The Clockwork Mansion

This will hopefully be a new story, set 25 years after 'Future History' (aka Project Future), or 175 years after DMFA.
I'm hoping that it will still make sense for people who have not read the earlier stories or the comic version.

I have perhaps put this off for a little too long because although I currently have four complete chapters, I'm still scared that I won't be able to sustain it creatively.   (EDIT: It reached 62 chapters!)

Anyway, as before I'm going to post the index here and the chapters in subsequent posts.  I will probably be running on a fortnightly update schedule as I did with 'Future History' and 'Chronicles of Jakob Pettersohn'.  How long will I be able to keep it going?  Have I started this too soon?  I guess we shall see.

EDIT: Critique would be very handy.

Chapter 1 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg359394.html#msg359394)   Chapter 2 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg359784.html#msg359784)   Chapter 3 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg360112.html#msg360112)   Chapter 4 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg360436.html#msg360436)   Chapter 5 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg360636.html#msg360636)   Chapter 6 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg360974.html#msg360974)

Chapter 7 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg361258.html#msg361258)   Chapter 8 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg361782.html#msg361782)   Chapter 9 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg361987.html#msg361987)   Chapter 10 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg362261.html#msg362261)   Chapter 11 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg362642.html#msg362642)   Chapter 12 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg362984.html#msg362984)

Chapter 13 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg363309.html#msg363309)   Chapter 14 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg363623.html#msg363623)   Chapter 15 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg364105.html#msg364105)   Chapter 16 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg364562.html#msg364562)   Chapter 17 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365025.html#msg365025)   Chapter 18 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365204.html#msg365204)

Chapter 19 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365351.html#msg365351)   Chapter 20 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365473.html#msg365473)   Chapter 21 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365627.html#msg365627)   Chapter 22 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg365818.html#msg365818)   Chapter 23 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366013.h.%20 ml#msg366013)   Chapter 24 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366153.html#msg366153)

Chapter 25 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366282.html#msg366282)   Chapter 26 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366442.html#msg366442)   Chapter 27 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366672.html#msg366672)   Chapter 28 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366843.html#msg366843)   Chapter 29 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg366997.html#msg366997)   Chapter 30 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367198.html#msg367198)

Chapter 31 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367406.html#msg367406)   Chapter 32 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367532.html#msg367532)   Chapter 33 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367641.html#msg367641)   Chapter 34 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367816.html#msg367816)   Chapter 35 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg367970.html#msg367970)   Chapter 36 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368044.html#msg368044)

Chapter 37 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368162.html#msg368162)   Chapter 38 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368250.html#msg368250)   Chapter 39 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368324.html#msg368324)   Chapter 40 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368484.html#msg368484)   Chapter 41 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg368741.html#msg368741)   Chapter 42 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369013.html#msg369013)

Chapter 43 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369166.html#msg369166)   Chapter 44 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369338.html#msg369338)   Chapter 45 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369529.html#msg369529)   Chapter 46 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369723.html#msg369723)   Chapter 47 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg369935.html#msg369935)   Chapter 48 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg370087.html#msg370087)

Chapter 49 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg370227.html#msg370227)   Chapter 50 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg370414.html#msg370414)   Chapter 51 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg370695.html#msg370695)   Chapter 52 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg370912.html#msg370912)   Chapter 53 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371028.html#msg371028)   Chapter 54 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371150.html#msg371150)

Chapter 55 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371261.html#msg371261)   Chapter 56 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371388.html#msg371388)   Chapter 57 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371492.html#msg371492)   Chapter 58 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371591.html#msg371591)   Chapter 59 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371718.html#msg371718)   Chapter 60 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg371857.html#msg371857)

Chapter 61 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg372003.html#msg372003)   Chapter 62 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,8787.msg372119.html#msg372119)

EDIT EDIT:

Brief timeline (dates are approximate):

1089-1985: Chronicles of Jakob Pettersohn
1990: Present-day DMFA
2140: Future History (Project Future)
2165: Epsilon Project

The Epsilon Project - Chapter 1

The fox entered the room cautiously.  "Sorry I'm late..." he said, his ears burning slightly and his mind projecting embarrassment.

"Just take a seat, Sidney," the Professor said, causing the fox to jump slightly as his name was plucked out of thin air.  "We're still settling in.  You haven't missed anything."

Abashed, the fox settled in an empty chair, and cast his eyes around the room at a veritable sea of wings... all the other students in the class were 'Cubi too.  This was not unexpected since Illiath's was a 'Cubi-run school, but it still came as a surprise to Sydney to see so many others of his kind... some things you can't really appreciate until you've seen them yourself.

In principle, it was difficult to identify which of the Creatures in the room was the professor at all, since everyone looked like they were in their early 20s, no matter what their true age was.  In practice, Illiath's provided their staff with enchanted badges bearing the crest of the Academy.  Staff were encouraged to wear formal clothes during the introductory week of term, after which the policy was relaxed.

Of the students in the classroom, some were dressed conservatively, others with a flamboyancy bordering on the outrageous.  The professor, a female snow leopard with batlike wings, paid the outlandish sartorial mismatch not the slightest attention and cleared the whiteboard with a wave of one hand.

Sitting slightly apart from the other students in the row in front of Syd, was a jackal with plain white fur, raven-black hair and striking red-orange wings of the feathered kind.  This what was initially caught Sydney's eye, but once he had laid eyes on the Creature he became fixated with trying to work out if he was seeing an incubus or a succubus.
At length he finally took the jackal for a male, but only after great difficulty.  The Creature's clothing only added to the confusion; around the neck was a black collar but otherwise he leaned towards the scanty end of the clothing spectrum.  The only other garments he wore were a pair of arm-length gloves made from some kind of high-gloss polymer and a remarkably tight pair of leather pants which made Sydney wince just to look at them.

Looking the other way he saw that he was sitting next to a succubus, a feather-winged border collie whose prim and proper attitude perfectly matched the grey jacket she wore.  The fox's eyes widened slightly when he realised that she was wearing something underneath it that he had last seen on a top shelf magazine.  Great grandmother does that too, he remembered.

Sydney looked down at himself, feeling somehow inadequate given that he could easily have dressed as outlandishly as the jackal guy.  On a sudden impulse he removed his shirt, revealing the Doberman-like patterning of his muscular chest and arms.

"Now," the professor said, snapping Sydney and some of the other more dreamy 'Cubi back to full attention.  "As most of you will be aware, we will only be running the introductory classes for the first two weeks.  Regular courses will begin after that.
"This is the first introductory class, and we may as well start off with a brainstorming session, since I'd like to get some idea of what you all know about the major races.
"Naturally, our race will be the main focus of our courses, but for reasons which will hopefully become apparent, I would like to start with Beings," she said and wrote the word in the centre of the whiteboard, surrounding it with a circle.
This done, the professor turned her gaze towards and class and paused expectantly.  Most of the students put up a hand and in some cases a wing-tentacle as well.

"Sheila," Professor Jevex called out.  Sydney jumped slightly - it was the succubus sat next to him.
"They are the most common race on Furrae," she informed the professor.  She thanked her and wrote it upon the whiteboard.

"They have very limited magic," another student informed her.  "They compensate with technology."

"Daniel," the professor said, and a Doberman incubus replied.  "We, 'Cubi, are like Beings until we grow up.  We often masquerade as them."
"Very good," the professor replied, and turned towards the white jackal.   "Richard?"

"They are a resource for our race to use," he declared.  There was a deafening silence, punctuated only by a confused blur of emotions from everyone in the room.  Richard's smile faded slightly and he gave a quick glance at the other students as if seeking reassurance.

"Er, would you care to expand on that?" the professor asked him, her head-wings fluffing out fractionally as she tried to control them.

"Well, Professor," the jackal began and recovering his poise, leaned back and placed a black boot upon the table.  "Their souls can be eaten and make a very good source of energy, especially since they are an easy kill.  While they're alive they're good for harvesting terror, pain and other emotions from, and when they're used up their skins make very durable leather," he said and slapped one of his thighs for emphasis.  A thick wave of horror and disgust seeped through the room and those nearest to Richard edged away from him.

"You bastard!" Syd snarled, standing up.  "My mother is a Being!"  Richard whirled around, almost coming off the chair and stared at Sydney, his head-wings fanning out in alarm and a gloved hand in front of his mouth.
"Oh, I'm really sorry," he said apologetically.  "I didn't know.  I wouldn't worry about it though," he added brightly, "She won't last long.  Probably die while you're at the school..."

Sydney lurched forwards, stumbling over the desk, his mind filled with red rage.  Richard seemed genuinely startled by his reaction.  One of the professor's wing-tentacles wrapped around Syd's throat and an icy sensation filled his head.

Next thing he knew, Sydney was lying slumped in his seat, staring at the ceiling and not quite sure what had happened.  Richard was nowhere to be seen and most of the class were quietly chattering amongst themselves, sometimes casting surreptitious glances towards him.

"Where's the professor?" he asked timidly.  "Outside, with Richard," Sheila replied.

"Oh shit..." Sydney exclaimed.  "Did I... did I hurt him?"  How would his parents react if he was expelled on his first day...?

"I wouldn't worry," the succubus said, gesturing at a couple of other dazed 'Cubi who were only now stirring.  "You weren't the only one who needed to be subdued, and besides, they'd have taken you aside if you were in trouble.  As a race we're... well, highly strung.  This sort of thing tends to happen a lot to begin with, at least until the self-control classes start to kick in.  I'm sure they're used to it."

"How do you know all this?" Syd asked her.  "I read a lot," she said said, with a small shrug, but her gaze lingered over the fox for some time.
"May I ask," she said finally, "When you found out you were 'Cubi?  Was it recently, or have you known it for many years?"

"It's a long and sordid story," Sydney said, "But the short of it is yeah, it was fairly recent.  Though I often wondered what race I was, I will say that."


The envelope was glowing slightly.  Not in an alarming way, nor yet in an irritating manner.  It had often been the case that junk mail would be covered in cheap, tacky spells that caused them to flash or display short loops of video, but that trend was on the wane now, a passing fad.

Most people had by now developed a habit of consigning such garish mail to the shredder without checking it and this association with junk mail was probably a major reason why, but this particular letter was quite clearly something else.  It had the air of an official letter from a Creature-run organisation, likely formed before even Mayor Dickens' great grandparents had been born.  And now it was sitting in his in-tray, addressed to him.

Cautiously, the llama opened it.  Care was needed - sometimes Creatures would send a Warp-aci, some similar messenger or even themselves, shape-shifted into the form of the letter.  Casually stabbing such an envoy with a letter-knife had sparked more than one diplomatic incident.  In this case the letter had obviously not been through the usual postal system, and that itself was a very bad sign.

"What do you know about this...?" he asked his aide, eyes widening as he scanned the letter.  It was hand-written in quill with a fine script and the paper was embossed with a large runic Clan symbol in one corner and coloured with pressed gold leaf.  As was often the case with long-lived Creatures, the text was lengthy and took its sweet time getting to the point.

"It's... well, I think it's a request, Sir," the aide replied.  He was a fruit bat, and he sat in his chair, staring into space.  "It was hand-delivered to me this morning by an emissary of Daryil's Clan.  Apparently they wish to expand their territorial holdings."

The llama slumped.  "Well, that's it, then, Patrick.  I had long feared this would happen, that Creatures would take it from us, under a thinly-veiled threat of force dressed up as diplomacy... Force us to hand to them this city which we built from practically nothing..."

"Oh no, Sir.  The emissary was very clear on this matter.  The Lord Daryil... he personally ordered this.  He wishes to be made supreme overlord of Grunmore Council Estate, no more, no less."

The Mayor went very quiet.  "This must be some 'Cubi trick.  No-one would want Grunmore.  He means to gradually expand his territory and take over the city by stealth."

"Be that as it may, I'm not sure we could refuse this demand.  Parbury is on land owned by King Fairwater, but even so the city itself does not officially enjoy the protection of a patron.  Angering this clan could be a mistake - they may take it by force or raze it to the ground so that no-one may have it at all.  We could not win such a war."

The Mayor sat silently, trying to think of some way out of the dilemma.

"Frankly, Sir, I say we let them," the bat piped up.  "If the Lord Daryil really wants it, Grunmore will become his problem.  Our statistics and costs will show an enormous improvement once that has been cut out of the picture."

"We'll have to send it past legal first, of course, but in principle, yes.  This may come to be a blessing in disguise."

"Do you think he knows?" Patrick mused.  "If he doesn't, should we tell him?"

"Yes," the llama decided firmly.  "Even if it jeopardises the transaction.  He must have the right to refuse if it is not to his liking."

"But, Sir!  If he signs it, it is legally binding..."

"No.  We must not hold anything back.  It's no longer a question of business ethics or legal procedure, it's a matter of our own safety.  He knows where we live.  The fact of the matter is this... if he feels he's been robbed, the esteemed Lord Daryil is very likely to come here and kill us both."

Interesting so far...
It appears Richard rolled a 1 on Diplomacy... that is, unless he had an anger affinity and decided it's time for a snack.

Lord Daryil, Supreme Overlord of Grunmore Council Estate.

It has a ring to it.

Although... I do have to wonder how many other Council Estates he's Supreme Overlord of, by now. And... just how much emotion would there be in such a packed, unpleasant place to live? Hrm. Ulterior motives...

Quote from: VAE on January 18, 2012, 04:06:11 PM
It appears Richard rolled a 1 on Diplomacy... that is, unless he had an anger affinity and decided it's time for a snack.

The original concept for Richard was that he was like Dan would be if Destania had brought him up during her tenure at SAIA.  It was inspired by Mink saying "I was originally kind of scared since I heard you were Destania's son..."
He's developed a bit since then, but he's a character I am really having fun writing.  Sheila too, actually.

Poor little mayor and staff, killing you would be the least painful thing that Lord Daryil would do to you :mwaha
Here's to more of your story

I was going to publish this yesterday and switch the update day to Saturday, but I (1) forgot, (2) had to do a little re-editing for consistency with the current WIP chapter.  Enjoy.


Chapter 2

After the initial briefing class, the students had the rest of the day free and were encouraged to explore the grounds of the academy.  Not quite sure what to do, Syd tagged along after Sheila, who didn't seem to object.

"Nice corset," he remarked at one point.  "Thanks," she replied, polishing the shiny undergarment.  "But don't get your hopes too high, mister," the succubus added with a lascivious grin.  "I prefer other women."
Syd decided it was best to pretend he hadn't heard that, at least for now, and his expression did not change.

"So, uh, what clan are you from?" he finally asked.

"Clan Ketonia," the Border collie said.  "Fairly minor clan, but we specialise in financial matters."

"Have you ever had a Leader?"

"Not as such... we have a CEO instead."

This was not the answer Syd was expecting.

"Yeah," she said, "We run the clan as if it was a corporation.  My father is Technical Director, and I think his hopes are to have me set up and run a new R&D facility in one of our cities.  After I graduate from Illiath's, of course."

"I don't know if I should mention mine," Sydney said.  "We have a shadowy past."

"That goes for a great many clans," Sheila pointed out.  "Still, you seem to have a good heart.  I don't think I can hate you for yourself, whatever your family may have been like.  But if that's how you want to cope with it, I can't argue."

"We're allies of Daryil clan," Sydney said.  Sheila paused but made no other sign.  "Weird, but pretty harmless," she said, as if reading aloud.  "Usually gay," she added, causing Syd to scowl briefly.  "Anyway you seem sane enough to me."

"Thanks, I guess.  What about... Well, do you know anything about Richard...?  His clan?"

"No," she said, her eyes narrowing.  "He's a funny one.  Not many clans revel in destruction these days, most of the really brutal ones got killed off in the wars.  If I were to stake a guess, I'd say Jyraneth."

Syd quivered and radiated fear.  "Jyraneth...?"

The Border frowned, reasoning that the Jyraneth had some kind of beef with Syd's mysterious clan, not an unlikely thing given that Jyraneth's clan were a bunch of religious fanatics who held practically every other clan in contempt and had made many enemies.  Sheila's guess was in fact true, but not in quite the manner she suspected.

"I wouldn't worry," she soothed,  "He won't hurt you.  Jyraneth are psychos, and they committed many atrocities, even against Ketonia clan.  But they tend to honour their vows.  Of the surviving members of the clan, they must be at the moderate end of the spectrum even to consider using a school.  Be that as it may, if Richard is here at all, that means he's sworn to set aside his inter-clan differences for the duration of his attendance.  He might push the boundaries if your clans are really at each others' throats, but targetting another 'Cubi for a vendetta is very unlikely."

"I guess so.  Uh.. what did the Jyraneth do to your clan?"

"Oh, they massacred a number of villages and towns that were supplying us with raw materials such as wool and ore.  They also killed several members of our clan who tried to prevent it."

"Shit," Sydney said.  "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Hey, it was a long time ago," she said.  "Way before my parents were born.  Beside, I might be completely wrong about Richard being of that ilk.  Most of the Jyraneth were wiped out about 700 years ago after they pushed the Kamei'Sin too hard by murdering their Leader's lover.  It's just as likely he's Cyra Clan.  I mean... I've read about them, seen recordings from SAIA.  If Destania Cyra ever brought up a child in her own image, Richard would be pretty much it."

"I heard Destania was dead", Syd pointed out.  "But I guess with someone like her, you can never be too sure."


"Thank you," the incubus said, entering the room.  Vulpine he was, and dressed in a long black cloak with holes for his feathery wings and the Daryil symbol upon it.
A cane was held fast by two gloves of brown leather and his demeanour, at least as much as his clothing, gave the impression of an ageless nobleman who could personally recall those bygone times when such clothes were fashionable among the gentry and not just a mark of distinction for formal occasions.  The headwings alone practically guaranteed it, for younger 'Cubi rarely left their studies until they were at least one or two hundred years old.  Daryil was more than four thousand.
The effect was finished by a dark burgundy shirt of fine silk with gold trim that was tucked carefully into an expensive pair of leather trousers.  These in turn branched off into an equally costly pair of knee-length boots.

"I bid you welcome, milord," Mayor Dickens said, bowing courteously.

The incubus made a polite gesture of acceptance towards the llama with one hand, and held the door open with the other.  An unkempt husky Being bumbled in, dressed in a T-shirt and a particularly scruffy pair of jeans.  Tucked carefully under one arm was what appeared to be a gigantic sugar cube.

"Afternoon," he said.  Everyone else flinched slightly and the incubus narrowed his eyes in a threatening manner, as if to say 'behave'.

"Milord," the mayor began, addressing the noble.  "It is an honour to have you with us.  Can I bring refreshments for you, and your... assistant?"

"A jug of water, and perhaps some pastries, if you would be so kind," he replied.  Patrick scurried off and returned a few moments later bearing a tray.

The incubus drew from one pocket a leather-bound folio, adorned on the front by the mark of Daryil Clan.  The gold clasps and jewels had clearly been worked by hand.  "May we present you with a gift on behalf of clan Daryil?" he asked.  The Royal 'we', the Mayor thought.
"It is our hope that it may bring you a better understanding of our aims and way of life."

Mayor Dickens opened it gently, and drew breath.  "Hand-written?"  Privately he made a rough estimate of the book's value and his hands began to tremble.

"Copied out and illustrated by monks from the order of St. Palance," the lordly incubus said.  "I understand they even raised the cattle whose hides went into the vellum and binding."

"This wasn't hand-made," the scruffy one said, pointing at the sugar cube.  "Sorry about that."  There was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by another sharp look from the incubus.

"We do also have the document available in Braille, audiobook, comic form and scratch-and-sniff," the fox said happily, regaining his composure.  "But this one is much nicer, don't you think?"  The incubus faltered slightly, as the husky glared at him instead.

"Yes, yes," he said, glancing at the unkempt one.  "Apologies.  I suppose we should get down to business now."  The Mayor shuddered slightly.  "No, wait, the other gift first."  So saying, he waved a hand and a bottle appeared in it.  "Marque D' Sade, 1808," he said.  "Save it for a special occasion if you wish."

"Anyway, to business.  On behalf of Clan Daryil, I am here to extend our love and appreciation towards the people of Parbury and their delicious souls..." the incubus faltered, looking confused.  The scruffy husky gave him a look of pure venom and he tried to regain his thread.  The Mayor was shivering.

The incubus started again.  "We wish to formally take over Parbury..."

"GRUNMORE!" the husky screamed.  The Mayor pinned himself against the wall.  "It's exactly as I feared!"

"Why are you acting like this?  You'll ruin everything!" the husky snarled in a low voice.
"It's him!" the incubus whined, gesturing at the mayor plaintively.  The scruffy one glanced at at the mayor and then back at the fox.  "Emotion-jammed by a Being?  Anyone would think you were 22!"

"Mayor Dickens," the noble said, his gloved hands clutching the top of the cane like grim death.  "Will you please stop thinking all that paranoid stuff?!  I don't know what you're using to break my mental filters, but it's making it really hard to concentrate!
"Listen... think about the smell of the sea and the wind whipping your hair... That's better.  Now, can you feel that...?  Good.  Now concentrate on it, and... yes, that's so much quieter."

"Right," the incubus continued, once he had taught the llama and bat to conceal their thoughts. "I really don't know why you're so worried.  If Clan Daryil truly wished to take the city by force, we wouldn't be talking to you now.  You'd have been incinerated and replaced by impostors from our Clan before you even knew what was going on."

"Now, if we can forget this moment of foolishness ever happened, let's try that again.  On behalf of Clan Daryil I wish to extend our love and appreciation towards the people of Parbury and I hope this agreement marks the start of a new era of cooperation between your city-state and our Clan.
"We wish to formally take over the district of Grunmore, nothing more or less.  We will protect Grunmore from attack as best we can and will try to protect Parbury also, though we cannot promise anything.
"While some of our people will be moving in once the agreement has been formalised, It is not our intention to harm any of the existing residents other than as may become necessary in the event of civil unrest."

"And how likely is that, milord?" the bat enquired.

"Frankly, I'm not sure," the incubus admitted.  "We're not an aggressive or violent clan by nature - Daryil members are forbidden to commit wanton acts of murder - and the 'Cubi race as a whole... well, we don't like killing, if only because dead people can't have emotions.
"Now, we're not talking about subjugating the population either, that's really not what we want.  But as you both know, Grunmore is a hive of villainy and scum so we can't presume a completely passive approach will work in all scenarios and there may be some resistance to us just because we're new here.
"Understand though, we're talking an emergency situation that I don't expect to occur, but want to provide for just in case it does.  Covering our backs, really."  The mayor and his winged assistant nodded.

"Now, I believe that's..."

"Trade routes," the Incubus' assistant piped up, interrupting him.

"What about them?" the noble retorted, turning on his heel with a questioning stare that perfectly matched his noble demeanour.  The husky cleared his throat.  "I took the liberty of examining the area and its financial status.  While Grunmore is not exactly a commercial district, there are twenty-six corner shops, two or three supermarkets and a number of fuelling stations within its boundaries.  These will of course, need to be resupplied.
"Since the estate has no financial centre of its own but a large area of farmland and several industrial estates, virtually all monetary transactions will cross the border also."

"I see," the incubus said, rubbing his chin.  "Yes.  Making it a separate state would give us the power to impose levies on trade occurring with the rest of Parbury.  That is something we must consider..."

"Taxes?!  Import duties...?" the Mayor seemed to be sinking rapidly into his chair.

"The taxes would be fair," the fox said, soothingly.  "I am sure our esteemed colleague is thinking of nothing more than a nominal fee to help cover administrative costs.  Besides, these are details we can work out properly later."

"That's not the point!" Mayor Dickens protested.  "Parbury is a province granted to us by King Fairwater!  Ultimately we report to him... being made governor of Grunmore is one thing, but you can't just go and declare it an independent state!"

"We'll see about that," said the husky simply.

Wow...

Daryil setting up his own little town. Should be interesting watching him make a town of villainy into a nice place to raise your kids.

A nice place to *raise* your kids, given that the gravity might very well work in the opposite direction.

FWIW, I have no idea what happens to Destania, I'm covering my bases :P

Interesting... another SAIA-like school. I didn't know you had this is the works. We shall have to converse.

Quote from: James StarRunner on January 30, 2012, 07:03:23 PM
Interesting... another SAIA-like school. I didn't know you had this is the works. We shall have to converse.

That would be handy.  The people I'd usually run ideas past all seem to be busy at the moment :-/

"Why are you acting like this?  You'll ruin everything!" the assistant snarled in a low voice.

You should either say it was the mayor's assistant, or call him by name or species. As there are two 'assistants' in the room, it's a little vague as to who's speaking.

---

"Anyway, to business.  On behalf of Clan Daryil, I am here to extend our love and appreciation towards the people of Parbury and their delicious souls..." the incubus faltered, looking confused.  The scruffy husky gave him a look of pure venom and he tried to regain his thread.  The Mayor was shivering.

"We wish to formally take over Parbury..."

Seems a little out of character for Jakob to mention delicious souls and for Daryil to be the one to put Jakob back on track, which is amusing. And who was it that tried to regain his thread? The husky?

