Eternity vs. Immortality

Sometimes, I get to be the 10th Doctor. Or the 11th. Sometimes. I don't know, it just happens.

Yesterday was a long day. It was a long, long day. I've been running around all over the place for a while now. It was nice to be home.

There are currently five people living in the house when I'm not around. Green Man, Forgemaster, Spinner, Weaver, and Cutter. You'd think it'd feel crowded. Then again, I haven't spent more than two weeks here at any given time since March.

It was before I'd found out that Konaa had gotten himself into serious trouble. And that Nessa needed to be picked up.

I had no idea how crazy the night would get. Not until I'd gotten up to my room and spotted a neat stack of sticky notes on my door.

The first one said, "Prepare yourself. Remember your restraint."

I twitched. How the fuck did Time Lord get this stack of stickies into my house, and onto my door? I decided to save that question for later. I honestly didn't care. I was tired, I started to push open the door, and then I noticed another sticky note underneath the stack. It didn't come off with the rest of them.

"You should listen to the man. -r"

Redlight was sitting on one of the two chairs I keep in my room. Specifically, my damn comfy black padded office chair. I could sit in that damn thing for hours and feel comfortable the whole damn time, and there was Redlight sitting in it. He was in his trademark hoodie, and with only the desk lamp on, his face was wreathed in shadows. It didn't matter though. Lets face it, he could make his face look different every time if he wanted to. He brushed a single black leaf off his shoulder, which burned in blue fire on hitting the ground. He may have found a way into my house, but the billion odd defensive wards I'd placed around the building did not like him. A little trail of smoke rose between us from that black leaf, and I thought about what I should do.

Time Lord said I should be restrained. I really didn't want to do the whole "restraint" thing right about then. I wanted to pick his sorry ass up and throw it out the damn window. Especially after that conversation he had with Ryuu. As much as I preach nonlethal action in all things, I know a dog that needs to be put down when I see it. But at the end of the day, I couldn't kill him and keep him dead at this point. Not yet anyway.

He casually regarded me, making a little soundless 'quiet' motion, and pointed upstairs. I gave him a small nod. No sense bringing my five odd roommates into this.

I pulled my other chair from the door to put an even distance between me, the burning leaf, and him, and closed the door behind me. I sat down.

I said, "You're in my chair."

"I didn't think you'd mind."

We sat there for a long moment, until the leaf finished burning to nothing, leaving a little black spot on the floor. He picked up Nessa's old Jade Dragon figurine off the table. I'd spent some time purifying it on the road, and it had gone from black to a shade of very dark green. As he examined it, it started to grow darker.

"You know. I was asked not to kill you. The little message you added at the end was a nice touch."

He laughed softly, "You keep a lot of interesting friends."  Redlight motioned upstairs.

"I read about your little visit to Morningstar. Based on what I felt across the flow of energy in the world when that bastard took his shot, I'd say you're honestly passing out shit that gives the Tree a direct line into this world. You've got Apocalypse Juice. You do realize that, right?"

I spend a lot of time at night staying awake thinking about how the world will end. I've explained what happens if the Barrier, Veil, call it what you will, drops some day.  Read it again if you're curious. Long story short, the hole created whenever someone takes a shot from the case Morningstar got brings the world closer and closer to a shattered Veil. Eleven more people like that and it's lights out on planet Earth.

"Gee, a juice that spawns ungodly monster trees, that helps..." He emphasized the words with hand gestures, and they were shaking as he made them, "shimmer' reality to pieces, due to some sort of dimensional bleeding,  yes, I know."  He relaxes, "If I can't win, no one can. I'll go that route...if I have to."

 As he says this, I can't help but think: The end of the world is coming, and it'll be brought by a supervillain with Parkinson's.

"Don't act like you hadn't talked to your sage pal, Hakurei."  He gave me an exasperated gesture.  "I figured you might not be one to help rid me of the tree...but,"  He said with a bit of emphasis, "You ARE one to help get rid of the tree itself.  You know the danger this...loathesome and twisted thing can do."  He dropped his hands, "At least with your everyday horror stories, its smaller scale."

"Admittedly, it's not a demonic army trying to turn the world into their outpost, and It's not a rampaging god-thing. Incidentally, you never did get back to me when I asked you for a game of Gomoku."

He shrugged, "Been busy, we'll schedule it for next week...assuming you don't have 300 trees to try to purify by that point."  Redlight fumbled a little with Nessa's little jade dragon, "This stuff brings back old memories.  So why is it that jade sort of leeches a person's energy?  I always thought quartz was some purifying force."

This was not how I thought how this discussion would go. I laughed a little. Then I said:

"I honestly couldn't tell you. There were seven specific rocks that I researched, that don't exist in this world. Crystals and the new age folderol were never part of my bag. Well not THAT New Age Folderol specifically."
He shrugged, "Always more to learn.  Which brings it back to me, and us.  and about what this is really about."  Redlight leans in a bit, "Immortality."

He opened my desk drawer and pulled out a pair of glasses and a bottle of scotch I've been saving.

"Immortality...as I have discovered is not as definite, nor as illustrious as I had dreamed once.  To be able to do limitless research, and explore the vast potential of life.  And yet, with my grasp weakened, returning to the natural order, I find myself in a place of shock, and daresay desperation." He sniffed at the liquor bottle, savoring the smell, before pouring himself a glass. He then continued, "It vexes me to have to come to such a cliche move as to ask one who sees me as an enemy, to ask for help. Well yes, of course you see me as evil, as a manipulator.  Indeed I am, but my goals and yours are not so very different. Well the difference between us then is that while I have attained my own, it is a bit...temporary, still.  For now.  I'm sure you could laud the 'proper methodology' for such things, or even praise death as part of the natural order.  Feel free to prattle on about it, I've heard it all before."

At times like these, it amazes me how little people actually know about me. Then again, there's a lot that I haven't had a chance to tell you all, so I guess it shouldn't surprise me. The first thing I did, was drink some of my scotch.

Then I responded, "Actually, I represent immortality for at LEAST two of the things that take up residence in my form. They sort of live on. I suppose through an exploration of my past lives, and they way I do remember them, I count as immortality for those past selves as well. They live on whenever I remember them, and can act through me as necessary. I call myself Amalgamation for a reason. A billion odd parts connected together working toward a common goal, living on forever so long as the cycle continues. I'd say my form of immortality is better. An eternity of evolutions toward something more, I suppose."

He shrugged, "Better, perhaps, but the idea of a 'past life' is an irritant.  It's a sign of loss, and even of weakness.  Though to be sure, having to hollow out another shell to live as a parasite is hardly one worthy of praise.  This is my problem with 'past lives'."  He took a drink as he leaned forward, "To have a past life, one must die, in some metaphorical way.  I believe myself too stubborn to relent in such a manner.  There is too much knowledge, too much to lose in death.  Not all of it could be recovered, even with a rebirth of any sort.   I've learned a many things, perhaps far later in life than you, I've learned the difference of a great many paths in life, and walked a path of leaves that is neither here nor there, yet connects to the world itself.  And I've seen the very chemicals of the mind, that produce love and hate.  And I've started to realize, that these things are far more connected than an average person might think."

I finished my drink as he spoke. I poured myself another, considering this.

