I threw the stable door open and found cherubim metaphorically dusting for prints.
“Am I interrupting, or can I start packing?”
They shook their heads and waved me in. I quickly started cataloging the contents, though I was immediately distracted by Pyroshir being fully animate.
“Hey, you’re already awake, that’s great. Listen–”
“I know,” he interrupted.
“Oh?”
He shook his mane, slinging a few sparks. “Brotha, the tea is pipin’. I can’t sleep with the hottest gossip flyin’. Some mo’fucka busted on in, ate a million, billion, gajillion damage, and walked his ass out like it was anotha Tuesday. We gots ta fuckin’ bounce.”
I paused, appreciating our alignment on the issue. “Great, cuz that’s the plan. I’ve got a hideaway lined up, though it’s probably not good to discuss it here. Unfortunately, I have to catch orb you for a while, m’kay?”
He rolled his eyes with a snort. “Beats gettin’ left behind, or blasted. Hit me.”
“Thanks, mate. I’ll pop you out somewhere nice, I promise.”
“Suuuuurrrrrr–” ZHWOOMP
I scooped up the orb, already moving on to the next thing. I grabbed all the saddles, barding, care equipment, his ball scratcher… until I came to a very important pouch. The Freedom Cookies—as we called them—the crystals to dispel whatever controls Pyroshir. We’d made it a short way toward my objective of enough free will to say no sometimes. Of course I would take them, and yet, I hesitated. A number of deep thoughts about my own morality swirled as I contemplated where my line used to be, and where it had moved to by then.
“Dennis! They say we can pack the house in 5 minutes!” Matti shouted, breaking my introspective trance.
“Okay, be right there!”
……
Laying low, day 1, Department of Extra Infernal Affairs, Temporary Internment Wing, late evening.
“What is this, a prison cell?” Matti grumbed indignantly.
“I mean, it’s dual-purpose… I guess.”
Honestly, I couldn’t disagree. Our temporary accommodations were aptly described as a cell. 3 walls of reinforced brick, 1 of heavy bars, a pair of planks chained to the wall in a manner vaguely suggestive of a bed. Aaand a toilet in the corner, with a curtain and a sink. We had been assured that the door would remain unlocked, and that the facilities were available. Downside was, we couldn’t bring the bed, so it was time to get creative with our stock of blankets and cushions.
“Eh, ‘sgood nuff.”
……
Laying low, day 2, rocky valley outside of deliberately unnamed town, shortly after lunch break.
“Alright, now that you’ve turned it on, you need to take a firm grip like this. Your main hand should go all the way at the bottom of the shaft, with your ring and pinkie fingers curled up to serve as a backstop. Your off hand goes right up front, just behind this little ring of pearls, but make sure you’re not touching them!”
“Okay, okay… like this?”
“Good grip, maybe bring off hand a bit. That’s the trigger, after all. Now, there are 4 settings, and it takes a little care, so listen up. Pushing the pearl ring forward is continuous stream mode, your shorter range, sustainable option. Pulling it back towards you will engage burst mode. The longer you hold it back, the more it charges, the bigger the effect. Next, to change firing mode you–”
“Wait wait wait,” Matti interrupted. “Alternate firing modes?”
I spun around to give her a mild glare, sitting there on that rock next to Hecate, the metaphorical peanut gallery to my training session with a valued employee.
“Yes, what about them?” I asked, swinging my trainer rod around haphazardly.
She fidgeted. “Well, they’re supposed to be cheap and uniform. They’re mass produced, after all. I’ve never seen or heard of a volcano rod that could do more than spew a line or cone of fire.”
“Yeah, that’s the FP-24, FP-24A-1, and maybe the FP-24D. We use the FP-26A-3.”
“... What?”
I inhaled and that’s about as far as I got before Hecate beat me to it.
“Ms. Runil, what is so difficult to understand? His company spent the time and money to commission a more suitable, higher grade model of fire weapon. An admirable pursuit. Now, let him finish what he is doing,” she stated with a stern smile.