By creating a different paragraph, my mind thinks there's a different speaker. I suggest something like, "We wish to formally take over Parbury..." the vulpine incubus continued, looking sheepishly back at the mayor.

---

"Why are you acting like this?  You'll ruin everything!" the assistant snarled in a low voice.
"It's him!" the incubus whined, gesturing at the mayor plaintively.  The scruffy one glanced at at the mayor and then back at the fox.  "Emotion-jammed by a Being?  Anyone would think you were 22!"

This is all really unclear to me. Multiple speakers in a single paragraph and I'm not 100% sure who the speakers are.

---

"Now, I believe that's..."

"Trade routes," the assistant piped up, interrupting him.

Who's saying the first line? And which 'assistant' is saying trade routes? I can take a good educated guess studying the context, but otherwise is unclear.

---

I like what you got so far though and I'll be looking into future chapters!

---

Quote from: James StarRunner on February 01, 2012, 05:33:27 PM
Seems a little out of character for Jakob to mention delicious souls and for Daryil to be the one to put Jakob back on track, which is amusing.

Or is it?

I've fixed some of the problems.  Some of them I'm not sure I can easily fix without introducing worse problems.

Well, I'm not going to debate your character, but he did seem quite traumatized years after he last consumed real souls. Or at least really hated himself for it. :B

Quote from: James StarRunner on February 01, 2012, 06:04:50 PM
Well, I'm not going to debate your character, but he did seem quite traumatized years after he last consumed real souls. Or at least really hated himself for it. :B

There's a difference between actually going to do it, and pranking someone into thinking so by scaring the hell out of him.

Quote from: Tapewolf on February 01, 2012, 05:50:12 PM

Quote from: James StarRunner on February 01, 2012, 05:33:27 PM
Seems a little out of character for Jakob to mention delicious souls and for Daryil to be the one to put Jakob back on track, which is amusing.

Or is it?

It's still unclear as to which is which. I know which the _Mayor_ is supposed to think is which. I'm not sure yet which one the _reader_ is supposed to think is which.

Which may or may not be the point, at this stage. ;-]

Chapter 3

"Welcome back," Professor Jevex began.  "We covered Beings last time.  In this morning's session, we will be repeating the brainstorming exercise, but the subject will instead be us - the 'Cubi race.  Incubi and Succubi."  She drew out a new circle and turned to face the class.

One of the younger students, an osprey griffin named Mike, raised a taloned hand.  "They can eat emotions and don't need to sleep," he said.  "We," the professor corrected, gently.  Mike looked at the floor and radiated embarrassment.

"Daniel?"

"We have head-wings," a Doberman pinscher replied.  "No other race does."

"We can shapeshift," Sydney contributed.

As the minutes went by, various other attributes of the 'Cubi race were added to the diagram, such as thought and emotion reading powers, wing-tentacles, the drawback of emotional instability and the fact that it was possible to ascend, achieving a third set of wings, indefinite lifespan and a spectacular level of power.  "Though tri-winged 'Cubi are different enough to a normal 'Cubi that they could almost be classified as a different race," Professor Jevex pointed out.

"Clan symbol," Sheila said, simply.  Some of the younger students radiated puzzlement at this, so she tried again.  "Most adult 'Cubi have a mark somewhere on their body, the symbol of the clan we were born into.  It's the one thing we can't hide by shapeshifting."

"Very good," the Professor said, "Richard?"

"We're top of the food chain," the jackal said and as before, his remark was met with a cold silence.  "But we are!" he protested.  "Top level predators, the Master Race.  All others are prey for us, alive or dead..."

"Is he serious...?" the osprey piped up.

Professor Jevex gestured for silence and sat upon the table.  "It is not my place to criticise Richard's parents or the beliefs of his Clan," she began, "But it seems clear to me that his upbringing has been vastly different to most of the rest of us.  In times gone by this would have been closer to the norm, but even before the Dragon Wars our race has often had to keep a low profile to avoid persecution.  Richard's attitude, I'm afraid to say, is very likely to get him killed unless he is able to keep it under control."

"But Professor," Richard objected, "The Dragons and Fae have both departed from this realm, so that leaves us as the Master Race to inherit Furrae in their wake.  Why shouldn't we take advantage of our superiority?  Who can stop us?"

The professor sighed, and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"It is true that in a fair fight, a Tri-winged Clan Leader could mop the floor with even a very powerful Demon," she said, "But life is rarely fair and a Tri-wing can be killed, even by an ordinary Being if the right situation arises.  There have been only a few hundred Leaders in the entire history of our race, and nearly all of them have perished.
"In any case, you are not a Leader," she pointed out, and then paused.  "...unless you are an Aspect of Dimanika, come to troll my class...?" she asked hopefully.  Richard shook his head.
"Daryil, then...?"  A look of distaste crossed Richard's features.  "No," he replied stiffly, "I'm not."

"Well then, if you are just a normal dual-winged 'Cubi like the rest of us, it is essential you know just how vulnerable you are.  If provoked, even a juvenile Demon or a Being adventurer can slay you with a single lucky stroke for all your powers and trickery.  Your first and best defence is to be a model citizen and give them no excuse to attack you in the first place.

"Back when SAIA was founded, we had to keep hidden or risk immediate execution, simply for possessing a clan mark or head-wings.  Until quite recently, SAIA was the only 'Cubi school and it was made dimensionally separate from Furrae to prevent the Dragons or adventurers from storming it and making us all extinct.
"It is only within the last two centuries that Beings have become tolerant enough for us to live more openly among them, but we do so on their terms and so we have to behave ourselves.

"The excesses of our past and the black propaganda of our enemies have left us with a very nasty reputation.  Let's be clear about this - stealing your neighbour's soul and turning his hide into trousers is not considered acceptable behaviour, no matter how sexy they look on you.  Random acts of murder will get you killed, or worse, it may get other members of our race who happen to be in the area killed as well or instead - and if someone else is executed for your crimes it is likely to spark a war between clans, a war which our race can ill-afford."

Richard was taken aback.  "But we have all these powers!" he complained.  "Why were they given to us if not so we can use them how we want?"

"There is a time and a place for everything," the professor said placatingly.  "The purpose of this institution is to teach you - not just how to make the most of those powers, but when it is safe and sensible to do so.  And most importantly of all, we will help teach you the self-restraint that you will need to avoid killing or maiming your friends in a moment of anger or earning yourself an early grave.

"At the end of the day, how you use your powers is your own business.  This school can teach you techniques for fighting, for self-defence, methods of healing and methods of causing pain and torment in others.
"We teach seduction and we teach public relations.  We teach adventuring and mechanics.  We can also teach you how to manipulate souls."

"A question, please, Professor," Richard said.  "Does that include eating them?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from some students and a flux of emotions washed throughout the room.  Some - such as Richard - looked positively eager at this prospect, others were horrified and the remainder watched with interest to see what would happen.  Professor Jevex emitted a sharp spike of annoyance and seemed to be on the point of hitting Richard for a second or two.

"Yes and no," she said after regaining her composure.  "We will teach you how to trap souls and how to consume their energy, but it is not intended that any of you use these techniques upon live specimens and we will mention that only in passing for completeness.  The main purpose is to teach you how to consume synthetic energy, and how to use it for various other purposes."

Richard made a face and radiated facetiousness.  "Freakin' typical... a free sample to get students hooked on Jayhawk's product.  Why?  Why'd anyone want to pay for a cheap imitation when you can steal an actual soul for free?"

"Because doing that will get you killed," the professor snapped, and then continued in a more mellow vein.  "While Jayhawk do have an interest in this and some of their researchers will be doing guest lectures, that is beside the point.  More advanced students will be taught how it is actually synthesized."

"For what it's worth, soul-eating was and is far rarer than most Beings would have you believe... it is, I think you will find, largely a myth put about by the Dragons to aid in our extermination.  Angels are far, far more prone to such acts of violation, and some say this is why they have been dying out.  On that note I should probably add that consuming a real soul - aside from being abhorrent to most 'Cubi - will damage your own soul in ways that Jayhawk energy doesn't, but that is neither here nor there.

"To answer your question, our school will teach you how to heal souls of the living, and how to trap them for humanitarian purposes if the body dies.  You will also be taught how to consume synthetic energy in order to extend your lives and powers.  While it is possible to adapt these techniques to consume a living victim, that will be left for you to figure out on your own if you truly wish to become a monster after your graduation and taint the souls of any descendants you may have.

"But it is vitally important that you understand this:  We are all at the mercy of the other races and we, the school, must ask that you remember this and think very, very carefully how your actions will look to others.  For the sake of your fellow 'Cubi, if not for you."

Reluctantly, Richard nodded.


"You... you plan to secede it from Fairwater's kingdom...?" the mayor looked horrified.  "But won't this... he will... we do not want Parbury to get dragged into a war!"

"That should not be a problem," the incubus said.  "You see, we have already reached an agreement with the King.  I know him of old.  In fact, Daryil Clan helped him take the throne.  We would not even have considered this project without first obtaining his consent."

"In that case... I believe all is in order, Milord," the llama stated.  "All that it requires now is an exchange of signatures."  Carefully, he and the bat read through the document and when sure it was the same as the draft they had been given, signed it.

The incubus took it, read it through once and then handed it over to his aide.

Mayor Dickens started.  "Milord, it must be signed by your own hand.  It will not be binding if signed only on your behalf."

"That..." the incubus said, and looked a little embarrassed.  "Trust me, it is better this way."

As the llama and bat looked on, the scruffy dog signed it, looked at it and then pressed a thumb against the page.  There was a faint hissing sound and a small amount of smoke.  When his digit came away, there was a perfect monogram on the page - the mark of Daryil's Clan.  His chest was faintly glowing in the same shape, visible for a few seconds through the T-shirt.

The bat stared at him with a look of incredulity - the llama's face was a textbook illustration of slack-jawed idiocy.

"Ah well," Daryil said.  His husky face became vulpine and the scruffy T-shirt exploded as his back-wings appeared, scattering fragments around the room.  Fortunately he remembered the jeans, which morphed slightly to accommodate his hip-wings.  "I guess the game's up," he said.  "I was wondering how long it would take you to realise."

"You?!?"

"Yes," Jakob said, and reverted to his wolfish base form.  "He is the Lord Daryil.  I apologise if you feel you have been mislead, that was not strictly our intention, but sometimes there have been assassination attempts.  Against both of us, in fact.
"For your information, I am actually a lord and I do frequently act as our clan's official representative.  But at the end of the day, Daryil is the clan's Leader, not me.
"By the way, I also apologise for my Lord's appearance and attire, though it could have been worse.  He intended to conduct this meeting in a skin-tight catsuit and would have done so if I hadn't stopped him."

"I'll wear it afterwards," Daryil said.

"Must you, Milord?"  Jakob looked pained.   "It's not very becoming for someone of your status.  It will make a very odd first impression."

It's shiny," Daryil said, as if that explained everything.

"It's none of my business, Milords," the Mayor said hesitantly, "But is this some engagement you have planned for this afternoon?"

"Sort of," Jakob said, and looked slightly uncomfortable.

"We can provide transport as a token of our esteem if it would help.  We would not wish you to be late."

"That's okay, we'll walk," Daryil told him.  "It's just an informal thing, and what better way to check out our shiny new city-state?  Well, town-district-state."

The Mayor gulped and Patrick took a few steps backwards.

"It's a simple informal dinner to celebrate," Jakob soothed.  "It doesn't have to be anything fancy."

"I don't know of any suitable restaurants in the area," the bat said uncertainly.  "Certainly none befitting a clan leader..."

"It's befitting that we should sample the local produce," Daryil countered, "So we're going down the chippy.  Fish and chips for the entire clan!  Except for Werrew, he doesn't like fish.  And Falkirk is a vegetarian."

"Please, Dar," Jakob said, "Fish and chips is a wonderful idea, but please, please... just don't do what you did last time..."

Daryil makes no promises Jakob, Daryil makes no promises. I can't wait to see what zany antics are in store for you.

Good old Fish N Chips.

One could only imagine how that could end up with how Daryil feels about fish.

Quote from: joshofspam on February 11, 2012, 04:59:04 PM
Good old Fish N Chips.

One could only imagine how that could end up with how Daryil feels about fish.

It's mostly live fish he has a problem with.

Quote from: Tapewolf on February 11, 2012, 05:48:34 PM

Quote from: joshofspam on February 11, 2012, 04:59:04 PM
Good old Fish N Chips.

One could only imagine how that could end up with how Daryil feels about fish.

It's mostly live fish he has a problem with.

Reminds me of that old quote - "I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals but because I hate plants."

Quote from: VAE on February 13, 2012, 07:57:13 AM

Quote from: Tapewolf on February 11, 2012, 05:48:34 PM

Quote from: joshofspam on February 11, 2012, 04:59:04 PM
Good old Fish N Chips.

One could only imagine how that could end up with how Daryil feels about fish.

It's mostly live fish he has a problem with.

Reminds me of that old quote - "I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals but because I hate plants."

Hey don't diss the flavor of the Plant Kingdom.

Now I wonder what it is that he did last time. >.>

Heh. The jig is up!

... and I do wonder about the vegetarian. Most chippies use animal-based fats in their fryers, rather than vegetable-based ones; the meat flavouring is more popular, or so I understand. Less common are the ones that use olive oil, for example.

A secondary consideration is that vegetable oils "wear out" faster, requiring more maintenance and replacement...

but I digress a little, I think.

Really? Here people use mostly sunflower and/or corn oil for frying. I use sunflower oil myself. However, most restaurants and fast food chains re-use the same oil multiple times, which is unhealthy and ruins the taste of the food. But lots of people will eat it anyway.

This is specifically in the case of deep-frying, rather than pan-frying, I should clarify.

I may also be misremembering certain details (like which vegetable is used, for example)...

Deep-frying or pan-frying you can use the same oils. Deep-frying is better, but if you use the same oil again and again it becomes saturated and thus the problem I mentioned (unhealthy and bad-tasting, but people will still eat the stuff).

Quote from: Gabi on February 15, 2012, 06:19:19 PM
Deep-frying or pan-frying you can use the same oils. Deep-frying is better, but if you use the same oil again and again it becomes saturated and thus the problem I mentioned (unhealthy and bad-tasting, but people will still eat the stuff).

Saturated? That seems odd.  I mean, where is it getting hydrogen from?
I thought it was more splitting into shorter hydrocarbon chunks? *shrug*

Quote from: Gabi on February 14, 2012, 05:09:08 PM
Really? Here people use mostly sunflower and/or corn oil for frying. I use sunflower oil myself. However, most restaurants and fast food chains re-use the same oil multiple times, which is unhealthy and ruins the taste of the food. But lots of people will eat it anyway.

Have you ever used sesame oil? It's quite aromatic and gives a quite indescribable taste 

Quote from: VAE on February 15, 2012, 11:17:01 PM

Quote from: Gabi on February 15, 2012, 06:19:19 PM
Deep-frying or pan-frying you can use the same oils. Deep-frying is better, but if you use the same oil again and again it becomes saturated and thus the problem I mentioned (unhealthy and bad-tasting, but people will still eat the stuff).

Saturated? That seems odd.  I mean, where is it getting hydrogen from?

From the air, I suppose. I learned that from my mother while she was studying nutrition.

Quote from: justacritic on February 16, 2012, 12:06:30 PM

Quote from: Gabi on February 14, 2012, 05:09:08 PM
Really? Here people use mostly sunflower and/or corn oil for frying. I use sunflower oil myself. However, most restaurants and fast food chains re-use the same oil multiple times, which is unhealthy and ruins the taste of the food. But lots of people will eat it anyway.

Have you ever used sesame oil? It's quite aromatic and gives a quite indescribable taste  

I have, but not for frying. A couple of drops of sesame oil can give the food a good taste. Any more than that makes me literally sick. My dad learned that the hard way.

Chapter 4

A Being walked down the street, many years of living in Grunmore making a simple act into something furtive, as if every shadow held a mugger.  Things weren't quite that bad, but sometimes they came close and it only took one knife to end you, all over a packet of cigarettes.

A cry of despair made his fur stand on end for a moment - it seemed to be coming from the Jolly Roger fish bar.  There was a blinding flash from inside it.  "No!" the person yelled again, "Daryil, NO..."


Sheila took off her jacket and let her hair down, for once actually looking like a traditional succubus and not some kind of diabolical stockbroker.  Settling herself into a nearby chair in the common room, she put up her feet and gave a contented sigh, which turned into one of annoyance as she noticed that Sydney and Richard had got into some kind of argument again.

"But," Sydney was saying, "Last lesson!  You agreed!  You agreed that it was wrong to kill Beings like that!"

"It's dangerous and could easily get you killed," Richard said, "I agree with that, but 'wrong'... that's a little steep, isn't it?"

"I think you may have missed the point of professor Jevex' little sermon," Sheila said testily, "That it is evil to murder Beings for their souls."

Richard's head-wings fanned out threateningly.  "Evil?" he repeated, "How dare you?!  I pride myself on following our laws!  I would never, ever do something that was evil!"

A hush fell upon the room, interrupting card games and pausing the Soul Burglar tournament set up on an ad-hoc network in the corner as everyone turned to look.

"So seducing a Being, raping them and then devouring their eternal soul as they beg for mercy doesn't strike you as being 'evil'?", Sheila said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Should it?" the jackal shrugged.

"Then pray explain... no, wait...  What would you consider to be evil?" she asked, changing her mind in mid-sentence.

"Murdering a fellow 'Cubi, maybe an Angel or Demon, depending on the circumstances.  That's wrong.  Killing their entire family, or stealing their souls, that's evil."

"But it's okay to do that to a Being...?"

"Of course."

"Of course nothing!" she snapped, and then looked contrite for a moment.  "Look, just humour me.  Pretend I'm an idiot.  Explain to me why it is perfectly moral for you to murder a Being, but evil for someone to murder, say... me."

"Sure thing," Richard said, with a shrug, and seemed happy to be given something constructive to do.

"Consider a simple food chain," he said, pulling out a tablet device and sketching a hasty diagram with a stylus - his gloves (and for that matter, his fur) didn't work well with capacitive touchscreens.
"You got predators at the top, you got a prey species lower down, probably several layers of prey species.  Finally you got the herbivores, and the plants at the bottom.  Is that evil?"

"In the abstract, no.  But it's a very subjective thing.  However, I don't think anyone can argue that it's evil for a wild animal to kill and eat something that is their natural prey."

"Exactly, it's the natural order," Richard said.  "And Beings don't consider it evil for themselves to eat livestock."

"Largely, no, but not universally." Sheila pointed out.

"Yeah, so you have your animal rights and vegetarian protesters," Richard said enthusiastically and gestured at Sydney.  "And the same goes for Beings.  You'll get people who are squeamish about it or want to be sure that the animals don't suffer before they're slaughtered.  I don't have a problem with that, it's their choice.  But they shouldn't have the power to prevent me from doing what is only the natural order of..."

"Now hold on," Sheila interrupted.  "There's a big difference between non-sentient animals and Beings.  You're saying that it's not evil for, say... a wild fox to eat a wild rabbit.  I agree with that, because the fox is only doing what it's been genetically programmed to do.  That's not to say a feral fox has no free will, but hunting prey is its default behaviour.

"We, being a lot more sentient, have a greater amount of free will - we get to choose what we want to eat and how we go about getting it, that means we are not bound by the natural order of things in the same way as the fox and rabbit are.

"In terms of base form, I'm a large dog, you're a jackal.  I could crack your skull open right now and eat your brains.  But if I did, it would be my decision to do so, not a matter of instinct.  Everyone in this room would see it as an act of pure evil and no amount of protesting that it was 'the natural order of things' could hand-wave that away, or get me out of a lengthy prison sentence."

Richard glowered at her and radiated anger but remained silent.

"See," the Border continued, "Your 'natural order' argument gets even more shaky when both the predator and the prey species are sentient and can make their own choices.  A wild hare can't reason with a fox, but a Being, knowing that I was intending to kill them, would.  They would make emotional appeals and logical arguments as to why they should be spared, why what I was doing is both wrong and unnecessary.  Not only that, but we are empaths.  I would know how much suffering and horror I was causing to my victim, and... and it would make me question it.  It would make me think about how I would feel if I was the one being tormented and threatened with such a horrible death..."

"But you wouldn't be," Richard said.  "You're the predator."

Sheila opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"Let me ask you a question," Syd said.  "If you were a Being, would you consider being raped and then murdered for your soul an evil thing?"

"I guess so," he admitted, "But I'm not a Being."

"Up until your 20s you were identical to a Being," Sheila retorted.  "Would that make it moral to kill you while you were in your 'prey' state?"

"No!" the jackal squawked.  "I had wings!  I'd grow up to be something far more than a mere Being!"

"But if you were killed before that could happen, what would be the difference?"

"Beings aren't fully sentient!" the white jackal protested.  There were murmurs throughout the room, and Sheila's headwings drooped.

"What makes you say that, Richard?" she asked softly.

"They don't experience emotions in the same way that we do.  They can't feel them as strongly, so they're obviously less sentient than Creatures."

"I'm afraid that's not true," she said.  "Demons and Angels feel emotions about the same as Beings.  We, 'Cubi, are the odd ones out, and that's because we're over-sensitive to emotions, to the point where we need special training and mental exercises just to live a normal life."

Richard did not reply, but his head-wings were quivering and underneath his fur the blood had run to his face, making the tips of his ears slightly pink where the fur was thinnest.

"Yeah," Sheila said.  "Look, I'm sorry, but being 'Cubi is a very mixed blessing.  Given the choice?  I'm not sure I'd want to be any other race.  We have a lot going for us, but the fact is, some of it just sucks."

The jackal shook his head and walked out of the room, radiating a wide spectrum emotions that could be loosely described as 'emo'.

Shelia sighed.  "Well, that sucked.  Sorry for killing the mood, everyone," she said to the common room.

"You know what?" the succubus mused, "I think I need something to cheer me up."

"Oh?" Syd asked.  "Any ideas?"
 
"...yeah.  I'm gonna get laid.  See you later..."

Syd watched, trying hard to suppress a pang of jealousy as the succubus made her way back towards the dormitory wing with a slightly predatory expression on her features.  With a mental effort he wrenched himself back to the present and in doing so noticed some of the other male students were radiating similar emotions.  He gave a sidelong look at Daniel, who turned away with a surge of embarrassment and made a show of adjusting his headwings.  Sydney gave a shrug - that was the Doberman's problem, after all - so he paid it no mind and headed off to try and find Richard.


The jackal stood back and admired her handiwork with a smile that simply radiated sadistic pleasure and anticipation at the heinous crimes she was about to commit.  She stood there, clad in her favourite evening wear, a black form-fitting suit that either screamed "seductive" or "run like buggery" depending on whether you were more powerful than she was or not.

Like many 'Cubi, the succubus was of the belief that if you really wanted to inspire terror in your victims, you had to dress the part.  Perhaps it was a little cliched, but it worked and that was that... nothing said 'soul killer' in quite the same way as shiny black leather.
The wolf Being, on the other hand, said nothing at all.  He stared up at her, his eyes wide with terror and his shivering limbs bound tightly to the four corners of his own bed.

"This is your last night on Furrae, you little shit," the succubus crooned and stroked his chin with a hand gloved in black, funeral garb for her victim's doomed soul.  Tentacles rose behind her from her feathery wings, capped with little wolf faces that leered wickedly, staring into her helpless prey's eyes.  And once again, that smile.  "The only good accountant is a dead one, and you'll be so very, very dead."

The Being gulped.

"I like souls," the succubus purred.  "And yours is a very nice one.  Nice body, too," she slapped his belly for emphasis.  "Pity you won't be needing them anymore."

There was a muffled whimpering from his muzzle, bound shut with one of his own ties.

"Enjoy your final moment," the jackal said and jerked her head back.  She let out a piercing, girlish scream as a small polystyrene box appeared suddenly in mid air, right in front of her face.  She swiped at it and the box fell, turning over in mid air and spilling battered cod and fried potato across the Being and his bed.

The wolf writhed with a loud "MMMMM!" noise and the jackal panicked, sweeping the burning hot food off her victim's exposed fur.  "Oh shit, oh shit, I'm really sorry," she gabbled.  "Are you all right...?"  Cass froze, bapping herself on the muzzle with one shiny black hand as the murderess act came crashing down around her ears.  "Gods dammit!  Stop that!" she snarled as the Being snorted with helpless laughter through the gag.

"I'm not done with you yet, Being scum," she said, trying to regain her prey's delicious terror and failing miserably.  Daryil's gift had utterly killed the mood.

Cass sat on the bed forlornly sweeping the chips and fish back into the box.  "Well so much for a night of fear," she said sullenly, stabbing one of the soggy chips with a crappy wooden fork and eating it.  Out of politeness she offered a lump of fish to the wolf, who grunted and blinked twice, staring at the binding around his nose with both eyes.

