DearTrickster

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Featuring… @Indy Cooper as The Salamander

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Time: Afternoon - Present Day
Location: Berenice’s Nest - Carver (Outside Lost Haven)

Carefully The Alchemyst listened to Salamander, with the end of her staff she hooked the strings against the crystal lifting it up for inspection. Her staff hummed in the palms of her hands against his little creation. Charlie decided Carrie would be able to help her figure out what it really is.

“Thanks I guess.” She said squinting at the odd little contraption. “I actually don’t rely on technology to detect magic, I uh- usually play it by ear. If something feels weird then I trust my instincts.”

Charlie was convinced he really could do nothing to change Berenice back but she wholly believed trying to would only make things worse, she said as much. “I understand that there is little on Earth that can’t be broken down to it’s basics, but I think trying to do that with Berry would just mess her up more.”

Her right thumb glided across some smoothed copper knot in her staff, “I believe you when you say you want to get this ex apprentice of yours off the streets, then why did you destroy his book? With more time I could have figured out what other tricks he had up his sleeve, like being able to survive the magical equivalent to a bomb.” Charlie paced over to a tree to lean against, “Shit’s not adding up with what you say and do, Sally-Man.”

While challenging Salamander in any way seemed to send prickles across her skin, that brief glimpse of something when he spoke of Sebastian was setting off red flags.

“Studying that book would only have set it’s dark little seeds into your mind, girl. I have seen more over my natural lifespan than you will forget over yours. Do not presume that just because you don’t understand a thing, that makes it a lie.” His beard, already a thicket of iron grey and silver, began to bristle out in consternation as he jutted his chin out in irritation. His eyes flashed again, and this time, they stayed long enough to clearly be those of a blackbird, before he closed them and sighed. The trees around them rustled their leaves slightly with the motion.

“I understand your concerns, youngling. But studying Sebastian the way you mention will only lead to catastrophe for you and yours. Best to excise him from the world, quickly, cleanly, if necessarily with extreme prejudice, than to try and understand what he has become. His illusions may very well be better than mind, and he knows the human psyche well.”

His eyes went pitch, the whites vanishing in a flash of irritation. Not exactly a naturally human reaction. She glared at youngling and girl. Speaking down to her, not using her name. It was rubbing her raw. Before her temper flared she latched onto Sebastian, Salamander’s note of illusion magic. That would be really tricky but if he was good at messing with the mind, what was watching her a few minutes ago?

He studied her face for a moment, noting the slight fearful tension, but well masked by bravado. His face lightened considerably. “It is tiring, I must admit, to be suspect all the time, but I admire your resilience. So let’s play a game!” He folded his arms, grinning. “It is a very simple game, one I have played many, many times, all over the world. All you have to do to win is to guess my name.”

Charlie scoffed. She replied a tad sarcastically, “Must be tiring to be stuck dealing with this goddamn youth, all this unadulterated energy and rebellion.” She took a short breath in through her nose, curiosity winning.

“Alright I’m game. Do I get any hints?”

“Hmmm. Hints would make it a bit easy, but I suppose your brass has earned you...two.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, then held up one finger on his right hand.

“One, I am not originally human.” Another finger went up. “And two, I have friends and relatives on every continent excepting Antarctica. Any more than that and it would be no challenge at all, I’m afraid.” He winked at her, appearing for an instant much more youthful, with high cheekbones and deeply tanned skin. The visage was so quickly gone it could have just been a wash of dirt over his face.

She watched him and saw the flashes of change.

Knew it.

She rubbed at some grit on her chin, then crouched down to the ground. Working through the riddle off of the two clues. His nickname was given and not chosen, wasn’t originally human to Charlie it must of meant he was some sort of animal or spirit? Carrie rambled about deities, demigods, and great spirits before. Charlie suddenly regretted not listening to those stories more closely. She studied his clothing more closely, noting feathers were worked well into his tools. The staff he had, the magic detector dreamcatcher...

His eyes seemed pitch twice before, reminding her of a pigeon but closer to a bird of prey than a fat shitter. She wondered idly how much he’d appreciate being likened to a pigeon, possibly about as much as she liked being called youngling. The common theme she remembered from Carrie’s stories was that these spirits were old, older than a lot of cultures. She stood back up, running her fingers through the dreamcatcher again. Then tapped the heel of her hand against her forehead.

He looked Native American briefly, she wished she had seen him like that longer to properly observe. Antarctica was only discovered in… She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember basic history dates. 1840? 1820? Somewhere around there, she decided and there haven’t been any true discoveries of human inhabitation of it. Charlie still had no indication of a name, he had clues of being a bird but it really gave no concrete conclusions.

She was silent as the minutes passed while she thought, “Brainteaser, all I figure is you must be some sort of… spirit? You’re old, really old. Humans haven’t inhabited Antarctica, while there is evidence of humans everywhere else. Salamander was given as a name, not chosen.”

She huffed, a strand of hair flying up. “You’re probably connected to some Native American culture but hell if I know that is here in North America or someplace else. You’re obviously connected to some bird, all I can remember was the Coyote...” She felt she was grasping at straws staring at the dreamcatcher. “The Coyote was a- a Trickster? Or was it the spirit that created life?”

“Yeah I give up.”

“Hahaha! Very good, this is all good information. You may even yet make it! Don’t give up, that ruins the fun.” He turned his head to glance up at the hill, where Berenice could be spotted through the trees, probably tying something to one of her treasure lines. “Tell you what, you have until I leave town to guess. If you get it right, I will grant you a favour. You also get three questions from me that I will answer. In return for these rules in your favour, though,” his head turned back to Charlie, and his smile as he did so seemed almost childlike, but also eerily malicious. “You only get one guess.”

His right hand gestured in the air idly as he spoke. “I will guess that I will be here at most two weeks, though that may change, given how difficult it might be to kill Sebastian or teach the siren. So think hard, eh?”

Finally that little bit of praise got a smile out of Charlie, she glanced away mumbling, “Thanks, I’ll- uh, I’ll start thinking of some good questions.”

Pretending to fiddle with the dreamcatcher again, she asked. “So, I was going to ask before the brainteaser. You said Sebastian is into illusions and obviously necromancy.” She rolled her hand in the direction of the cottage. “Would have he have left behind an invisible watcher to keep an eye on Berry while he was away? Or was that yours?”

She stalked past him drawing a line in the ground between the edge of the forest and the field. “Soon as I crossed into the woods the feeling of being watched was gone. I hope it was yours, ‘cause whatever it was must’ve overheard my conversation with my family. I want to keep Sebastian as far away from them as possible. Especially if he’s stalking around Lost Haven.”

She peered over her shoulder at him, “I’ll be straight with ya’ Salamander. I want to stick around and help Berry. Helping you get rid of Sebastian will be hitting two birds with one stone. I know Lost Haven like the back of my hand, all the abandoned areas and spots where someone would disappear off the grid.”

The old man’s face hardened immediately, all traces of humour gone in an instant. “I do not use watchers, nor would I need one this close to where I am,” he said, voice full of concern. “As long as you mentioned no locations, it should be fine, but I would operate under the assumption you are being followed. It was probably Sebastian’s work, scouting his old laboratory.” His face creased into a frown, and it was several moments before he spoke again.