For someone with everything above their lips obscured, Hecate sure was expressive. I looked between them and shrugged.
“Yeah, what she said. I’ll tell you more once Greesley is actually practicing.”
And that’s precisely what I did. I explained the 4 settings, and what each one does in stream or burst mode. Setting 1: Firewall. Stream fires a cone of high-knockback fire in a 120 degree arc at a range of 10 feet, charge places a stationary blaze that expands up, down, and sideways to block off a corridor; duration dependent on time charging and space filled. Setting 2 is a variable cone that trades width for range as you turn the pearls, and you can charge to launch a flaming donut. Works like a shotgun.
Setting 3 is flamethrower mode. It has 3 sub-settings, no gravity, gravity, and gravity with ricochets. You can use it to paint the battlefield with napalm hazards, which burn for a minute or so. You can charge it to launch a molotov bomb that leaves a large puddle of fire, and also obeys the rules of the sub-setting. The 4th and final fire mode is projectile. Stream fires low-damage firebolts at 384 RPM, and you can charge it for an oh-so-classic fireball.
To recharge a rod, just place it in an open fire until it whistles like a teapot. If you want to utilize it as a primary weapon, consider the FP-26A-5 Battle, with a tripled battery life; or perhaps you would like FP-26A-4 Sidearm, which has the same features as the A-3, but at half the size (not recommended for untrained and/or non GC usage due to excessive recoil).
Chivos has informed me that I must disclose my 25% cut of the profits from this model, as the sole commissioner of the FP-26 design. Spoilsport. For real, though, I spent some fat stacks on making these and they’re good. You have to order ahead and get on a waitlist to get one due to their batch manufacturing. For your very own FP-26, call Thermul and Sons now!
But I’m not done yet!
…
Actually, I am, but after a spiel like that, I had to say it. Sue me (you’ll lose).
……
Laying low, day 2, late afternoon, outskirts of Drivellum-Lawson estate.
My ear twitched as a familiar screech of metal resounded. “Yup, that’s the front gate alright.”
“Finally,” Matti grumbled. “Would’ve been nice to see the countryside.”
I rolled my eyes. She was still hung up on the curtains drawn edict. “Oh come off it, Matti. They say nobody sees in, then nobody sees in. Besides, we’re stopping at about the nicest mansion around.”
“It better be. I wanted to see the sights.”
5 minutes later.
“Waddya think, Matti? … Hello? Earth to vampire?” I inquired, nudging a gawking Matti.
I didn’t hold her dumbstruck mouth-agape look against her. It was, after all, quite a sight to behold… which is why I need to now describe it, lest there be a riot. The mansion itself was the expected centerpiece of the property. It was 3 stories plus attic, the walls built of of deep gray hewn stone brick, with every single brick hand-engraved in a subtle but entrancing pattern that flowed seamlessly across the entire exterior.
The roof was steep and imposing, built from fireblood shingles, the nuances of which would take too long to explain. Long story short, it’s a deep red-orange color and can illuminate dimly, or project enough fire to light the entire property; a real crowd pleaser for large outdoor parties. The exterior was plastered with windows, each of which had thin metal barring that carried on the artistic pattern of the bricks, whilst also proofing them against intruders.
The construction was mostly rectangular on the front, but it was a blocky, horseshoe-shaped mansion that wrapped around a square/plaza of sorts. At the center of said plaza was a fountain that—depending on what company needed to be impressed—could spout water, lava, blood, chocolate, or booze. There were also 4 cherry trees, 1 per corner of the square. They were kept in a perpetual rotation, with each corner being in a different season. It kept the place dotted with cherry blossoms and fruits year round.
Some final details about the mansion itself: There were 2 towers on opposite ends of the horseshoe, the left accessible from the master bedroom and the right from the 3rd floor reception hall. The former was a bell and clock tower with a balcony, and the latter was an observation tower with a planetarium. The roofs of the towers also flew long, thin flags of our family heraldry. The tip of the fabric could break the sound barrier in a windstorm, or when commanded. Total square footage: 22,800.
