8.1 KiB
| title | created | updated | public | syndicated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 00069 | Thu, 02 Mar 2023 07:16:46 -0700 | Thu, 02 Mar 2023 07:16:46 -0700 | yes | yes |
00069
Inky offers the cat person a bemused half-smile, then turns to the sysorcerer. "We hope you are well. Young Master Alex has been searching for you. He had planned on coming, but had to attend to an urgent matter on short notice."
A pause, then Inky slides an open envelope — a plain affair with a grid of tiny blue dots, and a single sheet of a similar pattern inside — across the table towards the wizard. They continue, "If there is anything you wish to tell him, you can write it in a language only you two understand and seal the envelope. This one will do their best to pass on the message." They wave another identical envelope, indicating the message will be copied once sealed before pocketing it again.
"If you do decide to write, please do it promptly. This one will be departing shortly, and the envelope in front of you will disappear," they inform the sysorcerer with an apologetic look and a tinge of sadness.
To the self-proclaimed double agent, Inky replies, "Thanks for the information. Master Alex will be positively ecstatic with the news." They send the hobbit a lopsided smile. "Nevertheless, you will understand if the party would like to consider your proposal further before providing an answer. Haste makes waste, as proverbs say. Perhaps your pirate captain would agree. My condolences."
Ignoring the proffered dice, Inky bids the group at the table good evening and exits the club by the same route with which they had entered, trying to stave off the growing unease at the back of their mind.
~
Three corridors later, one with a high vaulted ceiling away from the din of the gambling club, Inky slows their brisk trot and hands Fuko the envelope. The owl grips the item, dives down and drops it onto the thick carpet. She places the back of one feet lightly over a corner of the envelope, deftly slicing open the top layer along one edge with a claw. Working quickly, she pulls out the contents with her beak, smoothing out the sheet with a brush of her wings. Next, she flies in a slow circle above the papers a few times before descending again upon the papers and dragging them into a cake tin. Finally, the bird pops the lid over the container, where the paper within turns into dry compost.
"It's confidential. Please do not decode." Inky says as a reminder from their spot near the end of the corridor.
Fuko levels an unimpressed look at her companion, as if to say, Yes, for the twenty-fourth time. Inky smiles back at her and asks, "Is your boss satisfied now?" The smile widens briefly at the indignant screech and clicks in response, then vanish as the events of the past few moments caught up to them again. Here in a hallway brightly lit by glow lamps away from any windows, the howling winds are a distant echo, but it did not stop Inky from wondering.
It had been a risk, dallying around longer to give the elder wizard time to say his piece in writing. No one could have missed the disappointment written clearly on his face when he realised his nephew hadn't come. Now, from Fuko's sparse recount of what their tails had found, the candle had burned down, releasing something somewhere, yet none of the others had woken up. It would appear that Master Alex had not left the Dreaming at all, but was in another area doing Neddas-only-knows-what.
They stare up at the large central chandelier in the next room with thousands of crystal beads that gleam like tiny droplets suspended in the air. Orange shirt and blue shorts have since been replaced with a red brimmed hat and blue duffel coat, the drawstring pouch tied below the collar, and running shoes with red rain boots. The mess of ginger hair is trimmed to a caramel crop.
When the owl settles again on their shoulder, stirring Inky from their thoughts, they collect the cake tin, remove the lid and look inside. From a pocket of their coat, they pull out three seeds and nudge them with two fingers into the soil. Descending a flight of stairs, Inky sets the dousojin, grown to the size of a boulder, and the tin on a side table. They pour seaweed tea into the tin from a glass bottle, then refill the bottle with small fish-shaped crackers, corking and placing it beside the tin.
"Thank you, Great Spirit. This useless one will take their leave now, and apologises if they have accidentally 'left the door open' for something to blow in that should not be here." Inky says.
They turn to the great horned owl. "Impeccable as ever, both of you. Thanks for coming along tonight. You may go, Fuko. When you wake yourself or with Futa's help, please get into the carrier as quickly as you can, activate the connection and leave immediately. Sever it as soon as you arrive safely. Forget about pulling off the patch under my forearm, it can be delivered later, or he can have the body sent over eventually. Leave and don't look back." Then, more airily, "Should we meet again, Inky the Insolent shall bring you a large 'rat at two eels'. How's that for a handsome reward?"
~
Alex takes the amulet solemnly "Alright, now that's something I can believe in." he says as he turns the locket over in his hand. The golden veins shimmer and pulse inside of the pale blue. Alex dons the necklace, noting that the stone is warm, almost exactly body temperature. "Alright Neddas, you've got yourself a deal. I'll finish assembling the crystals, we'll haul you back out to Basementaria. And it sounds like we're cracking a few eggs along the way thanks to this".
The howling interrupts, growing louder, becoming a cacaphony of tormented banshee wails. The gray expanse of sand fills with a vile wind, a thick almost physical wall of dark black smog closes in. Neddas, is nowhere to be found.
Alex dips down and scoops up the little Katsuva, tucking him into the ruck sack at his side. "Hang tight little guy, I think the ride out of here's going to get bumpy.."
In a single swift motion Alex pulls back the bolt on his AK74u and levels it at the smog, letting loose a sustained volley of gunfire. Bullets whiz with a defeaning RATATATAT. While laying down suppressing fire, he pulls the little console back up to his side with a short wave of the hand. A single command is all he needs here.
When Alex pulls up his terminal he sees a notification blinking in the corner of the screen. A message from Corraidhín?
The howling wind abruptly stops and the smog quickly dissipates.
~
In the fish market, Alex and Inky both wake with a start, gasping for breath as though drowning.
It is dark. The lights are all out but it looks as through Marvelo has dropped some flairs on the ground. They fill the room with an eerie, crackling red glow.
It is not quiet. The antiques dealer / spymaster has a couple of cords of rope and a couple loose blankets coiled around his arms and legs. He is shaking them off while screaming obscenities and repeatedly firing a blaster pistol at a large, roaring abomination standing in the center of the room.
The nightmare has an almost fetal-looking head with a long, bulbous skull that looks far too large for its body. A single eye glares malevolently from the center of its small face. Oily feathers drip from a thin, sagging membrane that runs from wrist to ankle. Its leathery skin cracks and oozes from repeated shots to the torso from Marvelo's blaster, but it seems unbothered by the attack.
It screeches and lunges forward and swings one massive arm at Marvelo. Its leathery, feathery wing slices through the air like a billowing cape behind its claws. Marvelo jumps to the side at the last moment, firing another shot right into the creature's chest while in midair, and lands on the ground.
Now prone and helpless on the floor, he looks up as the beast looms over him. It screeches and falls on top of him, shoving its slender hands into his mouth. Marvelo's muffled screams become pitiful whimpers as the creature pulls out teeth by the handful and crams them into its own mouth.
WHAT DO YOU DO?