You open the double doors and head out into the open, rolling fields beyond.
Rolling Fields
It's a gorgeous sight, the brilliant yellows and greens of freshly sprouted grasses waving in the wind, rolling hills stretching off as far as the eye can see. Pure, golden sunlight pours forth from the never-setting sun standing at twelve o'clock high, bringing a mild, pleasant warmth to the vast expanse of land. Puffy white clouds dart through the sky, sometimes fast, sometimes languid and slow, always casting their cool shadows across the land.
As you reach the peak of one of the highest hills, you are able to survey the land as the scent of new life washes over you. Facing north, toward the keep, a massive forest sits, far off into the distance to the west. Several deer can be seen darting into the trees as you spot them, as if sensing your discerning eye. Immediately opposite it is a large body of water, from which a small stream flows. Near the stream is a large oaken forest, which gradually renews itself in the warm light. Before you, directly opposite the massive crater, there rests Novus Valnastium, a large stone complex resting atop another hill, with one lone tower stretching into the sky above.
A little off to the northeast, a small and upside-down, metallic-bowl structure sits. Long tethers are coiled up beside the structure; no more does the glorious airship dock above it. The slender curves and high-tech metals used on the small building are a stark contrast to the Keep, merely fifty yards away, and it easily gives away who is responsible for such a building.
<< DAYZONE >>
Contents:
Shen Chi
Cole
Cadence
Viktor
Obvious exits:
_________________________ //.etro: Toronto by Night _________________________
Name Sex Mode Idle Type Short Description
______________________________________________________________________________
Cadence F IC 1m Pl -
Viktor M IC 3m Pl -
Penny F IC 1s Pl Chute jacket, jeans, t-shirt. White hair
Cole M IC 3m Pl -
Shen Chi M IC 3m Pl -
______________________________________________________________________________
Viktor responds with a slight bow and says, "Deseann, but call me Viktor. If you had asked me yet a week before, I might ask you to be formal, but fate has decided that I shouldn't.... Anyways, thats not important nor likely interesting to you two." He looks and addresses only Shen and Cole. "Welcome, I suppose. I'm not sure why Cadence has brought you here, but I'm sure it was with good reason."
Cole jams his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his ragged burgundy sweatshirt, watching Cadence, Shen Chi, and Viktor talk.
Shen Chi raises his brow rather interestedly at what Viktor has to say. The ball bounces from behind his shoulder and heads toward Cadence' hand without Shen Chi even look. "Cady? Well, Kaze brought me here the first time I came. I suppose Cady is only being curteous." He grins in her direction once more without quite looking at her before he says. "I find a lot of things interesting, by the way. But only so many interesting things can be said at one time, I suppose."
Cadence responds to Viktor, "I didn't bring Shen Chi here. If you hadn't noticed, he walked in quite well on his own." She almost misses the ball tossed to her, thinking that he wasn't going to throw it, and already having taken her hand back. She manages to fumble through catching it, however, just barely. With a small smile she looks over toward Cole, tossing it to him. "So what brings you by?" she addresses Shen Chi for the last question.
Penny makes great strides towards the crater's edge, bee-lining from the novus in a hurry and a half. Along the way she caps a pen, yanks out a hat from her bag and winds a scarf around her neck.
Viktor glances at Penny and listens for Shen Chi's answer.
Cole glances over at the swiftly moving Penny as well, watching her curiously.
Shen Chi shifts his hand into his pocket and removes another nearly fuzzless tennis ball and shrugs casually. "I was looking for Kaze. He's not with Ryo so I thought he might be here. I'm worried about... Well, it doesn't matter, I can talk to Kaze about it." He smiles amiably and offers his free hand to Viktor. "It is good to meet you, Mr. Deseann." He glances sidelong at Penny for a moment before smiling upon Viktor again. "Do you live here?"
Viktor takes his hand and replies, "I don't live anywhere. I no longer have a house to stay in." He doesn't seem disturbed or worried about this in the least.
Cadence looks surprised at that news, looking away from the swift Penny back to Viktor. "You don't? You can't stay at the estate?"
As Cole is distracted by Penny's dash, he misses the ball entirely and it bonks him in the side of the head. He looks first to Shen Chi curiously, wondering how he managed to get a ball to hit the ~other~ side of his head...when it dawns on him. He looks back at Cadence, shocked, before bending to pick up the ball and coming up red-eared.
Viktor sighs and says, "Staying and living are two different things. I /could/ stay there, but I don't feel welcome if I make it my home for more than a few nights. Besides, it's not my home. It won't ever be."
============================ BB Post in Progress =============================
Group: Mage - Traditions
Title: On Mourning:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Around 9:30pm, March 24 the following URL is posted.
http://www.junkho.org/
and written in copperplate beneath:
AD NOCENDUM POTENTES SUMUS
==============================================================================
Cadence winces as she turns back just in time to see Cole picking up the ball. She smiles sheepishly, though there's a healthy dose of amusement in the expression as well. "Ooops," she mutters, then explains to Cole, "You were supposed to -catch- it. I thought you were looking. Sorry." She holds out a hand to him to toss the ball back again. "What happened to your previous home?"
Shen Chi seems to miss this interplay and just watches Viktor, tilting his head curiously. "I could talk to some people in low income housing and help you find an apartment, Mr. Deseann. How much money do you make? A roof over one's head does wonders for the Self."
Street> Industrial Light and Sound says "Here, check't out. (http://www.junkho.org/) Creepy shit for a party, man."
Cole tosses the ball back to Cadence and returns his wavering attention to the matter at hand, housing. Clearly a weighty issue. He nods to Viktor, seconding Shen Chi's offer and encouragement.
