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At From Hell Court:
Malachi *having left Alifi
at the house with the soul box and returned to his old apartment, takes a little time there, relaxes with a drink and a cigarette,
then decides he’d better get started seeing what he can find out. He leaves the apartment and walks further into
the Court, past the usual familiar taverns, then soon finds his way into a part of the Court he’s seldom frequented.
This section is no more or less sinister than the rest of the Court, but it comprises a unique demographic – mystics,
Gypsies, tagatis, shamans, fortune tellers, people who practice the various aspects of the dark magic, those who delve into
the supernatural and otherworldly beliefs. Malachi follows his instincts, and finds himself approaching a particular
tavern, much like all the rest, dim, smoky, one difference being that upon entering, he notices a heady incense permeating
the room. He takes a seat at the bar, orders a drink, lights a cigarette, looks around. Nothing strikes him as
particularly unusual, though the clientele is decidedly colorful. The barkeep sets his drink in front of him, he places
some money on the bar, picks up the glass and takes a drink, turns and continues to scan the room … then his eyes rest
on a Gypsy sitting at a table, shuffling and spreading cards from a Tarot deck, then picking them back up and shuffling again.
Malachi looks at him for a moment, absently thinking that the young man reminds him a little of Roux … then he blinks
as he notices the Gypsy is staring at him with intense eyes. He picks up his drink and without hesitation approaches
the Gypsy table, sits down across from him* Cheers, mate. I’m no stranger to mysticism, and as a matter
of fact, I believe in a great deal of it, as much from personal experience as what I’ve read and heard from others.
However … *waves a hand at the cards* … I’ve never been a big believer in the Tarot. *grins*
But then, maybe I’ve never met a practitioner who really knew what he was doing with it. *the Gypsy continues
to gaze at him as he shuffles the cards. He says nothing, but his expression is very intense, indicating he takes no
offense at Malachi’s words, and that he definitely has something to share specifically with him. Malachi, not
easily rattled by such things, takes a drag from his cigarette, shrugs* So … what have you got for me in there?
*nods toward cards*
The Gypsy: A penny for your thoughts, mister. *holds out his hand, Malachi
gives him the penny, amused* You will see that what I will read for you is worth
much more, but I am not into money. You have not yet met anyone who knows how
to read the Tarot. It is the same if you don't believe, and the cards don't mind
if I don't believe, they have the mind of their own. Sometimes they are of no
use at all, and sometimes they are very accurate ... Let's see if the cards are
interested in you. *He shuffles them again, then spreads them on the table in
a fan* Pick your card. *Malachi
reaches out for a card not caring to choose any, just the first one he happens to lay his hand on. The Gypsy turns the card and shows it to him.* The Magician
... Seems that it is your lucky day. You are going to perform some important
rite or ritual. You do have some power and some understanding, but you overestimate
yourself, though you may be a skilled alchemist, this task requires a different kind of alchemy. You can't do it on your own, and you lack the tools to do what you want.
Let's pick the first card. This is the reason, the base of the matter. *he lifts a card and places it below the Magician*
Four of swords. Rest from the strife of life, entombment … You are
about to open something to get someone out. I hope you are not trying to be a
necromancer. *lifts the third card* This
is what is hidden in your mind, but the cards know all secrets if they wish. A
lady, of course, it is always a lady. And I see that she is not within your reach,
the Queen of Cups is distant and cold, but benevolent, she is the water in frozen form, and often she represents the
women lost to us forever, dead or gone otherwise. A blonde woman dwells in your
mind, mister. Does this make any sense?
*notes the smirk on Malachi’s face when he mentions the blonde woman* Shall
we go on?
Malachi *thinking of Manouche,
tries to imagine a blonde woman he’s aware of that the Gypsy could be referring to, cannot think of anyone. He then smirks, annoyed with himself for trying to manipulate his own thoughts to fit with
the reading, so that the cards make some sense. But then he considers the Four
of Swords – “you are about to open something to get someone out”
– and he glances at the Gypsy, his cynicism wrestling with his desperation to free Manouche. He nods* Agreed, son.
Let’s go on. *he reaches in a pocket, pulls out a few more coins,
sets them on the table*
The Gypsy *quickly pockets
the coins* I see that you are not totally unimpressed, Mr. Alchemist. Let's go on. Here is how you feel. Eight of swords ... A dark lady bound, unable to get out of
a nightmare. There's a second lady for you. Are
you feeling desperate over her? Here is what you have to do. *lifts the next card, grins as he sees that he has caught Malachi's attention.* I told you that you were lucky tonight, the cards speak to you. I
can see that you know what I am talking about.
*An elderly man with grey piercing eyes and beard eyes them with interest*
May I sit down at the table. I would
need a reading too. I can't say I never believed in any cards, but I am at my
wit’s end and need some guidance, anywhere. I hope you were not speaking
of the opening of a tomb?
The Gypsy: By all means, mister. But it isn't your turn yet. The dark lady is not dead if that
is what you mean, otherwise we would have got a Ten of Swords. Not a tomb. Rather more like a nightmare. She
is shut in and can't escape. The next card, Mr. Alchemist, the next card is what
you have to do. *shows him the card* Six
of Pentacles. Balancing and paying ... You
must give to receive. I see a need for an exchange here. But it is not money you have to provide. Do you want me to
continue? I can tell you what you strive towards and what and who you need, to
do what you are trying. And the last card is the outcome. The Fate. Are you sure you want to hear it all?
Malachi *glances at the elderly
man, then back to the Gypsy. He looks down at the cards, his mind racing. He keeps thinking it must be a trick, but how could it be? He concentrates, using his dreamer abilities, tries to see whether the Gypsy is a fake; but he senses no
fraud, no manipulation. He feels relieved that the cards indicate that Manouche
is alive, though he felt all along that she was … but he’s deeply concerned to think of her suffering, what she
must be going through. He swallows, takes a drink, sets the glass down, reaches
in his pocket, brings out more coins, sets them on the table* It may not be money
I have to provide for the outcome I want … *smirks* … but I have a feeling it’ll help oil the machine that’s
feeding me the information. *quickly puts a hand up* No offense intended at all, friend, I believe you deserve it. If
you can help me with this, it’s money very well spent. No regrets. *takes another drink, wipes his brow with a sleeve, looks at the Gypsy intently* I want to hear it all. I have to help
her, there’s no time to lose. *lowers his voice, adds, with a humble tone
that people seldom hear from him* Please … help me.
At Chez Roux:
F Connolly *arrives as Chez Roux; he scans the room and quickly spots O’Malley sitting in
a booth opposite a young man who Father Connolly guesses is Donnie. He walks
over to them and takes the seat next to O’Malley. Smiles as he greets her* Hello Grace, hope you are well today. *Turns
to Donnie* And you must be Donnie.
Donnie *smiles as they shake hands; looks at the Father sternly*
Hello …
O’Malley *smiles; amused as she senses the tension between the two men* ‘Ello there, mate. Aye, I am well. *Casts a lovingly look on Donnie* Very well.