Not to mention the grounds of the estate. The left of the not-driveway was populated with local flora, red, gray, orange, and yellow plants, ash trees—made of actual ash—with their shimmering leaves and lovely flowers that smolder so softly, alight with the little igneous butterflies that pollinate them.
On the right, we had surface flora, with normal grass, hedges, trees, etc. Not very new or fancy for me, but very exotic to keep a whole 17 acres of it with orchards and gardens and the like in the Hells. And yes, it did take up precisely half of the 34-acre property, the maximum allowable privately owned land plot. For more information, google demon rule [joke redacted].
“Wow.”
“That’s it, just wow?”
She shook her head and spluttered. “I– I mean wow! I thought mansions were so last century, but… there’s something about this, so castle-like, but, so formal and personal. With so much given to pleasure, rather than defensibility.”
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, pointing at the ‘fence line’, which had a barrier not dissimilar to the one I cast over Castle Sidia for her a while back.
She glanced over her shoulder and took it in. “Hmm. That does explain some things. But still, I– oh, who’s that?”
I followed her gaze over to the hell pastures and saw a 3-headed black and red dog of 20-some stone galloping at us, tongues flapping in the wind.
“That would be Bear, the security cerberus. We should probably go inside before he… serenades us.”
“What?” she blurted, squinting at him jogging over.
I saw the realization dawn on her face as she noticed that all 3 heads were huskies. She very eagerly took the ‘important stuff’ bag I handed her, and we started toward the door. Thankfully, the genie lamp on my belt flashed alight and Hecate formed to greet the eager pup. The seraphim proceeded to make a ball of flame, and throw it far over his head. Bear, of course, gave chase and returned in moments carrying it in his mouth.
And that was how she discovered her primary pastime for the duration of our stay. That, and the library.
We got the tour, of course. Chivos wasn’t home, but his butler took our bags and showed us about. He and the chef were the only employees not placed on leave for security. I had seen it all before, but it wasn’t completed at the time; it took several years to accumulate the wealth, and construction lasted 18 years.
The insides were marble-floored, vaulted-ceilinged extravagance incarnate. However, it was quite tasteful. There was not too much decoration. The halls were dotted with the occasional painting or display piece, the floor patterns had a different geometer commissioned for each wing of the house, and the higher floors used a mix of fine quartz and obsidian tile, or well-stained wood and rugs. The lighting, of course, was done by chandeliers in large spaces, and soul candles wherever needed. Those were a straight-up flex, because each one needed the entire soul of a sinner to make, and there were hundreds across the house. That bill added up quick.
We saw the atrium, ballroom, theatre, library, armory, dining halls, indoor exotic garden, stable (to drop off Pyroshir), reading nook, study, grand office, trophy room, wine cellar, sex dungeon, dungeon dungeon, security room, master bed and bath, both towers, alchemical workshop, servant’s quarters, secret passages, panic rooms, and the closed vault. The latter of that list would only open for Chivos, or me in the event of his death. He once told me there’s enough—entirely legal—blackmail stored within to install a president of his choice. I wasn’t entirely sure he was joking (ehh, 90%).
It also contained the thornheart nexus, a massive gem which amounted to the magical server that my wedding ring queried spells from.
The tour ended with us flopped onto the smallest non-servant bed in the house, an Alaskan king. Why the smallest? Because it was the relatively compact ‘super turbo extra ultra deluxe’ security bedroom; the only room safe enough that every faction was willing to let me have privacy. That did not mean I was alone, though.
“What a place!” Matti opined as the fellow pancake on the bed. “I can’t believe that you don’t spend more time down here.”
“Ehh, nice as it is, the ambiance is not great. Even this far into a secure property, you can still hear the wails of the damned when it gets quiet.”
“I know, it’s awesome!” She paused, realizing our mismatch. “Emm, on another note, why is this place so secure? All the measures we’ve seen have been installed for years.”
“Because, Matti, Chivos obtained the same legal protections as a GC the moment we married. He’s nearly untouchable now, so the biggest cheats, scammers, gangsters and backstabbers in all the Hells hire him; they’re his main clientele.”
