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Stopping By For A Nice Little Chat (IC, Closed)


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So tragic!

Archeville placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I am sorry for your loss, Lynn. But you have kept him in your heart, and in that way he lives on, though your heroic deeds. It.. that is partly the same reason I do what I do."

Oh, why not? She has bared her soul to me, how can I not share similar? Besides, I am sure she has heard some of the stories of my family, and questions would surely be raised at her wedding.

The Doktor sat back, and took a deep breath, "you know, of course, my infamous grandfather, Doktor Verrill Herman Archeville. Loyal soldier for the German Empire in World War I, dedicated 'mad scientist' for the Nazis in World War II. When Verrill learned that his mistress was a Jew, he shot her, but she managed to get away... and, unknown to him, with a son in her womb. That son, Varick, was born and raised in West Germany by his mother, and became a computer engineer of some skill. He eventually met a psychology student, Cynthia Bauer, and the two were wed. Unfortunately, there were complications during my birth, and she passed away."

He paused a moment, "my father raised me by himself, and his task was made a bit easier by my extreme intellect -- I was speaking coherent sentences before my first birthday, and when I entered kindergarten I was reading at a second grade level. But this also worried him, for he knew that extreme intellect carried an increased risk for mental problems, as shown by his father, and rumored to exist in many of our ancestors. Verrill's father was a glassblower and silversmith obsessed with duality, and others showed evidence of extreme bipolar, multiple personality disorder, and the gamut of psychopathological and sociopathological disorders. Concern over my own mental health, combined with increased stresses at work, took a toll on his own sanity. A great toll," his voice trailed off.

He paused again, in a very and detached flat tone. "On June second, 1977 -- my thirteenth birthday -- at 3:54pm, my father tried to kill me. I had just come home from school, bringing in applications to several colleges; he ran at me with a cleaver, screaming about 'protecting the world' and the 'danger' I posed. I evaded him, got out of the house, and ran to the Bundespolizei, the local police. They captured my father, who never stopped ranting about me, and had him committed to an asylum."

"He is still there today, and has gotten worse. A 'heretofore unseen combination of late-onset Tay-Sachs disease and something akin to Lesch-Nyhan syndrome,' they say. As for me, well, adoptions are tricky at best, and near impossible if the child is in his teens, so for several years, I was effectively a ward of the state... an especially difficult life, given my grandfather's status and the stigma still associated with the Lebensborn."

He swallowed hard, then continued, his tone returning to a normal level. "So I dedicated myself to aiding others. To make sure no child was left parentless, that no one with mental illness need suffer in silence."

When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead!
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"So I dedicated myself to aiding others. To make sure no child was left parentless, that no one with mental illness need suffer in silence."

Grim listened in stunned silence as Viktor related his own personal horror story; when he finished, she walked over to him and gave him a fierce yet warm bear hug.

"You poor thing; parents can really suck sometimes, can't they?"

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and then returned to her seat.

"I've actually heard of Tay-Sachs before; Ashkenazi Jews are supposed to be more likely to have it, though I also heard that's a myth. I do have a niece who died of it, when I was little."

She sighed and shook her head. “My mom's had trouble in the past, y'know, with mental illness. After my dad got injured, she had a real rough time of it; major depression with the occasional psychotic episode. So I know what it’s like to live in fear of a parent. The big thing is to be able to get away from them, and take care of yourself.â€

For a little bit she said nothing, just gazed at the good doctor with penetrating eyes as she gnawed on a thumbnail. “So you’re a quarter Jewish on your dad’s side; that would been enough to send you to a camp.†She smiled self-consciously. “It shouldn’t make a difference, but to me it kind of does; it will make a big difference when you meet my family, which is kinda sad.â€

Grim hopped up rubbed her hands together vigorously. “Okay, I think we’ve wallowed in self-pity and melancholy for long enough, don’t you? Are there any tests you can run while I finish my sordid tale? All that’s really left is the hardcore faerie stuff; the angsty soap opera stuff I pretty much covered.â€

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"Indeed!," he exclaimed, hopping up from his seat, "though we should go down to the laboratory for the tests. Walk this way!" He fully expected her to do the 'walk this way' bit from Young Frankenstein.

