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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

Rather, he's dressed more like a druid, and one who's magic wasn't quite up to keeping all of the airborne dirt off the material.
'whose'
"Supposedly, it's proof that life is inherently meaningless, self-defeating and self-destructive. This infected are prone to obedience and joyful fatalism."
'Those infected'?
If this was Erebos I'd leave it like that because the shades would have eternity to shovel it, but since in Otherworld they only have a normal lifespan I should probably… I use a series of crane grab bucket constructs to roughly fill in the holes the fight causes before heading after my team.
I am surprised to learn that they are actually called crane grab buckets. Feels like a really clunky name.
He knows little of modernity, and his magic is such that he is hardly human any longer. He serves our line more as a oracle than a magician."
'an oracle'
Wicca is probably close enough to the original Celtic practices to send people here, but that's… About it, really.
I was surprised to learn that there are almost a million Wiccans according to Wikipedia, but I imagine that they're much less pious than the Celts on average, as well as being much less numerous than the Celts, and some of them probably believe in stuff that doesn't 'count' properly for going to Otherworld.
 
I was surprised to learn that there are almost a million Wiccans according to Wikipedia, but I imagine that they're much less pious than the Celts on average, as well as being much less numerous than the Celts, and some of them probably believe in stuff that doesn't 'count' properly for going to Otherworld

Wicca isn't a singular religion.

There are a dozen different interpretations of what it is and it tends to include practices and beliefs from a lot of different religions and regions.

Celtic practices are present and prominent, but you can also find practices and beliefs from old Norse religions, old Egyptian religions, Native American religions etc.

So yeah, a person can be Wiccan but may do things a lot differently compared to another Wiccan.
 
She sticks her head… Out of my shadow. "Fine! I'll come out when you get there."

She ducks back down, my shadow rippling as she does so. I can't feel anything, but I can't help but feel a little disturbed. And from the look on M'gann's face, she feels the same way. I shrug, and we take off after Mr. Marrack with Brannan supported by a stretcher construct.
I wonder how long or often she'll be doing that. She's eaten food from both the Otherworld and Earth, and the fact that she wanted food from Earth might be meaningful (id est she might not be as trapped in the Otherworld as suggested). If Shard Mercury resents Main Mercury enough, she might do things to try to distinguish herself that could lead to her being around Paul after this mission... or maybe I'm tired and reading to much into this.
 
I suspect a lot of the old magical traditions and beliefs will come back when it turns out they helped in protecting people form the Anti-Life.

Which brings me to: what are Hepheastian and the others doing? Is there an area in Greece that is protected?
 
I suspect a lot of the old magical traditions and beliefs will come back when it turns out they helped in protecting people form the Anti-Life.

Which brings me to: what are Hepheastian and the others doing? Is there an area in Greece that is protected?
As far as we know the Greek God's closed up shop and left.
 
I suspect a lot of the old magical traditions and beliefs will come back when it turns out they helped in protecting people form the Anti-Life.

Which brings me to: what are Hepheastian and the others doing? Is there an area in Greece that is protected?
The entire island chain of Themiscyra vanished and the ocean filled in the hole left behind.
Who knows what the Olympians are doing.
 
Wait Time (part 10)
17th February 2013
14:20 GMT


'Hall' is right. The main building itself looks like an Iron Age longhouse, only better in the same way that Themysciran buildings are better than their actual Iron Age equivalents. Cernunnos has had thousands of years to work on the place after all, with all the skill and magic that he could bring to bear. But continuing the godly tradition of primitivism it's wood and stone and slate; no bricks or roofing tiles. And continuing the tradition of the Iron Age it's smaller than most modern primary schools.

The settlement around it continues the 'abandoned' theme of the villages nearby, except for a group of slightly oversized people sharing Brannan's build and… Yes, those are elves, wearing a glamour of ridiculous leaf-themed armour and generally looking like they've been heavily photoshopped. They'd probably look like beings of unearthly beauty to an Iron Age people, but between improved diets, makeup and the people I spend time with being at the end of the bell curve of attractiveness anyway-

M'gann glances at me with a smile.

-it doesn't really hit as hard. Plus, if I remember Sandman correctly they're all pretty plain under the illusion.

**What? You are.**

**I'm a shapeshifter who copied a human girl she saw on TV.**

**[The systems of emotions and desires I see in the people around me.]**

M'gann dips in the air in surprise, getting a concerned look from Kon before she stabilises.

**Is that what we look like to you?**

**Unless I make an effort to ignore it. Though in point of fact, I've learned enough about Martian desires to know-**

She goes pink.

