1
	The possessed Gegi is caught in magickal combat. Gabby gently 
shoves at Plots. "Lie down and -don't move.- She's done enough damage. 
They'll get her." The malicious edge to her voice is noticeable.
	"That's...what...I'm afraid...of..." He manages between coughs. 
"I... doubt this... was.. Gegi's... intent." He rests for a moment, not 
standing up, but not lying down either. He watches the conflict intently.
	She rests a hand on his shoulder with the clear intent of 
restraining him if he tries to get up. "Shows what you know. We went to 
school together. She's one of the ones who knew and didn't help - and now 
the Dreaming's thrown her out and she's trying to destroy it for the rest 
of us. It fits her perfectly.
She's only getting what she deserves." The light-beam fires, and the 
various Gegi's collapse. "Well, that takes care of that."
	"Huh? What did she know and not help?"
	"That magic was real. That the others were draining me. That I 
was in danger of my life. Everything."
	"The term 'everything' is kinda vague, you know..."
	She sighs. "It's a long story. We were alike, more so than I 
could have guessed. I thought we were - not quite friends, but friendly, 
at least. She betrayed me. I could have died, or worse than died. I might 
have lost the Dreaming forever. Her fault. And now she's lost hers."
	"Really?" Plots looks carefully at the fallen form of Gegi. "She 
seemed real nice. What do you mean, 'she's lost hers'?"
	"She's not fae anymore. She's fallen. She probably can't even 
remember it consciously, but in the back of her mind she knows what she 
did and what she had. How much do you know about the faerie peoples?" She 
looks over at the fallen form of Gegi. "Shouldn't we get rid of the body?"
	Plots turns back to her, a little worried. "Well, she's not dead, 
for starters."
	"Drat. And it's bad form to kill them when they're down... Got 
any rope?"
	He shrugs. "I know you don't exactly have the greatest of repesct 
for her, but maybe you're overreacting. I mean, it's possible she's 
changed since you last knew her. You know, reverted, or found the dream, 
or something like that."
	"When last I knew her she was still in the Dream. I can see that 
she isn't, now. It's a faerie thing. We can tell. To be swallowed up by 
Banality is one thing. To become corrupted enough to deal with demons is 
another. The Unseelie may be dangerous, but they wouldn't dare go near a 
demon... she has
to be fallen. I believe the word is Dauntain... those who hate the 
Dreaming so much that they actively try to destroy it..."
	"I thought she was from a different direction--dimension, I mean. 
What Dreaming?"
	"Another dimension? Mentally, maybe. Ask her. As for the 
Dreaming... well, maybe you should ask Padriac that, when he gets back. 
He seems to be better with the histories."  She fingers a pointed ear.
	He closes his eyes. "Now is not the time to make me think..."
	"Join the club of the briefly-flambe'd," she says, idly tracing 
the black marks where the fire got to her clothes before Bavin did.
	"Great," he coughs. "When do I get my membership card?"
	She smiles a little, rummages among pockets, and manages to find 
a piece of paper. This she passes her hands over several times, humming. 
Finally she hands it to Plots.  "There you are. Like the design?" The 
paper is blank.
	Plots takes it, looks at through squinted eyes, blinks several 
times and looks back to Gabby, his face as blank as the paper he sees. 
"Oh..." he says with a smirk. "I actually thought you were serious for a
minute there. Cool joke." He pretends to study the paper. "Not bad, but I 
prefer Ionic columns as opposed to Doric." He runs his finger along the 
edge of the paper. "Sign my name here?" He asks with a grin.
	She smacks herself on the head. "My fault. I forgot." She snaps 
her fingers and claps her hands a few times in a catchy rhythm, then 
passes her hand over Plots's eyes. The index-card-size piece of paper in 
his hand now glows and pulses with a lurid orange light. Looking into one 
side of it is like staring down into a raging fire, the flames boiling 
and swirling around. The other side is black and crackly. There is no 
heat in it.

2
	All of the Gegi's, possessed or not, excepting the one who pulled 
off the necklace, collapse to the ground. A few flickers of orange light 
play around the ones who had been possessed, but then, nothing.
	"Nothing we can do..." Plots mumbles. He sighs and mouths 
something inaudible, then walks over to Gegi. Tentively, he reaches out 
his hand, tapping her on the shoulder. "Gegi? Are you...awake?"
	She moans softly. He shakes her again. Slowly her eyelids flicker 
open. "Who... Plots?" She blinks a few times, her eyes apparently out of 
focus. "I'm here again? Then I -was- here before... but it couldn't have 
been real, that wasn't how it happened, because I threw the demon out 
when I was here, but it was still there when I got back and none of this 
had happened...." She turns her head to the side and notices the burn 
marks on Paddy's nice oak floor. "I did that, didn't I? I would have 
thought they'd clean it by now..." She turns back to Plots. "Wait a sec. 
When am I?"
	Plots breathes a sigh of relief. "Just relax, you had a busy past 
ten minutes."
	"Ten minutes?" She struggles to rise, and fails. "Then I'm right 
where I was... and when I was..."
	"Yes, you are, so take a few minutes to rest." He pats her on the 
back. "No one is going to try to hurt you, now. Take it easy."
	She chuckles. "Don't be so sure." Her body twitches, trying to 
sit up, then relaxes. "Ow. Why do I feel like I've just run a marathon?"
	"Let me explain," he says, then grins. "No, it's too long. Let me 
sum up. You were possessed by a dormant demon that Garret found. He 
pinned you, Karieta did the holy power bit, Garret was thrown off."
	"That's right, Dagon threw Garret... no wonder I hurt."
	Plots' eyebrows raise, but he continues. "Garret and Karieta did 
a double-magick on you, then Myung healed me, and hit you with a light 
beam, and then you collapsed."
	"Who's Myung? We collapsed when one of me took off the necklace 
and broke the contract..." She winces. "I've got all the timelines mixing 
in my head. It's a little dizzying, especially since none of it happened 
in Outside terms... I was never in the Pub and I did not find out about 
the demon until I had a nervous breakdown and he took over... Jay caught 
him casting a spell and blew my foot off... "
	Plots checks her feet, seeing that they are both still there. He 
places a hand on her forehead. "Well, you're a little warm, but I don't 
think you're sick."
	"No, he blew my foot off -there-, on the other side. To distract 
the demon. And it worked - he couldn't get away, especially with Jay 
shoving the cross in my face. Then Jon threw the Book at me. Capital B. 
And they managed to drive him out before he could throw a single 
fireball... Jay bandaged my foot as soon as the demon was gone. And he 
apologized when I woke up. And Chappell healed it, anyway. It's all right 
now. Still hurts a little, but that's just in my head." 
	Plots looks blank. "Yeah. Right." It's evident that he got lost 
about three sentences in, but is more concerned with other things at the 
moment.
	She clutches her head. "Okay. Let me back up. Remember, I told 
you how I got here - how he enchanted the portal and we stepped through 
and I got misplaced somehow. When I collapsed here, I was back there 
again, stepping out of the portal. Only I didn't remember any of this 
happening. It -hadn't- happened. I still had the demon in the back of my 
head, and it got out again. And a lot of other things happened, and he 
cast another spell, and I seem to be here again, suddenly remembering 
everything that happened before. I think the timelines got confused."
	He sighs. "Look, you mentioned that the demon was using your 
life-force. How bad is it? Do you
need something to build it back up or something?" He looks around. "I 
think they have a bed upstairs if you want take a nap, but I'm not sure 
you're ready to stand, let alone climb a ladder."
	"A nap sounds nice... really, a few minutes rest and I'll be 
mostly all right. Just don't expect me to lift weights. The 
life-energy..." she sighs. "I don't know. On the other side he didn't 
really get to drain me, and Enedel put us all in an enchanted sleep 
afterwards, anyway. That's where my foot healed. So
I can't give you an estimate on recovery time..."
	"Okay." He shrugs and pulls off his jacket, placing it under her 
head for a pillow. "Take a nap then. Sorry about the burnt smell on the 
jacket, but at least it isn't charred."
	"Not a problem..." And a Gegi curls up to sleep.