For Science!

He lead her from the dining room to the parlor, and tapped a section of one of the mantlepieces, causing a panel in a wall to slide back and reveal a small elevator. "And, yes, Ashkenazi Jews are more susceptible to Tay-Sachs. In fact, screening for Tay-Sachs carriers was one of the first great successes of the emerging field of genetic counseling and diagnosis! Many Cajuns of southern Louisiana carry the same mutation that is most common in Ashkenazi Jews, and French Canadians of southeastern Quebec have a carrier frequency similar to Ashkenazi Jews, but they carry a different mutation."

We are all one race! The Metahuman Race!

The elevator took them down one floor, and opened to a map room, about a third the size of the parlor above. "It comes in three forms, Tay-Sachs does, though only the first two are lethal. Babies with Infantile Tay-Sachs disease appear to develop normally for the first six months after birth. Then, as nerve cells become distended with gangliosides, a relentless deterioration of mental and physical abilities occurs. The child becomes blind, deaf, and unable to swallow; muscles begin to atrophy and paralysis sets in; death usually occurs before the age of four. Juvenile Tay-Sachs disease usually presents itself in children between two and 10 years of age. They develop cognitive, motor, and speech difficulties, swallowing difficulties, unsteadiness of gait, and spasticity; patients with Juvenile TSD usually die between five and fifteen years. Adult or Late Onset Tay-Sachs disease -- what my father has -- occurs in patients in their 20s and early 30s. It is characterized by unsteadiness of gait and progressive neurological deterioration. Symptoms also include speech and swallowing difficulties, unsteadiness of gait, spasticity, cognitive decline, and psychiatric illness, particularly schizophrenic-like psychosis."

"Ah, watch your step here," he said as he lead her from the map room south to a furniture storage room... and suddenly shot straight up! The room was upside-down, and when they entered, they 'fell' to the ceiling! "Still trying to work that bug out. Ah, now, if that was all my father had, it would be bad enough, but he also got hit with something like Lesch–Nyhan syndrome. Lesch-Nyhan is present at birth, and the first signs are poor muscle control and moderate mental retardation, seen within the first year of life. By the second year, the most striking feature of Lesch-Nyan --self-mutilating behaviors, characterized by lip and finger biting -- manifests, as well as facial grimacing, involuntary writhing, and repetitive movements of the arms and legs similar to those seen in Huntington's disease. The proclivity for self-mutilation is especially bad in male victims of the disease, as the syndrome also causes anemia in some men. Some victims also evidence Tourette's-like verbal tics. A few researchers have described the syndrome as an inversion of certain natural instincts: self-preservation becomes self-mutilation, and positive feelings towards another are expressed as uncontrolled cursing at them; it is possible that my father's homicidal rage towards me was the first manifestation of the disease, and the rest came after he was committed to the asylum." He lead her east to another room, the central HVAC control, where gravity was normal, "But my father did not show any of these symptoms until then, and at that time he was in his late twenties, well beyond the point where any symptoms would normally manifest. And, most victims of Lesch-Nyhan do not live to see thirty, unless they receive constant medical care, primarily to prevent them from fatally mutilating themselves; my father still lives, and turned sixty yesterday."

From there east to the laundry room, with industrial capacity washer and dryer which loomed silently. Some loom-like devices sat in one corner. "On a less gruesome note, there is an equally fascinating study of the Ashkenazi Jew genome: their -- or perhaps I should say our -- intellect. The intelligence of the Ashkenazi Jews has been the subject of study and speculation within the fields of psychometry and evolutionary biology, as some psychometric studies have reported generally higher IQ's -- primarily in verbal and mathematical performance -- among Ashkenazi Jews than among the general population." From there, a turn south to a well-equipped, though fairly mundane, workshop, with a full set of woodworking and auto mechanic tools. It was something others would drool over, but still not what she expected from the Super-Scientist. He walked up to one workbench and moved a few select items around, causing another concealed door to open, revealing another small elevator. "One highly publicized proposal, published in 2005, puts the psychometric findings into an evolutionary perspective, suggesting that the Ashkenazi collective history of segregation and persecution in medieval Europe could have prompted higher intelligence to emerge as a result of natural selection. This proposal has, predictably, been criticized on various grounds, as the studies touch upon several sensitive subjects such as the link between race and intelligence -- both concepts about the definition and nature of which there is little agreement among specialists -- as well as issues of racialism and anti-semitism."