“Likely, if it has ceased watching you, it has gone back to report to him about the happenings here. He would likely suspect I would track him down eventually, but if it did not see me, which we can only hope to be so fortunate, he won’t have become nearly as defensive as he might otherwise. If it has spotted me, my task will have become that much more difficult.” He glanced at Charlie. “As is yours. You don’t happen to have any way of tracking down whatever it was, do you? Knowing my apprentice, it will be something physical, even if you can’t see it with your own eyes.”

She pursed her lips, “’Friad you’d say that. I mentioned to my family I was going to talk to a sorcerer who knew Sebastian, didn’t use your name. If he’s not an idiot he’ll prepare for anyone.” Charlie admitted. “I don’t really have the means to track magic objects, I mean I noticed it was watching me…”

She tapped her chin in thought, “If it’s a physical object, I can find it rooting around the cottage using this thing you gave me. You stay here while I go looking for it. The less the bastard knows the better.” She stood up suddenly grasping the dreamcatcher in her hand unhooking it from her staff. “I’ll have Berry leave while I look so she doesn’t set this thing off.”

“If all this thing can do is watch then it’ll have to watch while I ruin it’s day.” She grinned winking. She shuffled her mask up over her nose, set her hood up, adjusted the goggles over her eyes. Pulled on her gloves. “Nothin’ stays hidden forever.”

Fiddling with the radio on her hip she turned it up really loud, she found she worked best with some background noise, she spoke over it. “By the by, Salamander. The name isn’t Girl or Youngling. It’s Charlie. Now off I go to do arguably the most normal thing I’m probably going to do all day.”

The old man snickered. “If following invisible things around the coast of Maine trying to track down a necromancer to help protect magically created sirens is your idea of anything even close to normal, Miss Charles, then I may want to leave this town sooner than I thought. You know where to find me if you should need me. And if you come up with a good question.” With that, he sat back down and settled into the nook of tree roots he had been disturbed from and closed his eyes, for all the world looking like just an old man taking a nap in the woods. Excepting the sword, of course.

Mass Effect: Borealis

You see. This is why Serena admantly doesn't leave the hangar bay when everyone's asleep.

She's afraid of what she'll hear through Dex's doors.

@Rtron

Dex's sex life will never not be the butt of a joke. <3

Mass Effect: Borealis

<Snipped quote by DearTrickster>

Never said he didn't. :P Just thought I stated that Drono has a kinky side. ^-^

@Fallenreaper

Oh yes ofc~

Mass Effect: Borealis

<Snipped quote by Zombiedude101>

At least he's got a name to match the leash. :P Especially when things get kinky with Dex. XD

@Fallenreaper

Balto earns those sexually transmitted diseases. Gotta give our turian girl some credit here.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Hellis}

Featuring… @fdeviant as Puck

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Time: Early Evening - Present Day
Location: Odette’s Hotel Room - Las Vegas, Nevada

The Ambassador primped in the hotel’s small vanity mirror harsh fluorescent light revealing the dark circles beneath her cover up, pulling and tousling strands of blue hair. Having all but recovered from the trip into Gwyneth Owens world she had discussed in length the results of the meeting with her partner Bach and the ever present mercury golem; Mandate. With the contract in mind, freshly pulled apart to protect not only themselves but their interests The Ambassador felt ready to face Puck, once again.

“Mandate I will need you to remain quiet during the summoning and negotiations. Similar to how things were with Queen Titania. Puck will be different but he is just as dangerous.” Odette addressed Mandate smiling reassuringly through the mirror.

“I feel like it would be best to wait the day, sleep on what we know.” Bach cautioned as he took some chalk to begin drawing protective warding circles. He removed some of the decorative hotel paintings from the wall clearing the space for a door. Pulling what he knew to summon Puck, Robin Goodfellow, from a memory long ago. He was cagey about how he came to know it. Earth Fey were famous for their long and accurate memories.

“I trust that it isn’t an easy task for Gwyneth to contact anyone outside of her items but at the moment we have the element of surprise, catching Puck off guard would give us more ground to stand on. I do not think he can be truly surprised but we shall hope for the best.” Odette reasoned patting a little lip colour with the tip of her ring finger along her bottom lip. “We have been playing at this rather fast and loose, something I am not comfortable with. However,” She puckered, “We cannot miss the opportunities as they come.”

Bach nodded from the floor, “Agreed.”

Odette strode across the floor having found no time to change her clothes. Pastel pink pants, sheer white blouse with gold trims at her collar and sleeve cuffs. She wore a white cropped top beneath the blouse. She bent at the knee her hand pressing onto the floor, magic from the Arcane Stream flowing through her powering the wards Bach drew. The caution well placed after their last meeting.

Bach was on his knees drawing the outline of Puck’s door within the circle of wards. The simple drawing of an imp’s head began to form with every stroke, thorns forming around the imp’s horned head. When the imp’s head was complete, his fingers hardened into thick bark carving along the lines into the wood floors. Odette finished the wards as he picked up the chalk again. She joined him in carving the lines he completed, using raw energy along her fingers for precision.

Bach pulled lengths of red fabric from his sleeve, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Odette passed him her purse as she carved. He dug deep, an assortment of sounds as his elbow disappeared into the purse. He asked Odette where the bowl was and she replied with some vague hand gestures, noting it was in between the scales and last year’s summer collection of sunglasses. He grumbled about the organization before finally pulling a pewter bowl from the purse. He placed the bowl at the crown of the imp’s head, tying the red fabric around the bowl. From within his jacket he made a pained face a sharp snap he freed a few branches of Yew, from another pocket he removed a cloth bag of wormwood sprinkling it over the bundle. Odette finished carving and with a whispered fire spell the wood caught, the smell of wormwood was pungent leaving a bitter note on their tongues.

“What else do we need?”

Bach replied pulling out their strongest vintage of port, “Strong spirits or fresh cream fills the bowl.”

Odette snorted, “He would laugh if it was fresh cream from us.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He smiled impishly uncorking the bottle with his teeth he filled the deep bowl to the rim. Then quickly stepped back beside her they shared one silent look then both bowed at the waist.

A low rumbled filled the room as all the light began to fade, shadows falling from the walls onto the floor around the summoning circle. Smoke from the twigs fused with the darkness, falling embers casting their ethereal glow onto Puck’s sigil, the glyph slowly livening with hellish light. The shadows and poison fumes grew into a man-sized mass atop the circle. Without warning, the dark conglomeration was engulfed in flames, swirling in a hot gust of air the filled the room. As the flames spiralized upwards, the figure of a man was slowly revealed; tall and sleek, clad in a dark suit, skin pale and basked in a strange glow, hair short but wild, cut almost boyishly, face handsome and brooding with sharp features, and dark, curved antlers protruding from his head.

Before addressing his supplicants, Puck leaned down and gingerly grasped the bowl of port, taking a large sip that was more of a gulp, downing the bowl’s contents with ease. There was a hint of surprise in his dark eyes.

”French port?” his voice echoed through the room, a mid-toned voice with subtle hints of an old accent accompanied by a dark reverb. ”Such a treat. I haven’t tested any French delicacies in, what has it been? Over 200 years?”

