Scene #7805: Like "Family"-Overflow

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	"Nope," answers Candy with ease. "I can't imagine that at all." "But I think, after talking to you... I don't have to. You're right, you know. That it don't end just cause I 'persuade' her. I don't think she's -gonna- be persuaded. Not with who she is. Especially not after the past few days." "But I'll tell you what you can do," he says confidently. "You can stick up for her, here, when 'mother and father' start in on whatever bullshit they like to do. It's not about persuading her, ah? It's about making this place a home. Somewhere she can be safe and loved. Maybe you talk to Cecilia, get some pointers from her." "Me, I will..." He sighs. "Find some way to make it up to her, 'cause I have a feeling Mexican soil is as good as English soil for whoever runs that place she's gone off to," he says, weakly smiling, pausing... "...and it wasn't just her that said fucked up things, last time we talked," he then admits, guiltily looking away. "I gotta take off. Listen, ah... thank you. Very much." He presses something else into her hands. It's a little folded piece of paper with a warpgate address and directions. "When everything calms down around here, maybe you make an unannounced visit to my place? Fair's fair." Candy wrinkles his nose at her. Then he's simply gone. Katrina frowns a little at Candy at first. "Don't say it like that. She's not unreasonable. Not normally. Sometimes just talking to her really worked, when it counted a lot in the past. I don't know what your friend did, but it must have been pretty bad." But her ability to be cross with him dies the instant he suggests the words 'stick up for her'. She visibly wilts. "I could . . . stick around for a little while longer . . . and talk to Cecilia . . . but . . ." Now they both get to look guiltily away. "Okay." she says, followed by "So don't die."
Lilian Rook	This may be more easily said than done. All things that are 'gone' from one place 'are' somewhere else. To go means to go to a different place. And Candy hadn't been there for the fearful four way pileup of girls staring out the front window and being spooked. When he teleports to the outdoor grounds, the dustless yet somehow stagnant indoor air replaced with the cold scents of wild things, everyone looking through the aforementioned front view gets to see him pop into existence just beyond the outer garden wall, and all the wards they'd circumvented on the way here, and right in front of the seven foot shadow in the woods. If it had been cold inside, if it had been cold in the snow, if it had been cold in the disturbed library, it is bitterly freezing five feet away from her. Candy looks up into a face white as snow, so pale he can't make out a nose or mouth save by silhouette alone, with slightly too-large eyes as black as coals, pointed ears, and untamed hair like glittering translucent hoarfrost. A six foot sword, blade finished like ripples on a jet black pond, floats just over one shoulder as if strapped to her back. When she looks down to acknowledge his presence, it sounds like grinding stones and cracking frozen gravel. The creature that is slave to dreams Choosing new and more intoxicating masters Flees towards his cruellest dream yet. However, though she solidly blocks his way, the entity doesn't draw her weapon yet. Those exiting into the garden are safe for just a little while, but they can see two nearly identical beings appearing from the left and right, one coming from the direction of the shore with the sound of whispering leaves and creaking branches bearing a jet black blade striated like wind-scoured cliff faces, and one coming from the direction of the stones with the sound of cold splashing water and bearing a sable blade dappled like forest shadows. They're forming up around Candy, enclosing him on all sides in a danger triangle of egregiously menacing women. They're also directly blocking off the path to the one arch he actually knows will get him in and out. Whether he can teleport past them isn't really a concern or question in this configuration.
Lilian Rook	"Our experiences are more alike than you think they are. ... Even if mine aren't quite as bad. Maybe it's selfish and unfair of me to look for this solution; I know I can't forgive her for you. But if it's as bad as I think it is, that might be the only solution we have." "If I were determined to hurt people, how would you stop me? The easiest way would just be to make me not want it anymore, right?" She straightens up and keeps walking, briefly quickening her pace to keep up with the two short girls in the lead. Then the second thing halts her. Staren recommends she look out a window. And she does. Her lips purse in distinct concern. A gentle telekinetic force tugs on Cantio and Hibiki, halting them in their tracks and pulling them back towards her. She points out the window. "I think we should go," Persephone says. She's never had a tone of urgency in her life, but she certainly sounds firm. Persephone's question hangs resonantly unanswered just for the moment. Going outside herself, she is accosted by no immediate danger, and no further changes besides the recent tilling and planting that's somehow gone on near the elder rowan, alongside a tiny splattering of human blood. However, even if she should fail her obscure storybook folklore roll, it's pretty obvious that the second she opens that gate again, that will change; it will also change for everyone still inside the house too. Cantio and Hibiki wouldn't be particularly prevented from entering the library. The fireplace has since started to smoulder back to life again in Flamel's and Staren's absence, gradually reawakening the warmth and light in the room, so that Lilian's study cove isn't the only thing to navigate by, but the ghostly presence still isn't feeling very helpful. Of course, Candy actually learned a lot of what they wanted to know, but he is currently in grave peril.
Lilian Rook	Flamel, who is not part of a four girl pileup because he is not a girl and also technically went outside invisible, is in an identical situation. The gate will kind of give away the minute he exits, and scaling the little garden walls means contending with the layered ward problems he picked the gate in order to not deal with on the way in.
Candy	"Hi! You must be the sisters." Candy smiles up at the one directly in front of him, whose movements make sounds of cracking gravel and grinding stone. He glances around him, turning slightly so that the others can see his smiling face, before he continues. "You haven't drawn on me yet, so I'm guessing you're waiting for something to happen, ah?" He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm Mexican, so all of this is new to me. If you're expecting me to know the right thing to do..." Candy giggles, rubbing a foot in the snow in affected bashfulness. "Sorry. I don't." "I came here 'cause I was pissed off. Then I found out I didn't have any right to be. Right now, what I'd like to do is go home and figure out how I can be better for Lilian. I really, really, don't want my last words to her being as ugly as they were." hah. When I said she'd wish she'd listened... when I said I'd make a huge goddamn mess for her, I didn't mean I'd -be- the mess. Fuck. "So tell me what you want from me, and I'll roll up my sleeves and do it." An impish smile curls across his lips, as he slowly turns to let the three of them see it. "I'm warning you, though... getting beat up by tall girls doesn't have the effect on me you think it will.~"
Cantio	Finding herself nudged backwards for some reason, Cantio wriggles briefly before realizing (based on hearing Persephone) that it's probably wiser not to proceed to the library right away. "Eh? Did something happen?" She asks while heading for the window instead to look outside, catching sight of that blood near the tree and furrowing her brow at what that might mean. Cantio definitely fails her obscure storybook folklore roll. To be fair, though, it's not like she's had anything of the sort! "Wait. Weren't Flamel and Staren out there? And Candy was... Somewhere inside, right? And I thought I saw Xion, too..." She sounds mildly concerned as she asks that, hurrying up some to keep up with Persephone on the way outside. The library, sadly, will have to wait for after confirming the safety of her allies. There's a whole bunch of them to try and keep track of, though, so she releases a drone to help her keep watch in the opposite direction she's moving. With any luck, she might spot someone on the way out! Either way, upon exiting the house, Cantio's already got a sword handle in hand as her briefcase pops open to release multiple floating pieces of plasticky metal, preparing to connect together into some kind of sword shape without committing to the bit just yet. "Mister Candy! Mister Flamel! Staren! Miss Xion! Where are you?"