Let my people know!

"How does that work, anyway? The 'quarter Jewish' thing, that is? I do not know how Jewish my paternal grandmother was, if she was full, half, quarter, or what, but that would determine how Jewish I am, yes? I heard once it is not all genetics, though, that it takes religion and culture into account, too... which would make me not Jewish at all."

The elevator took them down, another level, and when it opened, Grim finally saw what she knew had to be here: Archeville's main laboratories and workshops. Ahead, physics and mechanical workstations (including a blacksmith's forge), and beyond it, chemical/biochemical/bio-electronic laboratories. To the left, an automated surgery and operating theater; to the right, computer, electronics, and robotics workstations. In the middle, where all four met, a massive pillar rose up, filled with monitors, each showing a different scene, news from around the world. Smells coming from a small hallway off the electronics and robotics section caught Lynn's attention, water and chlorine -- a pool!

He looked at her, and was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "So... where do you want to start?"

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The trip down to Dok's lab triggered a horrible childhood flashback for Grim; her father had shown her a very odd film by Dr Seuss called The 5000 Fingers of Dr T when she was little. There was a very creepy scene where a man in black mask took the kid down to the dungeons in the basement; she had nightmares for weeks afterwards. Of course, it would have been even creepier if he still had his German accent, but hearing him rattle on and on about the Jews down here was really starting to freak her out.

"How does that work, anyway? The 'quarter Jewish' thing, that is? I do not know how Jewish my paternal grandmother was, if she was full, half, quarter, or what, but that would determine how Jewish I am, yes? I heard once it is not all genetics, though, that it takes religion and culture into account, too... which would make me not Jewish at all."

Still peering about very nervously and visibly shying away from the blacksmith's forge, the changeling responded in a tremulous voice.

"Uh, yeah, by Jewish law it goes by the mother's side of the family, so your dad...your dad would be considered Jewish, but technically you're not unless your mom was, which I'm guessing, y'know, she wasn't."

"So... where do you want to start?"

"Uh, y'know, anywhere is fine...so,um...what kinds of tests did you have in mind...?"

I can always fly out of here, right? Yeah, if I can somehow retrace my steps back through the house of CRAZY! :shock:

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"No, my mother was Sinti. Ah, Romani, or Gypsy; another persecuted group," he replied, his tone fading slightly as it had when he'd spoken of his father. "As I said, she passed away due to complications during my birth, so I never knew her or her side of the family."

Perhaps I should change that...

His tone quickly snapped back, though, and with a sharp clap he resumed his animated style. "Yes, tests! Ah, and I see you are looking at my blacksmith's forge with great trepidation! Which goes along with your 'fae' nature, yes? Ah, silly me!," he exclaimed as he lead Lynn to a nearby chair, still well away from the forge. "Here I have been monopolizing the conversation, going on about myself, when it is you, your abilities and your past, we should be focusing on!" He pulled out some assorted scanning equipment from drawers and cabinets and placed them on a nearby table, "So, were about to tell me what happened after Nanowire... ah, the 'hardcore faerie stuff', yes?"

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"Here I have been monopolizing the conversation, going on about myself, when it is you, your abilities and your past, we should be focusing on!" He pulled out some assorted scanning equipment from drawers and cabinets and placed them on a nearby table, "So, were about to tell me what happened after Nanowire... ah, the 'hardcore faerie stuff', yes?"

Grim was still a bit uneasy, but having her fears acknowledged helped a little.

"Yeah, okay. Well the first time I met Wesley, he did that thing where his eyes glow? And of course, the first thing I'm thinkin' is he's try to see me naked, so I freak out a bit; then he tells me I'm not human."