**-that you're not exactly hard on the eyes in your default form either.**

**We.. can shapeshift away the parts we don't like easier.**

"I will warn you, be careful with the elves." Mr. Marrack has lost whatever mildness his tone had before. "They are deceitful and capricious. Watch your manners and watch your words."

A round of nods and he leads the way down towards the great hall. As we land, an oversized man and women rush over to where I place the stretcher construct, the woman checking on Brannan and the man looking towards us -Mr. Marrak in particular- for an explanation.

"We were able to free him of the spell. He should awaken presently."

The man breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Captain. I thought that we had lost him."

"We recovered him. I have not found the rest, and will not rest until I do."

"You have my people's gratitude." He looks around our group. "All of you do." His eyes rest on Robert's white-cross-on-black-background, his head nodding in acknowledgement.

"Has there been any further sign of the one who did that to him?"

The man shakes his head. "No sign. The ground does not remember their passing, nor the air remember their breaths. And more mundane searches showed nothing either." He turns his head towards the woman. "Eadgyth, is the boy well?"

"Better than he has any right to be. He fought holding naught back, surging his magic freely. He should be tired to the bone, but he breathes easily."

I nod. "We used a minor restorative potion on him. Hopefully, we'll be able to question him about what happened."

"Aye." Brannan pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing as he does so. "That you can. That-. Voice. It was telling me-."

"That your life was inevitably self-destructive?"

His eyes dart around as he tries to get his head around what happened to him. "It sounded like it made sense."

Richard nods. "I know what you mean. I got hit a few weeks ago and it was… Like nothing had any.. real.. meaning."

"It had meaning. Whatever he told me-."

He winces again, and Richard's eyes narrow.

"Mannheim."

Brannan nods, slowly.

Robert frowns. "Great granddad, have they been building any… They look like radio towers, only the closer you get, the louder the Anti-Life is in your head."

"No. I have seen nothing like that. Otherworld may look like Earth, but the rules by which it operates are subtly different. I don't think that they could simply bring their transmitters here and expect them to function in the same way."

"Are you sure?" His grandfather's face hardens. "I-I mean, they've been putting them in standing stone circles on Earth. I don't think they'd do that if they weren't getting something out of it."

"No. I don't suppose that they would. There are connections from Otherworld to Earth, which the fae may use to travel or project their magics. But it is not a simple matter to use them in the manner you describe. Do they have a highly skilled magician would could manage the connection?"

Richard shakes his head. "Not as far as we know."

"One of the fae?"



Richard and I look at each other, coming to the realisation at the same time.

"Speak."

"No. Not a fae, exactly. But there's a good chance that they could have picked up… They call themselves 'sheeda'."

"I care not for the court they hail from."

"No, they're-. They're from the far future. Humans with.. bits of other things added on. I don't know if fae was part of the makeup, but they definitely had a… Dark fairy aesthetic. Robert, where was Britain keeping their sheeda prisoners?"

"We were keeping them in a prison camp on Salisbury Plain. Then they got moved somewhere else." He shakes his head. "Dunno where."

"The same sort of 'dunno' like where the conspicuously absent government superhero team were based?"

"I-. Maybe? Granddad, do you-?"

"Castle Baaleskein. The former owner was a minor magician, and he stated that he intended to leave it to the government to serve as a base of operations for supernatural operatives. It had the facilities to house a great many prisoners, though in my day it never had more than a handful. While its owner was there it was almost inviolable, but without him I could see it being breached by an intelligent foe."

"Alright then. Working theory is that sheeda have enough elf in them to use the fae-friendly connection points. How do we stop them?"

Horns ring out in a cheerful and grandiose fanfare as the elves march prance towards us, their blonde-haired leader grinning with a pompous smugness that looks weirdly out of place outside of a melodrama. It doesn't even annoy me, it's just too-.

Kon leans towards me. "Is that guy for real?"

It's too ridiculous-looking.

"Provisionally, yes."

An elven herald darts ahead and pulls out a scroll.

"Hail Lord Cluracan, sublime in grace and subtle in mien. Hail the ambassador of the Court of the Faerie!"

Their leader -Lord Cluracan, presumably- steps forward and takes a bow.

I clap, and after a moment so does the rest of my team.

He doesn't appear to get the joke.
 
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17th February 2013
14:20 GMT


'Hall' is right. The main building itself looks like an Iron Age longhouse, only better in the same way that Themysciran buildings are better than their actual Iron Age equivalents. Cernunnos has had thousands of years to work on the place after all, with all the skill and magic that he could bring to bear. But continuing the godly tradition of primitivism it's wood and stone and slate; no bricks or roofing tiles. And continuing the tradition of the Iron Age it's smaller than most modern primary schools.
Relatively speaking. I expect it's bigger than some one-room small-town demountable. Probably a bit more like a mid-size community hall. Still, You'd expect Cernunnos to have something a little more impressive, unless it's inimical to his nature.

