Musica Mundana: Spiritual Engineering

[PhoeKun]

TIMELINE 1

Professor Western looks... daunted. Impressed. His goons are already packing up and getting ready to leave. "Forgive me, I am not used to seeing... decisiveness like that," he said. "I couldn't have... are you really ready for a war? Our hunters are going to begin a campaign of extermination against every monster in the city and there will be blowback on us. Please, let me assign you some security."

"War, huh? Do you really think so? I was expecting more, like, shadowy intrigue and assassins in the night and junk, and probably not even that for at least a week or so while the monster-y side of the city figures out that this isn't just infighting or a one-off or whatever. Eye-dee-kay, man, if I were the type of person to stop and think about how badly everything might go, I doubt I would have met you. Or built Zero. Heck, I'd probably still be Asleep, if you know what I mean. So like..."

Lily's face breaks into another warm smile, and a few rolling chirps of laughter tumble out of her lips.

"You know? You've got a point about security, though. Ooh! Ooh! Can you assign Abby? Getting daily interactions with a hybrid would be suuuper helpful for Zero's development!"



TIMELINE 2

"That's a good theory, Seabreeze. Thank you for your help. You are a beautiful house and I will make sure that you are not a smouldering wreck in the headlines tomorrow." She offers a slight bow, and then turns her attention to Lily, who is also speaking to thin air. An eyebrow is raised. A ghost? Possibly.

She waits until Lily seems at a lull, seems not to be listening intently or studying whatever is going on in front of her, and then points out: "We should probably disable the bomb. This seems more your territory than mine." It would be so easy to spark the explosives- to change potential energy, all bound up tight inside the explosives, into kinetic, pushing everything outwards violently, changing everything around it with a terrible and unshaped strength, and all it would take would be a thought and a push- but disabling them would be something else entirely.

Saturn, master of the philosophers, would be much more suited to dealing with breaking something down, making it not possible, castrating the potentiality and closing the lid on the terrible tale of The Bomb Which Destroyed The Entire Party.

Lily stares seemingly into space, for a moment completely dumbfounded. Her shoulders roll forward, her hand covers her mouth, and she hunches inward, either trying to become a ball or desperately hold in the universe's dorkiest snort. It's not happening. She's on her knees, the snort now a giggle now full blown uncontrollable laughter, the kind that's so genuine and enthusiastic that it lifts your heart to hear it and makes you laugh along, even when the joke is incomprehensible. She throws down horns with her left hand to show the Horseman she understands.

"Ahaha, oh my g-haha... that's... haha... hoo. Wow. I was not expecting that. Okay. Okay! That is so cool! In a thousand, thousand years I would never have expected a Supernal entity to try communicating through pop culture. Hahaha, okay, okay, serious time. This is serious. Seriously."

Lily takes a deep breath, exhales, and gets back onto her feet.

"Compy? Don't take this the wrong way, but I think we should let this place blow up. This isn't what Key was talking about, some rando with a Robin Hood complex bringing low the high and rendering his judgment yadda yadda whatever. All the revolutionary stuff, probably even the location? My invisible dude over here, who I'm calling the Horseman on account of he's a very Death-aligned Supernal creature wearing the most gorgeous crown of flaming jewels you'll ever... not see? Dang it. Whatever, I'll draw you a picture later. Anyway, I can tell you with scientific certainty that the nature of the bomb is from a higher plane of existence, working through the lady who's throwing this party. Who, by the way, is crazy super dangerously suicidal, unless my eyes very much deceived me. I don't think she's the architect behind all this spellwork, because her demeanor and actions make me think she intends to go down with the ship, and this magic is... um, very forward thinking?

Like, I've been trying to figure this out since I first saw these runes, let me tell you, from a practical standpoint, it doesn't make any hecking sense to put a bunch of souls into active tools like this. It can't help you accomplish anything. And I'm a million percent sure the person responsible for this is a Moros, so they know it as well or better than I do. But, like, you know that expression, 'ghost in the machine'? What happens if you make that very nearly literal? What does it mean for a machine to have a soul, the way they're sometimes personified as having? I think answering that question is what this whole thing is about. It's an experiment, Compy. A big, ornate experiment tied up in a pretty bow metaphor for social inequality.

And... I mean, maybe it's because I just built a self aware robot and became friends with another, different Supernal being who pretty much lead me here this afternevening, but I kind of can't help but think that's a question worth answering? And I mean, seriously, if you were going to kill a bunch of people to learn about souls, you would have a difficult time picking a group the world would miss less than these jerks, unless you literally hunted down a prison bus full of child murderers or something. And I don't even know who these people upstairs killed, so I can't even say that with surety. It's like... the pieces all or mostly fit. It's flashy, but in terms of long-term repercussions for the city or the world at large it's also pretty self contained? The only thing I'm not exactly sure about is this Zombie Clause, which I'm sort of considering rewriting because it feels too much like wanting to have your cake and eat it too.

Anyway, what I want to do is put a mark on all of this so the OG caster knows we saw this and let it happen anyway, and keep close tabs on things to hopefully, if not actively become partners to the experiment, at least reap the benefits of it. And then get our varyingly sexy little butts out of here (yours too, Becca) before we wind up just as asploded as everyone else. I assume you were just talking to the spirit of this house a bit ago? Can you tell him I'm sorry for being so callous about all this? It's not that I hate him, this is a beautiful house, or it was on the outside when I could see it in comprehensible terms, thank you very much Ms. Warps Space Into Non-Euclidean Concepts All The Livelong Day, but when he's rebuilt he'll be reborn into something even better than now. Talk of the whole neighborhood for years to come."

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 1

"War, huh? Do you really think so? I was expecting more, like, shadowy intrigue and assassins in the night and junk, and probably not even that for at least a week or so while the monster-y side of the city figures out that this isn't just infighting or a one-off or whatever. Eye-dee-kay, man, if I were the type of person to stop and think about how badly everything might go, I doubt I would have met you. Or built Zero. Heck, I'd probably still be Asleep, if you know what I mean. So like..."

Lily's face breaks into another warm smile, and a few rolling chirps of laughter tumble out of her lips.

"You know? You've got a point about security, though. Ooh! Ooh! Can you assign Abby? Getting daily interactions with a hybrid would be suuuper helpful for Zero's development!"

Western opens his mouth to start discussing the processes and tactics of waging a shadow war against entrenched supernatural monsters and their connections to the Awakened world. Then he closes his mouth. "You're right on every point," he agrees. "I'll worry about the details."

He smiles like a man remembering how to smile for the first time in a long time.


[This scene may be over, so you can either initiate something new, make small talk, or just focus on Timeline 2 as it appeals to you]

TIMELINE 2

Keynes looks suitably pained at the reference to Mr. Yates, his lips turning ever so slightly downward and his hand pulling to adjust his sparkling vest to use up a bit of nervous tension. "To be quite honest, madame, he was entirely a boor. Where on earth did you find him?" Keynes asks, both to continue the conversation and out of a fair bit of actual curiosity.

"Oh don't be too hard on him - in a certain sense this party is in his honour," you wouldn't make anything of that if you didn't know about the basement. "He's some sort of contractor on that new casino they're putting up, very important, very international, he just has his vices and is under a lot of pressure. Who are we to judge?" she laughs airly. "I don't know you, however - who did you come with again?"

Keynes is thinking now about what he can do to rattle this woman. There's almost no hope of getting a good read on her as things are, the difficulty is practically insurmountable without magic he's not willing to touch within sight of Lucifer/Yates over there. Remind me, is there any concern with using Space here, or is it only Fate that's likely to be a problem? If Space is usable, Keynes is going to look for what sorts of sympathy lie on Mrs. Ainsworth. If not, well, he'll try the more old-fashioned method of asking.

Space seems fine. Fate and Spirit are the only things you've seen Yates use for sure.

What are you looking for, specifically, with 'what sort of sympathy'? There's a pretty tangential connection to Mr. Ainsworth over there, pretty tenuous connections with most people at this party really. She knows these people but has a pretty deep emotional distance from them.

I will note, though, that Mrs. Ainsworth isn't fated to die in the coming disaster. That's not at odds with Lily' assessment of her having a death wish - you can see there is a long term fate of self destruction there but she's aiming for something a bit more total than 'merely' blowing up a hundred people.

