Dr. Sepúlveda
Someone somewhere has to have written a handbook for apprentices, if not detailing the laws of reality then at least how to function now that the laws of reality have shifted. The Hollow Ones took up the effort sometime during the Ascension War, and if the two of them had any interest in the Digital Web they may have heard this story already. The Internet is a dark place full of faceless individuals warping reality with keystrokes. They don't have a handbook though. Not even a pamphlet with numbers to call in case of Paradox backlash or Marauder attack.
Or what to do when the lunatic who has taken you on as a student ropes you into a group text at two in the afternoon on a Friday with nebulous instructions:
If you aren't both at the house in 20 minutes I'm coming to collect you. There's a Situation.
Followed by fifteen iterations of the Stonehenge emoji.
That is the last they hear from him before they report to the house. Unless they don't report to the house. Then they're going to hear a horn blaring outside their residences an hour after the text message appeared.
Time is not on his side when he's in a fucking hurry.
Ned
Define Situation.
Ned's response comes across quickly, mere minutes after the Doc's has been sent. Followed of course by the rapidfire flutterings of several others.
Situation as in: bring some power tools and some elbow grease?
Situation as in: Bring a gun and a body bag?
Situation as in: Cake? Is there cake?
Situation as in: Are we going to War?
Regardless of the answers, Ned would arrive at the Doc's place sometime between 5 and 15 minutes from the initial response (bus schedules were a thing apparently), dressed in his simple wool coat, a pair of slacker jeans and a thick hoodie for comfort. His head is draped in the black toque (beenie) commonly associated with sailors and his cheeks and chin are beginning to grow a small layer of uniform stubble. He'd knock on the door, a frown on his features, shivering slightly in the wind-choked cold.
"...I'm hoping this is about cake."
Margot
Margot had been sitting in the middle of her English class when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. The device was fished from her pocket and glanced at from where it barely peeked out near her hip.
The message she found jolted her, and was read three more times to make sure she wasn't missing or misreading something. Then, with a quiet curse under her breath, she hastily packed her things into her backpack and left the classroom with a small apology and her head ducked. The nice thing about college was the professors wouldn't stop you if you needed to leave and go someplace, not like how a high school teacher would.
Twenty minutes was unrealistic from where Margot was. She had a very stressful drive between campus and the Doctor's house, with her phone buzzing distractedly in her pocket each time Ned fished for more details about what kind of a situation they were going into. When the clock struck the twenty minute mark in her dashboard she was still several blocks away.
Five minutes late, Margot's car pulled up to the curb out front and she hopped out of the driver's seat and hurried her way to the front door. Ned was there first, probably would've been invited in (or maybe they were waiting out front for her to arrive?). Whether Margot greeted them at the front door, or whether she knocked and found somebody answering to allow her in, she appeared the same:
Stressed, worried, pink in the cheek and bright in the eye. She was wearing a heavy red hooded sweatshirt with the University of Denver's logo on the left breast and splashed across the back as well, a pair of jeans, and brown riding boots that zipped up to her knees. She didn't carry anything with her, belongings left in the car no doubt, but she sounded breathless and concerned.
"What's going on?"
Dr. Sepúlveda
Unfortunately for Ned, the Doc is standing outside smoking a cigarette when he completes the trek to complete the final leg of his bus journey. His front lawn is desolate for belonging to a man who is capable of manipulating Life Patterns. Patches of dirty snow where the threat of spring has not yet melted it all away into the hibernating lawn. A dormant fruit tree stripped of its leaves. A garden hose the previous owners abandoned and did not bother to loop back up proper. It lies in a rusting heap behind the Etherite as Ned wrestles with the gate and asks him about cake again.
The Doc had not responded to any of the flurry of texts that preceded his own. He scowls into the wind and considers the question while taking another drag off his cigarette. The weather being what it is he is outside with only a cardigan and fingerless gloves offering him protection from the elements.
"Forget about cake, Edward." He isn't going to explain what's going on until Margot gets here. "This is about Science. We're going to do science shit today."
A beat. He pulls out his cell phone and considers the time. Didn't need to but it gives him a second to consider also that Margot and Ned did not arrive together.
"Actually, I should run to the store while we wait for Margot. I thought I would have to come peel you two away from whatever boring thing you were doing, this threw a big shoe into my cogs. Come on."
The Doc lives a klik away from a liquor store. By the time they go and come back (if Ned accompanies him; he's more than welcome to sit out on the front porch until the Doc gets back, but going inside to wait isn't an option) Margot has arrived and is knocking on the door.
What's going on.
As he's shifting the brown paper bag to his right arm and opening the unlocked front door:
"So, I've told you already I have no training in the Spirit Sphere, yeah?" He may have. He barely knows where he is half the time, let alone what he's already told anyone. "So, this morning, I am getting ready to leave, and I hear--"
They hear it too. Not as if on cue but as if the return of noise and presence in the house has triggered this. A pounding in the walls right by their heads. Insistent and almost frantic but not hard.
"--that. Do you hear that? All over the house, following me, like it's doing now, only whatever it is isn't showing up on any of my scanners--" He deposits the brown bag on the dining room table and starts rooting around in it as the pounding continues on the wall behind the fireplace. "--which has led me to deduce that either I've gone into a Quiet episode, which--" Canned laugh. Out comes a bottle of red wine. He continues talking as he moves into the kitchen, taking the insistent pounding with him. "--is very possible, ooooorrrrrr the fucking Gauntlet is preventing me from seeing what is happening, the fucking Gauntlet being the membrane between our world and the spirit world, remember, I know dick about the spirit world, and I figured in either case, the best course of action would be to invite you two to deal the situation."
They have been hoping for an opportunity to use their instruments.
Margot
Once they were inside and the knocking started up, Margot jumped a little as the sound had startled her. Not loud, but persistent and frantic. She pressed a hand into her chest to help slow the sudden uptick in her heart's pace and scowled thoughtful and concerned, staring at the wall where the sound came from as the doctor spoke. The Doc moved further into the house, taking his explanation and the haunting rapping noise along with him. Margot glanced briefly to Ned, then followed the Doc on in to continue to listen to him speak.
When he'd finished, the apprentices were quiet. Ned had looked at Margot expectantly-- apparently she was the only one here who had any insight into the spirit world at all. She glanced between them, then looked to the wall where the sound was now coming from-- a space beside the fridge. After a second of analyzing her brows knitted together into a frown and she reached deep into her pants pocket.
"All it's doing is knocking around, Doc. How long has this been going on?" And, regardless of the answer, she'd continue: "It's harmless right now. Not exactly 'be here in twenty minutes or I'm coming to you' level of urgent-- I had to come from campus."
As she griped, she freed from her pocket a small brown glass vial with a black rubber droplet for a lid. Either of them could take an easy guess at what was kept inside. Shaking the small tincture as she moved, Margot stood between the Doc and the wall and removed the dropper from its glass home. Certainly enough, the bright red of blood was to be found within. Filing it was a grim chore, one could imagine. A few drops of scarlet were scattered along the palm and fingers of her left hand, which she then pressed to the wall. Sensing, feeling, reaching for whatever might be behind.
----------------
Quither @ 8:49PM
EVERYHING IS SHINY AND CHROME!
Margot @ 8:49PM
[Arete 1: Prime/Spirit 1, Coincidental diff 4, -1 diff for Blood Tool]
Roll: 1 d10 TN3 (8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Ned
He didn't bother going with the Doc to the store. He had arrived with something like impatience and a touch of hesitation about everything and seemed ill-suited to diminishing that with a walk about. So the Doc goes off to retrieve his 'medicine' and Ned remains behind to wait for Margot's arrival. The other Apprentice arrives and Ned offers a quick smile and a nod. The Doc is coming back before he has a chance to explain that he doesn't know anything.
Then the door is being unlocked.
And the knocking begins.
and Ned is immediately looking at Margot as the Doc begins to explain things, a brow perked in question. He'd continue to stare at her, when she offered her piece to the Doc and then glanced in his direction.
Your bag. Not mine.
