[Twi]Chronicles of the Impaler: Crisis of Infinite Draculas OOC

[darkblade]

Right, I tried to update the space game but I'm lost. Where are my characters?

Also as for this game I have two ideas.

1) Use some weird Kamen Rider silliness to explain how the King really did survive the explosion and return him to the game.

2)

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NOS-4-A2, the energy vampire of Buzz Lightyear of Star Command

[Colesign]

Yes! The Monkey Awakened to Emptiness, The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and the Protector of the Celestial Horses, with his 42,000 Li jumping technique and his 'As You Wish' Golden Cudgel!

孙悟空，你是“起天大圣！”

Anyways, Darkblade, you have permission to do either, though I'd be interested in seeing how the rest of the Cast reacts to a Robo-Dracula!

[Cracklord]

The SPD are with Kirk and Picard. Cowboy Bebop are fighting Reavers. Gene has caught their ship, and is about to make a jump.

[Colesign]

I just realized something about your aborted Fic', Cracklord:

You sent me some samples of your various chapters...presumably more than what what you sent me for 'workshopping' got erased during that aforementioned computer 'blarg' problem, but all the same, would you like me to send back to you anything that you emailed?

...Of course, depending on your email provider, those specific documents may just be stored online anyway. Hmmm.

I brought this up because I'd just reread the part with Abarnath and Jean Claude: brilliant stuff.

[Cracklord]

I'll take a look. I've lost all my stuff on Faith, the next couple of Dresden chapters, my Ash chapter and a few others. But it might be fun to write some more, and the holidays are coming.

[Colesign]

Sounds cool.

I'm trying to tackle NaNoWriMo. I already wrote 13,500 or so words of the story before november started, so that translates to 3 1/2 pages a day for me to hit 50,000.

Wish me luck on that.

And I would like to see the Faith sections, if only for the interactions with the Winchesters and Blake: I tried portraying some of her interactions with our favorite Furry Fan U.S. Marshal, but I'm not sure I did them justice: Anita's had a really rough time of it, and Faith's getting pwned by a Muppet.

[Cracklord]

John Taylor, part II

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It’s amazing how fast your mind works when confronted like something this. Or maybe it just feels that way. Either way, I found myself suddenly in a position to understand, and I didn’t like what I saw.
So this is what the Stranger wanted. To show me, in his usual cryptic, roundabout way, that I hadn’t prevented the inevitable, only delayed it. No doubt the other worlds I passed through likewise served some purpose I wasn’t in a position to appreciate yet, other then the obvious, that most of the universe is a pretty crummy place to live. Then again, if landing me in front of Darkseid was his idea of help, I think I preferred it when he kept out of my way.
“Likewise.” I replied, tucking my hands into my pockets into the pockets of my coat so he couldn’t see that I was shaking. Always project an image of control, even if that’s all it was. Let them see you as weak, and bad things happened. “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t going to be anything other then myself, and certainly wasn’t going to start pleading, begging or sucking up. And if he didn’t like it, well bugger him.
Apparently he didn’t care, because he didn’t take offense and kill me horrifically. He simply dragged Etrigen back to squat at his feet, the demons clawed hands wrapped around the chain trying to create slack, and his eyes smolder a moment. “Apokolips was no more when the fifth world came to be. I took what was left of earth and made it my own. Now I am a god among insects here. They’ve learned to fear me, and they worship me in my way. It is enough, to exist in a silent, empty universe, above everything. I am content.” He steps forward, towering above me, and his red eyes glowed. “It would be so easy to kill you. And Etrigan would make it particularly brutal. But I think I would prefer to give you a chance to be useful. I will let you leave here, if you will render a service for me.”
“Don’t take outside contracts anymore.” I said. My hand itched for the instrumentalities, but if I went for them he’d know, and I wouldn’t be fast enough. Fighting something like Darkseid can be done, but it requires a tremendous amount of luck, preparation, and the right resources. I had none of those things. He’d grind me into the ground. I only hoped he didn’t know it. “My shamus for hire act is in the past. Not going to make an exception.” Especially for him.
“All things pass, but one. Darkseid Was. And so - Darkseid Is. Can John Taylor say the same?”
“That depends.” I replied carefully, realizing he was threatening me, and drawing my attention to this world, and not wanting to say the wrong thing. I then started back as Etrigan spoke again.

