Stormy Waters

[Callista Alexander] Late afternoon. The sun's making its slow descent towards the horizon, evening making its slow approach behind. Shadows are starting to get longer on the ground, but there's still plenty of light to see by.

Which is helpful for Callista, as she makes her way towards a river. Why this bit of river? Directions from a friend. But what's going to be there, well... Hopefully no unnatural forces of nature, flying bits of fiery rock, personifications of any deity passing through the area. Just Molly would be nice.

She left her car about 15 minutes walk further up river, at what seems to be a nice little fishing spot. A couple of middle-aged men noted her passing without a word, before returning their attention to the little bobbers floating on the water's surface. She keeps pace with the slow flow of the water, as both make their wending ways towards the great lake out to the east.

[Molly Quincannon] There's a battered old dock - somewhere that people used to tie up their boats and probably do when the weather's better - at the coordinates mentioned in the email. As Callista approaches, a small boat (motor-powered, with something resembling a cabin, best fits the name 'runabout') pulls up to the dock slowly, relying on momentum to carry it as the engines are stopped. The boat stops (perhaps it dropped anchor) and Molly steps out of the cabin onto the splintery boards. Closer to, Molly looks like death without so much as a cursory warm-up, and anyone with any hint of Awareness of such things can feel that she's been Working, probably nearly non-stop, for awhile now. But she spares Callista a smile that contains a fair bit of gratitude and says, "Thanks for coming. Hop in. I'll show you the homestead." Though the last two words of that sentence contain a great deal of pain. "I figure if I'm going to info-dump you, I should at least have the manners to offer you tea or something while I do it."

[Callista Alexander] Callista backs warily away from the edge of the water as the boat drifts towards the dock, unsure of who (or what?) is piloting it. She's trusting who she thinks sent the message, but she certainly doesn't want to get caught in the middle of nowhere by who-knows-what, especially as nobody else knows that she's out here. (Yeah, great planning there, girl.)

Then Molly appears, looking... Well, not as bad as... Damn, there was someone. Who the hell was he? An internal shrug, doesn't really matter at the moment. "You ok? You look like you've escaped hell, then went back to get your keys."

She eyes the old dock carefully, not entirely trusting the old, damp wood to fully support her. She slowly, carefully steps along one of the more solid-seeming pieces of the structure and steps into the boat.

"Interesting place you have. Met the neighbours, yet?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly waves the comment away as Calli boards the little runner. "Nah; I'm fine. Well, relatively. You should've seen me back in August. Two days with Nephandi isn't exactly a spa vacation. My view of 'fine' kind of shifted after that." Then she manages another smile - it's at least close to the mischievous grin she usually wears, so that's something. "And this isn't the place; we've got a bit of a ride to get through first. Hold onto your socks."

She pilots the boat in silence for a little while - it's really only a minute or two - before Callista might have a few questions, because there's a rather large ship that looks like a World War II destroyer sitting in the middle of the river, and they seem to be heading right for it.

[Callista Alexander] Callista finds somewhere to settle for the moment, leaving Molly to concentrate on taking the small boat to... well, somewhere on the river. After a few minutes she can't hold the question back any more. "Where're we headed, anyway? Wouldn't it have been quicker just to drive there?"

She asks just before the ship comes into view in the distance, looking rather out of place and, truth be told, out of time. Coincidence and happenstance are things that she's starting to believe have more than random chance behind. That ship is bound to be where they're heading to, it's just too odd for it to be anywhere else.

"Oh. There."

[Molly Quincannon] It does a person good to laugh, or so they say. It seems to be the case for Molly, anyway, who chuckles a little and nods. "Yeah. One of the best-protected spots in Chicago. Welcome to the Lafette, flagship of the Royal Ethernautical Society. Who are, near as I can figure, the more militant, exploratory arm of the Sons of Ether, instead of the ones who lock themselves in their labs for decades. Wait 'til you see the inside."