Then I said, "In this, I am at a disadvantage. I'm young in this life, and though I've experienced many strange and unusual situations, I do not have the kind of understanding that I know I had in other lives about who I am and what I do. Still, to say that to die is a form of weakness is not correct. Where I learn the martial arts, they would call that believing in self above all things, whereas the way of progress as a martial artist involves denying self and thus acheiving more by forgetting your own frailties and strengths and thus surpassing both. In a way, it ends up acheiving a greater totality of self by denying it, grasping at true potential. In a way by allowing yourself to die and denying the idea of one self being better than any potential future self, you actually continue to strengthen yourself with limitless possible potential. And as you continue to draw on those past lives, the most current one becomes the strongest possible life. You call death weakness, I call it the strength that allows for the continued turning of the wheel of the universe...with each revolution picking up more speed and power and eventually burning hotter than the sun. Perhaps it's time to give up the ghost, and see how much more the next life will bring? I can't promise you'll be a Shaman every time, but every now and then you get something VERY special."

I sipped my scotch and smiled.

Redlight smirked softly, finished his own scotch. He raised a finger as I finished, "Surpassing yourself.  Yes I do believe that is exactly what I intend to do.  I'm not a seeker of godhood, or any of those trite faceless claims of those who simply garner power.  I want something far different.  And yet it seems, I shan't get another chance as it is, to 'try another go' in this kharmic wheel you believe in."  He sets the drink aside, drained.  "For even if I did have a soul left, I'm sure my current stalker will devour that as well."   He pauses, "So what then for those others I have contained as a host?  Will it stay its end with me, or will it develop a taste for more, hmm?  And what of the other unfortunates, doomed by a certain overzealous maniac who happened upon a briefcase of contagion..." He motions to himself, "That one fool sought to analyze and control something that exceeded his grasp."  He muses, "Hmm, so what then, what happens to those when I am devoured?"

"That's where people like me come into play. Sometimes, something tries to shift the balance. Somebody crosses the line, and plays with things they don't understand. I clean up messes for a living. Zero might have been a psychopathic manchild with a sword and a penchant for murder, but he was hard to kill, and he tried to do the right thing before the tree got him. Robert may have brought us all together like no one ever has before, but he was also a deranged lunatic who brought something into this world that was not meant to be here. Sadly, it becomes MY job to clean up their fuck ups. The tree is on my To-do list. So are you, incidentally. Really, it was Scott in Strepdeckstrasse that was the last straw for me."

We were silent for a while. I was smiling that little smile that everyone who's ever tried to kill me gets to see now and then. You know the one. The one I get right before something completely ridiculous happens. Redlight sat there and drank his scotch, keeping one hand stable with the other.

Then the moment was lost, and we both remembered what was at stake: a briefcase full of Planet-Kill, and who would control it.

He said, "So what I need, is this tree off my back. Literally. And what YOU need is to restore the balance by finding a way to kill it. Take that briefcase of mine completely out of the picture."

Don't you hate it when you forget that there's a reason why Dr. Doom STILL rules all of Latveria after all these years?

"I've been debating dropping back into that world Kay was forced to visit a while back, and testing the theory of 'wood is flammable' as being universal. I don't exactly want to do that until I know the connection between it and SlenderDouche."

Redlight sighed, adjusting himself in the chair, uncomfortable, "The only connection I've seen is that, he ripped me to pieces last time he saw me, after..." He pointed to his neck, showing me the vicious scar, "This.  So I suppose this means I'm a free agent." He laughed darkly, "So ..." he leaned in, "This is the part where you refuse to help me, and we both watch the world burn."

I leaned back in my chair, considering this. After some thought, I decided on Honesty:

"You know, this isn't the first time I've stared at the end of the world."

"And what did you do then?"  He seemed more amused than interested.

I said, "Totally fucked it up and turned it into someone else's problem the first time. Then I apparently fixed things the second time, except I don't actually remember doing anything, so SOMETHING screwy was going on.  Honestly, neither were great victories for science or civilization or anything in particular."

"Its talk like that that brings out the scientist in me, to evaluate exactly how much of what you say is what is real, and what you just 'remember' being real."  He leaned back, letting the words sink in,  "So what about all those unfortunates out there, caught in my web, just another body to be used?  The ones that live their lives, and experience blackouts, maybe wake up with injuries, maybe don't wake up at all."   He leans forward, a smug grin, "Like maybe some of your fellow bloggers?"

I decided to completely ignore the subtext of his statement. I said, "You know. I can actually feel the web your connected to. The sympathetic links you follow to travel into each body. It's fascinating. You're not so much a person a this point as you are an idea. An old, sickly idea that's losing it's touch. You really think that swapping into the 11 year old girl will fix everything?"

Redlight sighed, "We just went over this, didn't we?  We both postured about whose idea of immortality was best, that's done.....but the concept of becoming an Idea...well that, interests me greatly actually.  I've never really cared about 'ruling the world' or bloated villain talk like that, but maybe being an idea isn't quite as bad as you're considering it to be."

"I'm warning you Redlight. No good can come from the subjugation of a little girl's mind, and the rape of her soul. There are lines that even the lords of hell won't cross."

I can be pretty cheesy sometimes, can't I?

"Then why do they let monsters like 'him' and me live, hmm?   Let me tell you why...because there's not as much moral guidelines in the world as you'd like to think.  I can name fifty people who've done things as bad as me, and worse.  There IS NO KARMA, there is only choice."  He stood up, "Like this choice...I can leave now, and I can trust, you'll do what needs done.." He walked past me toward the door, then turned around, "Because you're a 'good guy' and you are the 'savior of time' or whatever."  He pauses at the doorknob, "Don't forget what I said, there's more than one blogger out there that I've gotten my hands on and taken,  'hollowed' or 'redlit' whatever you want to call it."

And that's about when the gears started turning in my head again. And that smile of mine returned to my face, "Oh yes. I think I can do what needs to be done. Although, I'm not sure which fortune cookie you got 'savior of time' out of.  Does this look like Legend of Zelda to you? Still. I need to look into that tree anyway. Why not?"

"You do that.  Play the hero, like you want to be.  I'll be watching."

"You think I'm trying to be a hero? Whatever."

And then I found out what happened to Konaa and Nessa. I ran off, picked Konaa's sorry ass off the Train tracks. After I got him to the hospital, I went and picked up Nessa.

I'm really not worried about any of this though. Because I saw all kinds of things when I met Redlight in person. I really did see the web of connections between him and his others. And I saw where he really is: Stuck inside the Tree somewhere in it's insane world, slowly being eaten away as he tries to escape, dodging from body to body. It's facts like that which help me sleep at night. So now I'm going to do exactly what I said I would do.

EDIT:

I looked at the Post-It Notes afterwards. The next one after the first said:

"That went well."

I asked, "How the hell did you get these in here?!"

The next one said, "I handed them to Redlight with a top sticky that said, 'Place this on Nick's Door.'"

I stared at them, I tore it off to reveal, "I guess he added one."

I wonder if Time Lord really is trying to kill me sometimes.

Of Obelisks and Order

I'm in a small, messy looking abandoned building on the outskirts of Philadelphia. I feel like I'm part of some big "How I spent my summer vacation" special. I've done more driving in the last year than in my entire life. I'm glad I have.

I sit here in this abandoned building, barred from hobos, but not from an industrious young man with a crowbar of his own, to pay my respects to the fallen. A gentleman by the name of Michael, also known as "Snore De Bliss." He and I have had our adventures. He's dead now, but a friendly spirit made a request.

