MV: Decision Point

It was just after dark, and Steve led him over to the kitchen table. The lingering scent of food was a minor torment, a reminder that Andy couldn't -- or shouldn't -- eat regular food anymore. Veronica was there as well, and... Lorraine? Yes, that was her name. Sitting beside her was another young man, this one a sandy blond... maybe in his twenties? And sitting between Steve and Veronica was a woman in a sort of Hijab, wearing glasses so dark that Andy couldn't see her eyes. 

They looked like a council of war. 

Cautiously, Andy took a seat and looked around the table again. 

Steve nodded back to him. "You remember Lorraine, I trust," he said, and Andy nodded. 

Lorraine leaned forward. The gray in her hair and the lines in her face were both fading; he could see that clearly, and was relieved by it. "This is John," she said, tilting her head to the sandy-haired young man beside her. 

"Um," he said. "Hi. I'll be your victim tonight, I guess." He grinned, then. "Sorry, I haven't ever been drained by a wight before. Forgive me for being a bit shocked?"

Andy shrugged. "I certainly was," he offered. 

Lorraine chuckled, and Steve moved on. "Our companion in the glasses is Eleni Livingstone. She's in charge of the strike team." 

Andy nodded carefully to her. "Thank you."

She offered a brief, professional smile. "Pleasure to help. I'm here to ask you to make a decision."

Andy considered that, but only briefly. "What kind of decision?"

"What to do next," she answered him easily. "The strike team is in position here, but we can't stay here -- not without the risk of shooting up the neighborhood. I am confident--" She glanced at Steve. "--that we can get you safely to one of the schools, and also that this would be the safest choice for you." She hesitated as Andy waited. "The alternative would be to pull out, let your team take you to someplace more remote, and see if your presence lures in the three rogues so we can trap them."

Andy studied her for a long moment, but couldn't discern anything through the sunglasses. Rodney reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, then extracted a twenty-dollar bill and set it neatly on the table. Eleni turned slightly in his direction, then shook her head at him. Her expression, as much of it as Andy could make out, might have been exasperated.

"Kill them," Andy said, keeping his voice quiet but firm. Eleni turned her attention-apparent back to him. "Otherwise I'm just waiting around wondering if they're going to find me again. I'd rather take the immediate risk."

Steve nodded, and Rodney put the bill away again. "Could have been an easy twenty for me," he remarked in a tone of idle regret. "Too bad." 

"You get paid plenty," said Eleni. "All right. We're agreed. Lorraine, you and John take care of the kid while we pull things together. The moment you're clear, we're off."

Most of the table rose, monsters scattering to their duties. Andy sat there, watching as Lorraine brought John around to him. 

"You could turn me, right?" asked John.

"Into this?" asked Andy, more shocked than he cared to admit. 

Lorraine said, "John," but he shook his head. 

"I was just asking," he said. "I mean, look at him. He's ugly, but he's strong -- and if I'm dead, this bullshit sentence is up and I'm free."

"That's not how it--" Lorraine sounded as if she was doing her best to be patient. 

John scowled for just a heartbeat -- long enough for Andy to see how much he wanted the change, wanted to run loose as a monster. How much he wanted to do violence, even as a mortal man.

He stood up abruptly, his chair scooting away behind him and toppling over, and slapped his palm down over John's face. "You want to be food for us? A victim? Okay."

Lorraine started to reach for him, but Andy brushed her aside and kept his hand in place for that critical few seconds. When he loosed it, John, staggered and dropped: brittle, elderly, and weak. "Don't tempt me," he said, and turned away. "This is your sentence, not your salvation."

Lorraine dropped to her knees, checked John over, then sighed. "Andy..." 

He sighed. "Sorry," he said, with only a token attempt at sincerity. "I'm still new at this. I'll keep better control next time."

"If there is a next time," Lorraine said quietly. "At least you didn't kill him."

"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," Andy said quietly, then sighed. "Sorry," he repeated. "This guy should be kept far away from anybody who actually might turn him, though."

"I know," said Lorraine. "Look, I know this is part of your new nature, but try to keep a handle on it, okay? I'll have to write it up, but I can note it as a one-time thing. Don't make it a habit." 

Andy nodded and stepped out of the room. Behind him, on the floor, John gasped out, "Fuck. You." 

Wargs Revisited

"Got the perfect one for you, Bonethorn." 

"Seriously? I mean, okay, I'll ride a warg into battle, but don't expect me to-- hey! Get off! Stopping licking my ears-- that tickles!"

"See?"

"Grimstick, did you pick out the absolute least murder-y warg in the whole pack?"

"Not sayin'. But Willrender here isn't goin' to be a good companion for just any goblin. He wants scratches -- under the chin and behind the ears are best, but he'll take what he can get. You get wounded in battle, he'll probably just cuddle up beside you." 