“Hmm. If he’s involved with people like that, it really does explain things.” She sighed in fluffy-pillowed bliss. “Do you… want to do anything right now?”
“Yeah, sleep,” I drawled tiredly as I reached for the alarm clock and wound it to ‘1 REM cycle’.
……
The soft, gentlemanly rapping of Mr. Slakendroth’s knuckles raised our attention from our books.
“Enter!”
He peeked his head in, dapper white mustache ever lively in its curled tips. “Masters Lawson and Runil, I have come to inform you that Master Drivellum has returned, and that dinner will be ready shortly. He has requested that you come meet him at the table.”
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A few minutes later we were closing in on the private dining room, as the far grander dining hall was simply too much for 3. We were ostensibly headed straight there, but I made a slight detour when I spotted Hecate. She sat at a small table in a side room, likely used by the waitstaff. Across from her was an ‘empty’ chair, with a full place setting.
“Heyyy,” I greeted somewhat awkwardly. “Bit of a breath of fresh air not having you following. Is the place really that well up to standards?”
She paused making her origami napkin swan. ‘It very much is. Agent ______ and I have swept all about. There will be no fools to cremate here. We have even verified that the teleportation room has been shut off, and thoroughly barred. It is of no concern, though I would have had more time to play with Bear had they let us use it first.“
Mr. Slakendroth bowed humbly. “Our sincerest apologies, my lady. The authorities insisted it be shut down significantly before your arrival. I am sure you can understand this most unfortunate predicament.”
“Indeed,” she concurred. Then her ears perked. “Ah, our food is here.”
Right then, a brass automaton strode into the room, depositing 2 covered dishes on the table. With a small flair, it plucked the covers to reveal a fine steak with very minimal sides for Hecate, and a masterful omurice with a side of caviar for the wind.
“Seraphim need to eat?” Matti asked, breaking her silence.
“No, but when presented with such fine craftsmanship, why not partake?” She cut a slice of steak and inspected it on her fork. “Mmm, charred on the outside, bleeding on the inside. Perfection. Butler, please deliver my compliments to the chef.”
“At my earliest opportunity, Madam. Masters, if you please?” he requested, motioning us onward.
As we departed, I saw Hecate light the candle at their table with a snap of her fingers. “So, have you ever committed arson?” I heard her asking from down the hall.
……
“Welcome home, Chivos,” I greeted as he arrived at our table.
He was the most casually dressed I’d seen him in a long time; slacks and a button down shirt. He was also more exhausted than I’d seen in just about ever, but that’s not saying much because we don’t have time to meet in person when he’s swamped.
“Hello, Dennis, Mattirina. I have had quite a day.”
His tone certainly said what kind of day.
“So no dice, then?”
He rang the bell at the table, causing the automaton to approach and take our drink orders.
“There is some good news. I’ve pushed back a number of cases; any of the ones that won’t find more evidence to damage our argument. And for some I have convinced my client to go for the throat. Hopefully, I can finish a number of them while you are still here. I can afford to let some billable hours go.”
I nodded, taking a sip of my rapidly-delivered hard lemonade. “I very much appreciate your efforts on that front. Now, the bad news?”
“A visa application for a long-term stay will take at least a month. Thus, we will have to find you other accommodations as soon as possible. And it best not be anywhere important within the lands of light or darkness, as the other side would throw such a fit that your safety could be put at risk.” He took a slice of the foccacia the moment it was delivered. “Have you any suggestions? I would more than welcome them.”
Surprisingly, Matti spoke first. “Madame Gossamer?” We both shot her a glare, but she raised her hand. “No, seriously. Remember that letter I gave you, Dennis? The fan mail? It was… also an explanation of the situation, and an invitation to the ‘protect Dennis if things go south’ club.”
We both blinked at her. “I believe my husband would be in better hands elsewhere, though I do not doubt her efficacy. It shall be considered if all else fails, yes?”