Followed of course by Margot plucking out a small vial and going about her version of 'business'. Ned's not idle. He's already moving around the Kitchen, eyeballing drawers and the counter space for the impressive store-bought knife set the Doc might have for cutting, dicing and preparing the meals he inevitably throws into his magic oven for preparation's sake.
Ned would be aiming for the small, triangle shaped pairing knife, avoiding the big flash of the bread knife or the butcher knife in favour of something faster and more manageable.
"Last time she and I did this, I had a golf club. That didn't work as well. Last time, it possessed some bodies and attacked us...and the knife makes me feel better." It was what he'd offer the Doc, just incase Sepulveda's penchant for pointing out their eccentricities got the better of him in this unknown circumstance.
Dr. Sepúlveda
<i>How long has this been going on?</i>
"I just told you. This morning. Pay attention."
The wine cork yelps as he yanks it free. The cork goes into the trash and the wine goes into a pint glass. Before he sets down the bottle he points its neck at the budding Witch.
"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Margot, campus isn't so far and you weren't learning anything anyway."
There is a knife block. All of the knives are sharp as the day they came off the assembly line and the Doc does nothing to impede Ned's rummaging. Doesn't even do much besides sip his wine until Ned explains what he's doing.
"What the shit, Edward? No no no no, no knives, knives make a mess. You want a weapon I'll go get a weapon. You two... keep... doing whatever it is you're doing."
When he swoops down the basement stairs pint glass in hand the knocking ceases but does not follow him. Margot can feel the humming of a resonance on the other side of the wall. The Gauntlet, to be specific. Whoever - or whatever - it is has been using Correspondence, Forces, and Spirit magic to produce a sound to penetrate the barriers. Its resonance feels like daybreak after a long darkness.
After a moment of consideration the knock comes again but the cadence and timbre change. Both apprentices can hear the essence of a question in it.
Margot
The Doc popped his wine open and began to glug it into a glass. He cautioned her about bullshitting-- it wasn't that big of an inconvenience getting here. She was hardly paying attention, though. Soon as her blood-sticky fingers pressed onto the paint of the wall her focus slipped away from listening to what the two others were saying. She was busy trying to interpret the humming twanging bright shiny question feeling she was getting from each <i>knock knock knock<i/>.
By the time she started blinking herself back to focus, the Doc had already gone down into the basement and left the apprentices in the kitchen.
"I don't think it's a--," she turned her head to look back, but stopped when she realized that Sepulveda had gone. "Where'd he go?"
After the answer (basement, fetching a weapon, you know, that stuff), Margot went on. She could at least explain to Ned what she was thinking.
"It's not a ghost. I don't think. I think it's one of Us, a witch or Worker or something. They feel really... bright. They're reaching through Space and the Gauntlet to reach out." The knocking had changed, and Margot had noticed it. As she finished speaking her eyebrows were quirked up with thought and curiosity, and her head was tipped to interpret and follow the sound.
"Hear that? Maybe it's an S.O.S.?"
Ned
"Basement."
Ned fires back at Margot as the knocking ceases with the Doc's departure. He's staring after their Mentor when he vanishes, the knife still clutched in hand and then around at the walls. It's only when the Doc has safely climbed out of earshot that Ned moves a bit closer to Margot, brow perked.
"Seems to be following him specifically. Does that mean whoever it is, knows the Doc? Doesn't seem to be paying you or I any attention."
A pause.
"The Doc's also not the most..." He struggles for a word for a moment before shrugging. "He's an asshole at the best of times. I imagine anyone caught in the outlying landscapes of the beyond, might not necessarily feel so kindly about him. So is this smart?"
Also: Given their last run in with potential entities from the beyond...he didn't have any Golf Clubs this time.
Margot
Ned edged nearer, and Margot looked over to him, curious as well as a little on edge. She eyed the knife in his hand for a moment, then looked back up to him. Listened to his theory.
"You have a point," she agreed, then looked down at her left hand-- the one with blood on it. She rubbed her fingertips together, feeling the tackiness of the drying blood. Moved to the sink and began to wash the red from her hands.
"Is what smart? Helping the Doc?" She made a sarcastic sound, kind of a snort, and flicked her fingers dry once she was finished washing them. Turned off the tap and hunted for a towel to dry with.
"Of course not. But we have to anyways. He's our Doc. With all that he's done for us, crotchety and eccentric though he may be?" She made a bit of a face and hung the towel on the oven-contraption's handle. Straightened it anxiously while she added: "I mean, if we don't help, who will?"
Ned
"You're assuming that we can help."
Ned's marching around the younger Apprentice, eyeballing their surroundings. Part of him was focusing on escape routes, while other parts were setting up barricades with the various furnishings throughout the Doc's home. He could envision blocking off the kitchen with the Dining room contents, but moving the table into place would take some time. Might be better to pre-emptively-
"I'm not suggesting we don't, but I am curious as to who or what could possibly want to come through and talk to him or at least interact somehow. If this is a threat and it's capable of not just communicating but moving across the boundary between worlds...well that means you're our only real defense against any potential issues someone like that could bring up." He glances at her, a brow perked.
"All I'm saying is, there are a lot of factors here that could go really wrong and us being here? Doesn't alleviate many of them beyond well-" He holds up his dinky little knife which, after all's said and done, is looking a lot more simple and pathetic by now.
Margot
While Ned prowled about the first level of the house, considering kitchen and dining space and their potential for fortitude, Margot stayed still. She remained in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter with her hands in the stomach pocket of her hoodie and her ankles crossed casually. Her eyes followed Ned while he marched about.
"There's a lot we can't do. If we dwell on that then we're going to start worrying more about our limitations than our abilities. Maybe we can't help <i>much</i>, but..."
She furrowed her brow and leaned to the side, craning her neck to peer toward the basement. Was the knocking still happening? What on earth was the Doc looking for again?
"At least I can say for sure that it's Magic, like us. Branded magic. It's a some<i>one</i>, not a some<i>thing</i>. Didn't know that before, so that's helping."
She straightened up again and looked at Ned. Down to the knife in his hand, then back to his face. "I know this will sound weird coming from me, but maybe it doesn't have to be a fight?"
Ned
"That's fatalistic."
One might be tempted to laugh at that, coming from Ned but then, he's a pragmatic man, not a doomsayer. He's marching throughout the house, trying to put two and two together on what bits and pieces they can use to indeed, barricade and fortify.
"We're not going to be able to help the Doc do or perform as Awakened, but Horror movie rules apply. Something terrifying coming through from the other world...we try as many different things on it, that could potentially hurt, harm or fuck-up something that's part of this reality. That's a lot of options available...even if we're not the best potentials for making use of them."
Ned points at the stove.
"We've got Gas...Electric? Explosions are plausible. Enough sharp edges to make a pin-cushion out of anything with a body or vital organs. Corners, walls and furniture for hiding and moving around. A pretty good idea as to the Doc's house layout if we need to make an escape." A pause, hand rising to scratch at his head. "Only thing I'm worried about is the neighbours hearing and calling the police but I suppose that's not gonna be helped one way or another."
Another pause, frowning.
"In fact, they might just be inured to living next door to the Doc by now."
Dr. Sepúlveda
That knocking hadn't ceased so much as it had moved on from the kitchen. Or away from their hearing. They distract themselves as their mentor imagines they distract themselves most nights: by speculating and speaking about possibilities.
The neighbors could hear a commotion and think they might need to intervene. That is a legitimate concern.
As if to serve as punctuation to Ned's suppositions something glass crashes and shatters on the floor downstairs. Then someone starts yelling. It isn't their mentor. Not at the moment they register said commotion, anyway.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH" says a woman they've never met before.
If they had a bet riding on whether Dr. Sepúlveda had soundproofed his lab, whoever had money on "lol no" would be cashing in about now.
