your name." She shudders, "I just don't like that he has a small part of each of us."
"No, but I--" Terri slaps her hand over her mouth with an audible smack. "Sorry, bad joke. Filter goes down when I get tired."
Terry's workout clothes ... are not that much different from his regular clothes. The shirt is more ragged, and it has several small circular holes in it. The image is a faded screen print of three blurred rows of houses.
He does a wide variety of exercises. Resistance training, exercise bike, even some jumping around and punching at the heavy bag.
He seems to enjoy the ones that involve moving around more than the "stand here and do this ten times" reps.
He has his phone on him, but he can still be heard humming something quick and upbeat.
During his cooldown stretches, his back gives an audible crack, and he sighs, "Yeah, that's got it."
"Lonely Roads?" Kari asks, "Is that something specific in the Night Vaults or something else?"
Meera looks apologetic. "Sorry, that might be local colloquialism. There are many roads that lead to the Night Vaults, and that's what I've always known them to be called. The Lonely Roads. If you met a soulshorn, is it safe to assume it was in some lower level of the crypt? One that didn't quite match the dimensions of the upper level?"
"A good thing, right?" She pauses, "Or is he's trying to push it?"
Zaika hesitates before answering, looking at Fenwick through the window again. "I think it's a little of both. He's certainly not getting worse, but he could use more rest than he's actually giving himself. Aleph and I gently suggested that Abby and Baruchiel give him some space to rest, but neither seemed inclined to leave his side for long."
"Holding off on dying is good, but you shouldn't have held off on sleeping."
Abby gives Kari an exaggerated look of concern. "Look who's calling the kettle black! When was the last time you slept?"
Baruchiel gives a half smile. "Don't worry, we're here often, but have both ensured the other had a full night's sleep. We think Fenwick is just milking this for attention now."
"Hey!" He cries, looking affronted. Then coy. "Who wouldn't want the attention of such beautiful ladies?" The glance he gives Kari ropes her into his compliment.
"Pffffft," Abby says in response.
"More seriously, though… I think I'll be out of here in a few days. I hope to be. I think even with all the dire warnings, Lovecraftian recursions are full of some truly terrible things. Even worse that I ended up there without preparing for it."
As Kari makes her way from her own Point A to Point B, her path takes her near the café. As she passes the entrance, she can see the backdrop of the far wall, which is currently set to a rainy night on some European looking cobblestone street.
Someone leans against the podium, chatting up the woman at the counter, who laughs in response to something the person said. That person turns slightly, allowing a full view of their face.
They are beautiful. They are also completely androgynous in their beauty; with a shorn head, high cheek bones, dark eyes and the kind of tan that looks like it was obtained by loving the sun, rather than laying in a tanning bed. They're wearing a long coat made of feathers that glitter in the faux torchlight of the entrance to the café, and they have iridescent eyeshadow that extends into carefully manicured curls on the outer corners of their eyes.
"And that's how I ended up with the offer to become Queen. I turned them down, of course. I barely have time to rule myself, let alone a small recursion."
"She's waiting for Coop!" he squeaks.
Sabine looks delighted. "She is waiting for Coop! Isn't it wonderful? I'm hoping he stops in at least for a little bit while we're here, that would be the cherry on top of the cherry pie."
"I was going to say the same to you. Although I do miss the...the wings." He sits down and looks around, then lowers his voice, "Why do we change from recursion to recursion?"
"What's with the NPC?" Charlie asks.
"Believe me, I miss the wings too," she says, looking both pleased and embarrassed. At his follow up questions, her smile shifts into something more like 'a ha!'.
"Great eye. Noticed the paper reader, huh? Let me back up a bit and explain a little more about recursions." Her voice is low, she leans forward a little to speak with Charlie. "Outside of prime realities, like Earth, recursions are made up of people like him." She gestures towards the newspaper reader with a salt shaker. "They fill the world that has been created, but they are not aware they're in a recursion. They aren't aware that anything could be different than the lives that were written for them."
She leans back as Annie approaches the table. The waitress pours water for Charlie and Sabine, smiling in that still-distracted way.
"Do you two need a minute?"
Sabine hastily pulls the menu open.
"Sorry, yes, I still need a few."