“Yyyeah. Plan Z right there. Here’s my idea. The 2082nd Battle of Meridian Valley is in 4 days. Lots of people and chosen will be there, too many to go after me safely, as long as I stay guarded or in the public eye. You know I go every year I can, having all those factions to rub elbows with. There are a few groups there that owe me. I could get you a pretty good list of hideaway volunteers, and, with the right strategies, we could try to suss out if anyone there is stalking me.”
Chivos slowly nodded. “Hmm. Interesting, though a bit on the bold side. A few agents responsible for you may have a conniption, but I think it could be beneficial. I should commence a conference call posthaste.”
Right then, a plate of ice-fried magmafish with roasted macadamia slivers and oyster pilaf was placed before him. (Yes, you cook magmafish by cooling it down.) He took a deep breath, halfway stood.
“After dinner, perhaps.”
……
Laying low, day 3, morning, super ultra giga lots of words security bedroom.
“I can’t believe he stole my favorite coat,” I whined.
Matti sat on the bed, cross-legged, in her nighty, watching me lay out all my equipment. “All the expensive, enchanted items the thief made off with, and your coat is the most upsetting?”
I clutched my near-bare collarbone facetiously. “Yes! It was a gift.”
Nonplussed, she switched her pose about to rest on her belly, head propped up on her hands, feet up in the air, kicking back and forth. “Anyhow, what is this ‘PVP’ you were on about?”
“How do you fight a monster?”
“Uhh–”
I held up a finger. “Don’t answer the question. Just think of a monster that takes some thought to kill. Once you recall how you would take it down, I’ll ask you the real question.”
She willfully played along. “Alright, I have a beast in mind. Ask.”
“Would that strategy work on a chosen?”
Matti paused, then shook her head. “I’m fairly certain I would die.”
“Ayup. That’s exactly why I’m switching from an anti-monster kit, to an anti-chosen kit.”
She interlaced her fingers under her chin, trying to appear cute. “Pray tell, what sort of strategy works against the chosen?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather girl?” I retorted snarkily.
Matti sneakily slid off the bed and came up behind me to knock me on the elbow for my insolent tone. However, I happen to have ears and a sense of comedic timing, so I jerked my arm aside and trapped her overextended wrist against my body. Then, I did a little pirouette and sent her slinging into the chair beside me. She was briefly shocked, sitting there not of her own volition.
“Sometimes, I forget that you are still a chosen, and quite a fast one at that.”
“You’ve seen me walk softly, but have never seen my big stick.” I paused. “That is not the best way to use that phrase.”
She leaned forward. “Innuendo aside, I am still curious, and I may be pitted against these chosen in service of your protection. Please, I desire enlightenment.”
I nodded to myself. “Fair point. Alright, listen up then. The strategies that work best against the chosen are the ones that would be most effective against as many different threats as possible. The so-called trump-card strategies. There are 3 categories to these strats. Total avoidance, overwhelming force, and catastrophic disruption.”
Her features lit up as she suddenly turned highly attentive. “Go on.”
“Total avoidance is sneaking around, teleporting away, hiring someone else to do it, not getting involved in the first place, et cetera. We’re already putting that into practice, but the wind personifies it. He clearly has the option to grab me and portal us out at any time.
“Overwhelming force is even simpler. If you attack harder and faster than anyone can put up with, then you win. Surviving the fight is the tricky part. Hecate is a great example. She has no subtlety, nor any grand plan. She sees, she burns, she wins.
“Those are the common strategies, the easiest to be somewhat prepared for. But catastrophic disruption? By definition, it is not possible to prepare for. And that… that is my specialty here.”
Matti blinked. “Well?”
“Picture this:” I said. “I am battling against a party of 5. They have formed a defensive circle, as I am spinning about them rapidly in a ring of conjured darkness. I zip in and out, striking at them and falling back to the shadows. They have sustained a few hits, but now are predicting me. I strike again and am run through on a warrior’s blade, but no! It was an illusion! I had turned invisible and let him take my place after the first block.