3
	"A psivamp?" asks Chloe. "May I hear that story, then?"
	"I don't think they have them in your world - yet - and it's not 
really the term I'm looking for, either. I don't -drain- people of their 
feelings. I just - need them. I need to be connected to people who feel 
things. It's hard to explain. It keeps me balanced," says Gegi.
	She jumps a bit.  "I don't like the idea of people messing with 
my mind."
	"Me neither. Like I said, I don't really take anything away from 
people. I just need to be around them." She sighs. "And other people's 
feelings tend to become my feelings, so my head gets messed with all the 
time."
	"I wouldn't take anything from my head if you can help it, Miss.  
If I had a choice right now, I know I shouldn't want to be feeling like 
this."
	Gegi smiles. "I don't always have a choice."
	She looks at Gegi a bit warily.  "Why aren't your own feelings enough?"
	"I'm a little crazy, you see. Self-diagnosed manic-depressive. 
Probably cyclothymic." She blinks. "I think that's the word. Anyway, I 
have to be careful or I get... weird."
	They speak of Gegi's lost coven. "You should be careful, though," 
Chloe says. "If the witches don't get you, the hunters may.  And then 
they drown you." 
	"I've nearly drowned before. It wasn't -that- bad..."
	Chloe shudders.  "Oh, I hate the water.  I can't think of 
anything worse than drowning.  Suffocating like that in those violent 
waves, the thick water pulling you down."
	She shrugs. "I was awfully young at the time. I couldn't swim. I 
was playing in the pool with one of those floating rings around me. No 
one else was in the water. My father was supposed to be watching me, but 
he was talking to some woman. I took off the ring and splashed out into 
the water to see if
I could swim. I couldn't even keep my head above water, much less get 
back to the side. I kept bobbing up and down, just managing to get a few 
breaths now and then. I kept trying to yell for Dad, but I could never 
get enough air to really make much noise. He thought I was calling him to 
come watch me do a trick or something, so he kept ignoring me. I don't 
know how long that went on, but it felt like forever."
	"Anyway, it was scary and frustrating, not being able to save 
myself, but it didn't -hurt-. Not like burning would. I just had to cough 
out the water and stuff." She flinches. "Burning. Now that would hurt. 
But they shouldn't be able to get here. The powers that they were 
summoning  could, easily.... but I'm too insignificant to be worth the 
trouble, really. Why waste power killing me?" And at this point, she 
suddenly staggers and collapses.
	Chloe jumps a bit but quickly kneels by Gegi's side.  She props 
her head up a bit on her own knee and shakes her very gently.  "Gegi?  
What's happened?"  Then, remembering something, she removes a small 
vial.  It's glass but is wrapped around with silver and capped with 
silver.  She pours a drop out of thick blue liquid onto her fingertip and 
puts it close to Gegi's lips. "Here, this will make it better.."
	Suddenly Gegi's eyes flash open. "Kyman! The arrow!" she cries, 
then blinks a few times. She looks up at Chloe. "Oh, dear," she says quietly.
	"Take this," she refers again to the thick blue droplet on her 
finger.  "If you have any bumps or bruises or cuts it will heal them and 
it will stop you from fainting as well.  My father gave it to me even as 
a child, it works wonders.  Just a drop though, no more, and then no more 
for three days, just to be safe.  No harmful side effects, either."
	"Your father?" she asks, as if trying to remember something, and 
then shakes her head slightly. Guessing that Chloe isn't likely to 
believe that she's fine, she sighs and takes the "medicine." Suddenly, 
she tenses. Her eyes go wide. "What have you done?" she whispers.

4
	"Who's Myung?" Gegi asks Plots tiredly.
	"That would be me," says the blonde Asian woman, taking a swig of 
whiskey. "I hope you can trust me after I zapped you." 
	Gegi looks worriedly up at Plots, who nods with a smile. "Let her 
heal you."
	Myung flexes her hands and pulls out a small handful of very fine 
needles with weights on the ends.  She takes off Gegi's shoes and adjusts 
her shirt, sticking a needle each in eight spots, all around her body.  
"That will keep you stable, at least.  Dagon poisoned your Qi very 
deeply." She sits crosslegged on the floor and chants quietly to herself, 
gradually gaining in volume.  She begins to glow slightly, and her
short blond hair is ruffled by an unfelt wind.  A small sphere of white 
light forms between her hands, and she points it at seven consecutive 
points on Gegi's body, emitting a small pulse each time. She stops 
talking, and presses the sphere directly over Gegi's forehead.  It slowly 
sinks through and vanishes.  "You'll have to do the rest by yourself.  
You can remove the needles whenever you like."
	"Take a few minutes to rest," says Plots, patting Gegi on the 
shoulder. "No one is going to try to hurt you, now. Take it easy."
	She chuckles. "Don't be so sure."
	"This is not good news." He mutters.
	"Oh, don't worry... " she sighs. "It should be all right. What's 
the current count on fanatical evil-destroyers in here at the moment, 
anyway?"
	"Uh...well, a lot. Then multiply it by the fractered timeline 
modifier, and you get a lot more."
	She sighs and looks around to be sure that no one else is 
listening. "What the demon said - that I let him in - was true. I mean, I 
didn't know that the rituals I was performing were real, or even what 
they meant, and I was trying to block them even as I was saying them, but 
I -did- say them. And according
to Elfboy, I'm now... tainted. Technically, I'm an Infernalist, I guess."
	Plots only shakes his head, dropping it into his hands. "So much 
for my perfect streak." He mutters.
	"Never advertise such streaks. That's begging the universe to 
throw you for a loop..." She sighs. "And the only way he would suggest to 
cleanse me was to kill me... I don't want to be evil. I'm afraid I may be 
fated to be."
	"I doubt it. Once Garret gets back you can talk with him about 
it. He's convinced that he's forever evil, with no hope of redemption. I, 
personally, don't buy it." He keeps his voice low, and his head remains
down, concealing his mouth. He's doing his best to keep it private.
	"I don't think I'm lost yet... but the critical point is approaching."
	"Maybe you should ask someone about it? I mean, to be totally 
honest, I don't think they kill you on the spot. The only things that 
have come in here and were sunsquently trashed, that I know of, were the 
HitMarks. Otherwise, you should know that Sabbat drop by often enough, 
and the Garou usually give them a warning if they're offended." 
	"Just as long as the Sabbat Inquisition doesn't come calling..."
	He rests his hand on her shoulder. "I'll vouch for you."