For a few seconds she said nothing, just picked at a seam on her conjured jeans.

"Which was kinda scary to hear, but it did make sense, y'know? It explained a lot of things. So after that, I did some research into magic and stuff, and I was in this bookstore called The Never-Ending Story in Riverside; ever been there? Very cool. And I met two people there who kinda helped me on my journey, just like Joseph Campbell said they would."

She stopped for a second and addressed Dok directly.

"Uh, can I drink down here? I don't want to make a mess, but all the yappin' is leaving me pretty parched."

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"Wesley Knight, yes?," he said while assembling... something. "I hear he has opened a tattoo and piercing shop. Have not heard how much of his work is via his own powers, though."

They dated for a while, did they not? Yes, I am sure of it. Wonder why they split?

"I have head of that bookstore," he continued, "but never been to it. Perhaps you could introduce me to the owner? I am always interested in learning new things, and if the staff there were able to help you in your supernatural research, I may have need for their services."

Perhaps they could help me obtain some bona fide magical grimoires for my research!

Lynn's question was answered with another question. "I thought you did not need to drink, or eat? Immune to diseases and environmental temperature extremes, too, right? Ah, sorry, yes, of course you may, just try not to spill anything. What did your research turn up?"

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"I thought you did not need to drink, or eat? Immune to diseases and environmental temperature extremes, too, right? Ah, sorry, yes, of course you may, just try not to spill anything. What did your research turn up?"

Grim looked mildly annoyed. "Well just because I don't get thirsty anymore doesn't mean my mouth can't get dry, silly. Which I know doesn't quite makes sense, but it's true." She conjured up a glass of water, quickly gulped it down, and then dismissed the glass. "See? No muss, no fuss. And yeah, as my body becomes more fae or whatever, I seem to need less and less; I had no idea how much time I wasted in the bathroom!"

The tips of her ears went a little pink after that statement, but she continued.

"So yeah, my researches. Well pretty much everything was pointing at 'faerie', especially my issues with iron. At the bookstore I met Detective Morena Colby of the FCPD, who I guess is kinda their resident magic expert, and this Irish kid named Sirius who was some sort of kitsune, even though I think they're normally Japanese."

What the hell was Dok putting together? It looked vaguely sinister...:?

"Reena suggested some books, but really I didn't get to know her until later; it was Sirius who was able to help me find the portal to Avalon, back in the alley where I'd disappeared and reappeared in the Fens. I was sucked right through a brick wall, and woke up on the Other Side, which was this huge forest. Also, I was a cat; a talking cat."

She grinned and shook her head.

"Stupid faerie tales."

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Archeville paused in his work and looked at Lynn while she conjured, drank, and dismissed her glass of water. "How does that taste? I mean, I know water does not have much of a taste, but... well, how well do you have to know something in order to conjure it? Can you create a dish you have never eaten, only had described to you?"

Limited by personal experience? Or tapping into some sort of group memory thing?

"Ah, Detective Colby -- I do know her," he said as he continued assembling whatever it was he was putting together. It has about as big as a hand and a half, and roughly rectangular. "I have been trying to get some time to talk to her, but, well, you know how hectic schedules can get."

As a finishing touch -- and perhaps sensing her discomfort at the sight of it -- Archeville added a case to the device, and it suddenly looked very familiar. "A cat, you say? Hrm... " He tapped his chin with the device, "what color? Also, when and why did you take the name 'Grimalkin'? If I remember my French history correctly, that was the name of Nostradamus' cat, as well as a term used in MacBeth to refer either to one of the Old Crones' familiars... or to one of the Crones herself."

Oh, what a good idea for a gift for Mona: tickets to the Shakespeare festival!
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"How does that taste? I mean, I know water does not have much of a taste, but... well, how well do you have to know something in order to conjure it? Can you create a dish you have never eaten, only had described to you?"