Persephone Kore	As she trots out into the front garden, Persephone catches the recent tilling and the splatter of blood out of the corner of her eye. The former doesn't worry her; the latter makes concern flicker across her face, given the circumstances. She spares a moment to ask why it's there, just in the spirit of making sure everyone they came with is okay- Xion's been awful quiet, hasn't she?- but doesn't linger on it long. Her primary attention is on the three otherworldly Sisters, and Candy trapped right in the middle of them. Some deep-down instinct prevents her from flinging open the gate. I promised I wouldn't make a mess of things, didn't I? I'd be letting the letter-sender and a lot of other people down if I did that! Phony holds an arm out, gesturing to anyone behind her that they ought to stay back, and concentrates on the Sisters intently. The first order of business: readying to telekinetically intercept should any of them betray tells of being about to attack Candy, psychically or physically. The second: If there's a way out of this that doesn't mean leaving a crater, I'll take it. Why are you the way that you are?
Staren	Staren floats after Phony. While Candy and Phony assure her the eldritch hellspirits will be handled, she can't help but spin mental wheels trying to find some way to fight. She reaches into her messenger bag and pulls out a SIG 220-series knockoff, ejecting a magazine of blue-white glowing cartridges which she puts in the bag then pulls out a magazine of silver-plated rounds which she loads, pulling back the slide once to chamber the first round. She keeps it handy. She summons her magitech staff of Desiccate the Supernatural, now with shoulder strap for carrying, checks the battery compartment, and slings it over her shoulder. Finally, she warps in a vial of black dust mixed with salt; Phony can see in her mind that it is part of a warding 'ritual' improvised long ago to harm things that step on the dust (harmful nanites) and there is no reason except desperate hope to expect it to do shit to flying opposition. She puts it in a small pouch on her armor. When Cantio calls out, Staren just looks back towards her briefly. The group isn't exactly hiding! As they gets close to Candy and the Sisters, Staren floats anxiously behind Phony's shoulder, pistol drawn and ready but kept pointed at the ground for now.
Hibiki Tachibana	Phony's words once again put Hibiki in that very clearly thoughtful state of mind, to the point she doesn't intially realize that she's fallen behind her and Cantio. It's only that invisible tug that stops her and snaps her back to reality, glancing back. That's not a tone she's really ever heard out of Persephone before. "Huh? But we're just about to..." Following Cantio's attention out the window, combined with some of the radio chatter, she gets an idea of what's sort of going on. Oh. Oh. In short order, she's clenching her fists and sprinting after Persephone on her way outside. The library isn't as important as this. As much as she wants to find out what the deal with Scathach is and more information in general, there's no way in hell she's going to go book-diving while Candy might potentially get hurt. Maybe he or one of the others even found something about it while they were in there. She'll worry about it when this is done with. Leading outside, where she has a completely nonexistent lore-check when it comes to any bloodsplatters in favor of moving straight ahead, clearly intent on leaping the wall if she has to once she gets a handle on the situation. "Candy--! If you...!" But with Persephone beckoning them to hold back briefly, Hibiki begrudgingly skids to a stop just behind her. She's almost about to question it, but after a moment of thought, she tensely remains in place with a frown, watching what's happening just outside the gate. If she needs to end up moving at a moment's notice...
Flamel Parsons	Flamel isn't here. Or, rather, he just flatly refuses to come out of invisibility once their path is blocked. Literally zero people involved in this, from Candy to the fae, are safe to brain-dive into. What's one who would be? Where could he put psychic pressure to be able to get through this? Wait, the staff are mundane, right? And with what Candy did, they didn't even experience an alarm! Maybe... Flamel can try to reach back into the mansion astrally, trancing out in the real world while he parses through the mundanes within the home. Can he turn through the pages of their brains and find a guide to how to get out of the estate when the menacing fae are here? Rituals, offerings, things that ought to be said, or even ideal combat techniques? If he can find any data, he's going to be relaying that to the others ASAP. But it's a bit of a hail mary; at the moment, it's all he can do, and he doesn't expect great success.