5
	Chloe speaks to Gegi. "I've never met a Malkavian. I don't know 
why I think all these things, they seem instinctual or something.  
Anyways, I know I've never met a wise mad person because if they were so 
wise they wouldn't be acting in such a way that lands them in those 
horrid, horrid asylums."
	A pale man with one green eye, one blue eye, and a bruised face 
stops talking to a nearby gothgirl and pads over to the two ladies...
	Gegi shudders. "Sometimes people don't have to do much to end up 
in an asylum. Not that I have, but I've always been rather terrified of 
the idea."
	"I have. It wasn't pleasant." Mitch's face takes on a somewhat 
sorrow ful cast, but his mouth keeps on smiling; it's almost as if he 
can't stop it.
	Gegi looks at him in surprise, then notes the bruising. "Are you 
all right? Anyway, not all Malkavians act in ways that are extreme enough 
to land them there. Marina wasn't frightening, just a little childish... 
she scared easily. We had to keep an eye on her. Or there's Ophelia over 
there - " she gestures to the vampire by the piano, talking  to another 
Gegi. "And she's perfectly nice."
	"My Master," says Mitch, the capital clear in the way he's 
pronouncing it, "claimed to be a Malkavian. He *ran* the asylum. I was 
put in the isolation ward after... ending two of the warders."
	"Your master? Your Sire?"
	"Regnant was the word he used. I loved him, in a way." 
	"Then you are a ghoul, not a vampire? 
	"Was. Was, as in 'he died', not is."
	She raises a hand in the Vulcan peace symbol. "Who are you?"
	He responds in kind. "What am I?"
	She switches the fingering, pulling the middle two together and 
pushing the others out. "Not what I am."
	"You know what I was, you see what I am, change me, change me!"
	"I see only what I am not careful not to see, and you are the one 
to do the changing." She drops her hand. "The world's coming to an end, 
you know."
	"Isn't it always?"
	"So you were in an asylum. And you escaped?"
	"I could have left whenever I wanted to, but I simply watched... 
and waited."
	"Until..?"
	"My Master did a stupid thing... He wanted to know how I could 
move from place to place, and I showed him how I saw the universe. Does 
the phrase 'stepping into a titanic meatgrinder' make a point?"
	"Reminds me of The Wall, actually... "
	"I stepped with him. I know the way to shift my P.O.V., though..."
	"Correspondence point. Don't look down. If you can't hold your 
mind right you'll crush yourself against infinity." 
	"Fasoma Span. It's all...disjointed brokentatters! Nothing whole, 
only smallestbitsofeverything."
	"Small is big and big is small and it all comes down to a bit of 
fairy cake, really. What's fairy cake?"
	"A psivamp? May I hear that story then?" says Chloe to Gegi.
	"I don't think they have them in your world - yet - and it's not 
really the term I'm looking for, either. I don't -drain- people of their 
feelings. I just - need them. I need to be connected to people who feel 
things. It's hard to explain. It keeps me balanced."
	Mitch's face becomes more gleeful. "Balance is overrated..."
	"Yes, well, having a screaming crying fit on the ground in front 
of people you're trying to make friends with is no picnic either," she 
says, eyeing him warily.
	"Weeell, I can agree with that. But, as you said, there's wisdom 
in madness."
	"And I don't want them to medicate the madness out of me... I 
just want to keep my balance. I can handle it. Usually."

6
	"She's not fae anymore. She's fallen," Gabby says to Plots.  "She 
probably can't even remember it consciously, but in the back of her mind 
she knows what she did and what she had. How much do you know about the 
faerie peoples?"
	"Well, most of them live in San Fransico..." He ducks. She rolls 
her eyes. "Sorry!" He grins, "I know that wasn't the most PC thing to 
say, but I couldn't help myself. As for the faerie's that you mean, well, 
not much. I've heard about the Pooka. Balinok seems to think they are 
most deadly."
	She laughs. "Deadly only to the dull."
	"I think David Swifthammer was one, some kind of a dwarf. I mean, 
he built things really well and was an excellent craftsman, but he didn't 
look like a dwarf at all. Aside from that, not much."
	"I think Hitiko or someone mentioned him... said he was a Nocker, 
like me. Crafting is in our blood." She turns an eye to the empty bar. 
"They say that bad tempers are, too... But you really should ask Padriac 
more about the faeries. I know very little."
	Gabby looks at an unconscious Gegi. "Drat. And it's bad form to 
kill them when they're down... Got any rope?"
	Not responding to the ideaing of killing Gegi, Plots clears his 
throat. "Um...not on me, no. Fresh out, you know."
	"We need some kind of restraints before she wakes up..."
	"Do you honestly think she's *that* dangerous?"
	She raises an eyebrow. "She just fried both of us and you don't 
think she's dangerous? She is an enemy of the Dreaming."
	"Are you sure? I mean since she's been in here, I haven't seen 
her to anything to try to destroy the Dreaming, whatver it is. And before 
you say that the demon possosion was an example, remember that she wasn't 
actually beleiveing the cult was messing with demons. She didn't realize 
she was playing fire, and got burned. It's probably not something she 
likes to think about, but it's always going to be there for her. I bet 
she's harder on herself than you think, so give her at least the benifit 
of the doubt here."
	"Cult?"
	"Well, it was a group of goths, or so she thought. She could 
probably explain it better than me. I'm not too clear on it myself, aside 
from the fact that she doesn't seem to have fond memories of them."
	She hands him the card, and then remembering that he can't see 
it, enchants him. The index-card-size piece of paper in his hand now 
glows and pulses with a lurid orange light. Looking into one side of it 
is like staring down into a raging fire, the flames boiling and swirling 
around. The other side is black
and crackly. There is no heat.
	Plots drops the card like it was a live rattlesnake. "What?!?!?" 
He jumps back from it, checks his hands. Finding no burn marks, he 
carefully edges towards the card again, staring at it intently. "Whoa..." 
he passes his hand over it quickly, and feeling no heat, reaches down and 
picks it up. He runs his thumb along the surface, amazed at the "flames" 
within. A huge grin breaks out across his face. "Wow..." He turns back to 
Gabby. "This is *so* cool! How did you do it?"
	She smiles. "I make things. It's what Nockers -do-. Magic and 
mystery, essence of whimsy. Faerie stuff."
	"Wow..." Plots repeats, inspecting the card. "So you use magic, 
then, like Garret and Karieta? It didn't seem that way."
	"Not mage magick. Faerie magic is completely different. Mystery 
and whimsy, like I said. With the snap of a finger or the wink of an eye, 
things can change. Not predictable, not tame. You don't master the magic. 
You become friendly with it." She smiles.