"No problem at all, just flag me down when you're ready." Annie gives a moment's pause to make sure Charlie also isn't ready, and then she turns around to leave and check on another table.
"Anyway, Annie, for example. She goes through her routines, she goes to work, goes home, meets Cooper, goes through everything that's written in her story. Time in recursions like this, it's… circular. I focused on taking us here before things get dark and weird, or well…. Darker and weirder. But no one here, or in most smaller recursions, have the Spark. Having the Spark means being aware that there are other worlds than these. Being Quickened, like you and I, means not only do we know there are other worlds, but we can travel there."
She sits back in the booth, careful not to raise her voice or attract attention.
"So to answer about why we change from recursion to recursion… the main reason is that we as recursors must obey the physics of the world we've entered. I can't have my wings here because wings don't exist here. Even though this particular recursion is definitely not strictly standard physics, given the nature of the Red Room and Black Lodge. The other reason, which is more theory than fact, is that we are just expressing different versions of ourselves that naturally fit the recursion we've entered. If I came here with wings, even if no one actually noticed, or even if I could pretend they were just a quirky accessory, I would still feel… incorrect, presenting as my natural self. And lastly... if we presented as ourselves in a recursion, and if that self was totally foreign to the recursion, we might accidentally give someone the Spark. That's not always a bad thing, but in the case of Lovecraft, for example... we don't want to give anything the Spark there. That's partially why it's bannned."
"Sorry, that was a lot. Did any of that answer your questions?"
"I'm not sure there's ever any fully getting used to things around here," Moira says with a smile. "Well, if you've already got a pod set up with other Agents, and if they're interested, I'd be happy to run a full group training session as well. We have a lot of room to play in the training centers, so I can put you guys through some serious paces if there's interest." She raises her own tablet.
"Great job, though. You're a natural with the whip. I'll see you around, Charlie."
"I think the new faces thing only gets easier if you stop seeing new faces." She says honestly. "I should rephrase - it does get easier to accept that your face might look different when you go to a new world, but it can still be jarring."
Moira watches his stance, aiming, and firing technique. Her gaze is mostly the close scrutiny of a professional or teacher.
She takes the gun back and holsters it.
"No problem! And I think you're right. Storm Troopers must just have been written to be terrible shots, nothing else makes sense. They really designed their guns to be easy, and satisfying, to use."
"You know, not that you need it, but I am one of the weapon trainers here at the Estate. So if you ever want to play around with new guns, or anything else…" she slides the Estate tablet out and wiggles it. "I'm only a chime away."
Baruchiel orders her drink with less fanfare and scrolling than Abby did, and passes the menu to Terry.
"Yes, a qephilim -- the Watcher of Roads," he says. "I tried to take a picture in my tablet mirror because I really liked how their colors contrasted with Kari's, but when I got back here and looked at the picture, the eyes seem to glow with that..." he gestures at Baruchiel "...light, and they follow you, so I don't feel right showing the picture to someone who wasn't there."
At this, Baruchiel looks startled, then very interested.
"You helped Teremiel." She sits in stunned quiet for a moment. "What an… intense first assignment. That could have gone wrong five hundred different ways. And you took a picture of her?" She seems flabbergasted.
"I take it that's a big deal, then?" Abby asks, with the air of someone who knows it's a big deal and is just poking the bear.
"It's… one of the biggest deals there is. Teremiel was there at beginning of Ardeyn, with the Maker. She's…" she shakes her head. "I continue to be jealous on your behalf. I would have asked her so many questions."
"We also encountered something called a soulshorn, which my body also felt was dangerous."
Both women make noises about this, talking over each other at the same time. They both laugh.
"I wish my first time out had been so eventful. I think my first mission was something akin to getting a cat out of a tree." Abby says.
"I have a question, and I want to ask it respectfully." Baruchiel says to Terry. "But… no one in your group offended either entity… did they?"
"I really hope the dis-association stuff scales back with time. Although my Ardeyn body is kick-ass with a bow and arrow."
