The mauled Garret stops. "So what if you decide to throw them out...and I fight you?" he asks. The other Garret grins. "If you think you can fight me and still concentrate on the path, be my guest. I'm pleased as punch to go down with the ship. What about you?" Garret's shoulders slump in defeat. "On the other hand, perhaps we could keep him occupied while you do what you must, no?" "Occupied doing what?" laughs normal Garret. "You wouldn't last twenty seconds against me, elfboy. You've forgotten one of the primal laws of the universe: any being is stronger on home ground. Your spells may be mighty impressive out there, but in here, they're just pretty lightshows." He leans foward, an aura of menace settling around him like a cloak. "I can twist you, hurt you. I can call out to the shadow inside you, and get it to come out and play. Pain is a universal language, elfboy." "So why don't you do it, then, instead of trying to talk us to death?", Astarial sneers back, completely unintimidated. "It's because you can't, isn't it? This isn't your home ground, but his. ::gestures at mauled Garret:: He's the primary, and you're nothing more than a subpersonality, a creature of the bottom-mind sludge of old fears and repressed unself impulses. You have no real power except that which he gives you. All you can do is bluster, threaten and deceive. Unless you can talk him into giving up, you're *nothing*." Astarial consults Martin again, subvocalising:: <> "You're in luck, she's already here. If you extend two-way interaction to this headset, I'll create an interactive hologram so she can enter the mindscape." <<::surprise, unasked questions:: Excellent. I had thought to ask you to give her your lace, but if you think you can manage it with a hologram, that's all right.>> "Well, I wouldn't want to give up a ring-side seat, would I?" <> (a pause) "Okay, done." Martin appears in the mindscape, next to Astarial. He reaches down to fiddle with a device on one of his braces. He appears to be speaking briefly, but no sound can be heard. <> Normal Garret looks at Martin with distaste. "Christ, Garret. We die and it turns into a party. Any minute now a live band is gonna show up to watch your decayed ass traipse along the yellow-brick-road." "Actually that can be arranged. Do you want lamenters?" asks Frederic. "Don't you ever shut up?" asks mauled Garret wearily. "Sure. Just look up at me and you'll never have to listen to me again. Real simple." Martin finishes adjusting the equipment, and the Kiasyd enters the mindscape... "This is a between place, between life and death. We *would* be nicely dead now, but he (gestures at mauled Garret) refuses to go on. It would be nice if you could talk some sense into him." "Oh, I have someone better to do that, if you'll wait a moment." Astarial's smile has knives in it. The unharmed Garret notices Rhiannon for the first time. At first, it looks worried, but then a slow, cruel smile nearly splits his face in half. He turns to Astarial. "Elfboy, I could kiss you. I think you've given me just what I need to make the walking corpse here finally give up." A worried look flickers over Astarial's face for a moment. But only for a moment. He gets up and drifts over to mauled Garret. "Pretty yourself up, dead-dude. Your sweetie's here." "Shut up." snaps mauled Garret. "I told you, you tried that trick already, it didn't work." "Oh, but that's the joy of it, other-half-of-mine. I don't *have* to lie, because she's really here, staring at your decayed carcasse as we speak. Why don't you turn a bit to the left so she can get a nice look at that exit wound." He turns to Rhiannon, and the cruelty in that look is something to be feared. "Point-blank. Hurt like a bitch, but not for very long. I mean, how can you live very long when a .44 slug tears your throat out? And this idiot spends his last goddam moments in anguish because he's sure he's never going to see you again." Rhiannon winces, but manages to re-establish her neutral mask fairly quickly this time, having already seen much of it in the pub. Normal Garret smiles daggers. "What's the matter? This doesn't bother you, does it?" He shakes his head. "What a sap. He just doesn't get it. *You* don't love us. *Nobody* can love us. We're twisted. We're evil. I could tell you things about Garret, about us, that would make your hair white, vampire or no vampire. I know all of his dirty little secrets. Lust. Wrath. Fear. All