“For man was given to rule this world
And got of it such little joy.
But we who remain enjoy this world
This wide empty world a toy.”

Darkseid jerked his chain violently, and the demon’s maniacal rolling laughter was cut off with a choked rattle, then he looked at Taylor again. “I can send you back to your time. And I can tell you how to avert this. But there is a price.”
“And what might that be?”
“The Anti-Life Equation.” He jerked the chain again absent-mindedly. “I thought I found it. But it was made by mortal hands, and thus flawed. A portion, not the complete thing. I want the rest. And you have such a talent for finding things.”
“No…” I sighed. “You don’t need to tell me anything. I did this. I did this all. Eighty years ago.”
“You were a part. Though it was no matter of a simple catalyst.” He replies, his tone as cold and emotionless as always. “But you’re not asking the right question.”
I lowered my eyes a little. Darkseid was a god, a real one, not a shadow or memory created by worship, he was an actual universal embodiment. And Gods cannot resist a little ‘riddle-me-this’. Even one like him. Not my usual way of squeezing contacts for answers, but I doubted I’d have much luck with the demon, and there was nobody else to ask. “And what would that be?”
Those burning eyes gleamed, and he almost seemed to smile a moment, making the hairs at the end of my back stand on end. “Why did you would do this?”
“I’m not such a nice guy myself, you know.” I spat back at him, referring to the darkness in me, but he only shook his head gently, and lowered his grip on Etrigen, who scrambled forward to try and get in reach and claw me. Then he stopped and settled on his haunches, watching me balefully, smoke curving up from his nostrils in gentle corkscrews.
I really hoped Darkseid didn’t sic him on me. He wouldn't leave enough to bury.
“So I did it by accident then? Somehow I doubt anyone could be this careless.” I snarled. “Or…” The fifth world was destroyed. He’d said as much. Something bad had happened in the universe. Something so bad, I’d done this. “What happened?”

“You stand on empty, blighted land
For you wasted the world in vain.
What spirit with whom you blindly band
Hath blessed destruction with his hand;
Yet while for now at least the stars shall stand
Until the world is wasted again”

I felt like asking him if Jason Blood’s real torture was having to listen to the demon compose those damn verses, but I decided I’d leave that for my companions who didn’t have a reputation to maintain, or at least for a time when I wasn’t in quite so much mortal danger.
Instead I lifted my hands. “So now what?”
Darkseid simply dragged Etrigan back. “You are the only human left. The equation is somewhere in your head, but it is beyond my reach. Find it, give it to me, and I will give you the answers you need.”
“I’m not telling you how to dominate the universe.” I replied carefully, raising my hands.
“Then if you won't be my knight, you will be my pawn”

I'm going to write a trilogy on all of them, in order to establish what's happening with the Last Order, and to set up the next epic. So the next one will be John Taylor's epic escape.

[industrious]

Nice.

I have some ideas myself, and the Post-Apocalypse Game will be a sequel to the Cyberpunk Game.

But since the next epic must, by necessity, be between the Dark Tower and Cyberpunk, so it'll all be good.

[Cracklord]

Well, from Nightside when is as subjective as where, given it connects to all places and all times, but the next epic is still in the planning stages, so who can say?

I've been working on the 52. We know there is a universe of superheroics (shatterworld) where the laws of reality are written in such a way that anyone can and will return to life, super villains always escape, and so on, where every superhero inhabits. It's a world designed to encourage you to be either good or bad, and with little ambiguity.
Speaking of which, I have a side-game for the end of Shatterworld about written up, if anyone wants to be involved.