Gingerly, Cass untied the bond around his jaws.  "Ta," he said.  "I don't suppose... Do you think... Would you be able to come back next week?"

Cass just glowered at him.

Ahahaha, so Cass is cosplaying as Keaton once again?

As an aside, loved the argument about ethics of killing Beings.

For those who may have missed it, I commissioned a couple of characters from this when Nyil was hurting for cash.  I'll probably get Syd done next.

Richard: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7376988
Sheila: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7441748/

and on DA:
http://mouseymachinations.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Tapewolf-Richard-284238306
http://mouseymachinations.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Tapewolf-Sheila-286299875

Yes, it was a very interesting argument... with a weird ending, but I guess that must be a far more common way to end things at a Cubi school.

And the food scene was funny. And the first scene was intriguing.

It's Saturday here, anyway.  Just.


Chapter 5

"Richard?" Syd called.  He didn't yet have control of his powers so as to be able to pinpoint nearby minds, but that would come in time.

"What is it?" the jackal returned tersely.  He muttered something brief into his phone and pocketed it.

"Look, I just wanted to say... I'm sorry about the argument."

"Yeah, well," Richard sighed.  "I guess it was bound to happen eventually, if I'm really so... different.  Still, it's hard... so many things I was brought up to believe.  And I still think that most of them are right," he said, with a sudden flash of defiance.

Sydney put up his hands.  "We'll have to agree to disagree there," he said.  "I was brought up weird too.  Actually it runs in the family.  I've had to re-evaluate a lot of what I was told as a child, and I guess you will too."

"I probably will, but not right now."

"Richard, if you don't mind my asking, why did you come here?  I mean... no offence, but you don't exactly fit in.  It almost feels like you were sent here against your will."

"I wouldn't go that far, but... well, yeah, there was an ulterior motive.  I was in Dresburg recently."

"Wasn't there some kind of disturbance there or something?"

"Yeah, they were gonna hang me," Richard said offhandedly, as if he had been fined for littering.

"What?!" Syd exclaimed.  "What did you do?  No, forget I asked," he said.  Richard looked up at the ceiling with a slightly crooked, toothy smile.

"Yeah, probably best you don't know.  They all had the noose around me and everything.  There was just one problem - the charm they used was designed to subdue Demons and it didn't affect my wings at all.  Out came the tentacles," he said, with a hazy smile at the memory.  Syd took a few steps back, radiating concern and a certain amount of horror.

"Yeah, it was kinda messy, but that's one of the reasons for these," he said, wiggling the fingers in a gloved hand.  "All the blood and wet bits, you can just wash it all off.  It works with the pants too, though not as well as latex does.

"Anyway, Mom figured I should lie low for a while after that, so she sent me here.  Partly to keep me out of trouble, partly to learn more restraint.  I guess... up until I was sentenced to death, she hadn't really appreciated the value of 'Cubi training."

"I thought most clans used one school or another," Sydney queried.  "What is your clan, if you don't mind my asking...?"

"Fa'Rana Clan," the jackal replied.  "Terror based.  Not many people heard of us, though."

"I can't say I have, either.  Are you forked from another clan?"

"Yeah.  There was a disagreement, a schism over how other races should be treated.  Most of the Clan went one way, and some of us... some of us decided it was time to part ways."

"So you branched off?"

"Pretty much.  Now, tell me about yours?"

"It's complicated," Sydney said.  "Please don't tell Sheila.  In fact, I'd prefer to keep it a secret in general."

"I won't tell anyone," Richard said, putting a hand on Syd's shoulder.  "I promise.  One 'Cubi to another, you can trust me - however much we may disagree about Beings."

"Very well.  We're renegades from a larger clan, I... I can't tell you who, not yet.  They weren't nice, they even ate the souls of their own members if they stepped too far out of line."  Richard's eyes widened and he radiated the same kind of horror that his classmates had earlier.

"Our clan father didn't have the know-how to break away properly so he used various tricks to try and conceal our identity and interfere with our link to the clan's Leader," Syd continued.  "There was a major disaster that wiped out most of them, though - otherwise they would have tracked us down and killed us all.   As it happened, they were too preoccupied with the enemies storming the realm to deal with the enemies who wanted to run away.  After that, it didn't really matter what they thought."

"Kind of the inverse of my clan," Richard said, thoughtfully.  "That explains a few things."


"The take is a lot lower than expected," the lynx said to his three associates.  "Winston is having trouble with his suppliers again, which is disappointing, but not unexpected.  We'll have to get involved ourselves, make them a bit more... pliant.  But right now, I'm more concerned about Balville, I think he's been holding out on us again.  Ron, you will need to pay him a..."

There was a shout from outside.  "Stand by to board 'em, me hearties!" the voice yelled.  There was a muffled thump.

"Ron," the lynx hissed, "Find out what's happening."

Ron made it halfway to the door when it shattered with a splintering crash, knocking the unfortunate camel backwards where he lay very still.

"Hands up, land-lubbers," Daryil said.  He was dressed in an authentic uniform used by the Altlarian Navy about eight centuries earlier, complete with tri-corned hat, an eyepatch and a cutlass that he held with expert precision.

"Who the fuck is this idiot?" the lynx snapped, and then choked as Daryil's enforcers arrived - a Demon panther who grabbed him by the throat with one arm, and his colleague with the other.  Clawing ineffectually at the Demon's toughened skin, the lynx noticed another enforcer, a muscular Alsatian hound in light adventuring armour.  He had the leathery wings of an incubus and had subdued the remaining member of their party, all except for Ron the camel, who was still motionless upon the floor.

"I's the Captain," Daryil announced, and gestured at the lynx.  "Throw 'im down, Bosun," he said, and no sooner was the cat on the ground than Daryil's blade was digging gently but firmly into his throat.  "Nice and easy, lads, or ye'll be shark bait."

"Milord," the Alsatian said, "There are no sharks in Grunmore, milord.  It's land-locked."

"Arr, that it be," the fox said.  "But ye be forgettin' one thing, Nigel lad... the swimmin' pool in Worple Road.  'Tis next on our list to plunder and pillage, and once it be ours, we'll fill it wi' sharks.  They'll walk the plank yet!"

"Very good, Milord," Nigel said.

"Captain," Daryil said, dangerously.   "Aye, Cap'n!" the Alsatian said, snapping to a quick salute.

Ron lay where he was, but one eye was half open.  Slowly and carefully he drew out a flick-knife and threw it at Nigel's back, between both wings.  He gave a grunt of pain and staggered, almost throttling his captive as he went down.  Captain Daryil didn't even turn his head, but Ron flared up in a burst of light and somehow became a rather large pile of camel-coloured sand.

"That were a stupid thing to do," Daryil said and the cutlass moved infinitesimally, drawing out a small bead of crimson that trickled down the blade from the lynx' throat.  "Stabbin' me First Mate in the back..."

The dagger popped out of Nigel's back, leaving it clean and healed.  "Thank you, Milord," he gasped.

"What say ye, my lad?" Daryil asked, "We should keel-haul the lot o' them."

"I agree, my Captain," Nigel said venomously, and wincing with each breath.  "Sadly, this is a council house and it doesn't have a keel.  But hypothetically, if we are going to ignore our usual conventions against harming Beings, could we please hang them by the yard-arm instead?"

"Nay," Daryil said, after a long pause.  "I says they should walk the plank at Worple Road, 'tis more nautical.  But for now, clap 'em in irons, we'll settle their fate later."  As he spoke, a set of manacles appeared in the floor and the wall.  Nigel and the Demon got to work, and none too gently.

Safely restrained, the dealers looked on helplessly as Daryil began to rummage through the desks, sweeping what documents and papers he found into a briefcase.  Nigel watched him for a while, before locating a large plant pot and headed towards Ron's remains, sweeping the late enforcer into it as a sort of makeshift urn.  Resisting the urge to desecrate the powdered camel's remains took all his strength.

"Bosun Istov!" the Captain said, "Fetch me the treasure, it must be nearby!"  The Demon gave a quick salute and ran upstairs, followed shortly by what sounded like some kind of major demolition work.  The lynx arched slightly and struggled against his bonds.

"I found these, Cap'n!" the Demon said, holding up a tea-chest filled with bags of white powder.  The lynx suddenly went limp.

"Booty!" Daryil cried.  "But it bain't the treasure.  Keep searchin'!"

Nigel stared hard at the lynx, studying his emotions.  The Being got more and more agitated the closer he got to a particular desk, so he lifted it up, wings flowing slightly to reinforce his already muscular arms.  The desk was lighter than he had expected and crashed into the wall, shattering.  Underneath it was a small hole cut into the foundations of the house.  Inside it was a small strongbox.

"Treasure, Cap'n!" he yelled, and broke it open as the Demon returned, which he did by assuming a foetal position and rolling down the stairs as a ball of toughened flesh.  The three of them gazed in awe at a fine collection of gold dollars, credit chits and account details.



The sun rose that morning to the sight of a winged privateer, standing upon the roof the house and staring into the distance with an ornate brass telescope.  Beside him flew the flag of Daryil clan.


"What?" the succubus said as the call came in.  "I left strict instructions I was not to be disturbed."

"Lady Finch... It's him!  He bought number 19.  He's... doing something to it."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"'Course I'm sure.  Who else would be dressed as a pirate with three pairs of wings?"

"Dimanika perhaps, but I'll take your word for it.  If it is him, what is he doing now?" the wolf frowned, her leathery red headwings drooping slightly as worry and uncertainty crept into her voice.

"Mowing the lawn, I think."

"That doesn't mean anything.  You're certain he modified the house?"

"He did.  He cast spells at it, cleaned up the paintwork and things like that.  Then he went inside and I heard a lot of power tools, and eventually he took out most of the kitchen fittings and dumped them on the lawn.  But then the trucks showed up.  Just now.  They were delivering something white, it looked kind of like gravel but there was far too much of it and it didn't sound right when it poured."

"What did he do with it?"

"Holy gods... It's gone!"

"What?  All of it?  Where?"

"I don't know, it happened while I was looking away!"

"He must have done something to... very well," the succubus said.  "You will go inside.  Wait until night and break and enter if necessary but I want you in that house.  Explore it - I can probably drop off a sonar unit.  Make sure he hasn't been digging tunnels.  And find out what he did with all this... 'gravel'."

"You think he suspects?"

"'Suspects' nothing.  Why else would he be muscling in on our territory?  He knows.  He knows about Project Epsilon."

It's getting pretty interesting.

I was laughing at Cass's big moment ruined by a gift from Daryil to his clan. Now we get to see him work as a pirate captain. Getting lots of Daryil time this story.

Though I was starting to wonder when that Panther first showed up that Imac might have gotten some newer body type upgrade. Though it is rather amusing to see Daryil pillaging the different criminal elements of his newly acquired town. This is all happening in his new town, right?

*objects to the mistreatment of fellow lynxes*

Seriously though, raising a pirate flag above the building was hillarious - I imagined the whole process as similar to the Crimson Permanent Assurance Monty Python sketch.


EDIT: Thanks for pointing out, Tape. *is a dumblynx*

Quote from: VAE on March 09, 2012, 11:29:38 PM
*objects to the mistreatment of fellow lynxes*

Seriously though, raising a pirate flag above the building was hillarious - I imagined the whole process as similar to the Crimson Accountancy Monty Python sketch.

The Crimson Permanent Assurance?  I hadn't thought of that, I was thinking more of Yellowbeard at the time.  The idea actually occurred to me when reading Treasure Island over Christmas.

And yes, most of this is happening in Grunmore.

Whoops, I was so busy focussing on writing later chapters, I almost forgot it was update day.  For those who read the Tenets, this chapter should explain one of the questions raised about it.

Chapter 6

Nicholaus was a cuckoo.  Not literally - he was actually a black-backed jackal - but figuratively, a child dropped into a foster family for them to raise.  This sometimes happened with Creatures - especially desperate ones - and usually the trick was to assume the form of someone's husband and impregnate them.

Those particularly skilled in the art would do so in the night, stunning the husband in their sleep and hiding them until the deed had been done so they would have no idea anything was out of the ordinary until the pregnancy occurred.

Nick was one of these, and while he had no idea who his biological father was, his surrogate father had taken the blow well and brought Nick up as his own son.
As he had grown older, Nick had been fascinated by the fact that he was a Creature and had, at appropriate points in his life, begun to watch for signs that he was coming into his powers.

At 16 he was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't gained the ability to uproot trees like a regular Demon would, but he consoled himself with the fact that Demons tended to be evil, and anyway the whole cuckoo thing was a party trick of incubi and occasionally succubi.  So he waited a bit longer.

At 21 he witnessed a multiple vehicle pile-up and tried unsuccessfully to heal one of the injured, who despite his best efforts, died before the emergency services could arrive.  During counselling, a small pair of wings appeared on the back of his head.

Nick's fascination with discovering his race was rekindled and he plunged into studies of 'Cubi, poring for hours over a list of known 'Cubi clans, reading everything he could find about the race, and wondering when his own mark would appear, and what it would be.

Partly because of his failure at the crash scene and partly to try and activate his clan mark, he took to magic far more seriously than he had in his youth and his efforts were soon rewarded.

Checking himself over one night he found the mark had appeared on his back and his soaring joy turned suddenly into an icy lump of horror as he recognised the clan marking.  He was a member of Clan Jyraneth.


Richard was on the phone when Syd entered the classroom, deep in some conversation.  "...haven't given me much to go on," he was saying.  "No name, no description...   Okay, fair enough, but you can't expect it to be easy to find...  Okay, call you back later.  Love you, bye!"

Before Syd could ask any questions, the door opened again and a particularly scruffy incubus sauntered in, closing it behind himself.

"Welcome," he said.  "I am Professor Falkirk, and I will be teaching the introductory shapeshifting classes."

The professor was an ungroomed poodle with grey feathery wings.  Some of his fur had been inexpertly shaved and cut back to try and keep it under some semblance of control and in blatant defiance of the clothing guidelines for professors, he was dressed only in a pair of shiny black leather jeans not unlike Richard's but only slightly too small.  This, combined with his unkempt, shoulder-length hair gave him the vague appearance of a gay floor-mop on the prowl.

"Er, professor," Sheila said, "I've seen the dress code, and... well... no offence, but are you supposed to be dressed like that?"

"No," he replied simply.  "Now.  You didn't hear this from me, but I have it on good authority that next week will be given over to a field trip for the freshers, i.e. you lot.

"That is why we will be rushing straight into basic shapeshifting, because we need to be sure that everyone will be able to hide their wings on the trip."

"Why would we wanna do that?" piped up the white jackal.

"Ah, Richard, isn't it?" the professor said, trying unsuccessfully to brush the hair out from his eyes.  "I've heard a bit about you."

"Thanks," Richard beamed.  "But why should we hide our wings?  Why should we conceal our glorious heritage?"

"Well," he said, "See if you can figure it out by the end of the lesson.  Otherwise, that will be your homework for today."

"It allows you to get close to your prey so you can murder them more easily," Sheila said, and the jackal looked extremely pleased.  For his part, the professor gave a particularly convincing impression of not having heard any of this, despite the fact that he had been looking straight at them the whole time.


"Okay," Professor Falkirk decided, once everyone had the basics.  "I think you've got the hang of that.  Susan, you probably want to hide either both sides of your wings or none at all... having just the left ones out looks kind of silly and it will affect your balance.

"Some of you knew how to do this already," his eyes roamed from Sheila to Daniel and finally Sydney.  "And that's not unusual.  Hiding things is the easiest kind of shapeshifting for a 'Cubi to learn, and that's good as a survival trait.  Indeed, without the ability to easily hide ourselves, the 'Cubi race might well have been wiped out completely during the Dragon Wars.

"Now, it's possible to use meditation to lock the shift in place more permanently, say if you needed to live as a Being for 20 years or something..."  Richard sniffed at this.

"...prevent you from reverting to base form if you lose consciousness.  But that takes some time to learn, time we don't have before the camping trip starts, and frankly you shouldn't need it for this little outing anyway.  So instead, I'm going to teach you a handy trick that is fun and easy to learn, but is likely to prove completely irrelevant to your trip."

So saying, he opened his briefcase, drawing out a bunsen burner and a large cylinder of camping gas, which couldn't possibly have fit inside it.  Setting it all up, the professor turned on the gas and ignited it with a click of his fingers.  When he was sure it was burning steadily, he adjusted the ring at the bottom of the device and set the flame to its most fierce.  Then he passed his hand through it.

"Anyone can do that," Richard said.  "Even a Being.  You're not spending enough time in the flame for it to burn you."

The professor said nothing, but calmly placed his hand in the jet again, and kept it there for about seven seconds.  Then he moved it to the hottest part of the flame and began flicking at it.  There were several gasps from the class, and even Richard seemed impressed.  Finally, Professor Falkirk removed his hand from the burner and grasped a piece of paper, leaving only a small amount of soot on it.

"Element resistance," he announced.  "Specifically, heat resistance.  Don't you try this just yet," he told Richard, "You'll melt your gloves."

"Frankly, I'm not supposed to be doing this," he continued, "But I figure we may as well give it a go and see what happens."  He shut off the bunsen burner, and put it back in the briefcase.

"Obviously, I can't start you off on candles or the like just yet," he said, rummaging around, "Since without some degree of control you'll risk setting your fur alight and we can't have that.  Burnt fur smells appalling and I would probably lose my job or face serious demotion.  Particularly since I'm not officially doing this yet.   So keep it quiet, okay?"

As he spoke, he removed from his briefcase an improbable number of fan heaters, and plugged them all in.

"Roll up, folks," he called out as the heaters warmed up.  "Step right up!  Gather round and witness the amazing secret!  I'll tell you how this is done.  Just concentrate, and you should feel the temperature drop off.  Richard, Kath, Aary, Matt... anyone else with gloves... you'll need to remove them for this."

"Remove...?" Richard seemed appalled.

"Well, yes," the poodle sighed.  "Either you won't feel it, or worse, the heat may damage them."

With strange reluctance, Richard gingerly took off his left glove but no amount of coaxing nor taunts would induce him to remove the other, or even explain why not.


It was gone ten when Lord Daryil finally packed up and left.  Evan had been watching for some hours, expecting him to leave when the sun set, but no... as the light faded, the incubus conjured up a number of lights which floated above the garden.  He continued to work, trimming hedges, replacing with loving care the crumbling trellises and fencework that had long since succumbed to the rot and ruin of neglect.
Eventually Evan realised that the work was winding down... indeed, there wasn't much left that could be done, even the garden shed had been replaced.  But, he realised, he's never once been in the house since the kitchen fittings were removed.

With bated breath, he waited for the incubus to teleport away, and then, once he was sure he was alone, climbed down from his tree.  Lady Finch had not yet been able to ship him the sonar unit, but there was no reason he had to do the entire mission in a single night.  For now his plan was to quickly - and without detection - break into the house and look around, just to scope the place out and give him some idea of what to expect when he returned for a more thorough investigation.

The alligator took from one pocket a small device, monitoring RF signals from the house - the sort that would be generated by a burglar alarm or similar microprocessor device.  He circled No.19 entirely - the readings were negligible... probably spillover from the adjacent properties.  No lights or any other warnings came on as he completed the circuit and did another pass, this time with a device checking for magic.  If there had been any, it was probably too late, but the magic and electronics scanners tended to interfere with each other so it was a risk he had to take.  But again, it came up virtually blank.

The lack of security was starting to worry Evan now, but even so he made his way to the back door.  Perhaps he spent so long on the garden he didn't have time to set anything up.  Perhaps he doesn't think there's anything worth protecting...

The sole security measure appeared to consist of a simple cylinder lock and a sign saying 'DANGER: DO NOT ENTER'.  Out of habit, Evan took out the scanners again, probing more closely.  Yes!  Some semblance of security at last... a very weak spell on the sign.  But it didn't seem to be powerful enough to do anything useful.  Maybe it lit up when someone opened the door...

He turned his attention to the lock.  Lady Finch had given him the key The Family had used to enter No.19, but whatever else Daryil had or had not done, he had at least changed the lock.  Reassured, Evan took out his tools and began to jimmy it.  Easy enough.  He looked around furtively, and sent a text message to the Lady, letting her know that he was about to enter.

Taking a deep breath, Evan gingerly turned the handle, stepping to one side in case it flew open somehow.  It did, and the alligator was immediately buried in an avalanche of ten millimetre nylon washers.  Though he couldn't see it, the warning sign had changed to read "I TOLD YOU SO".

Daryl never ceases to amuse me... To be frank I expected something to do with lollipops, but washers are equally Daryl-ish

Daryil certainly likes to play his games. I wonder if Daryil even new he was being spied upon or was the trap made for anyone that used that door?

Seems like Richard has has a thing about one of his hands. Maybe an old injury or perhaps a clan mark?

Falkirk seems like a fun teacher, keeping learning fun is a great way to keep the students learning.

Daryil antics are the best ever :mwaha

Daryl fans united!  :P

Quote from: joshofspam on March 24, 2012, 01:19:08 PM
Seems like Richard has has a thing about one of his hands. Maybe an old injury or perhaps a clan mark?

Can't be a clan mark. He'd be proud of that, wouldn't he?

And an injury seems out of character, since it'd mostly heal itself, what with magic and all. So... yeah. I'm at a bit of a loss as to why that particular item is present, and what it signifies...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on March 26, 2012, 01:17:42 PM

Quote from: joshofspam on March 24, 2012, 01:19:08 PM
Seems like Richard has has a thing about one of his hands. Maybe an old injury or perhaps a clan mark?

Can't be a clan mark. He'd be proud of that, wouldn't he?

And an injury seems out of character, since it'd mostly heal itself, what with magic and all. So... yeah. I'm at a bit of a loss as to why that particular item is present, and what it signifies...

maybe him and his parents are from a clan he looks "down" upon and split off of?

Chapter 7

Nick had been wandering around the supermarket, piling his basket high with large globes of something brightly coloured and slightly squishy that he couldn't quite identify.

The jackal picked another globe off the shelf, trying to work out whether they were individually priced or sold by weight, and the basket had turned into a shopping trolley while his back was turned.  That seemed inconsequential at the time, but he started to get a bit worried when he couldn't find the checkout and got progressively more and more lost inside the maze of a gigantic hypermart that had been nothing more than a corner shop when he had entered it.

A voice boomed out and the sky turned black, and the supermarket had somehow become a square, ancient and decrepit.  For a few moments he still held one of the soft globes in his hand, but then it was gone.

"A child..." the voice boomed.  "A new child, after so long!" and then her voice cracked like a whip, as if repelled by something.  "But raised by Beings!!  A half-breed... the wickedest of all heresies!  Who would dare...?!"

And suddenly she was before him, a strange and terrible jackal with three pairs of leathery grey wings... on her head, on her back and on her hips.  Her fur was white, but it flowed into darkness and where the two met was a pattern of cracks and fissures... something between the fractured surface of old porcelain and dark runes that almost glowed with malignant power.

"Who are you?" he asked.  Her reply was an incoherent shriek of rage and fury, causing Nick to stagger slightly.

"You were born as one of my Chosen," she said coldly, "You would have, should have grown to be a bold warrior in our holy crusade against the blasphemous taint of Beings... instead you ally yourself with them in defiance of the sacred teachings!"

"How do you know?" Nick asked.

"I can see the sin in your very soul, heretic!  You even tried to save the life of an enemy!" she screamed, as if the younger jackal had murdered her first-born child.  "As an apostate, you are beyond redemption, and so... you shall share the fate of all others who have betrayed me and the gods I serve.  KNEEL!"

Nick gave a cry of pain as a figure - entirely shrouded in black - grasped his hands and pinned them behind him, forcing him to his knees.  Another figure raised the sword and brought it down swiftly upon him as the Lady watched, cackling with malicious pleasure.

For a few moments everything was unreal and hazy as his severed head flew into the air to be caught in mid-arc by the Lady Herself.  His vision was fading to grey as She stared into his eyes... as the life ebbed from him, her eyes flashed and he could feel Her power bursting his very soul, shattering it, shattering him... extinguishing him utterly as She had destroyed so many other unfortunates condemned for heresy, for a crime he hadn't even known existed...

Nicholaus lay in bed, his black and yellow fur matted with sweat and his eyes wide with terror.  He had read that a tri-winged Leader could communicate with their younger descendants while they slept - but he still wasn't quite sure if it had really happened to him or not.  If it had been real and not just a dream, he knew one thing... Jyraneth wanted him dead.


Daryil stared out from an apartment in the tower block, gazing out over Grunmore.  Ruler of all I survey, he thought.  Well, up to the motorway, anyway.  He turned his attention back to the apartment - it was squalid and generally rather nasty, and he couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of guilt and unhappiness.  So this is how the other half live, he thought.  It was extremely depressing.

Leaning back in the chair, Daryil thought hard, considering the problem at hand.  The mess that was Grunmore was a mélange of so many different factors - poverty, crime, unemployment, drugs - that it seemed almost intractable.  But he had time.