Margot
The determined march to plot and map the house in the event of an attack took Ned out of shared space for a minute here or there, but the house wasn't big enough to get lost in. She could still hear him around the bends, through doorways and archways while she remained in the kitchen. At a point he circled back, after all, and used the stove as an example while ticking off the many ways this house could be used to kill them. If he paid attention he could see the exact moment where Margot switched from following on suspended belief to skepticism winning over. He concluded that the neighbors might be too numb after living next to the doctor for so long to call the cops, and Margot stared at him with her head tipped to the side, expression incredulous.
She'd opened her mouth to start telling him how out of hand that was getting, but the crashing cut her off. Her eyes widened, posture stiffened, much like a deer who caught scent of a hunter in the wind. Then came the shouting-- a female voice, unfamiliar, calling the doctor something that was mean but she couldn't disagree with Ned on the fact that he likely deserved it.
Ned had a small knife. Margot had nothing but her hands and feet. But she still pushed away from the counter and darted out of the kitchen, to the basement door where she'd take the stairs two at a time running down.
Unless, of course, Ned found it prudent to stop her.
Ned
He did.
A hand reached out to grab her by the shoulder, pull back sharply in an effort to stall her rush down the stairs. It was easy to get wrapped up in the 'Someone's in trouble!' mentality, but that didn't forgive the fact Anger + Reality altering powers = Potential shitstorm below. Before Margot makes it to the doorway, he's caught her and is shaking his head, finger up by his lips in an attempt to keep her quiet.
"Slow. Take it slow. You go rushing down there....either of us do and it could spook whoever it is, into unloading something unpleasant. Crowded someone who is panicked is a surefire way for us to get turned into getting set on fire, turned into primordial soup or a dingo or something...just take it slow, one step at a time and we'll give them a chance to settle themselves down or let the anger burn out a bit."
Life as an orderly gave Ned a bit of prudence where circumstances like this were concerned. Sure they could hurt themselves. One another. Both for all they knew, but two down or harmed was better than all four, when the Cops arrived due to Reasons and Explosions!
Ned leans out to check the knifes in the block, releasing Margot's shoulder in the process. He thumbs through the bunch, before deciding on one of the smaller vegetable cutting knives. He hands the pairing knife, the smaller of the two, off to Margot with a nod and than turns the knife he has around so the blade is running along his forearm, barely visible when he lowers his hand by his side. He moves to begin going down the steps at a slow and measured pace, careful to try and make as little noise as possible.
Dr. Sepúlveda
After that initial outburst the argument they can hear beyond The Door Through Which They Have Been Expressly Banned From Passing devolves a bit. Stays in English for a few exchanges most of which involve the Witch calling the Scientist names while the Scientist voices half-assed petitions for calmness.
Then there's another crash and unless Margot or Ned speak Spanish they cannot decipher what exactly the two are hollering at each other about. The Witch speaks with a Dominican accent while Sepúlveda speaks with a thick Mexican one. It makes it difficult to follow even if one has studied Spanish.
By the time they reach the bottom of the stairs silence has descended upon the house. It's a breath-held silence but a silence all the same. The door to the Etherite's laboratory remains closed and ominous.
Margot
She was a quick thing, Margot. Ned had seen her hustle before. He was getting to know her, though, and saw her intent written all over her face before she even moved. She was going to go charging in, and sure enough she shifted to move. Anticipating this, he caught her shoulder before she could zip her way out of the room astoundingly <i>quick</i> as she was known for being elsewhere in Smalltown, USA.
Slow down. Take it easy, don't get us killed.
Margot stared at him for a second with wide eyes, but stilled all the same. Drew in a deep breath, then a second one (both trembling ever-so slightly on the draw in and whoosh out). Ned started walking forward, and Margot followed suit not far behind him with slow, soft steps.
But the shouting downstairs was loud, and she could make out the words on the other side of the kitchen wall-- name calling and flared-up defensive pleading for calm. Forgettable dialogue, really, it was all the same regardless of who was shouting at who over what. Behind him, Ned could hear Margot's breathing-- shaking and quivering audibly, like she was trying to stave off a panic attack, or perhaps an asthma attack? Had he ever seen her carrying an inhaler?
Then the yelling switched over to Spanish-- indistinguishable and passionate. Something else smashed, and Margot gave a startled cry aloud-- strangled shouting of fear and dismay.
The shaking spread from her voice to her limbs, and she stopped walking after Ned. Stood still in the middle of the dining room instead with her eyes closed tight and brought her hands over her ears to cover them up. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto the front of her hoodie, and she shook her head as if continuing to deny the anxiety and stress of the shouting would actually make it stop.
Margot @ 1:58PM
[PTSD!]
Roll: 5 d10 TN9 (3, 3, 4, 6, 7) ( fail )
jamie @ 1:58PM
[in a move no one saw coming...]
Ned
"Go back up upstairs. Drink some water. Count to ten. Slow, deep breaths. Do not come back down here. I'll call up when it's ok or when we're coming up."
A series of sharp and static responses, carefully placed with co-ordinated touches to shoulders, hands and arms. Assurances that she isn't alone at the moment and that reality is still here. Brief flashes of Ned's eyes infront of hers, on the stairs. Gentle nudges. Pushes. Insistent if tender, toward the light at the top of the stairs and the kitchen there. Somewhere along the way, she would be relieved if the Knife he'd given her. Somewhere along the way, his voice would drown out any further shouting that might occur. He's careful and breathing loudly, as if to give her own lungs a rhythm to follow.
"Breath slowly. In one-" Inhale "-Out one-" Exhale "-In one-" Inhale "-Out one-" Exhale. "Upstairs. Sit down. Glass of water. Breathe."
Ned @ 3:06PM
(Expression 2 + Charisma 2: Calm down and go back upstairs, Margot)
Roll: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
* * * * *
"Doc!"
From the other side of the 'Electro-door'. Ned's voice is clear and concise. Practiced and even.
"Gimme an indication everything is clear and ok inside or I'm calling the Police."
Of course, his phone is in his hands and he's eyeballing the screen.Thumb hovering over a button.
Margot
It's tough to say whether the Doc and his 'guest' would be able to hear Ned and Margot in the stairwell. A silence had descended upon the basement and laboratory around the time that Ned got her turned around and was ushering forward momentum back up to the first floor.
<i>Do not come back down here</i>
"But she's going to--!"
<i>No, she's not.</i>
"But he'll kill her! He'll--"
<i>No, you're here now. Breathe.</i>
The scene was a familiar one to an orderly-- any number of people must have come through the hospital doors in similar states. It gave Ned an advantage in knowing what to do and say, that he should be firm but gentle and persist in getting her away from the fighting and crashing that clearly triggered this panic. Up the stairs and toward the kitchen. Glass of water. Breathe. Breathe.
She wouldn't go back downstairs (barring massive crashing or screaming or signs of extreme danger that would require stalwart heroism), but instead settled to wait in the living room under a blanket dredged up from anywhere.
Dr. Sepúlveda
While Ned is talking Margot down from the edge of a panic attack:
The woman neither of them has seen before has been waiting for the Etherite to head into his laboratory ever since she first began making herself known to him but for whatever reason he was staying clear of it until he wasn't alone in the house. Seems counterintuitive that a technomancer's lair would have created a weak spot in the Gauntlet but it's a place of power and a place of Quintessence whether or not he wants to concede that it is indeed a place where magic happens.
In the silence there's a standoff. They've talked themselves into stillness and the stillness affords them time to stare at each other both of them sure the other one can kill them if they are a hair slower and then he reaches for something she doesn't recognize. Anything in the laboratory could be a weapon in the hands of a Mad Scientist and she isn't going to afford him the opportunity to use any of them.
It's difficult for her to Work in here but as much as Sepúlveda wants to talk shit about magick they have this in common: what she does is not magick. It's Medicine. So when she curses him with nothing more than words those words carry strength.
Reality appears to have her back in this fight. He drops the device he was reaching for and a short series of bangs and crashes follows in its wake.
<i>Doc!</i>
It isn't the young man's mentor who answers his ultimatum.
A moment that feels like a pressure change as whatever energies normally running through the door stop running. A taste of atmosphere. Maybe Ned's ears pop. Then the door opens.