The settlement around it continues the 'abandoned' theme of the villages nearby, except for a group of slightly oversized people sharing Brannan's build and… Yes, those are elves, wearing a glamour of ridiculous leaf-themed armour and generally looking like heavily photoshopped. They'd probably look like beings of unearthly beauty to an Iron Age people, but between improved diets, makeup and the people I spend time with being at the end of the bell curve of attractiveness anyway-
Yes, especially the Kryptonian beefcake and martian cheesecake. :p Hopefully the Elves don't strain themselves trying to look that good.

M'gann glances at me with a smile.

-it doesn't really hit as hard. Plus, if I remember Sandman correctly they're all pretty plain under the illusion.
It's fascinating that the Elves developed such an ability and instinct in the first place.

**What? You are.**

**I'm a shapeshifter who copied a human girl she saw on TV.**
So? You're a talented shapeshifter, being able to copy a flat image of someone. Even if you had multiple angles, it can be tricky to align them right.

**[The systems of emotions and desires I see in the people around me.]**

M'gann dips in the air in surprise, getting a concerned look from Kon before she stabilises.
Yeah, that's probably just a bit overwhelming.

**Is that what we look like to you?**

**Unless I make an effort to ignore it. Though in point of fact, I've learned enough about Martian desires to know-**
Ooh, I bet that might get a little distracting, knowing just what each person finds hot.

She goes pink.

**-that you're not exactly hard on the eyes in your default form either.**
Green or white. And despite their looks, there are no doubt Humans who would.

**We.. can shapeshift away the parts we don't like easier.**

"I will warn you, be careful with the elves." Mr. Marrak has lost whatever mildness his tone had before. "They are deceitful and capricious. Watch your manners and watch your words."
Polite but not too stand-offish, eh? And make no agreements or compacts.

A round of nods and he leads the way down towards the great hall. As we land, an oversized man and women rush over to where I place the stretcher construct, the woman checking on Brannan and the man looking towards us -Mr. Marrak in particular- for an explanation.

"We were able to free him of the spell. He should awaken presently."
Ah, the family. Which kind of makes me wonder if children can be born here, and what happens to them. Do they reincarnate in the real world when they pass away here?

The man breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Captain. I thought that we had lost him."

"We recovered him. I have not found the rest, and will not rest until I do."
Careful about making such open-ended promises, Graham. You know such things can be binding in places like this. Though i suppsoe he probably could stay awake for weeks here anyway because magic.

"You have my people's gratitude." He looks around our group. "All of you do." His eyes rest of Robert's white-cross-on-black-background, his head nodding in acknowledgement.

"Has there been any further sign of the one who did that to him?"
Which could be useful information in finding the incursion source...

The man shakes his head. "No sign. The ground does not remember their passing, nor the air remember their breaths. And more mundane searches showed nothing either." He turns his head towards the woman. "Eadgyth, is the boy well?"

"Better than he has any right to be. He fought holding naught back, surging his magic freely. He should be tired to the bone, but he breathes easily."
I hope that name is pronounced something like 'Edith' because wow, Celtic names can read like someone dipped a spoon in alphabet soup. :p

I nod. "We used a minor restorative potion on him. Hopefully, we'll be able to question him about what happened."

"Aye." Brannan pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing as he does so. "That you can. That-. Voice. It was telling me-."
Ah, good, no lasting damage... Beyond a little PTSD.

"That your life was inevitably self-destructive?"

His eyes dart around as he tries to get his head around what happened to him. "It sounded like it made sense."
Yes, it's very good at doing that. Don't be ashamed that you succumbed.

Richard nods. "I know what you mean. I got hit a few weeks ago and it was… Like nothing had any.. real.. meaning."

"It had meaning. Whatever he told me-."
Let's head off that train of thought, eh, lad?

He winces again, and Richard's eyes narrow.

"Mannheim."
Just add it to the long list of grievances he's building up.

Brannan nods, slowly.

Robert frowns. "Great granddad, have they been building any… They look like radio towers, only the closer you get, the louder the Anti-Life is in your head."
At least Graham is recent enough to know what a radio tower actually is. A couple more generations back and they'd likely need a picture...

"No. I have seen nothing like that. Otherworld may look like Earth, but the rules by which it operate are subtly different. I don't think that they could simply bring their transmitters here and expect them to function in the same way."

"Are you sure?" His grandfather's face hardens. "I-I mean, they've been putting them in standing stone circles on Earth. I don't think they'd do that if they weren't getting something out of it."
Given the nature of this place, it might like fumigating a building. It might not go quickly, but it'll reach every corner eventually.