Soon enough, they reach the main deck of the Lafette, and Molly ushers Callista into what is very much a work in progress. Some of the walls and floors are stripped down to the bare metal, but further along the floors are carpeted and the walls papered, giving the whole place a sort of Victorian steampunky feel that's only enhanced by the glass tubes, some shattered, some recently repaired, set into the walls. After a bit of 'follow-the-leader' during which Molly will of course field questions (though she's uncharacteristically quiet - even on short acquaintance, Calli likely gets the impression that this caffeine-fuelled creature never shuts up unless it's bad - otherwise), she nudges open the door of a Victorian-ish bedroom which, apart from bed and wardrobe, contains two comfy-looking armchairs and a large cage from which tubes that resemble scaled-down versions of the tubes set into the walls and ceiling. A pale-brown-and-tan ferret clambers halfway up the mesh of the cage and peers at Calli, all curious charm, while a darker shape scuttles erratically through the tubes overhead. "Cabin sweet cabin," she says, gesturing at one of the armchairs. "Take a seat. I've got about five different kinds of tea, so ... gunpowder mint, peach black, jasmine, white or honeybush masala? I'll fire up Zoing."

[Callista Alexander] Callista stands and walks towards the front of the small boat as they approach, getting a better view of the old ship. It is an impressive sight, somewhat foreboding for someone who's never been close to a military vessel - let alone one that a group of eccentric mages-come-scientists have had their hands on for who knows how long.

Callista follows along through the corridors, their sounds of their footsteps reverberating through the patches of bare metal. muffled to nothing where the carpet has been places. Questions do flit through Callista's mind, but it doesn't seem like the right time to be asking them. Not about the ship, at least. There's more going on that she knows - presumably about the golden-eyes Sending that has been plaguing Chicago. Her eyes are wide as they walk, though, gaze flitting from place to place as she tries to figure out what pieces of equipment are for, where the tubes go. One question does get voiced, though. "Who else is here?"

Then they reach the cabin. The cute little furball climbing in its cage gets a smile as it's noticed. The darker shape above, however, is noticed and backed away from a little. "What is that?" Callista asks looking up. Door still open, her back towards it.

[Molly Quincannon] The question about 'who else is here' doesn't get answered straight away, beyond, "...that's one of the things I need to talk to you about. Hot drinks first."

The slight wariness gets another chuckle, though. "That's the other ferret. Callista, meet Neal..." she gestures at the charmer chittering at Calli in a 'feedmepetmeloveme?' sort of way while still clinging to the side of the cage "...and Hardison." The smaller, darker shape heads towards the cage via tube-highway and all but falls out inside the cage, revealing it to be a darker-brown ferret with a black band of fur across its eyes that makes it look like it's wearing a bandit mask. It runs around the cage in a circle for a second, clambers up at high speed until it's hanging upside down from the cage's ceiling by all four paws, then falls into one of the little 'hammocks' hung inside the cage, where it curls up and apparently falls asleep. "...The con artist and the spaz," she finishes, with a fond, slightly sheepish grin. Then she drops into an armchair and fiddles with a remote control. "You didn't say what tea you wanted. Zoing goes by coordinate recognition so I could just make shit up, but I'd like to offer a preference."

Assuming she gets a preference, she pushes a couple of buttons on the said remote control (lord knows what that's supposed to do, but it was established from the get-go that Molly? Is a little strange. But then again, mage) and sighs, raking her hair out of her eyes with a hand in a tired sort of gesture. "This isn't my ship. The Lafette belongs to my cabalmate Atlas. And he's missing. Worse than missing. Not dead yet, but... Israel is in the same boat, and so are two others I don't think you've met. All four of them are connected to me in some way - not that I think that GoldenEyes is trying to screw with me; I'm not that self-absorbed. It's just ... if I'm kind of edgy or whatever, that's kind of why."