Even Daryil couldn't wave his hand and make everyone happy and rich... not without enslaving the entire district and holding their minds in sway, at any rate.  And that was something which he had not only sworn not to do, but even if he hadn't, it was downright nasty and quite definitely against the spirit of his own Book of Tenets.  One had to provide a good example to one's children, after all...

No, there had been several generations of unemployed here, and that tended to work out badly.  Some of them had children for the sole purpose of increasing their benefits.  And to make matters worse, a run-down area like this also tended to have the problem that the sort of jobs available to the long-term unemployed and the various intertwined benefits could easily mean that you would earn less in an honest job than you would by remaining on benefit.

Back in the days of Ha'Khun, things had not been quite so complex.  What had worked then might very well not apply to the case of Grunmore, but nonetheless, Daryil decided that it was time he had a word with Lord Page, see if he had any insight into an urban renewal project such as this.

Ultimately he hoped to set up a Jayhawk manufacturing plant here, and that alone would benefit Grunmore considerably since a proportion of the earnings from the plant could be fed back into the local community.  The clan's wealth was not infinite and a little more dependent on Jayhawk with its relatively few sites than he would really have liked.  More production facilities and new product ranges would help secure things, but it was a long term project.

One of the other problems with Grunmore was that the plant would need an educated workforce and there had developed an unfortunate belief that education was for suckers.  That was something which Daryil was determined to change, but it would take time...

We'll have to start small, he thought to himself.  Where can we begin?  He tried to call Jakob, but the wolf's phone was turned off.  Oh yeah, he'll be with Dax tonight, he thought, and spent a few happy moments picturing the scene.  I wonder if Simeon's busy tonight?  But he shook himself... there was work to be done first.

Daryil took one last look out across the district before leaving, and his gaze dwelt upon the lush farmland he had mentioned to Jakob during the negotiations.  Porridge, he thought, and a frighteningly toothy grin flowed across his muzzle.


"Yes," Richard told the phone.  "...With a sort of black and tan pattern.  Look, I'm running low again.  Really gotta get this thing a new battery.  Love you too!  Bye..."

"So," Syd was saying as the jackal returned, "If it's not that, how is the school funded?"

"Donations, mostly," Sheila replied.  "They get a stipend from King Fairwater and recurring donations from a number of clans.  Taun provides about 20% of the funding, actually."

"Who's the largest contributor?" Richard asked, radiating curiosity.

"Daryil provides about 57.18% of their funding, and the clan has a majority stake on the school board."

Richard looked appalled for a second and continued to generate a dull background feeling of horror for some time afterwards.

"Oh come on," the Border scowled.  "Daryil may be mad, but he's not stupid.  Look at Jayhawk, for instance.  A world leader in cybernetics and prosthesis, and it's that which finances most of their donations.
"Look, if the school's curriculum centred on decorating bananas or something equally useless, do you really think so many students would attend?
"No, whatever else Daryil may get up to, his touch on the school has been light.  Where is it...?"  She dug out her copy of the school prospectus.

"Frequently asked questions... here we are.
Q. Clan Daryil holds a majority stake on the school board.  Should I worry?
A. No.  Daryil is on record stating that he supports the school for the good
   of the 'Cubi race as a whole, not to impose his Clan's doctrine upon its
   students.  The school board has adopted his suggestion to ensure that all teaching remains neutral and is not biased towards or against any given Clan's ideals, except where they may endanger the student or our race."
   
Richard sighed and threw up a shiny gloved hand as the horror ebbed away.  "Okay, okay.  Anyway, we better get packing."


"As most of you will be aware," Lady Finch began, glancing around the board room, "The so-called Lord Daryil has recently taken control of Grunmore."  Some of the others shifted uncomfortably as the she-wolf's gaze passed over them.

"Is it true that he entered Cash-Fur-Cheques and while yelling imprecations, spilled all their money on the floor and knocked over all their tables and desks before smashing them up with a sledgehammer?" a feline incubus asked.

"Unfortunately, yes.  The employees are still too afraid to return and this has impacted some of our cash flow.  Daryil has also obtained a majority stake in a struggling cafe known as "Arnold's".  It is almost directly opposite C-Fur-C."

"A cafe...?  He's planning something..." a hare succubus muttered.

The head of the table was taken up by a male raccoon who lacked any wings, but somehow exuded the ageless confidence of a Creature.  "What does he know about the Project?" he asked sharply.

"That I cannot tell you, Professor," Lady Finch said. "However, I believe we may at least be able to put a halt to his incursions."

"Indeed...?  What are you proposing?"

"If my sources are correct, believe we have pinpointed his youngest child, the last he had prior to his ascension - the last he can ever have.  This incubus has recently come of age, and we will take him hostage.  If Daryil refuses to cooperate, we will execute his son."

"That's a terrible thing to do to a fellow 'Cubi," one of the others said.  "It's not like the poor sod has any say in the matter himself."

"I know," Lady Finch sighed.  "But Project Epsilon is too important for an idiot like Daryil to interfere with.  If completing it means we have to sacrifice a member of a rival clan for the greater good, then that is unfortunate, but part of the price we have to pay.  Personally I believe Daryil will take the hint and back off, which frankly, is all we really need.  Once the project is completed, we can release the child."

"I don't think we need to go that far," The Professor objected.  "Besides, can you imagine his reaction if his youngest son was murdered...?  He would destroy us all, body and soul!  But I can see an alternative.
"You see, if we take the child hostage as you have suggested, we will have a naive young incubus.  As with most Daryil members, he is likely to have grown up entirely ignorant of his heritage - I believe Daryil considers it to be 'a nice surprise' for when they grow up.  Be that as it may, he will not know the Daryil way of life... and while he is in our care we can teach him our way.  If the project lasts long enough, we will have turned an enemy... into an ally."

"foreshadowing as subtle as a steamroller"
Also I presume that child is from fear's child...

... Wow these people are really stupid. The fact that they're even thinking about using one of Daryil's children in even any of their schemes must mean they have a death wish. I mean the guy had his lover murdered and he declared outright war and ate souls. What do you expect now that he's a tri-wing? Genocidal rampage, Taun gettting involved, dragons flying in formation across the sky, the sun and moon pulling troll faces. Seriously those guys need to shelve those plans.   

Quote from: justacritic on April 06, 2012, 11:13:06 PM
... Wow these people are really stupid. The fact that they're even thinking about using one of Daryil's children in even any of their schemes must mean they have a death wish. I mean the guy had his lover murdered and he declared outright war and ate souls. What do you expect now that he's a tri-wing? Genocidal rampage, Taun gettting involved, dragons flying in formation across the sky, the sun and moon pulling troll faces. Seriously those guys need to shelve those plans.   

Also makes me wonder WHO would be as foolhardy to do that.
also I think the moon making troll faces is something Daryl would do, but really, are they so stupid as too think about kidnapping Daryl's kid? that would basically give away their position ASAP.

FWIW they do shelve that plan for a bit.

Nicholaus should try and make contact with Fa'lina, he would be pretty safe in saia, and maybe he can even "join" the Ja'fell

Considering Daryil has a habit of getting the better of people who try to get the better of him. I would have thought the safe thing to do was pull up all their plans and move somewhere else with their project.

From what little they probably would know, they could probably come to the conclusion that Daryil is a person more into productive development that benefits all races. He's basically a person that helps people.

So either there very stupid or this project their working on must be something that puts them at odds. Maybe a little of both.

Umm... Interesting questions, everyone. Mine is probably not as interesting, but it still puzzles me: Cash-Fur-Checks?

Quote from: Gabi on April 07, 2012, 03:53:47 PM
Umm... Interesting questions, everyone. Mine is probably not as interesting, but it still puzzles me: Cash-Fur-Checks?

I wondered whether that would come up, since one of my proofreaders didn't know about such places either, despite living in a country which is economically 'not all there', shall we say.
It will be fleshed out around chapter 9, for what it's worth.  And I could explain it now, but I'm curious to see if anyone else will first.

Quote from: Gabi on April 07, 2012, 03:53:47 PM
Umm... Interesting questions, everyone. Mine is probably not as interesting, but it still puzzles me: Cash-Fur-Checks?

I'd also like to know what that is...

In the UK, there is a historical usage of cash for cheques, that being places that will extend your living allowance by accepting cheques, and not cashing them until after your next payday, and supplying you with some, but not all, of the face value of the cheque in question.

They make their money off the difference between the face value and the price paid. For those who are short of cash, this can be a way of stretching what cash they have until their next payday. Of course, it's not terribly bright, since _next_ month, they're just as likely to end up just as short or more so, since they'll have already spent more than they have earned.


It's a nice little earner for the shops in question.

Ahh, thanks no wonder I had no idea what those are.. It's a UK thing :P

(no offense intended to any english folk here)

None taken.
/Aliens

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on April 08, 2012, 03:38:47 AM
None taken.
/Aliens

Funny that I have no real nationality, I'm basically a stranger in every country I go.
'tis the life of a wanderer

Oh, I see. And is there a reason why the word 'for' has been replaced by 'fur'? Because the phrase "cash fur cheques" doesn't seem to make any sense.

Quote from: Gabi on April 08, 2012, 01:52:50 PM
Oh, I see. And is there a reason why the word 'for' has been replaced by 'fur'? Because the phrase "cash fur cheques" doesn't seem to make any sense.

It's a pun

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 08, 2012, 02:31:47 PM
It's a pun

More to the point, "Cash-For-Cheques" is likely trademarked.

Chapter 8

Nick stood, gazing out across the smoking ruins of a destroyed city.  Though bodies of slain 'Cubi lay scattered amidst them, corpses dead with weapons still in their hands, others still living marched on, kneeling in reverence before a torn and burned mural of the Lady.
Judiciaries cloaked entirely in shadow like the ones who had executed him stood watching the living, ever-vigilant for signs of blasphemy against the Lady and the voices she heard in her head.

There was a booming cry of outrage, but he ignored it.  

"Why...?" the voice screamed.  "I destroyed you, heretic!  Blasphemer!  Abomination!  Why do you return to haunt me?  How can you haunt me when your very soul itself has been shredded apart and burned into ashes?"

"I think I'm asleep," Nick said.  "I'm still here, and it must be because the execution was all in my head, or maybe it was all in your head.  You may be my Leader, but you're mad, so far gone that you can't even tell what's real and what isn't.  Harla'Keth was razed long centuries before I was born... and none of your faithful remain."

"Why...?" the Lady's voice sobbed again, echoing through the blackness.  "All my faithful were taken from me... all that remain are heretics, abominations in the eyes of the Gods!  Why should they be allowed to live on, wallowing in sin and wickedness when my poor, pious children were left to die..."

"By you," Nick said, and he suddenly knew that it was true, could see the end of Harla'Keth in his Leader's own broken mind.  "With all your powers, you could have saved them, but you didn't!" anger flared inside him from some unknown source.  "You fled, abandoning the clan who served you and in some cases even loved you.  It was your own cowardice and control freakery that slew them... you helped the Kamei'Sin kill them!"

There was a cry of rage and anguish.

"Leave my mind, heathen scum!  You are but a figment of my imagination!  I stop thinking you!" she screamed, and it all disappeared.  Nick lay in his bed and wept, for he had seen all the atrocities that the Red Queen had ordered.


Sydney fumbled with the biscuit, promptly snapping it in half.  For all that, the marshmallow refused to stick to the biscuit, and squished itself into the fur of his fingers instead.  He swore loudly.

"Should have kept it in longer," Sheila opined, flames dancing across her bosom, reflected in the shiny leather top which had become something of a trademark in the way she dressed.  "Here, you might find this useful..." she uttered a string of incomprehensible syllables, which Sydney repeated aloud.  Nothing happened.

"You got the last bit backwards," she said, and repeated them again.  This time he felt a tingling in his fingers, and the squashed marshmallow somehow detached itself from his fur, floating just a millimetre away yet firmly in his grasp.  He tried to spread it on the remains of the biscuit, but it had cooled and hardened so he just ate them separately.

"Handy," he said between bites.  "Where'd you find that spell?"

"I told you I read a lot," she smiled.  "Anyway, where's Richard?"

"He's gone for some more twigs," Syd informed her.
The Border collie rolled her eyes.  "Probably on the phone to his girlfriend or whatever," she opined.

"Hmm.  Maybe..." Syd muttered, and seizing a marshmallow, thrust it into the flames with his bare hands, concentrating on the power that made him element-resistant.  Combined with Sheila's spell he was able to smear the molten treat on a biscuit, which he handed over to the Border.

As he began to toast his own, Richard's phone rang from the top pocket of his satchel.  Startled, Syd lost concentration and quickly withdrew his hand from the flames with a yelp of pain.  The marshmallow tumbled into the raging heart of the fire, leaving him to watch dolefully as it bubbled and melted away.

"Heh," Sheila said with a chuckle as she lifted the phone away from its holster, "...do you think we should answer it...?" she stopped, and began to laugh out loud.  Around another fire some yards away, Daniel and Mike glanced around with a start, Mike promptly losing his own marshmallow to the greedy tongues of flame as well.  The griffin gave Sheila an evil scowl and scrabbled for some replacements.  Another student, a puma, wandered in the rough direction of the stream, clutching an empty canteen and glancing at Sheila with vague puzzlement as she went past.

"What's so funny?" Syd demanded, spreading his latest attempt on a biscuit and eating it.

"It's not his girlfriend at all," she giggled, holding the phone up so Syd could see it.  The word 'Mom' had appeared on the screen.

"Guess he's more of a stay-at-home kid than I thought," she smirked, putting the sleek device back where she'd found it.  "Not that that's a bad thing, of course," she added in a more sober tone.  "Family ties are important, and I'd say he's younger than we are, anyway.  Probably about 21."

"So," Syd said after a short pause, "What about your family?  Do you get on with them?"

"I can't say it's that exciting," Sheila confessed.  "But yes, I do.  I miss them a bit, but really it's just like I'm at university again.  As you should know, Illiath's is run like a university anyway - it breaks up around the solstices, so I'll visit them then.  But yeah, anyway.
"My parents told me I was 'Cubi when I was about 15.  I studied at Fairwater University until I was 22, then worked as a librarian for a while.  They threw a surprise party for me when my head-wings came in... apparently they had the cake hidden in stasis since I was about 20.
"As for my parents... Mum's a wolf, she's about 320 and she works in HR for the Clan.  Dad's a Border too, about 400 and he's the Clan's Technical Director.  That's about it, unless you want the nitty-gritty details like who I was friends with at school, or..."

"What in the world..?" Syd jumped as Richard suddenly dumped several kilos of brushwood in a nearby space.

"I got the twigs," he replied.

"We don't need that many, just a couple!"

"But the fire..." Richard protested.

"We have enough logs for that," Syd said, gesturing at a pile of them.  "What I wanted was twigs for toasting the marshmallows on.  Green ones so they won't burn easily..."

"Aw shit," Richard snarled and his head-wings drooped.

"Nevermind, I'm sure we can find a use for them," Sheila soothed.  "Anyway, your mother tried to call while you were out."  Richard whirled around as if electrified and snatched up the phone, running out of earshot.  He was soon back.

"Crap," he said, "Out of power.  Anyway, what were you talking about just now?"

"Well, I'm sure she knows you're safe," Syd put in.  "And we were discussing our families, actually."

"Oh?"

Sheila shrugged and began to recap what she'd told Syd.  "But that's about the size of it," she said.

"Hmm," Richard said.  "You like Beings an awful lot for someone raised by 'Cubi,"  Sheila's head-wings fluttered slightly but she remained calm and impassive.  "Ketonia Clan is run as a corporation," she said primly, "And the vast majority of our customers are Beings.  At the risk of putting it too simplistically, the first rule of running a successful business is this:  You don't eat your customers.  You treat them nice and you get along with them so they're happy and they want to give you their money.  If you eat them, they stop being customers and start being enemies."

"Point," Richard admitted.

"How about you, Richard?" Syd put in.  "What do your parents do?  How do you get on with them?"

"Oh, right.  Mom runs the Brain Museum," Richard replied.

"I beg your pardon?"  Syd's wings fanned out slightly.

"I figured most clans had them," the white jackal shrugged.  "Well, when someone from our clan makes a kill, they're supposed to put the head into stasis and send it to her so it can be properly catalogued and ope..." he broke off, looking concerned.  "What's wrong with her...?"

Sheila didn't even look away from the fire as the puma dashed past, sobbing and hugging the canteen tightly against her chest as the contents slopped about.  Even Mike and Daniel had edged away to the far side of their campfire, head-wings fanned out in alarm.  The atmosphere had become dank with a horror and disgust that Richard seemed unable to detect.

"As I may have mentioned," the Border said icily, staring into the flames, "Members of the 'Cubi race are very sensitive emotionally.  Your psycho upbringing has clearly upset them."

"Okay, okay," Richard said, raising his hands as if to ward Sheila away.

"What about your father?" Syd prompted.

"He's kind of the black sheep of the family," Richard admitted, looking kind of sheepish himself.  Syd radiated a short burst of panic.

"He comes from another clan, I mean," the jackal said hastily, spotting his expression.  "One that was traditionally an enemy.  He's a renegade, but not all members of Fa'Rana trust him."

"Fa'Rana, hmm?" Sheila said, jotting down a memo to look up the jackal's clan.  "Do you get on with him?" Sheila asked.  "Is he loyal to your mother's clan?"

"Oh yeah, I trust him," he replied.  "He's got the right attitude.  I got to admit, Mom can be a bit distant sometimes, but Dad was always there for me, thick or thin.  When I was a puppy he told me so many stories of the golden ages, how things were before the Dragon wars, tales of bravery carried out by Jyraneth's Raiders, and the deeds of Johan Cross.  He taught me to hunt and how to use my wing-tentacles to... well, nevermind that.  He's also a lawyer."

Syd and Sheila looked at each other unhappily, but said nothing.

"Yeah, he defended me in court," Richard said.  "At Dresburg.  Okay, so I still got the rope and all, but thanks to him, it was only two death sentences instead of fifteen.  He also helps Mom run the... the Museum when she's away on business.  He's taking care of it now, actually."

"Oh?  What business is she doing?" the Border asked.

"Oh gods," Sydney muttered, "I bet she's getting more brains for the..."

"Nonono.  Sometimes our chief sends her out on special projects.  The Museum's what she does when she's off-duty, but I'm probably not supposed to tell anyone that..." he looked worried for a moment.

"We won't tell," Syd promised.  "One 'Cubi to another." Sheila nodded in agreement, and Richard looked rather touched.

"Thanks.  I guess it's your turn now," he said brightly, nodding at Sydney.

"Oh yes," Syd replied.  "My... turn."

"Hey," Sheila said.  "It can't be worse than... well, Richard's."  The jackal tried hard to suppress a grin.

"Very well," Sydney told them, "It's something like this..."

Looks like the Queen is still in the denial stage of grief.

Here goes nothing!

Also I'm surprised (and happy) that there was only 1 scene change....
But I miss Daryl

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 21, 2012, 02:44:18 AM
Here goes nothing!

Also I'm surprised (and happy) that there was only 1 scene change....
But I miss Daryl

Since I'm currently halfway through writing chapter 24, I'm thinking I might run chapter 9 next week for a change to get the Syd spoilers out of the way.  That chapter also has Daryil in it.

Quote from: Tapewolf on April 21, 2012, 08:28:21 AM
That chapter also has Daryil in it.

:eager

"Insanity is not a condition, it's a way of life" (quoting amber) Should be my Daryl's Motto

That was quite an interesting and informative chapter.

"My god! It's filled with brains!"

That's actually an interesting story. The Red Queen is madder then ever and we learn Richard's mom runs a museum filled with brains. That brain thing seems rather eccentric  method of keeping score of kills.

I wonder if anyone who goes in there has asked to see Abby Normal's brain yet? :P

Still very informative of Richard's clan.

Quote from: joshofspam on April 21, 2012, 10:04:06 PM
Still very informative of Richard's clan.

Still want to know why he seems to have a grudge with clan Daryl... Maybe it's an offshoot clan from the clan who's leader Daryl murdered?

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 22, 2012, 01:38:59 AM
Still want to know why he seems to have a grudge with clan Daryl... Maybe it's an offshoot clan from the clan who's leader Daryl murdered?

That'll come out in about 5 chapters.

P.S. it's Daryil, Da-Rill

Quote from: Tapewolf on April 22, 2012, 08:44:54 AM
That'll come out in about 5 chapters.

P.S. it's Daryil, Da-Rill

Oh you- You are evil and you know it, baiting me like that  :<

Also yeah, that was a typo of a sort, and as spell check doesn't work on names, I didn't notice it...

Okay, here's the bonus update, to get the secret of Syd's heritage out the way.  I'm sure many of you have guessed already, especially after seeing the picture of him.  I will update as normal next weekend, but after that it's back to the original, fortnightly schedule.

P.S. The core of this chapter was written on a train to Barrow-in-Furness, around the 22nd of December


Chapter 9

Linda was trembling as she entered his room.  "Wh... what's the matter, mum?" Syd asked her, a cold panic sinking into his gut.  Some of the panic was hers, picked up by some metaphysical antenna and re-experienced by Syd's own nervous system.  It was an ability he had, even though he didn't know it at the time.

"Sydney," she said slowly, "Do you remember what I told you...?  About your father?"

"He was a demon, you said.  He died before I was born."

"Yes,  but now..." her voice guttered away into silence... she looked at him helplessly as if the thoughts in her mind were too fragile, too ineffable to translate into something as coarse as spoken language.

"What are you getting at?" Syd said, now thoroughly unnerved and rather tense.  "You think I'm a demon?  With these wings, it's not exactly a surprise.  If the town exiles me when I come into my heritage, well, it's something I've had a lot of time to prepare for.  Don't worry about me."

"No, you don't understand!  He is back.  Returned from the very grave itself...  He... he wants to see you!"

"Lin," a male voice said from the landing.  His mother stiffened and with half an apology, she left the room.  Frightened, Syd pressed an ear to the door, and caught snatches of heated conversation.

"...you made your feelings quite clear then!" the man was saying.

"What was I supposed to do?!  Demons seduce young maidens and then murder them once they have had their way with them!  Everyone knows this!"

"Nonsense.  We would have brought him up together.  I'd have protected you both with my life.  You could have had everything and you threw it all away!  Look," he said, tiredly, "I don't like this either, but it's best for him.  At the end of the day this has to be his choice, but without proper training and guidance, they'll hang him too!"

Syd shrank back and sat in the nearest chair, his pulse racing slightly as the handle turned and the figure entered.  He was a Doberman pinscher, in jeans and an armless top chosen so as to show off two muscular arms.  Down his back were a large pair of dark leathery wings, so dark that they seemed black until the light hit them in a certain way, revealing a dark brown tint.  Sydney recognised them immediately, of course - he saw wings just like these each time he looked in a mirror.

"Hi Sydney," the Doberman said, smiling but with a certain amount of strain showing behind it.  "I'm Dorcan.  We've met before, but you wouldn't remember it.  I'm sorry, I really should have tried harder to visit you more often, but... well, my kind aren't exactly welcome in this town."

"I know," Sydney said.  "I heard some of what you were saying to mum.  It's true, isn't it?  The town will drive me out when I turn 25.  I've been preparing for that, I can leave whenever I have to."

"Yeah, they probably would, but that's not why I'm here.  Look, Sydney, this may sound an odd question, but do you know what you are?"

"Demon, right?  That's what mother said, anyway.  That I take after you."

"That's half-right," the Doberman said, "But there's something she probably didn't know about me.  She certainly doesn't know the whole story."  He paused and stared into Sydney's eyes.  As he did so, a smaller pair of wings appeared on his head.  Syd drew back, fascinated.

"You're an incubus," he said.  Dorcan smiled at him.

"Actually, I'm not," he replied, "But you are."

"That's crazy," Syd protested.  "If I'm 'Cubi, one of my parents must be, and you've got the head-wings, so it must be you, surely?  If mum was the 'Cubi, she wouldn't have had you killed... and if you're not 'Cubi, what are you?"

"Sydney, I have a lot to tell you, and we might not have much time.  I don't expect all of this to sink in immediately.  At some point you will meet my family, and then we can go over it all again in as much detail as you need."

The young fox nodded.

"To answer your question, I was an incubus.  I was still alive when you were conceived.  Your mother is a regular Being.  She betrayed me and had me executed on a trumped-up charge.  They say I raped her," he said bitterly.

Syd's vulpine features became a perfect picture of disgust and horror.  "D-did you?  You're saying you raped my mother?!  And I'm... I'm the result?"

Dorcan's headwings fanned out alarmingly.  "No, no, no!  We were... okay, maybe I used my 'Cubi charms to seduce her, and... I can't exactly say you were entirely a planned pregnancy, but that happens a lot with 'Cubi.  And at the time... I wanted to marry her, I really did.  I wanted to have children by her.  We were due to be engaged, but then...
"Well, I thought I could trust her, and I let slip I was an incubus.  The following morning I was arrested and hanged at noon.  They didn't even give me a fucking trial!
"Your mother tried to stop the hanging when she realised it wasn't just going to be banishment or some kind of probation... I'll give her that.  But all the same, it's left the relationship between us, well, strained."