“I stand among them now, in the center of their circle. I cast explosive reaction on myself, then stab the mage with a dagger coated in psychedelics. The knight cleaves his weapon into me, which is deflected in the ensuing blast. The entire party is thrown every which way. I cast featherweight upon the knight as he careens through the air, then hyperdash and shoulder check him into the atmosphere.
“As they regain formation, I target the healer with a number of spells that he can easily deflect. At the same time, I mix in firecrackers that look and feel like spells when countered. When he realizes the feint, and ceases wasting mana on the deflection, I hit him with a wand of long distance random teleportation. 2 foes removed, 1 incapacitated.”
As I finished my hypothetical, and highly idealized scenario, I returned my focus to Matti, whose face was flush as she bit her lip and fidgeted in her chair. “I didn’t know you could scheme so well! It’s so hot.”
I wrinkled my nose, electing to take the next chance to kill the mood a bit. “Well, boyfriend material theory continues. Any questions?”
“Hmm, which of the 3 would you say I specialize in?” she asked, pushing past her arousal.
“I’d say you’re a balance of all 3, which is exactly what GCs are most experienced with. And that is why you are at severe risk of getting your teeth kicked in if you go up against them.”
Yup, that killed her mood alright. That was the objective, after all. But it was quickly forgotten as I gave her a tour of all my odd and exotic magic equipment… that hadn’t been stolen. We had fun with my collection of throwables, spitballing AoE combinations that could cause the most chaos. Then I found the Dancer’s Naginata and she simply had to try it, cutting polearms being her favorite. I sat down to enjoy the show.
Even with the limited space of the bedroom, she could make such graceful motions; planting the haft in the floor and flipping high, spinning about the pole like a seductive dancer, and making thrusts so fast that they simply couldn’t be done by mortal arms. The naginata clearly liked her too, because the magic kicked in all the way, boosting her speed, grace, and triggering the curse. It’s not a bad one, but…
She landed in front of me, caressing my cheek. “Watashitachi no kodomo-tachi ga yaki tsukusudearou ōchō o sōzō shite mite kudasai.”
I stood up and snatched the naginata from her hands. “Okay. Sorede jūbundesu.”
My fingers relinquished the semi-cursed polearm to lean against the wall and I shuddered at the fuzz-brained sensation. “Guh, that’s still weird. What did you say, Matti?”
I spied a rapidly hidden blush as I turned around. “I’m… not sure,” she lied, blatantly.
“Oh, alright,” I conceded, happy to drop the subject and return to loadout-building.
But the horny never left. As I toured her through my armory of death, deception, pranks, and destruction, she grew less and less focused. Eventually, I was telling her the story of the time I body-swapped with an ice titan using a flipside coin—with said spent coin in its display case—when she abruptly jumped over to straddle my lap. She also threw her arms around my shoulders.
“A plan for every occasion, and a dozen weapons too! You would make a perfect villain, a dastardly spy who steals and connives and murders with no one to stop him. You have no idea how fucking hot it is.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “I dunno, I think I have a pretty good estimate.”
I decided to stand up to slide her off my lap, but that just ended with us standing in roughly the same predicament. My expression went a bit smarmy. “I think it’s about time you let go.”
“What if I do not wish to?”
We matched eyes, and I plotted out my next moves carefully. “You really think you’re in charge here?” I challenged. “I could twist you up like a pretzel.”
She sprouted a devious smirk, before vanishing into a cloud of mist. Oh-so predictable, I thought to myself as I waited a split second before hyperdashing 3 feet backwards. Matti reformed in front of me, grabbing at where I just was. But she was not prepared. I grabbed her from behind, and, before she could react, pulled her chin up and planted a hickey on her neck.
Instantly, she turned to jelly. I had asserted myself completely, precisely as the succubal handbooks (and quick-reference pamphlets) foretold. She reached weakly to push me off, but I snatched the wrist and punished her by sucking even harder, eliciting an excited moan. Then I released my liplock to taunt her.
“Still think you’re in charge here?”
I held her mouth shut, forcing a less dignified response. “Mm-mmm.”