Lilian Rook	'What is thy desire that begs thee so direly to lower thy head?' Xion opens her mouth, closes it, swallows, and then speaks as clearly as she can, laying her right hand over her chest as she does. "Love." tShe continues with a fistful of her top squeezed tight in her hand. Her other hangs balled at her side. "I want to save her. Lilian. I thought she was the one who I couldn't read, so I could be Xion to her, and be the hero of her heart too. I thought I was so smart, and wise, to give her distance. That she would ask me, 'Xion, let me take care of this myself'." She hangs her head. Her arms go slack. The light goes out in her tone. "I don't need to touch a heart to hear it. The sounds it makes. It's just an easy way. A convenient way. I can just listen to people, and know that they need help." Her chin comes up, and fat tears run down her face. She doesn't waver in stance, but her shoulders quake. "Her heart is... it's screaming for me to come save it, and I thought I was s-so smart giving her space, and... and time." She draws in, inhaling and swallowing and making something of it, and then deliberately unclenches her arms and draws them together, before her, and bows down at the waist to a floor-facing angle. "Please tell me how to save her. The disciple everyone wants to see succeed." The very very very old ghost that Xion confronts, alone, indeed allows her to do exactly as promised: to say her piece. No interruptions. No suggestions. Not even the faintest twist of her well-remembered expression to guide Xion any which way in her confession. Dead silence, until the girl is done speaking, bowed and tearful and quaking. "Such is the bowed head I remember. Oft carried by warriors whence the wisdom of king and king did fail them in matters of gods. And of love. A fairer reason to be than most any. By rights I should slay thee for any other." But then there's a long gap. The kind of length only possible for a very old person with a very long memory to search and no cares left to hurry them along, letting the seconds slip through their fingers without noticing. "Time and space. The girl has nothing but. An ocean of distance surrounds her below, and an empty heaven of endless time above. For the way she hides her heart, thou art forgiven. But thee and I occupy but a sliver of time, a finger of space, in that life, and all between those moments, she is alone. To make less than the fullest of use of the moments we have is folly always, but all the more so when the girl thou greet each day may be greeting thee in turn at the end of long voyages unbeknownst to us." "Amongst all the line of Aodhan, within all those who offer their lives to the sword, she is yet a slayer like no other. Without duty or temperance, a flower raised by iron hands, ungiven to the sword, yet unable to escape the doom of wielding it. Dost thou know, sheathed-blade child, why it is that one seeks strength? A girl who hath no need of it whatsoever; whose heart is already hardened to all trials she shouldst ever face and fingers already skilled in all crafts she shouldst ever ply?" "The girl seeks the strength to treat thee and thy kind with the gentle care she knew not. The strength she was born to . . . It would so readily imperil thee, drown thee, crush thee, in hands too strong for the heart to wield them. And yet she seeks strength even greater than that. So that it may be that she may never be roused to fear or to wrath or to spasms of pain. So that those hands may hold themselves still, unawakened to white-knuckled motions she cannot master, and then in those calmed and gentle hands she may hold thee and thine without death." "Gods forgive thee, those who deny that girl the privilege. Those that bite the hand that holds them too unsoftly for their liking will only find it clenching about their throat in reflex."
Lilian Rook	Peering into the history of the elder rowan so recently shows Persephone Xion's short talk in the long way of trees. Her scattering of flowers and offering blood, her rootless flower mingling with its flowerless roots and sealing their pact. The berry is taken and protection is given. Xion descends the stairs to the place of powerful magic underground.
Lilian Rook	Flamel scanning the minds of the sleeping staff finds little helpful knowledge of this situation. It's all knowledge of how to not be in this situation, actually! Most of what he learns is from Katrina just before she somehow vanishes from the house again by heading into the middle. He and Persephone briefly share overlapping gains in knowledge: The Sisters of the Sable Woods, the Onyx Shores, and the Raven Stones were defeated centuries ago by the last knight in the family line to hold any strong psychic gravitas in anyone's heads, but said knight was insufficiently powerful to actually kill them. Instead, those in the family still practising the old arts brought over from the homeland forced a bargain with them. The Sisters retain their land, but must tolerate those who are part of the Rook family tree to live on its edge here, and raise no hand against them through inaction either, obligated to defend it from tresspass as they would anywhere else. What is specifically pertinent to Flamel is twofold: One is that the faeries loathe cold-- no 'north' iron, better translated, which means literal magnetic lodestone. Two is that the pact that both restricts and blesses their blades with strength is that none of them may draw their own sword. The lesser creatures that might serve as squires long-since run out, they are bound together as bond-sisters specifically so that each of them is there when the other wishes to fight, in lieu of fairie queens and courts that no longer exist. What matters to Persephone is that Even they would sit at no table with that sword, which represents fear and hate to their kith and kin. And so it was that, within the bargain, the code was struck that any amongst the line of Aodhan who would wish to bear the blade, upon their twentieth winter, would be be excluded from the contract for three days, and in that time each Sister would have her one opportunity to wreak just retribution upon them. The fear of their might soon quelled the lineage of knighthood to little more than a memory, becoming ceremony and status as the wars of the world spread and settled and cooled and the mystic arts went into hiding. The elder brother chose too late in life, and only out of dire necessity, and retired the sword with a black burn upon his soul. The youngest daughter chose just in time to lack a decade of preparation for such a trial, and yet won her life from them regardless. Permeating them is the natural contempt of the Unseelie for mortal life, the specific grudge for the rape of the earth brought upon by modernity, and a sense of strange, begrudging indignance, that invaders would bring dishonour on the proud and cruel one who had bested them.
Lilian Rook	Candy has yet to explode into Much Candy, but it doesn't seem like that state of affairs will hold for long. Once they're formed up nice and dangerously close around him, each of the faeries extends her hand and takes her nearest sister's sword, the black blades doing a rotation along the triangle to find their proper wielder. The sister that sounds like stones and comes from the woods offers the wave-rippled blade to the sister that sounds like leaves and comes from the shore who offers the stone-striped blade to the sister that sounds like splashing water and comes from the standing stones who offers the shade-dappled blade to the sister that comes from the woods, defined by the thing that they spring from but that they are not. Persephone has a Readied Action to deal with them all swinging at Candy at once, but the Sisters are much, much faster than Persephone can actually track; preemptively protecting Candy in specific from all sides results in a triangle of crossed blades arrested in mid-air at his neck, his waist, and his knees in concert. He has less than a second more than them to figure out what to do, before they all suddenly drop their swords, the adjacent sister catches them, and throws them back to their rightful bearer again, all at the same time.
Candy	Less than a second is plenty of time when you can stretch it to an absurd degree. So that's how it is? You're not even gonna say nothing? Just gonna try and stick me? Not even the fun kind of sticking, neither... Candy doesn't at all move from his spot. He kicks at the snow, three times, which moves perhaps an inch before it's frozen in mid-flight. I picked this up for Limey, but since you all want it so bad, I'll give it to you, ah? You just remember what a good thing you passed up when your heads are pounding tomorrow. The longcoat comes off, thrown over his shoulder, to reveal a tank top, suspenders, and two bare, scrawny arms. It freezes in place a second after, splayed out before Sable Woods. Candy bounces in place, throwing out a few testing jabs, spreading his stance, keeping his guard up. Here it comes, motherfuckers. In frozen time, Candy opens up on the three like they're speedbags, weaving around each to batter them with a flurry of bodyblows. Time resumes. -Snow drifts kick up into each of the sisters' faces. -Adding to the confusion is Candy's longcoat, flung into the air. -A rapid barrage of danger instincts flare up for each of them, from all angles, with precious little time to react before getting pummeled. -Footprints appear in the snow in time with these barrages. -Candy appears a few yards away, a spread of playing cards in his hand.