He turned to Odette and Bach, bowing to each in a similar fashion. As he stood, his face was immediately painted with his signature impish grin.

”A two-fold surprise, it seems! To what do I owe this honor, Lady Ambassador?” He seemed quite jovial despite his present company.

And the game beings…

The Ambassador straightened slowly leveling her gaze comfortably upon Puck. For months his prophecy had been a driving force to solve what seemed like at the beginning an impossible puzzle. Now she stood before him much like other powerful Fey, with the answers. “An old barrel of French port for one we knew would appreciate it. It has been some time since we last crossed paths, today is for a rather special occasion.”

She smiled a little impish herself, his was infectious. “I am absolutely pleased you are here to share in this… accomplishment.”

Puck raised a brow but maintained his grin.

”Accomplishment? Whatever could you mean? I suppose the recollection of this little ritual is somewhat of an accomplishment. Honestly, which of you pulled this one out of a hat?” He gestured to both Bach and Odette jokingly. ”No one’s gone through the trouble of conjuring me up like this since ol’ William passed.”

Then it hit him. There was an unmistakeable air of confidence around Odette separate from her normal sense of arrogance. Puck could feel it emanating from her, but he couldn’t quite place it. It was familiar, in any case.

Bach replied, “We do nod at tradition occasionally. My memory is sharp.” He tapped the side of head bark fingers making a thunk noise against his own horns.

“We know to celebrate a simple summoning would be a waste of both of our time’s. No, today we summoned you here to negotiate and draft a contract.” Her grin grew wide, icy cold blue eyes locking onto Puck’s watching for his reaction. “On behalf of a mutual friend, Gwyneth Owens.”

Puck looked at her for a moment, arm raised and hand on his chin, mind racing. How came she to know that name, and so soon? Puck knew that his prophecy some months ago would have eaten at her, but he didn’t imagine she’d be so efficient in producing relevant information pertaining to his portents. But after another moment of consideration, it all made sense.

The air around Odette, it was that same old magic that surrounded Marie, the same obscurity that shielded Puck from pursuing Gwyneth’s history. Odette knew something Puck didn’t which ate at him, but more than aggravation, he felt intrigue.

Standing straight, Puck folded his arms, his face becoming neutral.

”I see,” his voice lowered, less joyous than before but now quite inquisitive. ”So you’ve unravelled the mystery, have you? Then I must congratulate you a second time. It is as I said three months ago, you are quite something, Lady Ambassador. Would you do me the honor of telling me a little about our mutual friend?”

Puck would discover what he could before acknowledging the contract request. Above all this was still an exchange, a bargain had not yet been met. Despite Odette having knowledge Puck lacked, he still had notary power.

She had his undivided interest. “I really must thank you for that prophecy, Mister Goodfellow. You gave me just the right clues to puzzle it out, it was a simple matter of following where they led. A piece of cake, really.” She couldn’t help to gloat. It was months of work. Reaching into her purse she revealed the small trunk with Gwyneth’s Sight opening it to show the coins. “I know that Madame Owens is explicitly tied to the White Witch. I spoke with her directly through one of her mysterious items, as she is in spirit she cannot complete any physical forms of a contract. Madame Owens suggested to bring the negotiations to you because the White Witch, Madame Owens reincarnation, is under your care.”

“I’ve learned much of Madame Owens, she is a rather old soul. Revealed certain truths, even learned a little about you, Mister Goodfellow.” She added her grin creeping down into a serious line. “We intend to negotiate an alliance.”

“I can sense where these other items are and I sense one has arrived to Las Vegas. The one I imagine White Witch has for herself.”

So the rumors were true . . . Puck thought to himself, recalling old tales from Gwyneth’s time. She possessed more power than he knew, able to not only divide herself among multiple items, but to grant one such as Odette her own Sight even when her power is split in two halves. Not only that, but Gwyneth had actually asked for Odette’s help, forge an alliance even.

What was he to do? If Puck agreed to draft a contract for Odette and Gwyneth, and sign in Gwyneth’s stead, his fears of losing Marie may be realized. On the other hand, if this contract were formed and Odette offered her aid, then Marie, and consequently Gwyneth, would get exactly what she wants. And though it pained him to admit, Puck desperately wanted to see this story unfold.

Puck chuckled, eyes closed.

”You place me in a very interesting position, Lady Ambassador. Truly, you believe that you have bested me, gone to every imaginable length to undo whatever ills you believe I have cooked up for you. And this is a most enticing offer, I will admit. Perhaps I shall agree to your contract, but first, what exactly do you think you’ve learned?”

Puck looked Odette in the eyes, faithful grin returning.

”What know you of I or the web I weave? What know you of the intricate threads I gifted you upon our last meeting?”

Odette maintained her confidence, unwavering. He was grasping at straws, from where he stood and his role to play today he really held no more power than he did when he stepped through the summoning door. As Odette liked to believe, and she did. “I know that I am an unpredictable element in your web. You expect me to act as a fly struggling in the threads while I move as a spider myself.”

She rolled her shoulders so easily, shrugging not breaking eye contact snapping the trunk shut. “I learned that you are tied to the Witch-Father Bucca. The resemblance is unmistakable now that I see. I know you would not like me to play the part of a villain wrenching the White Witch’s world upside down when these problems can be solved by peaceful means.”

“You and I are capable of understanding that much.”

Puck laughed again, this one a little more audible.

”Found out that bit of trivia, did you? It isn’t some secret truth I keep hidden out of resentment or necessity. The Bucca and I are brothers, yes. He and I are but two of five in total.”

Puck could feel the wards placed around the room, some to keep Odette safe, unlike the last time they met, some perhaps to keep him confined to his summoning area. He had no desire to cause Odette harm, so he very gently began to pace about the sigil until he felt enough give to pace around the room, speaking as he walked.

”I am often questioned about my true nature. Am I fey, demon, or some other spirit? The truth is, I cannot say. My brothers and I have lived far longer than these titles. Honestly, I don’t think any of us really mind. A label makes things easier, creates expectations.”

“I am Robin Goodfellow, as you know, a trickster by trade and so called a faerie, sometimes a lesser demon. My brother, Herne or Herne the Hunter, as you may know him, shares the fey title. He and I look much alike. More man than beast. Then there is the Bucca, or Witch-Father, a being blessed with ancient knowledge, grand initiator of witches, the Devil of many folktales, though not the same devil of biblical origin. Then there’s Leonard, head like a goat with three horns. He lives mostly in Germany and deals with witches there. Finally, there is the Leshy, a forest spirit of Slavic folktales, perhaps the most wild of us all.”

Puck leaned against a wall, pausing for a moment as he turned his attention back to Odette.

”We are the Pwca, The Imps, whatever name you’d like to know us by. Our bond is no secret, merely a fact that has been dismissed or forgotten, or perhaps was never known to begin with. Either way, I grant you this knowledge freely because it does you no great service to know it.”

He moved again, pulling the chair from desk behind him and placing it at the center of the summoning circle, taking a seat and crossing his legs, one arm resting on his leg, the other placed on his chin as he leaned forward.