F Connolly *notices Donnie’s watchful eyes and instantly knows that he must be careful; nothing
will get past the young man’s attention; smiles to O’Malley* That
is good to hear. I just hope you don’t get too wrapped up in … being
well, so you forget to practise.
O’Malley: No worries, I ‘ave been practising
ev’ry day ... improvin’ me skills an’ even discoverin’ a few new tricks.
F Connolly *almost forgetting all about Donnie glaring at him suspiciously; his attention focused
on O’Malley; keenly* Really? Such
as?
O’Malley *the Father’s keen interest arouses the uneasy feeling she’s had about
him; casually* Oh nothin’ major … little things that I reckon are
jus’ part o’ the Wicca an’ shaman cocktail that be me.
F Connolly: No specifics, eh? Well, you are entitled to have your secrets of course. *Imploringly* As long as you feel you can handle it on your own.
Donnie *coldly* She can handle herself just fine, Father.
F Connolly *deciding a change of subject might be a good idea; turns to Donnie with a smile* So how is it to be back on the ship? Must
be strange not to have steady ground under your feet. As I understand it, you’re
not a sailor.
Donnie: No, I’m not a sailor, but I don’t
mind the ship … it’s nice to be rocked to sleep at night next to your girl.
F Connolly: I suppose so … but still, I could
imagine it would get old eventually … of course, with the two of you not being married; forever is hardly in the picture.
O’Malley *Noticing Donnie’s furious expression and quickly cuts in before he can say
anything* Best not te push it, Father.
Wedlock ne’er guarantees a ‘appy e’er after, mate.
F Connolly *resigned* Ah yes, no moral lectures. *Smiles* Force of habit.
Donnie *glares at him* Maybe it’s time to change
habits.
F Connolly: I’ll take that into consideration. *Rises* Now if you’ll excuse me,
I have somewhere to be. *Nods a goodbye and takes off*
At From Hell Court:
The Gypsy *to Malachi* I am not into money, but neither am I against it.
Let us see how you can save her. If you can. So, here is what you strive towards, though it may be a useless card since you yourself already provided
the answer. *Lifts the card, smiles* The
Star ... You are reaching high, Mr. Alchemist. This dark lady clearly is not
for you. Don't look so disappointed, I am sure you know it yourself. And now we will save her. *draws the next card* This is very interesting, very interesting. This card tells
you what to do - Six of Cups, that is dream. *looks at him sharply* A dreamer ... Yes, I see that you are one. Very remarkable.
Then it really means that she is imprisoned somewhere in a dream world and ...
The eldery man *interrupts him* Dreamers? What do you know about dreamers? Do they really exist then? Oh, to be
able to find a dreamer ... *turns to Malachi*
Then you may have what I am looking for ... knowledge of a hidden object that draws dreamers to itself.
The
Gypsy *annoyed* Your turn will be later.
Yes, you need the capabilities of dreamers. And the next one tells who
you need for it. *he turns the card and shows Malachi* Knight of Cups - a sensitive man ... He must be connected to that Queen of Cups in some way, and as it
is cups we are getting, I assume that he is a dreamer, too. You can't do it alone. Find the man. He can help you.
Malachi *distracted by the
elderly man, and trying hard to figure out what the Gypsy’s words mean, feeling impatient, mumbles briefly to the man* Yes, dreamers exist, mate, you’re looking at one. *He turns back to the Gypsy, exasperated* I – I don’t
understand … all this about a blonde woman … a sensitive man … that sounds like Blake, but he’s not
a dreamer, though he … he always seemed to know just what to say to her, just how to … how to make her feel better.
But he’s not a dreamer, and he’s gone … *lowers his head, runs both hands through his hair, thinking. All the words and the cards' meanings go through his head, and he looks up, glares
at the Gypsy for a moment, ready to argue a point* She’s not for me, is
she? Who’s to say? You? I … I suppose I am reaching high, but why shouldn’t I? Why should she be alone? Why should I be alone? We understand each other well, we have a history, we care about each other … *then the fight goes
out of him, and he sighs* Never mind, I can’t believe I’m getting
into all that right now, and to a total stranger. *shakes head, lights a cigarette* Apologies, friend … none of that matters right now, what matters is saving her. A blonde woman … is there anything else you can show me? Any other clue about who the man could be? If that's all you
have to tell me, then I guess I’ll be on my way … I need a quiet place to focus, then maybe it’ll all
come to me. *smiles slightly, holds his hands out* Dreamer.
The Gypsy: I am not the one to tell you anything, mate. It's the cards,
it's what they say. She is not for you. That
is what the cards tell. You can do as you please, but there's no use in fighting
against fate. *takes one card and puts it down on the table.* And you are too hasty. You forget the outcome. The last cards. But as for your question
about the man, he is a dreamer, and he is connected to a blonde woman, but she is distant. She
could be far away or she could be dead. Start looking for a dreamer, I can't
tell you more. But you have yourself to have some connection to him and the blonde
woman, or they to that dark Star woman of yours. *Puts his hand on the final
card, turns it slowly* This is the outcome of your mission. *Lets both Malachi and the other man stare a while at the card labeled Justice, with a seated woman holding
a balance and a sword* Justice. You
are being judged. If your intentions are pure, you will succeed. If not, you will fail miserably and fall under the sword. So,
it is now all up to you. Think what you want to do and why, and think about it
very carefully. You will get that lady from the bo---- sorry, nightmare, if you
do it the right way and for the right reasons. You are the dreamer, mate, dream
up the missing links before it is too late. *and with a grin, he collects the
cards and vanishes in the crowd*
The man *suspiciously* Lady in a box
... *looks sharply at Malachi* He slipped it deliberately. He wanted to give me a cue. This is such a weird place. I have been hanging out for weeks trying to find a missing object. The only clue I have is that it was stolen by a man called Dean Corso and it was brought to Deppville.
*grabs Malachi by the sleeve, whispers, agitated* It is the box, isn't it, he
knows that you know where the box is ... We can make a deal, I know what those
cards meant ... You want to get someone out of it, isn't it so?
Malachi *gazes after the
disappearing back of the Gypsy, then turns to the man grasping his sleeve. He
looks at him blankly for a moment, his head too filled with thoughts for the man’s words to register, but finally it
hits him what he’s saying, and he stares at him, wide-eyed* Y-you know
about the box? Corso stole it? I
could’ve sworn he said he bought it … typical. *shakes his head,
thinking of Corso’s shifty ways, then turns back to the man, concentrates, decides he can trust him* I’m gonna level with you. Yes, I know exactly where
that blasted box is, and yes, I’m trying to get someone out of it. A woman,
a dreamer … like myself. *looks down for a moment, thinks hard, rubs his
eyes, mutters softly, as if talking to himself* Of course my reasons are pure,
how could they not be? I just want to save her, is all. I don't care what happens between us ... I just want to save her.