Staren	I think we have to fight. Staren raises the pistol, but stops short of shooting at the thought of inviting targeted retaliation. They don't like lodestone? Perhaps it's an issue with strong magnetic fields, and only lodestone was known in ancient times? It's worth a shot, right? She stuffs the pistol in her bag, and warps in a coil of wire wrapped around a pole. She plugs it into a concealed port on her armor and starts turning it up as much as she can without it just getting stuck to her armor. Which might not be strong enough to affect them from range, and she's not sure she wants to engage them in melee, so... okay maybe that wasn't the best idea. Still, she's ready to try swinging it like a club if any of the Sisters come for her!
Xion	Xion maintains her bow throughout the thoughtful pause, and then the beginning of the recitation, peeking her head up and then rising slowoly with a flare of her fingers at her sides before her hands close back into tight fists. Then she unclenches. The things the spirit says, the way they are said. Her quiet sobs reduce to a simmer of nasal congestion and the very soft pat-patter of droplets on the chamber floor. A hand comes up to wipe at her eyes. Breaths steady her. It'd be rude to break out the emergency chocolate bars in front of the ghost. Probably. "It's very difficult to be born with an empty hand, filled with darkness and light both, and be small compared to the world." Xion sighs. "I've only lived it secondhand. Before I felt anything else, I felt a blade in my hand." Her smile, with rivulets of moisture tracing falling patterns across her cheeks, lifts weakly. "I think people thought I was being metaphorical and deep. And, well... I am deep, but not that way. I meant it literally." Lifting her palm, fingers out, she closes her hand around a coil of silver, and then closes her fingers. On rotation, down dangles a keychain with an empty star held clasped in brushed silver. "My first, most precious star. Something that was mine, that came from me. I was born with it." "And so was she. I'm AB-solutely sure of it. But... Yes. I know why she wants power. So she never has to be the weaker one. So all she has to learn is reaching out. Power isn't care, though. And there's easier ways to attain strength and size." A soft sussuration ends in a twinkling clatter, as Xion drops the keychain-ized Starlight to the floor of the chamber, and upturns her hand towards the spirit again, empty-palmed. "I know she's gone far away, to a secret place. I know she's gone away for all the reasons you've said and more. But the last daughter of the white ash is going to be cut into a spear, with all the leaves and branches and roots and bark cut off. Every time she's been hurt, she cut that part off and went to find a stronger part to put in its place." "I know why she and Roxas feel the exact same way!" She breathes, for a moment. "Sorry. My family tell me to not use too many proper nouns in a row, because nobody's going to get it." Shaking her head, she re-presents her hand. "Wrapped up and riveted with iron, the only way she knows how to go forward, until she asks a woodcarver trim the rest." "There's nothing gentle about a spear. The blade can't hold my hands, the tip can't tell me about its dreams. Do you think I need more weapons, even if I would her 'love her in any shape'?" For a moment, the ground around her ripples with a great metal slithering as hundreds of keychains tumble to the ground around her in a great puddle of tumbling, jingling chains and colors and charms. "I'm not a coward. I love her. And I need to stop her before she carves out her heart entirely. I was born holding a sword. I wasn't born as one, as neither was she. I was terrified she'd hate me, and try to destroy me." "And now she's gone to go beyond hate." "So, tell me, please. Where has Lilian gone? How do I get there before it's too late?"
Persephone Kore	The three Sisters swing. Their blades halt at almost- though not exactly- the same time, a staccato one-after-another process. They don't sing or clank, as if expected were they to strike an invisible solid object; all matter simply parts along the vectors of inertia Persephone permits, and she does not permit "forwards". That's not allowed to happen. Not that either. I'll keep Candy safe! For the third time, I utterly reject it! In the aftermath, an invisible force shaped suspiciously like a hand messes up Candy's hair. Be careful, okay? They're really fast! I don't think I can always be quick enough to protect you. Persephone's attention isn't on the fight for the moment, though. She turns her back on the conflict to look at the house. Staren's got a gun, Candy's got lots of guns, Flamel has a psychic gun, and Cantio has who-knows-what. This is going to be really loud! I don't want to wake the sleeping people, though. Why don't I just... There is a soft, quiet noise like an enormous distant exhalation as Persephone displaces several tons of air. A thin vacuum layer is formed in a bubble around the house- air outside, and air inside, but with her psycho-gravitational forces providing a thermos-like band of hard space insulation. When it forms, it's evidenced by a slight needing-to-pop-your-eardrums feeling and a one-off hiss of fog that boils off from the invisible dome. She turns back from the rising tendrils of fog, shuts her eyes, and smiles. "Try not to damage things, but it's okay to be loud now, alright? I believe in you all. It'll be okay."
Cantio	Does Cantio understand what's going on? Not quite. Ghosts are a bit outside of her usual wheelhouse, but she can at least understand some basic things: Protect Candy. Even though he's doing something she can't quite see yet, making sure he doesn't get penetrated by those three sisters at once is a top priority. Don't reveal Flamel's position. He might be planning something to take care of these ghosts, but Cantio doesn't know where he is. Easy enough. Disarm the sisters. Easier said than done, considering they've just dropped their swords and swapped them around. How's she supposed to know which one belongs to who?! Then again, if Persephone really did mean it as a pun, it's a good thing Cantio already has her sword handle readied. Gripping it tightly in both hands as she brings it up to her shoulder, the floating pieces assemble into the swords blade as she launches herself forward several meters. "Here I come! Don't look away, you... Uh. Ghosts!" That could've come out much better than it did. Still, with Persephone providing a convenient privacy bubble, Cantio adjusts her plan just a bit more as she charges forward. She lets loose with an admirable, yet still moderately disappointing attempt at a war cry to announce her presence, clearly trying to grab the sisters' attention while thrusting her oversized blade forward with (hypothetically) enough force to pierce right through a shoulder or three! Except she's still a few dashes away from being anywhere near them at all. It's a gambit to grab their attention, though, as she waits a moment before moving on to step... Some number of this convoluted plan. Whether they look at her or not, she's opting for a safe-ish approach to minimize the risks of friendly fire: The blade launches skywards, then rains down lasers upon the ghosts (targeting their shoulders for maximum disarming) with relatively low risk of friendly fire and collateral damage if she had just fired them straight ahead.