Lynn frowned, deep in thought. "Well, I didn't really specify a taste when I made it; I just thought 'glass of water', and that's how it turned out. In general, I think I have to know something, like, at least slightly to create it. My family's been in the furniture business for years on my dad's side, so I'm pretty good with that." She tugged at her lower lip. "Like if you asked me to make you a pork crop, it would probably taste funny, 'cause I've kept kosher from birth, so I've never had one."

"A cat, you say? Hrm... " He tapped his chin with the device, "what color? Also, when and why did you take the name 'Grimalkin'? If I remember my French history correctly, that was the name of Nostradamus' cat, as well as a term used in MacBeth to refer either to one of the Old Crones' familiars... or to one of the Crones herself."

The shapeshifter raised an eyebrow at the tricorder, but offered no comment on it. "Uh, I was a small gray cat, y’know, regular house cat size. When I asked the faeries why I was a cat, they said, 'You are a cat because you've always been a cat. Here in Faerie, all is truth and no one lies.' Which I’m fairly sure is pure BS, at least for the human point of view on truth and lies. As far as the name goes, yeah, I first read it in Macbeth freshman year, then I saw it again in House of the Seven Gables. I spell it the way Hawthorne spelled it, not the old English way." She smiled. “I just liked that it had 'Grim 'in it, made it sound a little scarier somehow. And with the way my powers work and my pointy little ears, why not a witch's cat, right?â€

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"So you became a small gray cat because you had a name meaning 'small gray cat'," Archeville mused, "or you chose a name meaning 'small gray cat' because of assorted elements of your personality, which were reflected physically in that realm. An interesting cycle. I wonder what I would look like...?"

If I want in before The Event, I might have split into two! But now I am sure I would not! Oooh, maybe I would become a falcon, majestic and regal!

The Doktor quickly snapped back from his reverie, and aimed the scanner at her, which beeped and hummed and blinked. "So what did you do in Avalon? What and who did you see? Did you find out why they changed you?"

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"So what did you do in Avalon? What and who did you see? Did you find out why they changed you?"

The shapeshifter shrugged. "I did what you always do in a faerie tale; I had to complete three quests, each one harder than the last."

She began to tick off the quests on her fingertips.

"First I had to save a beautiful princess from an ogre. That one wasn't too hard, because he was an idiot; I just talked him into doing something stupid, basically."

Grim chuckled at the memory, then moved on.

"The second one was to help a mother find her baby, which the goblins had carried off from its crib and up the chimney; that was a bit more challenging." She shuddered. "Goblins are a lot more horrible than I would have guessed, especially fighting a pack of them."

And then she got very quiet for a few moments, her eyes downcast.

"The last quest…there was this old woman who lived in the forest, who seemed really sweet and kind, y’know? Like your favorite grandmother or great-aunt." She took a deep breath. "But she was really a witch, and not some silly Halloween costume kinda thing; I’m talking the full-on Baba Yaga, crooked-little-house-all-made-out-of-bones kind. She was terrifying. And there I was, just a little cat trapped in her house…â€

With great effort, she forced a smile.

“But I defeated her, and then I got my old body back and met the Queen of Summer, sitting on her golden throne; actually I’m pretty sure all the women I met there were really just her, using glamour to test me. And she told me about my bloodline, which has had fae blood in it for hundreds of years, and how her sister the Queen of Winter pulled my lifeless body out of that alley, and kindled the tiny little spark that remained into a big ol’ magical bonfire.â€

She shrugged.

“Still not quite sure why the Winter Queen did that; she and Summer don’t talk much, I guess.â€

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"Ah, so you still have no idea why you were saved and changed?," he asked while continuing to scan. "I certainly hope you are not a sleeper agent, like Atlas was!"

That would be terrible! Oh, I should check her family, see if they have any 'faerie' abilities!

The Doktor looked over the readings from his scanner, brow furrowing as he did -- because she did not read as a Metahuman.

"I believe you said once that your body is 'glamour,' is made of 'magical' energy, same as the items you create, and that it is equally under your mental control, yes? If this energy shared certain properties with electromagnetic energy," he glanced over at the blacksmith's forge, then back to Lynn, "that could explain why iron affects you so negatively.".