It and I talked. I'm in a trance, in this abandoned building. The shadows are long and the day is short. Time has no meaning when you're in this kind of trance. You see my friends, Michael's dead, and an Abomination known as the "Obelisk" is running around on MY astral plane, causing trouble. The fact that it IS it's own plane of existence complicates things a little, but it's nothing I haven't seen before. Okay, scratch that, I haven't seen anything on this SCALE before, but otherwise it's nothing I haven't seen before.

I've got "King of the Rock/Sucka MCs" by No More Kings on loop as I sit here. My fingers roll off the keyboard of their own volition. I don't know what this will actually look like when I'm done, but I'm hoping that I'll wake up in a few hours with all my objectives complete.

-SPOILER ALERT!- YOUR HAUGHTY LITTLE HOUDINI IMITATOR ONCE AGAIN PULLS OUT A VICTORY AGAINST THE MOST LOATHSOME OF OMNIPOTENT COSMIC HORRORS THIS UNIVERSE CAN BEAR THE BRUNT OF SUSTAINING. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THE AUDIENCE, I HAVE RELINQUISHED THE WIND FROM HIS ASTRAL SAILS IN ONE FELL SWOOP, AND REALLY TAKEN THE DRAMATIC TENSION OUT OF THIS ENTIRE TRANSCRIPT, WITH THE ABOVE. HOWEVER, MY OPPORTUNITY TO WAX POETIC ONLY WIDENS IN REGARD TO THIS, AND I WILL NOW SHOW YOU THE FOLLY OF THE HUMAN RACE.
My objectives:
-Give Michael and Lucy a chance to go wherever they're heading in the next life.
-Give the Obelisk the fucking boot.

WHY, OH PENSIVE YOUNG NICK, WOULD I -EVER- LET YOUR NEAR YOUR FLITTING, PATHETIC ASSOCIATE HAD I A USE LEFT FOR HIM? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU ARE CAPABLE OF AN INCURSION INTO -MY- REALM VOID OF A GUARANTEE OF COMPLETE ANNIHILATION UNLESS I SO DESIRED TO PERMIT YOUR ENTRANCE? I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE TAKEN OFF THE DOOR HINGES, TORN OFF THE FOUNDATION AND BORED A HOLE IN THE ENTRANCE-WAY BIG ENOUGH FOR ONE OF YOUR TRACTOR TRAILERS TO ALLOW EVEN AN IOTA OF YOUR BEING TO CROSS THE THRESHOLD. BUT I- HMM. ANOTHER. WELL, HELLO THERE YOUNG LADY. MAY I ASK YOUR NAME?

Good plan, right? I know I like it. Time to go to work. I can feel the vast plane that is the Obelisk. It's a scary fucking thing, when your mind brushes against something like this. But it is what it is. I'm seeking out Michael's soul in all this morass. Wherever he goes, he doesn't deserve to be trapped in THIS shithole.

There was once a Maiden. She observed all the comings and goings with a critical eye. Confusion reigned as she viewed the newcomer, but she was getting more used to this. This world was a complicated thing, filled with complicated people. At least the Obelisk was something she could understand.

I think I've been sitting here for hours. I'm used to waiting. For spirits, for people, for the truth. Learning to be patient has been hard, but I've gotten used to it after a lifetime of waiting.

STEAMING IN A POOL OF YOUR OWN ARROGANCE, I SEE. AS USUAL. HOW -DIFFICULT- IT MUST BE TO SIT ABOUT ON YOUR BUPKUS! SUCH HALLUCINATIONS OF GRANDEUR ARE THE DETRIMENT OF A SPECIES PROPPED UP BY THE HOPE THAT THEIR PERSONAL STRENGTH CAN OVERCOME ALL OBSTACLES, AND THE CRUTCH SUCH CONSIDERATIONS PLACE UPON THE ACQUISITION OF POWER. THE HARANGUING OF YOUR PAL WAS NOT A SADISTIC ENDEAVOR. OH, NO - YOU SEE, MICHAEL HAD A PART IN HIM I REQUIRED TO ACCOMPLISH...PERSONAL GOALS.

The otherworldly entity is a world unto himself. The Maiden has observed such thing before, and is impressed.. It is a very rare thing for an entire world to become a living, thinking creature. The questions she could ask of it! But it is not to be.

I awaken in this strange, strange world. It is an ashen wasteland. Even the skies are gray. The debris of long dead trees lie here and there. The only sign of any kind of civilization is a lone obelisk rising in the distance. That is where I must go. I walk for what feels like hours, before I remember that I'm a shaman visiting another world with my astral form. I picture this place being much closer in my mind, and feel my body shift to match the image. I'm right at the base of the Obelisk now.

I feel Michael's presence. His features are dull and complacent. His mind and soul are still intact, even if his body is gone. It's time to set him free. I can feel the Obelisk all around me. It sees through me, it knows me, but I know what it does not: The soul of man is always a million times stronger if even one person believes in it.
 

I realize that I'm smaller. My hands are smaller, my body is smaller, I'm in my other body again. I'm whoever I was in that past life that gave me this body. I can feel the weight of this entire world on me. It doesn't want me here. The Obelisk nearly burned me alive last time, this time it will want me to know and understand pain everlasting. I really, really want to get out of here.

But I always remember rule one: Keep laughing.

"Hey Mike! Why are you tied to a big freaking pillar? How about you come down here so I can take you to Lucy!"

Mike looks dazed and barely conscious.

"Ughh...oh...what? STOP FUCKING WITH MY HEAD, YOU WHITE PIECE OF SHIT!"

He's also delusional. Shit.

Observe the plight of the forgotten man. Lost within the realm of the damned. Tormented by thoughts of those long past. Pathetic, awful, yet one cannot look away.

MAN, YOU CAN SURE MAKE A NERVE-WRACKING SCENE DOUR. DOES THE HACK KEEP YOU AROUND TO KEEP HIM DOWN TO EARTH OR SOMETHING? BECAUSE YOU DO A HORRIFIC JOB AT THAT.

I shout, "Damn it! okay! I'm a woman right now, I get it! Can't your friendly neighborhood Shaman cross the divide between our world and this one and try to pull off an overly simplistic rescue??"

After a minute, Mike gets it.

He says, "Holy Jesus...Nick? Is that you, Nick?" He laughs madly, "Thank my lucky fuckin' stars! Help me out here!"

Chains start flying up at me. But I'm not where they land. I swapped places with a nice cloud. The chains are confused inside it for only a moment as I start falling downward. It's time to get tricky. Teleportation on the astral plane is easy if your head is on straight, and suddenly I'm on the ground again.

The 'Hack' has no bearing on The Maiden's existence. She is who decides if he lives or dies. The deadliest weapon is the one that is self-directed.

YOUR ASSURANCE IN YOUR LACK OF CONTROL IS AMUSING. I AM ALMOST POSITIVE THAT ONCE THE HERMAPHRODITE-HYBRID BEGINS THE HUNT WITH YOUR SCENT ON HIS MIND, YOUR TUNE WILL QUICKLY ALTER.

I start running in a long circle around the Obelisk. I'm hoping the chains will wrap around it and become useless. Instead, they stop and wait for me to come back around. When did evil attack chains start getting Genre Saavy?

The Obelisk speaks in jibes and threats. It does not understand. What it does not know, is that the Weapon will never act against the Maiden. The act of questioning why he would not seek me would be impossible for him. To address my existence would be to threaten his own. For all the ages it has lived, the Obelisk has not learned to understand.