"I think that attitude specifically will help you with the dis-association," Abby says, getting serious again. The drinks and some foodstuffs arrive at the table; Abby drinks what looks like an old fashioned, Baruchiel has something that appears to be made of pink clouds, and Terry receives his 6.66% ABV beer, complete with a mug that has an old timey depiction of a demon on it. Peanuts, a bowl of what appears to be yellow strawberries, and more cheese curds. "Focusing on what you like about the new body and what it can do, and owning it. Realizing that it is your body achieving those feats."
As promised, in two days' time, Kari receives a notification that a class she's signed up for will be starting in two hours - giving her heads up in case she needs to wrap anything else up.
The classroom is in the Prime building, and there are three… or four? other people present; two women, a man, and what can only be called a stormcloud of energy that's located on a chair nearby. Sabine stands at the podium at the front of the room, using a quick gesture to pull something from her tablet up into a floating hologram on the board behind her. She's wearing a tunic and soft, leather pants, and when her feet are visible, they are notably bare. Her wings flutter occasionally as she moves material around on her tablet, the movement echoed in the hologram behind her.
She looks up and around the room with a smile.
"Hello! I'm always so glad when people express interest in recursion theory, because… well, I guess I just love talking about it." She finishes the sentence with a little bit of awkwardness. "This is a pretty unstructured session - I'll start with the basics, and you are all welcome to interrupt at any time with questions or comments. I prefer that to trying to stuff q's and a's into the end when everyone is burned out from listening to one speaker at length."
Sabine starts first with an explanation on how recursions are formed - the basics around writing a world, how many people read it and 'participate' in it, especially with the advent of fanfiction and fanart. She also discusses that recursions can be created on purpose using reality seeds, but that they're rare, expensive, and it takes a lot of effort and dedication to 'growing' a recursion.
She pauses quite a bit and is very engaged with the audience to make sure people aren't bored. No one in the room is there except by their own volition.
She explains that with only a few exceptions, most people in recursions do not have the Spark; "When a person knows there are other worlds,", and an even smaller subset of people with the Spark are Quickened, "When a person with the Spark can travel between worlds. We also call them Recursors."
Throughout the lesson, the images on the wall behind her are changing, showing still shots from various worlds. Of particular note here is when she talks about people with the Spark, and she shows a picture of Sherlock Holmes.
Sabine looks delighted. "She is waiting for Coop! Isn't it wonderful? I'm hoping he stops in at least for a little bit while we're here, that would be the cherry on top of the cherry pie."
"That's what we have to have," Charlie says, then catches himself. "I'm sorry. That's what I have to have." He blanches. "It's been a long time since I've been on a date, and I can't believe I'm here, and you look like that so I'm a little flustered."
"Anyway, Annie, for example. She goes through her routines, she goes to work, goes home, meets Cooper, goes through everything that's written in her story. Time in recursions like this, it's… circular. I focused on taking us here before things get dark and weird, or well…. Darker and weirder. But no one here, or in most smaller recursions, have the Spark. Having the Spark means being aware that there are other worlds than these. Being Quickened, like you and I, means not only do we know there are other worlds, but we can travel there."
Charlie nods. "Does anybody here have the Spark? Cooper maybe? The Log Lady?"
"So to answer about why we change from recursion to recursion… the main reason is that we as recursors must obey the physics of the world we've entered. I can't have my wings here because wings don't exist here. Even though this particular recursion is definitely not strictly standard physics, given the nature of the Red Room and Black Lodge. The other reason, which is more theory than fact, is that we are just expressing different versions of ourselves that naturally fit the recursion we've entered. If I came here with wings, even if no one actually noticed, or even if I could pretend they were just a quirky accessory, I would still feel… incorrect, presenting as my natural self. And lastly... if we presented as ourselves in a recursion, and if that self was totally foreign to the recursion, we might accidentally give someone the Spark. That's not always a bad thing, but in the case of Lovecraft, for example... we don't want to give anything the Spark there. That's partially why it's bannned."
Charlie listens closely and nods along. "I was wondering. This is fairly close to how I look in the real wor...sorry, Earth. But as you know, I look different in the Estate, and the same goes for Ardeyn. I seem to be the most mutable in my pod, and Brian has yet to change at all. In Ardeyn, for example, I'm pretty sure only his clothes changed. Terry, though, became a woman there. I initially thought it had something to do with self-image. Those who knew who they were, on a deeper level, stay relatively constant." He gestures at Sabine. "Those of us who are trying to figure out who we are mutate wildly." He indicates himself.
