Dead Good (IC)

[trollthumper]

Eric looked around to the rest of the audience. He had to admit, even he was starting to feel cold now... truly cold...

"Guess we know what the idol does," he said. "It... fatigues... drains attention and will..."

He kicked back on his chair as he drew on his connection to Tartarus. As it fell, the shadows rose around him, giving him enough time to duck into a backdoor in the Underworld where his costume remained unperturbed. By the time the shadows cleared and the clatter vanished, Nick Cimitiere was there, fully costumed and ready for battle.

"Mind you, it does a really crappy job if you know what it's doing..."

[Supercape]

The crowd looked at Nick dressed in his garb in a surprised way, but remained motionless, as if overwhelmed with apathy. Dr. Singh was did not appear to move a muscle in his face, his features quite unremarkable.

"Well sir, have you come for the lecture, please do take a seat, and I will continue" he asked politely, as if nothing had happened.

What was this? thought Rene to himself. He had seen some odd personalities in his time, but this was something new. The man was out of sorts for certain, no normal person would act like that, but he could not put his finger on what was wrong with him. Drugged? Possessed? Mad?

His gaze was drawn back to the ominous black sheen of the idol of Kali. Somehow, that well of souls must hold the key!

[trollthumper]

Nick had expected a few things in the face of his change -- swearing, yelling, mad boasts, the usual -- but he hadn't expected such sangfroid and academic demeanor.

I think I like it better when there's megalomaniacal ranting. He drew in his will, focusing it towards the statue. In his mind, a blade rimed with salt sliced through invisible strands of power surrounding the statue, cutting its power. Let's see if we can get some of that...

[Supercape]

Rene looked down at his necro-compass and saw it spinning wildly. Whatever Nick was doing, it was turning the necromantic energies haywire, making them spin this way and that. However, despite furious oscilliation, the bone needle still came to rest at the ominous idol, and somehow Rene knew that it had survived Nick's onslaught.

Dr. Singh put his hand on the idol, and gave Nick a tired stare. "You don't understand what resides in here, son. It's so restful in here... come, see..."

At that tired, hollow speech, the audience gave out a collected sigh and started to slump to their seats, their eyes glazed and their skin waxy. It was as if someone had cut the strings between their mind and their body, and whilst they didn't keel over, it was only primitive spinal reflexes that ensured their stability.

[trollthumper]

Nick looked over to the captive audience, now captive in more ways than one. All right, so the necrotic mojo's stronger than I expected, he thought. I wonder what happens if you overload it...

He drew on the essence of entropy, the state of decay that comes to all things, and the smoke of a funeral pyre. He crafted these things together in his mind and sent them outwards towards the idol. He could feel his will grasping at the cold and hungry statue, trying to elide away its base molecules and find a crack to exploit.

[Supercape]

Nick started to draw on arcane powers that Rene was only dimly aware of, and he watched in admiration, and some caution. He never trusted necromancy, but he was damned glad that someone like Nick was the gatekeeper for those kind of forces. He risked another glance at his makeshift compass, and saw the bone crystal shudder and die.

Glancing upwards, he saw the arcane forces seep into the idol and penetrate it. To his mind's eye, it was all destruction, decay, and death. And then... it was gone.

The idol fell apart, as if weathered by a thousand decades in one second. Only black dust remained, and the screaming of a hundred freed souls filled the air.

"Zut Alor!" he exclaimed "What is happening! the spirits are freed!"

Slowly the audience seem to arise from their horrible slumber. But they appeared confused and shocked.

"Alive again!"

"What an old body! but any will do!"

"No space here, find you own!"

[trollthumper]

Nick looked on the growing disaster with despair. Damnit, I should've known these sort of things happen. Not every necromantic battery draws power straight from the void; some make their own juice.

He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he proclaimed to the gathered spirits, "if we could all settle down, we can clear up the matter of whom belongs where."

[Supercape]

"Zut Alors!" exclaimed Rene. He was no expert, but it was pretty clear what had happened. Wrong bodies for wrong souls.

The people where muttering, some confused, some note. One young man yelled, in Spanish "" before running at full speed out on to the street.

Another middle aged man started throwing his fists at a young lady, muttering, in French ""

And an elderly lady stared around, before pointing at Nick and screaming "Sorcerer! Kill him!" with a bony finger pointed at the hero.

"More souls than bodies, I think..." said Rene, remarking on a middle aged lady who seemed to be fighting with herself, with two voices saying "Get out! I was here first" between punching and strangling herself.

[trollthumper]

Nick took one look around the gathered ghosts and realized that wasn't going to be a simple matter. But he couldn't exactly abandon diplomacy just yet...

He took to the stage, pushing Singh away from the podium, and spoke into the microphone. "If you'll excuse me," he said, "the only thing you're doing right now is causing turmoil. You're not finding peace -- you're not even finding your own bodies. I know you've spent a long time confined, but the last thing we need is more chaos. If we can all just settle down -- and stop trying to claim the first warm body right away -- we can all work this out. All right?"