A FAILURE TO ADDRESS CONTINGENCIES, TO ACCOMMODATE FOR UNCONTROLLABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, TO EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED, AND TO MISS CHANCES IN WHICH TO GLOAT OF SUPERIORITY. I'D HAZARD A GUESS THAT YOU ARE ANOTHER BIPEDAL, SENTIENT MEAT BAG FROM THE PLANET EARTH? MAY I REMIND YOU THAT, AS DEMONSTRATED ABOVE, I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF THE HUMILITY NECESSARY TO ACHIEVE WHAT MUST BE WROUGHT, AND THAT IT IS QUITE DANGEROUS TO UNDERESTIMATE WHAT YOU PERSONALLY ESTEEM BELOW YOUR ABILITY.

   

 Mike shouts, "They burn, Nick! Don't let'm grab you!"

The chains fly high up to meet me, which is exactly where I want them. I explode down toward the ground, blue fire pulsing off me. I smash into the chains, continuing downward toward Mike. The chains MELT, the metal forming into a molten steel ball around me. Commanding molten steel to do what I ask? On the astral plane, it's easy as hell. I spin it, forming it into a big sheet of bladed steel, hack off a portion of the chains on Mike with it.

The Maiden considers this statement. She would hazard that she is in fact a bipedal, sentient meat bag. She is most certainly not from earth, and even more so not what you would refer to as "Human", if that is what bipedal sentient meat bag refers to. She is still technically a bipedal sentient meat bag. She is what she always was, a weapon bound to a machine like a thousand gears spinning in perfect unison. But she was the gear that chose to spin the other way. She finds this interview to be fascinating, however short-lived it might be. The maiden has so few chances to speak with someone on her history.

I yell, "The fire in my soul burns hotter than any chain!"

Mike attempts to free himself of the rest of the chains, but they only tighten their grasp and burn more marks onto his soul's skin.

SO CONTENT WITH YOUR STATUS AS A TOOL. IT IS STRANGE, YET AN ENLIGHTENING VISTA INTO THE SENTIENT CONDITION. YOU TREAD A PATH WALKED BY FEW BUT HARRIED WITH MANY FAULT LINES, AS DOES YOUR SUBORDINATE. SPEAKING OF OUR LITTLE SHAMAN, HOW RUDE OF YOU TO DELIVER THIS MENACE FROM HIS PENANCE! TSK, TSK. HIS ENTRAPMENT IS A KARMIC NECESSITY, NICHOLAS DWYER! YOU ONLY BURY YOURSELF IN THIS MEANINGLESS DISPLAY OF POWER!

I form the sheet of steel into a sword, and starts hacking away at the chains, shouting as I do:

"You know what Mike? I had a lot of things in the works for today. I was going to visit Ryuu, get drunk, Relax a bit. My Girlfriend broke up with me the other day. You DIED something like a month or two ago, and what a ridiculous way to go THAT was. Then some spirit goes, 'Hey Nick! Bail him out!' Jumping Jesus Christ on Crutches, Mike! HOW DID YOU MANAGE ALL OF THIS!"

Subordinate? she considers this concept. She takes another moment to contemplate if the weapon counts as a Him, a Her, or an It? She settles on Him as a general pronoun. If it was as simple as him being a subordinate, it would not be nearly so complicated. Sadly, it IS more complicated. One thing is certain however. The Maiden is no shaman. She is a killer.

"Long story, boss...man?"

Oh right. My astral form is Female. He throws off the last of the chains, and they retract into the Obelisk. The ashen world around us begins to rumble, and the ground below our feet starts to crumble and crack as a crevasse begins to tear itself into existence.

He says, "Uhh, Nick? I think it's time we HAULED ASS!"

OH, FOR CERTAIN. THE AIR, THE ATTITUDE, THE UNCARING CONFIDENCE. A BEING WHO RADIATES DEATH AND DECIMATION, TO BE SURE. BUT THE AUDIENCE! I MUST APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY FOR LOSING TRACK OF MY MAIN POINT. AS YOU WATCH THIS SPECTACLE UNFOLD, A BEAUTIFUL CACOPHONOUS CLIMAX TO A TALE WHOSE COURSE HAS RUN OUT AS WOULD A SHRIVELING RIVER'S ESSENCE, WHAT DO YOU TAKE AWAY? WHAT DO THEY, THE ACTORS, TAKE AWAY AS WELL? A SOUL, A MEASLY SPIRIT? THE REAFFIRMATION OF A MAD WITCH DOCTOR'S ARROGANT ATTITUDE? INDEED, NOTHING COMES OF THIS FACADE BUT A MINOR MIGRAINE AND A NOSEBLEED IN THE TRUE REALITY WITHIN WHICH OUR PROTAGONIST DESPERATELY ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE. WHAT IS HE THERE, MIGHT YOU ASK? HE AMOUNTS NOW IN THAT DESPICABLE PLACE TO WHAT MICHAEL BLIGHTWELL DID UNDER MY UNWAVERING POWER - ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

I grabs Snore's hand, and give the air around us a gentle push. This world is like the astral plane, and that means I can do all manner of fun things. We go blasting across the landscape, the land crumbling underneath us.

Sometimes, for want of a nail, a kingdom is lost. Sometimes, the only battles that matter are those in the world of dreams and nightmares. The Maiden observes, and she notes: he's still holding the metal he formed into a sword. Why?

The rest of the ashen waste falls away in a moment, and darkness descends on us. Where are we? A bountiful forest springs up around us. The trees are enormous and gorgeous, spiraling miles into the turquoise sky, polka-dotted by suns and stars all over. Mike's face is overcome with horror as we see it all.

Mike wailed, "No, no, fuck no! Not here again, jesus christ not here again!"

From the bushes descend a terrifying swarm of animal limbs - doe legs, goat heads, wolf bodies and tails, lopping and skittering and prancing across the forest in pursuit of us. They're weird pseudo-animals, made of an amalgamation of a different parts from different animals, a weird Frankenstein's Monster style parade of a mad doctor's wet dream. At its head, there stands a monstrosity with the torso of a man, the head of a wolf, and the legs and horn of an enormous goat.

AHH, YES. MY MOST FAVORITE ALLIES! FOR WHEN THE ANKHALANKHS RANGE FREE, NOT EVEN MAGIC IS SAFE TO KEEP ONE'S MIND IN PLACE!

The trees begin to shift around the tide in impossible ways, joining with the beasts in one moment, at the next being dragged across their surface as an enormous log would be buffeted by the ocean. I wasn't in the mood. I hand the giant sword I formed from the chains to Michael.

I say, "Don't be confused by the weight. It weighs nothing because this is magic. You don't need to explain it, it just is."

Then I draw my sword.

Then I say, "And I don't care HOW terrifying this place is, TREES BURN."

With that, I feel the energy in the world around us. With a snap of my wrist, I propel both of us forward at the horde. We swing our swords as we go, blue fire arcing through the air around us as we charge.

That one with the goat head looks particularly delicious. Mmmm. You find many odd morsels when hunting on the trail.

The horde parts way as we scythe their way through, the magical fire scaring the primitive beasts back. Around us, reality becomes hazardous. I can see universes where we are both massacred, skewered and torn piece by piece in awful spectacles of gore and chaos. In a moment, as the last bit of the horde falls away, burnt or slashed, melted or vivisected, we burst into a clearing, and there it is - the Obelisk, ascending high into the sky, shaded only by the enormous canopy above.