"No. I don't suppose that they would. There are connections from Otherworld to Earth, which the fae may use to travel or project their magics. But it is not a simple matter to use them in the manner you describe. Do they have a highly skilled magician would could manage the connection?"

Richard shakes his head. "Not as far as we know."
Which doesn't rule out Mannheim acquiring such and managing to keep them functional enough to do the job...

"One of the fae?"



Richard and I look at each other, coming to the realisation at the same time.
...Craaaap. They may be creepy future 'elves', but... They might be close enough to actual elves to count.

"Speak."

"No. Not a fae, exactly. But there's a good chance that they could have picked up… They call themselves 'sheeda'."
And more than one country has had captives sitting around since the attempted Harrowing. Which means they got a dose of Anti-Life like everyone else...

"I care not for the court they hail from."

"No, they're-. They're from the far future. Humans with.. bits of other things added on. I don't know if fae was part of the makeup, but they definitely had a… Dark fairy aesthetic. Robert, where was Britain keeping their sheeda prisoners?"
Hopefully in a deep, dark hole... Especially since they Sheeda may well be better adapted to Anti-Life due to their own culture.

"We were keeping them in a prison camp on Salisbury Plain. Then they got moved somewhere else." He shakes his head. "Dunno where."

"The same sort of 'dunno' like where the conspicuously absent government superhero team where based?"
...Craaap again.

"I-. Maybe? Granddad, do you-?"

"Castle Baalskein. The former owner was a minor magician, and he stated that he intended to leave it to the government to serve as a base of operations for supernatural operatives. It had the facilities to house a great many prisoners, though in my day it never had more than a handful. While its owner was there it was almost inviolable, but without him I could see it being breached by an intelligent foe."
...And that name, or that description maybe, sounds eerily familiar. Not the same place the Renegade got dragged off to back in the day?

"Alright then. Working theory is that sheeda have enough elf in them to use the fae-friendly connection points. How do we stop them?"

Horns ring out in a cheerful and grandiose fanfare as the elves march prance towards us, their blonde-haired leader grinning with a pompous smugness that looks weirdly out of place outside of a melodrama. It doesn't even annoy me, it's just too-.
No doubt trying to dazzle the newcomers with his charm and grace.

Kon leans towards me. "Is that guy for real?"

It's too ridiculous-looking.
Too bad they've seen better, and not been fooled by them.

"Provisionally, yes."

An elven herald darts ahead and pulls out a scroll.
Let's hope it's a short list of titles. I suspect OL would like this sorted out before dinnertime.

"Hail Lord Cluracan, sublime in grace and subtle in mien. Hail the ambassador of the Court of the Faerie!"

Their leader -Lord Cluracan, presumably- steps forward and takes a bow.
Ah, another familiar name. Let's hope he's not too drunk today.

I clap, and after a moment so does the rest of my team.

He doesn't appear to get the joke.
'A peculiar response, but not unappreciated.'

Ah, this should be interesting. Hopefully the elves might actually be of use in this situation. I doubt they want the land being invaded any more than the humans do. It's likely that they can't do much to the Justified, who probably ignore any attempted illusions and can outfight most of their armies. So perhaps OL can win a favour from the crown. Though that may come with its own problems...


...government superhero team where based?"
...government superhero team were based?"
 
Otherworld may look like Earth, but the rules by which it operate are subtly different.
'operates'?

Edit: I'm now wondering how the Cornwall bloodline thing works. Captain Cornwall here must've had a wife at some point, so did she end up in Otherworld too? Did she reincarnate or end up in a different afterlife? And now I'm wondering how it works if one of the generations happens to have twins, though maybe that's be prevented by something-something magic.
 
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Thank you, corrected.
Edit: I'm now wondering how the Cornwall bloodline thing works. Captain Cornwall here must've had a wife at some point, so did she end up in Otherworld too? Did she reincarnate or end up in a different afterlife?
No. Heaven.
And now I'm wondering how it works if one of the generations happens to have twins, though maybe that's be prevented by something-something magic.
Doesn't happen.
 
Their leader -Lord Cluracan, presumably- steps forward and takes a bow.

I clap, and after a moment so does the rest of my team.

He doesn't appear to get the joke.
Like telling a toddler "good job" after using the toilet on their own. Praise the elves for walking all this way, for magnanimously sacrificing their time and attention.
 
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What would happen if both father and son die and there's no other male?

Would a daughter or cousin give birth to a male that gets the family magic?

Like telling a toddler "good job" after using the toilet in their own. Praise the elves for walking all this way, for magnanimously sacrificing their time and attention.

The guy is a drunk, so it is impressive that he made it all the way there.
 
