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Wood and Clay Will Wash Away... [IC]


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Eliza smiled, glad to hear her teacher cut through all the crap. "That's what I keep telling myself," she said. "Good to know it's true. And I am gonna try, you know? I've got to. I mean, I've got all of this. Why not use it for something good?"

She looked out the window to the streets of Lincoln - still torn up, still bearing scars from the actions of Rant and Rave. Frowning, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, checking the time. "That's weird... you get so used to seeing Doctor Metropolis show up whenever one of these things goes down. Not like he does it in person, but there's always some time you seeing a hydrant seal itself or something like that. Strange that it's still busted..."

Something in the corner of her eye drew Eliza's attention - a figure, leaping up the walls of a shadowed alley, climbing to the roofs above. She might have been dreaming, but she swore she saw... feathers. "One second," she said to Wail, tearing out of the coffee shop and taking to the sidewalk. She wasn't seeing things - the figure was thin, emaciated, and most definitely avian. And there was that strange sheen to its skin - it was "backstage," the place where spirits moved unseen by the eyes of mortals. It scanned the street below, its head darting back and forth - and its eyes finally fell on Eliza, recognizing something in the girl. It let out a piercing caw, as if to defend its territory- and as it did, the damaged bit of roof it was standing on crumpled entirely, sending a rain of bricks to the thankfully-empty sidewalk below. It leapt back, wings spread wide, staring down Eliza.

"All right," she said. "Stay cool, birdy. Ain't gonna give you a fight if you're not gonna give me one..."

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It hadn't really occurred to LaMarr that the continued damage to the street was odd; unlike Eliza, Dr. Metropolis hadn't been a simple fact of life in Freedom since before he was born. Once the teenager had pointed it out, however, it did raise some concerns. Those concerns were quickly pushed out of the way as Temperance abruptly ran out of the shop. "What-- Girl, you don't go running off half-cocked, for... Hnh." Extricating himself from the table with a little more care, he followed her outside in time to hear her address the empty air. "Now, you're sure you're not taking any drug, you said?"

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Eliza suddenly realized just how weird it must have looked to Mr. LaMarr - here she was, running after something only she could see, trying to call it down so she could get some info on it, perhaps in a percussive fashion. She sighed; she'd come this far in explaining herself. She might as well take the next step.

"It's not what it looks like," she said. "Look, I told you this stuff was an inheritance matter. I guess I should have said how. My dad is..." She reached for the right words, knowing just how unbelievable they might sound. "...he's a spirit. Orisha, kami, whatever word you want to use for it. He deals in invisible things -- and I've been able to see 'em for a long time. Longer than I've been able to move water."

She pointed to the ruined perch where the crow-man stood. It stared at her with interest, like a sparrow watching a worm dance out of the ground. "I know you can't see it, but there's something standing up there. Look at the bricks; they're crumbling under its feet. I've never seen one of these before... but my dad's told me stories about 'em. They're called Carrion Crows. They're spirits of decay, and they're always hungry. If they're in town, that can't be good."

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LaMarr's eyebrows rose just over the edges of his sunglasses as he listened to Eliza's explanation. He didn't doubt what she said about her father; he's heard and seen stranger in his day. Magic and mysticism weren't his areas of expertise by any stretch of the imagination but he's dealt with enough juju, good and bad, to know it was as real as it was strange. Invisible crow demons were a little harder to swallow, but if he squinted he was pretty sure he could make out the crumbling bricks his student was trying to point out. "Alright, so you can seem 'em and you know they're bad news. What's your plan?"

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Eliza breathed a sigh of relief; it wasn't like she'd been expecting her teacher to point the finger at her and scream that she was a witch, but even in a town like Freedom, people were skeptical about the invisible. If you didn't know your crowd, reaction to saying that kind of thing could range from people thinking there was something wrong with you, to thinking you were something wrong.