Out steps a tall dark-skinned young woman who isn't much older than Ned is. Soon as she sees him a flash of fury brightens her already-bright green eyes. Her resonance suggests healing power but nothing about her appearance supports such an intent. Her skirt is torn and stained at the knees and her blouse is streaked with the remnants of slash marks. She wears her black hair in braided knots about her scalp, and silver hoops through her nose and ears. Wraiths have eyes like hers but wraiths cannot take corporeal form unless they are quite powerful.
Tattoos adorn her skin too many places to catalogue considering she's dragging Sepúlveda out of the laboratory by one wrist. He puts up no fight. Whatever happened in there stunned him but he is not unconscious. Separating a Mad Scientist from his tools is the surest way to cripple him but she wasn't counting on this particular Mad Scientist having a cabal. Or students. Or... well.
"You call the police," she says, husk-voiced and it's hard to tell if she always sounds like this or if it's the result of her ordeal, "and I swear on all you hold dear, I will burn this place to the fucking ground." Her eyes flick around the basement and locate a pipe in the corner. She continues dragging the Etherite. "This doesn't concern them."
Ned
"You don't get to decide that."
It's Ned's immediate response. The first thing out of his mouth when she emerges through the 'No-no Door' (Sorry Margot). He tries to keep his tone calm and rational, low enough that it doesn't spook or startle any possible reaction from upstairs (Margot coming down here crying and potentially screaming, would be about as good for the situation as a bullet). At the same time, he's making his intentions fairly clear.
Ned gauges the space between him and the door when it swings open. A solid ten feet. He keeps that distance measured when she emerges, backing up and swinging around to follow her gaze where it leads. He takes a glance himself, at the pipe, a frown leaping onto his features before cutting back to her quickly (never take your eyes off the patient for longer than it takes to blink).
"Different time, different world than you're immediately used to. That means whatever beef you have with the Doc and it's considerable, I have no doubt...you need to take a check on just what you're doing and just where you are..."
A pause, eyes darting around the basement as if he's looking for something...or someone.
"Because last I checked, intrusions like yours bring consequences and you didn't bother checking to see that he had others in the house when you came over. Or the fact that there are others connected to him as well. The Police are my passive attempt to get you to at least consider that we should talk about this...You do anything hasty and unpleasant beyond just calling him or me names and suddenly I have to press the other button that gets a half dozen others the Doc's acquainted with over here in that quick sort of way that Corr makes little problem about...and then you can explain to a few Hermetics of House Flambeau, just what the hell you did and why they should care that you lit up the Doc's house with a Gauntlet breach while the Techies are watching us like hawks..."
It wasn't...technically a lie. It was just a summary of information Ned has put together, brandished by paranoia and accumulated over weeks of misinformed half-truths. It sounded plausible though, yeah? At least to someone fresh on this side of the world.
Ned's holding the knife. Incase she doesn't go for it, but he is brandishing the phone, thumb hovering over the touch screen, eyes locked on hers, bodily between her and the pipe she's been eyeballing.
Dr. Sepúlveda
<i>and you didn't bother checking to see that he had others in the house when you came over</i>
By the time Ned has reached this point she has dragged Sepúlveda clear across the room to the pipe she was eying and he has started to regain his senses. From where he stands, the Disparate can see the Etherite's eyes are open and he's attempting to discern what the hell is going on but he is not reacting as he would have normally.
Ned has seen his share of concussions in a hospital setting. The disconnect and the grogginess are apparent right away. No physical injury presents itself but the Doc is presenting like someone with a bruised brain. Beyond that: he's silent. In someone as hyperactive as Sepúlveda that's a pretty solid indication that he's not feeling all that great.
The woman's nostrils flare as he makes his threat. Her chest works to maintain calmness as he continues on. Eye contact does not bother her. Her eyes scream green fire back at him.
"Boy," she says in a voice gone sepulchral, "you press ANY button, we're really gonna have a problem."
They already have a problem. She's yanking Sepúlveda up by both wrists and trussing them behind the pipe like she's going to handcuff him.
<b>catalyst</b>
INITS + 6
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
<b>Ned</b>
Initiative! (7 +...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
<b>catalyst</b>
That was for Rhianna. This is for Doc + 6
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
<b>catalyst</b>
Doc +16
Rhianna + 11
Ned + 10
Declares!
<b>Ned</b>
(Split action:
1) Blind Rihanna with Iphone Flashlight
2) Body slam (WP)
<b>catalyst</b>
Rhianna: Arrest the Flight of Arrows rote
Doc: "GET TO THE CHOPPA"
Rhianna Rote: Arete 3 and yadda yadda modifiers and what
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (2, 4, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
<b>Ned</b>
(Ned bouncing: Damage = 3 yards + 3 Ned's Strength, Bashing)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5) ( fail )
<b>Ned</b>
He charges. The glimmer of the forcefield that suddenly blooms is brief, perhaps almost non-existent but the Young Apprentice seems to pause out of reflex. Enough that smacking into it, is more of a narrow scrape that sends him shying off to one side, rather than ricocheting off with the bloody nose or a broken bone. He pinwheels slightly, the flashlight on his phone strobing the basement...
....The phone begins to play 'The Trooper' by some errant flutter of fingers, clicking exposed touchscreen buttons, as Ned comes to a halt on one knee, cursing rather loudly, adrenaline on surge. Then he's dive bombing for the 'No-No door', clutching at his phone and hoping for a slide into second and (briefly) out of line of sight.
<b>catalyst</b>
DOC-Grapple
Dice: 4 d10 TN5 (4, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
<b>catalyst</b>
Should be 2 suxx, that was diff 6 not diff 5
<b>catalyst</b>
RHIANNA - Grapple
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
<b>catalyst</b>
Rhianna- Life dice!
Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (3, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
<b>catalyst</b>
Doc Stamina Check
Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (2, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
<b>Ned</b>
(Forces 1 + Matter 1: Reverse Engineering Visualization. Diff 1 + 3 - 1 for Tools (Touching the shit out of various handheld instruments. WP down to 3)
Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Margot
Downstairs, a solo Apprentice dealt with a situation outside what he would reasonably be able to handle on his own. His mentor was stunned, some strange woman having thrown up a kind of force field about herself that stopped Ned's bodily throwing himself toward her. Maybe he'd hoped to tackle her into the wall? He might not have thought the plan out much further than <i>forward!</i>. Things weren't going very well, and some back up could really be helpful.
Upstairs, Margot stood in the kitchen with the blanket over her head and around her shoulders, scrubbing her own bloody handprint from the doctor's kitchen wall. She was breathing and counting in her head. Thinking of trees. The ocean. Sunbathing. Unable to hear anything happening down below, she'd continued what Ned had left her with. Spied the handprint while by the fridge with her glass of water. Sipped, gone to cleaning.
Downstairs: <i>"Fucking damnit!"</i>
Margot looked sharply and immediately to the door to the basement. Was that Ned? Eyes wide, she wavered there in the kitchen. He said he'd come upstairs or call to her, but things didn't sound good.
A waver on the spot, then a decision: Why would he know that he had what was happening below them under control?
<i>Breathe in (one), breathe out (two)</i>. A gulp, and Margot stepped toward the basement, leaving the blanket on the floor behind her when she stepped away.
The basement stairs creaked, and upon them appeared little Margot Travers, no longer shaking but pale and wide-eyed and very much resembling a rabbit who suspects a fox. Finding the woman and Doctor on the other side of the basement had what little color was left in her face washing away even further, and unable to stop the words from falling out of her mouth she cried out, sounding miserable and scared and shrill: "What are you doing?!"
Margot @ 4:57PM
[WP: How together can you pull your shit, kid?]
Roll: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Tithe @ 4:58PM
[Witness.]
Dr. Sepúlveda
To answer Margot's question:
The stranger had removed what looked like diamond dust from a pouch in her pocket and thrown it at Ned to form a barrier between herself and the kids. Then she had returned to the task of binding Sepúlveda so he would be unable to use his hands.
If she were binding him with twine it would be one thing. But after sitting on his legs so he wouldn't squirm as much, she crossed his wrists one over the other behind the pipe and molded the bones together.