"Castle Baalskein. The former owner was a minor magician, and he stated that he intended to leave it to the government to serve as a base of operations for supernatural operatives. It had the facilities to house a great many prisoners, though in my day it never had more than a handful. While its owner was there it was almost inviolable, but without him I could see it being breached by an intelligent foe."

...And that name, or that description maybe, sounds eerily familiar. Not the same place the Renegade got dragged off to back in the day?
Finding this was complicated by the fact that Baalskein does not match the spelling in the previous appearances and doesn't actually appear in the fic (at least up to my current combined file, which goes up to 3 December 2022) so I searched for "castle" instead. In Escalation Part 19, the castle Renegade was teleported to (first seen in Escalation Part 8), Cursitor Doom's castle, is referred to as Castle Doom. In Embattled Part 3 and Part 14 there is reference to a Castle Baaleskine (Note the different spelling. This spelling is the one that shows up in the Penny Dolmann article on the DC Fandom wiki, but then, it's a wiki, so I don't know which is actually canon.) "a Scottish castle recently recovered from the Home Office", which from context may be the same castle, but I'm not actually sure. For those who may wish to re-read, Escalation and Embattled are both on Thread 12 on SV.
 
Finding this was complicated by the fact that Baalskein does not match the spelling in the previous appearances and doesn't actually appear in the fic (at least up to my current combined file, which goes up to 3 December 2022) so I searched for "castle" instead. In Escalation Part 19, the castle Renegade was teleported to (first seen in Escalation Part 8), Cursitor Doom's castle, is referred to as Castle Doom. In Embattled Part 3 and Part 14 there is reference to a Castle Baaleskine (Note the different spelling. This spelling is the one that shows up in the Penny Dolmann article on the DC Fandom wiki, but then, it's a wiki, so I don't know which is actually canon.) "a Scottish castle recently recovered from the Home Office", which from context may be the same castle, but I'm not actually sure. For those who may wish to re-read, Escalation and Embattled are both on Thread 12 on SV.
The Renegade didn't know what the proper name of the castle was. The disappearing 'e' is due to different wikis spelling it differently. Let me just consult the original source...

Yep, the version with an 'e' is correct. I'll just change that.
What would happen if both father and son die and there's no other male?
That's the end of the line.
Would a daughter or cousin give birth to a male that gets the family magic?
No.
 
And Hierarch Mael of the Cult of Taal isn't keen on the whole 'living inside buildings' thing and I'm trying to avoid having more gods angry with me
Now, at first glance, one would assume that those deities he would be concerned about would be the Chaos Gods, but given that Paolo DESPISES those psychic parasites, I reckon he's talking about one or more of the "Order" aligned deities.

Hmmm, don't the Asrai, the Wood Elves, during their "Wild Hunt" have a habit for wanton indiscriminate killing as a supernatural stress release for Athel Loren, and stealing human children from the peasants of Bretonnia which they then turn into servants, made ageless by magic?

Yeah, I DEFINITELY could see Paolo turning Orion, avatar of Kurnous, along with his Wild Riders into servant constructs if any of them DARED to direct their slaughtering horde at HIS growing town/city, pissing off the god of The Hunt, as well as Isha indirectly.
 
Wait Time (part 11)
17th February 2013
14:24 GMT


He bows like an actor receiving a standing ovation, hair cascading over his face in a perfectly even wave, then moving back into place as he stands upright. His eyes move-.

Ring, did he just see me and decide to make himself look taller?

This ring cannot evaluate subject motives. Apparent height shifted after subject looked at Lantern.

So, yes.

Correlation does not prove causation.

"Hail, friends." He throws his arms out in a pitch perfect piece of overacting. "I understand that you have a grievous need of our guidance and leadership, to prevent your people being preyed upon by a dastardly dark god." He shrinks his smile to something a little less risible and he makes eye contact with me. "But where are your manners. Won't you give me your name, stranger?"

I don't roll my eyes, but I do close them for a moment.

"In the interests of avoiding having the Ophidian eat you, no. Instead, I will tell you what it is and give you a creative commons license to use it as necessary in conversation or documentation."

Lord Cluracan sweeps past me and smiles at Mitchell.

"If that one intends to be oafish, might I ask for your name instead?"

Mitchell shrugs. "We all know that joke. We think you're asking us to tell you what our name is, then suddenly we can't remember our own name because you own it. Everyone who knows anything about fairies knows that. Why do you even ask? It's like the Sphinx's Riddle." Lord Cluracan appears to have spaced out slightly. "I guess if you asked enough people you'd probably find someone who hasn't heard it eventually, but I'm pretty sure Captain Cornwall would have jumped in if we were going to say something we shouldn't."

Stone cold.

