Update
I got a lot more work done today. Mostly, it was more between-action stuff, and my mind got a bit hazy while working on it, so it'll be interesting going through once November's over and seeing how much editing I need to do on this story.
Current Word Count: 28,645
Scene of the Day
A thought occurred to me, and I bit my tongue to keep my
mouth shut.
The idea that he’d put me under some mild hypnosis
without me noticing was hard to buy, but it wasn’t wholly out of the realm of
possibilities.
Without knowing what his Nephilim blood had granted him,
I couldn’t be sure.
Something was making me talkative, though, which wasn’t
something I did with anyone I hadn’t known for a long time.
It was something that was honestly starting to worry me.
Even as I considered it, I heard Jess’s snark as though
she were right there with me.
“I get the feelin’ you’re not usually this talkative,”
he said, as though he’d read my mind. “Do you just handle discomfort poorly, or
is there something else to that?”
A quick glance from the road confirmed that, as I’d
suspected from his voice, the bastard was grinning.
Apparently, he agreed with my fictional Jessica’s
comment.
“No idea, honestly. I don’t get this bothered, usually.
If it was you, I’d probably know.”
He chuckled at that, reclining a bit in his seat in the
picture of comfort.
“If you mean, am I messin’ with your head, then no? If
you’re wondering if I’m just that good, that I can get you to open up like
this, well… Do keep in mind that I
run a neutral zone, Lugus,” he quipped.
“Morgana. I’m not old enough fer that crap.”
“You keep callin’ me by my last name, so fair’s fair,”
he retorted. “Anyways, do you have anything else with you? Your knife and
magic, and skills at handling them, are impressive, thus far. But we might need
a bit more, if we’re headin’ straight into some militia compound.”
“Glove compartment, under the map, inside the second
book,” I said, hoping to stop talking while I was behind.
I was getting unnerved at the ease with which he was
charming my life story out of me, whether intentionally or not.
He quickly set to work sifting through the compartment,
and came up with the weapon even faster.
The gun was the color of night, and released a faint
magical hiss.
Even across the car, I could feel the power humming
inside the M1911’s silver bullets.
Unlike me, he seemed perfectly comfortable with such
close contact.
“Homemade, I take it?”
Somehow, the question felt insulting.
“Yeah. Hasn’t failed me yet.”
“Feels like it’s been through its paces. It’s humming
like crazy with your wild magic… You have some very interesting skills, Morgana,” he mused.
“Oh, ya’ don’t know the halfa’ it. Get me near a
computer ‘n I’ll blow yer mind.”
“I thought you said your ADHD left things to the snow
woman. Doesn’t seem to mix well with computer work.”
“Jess said the same thing when we were younger,
actually. I just roll with it,” I shrugged.
“Not often that there’re people that seem capable and
varied at the same time. I’m thinking I should give you a call if Mick’s ever
feeling under the weather.”
I couldn’t help the chill that sentiment brought.
“Yeah, I’ll give that a pass. Ya’ve got enough problems
without someone who’s pissed off at least a third a the big players in Arkham.
Would be bad for business.”
Evidently, whoever had been selling him my tales hadn’t
mentioned the early years.
I could feel his surprise permeating the air, as well as
his stare.
The feeling brought another realization to me, and I
focused on the psychic impressions around me.
With a deep breath, I brought my mind into a calmed
state, and as soon as I did, the urge to talk disappeared.
Somehow, my guard had slipped in my skittishness, and
that’d been all it had taken for Collin’s charismatic psychic presence to slip
in.
No wonder the guy managed to hold his own in a neutral
zone.
I was suddenly very glad the Nephilim wasn’t into cults
or gangs, because it would be a real problem, now that I felt the full weight
of his presence on my mind without being taken in by it.
His laugh snapped me out of my musings and brought my
focus back on the road, though I made sure to keep the walls up, now.
“You’ve got me interested. Anyone I know?”
“I’m sure you would. Another time, though. For now,
we’ve reached our barren slice of Hell.”
He went on high alert as we passed the sign marking
Dunwich’s border.
For all we knew, this person, whoever she was, already
had an idea we were coming and had set up an ambush.
I focused the previous nerves and used the energy to
cast my senses out as far as they could reach.
“The fish are hiding in their shacks. Whoever she is,
she either paid them off or has them scared.”
“You can tell that from here?”