“Good girl,” I whispered in her ear before licking her neck, causing another spasm of excitement.
Then, I kneed her in the back, sending her stumbling onto the bed. Before she could collect herself, I jumped up and planted my foot on the small of her back.
“I want you to tell me something, Matti. I haven’t decided if you’re a good girl; coming to protect me, baking nice treats and planning fun dates, saving towns in my stead and following all the little rules…”
I rolled her over with my foot and placed it on her cheek, pressing her head into the soft mattress. “Or maybe you’re a bad girl. Lying to me, messing with my minions, spying on me, using me for your own ends…”
I leaned forward, pressing on her face harder still. “So, Matti. Are you a good girl, who should be rewarded, or a bad girl, who must be… punished?”
Now, despite your curiosity, I’m going to have to censor this part. Why? Well, Matti doesn’t want all her embarrassing secrets leaked. Plus, I’m not trying to raise the age rating… more than I already have. Safe to say, I showed her just how much the succubi taught me, and the wide assortment of sexy things I could do to her that didn’t involve me doing any of the icky stuff. The power dynamic was pretty fun.
A little while later, I was seated in a chair, with about 30 minutes before my departure to do more Golden Point wrap-up stuff. Matti was showering for understandable reasons, so I had some time to myself. I looked through my equipment some more, then found the still-packed bag from my trip to the Azure Sea. I paused, reaching in and fishing out the drone, with the turret removed and all tied up with sacred sealing talismans. It shook angrily at my touch. I decided to make a call.
“... Hello? … Yeah, hi. I’ve got a special-case celestial emergency, can you please transfer me? … Yes, really. … Alright, scan away.”
I felt a lie detection spell pass through the call. “... Great, thanks. … Hi, Dennis Lawson speaking. Who would I speak to about shoggoths? … No, they do, in fact, exist. … How do I– I’m fucking looking at one right now! … Thank you. … Hello? … Oh, um, Hi, Grunnus. Imma get straight to the point with you. I’ve caught a shoggoth.”
There was a long pause. “... Yes, really. I know there’s a removal initiative and all, but I wasn’t expecting to get transferred to you of all people. … Yeah, I’ve got it right here. Feel free to take it, though I would like the container back after.”
Right then, the drone vanished off the table without a sound. “Got it? … Okay, great. What’s the reward for those things? … Waddya mean? … Off the books? You’re a god, who is above you enough to give you crap? … Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before, and from my own mouth too. … Is there really no way you can pay me? … Priceless? I doubt it, but it’s better than nothing, I guess. … Yeah, thanks. Take care.”
I hung up the stones, frustrated. Whatever celestial politicking I had stepped in was a bit too deep to argue with. I was, however, about to learn Grunnus’ definition of ‘priceless’.
A fwoomp signaled the arrival of my reward. A piece of glossy paper floated down into my grasp. It was a picture, but animated. The shoggoth was in one corner, slightly cowering before Grunnus, who—in his spiky full plate armor—was perfectly reenacting ‘OH SHIT, A RAT’, complete with thrown greaves and a collision with the camera at the end. I flipped it over and read the scrawled handwriting on the back.
To: Main Character
Apologies for my inability to pay for services rendered. I hope this was worth the trouble, and is as good as promised. (It will loop until the end of time, tap to restart and enable audio for 1 loop.)
-Grunnus O’Deilan
P.S. If you see another, please just call me first.
I played the audio and admired his impression of the original video. “Huh… not bad. You did alright with this,” I finished complimenting.
Then the drone reappeared at ceiling height, and promptly smashed the table to splinters with the fall.
I sighed.
……
Laying low, day 3, mid afternoon, Golden Point office.
“Enter!”
Cam peeked in the office door. “Hey, Boss. Do you have a minute to catch up?”
I shrugged and turned to Pokle, who was still not quite filling the space in my former office. “Be alright on your own for a bit?”
She did not look up from her sorting of papers. “I should be fine. Go ahead.”
I guided us to the break room between the manager offices and drew the curtains.
“So, nice to see you back from the field. Have you gotten the low-down on what’s going on?”
