Two Points and a Correlation

First – yes, I do own clothes. No, the mate does not hide them. I may not be as sartorially deprived as the Sheriff, even. However, I have no pajamas.

Secondly – Lowenstein Station is a private residence, even though there are a great many of us residing there.

Consequently – if you should be wandering in a building that you do not own, and choose to make use of bedroom furniture, do not be surprised when the naked incubus materializes on top of you.

At least they did not file an abuse report.

Coming Home

I curled around my mate, murmured her name in her ear, and she responded, "... Guz ..... GUZ? Hyu iz avake!"

I embraced her and nuzzled her neck, "This is a pleasant way to regain conciousness.Hello love."

"Hmmmm ... Hy agree." She turned in my arms to face me, and growled, "Dun do dot again, eediot."

I admit I was concentrating on her most excellent collarbones, so my response of "Hmm? What?" was less articulate than I might have wished.

"Forzt, how iz hyu? Iz hyu vell?"

Self-diagnostic stretching and some experimental flexing of my wings, and I was able to reply, "Not too bad, love. I won't be able to take on Elder Ones for a few weeks, but otherwise all right..."

Birdsan's tone changed from scolding to sensuous, "Goot. Then talk later. Right now, getz youzelf *IN* here! Haz been too long." An hour or so later, having worn off the edge off, she murmured, "Zo, love of my life, fire of my loinz -- if hyu effer ron off vitout backop again, Hy vill be effen more annoyed than Hy iz..."

The timing was perfect. "Just a moment, love," as I got up to rummage in the press. she made some confused-annoyed noises until I presented her with the small box. "This is backwards, I understand, but I had thought we had more time. I don't want to make that sort of mistake with you ever again."

She hauled me back into bed, chuckling, "De kidz tinkz ve iz schlow..." and then she kissed me deeply.

I cradled her face in my hands, and when the kiss ended, I gave her my Names, all of them, in the manner of the formal presentation before Council and spoke the simple words of the ceremony, "I am your mate." She was shocked, and a bit apprehensive, but I reassured her, "It is there for you, love - all of me. I only ask that you stay a while."

I was rewarded by the rare sight of one of the 'kin being flustered. I think that may have been a first for her, as her response began hesitantly, but she was firm in her declaration. " Hy .... Hy iz you peregrine, all of me und all dot Hy vill be, und Hy vill fly vit hyu for az log az hyu vill have me. Und ... und Hy iz you mate, love."

Kissing another with fangs is a novel experience, but we are getting better practiced at it. As she wrapped herself around me, I heard her breath catch. I nuzzled her ear and murmured, "yes, wife?" She was a bundle of uncertainty and joy, but still spoke her question.

"Guz .... hyu dint have to do dot ... Hy vould have schtayed vit hyu vitout de formality. Hyu iz ... hokay vit dis??? Hyu zaid hyu vanted more time ...?"

"Would you rather I had not? I wanted to give you ..." She distracted me momentarily by a complex undulation, which helped clarify my thoughts into words. "I did not realize I might be injured or you - We are both expected to live a long time, but it could have gone badly, had Gematria not worked with me. I wanted you, and thought we had centuries, but my mortality came close this time."

"Votever time, zenturiez or momentz, Hy iz glad to be here vit hyu, huzbin."

I wrapped my arms around her tighter, "we might have forever, or we might have tomorrow, I did not want to wait any longer."

She giggled, "Velcome back, dear love, huzbin of mine own. Dun do dot again."

"Yes'm wife."

"Goot boy. Tenk hyu." She settled into my arms and a thought occurred to me.

"You said the kids thought we were slow?"

"Hmm? Ho! Ja, de kidz vere rudely approofing vhen Hy gotz Annechen to zign de paperz. Dot ve vaz schlow to figure out dot ve schould be together."

I chuckled into her shoulder, "That sounds like Wolfgang - It means we were not being properly sneaky - not that I was trying."

She nodded, giggling, "Even If ve dun mek love in the plaza fountain, ve iz exhibitioniztz." A few moments later, she mused, "Iz it uzual among you pipplez for de man to vear a ring, Hy vonderz?"

I nibbled her shoulder, and responded, "hmm.... Considering how we the clankin can sense blood and bond ties, we don't have a standard outward sign, but because there are mates taken from other planes, we have adopted their signals, usually as a sign of respect for the mated one outside the clan. Bonded mates often wear wear rings or cuffs, doesn't matter what gender. There have been times when collars are in fashion, but that may not go over well here."