Then there is another world of pure Espionage, where every spy movie, crime movie, and over-the-top action movie, parodied or otherwise, exists simultansously, and the universal laws encourage it. It’s a world where if you walk away from an explosion in slow motion you'll be unharmed, everyone is always involved in a mystery that is tied up in dames and blood, and anyone who shows up in a tuxedo is automatically allowed into the party.
If you sit down at a diner, there is a very real chance of being handed a briefcase containing sensitive documents and find yourself involved in a car chase and being shot at. There is a detective agency on every street corner, every crime is an ocean’s eleven style heist, and so on.

Then there is a world that works according to horror. Psychological terror, gorefests, slashers, cosmic horror, and shlock (yes, there are giant sharks that can walk on their fins and jump into the air to eat planes). Anyone who leaves civilization will likely encounter something terrible trying to stalk them in order to kill them. The black dude always dies first, the Mexican never survives, and having premarital sex is the fasted way to get targeted around.

There is the world of pure fantasy, high and low, that our current game inhabits, and so on and so on, one for every major archetypal setting.

Then there are the reflection worlds, worlds that mirror the 52 but don't quite encompass it. A world with only one superhero, for example. Naturally, those are much easier places to live, if less exciting. And they are much further from the tower.

[industrious]

You know, I keep trying to find decent art of John Taylor, and never find much of it. But I'm going to put the good, non-US/UK cover ones here now.

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Also, the Speaking Gun:

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[Cracklord]

An automatic? Blasphemy. I always saw it as a more old fashioned dueling pistol (admitedly carved from flesh and bone and flayed nerves).
As for Taylor himself, I always picture him as Rick from Cassablanca or Philip Marlowe with a few extra bits.

[industrious]

I approve, Cracklord.

And I'm right now trying to make Taylor in the Dresden Files RPG. It's more difficult than it sounds, and I really don't know if I'm doing it right.

Colesign, care to spot all the terrible mistakes I'm making?

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Name: John Taylor
High Concept: Gifted Private Eye
Trouble: Mother Dearest is an Outer God

Other Aspects:

• The Angel War was Not My Fault
• I have a Reputation to Maintain
• Walker's Pocket Watch
• Knight of the Dark Tower
• Going to be a Father!

Stress And Consequences:

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Stress:

• Physical: 3 boxes
• Mental: 4 boxes
• Social: 3 boxes

Consequences:

• Minor: 1, +2 mental
• Major: 1
• Severe: 1

Skills

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Average:

• Fists
• Rapport
• Scholarship
• Deceit
• Empathy
• Athletics

Fair:

• Endurance
• Resources
• Alertness
• Presence

Good:

• Contacts
• Investigation
• Intimidation

Great:

• Conviction
• Lore

Superb:

• Discipline

Mortal Stunts and Powers:

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Mortal Stunts:

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Paranoid? Probably -1
Ear to the Ground -1
I know just the Guy -1
Supreme Concentration -1
Resilient Self-Image
Rule with Fear -1

Total of -6

Powers:

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Psychometry -1
The Sight/Soulgaze -1
Mythic Recovery -6

• Catch(Silver) +2

Walker's Pocket Watch: Item of Power +1

• Swift Transition -2
• Worldwalker -2

Sponsored Magic(Nightside) -4

• Channeling(Spirit)
• Ritual(Finding Things)
• +2 Power Bonus to Spirit
• +1 Power Bonus to Felixamancy, +1 Control Bonus to Felixamancy (luck/probability magic)
• Intellectus

Focus Items and Enchanted Items

• White Trenchcoat: +1 Control to Spirit Evocations and +1 Power to "Finding Things" Thaumaturgy (2 FI slots)
• Chaos Dice: Weapon: 4(Entropy), 2 uses/session (2 EI Slots)
• Chaos Dice: Persistent Fair Spirit Block vs. Physical and Mental Attacks

Total of -19 refresh shift
Start with 20 refresh

[Colesign]

It seems to make sense: Skill are good, Powers are consistent...of course, you are wayyyyyyyyyy over the standard Dresden Files Refresh limit between 'man' and 'monster': but that's not too problematic: the Rpg book did that sort of thing for powerful NPCs too.