7
  	"You're depressed?" Chloe asks Gegi. "Quentin, this man I know, 
well, knew.  He grew really depressed right before he died again. For the 
last time. I should think being lost from your loved ones is the last 
thing you need right now!"
 	She sighs. "They aren't exactly my loved ones... friends, maybe, 
but I've only known them for about a week, really. They found me lost in 
the airport..." She blushes suddenly.
	Chloe looks at her a bit oddly.  "Goodness, lost in the airport?"
	"You see, my old friends, the goths, and I were planning a trip 
to New York City. But because of my work schedule, I was on a later 
flight than they were. They were supposed to meet me at the airport... 
they had the money and the hotel reservations and everything.... and they 
didn't show up. And
I had no one to call and nowhere to go." 
	"Oh my, your money?  That's a terrible thing to do."
	"Well, I had a little. Not enough to get a hotel room, though."
	"There are worse things to lose than money.  It sounds like it 
was better to lose your money and your old group than to keep both.."
	"And it would have been better if I hadn't found them again... 
see, after my new friends picked me up in the airport, they helped me to 
find my old friends. And -that's- when I got held in the warehouse with 
the culties. And I had to escape from them and get back to my new friends."
	"Why on earth should you have wanted to find them again?"
	"Once I knew what they were I didn't want to get back to them, 
but when I first got to New York I was horribly worried... I thought 
something awful must have happened to them. Either that, or they forgot 
me, in which case I wanted to find them and give them a piece of my 
mind..." She stops and
realizes what she just said. "Eek. Bad wording."
	"But these new people, they just found you there in the airport?  
How awful!  You sure they can be trusted?  I mean, cults and the like 
often go after lost people, makes them more susceptible to them... not 
that I want to question the integrity of your friends, miss!"
	She taps her head. "It helps to be psychic. Jay..." her blush 
deepens, "Jay and I knew right away that we could trust each other."
	Chloe nods, "I suppose it would be very helpful to know right off 
who you can trust and who you cannot.."
 	"Well, I don't always know. Sometimes I can't get a clear read 
right away. Sometimes it takes a little time. Other times - " she snaps 
her fingers,  "just like that."
	"Amazing! Trust at first sight.  Somehow I don't think it shall 
be the subject of so much discussion and dissertation as love at first 
sight, but it sounds wonderful just the same."
	Gegi smiles, dimpling, and blushes furiously, but says nothing.
	Then a few moments later, Chloe says, "An airport.. Like a 
seaport for airships...  How wonderful!  I do hate seaships, but I doubt 
I should mind airships. They're very safe, are they?"
	She looks at her curiously. "Pretty much. Haven't you ever flown? 
I can't even remember a time when I hadn't been on a plane... my father," 
and it is obvious from her tone as she says the word that she's not 
terribly happy with him, "is a pilot, you see."
	"No, I've never flown.  They do not have these airports where I 
come from. Didn't you like having a pilot for a father?  Why he could 
take you anywhere in the world that you wanted to go!"  
	She shrugs. "Yeah, we flew standby a lot. But pilots have fairly 
bad reputations - and mostly, in my experience, the shoe fits... 
flyboys." She mutters the last word with the same lack of kindness.
	Chloe nods, "The captains of our ships have notorious reputations 
for being drunken scoundrels.  There are worse things to have for a 
father, though, I suspect."
	She nods. "Many worse things. But I in my ivory tower don't 
see... I only hear."
	The conversation turns to drowning. Chloe shudders.  "There was a 
lake near our house that three of the servants children once drowned in.  
Two of them were my age and we were great friends.  It was quite sad.  
I'm quite happy to hear you were fortunate, though."
	"You had servants?"
	She nods, innocently thinking it should have been a normal 
assumption. "Lydia took care of the house, there were a few others but 
not for very long periods of time, Damien the gardens.  We also had a 
cook and butler, but we got new ones quite often.  And Lady Skye, but she 
wasn't really a servant, she tutored me and looked after me when father 
and Quentin were busy. Oh and Max," she giggles, "Max was this dear old 
man whom my father had known for ages.  He didn't really have much of a 
job, I suppose he took us somewhere if we needed to go, but I think 
father just liked having him around.  And then Byron and Michael were my 
father's attendants if he ever needed to go anywhere, and Nils was mine.  
Father and Quentin were rather overprotective, you see."
	Gegi nods. "How old are you?"
	"I turned 18 in June...why?"  Chloe looks perhaps a bit younger, 
mostly because of a small frame and wide baby blue eyes, but if she put 
on some make-up and had the right attitude, it appears that she could 
pass for quite a few years older.  Likewise, she could also with some 
work pass for a young girl as well.
	"Just curious."
	Gegi collapses, and is offered the blue liquid from Chloe's vial. 
"Your father?" she asks, trying to remember something. 
	"Yes, my father gave it to me."
	Gegi takes the "medicine" and tenses. "I should have known better 
than to take something that came from a father. What have you done?"
	Chloe looks very nervous.  "It--it should be working.  Don't you 
feel better, stronger?  You should be able to stand, you-you should.  
Please try to relax, you should feel nice inside.  Sort of warm and 
pleasant, no?" 
	"Don't you know what that is? I'm anemic, child, I know the taste 
of blood... what have I done?" She sits up, looking dazed.
	Chloe drops the vial quickly, but thanks to the silver strand 
encasing it doesn't shatter, just thuds softly.  "Blood!?  No..no!  
Impossible....Oh, wait.  Quite possible..." She looks alarmed, wringing 
her hands together "Goodness, I'm so sorry, I meant no harm, really I 
didn't.  Do you feel better, though?  This is just terrible..do you want 
some water?"
	"I feel fine," she says, distracted, climbing to her feet. "I 
only wonder at the consequences... or if there are any at all. If nothing 
here crosses to there... then perhaps I should beg Ophelia for that offer 
after
all. But to start down the path of no consequence..."

8
	Gegi shrugs. "Bizarre coincidences are my life story."
	Plots thinks about it for a minute. "I would guess so, judging 
from what I've heard. On the other hand," he says thoughtfully, "Have you 
ever considered that there may be a method to this madness? The idea that 
maybe all of these random happenings are some controlling power's way of 
keeping you on a selected path? I tend to lean in that direction myself, 
anyway."
	She smiles. "Of course. I'm the chosen one," and then frowns. 
"That's entirely the problem... chosen for -what-? I don't think I'm lost 
yet... but the critical point is approaching."
	"You know this for a fact? Or just a gut feeling?"
	"It has to do with the quest that we're on... which has something 
to do with saving the universe. Something that the nether realms are 
rather interested in. And I think I've been tapped to be their 
representative... at some point they're going to come back and try to 
deal. I think. But Elfboy won't -tell-
us what's going on... probably because we puny mortals have to make our 
choices uninformed. Prophecy and all that. I don't know."
	"So you're saying that the demons are going to come back here, to 
you, and try to deal? But for what? And how soon do you expect them, more 
importantly."
	"Not here. There. Before we reach the end. To influence me. 
Whatever we're doing obviously has to be done by mortals... Elfboy has 
plenty of power, if power were what was necessary. It has to be us, by 
our choice. So depending on whether or not the dark side agrees with what 
the elf's doing... I'm the
obvious agent for them to work through. As for when - soon. He said we 
had the last item on the list... we must be moving close to the end. The 
critical point."
	"I don't believe in a point of no return. As far as personal evil goes."
	She shrugs. "Normally I would have said that it is impossible to 
become irredeemably evil, that everyone can change in time. Of course, if 
the world ended shortly after I went over, I wouldn't have the chance to 
come back. Minor difficulty there."
	"Not true." Plots states. "You still would have had the chance. A 
time limit is an outside effect at not a part of a person. A lot of 
people can turn to good, and to evil, given enough time. The trick is 
finding enough."
	She smiles. "If I sell my soul to the dark forces and then, 
acting under their orders, completely destroy reality, including myself, 
you don't think that would make me evil? Jay said that the fact that I'm 
worrying about and not wanting to be evil means that I won't be... but 
that gets into a nasty logic circle. I don't know. I am not, at this 
time, an evil person. I can say that with surety. But  neither am I good. 
I may like to help people, but I am also quite capable of taking pleasure 
in other people's suffering. I am not pure."
	Plots sighs. "Everyone will occasionally take satisfaction in 
another person's problems, espiecally if that person has wronged them 
somehow. It's in everyone I've ever met, so don't start talking like 
you're alone in that regard."
	"I know, I know, but I don't want to be like everyone... 
especially if I do have this destiny thing riding along with me. It would 
have been very easy for him to have taken my soul. When I collapsed,
on the other side, I was very hurt, very frightened. It might have taken 
only a few words for the demon to convince me to give myself to him, to 
become a willing agent. I am not exaggerating. It could have happened. 
Instead, he ignored me and simply took my body. I don't know what his 
purpose was. He
wasn't terribly intelligent, maybe it just didn't occur to him..."
	"Whatever the reason, he didn't. And more importantly, you 
realized that you might have succumbed to the temptation. So now use this 
knowledge to help yourself next time, assuming there is one. Use what you 
learned, put it to good use, just like your third grade teachers always 
said."
	"If it were that simple. Me, as I am at this moment, yes. I know 
better. I have seen the danger, I understand the consequences, I am on 
guard and I would not be so easy to seduce. But I'm -crazy-. I told you 
that. Sometimes there are too many people in my head. Sometimes I'm 
feeling emotions that are not my emotions but I can't control them and I 
do strange things and sometimes the sane me is awake enough to realize 
that I'm acting strangely and fight it, and sometimes it isn't. So if you 
take me on one of my wild mood swings where my reactions are being 
altered by my madness, and then throw in some -real- emotion, say if 
something happened to make me angry at the group... it could still 
happen. I'm not sure if it's precog or paranoid delusion, but I feel like 
I'm going to be forced into that role. My life is a drama. Someone in the 
party has to be a traitor, that's the way these things work... and I'm 
the likeliest 
candidate."
	"Okay, assuming I beleive you are going to betray them, which I 
don't but will play along here, then give them some credit. You worry and 
worry about it so much that it's probably painfully obvious to them what 
you're afraid of. Since they haven't killed or kicked you out, they 
obviously are willing to take that risk, hoping that they can prevent or 
redirect it in some way. I think that they know about it, and are just 
waiting to make their move to stop, and save, you. Maybe they're hoping 
that the demons will get
overconfident, and come along with their guards down, at which time your 
friends strike."
	She laughs. "My friends. Right. Jay is. Jon might have been, but 
the encounter with the bat-demon poisoned his mind and Elfboy had to 
remove all of his memories of New York, so as far as he knows now he 
didn't meet me until I was possessed. The rest of them have -never- 
trusted me. I was some random chick they picked up in an airport who 
turned out to be involved with a cult and now has been carrying a demon 
seed around... they still make me sit apart with my hands in plain sight 
and keep a close watch on their crosses. I doubt they'd kill me, but most 
of them would gladly see me gone... and I'm
afraid that Elfboy himself might be included in that count."