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"Ah, so you still have no idea why you were saved and changed?," he asked while continuing to scan. "I certainly hope you are not a sleeper agent, like Atlas was!"

Grim's eyes went wide and she instantly felt like she was going to vomit; the thought was horrific, unthinkable. And yet...

We never saw Atlas coming, either.

Her hands began to visibly shake, though she did her level best to hide them by tightly crossing her arms across her chest.

"I believe you said once that your body is 'glamour,' is made of 'magical' energy, same as the items you create, and that it is equally under your mental control, yes? If this energy shared certain properties with electromagnetic energy," he glanced over at the blacksmith's forge, then back to Lynn, "that could explain why iron affects you so negatively.".

When the shapeshifter spoke, her voice was tight with barely-restrained panic.

"Uh, yeah, well, I'm just goin' on a few theories there, y'know, stuff I read, stuff Colby suggested to to me. I've never put any of this stuff to the test." Her eyes locked onto the forge, and pinpricks of sweat popped out of her forehead. "Do you think that's possible, that I'm a, I'm a sleeper? Is there any way I could even tell? I've experienced, whaddya call it, 'lost time', like on the X-Files."

Finally her voice cracked with near-hysteria as her body was racked with sobs.

"Is that when they did it? Is that when they killed me?" :cry:

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Oh noes! My offhand joke -- which in hindsight was a really poor choice and far too soon -- has caused sadness and grief!

Archeville dropped the scanner and ran to Lynn's side, "oh... oh, I am sorry! I am so sorry!" He put his arms around her shoulders, "I... that is... well, I do not know! But surely there is some way to find out, yes? I mean... ahh..." His mind raced through what little he knew of faerie lore, "the tales are full of children being abducted by faeries, replaced by changelings; surely there is some way to tell the difference, and if these Summer and Winter Courts are so different, perhaps there are way to tell a Summer fae from a Winter fae. Who might know that?"

Taylor would be ideal for this... if only she would return my calls!
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"oh... oh, I am sorry! I am so sorry!" He put his arms around her shoulders, "I... that is... well, I do not know! But surely there is some way to find out, yes? I mean... ahh..." His mind raced through what little he knew of faerie lore, "the tales are full of children being abducted by faeries, replaced by changelings; surely there is some way to tell the difference, and if these Summer and Winter Courts are so different, perhaps there are way to tell a Summer fae from a Winter fae. Who might know that?"

Grim shook her head vigorously; she was still shaking, but Dok's touch did seem to calm her somewhat.

"No, it's not that; I mean, I know I'm aligned with the Winter Court just from how my powers work, but am I still even me? My mortal remains are ash and dust, I know that, but part of me, the human me, survived...unless they all lied to me. Unless I'm some kind of ****ing Trojan horse like poor Atlas."

The tiny shapeshifter took a deep breath and began to repeat the Sh'ma under her breath, like a mantra.

"Sh'ma Yisrael: Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad. Sh'ma Yisrael: Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad. Sh'ma Yisrael: Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad..."*

The repeated prayer brought an end to her trembling, and then she just held on to the man of science as her breathing slowly became more even. Her voice was filled with firm resolve.

"It's okay; I'm still me. Don't ask me how I know, I just...know it."

*"Listen, Israel: The Eternal is our God, the Eternal is One."

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I am sure Samael knew he was him, but- wait. Maybe I should not say that.

Archeville was silent as she prayed, both out of respect and an awareness of the hypocrisy (if not blasphemy) of him uttering those words. When she calmed down somewhat, he spoke up, "do you have any leads on anyone who might be able to tell? You said the Winter Queen did not talk much with the Summer Queen, but what about the rest of the Winter Court? If their is anything like feudal European courts, surely there would be someone who would both know something and be willing to part with that information, for a certain price. Do you have any contacts there?" He tried to sound upbeat; it was the best idea he could come up with given what little he knew.

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"do you have any leads on anyone who might be able to tell? You said the Winter Queen did not talk much with the Summer Queen, but what about the rest of the Winter Court? If their is anything like feudal European courts, surely there would be someone who would both know something and be willing to part with that information, for a certain price. Do you have any contacts there?"