The Side game does sound interesting, Cracklord, but I want to finish this game up and take a breather before pursuing new games and such.

[Cracklord]

I'm running two games at the moment, that's quite enough. Once we move on to Highschool and get this Dracula crisis over and done with.

[industrious]

It seems to make sense: Skill are good, Powers are consistent...of course, you are wayyyyyyyyyy over the standard Dresden Files Refresh limit between 'man' and 'monster': but that's not too problematic: the Rpg book did that sort of thing for powerful NPCs too.

The Side game does sound interesting, Cracklord, but I want to finish this game up and take a breather before pursuing new games and such.

Well, he's up there with the Gatekeeper and the like, so it makes sense on my end. I mean, Dresden himself is a -17 or so by Small Favor (which makes me wonder what he is now).

[doliest]

Loving the Dracula game; Dracula reminds me how fun it is to get back to a villain who knows how to have fun. And by 'knows how to have fun' I mean 'gets utterly jacked up by my stupid plans.' God, its been too long since I accidentally screwed one of my characters.

And I can't really comment; I don't own the Dresden Files RPG. Planning on buying as soon as I have, you know, money. Though only if I can FIND it.

Few tests this week, which means I can post more; virtually no homework and my studying doesn't eat up as much time as it should.

[industrious]

I might start one on the forum. Eventually. When I don't have enormous tests myself.

Maybe over the summer.

[Colesign]

Ha! Glad to see a sea of approval from you Doliest.

I'm hoping to draw a few plot threads back together soon. Van Helsing and D Dracula onboard the "Transylvania Express", The Battle Royale of Alucard, Seras, The Count, and Dracula, and Vlad the Impaler, leading a ragtag band of Freedom Fighters to Take out the Death Star...I mean the Sultan!

Next turn, I'll have the floating fragment of Chapelvania appear right on top of the Battle Royale area. And then a very old yet familiar face will be making an appearance...

[Colesign]

Interesting Fun Fact:

The armies of the many Draculas that Alucard wound up slaughtering way back when? They were actually supposed to be allies!


There wer a group of Draculas who had banded together to escape the armies and various Vampire Hunters, forming feral, primitive tribes in the forests of Wallachia. They were meant to both showcase the offensive power of Chapelvania and the "God's Madmen" Army, and valuable fighters to be won over by participating in their mystical tribal rites of manhood and or by ganking their leaders.

But, you know: Alucard.

[doliest]

We're some of the most overpowered vampires this side of freaking Caine and the Antediluvians. I don't think we needed them.
.
..
If you include a crossover with Vampire, I will either worship you, or plot your downfall. Maybe both. Just a warning.

[Cracklord]

That is interesting. Really, I'm surprised he's still alive, I'm doing all I can to alienate everyone in sight. And looking damn fine while I do it, I might add.

[doliest]

Two(Three) stay Dracula's hand

First is his lack of assured power. He hasn't actually even attempted his 'true power' form successfully without Castlevania. He knows his power is limited here and desires to return to it. Every enemy Alucard takes out is one he doesn't have to. Not to mention, he doesn't know he could take Alucard.

Second is ego. Dracula firmly considers himself the greatest thing ever. Alucard is Dracula, ergo, while not as awesome as Dracula, he is more worthy of respect than most creatures.

(Third? Intense fear of you. )

[Cracklord]

A fight between them would level cities, however.

[doliest]

Yes. And be awesome. I couldn't begin to guess who wins, though in these circumstances, I'd wager money on Alucard.

With Castlevania, I'd wager Dracula, if only because of the ability to summon an army of Demons and Undead led by Death itself.

[Cracklord]

Whoever wins, we lose.

More honestly, whoever loses, wins, in Alucard's case.

[doliest]

Correction. There is one way for Dracula to win where Alucard loses.