Anyway, what I want to do is put a mark on all of this so the OG caster knows we saw this and let it happen anyway, and keep close tabs on things to hopefully, if not actively become partners to the experiment, at least reap the benefits of it. And then get our varyingly sexy little butts out of here (yours too, Becca) before we wind up just as asploded as everyone else. I assume you were just talking to the spirit of this house a bit ago? Can you tell him I'm sorry for being so callous about all this? It's not that I hate him, this is a beautiful house, or it was on the outside when I could see it in comprehensible terms, thank you very much Ms. Warps Space Into Non-Euclidean Concepts All The Livelong Day, but when he's rebuilt he'll be reborn into something even better than now. Talk of the whole neighborhood for years to come."

"Euclid was a hack," said Rebecca, swinging away from the arcane glyph she was scrutinizing. She wraps her arm around Lily's shoulder and snuggles up next to her, whispering in her ear, "and Lily, baby doll, I love you and everything, but if you take away my chance to see the dead rise from their graves I am going to..." she pauses, thinks, "I will make you enjoy something that you shouldn't enjoy."

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE 2

"Compy? Don't take this the wrong way, but I think we should let this place blow up. This isn't what Key was talking about, some rando with a Robin Hood complex bringing low the high and rendering his judgment yadda yadda whatever. All the revolutionary stuff, probably even the location? My invisible dude over here, who I'm calling the Horseman on account of he's a very Death-aligned Supernal creature wearing the most gorgeous crown of flaming jewels you'll ever... not see? Dang it. Whatever, I'll draw you a picture later. Anyway, I can tell you with scientific certainty that the nature of the bomb is from a higher plane of existence, working through the lady who's throwing this party. Who, by the way, is crazy super dangerously suicidal, unless my eyes very much deceived me. I don't think she's the architect behind all this spellwork, because her demeanor and actions make me think she intends to go down with the ship, and this magic is... um, very forward thinking?

Like, I've been trying to figure this out since I first saw these runes, let me tell you, from a practical standpoint, it doesn't make any hecking sense to put a bunch of souls into active tools like this. It can't help you accomplish anything. And I'm a million percent sure the person responsible for this is a Moros, so they know it as well or better than I do. But, like, you know that expression, 'ghost in the machine'? What happens if you make that very nearly literal? What does it mean for a machine to have a soul, the way they're sometimes personified as having? I think answering that question is what this whole thing is about. It's an experiment, Compy. A big, ornate experiment tied up in a pretty bow metaphor for social inequality.

And... I mean, maybe it's because I just built a self aware robot and became friends with another, different Supernal being who pretty much lead me here this afternevening, but I kind of can't help but think that's a question worth answering? And I mean, seriously, if you were going to kill a bunch of people to learn about souls, you would have a difficult time picking a group the world would miss less than these jerks, unless you literally hunted down a prison bus full of child murderers or something. And I don't even know who these people upstairs killed, so I can't even say that with surety. It's like... the pieces all or mostly fit. It's flashy, but in terms of long-term repercussions for the city or the world at large it's also pretty self contained? The only thing I'm not exactly sure about is this Zombie Clause, which I'm sort of considering rewriting because it feels too much like wanting to have your cake and eat it too.

Anyway, what I want to do is put a mark on all of this so the OG caster knows we saw this and let it happen anyway, and keep close tabs on things to hopefully, if not actively become partners to the experiment, at least reap the benefits of it. And then get our varyingly sexy little butts out of here (yours too, Becca) before we wind up just as asploded as everyone else. I assume you were just talking to the spirit of this house a bit ago? Can you tell him I'm sorry for being so callous about all this? It's not that I hate him, this is a beautiful house, or it was on the outside when I could see it in comprehensible terms, thank you very much Ms. Warps Space Into Non-Euclidean Concepts All The Livelong Day, but when he's rebuilt he'll be reborn into something even better than now. Talk of the whole neighborhood for years to come."

Deep breath. In, out. Joy written across Lily's face, the same joy that she wishes she could join in. The joy of seeing the explosion consummate its potential, the fire and the roar, a shallow impression of heaven's light. Seeing the force strike each point just so, like a dancer hitting their marks, one and two and turn and push out, support beams crumbling, walls caving in, cracking and heaving and this is the aftermath, a ruined house and cadavers being carried out in ones and twos by police, ambulances, sirens, the city contracting in order to handle the abscess, possible domestic terrorism inquiry, and even if it would be so easy to discount the humanity of everyone upstairs, every vapid and crooked and nasty person upstairs- the question is simple in the end.

"No," she says, simply, looking Lily in the eye. "We're not signing the death warrants of everyone upstairs, through inaction or otherwise, especially not to experiment with their souls. We're better than that, you and me and Keynes. And I suppose you, Rebecca, you're an honorary magician tonight. Because everyone upstairs could Awaken, even if the margin is slim. Or they could cause someone else to Awaken. There is no one up there who is unsalvagable, and I'm not comfortable making the call to end them right now.

"If the Abyss had opened up on top of the grand piano upstairs and infected every single party guest with a word that cannot be understood but must be spoken, then that would be different. But I'm not seeing the world rotting and flaking apart up there, no matter how odious the guests are- I think one is a Seer, even- and we are better than that. Killing other people for personal gain is the sort of thing that the Seers of the Throne do, and I do not want any of us to sink down to their level tonight. Not for science and the expansion of human knowledge.

"We are better than that.

"So let's disarm the bomb, deactivate the runes, and- I don't know, leave a calling card. If the scientist decides he wants to collaborate on his next project. But tonight nobody dies, and we leave here without blood on our hands, and we continue to rack up a reputation for being experiment-crashers but we can handle that as it comes. So what do you say, Lily?"

Delicate, on the edge of a razor, one side human, the other side not. And how can she, Gabriella, how can she claim the moral high ground here? Maybe it's leaking out of her even now, adding to her air of wounded morality: the desperation in her voice, the knowledge that killing someone isn't something that you can shrug off. Ajax's rebuke: we don't kill, not even the Seers. The zoo: pulled back from the height of speculation by Lily, reminding her that sometimes magic isn't worth magic's sake.

Functionally, there is little she can do to stop the bomb. The runes- she could deface the runes easily, make the experiment worthless, make the deaths meaningless- but the bomb is Lily's to change or preserve, and so all Compass can do is ask.

[Anarion]

TIMELINE 1



Western opens his mouth to start discussing the processes and tactics of waging a shadow war against entrenched supernatural monsters and their connections to the Awakened world. Then he closes his mouth. "You're right on every point," he agrees. "I'll worry about the details."

He smiles like a man remembering how to smile for the first time in a long time.


[This scene may be over, so you can either initiate something new, make small talk, or just focus on Timeline 2 as it appeals to you]

While I am thinking along Space lines, can Keynes see any sympathies for Western's security forces? I'm thinking particularly of whether they appear to be connected to his lab here, or whether he has drawn his little army from elsewhere.

TIMELINE 2



"Oh don't be too hard on him - in a certain sense this party is in his honour," you wouldn't make anything of that if you didn't know about the basement. "He's some sort of contractor on that new casino they're putting up, very important, very international, he just has his vices and is under a lot of pressure. Who are we to judge?" she laughs airly. "I don't know you, however - who did you come with again?"

Keynes brushes aside the Seer for a moment. Dangerous to reference any knowledge about the bomb until everyone was finished downstairs. "I arrived with Lily, she was exceptionally kind enough to prepare my outfit as well, which I do find rather striking. She mentioned in passing that you yourself were a seamstress. Wherever did you find the time to acquire such multifaceted skills, madame?"

Space seems fine. Fate and Spirit are the only things you've seen Yates use for sure.

What are you looking for, specifically, with 'what sort of sympathy'? There's a pretty tangential connection to Mr. Ainsworth over there, pretty tenuous connections with most people at this party really. She knows these people but has a pretty deep emotional distance from them.

I will note, though, that Mrs. Ainsworth isn't fated to die in the coming disaster. That's not at odds with Lily' assessment of her having a death wish - you can see there is a long term fate of self destruction there but she's aiming for something a bit more total than 'merely' blowing up a hundred people.

I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for, something to rattle her and throw her off her game a little. Space typically finds oldest sympathies first, so perhaps a connection that's not in this room, something like a childhood home, an old lover, a past business that Keynes ought to have no way of knowing about and that would be quite startling if he were to make some sort of reference to it. Bonus if the sympathy seems to hint at why she has her current death wish, though I won't hold my breath for being that lucky.

[Thanqol]

Keynes brushes aside the Seer for a moment. Dangerous to reference any knowledge about the bomb until everyone was finished downstairs. "I arrived with Lily, she was exceptionally kind enough to prepare my outfit as well, which I do find rather striking. She mentioned in passing that you yourself were a seamstress. Wherever did you find the time to acquire such multifaceted skills, madame?"