9
	Chloe gets up from her knees as Gegi rises.  "I did not mean to 
harm you, please don't be angry miss."
	"I know you didn't."
	She picks up the vial from the floor and tucks it away, chewing 
on her lip lightly.  "Everything has consequences, though--what was 
Ophelia's offer?"
	"I don't know if she was serious or not... to offer what I 
thought I always
wanted..." 
	"Well if you still think that, then why not take it?  If she 
wasn't serious, then the only consequence would be a good laugh from 
Ophelia, no?"
	She looks terribly tempted. "Of course, if it only lasted while I 
was here, it would be of little value, and I really can't go back where I 
came from as a vampire..."
	"You want to be a vampire??" Chloe practically jumps in horrified 
shock. 
	"I told you that..."
	"I thought you meant a pretend vampire.."
	"I pretended to be because I wanted to be."
	"But you'd be a predator, a monster..Surely you jest.."
	"A vampire doesn't -have- to be a monster, after all. And if it 
only lasted while I was here... they do have blood on tap."
	"It lasts forever..Oh, but maybe not in your world, I see.  But a 
vampire IS a monster, a predator first and foremost." She flashes a look 
to the elegantly-dressed man.  "It's true."
	"I never said I wanted to be -Sabbat-..."
	"What kind would you want to be then?"
	"Hm. Well, my favorite character was Synthea... this is her 
backpack, you see. I made it as a prop for a game where I was playing 
her. Tremere by birth, Malkavian by choice. But I don't know that I'd 
really want to -be- a Tremere. My life expectancy might not be so good. 
Malkavian?" She looks at Ophelia. "Only with my choice of Sires. 
Toreador, maybe, if they'd have me..."
	Then, sometime after the situation settles, Chloe sighs, 
exasperatedly enough to indicate this a common frustration.  "If you 
please, miss, I'm hardly a child.." 
	Gegi blinks, then smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. Mark it up to my 
melodramatic nature and general silliness. I've been known to call people 
twice my age 'child' and 'dear'... maybe it's a Southern thing."
	She nods, understandingly.  "It is alright, of course.  I call 
any man taller than me 'sir' and any women who might be older 'miss' or 
'Madame', depending on the location.  At least I learned something at 
school, right? Even before that, though, I think I always talked like 
that.  My father liked things to be formal and proper; that sort of thing.."
	She smiles. "I'm not old enough to rate a 'miss' from you, really."
	Chloe looks surprised.  "How old are you?"
	"Eighteen."
	"My, you've been through a lot for only eighteen years!"
	"Haven't you?"
	They speak of fathers. Chloe nods, "The captains of our ships 
have notorious reputations for
being drunken scoundrels.  There are worse things to have for a father, 
though, I suspect."
	She nods. "Many worse things. But I in my ivory tower don't 
see... I only hear."
	"Quentin once told me, quite recently actually, that my father 
once attacked me and drank my blood, if that puts things in perspective 
for you.."
	"Your father!" she snaps her fingers. "That's what I was trying 
to remember... he wasn't really your father, was he?"
	"Um, well I suppose not. Not in the sense that he...was my real 
father." She looks discouraged, "But in the sense that he taught me how 
to read and play piano and told me stories before bed. Though I suppose 
in that sense Lady Skye and Quentin were just as much my father.  But he 
answered when I
called out 'father' in the middle of the night or had a question or 
wanted to show him something.  So in that sense he was my father, I suppose."
	Gegi sighs. "It's more than I can say about my father, anyway."
	"But he also lied about some very key things."
	"Everyone lies. It's why that matters."   
	"Why what matters? I mean, sure, there are some lies a parent has 
to tell, but some lies are just dangerous."
	"Why lie. Trying to protect someone is different from just saving 
yourself trouble..."

10
	Gegi smiles. "If I sell my soul to the dark forces and then, 
acting under	 their orders, completely destroy reality, including 
myself, you don't think that would make me evil?"
	He grins. "Ignorance is bliss." In a more serious tone, he 
continues. "No, it doesn't make you evil *until* you see the full 
consquences of what you caused and feel no remorse for it. That's when 
you're fully classifiable as evil. If you never see what happened, and 
didn't think it would come to that in the first place, then you never had 
the chance to *become* evil. As long as you see what happens and feel 
remorse--even for the fraction of the second before you die 
yourself--you're not lost. Until then, you're just a puppet. And it's the 
puppeteers, not the puppets, who have the evil."
	"Not evil, just stupid. How reassuring." She smiles and shakes 
her head. 
	He looks at her solemnly. "And that's why it's important that you 
meet that danger head-on. If you constantly wander around whining that 
you're just ready to join Darth Vader on the dark side, then it's that 
much easier for you to do so, and give in without an excuse. 'After all' 
you'll say, "I was going to do it anyway, so why fight it?'. That's why 
I'm saying to learn from experience. If you're still determined not to 
fight this," he shrugs, "Just let someone in here kill you now. You can't 
betray your friends then." He looks strangely cold.
	"It was Chappell's only suggestion of how to cleanse me... but 
I'm not sure that dying here would do anything at all. Besides, I'm not 
quite ready to  give up. As long as he would have me stay..."
	"Yes..." Plots looks at her skeptically.
	She blinks, suddenly remembering. "When it was asking you to kill 
me - that was the demon talking, not me. I couldn't even get mind-speech 
through, much less control my vocal chords enough to talk. I wouldn't..."
	"So quit fussing over it. They'll be ready to jump on you at the 
first inclination that you really *are* going to betray them, so I doubt 
you'll have much chance to do anything besides scream."
	"You're doing a wonderful job of making me feel better, you know?"
	Plots sighs. "I tried that, and wasn't getting anywhere with it. 
No matter how much I tried to point some of the good things you had in 
your life, or that you're really stronger than you give yourself credit 
for, or anything like that, you clung to the idea that you were 
worthless, and evil, and going to screw everyone over in the end without 
having any choice in the matter. My pep talks weren't getting through; 
they weren't helping you. So, I had to play by your rules: Assume all of 
the bad things about your life were true, and that you were damned in 
some way." He shrugs and looks at her honestly. "I want to help, try to 
get you to see that a postitive outlook, and some confidence in yourself 
and your team, or Jay anyway, can be a good thing. Sadly, I can't do 
that. I can indicate, hint at, and hope for, but ultimately, it's you who 
makes the choice, not me." As he finishes, he suddenly looks very 
drained, and leans
over for a moment, closing his eyes.
	"Stop being a rock," she mutters. "That was the -first- part of 
his lecture..." She reaches out and puts her hands on his shoulders. "I'm 
sorry, I shouldn't be doing this to you. I'm manipulating again. It's 
what I -do-. Make people react."
	"Don't apologize." He says as he opens his eyes. "I always react 
to things. Granted not in the fashion most do, but I do react. I've 
always done that, it's a part of me."
	"This would be part of why I'm so curious about psychic 
vampirism... but anyway. I'm sorry. I -am- tougher than I look. I -am- 
more than I appear. He was wrong, or he lied. I believe. Jay believes. 
That's enough."