Lynn slowly shook her head. "Other than the Queen of Summer, no; the people and creatures I met there...I think it was more like a play or puppet show, y'know? I don't think any of it was 'real', at least not by our standards." She vigorously rubbed her face with both hands. "Gah! Okay, enough about that stuff; we can work on that angle another day. Plus Taylor doesn’t like it when I cross over; I guess it’s bad for the veil or something."

She nervously eyed the forge again.

"Look, you were talking about electromagnetic stuff and the nature of glamour; is there some sort of...iron test you wanted to perform? Because if so, I'm gonna need more booze. Like, a lot more."

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So this 'Queen of Summer' is a powerful extradimensional being, and drew her into a very complex illusion? Innnteresting...

Archeville nodded, "yes, though we will go slow. First I would like to see how you do simply in proximity to various grades of iron and other metals. If it is a magnetic field interaction that is the cause behind the 'faerie' weakness to iron, then other feromagnetic materials -- like nickel, cobalt, gadolinium, and neodymium -- should have similar effects."

The Doktor flitted from cabinet to cabinet around the laboratory, fetching assorted jars and boxes, and piled them all a few feet behind the large anvil. He then took a small iron rod from off the anvil, and slowly brought it closer to Lynn. "Please let me know as soon as you feel any discomfort, and what exactly you are feeling."

I hope this does not hurt her too badly!
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"yes, though we will go slow. First I would like to see how you do simply in proximity to various grades of iron and other metals. If it is a magnetic field interaction that is the cause behind the 'faerie' weakness to iron, then other feromagnetic materials -- like nickel, cobalt, gadolinium, and neodymium -- should have similar effects."

Lying on her back on the examination table, Lynn's eyes never left her employer, tracking his every movement around the lab as he described the test.

"Uh, okay; I mean, I've never had any trouble with steel, just, y'know, mostly old buildings, the occasional horseshoe, Ren faires..."

"Please let me know as soon as you feel any discomfort, and what exactly you are feeling."

Her breath rate began to increase as the small iron rod was brought closer and closer to the changeling.

"Okay, okay, uh, little bit of a panic attack, but no pain or anything...slight nausea, but I guess that could just be psychological..."

As the rod got closer to her body, the fabric nearest the rod melted away into vapor, exposing the soft pale skin of her right arm. The very instant the rod touched her skin, Grim howled in agony as the tissue seemed to dissolve like plastic splashed with acetone, leaving a wisp of vapor that smelled like a mixture of burnt flesh and smoldering leaves.

"Ahhhh, God, stop, please stop!!"

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Careful... caaaareful... sloooowly.... hunh, that is interesting... caaareful... oh, shoot, shoot, crud, shoot, shoot!!!

Archeville had been very slow in his approach, noting her reactions to the iron rod. His eyebrows shot up when he saw it made her clothing dissipate; when he made contact, he immediately flung the rod behind him. "Oh, I am sorry, I am so sorry, are you okay?"

He very carefully examined the wound, and gave a cursory look over the equally raw edges of the dissolved fabric. "How is the pain? Is it better now that the iron is gone?"

She never heard the clang of the iron rod landing after he tossed it. Where had it gone? If she weren't in such pain, she might see the small blue-and-gold robotic beetle off in the distance, which had caught the rod and was carrying it to a work station several dozen feet away. (A similar 'bot had caught the sensor widget Dok had dropped earlier, and set it neatly on the table beside Lynn.)

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"Oh, I am sorry, I am so sorry, are you okay?"

Lynn sat up on the table, clutching her arm and sucking air in between her clenched teeth; the whole sleeve dissolved away, and in fact her clothes shifted into a loose hospital gown that read ‘Property of the Viktor Archeville School of Mad Science’. It seemed at least her sense of humor was intact ;)

"How is the pain? Is it better now that the iron is gone?"