Hibiki Tachibana	"Candy...!" Hibiki's eyes widen as the sisters move in unison, too fast for her eyes to track, only to realize they stopped in the split second before making contact--everything happens so fast that she's not sure what exactly caused them to stop, if it was Persephone making good on her promise to protect him or his instaneaneous movements in that single second, she just knows that she's impossibly relieved to see him safe. And she wants to keep it that way. In the chaos of the moment, she almost passes over how familiar the echo of those footsteps in the snow might look. "You don't have to tell me twice!" With Persephone's okay to go and soundproofing of their battlefield, Hibiki snatches out the pendant tucked beneath the collar of her jacket. "Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron...!" Before the light from transformating has even died down (and the normally echoing call thankfully won't reach the house by this point), she makes a high jump that'll keep any and all obstacles out of the way so that she can come down from above. Disarm them of their weapons. That's not simple at all, but if they can get even one of them away from its blade, that should make things a whole lot easier. So to do that...! In the wake of Candy's assault and Cantio's distraction, she singles out the sister of the Sable Woods for no particular reason to be the target of her coming down foot-first to try and smash the weapon out of her grip. A sudden entrance that'll let her touch down and backpedal to get out of any immediate counterattacks before stancing up to face them all down, closeby to Candy. "...Nice trick," is all she says for now.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel's given the all clear. Going loud is fine. He suddenly breaks from his invisibility, and all around him, a series of translucent, psychic silencers seem to unscrew from nothing at all, and get cast aside. The blasts that ensue are short, tense, and loud. Emotional, intense screams -- some are joy, some are anger, some are stress, but they're all munitions in the end. "Okay! Thanks for the loud-clearance!" Do they have cold iron on-hand? No. But can they get some? Also: No. But, can he work with the tactical situation? To attempt disarming? Further: No. But he can SORT OF help here. What he launches next is a barrage of two things: Heavy blasts, and heavy hands. Big psychic hands, at least four feet long from wrist to fingertip, lunge out. If the others can disarm them, he plans to use them to grab the swords and get them even more distant with telekinetic manipulation. Most importantly though, he's trying use them to clear a path between the group and the gate! They need to get out, after all!
Lilian Rook	Listening to Xion, as she dumps her endless pile of tokenized connections, bonds, with others on the floor, the ghost lifts her sword. Though it is but a powerful, slightly translucent memory, the menace inherent in its every motion is still palpable. However, the ghost doesn't bring it back down again. "There was another girl, who I had heard spoke something similar. The little crow told me, when she asked why it is that I would not simply choose to manifest without these scars, when I could choose to be any way I wished. Why I would discard my old age, but not a lifetime of wounds. A difference in our thoughts. That she believed one a brand of past failure, and myself, a sign that something has healed. Indeed, shod in iron is the only heartwood that knows no scratched rings." "But this sword, it is easily forgotten, was forged long before this shape of killing men was known to mortal smiths. It is made in the style of faeiries, to be pointed towards them, by a hard man who refused to carve away even one notch from his heart. She was born to wield it, have no such misconceptions, but still fails to comprehend its graven dedication." "There is no 'my people' where she is headed." The fact that a ghost is capable of a nuanced, emotive, second-nature sigh, is in of itself a little bit shocking, but of lesser interest than the answers that Xion wants. "As much as she angers and fears, there is little within my power, bound to this land as I am. As much as she angers and fears, she knows it is not within her heart, still, even now, to silence thee and thine. She is gone to the shadow of the castle that overlooks the Loch Eishort. She seeks a warrior woman even greater than I. A mentor who will teach her that which I shall not. An immortal woman who will hone her greatness in exclusion to her humanity, as though they were exclusive and separate. She will have the Shadow teach her the old, old ways of war, when the children of the goddess walked the mortal lands, and she will have the Shadow whittle away her frailties and calm her stormy heart, at first seeming healed and grown, but only 'sharpened'. Then it will all be in the hands of God." "Thou hath precious little time left. The castle was once well-known, but fell to the invaders years ago. However, the place she is is the layer below. A voyage from its shores through the sea mists under the moon, to sail from one ocean and into another, and find the same isle where it rests betwixt here and Tir na nOg. For her, it hath been some months already, in isolation, hardening herself, fighting for her life at the Shadow's guidance. Go as the old Child of Light did, if thou must. Sail from that shore, if the fog obliges. But that woman sees only worth in the warriors of the Celts, thou shalt be harried every moment of thy stay. Make thy offerings, bow thy head, be swift and short, and leave with empty hands, and judge carefully what thou shalt do and say to lure her from that place before she is ready. Even the Shadow's watchful eye will not prevent the little crow from leaving."
Lilian Rook	Candy gets one strongly lucky break, makes one good move, and makes one very poor decision. Namely, it's his coat and piles of snow that are cut to a frightening number of ribbons in the next instant, seemingly not by any visual intention or reflexive instinct, but simply 'being in the way of a sword'. However, throwing hands at the faeries is costly. When some of the Paladins had crossed blades with them before, just the effort of parrying was enough to numb their sword arms with the numbing, slow death of winter. Physically touching them with his bare hands is enough to turn his flesh black and brittle and to crumble with impact-- or at least it would if he weren't extra super tough for the moment. The triangle formation of murderous faeries is knocked apart by his blows. However, the very last few jabs crash against steel black and cold as space. An adjustment of guard in a millisecond of time, even though they show no sign of having anticipated, realized, or reacted to what he'd done. The swords cheat the physics of their own wielding, moving without balance or momentum, their tremendous length simply slicing through the air with 'speed', 'direction', and 'intent'. He can tell right away that the entire 'story concept' of these fae, as the fae are wont to base themselves upon, is 'sword'. It is guardianship. It is death. It is the inviolate frozen world where nothing stirs. These aren't spirits that picked up swords, but spirits of the sword. Three swords as one. When Staren comes charging with an electromagnet, she learns two neat things. One is that, no, it's the actual mineral that harms them, and two, they probably sense its presence by magnetism. She has smoke and no fire. Pointing an unloaded gun at a soldier. The group breaks off, going three ways at once, and making it much more difficult for Persephone in particular to protect anyone without forsaking the others. The Onyx Sister is upon Staren in the motionless manner of a nightmare, cutting and thruster faster than the sword itself actually suggests, as if it decides 'that finger, that hand, that arm, is mine' and the swordsmanship right after is all theatrics and show, obliging the cruel severing to wait until it's completed. A mere wire-wrapped pole is nowhere near up to the task, but it is at least the first thing she targets, before looking to dismember Staren and skewer-pin her to the ground. The other two are briefly caught under siege by Cantio's hail of lasers and Flamel's artillery barrage of grasping hands. The black blades wicker and twist without inertia to dance between the myriad shots, cutting apart magic light and psychic energy as easily as flesh. Hibiki crashes into the Sable Sister, and drives the pair of them back to the arch, immediately receiving a blast of flash-freezing and soul-numbing, life-sapping magic in return for isolating her from the others and leaving the exit just within reach, as well as figuring out that swordsmen rarely seem to attempt to disarm each other because actually it's really, really hard. The Raven Sister is left split from the others. She doesn't seem to realize Phony's part in anything going on, or rather, perhaps won't attack her while she's still within the radius of the tree and hasn't raised a finger, until the others are dealt with first. Instead, she goes to put an end to all of her extra actions being monopolized by parry rolls by lunging into Cantio, putting her sword through her middle, and continuing on in a straight-yet-swerving nonsense line to stab Flamel behind her.