Viktor gives Cadence a rather mean look for seemingly no reason and says, "If I have to explain to you whats happened to me recently, then you obviously didn't care enough to listen before... meaning I doubt you do now. As for your offer, I must decline. A librarians salary is hardly enough to cover much buy my eating, and I prefer to sleep here more often than not, mostly because I won't be bothered."
Cole glances over at Shen Chi...
Shen Chi nods solemnly to Viktor, as if he certainly has all the freedom in the world to make that choice. However, he does clarify. "Low income housing is intended for people with low incomes, but it is okay. I am sure living here is just fine." He smiles in a friendly manner upon Viktor before shifting his gaze to Cole and Cadence, "Just showing Cole around? He needs his hand held?"
A shadow of a shadow, Penny's form diminshes. Moving toward the vanishing point between the tall grasses and the crater's edge, not even her path remains - swaying reeds that part and bend so easily snap back to their own form.
You walk south along Parliament to Queens Quay.
Waterfront - Parliament and Queens Quay(#1111RJ)
The intersection here is a patchwork of overpasses and onramps that join the city streets, with the Gardiner Expressway stretching east and west, and the Don Valley Parkway heading north through the city. The expressway is literally a dividing line between the downtown core and the waterfront, and below it, the development of the city center gives way to a mix of run down warehouses, seedy industrial infrastructure, and commercial docks further south. While one can make out the Toronto Star building lit up to the West, and the soaring height and sparkling lights of the CN Tower in the midst of the skyline beyond, this part of Toronto is clearly far removed from all of that. This area is dirtier than the city center, and graffiti marks the support structures of the overpass and is scrawled on some of the warehouse walls, colorful gang tags dimly visible. After dark, with most of the actual businesses closed, that same criminal element tends to wander a bit more visibly, making this a dangerous part of the city indeed, its grimier side not easily hidden by the rows of trees and other foliage planted along the waterfront, the most recent attempt at urban renewal just coming into bloom.
It's fair and mild, with a few clouds in the sky.
Obvious exits:
Warehouse WA
It is larger than most warehouses on the block. Standing tall and preeminent in its domain you are faced with clerestory windows and a set of large doors. They are opened only for for tractor trailers and large panel vans to load and unload their shipping. There is a side door which allows for individual traffic without all the effort required to open the much larger sliding doors.
Hiro has arrived.
Everyone has a distinctive walk, a particular kind of footstep. She knows it's you before you say anything. "Should check it for bugs," Penny comments in an offhand, distracted way "can never be too careful." Hands on her hips, some flyers folded under her arm, she looks up, scanning the line of the rooftop. "Get tight on the door, yeah? Otherwise this is gonna be a bitch. Last thing we need is another lysergic puke fest."
"Nobody's botherin' to bug these shitholes," answers Hiro, coming to a stop just behind your left shoulder. He hits his cigarette, the precognitive emphysemic wheeze of smoke sucked through a filter. "We do a map point block and a half away, use one of the kids -- bring them in a few at a time. No big groups."
Penny reaches over, ashes the cigarette - her hand on yours - and takes it to the corner of her mouth. Dragging long, she exhales with a rattling cough "Should get a screen up in there so they can't see .." pausing to look up the block "..everything."
Another immense pause. Everything behind the curtain. "Wonder if Alex'll show," testing the boundary of a smile, fasting made her lips chapped and raw. "Kinda beats you got lined up?"
"We open with dawn and some fluff-cheese. Some kinda uplifting bullshit." Hiro rolls a shoulder, giving a tug to the lapel of his technicolor dream coat. "Mix in some Klute, go right for the hard dee'n'bee. Maybe psy when things wind down and everybody's fuckered to the gills..." He trails off, squinting up at the warehouse's high windows; mouthing something wordless to himself. Numbers.
"You're gonna be gone, too" examining the cigarette, it's filter, like she's never smoked before. She tosses it into a drainage grate "Better get the monkey on board to take over when it starts to hit."
"I'm gonna go get the.. get things started." They say you should never do anything you can not admit to later. But some things. Some things are unutterable.
"I'm eating a ten-strip tonight," Hiro answers absently, tilting a sidelong look towards Penny as she turns away. "I do my best work fuckered to the gills." A killing drag from his cigarette, flicked aside -- an end-on-end red-orange parabola in the dark, then *hsst* into a pool of filthy water -- and he turns away as well, heading down the street.
[MEANWHILE… 8 hours later…]
Waterfront - Parliament and Queens Quay(#1111RJ)
The intersection here is a patchwork of overpasses and onramps that join the city streets, with the Gardiner Expressway stretching east and west, and the Don Valley Parkway heading north through the city. The expressway is literally a dividing line between the downtown core and the waterfront, and below it, the development of the city center gives way to a mix of run down warehouses, seedy industrial infrastructure, and commercial docks further south. While one can make out the Toronto Star building lit up to the West, and the soaring height and sparkling lights of the CN Tower in the midst of the skyline beyond, this part of Toronto is clearly far removed from all of that. This area is dirtier than the city center, and graffiti marks the support structures of the overpass and is scrawled on some of the warehouse walls, colorful gang tags dimly visible. After dark, with most of the actual businesses closed, that same criminal element tends to wander a bit more visibly, making this a dangerous part of the city indeed, its grimier side not easily hidden by the rows of trees and other foliage planted along the waterfront, the most recent attempt at urban renewal just coming into bloom.
It's fair and mild, with a few clouds in the sky.
Obvious exits:
You return IC ...
You open the warehouse door and walk in off the street.
Main Floor - Warehouse(#1811RIXJM)
On a normal evening, the warehouse would be nothing more than a giant, empty metal cavern. Tonight, however, it's been transformed into a technicolor, sensual version of Heaven and Hell. The corrugated metal walls and ceiling have been painted - half the room in black, and half the room in white - separated from each other with only a sheer veil of gauzy scarves and sparkling beads that dangle from the rafters. Music throbs throughout at a volume that's nearly deafening.