"I'm not sure there's ever any fully getting used to things around here," Moira says with a smile. "Well, if you've already got a pod set up with other Agents, and if they're interested, I'd be happy to run a full group training session as well. We have a lot of room to play in the training centers, so I can put you guys through some serious paces if there's interest." She raises her own tablet.
"I do. We just got back from Ardeyn. We had to put a qephilim back in the sky," he finishes with a shrug, like this is a mundane chore akin to cleaning groutwork. "We will most likely take you up on the offer. There's been talk on our group chat about team training."
"Great job, though. You're a natural with the whip. I'll see you around, Charlie."
"You're kind, professor. Thank you again for your time." Then Charlie awkwardly bows like Daniel LaRusso leaving Miyagi's dojo.
"That's what we have to have," Charlie says, then catches himself. "I'm sorry. That's what I have to have." He blanches. "It's been a long time since I've been on a date, and I can't believe I'm here, and you look like that so I'm a little flustered."
Sabine chuckles. "We do have to have the pie! If we left here without a piece of pie and cup of coffee, we did it wrong." She fidgets with her napkin a bit. "Same for me, though. I was so head-down in research for so long, I can't remember the last time I went on a date. I spent hours earlier trying to figure out what to wear, and… I guess it didn't matter, did it? I'm not even wearing the same outfit. Or the same body." She laughs. "So I'm glad we're on the same page."
Charlie nods. "Does anybody here have the Spark? Cooper maybe? The Log Lady?"
Sabine considers the question. "Cooper… I think he's close to having it. The right conversation could pull him over the edge. And I think he'd handle it well." She frowns. "I'm convinced the Log Lady has the Spark. But I'm not sure she's in a position to converse about how she experiences it. I tried, once. To talk to her about it, I mean. I didn't come at it directly, but approached her when I saw her in town once. She wouldn't let me touch the log, but I think it's an artifact of some sort."
"I was wondering. This is fairly close to how I look in the real wor...sorry, Earth. But as you know, I look different in the Estate, and the same goes for Ardeyn. I seem to be the most mutable in my pod, and Brian has yet to change at all. In Ardeyn, for example, I'm pretty sure only his clothes changed. Terry, though, became a woman there. I initially thought it had something to do with self-image. Those who knew who they were, on a deeper level, stay relatively constant." He gestures at Sabine. "Those of us who are trying to figure out who we are mutate wildly." He indicates himself.
She smiles. "I think it's another one of those multi-answer things. Is it knowing who you are, or is it being multi-faceted? Or both? Or something else entirely? I've always been a little jealous of people who experience recursions in very different bodies. But you're not wrong - I am, and always have been, fairly sure of who I am as a person. Maybe it's part of being fae? I'm not sure of that, either." She takes a drink. "What happened in Ardeyn? Who were you there?"
Moira laughs at his casual explanation of 'putting a qephilim back', and gives him a similar bow in return before Charlie leaves.
The group chat gets a message from Charlie. If everyone is interested in a group weapons training, I can arrange that.
Sabine chuckles. "We do have to have the pie! If we left here without a piece of pie and cup of coffee, we did it wrong." She fidgets with her napkin a bit. "Same for me, though. I was so head-down in research for so long, I can't remember the last time I went on a date. I spent hours earlier trying to figure out what to wear, and… I guess it didn't matter, did it? I'm not even wearing the same outfit. Or the same body." She laughs. "So I'm glad we're on the same page."
Charlie flashes a relieved smile.
Sabine considers the question. "Cooper… I think he's close to having it. The right conversation could pull him over the edge. And I think he'd handle it well."
Charlie makes a Tempting...! face.
She frowns. "I'm convinced the Log Lady has the Spark. But I'm not sure she's in a position to converse about how she experiences it. I tried, once. To talk to her about it, I mean. I didn't come at it directly, but approached her when I saw her in town once. She wouldn't let me touch the log, but I think it's an artifact of some sort."