11
	"Do you honestly think she's *that* dangerous?" Plots asks Gabby.
	She raises an eyebrow. "She just fried both of us and you don't 
think she's dangerous?"
	"She? No. The demon that possessed her? Yes. Big difference there."
	"What makes you think it's gone? How did it happen?"
	"Well, it was a group of goths, or so she thought. She could 
probably explain it better than me. I'm not too clear on it myself, aside 
from the fact that she doesn't seem to have fond memories of them."
	"I... see. Are you a friend of hers, then?"
	"I'd like to think so. Of course, this was before I found out 
from you how incredibly horrible and evil and twisted she's supposed to 
be. Maybe this is why I don't see her as the fire-throwing bitch queen 
you say she is."
	She sighs. "You just don't understand..."

12
	Gegi talks with Bavin. She can't quite manage a dangerous grin, 
so settles for a sweet smile. 
	"Not bad, but you need more practice! Spend more time in front of 
a mirror!", and he grins more moderately.
	"Not everyone spends an hour in the bathroom every morning... and 
when it comes to looking dangerous, a look too deeply into my eyes scares 
enough people anyway."
	He looks calmly and deeply into her eyes. "Not bad. But I have 
seen a few who can match or surpass you on that one, and it is not much 
use unless you keep running into the 'Look Deep into My Eyes' types..."
	She shrugs. "Staring at people works well enough. But I prefer to 
look sweet and innocent and do my manipulations from the background."
	"I wish to point out that I am not a Fiend, and bound to their 
rules about Contracts for everything, but I don't play quite as 
fast-and-loose with things as some people do." And he looks a little more 
serious.
 	"I'm afraid that I don't know much about demonic contracts, 
except that entering into them is a Bad Idea." 
	"Even listening to them describe them to you can be bad for your 
spiritual health. Fortunately, there are ways out of almost anything, if 
you are willing to be sneaky enough. The main trick is to never believe 
them when they tell you there are only two choices."
	Suddenly she staggers and collapses, as the reverberations of the 
other timelines slam into her. This one isn't quite unconscious, but lies 
on the ground with eyes unfocused and staring. Eventually, she awakens.
	They discuss her past experiences with the Pub, as an author. 
Bavin shakes his head. "I am not sure about that... You are close, 
certainly Reality Level 1Prime, but I don't think you are pure Level 1. I 
have never been able to get into there, and I have never found any 
definite evidence that anyone has come out... in physical body, anyway."
	She shakes her head a little, trying to remember which 
conversation this was. "It's possible that this isn't quite my Pub, then, 
or that entering it myself necessarily warps me. But I can promise that I 
was an author. Mostly in the Cafe, but somewhat here..."
	"How would you know the difference between being an Author, or it 
being written that you had memories of being an Author, by your true 
Author?", and Bavin sounds quite intruiged...
	She shrugs, not greatly concerned. "You can argue that one 
forever. Levels within levels within levels. You can't prove the past, or 
even the present. As far as I'm concerned, I was. Until technical 
difficulties on my end made it impossible to continue."
	"But don't worry. I started at Level 3, maybe even Level 4. Very 
low resolution or detail, and I am up here, which is at least Level 2.5, 
pretty good! Keep your eyes open, look for opportunities, and don't
lose hope! You can go a long way like that."
	"I don't think I quite follow what you mean by levels."
	"Ah. The higher the level number the less 'real' or detailed the 
Reality Level is. Reality Level 5 is very sketchy, distance is a matter 
of whim, characters appear and disappear as required, with no apparent 
existence between times, things may happen out of order, or get changed 
retroactively with no one seeming to notice, and if you are not careful 
you can run into blank spots or 'grey mist', which Creation seems to have 
overlooked. Level 6 is even worse, and Level 7 has about the consistence 
of games of make-believe played by children, where the rules change with 
the blink of an eye. I have never come across any
indications that there are any levels below Level 7."
	"The process should be infinite... but there might be a finite 
limit on how many levels removed from your own you can still perceive."
	"It is theorised that Level 0 is where the Creator dwells, or the 
Divine Infinite, or the Cosmic All, or some such undifferentiated 
creative whole."
	"But you can't get -there- when you're still running on entropy."
	"But seeing as I have never met anyone who has entered Level 1, 
or exited or got out to tell the tale, this is all rather theoretical."
	"Of course."