In order to get to Heaven, one must first go through Hell. The black portion of the warehouse is dark and forbidding. Black-stemmed electric candles with red flickering bulbs are mounted on the walls, illuminating a scattering of second-hand sofas where the weary may find respite. Two large television screens hang from high, blasting images of dancing concert crowds interspersed with scenes of destruction, fire, death and mayhem. Three black, corinthian columns rise from the floor to the endless blackness above, while the fourth column lays on its side. The floor is littered with sparkling silver dust and black feathers from Fallen angels.
Heaven is nearly a mirror image of Hell. Ivory-stemmed electric candles featuring white lights cast a warm, steady glow around the perimeter where a collection of comfortable sofas and chairs can be found. Two large television screens hang from high on the walls, scenes of televangelists and religious congregations flickering between images of nude bodies entwined in rhythmic coupling. Four pearly, corinthian columns rest majestically, one in each corner, and the floor is covered with gold dust and the white feathers of Heaven's chosen.
**
Contents:
Taliesin
Alexandre
Daisy
Standingwater
Niko
Abel
Hiro
Obvious exits:
Taliesin smiles to Abel, "That's wonderful." He winks, "I was hoping you would do something like that when faced with her being sent away. She'll be in good hands, and I'm sure we'll be able to arrange for you to visit." He looks around, "As for the party. I'll miss the guy, I really will."
Hiro snaps the top of the sound console down, checks the power, and begins to switch the remainder of his equipment on. There's a lot more there than just the turntables and mixer -- small black boxes with small knobs and softly glowing LCD screens. "Five till takeoff, Daisy," he announces, examining his watch again.
Alexandre nods slightly to Standingwater, "It seems a lot of us are waiting for that." Frowns slightly, then looks to Niko, then back to Standingwater, "A lot of things were put on hold, I suppose."
Abel says, "We're only engaged... I don't have a place to live yet... or a job that will pay enough... but... but The One willing IFYA will happen and then I'll have a bit more of something to offer her."
Viktor opens the door and enters from the streetside.
Viktor has arrived.
Niko glances over to Alexandre, 'I'm ready to do it now if you folks are..'
Viktor enters and says, "Ah ha! There they are." He appears to have just arrived from scanning all the warehouses.
Jake has arrived.
Alexandre looks over to Niko, shakes his head, "Not right now. Later this week? I don't have all my instruments with me."
Abel's slightly hazed look scans the room as he turns toward Niko, pausing at one moment to look into empty space, then continuing on to Niko, Jamaia, and Alexandre. "Are you heading toward Michigan? he asks?"
Standingwater just grunts, pulls his hat back down, and settles more comfortably against the wall.
Standingwater grunts from under his hat, "Michigan. Hell. It doesn't matter. I'll go."
The entity that has come to pay its respect to the late Chase Kettle moves about the room again, leaving the slumbering Maisri to her foggy dreams.
Alexandre looks to Abel, somewhat surprised by the question, "Mmm... No. I'm not sure to what you're referring." He smiles slightly as Viktor walks in, raising his hand to greet him.
Jake walks in quietly.
Penny, obviously, is bringing in the tv.
There's a big commotion at the doors, see; jostling and shouting. Pushing a television stand on wheels through a small army of ravers is a difficult thing. They kind of back up, their arms spreading back and outward, giving Penny plenty of room.
The tv itself is something decades old. Straight out of the eighties. There's a crack running down the center of the glass. Or maybe it's a pattern? It doesn't have the look of a natural smash. Snaking out between her steps is the tail of large, orange extension cord.
"Oi," she shouts.
Daisy stands from her sand-painting and carefully edges her way around it, expression neutral, to take a place in front of the microphone.
For those that haven't seen her in the past two weeks, her condition -- already questionable -- continues to deteriorate. Heavy bags hang underneath her dishwater-coloured eyes; her skin hangs like rags over bones. Catabolism has eaten her down to her core.
"Hi," she says uncertainly, wincing at the sound of her amplified voice. "The Invisible College would like to welcome you to the Invisible Party. You all know ... you all know why you're here."
Abel turns to Daisy as she makes her announcement. He nods.
Viktor nudges aside someone to get a good look has an expression like he /doesn't/ know why hes there.
Hiro steps aside to make room for Daisy, his thumb held down on a cut-out button on his console. The kids near the front of the venue are getting to their feet, dusting gold-dust from their gargantuan pants. His expression is, perhaps, less neutral - more on the side of grm.
Alexandre shifts where he stands, looking towards Daisy as she speaks. He adjusts his satchel so that it hangs mostly over his back.
Hiro drops SETUP: READ ME!.
This area is temporarially a DAYZONE.
The party is taking place starting at IC dawn.
Those of you with broadband and winamp can tune in:
http://205.188.234.65:8024
Almost anyone can view the flyers:
http://www.junkho.org
"You're here," Daisy continues, "because Chase Kettle is dead. He died ... well, he died to save the Invisible College from monsters we don't quite understand. But. I mean. There --"
-- and she nearly falls over, tendons standing out against pale skin as she grips the microphone --
"-- I mean, I'm sorry. We, and I mean by that Penny and me, we've been fasting waiting for this. So all of you pull up a beer. There's gonna be a show, and then some dancing. Listen, though: we respect your religions. Just this once, respect ours."
Taliesin makes his way over to Penny pushing through the crowd, although they clear out of his way fairly helpfully. He mutters to Penny, "... do... want... place... honour?" He smiles slightly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what appears to be a black silk handkerchief, which he begins unfolding slowly, while waiting for Penny's response to his question.