”And as for your part in the White Witch’s story, you misunderstand. You mistakenly believe that I have cast you as some villain, that you are the antagonist of her story by my decree. This, Lady Ambassador, is simply not true. You yourself have met with the witch, Gwyneth Owens, you have agreed to forge an alliance, and whether she knows it or not, you will be giving the White Witch exactly what she wants. How, then, could you be the villain, how could this not end peacefully?”

He looked in her eyes as he slumped back in his chair.

Watching Puck pace outside the wards she turned a terrible glare onto Bach, her grip on his arm was tighter than a shackle. He shrugged sheepishly, he believed Puck would have respected the lines they drew. He had, to a degree. Bach whispered as Puck began his little story, “Apologies, My Lady.”

She forced her irritation away to listen. Learning more seemed to dismantle some of the mysteries surrounding Puck for centuries, but really it opened him up to a slew of new questions. A veil she felt she wouldn’t be able to peek behind, not today. It meant she had no real way to defend herself.

She thought for a moment watching him sit back inside the circle, his body language was that of ease. While a knot was developing between her shoulder blades, the self imposed tension. “You were angry when you gave me the prophecy. White Witch will be angry when we meet again, I have no doubts. As for Madame Owens…” Odette paused for a few moments, picking her words carefully. “We have similar goals, neither of us need the other as an obstacle. I understand far more than what I say.”

“Self preservation is certainly where this need to negotiate is borne from but it has evolved from that.” Sincerity, something she would be capable of feeling when having a conversation with Puck. “Anger either from an Imp or a Witch is something I can deal with. So, Puck. What do you want? Drafting a contract is a service, what do you want in return?”

Puck exhaled audibly, turning his head up in thought. He twiddled his fingers and thumbs, sharp claws scraping against one another. What did he want? There were any number of favors he could ask of Odette, but what did she really have to offer?

Finally, he decided on his terms and looked her in the eye once more.

”This is a story I wish to see play out, so I will draft your contract and sign on Gwyneth’s behalf. But in return, I must request two things. The first: you must disclose to me what you have learned of Gwyneth. It is unlikely that I shall provide this information to the White Witch, but it is something I wish to know as an onlooker.”

He waited for Odette to agree to the first term.

Odette did the same as he did she stepped outside of the wards resentfully casting an eye at them as she grabbed a chair herself, she took a seat across from Puck. Her back straight as a board Bach handed her a notepad where he wrote down everything they discussed. “Easy enough. I agree to the first terms. I remember all the details of her story, she went in depth with her life. A lonely existence for a wild spirit, she had much to say. Bach wrote down everything in this notebook, I can recite it all.”

A curious creature.

“What is the second term?” She waited, folding her hands in her lap.

Puck’s grin was dastardly and full.

”The second term: I ask that you would permit me to finish a thought I started three months ago. This wealth of new information seems to have cleared my vision, and you have my thanks for that.”

Her expression darkened considerably, “If the point of the last prophecy was to frighten me then what is the point of this one? I have figured out the puzzle-!” She nearly snapped then reined herself in when Bach gripped her shoulder. She took a deep breath, “I am familiar with Fey games and this is unnecessary.”

”Is it unecessary? Have you truly completed the puzzle, or have you been putting the pieces exactly where they belong, seeing treacheries where they do not exist? You knew nothing of Gwyneth until you met her yourself, the rest of the world, even I, are not so fortunate. Her obscurity clouded my vision and I could only provide you with a mere piece of the puzzle. It is not my fault if you chose to falsely interpret my words and chase a lie. But now that this obstacle has been removed, there remains several missing pieces.”

Puck folded his arms, waiting.

Her hands gripped in her lap she replied dryly, “And there is a price for every piece. Nothing is for free. I am well aware of how this works, Mister Goodfellow. You must be taking some level of satisfaction in this.”

She stood to pace herself, brow furrowed she held her temples. She stopped at Mandate seeing her reflection in the golem’s shiny red eye, Mandate was wearing a frown. She commented, “A price tag on my ability to sleep at night for an alliance with a powerful witch like Madame Owens.”

Bach commented quietly as in a way of a joke, “My Lady needs her beauty sleep.”

She glared at him for the second time today, a look filled to the brim with venom.

“If not only for your own sake.” He added not faltering under her glare.

She stopped pacing then turned back to Puck, deciding what she already knew with absolute confidence. She paced to him and held out her hand. “Whatever lies before me I will have the means to face it and best it.”

“Monsieur Goodfellow, we have a deal.”

Puck stood, taking her hand in his.

”It seems we do. Now, if you’ll provide me with the terms of yours and Gwyneth’s alliance.”

Puck snapped his fingers, an old scroll, inkwell, and quill forming on the desk behind them, the quill hovering over the scroll ready to begin writing. Odette stood at his elbow dictating the terms. Noting the priority of Gwyneth Owens and The Ambassador not interfering with each other’s business and interests. No harm will be brought directly or indirectly against Gwyneth and The Ambassador, thirdly no harm will befall those connected with Gwyneth Owens or the Ambassador. Leaving a little fine print wiggle room, for what she officially dubbed it as Trials of the Fey for the White Witch to complete in the quest of collecting Gwyneth’s items. The contract noted the bargain in exchange for the signed and honoured negotiations The Ambassador would lend her aid, then set the trials.

The quill faithfully copied down every bit of information spoken by Odette, word for word, leaving a space at the bottom for two signatures. Puck, having gained the power to enter Marie into contracts without her official consent from their original contract, signed his name at the bottom, nothing that it was signed in place of Gwyneth’s signature and applied only to Gwyneth.

Odette read the contract over twice, Bach read it aloud as well. “Be sure to put your complete title, The Ambassador is too vague.”

Odette tipped her head at that, “You are right.” She corrected it to The Ambassador of the Fair Folk. “Thank you, Bach.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

She took the quill dipping the ink, tapping off excess ink with a neatly intricate but unique flourish she signed the contract.

With the last signature in place, the ink and quill vanished and the scroll rolled itself up, neatly sealed. Puck took it and placed it inside his suit jacket.

”Well, now that that’s done . . . I believe you have something for me?” He gestured to Bach.

Bach handed him the notebook. “My memory and recording is exact. My Lady recited everything they spoke of immediately after she woke up.”

Odette nodded then took a deep breath in through her nose. “Do you mind if we record this as well? Audio recording that is.”

Puck took up the notebook and thumbed through it for a moment before tucking it away in his jacket along with the contract. He turned to Odette and smiled.

”Certainly, be my guest.” He waited for her to hit record before he began.

”Sight . . . such woeful irony. The witch’s gift is yours to claim, a boon greater than you know, and yet one that will fail you time and again. Burned by witch’s fire, you stand ready in the garden to accept your paradise, not risen, but changed, changed as the cunning fire changes all. But even though the apple falls in your lap and the giantess gives her blessing, a serpent sneaks into your Eden and wraps itself round the Tree of Life. But this serpent does not tempt, no . . he hungers.

When the veil was formed by the Spirit of Old, when the stars fell and soaked the Earth in their blood, he was among them, thirsting for new life. He whispers to you in sorrowful sleep, invites you into his bed. He does not turn you from salvation, that is not his aim. Indeed, ‘tis not holy waters which will save you from his torment, but cunning fire, the spark of a world long forgotten. Be swift, young Eve. Be not consumed by his lust, but ravaged by a flame that was. And the question is not whether you will be burned, but whether you will rise from the ashes . . . or will he?”