She thought a few moments, and pondered aloud, " Hrm. A ring vould be recognized in this culture .... cuffz vould be zeen az juzt brazeletz. Und collarz ... noooo, dot vould not vork here, no." Then she giggled again and leaned into my nuzzling, "Vould hyu vear a ring from me, love?"

"I would wear a collar for you if you wished, sevgili."

She turned her head to glare at me, "Hy dun vantz to *own* hyu, Mizter Timelezz."

I chuckled, and purred in her ear, "Yeah, kind of difficult for me to be your dog, baby."

She giggled, and elbowed me gently int he ribs. "Hyu knowz vot Hy vantz right now, huzbin?"

In earnest seriousness, I answered, "Tea?" At her giggled negative, I nibbled her earlobe, murrmuring, "I'll bet you have a list."

"Hmmm ... this iz a zimple lizt, for tonight. Juzt vun ting on it." She paused, purring in response to my attentions to the nape of her neck, and then continued, "Hy vantz to fall aschleep tonight, looking up into you eyez, your veight on top of me, zo Hy knowz vit my eyez clozed dot Hyu iz back from dot adventure...." What man can say no to that sort of request from his mate?She caressed my wing, then rested that hand on my shoulder, "Goot night, sveet love." As she closed her eyes, smilng as she drifted off to sleep, she murmured, "Hy vonder ven Gematria vill move in...."

Awakening

The the rest at the pub and the wake afterward afforded me time to finish what I started with Gematria. The task was made easier by the fading of the compulsions set by her clan's founder. Death should not have erased them; I surmised he may have been an awfully dammed busy meteor-pilot, to have aimed Wormwood and lifted the gaes on Gem at the same time.

She wound down at the wake, and in the quiet, I told her, [I know we did not see eye to eye on your Founder's actions, but I am sorry for your pain.]

When she made no response, I continued, [He has given you back to yourself, as far as he was able. Once I release this last leash from the vampire, you will be under no one's control but yourself.]

[Will that mean you will stop pestering me?]

I chuckled, [Only in that I will not longer be inside your head.] Casting my sight around the lady's aetherial being, I hung my eyes upon the spheres tumbling free. [You will be welcome anywhere I have a claim, if you should need it.]

She was quiet for a very long time, and finally responded, [Thank you for the invitation, Mr Timeless]

The last bit of gearwork polished and filled out very quickly, to a blinding coruscate bubble of joy... and I was in my bed.

Muscles stiff from misuse, carefully stretching against... I chuckled inwardly and wrapped my arm around the sleeping form of myperigrine lass, nuzzling under her ear.

And the Cycle Begins Anew

So, he truly is gone, this time – and true to form, he has both given a great service and landed a huge problem on the doorstep in one fell swoop with his last act.

The Council will no doubt have their hands full with the refugees for a time. I imagine that is where the niece is now. Her hand control is better these days, so I would not be surprised if she is on one of the trauma/extraction teams. She missed the wake, but when duty calls, the clan attends.

There have been multiple upheavals, though I have not been able to report anything of the changes to Abbu. Medical leave-of-absence aside, I have several boatloads of information to dump on him when we finish here.

The new Regent is a bit of a surprise. The Luminous One has always been welcomed by the Council, though she has not returned to the Chambers in my memory. Even if there had been problems, we would have to ally with her and the brood, in preparation for the coming war.

We need to get Gematria under her own power before the first engagement. She may count herself frail, but she does have a very important part to play. With her brother, and the others that carry the lore, her analysis could give us the edge we will definitely need against the Hydra.

A Statement of Opinion

I must preface my statement with a few modifiers. I am not a connoisseur of blood. I never hope to gain that much knowledge on the consumption of blood, though it seems I may. I do not wish know the chemical composition of blood to the level of knowing what sodium levels are needed to provide the best distribution of viscosity and flavor. Nor do I wish to know dietary management of a prospective donor, the way one researches the agricultural practices of the wine-producing regions. I have no desire to study the balance of proteins versus plasma in the manner of the alkaloids and flavinoids of oenology.

That being said…

Oni blood is vile.

That is all.

So Many Threads

My peregrine lass has me well in hand, so to speak, and has been making sure I am updated. Yes, my body is mostly unresponsive, but she has been linked to me, and letting me know what has been going on around us. The sheriff was a capable man, even without his lycan abilities, and as for the djinni and the clone – well, that was something for Sister to work out. It was a staff disciplinary problem at its core, she just had to sift through the emotional minefield to get there.