Suffice to say that shit hurt. Sepúlveda has the dregs of his wits left about him though and other than a few unhappy noises he does not scream. That's all he needs is for Margot to have a nervous collapse on the basement floor.
The stranger gets to her feet and leaves Sepúlveda sweating and panting behind her. Turns her furious gaze to the girl and swallows down her reflexive response.
"He and I have unfinished business," she says.
"What part of 'stay in the car' don't you two understand?" Sepúlveda asks.
Ned
"Are you a Nephandi?"
It's the first word from Ned that Margot will have heard since arriving on the stairs. A quick back and forth crossfire of questions from the Apprentices at opposing ends of the basement entrances. Ned wasn't visible but the open door carried his voice out into the basement space easily enough. They can hear his sneakers squeaking on the Doc's laboratory floor, the sound the occasional mechanical piece being disturbed or pushed around.
"...Or are you one of these Tradition mages were keep hearing about? The ones who are supposed to be working together to do something about the state of the world?"
If it sounds sarcastic, that's because it is. Ned's opinion of the traditions was rapidly declining with time and he'd only been awakened for a few months now. More rattling of mechanical things, more sneaker squeaking.
Margot
The woman had been crouched down by the Doc, but stood up to look at her, stare right back when she answered.
Through the open door to the Doc's lab (Margot would <i>never</i> call it a No-No Door, no matter how much Ned pushed it), she heard sneakers squeaking about and things tussling about. Ned shouting out to the woman and demanding to know what she was. Her head turned, eyes hopping quickly to the door. Relief, to hear him moving about and speaking clearly. Ned was okay, at least, but Doc... Margot was watching him now, the sweat beading on his forehead and face twisted up with pain. She chewed on her lip anxiously, but finished walking down the stairs all the same.
Once on the same level, she gradually edged toward the Lab door. Her breathing was visible in her chest and her shoulders, the wild fret clear in her wild eyes. Where the force field bent diamond-barely-there-visible in the air she wouldn't go near, but she didn't seem worried about analyzing it for weak spots or making any efforts to challenge or get around it. She was far more concerned with the people behind it.
"Doc...,?" she said, still sounding miserable. Checking in on him-- <i>are you okay? who is this? what's going on?</i>
Dr. Sepúlveda
When their mentor groans now it's a sound born from a combination of physical pain and visceral reaction to Ned's questioning. He coughs and tests the shackles the woman has made of his wrists and coughs again. Lets his head thunk against the pipe.
<I>Doc...? </I>
"She's not... holy shit this is unpleasant. 'Nephandi' is... is plural, Edward, you want to ask if she's a--"
"SHUT UP." He shuts up. Doesn't go completely silent as he's breathing hard and shifting around on the floor in an attempt to alleviate the pain in his arms but he does stop talking. The stranger goes on, "No, I'm not a fucking Nephanda. I'm a so-cha of Kha'vadi, and this MANIAC--" She points a finger at Sepúlveda. "--trapped me in the Deep Umbra when one if his bloody EXPERIMENTS backfired."
"It didn't back--" Okay wriggling his fingers makes it worse good to know. "--backfire. I was interrupt--"
"SHUT. UP." He shuts up. She turns to address Ned whether he's visible or not. "Your Flambeau friends have no sway here, boy. This is between me and him."
Margot
Ned wanted to know if the woman was a Nephandi (Nephandus, Nephanda, whatever), and he got part of his answer before he began shouting out through the doorway again. Margot cringed, visibly-- the woman would see her startle and cringe and lift her hands as though to clamp them over her hands. But she stopped herself halfway, took a deep breath, and kept it together. It nearly came crumbling around again, the startled spike of stress and adrenaline stabbing in her chest made her feel like her breath was going to squeeze right out of her lungs and never come back. But nobody was charging, strangling, or attacking. The Doc was in a rough state but the woman hadn't killed him yet and if she wanted him dead then he certainly would be by now. Maybe she and Ned would be already too?
Speaking of Ned--
He gets to complaining about the 'Between him and me' thing before it was Margot's turn to interrupt, swinging her head and shoulders through the doorway into the lab and shouting back in a voice that cried exasperation.
"Ned! Jesus Christ, <i>please!</i>"
A moment, a pause to find him in the room and see what he was doing. To watch him knock something over and break it.
Closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and looked back out to where the woman and the Doc were. Didn't demand answers from her any further than Ned has done for the both of them, but watched and hoped the temper she had for the Doc was less of an inferno for a couple of kids.
Margot @ 3:11PM
[The Scene Where Margot Just Keeps PTSD Checking]
Roll: 5 d10 TN9 (1, 3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 1 )
Dr. Sepúlveda
"Jesus Christ," Sepúlveda says, "will everybody just c--" Ow. "--calm down?"
The Witch who is currently holding their mentor hostage has one eyebrow raised as if she can't wrap her brain around the scene into which she's walked. Clearly thought the kids would stay upstairs and not run to intervene. Or else was acting on impulse more than anything else. Angry shamans make mistakes too.
"I told them."
"You told them what?" the stranger asks in a taut tone.
"What a... Dreamspeaker is."
"Motherfucker--" Now is not the time for arguing about semantics. She sighs hard and asks, "These your apprentices?"
Cough. "Yep."
"You know, I would have called first, BUT I AIN'T GOT NO CELLPHONE RECEPTION IN THE FUCKING SHADOWLANDS."
"If you two don't go back upstairs..."
Silence stretches on for more than a few seconds. Both of the stranger's eyebrows are aloft now.
"'If they don't go back upstairs...?'"
"What?"
"What's gonna happen if they don't go back upstairs."
"If who doesn't go back upstairs?"
Her nostrils flare. From the looks of it, leaving his ass tied up behind the forcefield is beginning to sound pretty appealing.
Ned
Meanwhile...
"I told you to stay upstairs, for fuck's sake..." It begins as a shout and cuts out into a heated whisper, halfway through "told". Ned is standing a good six feet from the door to the laboratory, hands clutching several differences of which there are no manuals or distinct visual impressions on what they could possibly do. There's more broken glass on the floor beside one of the Doc's counters and several other gadgets and doo-dads sitting on the counter top that have been piled up in some sort of assembly line effort. Ned might have just decided to try each one in succession until he ran out? Or was turned into a primordial goo of some sort, whichever came first.
"Also: Jesus? Really? You remember you're a witch now, yeah?" A bit of sarcasm, something like a gun with a flat, broad dish for a barrel and a weird spring grenade looking thing with a cylindrical keyboard where the fingertips would go in either hand, Ned steps forward to stare Margot in the eye, brows furrowed and pinched together.
"There isn't anything-" He pauses, hands sagging at his sides "-I doubt there's anything we can do about this situation but unless she fixes what she did to the Doc, it's going to be one hell of an unpleasant afternoon."
Followed of course, by a louder conversational tone, past Margot's shoulder.
"Unless of course, Ms. Vengeance wants to try civility for a change? Or you know, pretending at being human for a wee bit?"
Margot
The mess that Margot found in the lab almost shocked her enough to knock her out of the stress of the situation at hand. There was a lot of disbelief happening-- disbelief at the state of things behind Doc's lab door, at the mess on the floor and the number of contraptions that were strewn about on different surfaces after being tested and discarded. At the number of devices Ned was holding onto, as though he could somehow make use of <i>something</i> in here.
Margot stayed in the lab's doorway, but when Ned yell-whispered and stepped forward toward her she cast a half-glance back at the Disciples by the pipes, then stepped further into the lab, briefly out of sight of the other two. Right into Ned's stare and scowl and sarcasm.
"What does that even--," she started, looking at him with a knit of insult to her brow, but soon cut herself off and shook her head. He was calling past her and out into the basement anyways. The last bit had the little witch making half-strangled gestures in the air between them, though, and hissing in an undertone: "Holy shit, so you're going to keep <i>insulting</i> her?!"
"Just..." Frustration in her hands and the lines of her face, but she calms them both enough to gesture for calm. Downward patting on empty space in the air. Just bring it down a notch.