WELL, THEY AREN'T THE SMARTEST OF CREATURES, TO BE SURE. ALTHOUGH I EXPECTED THEM TO KEEP THIS DUO DELAYED A BIT LONGER, THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. WELCOME, NICOLAS DWYER AND MICHAEL BLIGHTWELL! OUR AUDIENCE IS DUTIFULLY WAITING FOR THE COUP DE GRACE. WITH BAITED BREATH, THEY HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR RECKLESS ADVENTURES, PENNING THEIR HOPES ON THE RESOLUTION OF AN ULTIMATE FINALE, A FANTASTIC CLIMAX, THE ORGASMIC RELEASE OF EMOTIONAL TENSION THAT SO PERMEATES THE THEATRICAL ATMOSPHERE UPON WHICH WE PLAY! OH, I CAN TASTE THE INTENSITY! IT BURNS ME NOW, SO CLOSE TO THAT INIMITABLE PRECIPICE OF FREEDOM!

The Maiden considers the nature of the Obelisk. She determines that perhaps he needed to get out more? Paradoxically, there is no way that he can. He's a giant building within a world of his own creation, after all.

    I say, "You've GOT to be shitting me. Mike, we've got to go through it to get back to the exit, don't we?"

    Mike says, "Seems like the perfect way to round this off." He glances over to me, and grins hopefully. "Well, Mr. Sage-man, you ready to head home?"

I RESENT THAT LITTLE JAB, MISSY. I MANAGE MY HEALTH PERFECTLY IN RELATION TO MY PERSONAL NECESSITIES. BUT I SHALL NOT BE DISTRACTED! YES, THIS IS THE TRUE FINALE. MY PARTING EPILOGUE FOR THE VIEWERS AT HOME, SITTING ON THEIR COMFORTABLE CHAIRS, PERUSING THIS MASTERPIECE AS IT DRAWS TO A CLOSE. I PROMISED YOU A TWIST BEFORE, AND ALTHOUGH I AM NOT THE MOST MORAL OF INDIVIDUALS, IT WOULD PAIN MY CONSCIOUS TO BREAK A PROMISE OF SUCH CALIBER. YOU ARE ALL SUCH WELL BEHAVED PARTICIPANTS, TOO, WATCHING WITH SHOCK AS THE TRAGIC FIGURE OF SNORE-DE-BLISS STRUGGLED FOR PEACE, GASPED IN SOLITUDE, AND PASSED AWAY. YOU OBSERVED WITH AWE AS HE AND MARLEY ESCAPED MY GRASP IN CALIFORNIA. BUT WHAT DOES THE NIGHTMARISH MONSTER CHASING HIM HAVE IN STORE THAT WOULD SO THOROUGHLY RATTLE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THIS ENDEAVOR? NAUGHT BUT THIS ONE FACT: I -AM- THE STUPDENOUS MENACE HIMSELF, SNORE-DE-BLISS, ALSO KNOWN AS MICHAEL BLIGHTWELL, AND I EMERGE VICTORIOUS, EVEN THROUGH DEFEAT. GOOD NIGHT, DEAR FRIENDS IN REALITY. GOOD NIGHT, DEAR MAIDEN. I HOPE WE GET TO CHAT AGAIN. UNTIL THEN, STAY  NOSTALGICALLY DREAMING!

Time moves in mysterious ways. And so the case of Michael Blightwell flows onward. Saving a soul today causes chaos in the past, as well as the future, while having no affect on the present. One circle is complete. Now on to the next.

And suddenly, I find myself awake, staring up at Mike.

I say, "Time to go find your girl in the afterlife." 

We were out of Obelisk land and back in something like reality. Michael was floating around me, and ready to go on to a real afterlife. 

"What...Lucy? Oh jesus christ this is going to be strange. But...I can hear her. Hee hee, I can hear her now. She's serenading me, in that lovely voice of hers. Nick, can I talk to you for a second before I leave? I need to clear the air about some things."

I manage to say, "Fire away. I'm not just a taxi service to the great beyond. I take the spiritual guide thing pretty seriously."

The air around us is covered in a fine mist, and two doors can be seen on either side of me. Just like always, one white, and one black.

Mike says, "Well, I gotta say thank you for all the help you've given me in this ridiculous bullshit. Although I'm let down that my normal life's completely over now...to be frank, the fear that death equated to nonexistance lingered over me almost every day of my adult life. So I did things that I really shouldn't have done in the past, and really mired myself up in some events I could have avoided, because I thought I needed to see it all before I became meaningless. But now I have this second chance, and I'm not intent on wasting it. So thank you for that opportunity."

"Not a Problem. incidentally, you'll notice a door to the right of me, and a door to the left of me. One white, one black. The black one doesn't lead to hell, and the white one doesn't lead to heaven. Where they go I can't tell you...as I have no idea. But I know that the dead go through one or the other at the end. Go through the one that you feel is right."

"The right one, huh?" Mike grasps his chin for a moment, deep in contemplation. "Well, I'm not a man to choose based on whimsy."

Reaching into the back of his pocket, he pulls out a spiritual quarter. It's amazing the things people bring into the land of the dead.

He says, "Heads, we go to Olympus. Tails, into the Land of the Dead."

With a ting, the coin goes sailing into the air, and after a few rotations comes sailing down into Mike's outstretched palm. He flips the coin onto the back of his other hand, and reveals the face of George Washington, emblazoned upon soul-colored silver.

"Well, shit. Heard her voice coming from there anyway." A smile graces his face as he walks up to me and gives me a firm handshake. "I'm just sorry we couldn't knock some booze down together. Promise you'll visit?" 

He pauses, watching the White Door nervously. I don't blame him. Nobody wants to admit when it's time to go. Not at first anyway.

I shake his hand, breaking him out of his reverie, and say, "I'll stop by some time. Although...it always looks weird. Keep in mind, it's a place for the Soul, wherever it is. The living can't really comprehend it."

"Hey, whatever works best for you, holmes." Striding over to the door, Mike reaches for the handle before remembering something and turning back to me: "How's Slim Jim treating you?"

"No better, no worse. It is what it is. Goodbye Mike. I wish you luck. You deserved better."

"Terrible thing, isn't it? You get chased by a fat guy, or you get chased by a skinny fuck. Bulemia or anorexia, and you can't even take your pick!" He laughs, although it sounds insincere. "See you too. And hey, I'm not out of it completely! I still got Lucy to deal with. You keep safe, alright? And stop by for a round if needed."

The door closes swiftly behind him.

------


I woke up five minutes ago to the vast supply of What The Fuck that is this post. I don't really understand any of it, and when I look at anything "Maiden" wrote, I get a massive headache.Michael is off to the afterlife, and that's what counts.


And Redlight is playing with Tree Juice that cuts holes in the Veil or Barrier or whatever the fuck have you between this world and the astral plane. Fuck.

Fuckedy Fuck Fuckerson. Son of Anal Sex. There are no words to describe how bad this is. I've got MORE work to do.

Waking Up

Texas isn't a place that you want to be stuck in. Nothing beats waking up one morning and feeling the Migraine of your life. I recalled peering onto the Astral plane, and seeing at least twenty odd people in shining green armor. Each of them sat on top of a pissed off looking unicorn. That was about when I knew I was in trouble.

Their leader said to me, "Now, at last, I will have vengeance for what you did to my father!"

I was confused by this. I sat up and said, "Who was your father, exactly?"

He shouted, "Do you not recognize my Heraldry? My armor?!"