“Vaguely. The car throws things off. And I don’ want ta’
just throw any magic inta’ the mix ta’ extend it, because our mystery woman
might notice it. More importantly, that thing
at the bottom of the Miskatonic might notice, and this close to its domain
domain, I definitely wanna’ keep my
magic up close an’ personal.”
He paled at that, and I felt a strange sense of
suffocation as he pulled all his ambient energy into tight control.
“Yeah, I’ll pass on that, today. We’ve got enough
problems. Still, damn good range. If this goes over without both of us gettin’
killed, this definitely won’t be our last time workin’ together.”
“I tend ta’ hope my clients only ever see me one time.
With you, doin’ what ya’ do, that’s probably true.”
“So you always drive around with a weapon loaded with
silver?” he asked, staring at the gun in consideration.
“Ya’d be surprised how much I have in common with the
scouts. Unfortunately, that’s almost all we had, since I wasn’t expecting to
need heavy firepower today.”
“Almost?”
“I had Jess write up some sutras yesterday. Knock ya’ on
yer ass, but they’ll give anythin’ I activate them on a real bad headache.”
“Oh, I think that’ll be enough, in a pinch. With what
I’ve seen so far, assumin’ you can keep up the pace, I’m sure we’ll be able to
handle it just fine.”
“Yer confidence in my stamina is flatterin’. Let’s hope
you’re right.”
“Oh, I imagine you have plenty of that. We’d better hope
so, at least. Anyway, if you change your mind and get at all interested in my offer, please tell me. Mick needs to take a
personal day once in a while, and won’t if there’s not someone competent
helping me out.”
Any response I might have made was cut off when I
noticed what was coming up.
Collin released an impressive string of curses when I
swerved off the dirt road and pulled the car up behind a large, rocky
outcropping.
I cut the engine as soon as we came to a full rest, and
slipped silently outside.
He followed a confused moment later, his eyes locked on
the massive, wooden bridge on the other side of the rocks.
It wasn’t nearly as long as it was wide, connecting the
small cliff face that was the end of Arkham City’s border and the cliff that
housed Dunwich, over a few meters of raging Miskatonic River.
I could make out a number of shacks on the other side of
the support, and beyond that was a den of caustic psychic energy.
While the whole town had an uncomfortable feel to it,
even from the other side of the bridge, the toxic energy I was feeling was
something else.
I suddenly felt that I was looking even less forward to
the encounter than before.
With a huff, I shoved the feeling down and focused on
the other reason I’d pulled off.
“They have a spotter. They might already know we’re
here, but I’ve probably got better range. Screaming wood would’ve thrown that
away,” I whispered.
Nodding, he slid several extra magazines into his
pockets before closing his own door.
“We go in quietly, and try to get as little attention as
possible until we’re on her. Got it?”
“Not my first infiltration,” he retorted with a smirk. “It
doesn’t usually go smoothly. How do we get inside, without being seen from a
mile away?”
Pressing against the rocks, I let my senses expand just
a bit more.
The mystery watcher’s aura was like calm water, seeming
utterly placid.
The idea of someone feeling me coming and still being
that calm was a terrifying prospect.
I drew the air in even more, drawing in every nuance of
his energy.
“He’ll see us on the bridge. And the bridge is the only
way across, unless you’re an aquakinetic?” I added hopefully.
“’fraid not,” he sighed. “You seem to be pretty good
with ice. Can you work something?”
Risking a glance around the corner, I managed to
physically spot the man.
“If he’s a magician of any talent, he’ll see us comin’
the second I do. Not that I actually could, goin’ back to tha’ whole issue with
the horror beneath the water.”
Sighing, I slipped back beneath the rock and let my mind
go to work.
Soon, I felt myself swaying as a hum left my throat, but
I ignored it and steadfastly kept my eyes closed as I concentrated more.
The world faded around me, leaving vague impressions of
my surroundings.
The watcher’s and Collin’s auras both worked through me
as my defenses dimmed, and I began sifting, as unobtrusively as possible,
through the watcher’s soul.
When something stabbed at my mind, I jerked to full
wakefulness again and turned.
Sure enough, he was staring at the bridge now, though he
was still almost at our destination.
He seemed more curious than cautious, but I didn’t
really want to run the risk of touching his mind again, in case he was really
paying attention now.
“Stow the gun.
I’ve got an idea, an’ it’ll work better if we don’t look threatenin’.”