"I... well, I really don't know," she said. "I've heard talk about Carrion Crows, but it's more the way every kid hears talk about the guy in the white van with the candy. Just 'cause you know they're out there and they ain't good doesn't mean you know all about how they operate. I mean, I'm guessing they've got a nest of some sort, given the whole bird thing..." She stroked her chin. "But you know what would help?"

An icicle flew out across the street towards the Crow, pointed like a dagger. The Crow jerked to avoid it, but the effort in doing so knocked him out of his subliminal state. Suddenly, Keith could see the ragged bird-man stumbling on the roof.

"Making them show up to answer questions."

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"Now that's something you don't see every day," Wail commented with genuine surprise, a rare thing for the experienced hero. Part of him felt like he'd been around enough to see all there was to see but it was good to be reminded every now and then just how much there was out in the strange, strange world. "Better build an ice cage around it," he advised as the novelty quickly gave way to seasoned procedure. "Is it going to understand English?"

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Eliza was quick to respond to Wail's suggestion. The icicle quickly doubled back towards its confused target, aimed right as its feet. Before it could leap out of the trajectory, it erupted into water for long enough to splash around the Crow's ankles - and freeze into a pair of manacles. As the bird-man attempted to break its bonds, another torrent crossed the street, pausing just before soaking the bird in order to solidify into a wall of ice that completely encompassed him. With some effort, Eliza managed to drag the icy cage down to street level, so that she and Wail could just walk over to the Crow instead of making their way up to the roof.

"Most spirits understand the local dialect," she said, "especially in places with animist faiths. One of the upsides to being a city with a heavy vodoun contingent. Mind you, some of 'em like to play dumb when compelled. But if it comes to that, I can put the words together in a way Birdbrain will understand."

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"Well, I've always found that folks'll get the message if you talk loudly enough," Wail remarked dryly with a faint threatening not directed at the imprisoned bird creature. Walking over to the ice cage, he folded his arms across his chest and looked down with pursed lips. "Alright, brother, I don't know if you've done anything, but a carrion bird showing up at a conspicuously smashed-up scene is stretching the benefit of the doubt. Got anything to say to change my mind?" He wasn't going to immediately attack the subdued spirit just because things looked bad but the aging hero wasn't one to hem and haw when a potential threat appeared.

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The bird-man tried to claw at the walls of his prison in desperation, but couldn't quite the leverage to dig in with its talons. It cawed desperately and loudly in Wail's face, but wasn't keen to speak.

"Listen, roteater," said Temperance. "I know you've got some knowledge of the common tongue. I suggest you use it."

The Carrion Crow shut its beak for a few seconds. When it opened it again, Wail heard something that was like speech, but he knew for a fact it wasn't coming out of the Crow's mouth. It sounded like the rustle of feathers forming words in the back of his mind. "Feast," it said. "We must feast. Tonight is great banquet."

Temperance looked the bird-man over. He really was skin and bones, the feathers just barely coating his meager form. "You couldn't have found a junkyard or something?" she asked.

"Old. Old rot. Too stale. Too jagged. Kill must be fresh. Will be fresh tonight."

"Let's say I found a way to set you up with an alternative. What'd you say to that?"

The Crow tilted its head towards Temperance. "What sort?"

"Dead fish, freshly yielded from the sea. Shipwrecks and buried cargo, preserved in old caskets. The fruits of the ocean floor. Interested?"

A sensation like the licking of lips filled Wail's head. "Yes, yes, yes! Feed. Feed."

"Not so fast. Tell us where the banquet is, and what's on the menu."

"Good. Good. Jungle of rusted machines. Lord's name is Sullivan. Feast is fresh and vital. Steel bones. Brick flesh. Grand heart of all. Heart torn out, blood like wine. They feast on a god."

Temperance blanched beneath her mask. "Oh, hell..."

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Wail wasn't overly bothered by the creepy little bird-thing's stilted telepathy or eating habits but when it started to describe the blood of fresh and vital prey, his expression twisted into a snarl. "You sick little--" Only the ice cage containing the spirit prevented him from grabbing the carrion eater by the neck. Instead, the experienced hero bit down on a growl and turned to Temperance. "Sullivan and Sons is a junkyard nearby. We need to be there yesterday." Suiting action to words, he started off with thunderous footfalls.