Another breath, and she called out as though to replace the question with her own.
"Were you going to kill him?"
Dr. Sepúlveda
"No." A straightforward answer to a straightforward question. Voice raised because she's still angry and the kids are still in the other room. "But now I'm starting to consider it."
"They're always like this," Sepúlveda says. "You should... you should see them at the... grocery store. Just... boundless paranoia... I don't know how the boy-child rides the bus, with all the germs and Marauders and homeless p--"
"I will zip your mouth shut if you don't stop talking."
He considers his options.
Ned
He rears back a bit when Margot threatens him with strangulation before turning around to slap one of the devices back down on the table. The gun stays in his left hand, while he regards Margot with an 'are you nuts?' sort of expression.
But he's listening when she speaks. Snorts at the 'No' and then snorts again, with the barest hint of mirth at 'germs and marauders and- I will zip your mouth shut;. Followed of course by a sudden thinning of humour and a stare at Margot.
He motions at her, without saying anything, muttering under his breath the entire time. He's not setting foot outside of the laboratory though, it would seem.
Margot
There was a small staredown happening between Apprentices between the Doc's trashed Laboratory, through a half-foot of height and several feet of space. Varying in intensity, mind you, but Margot just kept eyes on Ned to watch him, his reaction to the situation around them. She's done this in moments before, when she was more inclined to follow the lead of someone older and more experienced than her. Now, though, it could very well be that she was making sure he didn't give her a good reason to follow through with the plan weaving in her mind; a decision made that if Ned were to start shouting snide and challenging through the door again then she would dart out and slam the door along with her. Who knows? Maybe she could hold the door closed on him long enough to talk things out with the hostage-taking woman.
Thankfully it didn't come anywhere near to that. Quite the contrary, he gestured for her to go ahead and take the reins. <i>Alright, we'll try your way.</i>
Her expression softened considerably. "Thank you," she breathed her relief into words, then turned and (after brief hesitation, a gulp of breath) walked out of the lab and back out into the open basement room. As she went, she held her hands up in front of her palms out to show she wasn't carrying anything along with her. Not over her head, she wasn't that dramatic at least.
"Can... Can I convince you to give him back? Please?"
Margot @ 4:34PM
[Ugh girl you need more social dice. Charisma + Expression, WP]
Roll: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Dr. Sepúlveda
A Nephanda would have turned both of them inside out before continuing on with whatever nefarious plan she had for her captive.
This woman may be angry and a bit Wyld-touched from spending so much time in the Umbra but she isn't completely insane. Or else Margot's plan was just crazy enough to work.
The small girl-apprentice comes out of the lab and asks for their mentor back. The stranger looks down at him and draws a deep breath in through her nose. From where she stands Margot can see the color has drained from Sepúlveda's skin. Diaphoresis is not a good look for anyone but his eyes are unfocused on top of it. Between paradox and punitive magick he has had his ass thoroughly handed to him.
So she lets go the breath and says, "Fine."
A moment of silence and then the jingling of her Forces barrier giving way. Her first concession. Uncuffing him is going to take more work than just dropping an effect.
Ned
"...Keep it going, Clinton."
Ned offers from the doorway, in Margot's direction. He's fetched up against the framework, staring at Margot, hand still clutching the piece of obscure equipment that he'd made his 'weapon of choice' (even if that weapon amounted to little more than a sometimes pointy bit of mecha that he could maybe throw accurately enough to bean the Disciple woman). He's in observation mode, the only clear indication anything was wrong before being the steady, purposeful attempts at breathing that he's doing. In and out. In and out. Meditative exercises.
Margot
<i>Fine</i>.
For half a second Margot thought her legs might give out from under her. Was it really that easy? Fine, and that was it?
When she heard Ned behind her she glanced back, found him in the doorframe, watchful and cautious but simply watchful for now. Support. Back-up, for whatever good that may be. She smiled weak and fleeting, then looked back forward. With a quiet and oddly pleasant jingling noise the holding shimmer in the air finally gave way. Margot jerked a little like her first impulse was to bolt forward-- moved a so far as a single quick step before she caught herself and stopped. Swallowed hard, and eased forward a little further.
She eyed the Doc warily, worry evident all over visage. She grasped her hands in tight fists at her sides and edged forward a couple of steps. Swallowed back the urge to be sick at the grotesque situation that bound the Doc's arms behind him.
"...Will it be hard for him to recover...?"
Cautiously asked, hoping for reassurance clearly.
Dr. Sepúlveda
"<I>Him?</I>"
The stranger crouched down next to her captive and grabs him by the lower jaw to turn his head towards her. Like the thought hadn't yet occurred to her that Paradox may have trounced him hard enough to render her choice of restraint excessive.
Aside from scowling a bit at the manhandling, Sepúlveda keeps his mouth shut.
She releases him harder than she needs to and reaches into the medicine bag inside her skirt. Finds a length of what looks like cloth bandage and removes it.
"Physically, he'll be fine. There's no helping him mentally." She begins to wind the bandage around Sepúlveda's wrists. It causes him pain. He shouts in protest. She doesn't care. "But you must know that already."
Ned
"....And yet...."
Ned mutters, hand rising to scrub at his own face, draw down his own features. Still breathing. Still Margot's show.
Margot
The girl was pale in the face and wore a rather grim set to her mouth. She had realized her hands were anxious fists and brought them together behind her back. Ned could see her fingers intertwine and squeeze tight at the small of her back.
Doc shouted, and Margot looked quick and nervous at him. But she had to trust in this woman. Did, to an extent. Enough that she didn't fear that she was going to suddenly go back to angry tirade and start melding all of them into the floor. The Doc was in pain of course, but Margot did nothing to intervene.
Any method she may have for unbinding wrists couldn't be any better, after all.
"Sure," she agreed softly and without commitment. Clearly the student was in no mood to shit talk her mentor just this moment, but in less of a mood to argue with this Umbra-dweller.
"I'm.. uh, sorry. For whatever happened. It sounds tough, being lost on the Other Side."
Dr. Sepúlveda
"You have no idea."
This to the matter of being lost. Her expression is a different sort of grim than Margot's is. Healing is a more difficult task than wounding and she does not have the success she had had binding him.
Aside from a huff from her and a hissing from him the extent of her difficulty remains occluded. She keeps moving her fingers over the bandages like she can pry the bones apart if she's gentle enough.
"The Verbenae used to keep paths open," she says. "Guide back those who were too far gone. They don't have enough people to keep the paths lit, and many of them have closed. Or been overtaken. Spirits are hungrier the further you go. The longer you're there the harder it is to come back. You stay too long, you won't come back at all."
[1 suxx on a healing roll with non-jove dice]
Ned
Ned is watching. He doesn't interrupt the pow wow between the two women in Sepulveda's life for better and worse. Instead he dips back into the laboratory to out the device down and...well, take a look around. There were very rare moments when you got a moment to consider another person from this particular perspective. Away from their insecurities and intentions (for better or worse). Ned remains by the door but scans the room. He looks at the scene of initial disturbance for how exactly their intruder had gotten into the Lab without using the door.
That led him down the path of potential other defensive breaches that left this house exposed to...well anything really. He and paranoia alone could probably account for half the world coming down on them just in that initial scan.
He comes back out into the basement proper a minute later, divested of all mechanisms to continue watching what is going on with the ladies and the Doc. His face is a pinched together flush of brows and vague stoicism. Par for the course.
Margot
A hushed stillness possessed the would-be witch. She even held her breath, which she realized after a dozen seconds and made herself breathe again. There was a lot of that tonight. She stood a few feet away now, watching over the nameless Shaman's shoulder while she worked to undo the damage done. Margot's face had been all shades of pale tonight, but watching this she looked almost gray. Sick and tense and twisted up in her stomach with understanding of what was happening to Doc's wrists.
But <i>intrigued</i>. She couldn't look away. There were important lessons to be learned here.