The Crimson Stone. It allows Dracula to absorb the souls of other Vampires to gain their power. Though, I wouldn't bring it up for two reasons;

Out of Character: That is a d*** way to resolve a combat between PCs.

In-Character: Dracula, if any other option is possible, would avoid it for practical and, funnily, moral reasons. It's one thing to do it to an evil vampire lord; another to do it to a version of himself.

Edit:Completely minor point, but Dracula, when he was Mathias? Was voiced by Alucard's voice actor. I can't unhear it now, Cracklord. These two are arguing in the same voice.

[Cracklord]

Well, ****.

[Colesign]

I personally was hoping to saving Alucard's death for the Dragon.

Speaking of which, can you post for D Dracula, Cracklord? Unless you've already done so. Let me go and check.

[Cracklord]

Ramirez. Next will deal with him summoning his first full-time demonic servant (Bartimaeus, of course), his first confrontation with Molly Carpenter, and his moving into Nightside permanently.

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He'd been working with the League because the White Council needed all the help it could get if it was to remain relevant. The Day Watch had essentially destroyed it, taken out the leadership, and made it look easy too. If they didn't stabilize quickly, they might as well give up, and become a club for old men to rub shoulders, and talk about the old days rather then a decisive force for good. And so, he'd done his best to tie himself to the new age, and hoped that they could become a represented minority, like the mutants.
Course, the mutants had numerous advantages in that direction that wizards were finding out. At the very least, they had a very charismatic, universally respected leader. Wizards on the other hand were a fractious bunch, it was amazing enough as it was that they could even make as much progress as they did and agree to form the council, let alone what it meant now. It was a battle uphill to keep them going at all.
That and he was also the only member of the Order of the Dark Tower left on this world. It was a hard group to be a part of, though he got the impression sometimes he was only keeping the seat warm for whoever was going to replace him. But at the moment, his membership meant his job was to keep an eye out for multiversal threats. On top of his duties in regards to what was left of the council, and to The League. Yes, he was even more overworked then he’d ever been before.
So that was why he found himself in Gotham, looking up at the top of the bank where an old man in robes was making dramatic, flamboyant and over the top gestures and yelling at the top of his voice, filling in every cliché in the book all on his own. Gotham had no shortage of maniacs, but this was something else. Somebody had to do something. The answer was obvious.
He was Ramirez, easily at hand. And he was a wizard, and Batman was busy, so it was Ramirez's job to deal with him, because of his 'experience' at these matters. Experience. Right. Two months ago, physics had explicitly worked differently, and nobody wore costumes. Now it had always been that way, and he was ‘experienced’.
The wizard he had come to deal with could have been pulled from any children's picture book ever written. He certainly fitted the bill of a second-rater. A sure sign of this was that he had all the time-honored attributes of every stereotypical wizard, a mane of unkept hair the color of tobacco ash and a beard that jutted out like the prow of a ship, and a pair of particularly bristly eyebrows. His nose was long and broken, his eyes a watery pale blue, and he was stooped and hunched. He even had a staff that he was flourishing proudly like a conductors baton as he ranted and raved and occasionally sent a torrent of sparks up into the air.
Right now he was laughing maniacally. "I shall call upon the eldritch forces forgotten by all, and use them to blanket this city in eternal night. The sun shall never rise again over Gotham, law and order shall break down, and the city shall devolve into chaos as the forces of Old Night conquer it for their own!" He yelled, from within a pentagram that looked more like a giant chaos-theory propeller, drawn in chalk.
"Why's he telling us all this?" Ramirez asked Zantanna, who had accompanied him, given he was still largely a non-entity and was being given on the job training. Essentially, he’d go in and try to sort things out. If he didn’t pull it off, she’d be his safety net. It was an uphill battle, but he wasn't trying to stare down at her top or looking at her legs. Or at least, making sure he wasn't caught. "I mean, we'll know when he's done, won't we?"
"Kraklow's old school." She replied, shrugging. "Now go up there and shut him up. I'll be here as back-up."
Ramirez blinked. "So you're tossing me in solo?"
"That a problem?"