[Callista Alexander] There's an obvious loss of tension from Callista as the dark shape resolves into another small ball of manic fuzz. It's not completely gone - she's in the middle of a river in a ship owned by Etherites, who the hell knows what they have reality contorted into doing here - but there's at least a semblence of calm again. The woman peers into the cage, at the sleeping ferret, as she's reminded about tea. "Oh, yes, sorry. The gunpowder mint sounds lovely, thank you."

Turning back to Molly, she steps over to the empty chair and gently settles onto it. Perched towards the edge of the seat, she leans forward as she carries on looking around the room. Until Molly starts speaking, at least. Then reality makes its harsher side know again, as Molly explains the missing people.

Now the questions start to flow. Some spoken, some not.

"Atlas, Israel and two others are missing. Were they working together when something happened? Or did they disappear one by one? And what do you mean by not dead yet? What's happened to them? Are the others ok?"

Is anyone else going to vanish?

"Have you been doing anything that would single you out for her attention?"

Is water wet?

[Molly Quincannon] There's a sigh from Molly. "I really don't think it was about me. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or ... maybe the right place at the wrong time. To start at the core of it and work my way out. This GoldenEyes thing is a Sending; you know that. I was asking how it got its power since it's on the wrong side of the Gauntlet to power up, and we didn't have an answer? Well, now we do. What it does is take people - in this case, it was going to be two orphaned Sleeper kids - and shunt them into a little Umbral pocket of its own making and then ... the word they used is Disembodied. From what little I get of this ... look, Prime's the power of the universe, right? Everything contains it; it's like that Midichlorian bullshit from the Star Wars prequels. What this thing does is ... it's like vampirism, except Prime instead of blood. Leaves you just as dead, though. Probably more so, since the soul is probably Prime too, and it's damn sure that the Avatar is. They just wouldn't be anymore. We've got two weeks, three at the absolute outside, before they're worse than dead."

A ... thing rolls in. It's about the size of a small vacuum cleaner without the hose attachments, and has a single webcam-eye and what look like antennae, and two claw-hands with which it holds a tray containing two mugs, conveniently placed so that they're just under the antennae. A tea ball is in one that reads "Warden Amell" with a griffin design on it; a similar one that reads "I'd Rather Be Fighting Darkspawn" appears to be empty. Molly pushes another button on the remote control and it says, "mekkatea?" in a slightly squeaky automated voice. Hot water pours into the "Warden Amell" mug; the other fills with coffee that smells impossibly strong. When both are full and the liquid stops, Molly picks up her 'darkspawn' mug and says, "Thanks, Zoing." The thing wheels over to Callista so that she can pick up her own mug.

"...Any questions so far?"

[Callista Alexander] Remember when you walked away from that nice, quiet life in the mountains..?

Molly gives her the explanation, just before the little... thingy arrived with the mugs. Picking hers up carefully, smelling the scent of mint-infused steam, she follows Molly's lead. "Thank you, Zoing." Callista dunks the tea ball in the hot water a few times, until it looks about the right strength, then puts it back onto the tray. "Zoing?" she asks Molly, unsure of whether it's a simple remote controlled machine, or if there's something more going on.

Callista shuffles back in the chair, starting to get a little more comfortable in the strange surroundings. Mug handle held in her right hand, she cups her left around the body of the mug. Looking at the curling tendrils of steam, she returns to the subject at hand.

"You know, I've been trying to figure out what she's been feeding on. I thought she might have been picking off people from the disasters she's been causing, ripping the life and soul away from people involved, because who would know if anything more than a building falling on them would have killed them? Then I was wondering about that strange blooming thing that kicked in not too long ago, if she'd come here to feed on that somehow." The slim woman looks up at Molly. "It's never that simple, though, never that nice. So she tucks people away in a little bit of the Umbra until she can feed on them later. I don't get why she can't shove herself back there, though. What's stopping her?"

Callista takes a sip of the hot tea.

