1 Don't worry, little one, I wouldn't hurt you. But we really should get you out of here. It isn't safe. There are all sorts of monsters around. There are more monsters out of here... it isn't safe. Take a good look at the current population. I can promise you that we'll find a place with less monsters than these. We can protect you. I don't need protection. Really, I don't.. Then step away from all the wardings Garret and Astarial are trying to put on you. Reach out and take my hand. You know you want to. I do so beg to differ. You've been so brave. We're very proud of you. But the time is coming for us to depart. Come with me, little one... If this was outloud, she'd probably whimper. Too many people watching, no? please? We can hide you from them - you can escape, it's not too late, but it will be soon... time is running out! Chloe actually shivers and glances around anxiously. They're my friends, though... yes? We can't say. You can no more believe us than them. Your body, your senses, your memories, your thoughts - all can and have been changed and can be changed again. There is nothing you can trust. There is nothing you can depend on. Nothing is real.You are at their mercy. Unless you wake up. Chloe frowns and instinctually goes to resettle her lovely blonde ringlets on her fragile little shoulders. She doesn't look at Chloe. "Lindsay was blond, you know. But you're much nicer than she was. She was my best friend, and she betrayed me, and I loved her still, but I won in the end... I'm a bad person to cross. Connie was blond, too. But -she-" she sighs. Chloe looks greatly alarmed and pulls a chair over to keep close to her, hands gripped to the seat back. "A bad person.. she what?" "I could never beat her. They all loved her. Golden beauty. Any cause she supported would win. Anyone who disliked her would lose. And I couldn't help it, I loved her too... I wanted so much for her to like me. I wanted something terrible to happen to her so I could save her... but she's gone now." She still isn't looking at Chloe, and seems completely unaware of the reaction this is getting. "You loved her and wanted something terrible to happen to her? That doesn't sound like loving her!" "I was young and passionate. Didn't you ever have those morbid fantasies? To drown so that someone you loved might rescue you? To die tragically and be revered as a hero? I wanted to do something for her, but I had nothing to give..." "Gegi... Gegi, what happened to her?" She looks very nervous, wits finally pulling through that something is amiss. "She graduated. Went to college in New York. Is studying acting. Doing fine the last time I saw her. Perfectly happy." Her tone has completely changed and is now light and cheerful. She looks up at Chloe and seems surprised. "Good heavens, you didn't think I'd -do- anything to her, did you? It's hard enough for me to say an unkind word about her!" And they speak of the Dark Lady. "It wasn't your fault. You did the best you could." Somehow there is the vaguest implication that her best wasn't very much. "No, it was very foolish and irrational, I should have listened to you all. I understand that now.." "Be careful with what you think you understand." She looks at Astarial and the floating crystal. She follows her gaze and says, "I don't even pretend to understand that. But I've made a choice, and I don't choose her.." "Choose yourself." They speak of the fight that might have been. "I just - react badly, sometimes, if I feel threatened. You didn't get that close to me, luckily. I might have hurt you, otherwise." Chloe nods warily. "Luckily." "I would be very upset if that had happened." Still the curiously intense but glazed expression. She nods emphatically, "As would I, trust me." "I do. Do you?" She nods, though it conveys a sense of unsureness. Gegi tilts her head and says in a sing-song way. "Do's and don'ts and don'ts and do's, which one, which one, will I choose..." They will cluster at your knee and beg for the stories of the great Lady Chloe and her adventures, how she found the magic within herself, how she traveled to faraway lands, how she rescued her prince and how they loved... and how beautiful she was, and how brave! It is time for the beginning to end, and for you to move on... come with me! Not allowed to go with strangers... But you know me... Not allowed to go where my prince is... But you're stronger now... Am I allowed to move? No... Defensively, Alice to the Jabberwocky, "I'm not afraid of you." Sure, she has to be honest with others, but that doesn't mean she has to be honest with herself. She reaches out her hand to touch Chloe's cheek. Just the barest brushing of fingertips, a soft caress. Her eyes, blue, wide (Benefits of being farsighted. The glasses magnify.), pleading. "Aren't you?" Her voice, quiet, melodic, sorrowful... You know that dont-want-to-want-to-cringe we discussed? She provides a wonderful visual demonstration, suppressed trembling and all. "Should I be?" Her fingers slide downward a bit, resting under her chin. She seems to be just a bit too close for comfort. "Yes, pretty one," she whispers. "You should be." She winces, then, her eyes closing, her fingers slipping away. Well, congratulations, you've just upped your cruel, manipulating and insensitive factor.. I resent that. I am very sensitive. It helps me know just where to stab. Ok, just replace insensitive with sadistic. Happy now? I'll agree with the sentiment, but I wouldn't say I'm happy. Why don't you come with me, little girl, on a magic carpet ride? I'm not a little girl I'm not convinced of that. Why don't you show me? Not ready to be a lady... no longer a little girl... What's a girl to do? You have to grow up sometime. Company helps. We are the same age, aren't we? I don't think I want to go where you're going... You might like it. I don't think I have the fare for the toll booth... Oh, I think you do. 2 From nearby, Watcher has been watching his pretty one, red eyes flicking from Chloe to Gegi, clearly having trouble taking it all in. Oddly, he seems to follow the mental conversations best, and whatever he hears appears to have disturbed him. "Yes yes yes her _she_ yes." He shakes his head, muttering to himself. "She did it pretty little ones watching touch love and tearing. Pain. Good very very very yes oh lots lots lots power. Wrong bad not not not so so good?" Watcher blinks at Rowan. "Good bad good bad good bad bad..." His voice trails off. Step away from them. Let go of all the hands you're holding. Walk over the edge. Do you think you can fly? You can. Here, take these broken wings And heal them. Make them grow beautiful. You can. We can. I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much. Keeping your feet on the ground will never save the childlike empress. Watcher hops from foot to foot, claws quietly scratching on the wooden floor. He is staring at Gegi, eyes wide. Not allowed to go with strangers... But you know me... I beg to differ... Nonsense. You know me better than the others. You know what I'm hiding. I know that you're hiding. I don't know what you're hiding. There are no demons in my head. There's only me. "Down and round and down and round and down down down down..." Watcher's gaze is still fixed on Gegi, his expression shifting rapidly between suspicion, anger and adoration. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down Not allowed to go where my prince is... But you're stronger now... Ok, rephrase, I don't want to go where my prince is... Surely we can find you a true love to rescue that you would want to? Really, I'm more of a rescuee than a rescuer... But you /don't have to be/. That's what we're trying to tell you. You can be strong, too. Strong, beautiful, kind, noble, Lady Chloe... There is nothing you can do. There can be. Strength has many forms, many I do not wish. It hurts less when you're weak. It's just an excuse. You think there's nothing you can do, so you sit back and do nothing. If they hurt you, it isn't -your- fault. Not sweet innocent harmless you. Not your fault. If they hurt someone else, it isn't your fault. What could you have done to prevent it? You're just a little girl, after all. There was nothing you could have done to save him. I don't do nothing. I do what I can. If they hurt someone else, I feel really badly. Occasionally, I'll even do something foolish... to help them. I whimpered and screamed for him. How helpful. "You loved her and wanted something terrible to happen to her? That doesn't sound like loving her!" "I was young and passionate. Didn't you ever have those morbid fantasies? To drown so that someone you loved might rescue you?" Chloe shudders, a flash of sheer terror in her eyes. Firmly, "No.." "Drowning and heart attacks are always the favorites, really, because there's the resuscitation factor... I've never been a lifeguard, I don't know if people really -try- it." She scowls, as if this is a personal attack (isn't it all, though). "Gegi, you know I can't stand the water." "Huh?" she says, confused. And of the dream "To die tragically and be revered as a hero? I wanted to do something for her, but I had nothing to give..." says Gegi. "You had your friendship, that should be enough for a friend." "Friends? Connie was -never- my friend. She had no time for a little nothing like me. I had nothing for her." She looks at her sympathetically. "It sounds like she had nothing for you either." "She was pretty, and popular, and an actress, she got all the best roles, and then she started writing, which was -my- field..." She looks up at Chloe and seems surprised. "Good heavens, you didn't think I'd -do- anything to her, did you? It's hard enough for me to say an unkind word about her!" She jumps a bit, guilty child, "No, of course not! Of course not, Gegi!" And now the words are playful, but with an edge, "What kind of monster do you think I am?" "I *don't* think you're a monster, really I don't. I'm sorry if you thought that, I don't!" Gegi just shakes her head, smiling. You know that dont-want-to-want-to-cringe we discussed? Chloe provides a wonderful visual demonstration, suppressed trembling and all. "Should I be?" Her fingers slide downward a bit, resting under her chin. She seems to be just a bit too close for comfort. "Yes, pretty one," she whispers. "You should be." Chloe visibly cringes and steps back from her, pushing away her hand. "Stop it, Gegi..." "I thought you said you weren't afraid..." Her voice now shaking too, she wraps her arms around herself tightly, "You're doing this on purpose" She steps in, purposefully violating personal space restrictions, eyes frightening. "Of course I am." Gegi winces, then, her eyes closing. She opens her eyes, looking pained. "Make me, stop me, I can't..." "Gegi... you can..." "Only if I /want/ to. And I don't." The voice is harder-edged now. Chloe shrinks back, just her torso and head, moving only one foot half a step for balance. Desperately, "I want you to, doesn't that count for anything?" "You want me to stop? Make me. Do it." It's an art, my dear. Let me guess. You would have explained this all earlier, but you were more interested in seeing how perceptive I really am? Of course. And we're very proud of you. Now step inside and you will understand. Enter of your own free will. Or we