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Paris by Moonlight (IC)


Supercape

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Marceau nodded emphatically, and after listening to the chant, repeated it with exacting diction. He had little idea what the words meant, but he guessed that as long as they were spoken, the demon would be at least one step closer to being sealed away. "Ostium clauditur ostium clausum est, Adaperire Adaperire!" he recited, hoping you didn't need to know what magic words meant, so long as you said them right. As he was largely in the dark about this whole issue(a sore spot for him that he doubted would be assuaged by getting rid of Gallu) he saw Frederick's distress almost immediately. Clapping him on the shoulder he murmured <"Be strong Frederick. Soon this will all be finished, and you will have more ahead of you then ever was before!">

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GM

As the words were spoken, all could feel a force in the room, a malign presence, neither hot nor cold, but both at once. Something terrible.

The room started filling with an ethereal mist, that clawed at the throat like some poison, and assaulted the nostrils with a sickly sweet smell. Like putrification. Marcel collapsed to the floor, followed by Frederick. Marcel hoisted the German man up, and supported him.

"You must continue! continue!" he said, as Rene closed his eyes, and (ever the pragmatist) pinched his nose, continuing the chant.

From the other room came a horrible crashing sound, and Frederick looked over, panic in his eyes.

Covered in the same bloodied tarpaulin, the corpse that they had stored was lurching towards the group...

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Marceau had gagged and quickly followed Rene's lead on countering the oral and nasal assault, chanting the sentence as best he could, and would have laughed aloud at how silly they all sounded if he wasn't fervently repeating the phrase that would mean their eternal rescue from the demon bull at the time. Despite that, he felt himself getting much weaker at a truly dangerous pace, and it was with no little fury and dismay that he saw the approaching corpse.

While through gritted teeth he continued the spell, he grabbed a pair of bolas from the bag of them he'd brought along and threw it furiously at the thing's arms and legs, hoping he could stop Gallu from abusing the dead in such a fashion, at least until Rene and Marcel were available to exorcise the unfortunate's remains.

It was a residual hope of his that he could at least find out who she had been before death and bring her body back to whatever family and friends she might have had for proper burial.

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GM

The Corpse was already somewhat impeded by the tarpaulin that slowly fell of its rotting body. It was in bad condition by now, and smelled as terrible as it looked. The same red mist escaped from its open mouth. The stigmata of Gallu.

"You will never send me back now I am in this world!" came the rasping voice, from the unmoving, slack jaw.

Frederick crumpled in fear as the thing lurched forward only to be ensnared by the bolo's of the King of Suit's. Its hands reached down and started to unpluck the string - the corpse had horrible strength but its fingers were clumsy.

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Marceau glared at the possessed corpse with a sickening feeling of impotence. All he could do was just tangle it up in wires and weights to keep it busy, he had no way at all of really huring the spirit inside, and had no intention of harming the body if he could help it. With a grunt of illness-influenced anger he added a few yards more of line to the web the monster was in, wondering if he could possibly go looking for some kind of anti-spirit weapons. As it was he could at least keep Gallu from doing much with its hosts, he admitted to himself. <And it's not like I was unable to do anything with that, I led the Hands on a merry chase and tied them in knots for those SWAT gentlemen, I bested that fly-spewing old woman at the meat shop, and I'm keeping the beast from disrupting the ritual, why do i still feel like that isn't enough?> he pondered as he watched and listened like a hawk for any sounds of invasion <Why do I feel like I need to always have every tool for every occasion on hand? Something like this is so unlikely to happen! I fight gangsters, drug lords, human foes who my arsenal does more than enough to finish off. But still...> "Ostium clauditur ostium clausum est, Adaperire Adaperire!" he chanted, the horrid feeling of sickness nagging at him.

He wished he had a demon-ejector card.

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GM

The Animated corpse fell like a log to the floor, completely wrapped up. It was strong - strong enough to snap the cords that bound it if it had time. But time was what Gallu was running out of. A horrible scream soared from its mouth as the chant grew stronger.

Marcel stepped in, his trusty cudgel in his hand.

"I've dealt with enough zombies, skulls, and corpses in my time to take care of a thing like you..." he said, with a quiet confidence, before hefting his weapon and bringing it down squarely on the corpses cranium, dislodging its jaw completely with a horrible crunching sound.

"nnnooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOO!" came the long and horrible scream as the corpse writhed.

"It's weakening!" said Marcel "It's going back! back!!!" he smiled, taking up the chant once more.

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Marceau winced at the sound of breaking bone and tearing remnants of sinew. He wasn't adverse to attacking corpses(the vampires he had hunted in Latveria could testify to that), he still was startled by the reminder that Gallu possessing something didn't make it far even tougher than it did. The statues had taught him about overestimating the demon's abilities, but still...

With a shake of his head he quickly switched to mental subjects that didn't make his eyes well up, and continued with the chanting to the end. He placed a hand on Frederick's shoulder to lend some support, watching the corpse out of the corner of his eye until the ritual was done all the while. He didn't expect Gallu to have any more tricks up his sleeve, but the words of warning still rang in his head nonetheless.

He looked at Marcel and nodded in thanks for his subduing of the dead body. "Ostium clauditur ostium clausum est, Adaperire Adaperire!" he recited faithfully, determined to ask the full meaning and origin of the phrase as soon as their work was done.

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(GM)

There was something in the air, indicating that the presence of Gallu was receding, weakening. He had been pushed back through the door he had opened, and the door was closing. Even the sickening mist seemed to recede.

The chant continued, however.

"It's mine!" broke out Frederick, stopping the chant with glazed eyes, and snatching the medallion.

"It's mine!" he repeated, holding it to the air and laughing. "All mine! Gallu is gone, and the medallion is mine! power, freedom! freedom to live like a king, to show those fools who is the real master! hahahaha!"

Whilst Gallu was indeed crowbarred back into his dimension, Marceaux could not help hear the faint sound of bullish laughter, somehow...

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"It's mine!" broke out Frederick, stopping the chant with glazed eyes, and snatching the medallion.

"It's mine!" he repeated, holding it to the air and laughing. "All mine! Gallu is gone, and the medallion is mine! power, freedom! freedom to live like a king, to show those fools who is the real master! hahahaha!"

NO Thought the King of Suits with a sudden descent of red wrath over his eyes.

NO, NO, NO he thought desperately as he grabbed a boomerang and threw it with perfect accuracy at Frederick's hand, barking aloud <"I will not allow it! You will NOT destroy all this time and effort in a moment of greed!"> dashing forward he snatched it from the ground and, grabbing a knife from a nearby table, nailed it to the floor. <"The power will come, Frederick, in TIME"> he snapped <"Sudden influxes and artifacts that let you bypass the real work of magic are all well and good, but they have nothing on achieving that same command by your OWN merits!"> glowering at Klinefelter he added dourly <"Besides, how long do you think you could have used it before Gallu was loosed again? You have a great deal to learn before you should use magic in any form Frederick, it would be terribly dangerous for you">

He gave the chant a few rounds, just in case

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GM

"Anything is better than this!" yelled back Frederick as the boomerang hit his hand and knocked the amulet to the floor.

He cried again, a moan of pure anguish. Before pointing a finger at the King of Suits.

"I'll never forgive you! never! you, who had everything, would deny me that same power! condemn me to a life of taunts and mockery! if you really cared, you would not stand in my way!!!"

He spat the words with venom.

"With Gallu gone, the amulet is all mine! I can feel it, even now...calling! calling!!!!"

As he spoke the amulet did indeed glow with an unearthly, misty, and ethereal light, both white and dark red at once. The light span and tumbled through the air like oil in water, floating through the enraged Frederick.

"Now! Now! I will unleash the full force of the amulet, unconstrained by you or even Gallu! hahahaha!"

But it was too late for either Gallu or Frederick. The door was closed, thanks to the ritual. But Gallu would not lightly loose his key to the mortal world, nor Frederick relinquish the doorway that he had opened and then closed.

A thundering of hooves was heard, louder, louder, until it was almost unbearable. Then, in a moment, a giant ghostly white bull rode spectrally through the house, moving unhindered through bricks, mortar, and furniture. It even passed through the King of Suits, sending him a chill down his spine that he would not have believed possible.

The bull's face, of pure malice, roared as it hit Frederick, sending him spinning and convulsing, caught up with the ghostly form of Gallu. Then, without losing momentum, the two roared off down into the ground. All had a sense of dark red mist and wild chasms beneath them, and then...it was gone.