Charlie's eyes bug out, then he undergoes a reality check. "Taking the log would be morally wrong," he says, mostly to himself. Then, a consideration. "Does this reality last through the show's continuity?"
She smiles. "I think it's another one of those multi-answer things. Is it knowing who you are, or is it being multi-faceted? Or both? Or something else entirely? I've always been a little jealous of people who experience recursions in very different bodies. But you're not wrong - I am, and always have been, fairly sure of who I am as a person. Maybe it's part of being fae? I'm not sure of that, either." She takes a drink. "What happened in Ardeyn? Who were you there?"
A moment of raw panic throws a shadow over Charlie's features. He considers a lie, but dismisses it. "I was a Man of Leng," he says with a sigh. "Horns, cloven hooves, the whole nine yards. It's not a pretty sight."
Charlie gives her a chance to respond to all of that. "I did get you something. I thought it might be nice, but now that I'm thinking about it, getting you something from Ardeyn would be like you getting me a touristy thing from Seattle. So I hope it's not too dumb." He pulls out a soapstone carving of a moon and sets it on the table between them.
The group chat gets a message from Charlie. If everyone is interested in a group weapons training, I can arrange that.
Terry responds with I'm in
Terry sticks his head into a reception area. ”I think I have an appointment for a sound bath,” he says, tapping his tablet. ”But the thing closed when I pressed the Schedule button, so I am not entirely sure.”
"Thanks," Terry says. "I found that in Ardeyn, I could shoot a bow like a champion. Here...." As he trails off, he waggles his hand from side to side, finishing in a thumbs down.
"So I may take you up on that." He taps his own tablet, and smiles. "Moira...with an A. Got it."
"...yes," Terry says. "I was looking at her in the tablet mirror and she locked eyes with me via the mirror, and that was when I suddenly knew what she was. From there, taking a picture seemed like a logical step."
"Was that rude?"
"no one in your group offended either entity… did they?"
Terry can't help himself. He laughs at this. "We did," he says. "I think Kari offended Teremiel with a question, and I know Charlie tricked Gulizar in a bargain."
"I was going to ask her about why she fell from the sky, but after Kari got under her skin a bit, I decided to keep my mouth shut."
Terry's laughter trails to a stop. "I'm sorry, I know that's not funny," he says, "but the expression on your face was so earnest. And we're a bunch of randoms on our first job. We probably offended half the people we met in Ardeyn, but mostly unintentional."
"You aren't going to offend me by being blunt. You'll have to try much harder than that."
"Focusing on what you like about the new body and what it can do, and owning it. Realizing that it is your body achieving those feats."
Terry takes a sip of his beer and eats a handful of peanuts. "The funny thing is that I didn't even notice until I looked in the tablet mirror. I would have eventually realized after all the beer, though...."
Terry puts his palm over his face, and shakes his head. "I kept freezing up a little any time someone said or did something to remind me."
Terry realizes he is having half a conversation, and fills in for Baruchiel, "I had a woman's body in Ardeyn."
"Wait, no--" he holds up a hand. "Take two. I was a woman in Ardeyn."
The man behind the counter smiles courteously, tapping a few times on the screen in front of him.
"Terry?" He looks up and asks. "You'll be working with Nim, they'll be out to escort you back to the room in just a minute."
The waiting area for the spa is as comfortable as any of the high end spas on Earth. Soft chairs, several bowls of fruits and nuts, and a dispenser with several different drinks (water, tea, etc). It smells faintly of lavender, a staple in any spa.
True to the estimate, Nim approaches the waiting area and leans around a corner to look for Terry. They are tall, cloaked in a white robe, though what's visible of their arms is all sleek cybernetics. Their face is genderless and tranquil, and their eyes glow a very gentle blue.
"Let's get you to the right room. It's a bit of a maze back here." They say, gesturing for you to follow them.
And they were right - there are many rooms that branch off of this twisting hallway, most with doors closed, a few that open into rooms cleaned and waiting for their next appointment. The room Nim guides you to is very dimly lit, with a creche in the middle of it, made of water. Or something that looks like water.
"I know what you might be thinking," they say, and Terry can hear a very faint electrical buzz underneath the tone of their voice, "but don't worry. This isn't water, and you won't get wet." They gesture to a panel on the wall. "There are choices you can make here, and you won't need to undress for this session."