The fox stared at his father, a mixture of emotions welling up inside of him.  "I... she didn't say...   All these years I thought you were... I couldn't know..."

"Yeah," Dorcan said.  "I bet you didn't get any of my letters or presents either, right?"

"...no," he said.  Dorcan's face screwed up and it looked like he was going to cry for a few seconds, though no tears came.  He muttered something under his breath, and mastered himself.

"The... The thing is, Sydney, you're 23, right?  In a very short time you're likely to get your head-wings.  Like mine.  At that point, you'll start to come into your powers, and that will be a very dangerous time for you.
"Since you won't yet know how to conceal them, you will be easily recognised as a 'Cubi, and you'll start to experience emotions more and more profoundly.  That, if nothing else, is something you have to learn to control before you get yourself into trouble.  I don't want you to swing too, whatever Linda may..."

"She's still my mother!" Syd snapped.  Dorcan raised both hands in a gesture of acceptance and contrition.

"You're right of course," the Doberman said.  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.  But you must understand, she had me killed!  That moment, when my neck broke, I lost everything... powers most Beings would kill for, gone forever!" his face screwed up slightly and he was silent for a while.  "I hope you can forgive me if my attitude towards her is somewhat... coloured," he said at last.

"I... I get that," Syd said.  "But if you don't mind, there is one thing I still don't understand.  If you aren't an incubus after your death, what are you now?  Some kind of ghost...?"

"I'm a robot," Dorcan said.  "Following my death, I was saved by Niall, who trapped my soul because he felt that execution without trial was a gross miscarriage of justice.  I have one or two minor powers, simple emotional sensors and the ability to conceal my wings.  I am of course grateful for a second chance at life, but all the same, I lost a lot that day."

"What about me?" Syd asked, trembling.  "You said that the headwings will be dangerous to me.  You came to warn me or offer advice for that time?"

"Both, really.  We got a bit sidetracked.  I should have got to the point more quickly, saved the whys and wherefores until later.  See, most 'Cubi clans use a training school of some kind to teach their young the essential survival skills. 
"I came here to talk to you about that, to give you the prospectuses for a couple of the bigger schools, SAIA, Krishnov's, ISIS...  But it's a big commitment."

"What kind of 'big' are we talking about, here?  How long does it usually take to learn the basics?"

"About two hundred years," Dorcan said.  "SAIA used to be completely isolated and students would stay within its confines for three or four centuries, maybe with an occasional visit outside for family reasons.  It's still a bit like that, but less strict.  The others are more like a regular university where you can go home at weekends and the solstice breaks."

"So I'd still be able to visit mum?"  Syd asked.

"Yes, but... it might not be wise."

"...Because the town won't let me..."

"Yeah," Dorcan said.  "Unless things have changed here, they'd hang you for the smallest excuse, just because you're a..."

"Not anymore," Sydney said.  Dorcan's face lit up.  "Really?  You mean they've finally grown out of their anti-Creature..." his face fell as he saw that Sydney was looking at the floor.

"They don't hang Creatures anymore.  Not after one of them got away... actually, it was probably you."

"What do they do instead, Sydney?" Dorcan asked, stony-faced.

"Decapitation.  In public, of course," Sydney said in a small voice.  "When hanging didn't work on you, they wanted something more... permanent... so that... so they can make absolutely sure... I'm dead..."  Syd burst into tears, burying his face in his father's shirt.  "They sh-shoot the head afterwards..." he sobbed.

Dorcan stroked the young fox's hair, doing the best he could to comfort the youth, but his own hands were trembling and he could feel an icy sinking sensation in his guts - quite forgetting that he had only a fusion plant in his abdomen.  And then his hand touched something odd in the young man's hair... something that was moving, unfolding like a flower blooming in time-lapse photography.  It was his son's head-wings.

"Oh fuck," he whispered.


Daryil walked down the street, dressed in one of his more goth-looking outfits.  His wings were out, and that was one of the reasons he had gone unmolested.  For an ordinary mortal, going out in Grunmore with expensive or sexy clothes was an open invitation to be mugged or raped, but Daryil was more than a match for anyone of that ilk.  Earlier, someone too dim to recognise a Creature had pointed a gun at him, and that gun was now a strange flat object where the metal had run molten across the pavement and later cooled.  I probably should have done something more spectacular, Daryil thought, but he was pressed for time.  They should be waking up about now, he mused.

Now he was in the centre of town, what passed for a shopping area in the poverty-stricken district.  Impressively, the place was filled with a hubbub of people, and Daryil smiled as he opened his mind and sampled their emotions.  Yes, good... Arnold's was drawing people from Parbury itself and beyond... and that would help increase the coffers of his fledgeling government.

There were a number of shielded minds in the mix as well, Daryil noted - usually that meant 'Cubi.  Some of them were the enforcers he'd placed to keep the peace in the area, a mix of warriors of his own clan like Nigel, and hires from other clans and races too.  He liked being an equal-opportunities employer and besides, sometimes an outside perspective could be very valuable.

The queue stretched out across the street and folded back, filled with punters eager for the taste of porridge.  Arnold's Cafe now boasted an unprecedented variety of spices and condiments to flavour an otherwise boring and unremarkable dish and it had somehow become big, very big.

Daryil had provided temporary hands from his Clan and other allies to help serve the throng until new hires could be arranged.  All were volunteers and it was easy to see why - the emotions provided by the crowd were a treat for empaths, almost as delicious as the porridge itself.

"How's it going, Arnold?" he asked, entering the cafe through the back, staff only.

"I can't believe it, my Lord," the bear said.  "For the last five years trade has been dropping off and now... it's like everyone's making up for it.  And now I'm worried that I won't be able to cope..."

"I'm looking into more premises and staff," Daryil reassured him.  "That Cash-Fur-Cheques place will do, once planning permission has gone through.  It has to go anyway."

"What about those who need its services, my Lord?  Not everyone here has a bank account..." he asked, and then quailed slightly as Daryil frowned.

"You're right, perhaps it is too soon for that," the incubus replied, and his voice became bitter.  "But you don't know how big a cut they've been taking!  I will not have parasites like that in my town!  If that means I have to cash their cheques myself at cost, then so be it.  Maybe I can contract it out to the Bank of Ketonia..."

"How long do you think this boom will last, my Lord?" he queried.

"Just 'Daryil' will be fine," the fox said.  "You can call me 'Dar' if we've... actually I'm not sure you're my type."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind.   I think that we can keep the thing going for a while.  It's not like I plan to over-expand here.  But what we'll do next is home delivery."

"Delivery...?  But it will go cold, my... Daryil."

"I'll summon some warp-acis, they will handle delivery.  And talking of cold, we're going to want some freezers in place for when the weather gets hotter."

"Freezers?"

"Porridge ice-cream," Daryil said simply.  "Actually, once we have the warp-acis in place we can probably sell them in the southern hemisphere right now.   Yeah... if we do that we will need the extra capacity so we can handle separate time zones. Maybe this one should sell the hot porridge and Cash-Fur-Cheques should sell the frozen ones?  Anyway, we'll see how it goes."  Daryil planted a kiss on his cheek and went upstairs.

Well at least Dorcan was there when Syd got head wings, or it could have ended with a chop  :mowwink ... To be fair I sort of guessed Syd was Dorcan's son from chapter 1 .
I'm sort of surprised it was Lin who ratted Dorcan out, and I'm even more surprised she allowed nothing to reach Syd...
I thought that Lin would have known Dorcan was a incubus not a demon, due to the fact that he DID shapeshift his wings away, though maybe she thought it was a patch...


Also now I have a image of Daryl in a mankini  :erk ... I need bleach...

Nice chapter overall, sorry for not reading it at first.

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 30, 2012, 06:23:04 AM
Well at least Dorcan was there when Syd got head wings, or it could have ended with a chop  :mowwink ... To be fair I sort of guessed Syd was Dorcan's son from chapter 1 .

One of my proofreaders was all 'Woah.' when that came out, but that said, it's not something I took enormous pains to conceal.  The pictures in particular make it a bit of a giveaway :3

QuoteI thought that Lin would have known Dorcan was a incubus not a demon, due to the fact that he DID shapeshift his wings away, though maybe she thought it was a patch...

Depends - 'Cubi are rather rare and owing to persecution from the wars, they have tended to keep themselves hidden.  IIRC DMFA in the present-day has a population of approximately 30'000 individuals and it's possible that might take another dip the way things are heading in the current storyline.
In the Project Future/Epsilon era the numbers have recovered somewhat, say 40-50k, but they're still rare and backwards places like Mundesberg probably still don't know much about them.

QuoteNice chapter overall, sorry for not reading it at first.

Well, next time I'll know not to break with the usual schedule :3

Daryil's porridge shop was fun to design.

You can make a new scedual... 7 chapters a week maybe? :3
(I'm joking)

Out of curiosity how many proofreaders do you have? (I haven't seen a single spelling/grammar error yet)

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 30, 2012, 07:54:59 AM
You can make a new scedual... 7 chapters a week maybe? :3
(I'm joking)

Out of curiosity how many proofreaders do you have? (I haven't seen a single spelling/grammar error yet)

Even I missed that Daniel changed from a wolf into a Doberman after chapter 1 (I fixed it the other day), so it's not infallible.  I have two people looking at it on a regular basis, and a couple of others who are interested but too busy.  Sunblink is one of those, but I've been sending her the fragments and chapters which feature Keaton to get her input and so forth.

Quote from: Ignuus66 on April 30, 2012, 06:23:04 AM



Also now I have a image of Daryl in a mankini  :erk ... I need bleach...

And then you see an image of that on the net. You'll need more than bleach to help you then

Just a quick reminder: the first part of Syd's backstory ran last weekend, breaking the normal update schedule.  If you missed chapter 9, go back and read that now.


Chapter 10

"Sydney," Dorcan said crisply, "You said you were planning to run away in case the town turned hostile on you.  How long will it take you to pack?"

"What, now?"  Syd's face was damp with tears.

"This shithole of a town is no place for you," the Doberman said.  "From what you're saying, they'll lynch you on sight now that your head-wings have come in and I'm damned if anyone is gonna cut off my son's head.  I'd kill them all first," he snarled.  The young fox stared at him, horror mingling with his fear and grief and the shock of all he'd just learned as he felt the leathery protrusions on the back of his head.

"We can loan you some clothes," Dorcan continued, "But if you have any favourites or prized possessions you want to bring, pack those now, we're going to have to leave at once.  We can pick up the rest later.  Oh, and use a rucksack, not a suitcase.  How long will it take?"

"Not long," Syd admitted, panic setting in.  "But where are we going?  I haven't chosen a school yet!  I haven't had time!"

"The new term doesn't start for a few months yet," Dorcan said.  "Unless you want to go to SAIA, but they say it's not the same as it was when I was a kid.  I'm going to take you to my grandparents, they'll be happy to house us there until you're ready to go to the school."

"Can't you teach me to hide them?"

"No," Dorcan said.  "I can't remember how.  My new brain... it doesn't have the faculties to do it, and what I'm doing to hide my headwings as a robot is completely different to normal 'Cubi shapeshifting."

"How can you forget something like..."

"If you lost your eyes and went blind, you'd still remember what things looked like," Dorcan said.  "But if you lost the visual centre in your brain you wouldn't.  I've lost the shapeshifting centre, so I can't remember how it was done and I can't teach you.  But my grandparents can."

"Why your grandparents?"  Sydney asked, packing some of his more treasured clothes, some leathers and a rather ancient laptop into a battered rucksack.  Last of all, he put on a scabbard containing a longsword, cheap and factory-made but servicable.  A memento of an earlier life... "Did... did something happen to your real parents?"

"They're on holiday," Dorcan said.  "Doing a motorcycle tour of Valmorath.  And yeah, they'll be delighted to meet you, but I do have to take you to my grandparents at some point anyway, it's a clan duty."

"A duty?"

"Yeah, one of the bylaws of our clan.  See, my grandparents?  They rule our clan..." he frowned, glancing at the computer.  "Where did that come from?!  I didn't think they allowed those here."

"I got it at university.  And no, I'm not supposed to have brought it back with me," the fox admitted nervously.  "That alone would get me flogged if they found out... and now that I'm an adult... You're right, I have to leave this place, I'm not safe here.  But what about my mother?"

Dorcan froze.  "What about your mother?"

"She's coming with us, right?"

"Nah, she's a Being, she should be safe enough here.  Like I said, you can visit her at solstice, once you've learned some basic concealment."

"That's not what I meant."

"No, Syd," Dorcan was starting to lose patience.  "She's not coming.  There's nothing between us now.  I... Look, it's not like I hate her - I mean, she seems to have done well enough bringing you up and I'm very grateful for that, but I don't want her to be a part of my life anymore!  Every time I look at her, it reminds me of how she betrayed me to my death!  You think I want that?!"

He screwed up his eyes and sighed.  "Look, Syd, it wouldn't be fair on her either.  We can't just uproot her and place her with a group of powerful, dangerous Creatures who blame her for what happened to me!  Fuck, Mum would go ballistic if they ever met!  She's already killed the hangman..."

Syd looked frantic.  "It's not that either!  It's the town... when they realise I've gone... Oh my gods... 'Aiding and abetting a Demon...'  They'll stick her head on a pike in the square!" he wailed.

"Oh gods," Dorcan groaned, his wings fanning out with horror.  Just then, the front door was kicked down.

"Where is the Demon?!" an amplified voice demanded.  "We know it went in here!  Hand it over now, or face the consequences!"


The meeting had been called hastily, and that set everyone on edge.  Everyone except The Professor, who as usual seemed rather unflappable.

Lady Finch arrived last, pocketing her mobile with a look of annoyance that erupted into full-fledged anger when she took her place at the board-room table.

"I am sure you all know why we are here," she said icily.

"Um," someone said, and one of Lady Finch's wing-tentacles lashed out at him, a blur of red.  With surprising speed, The Professor intercepted it in mid-air and held the vicious thing firmly in one hand.
"That will do," he said quietly, and the wolf succubus looked contrite for a moment as the tentacle went limp and retracted back into the body of her leathery wings.  "Johan isn't responsible for any of this... mess."

"I'm sorry, my lord," she said after a moment, but the raccoon waved her quiet.

"For the benefit of those who have buried their heads in the sand," he said, glancing sharply at the feline incubus who had invoked the succubus' wrath, "Daryil has made yet another move against us.  His investment in Arnold's Cafe has done something which we could not possibly have forseen..."

"Porridge!" the she-wolf screamed as if it was the vilest insult she could conceive of.

"Specifically, he has somehow made his porridge into a luxury item that everyone wants, but is well within their budget," The Professor concluded.  "It's like a cult, and it's spread far beyond Grunmore district."

"That means an influx of spending," Johan said.  "He means to spark an economic revival in Grunmore," the feline added, earning a grudging look of respect from the lady.  "It's probably just the tip of an iceberg."

"We could open a rival store," someone suggested.  "Find an old bakery, set up proxies from the clan disguised as Beings.  We could put cocaine in the porridge - get people hooked, and we can drive up the price afterwards once Daryil's out of business.  And if it's discovered we could probably taint Daryil by reputation.  Say we have the proxies masquerade as Daryil members..."

Lady Finch was still seething.  "No," she said.  "It's personal now.  Daryil is doing this deliberately to drive us away from Grunmore, this dead spot on the map where no-one dares to go, where we could conduct the Project undisturbed."

"What do you propose?" The Professor asked.

"I want to hit Daryil hard, and fast.  First, we have to close his porridge shop now, one way or another.  But more than that, we have to strike at him.  We must kidnap his son!  We know where he is and we've discussed it endlessly, but nothing has actually been done.  I want that plan put into action immediately!"

"Any objections?" The Professor said, glancing around the room.  "Personally I have misgivings, but unless someone can point out a fatal flaw..."

The Professor abstained, and one or two voted against it, but there was a clear majority.

"Then let's do it," he said.


"Right," Dorcan said, and took off his shirt, revealing a muscular build that put Sydney's to shame.  "Wait here for seven seconds," he told the fox, "then follow.  I'll try not to hurt you, but you must struggle and fight back when I grab you.  Keep the rucksack on you all times, or it won't make the journey."  So saying, he turned and left the room.

"Which Demon do you want first?!" Dorcan bellowed, running down the stairs.  "Am I Demon enough for you?!"

Syd fingered the straps on his rucksack, sweating with terror at the sounds of violence coming from the living room, and then ran headlong down the stairs.

"What the hell's..." he faltered.  Dorcan was looking around the room and locked eyes with the fox, an expression of cruel delight on his features.  "You're coming with me!" he yelled and grabbed the fox, who yelled and struggled.  "Mum...!"  Dorcan held him firmly and destroyed a nearby armchair with a single kick.  Sydney caught one last look at his mother, nursing a fresh cut on her cheek.  Then everything disappeared.

Sydney found himself standing in another living room, with pink walls and a lush red carpet.  It was early evening, so they had clearly jumped a long way.
On one wall was an inked portrait of some bizarre mythos inside what appeared to be some kind of library.  He felt Dorcan's tight grip come loose, and stared at the Doberman with a boiling morass of conflicting emotions.  Anger won.

"You hit..." he snarled, but Dorcan waved him quiet.  Although he could shed no tears, the Doberman was obviously crying, and Syd's feelings did yet another loop-the-loop.  "I had to," Dorcan said.  "Didn't want to... tried not to hurt her too much... but it's still... it hurts."

"You wanted them to think it was a kidnap," Sydney said softly.

"Yes," Dorcan sobbed.  "It's what you said... if they thought she had made some kind of deal with me, they'd execute her.  I had to look like a Demon gone rogue.   And I'm sorry... I don't know if she can forgive me for that.  Or you, come to that.  But I'll... I'll send her some money... make sure she can afford a good retirement.  And when... when you next see her, I want you to tell her I'm sorry..."

"I will," the fox promised.  At that moment, the door opened and a seductively-dressed husky walked in - the first person Sydney had ever met who flaunted the fact that she was a succubus.  She looked a year or two older than Syd, were it not for the way she moved.  That, and there was something indefinable in her eyes, something that hinted darkly at the things she had seen and done in her long, long life.  The succubus halted, her headwings drooped slightly as she took in the scene and Dorcan's obvious misery.

"Welcome to the clan, Sydney," she said.  "I'm Julei.  We weren't expecting you so soon... I take it things didn't go so well?"

"Could have been better," Dorcan sighed.  "I hit my ex and trashed up her living room."

"Could have been worse," the succubus countered, and drew out a wing-tentacle for emphasis, banishing the little jackal-head at the end and coiling the tentacle into a loop about six inches across.  Sydney watched it with fascination.

"Once upon a time, a 'Cubi divorcing a Being usually meant divorcing the Being's head from their body," she continued and the tentacle made a constricting motion in the air, jumping and turning itself inside-out, edges sharp as razors.
Syd drew back suddenly in terror as he realised what it meant - if the tentacle had been around someone's neck, their head would have been popped off like a dandelion.  Julei glanced around at him, with a guilty expression.  "Oh shit, I'm so sorry..."

"D-did you actually do that to someone...?" Syd asked, with a certain amount of nausea.  Julei looked at the floor.  "A long time ago," she admitted.  "I used to be an assassin... I did that and far worse things besides."  The husky looked distressed for a moment and then her expression softened as if she'd just made up her mind about something.

"How old do you think I am...?" she asked him.  "You can be completely honest, I won't take offence."

"That's a trick question," the fox said.  "Creatures tend to have their age freeze in their twenties, and 'Cubi can shapeshift."

"They can, yes.  But I haven't," Julei said.  "I would not deceive my kin, not even to feed my own vanity.  What you're seeing now is how I truly look."

"Well, I don't know, but at a guess... Five hundred?  Three hundred?"

"More like three thousand," she said.  "But I could still pass for 23, and that's unusual.  Most 'Cubi who made it this far would start to show their age by now, and most Demons or Angels would be dead at half my age.
"Sydney, I don't look as young as I do because of some moisturising shampoo, whatever the adverts may claim their products can do.  I paid a high price for my continued youth, in blood and souls."

"Souls..." the young incubus looked horrified.

"Yes, I know," she sighed.  "It's horrible, but I felt it was best you heard it from me.  See, there was a time when 'Cubi were quite the savage race, and unfortunately our former clan never really got over that phase until they were destroyed."  The succubus closed her eyes and was quiet for a few moments.

"If it makes you feel any better, we broke away from them because we got sick of it... all the killings and soul sacrifices that our Queen demanded from us.  And yes, I have used my wings to collect the heads of more victims than I'd care to remember, and all those old skills are still down there, buried away...
"And sometimes they do still come in handy," she continued, "Like when we needed to take down one of the trees out back.  But I promise you, I haven't killed anyone except in self-defence for at least six centuries."  Sydney relaxed a bit and when she was satisfied that he'd be okay, the succubus turned back to the Doberman.

"Dorcan, you know I trust you," she said, "But all the same, we should send someone around to make sure Linda's okay.  Just in case you hit her harder than you realised."

"Be careful," Dorcan warned, "Because while we're on the subject of lopping off heads, Mundesburg does that to Creatures, now.  On sight."

"Then I'll ask Daryil," she decided.  "He likes you, Dorcan."

"They won't know what hit them," the Doberman grinned.

"Okay, Syd," the husky said, beckoning to the fox with a friendly expression.  "Let me show you your bedroom.  You've just had a series of nasty shocks and a lot to take in.  Sleep if you can, it will do you good.
"Tomorrow, when you've had a chance to absorb it all, I'll show you around the place.  And we can start talking about our clan and your new powers.  You have a lot to catch up on..."

Let the excrement hit the air circulatory machine, they're going ahead with the kidnapping. Poor Syd so much happening in so little time. It must be hard to keep up.   

Encore! Encore!
Also I'm curios how Daryl managed to make porridge a delicacy.. I mean it does taste great, but it's not exactly rare, or hard to make, but I guess with Daryl, everything is possible! 
Great chapter all around.

I knew I'd forgotten something last night.  I was away most of today so couldn't check my calendar.

Anyway, here's chapter 11...

Chapter 11

Sydney had been staring into the campfire as he told his tale, and now he looked up at Sheila for a reaction.  Instead, the Border gestured 'Shhh' and pointed at Richard, who was lying curled up on the ground.
"Awww," Syd whispered.  "You know, for a murderous psychopath, he looks kinda cute when he's asleep."

Using levitation spells to avoid disturbing him, they floated the sleeping jackal into the tent and carefully tucked him into a sleeping bag.  The fox paused, staring at Richard's shiny arm-length gloves and wondering whether he could quickly remove them, but Sheila tapped him on the shoulder and they headed back to the campfire.

"Clearly he's still more Being than he'd care to admit," she said.  "Like I say, I'd guess he's about 21.  Now I dunno about you, but I can get by on one night's sleep a week, and soon I won't even need that much.  My parents were a little frustrated before I went to Illiath's - I think they used to get up to all kinds of kinky stuff while I was off in the Land of Nod, and when I started staying up all night reading..."

"Yeah," Syd agreed.  "I thought it was insomnia at first, but I realised that it wasn't actually affecting me for days and days.  That and the symbol on my leg... I should have put it together more quickly."  He cast a glance back at the tent.  "I still think we could have snuck a look at his right hand."

"Better not," Sheila said.  "He was really uptight about it in the class.  I think the idea actually frightened him.  If he suddenly woke up, or guessed what you'd done... Trust me, you don't want to see a hissy-fit thrown by an angry, scared young incubus who thinks it's okay to kill people."

"You know, sometimes I wonder if he is an incubus..." Syd pondered.

"Whatever do you mean?" Sheila demanded, her head-wings fanning out slightly.

"Well, it's just... he hasn't really done much.  I haven't seen him cast any spells, or bring out his wing-tentacles or even seen his clan-mark.  And he seems to be completely incapable of reading emotions."

"Hmm.  What about Falkirk's class on element-resistance?" the succubus asked, considering the matter curiously.

"He wouldn't go beyond the fan-heaters.  We only have his word that he actually felt colder."

"True... but what do you think he is, if he's not 'Cubi?"

"Remember, my father is an android," Sydney pointed out.  "He can hide his wings magically, and I wouldn't have known if he hadn't told me, they're that good these days.  If Richard is some kind of plant..."

"He's probably just too young.  The powers don't come in immediately.  We'll see, though - if he is an android it's going to be pretty embarrassing for him in the shapeshifting class."

"True," Syd muttered.

"So what did happen when you met your ancestors?" Sheila said, changing the subject.  "What are they like?"

"My grandparents were pretty cool.  Big into motorbikes," he said.  "But I only met them for a week or so."

"Fair enough," the Border said.  "What about your great-grandparents?  Didn't you say they ruled the clan, or something?"