"Yes, well done!" The smile is back, and the other elves… Appear not to have changed their expressions. Are they actually here? I mean, I heard the sound, but it's perfectly possible to feign any sensory input using a glamour. "It is nice to see that humans are still learning the old lore."

"I mean, I'm not human, but okay."

Ring, did you hear the trumpets a moment ago?

Logs indicate 'yes'.

Hm. But you have processing capacity. It's perfectly possible that you're affected as well. Scan for ground pressure under their feet.

Within predicted parameters.

And the impressions for the steps they've already taken?

Not found.

Hah!

Mr. Marrack appears to decide that he's had enough tomfoolery. "Do you know where they are operating? It is imperative that we find this… Mannheim, and stop him as swiftly as possible."

"It may be that I do." He affects an expression of what I think is supposed to be mock-offence, except that he's trying to convey that he is offended. Another exaggeration. "But I'm feeling a little put-upon at the moment."

Now, I don't know for certain that the other elves don't exist. They might be disguising their own tracks. It would hardly be surprising for a diplomatic envoy to be accompanied by elite special forces. So how do I test it? Seeing their desires isn't reliable because my vision is already being spoofed. Enkindling their desires won't do anything because they don't have any. Stabbing them in the foot while Cluracan is distracted might work, but equally he might sense it and have them respond appropriately.

"Then grow up. You are just as vulnerable to his attacks as we are." Mr. Marrack glances at me. "Or more so. And if what these heroes say is true, they are blocking off your access to Earth. That means little to a dead man like me, but for your people I imagine that would be inconvenient."

Cluracan rolls his neck, raising his arms in a gesture of appeal. "Do I look inconvenienced? I come here out of the goodness of my heart, bearing information which you want… And you have the temerity to mock me!"

He places his right hand on his chest, making eye contact with… M'gann, this time.

"Me."

"Captain Cornwall, does-"

My shadow extends away from me in a way not explicable by the light sources around me.

"-this land have any sort of-"

When it reaches the middle of the pack of elves, Mercury pulls herself out.

"-built-in concept of guest-rights-"

She reaches up and flicks the elf in the back, causing him to… Turn into elven confetti and float away.

"-which-. Never mind."

"Inside the hall, Cernunnos would enforce the peace. But we are outside. Still, I insist that-."

Cluracan glare at me, pointing aggressively with his right hand. "Guaaaaards!"

Mercury pops another as he marches past her while the rest draw their swords and form ranks. Cluracan looks rather pleased with their display.

"And what do you think of that?"

Richard blinks. "Who did they take?"

Cluracan frowns faintly. "I don't concern myself with learning-."

"Who did they take from you? I don't know who you think we are, but we're superheroes. It's our job to deal with situations like this. We don't want anything from you. Whoever it is, we'll rescue them when we rescue everyone else they've taken. And we'll try doing that whether you help us or not, but you helping out would make it a whole lot faster."

Cluracan's eyes widen, his expression.. actually looking like a real expression for the first time since I first saw him.

"I-ah… What.. gave me away?"

"You were over-acting, badly. I-" He glances at me. "-don't know why no one else noticed."

"I haven't met an elf before. It seemed credible to me that they might actually behave like that."

Kon shrugs. "I just thought he was an idiot."

Mercury skips along behind the shield wall, poking glamour-crafted soldiers into confetti. Cluracan finally notices, half-turning to see what she's doing.

"Lord Cluracan." Mr. Marrack still sounds stern, but there's a slight suggestion of compassion. "We do not ask anything in return. Tell us what you know, and we will-."

"My sister. My sister vanished, and the King and Queen don't care. Not for low-born like us."

"So not a lord?"

"For my birthday several centuries ago they made me lord of an unusually large toadstool."

Richard nods. "We all know people who've been taken. We wanna help."

"A-alright then. I'll tell you what I know."

Mr. Marrack nods. "I believe that Cernunnos will want to hear this from you directly."
 
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Now, at first glance, one would assume that those deities he would be concerned about would be the Chaos Gods, but given that Paolo DESPISES those psychic parasites, I reckon he's talking about one or more of the "Order" aligned deities.

Hmmm, don't the Asrai, the Wood Elves, during their "Wild Hunt" have a habit for wanton indiscriminate killing as a supernatural stress release for Athel Loren, and stealing human children from the peasants of Bretonnia which they then turn into servants, made ageless by magic?

Yeah, I DEFINITELY could see Paolo turning Orion, avatar of Kurnous, along with his Wild Riders into servant constructs if any of them DARED to direct their slaughtering horde at HIS growing town/city, pissing off the god of The Hunt, as well as Isha indirectly.
He's quite a long way north west of Athel Loren.
 