"Not to Ramirez." He declared, trying to sound as confident as the more experienced heroes sounded and not quite pulling it off. Still, having her as support wasn't exactly a problem. You could do a lot worse.
He climbed up the fire escape, to find the wizard still yelling up the top. He removed his gun. The League frowned, but didn't actually forbid (at least expressly) and he preferred it to always falling back on magic. Better gun and lateral thinking then being reduced to a single gimmick, at least as far as he was concerned. Too many people relied on their single talent, and were no use at all out of their element.
"Yeah, gonna have to stop you there, gramps." he said, pointing it squarely at him, taking aim with both hands. It was a big, big gun.
Kraklow, now styling himself 'The Midnight Magician', turned slowly, narrowing his eyes. "And who the inferno are you supposed to be?" He asks, his voice becoming peeved.
"I'm a warden. And you're being difficult. That's a shooting offense." Ramirez said. “Now step down, and we’ll try a reduced sentence. Come on, make it easy on both of us.”
"A warden?" He chortled. "Stars and Stones, don't make me laugh." He said. "A warden with a gun. What's the world coming to? We didn't need any of that sort of thing in my day. We used the gifts we were given, not questionable scientific gadgetry. And that was the way we liked it!"
"Yeah, well, things change." Ramirz said, double-checking his aim and hoping he wouldn’t have to fire.
"Not so much as you seem to think. Hexus!" He made a largely superfluous gesture, and the gun just fell apart, as all it's components violently pushed away from each other.
Ramirez blinked, surprised. That was pretty good, actually. Perhaps he could pull the look off afterall.
"I have a question. What's the point of all this?" Ramirez pointed out, trying to regain the upper hand. "Seems sort of pointless. I mean, eternal night’s not really possible, no matter how much power you have. And even if you did, how does making it night forever benefit you? Or are you just generally evil?" Ramirez asked. Eternal night. Now that would be a hell of a ritual. He almost wished Kraklow wasn't blatantly crazy, anyone with the brilliance to figure out how to do that was just the sort of man the wizards would need if they were going to carve out a place in this world.
"I'm three hundred years old." Kraklow said. "Show some respect to your elders. I'll have you know that I have the imagination to make eternal night work for me. And it’s a simple matter. All I need is to change the location of the poles, and the axis the earth rotates on.”
Ramirez nearly laughed at that. "I’ll admit, it’s theoretically possible. But it’s still not a good idea. Now, step down. Your just confused, or possibly senile, and you don’t want to do what you’re trying to do."
“Senile? Me? Watch what you say. Back in my day, we didn't have these fancy focii and other what-have-you to do our magic. We just had good old fashioned mongrel and applied will." He rambles, waving his arms in the air to illustrate the point. "You damn kids these days don't have a clue what wizarding is all about. Now I might never have been on your council. But I do know that proper wizards wear robes and have pointy fucking hats, and you damn kids today with your 'techno-magic' and your 'voodoo' babble and all the rest of it don’t know how to properly summon a cacodaemon worth a good goddamn."
"Yeah?" Ramirez said, having moved into place while the old man continued his ponderous, though admittedly justified, rant. "Well what happens if I do this?" he smudged the ritual circle with the heel of his boot.
"NOOOOO! You fool!" Kraklow said, horrified. "I am undone! Now I must wait a hundred years before trying again!” He snarled, and met Ramirez’s gaze. “This is not over." With that he called thunder, and vanished in a puff of smoke. Ramirez looked around, but there was no sign of him at all. Well, he had no clue what to make of that one. In the end he tossed a bucket of water over the elaborate circle, then stepped back to the street, where his watcher was levitating.
"Congratulations, Ramirez." Zantanna said, after he explained it to her, after laughing. He supposed he could see the funny side himself, though it all felt slightly unreal. "You just got a nemesis."
"Huh." Ramirez said, privately hoping that was not the case. So he'd turned out to be a pretty good wizard, Kraklow was still far less exciting then he felt he deserved. Having to deal with his attempts at revenge every month would quickly become a tedious chore. It occurred to him that anyone who saw a crazed wizard trying to kill him as a chore was probably taking nowhere near enough care, but he decided he didn’t care.
"Did I get the girl?" He said, doing his best to flirt.
"I'll let you know if I see her." She replied lightly, then walked away.