"Mordrith and Julei, yes," he replied, hoping that Sheila would forget all this by the time she was able to get onto Worldnet and look any of them up.  So far none of this had gone into her notebook.

"...But Mordrith was away on business for most of the time, we only met briefly before I went to school.  He didn't have time to formally induct me into the clan.  There is a ceremony that clan members go through when they are of age, but it takes a few days to do.  We're going to do it over the summer break, I think," he said.

"And Julei?"

"She kind of reminds me of you," Syd said, and the tips of his ears went pink.  "But kind of evil.  They were in hiding for a long time, and even now they have Daryil's protection, she tends to wear formal Being clothes with something more succubus-like underneath."  Sheila cackled with amusement at this for a few moments.

"'Cubi like tight clothing," she said.  "We tend to like shiny things, too.  Most of us develop an outfit that's easy to form from our fur and wings, in case we're caught short without our clothes for some reason and it works best if the outfit is form-fitting and skimpy.  That and well, it's always fun to look sexy."  She made her predatory face for a second and then, with a more normal expression, appraised Syd critically for a few moments.  "You know, if you still have those leathers from home, you should put them on.  I think it'd suit you well."

Shortly afterwards, Sheila drifted away to talk to one of the other girls, leaving Syd sitting bored around in front of their campfire.  For want of anything better to do, he made his way back to their tent, and following Richard's example, slept.


Daryil was at the Jayhawk Arctic Facility when the call came in.

"Ah, Nigel," he beamed.  "How's things going at Grunmore?  Actually, I need to pick your brains for a minute.  I've been looking into plans for expansion for the next phase of the project... we need to pick some other innocuous and cheap food produced in Grunmore and promote it as a lifestyle accessory.
"I'm thinking about that mush you get when you leave the cereal in the bowl for too long... we could even come up with a trademark name for it.  But we probably want something else, maybe interestingly-flavoured mashed potato...  Blancmange sandwiches... no, flapjack!  That'll do.
"See, my plan is to open up a chain of strip clubs, which serve the stuff as a staple.  That way, we can associate flapjack with sex and promote it as a forbidden delight..."

"Uh, Dar," Nigel said, and the fox noticed then that his head-wings were drooping.

"Nigel... is something wrong?" he asked slowly.

"It's Arnold.  He's been murdered."


Daryil stared at Nigel speechlessly for a few moments.  Then his face and headwings twisted into a visage of fury that Nigel had never seen on his Leader's face before, and it terrified him.

"I... we were too late," he bleated.  "Gibson heard the shot and by then..."

"A sniper?" the fox snapped.

"Yes, my lord."

"I'll be over right away.  I want full access to all CCTV footage.  I'll file a request for a new body for Arnold, but that's likely to take months.  In the meantime, find someone to take over Arnold's role, a Demon if you can, they're hard to kill and able to defend themselves.  Actually, make sure all the customer-facing folks are Demon or Angel, if you can - I don't want to lose any of my Children or anyone else for that matter.
"Have security boosted around the shop.  I will not let a bunch of crackheads with guns threaten my town."

"Yes, Dar.  We've already put in some defences, a slow-field against bullets, shutters on the windows and so forth."

"Very good.  And Nigel... I want to know who's behind this.  I want that sniper, and I will get whoever put them up to it."

"M-my Lord," the German Shepherd started.

"Yes, my child?"

"What... what will you do to them?"

"No-one kills my allies," Daryil said.  "I don't like killing, and I don't do this lightly, but I think this crime calls for... neuron spallation."

"Neutron spallation...?" the dog said, blankly.  "You mean... Like when you shoot a beam of protons at mercury...?  Oh, you mean to irradiate them..."

"Neuron spallation," Daryil corrected him.  "Brain cells.  It'll be messy, but unfortunately... well, you can't make an egg without breaking a few omlettes.  Sometimes you just have to make a strong example to your enemies."

"Sometimes, yes," Nigel said.  "But for the investigation... do you have any idea why someone would do this?"

"Probably to make an example to me," Daryil said.  "I would guess that the organised crime faction in Grunmore is starting to come out of the woodwork, wouldn't you say?"

"Makes sense," Nigel admitted.  "Though for all I know, Arnold owed money to someone."

Daryil signed off the wallscreen and created an avatar of himself to send to Grunmore.  The rest of him started to fill out the forms for a resurrection, and as he did so, he began to wonder what name he should use for the porridge franchise now their frontman was dead.


When Sydney had been younger he wanted to be an adventurer, like many other young men in towns or cities without a Creature patron.  And as with many other young men he gave up on the dream a few years later, and went off to the nearby city to study business or electronics or particle physics, but not before the basic training had given him a respectable physique.

Now he stood on the shore of a beach, not remembering quite how he got there nor really caring.  It was not important.  He found he was wearing the leather jeans and jacket from his home, and there were a number of coconuts rolling into the sea.  They had fallen off before they were ripe and he had to gather up as many as he could and stick them back on the tree...

The jackal laughed and the sky grew black.  It was filled with brightly glowing stars, and each star was a soul that the Lady had claimed...

He was in a broken city filled with shadows and in the centre of the square, he found a black-backed jackal, not much younger than he was, probably about 22.  He had leathery wings like Sydney's, but black and yellow fur - almost like Keaton's - and his eyes were full of fear.  He hadn't yet noticed Syd because of the Lady.
She stood before the youth, her back to Syd.  She was a golden jackal, dark grey leathery wings adorned her head, back and hips.  When she spoke, her voice was rage.

"Why do you keep returning?!" she thundered.  "Abomination... your kind is all I have fought to destroy... our clan, our race must be kept pure!"

"I... I can't help it!" the youth protested.  "I don't want to bother you... I don't know why I keep coming here... I don't want to keep coming here, believe me!"

"You will never come here again," she said, "This time I shall end your evil taint forever..."  Syd had drawn closer and the incubus had seen him.  Their eyes met for a second, and the Tri-wing suddenly realised there was another intruder behind her.  She spun around and upon seeing Syd, gave an incredible cry.  She spake without words, and her voice was thunder, and the firmament was cleft.

"Another half-breed!?!" she screamed, when able to speak.  "Who dare...  How...  Huh..."

The Lady vanished in mid-sentence, and the city began to fade away, merely a fleeting memory of a memory without her there to sustain it.  The younger 'Cubi remained, but his features became unstable, a distorted echo in Syd's memory.  For a moment he became Keaton Jyraneth and then Syd was alone again, staring at the ocean which was now seething with fallen coconuts.

First contact! Heh, Somehow I was expecting that. Still, I have to wonder is that keaton's kid? because if no, there is another remaining member of Jyraneth that the Ja'fell (or Keaton) is not aware of.

I'm actually finding how Daryil runs a pretty tight ship and doesn't allow people to walk all over him very enjoyable. The added amounts of eccentric personality make him a very likable character as well... I hope they Tapes includes Daryil's little trip to check on Syd's mom, that should be a interesting trip if Daryil's usual antics are anything to judge by.

Quote from: joshofspam on May 20, 2012, 12:50:15 AM
I hope they Tapes includes Daryil's little trip to check on Syd's mom, that should be a interesting trip if Daryil's usual antics are anything to judge by.

That was a month or so prior to present-day, but it is referred to a couple of times.

Chapter 12

Somewhere in her great fastness below the ruined city, the Lady twitched and sunk back into her long coma.  And far outside her reach, Sydney twitched slightly in time with her as the link was broken and his dreams took their natural course once more.

And then suddenly he awoke with a scream as someone shook him, his leathery wings flapping viciously in a panic reflex and sending the bedsheet soaring through the air to land across Richard.  To his surprise, Syd realised he was seeing Sheila and the now-stirring Richard even before he turned his head, and the feeling was most disconcerting.

"You scared the hell out of me," he said groggily, and his voice trailed away.  The Border collie looked rather scared, and she was staring at something just behind him.

Cautiously, Syd looked around and as he did so he was dimly aware that he could see his own head turning, and that was even more disturbing.  He found himself staring at a small jackal head on the end of a tentacle sprouting from his wings, its eyes glowing white and its mouth filled with happy rows of teeth.

"Woah," he said, and the tentacles folded back into his wings.  "Sorry if I startled you, but you did wake..."

"Tentacle-heads," Sheila whimpered.  "You've got tentacle-heads!  How can you have tentacle-heads?  You said you came from a minor clan!"

"Well," Syd said awkwardly, "Our Leader is still alive.  But she hasn't been seen for about eight centuries.  Even then, I don't think she ever left the city much.  And most of the clan died so I say that makes us a minor clan, tri-winged Leader or no..."

"Eight centuries..." Sheila was saying, and she backed away, trying unsuccessfully to stop herself from radiating horror.  "You're a Jyraneth."

She spoke the words quietly, her voice subdued as though Syd had just been sentenced to death.  The fox couldn't bring himself to look in her direction.

"Cool!" Richard said, eyes shining.  "And you can still sleep, right?  Have you tried communing with her?"

Sydney's wings fanned out.  "Gods, no!" he squawked.  "Why would I want to have a maniac like her in my head?!  She would want to destroy me if she even knew I existed!"  His expression became concerned as he remembered the dream.  "Though I think she might do now... I may have met her, or perhaps it was just a dream...  I need to ask Mordrith about this... does anyone have a phone?  Only the guards were allowed them in Mundesberg..."

Richard's elation faded and he frowned slightly.  "Bit squeamish for a Jyraneth, aren't you?  And... they never let their members get a Being pregnant..."

"Richard," the Border spat, "Shut up.  Let me handle this."  The white jackal shrugged and tucked himself back into bed.

Sydney stared at the succubus for three seconds and then ran out of the tent as fast as he could.


Nicholaus stumbled through the woods.  It was still a little dark and stopping to sleep had been a risk, and in some ways foolish, but he still needed it... he was not yet old enough to do without sleep entirely.  Or, he realised belatedly, food.  He hadn't eaten the whole day, and worse, on the run there were no emotions to feed on...

He saw some lights in the distance and headed towards those.  Flames, by the look, and an electric torch.  Probably travellers.  He could smell bacon frying... perhaps he could scrounge some food from them...

He ran into the figure when he least expected it.  He was a Doberman pinscher, and an incubus.  "Who are..." Nick started, but then his eyes fell on the Creature's clan mark, halfway down his arm.  It was the Kamei'Sin mark, and he knew from his reading that they were the deadliest enemies of the Jyraneth.

"P-please... don't kill me..." he whimpered, and fainted dead away.



Nick drifted gradually back into consciousness.  And that in itself was something... he hadn't expected to awake at all.  But then he realised that his wrists were bound.

They're gonna execute me, he realised, horrified.  They want me awake... they want me to know, they want me to feel it...

"How are you feeling?" the Doberman asked.  Nick stared at him, eyes wide with terror.  "Don't kill me..." he begged.  The Doberman looked rather taken aback.

"Should I...?" he asked.  Nick looked completely bewildered.

"You're Kamei'Sin..."

"I am, yeah.  Daniel Kamei'Sin.  Named after the great hero Ti'Fiona.  I should probably take you to the Professor..."

Nick glanced down at his wrists.  "No, no!" he said.  "Whatever you want, I don't know it... I've never met any of my Clan..."

One of Daniel's wings formed into a blade.  Nick screamed.

"Shit, I'm really not doing well here," Daniel said.  "I was just going to cut your binds.  If you promise not to turn violent, I mean..."

"I promise... just let me go..."

Daniel carefully sliced the rope with his wing, just as a particularly scruffy figure entered through the tent flap.

"Really, Daniel..." professor Falkirk said.  "What is going on in here?  Why did you tie him up?  I don't think he's into that."

"He's a Jyraneth," Daniel protested.  "The maniac clan!  I didn't think he'd be safe!"

"Well, it scared the piss out of him.  He thought you wanted to torture him to death!"

"He was acting a bit odd," Daniel admitted, "But look at him!  He's got to be Keaton's child, and you know what she's like!"

"Leave it to me," the professor sighed, and offered the starving jackal some rations as Daniel left the tent, in a tangible cloud of embarrassment.

"So," he said.  "May I ask who you are, and how you came to be in such an unhappy state?"

"I'm Nicholaus Worthing," the jackal said.  "I'm running away.  Who are you people?"

"Running away is not usually the best answer," Falkirk said.  "And you needn't worry, we're not some kind of Kamei'Sin encampment.  You were just unlucky to run into Daniel first.  We're from Iliath's 'Cubi school, or ISIS if you prefer it.  We're on a field trip, and I am of Daryil's clan.
"So... what seems to be your problem?  If it's trouble with your parents, they're probably really worried sick for you by now."

"Maybe they are," Nick said.  "I left them a note, and I didn't want to go, but I had to leave... I'm not safe."

"We might be able to arrange a safe-house for you if you need it, or a fair trial if you have some kind of problem with the law."

"I'm on the run from my Leader," Nick said shakily.  The poodle blinked rapidly.
"Well, that does make things a bit more complicated," he said.  "Though... not that I doubt your sincerity, but most people think Jyraneth died when her realm fell eight centuries ago..?"

"I met her in my dreams," Nick said.  "Three times, now!  She called me an abomination, she tried to kill me..."

"If she really wanted you to be dead, I imagine you would be by now," the professor said.  "However, this is rather disturbing news..."

"There's another one!" Daniel screamed, running back into the tent.  "They're after me!"


"Syd," Sheila barked sharply.  The fox just stood there, staring at the ground.

"Yes," he said, slowly.  "Biologically, I am a Jyraneth.  I'm not proud of it, but it's not something I can help, exactly.  I know we committed atrocities... if half of the stories I've heard are true..." he was starting to tear up.

"Sydney," the Border said, approaching him slowly, "Jyraneth Clan made enemies of my great-grandparents..."

"I told you, I can't help what my ancestors did before they rebelled against our psychotic leader!  But I can understand... why you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."

"Syd, listen.  I said that I was going to judge you by what you do, not what your forebears did."

"That worked out well, didn't it...?  Now you know what I am and..."

"I haven't changed my mind," she said.  Syd laid his head on her shoulder and wept.

"Sydney?" Professor Falkirk said.  "I realise this is a bad time, but... can you come with me, please?"

Sheila looked alarmed.  "Must he?"

"Yes, I think we will need his... expertise.  You may come too if you feel he needs moral support.  And yes, Syd, you can dress first."

Back in the tent, Sydney rummaged through his suitcase for the clothes he had in mind, the jacket and pants that he had brought.  "It's always fun to look sexy," he muttered to himself and put them on.

Somehow Richard managed to sneak into Daniel's tent along with Sheila, Sydney and the professor himself.  Nick looked up nervously at the crowd, and then froze.  Sydney froze as well, as soon as he laid eyes on Nick.

"He...  You were in my dream..." he babbled, and the professor looked particularly disturbed.

"Who else was in the dream, Sydney?"

"A jackal," the fox said nervously.  "Female.  Tri-winged... I think she was the Lady Jyraneth..."

"She was going to kill me," Nick said.  "She tried before, and then he came... And she freaked out..."

"She was trying to say something, but she vanished in mid-sentence, and then I was back on the beach," Sydney said, the words sounding stupid to his ears.

"Where were you before?" the professor asked.  "When you saw Her, I mean?  Where did the meeting take place?"

"In a ruined city," Sydney replied.  "I guess it was probably Harla'Keth, but I've never seen it so I don't really know.  Please, sir, how did you know about this?"

"I didn't.  But Daniel saw your clan mark and panicked, and I thought it would be handy if I had another J... another person of Nick's heritage to compare against."

"Who is he?  Why is he here?  He's not one of the student body..."

"Nick here is a young Jyraneth who never knew his 'Cubi parent.  He has been brought up as a Being, but he believes that Jyraneth is returning, and that she wants him dead as an abomination.  So he was running away, and fortunately for him, he ran straight into us.
"Sydney, if your mother truly is a Being, the Lady might want you dead too, as well as your relatives.  One would hope that she's aware her clan is decimated and she is in too fragile a position to afford any further pogroms, but she has a reputation for sheer insanity so we can't bank on that."

"Most of us are shielded from her," Sydney said.  "I would be too, but my clan father didn't have time to complete the ritual before I was sent here..."

"Yes, we shall have to get in touch with Mordrith," professor Falkirk said.  "Firstly, if he doesn't know about Jyraneth, he must be told.  But just as importantly, we need to know if he is willing to accept Nick here into his clan.  He, or more likely Daryil, may be able to provide protection for his parents."

Richard made a face as Daryil's name was mentioned, but the professor ignored him.  Sydney was puzzled, however and glanced up at Professor Falkirk as if to say "How do you know all this...?"

"I'm of Daryil's clan," he explained.  "I know about our alliance with the Ja'Fell clan.  And I know that you're a Ja'Fell member, I've seen your record with the school.  What I didn't know was that you weren't officially confirmed yet."

"Why all the fuss about Jyraneth, anyway?" Richard asked.  "How's she different from Daryil?  Both clans are run by an insane tri-wing who have their followers carry out their every will..."

"The difference is," the professor explained patiently, "That Daryil has a few basic, common-sense rules and leaves the rest up to his clan.  He stays on good terms with his children so that they want to obey him, and will willingly carry out any favours he wants done as a friend.  Jyraneth, on the other hand, ruled by fear and anyone who annoyed her in any way would be executed and their soul destroyed on charge of treason or heresy.  Any questions?"

But before anyone could answer, a sloth burst into the tent dressed in the typical garb of a professor from Illiath's.  This new professor had obviously been running and was out of breath.  "Professor Falkirk!" he gasped.

"This had better be important, Professor Shreve," the poodle said irritably.  "We have a tricky political problem thrust into our hands..."

"Forget all that," Shreve said.  "The school has fallen!"

OOOh cliffhanger  :U

Also I'm wondering how a school filled with cubi can fall.... If dragons are not on Furrae anymore, that is. Fae attack ?  :mowwink

Didn't the Fae leave as well for their own reasons?

Cubi are far from invincible. We can speculate all we want, but we won't know for sure what happened until Tape posts again. In any case, interesting dynamics between Syd and Sheila, and Nick and Dan!

Quote from: Gabi on June 02, 2012, 11:52:21 AM
Cubi are far from invincible. We can speculate all we want, but we won't know for sure what happened until Tape posts again. In any case, interesting dynamics between Syd and Sheila, and Nick and Dan!

Thanks.  The next one looks to coincide with Anthrocon, so I haven't decided what to do about that one yet.  I might post it early, in case I can't post from at the 'con itself.

Wow!

A school falls, That doesn't sound to good considering with the cubi history, the school would have probably at least some kind of defence.

Oh boy, things are picking up.

To be fair, this was the best time to do it - the first years are on a field trip and the later years haven't returned from break yet, so the only resistance was from a handful of staff.

Chapter 13

No-one spoke.  Professor Falkirk stared back at the sloth for some time.  Finally he came to a decision.  "Say that again," he said.

"Illiath's School for Incubi and Succubi... it has been attacked.  They overwhelmed our defences and we have lost control of the premises.  The school has been routed.  We're trying to warn the older students that their term won't be starting next week, but that's the most we can do!"

"Who would dare attack the school!?  Beings?  Adventurers?"  the professor demanded.

"'Cubi," Professor Shreve said.  "All in black, like the Jyraneth Raiders of old..."  The poodle's unkempt fur jumped - it was too heavy to remain standing on end and fell back into its original position.

"That's impossible," Sheila said.  "The Jyraneth are scattered.  Most of the known survivors have abandoned their mistress just as she abandoned them."

"I quite agree," Falkirk replied.  "I've met most of them.  It's very disturbing that this coincided with activity from Jyraneth, but I still feel it's more likely the work of another clan masquerading as them."

"That may be," Professor Shreve said, "But nonetheless, the school is closed and we are isolated!  Headmistress Illiath has gone into hiding and cannot be reached.  We're on our own, and if I'm not mistaken, that leaves you in charge.  What shall we do, deputy headmaster?"


Lady Finch sat in her usual position near the head of boardroom table.  The Professor was at the end as usual, along with a number of key aides opposite her, and a shadowed figure was talking to them all via a video link.

"What do you mean, 'not there'...?" She demanded.  "You had the descriptions for both of them... Rick was there just yesterday!  Where is he now?!"

"The school was mostly deserted, Lady!" the shadowy figure said.  "There were many staff present, but most of them have fled now.  Some of the student dormitories have possessions in them, however.  It's like they've abandoned the place!"

"Interrogate any captive staff and find out what has happened!  If anything has happened to them..." she made a threatening gesture and cut the link.

"How could this have happened?!" she wailed.  "I gave them strict instructions that he was not to be harmed and now... he's gone!  The school... they knew... They've taken him hostage!"

"I doubt he's in any danger," The Professor soothed.  "After all, we can trade his life for the lives of the staff now in our tender care.  All the same, it has caused a lot of problems.  Capturing Daryil's child will be considerably riskier - he will surely have been alerted to the attack by now."


Daryil stood in one of the expansive rooms of his Arctic palace, wearing only a pair of Wellington boots and some boxer shorts.  It should have been cold, and in some ways it was, but Daryil's body was really an avatar he had created for the purpose and not completely alive, so the fact it was -40 degrees didn't really bother him.

Any other building in the Arctic would have some form of heating to bring it to a temperature approaching habitable, but Daryil's palace was different, being made entirely from out-of-date vanilla ice-cream.  Hence it had to be kept at a low temperature to prevent it from melting.

Thock!

This room of the palace had an indoor golf course.  Nothing fancy, but it worked.  To make it more difficult he had begun experimenting with unusual objects, in this case, a cherry tomato.  Frozen solid, of course.  He'd tried it with fresh produce but it had got very messy, very quickly and walls made from ice-cream were particularly difficult to wash.  This way was better, because the ball would remain frozen indefinitely...

Daryil beamed as the tomato sunk into the hole.  But then his smile began to waver - he was being called back at base and it was sufficiently important that he needed full concentration.  He closed his eyes and vanished, leaving the golf club to clatter down upon the hard vanilla floor.

"We have a suspect," Nigel was saying.

"Captured, or just a name?"

"Captured," Nigel said happily, wagging his tail.  "One Keith Edmonton.  Being.  Do you wish to interrogate him?"

"Immediately," Daryil said, and part of him was in Grunmore.  His hair became white and flowing, his eyes ruby red.


"Do you know who I am?" Daryil asked casually.  The Being gave him a listless shrug.  "Lord Daryil," he said.

"Indeed.  Did it occur to you that killing someone under my protection might not be a very clever idea?  That it might shorten your lifespan considerably, and quite possibly endanger your very soul?"

"Yes, it did."

"And yet you went ahead with it anyway," Daryil said.  "I don't have many enemies, and that made it difficult to decide what I should do to you once you were caught.  I had thought of destroying your brain, making every cell rupture itself at once.  Or possibly something slower if you proved difficult... making them rupture in a pattern so you live long to experience your mind dying.
"However," he continued.  "That would be a bit wasteful.  And at the same time I have a number of Demons in my employ.  Unlike 'Cubi, Demons need to eat, and they need to eat a lot, regularly.  So I've decided it would be best if I fed you to them."  The Being looked at the floor and began to shiver.

"I will have your execution filmed and sent to your employer as proof," Daryil declared.  "Maybe send copies to your family as well."

"Enough!" the Being said.  "I'll talk.  Do what you want to me afterwards, just leave them out of this!"

"That's more like it," Daryil said, and produced a small orange lolly which he ate.  "First of all, I need to know who your employer is."

"How did you plan to send them the film if you didn't know?"  Keith asked.

"Oh, I'd have been able to work that out in the end.  But a confession would be much more useful.  And it would put me in a much better mood."


"Well, we're not entirely clear on what happened," detective inspector Lorraine said.  "As near as we can tell someone appeared in the middle of the Warholtz police building and embarked upon a systematic massacre of all within."

"Were there any survivors?" the husky asked, glancing up sharply.

"Only one, a 'Cubi."

"Not a Demon or an Angel?"

"No, sir.  There were two Demons on staff, but they did not survive the attack - the succubus only did by hiding.  She shapeshifted into a desk.  You can talk to her later if you like, but she's still a bit shell-shocked.  'Cubi being emotionally fragile and all."

"They also used plastic explosives to destroy the photocopier," the inspector added.

"To attract the attention of survivors, I guess.  So, I'd say the intruder was another Demon, who teleported in and killed them all.  Sounds like a disgruntled employee to me."

"No, sir... we've checked the cameras.  They're a two-channel setup, records video and magic simultaneously. We checked both views - the killer was not a Creature."

Joshua Oswald blinked owlishly.  "Then what the hell was it?"

"We were hoping you might be able to answer that, sir."

"Show me the security tapes," Josh decided.


"Well?"  Daryil asked, bouncing up and down in his seat as Nigel's call came in.

"It worked," the Alsatian said proudly.  "I went to the dead-drop to pick up Keith's money, disguised as him.  You know he was only paid 10 grand for that?"

"Yes," Daryil said.  "They were leaning on him and his family.  Not an enviable position to be in.  I can kind of sympathise with him, to be honest."