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Temperance chased after her, her coat flapping in the wind. "You've got to understand," she said as she ran, "I think I know what's going on now." The cool demeanor she'd adopted for the Carrion Crow was long gone; now she was trying to keep up and not lose it. "Carrion Crows... nest in places of decay. Places like Detroit, or that city that got evacced when Chernobyl blew. But sometimes they need to lay their nests. Drive down property values, things like that." She made a mental note somewhere along the line to try and make an ice sled or a water lariat or a something that would make her look less like a Carnivale refugee in a foot race. "For all the stuff that goes down in this town, this city builds itself back up. And there's a reason for that. And if they want to lay their nest, they'd need a lot of power to make the decay take root deep down."

The gates of Sullivan and Sons were sealed shut, and behind the chain link lay a jungle of rust, just as the Crow had said. The moon and the lights from a distant hut cast long shadows over the few empty parts of the junkyard - and off in the distance, there was something like birdsong. Strangled, dead birdsong.

"Two birds. One stone. I think they're going to try and kill Doctor Metropolis."

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"Yeah, got that from the 'steel bones, brick flesh' bit," Wail agreed, handling the sudden escalation in the severity of the situation with the ease of someone who could legitimately say he'd been in worse situations. The earsplitting educator flexed his knees for a moment and leapt over the fence around the junkyard as if it were a worn down speed bump. Landing with a resounding thump, he continued toward the unsettling sounds without waiting for the teenager to devise her own way past the barrier. "Could have been this sister I knew back in the day, Brickhouse, but she moved to Delaware, oh, fifteen years back. "

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"Ah." Temperance slightly kicked herself for trying to get the last word in; of course Mr. LaMarr knew all about Doctor Metropolis. Hell, he'd probably fought by the city spirit's side a few times. Where he leapt the fence, she was able to find a small gap in the fence and slip through, though it did take a slight bit out of her pea coat. She kept quiet as they moved towards the bird song, which only got louder and more broken the closer they got. Finally, they stumbled on the clearing amongst the dead cars, and Eliza couldn't help but gasp.

Four Carrion Crows danced in a circle around an altar formed from old neon signs. A fourth stood above them all, supping on... something she didn't want to think about. Behind them was Doctor Metropolis, lashed to the altar with bonds that were more ephemeral than material. And he did not look good. The brick-like hue to his skin was now the pallor of windworn stone, and there seemed to be good chunks rent out of it. Water ran from the wounds, mixed with elements of something black. He was struggling against his restraints, his inhuman composure gone in favor of pain and distress. The "priest" of the Crows turned to the city spirit, its talons dripping with ichor. It ran them across his chest, and though Temperance couldn't see what the Crow was doing, it could hear the pained groans of Metropolis.

This was not her ball park. It was, on some level, but she hadn't been expecting something like this. But... you had to get in the deep end some time.

"You got a plan?" she asked Wail.

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"Only the one plan," Wail told the novice heroine as he sized up the distance between them and the macabre ritual, "but it's what you'd call multipurpose." Turning his gaze on the authoritative looking crow creature leading the group, he took a deep breath and shouted a single syllable. The force of the sound wave made the air between him and his target shimmer, ruffling feathers and disturbing loose refuse as it went before hitting the Carrion Crow like the wrathful fist of God. There was abruptly empty space where the bird spirit had been and a series of groaning, clattering crashes of metal echoed the terrible sound as the rot eater's momentum carried it through stack after stack of wrecked automobiles. By the time it was finished, LaMarr could see clear through to the opposite end of the junkyard.