I observed him with my senses. His Heraldry was covered in vines with a shield and a sword crossed with a trident. I didn't remember it at all.

I said, "Well...uh...Work with me here. Where did I kill him? Are you sure you have the right guy?"

This made him madder, "I know it was done by the War Without End, the woman whose death never comes, the Beast in Blue, who has suddenly awaken from her slumber!"

And now I felt like a serious asshole:

"Look, I'm sorry. I really don't remember. I mean...I killed a LOT of people during my career. I never wanted it to go that way, but that's how it happened. I'm very, very sorry."

He shouted, "No! It's not acceptable! You don't even remember his name?! His face!?"

It terrifies me that I can actually say "But for me, It was Tuesday", and not be joking around. The sheer number of bodies I stacked up when things were at their worst, and the sheer amount of psychic weight I endured, well, I honestly only remember maybe a quarter of it on the good days.

I said, "I'm really, really sorry."

"THAT ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH!"

Then the pain started. Getting impaled through a wall by multiple lances was never a good way to start your day. I remember Elaine staring over at me with concern, as the physical world and the astral plane wrapped around each other. I recall being at dinner with her and August and Spencer, but only bits and pieces. Did they even notice how quiet I was?

I recall cutting three of the unicorn riding knights in half with lasers I fired from my eyes. It gave me room to maneuver, and then I had my sword out. Nets, and vast waves of power were flung in my direction. That was okay. I was used to nets. When entities find an astral form that is much, much more potent than theirs, and all they have is numbers on their side, they tend to go with some kind of astral weapon like a net to bring their target down. When the net was burning with a blue flame and these bastard started running their unicorns the fuck out of the way, I began to go to work. Astral combat is a fluid, strange thing, but I could feel the unicorns projecting something toward me. I was barely conscious during all this, because of whatever they were hitting me with.

I have a thing about killing unicorns. The correct answer is to not fight them at all. They're magnificent, wonderful creatures that mostly live on the Higher Planes, and occasionally visit the astral plane. Fast, deadly, powerful, and friendly. No unicorn I've ever seen starts a fight with someone who doesn't have it coming to them. I wonder what that says about me? So when I drop a lightning bolt on one that frags the unicorn and it's rider, I try to feel bad. It doesn't take. I can't say I feel all that charitable toward people that are trying to kill me.

I could spend a few hours describing an epic conflict, but it's not worth it. At the end of the day, surrounded by a pile of bodies, feeling dozens of weapons in my side, I stood amidst my ambushers and they fell down in a bloody mess. The Knight who'd started all of this stared at me. It looked like he was about to cry.

And all I could say was, "I am Sinistar. Beware, I live. Run, Run, Run. Beware, Coward. Run Coward."

He started bawling tears, and rather than running like hell as he should have, his Unicorn intensified that beam that was doing SOMETHING to me, and he charged me. He was screaming something about glory and honor.

I roared. As his body fell to the ground, I found myself saying:

"I hunger."

Even half dead and covered with wounds, insane and facing yet another side effect of the things I've wrought, I can still make bad videogame references.

Hours passed. I woke up on a hotel bed, staring up at Elaine. She looked worried.

She asked me: "Are you alright?"

I said, "I am now.."

Nobody's killing me yet. I still have work to do.

The Wedding

Oh yes. It did not go well. The German Bell-hop Morningstar (very much comparable to the picture above with the flaws in his disguise) was on a warpath, and we had ALL the usual suspects. It would be him, or any dozen of other proxies running around. We Tend To Attract Them. Hell, we even had Jean there. Although, she was passed out on a pew, rather drunk as a skunk, during the trouble. Then someone brought her to the reception, where she laid out drunk as a skunk. I wish she'd been awake for more of the festivities. Then again, it also meant she got to skip the trouble.

Ohhhh the trouble. The reception was attacked by the goddamn Village People. It started when Spencer pulled me, that Konaa kid, Elaine, and one of Spencer's delivery boys out of the party because we found the Chef dead in the kitchen. We sprang into action. Which is to say I stood there staring at the body.

The Chef's spirit was going nuts. He needed some rites, he needed time to deal with the fact that he was dead, and I had to put up with the whole show. The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny was going on everywhere around us, and I was trying to deal with the dead.

So they're carrying the body to dispose of it while I'm trying to tune out a completely berserk spirit (I can't believe I just wrote that sentence), and then we run into Bellhop/Morningstar, with all kinds of other craziness starting with chair explosions in the other room.

We split up. I had a score or three to settle with Morningstar. I managed to rush his ass into an elevator during all the craziness. I owed him for what he did to Forgemaster and Green Man. He nearly stabbed me to death, I got a cut on my arm that is now very well bandaged, I rammed his face against the wall a few times...and then the door opened to reveal Crouching Tiger and Brown Recluse.

Morningstar made his escape, I made use of some commercial pepper spray I made it a point to hide up my sleeves to blind Brown Recluse. Then Crouching Tiger gave me a good shot to the gut on my way out of the elevator. I was out of options. Crouching Tiger is capable of killing me with his bare hands unless I get all kinds of lucky

It's hard to fight in a suit. I needed to be someone who'd mastered it for this occasion. I'd been experimenting with this particular Totem as of late, and it was time to give it a practice run. I pulled out my sunglasses from inside my suit.

Suit + Tie + Sunglasses = The Agent.

The Agent is THE LAW. He represents The System, and upholding it.

The Agent said to Morningstar and his toadies, "I am the agent. You're all under arrest."

And they ran away. I still have no idea if the Agent is of any use. By the time I made it back to the reception hall, everything was pretty much getting back into order. And not too long after that, me and Elaine went back to our room. Nobody died, and no one on our side of things was seriously injured. It's damn good to be at a reception with armed Marines. Trained guests tend to cut down on the number of casualties.

I don't have much more to say about what happened. I was busy fighting Morningstar in the elevator. I missed most of the fun. You know, other than what happened at the wedding, I've been actually starting to feel better. Like maybe I can do what I need to do. Fun times.

Off to a Wedding

Having a good time. I needed this. I have more writing to do, but it can wait for now.

Something that has this many runners hanging around is going to go badly. I know it. But maybe it'll be okay?

And now: Some music.

Operation: Willy Nilly -/|\- Hours 19 - 15

 Operation: Willy-Nilly

I'm much better after the pain that was Operation: Wintergreen. Woke up half dead, having clawed my way from the entrance to the vortex to the exit. It's good to actually feel alive, I've healed up nicely. One life saved. Time to help all the others.

First: I did not answer some questions that were asked in the post before last. I'd like to get that out of the way. Ryuu has already heard this rant. I'm putting this out publicly, to make life easier on everyone.

"Analyze the Corruption" ... "Different Purifiers."...

Le Sigh, as the French might say. Not to be an ass everybody, but this isn't Science. This is MAGIC. It's not precise, and it definitely doesn't follow the rules of the Scientific Method. I mean, if it has a signature, I'd call it Essence of Slenderfucker. It's dark, it's mean, it doesn't like people. There's a hint of wood.

I mean, the Chinese believed that there are five elements, Earth, Wood, Metal, Fire, and Water. The west believed in Earth, Air, Fire, Water. I've always believed in Earth, Wind, Water, Fire, Darkness, and Light. I mix systems when I have to in order to describe something, hence "A hint of wood."