(<i>watch, child, get your stomach used to this</i>)
As she watched, she listened as well. The story of the paths through the Umbra and how they were shutting down had her attention shifting from hands at work to the side of the woman's face. Picturing that face pulled back into a snarl of focus and effort against some tremendous push to break free through one of these unlit paths.
Ned's steps leaving the lab drew Margot's attention back to him. She looked at him with that same surprised worry that she'd been wearing pretty much all afternoon now.
Back to the Shaman. A nervous puff of breath was exhaled, and with it a soft voice. "You made it," she reminded her. Almost like a reassurance, or a steady offer. <i>You're here now, not there. It's over.</i>
Then, silence. Watching her work now with baited breath. Please let her be able to fix this.
Dr. Sepúlveda
By their nature laboratories are sterile secluded places. Sepúlveda is not by nature a fastidious creature. To the contrary: he's a fucking mess. He smokes and drinks and will screw anything capable of giving consent. During one of their group study sessions he remarked on the fact that Entropy was going to totally change the way he mops the floor with other motherfuckers when he plays poker.
But he keeps his workspace clean. Or did, anyway, before the Kha'vadi woman ripped a hole in the Gauntlet and let herself through.
He had had a partner all his life. His wife had always kept him safe. That wedding band he wears has not yet supplied a story for Mr. Gaites but Ned is a quick enough young man to figure out his mentor has no defenses against dimensional invaders because he has devoted his life to other Spheres. This space is safe so long as Sepúlveda is around to keep it safe but the woman in the other room is capable of manipulating Forces and he was in the middle of modifying one of his devices when she came through.
Everything in the room is metal or glass. It's a small room. What devices Ned has found have been cobbled together from obsolete or outdated equipment. Remote controls and cellphones and random gadgets one can order out of a catalogue or purchase from a pawn shop. The initial crash they heard came from the intruder swiping a microscope onto the floor. When Sepúlveda fell he dropped a device and knocked over a small table upon which had rested beakers and slides. There's a scorch mark on the ceiling that may or may not have been there already.
To say nothing of the severed arm in the sink.
--
When Ned comes back out he sees the stranger scowling as she tries without success to fix her Work. This time she outright fails.
Sepúlveda shouts again and tries to pull away from her but he's pretty well restrained. He grinds the heels of his shoes into the floor and grits his teeth so he won't make too much of a scene in front of Margot.
"And you want to blame what happened on me," he says when he gets his breath back. Bitches in Spanish for a few seconds.
Meanwhile the stranger yanks the bandage from his wrists and presses it to her nose. Which has started bleeding. She reaches out to try and lay hands on his wrists again but he squirms in spite of the pain squirming provokes. Another sigh and she gets to her feet.
"Your arrogance, I blame," she says. "Your arrogance and your nearsightedness. What do you want to do, stay there and rot?"
Whatever revenge she had hoped to take on him was squashed by the apprentices' presence. She can't even set the place on fire in good conscience. This seems a suitable enough substitute. He's shackled by his own wrists and cannot access any of his instruments and has only two scared inexperienced students to assist him.
"Nobody's gonna rot," he says more for the kids' sake than anyone else's. "The kid's right. You made it... you made it back. Write a sad poem in your journal and move on."
The Kha'vadi turns to leave. If Ned intends to stop her this is his opportunity. Meanwhile Sepúlveda coughs and blinks like that will do anything for the fog enveloping his brain.
"Margot, listen: upstairs in the bathroom, under the sink." Jesus Christ the human nervous system is poorly designed. "There's a black bag. Bring it back down here. Try not to..." Ow. "Try not to vomit, if you vomit I'm going to vomit."
Ned
"We're not done."
Ned steps infront of her. They had all had their little pow wow and interaction, shared their feelings and offered their sighs and grunts and displeasures at one another and Ned had stood by watching the entire thing. He'd had to cover his mouth and look down rather fiercely at the 'Write a sad poem...' bit from the Doc, but beyond that his attention seemed rooted in waiting for something.
...That something was the woman attempting to leave.
Ned's moving toward the stairwell, when she stands up straight, seemingly done dealing with the Doc and his attitude. He's by the stairs when she begins to walk/storm away and he's staring her in the face when she reaches the first step, which he's backed up onto for a little height advantage.
"You and the Doc had business. You sorted that business, for better or ill. I'd say that business is concluded now given you're looking to get as far away from him as possible, yeah? I'd like a word then."
Margot
The woman couldn't unbind the doctor's wrists. She took the bandage away and Margot turned her eyes away quickly. She was interested in looking when the bandages covered things up, but found the actual image of wrists fused together too much to handle without at least breaking away to digest the initial shock. When she looked back, the Shaman was soaking a nosebleed with the bandages and standing. Margot's eyes widened, as they did, and she looked on in dismay as the woman stood and walked away. Margot made no move to stop her.
Ned did.
Still looking full of fret, now worried about what the woman might do to Ned if he got under her skin any further, Margot stood beside The Doc and squeezed-and-worried her fingers together.
<i>Go get my bag and don't vomit</i>, was the request from the Doctor. Margot looked down at him, swallowed hard (maybe even swallowed back the urge to vomit), and nodded.
"Hang in there, Doc," she half-pleaded, then moved for the stairs. Hovered for half a second behind the woman, then tried to move past her and Ned both with an "Excuse me,".
If allowed past, on up the stairs for the bag she went.
Dr. Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda blows out a breath but does not respond to Margot's missive. Hang in there. Sure. Like the fucking kitten poster every brain dead office resource manager has on their wall. He closes his eyes and resigns himself to sitting here on the floor with wrists on fire until she returns.
For her part, the Kha'vadi does excuse Margot.
As for Ned he can tell by looking at her that she is not in the mood for any more bullshit this afternoon. Her nose is still bleeding but blood is one of her instruments. Pissing her off would not be advisable.
"What is it?" she asks as a matter of course. He said 'a' word. She is not a literal creature but she will lose her patience if the brokered brevity turns into another monologue.
Ned
Ned allows Margot past the stairwell, moving off to one side, body turned sideways to allow for significant room. He doesn't move back into the Woman's path, however, offering her a step up the stairs as if this was indication that the conversation they were about to have shouldn't necessarily impede her need to be away from the Doc's general vicinity. The Doc was an asshole. His apprentices knew this. They were still his apprentices which means they had probably come to accept this fact about him comfortably and willingly.
"We've never met your type before and you've had experiences that we've...run into a few times and I doubt we're going to get much chance to run into any more of you anytime soon so... New mage to Seasoned...What's a Kha'vadi and Why?"
Dr. Sepúlveda
The woman looks at Ned as if he's lost his damned mind. But then she considers the fact that they're stuck with Andy Sepúlveda as their mentor. Sure as shit she isn't going to try to take them with her. First of all they're white. Second of all they're probably destined to be as crazy as he is. His breed of crazy is contagious. Effusive enthusiasm for pursuits which do not consider human life to be a resource worth preserving.
Another sigh.
"'Those whose vision shapes the world,'" she says. "The Society of Dreams. We're a tradition of medicine-people. I chose this Path because I feel harmony with the World Spirit, and because Its voice spoke to me when I was ready to hear it." She grits her teeth. "I should have listened, when it warned me of the sickness in your mentor. His is a destructive Path. There's your word."
She's intent to leave on that note.
Ned
"...Seems to be a pretty standard attitude with every tradition we've met so far."
Ned's only response as she blows past him and on up the stairs. He doesn't follow, but continues to talk to her retreating back.
"Could use a bit more detail though...especially if you want to ensure there aren't just going to be two more of Him in the world once he's done mentoring us..." He's stopping at the bottom of the stairs to wait and see if she stops near the top at all. If she continues on, he'll snort and call it done, turning to eyeball the Doc on the ground. He's frowning and contemplating in both cases.
Dr. Sepúlveda
She does stop at the top of the stairs. Not because she's deciding whether she wants to stand here and talk to Ned any further or not. She absolutely does not. Rather, she's debating whether he's using the threat of two future Mad Scientists coming out of this arrangement as leverage to keep her here longer.
And whether Sepúlveda has any lighter fluid stashed anywhere.