*pauses, raises his eyes, to the man* I – I’m pretty sure
I understand what the cards meant, but … I’m still so confused on some of what he said. *reaches for his glass, drains it, looks at the man again* Go
ahead, tell me what you can, maybe it’ll trigger something in my mind, something I’m missing. I’m all ears. But when you’re done, if I’m
not any closer to solving the mystery than I am right now, then if you don’t mind, I’m going home to consider
all this. A little quiet solitude, it’s the best way for me to clear my
head and think. *lights a cigarette, turns to him, focusing* Let’s hear it.
The man: I have been trying to unravel the secret of the soul box for years and years, I have read everything I
have found, even some rare manuscripts that no other eyes than mine have seen for centuries.
I understand that a live person is trapped in the box, and to me, that is impossible.
It has been said that only a dreamer can survive being alive in the box, but the box is not meant for living souls,
it is for preserving the important dead ones, it eats the live persons slowly until they are only shadows, unable to escape
it, unable to die. Whatever are the reasons that she got there, you have to get
her out. I have read that one keeper of they key managed to escape, but he had
they key. It has never been verified, though, but this is the story. He had someone who raised him from the box, and as I said, he had a key, and he had to leave that key with
the box once he got in with it, and you can't leave the box with the key and you can't leave the key without a keeper in the
box. It has to have a keeper. So
I heard that they substituted a spirit, a dead but immortal soul for the living keeper, and he took over the key ... That
is what I know. Now, I suspect that the blonde woman, the distant one, the one
who is not here, could mean be the substitute. The gypsy said that you have to
perform an exchange. Now, you have to find another dreamer to be able to accomplish
it with you. One of you is not enough ...
Alas, I am no dreamer, but don't you dreamers recognize each other? You
must know someone with the same ability? Can't you try to reach out, call that
man? I don't know how the dreamer mind works, but aren't you able to contact
each other on the higher level. Can I come with you? I would love to set my eyes on this fabulous box one time in my life.
Malachi *his concern deepening
with the man’s words, he can’t stop thinking of Manouche, and how he must get her out before it’s too late* Th-the woman who’s in the box right now, she’s a dreamer … and she’s
a Gypsy … and she has the key … but she shouldn’t be there, she’s alive, she's not dead, it’s
all a mistake … *he feels tears filling his eyes, blinks them away angrily, he mustn’t lose control or he’ll
be useless* … The blonde woman … and the man, another dreamer, who was the Gypsy talking about, I can’t
… *his voice trails off, and suddenly something comes to him – a jumble of images, a blonde woman with something
around her neck, he can’t quite make it out at first, and he’s not sure who the woman is … he gets a closer
look at the pendant, sees that it’s actually a strange key … he then sees the woman’s face, and she’s
no longer a blonde woman … it’s Manouche, looking very frightened, and his heart beats faster … then he
looks back down at the key again, then looks back up and it's no longer Manouche, but the blonde woman, and she’s
arguing with someone, tearful, accusing:*
I feel alone even when you are with me. You are so distant and cold. What is wrong? Why can't you talk to
me? Why don't you even want to look at me?
I am sick and tired and frightened, and you are just leaving me because of some idiotic investigation.
*The woman begins to cry,
then Malachi hears a very familiar voice, one he knows well:*
Please, Victoria, don’t …
Malachi *whispers, aloud* Oh my god … ABBERLINE … and Victoria … his wife … *he turns to the man, excitedly, grabs his shoulders* It’s
Abberline! He’s a dreamer! Of
course. God, I’m such an idiot, how could I not see … *stands up
quickly* I’ve got to run, friend … you’re welcome to follow,
if you can keep up, but I’ve really got to hurry. *he bolts from the room,
out the door, running for all he’s worth to Bournemouth House*
In the box:
Manouche *shivering violently,
the horror of her surroundings on an upswing again. The voices around her are
louder than ever, deeply mournful, sending a chill through her to the very marrow of her bones. The tingling, feverish feeling is back, too, and she braces herself … she’s beginning to wonder
if she’ll ever get out … she’s beginning to forget that there was ever any other existence for her other
than this one. To offset her horror, she tries to fill her head with things she
knows by heart – poetry, songs, fiction, anything, just to keep her sanity, because she’s afraid if she doesn’t,
she’ll soon start to chime in with the voices around her, and then she’ll become one of them and there will be
no hope for her. She recites out loud, trying to control her chattering teeth*
“I-it was th’ best o’ times … it w-was th-the w-w-worst o’ times … it was …
th’ age o’ w-wisdom, it w-was th’ age o’ f-foolishness … it – it was th’ season
o’ light, it was th’ s-s-season o’ dd-darkness … ”
Youngish man *suddenly right
by her side* Hey, gypsy dreamer …
Manouche *glances at him,
startled* Wh-where’d y’come from … wh-wh-what do y’ want
…
Youngish man *shrugs* I’ve just been listening, and watching you … why do you fight it? Why don’t you give up?
Manouche: G-give up what? N-nothin’ t’ give up, mate …
I – I’m jus’ b-bidin’ me time, s-savvy? Y-ye said it
yerself, th-that I c-can get outta ‘ere …
Youngish man: I didn’t say it. That was one of the others. What I said was that you can do wondrous things from here. Y’know,
if you think about it, I bet you do your friends more good from in here than you do out there.
Manouche *looks at him sharply* Wh-what’d ye say?
Youngish man: Just a thought. Look at all you’ve done from here already,
and you haven’t been here long at all. You brought a man back from the
dead, you calmed an unborn baby, you helped a young boy transfer a spirit from one body to another … you fixed a broken
wrist … well, okay, that one wasn’t that big a deal. But you probably
couldn’t have done it from out there … *he motions upward*
Manouche: Th-that’s as m-m-may be, but … me resources are l-limited, ain’t they? I … I can’t p-perform them heroics forever, c-can I?
Youngish man: No, I guess not. But … how bad do you really want to
go back there, anyway? Why? What’s
so great about it? Who’s to say that the interfering you did when you were
there was for the best? Even your friend whose life you saved … maybe he
didn’t want to be saved, did you ever think of that? He’s probably
got a deceased loved one he misses. He’d probably like to get back to her. You’re not helping him, getting in his way like that. *looks at her carefully* But you don’t look so good
… I don’t guess you have the resources to do that again, anyway, even if you wanted to.
Manouche *brings her arms
around her shoulders more tightly* Why dd-don’t ye s-sod off? Either that or … g-g-get t’ whatever point yer t-tryin’ t’ make, an’ leave
me alone.
Youngish man: No need to get huffy. I just thought I would offer you a break. *pauses, looks at her sternly* They’re
not coming for you. If they were, they would’ve gotten you out by now. It’s been a long time, they have no idea how to do it. The only chance you have is if you get rid of that key.
Manouche *scowls, despite
her misery* Y-yer daft! It’s
m-me only way out of ‘ere …
Youngish man: It was. It was when you were stronger. But you should see yourself. The ones on the outside wouldn’t
even know you. You’re fading, you’re becoming one of them …
*points up at the chaos of wailing souls flying around them, like mournful bats* I’m
just suggesting that you give up, add your considerable energy to the box. It’s
not as bad as it seems. *pauses, then puts his hand out* C’mon, give me the key, put an end to all this. You’ll
have your share of torment, but it’ll be better than this misery of being in limbo.