She pursed her lips and stopped the recording. She was quiet for some moments her head hung, “I need to ask. Do- Do you believe in those stories of creation?”

Odette did not expect an answer and she wondered why she asked Puck. In spite of her sincerity earlier there was really no room for it for creatures such as them.

Puck knelt down, putting himself at Odette’s level. He looked her directly in the eyes, his cockiness and impish air gone. Instead, he bore a look of worry and wonder, though it was hard to tell which was more prominent.

”What we believe and what is do not always align. It is of little consequence what I believe. What happened in the beginning, mortals ask themselves all the time as if knowing will bring them peace, when in fact, the truth is far more complicated. Perhaps that story is true, but if so, it is one of many. Perhaps it is the most recent, perhaps it is the oldest, perhaps it is one beginning which led to another. Do not be concerned by uncertain beginnings. Look instead to a future you can change.”

Puck stood up, moving back to the summoning circle. He turned a final time to face Odette.

”I am not angry, Lady Ambassador. My words are not venom meant to poison, they are remedies to wounds not yet inflicted. I do not resent you . . . and neither does he. You displayed true cunning in your battle, he understands. Farewell.”

With far less flare, Puck simply vanished, no light, no wind, no ominous aura. Gone.

She took a few unsteady steps away her expression screwed up and undecided. She held her phone to her chest. Bach’s expression was neutral and Odette had difficulty reading it unlike ever before. Her heart hammered, she told herself to expect this where Puck was involved and it wasn’t enough much like the wards.

“I am… I am going to start to analyze it.” She found her voice, “I need some time alone.” Drawing herself up she strode past Bach and Mandate. Holding her chin high.

Bach called after her, “My Lady, I see you brimming with emotion. Keep it under wraps, there is no room for her to rear her ugly head.”

Odette shut her eyes, she knew he was right. There was no luxury to be had here.

“Of course.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

@Mercinus3 Hot off the presses!!

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Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Hellis}

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Time: Hours later - Post Vision
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

Bach had sat in silence for the few hours while waiting for Odette to stir from her strange sleep, her eyes roamed beneath her lids. Murmuring words in French, English and Common Fey. He focused on reading through her grimoire for spells, trying the odd one without any luck. The magic that had ensnared her was at the root of her soul. If he were to try anything more invasive it would require her explicit consent.

He expertly ignored Mandate’s clear anxiety and silent animosity. He felt her singular red eye burrowing into him occasionally, her stare as heavy as she was. Bach returned it with a glare of his own, venomous. He held little respect for the golem, at first it was curiosity but the clear and genuine attachment had grown between Odette and Mandate, one he loathed to admit was there. He had wrongly assumed such a sentient being would have remained a tool. Regardless, Mandate could do nothing against him while she vied so heavily for Odette’s approval. There wasn’t anything in this world that could replace him in his Lady’s eyes. Figuratively and literally.

Finally after hours of awkward tension and waiting the pair of guardians were greeted with Odette’s awakening. Bach jumped a little at her bolting upright. The earth Fey followed her line of sight as she looked down on the now, opened box. The small arcane coins of various metals.

“I have a plan.” She said breathless looking from a relieved Bach to a clearly agitated Mandate, her ‘mane’ bristling. How long had she been asleep for?

“My Lady, I am relieved to see you awake. You dropped so suddenly, assumingly brought about by the magic on the box.” He said giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “How do you feel?”

Odette took a few deep breaths in steadying herself, “I am feeling better. I think I managed to avert the prophecy, Bach.” She squeezed his hand back grinning genuinely. “Gwyneth accepted my help to find her missing pieces, She gave me the ability to sense out her other objects and told me of how she came to be. All I need to do is sign a contract with Puck present for Gwyneth and we will solidify an alliance.”

Bach smiled warmly, “Excellent work, My Lady. With Puck though?” He asked tentatively. “He will see what it is we are trying to do.”

“He may try to warn Gwyneth of our past dealings, stir some trouble, but it is nothing I have not already told her. She is familiar with the Fey and I do not believe she will be offended by vague details. This will end amicably, the contract we will sign will ensure that. I will ensure that.” Odette replied rather earnestly, fuelled by hope. “Puck won’t stand a chance with the groundwork I’ve done today.”

“He will certainly not expect this.” Bach said.

Odette nodded swinging her feet over the edge of the bed to stand up, wobbling a little misplacing her center of gravity. Reaching out for Mandate to steady herself.

Turning her attention to the golem she spoke gently, “Everything is alright now, Gwyneth’s magic pulled my mind into her little illusionary world when I broke through the warding on the box. For the better, I was able to speak with her directly to negotiate a deal and learn more about her.”

“I did not want to worry you but this prophecy that Puck instilled upon me was before you and I met, Mandate. Bach, can you please bring me my phone?” Odette gestured to the desk.

“Yes, My Lady.” He stood from his chair, retrieving her phone and passing it into her hand.

Odette unlocked it, quickly digging up the audio file of the prophecy. “I believe you should know the full scope of why we are here in Las Vegas still. Yes we came initially to help Silence, but we remained based on the information we gained from Princess Lassantra’s oracle. Hekate gave us what we were looking for, it has provided us the upperhand in numerous ways.”

She played the voice memo.

Her voice sounded across the recorded memo, Odette had just about memorized the prophecy in it’s entirety. “You, my dear, are as the Earth, a powerful force, one of beauty, strength, and resolve. You are forever changing, forever overcoming obstacles, forever evolving. And when the elements, the very forces of nature over whom you have unbridled authority, conspire against you, you adapt in amazing ways. When your womb is scorched and dried, you do not become infertile; when your wells run dry, you release the gates of heaven and bring down her floods; when your limbs are scattered by the winds, they grow anew and become mountains tall. You will always adapt, always overcome your creation . . . but when a mother hurts her child, she may never regain their trust. And you, even as the Earth, can be hurt by her children in the most creative ways."

"But do not be fooled, your children are not the only ones who reside in your domain. Their stands upon your plains a being ancient, much like yourself, who comes in the guise of a friend. She is a fire that burns brighter than your own hearth, one that can level forests and leave nothing in their wake, and she is angry. Her spirit burns even now, but once she reaches her potential, once she devours the flame of humanity, she will be unstoppable. And the question isn't whether you will be burned, but if you shall reemerge from the ashes."

The recording ended as it always did, with an audible crack in her voice. The fear still plain even months later.

Odette stopped the recording then said, “We believe that the White Witch, Gwyneth’s reincarnation will be responsible for burning me. Witch-fire, being the most prominent clue to the prophecy, an ability the White Witch used against me when we first met. Not to mention the resemblance Gwyneth and White Witch share now that I have met her. If I can negotiate an alliance with her I will negate the prophecy Puck has set against me.”

