The Barker Street Irregulars case 2 A vision in pink

[walking stick]

Beety whispered "invisible thread trick" to Verity, sure she'd know it from the pantomime. Silently their matching gowns developed dropped threads, the thin lines of silk beneath the notice of their opponents.

[MWBailey]

Sullen but still cheeky, Bill Marley sent mentally through the Flock Bond.

Cor, stop'at, ye're makin' th' insoide o' me skull itch, ya great looby! I gets it, orlroight?

Say, Bill...

Bill actually sighed resignedly like a human through the Bond, Blimey, wot's it now?

Why do you always call me "Looby?"

Why-! Bill sounded exasperated in Marley's skull, which was developing a maddening interior itch of it's own, now.  I'ss cos uv yer always acts loike a bloody looby of a raven, an' 'cos i'ss wot yer goblin prince friend was a-corlin' ye when I first met ye, remember?,

Bill broke off as Verity's and Beety's gowns changed, subtly. "Cor, Sis, ye jus' gets prettier every toime I sees ye", he flirted out loud at Beety.

"Maybe not that cheeky, Bill," Marley said sotto voce, or as close to it as a raven's throat could manage.

[Ranger Reid]

In a dark room, a gaunt figure lay unmoving.  The need for bonds had long since past.  With scant food or water for so long, the man had held out his strength for days, but had finally began to weaken.  This had been hastened by bleeding the man at random.

It was when he failed to wake on their approach that the men began their attempts to take him over.  First they had tried simple poisons to finish breaking his physical strength.  When those failed to ruin him quickly enough, spells were added to augment the chemicals effect.  

Just as things seemed to be progressing, there was a flare, and the spells broke violently.   That was the first sign that something was protecting the man.

The Ink was sent for and injected into the man's arm.  Like a vile spiderweb, it slowly progressed up his arm.  Again a flare of power, and the ink shot out onto the floor.


The captors were at a loss.  They feared whatever was helping the man, and worried he might regain his strength.    So they had determined to kill him.  As a show of poetic justice, they decided to use his own blade.  

One of the men stepped forward with the middle blade, and plunged it into the man's chest.   And to their horror, it sank completely in and disappeared.

Seeing this, the men panicked.  They had to find out who or what was helping him.  They chose to let him rot a while so they could do some research.  When he had weakened enough, they would try the ink again.   Time was their ally.

Some days later, they made another attempt.  This time, a group of 5 drew a pentagram on the floor around him and stood at the points.  They made supplications to local powers, and asked for help from demonic beings.   As they shot the ink into the man's arm, it again began to show spider webs of taint up the man's arm.

Suddenly another flare of power, and like a glowing tattoo, the steel from the sword shot down the man's arm in a celtic knot pattern.   Three of the men dropped dead on the spot.

A chill went through the room and maniacal laughter rang out.      The ink spilled on the ground this time splattering in a pattern.    Black silken feathers like would be dropped by a Raven.

The remaining two men ran out and bolted the door, content to let the shattered man starve and die.

[Stella Gaslight]

Celia could not help herself and shuddered as they passed through a door in to the labs.  The world was so out of balance she very much expected to start walking on the ceiling.  She had felt like this only once before, at the heart of the summer cort where time meant nothing.   Every inch of her was screaming to get out quick.  How long had they been at this?  The ink was there rolling across the ceiling in thick vines going in to every room but one.  She wondered what dark thing they kept there.  They were led in to a room full of gilded frames with worn looking figures looking out from lush landscapes.  "Add them to the matrix and hurry along. I imagine you will want to dress for dinner."   Celia could feel the weigh in her chest again as if countless hours were bearing down upon her.  They had bound time magic in to all this and that was somthing she was unsure she could fight.  There was a figure bound on a table halfway behind a canvas.  A very beautiful young lady in a flowing pink tunic who seemed to be ensnared by vines that were feeding off cuts in her body.  It took everything Thomas had not to rush to her side.  "Don't tell me you are too drained to force the connection fine then I will do it."  The man in Gray said advancing.