Manouche *manages a laugh* You! D-don't be soft. If I’m g-g-givin’ th’ key up t-to anyone, it ain’t goin’ t’ be you.
Youngish man *leans closer,
hisses in her ear* You stupid fool, you’re just putting off the inevitable. *the voices around them suddenly raise pitch to a horrible shrill frequency, and Manouche
winces, brings her hands up to cover her ears. He grabs her hands, pulls them
down, makes her listen* Go on, get the full effect … get used to it, it’s
your lot! Now give me the key … *he reaches for the chain around her neck,
starts to grab it. She yells in protest, reaches up to snatch it away from him;
but before either of them can get a hand on it, the key moves on its own, evades his grasp, and adheres to Manouche’s
chest, much as it did her fingers when the strange creature tried to take it from her.
She cries out as it quickly heats up and burns her; the man curses and tries to grab it again*
Older woman #2 *yelling* THAT’S ENOUGH! *she grabs the man
by the ear, like a small, misbehaving child*
Youngish man: OWW! What’re you doing?
Older woman #2: If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now get away from her this instant! *man whines at her painful
grasp of his ear, quickly releases Manouche and backs away. The woman lets him
go, he snarls an insult or two at them both, frowns sullenly, then slinks off into the mist, soon out of sight. She shakes her head, then turns to Manouche* Apologies, dreamer,
are you all right?
Manouche *gasping, brings
her hand up to the key, finds that it’s cooled back to normal and is no longer adhered to her flesh. She feels gingerly with her fingers where the key scorched her skin; though it’s painful, it’s
not serious. She then starts to laugh*
Older woman #2 *puzzled* What’re you laughing about?
Manouche *wipes her eyes* It s-sttruck me funny, s’ all … ye askin’ if I’m s-sound …
an’ me ch-checkin’ a lil’ burn … as if it m-matters ‘ere.
As if ANYthing m-m-matters ‘ere. *looks at her* D-don’t get me w-w-wrong, luv, I app-ppreciate yer c-concern … b-but as ye inf-formed me, I
can’t d-die ‘ere.
Older woman #2: Yes, that’s true, you can’t die here. *she looks
at her curiously, then she’s suddenly gone as quickly as she appeared, and Manouche once again stands alone in the mist*
Manouche *swallows* Aye … m-more’s th’ b-bleedin’ pity. *she glances overhead miserably as the voices still show no sign of abating, and she resumes her recitation* “I-it was th’ s-spring o’ hope, it w-w-was th’ winter o’
despair … we ‘ad everythin’ b-beffore us, w-we ‘ad nothin’ b-before us … w-wwe were all
g-goin’ direct t’ Heaven … w-we were all goin’ d-ddirect th’ other w-way … ”
At From Hell Court / Bournemouth House:
The man *running after Malachi,
excited* You saw something! This
is amazing. Then you know who it is? *out
of breath* Wait .. for ... me, I am too .. old for ... these races. *Malachi doesn't answer, and the man is afraid of losing him out of sight, when he suddenly stops in front
of a house, a neat, ordinary house that looks nothing like a dreamer would choose* Is
this the right place?
Malachi *nods, breathless* This is the place … for now. *knocks
on the door* Abberline! Are you
there? It’s Malachi, I need your help …
Abberline *opens the door
and eyes him suspiciously, but his expression changes in an instant and he swallows the words he was going to say* Manouche?
It's Manouche? I can't reach her at all, she has blocked me out... and I have been trying to find a way but I don't know what
I could do..
Malachi *very relieved when
Abberline answers the door, but then he seems somewhat at a loss* Oh, god …
Abberline, I don’t completely understand what’s going on, and I’m not exactly sure what we should do, either,
but I … I know it’s you, you’re the one, you’re the other dreamer.
We can’t get her out without your help. C-can you come to her old
house? That’s where the box is … maybe if we’re both there
with it, we’ll figure it out. On the way there, I’ll tell you about
what I learned a little while ago, maybe it'll make sense to you. *looks over
at the elderly man, as if suddenly remembering he’s there* Oh … sorry,
mate. Ahh, Inspector, this man knows something about the it all, I can tell from
things he said. He … he says he’s knowledgeable on the boxes, I think
he can help us. He’s … *snaps fingers* Wh-what’s your name, mister, where are you from?
Abberline *before that man
has a chance to answer, stares at him* I know you. I have seen you, I remember you from Fiji, you were
the one who told me about some map, but we haven't time for an introduction now, we have to get her out immediately, I can't
feel her anymore, we'll talk later. *slams the door shut and joins them*
At Alifi’s house:
Malachi *followed by Abberline
and the elderly man, knocks briefly on the door, then doesn’t wait, opens the door, bursts in, sees Alifi pulling the
box out from its place under the table*
Alifi *looks up at him, smiles
slightly, though her expression is grave* I – I hoped you were on your way ...
Malachi *nods, helps her
pull the box out into the middle of the room. They all gather around it, Malachi crouched down, his hands on it, he’s
suddenly trembling. He looks up at the elderly man* Mister, do you know what we do next? *looks at Abberline* I … I saw a vision … I saw … I saw Victoria … I think we need her spirit to do this … *glances back at the man anxiously* Isn’t that right? The Queen of Cups …
Abberline *stares at the
soul box like it could trap him again, but he knows he has to approach it again, and he takes a step nearer* Queen of Cups? Victoria? I - I don't understand what you are talking about.
The man *to Malachi,
also staring at the soul box, but his expression is of great awe.* The soul box.
Finally. *He follows Malachi and
is about to put his hand on it, then takes it away, turns to Abberline* You will
understand, just touch the box, feel it ...
Abberline *stammering* I don't
know if I can ... *hesitates, and the man grabs his hand and puts it on the surface of the box, and he sees the box dissolve
and give a way to some hazy misty landscape he knows too well, and then he sees a shape who moves slowly closer, enfolded
in white light and shrouded in a mist,but he still can recognize her* Victoria
.... *Malachi and the man stare at him, not understanding what is happening*
The
man: Mister, keep your hand on the box, concentrate your thoughts on the woman
you want to rescue, your strength is needed here, she can't do it on his own, she is not strong enough, hold on .....
Victoria
*looks sorrowfully at Abberline* Goodbye, my dear, it is time for me to go for
good ... You have to be strong now, because I need all the strength I can to do what I have to do ...
Abberline: Don't go ....
Victoria: It is either you or her, my dear. You have to choose now.
Abberline:
I can't make such a choice, Victoria, I can't
let go of you.
Victoria: Then you will lose her.
Abberline:
No!