will grab you by your pretty blond hair and drag you down with us. That doesn't sound like the free will I heard about. I want a refund. Take the tabs in to the Thing in charge, then. I've heard *e can be generous. The one that's round and down? Oh, and please don't ruin my hair. It curls so softly, so nicely, the ribbon set so straight... don't you like my hair, Gegi? <*incoherent frothings of anger*> 3 With a sudden wild flapping of bat wings, Watcher is in the air between them, shrieking with rage. "Not not not not _not_ NOT!" Watcher's red eyes are almost glowing and he snaps his beak at Gegi's face, not touching, but close enough for her to feel the air move. For a moment, he manages to hover there, glaring. Gegi jumps backward, startled. He starts to lose control. Backwinging frantically, Watcher lands on Chloe's shoulder. His wings flail about her head as he tries to balance without scratching Chloe through her thin dress, and while still shrieking at Gegi. "NOT your yours you yours pretty one not no never not. ME I MINE yes to watch she her lonely lady yes she her said told to watch another other nother yes could can could CAN." "Not mine! Watch her, you, yes! Let me go!" Breathing heavily, Watcher snakes his head forward, sharp beak snapping. "Nasssty nasssty nassssssty," he hisses. "One of _them_ yes yes I see hear see feel tassste it you them THEM! "I am -not-!" "Go go go AWAY!" She raises her arms, crossing them in the air between her and Watcher, and backs away carefully. But it was already too late. Memories flow into Chloe's mind. For a moment, at least, they seem to be hers, completely real. Standing in a dark alleyway. Night. The smell of garbage, vomit, spilled liquor. There is a horrible /thing/ there. Black. Red eyes. Widespread batlike wings. Vicious claws. Tentacles hanging down beneath it. The sense of pressing evil. It's ripping into a man, tearing him apart. You try to scream, but you are completely frozen with terror. It's going to kill him. It's going to kill you all. Huddling on wet grass in pitch blackness. Fire flashes overhead. It's there, and you can't even see it to fight it. Don't-move-don't-think-please-let-this-be-a-nightmare.... Standing in front of an open coffin. A teenage girl inside of it. Brown hair. Pale. In a blue velvet dress. Horror-shame-guilt-despair-longing. Wanting to kiss her cold, quiet hand. Walking away, fighting hard to hold yourself in check. Then, once you are alone, falling to the ground, screaming. Weeping. A girl, blond, in a white dress, standing at a podium. Anger. Wanting to hurt her. Wanting to make her suffer. Wanting to hear her scream. Being in the Pub. Watching your body move without your consent. Watching your own hands throw fire at your friends. Seeing them fall to the ground, wounded, and screaming helplessly with rage and pain as the monster uses you to toy with them. You are standing in a green forest with a man who has blond hair and pointed ears. "Would it be possible for me to work magic?" you say. "Perhaps. Would you be willing to sell your soul for it?" You laugh. "To you? I don't think so!" He looks at you. "Would you then be willing to kill one of the mortals you have been traveling with? Even one would be enough, but the more taken, the more power you could receive." Running into a bathroom and slamming and locking the door behind you. Crying beside the toilet. Great shaking sobs, as you swear that you will make him /pay/. He's laughing at you. He's taking your dream and making fun of it. How dare he? You look over to the fireplace. There is a small red imp there. You stretch out your hand to it, ready to bargain. You /will have/ the power. A vision of the most terrifyingly distorted crawling blackness. Only a vague thought, because you know that if you think about it, it will turn your mind inside out. But you can't forget it. Space time compressed gibbering. Repulsive. Compelling. Don't think about it. You must not think about it. Grabbing hold of your necklace and wishing with all of your might and feeling the power rushing through you, setting you free. 4 "Please... stop this, please!" Chloe begs. "Stop what?" Chloe winces, and the wince doesn't seem to stop, emotions pulling her expression in all different directions with too rapid speed. Confusion... horror. Whispered plea, "I didn't turn down this road..." She twists her body in odd, restrained directions, like a child lost in her own shirt. "No, please..." Her breathing is extremely unnaturally baited and irregular, her heartbeat probably four times faster than acceptable. Things quiet down. But don't improve. Blinking back tears, so nobly, her head moving in odd, little spurts, random directions. She covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream. Confusion... anger... guilt. "I don't, really... not me." Glancing wildly about the pub, probably not really seeing anything, she offers a defense, a plea not guilty, "I didn't do it! I wouldn't! I couldn't!" Settle down, just confusion again, then panic quickly. "No gift is worth that!" Breathe. "Yes, yes, repent. No!" In French, calmly, Gegi speaks. "I didn't do it either." Chloe grabs violently at her own bare neck, reddening the skin quickly, searching for something that's not there. Her knees look about ready to give, she steadies herself with one hand on a chair and covers her eyes with her other hand. She gasps in breaths too big for her lungs, coughs them out. "Not mine, not my fault. Why are you doing this to me, Gegi? I'm sorry..." "Showing you the truth. You wanted to know." 5 Chloe winces, and the wince doesn't seem to stop, emotions pulling her expression in all different directions with too rapid speed. Confusion... horror. Whispered plea, "I didn't turn down this road..." She twists her body in odd, restrained directions, like a child lost in her own shirt. "No, please..." Astarial, who had been standing by listening to this conversation from a distance but saying nothing, scents the Mind magic and watches in increasing alarm... Watcher, flapping wildly to keep his balance, hisses at Gegi and makes another snap in her direction. This time, he seems to fully intend to hurt her, but at the last moment, Chloe's twisting carries him away and he barely touches Gegi's cheek. She squeaks and raises an arm to shield her face. (At least the glasses protect the eyes a /little/...) "Nasssty nassssty nasssty!" Chloe's breathing is extremely unnaturally baited and irregular, her heartbeat probably four times faster than acceptable. Things quiet down. But don't improve. Blinking back tears, so nobly, her head moving in odd, little spurts, random directions. She covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream. Confusion... anger... guilt. "I don't, really... not me." ...Finally giving voice to the suspicion that has nagged at him for a long time, he shouts at Gegi: "What have you done, *widderslainte*? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?" Gegi jumps backwards, her eyes going sane again. "Widderslainte? What's a widderslainte? I didn't..." Chloe's knees look about ready to give, she steadies herself with one hand on a chair and covers her eyes with her other hand. She gasps in breaths too big for her lungs, coughs them out. "Not mine, not my fault. Why are you doing this to me, Gegi? I'm sorry..." "No not no never pretty one not not not she her your pretty fault never no." Watcher is still trying to crane his neck round to peer into Chloe's face. "Can't no not pretty one no never faults. _Never_." "Oh, yeah, right," Gegi manages, scared/angry/defensive. Illyana whirls on Gegi, her one hand raised, skin starting to ripple, three claws burst from under the skin, the metal-like substance gleaming in the light. "What are you doing to her! Stop it or you die, now." This threat might have more impact if she was speaking English, and not Russian. Her other hand rests on her sword. Gegi jumps backwards again, stumbling and falling to her knees. She raises her hands in surrender, looking terrified. "I don't understand!" Astarial tries his best to get Chloe to sit down, and to calm and soothe her, but unfortunately, his best isn't very good at the moment. Having done the best he can, he turns to Gegi. His face is grim... She backs rapidly away, stumbling into chairs in the process, terrified, about to burst into tears, then drops to the ground, huddling in a little ball, arms over head. Balinok, Illyana's long-haired male companion, comes up behind Gegi, resting his large hand on her shoulder. "Child, stop this now." His voice is commanding, but not quite threatening. She looks up at him but can't seem to say anything, choking on her fear. Her cringing posture indicates that she expects to be beaten severely and can't/won't do a thing to stop it. Watcher looks up briefly. "Nasty!" he snaps, before turning back to Chloe. Gegi covers her face and cries. 6 The bane hisses again, snapping in her direction but no longer actually lunging forwards. She quickly sends, <* You and I, alike, yes? See her, pretty, want her, watch her, help her, keep her safe. Give her to them, yes, no, not give her! Feel her scream, pretty, pain, no, no, not hurt her! Same problem, no? *> The bane croaks mournfully at her, and ceases his attack. And then the other threats register. Gegi backs rapidly away, stumbling into chairs in the process, terrified, about to burst into tears, then drops to the ground, huddling in a little ball, arms over head. Garret moves quietly over, and drops to his knees next to her. Tentatively, he touches her hair. She flinches at first, expecting to be struck. An aura of calm descends over both of them like a warm, soft cloak. He can sense her relaxing, leaning into him. Garret is here. Garret will protect her. It's all right. He clears his throat and begins to sing a lullaby in welsh, one that Rhiannon taught him. His voice is smooth and mellow, almost hypnotic. If Astarial comes anywhere near them, Garret looks up and shakes his head at him imperatively, never interrupting his song. He stares off into the distance if left alone, singing steadily and looking thoughtful. Eventually she raises her head and smile at him weakly. He half-smiles in return. His lullabye comes to an end. "How do you feel?" he asks softly. His voice is kind, but his face is very serious. She sighs. "Stupid. Frustrated. Mad at myself. I shouldn't have done that." The nearby Astarial approaches, but maintains enough distance to give the appearance, at least, of not being a threat. "I would pray forgiveness, m'lady. It seems I was mistaken in my conjecture. Be assured, I mean no harm to you - my word on it. But..." She looks at him, remembering. "What was that word you used, anyway? What did you mean?" Astarial might look embarrassed, if his face wasn't already fully occupied in trying to express concern and suspicion in like proportions. "Widderslainte? It's, ah... a term used to refer to those who carry some taint on their souls over from a previous incarnation." Balinok looks at her with icy calm, "Child, you are hurting her. Stop it, or I will." She gulps. "I didn't hurt her. I just showed her... what I was feeling." "You didn't *intend* to hurt her, Gegi. But you did." says Garret gently. "I didn't mean" Illyana calms herself with