"Lily - oh, the gatecrasher," Mrs. Ainsworth puts on an artful expression of exasperation mixed with amusement. "I seem to have attracted an entire posse of fashion auteurs. Believe it or not, I was not always a high society debutant - I grew up in Armadale, a little mountaintop community near Canberra with a mile between houses. One finds things to occupy oneself with in a place like that."

I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for, something to rattle her and throw her off her game a little. Space typically finds oldest sympathies first, so perhaps a connection that's not in this room, something like a childhood home, an old lover, a past business that Keynes ought to have no way of knowing about and that would be quite startling if he were to make some sort of reference to it. Bonus if the sympathy seems to hint at why she has her current death wish, though I won't hold my breath for being that lucky.

So the oldest, strongest connection is the one she just mentioned. That's useful intel because it means she's using her real identity here - it wouldn't be too much work for a rival mage to find out her true name with that connection. If she's using her real, Sleeper identity for all this then you can also bet yourself a dollar that she's incredibly emotionally involved in this whole project. Some Mages might be able to kill a bunch of people for a magical experiment or symbolic whatever, but not many would kill people they personally know. And the number who could do that while not even showing a sweat...

Like, who knows how her mindset works, but this chick is the most calm and focused person you've ever seen who wasn't using Mind magic. You'd write her up as a sociopath if Lily hadn't told you about the emotional intensity of that death wish, which doesn't fit the profile at all. Purely in terms of technical ability she'd make a fantastic Guardian of the Veil.

[PhoeKun]

"Euclid was a hack," said Rebecca, swinging away from the arcane glyph she was scrutinizing. She wraps her arm around Lily's shoulder and snuggles up next to her, whispering in her ear, "and Lily, baby doll, I love you and everything, but if you take away my chance to see the dead rise from their graves I am going to..." she pauses, thinks, "I will make you enjoy something that you shouldn't enjoy."

"...Why does it sound so hot when you say that?"

"We are better than that.

"So let's disarm the bomb, deactivate the runes, and- I don't know, leave a calling card. If the scientist decides he wants to collaborate on his next project. But tonight nobody dies, and we leave here without blood on our hands, and we continue to rack up a reputation for being experiment-crashers but we can handle that as it comes. So what do you say, Lily?"

Delicate, on the edge of a razor, one side human, the other side not. And how can she, Gabriella, how can she claim the moral high ground here? Maybe it's leaking out of her even now, adding to her air of wounded morality: the desperation in her voice, the knowledge that killing someone isn't something that you can shrug off. Ajax's rebuke: we don't kill, not even the Seers. The zoo: pulled back from the height of speculation by Lily, reminding her that sometimes magic isn't worth magic's sake.

Functionally, there is little she can do to stop the bomb. The runes- she could deface the runes easily, make the experiment worthless, make the deaths meaningless- but the bomb is Lily's to change or preserve, and so all Compass can do is ask.

The smile falters on Lily's lips. And the light in her eyes flickers and dies. She chokes on a dozen poorly formed jokes and counterarguments, and in the end is just... quiet. Un-Lilylike. Still. Even with Rebecca aggressively posturing on her shoulder, it's sad. Twitching and flitting from thing to thing, thoughts tumbling out of her mouth like an extremely social, erudite hummingbird, or slow, swaying, slightly slurring, drunkenly philosophical, these are the two Lilys that should exist. This still, shutdown version is just... wrong.

Stupid to let it sting this much. Stupid to have even asked. You knew, Lily, before you even came down here, what she wanted. And you knew that what your friends would want out of this is what would happen. And you absolutely knew that what they wanted and what you wanted were almost certainly not going to wind up in alignment. But you told yourself a long time ago that wouldn't matter. That it was how things should be: the price paid in exchange for their love and acceptance. Never should have opened the door if you couldn't stand it being slammed shut again. They're different than you are, Lily. They have jobs and responsibilities and go running too early in the day or hide themselves behind masks or dream of grand, cosmic workings on a scale nobody else could ever conceive of. They love you, but do not understand you. The only person who might have is upstairs waiting to blow you up because you couldn't hold it together for thirty effing seconds and now she hates you. So good job, game over.

A deep, rasping sigh. Shake It Off, girl. Lily shakes her head and lets the tiniest of smiles return to her lips.

"I guess you're going to have to figure out something super duper awful to make me enjoy, Becks, because not only am I going to deny you the chance to see the dead rise from their graves, I'm packing this whole stupid experiment up and taking it home with me. Compy, we'll... talk about it later, yeah?"

And without waiting, Lily shakes open her purse and pulls out some tools. It's an incredibly simple thing to disarm the bomb, so she just does that like any normal person would, though perhaps with less sweating and fretting. No, the real trick is when she starts to sing to the explosives in High Speech like some kind of melancholy Paramore cover and meticulously shrinks the entire bomb setup to be small enough to fit inside her bag and carry out of the party with her. Maybe if she just... recreated it elsewhere, changed some variables, she could find a version of the idea Compass would be okay with. And maybe if she published the results, she wouldn't have the entire city's worth of experimenting mages coming down on her head for ruining all of their plans.

((The disarm roll was 10, 2, 1, 4, 3, 4 5, with an 8 on the 10 Again for 2 successes. The Shrink/Grow Spell should be up to the task of giving me a pocket bomb, but I don't know what scale I need to cast it on to be useful so I'm not sure what kind of dice pool I'm working with. If you could give me an idea, I'll roll for it straight away))

[Anarion]

"Lily - oh, the gatecrasher," Mrs. Ainsworth puts on an artful expression of exasperation mixed with amusement. "I seem to have attracted an entire posse of fashion auteurs. Believe it or not, I was not always a high society debutant - I grew up in Armadale, a little mountaintop community near Canberra with a mile between houses. One finds things to occupy oneself with in a place like that."



So the oldest, strongest connection is the one she just mentioned. That's useful intel because it means she's using her real identity here - it wouldn't be too much work for a rival mage to find out her true name with that connection. If she's using her real, Sleeper identity for all this then you can also bet yourself a dollar that she's incredibly emotionally involved in this whole project. Some Mages might be able to kill a bunch of people for a magical experiment or symbolic whatever, but not many would kill people they personally know. And the number who could do that while not even showing a sweat...

Like, who knows how her mindset works, but this chick is the most calm and focused person you've ever seen who wasn't using Mind magic. You'd write her up as a sociopath if Lily hadn't told you about the emotional intensity of that death wish, which doesn't fit the profile at all. Purely in terms of technical ability she'd make a fantastic Guardian of the Veil.

"Gatecrasher. Well...I..." Keynes had perhaps been considering going with well, I never in some quantity of mock and real insult that would have turned his dark mustache down in a rather comical frown. But instead, his lips twitched up almost involuntarily as he imagined Lily downright enjoying the title. In fact, if she ever had the opportunity to crash an actual gate, Keynes was quite sure that she'd do it. "...I admit you have us dead to rights, but I think, madame, that it is entirely your own fault for throwing such an exceptional party." Keynes pauses, hopes for a chuckle, moves on. "Given your already considerable talents, perhaps I make a request in vain, but would you be at all interested in some, shall we say, clandestine work? I am in contact with some individuals who would be overjoyed to receive your assistance in any form you'd care to provide it."

[Thanqol]

"...Why does it sound so hot when you say that?"

"Because maybe I've done this to you before?"

The smile falters on Lily's lips. And the light in her eyes flickers and dies. She chokes on a dozen poorly formed jokes and counterarguments, and in the end is just... quiet. Un-Lilylike. Still. Even with Rebecca aggressively posturing on her shoulder, it's sad. Twitching and flitting from thing to thing, thoughts tumbling out of her mouth like an extremely social, erudite hummingbird, or slow, swaying, slightly slurring, drunkenly philosophical, these are the two Lilys that should exist. This still, shutdown version is just... wrong.

Stupid to let it sting this much. Stupid to have even asked. You knew, Lily, before you even came down here, what she wanted. And you knew that what your friends would want out of this is what would happen. And you absolutely knew that what they wanted and what you wanted were almost certainly not going to wind up in alignment. But you told yourself a long time ago that wouldn't matter. That it was how things should be: the price paid in exchange for their love and acceptance. Never should have opened the door if you couldn't stand it being slammed shut again. They're different than you are, Lily. They have jobs and responsibilities and go running too early in the day or hide themselves behind masks or dream of grand, cosmic workings on a scale nobody else could ever conceive of. They love you, but do not understand you. The only person who might have is upstairs waiting to blow you up because you couldn't hold it together for thirty effing seconds and now she hates you. So good job, game over.

A deep, rasping sigh. Shake It Off, girl. Lily shakes her head and lets the tiniest of smiles return to her lips.