[Molly Quincannon] She answers the bit about Zoing first. "A robot. Named after a construct in the Girl Genius comics. Basically I threw a glorified kettle, a coffee maker with built-in grinder, a series of tubes, a motor and some limited AI into an old vacuum cleaner. He can pick up the right tea when asked, and refills his own water and coffee bean reservoirs. Not a bad bit of work, but I want to clean up the AI a bit and install a bit more recognition software so I don't have to be picky about where I put things so that Zoing can pick them up by coordinates."

The rest gets a sigh. "She can't go unless she's Banished. Why, I don't know. I never made a study of Spirit, so I don't know a lot about the Gauntlet. What I do know is that it's a bitch to cross, so that might be part of it. And the other part is ... well, it's a Sending. It's a message. Messages are sent. There are still rules, I guess. Hence the rest of it. Apparently there's a way to destroy it, and maybe get our people back. And we are going to get them back." Molly looks angry and very determined as she says that. "Even if I were the kind of bitch to leave innocents hang - and I'm not - Atlas is my cabalmate and Israel is one of my best friends. She came for me when I was--" She bites it off, takes a deep breath, swigs coffee like it's the stuff of life (and to her, one supposes it is) "--she's rescued me once, from worse. But we can't just ... find them, exactly. It's got to be complicated. Which is where we come in."

Another swig of coffee, and then she says, "You've got your ear to the ground on the mundane side, I figure. Given the media and the contacts that gives you ... there's a cult forming around GoldenEyes, and we need to find it. I haven't got good descriptions of the members of it that I saw, but I could probably track it down to a place if I didn't have so damn much else to do in all this. But you? You might pick something up that I wouldn't, necessarily. It might help, if you'd be willing."

[Callista Alexander] "You know," Callista crosses her legs, one knee resting on top of the other, "I was wondering if soaking up those Avatar shards dragged along a few extra passengers. Maybe ones that are trying, somehow, to limit what she can do. Maybe that's who keeps stopping us from pimp-slapping her back into the Umbra. But I don't know the first thing about the spirit world either, so this really is just guessing. Although wasn't there some guy bonded somehow to one of the fragments? Would he be able to affect Goldeneyes without getting so close that his will gets walled off?"

Callista is still curious about what happened to Molly when she was kidnapped. But it's obvious that it's something Molly isn't ready to talk about - at least to Callista - so she leaves it, looking down into her tea as Molly gathers herself again.

"We are going to get them back. Every last one of them. It's not this thing's place to rip patterns out of the universe. It's not anybody's place to do that. So, yes, we will stop her." Callista's voice becomes hard, convinced of this. Shredding entire patterns, removing them from the endless cycle of creation, the endless search for perfection, isn't something she can leave.

"There are a lot of religious groups foaming at the mouth at the moment, either expecting the end of the world or salvation to arrive in the next few weeks. I hadn't heard about any new cults springing up around this woman, though. Are they willing, do you think? I've seen her controlling a group of random people without breaking a sweat, the way they reacted when she disappeared definitely gave the impression that none of it was their choice. But I'll see what I can dig up."

[Molly Quincannon] [[Eh, fuck it; Perc + Awareness-as-Empathy. Can Molly see the Curiosity writ large on Callista's face?]]

[Callista Alexander] [[Man + Sub - Is she that easy to read?]]