effort. "No make me choose between you and Chloe," She growls, her accent thicker and her English degrading, "You not like result." She looks at Illyana, changing from fear to sadness. "Where would you be, if not for him?" It is clear that she means Balinok. Garret speaks again. "Threatening her does no good at all. Apprentice mages often make horrid mistakes until they understand the extent of their powers. Right now, Gegi is much like a small child trying to handle a high-powered rifle. And no, I'm not saying this to make you feel badly, Gegi. If anything, I was worse when I first woke up." It's clear that this speech of Garret's took her completely by surprise. There are many things she does not say. I didn't hurt her. I only let her feel how I feel, for a moment. If it hurts her, think how it hurts me? It wasn't what I did, it was why I did it. I -did- mean to hurt her. It wasn't an accident. I don't /want/ to want to hurt her. What kind of monster am I? Why did I do that? "Help me," is all she says, quietly. Garret sighs heavily. It's not clear, but he may have caught and understood some of the things she *didn't* say. "Show me, then. Help me understand. Show me why. Deep down, you *do* know." She shudders. "I don't know. I don't know. Everywhere I dig I find more and more." "I wasn't thinking. That's all I can use to explain it. I work by intuition so much, you see. When an action hits me it pulls me along and I don't break it. I don't think about it. I just do it. Not quite conscious. Like being lost, and very very dimly realizing that you're lost, and dimly aware that your feet are moving, but not really thinking about what you're doing until you're back somewhere you know again. My instincts pull me out of bad situations. But /sometimes/ I end up doing something like that. Something utterly stupid that if I'd been using my head I wouldn't have done. It's very hard to explain, and it still doesn't answer why, only how..." "You have the answers. If you don't figure out what stimulus led you to do what you did, then you could do it again at any time. You are magi. You cannot afford ignorance any more." "But can I afford the knowledge? 7 <* [strained] And if he begged forgiveness, and truly meant it? What then? *> <* Words. Only words. Anyone can claim regret, and who would not beg forgiveness at the point of an avenger's blade? *> She winces, clearly unable to keep up the mental conversation. "There are some. Sometimes you almost feel more drawn to the ones who will not repent. At least they are strong in their faith." He raises an eyebrow. "Drawn to them? Hardly! Strong or weak, all such filth must die, for the protection of the innocent and the good of All." "I mean that one can find more to admire in the fallen noble. Sometimes you have to fight your enemy, but you don't have to hate him. It's hard to say what is "evil"... for so many people, evil is any set of values other than their own. The Technocrats aren't evil, although I think they may be my enemies. They're just... different. Demon or angel, sometimes the lines are not where we think... But this is not such a case. It would be difficult indeed to have done such thinking you were doing the right thing. For her." "It is fairly hard to ravage someone's mind in such a manner and still believe that one is doing right, yes." "What if one proffered an apology without first being threatened? What if he came seeking to explain?" "We have a saying in the Empire: 'When an enemy would embrace you, beware the knife in his hand!' Unless he would prove his intention in some incontrovertible way, he would hardly be in a position to claim trust or forbearance." "How would you be satisfied that an apology was true? What could prove it to you?" <* If he were to do some deed that showed his sincere regret and in some part redressed his fault, that might perhaps make a difference. But words alone are cheap from a treacher's tongue. *> "True. More than words are necessary. But revenge heals nothing..." "It prevents him from doing any harm in the future, does calm the anger of the harmed, and serves the ends of justice." "It prevents him from doing harm, perhaps, but leads you and all others involved one step closer to becoming him. The cycle of hate must -end-, or there can be no peace." <* [more normal voice] Besides, I might not be there when he returns for her. This is the only way to be sure he causes her no further harm... as the terms of my oath and duty demand. *> "There are no ways to be sure." "The Rite of Eternal Oblivion, remember? The one that destroys souls? I can guarantee absolutely nothing ever comes back from that." She shudders. "I don't care -how- evil someone is. Destroying them is wrong." 8 Kinda like an acid trip you'd take in '69 When it was stronger : The jukebox starts to play. And Shelley dances around the room, spinning, accompanying the song. Michael, seated at table, talking to the air and to the bottle, starts to hum along himself, perhaps without realising at all. Shelley starts to sing, young, innocent, fragile, yet knowing exactly what it is she sings, what she does. "Hey ah na na I suspend my sorrow Hey ah na na Sorrow" Michael chooses this moment to down another drink. It burns as it goes down, it goes as it burns down. And Gegi, sitting, blank, cries, not sure why anymore. And as the music fades out (like all the colours of the world) Shelley leans forward and brushes her cheek (soft) against that of her dancing partner. It won't be long. It won't belong. It won't be. Gegi looks over to the bar. "Pad- Rowan? Do you have, could you, I don't..." and stops, not knowing what to ask for. She curls over. B flat. The note of the not-song-not-hum sound escaping her. Hurts. And as the music stops he seems to come back out of himself, to return from introspection, and he hears another sound. Grief etched on his eyes. He holds her hand (permission he's been granted) and gently brushes the top, smoothing away the pain. She stills at his touch. Gentling. Relax. He hums a different song, soft, relaxing, a solid foundation free from fear, overlaid with softer words, "Shhhh... Georgina? It's alright now, it's gonna be fine..." She looks up at him, and can find nothing to say. Too locked up inside to manage even gratitude. It won't be well, it might be. The saddest words, it might have been Don't let go. And Michael doesn't, soft voice whispering comfort, soft touch confirming external presence, soft eyes echoing pain. His pain is her pain is his pain... recycling? He holds her close. And eventually, she manages to smile. How do you put up with me? "The darkness that he. . . I'll never really be free of it, will I? What do you see, when you look into. . . that?" It might have been worse. We, we are the lucky ones. 9 He shakes his head. "And this is not what I meant about showing me." "I... what did you mean?" She fiddles with her hands nervously. "You don't want to look inside. You saw what just a brief glimpse did to her. I can hold it, kind of. I'm used to it. But..." "She's a young girl. I'm a wizard with ten years worth of experience in mind magick." She waves a hand about her head. "It's all quiet in there at the moment, anyway. I'm clear. Right now. When I'm mad..." She struggles, wanting his help but finding it difficult to talk about. "I would be ashamed. For you to see how I think." "You are magi. You cannot afford ignorance any more." "But can I afford the knowledge? Garret, what I did, what I wanted to do, what I have done before, was /wrong/. I know that. But nothing made me do it. I did it." She looks over and sees Chloe (assumably still nearby), and switches to silent communication, although it's clearly painful. <* I wanted to hurt her because she was blond and pretty and well-liked. But more and worse because she was so innocent, helpless. Like a child. She's just a little girl. And some part of me was choosing to abuse a /child/. Someone harmless and defenseless. I wanted to frighten her, to destroy her innocence. /Why/? Even now, looking at her whimpering like that, I want to slap her... *> She breaks off, holding her head. "But at the same time if anything came after her I would defend her, risk myself to save her. If she were hurt I would heal her." "The only obvious answer is that I really am a sick, twisted monster who gets off on the pain of others. Especially dependents." "No. I think not. I know what being a monster truly is." "I was inside the mind of a demon. And you are a good man." She looks at him and whispers, pained, "But why?" He looks grave. **Anger. Jealousy. She's innocent, and you aren't. I think, Gegi, you may have some self-esteem issues. You seem so badly to want to be someone other than yourself. You seem so afraid that none of us really cares about you.** She looks down, discovers that her nails are cutting into her skin, and relaxes her hands. He sighs heavily and brushes his hand across his forehead. **Is it her that you really hate, or is it you?** She smiles a little. "Hate is such a strong word." and looks away. "Acting improperly and forcing other people to act out the punishment I feel I deserve. Which, of course, only reinforces my belief that I'm a manipulative little bitch, increasing the guilt, and round we go again." She looks at him again. "It's possible. It sounds like something I might do to myself." 10 "Go away!" Watcher snaps again. "Hurt pain me I my pretty one." "I go. You keep her. I don't want her." "Never never _never_ hurt take her. Saw hear feel her it you _them_ you yes. Dark tear fear scream kill cold wet fear fire dead pain hate hate hate pretty one burn her them power _him_ power pain fire dark power pain. Nassssty nasty one of _them_." "I am -not-. I'm like you." Watcher gives Gegi a hard look then nods approvingly. "Pretty lovely precious _perfect_ pretty one," he croons to Chloe. Gegi glares, but says nothing. Chloe looks in confusion at Watcher as his flapping throws her hair around. Even under such disturbance, her golden ringlets fly gracefully through the air. Watcher starts slightly, then frowns. "Nasty nasty nasssty one she her one of _them_ hurt pretty one. Pretty one hurt broken very very messed yes. He did before? She her nasty one did before? no _now_ yes. Dark blood death scream tear wet fire fear hate pretty one hurt death _him_ power red yes dark power pain. Tasted. Hurt pretty one. Nassssssty one of _them_." He gives the sobbing Gegi a dark look. "Nassty nasty tricks to trick lie the dark one. Hurt him perhaps?" He looks at Garret comforting Gegi them gives an evil chuckle. "Hurt the dark one yes perhaps but but but blood drinker not no _not_ never like happy let allow no no no. Punish." "I'm not. I'm not. Oh God, I am, I can't." She shakes. "I can't let go. I'm going to destroy you all. I -will- do it. God! You'll keep forgiving me and I'll work my way deeper until I've unraveled every last bit and I will weep for you when you are gone but it won't do any bloody good, will it? I won't mean to, but it will happen, and when you're all gone I'll take myself with you." Kao-liang shrugs elegantly. "Everyone dies, eventually," he says, sounding unworried by it, and not particularly caring about Gegi's histrionics. "Though personally I'd prefer it if you didn't bother telling me about