that seven-deadly-bullshit. Thoughts he's so ashamed of he buried them so deep even *he* doesn't know about them." "You don't love us. And when I prove it, he'll finally give up, because he won't have anything left to hang on to." He smiles again. "She really is here, isn't she?" asks Mauled Garret softly. "Aye." Rhiannon says quietly from behind the two Garrets, so intently focused on them that it's unsure if she's simply ignoring the others in the mindscape as unimportant, or truly hasn't noticed them. "But as to what thou thinks," she hesitates, then continues, "I know there wert parts in thy heart that I couldst nay understand - but it made no difference, as thy presence still danced in mine heart, cariad. Yet, if thou still believes that thine past actions be enow to give me a disgust of thee in despite of who thou'rt now, I suspect thou hast t'same trouble in regard to I. Or maybe anyone, mortal as well, an thou believes that neither Joseph nor I couldst truly love thee an we knew thee better." Mauled Garret sinks down to his knees, his eye still focused on the path ahead. "Rhiannon-" he chokes, casting out a hand in the direction of her voice. She takes it gently. And he grips it tightly. It's odd how real everything feels here, she can even feel the calluses on Garret's hands from where he practices knife-fighting. "Shut up," snaps Normal Garret, looking angrily at Rhiannon. "Oh, you're a clever one. Butter wouldn't melt on *your* tongue. But I know the truth. Love is a goddam lie. Pain is the only reality. And the truth is, people don't care about you unless they want something from you. I'm not like him," he says waving at Mauled Garret, who winces. "He's weak. He thinks he can wipe the grime and the shit off himself by sacrificing himself for others. He can't see that the grime is really inside. His redemption is a lie, and I want no part of it. If he really wanted to make the world a better place, he'd kill himself." "That conclusion doth nay follow from thy premises." "Of course it does," he snaps impatiently. "Haven't you been listening? We're evil. The world would be better off without us, ergo, by destroying us, the world is made a better place." Trying to explain, she continues, "T'darkness may be quiet and peaceful, clear of distractions, and untroubled by aught of danger, whilst t'light be likely to burn one, even if doth nay blind, and wilt certainly cause pain. Yet without t'light, t'shadows wilt nay form, and without t'shadows, there be naught to experience, t'joys as much as t'sorrows. Aye, I know that thou hast done that which thou now wishes desperately hadst not. But without t'light of that experience, thou wouldst nay have t'shadows to understand mine. And focusing only on t'fire within oneself be as foolish as staring only at t'darkness and denying that t'shadows imply a light behind one." "Oh, *that's* cute. Let's see, how many times have I heard that one-" "Enough." says mauled Garret. His voice is not loud, but it carries and echoes throughout the darkness. "Getting feisty, are we?" says normal Garret, turning to his wounded counterpart. "Feeling some fight? Bullshit. You *are* me. How much of that guilt have you really let go of, hm? How much still keeps you up at night? You listen to me a lot more than you'd like to think, Garret. The truth is, I *own* you. You *let* me hurt you because deep down, you think you deserve it. You *know* you deserve it. And the more you try to push me away, the deeper my hold on you is. And eventually, you won't be able to care for anyone, because you'll be too busy hurting." "Maybe," he says slowly, getting to his feet, "You are right." Normal Garret smirks. "And maybe you're full of fertilizer." The grin falters. "You know, I've been listening to you, and you know what I think you are? I think you're fear. I think you're playing this game because you...because *I*...am, in some form or fashion, afraid to live. Afraid to love. It's easier to wallow in hurt, make it into a shield, to keep people away. Well, I don't *want* to keep people away, you see. Especially not Rhiannon. And if I have to choose between you and her... Then I choose her." Rhiannon looks at Garret, her expression rather amazed, surprised, and quite remarkably sappy. Trying to remain logical, she points out, "But I want all of thee - and if thou'rt willing to take me even with my doubts, which be remarkably similar to thine, then