13
	Gegi and Chloe discuss boys, and girls, and dancing, and school. 
"Etiquette class? Wow. We're not quite like that.... liberal arts. You 
can skimp on the math and science if you choose to - I did somewhat - but 
we're not too bad in that department, and they're supposed to be 
reworking the system to put in more science..." 
	"I can't believe one would choose to skimp on science...or even 
that they emphasize it enough to rework the system.  Our system was 
basically 'a pretty face and pleasant demeanor'.  The dean of the school 
once even said that the books father and Quentin sent were silly and 
useless.  I never understood why someone who thought so little of girls 
would choose to run a school for them.."
	"Preparing you for good marriages, because after all, what else 
are females good for?" Gegi rolls her eyes. "Silly humans." 
	They talk of marriage. Gegi smiles, and then turns to look at the 
wall that she originally collided
with. Her smile fades a bit. "Marriage should be something important, 
something forever. And I just don't know if I can ever find someone who'd 
take me for forever. For a little while is easier... to love while love 
lasts, and part when it is gone, no hard feelings. And yet...." She 
reaches out and touches the wall. "But I know nothing of love," she says 
softly. 
	Gegi looks at Chloe again. "This may sound like a strange 
question, but with everywhere I've been lately... what year is it, would 
you say?"
	She looks puzzled and glances around the room.  "Um, 1898, I 
thought.  I mean this whole apocalypse thing...it's a millennium kind of 
prophecy, right?"
	"Well, that explains it..." Gegi takes the large green book again 
and opens it to the beginning, pointing Chloe to the copyright date. "You 
might say I'm a few years ahead..."
	She looks and then quickly looks to Gegi to see if she's fooling 
with her. 
	"I just keep getting harder to believe, don't I?" 
	Chloe nods.
	Gegi rummages around in her mini-backpack, turning up and passing 
over the deck of Magic cards, the box of chewable tylenol, the recorder, 
a wooden knife, a plastic bag filled with brightly colored candies, and 
various cloth bundles and pouches, before coming up with half an AOL CD. 
This she turns over in her hands a few times. "Not much to show for the 
future, is it?" She offers it to her to look at.
	Chloe looks over her into Gegi's bag as she rummages through it.  
She takes the CD, but still looks interested by the other contents.  
"It's...very...pretty?"  She taps it against her fingers, testing its
hardness, runs a finger across it to feel its texture, then sighs 
exasperatedly, "I give up, what is this thing?"
	"It's very hard to explain." She takes it back and sticks it in 
the pack. "But of the things I'm carrying, I thought it might be the one 
most likely to back up my story... that I'm not from the world you know." 
Her fingers toy with the two tags hanging from the zipper of one of the 
side pockets... one is a cardboard square that has been painted over with 
green and yellow glow-in-the-dark fabric paints, and the other is a red 
plastic keychain labeled Penn Class of 2000. "Anything else you'd like to 
look at?"
	Her eyes widen.  "If I walk outside, will it still be la rue d'Anais?"
	"Probably."
	She looks a little disappointed.
	"If you want to go elsewhere, though, it should be possible... 
particularly if you know where you want to go, or you exit in the company 
of someone else."
	She shrugs, "I don't know what else I would go back to.. but 
then, there's little left of my old life left.  With he.. and father now..."
	"Someone here might be willing to adopt you... take you somewhere better..."

	Then, "Then if you really are from the future, is the masquerade 
abolished--is that how this book exists?" 
	"I told you, the vampires aren't -real- in my world... not like 
these. We probably have them, but not this sort. And the idea of 
vampirism is very popular right now..."
	Chloe explains that someone is chasing her. Gegi nods. "Probably 
not a Good Thing. But even if something does follow you here, you should 
be safe."
	"Why's that?"
	"The clientele tends to be defensive." She gestures over to 
another timeline where a singed Gabby and Plots are kneeling by a large 
burned patch on the floor. "We just had a demon erupt in here and go down 
with very little damage..."
	"I can be defensive...I suppose." She wrings her hands together, 
glancing around again.
	"No, I mean, they'll defend you. If something nasty pops up in 
here chasing you, just yell. They'll help."
	She looks uncomfortable.  "Its not very proper to ask strangers 
for assistance...especially if it might harm them."
	"Sometimes you have to ask for help."
	They discuss vampires. "But a vampire IS a monster, a predator 
first and foremost." Chloe flashes a look to the elegantly-dressed man.  
"It's true."
	"Everyone's a predator. We all take from everyone else. We kill 
others to survive. We compete for the privileges of the elite. We 
backstab, we manipulate." She takes one of the green books and hunts for 
a specific page.
	"'Tis the way of things, though. There's only so much to go 
around in this world and so we must fight for it.  The strong 
survive-....Oh. I see."
	"We fight, but we don't have to be monsters," Gegi says, finding 
her page. "The Salubri, though...."
	"Well sure you could have a high level of humanity and 
compassion, but when it comes down to it, if you're hungry enough you'll 
drink a loved one dry or angry enough and you'll snap their neck.. mortal 
predatory instincts are a far cry from kindreds'.."
	"Really. Have you ever read Lord of the Flies?" She pauses. "I 
don't suppose you would have. Humans are -not- nice creatures. You push 
the right buttons, and people will snap. Behave like animals. Fight or 
flight. No matter how nice or kind or caring we are, we've all got dark 
demons inside of us. When
all else fails we try to kill each other with our bare hands..." She 
turns to look at Gabby again, and her face briefly goes cold and frightening.

14
	Gegi and Plots talk about being manipulative. He grins widely. 
"It took years of practice."
	"Most of which were spent letting someone else do the practicing?"
	"Actually, it takes a lot of work to get a person to offer 
something you wanted. You have to be nice and smooth, and poke and prod 
at the right times until they see that it would be a nice gesture to give 
you dinner or access to their computer, or something else like that."
	She grins and makes a little curtsey. "Funny, I never found it to 
be difficult..."
	They speak of Garret. "I wish he'd get back. I have so many 
questions to ask... and I probably should apologize for throwing him."
	"I wouldn't worry about that too much. As much as he might deny 
it, I think he likes to play the martyr."
	"And who was it who leapt into the middle of the fire without protection?"
	This takes Plots off-guard. "Uh...well, somebody was in trouble. 
I really wasn't thinking about the dangers involved. If I had, I probably 
would have hid behind the heavy weights."
	"Sure you would have. They tried -repeatedly- to keep you out of 
it, and you insisted on getting back in harm's way. Not that I'm entirely 
unfamiliar with the concept... Jay tried very hard to keep me from 
running off with the cult... but I thought I was doing the right thing. 
Stubborn me."
	"Well, we all what we believe to be the right thing."
	"It's pretty hard -not- to, really."
	"My main concern wasgetting yon demon out of you before they 
started listening to Gabby's plan."
	She jumps. "Shit. I forgot all about her." She eyes him 
curiously. "What was her plan?"
	"Oh, nothing much. Something about killing you and the like." He 
sighs. "She seemed pretty intent on it, so I wanted to get Mr. Demon 
evicted before she had the chance, or someone else took
her advice to heart. We had a long chat afterward." He smiles. "She's 
really quite nice, despite the fact that she hates your guts."
	She sighs. "I wonder what I supposedly did to her. The real 
Gabrielle never was entirely rational about the curse thing... so I 
suppose I made a good enemy to work into her character's background. What 
is she, anyway? Kindred?"
	"Gabby? No, she's a Nocker. And she said that she hated you 
because you betrayed the Dreaming or something. That you used to be one 
of them, and then betrayed them somehow. Didn't you know this?"
	"She wrote me as a changeling? I suppose I should be 
flattered..." She shakes her head. "No, I have no idea what -that- Gabby 
thinks. Her Author and I went to school together. We were friends - 
briefly - and then we found out a little too much about each other and 
ourselves, and things got weird. She went crazy, she blamed me for things 
I don't remember doing, or at least she claimed to, but she's a 
pathological liar, so who can tell?"
	"Wait, are you talking about Gabby or her 'author', here? Which 
is the liar, and is that why you weren't friends for long?"
	"Her author. I don't -know- that Gabby - she slapped me when I 
tried to talk to her." She sighs. "And even if I felt like talking about 
why we stopped being friends, you wouldn't understand anyway. No one ever 
does. I doubt -she- does, anymore. We're both too good at rewriting our 
own heads... But I'll always wonder if she -really- thinks I cursed 
her... maybe so, if she cast me as the Enemy...  I never knew she 
gamed... I suppose she might have just started, now, in college, and 
written herself, well, almost herself.... and chosen to cast me as the 
Enemy from the Past." She smiles. "How sweet. She still cares."
	"Hey, it's a start." Plots smiles disarmingly.
	"It may be cliched, but it doesn't mean it's not true... love and 
hate are almost the same thing."
	He shrugs. "But trust me, next time, I'll stay out of the fight, 
whatever it is."
	"And then feel guilty for not helping? Don't worry about it."
	"Huh, worrying is one of my best traits."
	"And turns your own energy against yourself, usually..."
	"Not really. Worrying, for me, just points out all sorts of 
little things to consider. And even if I can't change them, at they have 
been recognized so I don't feel surprised when they happen. Easier to 
adjust then."
	"Sometimes even knowing for certain what's going to happen 
doesn't make it easier to deal with when it does," she says.
	Gegi mentions Ohio, where Plots lives, and he reacts. Gegi looks 
as if she would be sympathetic if she weren't so tired. "I'm sorry. 
Should I stop?"
	"Forget about it. You're the first one I've talked to really 
in-depth in a long time. It'd happen to anyone. If I dredge up another 
aspect of my past, just glaze over it, and it'll blend back into the 
background."
	"If that's the way you want it..."
	"Well, unless you want me to mention something everytime I 
remember it. I can fall into that trap easily, and it's not the most 
exciting thing for the person I'm talking to."
	"I don't mind. No information is ever wasted... 'sides, I do it 
myself. Images from the past walk up and knock me across the head and I 
find myself compelled to explain what I'm remembering to whoever's 
listening. Most people just tune me out."
	"Most people would miss out on something that could help them later.
	She smiles. "Following my trains of thought generally requires 
extensive note-taking..."
	"Still, when it's me talking, I can't see how my simple problems 
could compare to some of the heavyweights around here. Like the end of 
the world."
	"Well, it's all related, after all... everything ties in. Ripples 
through the pattern, microcosm reflecting macrocosm... everything's 
important."
	"But how can you tell what's important, and what's trivial?"
	"I simply assume that it's all important. Ever spent a few hours 
staring at rain patterns on windows?"
	"Oh yeah. Those and the hearts of a warm fire, a flowing stream, 
the clouds in the sky as they play hide and seek with the sun...I usually 
daydream my best at those times."
	"Comes from having to spend several hours a week on a chair in a 
dark room not wanting to move or make a sound.... the mind wanders."
	"Of course, the idea of everything being important is dangerous 
to try and comprehend. You'll be trying to understand everything that 
takes place in the universe, and it'd be like trying to fit an ocean into 
an eyedropper. Your brain would overload so quickly..." He shudders. "It 
would be bad. I prefer the idea of random chance to everything being 
planned out."
	"Oh, I don't try to analyze it... if I -did- figure things out, 
it would  probably blow my brain out through my ears. You can't contain 
the universe in your head and not suffer some nasty side effects... no, 
it just all flows in and collects and flows through me. I work by 
intuition, not logic... being
consciously subconscious is a talent. Things happen."
	"Oh yeah, things happen. I often find that I act without thinking 
in sudden situations, but other times I look at it from every angle. My 
mind has gotten so open that it's impossible to shut it now. As I 
remember a friend of mine saying, How far can you open your mind before 
your brain falls out?" He chuckles. "I've found out."
	"The problem is when your mind falls out and something steps in 
to take its place..."