“An obstacle, to be sure but one I cannot overcome.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

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Time: Afternoon - Present Day
Location: Berenice’s Nest - Carver (Outside Lost Haven)

Charlene picked the meat from the bones of her fish, fingers sticky with grease. She ate every scrap. Waste not, want not. She tossed the last of the bones off the cliff side. Idly she brushed her hands down her shirt, getting rid of stray scraps and wiping her hands ‘clean’ picking up some grit of dust as she did. Her mind wandered as she stared at the wreckage of the cottage, Berry’s nest. Her tongue running along ridges of her teeth, fingers rubbing against the grit, lost in thought. It was a picturesque cliff side, real sea breeze free of smog and exhaust. Noticeably now they were outside Lost Haven.

Charlie felt like she was way out of her depth dealing with Berry and now Salamander, this warlock or witch, whatever he considered himself.

He knew a thing or two about alchemy sure, her green eyes scanned the treeline looking for him. He had left the cottage at Berry’s word, she spotted him leaning against a tree looking out over the field much like herself. Her grip tightened on her staff, glaring at him. Something wasn’t right. She hated she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She checked the time on her old beat up cellphone, deciding now would be a good time to check in. She hoped she wouldn’t need to explain half of this to her mom, Jules.

Tabbing through the phone book to Home, Charlie waited listening to the ring tones turning her back to Salamander. “Come on, Harry. Please pick up…”

Finally a crackly, but thankfully bored voice of Charlie’s younger sister, Harry answered with a, “...Hello?”

“Harry, my dear sweet sister-”

“No, I won’t help you dumpster dive in the lower south side again. It wasn’t worth it to get the collectible Chinese new year gold coins. All we found were the bronze ones, anyways.” Harry said without missing a beat, her tone drier than a desert.

Charlie was quick to defend herself, “We found two and bargained for a complete set. I was going to say, sweet sibling, I’m still out of town. Would appreciate if you could tell mom and gramps I’m okay.”

“Why’re you gone for so long anyway? Did Carrie drag you out of the city again?” Harry asked, unseen twirling the cord of the phone. “Usually on these escapades you’re back to at least sleep.”

Charlie began to walk to the cliff side, the noise of the waves carrying over the receiver, “Look kiddo, don’t tell mom alright? I’m in with weird shit she doesn’t care for, I barely understand it myself.”

“Oh? What is it?” Harry’s voice perked up from bored to interested. “Gang stuff? Superhero stuff?”

“Magic shit, like beyond even the weirdness that goes with Carrie.”

“You’re okay right?” Harry asked tentatively. “Nobody’s holding a wand to your head right now?”

Charlie laughed when her chuckles subsided she returned to a more serious tone, “No. Carrie and I found… something this morning when we were heading back home. We found a Siren at the park, accidentally. She was hanging out in a tree.”

She flinched away the cellphone when Harry exclaimed, “GET ME A FEATHER! Please please, I can add it to my staff!”

“Shhh! Shut up, Gramps will hear you!”

Lowering her voice Harry said, “Pretty please.”

“Fine, but keep your big mouth shut okay? I’ll be busy trying to help her out, there’s this sorcerer who knows the guy who made her, really dark, horrifying stuff. Won’t go into detail, spare you the nightmares I’m going to have.” She said rubbing her arm and closing her eyes. “I’m not saying this to worry you, but sound the alarm when I don’t check in alright? If something bad happens I’ll make sure to leave a trail to follow.”

“You’re scaring me with this.” Harry said, quietly.

“I’ll be fine, I’m just covering my bases. I’ll go into detail when I’m home, but I’m feeling like that won’t be today. I’ll call tonight to check in.” Charlie tried to reassure Harry. “For now I’ve got a weird wizard to talk to.”

Harry took a deep breathe in, pushing away her worry. Trusting what she said. “Okay, love you. I’ll keep this on the down low from mom, might tell gramps. He might know a thing or two about Sirens.”

Charlie sighed with relief, “Thanks! I’ll spill the beans when I’m back home, promise.”

“You better. Talk to you later.”

Charlie said a quick bye, then hit the end button storing her phone away into one of her many pockets. Stealing a glance at the cottage and then at the woods, she went for the woods trekking across the field. Stopping when she felt an involuntary chill run down her spine, the wind was warm and the afternoon sun shone. The chill raised goosebumps across the nape of her neck.

Sharply she turned raising her staff defensively, seeing nothing behind her, she pivoted on the ball of her foot scanning left then right. She checked over her shoulder and Salamander left his spot, he hadn’t been shy about watching her.

Something was watching her now, she felt something’s eyes roam over her now that she hadn’t been distracted. “Piss off, googly eyes. I can’t see you but I sure as shit can feel you watching me. This ain’t a show." she snarled, backing away toward the treeline then bolted the last few yards. The chill disappeared as her foot crossed the line.

“Damnit…” She said under her breath, unsettled turning to check around through the forest she called out. “Yo! Salamander! We need to talk, pronto. I need to understand what’s going on, with Berry, with this necromancer asshole of yours. I’m here and I’m going to help her.” She pointed with her staff in the general direction of the cottage.

She turned on the spot looking for him, “I’m not some worldly, well-read witch or sorceress, but I’m one of the best alchemists in Lost Haven, so talk to me Sally-man.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Nitemare Shape}

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Time: 2:30 PM - Six hours of Walking Later
Location: Outside of Carver, Maine

Berenice was sweating, and her legs were burning with the most intense pain she could ever imagine. Her torturer had slowed pace for her several times, but it was not until they had finally entered the woods that she began to feel better. The fresher air had begun filtering to her more than an hour ago, and she had not realised how gross the skies above the city had felt until she made it back here to her home territory. Once they were out of sight of the suburbs, she perked up immensely, and actually quickened her pace despite her pain.

Her speech became rapid fire as she began pointing out landmarks that were almost invisible except to the creatures that lived here exclusively. ”See, Car-lee? Right there is the stain where I got three squirrels at once! Three! And just over there is one of the best rocks for sunning! Ooh, and in a few minutes we’ll see the creek I take baths in normally. The fish here are sooo much better than the ones I got you earlier!”

Charlie laughed, in a good mood herself. It’d been awhile since she had been outside the city for a good hike. After a full night of walking and then later a full morning of walking, Charlie had admitted she too was tired leaning heavily on her staff as she walked, thankful for the relief it gave. Not to mention hungry, she fished out a power bar from the bottom of her backpack. “I’m sure they are, glad we made it without a problem. The disguise went off without a hitch.” She took a deep breath of fresh air in, “I joke about getting out of the city, but I think I’d go crazy with the quiet out here. The serenity of it all.”

“Nice set up, though. Good place for a birdlady to do her thing.” Charlie commented. “I guess nobody bugs ya out here.”

”No, no one comes out this far. I do not know why, but I like it. Too many walkers and I would have to move. Oh, we are here!” They had emerged from a thick wall of trees out onto a promontory overlooking the ocean two hundred feet below. The sound of the surf, now unrestricted by dense foliage, sounded clearly as the waves continued their eternal war against the coast. Outside of the line of trees, only grass and wildflowers reigned. However, the grass was much less dry than most coastal grasses, lush and verdant. Bees hummed along on their busy runs, and several thrushes flitted about, catching and eating them.