The tumbling dice in Steelhead have been cast; there is naught I can do to help until I finish the job here. Removal of the last of the controls imposed on Gem by others – both the vampire and the Elder – proceeded at an agonizingly slow pace, but caution is dictated. They have caused her some long-term damage; all of us have, to some extent, whether we intended such or no.

I was focused on her sense of philios, warped as it was into a gear that turned only on Aleister’s whim. She had managed some work on it herself when come of the gears locked into it had been freed; now I hoped I could finish before she encountered others beyond her father.

The aura coming into range made me fear we were out of time; Gem’s hunger suppressed some of her logic subroutines, the cams jammed by her need to feed. The warning cry to my niece may or may not have reached her, but something made Gematria pause. I blessed who so ever chose to listen that Ama inherited several disarming senses of humor.

More time lost during the battle, as I could do nothing to assist, other than the occasional warning of danger from an unexpected quarter, I listened to my mate explain what had recently transpired in town… and I fed back my observations of the battle to her. Her hunting instincts rose, and the rush of controlled battle-rage fed the gestalt, to the point of feeding Gem, though her key was winding down… interesting, I would have to see what that meant when we got everyone home - it could mean we had a way to feed her if she remained a Blood Doll.

DUCK!

The warning from my mate rang though the space that held me. I evaded the missile, [Aha, another one of the memory spikes.] Not exactly something you expect to do in astral form, unless you have been in psychic combat, but there are some zingers flying about here.

[Why is she so angry with you about getting her out of Avaria? I thought the situation would have caused her to die if she stayed.] The tones of the falcon’s cry were overlaid with confusion.

I watched for the next flare as I responded, [She would have died, but I took that choice from her.] There! That was where the sphere generating her anger was only partially trapped. Mapping out where she was trapped and where she was not in the clockwork overlay Aleister had created provided some insight into his tactics. Her anger could give her strength, but it could also cause her to make mistakes in her rage.

The time taken to map out the cogs and gears overlaid by the old upstart was also critical to our next steps. We needed to find the bits of self that made Qlippothic create the CVFD, the spark that made Qli:2 offer herself as a sacrifice and that made it possible for Gematria to recognize the addiction to Bloodwine as detrimental. Freeing those bits, and giving control back to her would be necessary before releasing the power her ancestry gave her.

Birdie’s comment echoed hollowly, [That does not sound like you – you might convince someone of the error of their ways, and manipulating groups to harmony, sure. But without permission?]

I needed an energy boost to polish the gear-teeth out of her sense of community, and let it spin freely… [What, you mean like the five-hour bath?] Nothing wrong with my peregrine lass’s memory, if the surge that followed was any indication.

[You come back here and say that, and I’ll show you manipulation.] I had no idea that hunting birds could purr.

I chuckled, and focused the energy into the trapped bit. The glow gave me enough warning to step back and release. Her next question was unexpected. [Why did you not let her die if that was what she wanted?]

I could not sidestep a direct question from my mate. [I saw the Tigris run black from ink, and exhausted my resources to salvage what I could from the university. I could not prevent the scourging of holy ones for holding the “wrong” knowledge. It is not in me to let more information be lost, and in that, I circumvented the will of a sentient being. Because of my hubris, I delivered her into the hands of one who did not care for what knowledge she held, only what she could do for him.] I stilled, and finally admitted, [I have done her a grievous injury, and I must do what I can to set things right.]

A slight glow near me caught my attention, and I focused on the sphere squeezed into a timing cam. [Even if it means we have to find a way for her to feed when this is over. If it is freely given, I hope she will take the chance.]

She Is a Marvel.

A sudden surge of energy, and a familiar touch - [You are in SO much trouble, love]

Relief washed over me. [My peregrine lass! So glad you found me so quickly!]

She chuckled, a mix of amusement and irritation. [Found more than that. When were you going to ask?]

Oho, they rifled my desk? [I intended to do so as soon as I got back, which was supposed to be weeks ago.]

There was a shift, and she complained, [Don’t like that mode of travel much – let’s get you in the bath]

They had brought me Home, and in gestalt with my mate, I felt stronger. Even though I was still lodged in the Captain’s psyche, now we could get cracking on some serious work. There was nothing I could do about the physiological component just yet, but now that I had a firm place to stand, the next step was to decide where to place the lever for the most effective use.

She Is Going to Kill Me.

I seem to be stuck. My mate has no idea where I am, in either physical or astral form, and by now she may start to worry. I might as well get ready for the cataclysmic tempest when she realizes what I have done.

At this juncture, I cannot tell if it is the Ego or Superego that holds me fast in the orb of Gematria’s psyche. The core is still questioning the actions, the overlay is still in the pretender’s control. The casual cruelty of the overlay disturbs the core personality, but she is too weak to do much more than nudge.