She is not a death-dealer though. She is a healer. She has already made a mess of the Scientist. One could argue he deserved it.
"You make your own choices," she says. "He's made his. We're done here."
With that, she steps out the backdoor and into the sunlight. Behind him on the floor Sepúlveda is breathing slow but not easy. Occasionally a leg moves. If the kids weren't here his assurance that no one was going to rot might have been an empty one. From where Ned stands he looks pretty fucked.
Margot
Maybe Margot passed the Shaman on her way through the upstairs portion of the house. Maybe she took a second to puke in the toilet upstairs away from where the Doc would see before grabbing the bag. Maybe she pep-talked herself in the mirror.
Whatever.
Ultimately, Ned would be standing and looking at the Doc, who was sweat-drenched and in and out of consciousness with a leg sometimes twitching, when Margot came thumping down the stairs once more. She didn't ask if the woman was gone, didn't wonder at this moment what Ned had to say to her. Rather, she knelt down beside Doc and set the bag down next to her legs. Opened it up and then started tapping Doc on the chest with her fingers.
"Doc. Doc. Wake up. Tell me what to do."
Ned
"...Well. So far, cynicism is winning the day, Doc."
Ned offers from his place, eyeballing the fused wrists with careful examination. The lady having left, makes him nervous but the adrenaline keeps that in check for the most part. Half of him just wants to curl up somewhere and give a bit of leeway to the paranoia in his head. Maybe try to cut the pipe out and give the Doc a chance to pull himself free. The other half of him wants to go and find some form of blunt object in the doc's Lab and manually break the bones apart so that the doc has at least one limb to maybe fix himself with.
Or possibly severe one arm so he can attach the one he's got in his Lab sink somehow.
Ned crouches down by the Doc as Margot comes down the stairs again, bag in hand and he glances back at her with a, what could be considered, worried frown on his face. He offers her a weak but encouraging smile, eyes trailing back to their wounded mentor.
"We may need to call Nick." He's a Doctor, right? A healer type? Or is he just a mental healer type? Fuck's sake...
Dr. Sepúlveda
With the tapping he scowls and opens his eyes. Tries to move his arms and then remembers oh right that Dreamspeaker he pissed off last year was here.
"We're not calling Nick," he says. "He's a counselor, not a... not a doctor. One of you... in the bag, you have the black bag? There's a vial, a big vial, with... pink shit in it. Fill a syringe with... eh... ten cc's and jab it in my arm somewhere. A muscle. Jab it in a muscle. And make sure you get all the... the air bubbles out, I don't want an embolism today."
Margot
No smiles back to greet Ned, but rather a grim thinning of her lips as Margot pressed them more firmly together. She was looking at Doc's wrists, no longer looking like she was going to puke but now instead hovering somewhere around wanting to cry. Her lower lip alternated between setting hard like steel and quivering dangerously. At no point did she actually go to pieces again, though. She kept her breath and shook her head at Ned when he suggested they call Nick
"He's not a--"
But Doc was already on it. She got into the bag as he asked and discovered the vial and syringe. She was staring at them, one in either hand, while the Doc started talking about jabbing muscles and not giving him embolisms. It was around that point that she held them both up and out to Ned. He worked in a hospital, after all.
Ned
Ned's accepting of the syringe and vial without much in the way of question or concern. He'd been forced to provide any number of emergency injections (usually during the abundant short staffing moments his hospital often found themselves in), mostly in the form of a sedative.
He tips the small vial upside down, pushing the needle carefully through the rubber bottom and filling the interior with the pinkish goo. A few moments and the vial is handed back over to Margot, followed by several flicks of the syringe contents by a finger. He pushes the plunger to clear the air and then glances down at the Doc's left arm.
It's a moment of searching, prodding before Ned finds the bicep, the biggest muscle bunch he can locate by his science knowledge and jabs the needle in quickly. The contents empty with a push of the plunger and he slips the needle free a few moments later.
"...Is this the part where you tell us we're going to have to break the bones so you can work properly?"
Dr. Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda is making a valiant effort to hold his shit together as Ned rummages past his layers to get at his biceps. Flinches and breathes out hard as the needle finds muscle and skips across bone and breathes in again as Ned shoots the goo in. He has to concentrate to make it do its job. Then the kid asks him if he's going to have to break a bone.
He's still sweating and shaking with pain. It's working well and working fast.
"You break anything I'll tear your fucking nuts off," he snaps.
A moment later his wrists separate. He flexes his fingers. Then he hauls off and punches Ned in the solar plexus.
"Fuck!" he says. Like he's been holding that outburst in this whole time. Swipes a hand down his face before clapping it on the side of Margot's face. "You're a good kid, Margot."
Margot
Hands far more familiar with needles went through the instructions the Doc had provided, and Margot just stayed put as morale support and an extra set of hands when needed. The vial was accepted back and tucked into the bag, then hands folded together and were clamped between her legs to keep them from fidgeting or grabbing. She wanted to help move clothes aside to get Ned at the Doc's arm. She wanted to do <i>something</i> to help alleviate the pain that the Doc was clearly struggling with. But for this, at this moment, Margot wasn't much further help.
She watched with baited breath while the Doc sweated and shivered and tried to urge the concoction in his muscles to move through his body, into his wrists and do their Work.
His hands were freed at last! Margot hissed a quiet 'yes!' of relief-- thank god that worked. Then he punched at Ned's chest and she startled, leaned back as though worried that she was going to catch an errant elbow in her proximity to the outburst. She was looking at Ned and how he'd handle the blow when the Doc's hand clapped to the side of her face, catching her attention and drawing it back. She blinked at him a few times, then let out an odd laugh of nervous relief. Part of the relief was that she found herself laughing instead of crying. Initially she wasn't sure which was going to happen.
The Doc would find his hand caught in both of Margot's, and she took it away from her face but kept it near enough for her to examine it. Thumbs found the bones in his wrist and tested gently. Everything in its place? <i>Amazing</i>. And thank goodness.
"Who <i>was</i> that?"
Ned
"Kid."
It's the first word out of his mouth after the punch. Let's be clear. Ned's reality is paranoia and no small amount of reflexive shying. There is a very real layer of pragmatic decision making he does on my occasions. Dealing with fallout from crazed mages is...slowly becoming one of them.
He reads back at the punch, a tap that strikes the muscle regulating his breathing and has him reflexively moving into a guard position in his feet and several paces back.
"Cause that's what we are. Kids."
The guard drops a moment later though there is a sense of wild attentiveness, sharpened wits about him now. Again while he stares at the Doctor.
"...You punch like an old man. About what I'd expect though..."
And then he dusts himself off eyes flicking down to Margot.
"You together now?"
Margot
<i>You together now?</i>
Margot cast a sharp glance up at Ned from where she still knelt down on the floor. Her mother wasn't the lecturing sort, having been far too busy working many hours at many jobs to make ends meet. Still, though, the girl had a sense that she may expect an earful if she answered yet. All the same...
"Yes." Then, after promptly abandoning her inspection of the Doc's recovered hand and a glance away, down, elsewhere really. "I'm sorry about that."
Dr. Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda lets Margot inspect his wrist. His eyes are still clouded and he is still unstuck from time. Hard to tell if he would submit to this if he were still in his right mind. He watches her with his concussed gaze and he hears her question and he hears Ned's admonition. Weathers them both and draws a breath moves his limbs like he's preparing to stand but he cannot coordinate the effort and so he abandons it.
"What'd I--" Burp. He really wants to lie down and go to sleep. Damn you two. "--tell you about apologizing."
He can't curl up and sleep. He has an apprentice on either side of him. Damn it.
"Oni..." His eyes are drifting closed now that pain is not wracking them open. "Oni and I... it doesn't matter."
Sleep sounds pretty good about now. Too bad his apprentices are his apprentices.
[[ Scene fades from here-- Ned goes immediately home and Margot sticks around long enough to make sure the Doc gets some sleep-- he wakes up after like 20 minutes or so to tell her to go the hell away, which she does. ]]
No comments:
Post a Comment