[Molly Quincannon] Molly shakes her head at the first bit. "He can't affect her directly at all. The fact that he's got a Consecration bond with one of the shards means that he can't act without her knowing what he's doing. That's why he's sort of subcontracting us. He knows what to do; he just can't do it without her knowing, so he'll get us to do it in our own ... unique and inimitable styles. Not to mention the fact that the sheer number of Wonders he's carrying - things that'll still work when the Avatar firewall thing happens, that is - probably means that she can do that to him too. Anyway, we don't want to pimp-slap her back into the Umbra. If we do that, she just collects more shards, gets more powerful, finds a way back here even stronger and wreaks more havoc. Binding her doesn't work because ... well, in this case because of some Hermetic shmuck in Jersey. If there's a ritual to just get rid of her ... it, frankly ... well, we use it. But first we're hoping we're going to be able to convince her that this is not the way, what she's doing. Which is where I come in, apparently." She sighs and drinks more coffee before she goes on. "I'm fishing the timestream right now. Have been since I heard. Seems that some poor kid's going to actually Awaken over this. Awaken into Quiet. If I can find him before he does ... or at least be there when it happens ... well, I - we, whoever ends up with me on this one - can rub this Sending's nose into what it's done and make it see reason. There's other stuff, and it's not that I'm not curious, but ... I have a job to do, and it's ... kind of exhausting." Which explains why Molly looks so whipped. Clearly 'fishing the timestream' is something she does until she drops. Then she gets up and does it all over again.

Then she recognises the look on Callista's face and smiles a little. "You could have asked, you know. I got myself nabbed by Nephandi; you know that." She pulls the neck of her T-shirt down and to the side to show mangled cog-wheel tattoos and faint scar tissue that indicates a very old gunshot exit wound. "First I got shot, then they took me. The first thing they did was infect my nervous system with tainted parasites that kept me in constant pain and wouldn't let me sleep or lose consciousness; forced me awake and kept me hurting. Then they spent two days trying to make me walk the Cauls, with words and with torture. I'd describe exactly what they did - because I can, down to the last detail - but it'd give you nightmares. Let's just say that Barabbi are inventive when it comes to torture, and it was all done magically because I was already in bad enough shape with the shooting and everything. They made my tattoos burn. They half-froze my vitreous humour. They did other things. And they played on my curiosity. Three people came down as soon as they knew where I was and had some kind of plan. Israel was one of them. She finally knocked me out, when they'd cut through to where I was. Knocked me out, and when we were in a safe place, healed me. Spent hours picking out the parasites. So..." She shrugs and looks at her coffee. "I guess you can kind of figure it's really personal, now, this whole thing."

[Callista Alexander] "So what do we need to do? I really can't believe that this thing is going to give up just because we point out the error of its ways, even if that does mean someone ending up in Quiet. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't wish that on anyone! The poor guy's gonna need help, and I'll be at the front of the queue to give it. But this thing, this creation. It's insane, and it needs to be stopped. I caught that she - it - had been bound before and released somehow. What is there stopping her from being bound again? Can't we just track down this gizmo in New Jersey and get it going again?" Not that things are ever that simple, but you never know - maybe just this once.

"Besides, if there's a link between this thing and the guy telling you what to do, isn't there a chance that she's pulling his strings too? Getting us to do what she needs doing?"

Callista listens carefully to Molly, before answering. "I didn't want to pry. Contrary to popular opinion, journalists do sometimes have enough sensitivity to know when to butt out and let things lie. But thank you, for telling me. I'm not going to pretend to have any idea what it felt like to go through any of that. But I'm glad that you made it through. As you say, we will get them all back.

[Molly Quincannon] "No, look, if it's bound, it's not gone. If we bind it and just leave it sitting this side ... someone's going to poke and prod at it and unleash it again - by mistake, through hubris, something. You're missing a detail. I said that while we show it the error of its ways - maybe it listens, maybe it doesn't, but it's a distraction. However that goes, whether it shows mercy or not, this thing gets eliminated. I don't have more details on that because that's not part of my job, and the bit of this thing that is my job isn't going as well as I'd like yet and my system is currently about sixty percent caffeine and Time/Entropy scry-shit is draining as unholy fuck but I've got to keep trying because the gonna-get-Awakened-kid is an integral part of this even if I don't know entirely how yet and the curiosity is killing me but I don't have time for questions right now so I'll find out when the shit goes down." She then remembers that she requires oxygen to live and finishes up with, "Locking it in a box will only stop it for a little while. Someone always gets nosy. I think we both know that. What we're doing is making sure this never happens again. And we're running out of time. And no, I don't think she's pulling his strings. He wants this thing destroyed more than we do, so that shard of his lover can be put to rest. There are things that you just can't hide, and that kind of rage and sorrow and regret is one of them. Besides, Israel vouches for him. She's the most aware person I know in this kind of thing. She'd know if anyone would. So don't go calling this guy's motives into question before you've even met him, okay?"