The doorway was closed. And with it, Frederick.

All that was left was a dull metal amulet, lifeless, on the floor.

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In the quiet moments that followed the outburst from Frederick and his acquisition by Gallu, Marceau stared in horror at the now-dead amulet on the floor.

He had no malice towards Frederick, and was horrified by his apparent fate, which he understood intellectually as justice. For all that he pitied the man, Frederick HAD summoned a demon that had killed at least three people and captured their souls, it was fitting that the catalyst of their misery be granted the same punishment.

For all that Marceau wasn't what one would describe as vindictive, he had to admit he couldn't think of a more effective warning against the summoning of demons than by inflicting the same thing on the summoner as on the demon's other victims. He wondered glumly if Frederick had sold his soul to Gallu in order to awaken the amulet's power...

All that he left unsaid, remarking only after the shock of the moment had passed <"...Someone will need to tell his family too"> he gave a weary sigh and said to Rene <"What a mess this turned out to be my friend. I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more, but at least"> he acknowledged <"the demon no longer stalks this city. I will do my best to locate the family of the abducted Mr. Klinefelter and I'll bring the body of the woman to the closest morgue for potential identification"> he shook his head as he went to unwrap the corpse, muttering <"What a mess...">

After painstakingly repairing the body to its earlier state wrapped in the tarpaulin, he looked at the two Halbediers and bowed slightly <"It has been a pleasure, gentlemen, to assist you in this. I am deeply regretful a more..positive outcome could not be reached. If ever you require aid I am sure the local House will be glad to help in battling the occult forces we are usually unaware of">

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Rene sat down, quite exhausted. Marcel looked rather pumped up. Knocking down zombies and undead was his business.

"Well, it seems we have solved the murders. Too late for those poor souls..." he added, looking at the corpse "...but soon enough to stop the streets of Paris littered with more" he finished, a bittersweet smile on his face. The man had seen to much death in his life. He was sure he would see more.

"I trust the Halbediers can see the departed to proper rest, and proper mourning to their families?" he asked Marcel, who nodded. "We have somebody in the police who is most helpful in such matters" he added.

Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a slightly crumpled photograph of Freedom City Park. With his other hand, he brought out his mystic paintbrush.

"Ready to go home?" he asked Marceau.

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"No, mon ami" Marceau said firmly "I have not done what needs to be done. I must do what I can before I go to inform Mr. Klinefelter's family of his..departure" he winced even at that term, the violent memory still fresh "Give me a little more time, a week at most, I shall contact any immediate relatives of Frederick I can find, and alert the House to keep a closer watch on potential mystical artifacts. Also I'd like to form a partnership with the Halbediers and the House, if you don't mind. A collaboration with our respective groups could do a lot of good and prevent a significant evil"

Rising from his seat he made some fussing adjustments to the cover of the body. "It shouldn't take more than a few days, at most" he looked back to Rene "Deal?"

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GM

Rene nodded and shook his hand.

"Deal" he replied.

And so it was that Marceau had the unfortunate task of speaking to the Klinefelter family. In the meantime, the House and the Halbediers dined out, and shook hands. The Halbediers were not an "organisation" in the sense of being organised, they were more of a club. A group of individuals who swore a common oath and knew of each other. But a group that nevertheless appreciated the help of others, including Marceau.

"I guess that means you are one of us now!" said Marcel, slapping the King of Suit's back.

"Don't worry, there is no ritual or anything. Just a salute with a bottle of wine!" he smiled, pouring the King of Suits a very good bottle of old Claret.

"About the only perk of the job. Access to some of the finest cellars in the world!" he smiled "donated to us by one of the Halbediers a decade ago. We are, I confess, running through the supplies a little to fast!"

Meanwhile the Amulet was placed under lock, key, and several protective wards with the Halbediers. Maybe one day they could unlock its secrets, or even destroy it. But first, they had to understand it.

And thus, in a near forgotten room, underground, out of sight, with walls of stone and door of Iron, it lay, untouched, and safe. On a dais of granite etched with chalked wards.

Silent.

Safe.

But for a whisper. A pale whisper of Frederick Klinefelter, in the ether of the room.

"I'll be back...."

~ Fin ~

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