You sense Taliesin makes his way over to Penny pushing through the crowd, although they clear out of his way fairly helpfully. "Where do you want me to place the guest of honour?" He smiles slightly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what appears to be a black silk handkerchief, which he begins unfolding slowly, while waiting for Penny's response to his question.
Jake waits quietly.
...the kids, the crew that's been hanging around, is already clustering around the pair of pony kegs; someone brought plastic cups. Strangely, they each take only an inch of beer or so; about a fifth of a cup each. They cluster around of the edges of the warehouse with their cups, silent.
Abel looks concernedly up at Daisy and starts to move toward her when he sees her stumble, but she seems to be OK... well... sorta.
Through the glitter and feathers, Penny shoves the stand on squeaky wheels finally to where it belongs. She wheels the stand around so that the screen faces the crowd. Then she starts undressing, walking towards Hiro, scarf, mittens, jacket, hat. These things are discarded as Taliesin follows in their wake. She slows down, pausing while she unbuckles her belt and kicks off her shoes, "Follow me," and leads Tal behind the curtain.
With a wan smile to Abel, Daisy adds, "We're okay," and turns around to take the television's plug, to run it toward the wall, to plug it in. This all takes much longer than it might otherwise: the cord jumps and twists in her impaired perception, remaining steady only at the margins of her peripheral vision.
The handerchief now looks like a flag as Taliesin continues unfolding it even as he walks behind Penny, the thing hanging by one hand to his gleaming oaken staff. Is there an end to the thing? No one will know because he's slipped behind the curtain after Penny.
Abel nods to Daisy. "If you need me let me know." He looks over at the Pony kegs then. A small look of fear passes though his grey eyes, pretty easy to see it too sinc ehtey have that partially stoned, distant seeing look.
Penny draws and ties the curtain onto a pole. It seems to be one of those unwritten rules of the party - you don't go near the decks, you do not pass go. A small group of glitter-tykes reassemble in the area, filling in the holes Penny, Tal and Daisy left in the crowd.
Hiro bends down to retrieve a record from the plastic milk crate behind the decks, examing the label, flipping it over, and sliding it onto the spindle of the leftmost table. He cranks the volume all the way down -- a barely perceptible thrum, somewhere at the edge of perception -- and lays the needle down. No music yet.
Abel heads over to Hiro and leans into whisper to him, the slightly hesitant look still in his eyes.
As Hiro lays the needle down, the television springs to life. The screen casts Heaven and Hell in a cool blue glow for a long moment. Phantom shapes play across the split in the screen, glowing in shades of green and red and blue.
Daisy takes the microphone again, murmuring, "Take seats, if you want. There're couches around the edges of the room. This will take a while, but I'm sure you'll want to see it."
With a hesitant look around the room -- she's still not used to taking the job of MC -- she steps back.
[BEHIND THE CURTAIN]
It seems to be an altar, the overturned area of squatted living - a bathtub smashed into pieces, a sink and mirror equally shattered. "Here," continuing to remove her clothing, she walks into an unlit area where the light can't find her skin "put him here. And his blood, if you have it."
A rustling then. Of loose fabric. She reappears, tying on a sheet. Horribly emaciated, a lone survivor of some civil unrest. "Okay?"
Taliesin finishes unfolding the black silk cloth to its full dimensions eight feet across and six feet wide. He sets it down over the bathtub as directed. He shakes his head, "No blood I'm afraid. Whomever embalmed him either did it with magic or got rid of it." He sets down his staff for a moment and spreads the cloth out a bit over something, a form that was certainly not anything in the bathtub. He looks at it for a moment, concentrates and then, with an almost theatrical gesture, grabs one end of the black cloth and yanks, flinging it off of the headless corpse of one Chase Kettle, Esq.
[OUT THERE IN THE WAREHOUSE]
Alexandre remains in the back, then makes his way towards the front. He accepts a plastic cup that's passed to him, peers at its contents. Sniffs it. Wrinkles his nose, then steps back slightly from the ravers. His left hand, with the cup, drops to his side as he waits.
One of the kids leaves the crowd; approaching Hiro as he slips a pair of headphones around his neck. Pig-boy leans forward to accept a plastic cup -- half-full of beer -- with two hands; giving Abel a sidelong look. "Don't sweat it, Abel. Just watch." He thumbs the microphone off, and turns to face the television.
Jake does not sit, he mearly remains standing and watches everything in a quiet manner.
Abel nods, looking a bit relieved. "Thanks Hiro. Maybe I'll explain someday." Then he moves away to get a view of the TV.
Abel looks back over. "I'll pray if it will help, though.
Penny unhooks the curtain allowing Tal to leave. She stands there a moment, looking over her shoulder. "It'll do." She hangs back and waits a moment, watching the blue light start to flicker across the crowd.
Alexandre read your description.
Penny(#6870PIOAC)
The refined sythesis of hard living and regular controlled substance abuse is as much a draw as it is obvious; this woman is tall and lean in a way that exaggerates her features. The countenance is the portrait of the soul and the eyes mark its intentions. Summed up in a word; pin-points. Green eyes, dyed-black eyebrows obvious on the paler skin. Her mouth a red, ripe stain; a suggestion of violence in the curve of her lips.
She's got white hair, a canvas for other color. With a part on the extreme left, it was cut with a blunt tool and layered across. If you could stand above her, it's shaped exactly like an almond and drops across one eye.
She has an incredibly pretty face, nothing hidden, no lines of early aging, no mark or scar. An eternity of cheek bones, a long neck and around it one long silver chain vee-ing into the collar of her shirt, something suspended at the end. The lack of sun has turned her pale and she's become translucent where the skin is thinnest, the bluest veins risen to the surface.