John Taylor. Not my best work, but it had to be written. As Michael took the next step and became ready to protect the universe, so must John Taylor. They are different people, and so the place they turn to is very different. And yes, all the Order will do something to this effect.

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I faced him squarely, my hands empty, wishing I had something resembling an ace in the hole to make the contest a little more even. Even if I used my gift it wouldn’t do much good, given that even if I did know his weakness, he’s still a god and I’m an aging British shamus who works out with his pregnant fiancé twice a week and does a lot of walking. And even if I did somehow kill him, and got away from Etrigan, I’d still be in exactly the same situation. The odds were beyond stacked against me, you have to know when to fold them. Discretion was the better part of valour.
Over-used gambling metaphors aside, that was much easier said then done.
“Well, I’d tell you to go to hell, Darkseid, but as far as I can see, that would be pretty much redundant.” I all but spat. Defiance is a wonderful thing, it can make you feel alive even at the onset of bowel-knotting terror. “Enjoy being a king without subjects, the closest you’ll ever get to ruling the world.”
That got me the reaction I was hoping for. Let me give you a piece of advice, if you are ever in a position where you are completely in somebody else’s power, and that somebody has reason to deal with you in a permanent fashion, you’d better hope it’s a bad man. Because he’ll want you to squirm, to know you’re in his power. A good man will either try to redeem you, but only if he’s really, really good, or just kill you and get on with things. And if you’re smart, you can play that to your favour.
Every moment counts. So if a bad man does have you in a position where he can end you in any moment, your best bet is to provoke them. If you don’t, they’re just as likely to want to get on with things, and you’ll only live if they have a reason to keep you that way. Which, unfortunately, he does. Darkseid has black magic, science, and all sorts of ways to get into your head. If he got me in his power I’m sure he could make me do anything he wanted. I didn’t want him to think about that. I didn’t want him to think about how useful I could be. I wanted him mad. A God of tyranny? Too easy.
For a moment his eyes flared, and I worried I’d overplayed my hand, then he stepped forward and let go of the chain, releasing Etrigan, and I almost sighed in relief. I didn’t, because the situation was only slightly better, but I take the hand I’m dealt. The demon crossed the distance in two bounds, then leapt at me, claws extended, fanged mouth wide and slavering, eyes alight with malevolence. It probably hadn’t eaten in years, it’s minds probably breaking under the strain.
But a few seconds is a long time if you’ve got your answer worked out. It gave me seconds to act. I grabbed a handful of salt from my pocket and flung it in into the demon’s wide face, then threw myself aside, grateful that Suzie was forcing me to work out again.
Salt’s an attack so simple that most defences don’t even consider it. It’s also a way of making an instant threshold when dealing with extra-dimensional beasties, and it rusts complex machinery, like nobodies business. Plus, it hurts when it gets in your eyes. Unfortunately, Etrigan didn’t even notice. The Demon regularly shrugged off heavy arms fire, condiments were beneath it’s notice. It’s talon ripped into the meat of my back like a knife through wet paper, and I felt a terrible coldness. Nevermind, all part of the plan.
I lept to my feet and began running, the demon in close pursuit. It was faster then me, but not all that agile, so I ducked and weaved and got cut up some more, and incidentally got the hell away from Darkseid, who seemed content to watch. It was a fine line I had to walk. If I made it seem to easy, he’d call back his demon and sort it out himself. If the demon actually started to win (a not entirely unlikely proposition, let me tell you) he’d come get me and start putting me to work.
Finally, I judged us far enough away, and threw down a handful of chaos dice, their random magical effects all bursting out at once in an explosion of brightly colored lights, smoke, bangs and whistles, even a geyser of steam below us, that burned my skin unpleasantly, but hid us both from view. Just what I needed.