"I guess you're going to have to figure out something super duper awful to make me enjoy, Becks, because not only am I going to deny you the chance to see the dead rise from their graves, I'm packing this whole stupid experiment up and taking it home with me. Compy, we'll... talk about it later, yeah?"

And without waiting, Lily shakes open her purse and pulls out some tools. It's an incredibly simple thing to disarm the bomb, so she just does that like any normal person would, though perhaps with less sweating and fretting. No, the real trick is when she starts to sing to the explosives in High Speech like some kind of melancholy Paramore cover and meticulously shrinks the entire bomb setup to be small enough to fit inside her bag and carry out of the party with her. Maybe if she just... recreated it elsewhere, changed some variables, she could find a version of the idea Compass would be okay with. And maybe if she published the results, she wouldn't have the entire city's worth of experimenting mages coming down on her head for ruining all of their plans.

((The disarm roll was 10, 2, 1, 4, 3, 4 5, with an 8 on the 10 Again for 2 successes. The Shrink/Grow Spell should be up to the task of giving me a pocket bomb, but I don't know what scale I need to cast it on to be useful so I'm not sure what kind of dice pool I'm working with. If you could give me an idea, I'll roll for it straight away))

[You essentially need to cover a large room, so either -4 at standard scale or reach for advanced scale at no penalty]

"Hold up," said the almost-Mastigos, eyes alight with focus. Dangerous. She's found something she wants.

Space shifts like a serpent. It coils and bubbles, to ordinary senses appearing like free-floating funhouse mirrors. A huge symbol of Mind-Ruling appears in the room. It's being directed with the most focus you've seen from Rebecca, Compass, and it's a dangerous thing. She's able to almost-comprehend the symbols she's creating with the aid of your spell keeping her a Sleepwalker, and more, this kind of destructive impulse is in line with the Mystery Play she is acting out. There's power here.

She wants two things, both contained in a single spell. One, for Lily to forget Compass' rebuke, two, for Compass to decide that this is actually a fantastic idea and encourage Lily to go ahead with the plan.

And here's the catch: She wants this enough to re-cast this spell every round. Your previous counterspells have been simple because they were breaking apart momentary whims, as soon as the spell was broken it'd fade back into nothingness. This is a sustained, dedicated effort. Every round you try and counter this you'll need to roll the dice, and you'll need to keep rolling until she decides to stop doing it. Additionally, countering a spell is an instant action so it takes a fair bit of focus, you'll have only limited capacity to do other things. Conversation, small actions, that kind of thing. Lily of course will have a free hand.

The one upside is that Rebecca is not great at this - she has effective Mind 2 and effective Gnosis 0 - which results in 0 successes on the first Clash of Wills roll.

"Gatecrasher. Well...I..." Keynes had perhaps been considering going with well, I never in some quantity of mock and real insult that would have turned his dark mustache down in a rather comical frown. But instead, his lips twitched up almost involuntarily as he imagined Lily downright enjoying the title. In fact, if she ever had the opportunity to crash an actual gate, Keynes was quite sure that she'd do it. "...I admit you have us dead to rights, but I think, madame, that it is entirely your own fault for throwing such an exceptional party." Keynes pauses, hopes for a chuckle, moves on. "Given your already considerable talents, perhaps I make a request in vain, but would you be at all interested in some, shall we say, clandestine work? I am in contact with some individuals who would be overjoyed to receive your assistance in any form you'd care to provide it."

That... actually does get a reaction. You see a flash of interest behind Mrs. Ainsworth's eyes - and she masks it well and reflexively but you can tell instantly that the conversation has taken on a very different tone. You have her attention now.

"Clandestine work? Are you suggesting something vulgar, sir?" she says. "Because I am not sure what talents you refer to."

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE II

Compass watches as Lily begins her working, and holds one hand inside the other, fine gloves rubbing delicate between her skin. Guilt, again, but tempered with the knowledge that- well, she's the one who has to make the call. To try to save everyone upstairs, sinners or no. To restrain the beautiful destruction that would erupt and desecrate the tools placed carefully down here.

Sometimes, being a friend means being willing to call out your friends when they're dangerously close to the edge.

Before something leaks in over the edge.

"Hold up," said the almost-Mastigos, eyes alight with focus. Dangerous. She's found something she wants.

Space shifts like a serpent. It coils and bubbles, to ordinary senses appearing like free-floating funhouse mirrors. A huge symbol of Mind-Ruling appears in the room. It's being directed with the most focus you've seen from Rebecca, Compass, and it's a dangerous thing. She's able to almost-comprehend the symbols she's creating with the aid of your spell keeping her a Sleepwalker, and more, this kind of destructive impulse is in line with the Mystery Play she is acting out. There's power here.

She wants two things, both contained in a single spell. One, for Lily to forget Compass' rebuke, two, for Compass to decide that this is actually a fantastic idea and encourage Lily to go ahead with the plan.

And here's the catch: She wants this enough to re-cast this spell every round. Your previous counterspells have been simple because they were breaking apart momentary whims, as soon as the spell was broken it'd fade back into nothingness. This is a sustained, dedicated effort. Every round you try and counter this you'll need to roll the dice, and you'll need to keep rolling until she decides to stop doing it. Additionally, countering a spell is an instant action so it takes a fair bit of focus, you'll have only limited capacity to do other things. Conversation, small actions, that kind of thing. Lily of course will have a free hand.

The one upside is that Rebecca is not great at this - she has effective Mind 2 and effective Gnosis 0 - which results in 0 successes on the first Clash of Wills roll.

[9, 7, 4, 2 - 1 Success]

Compass's eyes snap back onto Rebecca, heart beginning to pump fire through her, an immediate word on her lips which means forbiddance/starvation in the first language of existence, the tongues of heaven that sing between the spheres. It echoes in that space, sudden and heavy and deep, and her shaped will cracks open the symbol with silver fire.

"Rebecca Beasley, stand down. By the code of the Lex Magica and the authority of the Silver Ladder, I order you to-"

[Anarion]

That... actually does get a reaction. You see a flash of interest behind Mrs. Ainsworth's eyes - and she masks it well and reflexively but you can tell instantly that the conversation has taken on a very different tone. You have her attention now.

"Clandestine work? Are you suggesting something vulgar, sir?" she says. "Because I am not sure what talents you refer to."

Downstairs, wills are clashing, but upstairs Keynes is busy recruiting, in his own particular way. "Vulgar? Perish the thought! No, no, indeed vulgar is quite the opposite of how you have struck me, Madame Ainsworth. I would say rather, that you appear to me to be multifaceted in your skills with an exceptional composure and decorum. Such poise can, if one desires, be uniquely suited to the work of gathering information from the men and women of society. Further, I am able, from time to time, to represent some individuals who have an interest in gathering information. You will appreciate, as a matter of discretion, that I cannot disclose any identities, of course, but if you have an interest, I would be happy to arrange for you to receive further information. At a place of your choosing, I hasten to add. I should never imagine as to be so unseemly as to suggest you bring yourself alone to an unfamiliar location."

[Thanqol]

[9, 7, 4, 2 - 1 Success]

Compass's eyes snap back onto Rebecca, heart beginning to pump fire through her, an immediate word on her lips which means forbiddance/starvation in the first language of existence, the tongues of heaven that sing between the spheres. It echoes in that space, sudden and heavy and deep, and her shaped will cracks open the symbol with silver fire.

"Rebecca Beasley, stand down. By the code of the Lex Magica and the authority of the Silver Ladder, I order you to-"

"The Lex does not apply in this case," said Rebecca sharply, producing a cigarette smoothly from her pocket and lighting it. She's as languid as you are intense - the magic does not cost her effort, all she has to do is know what she wants and let it crash against you like the tides.

As to how she knows about the Lex Magica - well, she's still an occult super-genius right now.

"As I am not Awakened, technically you as the ranking Thearch on the scene are responsible for me," said Rebecca, taking a deep breath of smoke and smiling like the serpent. "You see, I don't really comprehend what I'm doing, poor little me, and I can't possibly be held responsible for my actions." Her psychic grip doesn't intensify, that's not her style, but it does shift. What she does is plug random parts of your brain into random other parts of your brain, bringing to the surface strange memories and distracting fantasies, scrambling the borders of what's real and who you are, blurring the reasons for your objection.

She steps close, puts a hand to your cheek. "And do you know how sweet it is not being in control of your actions? Wouldn't you like to try, just for a little while? Don't think of it as surrender... think of it as a way to make all your contradictory desires line up."