it - it was quite dull the third time I heard it, and it hasn't gotten any more interesting since then." She looks around, wild-eyed. "Please believe me, I'll be the end of you, I will! Don't pity me. Don't let me get to you. I will take you apart. I love you all, I'll have to destroy you. I take and I twist and I feed and I'll leave nothing behind and I won't remember saying this and I won't know that I meant it and I'll take you down slowly and I won't mean it but I will do it and I won't be able to put it together again. You can't let me stay!" She curls back over again, with something between a yell and a high d. Rather amused, he pitches his voice to cut between her wailing, "Well, if you were serious about not wanting to be forgiven, it would help if you stopped being so damned self-pitying. I'd hate to get taken and twisted and fed upon by a wet blanket - I've changed too many diapers for that to be something I'd want to look forward too." Her body jerks once, like a sudden shudder running through it. The crying stops. She is still. Garret sighs heavily. "Gegi! Stop it. That's enough. Kao-Liang's not being particularly kind, but he's got a point." "Ears, teeth, he has lots of them, no?" she mumbles, face still hidden, voice remarkably clear for all the wailing she had just been doing. He looks surprised, and laughs in spite of himself. "I don't think I'll ever really understand you, Gegi," he says, smiling slightly. "I work hard to achieve that effect." He squats down next to her. "Whatever you are, you are. If you don't like it, you alone have to power to change it. And don't talk to me about how dangerous you are to us. You have no conception of some of the things I've been through, and I hope you never do." "I want to care about you, goddamn it." "Want to?" "Yes, want to. You have to let me." "I'm not stopping you..." "But it's an uphill battle if you don't care about yourself." She raises her head. Her face is reddened from the crying, but her eyes are focused. "I do care about myself. The confusing part is how they spend your childhood years telling you to be meek and humble and what a horrible thing pride is, and then once you're a teenager start telling you that you need to be assertive and have self-esteem. I believe in my own worth, I just don't think that others do, and I don't know how to present myself to them." She laughs, just a little. "I'm crazy, you know." "Gegi, who gives a crap what anyone else thinks?" Quietly, "Me?" "Then you're in for a lot of heartache. People will either believe that you're a worthy person or they won't. Worrying about presentation is what's driving you nuts. Acorrding to most people, I'm a sociopathic murderer with a god complex." He shrugs. "Maybe they're right. Who knows? More importantly, who cares?" "I need other people... what's the good of being alone?" "There are people out there who will like you for what you are. Stop trying to make yourself safe by driving us away. It's just flat stupid, and selfish to boot." "Selfish how?" He sighs in exasperation and sits down. "It's selfish because when you push us away, you're only thinking of yourself. How do you think we feel...*I* feel...when you won't let me help? When you won't let *me* judge what I think is too dangerous for me? Not to mention how offensive it is to have you assume on my behalf that whatever gets dished out because of our friendship, I can't handle." She looks down with an embarassed half-smile. "Sorry." "You can't take responsibility for everyone around you. If we get involved, it's because we want to be. And we accept the risks." He blinks and cocks his head suddenly. "Which is exactly what Rhiannon keeps telling me. So maybe in a way, we have the same problem." She looks up again. "I could be extremely self-pitying and point out that at least you have someone who loves you, but I think I'll refrain." And then she catches sight of herself elsewhere, holding hands with Michael Edge, and smiles slightly, and looks down. He makes a sour face. "And what about the seven years I spent alone, after Joseph died and before I met Rhiannon? You try losing your lover of three years to a HIT Mark, and then come talk to me about being alone. I love Rhiannon dearly, and I would walk barefoot over flaming coals for her, but I am the man that I am. There are certain things about myself I don't care to change, not even for her. Not that she would ask me. Love is about accepting people, not making them into something you want them to be. Love from others comes after you've become comfortable with you. Not before." "I am comfortable with me... except for the violent madness part. And even that, I don't want to be 'cured'... just toned down a little. Safe." 11 "Selfish how?" Gegi asks. "Believing your actions determine the fate of everyone else could be considered selfish, since the logical corollary is therefore that your needs are more important than anyone else's," Kao-liang comments. She scrubs at her face, trying to regain some dignity. "Believing my actions to determine other people's fate is certainly egocentric, but I'm not quite seeing your logic connecting that to the importance of my needs. And what I was questioning of him was how acting to drive people away from me is a selfish act. I would think that would only apply if I were a rare treasure that I would be thus depriving them of." She smiles tentatively. "Have you ever tried laughing at yourself, instead of taking yourself so damned seriously all the time? If you can make a rather good joke at my expense when you're supposedly falling apart, that doesn't indicate that you have no talent at it." Apologetically, "I react badly when I feel threatened." Rather impatiently, "Ever wonder why people have a sense of humor? Laughing at something is one of the best ways ever invented of snapping yourself out of despair and actually getting something done, or figuring out if something needs to be done in the first place. If a situation looks hopeless, find something to laugh at. The situation doesn't change, but it will be put into proportion, and at least it gets you out of your funk. "Laugh in the face of certain death. It confuses your enemies." "There are people out there who will like you for what you are," says Garret. She smiles. "They make themselves scarce, malheureusement." "There's no need or reason to worry about making the rest of them happy." He looks exasperated. "Gegi, you've talked to me about joining the Ecstatics. Do you realize that if you do that, you are going to do things routinely that will shock and horrify others?" "But not that would shock and horrify -them-, right? I don't need to be mainstream. I wouldn't want it if I could have it. But I want a -little- backup... I came from a damned snobbish society school and ended up in a college full of -normals-. I was desperate enough for a group to run with that I ended up with demon-worshipping goths... is it bad of me to want just a little affirmation?" She smiles. "Let's face it, ritual sex and hashish are not exactly mainstream. If you want to follow your dreams, then you're going to *have* to give up this fixation on what other people think of you." She looks slightly uncomfortable at the mention of sex and drugs. "I have... some inhibitions to work through. But isn't that what ascension's all about?" An expression of shock and horror (or revulsion, at the least) floats on cue across the watching Astarial's face. Gegi blows him a kiss with a grin. He shrugs one shoulder. "S'ok. I was like that a while ago, too. The question is, what are you going to *do* about it?" She shakes her head. "I need to try and find a way to control the nastier instincts in me. I can psychoanalyze the hell out of everything I've ever done, but understanding it doesn't seem to keep me from doing it. Throwing fits, attacking people like Chloe..." 12 "No not no never pretty one not not not she her your pretty fault never no." Watcher is still trying to crane his neck round to peer into Chloe's face. "Can't no not pretty one no never faults. _Never_." Chloe stares at him. "Look? Not my fault? I didn't hurt you, I didn't hurt them... I tried to help them all, I wish I could... so big, so little I couldn't... jamais..." A tear-stained but not shrieking Gegi fills in, "I didn't hurt you, I didn't hurt them, I couldn't, I wouldn't, I tried to help them all, I wanted to help them all, but I am so small and so many monsters..." She looks at Gegi, and if it weren't such a shaky breathy voice, it could almost be considered haughty. But alas, she just barely manages normal level of sound, "You mock me, how -I- feel, what -I- think?" "Mock? No. Empathize? Yes. I -feel- as you -feel-. My mind. I did not hurt you. I did not harm my friends. I did not take the demon's bargain. I wanted to badly to help, to heal, but /she died anyway/. There was -nothing- I could do. To save Becky from disease, to save Jon from the demon's attack, anything. What good was I to them? Not a scientist, not a fighter, not a trained psychologist, just a little dreamer girl. So much gone wrong in the world and I don't know how to help. Didn't know." As yet unshed tears sparkle on Chloe's lashes, "Am I to be sacrificed?" "Not by me, I could not hurt you..." I would if I could but I can't, so I won't? Chloe seems to think so. "Why can't you leave me alone?" Gegi whines. Astarial tries his best to get Chloe to sit down, and to calm and soothe her, but unfortunately, his best isn't very good at the moment. It's a little harder when you can't just project calmness, now isn't it? What, you want me to? Gegi doesn't have any calmness to send at the moment, but Chloe can possibly feel her on the edge of her awareness, sorry-sorrow-mildpain-smallfear-regret-longing-wanttohelp-heal-sendstrength. Or she can block it out, we're not pushing... Don't block, you'll be punished sooner or later. But she doesn't have to believe it either. Damn manipulative little mages. She looks at her, shaking her head in angered disbelief. (She isn't purposefully sending, she doesn't realize, her hurt grows stronger. She only showed you the truth.) Chloe drops into the chair, shrinking inwards as if to make herself take up as little room as possible. She puts her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, fingers digging into her scalp and palms squeezing her temples. "If she wishes me harm, let her hit me, beat me, lash.. I don't care, stay out of my head!" "I'm sorry," Gegi whispers. "You knew." "Knew -what-?!? You wanted to see, you wanted answers, I gave them!" Watcher looks up briefly. "Nasty!" he snaps, before turning back to Chloe. Chloe now looks up to and for a few moments watches Garret and the other Astarial tend to Gegi, her eyes going from horror and fear to betrayal and confusion. "Why she's just a bully, frightening when it pleases her, frightened when it pleases her." Gegi's head snaps up. "Just a bully?" For a moment anger might have tried to flicker, but it didn't seem to take. "Non. Pas du tout. Just a little girl with a dark heart. You felt what I felt. I have that in my head and I /can't get rid of it./ It's part of me. If you had a little more anger in you, you could have made the same choices." From her safe distance with plenty of others between them, Chloe remarks firmly, but with eyes darting to avoid hers, "Never. That's not anger, that's... selfishness, inhumaneness. It's evil powermongering. And you wanted it." "Wanted it? -Wanted- it? Wanted that man to open up an abyss inside my mind that I can't remember and can't forget? Wanted the demons to come and try to kill my friends, wanted them to take -my- body and use -me- to get inside, to attack the others? Wanted to become such that Enedel and Astarial have suggested that I'll either die or be damned and I have no bloody choice about it? I wanted to live, dammit, I wanted to live! For just a moment my passions overwhelmed my thoughts and I considered taking that offer but -never- to harm my friends. To destroy myself, maybe, but what reason did I have to survive, anyway?" "I am who I am, and I am -not- a nice person. I told you that over and over again. I am -angry-. I will not lie down and give up. Selfish? You're damned right I am. Inhuman? I don't think so - I'm not a demon, I've been -in- them, I know how it feels. Evil? You tell me." Gegi laughs, quietly, bitterly. "Ye gods, I'm acting like my -father-." The accent on the word makes it abundantly clear how she feels about that individual. 