The panel is not as overwhelming with choices as some of the other menus that Terry has seen around the Estate. Option for scents in the room, type of sound he's looking for (including a 'dealer's choice' equivalent), and lighting choices.
Charlie's eyes bug out, then he undergoes a reality check. "Taking the log would be morally wrong," he says, mostly to himself. Then, a consideration. "Does this reality last through the show's continuity?"
Sabine shakes her head. "Almost, but not quite. With the new work that was added to the story, it created its own recursion. The two will very likely meet and merge; this is actually one of my ongoing research projects. The merger of two recursions, and what it means for how the world behaves after the merge."
A moment of raw panic throws a shadow over Charlie's features. He considers a lie, but dismisses it. "I was a Man of Leng," he says with a sigh. "Horns, cloven hooves, the whole nine yards. It's not a pretty sight."
Her eyebrows pop up in surprise. "How interesting! That must have been very jarring for you… and oh, I didn't even think to ask, Agents are required to travel in groups now, yes? How did your companions react? Men of Leng are not known for their beauty." She tilts her head. "How did it feel to be in such a different body? Did you experience any alienation? " She takes a breath and holds her hands out. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to drop into research mode." She holds her tongue for maybe five seconds. "Do you feel like it didn't represent you? If not, what would you have chosen instead? Okay, now I'm actually done. Sorry." She tightens her lips together like she wants to ask more questions.
Sabine, for a moment, seems confused that there's a gift sitting in front of her. "I…" she takes the soapstone carving carefully off the table, bringing it up to her eyes and studying it closely. She smells it, wrapping her hands tightly around it and closing her eyes as she lowers it to the table, still clutched in her hands.
"It's been so long since I was able to attend a Seven Moons festival. This was such a thoughtful gift…" she opens her eyes again, looking at Charlie. "I don't think you know how thoughtful. I was born on a seven-moon-rise, and to have a little piece of home like this," she shakes her head. "Thank you, Charlie."
She starts and stops to say something else several times before she takes a deep breath and commits to unloading the thought in her head. "That you thought about me on your first trip to Ardeyn, when there was so much else there to see for the first time and occupy your mind… it's flattering in a way I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around in the moment. And I know it didn't seem like a big deal, but…" she tries to stop herself from talking again.
"Anyway, maybeweshouldordersomecoffeenow, beforeIgetweepy." The last bit is mumbled through a very embarrassed smile, followed by an unnecessarily long drink of water.
The heady smell of summer in a forest comes and goes in the space of one inhalation.
"I don't know, you handled the blaster pretty well. Next time we can try something with more kick." Moira replies with a wry smile.
"...yes," Terry says. "I was looking at her in the tablet mirror and she locked eyes with me via the mirror, and that was when I suddenly knew what she was. From there, taking a picture seemed like a logical step."
"Was that rude?"
Baruchiel makes a 'hmmm' sound. "I don't think so… I'm not sure she would have known what exactly it was you were doing." She tilts her head. "She might even have thought you were paying her homage, by refusing to look at her directly." Then she shrugs. "You probably aren't marked for death in Ardeyn."
As Terry explains his group's experience, Baruchiel's eyes grow wider and wider. And Abby looks overjoyed at her expression, bouncing her gaze between Terry and Baruchiel as she sips her old fashioned.
"Tricked a soulshorn… offended a star…" Baruchiel punctuates her sentence with a long drink, leaving a foamy pink cloud above her mouth that she wipes away in a hurry.
Abby has to set her drink down before she laughs it out of the glass.
"Now that," she says approvingly, "is a proper new-Agent kerfuffle you came back from. Bravo."
"Wait, no--" he holds up a hand. "Take two. I was a woman in Ardeyn."
Baruchiel finishes the rest of her drink as Abby says "Yes, you WERE a woman," she says, approving of the self-edit to his language.
"But you didn't meet a bunch of… randoms in Ardeyn. You met two powerful beings, and… Maker above." Baruchiel shakes her head after returning to Terry's previous story. "I'm sorry; you came back fine, you learned, and you're here with us, laughing. I should not be so…"
She brings up the menu and orders another drink. Abby laughs again.