15
	Gegi speaks with Mitch, the strange-eyed man. "You know what I 
was, you see what I am; change me, change me!" he says.
	"I can guess, I see only what I am not careful not to see, and 
you are the one to do the changing, but you know that."
	"Yes. Yesofcourse. But I'm slipping, breaking up, going down, so 
to speak - reality is the ultimate bad acid trip..."
	"I wrap the fog around my brain to float free, and they cannot 
touch me."
	"No, more like 'I am burning, I cannot hide, I am nothing, I've 
lost my pride'. All things touch me. Especially the bad ones."
	"Everything comes into me, but I let it all out again... I hold 
everything and nothing, and not what I want to hold..." She looks 
surprised, as if she hadn't meant to say that last.
	"A mirror. But if I am a mirror, it is a broken one, all rainbows 
and glittering, but in the end something that's broken."
	"Who lives in the mirror when there is no light?"
	"If a tree falls in the woods and it hits a mime, does anyone 
really care?"
	"I never really understood the antagonism towards mimes... except 
the typical human condescension for anyone else's world, especially if 
they can't see it..."
	While he's talking he seems to become somehow *unfocused*, as if 
he's softly and silently drifting apart.
	She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a large clear quartz 
crystal, which she holds between them like a candle. "The light shines."
	With an almost audible 'snap', he comes back into focus. "Please 
don't startle me. I bite."
	"As do I, but I try not to do so without permission."
	"The problem is that parts of me respond badly to surprises, 
parts I don't really control. No crude jokes, please."
	She nods. "I attack sometimes. If overstimulated, or startled. 
Unfortunately some people don't understand this and continue to try to 
tickle me."
	She drops her hand. "The world's coming to an end, you know."
	"Isn't it always?"
	"The danger comes closer. What do you know of it?"
	"Oh, this and that - all things break apart in the end - if not 
before that. How was it Yeats said? Oh, yes. 'The centre does not hold.'
	"The falcon cannot hear the falconer."
	"Oh, well, nothing lasts forever, and I don't wish for the world 
to do either."
	She nods. "But does it have to hurt?"
	"All things hurt. Being born, living, dying. Life and death, the 
cycle, endless, but now it's spinning down, slowing, fighting against the 
entropy gradient. I don't believe in the Omega Point, at least not beyond 
an Omegon."
	"It's always slowing. We need entropy to survive... and to know 
that we do."
	"To know what could have been done, rather. And infinite negative 
entropy, or at least increasing negative entropy, is said to imply 
eternal life."
	"Increasing anentropia. The pain fades, and things become truer, 
purer. But in the instant when it become -eternal-, then there is no life."
	"Pretty appropriate in my opinion. People keeping the watch 
against darkness slipping, rotting inside, dying in their minds, burning 
tainted fires in their hearts..."
	"It is the fire that I seek and flee."
	"I burn, burn, mind, body and soul. I can't stop. My brain has 
been - speared. Half an inch of crysteel through your frontal lobes makes 
for an impressive argument."
	"Did you surrender?"
	"How could I not? My brain changed. It changed the *me* that I 
am, my sense of self and my view of the world. I Awoke."
	She sighs. "And I remain only a restless sleeper, not truly in 
control of the powers at my command."
	"Fasoma Span. It's all...disjointed brokentatters! Nothing whole, 
only smallestbitsofeverything."
	"Small is big and big is small and it all comes down to a bit of 
fairy cake, really. What's fairy cake?"
	"No. I can show you Fasoma Span if you like... Be warned though, 
it burns. It burns like acid ice in your brain."
	"Do you think it's a good idea?"
	"I don't know. Do you? It can be very dangerous. But then, what isn't?"
	"I wish only to see with what is in me. No one else's power. No 
demons, no deals. I am enough."
	"Have you got a knife? I can show some of it that way - just a 
glimpse, to keep the Flowers from finding you."
	"A wooden knife and a sword, but I'm not drawing either without 
clearer instructions." She caresses the snake's-head atop her cane.
	"I need the knife for some of my blood, and a candle... It helps 
me focus and bring my thoughts together from where they've strayed."
	"Candle I don't have. I'd offer you the sword, but it's a bit 
long to cut yourself with neatly."
	"Candle...Check." He pulls one from somewhere, and places it 
central on the table. "Since you don't have a knife, I'll fix 
something..." Then he lifts his right hand to his mouth, and bites off 
half the outmost section of his index finger. She flinches. With the 
stump he begins to draw intricate symbols, behaving in somewhat ... 
unusual ways, like slipping between being obtuse and acute when you're 
not looking at it, and seeming to point *out* of the room, to some other 
place.
	She watches, trying not to look too closely, just in case.
	Mitch begins to whisper to himself.  "Blood calls blood, blood 
feeds blood, blood was, blood is, blood shall ever be...."