She wears white fabric wrapped badly, like a toga. She is skin and bones. This is not the look of a healthy young woman - there's hollowness, spaces waiting to be filled. Around her arms are tattoos in india ink - words and phrases in a language not known to many or at all. Her feet are covered in the same manner.
Daisy stands at the microphone for a moment. She clears her throat. She shuffles her feet. She closes her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is low; her diction is stuttering. She misses words, trips over them, goes back and corrects them.
"Praise be unto thee, O Osiris, the Lord of Eternity," she says. "Un-Nefer, Heru-Khuti, whose forms are manifold, whose attributes are majestic. Praise be unto thee, O thou who art Ptah-Seker-Tem in Anu. Thou Lord of the hidden shrine. Thou Creator of Het-ka-Ptah and of the gods therein, thou Guide of the Tuat, who art glorified when thou settest in the sky."
And the screen lights up.
The film is familiar by now. Jackie Kennedy and the President are driving in Dallas. The book depository is invisible and inevitable. It lurks outside the frame, impatient for history to catch up. The crowd swells and bulges with the anticipation of a spectacle.
The President smiles.
Two hundred saw it. Only Zapruder's grainy film and unsteady camera is preserved. The event is expected. The expectation hangs in the air, and Daisy continues to chant.
Taliesin steps out from behind the curtain. He occupies himself near it by folding up the now huge piece of silk cloth that he's carrying, before shoving back into the crowd. When all is said and done, its a neatly folded handkerchief again and goes into his pocket.
Sound creeps in at the lower edge of perception; a wash of incomprehensible female vocals, the decibel level of a television in the next room. A beat, irregular and surreal, vibrates at a level more felt than heard.
Viktor watches curiously.
The President waves. His expression is opaque; contemplative.
The cantor intones, "Thou turnest thy face towards Amentet. Thou makest the earth to shine as with refined copper. "
And it happens.
Through Zapruder's eyes, the event is silent, sterile. The six immortal frames pass in a moment. There is no hot rush of blood. There is no sound, and out of the frame, Secret Service agents scatter, though Zapruder directs his attention elsewhere; down. It is Jacqueline's face, still uncomprehending, which is the focus of the camera.
"Those who have lain down in death rise up to see thee," whispers Daisy. "They still breathe."
Abel stands where he can see, his eyes still distant looking... you'd say he was stoned if you didn't Abel never gets stoned. His lips move in silent prayer.
Alexandre closes his eyes for a moment, right after the the moment, then opens his eyes to look at the image.
"Isis embraceth thee in peace," murmurs Daisy, voice wavering, on the verge of breaking. "She driveth away the fiends from the entrances of thy paths. She driveth away the fiends from the entrance of your paths."
Jacqueline cradles Jack's head. The tears are immediate, but only a projection: the grain of the film is too strong. They can only be imagined. The scene leaps. The film threatens to tear.
From behind the television, the chorus intones:
"Their hearts are at peace since they behold thee, o thou who art Eternity and Everlastingness. Their hearts are at peace since they behold thee, o Osiris.""
The crowd of ravers is silent - immobile. They all hold their cups still; none of them have consumed the small quantity of beer. All eyes are on the television.
Walking out from behind the curtain, Penny mouths the words Daisy speaks, the way people familiar with a body of work do. She puts her hands on two people, leaning at first like she might faint. They walk her up onto the dais to stand next to Hiro.
Niko read your description.
Abel read your description.
The film cuts away.
The film is no longer Zapruder's. It's less grainy. More professional. It depicts a dissection table: a heavy surgical light hangs overhead, casting the theatre in sharp-edged shadows. Four surgeons surround a corpse; Kennedy's, you presume.
"The hair of the Osiris Ani," Daisy says, breaking with the liturgy, for those who remember it. Her tone is opaque. "The hair of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, is the hair of Nu."
Without turning his attention away from the television, Hiro lays a hand on Penny's shoulder; gives it a wordless squeeze. The single record continues to spin silently behind him, the tactile bassline going through a subtle shift in tone; from merely trippy, to something more alien - darker.
The doctors begin to cut away the hair on the back of the corpse's head. The slim blade of a scalpel is inserted between scalp and skull; a thin incision is made. The screen has begun to throb; the glass gently pulsates with the shifting glow of the video playing beneath.
"The face of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, is the face of Ra," Daisy says, voice firm.
Acting with wordless coordination, the doctors turn the corpse over. One is staring at something behind the cameraman, just over his shoulder. Another disappears behind the cameraman for a moment. The remaining two begin to make incisions into Kennedy's forehead, near the exit wound. Blood has collected in thick dry cakes in the President's eyes; it spills in runnels over his cheeks.
With delicate precision, the doctors extract the bullet. They operate solemnly, wordlessly. It clinks down hard in a surgical pan.
Peculiarly, there is a wine rack positioned along the back wall, full of bottles. The labels are unreadable.
Abel is engrossed in the video. Watching with the others.. He actually seemed to react when Daisy changes the liturgy. Maybe he knows it as well?
"The eyes of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, are the eyes of Hathor."
One of the doctors opens the corpse's eyes, checks their dilated pupils with a scope. The doctor that had disappeared behind the frame returns, unwinding a length of surgical tubing from around his upper arm. Laughing (and silently; the microphone isn't turned on) he punches another of the surgeons in the arm.
Viktor watches silently, but confused at the purpose of all this. He looks around at all the people near him.
"The ears of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, are the ears of Up-uatu."
The ears are checked for obstructions. The doctor who has just come back from out of frame is weaving; his eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, and his hands tremble. A stroke of his knife removes a section of Kennedy's ear: a thick crescent of flesh that disfigures the organ into unrecognizability.