[Clash of wills: 3, 1 - no successes]

Downstairs, wills are clashing, but upstairs Keynes is busy recruiting, in his own particular way. "Vulgar? Perish the thought! No, no, indeed vulgar is quite the opposite of how you have struck me, Madame Ainsworth. I would say rather, that you appear to me to be multifaceted in your skills with an exceptional composure and decorum. Such poise can, if one desires, be uniquely suited to the work of gathering information from the men and women of society. Further, I am able, from time to time, to represent some individuals who have an interest in gathering information. You will appreciate, as a matter of discretion, that I cannot disclose any identities, of course, but if you have an interest, I would be happy to arrange for you to receive further information. At a place of your choosing, I hasten to add. I should never imagine as to be so unseemly as to suggest you bring yourself alone to an unfamiliar location."

"Ah, society," said Mrs. Ainsworth, theatrically seeming to take a drink - her lips don't quite touch the wine though. "And its secrets. That's what you're interested in? I've found those secrets to be very disappointing. Sex. Murder. Money. All on a sliding scale of inappropriateness. Around and around in circles. What a dull game, society, I can't imagine why anyone bothers with it."

She casts her scarf around her shoulders, visibly communicating how much she enjoys the feeling of it. "So what could you possibly offer me for society's secrets of sex, murder and money? What else but more sex, murder and money?"

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE II

[3, 2, 6, 2 - 0 Successes. Tie re-roll: 1, 4, 5, 7 - 0 successes.]

"Damn," Compass says, her will beginning to splinter and fray against the unconscious power that Rebecca is pushing out of herself in waves. "Should have known the Lex bluff wouldn't have worked. What am I saying? You're Mercury, you already know, and you already know what I mean by that. And you know what this means to me, and-"

And what else is there to say in the second before the next pulse? That Compass is very bad at lying, because she saw the Truth burning brilliant and bright? That she's sorry to everyone upstairs? A sermon, a prayer, a vindictive curse? All of that, already compartmentalized and there for Rebecca to see, like labeled filing cabinets. The steel girders of faith building up to a skyscraper core, a mind that is always London rain lashing against the windows, the woman with her hand in the lion's jaw and don't you know you're supposed to hold the mouth shut, not open?

Try that on a crocodile and it'll bite your hands clean off.

[Thanqol]

"It's better this way," said Rebecca, said the Devil, as from her hand drips two chains, one of which ends around your neck. The chain is weak and fragile but there is no point trying to break it. Your card is no longer in ascendance; the lion is a crocodile and downwards momentum is everything.

"Think about it," she said. "You wanted multiple different things. Now you don't. You had a thought that divided you from your friend. Now you don't. And I know that you have some intellectual objection to that, that you put a premium on the value of your own thoughts, that you define yourself by the decisions you make. But that's just another thought. That's just an unhappy, isolated, ugly thought that doesn't know how to share. That thought was the only thing separating you from me from her. Now it's not. Now you're happy."

[With a willpower spend: 8,9,9,10,6, - 10 again 9. 5 successes.]

But as she speaks there is a look of vague concern, something in what she's saying that doesn't quite add up with what she's seeing. Even as her will crushes Compass' Rebecca doesn't look triumphant. The Devil never looks triumphant. The devil frowns.

"Lily," she says, absently, commandingly - but without a spell behind her words. "Tell me about souls. How do they work, what are the rules?"

[Anarion]

"Ah, society," said Mrs. Ainsworth, theatrically seeming to take a drink - her lips don't quite touch the wine though. "And its secrets. That's what you're interested in? I've found those secrets to be very disappointing. Sex. Murder. Money. All on a sliding scale of inappropriateness. Around and around in circles. What a dull game, society, I can't imagine why anyone bothers with it."

She casts her scarf around her shoulders, visibly communicating how much she enjoys the feeling of it. "So what could you possibly offer me for society's secrets of sex, murder and money? What else but more sex, murder and money?"

"Ah, society indeed." Keynes picks up a glass of wine and holds it up. For Queen and Country the glass silently says as it hangs there, but seized by the inspiration, Keynes doesn't drink but gestures forwards with it instead. "Madame, what I find motivates me to get out of bed in the morning is the belief that I am protecting others. You may, of course, tell me that I am deluded, but the course in life that I have set appears to me best suited to that purpose, given my own poor limitations in making such a determination." The glass gestures away from Keynes and invitingly to her, the liquid tipping ever so slightly to bead on the rim as it faces her. "If you share my interest for such a purpose, I believe I can extend it to you. If you wish to seek discovery of the unknown and find your own purpose, that too I can offer." The glass lowers, and Keynes sets it down, deciding not to drink after all as he contemplates his last thought. "Or perhaps you are telling me that you are a nihilist and you see nothing in life truly worthy of your pursuit before you reach your own ultimate destruction as we all must."

[PhoeKun]

"Lily," she says, absently, commandingly - but without a spell behind her words. "Tell me about souls. How do they work, what are the rules?"

It's a question, not a command. Well, not a magical one, anyway. The thought rolls around in her head for a bit, and finds purchase when she realizes how vehemently she wants to say no, shut up, don't you see how difficult this already is? She doesn't look at Compass, because she can't. Because she knows what she'll see, and knows that it would mean an act of war. But she can say no. It's elemental, the desire to make a rude gesture at her friend who isn't her best friend, and force her to figure out what she wants without any help.

But, says a gentler voice, if she were the type of person to deny help like this, would she really be Lily? And then, the question to be asked: was there no spell behind this because Rebecca knew who she was talking to, or was she still a prisoner of her own brain? Once again, a deep breath through the nose. In. Out.

Lily sits herself down on the ground, weight on her left thigh and her legs tucked together and bent slightly at the knees so that in her dress she resembles a mermaid, resplendent in rest. She pats the spot next to her and gestures for Rebecca to join her.

"You never make anything easy, do you? Couldn't just let me do my job and then take it out on me later, huh? I wouldn't even have been mad. Well... oh well. Let me know when you figure out which one of your demons makes you a possessive jerk, in the meantime, I'll tell you about souls. First thing's first, a soul is not a person, and a person is not a soul. A soul without a person is a bundle of raw, unshaped desire, just sitting there in whatever container you stuff it into. And a person without a soul is a horrible, awful husk. Just an empty shell that sort of shuffles around and eats and drinks because it vaguely remembers that somebody told it to. And frankly if somebody told it to stop, it would.

It's only when joined together, the soul and the person, that either means anything. The soul, filling up the shape of you and becoming uniquely you: the things that drive you, what you want, what you love, what you hate, what makes you get up in the morning even when it's stupid early and you really, really don't want to. And you, learning and developing and changing the shape of your container until the thing you'd call your soul is a product so distinctly you that even if it left you, the echoed memory of it being there would keep you together for at least a little while. If I don't finish what I'm doing here... that is, if you don't let me, what's going to happen is that 100 plus people are going to die, and whatever new people their souls might have become will disappear from the world until the person holding them in those tools over there is satisfied or gets bored or burns them like gasoline to fuel some other spell, which for the record is so crazy illegal that even I know better. And regardless, the shape of that person who made this ritual, and probably mine and yours at this point too, would remember the decision to trigger the bomb. Forever. Or at least near enough your conception of forever to not make a difference."

Lily shrugs a little, and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as if holding eye contact is too embarrassing.

"I dunno, Becca. I don't understand why you'd even want to see this. I know, it's magic, woohoo~ but, like... what do you think is going to happen? I mean, the setup of these explosives is so precise and filled with meaning that the explosion alone is worth a lot of valuable information to the right sort of person, but it's less than nothing for me to just steal the bomb and repurpose it in a place that isn't going to turn anybody who pulls the trigger into a mass murderer. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong here, but wasn't the Gunpowder Plot specifically about blowing up Parliament, and not... y'know, killing the members? Or was that just the movie? I don't remember. But, like, the heck does a soul mean to you? Do you not get it? You're not going to Awaken just because you saw one, you wouldn't even know what you were looking at. And, like, even if I popped upstairs, stole the soul of an honest-to-goodness wizard, and stuffed it inside of you, all that'd accomplish is taking an already Awakened soul and forcing it back asleep.

I don't get it. I don't. Do you just not value my friendship? Am I such trash to you that you'd futz around with my best friend's head and kill a bunch of people just to see a magic show? For crying out loud, Beckers, has it ever occurred to you to just, like, ask? Tell me there's more than that. Or heck, tell me there's less. Tell me you weren't thinking and your eyes got bigger than your brain for a minute, I'll shrug that off straight away but please dear gosh tell me there's something other than what I'm seeing right now..."