Victoria: I see that
you have made a choice, and I am happy for you and I shall return her to you ... The living belong with the living and the
dead should be forgotten with time ... *and she floats out of his vision, towards Manouche, who is miserable and freezing
... *
In the box:
Manouche *shivering, arms
clutched around her, her eyelids getting heavy … she feels herself slipping away, she knows it, the voices aren’t
hurting her so much anymore, they’re beckoning … the man she talked to earlier was right, this will be so easy
… so much better than standing here alone and miserable. Besides, he mentioned
“adding her energy” to the box … maybe that means she can still do some good for her friends. As she starts to succumb to the voices, she feels some of the chill go away, and she lowers her arms …
then, just as she feels she’s about to move toward them, she sees a figure approaching her … she blinks, peers
through the mist, trying to see … the woman comes closer and closer, floating gently, and Manouche gasps as she recognizes
her from the pictures she’s seen* B-by th’ powers … V-Victoria
… *Manouche is stunned by her beauty and can't help but speak outright about it* Blimey, yer a s-smasher
... it's n-nno wonder h-he were s-so in love with ye ... *she stares, eyes wide, as Victoria comes close, stands right next
to her*
Victoria *smiles at her and takes her hands* But he loves you now. He released me finally, all these years I have struggled to free myself, but he hasn' let me go ... I want peace at last, and I want to settle to rest. I got tied to this box because of him, but I understand now that it all had a meaning. I am here for you. You must get away now, they are waiting
for you, and they are providing me with the energy I need to set you free, but they can't hold on for long. Give me the key and return back to the living, sister. I want
to close the lid on the living world forever, but you don't belong here, fly bird, escape while you can.
Manouche *stares at her,
tears fill her eyes* Ahh, but luv … y-ye don’t know what yer s-sayin’
… *then she concentrates, notices how things change once Victoria takes her hands. The voices settle down to a low hum, and the mist that surrounds them feels soothing,
no longer dank and chilly … and in a flash, she realizes Victoria is right. She sees that Victoria won’t suffer in the
box, she’ll rest … and she’ll keep the box safe from their enemies, as long as she is the keeper of the
key, the box will no longer be able to corrupt. Manouche releases Victoria’s hands, slowly reaches into her shirt, pulls out the key, and it sparkles.
She pulls the chain over her head, takes Victoria’s hand, places it in her palm, along with the chain, and she’s amazed
that the key doesn’t move, doesn’t heat up, doesn’t try to adhere to her.
It passes from her hand to Victoria’s, and tears stream down Manouche’s face as a sense of peace fills
the little confine in the billowing mist. She gazes at Victoria* A-are ye sure? An’
… will they all be safe, now? Kat an’ ‘er healer baby? Th’ Inspector, an’ Raven? …
th’ Wonkas, Malachi, Alifi, all me mates? … Melissa … an’
…
Victoria *smiles, brings
a hand up as if to stop her from naming everyone in the town one by one; she takes Manouche by the shoulders and kisses her
on the cheek, then releases her and stands back slightly.*
Manouche *gazes at her, tears
in her eyes, murmurs* Merci, la belle dame, la reine de tasses … *she then
feels herself being pulled under, into the mire again, like before … she can’t catch her breath, but this time
she tries not to panic, knowing that only makes it worse … then she feels the weight of the air around her again, as
if she’s being squeezed through something, propelled, not of her own volition; she can’t see anything around her,
and she fears she’ll faint from the pressure … and the next thing she knows, she’s lying on the living room
floor of her old house, covered in the strange liquidy substance, next to the box, coughing, gasping for breath, her eyes
stinging from the light in the room after being in the darkness for so long … she looks up and sees Alifi, Malachi,
Abberline, and a man she doesn’t recognize, all staring at her … she starts to say something, then her eyes roll
back, and she collapses flat on the floor, unconscious*
Abberline *being unable to
see or sense anything after Victoria left him and disappeared in the mists, stares at Manouche, who lies still unconscious,
the strange substance she was covered with begins to melt, but she looks pale and cold, and he drops on his knees, weakened
by the energy transfer that seemed to take place, he takes her in his arms and presses her tight against his chest, forgetting
all the others in the room* You are back, my love, you are finally back. *and he starts to kiss her on the face*
Manouche *slowly coming to,
aware of someone holding her close, slowly opens her eyes, looks at Abberline, dazed, surprise registering on her face, then
she smiles slightly* Inspector … regular Prince Charmin’, ain’t
ye? *glances down at some of the stuff that remains on her* Careful, luv, ye’ll ruin yer clothes …
Malachi *crouches down next
to them* “My love??” *smirks* I think Kat may have something to say about that … and she’ll probably
say it with a shovel. *starts to take Manouche from him, Abberline glares at
him*
Alifi *glances at the elderly
man, who’s watching everything in stunned silence, and she quickly takes a hand.
She jumps down, quickly sweeps Manouche into her arms* That’s enough,
both of you! I know you both mean well, but you’re going to smother her. I’ll take care of her. I suggest
you two tend to our guest here …. *she nods toward the stranger* Inspector,
you better sit down and give yourself a little tiime to recover, you've been through a lot yourself. Malachi, dear,
please get us all some drinks, especially a brandy for Manouche, it’ll help bring her around. Move, now! *she helps Manouche up onto the sofa, stretches
her out, starts to wipe away some of the remaining residue. Speaks softly to
her, smiling gently* Easy, bird, just breathe, nice and even …
Abberline *recovers, drops
in an armchair, still glaring at Malachi, he lights a cigarette with shaky fingers*
The man *approaching him but now
and then casting a glance a the box* I would like to know what happened. Was she really the keeper of the key? I
have never heard of anyone escaping from the box alive.
Abberline *wryly* Then
your records need an update. I can't tell you what happened. I don't know.
The man: Maybe now is the time of introduction
though I recall us meeting in Fiji. I thought I had the real mapl but then I run into problems with pirates and
failed my mission. Arthur Godalming is the name. I think I never introduced me to you. I was dabbling in black magic those
times and joined a secret society. I believed I could achieve mighty deeds with the box, but later I came to realize that
I was fortunate in not finding it. Then it was stolen, and since I have been trying to find it. I hope it hasn't caused much
damage here. *turns to Malachi* So that is my story. What is yours?
Malachi *bringing drinks
to everyone, starts with a brandy for Manouche, leans down and hands it to Alifi; he looks at Manouche, his eyes dark with
concern, and he brushes the hair back from her face, murmurs* Trouble girl, you
had us so bloody scared … *Manouche blinks, still dazed, but smiles weakly at him as Alifi carefully tips the brandy
to her lips. Malachi stands, pours drinks for the rest of them, brings one to
Abberline, glaring at him, then hands one to Goldalming* Me? Name’s Malachi … I’ve known a little about these boxes since my time in Fiji, but I’ve … learned a lot more about ‘em in recent times.
*he nods toward the box, still setting in the middle of the room* That
one hasn’t caused so much trouble … but those in pursuit of it have caused a HELL of a lot of trouble. *he drinks, looks over at Manouche* I’ve known her for
a long time … I always knew she was capable of more than she thought she was.
But … *he looks at Alifi, blinks back tears, wipes them away impatiently*
… she surprised even me this time.