Ring, did he just see me and decide to make himself look taller

Hmm, its either a power move, or he thinks it'll help his chances of getting in your pants.

Hm. But you have processing capacity. It's perfectly possible that you're affected as well. Scan for ground pressure under their feet.

Within predicted parameters.

And the impressions for the steps they've already taken?

Not found.

Hah

I mean, it could just be that they can choose to not leave footprints.

Seeing their desires isn't reliable because my vision is already being spoofed. Enkindling their desires won't do anything because they don't have any

And it may piss them off if you try to do those things.

You are just us vulnerable

"just as"


"When it"
 
My shadow extends away from me in a way not explicable by the light sources around me.

"-this land have any sort of-"

When in reaches the middle of the pack of elves, Mercury pulls herself out.

"-built-in concept of guest-rights-"

She reaches up and flicks the elf in the back, causing him to… Turn into elven confetti and float away.

So who else started ranting, internally or externally, from that last line?

It all worked out, but I at least felt some focused rage right there!
 
17th February 2013
14:24 GMT


He bows like an actor receiving a standing ovation, hair cascading over his face in a perfectly even wave, then moving back into place as he stands upright. His eyes move-.

Ring, did he just see me and decide to make himself look taller?
Petty, but entirely in character. Cluracan does have a need to be the center of attention, doesn't he? And that apparently extends to being the tallest guy in the conversation. And don't think we didn't notice that entirely unnatural bit of hair animation, knife-ears. :p

This ring cannot evaluate subject motives. Apparent height shifted after subject looked at Lantern.

So, yes.
Big ego, small... Endowments.

Correlation does not prove causation.

"Hail, friends." He throws his arms out in a pitch perfect piece of overacting. "I understand that you have a grievous need of our guidance and leadership, to prevent your people being preyed upon by a dastardly dark god." He shrinks his smile to something a little less risible and he makes eye contact with me. "But where are your manners. Won't you give me your name, stranger?"
He certainly knows how to leverage bardic charm, doesn't he?

I don't roll my eyes, but I do close them for a moment.

"In the interests of avoiding having the Ophidian eat you, no. Instead, I will tell you what it is and give you a creative commons license to use it as necessary in conversation or documentation."
Ah, fighting trickery with legality.

Lord Cluracan sweeps past me and smiles at Mitchell.

"If that one intends to be oafish, might I ask for your name instead?"
Evidently a little out of sorts, or he wouldn't have used such a blantly-worded bait.

Mitchell shrugs. "We all know that joke. We think you're asking us to tell you what our name is, then suddenly we can't remember our own name because you own it. Everyone who knows anything about fairies knows that. Why do you even ask? It's like the Sphinx's Riddle." Lord Cluracan appears to have spaced out slightly. "I guess if you asked enough people you'd probably find someone who hasn't heard it eventually, but I'm pretty sure Captain Cornwall would have jumped in if we were going to say something we shouldn't."
On the upside, I suspect using their 'made-up' names would have foiled his foolishness. That's why pseudonyms and epithets are so common in myth.

Stone cold.

"Yes, well done!" The smile is back, and the other elves… Appear not to have changed their expressions. Are they actually here? I mean, I heard the sound, but it's perfectly possible to feign any sensory input using a glamour. "It is nice so see that humans are still learning the old lore."
...So he's faking the entire delegation? :rolleyes: Entirely in character.

"I mean, I'm not human, but okay."

Ring, did you hear the trumpets a moment ago?

Logs indicate 'yes'.
Doesn't mean much. Auditory illusions are easy. Fleeting phantom sounds even easier, because it's harder to disbelieve them. :p

Hm. But you have processing capacity. It's perfectly possible that you're affected as well. Scan for ground pressure under their feet.

Within predicted parameters.
Mage hand or prestidigitation to produce pressure.

And the impressions for the steps they've already taken?

Not found.

Hah!
Clever. No footprints mean no actual elves.

Mr. Marrak appears to decide that he's had enough tomfoolery. "Do you know where they are operating? It is imperative that we find this… Mannheim, and stop him as swiftly as possible."

"It may be that I do." He affects an expression of what I think is supposed to be mock-offence, except that he's trying to convey that he is offended. Another exaggeration. "But I'm feeling a little put-upon at the moment."
And now he wants to be sweet-talked, now that he's feeling insulted by their reaction? :rolleyes: Drama Queen...

Now, I don't know for certain that the other elves don't exist. They might be disguising their own tracks. It would hardly be surprising for a diplomatic envoy to be accompanied by elite special forces. So how do I test it? Seeing their desires isn't reliable because my vision is already being spoofed. Enkindling their desires won't do anything because they don't have any. Stabbing them in the foot while Cluracan is distracted might work, but equally he might sense it and have them respond appropriately.
So distract him. That shouldn't be too hard, given how flighty he normally is.