The crowd seems full of what some present might consider children. Teenagers. Young twenty-somethings. They're dressed for a party, but a solemn mood prevails. More have filed in, while the video was running; perhaps thirty, forty people now. Each holds a single plastic cup, the contents untouched. No pleasant greetings ring out. None of the candy kids hugs each other. There is an aura of familiarity between them -- but not joviality.
Standingwater goes home.
Standingwater has left.
"The lips of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, are the lips of Anpu," the chorus intones as one doctor inserts a metal appliance into the President's mouth. The inebriated doctor stands aside as the other attendants wind it open. "The teeth of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, are the teeth of Serqet."
Underneath the surgical masks, one of the doctors is laughing. The joke is lost to history. Undeterred, the cantor continues:
"The cheeks of the Osiris Ani," Daisy says, clinging to the microphone, "whose word is truth, are the cheeks of Isis."
At least not yet there isn't. Penny and Hiro watch Daisy sweat the microphone along with everybody else. There isn't a smiling face in the house, no uncomfortable fidgiting or throat-clearing either. This is not your average group of afterhours kids - they're seasoned professionals.
Abel looks over to see what Tal is doing.
Because we want to wake these ravers up some day and they need to get used to the wierder shit we do ..like summon spirits.
Taliesin is standing there silently, holding his staff in his right hand. He makes no sound, barely breathes in fact, perhaps he's praying, perhaps he's stunned by the moment. It is difficult to read his expression, although there is something soft in his eyes that suggests a bittersweet mix of joy and grief.
Daisy says, "The arms of the Osiris Ani," the cantor says, "whose word is truth, are the arms of Ba-neb-Tetu."
While Daisy speaks, something on the screen is going wrong. The doctors are bringing out a surgical saw. Two of the doctors retreat behind the cameraman; the others bring the to sparking life. The camera cuts out for a moment. The lights flicker. The throbbing becomes a backbeat to Daisy's voice. One. Two. Three. Each beat hits a different word.
They have cut the President's arms off.
If the suspension of disbelief had not been broken yet, it is almost certainly broken now."
Abel turns back to the video, eyes still wide.
Jake opens the door and heads out streetside.
Jake has left.
Someone breaks off from the crowd, moving to stand a short distance from Daisy. He places his cup next to Daisy, on the platform housing turntables and mixer, and dissapears back from whence he came.
"The thighs of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, are the thighs of Nut."
The doctors weave slowly down the President's body. Briefly, from just out of frame, you can see the nose of an ass, lips pulled back in a terrible idiot grin. The cameraman is disinterested; the viewers therefore get no better view.
Their intention to cut off the President's legs is obvious. The camera mercifully cuts away, but the chorus is unrelenting. "The breast of the Osiris Ani, whose word is truth, is the breast of the Lady of Sais," Daisy pronounces. "The breast of the Osiris Ani is become the breast of the Lady of Sais."
Abel seems to blanche but then seems glad, maybe he noticed the Ommission?
Viktor yawks and looks away as this starts to get a little sick.
Taliesin, perhaps a bit stronger of constitution, or will, remains watching the ceremony unchanged by the events taking place on the screen.
Abel also keeps watching. He still looks pale, though.
Alexandre's eyes narrow as he watches; he looks towards Daisy, looks towards Penny, gaze shifting between them. The cup in his left hand shifts slightly, he returns to looking at the screen, but he keeps the same suspicious look.
Niko has watched the entire thing without a flinch, though he is not holding a cup, just remaining against the wall.
-- and as Daisy pronounces 'the breast', the surgical table in the video rises up and spins, spilling its contents on the floor. The torso, all that remains of the President, falls onto the floor.
A spume of fresh blood and deep red wine rises up in front of the camera. Silverware is laid out on the counter behind. Only one figure, a doctor masked with the head of an ass, remains in frame, staring down at the tableau.
As the autopsy begins to fade, Hiro and Penny begin to speak as well:
"His sister hath protected his soul; hath repulsed the fiends, and turned aside calamities. She uttered the spell with the magical power of her mouth. Her tongue was perfect, and it never halted at a word. Beneficent in command and word was Isis, the woman of magical spells, the advocate of her brother. She sought him untiringly, she wandered round and round about this earth in sorrow, and she alighted not without finding him. She made light with her feathers, she created air with her wings, and she uttered the death wail for her brother. She raised up the inactive members of whose heart was still, she drew from him his essence, she made an heir, she reared the child in loneliness, and the place where he was not known, and he grew in strength and stature, and his hand was mighty in the House of Keb. The Company of the Gods rejoiced, rejoiced, at the coming of Horus, the son of Osiris, the spirit of Osiris, whose heart was firm, the triumphant, the son of Isis, the heir of Osiris."
Abel turns to the door from where he is standing, his grey eyes open and distant, standing near the back of the crowd that is watching the scene up on the stage.
[GO ON, LAUGH FUCKERS]
"Faith may be defined briefly as an illogical belief in the occurrence of the improbable." H. L. Mencken
PHENOMENON: Penny removed her street gear for a toga. The toga is the symbol of all that is well-learned, all that is philosophical and possessed of great knowledge. Earlier in the evening she decorated her skin with Pythagorean symbols, with glyphs from the Book of the Dead. These lend her an other-worldliness and she becomes, in the eyes of ravers, someone to be believed in. Someone like a leader.
ACTION & THEORY: It's a Mind effect. It's her job to begin the festivities, her job to get it started. This has always been her role. The first phrase "Bibamus, moriendum est!" means "Let us drink, death is inevitable." This is the cue she gives at all Invisible Parties. They raise their glasses and toast. She is reaching out to these open minds as she speaks the second phrase "Omne ignotum pro magnifico est!" which means "We have great notions of everything unknown" and encouraging them to see greater things than the lies on what is set before them. In this instance: the television screen. Penny, with the mere presence of her voice, is ushering these kids towards enlightenment."