"Well then, who's a good boy? Is it you? Is it?" 

"He seems to like you. Goregrim had cracked him over the head with a mace by this point."

"Goregrim is a sad excuse for a goblin. Great warchief, but he's just so angry all the time. Can't be good for his blood pressure. Not like you, Willrender, you sweet, sweet puppy."

"Keep your voice down!" 

"All right, I'm sold. I'm riding a warg into battle, and it's Willrender."

"Good. Now, whatever you do, don't expect him to bite anybody. You just ride him, keep him line with the others, and do your thing."

"Which is what?"

"Eh? Shoot arrows at the elves, Bonethorn. Willrender won't mind that, he just doesn't want to bite anybody himself."

"Right. Yes. Violence. I forgot about that part. Who's a cute giant murder puppy? Is it you?"

"Stop talking to the warg and focus. You're going to need to learn to ride him..." 

"Like this?" 

"...Like that. M'kay, I'll just leave you two to get acquainted. Remember, battle's in three days." 

MV: Elusive Sleep

By noon, Andy was about ready to climb the walls. He'd retreated to the ground-floor bedroom and made sure the blackout curtains were fully closed, but no amount of lying on the bed was enough to let him relax. He wasn't sure whether that was because he didn't feel entirely safe, or whether he'd simply had too much sleep -- or whatever passed for it -- already.

He pulled a book off the shelves almost at random, and found himself reading about naval warfare in World War I. Naval-gazing, he thought to himself, and chuckled quietly. Likely there was a whole hidden history here, spirits and monsters and sorceries all contributing to the outcome of the battles and the course of the war; he'd have to ask about that later. 

The book did its job, at least: after half an hour or so, he was settled enough to lie back and let himself drift. He didn't dream this time, and wouldn't have sworn that he slept except that when Steve came to get him it took a minute or so to wake back up. 

"Are they--?" Andy cut himself off, reaching out and realizing that his maker wasn't close enough to sense. 

Steve studied him for a moment, and Andy shook his head. "I can't feel him."

"Good," said Steve. "The strike team got here just after noon, but this is a safehouse -- not the best place to stage an ambush or even an arrest. Don't want to put the neighbors in danger, after all."

"Tulsa," said Andy, remembering. "Yeah, let's not get anybody else killed." He hesitated, then asked, "Is there any chance I could have a gun? I actually do know how to shoot."

Steve hesitated. "Let me think that over. Officially, no -- too big a risk. But this whole situation is dangerous."

Andy nodded and didn't say anything else. He was still dressed, and when Steve wandered back out of the room he slipped back into his shoes and followed.  

A Conversation 'Twixt Goblins

"Grimstick,these are wargs." 

"Yes! The traditional mounts of our people! ...Is that a problem, Bonethorn?" 

"You want me to ride into battle on the back of a warg?" 

"Keep your voice down, boy! Why is that a problem? Goblins have been riding wargs for a thousand years! It's a great honor!" 

"It just seems kind of dangerous." 

"Dangerous? 'Course they're dangerous! That's why we ride 'em! Strike fear into the hearts of humans and elves!" 

"I mean, dangerous to us." 

"Nonsense, boy! Gryphons is dangerous. 

You fall off one of those, and splat -- yer dead. Y'fall off a warg, you just get laughed at. Wargs is how goblins fight the Bigs. Well, wargs and ambushes." 

"I just feel like maybe I should be riding something that won't eat me if I get wounded in battle." 

"Like what?" 

"Like a pony, maybe?" 

"You know what happens if you show up to battle on the back of a pony when everybody else is ridin' wargs?" 

"...Wargs eat me?" 

"There you go." 

"...Okay, fair point. Put me on a warg." 

"I knew you'd come round. Too smart fer yer own good, but yer still a goblin at heart."

New Nightmares

Lot of weird dreams over recent weeks. Notable among them:

1. A thing like a deformed baby roughly the size of a squirrel, but with adult-sized hands on short wrists growing out of its sides. It was trying to pull me into a very small (like, 5") hole in the wall, and if I hadn't pulled harder it would have... absorbed and consumed me. 

2. A completely separate dream. I liked the part where I was camping with my friend. I enjoyed the part where we were LARPing with a bunch of other campers. I was less pleased with the weird rival family throwing rocks at my head. The tarot-ish reading that passed for the post-funeral reading of the will was weird. Having a random toddler get caught between the inner and outer doors of the elevator and fall down the shaft was horrible. 

There was a lot of "trying to find my sword again" in there, which I think is usually a sign of my brain trying to gear up to Get Things Done.  

Most recently, I had a -- slightly broken-up -- sort of Addams Family wedding scenario, except that the various parties involved were actually trying to kill each other. There was a river, which varied in width in various areas, where people would swim -- but there were also eels in there, carnivorous and about fourteen feet long, maybe eight inches across. The one I threw off was only eight feet long, but hit had been cut short. There was a point where I was walking on the pipes just under the water, and then back to the main areas where I needed to be; and then a lot of dastardly dealings, including the intrusion of the Shadow Tooth, which turned out to be a projection controlled by a yoga instructor whose controller I took away. 