"You aren't thinking of letting him go?" Nigel asked, horrified.  "Not after what he's done!"

"No," Daryil said.  "But I think 10 years should be enough.  Suspended if we get Arnold back before sentencing.  In the meantime, see that he's comfortable and assuming he doesn't have allergies, give him some chocolate ice-cream for his good behaviour."

"Chocolate ice-cream," Nigel repeated as he wrote it down.

"With nuts," Daryil clarified.  "And a low-fat dairy topping.  What were we talking about again?"

"I got the money," the Alsatian said, regaining the flow.  "And as you suspected, someone was waiting to silence him when he picked it up.  I guess the idea was to drag him off and kill him somewhere out of sight, probably with their tentacles.  They weren't expecting another 'Cubi, certainly not one with tentacle-heads.  They fled after that."

"Were you able to identify them?" Daryil wanted to know.  "Which clan they were from?"

"I got some feathers," Nigel told him.  "I've sent one off to the 'Cubi Registry, see if they can identify the DNA."


"What I'd really like to know is why Xanathar didn't foresee this happening,"  Sheila said.  Professor Falkirk spun around to face her as if stung, and his headwings had fanned out slightly.

"How do you know about Xanathar...?" he demanded.  "Who told you?"

"I read a lot," Sheila said.  "It was in the prospectus."

"That busybody... I should have overruled her... knew we should never have listed our security defences in... look, nevermind.  The fact is, Xanathar can only see things the students and staff are likely to do.  It can't foresee external events, nor can it track us when we're outside the academy."

"Um, who is Xanathar?" Syd asked, confused.

"Xanathar is a thing, not a person.  It's a cluster of Jayhawk brains, 2048 nodes, all wired into the students and staff.  It's designed to be non-sentient while still retaining the intuitive and predictive functions normally associated with a higher consciousness.  It taps into your own consciousness through your student union card - or a similar device carried by staff and visitors - and is able to predict emotional states within the school to a high degree of accuracy."

"What for?" Richard asked.  "Why are you spying on us?  Is it because of Daryil?"

"No.  It's because ISIS doesn't have someone like Fa'Lina in the school who is able to know the future.  With a school filled with over-emotional 'Cubi and various rival clans, we need a way to detect fights and harrassment before they get serious, and that's what Xanathar does.  All this information is contained within Xanathar and while we can query it and have it generate reports, it is not self-aware and whatever it perceives is private, contained inside its memory banks and inaccessible to us.  We cannot read its thoughts because it's not sentient.
"The downside is that it requires a month or so to train itself to each student and it can only forecast events relating to people it knows about.  Predicting an invasion would be out of the question... unless one of the students was in on it," he added ominously.

"Now.  Nick, Sydney... We will have to pick this up later, in the meantime you are welcome to stay with the camp, Nick.  Everyone else, we must pack up immediately.  So far the attackers seem to have missed out on the camping trip, but they will find out about it eventually so we have to leave now, before that happens!"

So Rich is Daryl's son? that would make sense that he is reluctant to show his clan symbol which is (presumibly) on his hand. But it wouldn't make sense that he hates Daryl, unless he blames him for the fact that he is a Cubi? Hmm, I guess we will find out later *the suspense begins* .

I find the lack of Automated defense systems in schools disturbing. Remember folks, even if non-lethal, you should have some sort of defense mechanism if you have enemies.


If all else fails, Just teleport out and blow the building (with the unsuspecting invaders inside) up.  :explosion

Why do I have a feeling the Unknown entity is either:
A: A robot. (I presume Josh would be able to identify it)
or
B: A human / being
or
c: Someone who REALLY hates photocopiers

Wow. Even more is happening.

Though getting ice cream as a meal?

Daryil sure is generous Jailer.

For those who are curious, I got a couple of Epsilon Project characters drawn at AC:

http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k216/tapewolf/con/ac12/artwork/sheila_by_agentelrond.jpg

http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k216/tapewolf/con/ac12/artwork/falkirk_by_nyil.jpg

http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k216/tapewolf/con/ac12/artwork/richard_by_sunblink.jpg

...I might point out that this was the first time anyone has attempted Professor Falkirk and as such, I wasn't expecting it to be instantly perfect.  In the story, his entire body is kind of like his hair.  On the other hand, Nyil's design is much more amenable to a comic - having him entirely moplike would greviously upset both me and the line artist if an Epsilon comic ever happens.

Chapter 14

Wings hidden, Lady Finch made her way to No.32 and opened the front door with a small, silver key.  Ignoring the contents of the house completely, she drifted into the cellar and drew out her phone.  She fired up some programs, one of which appeared to be a popular remake of Tank War, and tapped out a particular sequence with her stylus.  She promptly lost the game, but as if to compensate, a wall slid open to reveal a shiny metal elevator.

The Professor greeted her when she alighted, his feathery wings visible for a change.  Somehow the raccoon had got into a habit of concealing them.  He offered the succubus a tablet device, the day's headlines displayed across the top in bold letters.  She glanced at it briefly.  Massacre at Warholtz Police Station was the top story of the hour.

"The test went well, then?" she said, walking down the plastered corridor and through an armoured steel door.

"Indeed.  Though we seem to have killed some Demons too," The Professor sighed.  "That wasn't really part of the plan..."

"A shame, but they're common enough and their culture looks down upon reprisals," Lady Finch replied.  "Where is she now?"

"In the board room.  Do you want to meet her?"

"Yes, but later.  But first I need to check my inbox."

"She can wait," The Professor said.  "If there's one thing she's got, it's patience."


The students from ISIS had made some headway through the forest, tents on backs.  Not completely sure where to go, they had wandered until they came to a small hamlet tucked into a gap in the trees.  Mindful of the fact that some of the younger students needed food, Professor Jevex found the local store and began to purchase what provisions she could find, Falkirk being a little too unconventional in his appearance to provide the right impression.

Most of the students had stayed put, emitting a wide spectrum of feelings from anxiety and fear through to excitement at the fact that the entire adventure was unplanned by the school. 


Not too far from the hamlet, Kevin made a mark on one of the trees with his paintbrush and then entered the details into the tablet device supplied by the Forestry Commission.  There was a faint crackle behind him and he had the horrible feeling that he was being watched.
He turned around slowly, but there was nothing there.  He glanced around nervously for a while until he was satisfied that whatever had made the sound was gone.  When he turned around, there was a white jackal in front of him.

"Why, hello there little soul..." the jackal said, fanning out his wings and advancing with a hungry expression on his features.  The feline made a sort of meeping noise and began to back away slowly.  Richard's wings wavered and became tentacles.  The Being stepped further back and banged his head against a tree-trunk.

"Now you're mine," the jackal purred, and he could almost taste the delicious nectar of his victim's soul.  From out of nowhere a shape slammed into the side of his body and he fell.

"RICHARD!" Sheila yelled and the jackal rolled over, glancing up at the Border collie towering over him, her face a mask of fury.
"Stop doing that!" she shouted as he began to pick himself up. 

Turning to Kevin, she bowed apologetically.  "You must forgive him," she said.  "He's only young, and he'll learn to control it one day.  After we've beaten all the psycho out of him," she added as an afterthought.

"You know what I should do now?" she snarled, as Richard walked in front of her with his tail between his legs, "I should tell Professor Falkirk."  The jackal stopped so quickly that he tripped and hastily recovered, spinning around.  "You... you wouldn't..!" he gurgled.

"Not this time," the border said, "But unless you want to spend the rest of this trip with a chaperone, I strongly suggest you buck up your ideas."

"Alright, alright," Richard sighed.  "I'll try..."

"What were you thinking...?  You haven't even been taught how to trap souls."

"It was practice, okay?  Dad told me the basic principle, I was trying to see if I could work it out from there."

"Can you imagine what the others would do if you came back with a corpse!?  If you're lucky they'd simply turn you over to the police!  And if they found out you were trying to steal his very soul..."

"Did you... oh."  Sydney looked taken aback as he came across the others.  "His soul?!  That's horrible!"

"Don't tell anyone," Richard begged.

Syd glanced at Sheila, whose expression was particularly firm and resolute.  He glanced back to Richard.  "Don't do it again," he said.


Joshua was once again going through the CCTV footage of the massacre.  It made uncomfortable viewing, but he had long ago lost the ability to become sick and so he was able to just sit through it.

The killer had moved fast, stabbing their victims with what appeared to be some kind of extruded blade.  The lack of magic involved led him to suspect that he was seeing some kind of android, but still... androids were just dead people, and people - alive or otherwise - tended not to be this vicious.  Or was it a Demon's soul inside the thing...?

Once the deed was done, the killer had vanished in a peculiar fashion, the like of which he'd never seen before.  Going through it frame by frame didn't help much either, but it did reveal that the killer appeared to be a mare Being, and then she had left by somehow folding up into nothing.

He was checking the external cameras to see if anything interesting or significant had taken place immediately before or after the event.  What he saw may not have been significant, but it was certainly interesting.

It can't be, he thought, his jaw dropping.


"My Lord," the jackal said, bowing before Daryil, or as closely as he could manage on the secure video link.  His eyes were red and his wings were grey, and he wore a black leather collar about his neck.

"Well, well," his Leader returned.  "Calahan!  It's been... what, twenty-four years?"

"Yeah, my Lord.  I know my report's kinda overdue, and I'm sorry 'bout that, but it wasn't easy to arrange.  I couldn't make this call with her around, had to wait until she was away."

"Your wife," Daryil said.  "Happily married, then?"

"It's been rocky at times," the jackal said.  "Even now, with our kid... well, we love each other, but I don't think she trusts me completely.  I know the others don't.  And..."

"And...?"  Daryil prompted, after a pause.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned..." the jackal said.

"You had to break the Tenets, didn't you?"  Daryil said softly.

"Yeah, my Lord.  I... it was hard."

"I'm glad it was.  But it helped you attain your position," the tri-wing said.  "It helped convince them you're loyal, always remember that.  I don't as a rule believe that the end justifies the means, but at the same time, sometimes we have to bend the rules a bit for the greater good.  Just make sure it doesn't become a habit, that's all I ask.
"And remember that my Tenets are mostly aimed at those who would kill or worse for pleasure... this mission had a purpose behind it.  I don't like it, but I forgive you for that.  I can't blame you for something that I sent you into myself, can I?"

"I guess not.  But it... taking someone's soul... even though I let it go... was this really worth it?"

Daryil sighed and his headwings drooped.  "I don't know.  But it was always a risk when going undercover with folks of this ilk.  You knew it, I knew it.  And remember, I put you up to this."

"Yes, my Lord," the jackal said and straightened up with a nervous expression.  "And now, with respect, I don't have long, and there's a lot to cover.  I don't have the full picture, they don't trust me enough, and if they find out I've made this call, it will all be over.  Though in a way I'd welcome that, since I'd likely pay for my crimes..."

"Then let's make it quick," Daryil said.  "I don't want you to lose your life in my service.  See, there are many sad things in this world, but dead bishonen is one of the saddest.  Just tell me what you've found."


"What I don't get," Richard was saying, "Is why everyone picks on me, when Syd here's a Jyraneth!"

"Don't say it!" Syd squeaked.  Sheila looked at the jackal with venom and her hands shook slightly as if she was trying really hard not to throttle him.  Her back wings had become unstable and threatened to become tentacles for a few moments.

"He is not a Jyraneth," she said at last.  "His clan broke away because they didn't like the way things were going."

"But his great-grandparents were," Richard said.  "What did they do anyway, Syd?"

"If I tell you," Sydney said, "You must promise not to repeat it to Daniel, or Nick.  It would upset them greatly.  Also, you'll owe me a favour."

"A favor?" Richard looked unsettled.  "What kinda favor?"

"Stop picking on Beings while you're part of the school." Syd said pointedly.

"Okay, okay," Richard said, throwing his gloved hands in the air.  "I promise.  Now tell me..."

"Okay, I don't know them that well," Sydney admitted, "But my great-grandparents were pretty evil."

"How so?"

"Mordrith was one of Jyraneth's Raiders.  He was part of the initial strike team.  He liked the surprise and shock of his victims as he stabbed them or cut their throats.  His wife was a spy... she would infiltrate a town in the weeks running up to the invasion and use her talents as a seductress to extract information from her victims, and usually their souls as well.  Sometimes she would bring souls home for Mordrith to eat too."

"Awesome!  How did they meet?"

"Well, Mordrith had a crush on Julei for a while.  One one mission, Julei slipped up and was caught - she would have been executed but when he found out what had happened, Mordrith sneaked in and rescued her, slaying a number of guards in the process."

"Caught?  By Beings?" Richard sounded scandalised.  "How'd she let that happen?"

"It's not that simple.  But it does happen - 'Cubi are taken down by Beings... it's not uncommon.  Remember, my father was hanged," Sydney told him solemnly.  The other incubus fell silent.  "They had enchantments that rendered him helpless, and our clan has rules against killing.  Not that they gave him much opportunity to defend himself."

Richard stayed very quiet and Syd felt he had a fairly shrewd idea of what was going through the jackal's head... it was slowly starting to dawn on him that he had avoided the same fate only by sheer luck and not through the innate superiority of the 'Cubi race.

"Uh," the fox continued, changing the subject.  "You wanted to know how Julei was caught?  It was nothing to do with her skill, really - just bad luck.  From what I heard, her target was actually a Demon in disguise.  Fed her all kinds of fairy-tales and then stunned her when she tried to remove his soul."

"And your Dad...?" Richard said.  "I remember you saying that you first met him a couple months ago.  And that was after he was killed."

"Dad survived, after a fashion," Sydney continued.  "I guess you slept through that bit, right?  You may have heard of Niall... he tries to save 'Cubi who are sentenced to death unjustly.  He arrived too late and had to transfer Dad's soul into a robotic body, so he's alive but he's no longer strictly a 'Cubi."

"Yeah, I know about Niall," Richard said slowly.  "He's one of those Daryil weirdos.  Came to visit me in my cell, the night before I was to be taken to the gallows.  We had a brief discussion of my crimes and then he left.  I think he was crying."

"You seem to have quite a problem with Daryil," Sheila said acidly.

"Well, yeah," Richard said.  "Daryil's clan was the clan we broke off of."

I think I'm getting an idea of why Richard has his superiority complex on beings and such.

Weird point to end the chapter, considering that what Richard just revealed was hinted at many times and was therefore not so surprising at this point.

Other than that, it was quite an interesting chapter. I really like Sheila and how she's trying to bring harmony to the group... not an easy task at all.

The concept of playing a videogame to open a lock was funny, as was Calahan's description of 24 years as 'kinda overdue', and Daryil saying that dead bishonen was one of the saddest things in the world.

As for Joshua's analysis of the footage... I think that if anything can be that vicious, it has to be a person of some sort. Soulless machines just follow a program and therefore can't be vicious, and wild animals can kill but will not cause a gruesome massacre, not even if they're rabid. It requires a very complex mind to be that sick.

I have to agree with Gabi about the attacking android or thing would have to be a person of some kind and for the same reasons she's thinking. But taking into account the A.I.'s of Jakob's and how responsive they can be, I have to wonder if theirs more to it then just being a person in a android body.

After all, if it's a part of the project these cubi are working on, then what makes it different enough from Jakob's own androids that it would need an entire project to be made for it?

Though it was a big surprise about Richard. That might also explain the Brain Museum a little more. That's an interesting way for the Daryil's clan craziness to work it's way through. :erk

Dibs on human intruder! :D (I really want The "steal tech from humans to backfire" IT would also add another factor to the politcal chain of Furrae

Quote from: joshofspam on July 01, 2012, 09:26:20 PM
After all, if it's a part of the project these cubi are working on, then what makes it different enough from Jakob's own androids that it would need an entire project to be made for it?

Fa'Rana's like the mad scientist clan, they have quite a few projects.

This has been edited slightly since the original text refers to something which has not yet happened in Project Future ;-)
Also, thanks to Chaosmage for some ideas that helped shape Sonia.


Chapter 15

"Clan Fa'Rana broke away from Daryil's clan?!"  Sheila seemed horrified... appalled, even.  Sydney's wings had flared out in surprise.

"Well, yeah," Richard said.  "See, Daryil Clan went through several stages.  First, we were allowed to do whatever we wanted.  Then he published the Book of Tenets, in real Being leather.  It explained how to-"

"Thank you," Sheila said.  "There was a copy in the Little Rare Book Room at Fairwater University.  It was horrible."

"It was great," Richard said, eyes shining.  "Our clan reprinted it.  You wouldn't think Daryil would know so much about torture and murder!  There's a section on tanning the hides of Beings while they're still alive, preservation of heads for display, and how he single-handedly killed the entire Order of Saint Trelenar when they excommunicated him..."

"Daryil had a Being parent," Sydney said.  Both Sheila and Richard looked scandalised.

"He went through a phase where he was trying to deny his Being parentage and youth," Syd said.  "It was a very bloody and nasty time.  But eventually he grew out of it.
"The preface to the Third Edition mentioned how Sorghum's clan was wiped out in a purge by Beings after they set fire to an orphanage.  Daryil dropped out of sight for a century or two after that, afraid he'd lose his clan too, but he'd known for a long time that what they were doing wasn't sustainable.  It was like a petty adolescent tantrum scaled up into genocidal proportions."

"Daryil had his clan scatter for safety," Syd continued.  "And when they reconvened... he realised he didn't want to be evil anymore."

Sheila looked at him approvingly.  Richard looked even more scandalised.

"How do you know this?!" he demanded.

"Mordrith has the complete set of the Tenets," Syd told him.  "My clan, my true clan, are under Daryil's protection, and Mordrith has spoken to him at length on a number of occasions.  Obviously we have to understand our allies' way of life and history..."  Richard sniffed at this.

"Daryil did an about turn," the jackal spat, as if the Tri-wing had personally betrayed him.  "The younger members of his clan were happy to live a less exciting life."

"A longer and less brutal life," Sheila muttered.  Richard glanced darkly at her, but carried on regardless.  "The older ones came around to it after a time.  But the rest of us were left in the lurch, so we broke off to form Fa'Rana clan, just how Daryil broke his clan away from whoever they were before."

"So doesn't that mean you're actually a Daryil clan member?"  Syd asked.  Richard fluffed out and refused to speak to either of them until Sheila and Syd had each delivered a four-minute long apology on the others' behalf.


Joshua leaned back heavily with a very realistic sigh and closed his eyes.  Why now? he thought.  Of all the times this could have happened...

Rubbing his eyes, the husky pulled himself together and locking his office door, made a secure call to Jayhawk Cybernetics... not their main switchboard, but a private number that Jakob had given him when they parted ways.

The screen burst into life showing a grey fox in a lab coat.  It had not been buttoned at the front, and flapped loosely to reveal glimpses of an exposed chest and some expensive leather pants.  His wings fluffed out for a moment in surprise.

"Oh, it's you!" he exclaimed.  "Hi Josh, what can I do for you?"

"Niall?" he replied.  "I was after Jakob actually, but you could probably help...  Um... if you don't mind me asking, which are you?"

"Niall," the fox returned immediately.  "Daryil asked my... son to keep watch at Mundesberg."

"That's where Dorcan was killed, isn't it?"

"Yeah, there's been a bit of trouble there.  Daryil went to shake things up a bit a few months back, Godzilla-style.  I think they've stopped picking on Creatures for now, but he wanted someone on-site for a while to make sure - someone who could give them a headache if things went nasty."

"I'm a little... concerned about something," Josh told him.  "I'd like to know if you've resurrected someone recently."

"Hmm.  Anyone in particular?" Niall enquired.  "The Commission has put a strict cap on the numbers, so it's a fairly short list."

"Okay.  I'm interested in one Haley Stuart.  Being, Malamute."  He rattled off her national identity number, and Niall ran a database search.

"No-one by that name, I'm afraid.  Not within the last 25 years, which is as far back as our records go."

"Starting with me, right?"

"Yeah, and Azrael as number two."

"Right.  But getting back to the point, you're absolutely sure about Haley?"

"I searched for 'St*' in case she was listed under Stewart or Steward.  Now, it's possible she may have used an alternate name.  Or she may have been raised by one of our competitors, of course.  Whenabouts did she die?"

"2135 FSC," Josh said pointedly.  "Before I did, and way, way outside the usual time limit.  If she was resurrected, it would have to have been a... special job.  Raised from the afterworld by their soul alone."

Niall blinked rapidly.   "We're not allowed to do that anymore.  If Daryil has... well, I'd have to ask him but frankly, I doubt it.  Are you sure this person is really dead?  Come to that, are you sure they're actually alive again?"

"I..." Josh hesitated.  "I was the one who found her body," he said quietly.  Niall stared and his head-wings drooped... he could think of nothing to say.

"Okay," the husky said.  "There is one more thing... I mean it might be... well, it might be me."

Niall looked flustered and confused.  "You...?  I don't under- Oh.  You want a check-up?  Yeah, we can do that if you really want, but I wouldn't worry about it, honestly.
"Even a healthy mind will play tricks from time to time.  You might just have run into someone who looks a lot like her.  Or, heck, she might be a succubus who read your mind."

"I'm not convinced," Josh said.  "This was some film, just some random CCTV footage of her walking down a street.  What I mean is... I wasn't actually there, so it couldn't be a succubus trick.  And I still have Haley's photo in my wallet.  I know what she looks like."

"Could it have been a more conventional resurrection?  An undead?"

"I can't believe that," the husky said.  "If she was alive, surely she would have let me know..."


"Well, what do you think?" The Professor asked, a hint of pride in his voice.

Lady Finch stared at the blond mare impassively.  The horse's eyes glanced at her for a moment, as if expecting some command, but they quickly reverted to her dead, expressionless stare.  It was eerie.

"What's your name?" the succubus asked.

"Sonia," the horse replied immediately.

"What is your quest?" Lady Finch continued.

"To obey," the horse replied.

"What is your favourite colour?"

"I do not have one," she said simply.

"Did you enjoy your outing the other day, my dear?"  The Professor asked.

"I carried out my instructions fully," the horse said after a brief pause.

"Yes, but did you enjoy it?"

"I do not know."

"Very good, Sonia," The Professor said.  He held out both hands and after a brief incantation, a large cantaloupe appeared between them.  He placed it on the table.

"Destroy that," the raccoon incubus commanded, "as if it was the head of an enemy."

Sonia moved into action faster than most Demons or Angels could react.  A split second later, the board room table was covered in seeds and orange flesh.

"Excellent.  Now, fetch a bucket and cleaning implements.  Clean the remains of the melon off the board room desk," he instructed and the horse got up and began to head towards the door.

"No, wait..." Lady Finch called out.  Sonia paused, glancing at The Professor for confirmation.  He nodded and the horse relaxed into a standing position.  Lady Finch approached her, examining the android in minute detail, staring into her eyes.  The focussing tracked the succubus autonomously but her expression did not waver, and seeing no cues from the Lady's body language her blue eyes defaulted to staring ahead, clear and soulless.

"Very well, you may proceed with your task," the succubus said, and Sonia left the room.

"Very impressive," Lady Finch said.  "And no sentience to her at all.  Even a 'Cubi will not be able to anticipate her actions."

"Indeed.  I have given the order to proceed with Gamma Project."

"Hmm," she said.  "You mean mass-production?  Already?"

"She works well enough for me.  I cannot foresee any flaws which we cannot correct with a firmware update or worst case, rebalancing her neural net.  Remember, most of the physical design is based on old patents from Jayhawk and Jycorp.  The bulk of her is proven technology."

"With an army of these, do we still need to continue with Epsilon?"

"Oh, I think we do," The Professor said.  "A legion of K-1300s will get us a long way, but Daryil and his allies could put a stop to it fairly sharpish.  Once Epsilon is go, we'll be in a completely different league.  But until then, we'll need Gamma Project, and more.
"Mass-production of Sonia isn't going to happen overnight, the K-1300 has a lot of expensive parts as a bottleneck, some of which we'll actually have to purchase from Jayhawk, at least for the initial run.
"To make things worse, Grunmore doesn't yet have the 6-phase power source we'd need to run a nano-forge so they have to be assembled conventionally for the time being.  We have a couple more prototypes and more are on the way, but it'll be at least three weeks before they really start rolling off the line, probably more.  And in the meantime, we still need leverage over Daryil, so we can't let up on that project, either."

"We'll have his son soon," Lady Finch promised, but inwardly she was flinching.  Oh, I hope this doesn't all end in tears...

"Fingers crossed," The Professor replied, sensing her emotions.

Lady Finch paused as she left the board room.  The android, now approaching with a mop and bucket, had slowed down and was watching her.  Sonia didn't do this out of curiosity or self-will, but in case she was to be given new instructions.  Her AI was extremely sophisticated for something not based on existing brain patterns, but she still needed visual cues to make sure that she was being addressed - she wasn't smart enough to do it from context alone.  As The Professor had pointed out earlier, the most reliable way to address Sonia was to prefix the instruction with her name.