Manouche *looks at Godalming* I – I can tell ye what ‘appened, mate, once I … once I recover,
an' get me bearin’s again, as it were. *she glances over at Abberline,
troubled* Fred … I … I saw Victoria …
sh-she’s th’ new keeper of th’ key. She … she explained
t’ me, we talked … she’s … she’s a great lady. She’s
very fine. *eyes fill with tears* A-apologies,
luv, I … I know ye ‘aven’t wanted t’ let ‘er go …
Alifi *pats her cheek* No worries, bird, everything happened just the way it was supposed to. Victoria can rest now. *she turns to look
at Abberline, gazes at him sympathetically* It was the Inspector’s choice,
and he made the right one. He knows that.
*turns back to Manouche, smiles* Everything will be fine, now. The box is safe, you’re safe … just rest. There’ll
be plenty of time for you to tell us all about it.
Manouche *looks over at the
box, trembles, then looks back at Abberline, smiles slightly* I … I reckon
we’re both survivors o’ th’ blasted thing, aren’t we, luv? Now
that I know firsthand what ye went through … *her voice trails off, she shivers again, then she looks at Alifi* Wh-what should we do with it, now? Should
we turn it over to th’ Guardians? *looks at Godalming* Or per’aps this bloke can take it …
Abberline *watching Manouche,
glares at Malachi when he touches Manouche but keeps quiet, not really listening to Godalming or Alifi, to Manouche* She is
gone, but the most important thing is that you are back. *snatches the drink from Malachi and puts it on the sidetable* No
one who knows what it is like to be there understands how dangerous it is - or rather has been. *shudders, to Godalming* How
did you find out what to do with the box?
Godalming *trying to contain his enthusiasm for Manouche's proposition* Our
friend Malachi here can tell more about it. Even if it may be harmless it can still attract all kind of fortune seekers, and
who knows what may happen. There is now a new keeper of the key.... *turning first to Abberline and then to Manouche* So the
Inspector is one of those who have been alive in the box? How could you survive it? You both have to tell me all you know
about the box and how it is to be inside it. There is still so much to know and research... *then coughs* Excuse me, I got
carried away. I know it must have been a harrowing experience. But you could leave the box with me. I will find it a good
resting place.
Abberline: Give it to me. After all it is now Victoria's resting place.
Manouche *nods* That makes some sense, don’t it? *lifts up slightly,
looks at Abberline, concerned* But ye’d ‘ave t’ find a secure
place fer it, mate. It could still cause some trouble, ay? I … I couldn’t bear it if anythin’ terrible were to ‘appen to ye because ye ‘ave
th’ cursed thing under yer roof.
Alifi *gently pushes Manouche
back down* Shhh, easy, love, take it easy … *she helps her drink a little
more of the brandy*
Malachi: We need to at least let the Guardians know what happened. They’ve
been trying to solve this mystery, too. They’ve been surprisingly helpful
when they didn’t need to be … they deserve to have a say in this. *looks
at Abberline, grins sardonically* You might want to ask your wife what she thinks
of having that thing in your house, Inspector. It could be inviting trouble,
I suppose she would have a right to know. If it were me, I would offer her some
say in the matter. *shrugs* But
that’s just me. *he takes another drink, lights a cigarette*
Abberline *gently to Manouche*
What harm could it do to me with her inside? Don't worry yourself about it, you need to rest and gain your strength back. *he turns to Malachi* If I ever happen to need your advice, I'll ask for it, but I
doubt it will happen. And leave my wife out of this.
Godalming *looking at the box* I don't think any of you should
take it. And I am not sure about the Guardians either. I would love to see them for real, even once... They are not good or
bad in themselves, just men who were remarkable and whose only goal is to guard the box. But the location of the Circle
Temple is nowadays too well known... I think that the box should go away and be forgotten by this world
and become a legend, just as it were before. Now that I see it in front of my eyes, I wish I hadn't. It is the quest that
matters. I have dedicated my life to finding it, and now that it is here, what is left for me?
Alifi *looks at Godalming,
smiles* Why, Mr. Godalming, there’s plenty left for you. You can now write of your experiences, you can write about your search.
*motions toward Abberline and Manouche* And here you have two people …
both dreamers … who can give you firsthand accounts of having been inside the box.
That is, when and if they’re willing to do so. And beyond that,
there are the Guardians … I imagine they’ll be amiable to a meeting. They’ve
become surprisingly human lately … *she grins at Malachi* But whatever
you do, don’t let them hear any of us say that! *she pulls a comforter
from the back of the couch, places it over Manouche, who has started to shiver again, looks back at Godalming* And if that isn’t enough for you, beyond that, you’ll no doubt become very famous … tours,
lectures, book signings … Oh, I wouldn’t worry about ennui setting in for a good long time, luv.
Manouche *grasps Alifi’s
arm* Alifi, luv, I want t’ go home.
When can I go? An’ how’s Wilko, is he sound?
Alifi *smiles gently at her* No worries, dear, he’s fine. We’ve
been making sure he gets fed. He’s as noisy and chipper as ever. Just rest a bit, we’ll get you home as soon as you’re strong enough.
Malachi *to Godalming* I can probably find the Leader, bring him here.
I imagine he’ll be willing to talk to you. Let me know where you’re
staying in town. *pauses, turns to Abberline, grudgingly* Inspector, I apologize … I was out of line. After all
… we couldn’t have saved Manouche without you. *takes out his cigarettes,
offers one to Abberline*
Godalming: Yes, I suppose you are right, there still is much to do. It
is still hard for me to understand that. I was set chasing a legend by my society,
and I did not believe it existed for real. It sounded just like a fairy
tale or stuff from some old legends, and now I am to meet two people who have actually been there and I would really appreciate
hearing about it from you two. It must be some experience to share between you.
Abberline *frowning* I haven't got anything to tell you about it. There is nothing to share. *accepts the
cigarette from Malachi, not looking at him, but talking to Alifi instead* I believe
it would be best to take her now home, she needs peace and rest, and you will be there watching over her. I can come with you, before I return home. They will be waiting
for me.
Godalming *looking disappointed* You seem to have survived it
well, Inspector.
Abberline *frowning, moody* Think so?
Godalming
*decides it's best to drop the subject, to Malachi* Yes, if that meeting with
the Guardians could be arranged it would be invaluable to me, though it worries me at the same time. They may still be dangerous, who knows. I have been staying
in a filthy boardinghouse above that tavern, all my money was lifted from me one day, and I tried to report it to the Security,
but the Secretary just told me that they will be in touch, and I haven't heard anything since. *turns to Abberline* Apologies, Inspector, I didn't mean to
offend you. So I can be found at the tavern.
Abberline *ignores him, rises
up and goes to Manouche, looks at her, touches her cheek* How are you feeling
now? I think it would now be the time for you to go home.
Alifi *concerned* It still seems a little soon … but maybe I’m being overly protective. *looks anxiously at Manouche* Bird, are
you ready? Do you feel up to it?