Xion	The ghost's spectral blade rises. Xion blinks slowly, her hand remaining unmovingly outstretched, palm up. She waits for the stroke that never comes, and reflects that, if the ghostly figure bearing Night Mist and the current bearer were master and disciple, perhaps this ghost would not slice down. Then she remembers Celts are crazy, and that she should just be happy she didn't provoke a response. Her tone falls gently down, the heat of her passion flickering out without the burn of body-wracking Feeling into the pleasant background radiation of Everyone's Hero. "You love her too, then. I don't have to touch your heart to hear it. The house loves her, and the tree loves her, and you love her, and her sword loves her. Isn't that incredible?" Xion lifts a finger to tap her temple knowingly. "Swords yearn for touch most of all. They're completed by a hand, a touch, a knowing embrace. They strike and clash against a fellow blade, but will see a hand safely through the worst." Drawing a breath, she re-places her hand out, before her, extended and accepting. "I once went on a big test because Lilian suggested it, and there was a... device, that you could touch, and it would tell you how magically powerful you were. When I went, there were so many incredible people there. People like my partner, Roxas. They touched the thing, and all sorts of colors and symbols progressed on in sequence. A light, a mirror, and then..." Xion shrugs. "Swords and crowns and thrones and pentacles and all the playing card things." "I'm magic." "I know it." "Nobody can say I'm not, because I am." "But that test did." "That doesn't mean I'm wrong." "It doesn't take my magic away." "But if I doubted myself, if I thought, maybe, I didn't, or didn't in the 'right way', then I'd start changing and 'fixing', and carving at the things that didn't fit." She nods. "Then I realized. I don't remember thinking about it, but I definitely thought about it a lot. The test is... just some way for a bunch of old wizards who all got together and figured out one way that sorta-kinda fits everyone that all the people that mattered to them fit in. It doesn't tell you anything about what's inside you. It tells you how good you are at fitting into the test's boxes." She shakes her head. "I couldn't reflect the mirror, so I was out. Even if I was magic. No matter how magic I was, what color that took." Nodding, she resets her hand, outstretched. "But I also wonder what rainbow of colors we could see if she held my hand and we touched the device together. Past the mirror, what would those old wizards say about us?" Xion tilts her head with a tiny smile. Hope, anew, on her tear-dried face. "May I borrow your power, then? I'll take you to her, and we can find out what what we can all do with our hands joined."
Candy	Colder than a well digger's ass! He scarcely has time to wring his hands, still clutching those cards, before the sisters are split up, each one of them going after someone different. All of that, and they're still ticking... must be because their whole schtick is protecting the place. What was it they said about 'cold iron?' Lodestones. A few hands for a few trinkets? "Staren!" Candy flings a card her way. It burns as it sails through the air, looking more like a hurled smoke bomb by the time it reaches her. Another is thrown towards Flamel, with a cry of, "G-Man!" Staren's offering becomes a club with a head fashioned of lodestone, while Flamel's is more defensive in nature, a set of cufflinks intended to ward the sisters away from him. The remaining three cards are hurled towards the Sable Sister, burning away to reveal... more cards? The illusion isn't perfect--the gleam isn't quite right for playing cards. They're cards, alright, but they're not made of paper. When the illusion fades under scrutiny, the cards--razor sharp, made of cold iron--still sail towards the Sable Sister.
Cantio	Blasting lasers around works about as well as Cantio had expected. With the sisters split up (sort of), it becomes a bit easier to focus on just one or two instead of worrying about any one person getting skewered by all three at once. With her blade still in the sky for that laser maneuver, though... That means the Raven Sister gets a free shot at Cantio sans blade. Blocking without her blade is going to be impossible, though, and evasion isn't a luxury she has since doing that means putting Flamel at risk of getting stabbed! Or stabbed more, even. She'd also prefer not to get stabbed herself, so that leaves her with only one real option left. As the blade starts pushing into her chest, Cantio starts moving backwards with it instead of out of the way. The blade keeps sinking in deeper, but Cantio somehow seems to be getting more distance from the Raven Sister. As she's moving backwards, she's also calling out a copy of herself to eat the hit, complete with that clone already shrieking in pain at getting impaled and used as a human shield. That moment might be all she needs, though, as the floating blade-turned-laser emitter turns its aim towards the Raven Sister. The shrieking Cantio grabs onto the Raven Sister with whatever strength is left in her body, trying to hold her still for the blade as it descends rapidly to try and carve through the Raven Sister's arm before finally returning to Cantio's sword for a follow-up slash through center mass and right past her disintegrating clone.
Persephone Kore	Persephone's eyes don't open. She tracks the flow of the fight by the lights of everyone's hearts; convenient, when it's too frenetic for her eyes to follow and too wide-ranging to follow all at once. Her expression dims on a slider from smiling, to neutral, to frowning. Intermittent blows can be intercepted by her psychic parries, but the large majority are too rapid, too spontaneous, too uncanny for her to anticipate. I want to sit back and applaud and cheer people on. I want to bask in everyone else's specialness. I want them to show me things I've never seen before! I want to be impressed and amazed! But you're not going to play that kind of game with me. This isn't communicating or growing. It's an ugly struggle for power in absolute terms. And "I don't like that kind of story," Persephone says out loud, blurring the line between thought and speech. Her eyes open the second her expression reaches a frustrated grimace. The Onyx Sister is the closest to Persephone, and entangled with Staren besides.. She walks forwards with determination, as if she's going to fight it with her hands. She doesn't. Its sword is violently wrenched from its grasp by a disembodied force, hangs in the air in front of it for a split second, and then-- \| \| \| \| There is a teeth-rattling sharp bassy crack. The sword is gone. In its place is a thin, visible plasma trail that stretches far, far up into the night sky, ringed with exotic vapor-cone formations along its length. Persephone continues briskly walking, with pieces of her now-shattered suppressor diadem falling behind her like breadcrumbs. She walks out of the tree's radius, past the disarmed Onyx Sister, and several paces further still. Then an only slightly less violent and horrifying force yanks the Onyx Sister from behind Phony to in front of her, slamming her on her back into the ground. Like all of Persephone's attacks, it can't cause true injury; it can only exhaust and subdue, an ominously vast gentleness. But the spiral galaxy's worth of weight pressing into the Onyx Sister's chest creates heat and pressure sufficient to turn the ground beneath it to diamonds. It's dragged a few more feet along the ground by her push, digging a glittering and smoking furrow in the earth. She stands over it, within arm's reach, her expression equal parts frustrated and tired. "You know what this is," Phony says. It's not a question. "You've seen it before. You couldn't catch her either. So please stop."