Nodding, he quickly stuffed it into his jacket, keeping
it readily available if whatever plan I had went south.
Honestly, it was smart of him to consider the
possibility that I screwed up.
“Et abscondite nos
tibi vestimentum tuum, et in prima nocte, Nyx, dea noctis, quoniam in solutione
tributi mea!” I intoned.
Collin winced when I brought my knife out and dragged a
thin scarlet line across my palm.
Instantly, the air cooled around us, and a thin tendril
of darkness lapped at the skin until my completely unmarred palm was left.
As soon as the blood was taken, I felt the night’s
darkness pressing down on me like a physical weight.
Collin’s shoulders hunched with the same weight.
With a snap of my fingers, the weight vanished.
In its place, a distinct black haze lifted in a vague
and blurred haze around our bodies.
“Thought you said no magic?”
“Dag… that thin’ down under the water has a thing fer
eatin’ Faeries. This is just to shift our scent until we get over the bridge.
Hopefully it obscures us a bit from the watcher, too, but it’s not gonna’ last
long with such a small tribute.”
He paled at that, though he also seemed interested in
how I knew something that specific about it.
“We live, I’ll sit down fer a pint and share a story er
two,” I promised. “Let’s get goin’.”
I gave him a nod and we headed for the bridge.
I felt him getting tenser with every bit of rock that vanished
between us and whoever we were going against.
“We’re going in there. Act daft, if ya’ can. If we can’t
fool the watcher and get our way inside, I’ll think of somethin’ else. I’m
proud of bein’ pretty quick on my feet.”
“I like bold plans. As long as they don’t get me
killed,” he added quickly.
“It’s my specialty.”
And then, we cleared the cover, and reached the bridge
at a brisk but seemingly unhurried pace.
It took me about twenty seconds once we were on the
bridge to spot the house.
I kept looking at it as we made the rest of the way,
partly to make sure the watcher had really lost interest as he seemed to have,
and partly to keep my mind from the hungry monster that could be under my very
feet.
The building wasn’t all that impressive, and I doubted
that would change by being closer to it.
For the area, though, it was like a flashing neon sign.
Unlike the shacks and thoroughly age-beaten colonials,
our destination was two stories.
Instead of having a dull, faded grey color and being
broken to within an inch of its existence, it was painted as black as Collin’s
club.
When we reached the other side of the divide, the
impression became even more depressing.
The biting scent of blood permeated the air, flowing
with the wind from the house.
As the smell hit me, so did the serrated thrum of black
magic.
“Stealth might not be an option at al, if this is just
the falloff of whatever psychics are in there. Somethin’ nasty’s waitin’ fer
us.”
“Stinks like demon,” he agreed easily, seeming
completely unfazed by the disgusting waves rolling against us.
To be as far from the building as we were and still feel
it as strongly as I was, it seemed more of a fortress than a house.
Really selling the impression, it was built flat against
the rocky wall on the other side of the plateau.
Getting in was definitely not going to be easy, which,
while not unexpected, was still irritating.
“You’re not playin’ with an amateur,” I groaned. “Tha’
militia theory might not be as far off as I was hopin’.”
It was at that exact moment that the shadows dissipated.
“Remember, act daft.”
I pressed on toward the watcher, who now fully noticed
us.
I acted as though I were looking for something, turning
my head every which way and trying to exude lost tourist, rather than dangerous
faery witch.
Collin’s whole posture shifted, his confidence vanishing
until he seemed to be much smaller.
His aura also pulled even closer to himself, until it
was nearly unnoticeable.
On the other hand, I got a very distinct feel of the
watcher’s energy, that close.
He exuded a repulsing, death-tinged magic, though even
his grotesqueness was washed out with the house’s presence.
“Hey,” he growled in a deep timbre.
As I came up to him, I took in what he really looked
like.
His appearance matched the aura, as he looked like the
living incarnation of the word “thug.”
It was really quite impressive, how he was holding a
machete about half the size of his arm, in plain view for all the world to see,
and seemed oblivious to it.
Not that Dunwich was the kind of place that some
do-gooder would call the police seeing it, and even if they did, the guy looked
confident enough with the blade that they’d probably turn right around.
He took us both in with narrowed eyes and a vicious
sneer.
“What’re you two doin’ here?”
Translation Notes
"Et abscondite nos tibi vestimentum tuum, et in prima nocte, Nyx, dea noctis, quoniam in solutione tributi mea
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