13 An idea strikes Astarial. He produces a largish leatherbound book from the folds of his robe, and begins looking though it, evidently searching for something. After a short while, having found what he's looking for, he produces a piece of chalk and begins drawing out a complex design on the Pub floor. It's obviously a magic circle of some kind, being based roughly around a hexagon surrounding a hexagram, with the spaces filled with a complex network of geometric symbols, the entire complex forming a complete whole. As he draws and fills the runes, onlookers (except perhaps those familiar with the Spheres of Prime and Spirit) who look too closely will find that they can't actually see the runes clearly, as if reality itself was distorting as they are drawn. Several minutes later, when he has finished drawing the runes (which for some reason are now perfectly clear), he produces and sets out six candles, one at each corner of the diagram, and a broad stone bowl made from some form of green malachite, which he sets in the centre and fills with water from a flask. He holds his wrist over the bowl, and draws his stone dagger quickly over the veins of the inside, allowing a few drops of dark blood to drip into the water, tinting it slightly purple. And his voice whispers in Garret's ear: "I have an idea which might help. It's going to leave me pretty well exhausted afterwards, though, so I'd appreciate it if you kept an eye out." Garret looks up with interest, notes the ceremonial preparations. A brief look of irritation flashes across his face, then he shrugs and stands up, watching with interest. Without waiting for a reply, Astarial begins to gesture and sing an unsettling harmony of invocation. Inside the circle, something begins to take shape... Gegi looks at Garret. "What is he doing?" "It looks like a summoning, but it's also a manipulation of Maya, base reality. I'd say he's trying to attract something, offhand." He looks a tad irritated. "I hope he doesn't call up what he can't put down. I've already seen how unpredictable his magick is in this reality." "Well, he hasn't shown too much demon trouble... yet..." -Something- is forming. The dark tension of a thunderstorm, fire and water in air suspended, elemental force, a creature of flame. Power. Swirling like clouds, taking shape. The image ripples. Some of the runes near the inside of the circle flare up briefly, and disappear with a sharp crack. Astarial looks unnerved, but continues his song... The powerful-undefined-thing vanishes, to be replaced by a woman with long, wavy dark brown hair, in a blouse and long skirt, with a shawl tied around her waist, glowing a soft blue-green. She is recognizable as the spirit-woman who appeared briefly beside Gegi just after she broke through the barrier. Gegi looks up, her hand flying to her necklace. Her eyes widen. "Deanna..." she whispers. (And no, it's not a Troi lookalike, although there are certain vague resemblances.) Finishing his ritual, Astarial calls to Gegi, "Behold! See now your truest Self, and know why you are!"... then seems to wilt slightly, tired and faded. "My avatar..." she whispers, her face showing signs of joy/wonder/adoration. The woman smiles. **Hello, little one.** and turns calmly to Astarial, waiting. 14 Garret looks surprised, and laughs in spite of himself. "I don't think I'll ever really understand you, Gegi," he says, smiling slightly. "I work hard to achieve that effect." Frederic, who was silently listening to the exchange, smiles at that. "A worthy effort indeed, but it is quite in contradiction with your desire to have yourself accepted." "I'm forever contradictory. I suppose you could say that I prefer for people in general to find me "weird"... as it then leads me to the sort of people who appreciate "weird", whom I generally get along with fairly well." "Gegi, who gives a crap what anyone else thinks?" Quietly, "Me?" "You, indeed, but whose thoughts do you care about? To whom do you want to show this image of a worthy person?" Frederic asks. She shrugs. "People whom I like and respect. Many people here would count. I need other people... what's the good of being alone?" "Indeed, that's supposed to be one of the straightest paths to easy marauderhood. But you don't need just everybody's approval, you just have to choose whose approval you crave for, and go get it. You can't make everybody happy and content about you anyhow." She smiles. "I'm greedy." "But what's love got to do with it anyways?" "Love has everything to do with me." Garret is looking rather sadly at Gegi, shaking his head slightly. "What are -you- looking at?" she says, somewhat jokingly. "Someone with a lot of years ahead of her." "Maybe." "I don't envy you, Gegi." "I don't expect you would," she says, and is somehow sadder. And elsewhere, Gegi mentions her father to Chloe. Garret looks at them with a sudden flash of dark suspicion in his eyes. "Gegi, did you know your mother?" She blinks. "Huh? Yes. I lived with both parents until Dad left. I look a lot like her. Justine doesn't... I got too much of Dad's personality, though. Temper and melodrama." "Is she still alive?" "She was when I left Earth, at least... the world may or may not be coming to an end there, of course." Garret looks incredibly relieved, then starts looking worried again. Gegi continues. "Mother, father, one sister, younger. I'm the oldest in the generation as far as cousins go. Why?" "Something the Dark Lady said to me." She blinks. "Chloe and I are not sisters, and that lady bore no resemblance to my mother. Mom is no mage. Cursed, maybe, but not a mage in any reality I know of." She smiles. "Bad temper and melodramatic nature on one side, autism on the other - mother's brother - and Mom with unbelievably bad karma." Garret hunches over, brooding. "What if she weren't your real mother?" "You've never seen her. If she's not my real mother, someone has done an unbelievable job of genetic engineering... as I said, we look alike. Especially if I pull back my hair and take off my glasses. Not the -age-, obviously, but the same structure..." Gegi can feel a wash of life magick pass over her. Garret relaxes and looks immensely relieved. "Thank Shiva. for a moment I thought...well, never mind." She looks confused. "What were you thinking? If she had been my mother, me unknowing, what would it have mattered?" "A lot. A whole lot." He turns away. 15 Astarial offers Chloe a handkerchief. She smiles gently in thanks and dabs her eyes daintily. I wasn't going to cry, really I wasn't. Moving forward on the chair so she can curl to a safer position in his arm, facing him alone, she looks up at him and whispers, "There's no controlling her, though, she's all impulse, no rationale.." That's right, there's no controlling me... "Why she's just a bully, frightening when it pleases her, frightened when it pleases her." Quietly, Astarial speaks. "I doubt this'll be much comfort, but I don't think she's actually evil. More... insane. As if her mind had cracked. We have to do something for her; we can't just kill her out of hand, now can we? Remember, you have my oath." Earnestly, "Oh, I would never ever want to kill her, sir!" Aw. "I wouldn't want you to kill anyone, especially on my behalf." Obviously we haven't corrupted you far enough. "Do you still remember... what she did? Is there anything I can do?" Astarial asks. She nods to the first question, and, for the second, just rests her head against him. "She made me, forced me to think how she thought. And I don't. She would..." She gets that exaggerated concentrated look on her face, trying her best to mindsend the thought and the emotion behind it, up to him, though, to do most of the receiving, <*I _will_ have that power.*> "That's just a little bit of it, though. Is it very important that you know?" It might just be that she feels guilty, like she's betraying a secret of a friend, but that would be.. completely irrational. What do you know, she still cares... Sometimes, I'm almost ashamed of myself. And Gegi and Chloe argue through tears. "My mind. I did not hurt you. I did not harm my friends. I did not take the demon's bargain." "And the little man by the fireplace? You did! You lie! I could feel it." "I stretched out my hand to the imp in a moment of anger and jealousy and pain. I made no bargains. It tried to give me a gift, 'no strings attached'. The second I was back to my senses I got rid of it. Temporary insanity. Isn't that what you felt? I hate that I did that. If I could go back and run through the scene again with my /brain/ working, I wouldn't have done such a thing. That's what I was trying to tell you. I've done all of these nasty, stupid things, and I didn't want to, and I wish that I hadn't, but I can't change them. They're part of me." "I wanted to badly to help, to heal, but /she died anyway/. There was -nothing- I could do. To save Becky from disease, to save Jon from the demon's attack, anything. What good was I to them? Not a scientist, not a fighter, not a trained psychologist, just a little dreamer girl. So much gone wrong in the world and I don't know how to help. Didn't know." She closes her eyes briefly. Must...Stop...Being...Sympathetic. Ah, here's a way. "And the girl? The pretty girl on the podium? You did _NOT_ want to 'help' her, Gegi." "Overcome by the jealousy and the anger again. My madness is my shame. It -can- be my strength, when I can control it. Lindsay. I never hurt her. I hated her, sometimes - hate is the other side of love, isn't it? I didn't want to hate her. I don't hate her now. Sometimes I go out of my head. I don't want to. If anything had happened to Lindsay, even then, semi-hating her as I did, I would have done all I could to save her. I -did-, in smaller ways. When she was in trouble I dropped everything to help her out, even though I knew I would get no thanks for it, and my own chances would suffer." "What I showed you was my shame, Chloe. -That- is what I've been hiding. But I could not hurt you..." I would if I could but I can't, so I won't? Chloe seems to think so. "Why can't you