Manouche *nods* Oh aye, I do, luv. *looks around the
room* I … I still love this house … but it ain’t me home anymore. I’m glad t’ see it bein’ well tended by yerself, an’ Malachi,
though. It does me heart good. *she
lifts up, looks at Godalming* I’ll be willin’ to tell ye of me experiences,
Mr. Godalming, but … give me a day or two t’ recover, all right? I’m
sorry t’ hear of yer misfortune … if ye want a better place t’ stay, there’s room ‘ere, if Alifi
an’ Malachi are agreeable to th’ idea … or I’m sure Marijke would make a good deal fer ye at Chez
Roux till ye can square it with ‘er. *She looks up at Abberline.
Though her face still shows the strain of the experience and her eyes are weary, she smiles warmly, takes his hand* Ye understand jus’ how I’m feelin’, don’t ye, mate?
I’m sorry to ‘ave kept ye from home. *she brings her other
hand up, holds his hand with both of hers, murmurs* Y-ye saved me life …
an’ I’m th’ only one in this room who can fully appreciate what it took fer ye t’ even so much as
look upon that wretched box again, much less touch it. Bless ye, Fred, love. *a tear falls on his hand, she brushes it away, kisses his hand. She slowly sits up, Alifi and Abberline help her. She stands
up carefully, then walks over to Malachi* This were yer doin’, mate, I
know it. I know ye confronted th’ Leader when they returned ‘ere. I know ye went searchin’ at From Hell Court fer th’ solution … an’ I know y' put th’ clues together. *she throws her arms around him* I’m obliged, luv, I
won’t forget it.
Malachi *hugs
her close, then holds her back, his hands on her arms, looking at her; he smiles, shakes his head* More trouble than you’re worth, you know that. *he swallows,
gives her a slight push away, speaks with a catch in his voice* Go on, now, go
home … that place gives you strength, you’ll heal there. I’ll
… I’ll see you soon.
Manouche *nods,
turns, shakes hands with Godalming, then walks over to Alifi and Abberline, takes both their arms* Right, I’m ready. Please, if th’ pair o’
ye will help me … I want t’ go home.
Godalming: Don't worry about me, miss Manouche. Take care of yourself,
and I really would like to hear from you. You are a very brave woman.
Abberline
*to Manouche* I would have done anything to get you out of that box. *looks
away when she hugs Malachi, his mouth set, and when she comes to take her arm, he almost snaps that perhaps she would rather
lean on some other arm than his, but he takes a look at her strained face and stays quiet*
Godalming *looks after
them, returns to the box, strokes lightly the surface* Where are you going to
put it? *and as Malachi doesn't answer him, just stares at the door, he clears
his throat* Er … I am sorry to disturb you, I should really be going now.
But don't leave that box in the open for the night. You never know who might be attracted to it. I wish I would
be able to see the new keeper of the key ... Have you ever seen her? What is she like?
Malachi *watches Abberline
and Alifi lead Manouche out of the house, walking slowly down to the river. He
knows they’re going to take Manouche’s little boat and take her home along the river, rather than walk all that
way, and he nods, speaks softly* That’s good, she’ll like that. She loves the river. *he sighs, quiet
for a few minutes, then realizes Godalming is talking to him* Oh … sorry,
mate. *he turns to look at him, then at the box*
Ahhh … the new keeper … well, she was Abberline’s first wife, Victoria. She died some time ago, I’ve only seen pictures of her. If
you want to know what she looks like, you’ll have to go see Abberline. He
probably still has some old photos of her. *grins wryly* As you’ve seen for yourself, the Inspector is … a rather private person. So if you want to know more about him, or Victoria, and he’s not willing to open up, you might try
talking to his good friend, Sergeant Godley, he’s a good man. *he goes
over to the buffet, pours two more drinks, hands a glass to Godalming, then looks at the box*
I think you’re probably right about the box. I’ll lock it
in a closet. Alifi will probably stay with Manouche, at least for tonight, so
I guess I’ll stay here. I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave
that box untended for long, even if it’s locked up. I still feel nervous
about it. *he looks at Godalming* You’re
welcome to stay here if you want, there’s plenty of room. *shrugs* Maybe we could get started on your writing … we could write down all that stuff
about the Tarot cards, while I still have it in my head. *glances back out the
window, toward the river, knowing that Alifi, Manouche and Abberline are well on their way down the river by now* Though I’m not likely to forget any of this very soon … *he sighs again, takes a long drink*
Godalming *taking the glass*
If you don't mind I would rather stay, unless you want to be alone. Let's first lock the box in a closet, I will more at ease with it out of view. Though it still fascinates me, I have to say. I have to see
the new keeper ... but I don't think that he liked me much ... nor you, I have to say.
*grins* So I will probably visit this Sergeant Godley. You said she was his first wife? But it seemed to me ... *thinks for a while* Miss Manouche is
the Star of the reading, isn't she? What is their relationship, Miss Manouche
and he ... *puts the glass down resolutely* If
you don't mind, I want to take it all up before I forget anything. You don't
happen to know that Dean Corso as well? I am utterly amazed that someone managed
not only find the box but steal it, and wise men have been searching it for years .... Now, that reading. The first card, that was the Magician. He, that gypsy, called
you Mr. Alchemist. I am sure that there is more to you than meets the eye ...
Malachi: No, please, stay, if you want … I often prefer to be alone, but …
I’d rather have some company this evening. *glances one more time out the
window* I wonder if I should’ve gone along … oh well, I’m sure
they’re fine … *he sets his glass down, walks over to box, picks it up*
I think you’re right, let’s get this thing locked up. *He
notices it feels a little strange in his hands, different, he’s not sure how to describe it; there’s something
a little disturbing about it. He shakes off the thought, takes the box down the
hall, finds a closet with a lock on it. Places the box on the floor of the closet,
closes the door, turns the deadbolt. He then returns to the living room, picks
up his glass, drops down on the sofa* Seriously, I have no problem with you,
Godalming. I was suspicious at first, but … well, you know enough about
dreamers, that we can pretty much tune in to someone and know if we can trust ‘em.
I knew after a few minutes that you’re okay. *takes a drink* The Inspector, you’ll have to forgive him.