"Then grow up. You are just us vulnerable to his attacks as we are." Mr. Marrak glances at me. "Or more so. And if what these heroes say is true, they are blocking off your access to Earth. That means little to a dead man like me, but for your people I imagine that would be inconvenient."

Cluracan rolls his neck, raising his arms in a gesture of appeal. "Do I look inconvenienced? I come here out of the goodness of my heart, bearing information which you want… And you have the temerity to mock me!"
Oh, hush. Before they think to ask where the smell of fresh bull droppings is coming form. :p

He places his right hand on his chest, making eye contact with… M'gann, this time.

"Me."
No gonna get much sympathy from her, mate. You're already copying her schtick, pretending to be something else. :D

"Captain Cornwall, does-"

My shadow extends away from me in a way not explicable by the light sources around me.
Ah, a quiet word in Mercury's ear, eh?

"-this land have any sort of-"

When in reaches the middle of the pack of elves, Mercury pulls herself out.
And she's part fey (maybe) so this isn't even an assault. Just a bit of ego deflation.

"-built-in concept of guest-rights-"

She reaches up and flicks the elf in the back, causing him to… Turn into elven confetti and float away.
Heh. Substantial as a tissue.

"-which-. Never mind."

"Inside the hall, Cernunnos would enforce the peace. But we are outside. Still, I insist that-."
Which is no doubt why Cluracan isn't trying this shit in there. Which means he's probably not an actual envoy.

Cluracan glare at me, pointing aggressively with his right hand. "Guaaaaards!"

Mercury pops another as he marches past her while the rest draw their swords and form ranks. Cluracan looks rather pleased with their display.
Of course he would be, he put a lot of effort into working out the motions for forming a phalanx. :p

"And what do you think of that?"

Richard blinks. "Who did they take?"
...Ah, Robin seeing right to the heart of the matter, eh?

Cluracan frowns faintly. "I don't concern myself with learning-."

"Who did they take from you? I don't know who you think we are, but we're superheroes. It's our job to deal with situations like this. We don't want anything from you. Whoever it is, we'll rescue them when we rescue everyone else they've taken. And we'll try doing that whether you help us or not, but you helping out would make it a whole lot faster."
And there's only one person Cluracan would concern himself with other than himself...

Cluracan's eyes widen, his expression.. actually looking like a real expression for the first time since I first saw him.

"I-ah… What.. gave me away?"
Good, he's not trying to play elvish games now.

"You were over-acting, badly. I-" He glances at me. "-don't know why no one else noticed."

"I haven't met an elf before. It seemed credible to me that they might actually behave like that."
And to be fair, they probably do amongst themselves. Always trying to outdo each other in grandiosity...

Kon shrugs. "I just thought he was an idiot."

Mercury skips along behind the shield wall, poking glamour-crafter soldiers into confetti. Cluracan finally notices, half-turning to see what she's doing.
That wet raspberry sound if his ego deflating rapidly. :V

"Lord Cluracan." Mr. Marrak still sounds stern, but there's a slight suggesting of compassion. "We do not ask anything in return. Tell us what you know, and we will-."

"My sister. My sister vanished, and the King and Queen don't care. Not for low-born like us."
Nuala, eh? Not a large leap of logic to assume the Justifiers have her.

"So not a lord?"

"For my birthday several centuries ago they made me lord of an unusually large toadstool."
...Which isn't saying much, even in fairyland. It might well be the size of a cottage, but it's still a toadstool.

Richard nods. "We all know people who've been taken. We wanna help."

"A-alright then. I'll tell you what I know."

Mr. Marrak nods. "I believe that Cernunnos will want to hear this from you directly."
No doubt he's been wondering what the racket outside is.

And so Cluracan's motivation is revealed. Just an older brother, worried about a little sister (even if he hasn't always been so concerned sometimes.) And willing to 'borrow' some diplomatic muscle in order to make a strong impression, I see. I wonder if Dream is involved, though, given that Nuala was at one time made a gift to him by the faerie Queen. Though that was some time ago, and he did release her later.
 
I mean, I heard the sound, but it's perfectly possible to feign any sensory input using a glamour. "It is nice so see that humans are still learning the old lore."
'to see'
Mr. Marrak appears to decide that he's had enough tomfoolery.
'Marrack'?
"Then grow up. You are just us vulnerable to his attacks as we are." Mr. Marrak glances at me.
'Marrack'?
Mr. Marrak nods. "I believe that Cernunnos will want to hear this from you directly."
'Marrack'?

An amusing chapter. Hilarious that he's actually just a bad actor.
 

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