[Thanqol]

"Ah, society indeed." Keynes picks up a glass of wine and holds it up. For Queen and Country the glass silently says as it hangs there, but seized by the inspiration, Keynes doesn't drink but gestures forwards with it instead. "Madame, what I find motivates me to get out of bed in the morning is the belief that I am protecting others. You may, of course, tell me that I am deluded, but the course in life that I have set appears to me best suited to that purpose, given my own poor limitations in making such a determination." The glass gestures away from Keynes and invitingly to her, the liquid tipping ever so slightly to bead on the rim as it faces her. "If you share my interest for such a purpose, I believe I can extend it to you. If you wish to seek discovery of the unknown and find your own purpose, that too I can offer." The glass lowers, and Keynes sets it down, deciding not to drink after all as he contemplates his last thought. "Or perhaps you are telling me that you are a nihilist and you see nothing in life truly worthy of your pursuit before you reach your own ultimate destruction as we all must."

"No one becomes a nihilist by choice," said Mrs. Ainsworth. "The onus is on the world to be interesting and I don't think the world is doing a very good job. You find purpose in protecting people - have you ever really paid attention to people? What do people do all day that's worthwhile? Frankly, I find myself in a state where I'm increasingly willing to give up on people as a concept." She smiled a little to herself. "And I find that concept to be really quite interesting. Do you object?"

I don't get it. I don't. Do you just not value my friendship? Am I such trash to you that you'd futz around with my best friend's head and kill a bunch of people just to see a magic show? For crying out loud, Beckers, has it ever occurred to you to just, like, ask? Tell me there's more than that. Or heck, tell me there's less. Tell me you weren't thinking and your eyes got bigger than your brain for a minute, I'll shrug that off straight away but please dear gosh tell me there's something other than what I'm seeing right now..."

"Of course I value you - how can you not know that?" said Rebecca. "And that's the point - that's the problem. Can't you see it? Look at it, look at this," she waves her hands at a blank patch of air. "The connection. It's literally there. It's like a big long silver chain linking you to me, and I'm covered in these chains, and they're so heavy. There's chains tying me to people, to places, to abstract goddamn concepts like morality that I can see physically floating in mid-air - how do you not see it? You've been through the same goddamn thing! And there are so many of these damn connections it feels like I can hardly move. Of course I want to let the chains pull me along into the right decision, the decision that doesn't kill anyone, the decision that doesn't lose my friends - of course I want that, I can see my wants made manifest in front of me."

She rubbed her temples as though fighting back an enormous headache.

"But I can change my wants. It's so easy it doesn't make sense. The chains aren't locked and if I put my mind to it I could just take them off. I could just decide to stop wanting to be a good person, decide that entire category of desire doesn't apply to me - and then, I have no idea. And I don't think you're right when you say a soul is unshaped, raw desire. If the me underneath all those chains is actually a soul like I think it is I think it wants something specific - to do something specific. And it's being held back by who I am. So... do I... which is me? Am I the collection of chains? All the compromises and connections that everyone else sees? Or am I that thing underneath that just wants to throw away everything and focus on what it really wants?"

[Anarion]

"No one becomes a nihilist by choice," said Mrs. Ainsworth. "The onus is on the world to be interesting and I don't think the world is doing a very good job. You find purpose in protecting people - have you ever really paid attention to people? What do people do all day that's worthwhile? Frankly, I find myself in a state where I'm increasingly willing to give up on people as a concept." She smiled a little to herself. "And I find that concept to be really quite interesting. Do you object?"

Hmm, the battlefield gull occurred to Keynes, as far as his old Guardian training. He was still trying to find the profile that fit her and Mrs. Ainsworth seemed exceptionally chameleonic. Still, it could be that she simply sought to destroy her own surroundings as her only source of interest, he had no reason so far not to simply follow her at her word.

"You put me in mind of a quote from an old American movie. 'A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals.' I don't find purpose in people because when I pay attention to people I find them worthy" Keynes lets out a chuckle of wry amusement. "Quite the opposite actually, I tend to find for the vast majority of people that protecting them means keeping them away from dangerous things. But by Jove, I find value in that for both the people and the things. You, it seems, find the concept of giving up on people valuable? Abstractly, I would encourage you to pursue it because there may be something great to come of that passion. And I would suggest you consider my offer in pursuing that cause, purely as a matter of self-interest for you. While being a means to an end is not my reason for service, I'm certain the people with whom I work could find opportunities to explore your, shall we say, loss of faith in quite tangible ways that might not otherwise be available."

[PhoeKun]

"Of course I value you - how can you not know that?" said Rebecca. "And that's the point - that's the problem. Can't you see it? Look at it, look at this," she waves her hands at a blank patch of air. "The connection. It's literally there. It's like a big long silver chain linking you to me, and I'm covered in these chains, and they're so heavy. There's chains tying me to people, to places, to abstract goddamn concepts like morality that I can see physically floating in mid-air - how do you not see it? You've been through the same goddamn thing! And there are so many of these damn connections it feels like I can hardly move. Of course I want to let the chains pull me along into the right decision, the decision that doesn't kill anyone, the decision that doesn't lose my friends - of course I want that, I can see my wants made manifest in front of me."

She rubbed her temples as though fighting back an enormous headache.

"But I can change my wants. It's so easy it doesn't make sense. The chains aren't locked and if I put my mind to it I could just take them off. I could just decide to stop wanting to be a good person, decide that entire category of desire doesn't apply to me - and then, I have no idea. And I don't think you're right when you say a soul is unshaped, raw desire. If the me underneath all those chains is actually a soul like I think it is I think it wants something specific - to do something specific. And it's being held back by who I am. So... do I... which is me? Am I the collection of chains? All the compromises and connections that everyone else sees? Or am I that thing underneath that just wants to throw away everything and focus on what it really wants?"

"Wow girl, you never give me the easy stuff, huh? Well, I'm sorry, I haven't been through the same thing. My thing had ghosts and depression and the entire world bleeding out into grayscale, and it ended with me setting my apartment on fire. And I guess if you want to take a lesson from that, it probably takes something pretty big and flashy to break through."

Lily tosses her head back and stares up toward the ceiling, or at least what she can see of it. Her lips are taught, trying to smile and light her face up but caught up in the tension of the things she's about to have to say.

"I'm sorry, Becca. I really am. I didn't even realize I was being a bad friend. I..." a pause, a deep, puffy sigh, "Look, okay? Magic is perception. It's a new way to see the world. And so for the different paths and arcana, two different mages can see the world and perceive entirely different things, different problems, different solutions. I don't mean they've gotta be enemies or anything, look at Compy and me, but like... okay, nerd example: stand two people in front of the same sunset over the same lake from the same height at the same time, and those people won't see the same lakey sunsetty goodness. That's because neither one of them actually sees the lake or the sunset, they see photons bouncing off of all that stuff, which their eyes then read upside down and their brains have to process and recreate before it actually clicks that they've seen anything. So, like, not only are the two people quite literally seeing different objects despite staring at the same one, but in the end it also comes down to cognition.

And magic's like that times a thousand, and god listen to me nerd out instead of talking to you like I know I'm supposed to because, Becca, I am so scared. What I'm trying to say is, I knew from the moment I saw you that you would see things differently from how I did, but I never seriously stopped to think about what that meant. Like, what you'd see, what it would mean to you, how it'd change your responses to stuff and... yeah, I'm just super duper selfish I guess. 'Cause I got to be your friend and on some level that started mattering more to me than if you were happy. There wasn't even a second where I considered that Rebecca the Mage, which... yeah, between the transmutation and the shadow name I don't see how you could be the s-- I just... yeah. Never let myself think that at the end of things, you wouldn't like me anymore. That maybe you're not supposed to."

Lily lowers her head and looks her friend straight in the eye, though hers are shimmering a bit. Her lips twitch, and she laughs weakly.

"I have no idea what's buried in the depths of your heart, Becca. I don't know if you'll like who you are underneath all of your chains," she says as she reaches out and clutches at the air where hers is supposed to be, "But I do know this for certain: if you never try, you'll never know. And if you never know, you're always going to be... like this. Stuck halfway in between two worlds and not belonging to or seeing either one. And I hate that so much. So, I... yeah. You do you. Literally. Endings are new Beginnings, yeah? So even if you, y'know, hate me at the end of things, you've gotta find out who your Heart is."

[Thanqol]

She thinks about it.

She looks you in the eye.

"Fuck that," she says. "I don't know me, but I do know you - and I know which one I'll choose."

And she deletes the devil.

She reaches into her own chaotic, turbulent soul, those impossible unexpressed desires, and erases them. She wipes her own soul clean. She undoes herself, Scourges herself, cuts out that indivisible core of herself that contains everything that she is. All she leaves are the chains.