He’s all right, really, but he’s had a lot of strange experiences most of his life, and not very many happy
ones. I admit, he’s done a few things that have really infuriated me …
*grimly recalls when Abberline betrayed Manouche to the Order* … but I think those were bad choices in moments of weakness. Besides, there’s something he, Manouche and I share … we all three had
tragic run-ins with a cult, of sorts, a long time ago. And, knowing that he spent time in the box, and knowing something
about his upbringing … well, it’s a little easier to forgive him when he does something … stupid. *runs hand through his hair* His relationship with, uh, Miss
Manouche *grins, decides he likes the “Miss” part, and he knows Manouche probably loved it* … I guess it’s
like everything else about him, a little complicated. They’re kindred spirits,
I guess you could say. But he’s devoted to his wife, her name’s Kat, and she’s expecting a baby pretty
soon. *he decides not to mention how mystified he was over Abberline’s
behavior earlier, like a jealous suitor, what the hell was that all about? He
would have to ask him sometime; strangest damned thing. He takes another drink* He and Kat also have a son, Raven, amazing boy, he’s a really sensitive dreamer,
especially with Manouche. *lights a cigarette, continues* Yes, I know Dean Corso … *smirks* He’s another
colorful figure around here. Very opportunistic, but not a bad sort, I guess. He did me a big favor once. Not that
he did it for free, mind you, he had to be paid handsomely. Antique books are
his weakness. *finishes his drink, gets up to pour another* As for me … hate to disappoint you, Godalming, but I’m probably the least interesting of the
bunch. I’m an alchemist, that much is true, but to be honest, I think Miss
Manouche is a better one, she just doesn't practice it as often as I do. I am
a dreamer, though … those skills are pretty sharp, I suppose. *shrugs* What else can I tell you about our happy little hamlet? Ask away, we got all night …
At Chez Roux:
Donnie: *after Father Connolly has left* I don’t like him…he seems way too eager and
very curious about your powers. *Frowns* By the way, what new tricks have you discovered?
O’Malley: *grins* now who’s curious? *Turns serious* That night I went te see Manouche
te warn ‘er about Corso ‘aving that pendant, later when I meditated I saw somethin’…I reckon the term
is a vision.
Donnie: *tries to hide his discomfort at more powers and more magic; casually* Oh, what did you
see?
O’Malley: It’s alright, luv. Ye don’t ‘ave te pretend that it doesn’t
worry ye. *Smiles* But visions are ‘armless, jus’ intuitions or ‘gut-feelin’s’ with pictures,
savvy? Since I began practising, I seem te be more aware o’ me surroundings an’ I reckon the visions be part o’
that.
Donnie: It’s not so much that it worries me, you seem to be handling it all. *Hesitates, wants
to make sure he uses the right words to explain* But it’s like, once you get used to one thing, then another pops up…I
always thought magic belonged to fairytales and now I find myself sharing my life with someone who has a lot of magic in her…and
who knows where it stops or…*looks down* or if it’s good or bad.
O’Malley: *takes a very deep (and yes I wrote ‘depp’ breath lol)
breath before answering* Before I very possibly blow up in yer face, luv, ye need te know that I do understand yer concern.
It is a widely misconception that magic is either good or bad…or white or black…magic is neither, it’s jus’
magic. It’s what ye do with it that can be good or bad, it all comes down te the people with the magic, savvy? Usually
when people use magic fer bad, it’s te obtain power. An’ yes, I could do bundles o’ ‘orrible things,
but if ye think I will, then ye don’t know me.
Donnie: I do understand, but…accidents happen and have happened, who’s to say it won’t
happen again? You can’t blame me for being just a little concerned, not to mention freaked about the whole thing.
O’Malley: *expression softens* Aye, I understand…an’ I wish I could give ye guarantees,
but I can’t. All I can tell ye is that I try an’ ‘aven’t ‘ad any accidents since I began practising.
The Father may ‘ave his own agenda, but ‘e’s helped a lot too. An’ if ye ‘ave concerns or questions,
promise me ye’ll ask instead o’ running away?
Donnie: *reaches across the table and gently takes her hand* I promise…
O’Malley: *smiles* Good. Now back te yer question about what I saw…*turns serious again*
it was hazy and blurry, but I saw things from the past; faces o’ people. An’ something else, don’t know
if it was the past, present, or future…people in cloaks chanting or prayin’. Don’t
know it what means yet.
Donnie: You’ll figure it out.
O’Malley: *Remembering feeling frightened when having the vision* Aye, I reckon I will.
At Bournemouth House:
Abberline *walks back home
the long way from Manouche's House, he is feeling oddly light, it is not only that Manouche has been saved, but something
else, something has changed, though he can't define what it is, and when he comes to Bournemouth House he feels that he has
been away a long time, and that the house should have changed somehow, but it looks exactly as it has been, peaceful and quiet,
but there is a warm light coming out of the window of the kitchen. He remembers how the house was when he was living alone
- gloomy and sad, with two ghosts, and now they both are gone for good, but now the house looks inviting to him, because it
is now full of life, and he almost feels that he could like the old house. He walks in and stops in the doorway to see his
family, Kat, Raven, Miranda having supper in the kitchen, and he smiles at them, moved beyond words at the sight of them*
Kat *Seeing Abby, stands
crossing to him, smiles, kisses him lightly* Abby, luv, where'd ye disappear
te? *Leads him to the table* Look
what Miranda 'as done. She can cook without burnin' it. Sit down luv, 'ave something te eat, it's bein' delicious.
Miranda *Stands, smiles* It's nothing, really. I just wanted to help out is all. Please sit, I'll fix you a plate.
Abberline: Yes, I can see that, and I think I need something now. *and
when he looks at the filled plate Miranda puts in front of him, he realizes how much energy he has lost and that he really
feels hungry, after all the years spent on drugs this is the first time that he really feels a hunger* I hope you will stay here, Miranda, I already feel that you belong to this family. *he tastes the food and it is delicious, and he looks at Kat and smiles - soon there will be one more member
at the table. Everything is going to be fine, and he forgets for a while the
soul box, and Marchand and Nate and Commander Portsmith ... *
At Rartigillichal:
Manouche *stands
down by the riverbank, gazing down the river. It’s nighttime, and there’s
a half moon, a few stars. She stands, her arms wrapped around her shoulders,
looking down the river, as if waiting for something, someone … *
Alifi *comes
outside, having searched for her, sees her by the riverbank, hurries down to her* Manouche,
what in the world are you doing out here? You should come back inside, you need
your rest …
Manouche *still
gazing, responds without looking at her* I … I thought I heard somethin’
…
Alifi *looks
in the direction she’s staring* What, dear?
Manouche *shakes
her head, puzzled* I – I don’t know … but … I couldn’t
keep away … I ‘ad t’ come look …
Alifi *takes
off her shawl, puts it around Manouche* You’re shivering, bird …
*puts her hands on her shoulders* Is it a voice you heard?
Manouche: I don’t know … I don’t think so … *shakes her head, seems
to snap out of it somewhat, looks at Alifi anxiously* This ain’t th’
first time this has ‘appened. I reckon I should take note o’ when
an’ how often it ‘appens … per’aps there’s a pattern.
Every time I look, though, there’s nothin’ there. Or it’ll
be an animal I heard, or somethin’ like that. But I always ‘ave to
check … it reminds me o’ somethin’ … *she looks down the river again*
Alifi *hugs
her* Come on back inside, and try not to worry.
You need to rest. It's chilly, I've got a nice fire going.
Manouche *turns
to her, smiles* I am tired, luv. Thank
ye fer stayin’ with me. *Alifi kisses her cheek, and Manouche allows herself
to be led back up to the house … purposefully ignoring the odd shadow she’s sure she senses moving around behind
her, because she knows it’ll disappear as soon as she turns around and tries to see it.
There’s someone or something on her property, and though she feels no malevolence from it, she’s determined
to soon find out who or what it is … *
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