“Yeah, yeah, it’d better now; oooh, that stings like the dickens!†She peered down at her injury; the skin was bright pink at the point of contact, which looked closest to a severe acid burn, though the comparison was not 100% exact. “Okay, if you need to take any pictures or readings or anything, can you do that real quick so we can get something on this?â€

Her face was still cloudy with pain as she changed the subject. “So getting back to the story, when I came back from Avalon, my powers were all wonky; I could change into the mythological beasties I encountered over there, which was a whole new thing. Also I was given a silver bottle with a tag that literally said ‘drink me’, like right out of Alice in Wonderland.†She shook her head at the silliness of her tale. “The Queen told me to seek out Damien Silver’s shop and take the bottle to him. You ever been there? It’s in Lantern Hill. Very cool place, actually.â€

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Burned flesh and smoldering leaves smell... must compare gene readings to those of Dryad and Fleur. Must obtain gene-readings of Fleur first.

Archeville smirked at the sight of the gown, "I believe the German -- Eigentum der Universität der Viktor Archeville der Wissenschaft Verrückt -- would be more fitting."

Archeville held his hand out, and the blue-and-gold beetle -- similar to the ones she had seen at Scarab's Lair (fitting, since Archeville had worked on them), but more cockroach-like than scarab-like -- passed the scanner he had assembled back to him, which he used to scan the wound. And once again his brows knitted as he tried making heads or tails of the results.

"Had you not tried to turn into mythological beasts before your trip? Have you tried turning into mythological beasts that you did not encounter there?"

It seems like she should be able to, if her metamorphic capabilities are limited solely by her imagination.

"Damien Silver? No, I cannot say that name sounds familiar," he admitted. "I do not go over to the Lantern Hill area much, though I stay mostly in Hanover or the City Center. Was that delivery the only mission you were tasked with?"

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"Had you not tried to turn into mythological beasts before your trip? Have you tried turning into mythological beasts that you did not encounter there?"

She shrugged, which brought on a minor wince. "I'd tried in the past to take on non-human or at least human-like forms, and always failed, which to be honest pissed me off; little Vicky Atom could do it, but I couldn't? Didn't seem fair somehow."

She sighed and adjusted herself slightly on the table, peering curiously at Dok's scanner from time to time.

“But somehow when I came back from Avalon, it was like suddenly I had this itch I couldn't scratch, or like...a thought nagging at the back of my mind, or a word on the tip of my tongue. I just knew I could do it, and then I did it.â€

She sighed and shook her head sadly.

“Makes no sense, I know, but magic rarely does, at least not in a rational logical way. And no, no luck with mermaids or anything else I tried, though to be honest I didn’t really push myself too hard at the time.â€

"Damien Silver? No, I cannot say that name sounds familiar," he admitted. "I do not go over to the Lantern Hill area much, though I stay mostly in Hanover or the City Center. Was that delivery the only mission you were tasked with?"

At this, Lynn laughed out loud. “Oh man, that was the craziest night of my life!†She stopped and looked thoughtful. “Well, top five at least; I’ve had some pretty crazy nights over the years.â€

She sat up so she could better see the German uber-genius as she continued.

“So I go meet this Silver guy, who the Queen sort of hinted might know something of my bloodline, which is actually called the Line of Silver, y'know, which kinda makes sense.†She rapped her knuckles firmly against the examining table. “Guess what? Dude frickin' started the line; he’s like thousands of years old, and some kind of faerie lord himself!†Her laugh seemed to indicate she still didn’t quite believe it. “Some crazy ****, huh? Coulda knocked me over with a feather.â€

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"Innnnteresting," he said, though she was not sure if that was directed at her various shapeshifting difficulties, or at what his scanner was telling him.

These are fascinating readings! And they support some of my hypotheses!

Her talk of Silver brought his attention fully back to her, "so you had to deliver something to one of your ancestors? Hunh... has anyone else in your family ever evidenced 'supernatural' abilities? Wait -- why would the Queen of Summer be sending him something... unless... " Archeville's eyes lit up, "unless he was also Faerie Royalty... which means you would be, too!"

Colt could be in for a huge dowry!

"And speaking of silver," he said, looking back towards the assortment of metal samples on the distant table, "are you up for some more tests? Your arm looks almost completely healed!"

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