She becomes the chains. She is the chains. In that moment there is nothing but the chains - nothing but the lines - nothing but the connections. A void, tied to everything. Connection itself.

In that moment you witness an Awakening. Through blurred and distant lenses, missing everything of true importance, but all the same you witness it. Sages say that an Awakening is the single most powerful magical act a Mage will ever perform in their lifetime and it feels that way as all the power and madness and logic of the Verge folds into that void-silhouette. A cosmos of chains, a forest of chains, bindings and locks and fortresses pack themselves into that silhouette of a person. It's terrifying, spectacular - awesome in the original sense of the word.

And then the machinery of the cosmos moves.

A great engine of Awakened spellwork reaches out. Mastery of Death. Mastery of Space. Mastery of Fate. Mastery of Spirit. Four great pillars from four great pylons burning clear and bright from the Sydney Harbour Bridge, unmistakable. Prepared ritual magic, artifacts of incredible power, a grand working worthy of a cabal of mages and a hundred years - it strikes out, it severs the soul of the newly Awakened Rebecca and it steals her away.

This is it; the true form of the boot that rests upon the back of Sydney and prevents each new Awakening as it occurs. This is the working and the method - at the moment of apotheosis this mighty soul engine snatches the petitioner's soul and seals it in one of the great pylons that surround the harbour bridge. In this moment you see it, the full extent of it, the true character of the working. But it is vast and it is only active for a second before light returns and the world resumes.

There is only enough time to get a single glimpse at the soul engine, and as a result, only time for each of you to ask a single question about it's operation or origins. But you may ask and will receive an honest answer for in acting it makes itself vulnerable.

Rebecca, Awakened, becomes manifest in a blurring network of chains and silhouettes - her nimbus reflects her as an endless void bound in silver. She is a Mage now, exulting in her sudden supernal energies, in a moment where all the world finally makes sense - and she's still running on the energies of her now departed soul. Unassisted she will follow the path to thralldom: Hyperactivity, depression, despair, emptiness. She is unaware of this.


Keynes, Mrs. Ainsworth is contemplating your words when the Engine moves - she sees it too, she reacts, and in this moment of emotion you have a chance to read her with wits+empathy at a mere -3. For free: The Seer, Lucifer, starts and storms to his feet. His emotions are plain: He is shocked to the core, he has no idea what he just saw, this was not his working nor any that he knew of. Mrs. Ainsworth rushes towards the basement - possible now that the regular laws of Space are once again in play - and Lucifer produces a cell phone and walks towards the front door. What do you do?

[Anarion]

Keynes, Mrs. Ainsworth is contemplating your words when the Engine moves - she sees it too, she reacts, and in this moment of emotion you have a chance to read her with wits+empathy at a mere -3. For free: The Seer, Lucifer, starts and storms to his feet. His emotions are plain: He is shocked to the core, he has no idea what he just saw, this was not his working nor any that he knew of. Mrs. Ainsworth rushes towards the basement - possible now that the regular laws of Space are once again in play - and Lucifer produces a cell phone and walks towards the front door. What do you do?

I'm reserving my question for the moment, I still can't decide what insight I want from this.

But let's deal with the immediate problems. [Wits+Empathy-3=4d10: 4, 5, 4, 8. Success.]

Keynes also rushes off towards the basement. He'll let the Seer go, there's not much for him to do and chasing the man would be quite dangerous. He'll try to take in the scene when he gets there, and perhaps stop Mrs. Ainsworth from doing anything untoward.

[Raz_Fox]

So. Compass in cream and platinum, eyeing the bomb, waiting patiently for Rebecca and Lily to finish their conversation so that she can rectify the error she has made, that she may encourage Lily in turn to follow her heart and set off the explosion so that they may witness the holy scourge of the wicked, the fire that consumes, the weft and weave of action creating destruction, and suddenly (so sudden that she could not prepare herself, could not fortify herself, could not be aware of what exactly and precisely to watch for) there is an Awakening.

So then let us not sleep, as others do; but let us Awaken and be sober.

She opens her eyes and opens her eyes again, and lets the chains that encircle the void sear themselves into her sight. Their tongues are tongues of fire and their connections are the roads that have been written into the world since its beginning. Safety, bondage, vouchsafing, imprisoning, cohering, security and all things coming together to a point. Who can look upon this and not see it as holy? Lord God Almighty!

The bridge roars to life, across the bay, pillars of fire by night. This, too, shining in her soul, the intertwining roar of the pillars as they tear the immortal soul itself from Rebecca, even as the magic and the will stay within her, and all Compass may ask is this, a bitter rage on her tongue:

Who dares judge the children of God unworthy of His touch?

[Anarion]

Keynes is versed in Space and Time. He knows that distance is an illusion, that causality is an illusion. And yet this thing seems limited in both space and time: catching an awakening here, yet not his own, yet not those elsewhere, not his mentor in the desert, or all the mages who reside in the city and may have called this place their home, not the old men in their council. And in the instant that awakening was stolen away by this grand and horrible working, the question that occurs to him is this: how broad, how wide, how deep? How does this edifice stretch through reality and what are limits?

[Thanqol]

But let's deal with the immediate problems. [Wits+Empathy-3=4d10: 4, 5, 4, 8. Success.]

Keynes also rushes off towards the basement. He'll let the Seer go, there's not much for him to do and chasing the man would be quite dangerous. He'll try to take in the scene when he gets there, and perhaps stop Mrs. Ainsworth from doing anything untoward.

Obsession. Mrs. Ainsworth is fixated on this topic, the mystery of Awakening and the Awakening engine of Sydney. The reason for her experiment in the basement, you'd guess, had something to do with it given how swift that connection was in her mind. The rest of the world seems to her pale and grey, she does not know how to care about it with her mind increasingly fixated, and so she was beginning to circle the paths of despair and madness. This is not a Mage who has lost their mind and joined the ranks of the Mad - yet. But in the totality of her focus you see the danger of another Damien Thule. Handle carefully.

Keynes is versed in Space and Time. He knows that distance is an illusion, that causality is an illusion. And yet this thing seems limited in both space and time: catching an awakening here, yet not his own, yet not those elsewhere, not his mentor in the desert, or all the mages who reside in the city and may have called this place their home, not the old men in their council. And in the instant that awakening was stolen away by this grand and horrible working, the question that occurs to him is this: how broad, how wide, how deep? How does this edifice stretch through reality and what are limits?

It stretches through and beyond reality, sourced from nine worlds and leading to nine. A bridge of rainbows burned and sealed black against the earth, scorched in the sunlight. It wraps around the nine worlds of Australia - Canberra, Darwin, Melbourne, Adelaide, Hobart, Perth, Brisbane, Sydney and Alice Springs. Nine worlds, nine Arcana, governed by the one great network of magic itself. The trail of this working crosses the country like serpents, but only here, in the ninth world, does it stand in judgement of souls. Only here, under the shadow of the pylons, does it act in this way.

So. Compass in cream and platinum, eyeing the bomb, waiting patiently for Rebecca and Lily to finish their conversation so that she can rectify the error she has made, that she may encourage Lily in turn to follow her heart and set off the explosion so that they may witness the holy scourge of the wicked, the fire that consumes, the weft and weave of action creating destruction, and suddenly (so sudden that she could not prepare herself, could not fortify herself, could not be aware of what exactly and precisely to watch for) there is an Awakening.

So then let us not sleep, as others do; but let us Awaken and be sober.

She opens her eyes and opens her eyes again, and lets the chains that encircle the void sear themselves into her sight. Their tongues are tongues of fire and their connections are the roads that have been written into the world since its beginning. Safety, bondage, vouchsafing, imprisoning, cohering, security and all things coming together to a point. Who can look upon this and not see it as holy? Lord God Almighty!

The bridge roars to life, across the bay, pillars of fire by night. This, too, shining in her soul, the intertwining roar of the pillars as they tear the immortal soul itself from Rebecca, even as the magic and the will stay within her, and all Compass may ask is this, a bitter rage on her tongue:

Who dares judge the children of God unworthy of His touch?

One soul, broken and perfect. A council of many because that is the language of power. A collection of nobodies because that is the vocabulary of depression. Four great eyes, each with four hands, like the four great pylons on the bridge, each eye turned to one cardinal direction as is with each hand. Wisdom that can swallow the world. A prisoner of invisible lines and rules carved in intentions - because intentions are as reality. Sixteen. Meaningful; powerful; a path of endless labour. Sixty one. Indivisible; chemically unstable; the endless rolling highway.

A soul great and shattered has done this - one whole and inverted and two different shades of many. This is who has dared this.

[PhoeKun]

Sharp breath. Blinking, watery eyes. Not now. Not now, Lily. Feel later.