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There was a moment of stunned silence as the cacophony of the attack reverberated through everyone's skulls, as Wail continued his advance. "Listen up, featherbrains. Leeroy Brown doesn't have a thing on this junkyard dog, so get gone before I knock your flock off the city block Doc," he warned, a certain confident swagger present in his ground-shaking strides, his voice booming with enough force to make the carrion crows stumble over themselves to the dirt. A final leap brought him right down in the middle of the scavenger spirits, the impact knocking a precariously perched car from the top of a stack with a screeching twist of metal on metal. "I'm talking now, jokers!"

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The roar from Wail was enough to knock the Crows to the ground, sending up a storm of frenzied cawing. And with the cawing came a change in the air - or perhaps it was the fact that Wail's first scream had knocked their priest through three stacks of cars and left a damp pile of feathers and ectoplasm where it had finally come to rest. The aura of ceremony was gone, and with it, the bonds that held Doctor Metropolis were nothing more than rusted steel - that broke like plastic as the city god flexed. He rose, still somewhat weak from his imprisonment, and called steel into his hand. As it entered his grip, it molded into a spear the rough size and shape of a traffic light. He hurled it at one of the fallen Crows with all his might --

-- but the Crow merely rolled out of the way, causing the gigantic spear to embed itself in the ground. Temperance tried to take advantage of the distraction and rain down hail stones on the decay spirits, but the storm missed her target, turning the ground to mud. One by one, the Crows rose from the ground, and turned on the group in a frenzy. Nets of black energy formed in their hands, and with a sharp shriek, leapt out. Temperance felt weak as the net hit her, and swore she felt something dragged down its knitting towards the spirit. Wail, meanwhile, felt fatigue bear down on him like a freight train, but he threw it off easily - which was less than he could say for Doctor Metropolis, who stumbled on his feet. It was strange to see the god of the urban fundament shake under such an assault...

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  • 2 weeks later...

Wail snorted a harsh breath through his nose as he powered through the spirit's draining attack. For a fifty-seven year old with the aches and pains of decades of no-holds throwdowns, just getting up in the morning took an iron force of will. "You turkeys just don't LEARN!" he shouted, casting his superhuman voice in a wide swath the caught three of the crow creatures with enough force send them tumbling end over end in a flurry of feathers and talons like bowling pins hit by a cannonball. "How you holding up there, brother?" he asked Metropolis at a more modulated volume, keeping an eye on Temperance to make sure she didn't get in over her head.

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"Remarkably well," said Doctor Metropolis. The stone knitted further, like clay being worked on a potter's wheel, and his eyes glowed with the fire of a downed power line. "I am not so much damaged..."

Another long spear grew from the elemental's hand, and before Temperance could process its appearance, it flew from his hand. The javelin - something like a power cable turned solid, complete with lightning streaming from the tip - struck one of the Crows right through the chest. Lightning washed out over its form, and soon there was nothing left but scorched feathers and a long burned mark on the ground. Most of his compatriots were still reeling from Wail's blast, leaving Temperance to take advantage of the opening. She reeled off a burst of hail like a machine gun - that crashed against a rusted chassis.

Damnit. I really -- She felt exhaustion hit her like a freight train, likely a result of one of the Crows. She shook it off quickly. --i really need to work on this stuff.

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"Pulling to the right there, kid," Wail called to Temperance as he took a step forward toward one of the remaining crows. His massive hand shot forward with surprising speed, wrapping around the slender, avian neck and squelching a startled squawk. "Had the same problem at your age. Actually practiced in a junkyard like this one some," the earsplitting educator continued casually as he dragged his victim along far enough to repeat the grab on another of the carrion spirits. This one saw the hand coming and tried to dodge out of the way but a snap punch to the face sent it reeling long enough for LaMarr to grab it and lift both off of their feet and into the air.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The two bound carrion spirits had little they could do, save for claw helplessly at LaMarr. Doctor Metropolis, meanwhile, took advantage of the subdual. "I've seen many practice in this yard over the years," he said. "Crafters, titans, movers of the firmament... many of them learned their arts here." A power cable formed around his wrist and lashed out at one of the Crows, crackling with spectral electricity. It bit the spirit of decay right between the eyes, causing it to convulse. "They have all gone on to greatness. It is fitting that she take her first steps here."