[CPT_J_Percell]

Tempus Lupus stepped through the stone archway at the back of the oldest building in london. Something was effecting the time streams here and he was able unable to arrive via his normal pathways.
"I'm glad that you made it here, non of our people have been able to get back and are stranded in this time frame."
"Where are they now, Mr Smith?"
"I have them boarded in an Inn nearby."
"Why nearby?"
"I thought that if they were close, if we needed them then they would be on hand."
"Have you heard from Tobias or Miss Celia yet?"
"Nothing has been heard of them since they entered a museum."
"Are they not still there?"
"No, the place has been cleared out."

[MWBailey]

something was off about the place they'd entered; that much Marley was sure of. He searched his memory for similar feelings and sensations, but all he got was the way the world had felt with teh Unseelie Court in ascendancy before the humans had gained more than a toehold in the world. That far back, there was nothing but an intermittent Gyre and a world of ice and the prevalence of death and darkness.

There! That was it!  it was winter, a feeling not so much of cold, but of death before the new life has begun to struggle against the ice. That darkness , the unseen evil in that one room... it had the feel of a... sundial? A moondial?*, In any case, the feeling was of a static display that told and measured time but counted no hours of its own accord. A frozen reckoner, in truth.

...If, in fact, Marley was right. Reality and causality seemed to hang on that question in his mind.

Could be, Bruvver, Bill replied back through the bond, after Marley had explained it through that medium and again in slightly more detail in Ravenish; one of the Whites rapped the cage in irritation at their incessant croaking and quorking and rasping back and forth.

"Damned birds! shaddap already!"

Marley couldn't resist a tiny application of conflagration magic in rather petty retaliation. For the moment unnoticed by the White Knight or his fellows, the hem of the Knight's robe began to smolder, and then flames crawled up the back skirt of the robe as he walked away, the bits of flaming cloth that fell aqway igniting the straw on the floor, which inturn caught on a workbench to one side of the room.

Bill snickered in wicked delight at the sight. "Cor, but ye're a caution at toimes, Looby. Tha'll teach 'im..."

[Stella Gaslight]

"Damn it Luis. You failed to bind them properly. I will not stand for this incompetents!" The leader of the Gray robes charged at Celia not wanting for the prize to get away while the other brothers fought the flames. She was backed against a painting as he started to chant.  Celia could feel the solid canvas start to soften and roll.  All the while she pretended to be quaking in terror while formulating a simple plan.  She was very weak against time magic but who said she had to use magic? The twinkle in her eye told Beety just what she had in mind. Finishing his bit of overly theatrical magic he lunged forward to shove her in to the painting and it would of work if the cage had not vanished in to a golden mist and the supposedly docile woman rolled out of the way and planted a kick on his behind sending him tumbling in to the painting.  "That is just what you deserve you pompous blow hard." 

[MWBailey]

"AT 'EM BILL!" Marley roared, then, having shifted back to human form when the cage vanished.

He began marshalling and manifesting a directional firestorm of conflagration magic, while simultaneously linking the Burleigh with his Inklemann Repeater Repair Timer, setting up a counter-temporal vortex that began immediately to eat away at the Gyre-destroying stasis imposed by teh Whites. Little by little the overwhelming wrongness of the monastery shifted into a sensation more in keeping with Temporal Balance, as Bill seemd to stay a raven - yet also, morph into something larger, an effect that was only visible out iof the corner of one's eye; if one looked at him directly with normal sight, he seemed as diminutive as ever, but the energies blasting frim him were huge. Although, they were also somehow discrete and controlled; they were almost like bursts of wild music...

But the effect of Marley's new vortex was slow; something else seemed to need doing to fix things. The Old Bridge! He suddenly remembered. The one they tore down!, The demise of that bridge had freed the Thames' flow and made it difficult for ice to form and get locked up between it and London Bridge, thus ending the possibilities for future freeeze-overs and thus in turn any more Frost Festivals (and secretly, by the design of the organization that would become the Knights Temporal, creating a more permanent Gyre). The ice had formed on the first bridge, then broken loose and become lodged on the next, damming the flow, making it sluggish to still, thus making complete freezing possible, which then slowed the rest of the river upstream, allowing it to freeze as well).