I have no idea what state my body is in, but this long of an astral walk, it is likely to have reverted to my base form. Lovely. At least it is in the Tam San, and not in some of the hospitals I have landed, where they would vivisect first to formulate their questions. But I am going to need to feed in a fortnight or so.

My beautiful and dangerous peregrine lass, you are going to have to find me. You can do it, but you may need sister to help break me out without your getting demoted again, love.

A Month of Hellish Torment and Heavenly Delights

I found her.

What is left of her, that is – the one who I sought is buried under layers of malign influence, both old and new. She struggles still, and though I have been unable to speak with her, I have attempted to drain the miasma from her. It may only heighten her distress, for it allows her to feel the changes wrought in her. At least she is aware enough to know and still desires to fight for her sense of self.

I had to leave my post on occasion, lest I succumbed to the energies I had drained off and revised for return. The warnings of Great-Aunt Sybille and Auntie Gris fresh on my mind, I sought a pool of that which would balance, and as luck would have it, the Sheriff provided the setting with his natal-day observation. Dancing generally does restore the balance and the company of a good friend will heal much. Though, when she had to leave, I was assaulted by a newcomer who decided I was “fresh meat”. The lady in question was definitely unexpected, and provided a second wind to my flagging spirits. I could return to my self-appointed task with renewed vigor.

The old conflicts had not quite been settled before, with the addition of the infusion of blood, had thrown her off balance to the point of madness. Do not tell me she was not able to be driven so, her soul ached with it. As one who, in this society, only had a passing acquaintance with her, I could not gain an audience with her. The fact that I was not a relative, and admittedly a transient in the eyes of society as yet, meant I had no means of introduction. I had to watch from a distance and attempt to contact her in a manner appropriate to the eddies of movement in the patient population.

My returns to my home for brief respites from the maelstrom of the Tam San were more restful and restorative than any visits I had made before, as the company of one who developed from an acquaintance to a friend and, most surprisingly, a mate, made my continued investigations possible. Her bond opened a new avenue – if she could anchor me, there was another way to reach the one in pain.

With the link in place, and in the still of the small hours between midnight and dawn, threading past the orders and objectives of others, I sought to ask that which was her core, her true self, one question.

What is YOUR will?

Greatest Joy Greatest Sorrow

I almost managed to get the Council to dismiss me.

Almost.

Since I had acted without direct orders, they were nearly going to cut me loose, and then someone tipped them off that I had been looking for Miss Q. Likely her aunt, or it could have been 'Chen, but the end result is I am still attached to them, and now have a commendation in my file, for "quick action for reparation". On and on, and everyone misunderstanding.

I failed to protect her, I lost her in the void between planes, and they want to reward me for it.

Damnation, I hate politics.

If England is a nation of shopkeepers, Caledon is a nation of inventors. I haven't covered a third of the continent, and I only hope I haven't missed her in my search. New Babbage is closed to me, so I am having to rely on eyes other than mine to search there, though it galls me to do so. Winterfell has the wonder-workers, but not as many that work in the sciences needed to repair her as she was, and none that noted the work to rebuild her as a golem.

Blast it, I'm tired and drained. I shall have to find a sanitarium for recharging, and continue my search.

The search begins

In between the trips to the Council chambers for the ongoing inquest concerning the New Erebus incident, and too little sleep (and that is solitary when I do rest, bah) I have discovered that there are entirely too many machine shops, doll houses, mechanical engineering laboratories and metal artists in the Realm and in the immediate vicinity.

Ran into a bit of trouble with her aunt, who has been on this plane long enough to have little use for the dictums of Council. I had to admit this had nothing to do with them, just my personal responsibility to make things as right, as best I could. She was unable to give me further help, but at least she did not hinder, either.

No idea what I can do to help, not until I find what state she is in, after crossing the barrier.

But I still have to look.

Timing is everything.

I closed the house up for my absence - I did not expect this to take more than a day, but one never knows - just as Papa slipped onto the plane. “Your sister will need this,” he said, handing me a package. The handwriting and the aura both belonged to the priest from the old neighborhood. I nodded to him as he slipped out again, and I prepared to make the transition myself.

Following the trace my sister had left, I got pulled into the eddy the containment squad created when they rezzed in above the ships. The thing that held sister and her mates at bay was a blend of the scientific and esoteric, and I saw why Father Bert had sent the salt and holy water. Belt-and-braces sort he was, I wouldn’t have put it past him to bless the salt while he was at it, as well. I tossed the Divine Saline kit to ‘Chen and started my search for the lady in distress.