leave me alone?" Gegi whines. She blinks. I didn't say anything! She looks around guiltily. "You're hurting me..." Gegi whispers. "You knew." "Knew -what-?!? You wanted to see, you wanted answers, I gave them!" "You knew... plenty of things. The water, was the first. Or perhaps Quentin was, I don't know. But you knew I didn't want that in my head. You knew it would hurt me." "Water?" She looks puzzled, then her eyes widen. "Oh, shit. Oh, Chloe, I'm so sorry, I had forgotten..." Chloe flinches a bit at the obscenity, there's no need for that, but nods in semi-begrudged acceptance of the apology. Gegi looks down, her face greatly frustrated. "I wanted to explain things to you, but I've only confused it more..." Chloe repeats the conversation, quietly, oddly detached, tilting her head back and forth between speakers: "Why are you afraid of me, little one?" "I'm not. Stop this, you're doing this on purpose." "I thought you weren't afraid." "Should I be?" "Yes, pretty one, you should be." Chloe takes a deep breath. "And now you whimper and cry for them. You may think me no better than a child, Gegi, but I'm not a fool." "And -now- you fear me, or hate me, yes? Your mind changed once again? You -should- fear me. You -shouldn't- trust me. Keep your distance, because I -can- snap and I -can- be dangerous. If making you hate me is the only way to keep you away from me, then so be it." From her safe distance with plenty of others between them, Chloe remarks firmly, but with eyes darting to avoid hers, "Never. That's not anger, that's... selfishness, inhumaneness. It's evil powermongering. And you wanted it." "Wanted it? -Wanted- it? Wanted that man to open up an abyss inside my mind that I can't remember and can't forget? Wanted the demons to come and try to kill my friends, wanted them to take -my- body and use -me- to get inside, to attack the others? Chloe, her defenses slowly dying, protests, "Not a friend, just a mortal..." "Garret, Plots, friends both, and dear to me. Gabby, a friend from my childhood. Skaar and Jon and Sakell and Joe, companions whom I trusted, who had helped to rescue me. Jay, whom I loved. None of these were 'just mortals'. All of these could have been killed because of the demon that took over me. I would never have chosen that." "You would have that power..." "And I -have- the power. And there are no demons involved. Would I have wanted to become such that Enedel and Astarial have suggested that I'll either die or be damned and I have no bloody choice about it? I wanted to live, dammit, I wanted to live! For just a moment my passions overwhelmed my thoughts and I considered taking that offer but -never- to harm my friends. To destroy myself, maybe, but what reason did I have to survive, anyway?" Chloe bites her lip. Simply, "You wanted to live." Gegi laughs. "Contradictions, contradictions. That's me! I would not let him use me as bait for the demons. If I was going to go out, I would do so because I -chose- to, not because he trapped me into it. Plunging headlong into Hell my own way. But I -stopped-, and I turned around, and I walked back out of the mouth of madness." "I am who I am, and I am -not- a nice person. I told you that over and over again. I am -angry-. I will not lie down and give up. Selfish? You're damned right I am. Inhuman? I don't think so - I'm not a demon, I've been -in- them, I know how it feels. Evil? You tell me." Evil, definitely evil. "If you are _so_ angry about these demons... what are you going to do about it? Or will you just, like a bully , go around beating who you can?" This time, she is calm. "Have I beaten you, Chloe? Have I raised a hand in anger to you, to anyone here? What did I do to you, ma petite? Gave you a brief taste of what it feels like to be me, when I'm mad. You didn't like it much. I don't like it either. I don't want your pity. I did it to ask for your understanding. That is what I am. Stay away from me, I don't want to hurt you." Chloe tilts her head a bit, still diverting the eyes, determined not to be sucked in to feeling sorry again. Gegi kneels and raises her hands, fingers curled, wrists up. Her eyes pick out a knife somewhere. (This is still a pub, there must be cutlery around...) "Go on. I won't stop you." She looks at her, not understanding, then follows her eyes to the knife. "I would never..." "Wouldn't you? You took up a knife against me once before, in fear, in anger." "No, I would never! Gegi, I thought you'd blinded me, and were coming towards me again! But I still wouldn't have hurt you, you have to know that. It was for _my_ protection. I was frightened and angry, but I'd never have hurt anyone with it. I said I was sorry, what more can I do?" "I'm not asking you to apologize! I'm asking you if you -can- protect yourself. If all of them were gone, if it were just you and me, here, alone, and I came towards you, reaching for you, what would you do? Would you stand there and let me take you apart, like you did for the Dark Lady?" She looks at the floor, very uncomfortable, until she can find a way to switch gears, "Why would you do such a thing? I haven't done anything to you, Gegi." "I would not. I, the person now speaking to you, would not. But I could go mad. Or someone else could come after you, worse than the Dark Lady. If the monster in the dark came for you, Chloe, what would you do?" 16 Watcher gives a protesting squawk, then catches Rowan's eye. "Not mine my my fault no no no. She her rememembered. Only hungrey only listening hear feel see _taste_. Didn't not no not _my_ fault." He hangs under Rowan's arm, limp and sulking. Rowan grins knowingly. "Nay, 'tis ne'er _yer_ fault. Will't make ye less hungry if'n I sing ye memories I ha' o' yer tiny precious one?" "Singing songs singing moon?" Watcher cocks his head, blinking suspiciously at Rowan. "Yes yes perhaps maybe. Songs." As Rowan begins the story, he settles down at her feet, listening intensely, trying very hard to follow the tale. "Marie Stands-Alone, Black Spiral Theurge, wished ta renounce th' Black Spiral Tribe. Cleansin' was no' enough ta unwork wha' th' Spiral had done ta her. Ta her aid came six: five ta stand wi' her as friends, an' one ta offer th' Rite. 'Twas a new Rite. Developed just fer this occasion. Called th' Rite o' Choosin', 'twas a chance ta revisit crucial decisions 'n th' past, an' choose whether 'r no' 'twas as ye wished 't." "Choosing choices." Watcher shakes his head sadly. "No never ever only ever orders my orders yes. No me mine only them." Bavin sighs. "I think this has gone on long enough", he says quietly, but everyone involved in the Watcher debacle hears clearly. Rowan ignores him, continuing as if she alone hasn't heard. "Genie di' design th' Rite. Marie Stands-Alone chose ta undergo th' Rite. John Daniel, called Balinok, Nightstalker ta th'Cathari, Illyana Rostov, Apprentice ta th' Akritai, Jandor "Monitor" Hunter, Andy Finn an' Rowan Silverhair, Sings-Like-A-Harp stood wi' Marie as friends. "They started wi' an explanation o' th' Rite. Warned tha' a'least one friend must remain touchin' Marie a' th' end o' each step fer th' Choice ta be true. They agreed, an' a' th'question o' who would stand wi' her, each stepped forward, an' laid hands on her." Bavin then speaks very carefully in a strange ringing twisting language, that all of them can somehow understand, and sounds like a pure version, probably the original one, that the 'Dragon Tongue' is based on. "Falcon AND Watcher!" And it is so. The mages in the Glen feel a surge of magic as the bane's timelines begin to merge. Over by the white-coated woman, one Watcher vanishes instantly, with only a slight *pop* to mark his departure. The other Watchers in the Glen look towards Bavin, only the bane by Rowan seeming oblivious. "Th' first Choice was th' Dance o' Insight. Th' Dance inta th' first circle o' Malfeas, deeper inta th' heart o' th' Wyrm. Down, down an' round. An' all who stood wi' her felt th' pull o' th' Spiral as th' Choice started. Jandor, Rowan, Illyana an' John stood wi' Marie fer th' first Choice. They watched, observers only, as she danced th' Spiral. Watched as she entered th' maze o' madness an' darkness. Felt wi' her th' seductive powers o' th' Spiral. An' saw th' Black Spiral Dancer, th' fallen Fianna, who tempted Marie, then known as Cuckoo, so many years ago. " "Why 're ye here, all alone, child?" asked th' Spiral, violet eyes full o' love an' concern. "Ta Dance th' Spiral," she replied. Four friends watched as he questioned more. Jandor reacted ta th' long-ago threat by urgin' her on, silently. John used pain ta focus him on th' task. Illyana felt o'erwhelmed by th' Spiral, an' th' Dancer confrontin' them. She lost touch. Immediately repentant, she could noneth'less only watch th' rest. Rowan responded ta th' fallen Fianna wi' growls o' fury, but her hand remained firm on Marie's shoulder. "After th' friends listened ta all th' Dancer had ta say, Marie made her Choice, choosin' ta reject th' former Choice o' th' Dance o' Insight. An' Jandor, John an' Rowan stood wi' her as th' Dancer mocked her wi' th' face o' her son. Stood wi' her as he mocked her fer th' decision. Stood wi' her as th' first Choice ended." A Watcher gives a shriek, twisting frantically in an invisible grip. His skin has grown darker, slimier, and his leathery wings are suddenly tipped with razor claws. The bane snaps its serrated beak viciously, snarling at Bavin. "No! No not!" He looks back towards the Divider. "Father! You hear him here hear! Call!" His voice rises to a shrill cry. "Father!" The stench of Wyrm around the bane rises, visibly darkening the air, before he too vanishes. "Fer th' Second Choice, again th' call went forth: 'Who will stand wi' Marie 'n this Choice?' Fer th' Second Choice, Jandor, John, Andy an' Rowan all stood forward." In the Umbra, the Wyrm-taint that surrounded the vanished bane coalesces around the Watcher at Rowan's feet. It settles around him, fitting him like a shroud, its blackness tinged with balefire green. "Th' Second Choice, th' Dance o' Anger. 