The new Gyre-healing vortex created and kept nominally safe in his vest pockets, Marley began to search, while also fighting the Whites, for something which was serving the same purpose as the Old Bridge, something that hindered the river's flow...

[CPT_J_Percell]

Tobias drew a sword out from under his robes, but instead of the dress Longsword that he normally carried, this one had a curved blade that was a normal trait of elven craft. the blade glowed with an unearthly light. He rolled the blade onto its side, brought it up to shoulder height and in a blur of movement removed the head of one of the robe wearers and in one step, approached another, his sword a blur of controlled action.

[Stella Gaslight]

Celia exhaled and the flames stilled moving as sluggishly as syrup on a cold day. It was like the strike against the monks had knocked loose the discomfort in her chest and her power was flowing again.  She flicked a wrist and all the empty paintings rippled.  So much for needing that awkwardly complex chant Celia thought   "Herd them back here so we can get them stowed away quick before we have even more swarming us."

[Steampunk Away]

Before Tobias could successfully decapitate the other robed minion, the minion's head exploded into a thousand pieces, courtesy of Abraham's now empty Dragoon Revolver.

"That is for shooting me, elf boy."

Abraham reloaded quickly, quicker than should be possible for someone with his sized fingers.

"The gods of my country are aiding us, we should move now, before our favor, luck, and opportunity run out," said the giant that was Abraham, who brandished his gun while leading the way through the dungeon.

[CPT_J_Percell]

Tobias reached down, grabbed a handful of robe and wiped his sword clean. When he straightened up he was smiling, "I can't have all the fun can I old man?" Replacing the sword in its scabbard, he adjusted his own robes and followed Abraham out the door.

[Stella Gaslight]

Thomas had run to the figure on the slab as soon as the fighting started.  The vines tore bits of his disguise away like paper as he tugged trying to remove them from the sleeping woman.  He nearly jumped out of his skin as Celia touched his arm.  "Let me have a go at it."  The vines were thick and thorny but they moved to meet her hand.  Interested Celia called light in her hand and the vine struck with a quickness that almost knocked her back.  "These things eat magic so what I am going to do is give them a tasty bit of bait and you have to grab her as quick as you can because I don't know how long I can keep it busy."  She summoned London and the vines exploded in to movement thrashing and fighting to have a go at the golden figure. The whole ceiling started to thrash and chase her.  The vines doubled as new ink poured from the ceiling.  "I think we had better run."  Celia dashed toward Abraham swirling blackness on her heels.  "We have to get away from this mess for a moment so I can hopefully calm this down.  There!"  She pointed to the one door without ink above it,  It might be out of the frying pan in to the fire but at least there would be less ink to fight off.

[walking stick]

Thomas used the golden cage as protection whilst he worked to free his love. Various objects previously buried or barricaded by vines became exposed as all the ink headed for Celia.  There was a bubble of time draining to reveal two swords  Beety took the larger one, Verity the other.
"Cut low Verity I'll cut high" said Beety as they took rearguard backing towards the unknown door.  The vines sizzled and flinched wherever the swords hit.

[Stella Gaslight]

 Celia shouldered open the heavy oak door and was taken aback by the smell of blood.  Inside was full of torture devices and deep shadows. She found it distasteful but at least it was free of monks.  Celia took a moment to catch her breath and gasped.  There was a body on a slab across the room that she was fairly sure was dead judging from the blade sticking out of its chest.  Celia crossed the room to close the poor thing's eyes.  She let out an pained moan as she recognized the face.  It was Reid cut all over and looking bloodless.  Tears came to her eyes and her hands shook as Celia tried to remove the blade.  "No no no." She repeated and without intending to a fog made of sadness and pain formed and spread out in to the hall.

[Steampunk Away]

Abraham pushed past Celia and grasped the blade sticking out if Reid's chest.

"You go help Thomas. I'll handle this," and looking at Tobias, "I am not old".

Abraham's pendent started glowing, and the Nord put his hand next to the wound, and the would started glowing.

And with a forceful pull, Abraham pulled the blade from the chest of the cowboy, but healed it until there was nothing but a small 2 inch scar as a reminder.

"Thank me later Cowboy."