"I haven't seen her this worked up since Fenwick…"
"Absolutely do not finish your sentence, Abigail Swain." Her companion warns.
"Okay… okay." She puts her hands up. "Anyway, now that you're sort of away from the situation… how do you feel about going through such a stark change?" She asks Terry.
Terry sticks close behind Nim, and doesn't get lost.
"I know what you might be thinking," they say, and Terry can hear a very faint electrical buzz underneath the tone of their voice, "but don't worry. This isn't water, and you won't get wet." They gesture to a panel on the wall. "There are choices you can make here, and you won't need to undress for this session."
"I'm thinking that I don't know much more than Abby told me about this, and she can be ... a little sparse on the detail," Terry says, a bit chagrined. "I have a bunch of questions now, but it might be easier if I just do this."
Terry studies the wall panel, choosing the scent of sandalwood, a general low light level, and dealer's choice on the sound.
He turns back to Nim. "er ... and now I...?"
Terry rubs his shoulder where a stock would rest. "I'm sore already," he says, "looking forward to it."
He takes his leave.
"You probably aren't marked for death in Ardeyn."
"How would we tell?" Terry asks. "That seems like useful info."
Terry takes a deep drink of his beer, and nearly chokes on it when Baruchiel goes into
"But you didn't meet a bunch of… randoms in Ardeyn. You met two powerful beings, and… Maker above."
"No no no," he sets his beer down so quickly, a little sloshes onto the table despite it being already half-empty. "We were the randoms. Brian, Charlie, Kari, and me."
"Whoops." He takes a napkin and sets it on top of the wasted beer.
Terry takes a handful of peanuts and munches on them thoughtfully one-by-one as he considers Abby's question about going through the stark change.
"It was a shock," he admits. "I'm still thinking about it. There are questions I have for myself."
He frowns at this, and looks away. "I don't know if I like their tone."
He looks back at the women, sighs, and adds, "but now I have been on both sides of the guy asking the woman if she wants a cup of coffee."
He rolls his eyes, opens his mouth, visibly thinks better of what he was about to say, takes another drink of beer.
"At least neither of you gave him your name." She shudders, "I just don't like that he has a small part of each of us.""No, but I--" Terri slaps her hand over her mouth with an audible smack. "Sorry, bad joke. Filter goes down when I get tired."
Kari looks at her cup for a long moment, then glances at Terri with a shrug, hopelessly lost as to what the bad joke would have been.
Meera looks apologetic. "Sorry, that might be local colloquialism. There are many roads that lead to the Night Vaults, and that's what I've always known them to be called. The Lonely Roads. If you met a soulshorn, is it safe to assume it was in some lower level of the crypt? One that didn't quite match the dimensions of the upper level?"
Kari nods, "We had to go down, yes." She shivers in memory, "It was fridgidly cold and we ran across Gulizar in a mushroom patch."
The group chat gets a message from Charlie. If everyone is interested in a group weapons training, I can arrange that.Terry responds with I'm in
'in'
Zaika hesitates before answering, looking at Fenwick through the window again. "I think it's a little of both. He's certainly not getting worse, but he could use more rest than he's actually giving himself. Aleph and I gently suggested that Abby and Baruchiel give him some space to rest, but neither seemed inclined to leave his side for long."
"I don't suppose you could just move in two more cots so they all sack out and that way they know he's safe but everyone actually gets the rest they need."
Abby gives Kari an exaggerated look of concern. "Look who's calling the kettle black! When was the last time you slept?"
"Technically I only woke up a hour or so ago, but that was in a world far far away."
"More seriously, though… I think I'll be out of here in a few days. I hope to be. I think even with all the dire warnings, Lovecraftian recursions are full of some truly terrible things. Even worse that I ended up there without preparing for it."
"But if you all aren't stuck in the infirmary then how will your junior agents harass you while on missions?"
Kari looks about to say something else, but gets a huh look, "I was going to say we didn't bring you back any treats from the festival but can you even bring something back intact from a recursion or does it metamorphose into what it would be here?"
"When a recursion forms on its own, from someone's story and from the interest that other people have in that story," Kari asks, "does it make a difference if the writer or the readers have Spark?"