Mostly, this Jade is bad news, and now that you've seen it: I'm going to purify it so hard that the guy who carved it will sit up in bed and say, "My word! My hands feel as though they've been washed by the unending river of time with the soap of eternity and perfumed by the sweet scents first made for the Pharaohs of Egypt." That shit will be PRISTINE by the time I'm done with it. End of story.

As per your questions, Keiken...I need you to be more specific. What dreams are we talking about here? Link me? List me? What've you got?

As per your statement, Arsoness, you can go burn and die in a fire. Alex (of all people) has grown up, and he's coming to save the day.

Meanwhile, what am I doing? I'm putting an extremely important plan into action. I'm trying to get around the damn filter. I do not know what's going on here at all. As near as I can tell, it adapted to me. And maybe you're right Ryuu. Maybe I should just listen to Time Lord this time. But you know something? If he is performing some ridiculously convoluted mega-plan, he should have brought me into the loop. Since he hasn't, my assumption is that he needs me to run around willy-nilly, causing all manner of insane shit to happen. Admittedly, it's a much, much more complicated plan than that...but for the moment, it's very straightforward. Therefore: Operation Willy-Nilly is going into effect.

Current Guidelines for Operation Willy-Nilly:
1: Brute force the fucking entries through my blog with extreme prejudice
2: Smite Evil
3: Be Heroic.

Stupid? Maybe. Effective? Certainly. No matter what I do, I know for certain that if I follow Operation: Willy-Nilly, it'll get SOMEONE'S attention. And then I'll know where to go from here.

Why am I going so hard against common sense? Because I had a talk with Weaver today. Her, Spinner, and Cutter have been working at the local movie theater near the apartment. She had been coming in from work while I was writing this entry, and then:

Weaver said, "What the fuck are you doing?"

I looked up from my laptop, blinked, and asked, "Writing another entry?"

Weaver said, "Will that help you find (Timelord) and allow us to go back to Buffalo?"

"Well...no..."

"It's been Months! Now I know all kinds of crazy shit is happening, but what exactly have you been doing for Months?!"

"It's complicated."

"What is it that you're not telling me? I may not have known you for all that long, but I know you don't SIT. It's not what you do, so why are you?"

I decided to let her in on the secret as to why I've been sitting still for all this time:

"(Weaver). I know who's behind this. I know everything I need to know. And I know that if I move right now, we'll all die. It will be horrible. It will be gruesome. It will involve torture. (Time Lord) is what this has always been about, and it all connects back to a woman you'll never know. She's been dead for a few months now, and I saw what she's been hiding from me for eight years. And when it all comes to pass, there will be no defense. I have two choices: Choose where to die, or find a way to keep us alive. (Time Lord) put something into action for just that, but I think I've got a better plan. I need you to trust me for now, alright? You just need to live your life and not worry for a little while longer."

Weaver stared at me. After about thirty seconds, she said:

"Can we run?"

I said, "There's nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. The man who interrogated you in that room, the one I've been calling Mastermind... he's known where we are for a while. And he knows that we know he knows. This isn't something you can run from. It's too damn big. He's leaving us out in the open as bait to lure out (Time Lord). And so long as we stay out in the open, he'll leave us alone. He doesn't even care if we know we're bait, because he knows I know what he'll do when we outlive our usefulness. We're trapped. But not for long."

Weaver was silent.

I said, "I had a War Council after all this started. We came up with Operation: Willy-Nilly. Just keep living Weaver. Whatever happens next, this game is going into overtime."

And then I figured out how to break the filter on the next few segments.

------

At least, not until I GO OVERBOARD AND FUCK SHIT UP!

Needless to say, I've been feeling very pissy as of late regarding perception filters on my blog. It is, as they say, Go time.

Let me know if you can actually read this entry. I've left Editor's notes where necessary.

-/|\-

Hours 19 - 15

Nothing quite says fun like riding to a Hotel after coffee. Weaver was driving, I was riding shotgun. We'd found a pretty cheap one. Before anybody guesses, yes, it was the same hotel from "Hotel Room." And the same damn room. Mindwash gave us our keys, and we headed up to room 215. The first thing I noticed about room 215 was the fact that it felt lived in. My third eye, sixth sense, call it whatever you will, is open all the time. I literally can't turn it off, and that means that I pick up on all kinds of things right off the bat. And in this case, this room had been home to someone for a while before I got there. It just felt...Homey. I felt more comfortable there.

It was a room with two beds, a TV, an alarm clock, all the things you'd expect from a half-way decent hotel room. I won't say what the inn was, but Wifi came with the package. Got to love having good internet.

Weaver and I laid down on our respective beds. The sun had been down for a while now, we'd eaten something at Weaver's before we ran out this way. Between getting Weaver packed and out the door and getting the hard cash to pay for a night at a motel. (Editor's Note: I wasn't letting her use her credit card when something was after her. I was just that paranoid. I was also a cheapskate, we used money she'd had laying around her apartment. Like hell I was using MY money for this mess, Timelord was reimbursing this shit when it was all over, I intend to see to that.) We were both pooped. and by some unspoken agreement it was time to talk about things.

At about this point, Weaver said, "You grabbed me, jumped out a window with me, rolled over a car, and then got me to safety in the face of a vicious mantis entity attack."

I said, "Yup."

Then she said, "Then we went to get coffee so you could feel more alive, and you completely destroyed an army of the things surrounding the coffee shop."

"Yup."

She said, "Why the hell are these things trying to kill me?"

"Us, Weaver. And I don't know. You were here when this started."

Weaver was silent for a minute.

Then she said, "We had no idea. We went to (Time Lord)'s to hang out, like always...and then they were there. Why are you here, anyway?"

"Because he took something from me. I'm not leaving until I get it back."

She asked, "What did he take from you?"

"Peace of mind."

We were quiet for a while.

Weaver said, "That's important enough to come running all the way to Buffalo from Philadelphia?"

I thought about it. Then I said, "Peace of mind is precious. It's like solid gold in this profession. I don't expect you to understand at this point."

He's not wrong. I have achieved understanding on this matter, now that I have read that.

That's when I noticed a bit of motion out of the corner of my eye. I reached over the side of the bed slowly for my duffel bag. I slowly unzipped it. (Editor's Note: I think back on this moment, and it seriously confuses me. I'm a perceptive guy, but would I know at a glance that we were being spied on by something? I'm about ninety percent sure now that something had managed to get through my head and make a "suggestion", and that means that I'm about one hundred percent sure that Timelord was nearby, performing cosmic head-fucking shenanigans.)

Weaver said, "You're not going to have to hurt him to get it back though, are you?"

Then I pulled that lovely Cold Iron Longsword out of the bag.

(Editor's Note: Yeah. THAT Longsword. The one that I had Forgemaster make for the express purpose of giving me a close combat weapon for when SlenderSuit McFuckDoucher came to town. It hadn't gone missing yet at this point in our timeline of lost memories.)

His dependence on weapons will get him killed.

That's when Weaver screamed as I rolled over with the sword drawn and leaped at the window, and the window crashed inward, revealing a man in a blood red mask with a blood red cloak.

(Editor's Note: REDFUCKER THE MASK GUY! Who got us both teargassed! It's THAT Fucker! Argh.)

He should treat his honored enemies with more respect.

He was going for the traditional, "I land in a crouch, and then stand up while unfurling my cloak dramatically" approach. I responded by slamming my boot into his gut, and holding the tip of the sword at his throat. He looked very surprised at all of this.

I said, "Who are you?"