OOC> Hiro mocks Penny.
OOC> Penny says ""Ah crap. Well. There you have it."
"Those who have lain down in death rise up," the chorus pronounces vehemently.
"Those who have lain down in death rise up. They still breathe. The grave sings."
Then just Daisy: "The flesh is a vessel. Those who have lain down in death rise up. The grave sings. They still breathe."
The TV flickers. Behind the screen, the ghostly image of a skull appears, CRTs plugged into its empty sockets, circuitry inlaid in whorls about its crown. For a moment, the image of sallow flesh superimposes itself on the skull. Then the picture appears again:
Pillbox hats place the time of the event in the 1960s. Endless rows of tombstones roll into the grainy middle distance. Kennedy is being laid down on his funeral barge. The Eternal Flame burns on its prow. She is veiled, she is visible only from the back, but the flip to her hair is unmistakable: this is Jackie Kennedy. She lays Excalibur on the fallen President's chest, which rises once, then falls.
Jacqueline steps back from the barge. The barge departs for open water, and Daisy continues to chant, voice faltering.
Viktor looks around, confused, and wonders what the whole point of this is, as he does not get it.
Abel looks around the room to see how many drink.
Penny surfaces slowly. From where? From somehere below the decks. Just before the screen starts to fill with snow, she grabs the mic from infront of Hiro and puts her lips to the metal mesh
"Bibamus," her voice a purr compared to Daisy's chanting. Like she isn't really speaking at all. The crowd stirs, comes alive at once with a responding cry inunison with Penny "moriendum est!"
Hanging onto the mic cord, Penny leans back on Hiro, forehead tucked into his shoulder. She's smiling. She screams at them, at Hiro's headphone'd ear "Omne ignotum pro magnifico est!" and they raise up their plastic cups to drink fast.
Hiro turns to face the console, and raises his cup towards the mob - now swelled to almost ten times it's original size. The crowd has grown more diverse while no-one was looking - punks and gutter trash intermingling with ravers.
A hundred drink with him.
Contents:
finishes unfolding the black silk cloth to its full dimensions eight feet across and six feet wide. He sets it down over the bathtub as directed. He shakes his head, "No blood I'm afraid. Whomever embalmed him either did it with magic or got rid of it." He sets down his staff for a moment and spreads the cloth out a bit over something, a form that was certainly not anything in the bathtub. He looks at it for a moment, concentrates and then, with an almost theatrical gesture, grabs one end of the black cloth and yanks, flinging it off of the headless corpse of one Chase Kettle, Esq.
Viktor
Taliesin
Alexandre
Daisy
Niko
Abel
Hiro
Obvious exits:
Wharf WH Streetside S
Hiro turns to face the console, and raises his cup towards the mob - now swelled to almost ten times it's original size. The crowd has grown more diverse while no-one was looking - punks and gutter trash intermingling with ravers.
A hundred drink with him.
"Drink to him," Daisy murmurs, dropping out of her chant. She grips the microphone with both hands, eyes beginning to roll into the back of her her head. "And if you have anything you wish you'd said to him -- you'd best say it quickly."
The moment of weakness, the break in her cadence, only lasts for a moment. Choking back tears, she continues:
“The grave is flesh. Those who have lain down still breathe. They still rise up. The flesh in death is become Osiris; the flesh of Osiris, divided, is become the gods. O Osiris, the Lord of Eternity, the flesh still sings to you. They still rise up. The grave rises up to sing to you. Those who have lain down in death have the flesh of Osiris. Those who have lain down still sing. O king; O Osiris The dead rise up and sing. Sing to the dead, O Osiris; the dead sing to you. They rise up. The grave rises up. Flesh becomes flesh. O Osiris, the dead still live. The flesh lives within us. There is no fear in us. Flesh becomes flesh. The grave sings to us."
"Rise up."
"Come back to us."
Hiro ducks down to retrieve a second record from the milk crate; sliding it smoothly onto the second turntable. One headphone is propped between shoulder and ear; he lays down the needle, giving the spindle a few quick twists. Hands move of their own accord; keying the sampler, bringing things into synch. His eyes are not on the decks; they are on the crowd. The speakers, still, give only their near-inaudible murmur.
Alexandre raises his cup in the air, whispers something to himself, then drinks the little bit quickly. He lowers his hand, looks around himself, then smiles slightly. He then manuevers out of the crowd he's found himself in.
Abel closes his eyes and bows his head, murmuring softly.
Taliesin seems to have gotten a cup from somewhere, and he closes his eyes finally before lifting it to drink with Hiro and the multitudes.
Abel mutters to Taliesin, "... One,... may perpetual..."
There is a stirring of something that starts just beyond the edge of perception. It hovers briefly above the forms on the dias, hanging there gently in mid-air supported by nothing at all. As eyes throughout the crowd lift to look upon the figure, it seemingly gains some semblance of solidity. To those who know him, the countenance is Chase Kettle, though now he is glorified. His eyes look down with fiery wisdom upon the gathered believers, arms outstretched as if to embrace them all in love.
Penny peels herself off Hiro's shoulder and hooks the mic back where it belongs. The few steps down to Daisy take her an eternity. Hands reach out to her, help her, guide her toward Daisy, move her in a back and forth weave. Dropping cups. Dropping. And looking up, staring at what could easily be part of the light show.
It's the beginning. "Daisy, daisy.." a whisper in the microphone. Together Penny and Daisy fail to collapse. Stoicly aright, they watch the crowd, sense the thing Hiro's about to do.
Hiro spreads his hands out across the decks, fingers hovering over the records in a gesture of silent supplication. Reflected in the lenses of his spectacles, glowing red numerals begin a backwards countdown from ten.