canst I do less in return?" He shakes his head. "This is not about destroying him, Rhiannon. This is about not letting him rule me anymore." Normal Garret makes a rude noise and folds his arms, looking at Rhiannon malevolently. Frederic looks at the Garrets and the glowing silver path. "So like, not turning back and stuff, even though Phoenix is gone? Those of us fluent in the dimensions said there still is a thread. Mind to explain the rules?" Mauled Garret shrugs. "Don't look up from the path, or be stranded here. Don't listen to my dark side. Keep moving. There must be a way back, but I don't know exactly how to do it." "What he means is, he can't do it without my help," cuts in normal Garret, "And I won't give it to him. So we're at a stalemate, but one I'll win. Sooner or later, he's going to look up, out of sheer despair if nothing else." "And if you reach the end of it? What is he trying to do? What are we allowed to do?" "Nothing I don't want you to, horn-baby." smirks normal Garret. "He's partially right. You can't bring me back, but you can at least go out and try to use what I've told you to shut the rift. I'll either find the end of the path, or I won't," says mauled Garret. "Oh, there isn't any-" normal Garret shuts up, an 'oops' look on his face. Mauled Garret stops. "There isn't any *what*?" Normal Garret is silent. Mauled Garret remains utterly still, thinking. Suddenly, his face turns angry. "You oily little bastard. You *want* me to keep walking the path, don't you? Fucking reverse-psychology. Christ, how could I be so stupid? This path doesn't *have* an end, does it? I haven't gotten *anywhere*, have I?" "Damn." says normal Garret softly. Mauled Garret steels himself, and lifts his eyes fromt he path, looking straight at his "double". "Round one goes to me." The path snaps with a delicate *tink* sound, leaving everything in darkness. Normal Garret hisses. "NO! Let us go on. NONONONO!" Mauled Garret looks weary. "He's right there, at least. It's...wrong to try and regain a life that's gone." "'Tis wrong to try to regain a life that is gone, if 'tis nay thine. If thou thinks that thy turn on thy Cycle has been ended, then 'tis that I shall be grateful for t'chance to say fare-thee-well. If thou feels that be not so," she clamps her mouth shut, the depths of her harbinger's eyes showing a struggle, but she finishes, "then 'tis thy choice, and none else." Mauled Garret looks uncertain. "I...I don't *want* to go. But I'm not sure what's right." "It's academic anyway." says Normal Garret smugly. "He can't go back across the Pana without my help. He's not strong enough." Mauled Garret, who seems to be regaining more and more of his confidence with each passing moment, snorts. "Half-true, as usual. I can't cross without help. It doesn't matter whether I get it from you or not. And you were lying about the path, too. It kept me here. The real way to win was to let go of it." They look at one another. It's not a pleasant look. Quietly, she adds, "Thou shouldst know that for me, it hath been nigh 30 years sith last I saw thee, and t'rules of t'world have changed considerably, with all mortals now being mages at some point in their lives, though prone to lose all trace of magery instead of suffering Paradox. And when Kao-liang informed me that he hadst found t'pub again, and that thou hadst returned to it quite shot up, my first thought was that thou hadst been reborn and remembered who thou wert in thy last life, sith that be thy belief, nay that when I returned to t'pub, 'twould be almost at t'same point in time as I left." She offers the two Garrets a shy smile, "In fact, I hadst been wondering when thou wouldst come by to claim thy belongings from me, and whether thou wouldst have found Joseph as well, this time 'round." Both of them blink in astonishment. "Whoa," says Mauled Garret. The black background of the mindscape begins shifting to grey. Both Garrets look around nervously. "We'll have to straighten this out later," says Mauled Garret. "Rhiannon, listen quickly, I don't have time to explain: His name is not his name. I mean that he has no name as we understand it. If he asks, refuse the riddle outright, tell him you can't answer. I think it's some sort of test to see how truthful you are." Normal Garret howls. "No, dammit! This isn't fair!" "Round one is over," replies Mauled Garret, "Time for round two." And with that, the mindscape dissolves.