He said, "Behold? I am the Masque of Red Death? I herald the fall of this fortress?"

Weaver said, "What the fuck?"

I said, "You're an Edgar Allen Poe fan. Cute. Slenderfucker, right?"

Masque said, "Uh. Yeah. Put that sword somewhere else, or you shall know his limitless fury?"

I said, "You sound about as confident as the Boom-Goes-The-Dynamite kid."

That's when the whole thing went straight to hell. A booming voice cut resounded through the room:

"LAUGHING HYENA DISPATCHES YOUR FACE AND PUTS YOU IN YOUR PLACE!"

Ladies and Gentlemen, Crouching Tiger had arrived. As in Morningstar's lackey, Crouching Tiger. As in Mr. Calls-His-Attacks-Ever-Time Crouching Tiger. When Lucy Ricardo first wrote about his acquisition of Crouching Tiger to his team, I honestly skimmed the post. After the first two, I figured it was all some kind of stupid joke. But no, I encountered the same gods-be-damned Crouching Tiger X months ago. And the very first thing that happened was a trio of quick punches that drilled into my head and knocked me on my ass. I did not see that shit coming. Now, Crouching Tiger has a serious weakness: he can only move as fast as his mouth. But his mouth moves pretty fast.

That was about the time that Weaver stepped up to the plate. As it turns out, she knows a thing or two about Hand-to-hand combat. I asked later, and found out that she had spent a few years studying Wing Chun. Now, anybody who doesn't know Wing Chun just needs to know this: Lots of punches. Just about everything moves in a straight line. All the blocks turn into punches. It always moves forward, even when it moves backwards. You know, how about I shorten this whole damn description down to, "Watch a Bruce Lee movie", because that's what the basis of his Jeet Kune Do ended up being.

So Masque of Red Death went down with one punch from her. While all this is going on in the background, I'm desperately trying to pick myself up off the ground. And I realize, that even if I DO pick myself up off the ground, there wasn't anything I was going to do. Crouching Tiger had hit me three times before I had even realized the bastard was in the room. How was I going to match that?

In the background, I heard:
"Eagle swoops low!"
"HAH!"
"Snake strikes the squirrel!"
"Hoo! foo. Foo."
"Toad hops over companion!"

I heard Red Mask groan as someone stepped on him. I bet you can tell who was saying what above pretty easily. After all, only ONE of them was using correct noises, and attempting to use Kiai style shouting to get her blood pumping. The other was saying random silly phrases. But in spite of those random silly phrases, his movements were perfect. His technique was fantastic. I had managed to crawl to one of the beds, asking myself the entire time: "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Amalgamation Sage knew exactly enough about martial arts to get his ass kicked in new and interesting ways. We needed someone who actually knew his business, and knew it well enough to keep up with this crazy Kung-fu shenanigan-o-rama. And that's when I saw it. There was a belt. Right there, under the bed, a traditional Karate belt. People don't really THINK about the Belt System that most martial arts use. The origin behind all those red belts and blue belts and black belts and such, was that you would give a student a white belt at the outset...and then, as the student trained and trained hard, it would get dirtier and dirtier. If you fought a martial artist who had practiced long enough and hard enough that his belt had turned black, it meant that you were fighting one hardcore skilled son of a bitch. That's where it all came from. And this belt? Whoever it had belonged to, it was NOT the pristine belt of a student.

I lunged for it. People didn't just leave that sort of thing laying around in a Hotel room. A real martial artist treated his belt as sacred. I grabbed the thing and felt exactly what it was. Someone had prepared this thing as a goddamn Totem. We were back in business.

I hastily grabbed it, and started tying it as fast as I could. I didn't quite know what totem this would end up being, but I had the tool. As I tied it, I looked up, and saw the big problem I had to deal with.

Right now, Crouching Tiger was using something that looked like Hung Gar. Hung Gar is a fighting style with five animals (Crane, Snake, Tiger, Leopard, and Dragon when you put it all together.) To give you an idea of how this style operates, here's what you need to know: Just about every series of attacks is designed so that you can hopefully end it with a move called "Tiger Rips Out The Throat." It's self-explanatory. But this guy was also throwing out stuff like Eagle and I swear to god I thought I saw Monkey for a minute there. Right as I finished tying the belt, Weaver got him with a series of punches to the chest...which he took, stumbled backward, and turned that stumble into a kick to her face:

He said as he did, "Drunken Monkey disciplines wild dog!"

She stumbled back. That one took a lot out of her.

And then whoever I was stood up. We all heard a gong go off somewhere. I wish I was kidding. Weaver and Tiger stopped what they were doing to trade glances between me and the TV and the Window and...


I disapprove. He should fight using his own strength.

Crouching Tiger said, "Confused Tiger listens for gong?"

Then I said, in a voice that was not my own, "The Student has arrived."

The Student. This one confuses me. The belt was a faded, dark gray. I guess the idea was that he was a person who knew he would never be the master, but tried and forced himself to learn and push forward anyway. He took his lumps, and gave back a few more, learning as much as he could as he went along. The learning never stopped. He wouldn't start the fight, but by the gods he would end it.

From outside my body, I watched as he took his stance. All he did was bend his knees a little. This was some kind of Tai Chi stance.

Crouching Tiger lunged forward, but The Student caught his arm, pressing forward without force, but with perfect precision. Crouching Tiger found himself spun around, his arm was caught in a very awkward position. I saw my body kick him hard in the ass, sending him backward, tripping over the fallen figure of Red Mask. Crouching Tiger came up in a roll, and I saw my body and Weaver move forward at the same time.

WHAM. Two fists impacted hard into Crouching Tiger's face. He caught himself on the wall next to the window. The Student knew that Weaver would kick low, so he chose to kick high. My leg CAN'T connect with someone's jaw at that height, it's physically impossible for me to do so. But The Student brought my leg up that high anyway. Crouching Tiger ducked that, and found himself ducking into Weaver's kick. He stumbled a little to the side, placing himself right in the frame of the broken window.

That's about when the Student calmly received a punch from Crouching Tiger, which he redirected off to the side, allowing Weaver to come in with a perfect jab to Crouching Tiger's gut, which The Student followed up by calmly pushing Tiger out the window.

Crouching Tiger landed on the sidewalk, rolled, and stared up at us. I heard the door open and shut behind us. That was Red Mask slipping out while we were busy. Crouching Tiger bowed, and calmly started walking away down the sidewalk.

He shouted, "Panther retreats to the Jungle!"

Then the Student took off the belt, and said, "Leave it here for next time."

I shivered when I was in my own body again. I put the belt back under the bed, wondering when and how Next Time would come about.

Weaver meanwhile, just stared at me.

I ignored her, saying, "Kung fu is important to the Reinforcement Fairy's training regimen."

Then I went to sleep. Weaver said something about calling hotel security and paying for damages. I told her to fuck off and that we'd deal with it tomorrow.

(Editor's Note: Yeah. I have no doubt. Something was influencing my actions. None of this feels right at all.)

Reckless and Foolish. Is that all he is?

Quick Update: Operation Wintergreen

Been busy trying to help these guys. Before anyone gives me crap, Arkady may be an insane psycho killer, but Setoth and the rest are plenty sane and need the help. They've hit some serious dimensional cluster-fuck, and I don't use that term lightly. They ought to have an entire squad of people with shotguns for this shit.

 

I'd be lying if I said I was confident in their odds. But hey, I'll try to help improve said odds as best I can. Here goes nothing, eh gents?