Staren	The magnet is useless. Staren immediately discards it -- perhaps too early as part of it turns into lodestone -- and focuses on gettting away. Mobility-enhancing flight magic and high-tech body armor save her from being so simply dismembered -- she can't just flee in a straight line, though, these things move... weird. She tries drawing the sig and firing the silver-coated rounds, more to force the fey to defend than anything. Every split-second bought is a split second longer to... somehow find a path to victory? It is so incredibly dumb to lose to this. She's Staren Wiremu! If there's one thing she can do, it's OVERWHELMING DESTRUCTIVE POWER. Long ago, a new Partner asked for help with guns. The First listed off a number of elites, including Staren. And one comment stuck in Staren's brain: <<X-Concord-Chatter> Count Kord says, "Staren if you want to grow familiar with firearms that level whole houses." She was proud when she heard that. She took it as a compliment, and still does. Even if it suggests a crude power and a lack of finesse, it is a recognition of power nonetheless. That's right. She's Staren, and she casually wields such destructive power that many consider it overkill. When fucking eldritch nightmare deathwraiths try to cut her arms off and run her and her friends through, the gloves come off! <J-IC-Scene> Staren says, "Phony, Flamel! Shields up! Everyone else, stay at range!" She is totally about to blow everything up. <J-IC-Scene> Persephone Kore says, "Don't blow everything up." Staren hesitates only for a fraction of a second, long enough to think I don't see YOU stopping them! In an instant, firing solutions are plotted. She's about to summon LOTS AND LOTS OF MISSILES. And then Phony does something. Staren just kinda floats there in the air, her mental finger on the brain-interface trigger to blow the Sisters to hell, and stares. Seeing how this goes.
Hibiki Tachibana	The good thing is that Hibiki was able to make contact and get one of the sisters focusing on her. The bad thing is that she has one of the sisters focusing on her, and the point-blank wave of fae magicks connects at point-blank range, freezing over her body from the point of impact with a cold that runs deeper than the bone. "Ngh...!" She promptly stumbles and nearly loses her stance from the numbing effect, heaving out into the frigid air. The arch is right there. She can't slow down now. In fact, if she can't even deal with a couple swords, there's no way she's ever going to be able to do anything about Lilian. With that thought in her mind-- She tightens up her fists and moves, drawing on that explosive inner energy that is her trademark - Gungnir's energy. It's not the overwhelming heat that once threatened to completely burn her body and life away... ...but it's more than enough to put some give back in her affected limb as she channels it there, the machinery in the knee-high leg covering shifting - and the set of smaller, spike-tipped pistons realign themselves to extend a foot back behind her. The sisters' swordplay is fast, but she's pretty fast herself with her sudden movement to try to get around the Sable Sister. "It'll take more than that...to stop me!" And deliver a spinning kick with that same leg towards her back, with the leg jacks pounding back into place right behind it to deliver her equally trademark one-two blast of raw force to send the fae flying. Right towards Candy's incoming set of cold iron-forged cards. She's probably going to be eating the effects of contact again after that, but it's at least not going to be her hands yet again.
Flamel Parsons	Oh, bad. Oh bad, oh bad. Flamel's got a dire case of shishkabobitis coming up soon. The Raven Sister is coming straight at him with a blade. But Cantio... is taking it for him?! He rushes forward and to one side, snatching Candy's card out of mid-air. His new cufflinks slip into place nearly instantly. He rushes to her, clenches a fist, and summons a much, much larger hand to form a striking punch. Cantio's likely to deal a significant bit of damage with that self-sacrifice, but these are some tough customers, and they need to get out. So he has to bank on the idea that Cantio will stun them enough for him to strike with a massive psychic blow reinforced by the warding right near his hands, try to blast the Raven Sister clear of them, and use the broken formation to make for the gate and get OUT. If he can get distances and warning for Raven, and if Candy and Hibiki can drive off Sable with the iron, they may have a clear moment. Staren nearly breaks through, and this one provokes a grimace from the agent. Eyebrows go up behind sunglasses, and he worries about where this is going, psychologically. But then he looks to Persephone, and sees what she does about it... And there's a clatter. A clatter of thin, round glass, somewhere. He shakes his head to clear it. "Run!" He calls out, to his nearest: Cantio and Staren. He's even willing to snag them with telekinesis and throw them if needed. They all need to get back out, and the only reason Flamel isn't staying to watch Persephone up close is because of some curiousity fulfillment that's lodging in his mind in other ways.
Lilian Rook	The ghost thinks about Xion's matters of love for a little while longer. She doesn't have to listen to her heart to know it either. She has the face of a woman who never thought to lie or hide anything, even now. "Even were she not the only child for this land to treasure, she is the first in a long while to hold such love for Old Things. To wish to know of what was, and why, and how; to belove tales and stories with such earnest sincerity, and to treasure the past without denying its faults; these are things lost to the Bastard's generation, and all those since him." "Beloved by this house are those to whom its memories are as beloved as much its stones. Beloved by the rowan are those to whom its stories are as beloved as much as its protection. Beloved by myself are those to whom my lessons are as beloved as much as my permission. And beloved by the sword are those to whom its dedication is as beloved as its keen edge. I would hate very much for that child, the one thing to be loved of this forsaken time, to change so." "Clearly, beloved are thee by she for you to have such things stirred within thy soul. Very well then. My power is thine, to teach and raise her, as it has been from the moment of my death. Knight Aoibheil stands by thee." The ghost extends her hand.