It did not take long, as she was the power core for the artificial city. I found her by following the source of energy, just as Bloodwing had taken off for his ships. Damned if he doesn’t keep showing up like a bad penny. Fine, Council would have to deal with him later. I had to help here if I was able.

She did not look about when she heard my approach, but asked, "Why have you returned? Were the ships destroyed?"

"No, Qlippothic...not just yet..." She turned in shock as my voice did not match her expectations.The atmosphere in this section of the city was rapidly depleting, possibly due to her dwindling resources. I hoped she was concentrating her living support system controls around the crew. However, with the loss of the air, I would need to link to her to continue conversing with her. I had not tried this with a self-aware non-organic person before, but there was no time like the present.

Positioning myself in the left side of her field of vision, I touched her shoulder [let me help?]

[No, get to safety; I need to do this myself.] But the glow of core flickered, showing how low her reserve was.

[I can provide energy to make sure your task is done.] Without waiting for an answer, I positioned myself behind her, wrapping my arms around, placing my hands at the connection points above and below her core. [We can do this and still get you home.]

[I cannot return, I will only have enough energy for the task,] she said. [The Wormwood comet must be destroyed.]

My response was simplistic, but true, [It will, no worries; where there is life, there is still hope.] Then I initiated the full link for energy transfer.

Mother Magma, was that a shock. The sheer volume of information this lady held would fill the libraries of several continents. As I got over the surprise at the amount of information, the next was the order. I was used to the random jumble that organics use for memories, but the information here would not be lost to a random neuron firing. It would just be lost because of her sacrifice for a land that where she no longer fit. I finally settled into the link with her, and opened the energy channel.

Linked with her, I saw all the data she had collected. The path of the comet, maps of the debris fields, the gravitational pull equations for each of the planets, moons and stars the comet would pass… and I saw she had never played billiards.

I set up the shot in my mind, and linked with her the way I was, she followed the track, seeing the forces interact, checking my numbers as the path continued. The available usable energy, balanced with the weight of the city, and the power applied all at the beginning without further guidance.

She argued for the briefest of eternities (nanoseconds? What odd terms she used) but we could not come up with another alternative that would provide the city with enough momentum to cause a significant course change in the comet's path without causing more destruction to inhabited worlds. I understood her need to see this through to the end, but the reality would be she would not survive long enough to see it, and her knowledge must be preserved somehow. She disagreed, stating the knowledge she held was too dangerous to be kept.

The time was fast approaching when we would need to give the city the final push. [I will stay, go and make sure the others are prepared.] Though she would not be aware, she still argued she should be there for the destruction.

Calculations sifting through my consciousness, I concentrated on giving her the energy she needed, when she needed it, for this would be the ultimate hustle of fate with a cocked hat double – and no chance for a re-rack.

Timing…

I poured everything I could into the link; we sent the city on its collision course, and she released the remainder back to me. I opened a rift behind us and let the city push me through.

I was still linked with Miss Qlippothic.

The link to the city was dead, but her body had not released the grip on the chains.

Halfway through the transition, I felt her ripped away from me. I lost her in the void between my transit points.

As I collapsed on the floor of my office, I realized what an idiot I had been. I had linked to the house in Harborside. Never mind the Foundation building had been destroyed and the land claimed by another; she had ties elsewhere. Before the accident she had been a resident of the Cay, but that base was gone as well. She would be in Caledon, somewhere, I had to find her...

Evening, on the cusp of night.

Sitting at my desk, contemplating the changes in the neighborhood and the current news, I have been uneasy. My task at large has not changed, but there has been little news of the one who brought this area to our attention. True, my home here is warded against him, but even in the realms outside, there has not been much said, save the discussion of what happened at Artificial Isle. There are those who say he has left this plane, and murmur of the son created from his bones, but the void one would expect is not there.

The call of dire catastrophe struck me as the thunderbolt, catapulting me to my armoring cabinet. If she is in enough trouble to call, I will need back-up.

Yes, tonight I will quite possibly embarrass my sister.

However, I solemnly swear – I will not involve any livestock. I do not speak for my neighbors, but after Piccadilly, I have remembered that particular lesson.

Oh, this is just spiffing.

At least he is fading into the mists between the planes, but considering how many times he's cropped up again, I sill have to keep to the post.

Not that this is onerous duty, with so many lovely neighbors, but being told to stay in one place is rankling.

Bookworm has finally set my house in place, and she has followed my requests, for the most part. It is not her fault I really would not prefer to have windows.