On the tip of the promontory was the remains of a blasted cabin. It might have been a handsome log affair at one point, but splinters of wood scattered almost to the treeline attested to its violent destruction. One corner, facing out to the sea, had survived, along with a few stubs of walls. Between these were strung lines of ivy and scavenged strings, and from those dangled all of Berenice’s various treasures, mostly shiny objects and animal bones. To one side, in a pile that had collapsed down the hill a bit, was a pile of bones. None of them were human, but at least one skull among those was of a larger herbivore, perhaps a female deer.

Charlie followed behind Berenice, her old skirt catching some grass. Her hand brushing through it appreciatively as she walked. Marveling at the natural sight, her eyes settling on the cabin. She stepped into the not-so-humble abode. “Shit, Berry. You’re a scavenger too.” She said with delight, running a hand at the broken walls of the cabin. “This cabin though, it’s a total wreck. Do you know what happened?”

The alchemist didn’t think it was unreasonable to ask, but she figured the siren wouldn’t know.

Berenice shrugged noncommittally as she fluttered up to the corner, not caring about her disguise now that they were out of sight of normal people. ”I do not know. This is where I was born, I think. There are still some things from before, but I do not know what they are.” She gestured over to a spot underneath one section of surviving wall. There, covered by a torn section of tarpaulin, was a small cache of magical accouterments. Glass shards and broken alchemical bottles, some still stained with their contents, a broken stick or wand of some sort, a twisted and half-melted silver dagger, and, underneath the rest, still mostly buried under wreckage and apparently something the siren had missed and just happened to stack the rest of the junk on top of it, a charred, leather-bound tome.

Shuffling up her mask over her nose on reflex, her boots making prints in the disturbed dust on the ground. Her eyes on the wall. Charlie approached the wall lifting the tarpaulin up squinting at the contents behind it recognizing the odd assortment of items, especially the tome. She looked up to Berenice and asked, “Do you mind? I know what some of this stuff is.”

Berry shrugged again. ”I have no use for it, so go ahead. I am hungry. I will go get lunch.” She took off the beret, hanging it carefully on one of her treasure lines, and took off out towards the sea, soaring on the strong breeze coming off of the water.

Charlie watched her go, shielding her eyes from the kick up of her take off. She turned back around looking at her surroundings, the treasures, the bones, everything. There was some value to the shinier things she had hung up, metal and coins. Her foot shifted across the floorboards, her heel knocking once and twice for hollow spots as she checked the layout. Eventually rounding back to the wall, gathering up the old styled alchemical bottles. Her grandpa had a few of these kicking around at home for nostalgia’s sake. Her hand hovered over the silver dagger, feeling something strange coming off it. Picking it up curiously she squinted her thumb running across the smoothed melted metal. It seemed to resonate with the magic inside her, she tried to transmute the silver. The material refused to budge.

“Huh.” She said to herself putting the dagger aside finally moving onto the tome.

Brushing the dust off it she pulled it free from it’s hiding spot, opening it slowly with audible crack of burnt leather. She tried to pull some of the ash free from it, cleaning up the binds enough to let her open it without it falling apart. It was an understatement to say it was just in rough shape.

Sitting on her butt, crossing her long legs she flipped through the pages. Handwritten much like how many witches, sorcerers, and magic casters kept their own grimoires. She recognized some horrific rituals in English, Latin and even a little German in the anecdotes mixed generously. As she delved, her hands shook. Some passages were complete while others were destroyed by fire. Gruesome art depicting human shape being torn apart, terribly clinical notes on results of experimentation. She read on, near the end of the book there were scribbled notes and a faint sketch of Berenice’s face.

She bit at her lip beneath the mask, pained as she stared down at the sketch. This is beyond fucked up.

Her curiosity burned through her disgust, she turned the page. Jot notes about Berenice’s powers listed her ability to sing to scream, what damage she could approximately make. Guesswork mostly. Notes on what her creator really wanted to do with her as a servant or soldier. Silver mirrors being used to… control her? Disable her? It was extensive, no clues on who this necromancer used for Berenice’s creation.

“Fucker.” She muttered down at the page.

The next page was a sketch of the local area and what appeared to be the leylines, on the map was noted where the cabin was and a distinctly very strange funnel drawn directly from the leyline. In an underline next to the funnel was the word POWER.

A fat haddock slapped onto the ground directly in front of Charlie as the siren swept low overhead, and then perched back where she had been, another fish still struggling in her hands. She grinned at the alchemist, hair still dripping with seawater. ”These ones fought hard, so they should taste very good.” She punctuated the statement by biting deep into the spine of the fish she held, blood pouring forth as the creature died. Spitting out the chunk of bone and flesh, she said, ”I am sorry, I know walkers like their food burnt, but I do not know how to make fire and I think you like it less burnt than I could make it. Find anything you can use?” She looked at Charlie as she bit into her fish, watching politely for the response.

Charlie shot off the floor with a shriek at Berenice’s return, the tome flipped upside down and her staff held out. “I- I swear to fucking God, Berry! Fuck me!”

She held her chest hoping for her heart to slow down a pace. She looked up at her dripping head, blood stains from the fish around her mouth, reminding her all too well of the scary shit she finished reading about. Poking at the book with the end of her staff she said collecting her composure, “Found out quite a bit. You’re the result of some sick bastard’s experiment.”

She ignored the fish, pulling the mask down her jaw set in a hard line. “Frankenstein bullshit is what. Necromancy, leylines, human experimentation.” Stepping up to the book again she used her staff to flip it over, not willing to touch it with her hands. Stabbing at the page with Berenice’s sketch.

She was shocked at the vehemence in Charlie’s voice. ”I only barely know what those words mean, Car-lee. But it sounds bad. Does that mean I am bad?” She lowered her fish, staring at her companion with her golden eyes. ”I do not feel bad. But you sound...angry. Is it me?”

Charlie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in through her nose. From the day she spent with Berenice, she could say firmly that she wasn’t bad just her extremely volatile origins. Her instincts told her that much, rarely were they wrong. The alchemist licked her lips before answering, she looked up and right in her eyes. Letting there be no mistake, she meant what she said.

“No. You’re not bad, Berenice. Berry… You’re fine, a little rough around the edges but- people say the same about me. I’m angry at your creator, angry he-they-who the fuck ever decided it was a good idea to do this. Decided that human life meant nothing for the sake of his experiments.” She said, firm and with a warm conviction. “Let’s eat, then maybe I don’t know catch up with Carrie if I can get a decent signal.”

Charlie smiled picking up the fish with her bare hands, dusting off the best she could. “I just need a sharp stick.”

Berenice’s head snapped up as a sharp, echoing clap sounded across the ruins. Leaning up against the edge of the ruined wall was an old man, grizzled and bent, though still obviously capable of quick movement, as he had crossed into their space without either of them noticing. “Well spoken, child,” he said, in a commanding baritone. “Well spoken indeed. And that confirms you are not the little pissant that made her, so I don’t have to kill you.”

“Sh-Shit!” Charlie yelped, turning her back to Berenice and adopting a defensive position her staff held out with both hands, glaring at the man.