Staren	Waiting to see how this goes, Staren does have to be telekinetically flung to get her moving. Somewhat reluctantly, she trusts the others to handle it and flies onward. Her friends mean well, but being reminded she was about to make a bad call feels bad. I screwed up again. I wasn't smart enough to see the better way. Will I ever be able to? She tries to turn her thoughts away but it just becomes a jumble of NOT IN THE FACE PLEASE STOP IT HURTS SO MUCH Lilian is kind sort of a good person can we really save her or will this all end tragically her family have all Othered her why are they such creepy monsters why did she have to be alone and weird it's not fair and yet she's just doing what I always thought I needed to do except she's strong enough to actually pull it off but then why does she oppose me was I wrong do I just make things worse I almost made things worse here I'm not a psychic detective Persephone's powers are for communicating better not for that I just blow things up she's right trying to seem clever is just a laser pistol I couldn't do anything I just wanted to believe I could I should've seen it coming I should've planned for this Lilian had a plan Phony had a plan Candy had a plan but oh I'm so smart I can just improvise and it'll turn out okay except oops not well okay I weakened the aggression but I only had to fight it in the first place because I fucked up and thought I could get something from the cane cleaning up your own mistakes doesn't count what am I even doing here I want to go home I've wanted to go home since the memory but everyone else was able to keep fighting home what am I gonna do home is what Lilian is gonna attack when she gets back probably all I did was endanger my family great job Staren just keep flying and try not to fuck up any more things on the way home With a brain full of psychohazardous findings, every other place Staren's thoughts turn just isn't a good one. She tries to turn her brain off and keep flying. She's never been able to turn her brain off, though...
Lilian Rook	The Raven Sister rams up to the hilt into Cantio, and then finds out that the specific quality of violence and cruelty isn't quite the same when it's actually a decoy clone and now she's stuck. With a warm body on the end, she can't wave her sword around with nearly that level of non-newtonian prowess, (somewhat) respecting even Clone Cantio's mass. This leaves Flamel with just the opening he needs! The fairy uses Cantio's clone's body as a shield immediately, but the thing is, wearing lodestone cufflinks makes the psychic hand have the same effect. The Raven Sister drops to the ground on her knees, leaving her sword embedded in !Cantio for a moment, clutching her burning hands, hair falling over and hiding her face. Hibiki finally gets to have her runback against an enemy with actually limited speed. Physics-defying and uncanny as the faerie's swordsmanship and tactical sense is, there is an actual cap to her individual power of movement, offense, and defense, and she has the distinct sense that splitting them up made this winnable. By herself, the Sable Sister is barely able to hold her at bay, committing its all to total defense, and rather cannily waiting for the cold to simply sap her of all her strength before turning the tide back on her. Between 'furious mahou assault' and 'some playing cards', the Sable Sister makes the correct defensive call, which is the wrong one, and writhes in agony as card-shaped slivers of magnetite embed into her back by the corners, alternating between struggling to remove them and flinching away from touching them. The hate is palpable. Staren throws away her third and matching weapon and kinda does nothing. Persephone magnanimously handles it with her vast and ominous gentleness. The Onyx Sister's eyes track upwards --well, her face tilts-- and then she is slammed into the dirt. Trapped to the earth, without water and without her sisters, furious, bitter surrender follows. Good thing too, because having any of the three chase the group through the arch would really suck. It's a long run through the intermediate 'faerie woods' before they get back into 'merely Antegent hellravaged' forest.
Persephone Kore	Persephone looks strangely "off-model" in the moment after the Onyx Sister's surrender. She inelegantly pushes her hair up out of her eyes (to a cascade of more tiny purple crystals), wipes her face with a hand, and wears a look of inwardly-directed frustration and exasperation that doesn't match any of her standard talksprites. "Good," she says halfheartedly, and steps over the supine Onyx Sister to leave. She doesn't glance back at anyone who's yet to depart. I know they're fine already. That's not the problem. She doesn't run through the arch and the fae-touched woods, but walks briskly with snappy motions. There's a knot in her heart, and some part of her thinks it can be worked out through her body if only she's forceful enough. Inhale. Hold it, five seconds. Exhale. "I don't see YOU stopping them!" Shut up. I sit back and you get hurt and it's my fault. I do something and you get hurt and it's my fault. If I can't do it nobody can, so the responsibility stops here, right? Everyone's pain, everyone's wishes, everyone's hopes are mine to carry forever, I get it. I get it!! Inhale. Hold it, five seconds. Exhale. I feel like something's sticking to my skin that I'll have to clean off later. Fighting can be a silly game for me, and I can make it a game for my enemies too, but I can't keep it un-serious for my friends. It'd be better if people just let me do everything for them! But then I hate being the only one who can do things, too. There's no way out. Inhale. Hold it, five seconds. Exhale. I get it. I'm supposed to be everyone's shining star. I'm the girl who can do impossible things. Of course keeping everyone happy and safe is my responsibility. Who else's could it be? One more time. In and out. No, I'm sorry. I'm being silly. Worries like that can only add to the weight. Today has gotten to me. Lilian's gotten to me. she said the world would change me, once, and I still hope she's wrong, but I'm learning what she meant. ... Is it selfish of me to wish the impossible things were just a little easier?
Xion	Two people who are real unless you squint at them touch hand. One shines like a star, and one is cleaved with scars. "Knight Aoibheil, then." Xion's hand closes around the lowering palm of the scarred woman, and nothing special happens. "I've heard a little about you, but I just met you this day. I learned from some very special people that you're her favorite, so I hope I can live up to the faith you put in me. Until we reach the near side of the lake, would you walk with me?" All the keychains fall away into nowhere but one, as she bends down to scoop up Starlight's. With a beckoning 'come, come', she begins to lead the ghost away, out of the room. And from the ghost, the faintest image of her, like a single photo-slide, can step away, glowing from a pale and worn medallion that shines its ghost-light. "Like you said, Aoibheil. The only reason to do it for is love."
Candy	Good for you, Phony. Candy doesn't press his luck against these three. The moment he has the opportunity, he's gone--completely, this time. As far as he can be--as close to getting home as his magic can get him. There will be time to talk later--time to share what he learned, to think on it and on how to do right by Lilian. He imagines, fleeing through the forest along the exact path he was told to come by, that he'll be using the phone to get in touch with the others, find out how they're feeling. Hope they don't mind if I hold off on it. I'm expecting a call.