[Ranger Reid]

As the hilt pulled away from the dessicated husk, it became clear that the blade had been shorn off.  There was no sign of the rest of the metal.   The ranger struggled to take in a ragged breath.  A dull light pulsed along his skin in a flickering pattern of celtic knotwork.   

The man tried to open his eyes but the crusted blood held them shut.   "Water." it was an almost unintelligible croak.

[Stella Gaslight]

It took Celia approximately four heartbeats to turn on her heel and summon a pool of water from the most pure spring she could think of .   Seven more had her calling a silver goblet to her hand from it's place of honor on her mantle at the club.  Within ten she had the cup to his lips.  "Welcome back to the land of the living."

[Ranger Reid]

Reid was unsure whether this was another trick of his tormentors, or another attempt by the Morgain to protect his mind, or simply a hallucination.   It didn't matter.  His thirst overrode his confusion, and he drank.    The simple effort of swallowing was almost enough to make him pass out again.   

The ranger pushed through the pain and forced his eyes open.   The room was dark, which probably was for the best.   Reid turned his head slightly, looked at Celia, and whispered raggedly  "Who..................   are............  you?"

[Stella Gaslight]

"Oh darling ." She said quietly badly worried about the state he was in.  "It is Celia.  I don't know what they did to you but I promise to take you home safe soon."  She had started to think of the club as his home rather than somewhere he was staying for a holiday.  Celia hoped he would come to think of it the same way.  Already he was a part of her life and every morning she couldn't wait to talk to him over breakfast.  "Let me help you sit up and then we see how I can help."

[Ranger Reid]

A panic crazed look crossed Reid's face.   "Celia?   I don't know any......"   He tried to raise his arms to block her, but his strength failed him and the wretched man passed out.       In the dim light a silver colored skittering image of Celtic knot-work flashed across the man's features.   

[Stella Gaslight]

"Beety please!  I need your help. Reid is in a bad way!" There was a bit of panic in her voice that Celia was working hard to keep on it's leash. He was not going to die here, they were not going to win.

[Steampunk Away]

"It is the Morrigan. She has him. Switch roles, I'll help Thomas, you help Reid," Abraham pushed put the door, to be greeted by the statue of Thomas cradling the woman, both covered in vines.

Abraham quickly rummaged through Verity's bag.

"Hey," said the young artist, concerned he might be a turncoat again, "get out of there!"

Abraham withdrew the bottle of thinner. It was nearly empty.

He pulled back his arm, and threw it at the sealing as hard as possible.

A loud crash was made as the bottle met its mark, and the vines started slowly withering, but the ceiling started shaking as well.

"Verity, fix them, then follow me."

[Stella Gaslight]

They made him a wheelchair out of golden sparks and Celia insisted on putting every protection she could think of in it.  Those marks on his skin were either a good or a bad sign but until he came around and was coherent there was no way to know which was right.  It scared her how important he had become to her in such a short time.  Celia looked at Beety wondering where to begin with what was happening in her heart.  "I think I l..."  She trailed off feeling silly and tried very gently to lift him.

[MWBailey]

Marley picked up a sword from a nearby overturned rack. He took in the Ranger's overall state, put two and two together with the surroundings, what was happening now, what happened before, and the White Order's infamous ways of doing things, and realized in his head, This must be.

"Lady Celia," he said, "I know it seems hard and unfeeling of me, but there are some things which must simply be; time and causality would collapse without them. I fear that Mr. Reid's condition may be one such thing, that it may be not only more difficult than we can immediately manage to put right, but also it may in fact be inadvisable to try to do so. Things happen for a reason, milady - And I've   said it before, will again, and have heard even yourself and the others say it time and again: Magic won't solve everything."

"But magic will take care of some things. We've got work yet to do, and my magic's almost gone; the only thing holding me upright is Bill's lending. I can still fight, but not with magic - or rather, not my own. and I despise sucking it out of others." He drew his service revolver. "We need to find what's keeping the enemy's Winter in place and do away with it or all this will be in vain. Pardon my presumption, but if you love that man, then fight for a future where you'll have a chance to win him again. He bowed, and with Bill on his shoulder, turned away to begin looking for the Anchor of the enemy's enchantments...