[Supercape]

The crowd indeed seem to calm down, although several muttered "I'm not letting go of this body" phrases could be heard at various volumes.

The Spaniard had already fled, and the elderly lady was still screaming about foul sorcery, but the other members of the audience fell into some type of order, recognising that panic and pandimonium would not help.

Rene scratched his head and walked up to Nick. "So, there seems to be a slight problem here. More souls than bodies, oui? and the collar is not always matching the cuffs, I guess. From the sounds of it, some of these people had been captured centuries ago, and will have no body to go back too..."

He shook his head at the terrible situation. "...Is there a way out of this?"

[trollthumper]

"If we stuff some of these guys back in their bodies, we're going to have a zombie thing," Nick said, "if the bodies are still here. And that might fall under the area of resurrection which, in addition to being really powerful magic, would really put me out of favor with a lot of the major death gods." He thought on it. "We could try convincing them to move on, but words alone don't do it. Summoning a psychopomp, however..."

[Supercape]

"Psychopomp, hmmm?" mused Rene. He was no expert, of course, but he knew the principle. Could Nick really do that? if he could, he really did deserve his reputation - and more besides. Rene thought of himself more of a generalist in the ways of the arcane, having been round long enough to see most shades of sorcery. Of course, he had his own peculiar style of magic, through artistic medium, but he had to tip his hat to Nick, the true specialist.

"Well, Monsieur, that would seem a very prudent solution. I have never performed such a feat before, and it has been some time since I have read on such matters. And yourself? Its not a task for the weak of heart, although I doubt not that your heart is strong, given your peculiar talents..."

[trollthumper]

"It's possible," Nick said. "I just haven't done something like this in a while. Let's see... I still owe Baron Cimitiere a big favor, the valkyries won't take the ones who didn't die in combat, Anubis might bring Ammut along with him and then that would get messy..." He paused. "Our best bets might be Papa Ghede or Azrael. Non-judgmental, somewhat courteous -- Ghede knows the crossroads, so he could figure out where they'd all go, while Azrael knows the details of all who will live and die, so he can help in that department, too. It'll probably take a lot out of me just to summon one, though..."

[Supercape]

"A psychopomp?" asked Rene "good Idea, although it is beyond my experience in dealing with such entities. To be honest, my dealing with the way of ze necromancer have been, 'ow shall we say... less than favourable."

He looked around the room with more than eyes. The picture in his mind was of a storm of souls, a chaotic maelstrom. It didn't look pretty. It looked, quite frankly, insane, and he didn't want to look at it for long.

"There is also ze matter of the escaped one. Italian maybe, or Roman. But first things first. Before a riot breaks out here..."

[trollthumper]

Constructing the veve was easy enough -- he carried around a red marker in his jacket, the kind used to highlight highways and other stops on old road maps. The offering took a bit more time. He had the base material -- a Thomas Guide from the Pale Horse's glove compartment -- but it could easily be too little to offer up to the watcher of the crossroads. So, he went through the book and dotted every major crossroads on a miniature map of Freedom City, and turned the Guide open to the page. With that, he was ready.

"O great Papa Ghede," he intoned, "man of where all roads meet and watcher of all souls, the man who points to the hidden road to Guinee. Your children wait for you. They are lost and do not know the way home. We seek your guidance and a hand down the road."

[Supercape]

Rene no longer fully trusted his failing eyesight. And would have barely trusted the image of the short dark man who appeared before him, despite his long experience with the strange and wonderful. Of course, in his mind's eye, the man appeared crystal clear and hyper-real, all swirling razor sharp clouds of white and black, screaming of wisdom beyond the ken of mortal men.

"That's new..." he remarked. From what he recalled, Papa Ghede was a benign spirit - although he was not so foolish as to be relaxed about this procedure. In his experience, few spirits or souls took particularly kindly to being summoned.

[trollthumper]

As the invocation ended, Papa Ghede was there. Clad in a white suit shot through with streaks of grave dirt, he seemed to bend the space around him, turning the center of the stately room into a mess of possible roads and passages. He bore a grin on his face that said he got the joke you never would. "Who calls upon Ghede?" he asked. "Who needs passage to the other lands?" He looked upon Nick's skulled countenance. "Reckon you got at least a few more years left. Unless you want to skip all the boring stuff."

"It's not for me, Ghede," Nick said, sweeping his arm across the room. "It's for these other souls. They have been separated from their bodies -- in many cases, they have no body to go home to. I know you know the ways behind the curtain of the world, and the roads to the many gates. I seek passage for these ladies and gentlemen -- to Heaven, to Guinee, to Svarga, to the Elysian Fields, to wherever they need to go."

Papa Ghede stroked his chin. "So many lost souls," he said, "seeking a way home... you know me well, child. But how can I ensure safety from the patrons of these other homes?"

"White flag of peace?" Nick said. "Or the divine equivalent. Most guardians of the gates will be glad to see that lost children have found their way home. That should probably be the hardest part; the ones with bodies likely won't be as difficult."