'Twas th' dance against all who might ha' been angry a' Marie fer th' past. Her parents, her sisters, her husband. An' th' only requirement fer Marie, was ta kill 'em. Kill them fer their past transgressions. Fer pain caused Marie, by them. Th' Rage nearly blindin' her, Marie began th' shift ta Crinos. John reacted by screamin' a war cry. Jandor resisted his Rage, refusin' ta allow 't ta control him. Andy, reminded o' past pain, snarled a' those who pained her 'n memory. Rowan, shakin' wi' Rage, clenched one fist enough ta draw blood, an' let th' pain recall her. "Marie remembered herself, an' refused th' choice made so long ago. She refused th' hate, an' Chose ta remember th' love. Remembered th' belongin', an' no' th' exile. Wi' tha', th' Second Choice ended." Where Chloe and Rhiannon are talking to Watcher, the air around him shimmers suddenly golden. He looks up at Chloe, alarmed. "Pretty one?" The light settles like down over him, the glow brightening. Watcher cranes his neck, squinting down at himself. "Pretty one?!" And now the light is blinding, Watcher's voice rising in distress over the flapping of feathered wings. "Me mine my pretty one!". As abruptly as it appeared, the light is extinguished and Watcher has gone. "Wi' no time 'tween th' Second an' Third, th' friends found themselves 'n a cave. Marie knelt before a brazier, hot wi' coals. On th' floor, th' silver spirals tha' marked her cheeks 'n th' time th' friends know her. Th' Third Choice, th' markin's o' her Black Spiral rank. Three spirals fer three circles Danced. An' fer each spiral, a night fer th' rank o' each spiral. Th' original lasted six nights fer Marie. Th' friends luckily ha' much less time ta watch. They watched as th' three spirals burned ceremoniously inta Marie's face, an' watched as three banes buried themselves inta th' spirals a' th' end o' th' Rite." The Wyrm-taint surrounding the listening Watcher in the Umbra stirs and begins faintly to sparkle. Tiny golden threads pierce the darkness, rapidly spreading until Watcher is almost obscured by a clound of gently swirling gold and black. Still oblivious, the bane's physical form sits absolutely quiet, eyes fixed on Rowan. "Th' Third Choice, th' third decision, th' friends witnessed. Marie Stands-Alone chose ta keep th' spirals o' rank, ta remember. She rejected th' Spiral, but couldna allow herself ta accept one o' th' thirteen tribes. Ta chose one 'r 't other would ha' forced her ta choose 'gainst one o' her children. So decidin', she chose th' name Stands-Alone. An' so ended th' Rite o' Choosin' o' Marie Stands-Alone, she who was once known as Cuckoo." As Watcher blinks and sits back, he suddenly seems aware of the Umbral presence. He looks back to Rowan, eyes widening in panic, beak opening to shriek, when he too vanishes. In the Umbra, the black-and-gold _something_ begins to swirl faster and faster, blurring the colours into streaks. Faintly, Watcher's familiar croak can be heard, mingled with the piercing cry of a falcon, competing, rising in volume as the cloud spins still faster. Finally, there is a blinding flare of gold, edged with pure black, and the light and sounds vanish. Lying at Rowan's feet is a falcon, its feathers, beak and sharp talons all as black as jet. Slowly, it opens dazed gold-irises eyes and blinks up at her. 17 "My avatar..." Gegi whispers, her face showing signs of joy/wonder/adoration. Garret's eyebrows seem to be trying to fly off his head. "Well. That's one solution." he mutters. "Solution to what?" Gegi asks, distracted, still staring at the figure. "Your sanity problems.", Astarial says baldly. She blinks, managing to tear herself away from the image. "I don't see what that's got to do with anything. I'm crazy, yes, but she isn't... what are you expecting to learn?" Her eyes are drawn back, falling again into adoring regard. "You forget. You *are* her, she *is* you. As one is, so is the other." She shakes her head, again pulling away. "I thought the Avatar was... well, connected but somewhat separate. The part that endures between incarnations, tying them together... but the person is a layer above, formed by her own experiences. The Avatar -influences-, but cannot dominate. I think. I never quite understood that..." "It'll either work, or we'll know why it isn't, no?" says Astarial to Garret. "I suppose. Avatars can be quite picky, you know, and a lot of them don't like being called up and bound. Mine, for instance," says Garret. "Called up, yes. Bound, no, not even to a true form." He indicates the burnt-out runes. "I didn't bother trying a spirit binding - it wouldn't be much use, unless I was to bind Gegi herself as well, anyway..." The spirit-woman smiles pleasantly in their direction, but there is just a hint of the storm in her eyes. **Hello, little one,** she sends in Gegi's direction, and turns calmly to Astarial, waiting. He bows to her, in respect but not subservience. "Lady, it was out of necessity that I summoned you here. Might I ask you some questions concerning the one who you are, and the ones who you were?" **The ones who we were... in that there is little that I can tell you. Much has been lost. But I will tell you what I can.** Her face is expressionless. A flicker of expression passes across Astarial's face, too fast to read. "Lost? How so?" **The shift between realities.** "So... you are not a shard of this reality? Do you wish to return, then?" **It is hard to explain. I am of this reality now. I cannot return.** "But apart from that, might I hear first of what you can remember of your incarnation previous to this? Who were you? What did you do, and seek to do?" **A woman, a French woman. Eliane. A mother. She had a son, a brilliant boy.** "Wes?" whispers Gegi. **He would have been a great mage. But something happened to him, while he was still young.** "I couldn't save him..." she whispers, blinking rapidly. Astarial listens carefully, analytically, to this (noting the part of his question that she didn't answer...). He *might* have been looking sympathetic, or that might just be overtaxed imagination... **I do not remember the rest.** "Well, then. In this life... What do you seek? Where would you go?" **We seek what all seek. Acension. Union. To be healed, and to heal.** "Have you always sought that, in all your incarnations?" He pauses. "How much do you remember of who you have been, before your last self? Do you remember anything before then?" *Fragments only.** Gegi's eyes meet those of the spirit-woman. Falling into me. **There was... a girl. A special child, conceived at the rites of spring. Marked from birth. Gifted. Beloved. Her talent came easily to her. She had no need to work for it. It was hers to command.** Gegi slowly begins to shake her head. **Then -they- came. The men from outside, who did not believe. They called her a witch. They captured her. And her magick, for no reason she could understand, fled her.** Gegi smiles bitterly. The woman remains calm. **They raped her, and beat her, and at last burned her at the stake. A witch's death. Her power failed to save her.** Gegi looks at Astarial. "I failed again, don't you see?" she says, self-mocking. "I lost." **It was the fault of the men, not you.** "I failed. I should have fought harder." Gegi makes a quiet sound, quite unable to form words. The spirit woman looks at Astarial intently. **She is afraid. Of many things. In time, she will grow more comfortable with herself. She is very young.** "Understandable, of course. But do consider the danger, the harm thatyou/she might do, inadvertently, until then." **There is always danger. Without danger, without pain, how can one learn?** A considering pause. "Could you perhaps be more specific? Mortals fear many things, mages more than most. But would I be right to say that you have more specific things in mind?" **She fears the world. She fears loving, and being loved, or never being loved. She fears me. She fears herself. She fears her strength, her power, and the damage she might cause. She fears that she has no strength. She fears failure. She is terrified of losing.** 18 "And the little man by the fireplace? You did! You lie! I could feel it." "I stretched out my hand to the imp in a moment of anger and jealousy and pain. I made no bargains. It tried to give me a gift, 'no strings attached'. The second I was back to my senses I got rid of it. Temporary insanity. Isn't that what you felt? "The insanity, not the temporary part." She narrows her eyes, "There was the imp, then the horrid, unnatural darkness, then the surge of power." Gegi looks confused. "There..." and pauses. "Heh. I suppose. Your mind must have organized the information into sequences. I just sent a big block of it, there was no order to memories or anything, just a bunch of feelings. The imp by the fireplace happened in the other reality where it wasn't quite me... the darkness came from... Mitch," still a bit tight and uncomfortable when she says that name, "here in the pub. They had nothing to do with each other. I think. Not a causal relationship or anything. And neither of those had anything to do with my gaining my powers." "Then why did you have to send that horrid memory of that horrid, horrid darkness? What was the point of that?" She shakes her head quickly. "It's better not to talk about it. Or think about it. I can't get it out of my head. I couldn't open myself up without letting some of that slip through. I can't make it go away." She shakes her head again. "I hate that I did that. If I could go back and run through the scene again with my /brain/ working, I wouldn't have done such a thing. That's what I was trying to tell you. I've done all of these nasty, stupid things, and I didn't want to, and I wish that I hadn't, but I can't change them. They're part of me." Muttered, "You could've just -told- me. You needn't make them part of me as well." "It was stupid of me, and I apologize." Chloe lowers her eyes. In acceptance or habit, it's hard to tell. We're too tired to slap you now. You may thank us later. "Overcome by the jealousy and the anger again. My madness is my shame. It -can- be my strength, when I can control it. Lindsay. I never hurt her. I hated her, sometimes - hate is the other side of love, isn't it? I didn't want to hate her. I don't hate her now. Sometimes I go out of my head. I don't want to." Quietly, "That's still not an excuse..." Equally quietly, "I know." She continues. "If anything had happened to Lindsay, even then, semi-hating her as I did, I would have done all I could to save her. I -did-, in smaller ways. When she was in trouble I dropped everything to help her out, even though I knew I would get no thanks for it, and my own chances would suffer." "Perhaps you could drown her... and then save her, yes? That would fulfill both sides of your desires." Her expression looks as Chloe's might if Gegi suggested that she should eat human infants to build up her strength. She sputters a bit but can't say a thing. How could you even -suggest-... Chloe's cheeks flush scarlet and she trembles a bit. You suggested it, actually. I just said it. Embarrassed muttering, "I'm sorry, that was a wretched thing to say..." "What I showed you was my shame, Chloe. -That- is what I've been hiding." Hearing this after her previous statement, she now looks a little ashamed herself, and diverts her attention to her fidgeting hands in her lap. After an awkward moment, "You could've just told me. It's not fair to just mess with a person's mind like that, even if you have the ability." "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." And Gegi flinches at Chloe's presence. "You're hurting me..." she whispers. Chloe frowns, her face starting to look panicked. She whispers, "I'm not, no.." She looks down. Ignore it and it won't hurt you. Right? At least you won't see it coming. Perhaps she just breathed, but perhaps she whispered Gegi's name, concerned. I'm an Entropy mage, if I don't see it coming, it generally misses me. She doesn't seem to hear. Chloe takes a deep breath. "And now you whimper and cry for them. You may think me no better than a child, Gegi, but I'm not a fool." "And -now- you fear me, or hate me, yes? Your mind changed once again? Chloe seems to be getting a little resentful that Gegi keeps reminding her just how weak and manipulatable her mind is. So stop being weak and manipulatable? Wake up, little girl. "You -should- fear me. You -shouldn't- trust me. Keep your distance, because I -can- snap and I -can- be dangerous. If making you hate me is the only way