Then she sighs. "I'm sorry for snapping. I haven't been sleeping much. It's good you asked the question, and at first I was the same. But he's also, on top of what I know of him, the one who warned me in advanced of a Technocracy raid on my house, when it didn't benefit him at all to do so, and people who know way better than I do trust him. I have to believe in that. And as to the other thing ... it's not as hard to talk about as you think. It's over. I survived. I learned a few things. And more to the point, I didn't Fall. Something to be proud of, right? A banner to hold up when I need to remind myself just what stubbornness can do."

[Callista Alexander] Time and Entropy. Two things that Callista has a vague knowledge about, but certainly no awareness. No ability to sense them, let alone go nosing around with them. Unless there are other contacts she can draw on, it seems that Molly's alone in her search.

Speaking softly, Callista replies to Molly's frantic snap. "Bottling her up might only be temporary, but if we're as short on time as it sounds then it might be worth a shot to buy a little more. While she's bouncing around inside her bottle, she's not getting any more powerful, not fuelling her little cult, and not levelling big chunks of the city. But if you say that this guy can be trusted and that he has a sound plan for dealing with the Sending then, well, I'll have to take your word for it. I simply don't know enough of the locals, or enough about the history around here, to do anything else. But it doesn't mean I'll blindly follow anyone, and it doesn't mean I won't question things. This Sending isn't above manipulating the minds of others to get her way, I've seen that, but if you're sure that she isn't pulling his strings like that... Then ok, his motives are his, and he's doing his best to stop this thing."

Callista uncrosses her legs and leans forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Is there anything else I can help you with. I'll see what I can find out about any new cults hitting the city, but I'm not going to be any use with your fishing expeditions. "

[Molly Quincannon] "We don't know how. The leads we're getting are on how to destroy it. If it's a choice between trying to take the time to destroy it with the advantage of an ally, however behind-the-scenes he is, and trying to research how to bottle it like some kind of djinn, which would probably take a lot more time on top of the actually getting it done part ... I'm going to take the path where we have at least some advantage. I mean, do you know where to start looking? There's not a lot of Spirit know-how around here, and what there is ... well, one's damn near phobic and the other wants to make it suffer for stealing his fiancee." She shrugs. "Sometimes you've just gotta run where Fate's pointing, I guess ... where you can't twist it to suit your own ends, anyway."

She ponders the other question briefly, then says, "I can't think of anything, beyond spreading the word to whoever you might meet along the way. They can talk to Solomon Ward or Kim Jenkins if they need more details; I know those two have their parts to play here. So might other people. If we can find out who among us is involved and what they're actually doing, maybe we can start putting together what we're expected to do and get a head start on some stuff." She shrugs. "I dunno if it's going to work out well that way, but it's worth a try. I'd do it myself, but I haven't got time or energy to be an information hub right now, much as I'd like to be."

Then she stands up and stretches. "I should get back to work ... but I should probably eat something first. Want anything? I've got leftover moussaka, or ratatouille if you're veggie. Or both if you're hungry. And at least it's incentive for me to eat. I keep forgetting. Too much more important stuff going on. But I'd get lectured at if..." Letting that trail off, she shakes her head and says, "Anyway. Food? Or do I eat alone?"

Whether Callista stays on the ship for dinner or not, Molly drops her back at the dock in the runabout before going back to whatever intensive magics she's doing to find the where, when and who she needs to find.