"Very well, then, child," Ghede said. "But as well you know me, I know you as well. My brother, whom lends you his name, seeks a favor from you in time. It may come that I will need you to do something as well." Ghede looked over to the tide of souls. "But for now... consider this an act of good brotherhood."

Space unfolded around Ghede, revealing a crossroads that stretched in all directions. "Come along, lords and ladies!" he called to the dead. "The good father shall lead you home!"

[Supercape]

Rene did not have Nick's supernatural senses, although he was well aware of the presence of deep and powerful magic around him. What he did see, and could extrapolate from, was the slumping of the bodies around him (aside from a few who had ended up with their souls in the correct body) and then, after an varying amount of time, those same bodies 'come round' with a huge expression of relief and, in more than a few cases, terror or confusion, on them.

"Well done, Monsieur Nick, Monsieur Ghede" he commented, with an arched eyebrow and a clap of his hands.

He looked over to Doctor Singh, who remained slumped. "And what have we here? one soul is perhaps not willing to come back, and wishes to depart early?"

[trollthumper]

Nick looked over to Doctor Singh. "Well, that's... not really how it's supposed to go, is it," he said. "I guess I could say this is karmic justice - 'Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Death God' and all that. But... I'd rather not let the guy who decided to turn on the death vacuum wander about unfettered. Just in case." With that, he touched Singh's prone body; after checking for a pulse, to ensure that the man was comatose from the soul separation and not merely some ghost's flesh puppet, he called upon the voice of the Fates for clues as to where Singh's soul had gone.

[Supercape]

Rene started to answer some of the crowds questions, blending obscurity, evasiveness and reassurance as well as he could manage. It worked well enough. Apparently a little bit of hypnotism, hysteria, and "I don't know but its all better now" was enough to stop a widespread panic, if not provide robust answers.

He came over to Nick after divesting himself of one of the more anxious ladies grasping hands, and peered at Singh. "How is he? Still alive? Physically and spiritually, I mean".

[trollthumper]

Nick latched onto the tide of history almost instantly, and the words surged out of his mouth, mixing a vocalized death rattle with Singh's own voice. "To seek moksha once more... release, release, release... the strings truly cut, the marionette empty..."

The voice cut out, and Nick shook his head. "Singh's gone," he said to Rene. "He fell into the statue some time ago, and whatever was empowering it was using him as a puppet. He must've been one of the souls who went with Ghede. The Fates said something about moksha; in Hinduism, that's the state of pure enlightenment where one is released from the cycle of reincarnation."

He looked back to the shattered idol. "Which raises an unsettling question; if there was something sentient in that statue besides the souls it captured, then where is it now?"

[Supercape]

"There was something Sentient controlling the statue. Whether it was the Statue, or was in the Statue... hmmm. I am not so sure..."

He looked over at Mr. Singh, and started ruffling around his pockets. "I think perhaps some detective work, of the more mundane variety, is in order. We should track where our friend here has been, and what he has been up to..."

[trollthumper]

Nick looked through Singh's belongings. The notes in the briefcase were relatively disorganized, and seemed to be studded with the academic equivalent of filler text rather than anything of meaning. His diary carried a mixture of automatic writing and the usual panicked scribblings of a possession victim, but didn't carry anything of significance. On the inside of the briefcase, however, was a ward that looked like it had been made by abrading grave dirt into the leather. And it looked very familiar to Nick...

"Looks like we've got some syncretism going on here," he said, showing the ward to Rene. "That's the veve of Kalfu, the loa of crossroads and dark sorcery. He's pretty much on the outs with most of the pantheon -- say what you will about Samedi, but he has his good aspects. Kalfu's the rough equivalent of Satan in voodoo. He's also known as Carrefour... sound familiar?"

[Supercape]

"Carrefour... Carrefour... yes, yes, I think I remember..." lied Rene.

He caught Nick's eye. The man was no fool, and neither was Rene. "...no...no...to be honest, my memory is hazy on ze matter, my friend. But it seems this Carrefour may behind the chaos of today then, non?"

He took off his beret, scratched his head, and promptly replaced his Beret. "In which case, we need to find Carrefour. And to do that, we need to trace the good Doctor Singh's movements, to see into his past, so to speak. It could be done, with the right ritual...."

[trollthumper]

"Let me try," Nick said. He grabbed the remnants of the destroyed statue, which felt like both dry ice and an overheated engine at the same time. It was hard to hold on to, but it was enough to establish a sympathetic connection.

"Find the lady... rum is the drink the dead like best... an empty coffin in the shape of gold... dead, dead, dead, good, good, good..."

He withdrew his hand the second the oracle was done speaking. "That was a bit more vivid than usual," Nick said. "I think Singh left a final 'screw you' for Kalfu. Anyway, it was a switch. Kalfu offered Singh an actual artifact, but gave him the booby-trapped one instead, which allowed him to do all this. Trade went down at a bar roughly outside Freedom. Up for a road trip?"