to keep you away from me, then so be it." Ouch. "I thought--" She sighs and frowns again. "Unless you truly do hate me and have some rational reason for wanting to hurt me, would it not make more sense that you simply learn to control such things?" "Hopefully I will... when I get out of here, but who knows when that will be?" Chloe shakes her head. "When the demon said he would give you powers, he only required that you kill a mortal." I'm a mortal. "That wasn't a demon. That was En- the elf. Testing me, so he said, to see if I would betray the party, our party, for my own personal gain. Skaar, Jon, Sakell, Joe, Charlie, Jay. And even if he had meant just any person... sheesh. That's even worse. I could never do that. You must not have gotten the whole memory... the next thing I did was ask him if there wasn't any way for me to learn magic -without- hurting anyone. I am -not- interested in ritual sacrifice, thank you. I came close enough to being a victim." "You would have that power..." "And I -have- the power. And there are no demons involved." Her doubt of such a sentiment is rather obvious. "Ask the other mages! My Awakening had nothing to do with deals with devils. Had -something- to do with the cleansing process... I was sent to the presence of great holiness. I could give you -that- memory, if you wanted it... it's a good strength to be able to call on." She smiles. "And the woman they're all convinced is a demon-servant? She said it was 'all up to you'. That sounds like demons being involved..." "She reminded me of that fear. She also tried to make Garret think that we were... people we aren't. She told many lies." Chloe thinks for a moment, then says, "Did she really? Or were they truths... just a little late? I mean, I don't know exactly what you and Garret were considering over there, but Rhiannon did have children, yes? And Mr. Edge, he had tentacles at one point it seems. What I saw may not have been the Crinos form, but it seems close enough, all huge and monstrous like that. Gegi... did you know about all these things in people's past?" "I don't know Rhiannon's past, not really..." She drops her voice and carefully checks to be sure that neither Kiasyd nor Garret is listening. "I gather that she lost a child? A miscarriage, an accident, something... something painful for her. I wouldn't want to ask about it. And Michael," a slight pause before saying that name, and a smile as she does it, "had some sort of evil tentacle instead of his arm, yes, although I think it had been replaced with the golden one by the time I met him. I don't remember exactly. I'm bad with chronology." Chloe takes a deep breath and asks very gently, "Why did you want to share it with me? Why did you want me to see your shame?" She shakes her head slowly, side to side. Her eyes look too dried-out to cry. The emotional aura that has surrounded her, making her feelings easy to read and hard to ignore, seems to have faded away. "I don't know," she says, very quietly. "It doesn't matter." "You did it against my will." She nods. "True." That should mean a little more. She frowns, brow furrowed. Gegi doesn't flinch. We're not begging any more. "I don't want your pity. I did it to ask for your understanding. That is what I am. Stay away from me, I don't want to hurt you." She looks a little dubious of this, as well. "Well then, I'm sorry, but I don't understand." She puts up her hands in a surrendering manner, palms out, fingers spread. I'll stay away. She nods, with the heavy aura of weary sadness about her. Not one demanding pity. Not the frantic hysterics. Resignation. Farewell. 19 The door opens. A black man, apparently mid-twenties, dressed in black, wearing a silver medallion, enters. At his side is a short dark-haired white female, same age, in a long skirt, bikini top, and cape. Her eyes seem slightly unfocused. A Gegi currently not involved in anything turns. She stares at the couple, trying to place them. The man looks at her and smiles. "Still wearing that pendant I liked?" Her hand goes to her necklace. She grins. "Stormy? I thought you and Susan went to California... and joined the military!" "Not quite. Not in this reality, anyway." "Then, you know...?" The woman speaks for the first time. "Emily," she says, looking at/past Gegi. "The time is now." Gegi blinks. She looks to Storm for confirmation. He nods. "You've been waiting for that. We offer you a place with us." She looks around. "I... yes. Yes, I'm ready." She picks up her things, then looks at the tangled mess of timelines she's leaving behind her. She smiles at anyone watching. "At that rate, I may be back before I leave, so why say goodbye now? I'll never really be gone..." The three of them head out the door. 20 And he scared all the people, cause he was just what we want: She smiles a little. "So what are the rules now?" Michael laughs, "I don't know. What game are we playing this time?" An intricate question in this environment... She glances over to Chloe. "Many games." and back to him. "Playing cards blindfolded with someone who keeps laughing quietly and won't tell you what the game is... anyone for a game of Mao? Wet tennis?" "Questions?" She squeezes back, lightly. (Blush? Haven't we done that before?) "So," she starts and stops. "So tell me about Michael Edge, the mage I only slightly knew, in a Cafe and a Pub long ago..." "Hi!", he puts on a perfect game-show host voice and expression. "I'm Michael Edge, I enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin and the gravel under my feet. During the week I travel the multiverse trying to keep my family in line, while on the weekends I hang around in Pubs. I enjoy both Scotch and Irish whisky, but will drink anything handed to me. I also like playing my guitar, singing and making people laugh." He stops, resumes his normal expression (a smile) and voice, "Your turn." She inclines her head and manages to give the impression of a curtsey without going through the motions. "Georgina Emily Okerson, Southern girl, aged 19 last I checked. I don't much care for sunlight - anemic, photosensitive, and strange teeth, it's the repressed vampiric tendencies. I go barefoot when I can, but I have high arches and my feet start to hurt if I run around too much without support. In one reality I'm sliding through time and space trying to save the universe from imminent destruction, while in this one I'm hanging around a Pub getting to know myself." "This one?", he smiles mischievously, "There is only one..." "I'm too young for alcohol and I wouldn't if I could, but I'm an unashamed caffeine addict. I enjoy playing the piano and any other musical instrument I can get my hands on, and singing, and... interacting, I don't know." She smiles. Michael returns the smile, but sighs, and looks to the bottle, "I probably drink too much... I used to drink to forget that I couldn't remember... And now to remember what I can't forget..." He meets her eyes, "It helps me cut down the distractions, tunnel vision, slowing down the voices so I can make them out or shunt them aside... I could choose to put it aside... But I won't." He smiles sadly, "My own little indulgence... And music...", his smile is momentarily transcendent, "That is my other escape..." "Were you a Tradition mage?" "That too...", he says, not deliberately being enigmatic, "I am every man...", a line he's obviously amused himself with in the past, "I have been a little bit of everyone over the years... Druid, Progenitor, Nephandi, insane, Demon and angel, Ecstatic, mundane... Male and female and even the twain, tall, dark and brooding, occasionally tame..." He grins at his impromptu rhyme, "I've seen it all from all sides, all points of view, the most contradictory of which I still seem to hold... I can't help but think I might be just a little bit crazy at times..." He grins, "Mainly the good times." Sudden scene shift. Not the good times, perhaps. Perhaps. A girl curled on the ground, a man curled around. He hums a different song, soft, relaxing, a solid foundation free from fear, overlayed with softer words, "Shhhh... Georgina? It's alright now, it's gonna be fine..." She looks up at him, and can find nothing to say. Too locked up inside to manage even gratitude. Don't let go. And Michael doesn't, soft voice whispering comfort, soft touch confirming external presence, soft eyes echoing pain. His pain is her pain is his pain... recycling? Shared pain is lessened. He holds her close. And eventually, she manages to smile. How do you put up with me? Shared joy increased. "The darkness that he. . . I'll never really be free of it, will I? What do you see, when you look into. . . that?" "A long time ago...", he begins, softly, comforting tones remain, eyes focused off in some distance, "A trapped and frightened creature sought freedom, survival... They sought a way out, a way they, or even just a part of them, could make it through... They were a chorus, a mesh of voices making a unified song... Hammering at their jail, desperate for a break, a break appeared... Not in the wall, but in the walls of their mind. They did not understand, but they saw their chance and drove themselves through, grated, each component melody taking its own path through chaos, through the Breaking, each somehow reestablishing a life of it's own... Awaiting the time they could re-unite and sing once more as one..." His eyes focus on Georgina's eyes. "When I first saw the broken space above the table, when I saw what the broken man had wrought... For the first time in ten thousand years I caught a glimpse of what I'd done... A glimmer of understanding dawned..." He smiles, the joy of a child. "What I see, when I look into... that... is hope." Sudden scene shift. Not the good times, perhaps. Perhaps. A man on a chair at a table, glass in hand, swirling liquid and darkness around. A woman stands in a pool of light. They are alone. (Whispered voices in their minds.) They are not alone. They are together. "Georgina..." He begins, a dancing on the air... "I know that, in a way, you have already left..." "I know that, in more ways than one, you remain..." He stops, unsure of where he's heading. This is not the path he was going to take. "I have given you a promise... That one day a tap on your shoulder will herald I behind you..." "And I could offer to go with you... But you've already gone...I could carry you off with me... But I'm not all here myself..." Momentary anguish, "And I think sometimes, if only I could... But my choices are my own... And I don't like to interfere..." He gulps from the glass, swallowing indecision, "And so I leave things as they are... We take a part of each other on our ways, and leave the rest to go on their's..." "And... for a time... we say goodbye." Glass falls from fingers into gravity's grasp, trailing liquid behind, it stops above the ground, suspended. The man stands, two steps forwards and none back. Enfolded by the light his arms enfold her, a gentle reassurance. The softest kiss, lips barely brushing, his arms let her go, but his eyes do not, two steps back and infinite on, shadows touch his skin and he is gone. Times unfreezes. A glass continues it path, It shatters, signifying the end... ..but only of sorrow Hope remains. They are all the good times. It's all in the mind.