The demon laughed, and a torrent of Hellfire streamed out, missing me by inches, the demons glowing red eyes appearing in the confusion. It could still see me. And I could see it through the eyes of my gift. I knew what bound it to the world, now. And I knew how to take it away.
“Begone, begone, O Etrigan!” I said, the words tripping over each other in their haste to get out. “Arise once more the form of man!”
He shrieked in frustration and collapsed, curling in to himself and shaking all over, before a tall, thin man with red hair emerged where the squat demon had stood a moment before. Small victories. That’s all we can count on.
He remained crouched, shaking in pain, eyes tightly closed, and it occurred to me there’s probably a reason why he stopped being human altogether. The insects wouldn’t lay eggs in a demon, but a living man is open season.
If I had time, I’d kill him, but I didn’t. He’d have to endure.
I fumbled in my pocket for the instrumentalities, arranging them quickly and at random, trying to force them to slot together through sheer force of will. They could take me anywhere. There were places far worse then this. But if I didn’t get away, it was all redundant anyway.
“Well played.” Came Darkseid’s booming voice from behind me, and I started to turn, but I was too slow. Much too slow. A fist like a wrecking ball caught me in the midsection, lifting me off my feet and sending me flying across the road to impact against the wall like rotten fruit. I nearly splattered. My insides certainly felt like it. “But it will do you no good.”And everything seemed to be going so well…
I smashed into the wall of what had once been an apartment complex, the doorway behind me ajar. The entire building seemed to shake, though I knew that it wasn’t. It was just me, my entire body reduced to something only barely functional.
He made his way slowly over towards me as I tried to get my bearings and figure out what to do next. Everything seemed to have sped up, if he wasn’t taking his time he’d have killed me before I’d even realized he was moving. Then again, it was to be expected. Darkseid never ran anywhere, that was for lesser mortals. I tossed a salamander egg at him. He didn’t even seem to notice. He didn’t even lose a step.
I was just lucky he still wanted me alive, or that, ladies and gentleman, would be the end of our hero. Fortunately, he still wnated what was in my head. So I did the only thing I had left. I crawled towards the doorway. He didn’t try to stop me. Because he didn’t know what I was doing. But I had a way out. You see, getting into Nightside is easy. All you need is a door, any door you can find, and the belief that the door will lead to Nightside. And as long as you keep that fixed in your mind, it will.
Getting to Nightside is easy. Getting out is another matter entirely, and surviving once you are there… well that’s the trick, isn’t it?
I crawled through the door and landed face down in the alley, kicking the door closed, and hoping he wouldn’t follow. After a minute, I let myself relax and breathe again.
Some small time imps were here on holiday. I gave them my most fearsome scowl, and narrowed my eyes. “Werewolf blood. Now.”
And what do you know, they went and did as I said. John Taylor’s a name to be feared.
I closed my eyes and let myself fall unconscious. Nobody would try anything. They knew me here, knew who I stood for and who I worked with, and I was not a man to be messed with.
Later, I was in my apartment with Suzie, who was cooking. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything so feminine, but I got a pass thanks to internal bleeding and thirty stitches. Neither of us were talking, but we needed to, once I was done thinking. I finally had an idea what I was being shown. And I didn’t like it.
“We’re in something big. It’s taken me a while, but it’s beginning to dawn on me just how big. It killed Hadleigh Oblivion, and he understood more about all this then me. It’s destroyed worlds already, and I don’t think it’s going to stop. I joined the Order, because someone’s got to do something about it. But as I am now, it’s more then I can deal with.”
“So what, you want me to teach you how to fight?” She said. She wasn’t joking, she was dealing with things the only way she knew how, promising immediate violence.
“Yes. But first…” I sighed. I thought of what I could learn, and how I could wind up Sigismund, and decided I didn’t have a choice. “I’m going back to school.”

[Colesign]

Daw. Ramirez don't get not respect from nobody