"...Oh."

A ringing echo in her head. Why? Why would this happen? Why would it happen now? Why didn't it happen to me? Or to Compass or...? Just... why?

[Thanqol]

Sharp breath. Blinking, watery eyes. Not now. Not now, Lily. Feel later.

"...Oh."

A ringing echo in her head. Why? Why would this happen? Why would it happen now? Why didn't it happen to me? Or to Compass or...? Just... why?

To keep you safe. To keep you pure. To disrupt the elaborate network of influence and culture that would otherwise take root and grow and strangle every new idea. The old world wants to infect Australia, this new land, this holy land, this land where we can at last be free to start again bearing none of its history and none of its mistakes and none of its wars.

Only through this disruption can the Orders be kept at bay, even a little. All the world is screaming with beliefs and opinions and convictions. They will come as soon as they see something of value, like locusts. So there can be nothing for them here.

It's the only way to create quiet. It's the only way to create peace. It's the only way to create a sanctuary where one can sit and listen to what the world is trying to say.

This would disturb your meditation.

[Anarion]

Obsession. Mrs. Ainsworth is fixated on this topic, the mystery of Awakening and the Awakening engine of Sydney. The reason for her experiment in the basement, you'd guess, had something to do with it given how swift that connection was in her mind. The rest of the world seems to her pale and grey, she does not know how to care about it with her mind increasingly fixated, and so she was beginning to circle the paths of despair and madness. This is not a Mage who has lost their mind and joined the ranks of the Mad - yet. But in the totality of her focus you see the danger of another Damien Thule. Handle carefully.

Keynes races after her. He's not particularly concerned as to whether she spots him or if she's simply rushing down there headlong heedless of who follows. Now that Lucifer is gone, he's not trying all that hard to keep his secret, though neither is he jogging alongside her for casual conversation.

He's primarily coming to make sure that nothing explodes and to keep anyone from doing anything rash while the situation downstairs gets sorted out. Whatever that situation might be.

[PhoeKun]

This would disturb your meditation.

...Right. Um, yeah. Okay. Sure.

Lily slumps against the wall she's been sitting next to, leans her head back, and stares blankly at the ceiling.

"Hey, Compy? We're... done, right? Can we be done? I don't want to be here anymore..."

[Raz_Fox]

God damn the warlocks, but even Rebecca did not deserve this blasphemy, this theft of God's gift. Rage wars with exhaustion; there is no room for fear. Hubris. A crime against Heaven. Babel! So too let these pillars fall.

"I think we have seen what we were meant to see," she says, crisply, cold radiating from her tongue. "Thank you for your help, Rebecca." She hands the warlock a business card - even in this cream-and-platinum wonder, prepared - and offers Lily a hand up to her feet.

There is work to be done.

[Thanqol]

The evening rolls like thunder.

The party falls apart fairly quickly. Turns out everyone's been dosed with a sedative. Fortunately, no fatalities and the sense of doom hanging over the place is gone. For her part as soon as Mrs. Ainsworth perceives that there are people in her basement she shimmers and disappears into Twilight, invisible and ephemeral. Keynes can be fairly certain her next port of call will be the local Free Council/unaligned Assembly, and Fate indicates that could be somewhat portentous.

Keynes, it's notable that you don't receive any reports from Sydney's Guardians of the Veil. If everyone had seen that Bridge flare going off then you'd be inundated with phone calls, unannounced visits and creepy messages written on the walls with blood. That you're not indicates that no one else saw it - just your cabal, Ainsworth and the Seer.

Rebecca is manic with energy - all her questions are answered and unbelievable new power is flowing through her. As is common with new mages, though, she is accidentally reaching too far and too fast with her magic and risking Paradox - and that's actually a really really dangerous thing right now because without a soul she'll be super easy to possess if something goes wrong.

As members of ancient and mystic globe-spanning organizations dedicated to performing this exact service, though, both Keynes and Compass have really good options and really good training for what to do in this exact situation (not considering the possibility of Lily having some kind of Idea). Essentially, you can hand her off to either the Guardians of the Veil or the Silver Ladder for intake and basic. There is one sharp edge to the choice though:

If you hand her off to the Guardians, they will find a soul for her somewhere. The Guardians are an Order totally not above casual soul-stealing to serve the greater Awakened good. She'll be restored as a Mage and some poor bastard who probably deserves it will have their soul redistributed and the Awakened Nation will march together again as one.

However, if you hand her off to the Ladder then the outrage Compass is feeling is going to get institutionalized. The Ladder will find out what happened and, knowing them, their approach is going to be a big strong attempt to cut right to the heart of the problem with military force. They're going to get Rebecca's soul back from wherever it is and give it back to her, and then begin criminal proceedings against whoever's responsible.

And while escalating the situation that far will be decisive it will also have a lot of unforeseen consequences. There are many, many unknowns here - and as any good civil servant knows, you don't send your report to the Minister unless it's finished. So - do you pull the lever, or wait and gather more information first?

[Thanqol]

COMPASS

You're sitting down with Percival across from a chessboard. He's playing to lose deliberately - to trick you into a checkmate early. Perhaps this is meaningful to him. Are you playing to win? Where is this chessboard? It can be anywhere - he agreed to your terms.

He's seen better days. He's gaunt, harried, pale, diseased. And this isn't just his physical form - his Nimbus is deeply sickly and unwell; the glimmering silver knight's armour is rusting and filth drips through the rivets and chainmail. He's holding a cigarette with trembling fingers like it's the only thing giving him enough strength to keep going. Through eyes of Prime there's something wrong with his soul - cast a spell for more precise information if you like, if you dare.

"You have disrupted my schedule," he said, hitting the button on the turn clock. "And Time is so very important to me right now. What will it cost to make you go away?"

LILY

You are at the Nameless Assembly[1], the counter-culture backlash against the structure of organized Mage society. It's not a pleasant place. The most socially adept people tend to get sucked into the Orders because they're the best at navigating Order politics. Most people here are either wrapped up with deeply personal sh*t, somehow managed to disagree with the Mysterium on something, or who had just enough shame to not be able to live with a life as a Seer. A lot of them are magical geniuses pushing either the envelope or the boundaries of sanity. There aren't really any rules, just a vague sense of democracy pushed by the card-carrying Free Council dudes.

[1] The word Nameless is one of mystic significance, no matter what people propose nothing seems to stick quite like 'Nameless' - and not for lack of trying by some of the more stubborn members, but whenever they slip in conversation 'Nameless' will come out.

And the Free Council really is doing a soft culture push on the Assembly. Their guys are by far the most charming, the most willing to put in the legwork to make sure there's a good venue, and not calling anyone on their bullsh*t. Their game seems to be to wait for some sort of disagreement and then be like, 'hey, let's put it to a vote'. People generally agree, the vote is held, and the Assembly subtly absorbs a little bit more Free Council ideology. Big picture, eventually some move by the Orders will threaten the independence or interests of the Assembly, for a moment the squabbling misfits will be united, and that's when the Free Council recruitment brochures come out.

This is common knowledge. One particularly acidic asshat named Rabbity took the floor and prophesied/ranted it. The Free Council guy (and his Shadow Name seems to be 'Free Council Guy' as far as anyone can tell) responded by asking him to prophesise if anything actually changed in the day to day lives of the Assembly members afterwards.

Today the Assembly is being held in a laser tag game. It's a dark warehouse filled with eerie glowing lights, every Mage for herself. Free Council Guy set up a demesne beforehand so there's no risk of paradox but it's considered bad sport to cheat too obviously. Free Council Guy also set up what he said was a 'big Fate thing' to make sure that 'people get the chance to have the conversations they need to have' - and it seems like it's working because you've found you've got the drop on Mrs. Ainsworth. You've seen her here before but you didn't recognize her - she's so good with her makeup she's a totally different person to who you saw at the party, and she constantly uses Death to suppress her magical aura.

You're close on her heels but from the corner of your eye you spot that she has a Ghost with her - a weak one, just some gangly teenager, but he's watching her back while she advances. What do you do?

KEYNES

It's an auspicious moment. Zen-Bui-Zen, one of the wandering Masters of the Guardians of the Veil has come to town. He wears the Masque of age and wisdom, and so he appears - what is your mental image of an elderly mentor figure? That is as you shall see Zen. He sits in the instructors position of the discount Karate Dojo and you before him. He rarely speaks but his Nimbus translates his smiles into images - right now they flow through shapes of curiosity and grandfatherly concern. You have his undivided attention and you can see that made manifest all about him as every stray thought is brutally executed by shadowy men with scimitars. What do you ask?