He rocked himself off of the wall with a twist of his hips, and the shabby overcoat he wore flipped open for a moment, revealing a well-worn sword hilt hanging at his hip. The man fairly oozed sorcerous power. “And, if I make the logical assumption of that speech that you are a genuinely good person and of sound judgement, then that means I do not have to kill her, either.” He nodded his head at Berenice, who had dropped her fish and flared her wings out, baring her teeth and the claws of her hands, clearly ready to defend Charlie and herself.

“Easy, girls. I am no enemy of yours,” he said, holding his hands up to show they were empty. “Rather, I would be after the one who created her. Seeing how, after all, he is my responsibility.” Behind him, still against the wall, leaned a staff much like Charlie’s, though covered in runes and bits of shamanic totems.

“Who the fuck are you?” Charlie snapped, her eyes roaming his body noting the sword, the staff, his build. Picking up on the way the air seemed to change with his entry. It became charged more so than what she noticed spending the day with Berenice. It prickled at her forehead. “Answer real quick, I haven’t a lick of control over Berry here.”

The man chuckled, clearly at ease. “You can call me Salamander. Everyone does these days. Don’t ask why, it’s an oldjoke. And to more clearly answer your question, I suppose you could say I am the siren’s grandfather, or as close as she’s like to get. I taught her maker most of what he knew. Or knows, perhaps.” He made a gesture, and the tome snapped through the air and into his hands. He flipped it open, still talking as he perused.

Charlie’s expression hardened at the show of force, her grip tightening on the staff her magic seeping into the wood, moving up to the copper she modified into it.

“I did not, however, teach him any of this. He left my endorsement some time ago, and I have been trying to find him, fearing what path he would likely take and hoping I was wrong. Unfortunately, I was not,” he glanced up at Berenice and his face radiated sorrow. “And some have suffered direly for my tardiness.”

“As for you, miss,” he said, turning his gaze to Charlie, “I am in your debt for caring for this poor creature. Had I found her before you, I may not have realised my error before putting her down as an abomination created by a mad man, instead of giving her a chance like I am now.” He dropped the book, which flared into bright blue flames and was more than half ash before it hit the ground.

“The name is Alchemyst, I read the book.” She said keeping eye contact shuffling her footing, ever so slightly. “So you’re in my debt eh? Does that mean a free ticket to leave?” She watched his expression, looking for signs of a liar. She knew she could use the various treasures Berenice had collected for their escape. Her own pocket was full of escape routes as well. She had no interest in fighting him, he clearly had control over his own brand of sorcery whatever it was. “Hardly believe a word you say, you’ve got some charisma about ya that is setting off alarm bells. Don’t trust you.”

She was plain, while her mind worked at the tin next.

Berenice, for her part, had frozen at the word ‘grandfather’. She knew the meaning well enough, but from what her two new friends had said, she wasn’t likely to have one. Her wings dropped and she relaxed slightly, but remained watchful.

“Oh, I won’t keep you here. You can leave if you want. But she,” he looked back at the siren, “cannot. Not yet, at any rate. She’s quite young, yes? She needs to learn control, conscious use of her power. I would not be surprised to learn that there were mistakes.” He sighed. “And given how she seems to be staying alive, what is keeping her together, she will need to know how to defend herself.”

He held up a hand, forestalling protestation. “I know, she can get by with friends, and I am not, right now, trustworthy. But I assure you, I mean neither of you any harm.” The tome had finished burning, leaving nothing behind. He kicked at it with one roughshod boot, growling under his breath. “And as it is, I need to make very sure my student does not return in any form to wreak more havoc on innocent lives.”

“As for the boon, I will leave it up to you what you might desire. I am a very old and very accomplished gatherer of secrets. I could teach you any number of things.”

Charlie chewed on what he said, finally after a moment she stood up straight, spinning the staff in her hand it hit floorboard with a large metallic thunk to stop. “You really think he could have survived this?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This place is a wreck. He would have had to cast some serious wards, already had some in place, whatever, to protect himself from all this damage. From what I read, he didn’t strike me as the type to not… take precautions.” Breaking eye contact with the man, Salamander, she looked to Berenice.

“He’s right about one thing though, Berry. You had no idea what you were doing with your voice earlier today when you sang, as knowledgeable as Carrie is I don’t think she can teach you to control what you can do.” She admitted quietly, “I hate to say it, because this guy is slick as oil. The choice is up to you, Berry. I’ll stay if you want to stay, I’ll crack this guy over the head if you asked me to. But, you get the final say on this.”

She tucked a little bit of hair behind Berenice’s ear, “You’re one of us, so we stick together yeah?”

Berenice stared at the man for a moment, and then at Charlie. Her tail feathers flicked while she thought, and she stood on one foot, and then the other, obviously struggling with the decision. She really knew neither of these people that well, but then, the children hadn’t known her and they were now her best friends. Her wings stretched out and closed back in close to her body.
”That is not necessary, Car-lee. Sally-man may be strange, but so are we. If I am one of us, so is he, yes?” The old man smiled, but her gaze flicked back to him.

”That does not mean I trust you, Sally-man. You may come to the edge of the woods from now on, no further. If you come into my nest again uninvited I will claw your eyes out of your head and eat them.” She hopped down from the top of the wall and down to stand next to Charlie. She offered a hand for a shake. ”You, my friend, are welcome to stay, if you wish. I will let the Sally-man stay if you want to learn things. But you must be tired.”

Charlie shook her hand smiling, the handshake at the top of the most normal thing she did all day today. “Exhausted, actually.” She pointed with her staff at Salamander. “Not tired enough to kick your ass if I need to.”

“Whatever I need to learn I learn from my own mentor. I don’t get much about other types of magic but sorcerers rarely understand alchemy even if they tried.” She added with no small amount of arrogance “He can hang out in the woods if he wants. The raw haddock is looking better by the second.”

The Salamander smiled genuinely, a glint in his eye. “Well, I will take my leave. I will return with the dawn, Siren.” He looked over at Charlie, and said with a wink, “If you ever have trouble with it, since I know a few alchemists who have, try a combination of sugar water, cellulose, and a good dose of a multivitamin if you would like your plants to be healthy in those dark winter months.” He laughed to himself and snatched his staff up as he walked off towards the woods.

Berenice looked at Charlie quizzically. “What does any of that mean, Car-lee?”

She snorted at his retreating back, “Yeah- well, I already knew that!” Then added, “And her name is Berenice!”

Then waited until he was well out of earshot, she whispered to Berenice, “The bastard knows how to alchemize photosynthesis. I’ve been begging my grandpa for years to teach me.”

”Do you think he was telling the truth? About my creator maybe still being alive. About…” She gulped down her thoughts for a second, and shook her head and retrieved her own fish, burying her face into it and eating in thoughtful silence.

Charlie went outside with a shrug, “Who knows, he’s weird. This entire scenario is weird. Might come up with some ideas after I eat.” With that said she built a fire, lighting it with the flint and steel in her backpack roasting the gutted fish over the fire.

A pair of new and terribly strange friends falling into their own thoughts, with an even stranger man at the edge of the woods with his own agenda.

Mass Effect: Borealis

A note for everyone during the mission, Dex is available to call to fudge past some basic security like doors, cameras and even some guards. Don't be afraid to just add that into the post, we do not need to collab a small exchange like that to gain access to certain parts of the station if your character needs to move around.