“Yeah, it sounds like you got caught up in the plot. I heard your house got broken into and there was a big fuss about it around town. Now you’re doing the disappearing act and we have a bunch of new security measures at the office.”
I sat in the lower napping hammock. “Yup, that pretty much sums it up. Sorry you had to get caught up in this, but, guilty by association I guess. Hope you don’t mind some ‘friends’ looking over your shoulder for a while.”
He shrugged. “I’ll deal. It’s a shame that I won’t be the Robin to your Batman anymore.”
“True, no more co-adventures. Umm… well, we could do 1 more. The thingy, in a couple days.”
He grimaced. “Wouldn’t that paint a target on my back?”
“I mean… you’re already top 5 targets for this shadowy group. We’ve palled around a lot since I did the thing that started the trouble, so it probably wouldn’t make a difference.”
He considered it a moment. “Eh, fuck it, why not. Do I get a bodyguard?”
“You already have 2.”
I returned to Pokle’s office a few minutes later. “Hey, could you free up Cam for 48 hours 3 days from now?”
“Uhh–”
“Great, thanks.”
……
Laying low, day 3, evening, The Marbled Platter (#17 on the fine dining list across all the Hells).
We were seated in the VIP room at the back of the restaurant, menus already waiting on the table for 5. I had Chivos to my left, Matti to the right, and here I am, stuck in the middle with you. Hecate and the hitherto nameless gust sat across from us.
“Wooow…” Matti whispered as she read a piece of the menu that I didn’t have. I leaned over and she took the cue to read aloud.
“Cabernet sanguine, spiced. Select wine grapes mixed with earthy, thought-provoking herbs and the willingly-given blood of a virgin who saved herself for a perished lover, never to consummate. Aged in applewood for 17 years.”
“Swanky.”
“Either that or Tears of the Fallen Grace. A mixed red berry liqueur with the blood of a noble priest who gave in to sin and led his flock astray. Aged in oak for 212 years.”
“Why choose? Have both,” Chivos offered casually.
“At this…” she looked closer. “No prices. That must–”
“Money is no object, my dear. Choose what pleases you.”
Right then, the manager walked in, dressed to be our primary waiter for the night. Slacks, vest, bowtie, slicked hair, polished horns… and a look of sheer shock and indignation.
“An angel? We do not permit your kind here. Please leave the premises.”
Hecate did not budge, but the entire table became quite tense. “My presence here is entirely legal, and is necessary for official business.”
“Irrelevant. We do not serve angels. Please see yourself out, or I will have you removed.”
Chivos was about to handle the situation, but Hecate hushed him, something few ever got away with. She stood and slowly stepped towards the door. Or perhaps the manager standing next to the door. His expression was a bit too smug for his own good.
“Thank you for your cooper–”
The wings covering Hecate’s eyes opened, and she stared him down. He backed against the wall as she placed a hand by his head, having to hover slightly to match his height.
“Your petty discriminations are meaningless to me. Before there was heaven or hell, there was only fire. It was pure, and beautiful. In time it bore the soothing, life giving sun to the sky, and sweltering destruction of the core. They are one and the same.”
He mustered the chutzpah needed to retort, but only got as far as “You–”
“I have seen the world before demon or angel were conceptualized,” she raved angrily. “All was born in fire and ash, and when the end times come all will once more return to fire and ash. Saints and sinners, man, woman, child, demon, angel, all will be reduced to cinders. And I will taste every. last. one.”
There was a long, dead silence. “But, in the meantime, I would instead like to taste your flank steak, with onions.”
At that, she straightened up, covered her eyes again, and returned to her seat at the table. The manager promptly slid out of the room, as his dapper dress had been soiled. The table was expectedly quiet for a minute.
“Why onions?” Matti asked. “It’s already quite a plate.”
“Sulfur.”
……
P.S. As an olive branch to said manager, I would like to specify that by 'soiled', I meant that his whites were too damp with sweat to remain in dress code. I would've laughed my ass off if he actually peed his pants.