It was all very weird, and I loved the strangeness of the settings.  

MV: Near Dawn

He'd meant to find a book, he really had. The television and its late-night movies were almost distraction enough. Watching the clock told him the time, but the knowledge didn't seem to mean anything. Andy settled back, wondering vaguely what might happen if he just stayed on the couch... or walked out into the dawn. 

"Hey there." 

Andy blinked and reluctantly looked up; a woman with curly dark hair was standing over him. "Do I know you?" he asked. 

She shook her head, a faint smile curling her lips. "Not at all," she said. "I'm Lorraine. I'll bring you a volunteer tomorrow, but for tonight, I'm standing in." She knelt down beside the couch. "Feed."

Andy kept his hands still. "It's fine. I don't want to."

Rodney came around the end of the couch and sighed. "You may not want to, but you need to. Word is you're good at doing it gently, but you have to have something. So do I."

Andy shook his head. "Let it be. It's not worth it."

Rodney drew in a sharp breath, but Lorraine held up a hand. "Would you believe me if I told you that I think it is?" She raised her head, studied him for a long moment, then reached out and lifted his chin. "Your keepers have been tasked with a lot of dumb assholes who've been turned to the dark over the years. Carol says you aren't one of them. She likes you, and Loida does too. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

Andy shook his head. "I'm just trying to frustrate the bastard who made me," he said quietly. 

"Then do it by staying alive," Lorraine told him. "Feed."

He hesitated, then reached out and laid his hand on her head. The contact was immediate, and it was all he could do to force it down to a minimum. He snatched his hand back, clutched it to his chest. Definitely a monster...

Lorraine rose, with touches of gray in her dark hair and new lines on her face, but she smiled down at him. "Well done," she said. "I'll be back, and you'll see you haven't done me any permanent harm." She glanced at Rodney. "We'll get someone for you, too."

Andy waited until she'd gone, then turned a glance towards Rodney. He was feeling a little better, and apparently his curiosity had come back. "You don't drink, like, packaged blood?"

"Not if I can help it," Rodney said quietly, taking a long look around before sitting down beside him. "It's not just that it's less helpful and the taste is off, it's that it's actually a pretty valuable resource in mundane medicine. If I drink from a human, they're maybe a little woozy but they'll be fine in a day or two. If I raid a blood bank, maybe somebody dies from a motorcycle accident when they could have been saved." He looked around again. "If Steve or Veronica says anything, though, it's because it tastes disgusting."

MV: Rest and Recuperation

He would have slept again if he could have. The feather was still warm in his hands; it was the only spot of comfort in this whole bleak existence. The movie had changed, the good guys victorious, and now Andy was watching something where a group of soldiers was being stalked by some sort of alien hunter. Not Predator, though; this looked to be some sort of late-night rip-off. 

Rodney sighed and stood up. "My shift," he explained, when Andy glanced at him. "Hopefully the wolves will wear each other out and sleep. You're in the ground-floor bedroom, so make sure you keep the curtains closed. Once the sun comes up, your maker won't be able to move around -- not easily, anyway. The shadowbringer can move around, but won't have any but the most basic powers. The wolf will be the greater danger, but since we have two wolves here..." The vampire shrugged. "You're as safe as we can make you."

Andy looked up at him, then forced himself to speak. "Thank you."

Rodney sighed. "Vampire's not a bad bit. It was a shock, and I could have done without dying -- but that's the price of recruitment, and my maker was determined to bring in younger Kin with new perspectives. The fact that I turned out to be a traditionalist has frustrated her for half a century now."

Andy nodded, though he had the feeling that he was being humored -- or that Rodney was trying to comfort him. Either way, he just wasn't up for it. "Wight's a shock," he said quietly. "How common are we?"

Rodney hesitated, then said: "Surprisingly. Wights can't pass for shit, but they -- you --  get along surprisingly well. A few work for the Authority, a lot go into the reservations, and the rest... well... I doubt the wolves mentioned it, but there's a whole-ass criminal underworld and a lot of wights decide they're happy to take jobs as enforcers or necromancers there."

Fucking hell, no, Andy decided. "I wanted a normal life," he said, calmly.

Rodney shook his head. "You're still holding a phoenix feather, so I won't swear to anything -- but I don't think you get that. It's not impossible -- remote work is absolutely a thing, and some wights legit pull it off --  but you need particular sets of skills. Accounting, or IT, or just night shift for a security company." He grinned cynically at that last.

Andy nodded and turned his attention back to the television. It was a bit after midnight, and maybe not long until dawn; he'd lost track of the time.