A wash of sound envelops the warehouse. The babel of a million disconnected voices, a million incomprehensible languages -- joined by the roar of the crowd. They are screaming; fists are raised; words loop back in on themselves, hidden microphone amplifying the screams, looping them over each other.
With a flourish of her arm, Daisy lifts the proferred plastic cup, then slumps in against Penny, trembling side pressed to hers. The beer is Keystone Light. The ergot is cheap blotter acid. The sentiment is the same.
"There ain't nothin' to fear," she says, maybe to Chase's apparition, maybe to Penny. "There ain't nothin'. There ain't nothin'. The grave sings to us."
Abel looks up at the figure of Chase... it's not the Chase he knew. He winces a bit at the screaming coming from the speakers.
And then: silence.
This is when the lights kick in.
Hiro drops his hands. With them, the curtains on the high warehouse windows drop -- the cavernous space flooded with the light of the rising sun. Head tilted back, he passes his hands over the console: once, twice.
...and a heavy baseline rises up out of the floor, music exploding over the sea of upturned faces. The roar returns - the unamplified screams competing with the music, which only grows louder.
A thumb hits the audio cut-out.
"Now, we forget. Dance, you fuckers."
Six beats. And music returns as a palable force.
The apparition that is Chase Kettle is robed in white glory, an angel to create the pinnacle of the Heaven side of the party. To the more astute observer, this is no manufactured light show, no tell tale flickering or imperfection, just a simple peace that somehow manages to be carried throughout the assembly on the wild death cries manufactured by Hiro's sound system.
And then, the figure seems to be raising its arm in a benediction. Its spectral fingers close once its right arm reaches the apex of its arc and curls into a fist. A single 'Oi' is heard in the silence preceeding the music, and the figure vanishes, rising up on invisible wings.
Abel blinks at Chase again. "Oi."
From afar (to Penny, Hiro, and Daisy), Cassius realizes that sometimes there are players who make it all worth it. ;)
"Til death do us start," a cup pressed into Penny's hand out of a thin circle of writhing limbs. She drinks long, her cup fuller than it should be, holding Daisy or holding to Daisy.
And they dance.
Those fuckers dance like angels on the head of a pin. All at once and without end, arms in the air. Groups of seven and seven and seven colliding, reforming, rolling into eachother and sliding like mercury.
Viktor yelps as he is suddenly assualted by a whole crowd. He starts making his way to the nearest side he can guestimate.
Abel gets pulled into a group of dancers. He looks a bit uncertain, then he glances back up to where Chase disappeared, and tries. He's slow to get into the rhythm of it, though... hesitant...
And then, Abel smiles... no... he grins. The flashing lights around him reflect off of his sun symbol, he closes his eyes, and he begins to feel the music... the Time of it in his body... and he dances. And he laughs.
Viktor falls onto the stage, having made it away from the masses and he gasps, being out of breath. It looks like he got beat up a little. A little wide eyed, he looks for an exit and starts going for it.
Penny thumbs off Daisy's microphone before she drops it and feedbacks the whole sound system. When it does fall, it goes unnoticed kicked underfoot with other empty cups. The swaying masses start moving faster and faster syncing up and out of time with the beats-per-second thumping out across the warehouse.
Glitter and feathers everywhere, shining in the light of day. Somber to ecstatic in split seconds, the music climbs to a new pitch.
Taliesin whirls into the crowd both hands holding his staff high above his head. He shifts and flows as though he is keeping track of the bodies of everyone in the room. His spinning movements make him look like a sort of human helicopter as he rolls on through the crowd.
There is an explosion of flowers from above... white lilies fall upon the dancing masses. Probably just another special effect arranged for by the party's hosts. The funeral flowers pirouette as they descend into the masses below.
Niko has remained on the fringes of the group, watching the goings on, smiling a bit as he sees some break into dance. He moves back from the throng towards the doors, not leaving yet, but seemingly not intent on getting trampled either
Abel dances with his eyes closed. He isn't a dancer, but this isn't really dance is it... this is... this is celebration... this is something unformulated... And though his eyes are closed, and he doesn't move as well as your average raver, he doesn't get trampled... he weaves in and out of the crowd... merging and melding with it.
It comes on in waves. Hiro, hunched over the tables, captures one side of his headphones between ear and shoulder; fingers on the vinyl. The music feeds on itself; echoing ouroboros of sound following its own tail. A crescendo, the beat grows faster, faster, and ...break, cut, gone, a moment of silence, the tide ebbed--
--only to return in a tsunami, a beat skipped, a thumb released from the audio cut: the floor explodes.
Viktor shoves a little through the crowd, and makes his way to /an/ exit. He gasps for air and is then promptly pushed out as a dancer jumps or gets wild. Crashing into the door, he makes his way out.
OOC> Alexandre must crash. Neat stuff. Bye!
Alexandre goes home.
Alexandre has left.
OOC> Hiro says "I hate to do this guys, but I really gotta crash. I had to get up hella early for a class."
OOC> Penny kinda has stuff in the morning, too. We'll do this next time NOT on a school night.
OOC> Taliesin says "Night Hiro."
OOC> Taliesin says "Night Penny."
OOC> Abel says "Night Guys"
Abel waeves his way through the crowd toward where Daisy and Penny are nearly crashed.
Niko smiles and if he catches the eyes of the hosts, nods softly before slipping ou tthe door himself
OOC> Hiro says "Hope you guys enjoyed the show. Next time, we'll actually throw a proper party ;)"
OOC> Abel says "great party"
OOC> Niko says "Very different :)"
OOC> Hiro says "Funerals are boring. -_^"
Hiro escapes OOC.
Hiro has left.