"Really?" Temperance's attempt at icy mystique thawed. Here was a city-father offering her praise. She quickly regained her composure and showered hail on another Crow, who seized up under the blast of frost. "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate the sentiment."

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  • 2 weeks later...

LaMarr smiled at Metropolis' encouragement of Eliza, a little surprised by the city spirit's apparent way with people. On the other hand, he supposed that people were the heart of a city as much as its concrete foundations. The expression he gave the pair of carrion birds with his hands around their throats was considerably more dangerous. With speed granted by superdense musculature, he knocked the crows' skulls together in a powerful clap, not quite hard enough to cause them to disintegrate like the others but more than enough to send them reeling. "That taken the fight out of you fools yet?" The discombobulated but angry squawks he received in reply suggested surrender wasn't on their agenda.

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"For spirits of rot and weakness," Doctor Metropolis said, "they are annoying tenacious." The whip in his hand shifted again, to a Stop sign red as rubies with an edge like a battleaxe. He hurled it casually, as if tossing a dart, and it buried itself - most precisely - in the head of one of the remaining Crows. A second later, the axe clattered to the ground as the Crow's essence blew away on the wind, leaving nothing but the stench of rotted meat. "But it's quite satisfying when they fall."

"They're unclean, in every sense," Temperance said. A barrage of icy slivers flew from her fingers and found a target in one of the spirits Wail was restraining; the Crow flew apart under the barrage, falling to pieces. "Spirits of rot and decay. No endings. No release. Just endless collapse and suffering." She held her nose as the whiff of exploded Crow drifted over to her. "It's a pleasure to deal with them."

God, I hope that sounded good. Last thing I wanna do is look like a newbie when it comes to spirit ecologies when I'm talking to the biggest spirit in the city.

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Grimacing at the unpleasant remains splattered on his forearm and shirt by the crow Temperance had destroyed, Wail grunted in displeasure and drew back the arm holding the final spirit in a choke lock. "Say goodnight, Jim," he advised the decaying creature before slamming it headfirst into a nearby stack of compacted metal and glass. The meaty pop of the carrion bird's explosion was largely overshadowed by the booming clang of the collision, followed by the palpable post-fight lull. "Well, that can't be sanitary," he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants with limited effect. "Good work, kid. You all... healed up there, Doc?" The high school teacher wasn't entirely clear on what kind of recuperation process the living embodiment of a city might require, but Metropolis looked appreciably better than he had when they'd arrived.

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  • 2 weeks later...

"I am fine," said Doctor Metropolis. And he appeared it - there were a few gouges left on his stony chest, but they were already starting to heal up. "I am glad to say that the same can not be said for the Crows. There is a place for such spirits, as there's a place for all things. But they came into my domain, wished to turn this city into a cesspit..."

For a second, Temperance could feel fury building in the city father like a storm. "Do you think this was designed as an assault?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I have no enemies in their Court. I've even let a few of their number feast at my landfills in the past. I merely believe they decided to strike above their station." He took a look over Temperance. "I see you dance in the choirs invisible as well."

Connected to the pulse of the city. Has probably never seen Monty Python. Temperance stifled the thought and delivered a bow to Doctor Metropolis. "Thank you, Doctor. It was an honor to fight along side you."

The urban elemental nodded to her, then sunk into the disturbed earth of the junkyard. When he was gone, Temperance turned to Wail. "So, uh... that was a hell of a thing, wasn't it?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Enjoy it while you can," Wail advised, layering his hands across the small of his back and bending to crack his spine audibly. "Before you know it you've blinked and you're jaded and going on and on about how things were in 'your day'." Stretching out as many of the kinks as he was able, the aging educator turned to Eliza. "You did good. Wouldn't have even known those crow things were there if you hadn't noticed them, and it might have been too late for the Doctor by the time somebody came looking."

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