Lady Finch opened the door for the mare.  A few seconds later her wings fanned out at the sound of splintering wood and cries of dismay from The Professor.

I guess there's still some bugs to work out, she thought as she headed to her office.


Jakob tried to call Daryil, but the fox's phone was turned off.  Oh yeah, he'll be with Simeon tonight, he thought, and spent a few guilty moments picturing the scene.  I wonder if Dax is busy tonight?  But he shook himself... there was work to be done first.

The wolf looked in the mirror... he was fairly typical for an incubus.  He had a lithe and trim frame, but not too muscular and it gave a slightly effeminate look to him which was not helped by the shoulder-length hair.  He was wearing some comfortable leather leggings and that was basically it.  The look did kind of suit him, but it certainly wasn't right for a lecturer, so he chose a suitably businesslike suit, and then put on one of his old black trench-coats.

Even that was still a little unusual, but aside from the freshman students the term didn't properly start for another week anyway, so it didn't exactly matter.  This was just preparation - all he had to do now was touch base with the staff, explore the campus a bit so he knew where he had to go, and do a brief rehearsal so he would have everything down pat when the lecture actually took place.

Transport was a bit of a problem, since he'd never actually been to the school before.  That meant he couldn't teleport, and he'd left things a bit too late to go by conventional means.  So reluctantly, Jakob called out for his son's warp-aci.  At least I'll be able to make the return trip myself, he thought.

"Kirian," he said, "Please take me to Illiath's School for Incubi and Succubi."

"Danger meatbag, Danger!" Heh a automaton eh? Good grief EMP seems to be the way to go for Daryl. Or a computer virus. So much simpler.

All end in tears?

What could Fa'Rana clan be up too and why are they so concerned about Daryil's proximity to any of their projects? Isn't also strange their making a fully autonomous robot fighting force? I almost sort of seeing this as aping Jayhawk's beginnings.

It must really be one of humdinger of a plan if they can't even have a tri-wing start any kind of urban renewal in the area where crime was rampant before...

Quote from: joshofspam on July 14, 2012, 11:59:35 AM
It must really be one of humdinger of a plan if they can't even have a tri-wing start any kind of urban renewal in the area where crime was rampant before...

I think it's more along the lines of "dang, we had a lot of stuff there because it would avoid attention" conjointly with "we need to not gain the attention of any tri-wings, because they'll stop us. Particularly the one we split off from."

I'm liable to be away Saturday and Friday evening, so I'm going to update early.  Thanks to Sofox for proofing an some suggestions in this chapter.


Chapter 16

"So, Richard," Sydney said, "I'm curious.  What's on your right hand?"

"My clan mark," the jackal said.  "But I can't show you.  It's taboo."

"Some clan rule?" Sheila asked casually.  He's lying, she thought, but it's clearly a touchy subject.  I'll leave it for now.

It was starting to get dark when they got back to camp, and Professor Shreve kept looking at the treeline.  He seemed particularly distressed.

"Where have you three been?"  Professor Falkirk demanded.  He looked a little strained.

"Richard wandered off," Sheila told him.  "We went to find him before he could do too much damage."  Richard rolled his eyes at this.

"I sympathise, but you should still have let me know first," the poodle said.  "We're in a difficult situation, and I want us all to stay together."

"Yes, sir," they replied.

"Professor," Sheila asked, as they started to trudge off into the deeper woods, "Are we really stranded here?  I mean, can't we teleport back?"

"Not easily," he said.  "Where would we go, anyway?  We can't return to the school, they'll be waiting there to mop up any stragglers!"

"Surely your Leader has some kind of safe-house we could lie low until things settle down?"

"Perhaps, but I'm not sure I can get in touch with him.  Most of Daryil's outposts are protected against intruders teleporting in, and I don't have the right pass.  To be certain, neither Professor Shreve or I would be able to teleport such a large body of students.  The effort would be intolerable."

"What about a warp-aci?"  Richard asked.

"The camp contains only first-years," the poodle said.  "We don't teach that kind of summoning until year 15, and none of the staff have one," he sighed.  "I always thought they were for girls, myself.  I see now that may have been a mistake, but it will take too long to summon one now.  We have to keep moving."

"Can't you phone Daryil?" Sydney asked, causing Richard to flinch again.

"We're halfway into the trip," he said sadly.  "Once upon a time you could get a phone that would last three whole weeks, but nowadays, now they all have to be able to play Angry Drakes, you're lucky if you get a whole day out of them, let alone three."

"What about that hamlet?" Mike asked.  "Can't we go back and ask to use their phones?"

"Well, it's a funny thing, actually," the Professor said.  "You see, Professor Jevex had just finished purchasing the supplies we needed, when some forester rushed in saying that a jackal succubus with red and orange wings had just tried to eat his soul.  And the funny thing is, after that, the locals became strangely uncooperative."

"What do you mean, 'succubus'?!"  Richard blurted.

"Oh, I'm just going by what I was told," the poodle said airily.  "I'm glad it couldn't possibly have been you, Richard, otherwise you'd likely be facing a stiff prison sentence.  Or worse."

Richard radiated a spike of fear for a few moments, but the professor said nothing more.


Jakob's headwings began to fan out slowly as he wandered down the corridor.  Not good, he thought for the umpteenth time.

Earlier he had wondered briefly if he'd got the time-zone confused again, but even if he had, Illiath's School for Incubi and Succubi was intended for students who did not need to sleep much, if at all.  Quite apart from the fact that the reception had been abandoned, there should have been activities going on at every hour of the day, classes or recreational.  It was never, ever closed.

Even during the solstice breaks there was some activity from students who had chosen to remain behind, professors preparing for the next term and so on - the fact that the building was fully illuminated but apparently devoid of people meant that something had gone very, very wrong.  Jakob half expected to see bodies next.

Why did I send Kirian away so soon? he thought, mentally slapping himself.

Then again, Fa'Lina had done something similar to Jakob when he was young - at Daryil's request, no doubt.  However, in this instance Jakob was a guest lecturer and the academy had no business nor reason to screw with his head. Whatever had happened, it had to be real and not some bizarre hoax.

The wolf incubus opened his mind and began to run down the corridors, scanning for minds and trying to cover as much ground as he could.  And then... yes!  There was someone there.  He slowed to a brisk walking pace, turned a corner and made his way to the classroom where the mind was.

"Hello?"  Jakob called out as he opened the door, "Is everything alright?  What's happened?  Where is everyone?"

Something hit the side of his head and he slumped to the ground.


Back in his office, Joshua fired up the terminal and hesitated as he took out his wallet.  If he'd been alive there would be a lump in his throat as he removed Haley's photograph and put it into the scanner.  As it did its work, he found himself wondering what life would be like if she had lived.

For one, I wouldn't be sitting here in with my name on the door of Ashford's office, he thought.  Losing his fiancee just a month from the wedding... it had destroyed him, and the only thing which had kept him sane was blocking everything else out and putting every waking moment into his work.  Perhaps he could find the killer someday and repay them in kind...  But there was more to it that that.  Part it was a dare... more and more dangerous missions, goading the world into killing him so that he could be with his lover once more.

But even when he had found death, bleeding out in the perimeter of Jakob's Arctic base, it hadn't reunited them... he'd been given not one, but two more chances at life.  Strange that he hadn't thought of her much then, but he knew that Jakob had used some of his mental powers to lessen the shock of transition.  Perhaps he had lessened his grieving for his lost love at the same time, since Josh had never really thought to ask if they could bring her back.

Joshua looked up, startled by a small noise as the scanner timed out and went back into standby.  He put photo back into his wallet, and glanced at his hand and wrist.  Well, for one thing, if I hadn't done the Arctic mission, I'd be old and grey by now, he thought.  Well, lighter grey than I am now, at least.

With a shrug, the husky punched in the command and sat back, waiting.  It would take a long time to run a facial recognition query like this.  With all the upheaval in the decades following the Destania Incident and the loss of several races from the world of Furrae... with all the minor wars that had cropped up in the aftermath, not much technological progess had occurred.

It it entirely possible that the Beings' technical civilisation would have collapsed back to the medieval were it not for the fact that Creatures had got involved.  Jayhawk and numerous other Creature-run firms had kept industries supplied with vital components during the chaos, providing a framework to rebuild from and preserving as much know-how as they could in their corporate archives.

But while Angels and 'Cubi had kept the flame alive, it had also given the impression that only Creatures could design electronics, an attitude that had only begun to change within the last 30-40 years.  The bitter truth was that this was almost backwards - Beings were far better at electronics because they weren't as magical.

Magic interfered with technology, semiconductors with a feature size smaller than about 100nm tended to break down or flip bits in the presence of Creatures and it was also the reason they tended to record things on technologies that would otherwise have been rendered obsolete nearly two centuries ago.

As a result, the mainframe that Josh queried was not significantly faster than ones available at the time of the Destania Incident, and that meant he'd have to wait, and wait, and wait.

As he waited, an icy feeling of horror welled up inside him.  She looks the same age as she did when she was 22, he thought.  How can that be?


When the staff were satisfied that they were far enough away from their original campsite to avoid immediate detection, Professor Falkirk called a halt and they pitched some of their tents.

"Those who need to sleep may do so," he announced to the group.  "Those who don't need to sleep should rest themselves anyway as we'll need to cover more ground in the morning.  Anyone who needs to eat can do so as well."

"Sir," Sheila asked, "Where are we actually going?"

"I'll cover that in a bit," the poodle said.  "But first, everyone listen up!
"I must warn you all that we can't risk being found, so unfortunately we must not be lighting any fires.  Lights outside the tents are likewise prohibited.  Lights inside the tents must be kept low to avoid them being seen.  Any questions?"

There was a whimpering sound from nearby as torches and lighting spells were promptly extinguished.  Syd glanced over and realised it was Professor Shreve.

"Come now, sir," Richard said, "You're an adult incubus.  You can't be afraid of the dark, surely...?"

"I... I've never been in the dark before," the sloth said.

"With respect, Professor, you're shitting me."

"It's true!  I haven't slept for nearly 800 years.  It was always light inside the Academy because it's open 24 hours, and ISIS is the same!"

"What about when you were young?" Professor Falkirk asked sympathetically.  "You slept then, surely?  What about winter?"

"We lived near the equator.  Went to bed as soon as it was getting dark."

"Could we hypnotise him?" Syd asked.

"Oh, oh!  I can stun him," Richard said eagerly.  "He'll be out of it for eight hours, at least..!"

"Quiet," Sheila said.  "What about just closing your eyes?" she asked the professor.

"Oh, that's different," the sloth said.

"Okay then," the succubus said.  "Try closing your eyes right now."  The sloth did.  Sheila took out a tie from her pocket and gently wrapped it around the professor's head, blindfolding him.

"Now we stun him, righ-" Richard said, and yelped as he received a sharp kick in the shins from the Border collie.

"Can you see anything now?" she asked the professor.

"No, it's completely black."

"That's not so bad, is it?" Sheila asked.

"Well, no... that's just seeing dark, it's not actually being in the dark," the sloth said slowly.

"Do you think you can just go to your tent and wait or sleep until morning?"

"I'll try," the professor mumbled uncomfortably.  "I suppose it's not that bad.  But..."

"Yes?"

"Well... could you guide me to my tent?  I seem to be blindfolded at the moment."



Back in their own tent, Sydney was staring despondently at the feeble glow of the lighting spell that Richard had cast.  Well, he's certainly not a robot, he thought to himself, and sighed.

"What's up?" Sheila asked him.  "You feel kind of down."

"Well, yeah..." Sydney said.  "That little recap of how I found I was a 'Cubi and that my ancestors were psychopathic monsters, it's not put me in a good mood.  And to cap it all, here we are, stranded in the middle of nowhere, the school's been taken over, we're on the run and we can't even have any fucking lights!"

Sheila's head-wings drooped.  "Yeah," she said.  "That would be a bit of a downer.  But the one thing you want to avoid is feeling too down.  We're 'Cubi, we're very emotional.  It's far too easy to get trapped in a spiral of depression and you really, really don't want that.  You need something to cheer you up."

"Easy for you to say," Syd complained.  "They won't let us have enough light to read by!"

Sheila looked stung at this, but she shrugged it off after a moment.  "Well, we've got about 3000 years to read in," she said.  "It's not the end of the world."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Syd asked.  "Aside from charades.  Shapeshifting takes all the fun out of it now."

"I'm going to find Kath," she said, and made her predatory look.  "You should consider a brief liaison too," she added.  "It'll perk you up no end."  The Border glanced at Syd, then at Richard and then left the tent.

Richard sat up in his sleeping bag, radiating a confused mixture of embarrassment and happiness.  Sydney stared back at him, headwings fanned out, not sure what to say.



Outside, Sheila smiled to herself.  Well, he did say Richard looked cute.  One way or another, he's going to forget about being miserable.

Getting knocked out just as you enter a room? That seems to happen so often I would think people would take better precautions these days. Apparently in this particular history, Destina's actions probably was extremely damaging to the flow of history.

Quote from: justacritic on July 26, 2012, 10:49:38 PM
Apparently in this particular history, Destina's actions probably was extremely damaging to the flow of history.

From Amber's hints, a lot changes after the events of DMFA.  A couple of races vanish in the process and something like that is going to be fairly traumatic to the political world.  Richard's lines about the 'Master Race' hint at my guess as to which ones, but I could be wrong.

Chapter 17

Jakob came to slowly, his head pounding.  As the grogginess and pain began to subside, he discovered that he was wearing a pair of briefs and nothing else.  His shirt, blazer, trousers and trench coat had all been removed and the mark of Daryil was now exposed on his thigh.

Bastards! he thought, Why does everyone always want to steal my shirt?  It's getting really old now.

Anger blossoming inside him, Jakob morphed his wings, turning them into a pair of leggings not dissimilar to the ones he'd shed in favour of the business suit.

Niall and most other 'Cubi could have altered the skin and fur of their legs, making an impromptu pair of skin-tight leathers from their very flesh.  This was why 'Cubi preferred tight clothes and skimpy dress, it was easier to conjure up an outfit like that if the need arose.

Jakob couldn't do this properly, however.  The clan mark on his leg would show through and this was bad form as it gave away the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes.  This mark was the only thing a 'Cubi was not able to hide or conceal by magic - even severing the limb would only cause it to move to the nearest part of them still attached, until the limb had regrown.

What Jakob could do was morph his wings into leggings... covering the mark with another part of his body would solve the problem neatly, though it did mean his wings were now missing.

Exploring the room, the wolf found he was in a small side office.  He wasn't able to teleport, part of the security measures in the building.  Daryil's own design.  You needed a pass from reception except in the dedicated teleport room, or further out in the grounds.  He tried the door, but it was locked of course, and warded against the sort of tentacle trickery he had occasionally used to pick locks in earlier centuries.  Plus, since 'Cubi tentacles were extruded from their wings, bringing them out now would make his trousers go funny and he didn't want that.

Suddenly he felt the presence of a mind-shield and spun around just as the lights came on.

"Good," said a voice.  "You're awake.  A word of warning... please don't try anything foolish.  Trixie here is not to be messed with."

Blinking in the sudden light, Jakob could see a succubus, some kind of hare by the looks, and they had entered through another door which he hadn't spotted in the dark.  To her side was a mare, ostensibly a Being, but with a strangely dead expression on her face.  Jakob was mildly unsettled by the fact that she had no obvious mind or mind-shield and radiated no emotions whatsoever.  Fa'Lina did that too, he thought.

"Allow me to demonstrate," the succubus said, pointing.  "Please remain still, or you may be hurt.  Trixie, fast move.  Stand by that wall over there."

The horse blurred and was suddenly stood with her back to the wall.  Jakob blinked.  "Impressive," he said.

"Why, thank you," the succubus smiled.  "And Trixie is just as deadly as she is fast, so please, please, don't do anything stupid if you wish to walk out of here alive."

"Noted," Jakob said.

"Now tell me, what brings you to ISIS?"

"I was ordered to accompany you," the mare said tonelessly.  The succubus' expression darkened and Jakob watched with fascination.

"I didn't mean you," she told the mare.  "Please idle until you are called by name.  Now then, my good sir," she added to Jakob, "What is your business at Illiath's?"

"Guest lecturer," Jakob said pleasantly.  "I must have missed the memo that the university was due to be ransacked.  May I ask what happened to everyone?"

"Oh, they're quite safe," the succubus said.  "Hopefully we'll be able to release them soon.  But as for you... you're of Daryil's clan.  That's good, for we are in need of certain information about Daryil's son."

"His son," Jakob said quietly.

"Indeed.  We do not intend him any harm, but it is vitally important that we speak to him, and I'm afraid we are desperate.  Desperate enough to attack the school, even though one of our own clan is studying there."

"But you didn't find him, did you?"  Jakob asked.

"No.  Unfortunately he escaped.  It would have made things easier if we had him.  We need him to act as our emissary."

"I'm afraid I don't know where he is," Jakob said.  "Can I go now?"

"And tell Daryil about our invading the school?  It's too early for that.  We need an emissary first, they must be a direct descendant.  His own child!"

"Daryil probably knows what you've done already," Jakob pointed out.  "And if I don't return, he'll know that too.  He also knows where I am now, so he knows where to start looking if I do go missing..."

"Once we have put our proposal to his son, you will be free to go," the Succubus soothed.  "We truly don't wish to harm any our fellow 'Cubi, even if we don't see eye-to-eye with your Leader.  At the end of the day, our clan only wants what's best for our race as a whole."

"And what is best for our race?"  Jakob asked.

"If I told you that, I couldn't return you to Daryil afterwards," the succubus said.  "Some things have to remain secret, Mr..."

"Cross," Jakob said, and made his old smile, the one he used to use to intimidate his enemies during that tyrannical reign of madness all those centuries ago, the reign of Johan Cross.  The succubus just stared at him, her headwings fanning out.


Sydney's dreams were undisturbed by The Lady, and for that he was extremely grateful.  However, his 'Cubi-borne insomniac tendencies left him a very light sleeper and the sound of the tent flap opening had him awake almost instantly.  Meanwhile, Richard lay asleep in blissful ignorance, hands still clad in his precious gloves.

"Did you have fun?"  Syd whispered, and then froze as he realised the newcomer wasn't Sheila.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," the voice said quietly.  "It's Nickolaus.  The... the professor said I should bed in your tent.  I think it's because of our shared heritage."

"Ah, that's fine," Sydney whispered, curling up on the floor.  "You can use my sleeping bag.  I don't need to sleep much anymore."

"You're most kind," the young jackal said, and promptly fell asleep.


"Where is he?"  Nigel asked.  Ashley made a sullen face and pointed towards an open door, one of the meeting rooms in the Arctic base.

"You'll need this," the lynx added, handing the Alsatian hound a hard hat of the type usually used by construction workers.

"I take it he's in a playful mood, then?"  Nigel asked, his leathery grey headwings disappearing and his backwings drooping slightly as he put on the helmet.

"Pretty much.  If you can coax him outside, there are a few matters for his attention."

"No shit," Nigel said, and ran inside, clutching a small folder.

The meeting room had been rearranged, with the tables stacked neatly in a corner, leaving most of the room wide open space.  In another corner was a huge stack of cardboard boxes labelled 'Minestrone Cup'O'Soup With Croutons', which had clearly been shaped into a fort.

Standing slack-jawed, the incubus suddenly yelped as something hard slammed into his hat.  Glancing around he noticed it rolling across the floor, a medium-sided marble.

"For the love of the gods," he yelled, "I don't have time for this!"

As he headed towards the crates, a hand popped up and a vicious catapult hurled another marble at him.  Nigel swore loudly, and Daryil's head peeped over briefly, a pair of headphones over both ears.

Nigel folded his arms and ducked another marble.  He remained dodging and weaving for several more minutes until the flow of marbles stopped.

Thank the gods, he thought, He's run out.

"My Lord," he called out... and stopped short, as a tearing sound came from one of the boxes.  It was followed shortly after by a glimpse of the catapult and a volley of crutons, noodles and dried peas.

Nigel went apeshit and swan-dived into the base of the fort, collapsing it.  There was a brief struggle and Daryil lay pinned to the ground, catapult and music player safely in Nigel's belt.  With a sinking feeling, the Alsatian realised that Daryil didn't have the clan mark on his chest, and he hadn't felt Daryil's aura either.  That could only mean that the fox he'd just wrestled was only an avatar, a psychic projection.  The real Daryil was somewhere else.  Causing even more mayhem, Nigel thought with a shudder.

"So you think you've won?" the fox sneered.  "Just look behind you!"

"No minds there," Nigel said.  "You don't think I'm that stupid?"

The next moment he found himself inside a box of cup'o'soup packets.  Two Daryils watched in hysterical laughter as the incubus struggled to paw the box off his head, loosing a small trickle of powder and other fragments of dried soup onto the floor as he did so.

"You bitch," Nigel said.  "With all due respect, my Lord and Leader, I'll get you for that."

"So, was there something?"  Daryil asked him, banishing one of the avatars he'd created.

"Yeah," Nigel fumed.  "Do you want the good news, the bad news or the terrible news?"

"Tell me the good news first," Daryil decided, still giggling slightly.

"Okay.  The good news is that the 'Cubi Registry have identified the feather belonging to the assassin sent to assasinate the assassin who assassinated Arnold," he said.  "Uh, that sounded better in my head."

"I get it," Daryil said.  "Whose feather is it?"

"Well yeah, that's the snag.  See, the bad news is that they won't tell us who it was unless you fill out these forms..."  He plonked the folder into Daryil's hand.  "Only Tri-wings and emergency services are allowed to make cross-clan queries."

"And the terrible news?"

"Illiath's School for Incubi and Succubi has been attacked and conquered.  Yesterday."

"Yesterday?!"  Daryil fluffed out.  "Why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

Nigel gestured solemnly at the base's entire supply of cup'o'soup, some of which still resembled a fort.

"Uh yeah," Daryil said, ears flushing, "But why today?  Why didn't we learn about it when it actually happened?!  Why didn't the staff inform us?!"

"The email server was down again.  I only found out half an hour ago when the queued messages started to arrive."

"Gods dammit.  We need to take that in-house again.  Do we know who has attacked it?  Have they made any demands?  And why, for the love of the gods, were we alerted via email anyway?!"

"We don't know.  If they've made demands, they haven't made them directly - the worldnet site for the school is still the same as before.  There's nothing about it, whoever has done this had hit hard and fast and used a lot of stealth.
"We only found out at all because Illiath herself managed to fire off an email to us and to the later years, explaining the situation.  She's in hiding now and cannot be reached."

Daryil whistled.  "They drove Illiath out?!  But she's of Taun's clan!  She's taken down Demons!"

"Indeed.  So if you decide to visit, my Lord, please take care.  It could be a ruse to do to you what the Dragons did to Siar and her clan."

"Noted," Daryil said.

I worry for Jakob even though he has more than a few hundred years of experience, I mean unless he can improve his speed to match that of the mare...

Another interesting installment of the story.

I gues that Jakob's past still makes an impression even after all this time and attempts to show he isn't as bad as he use to be or that his old self was more of a front to intimidate others.

I'm actually finding these robots interesting. Even more is given on how capable they are in combat, but still limited in the thinking department. I'm curious how they would fare against Jakob's Panther's or if Jakob made any spec improvement's to some of their Models?

Quote from: joshofspam on August 11, 2012, 12:29:24 PM
I'm curious how they would fare against Jakob's Panther's or if Jakob made any spec improvement's to some of their Models?

The Panthers are kind of restricted technology in the post-PF era.  Jayhawk and their competitors are working under a number of restrictions and regulations.

"And why, for the love of the gods, were we alerted via email anyway?!" <- That part made me laugh.

I'm sure I could say more things... There's suspense, interesting things are going on in all fronts... But I guess I'm just too tired to focus on the details. :\

"idle until your name is called again"

... now, there's an instruction with a loophole the size of a bus. If I heard that, I'd be thinking about removing Trixie's head. If, of course, I thought that would stop her - which I'm less sure about...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 12, 2012, 05:29:41 AM
... now, there's an instruction with a loophole the size of a bus. If I heard that, I'd be thinking about removing Trixie's head. If, of course, I thought that would stop her - which I'm less sure about...

There are about seven prototypes, from 'Sophie' through 'Zafira', each with various improvements to the AI, but there are still a few '...but no-one would do that!' bugs.  In the chapters I'm currently writing (33 and 34) Illiath finds one which even I have no idea how they can fix.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 12, 2012, 05:29:41 AM
"idle until your name is called again"

... now, there's an instruction with a loophole the size of a bus. If I heard that, I'd be thinking about removing Trixie's head. If, of course, I thought that would stop her - which I'm less sure about...

I thought about that too, but I think it would be more effective to neutralize those who would say her name. Then Trixie wouldn't be an issue.

Oh my gollie goshness!  A third Tapewolf story in my lifetime!

All kidding aside, I like this story.  Even though I am truly hoping against hope that Richard actually does something evil, just because there is too many goody twoshoes in this story. :U

The chapters aren't terribly long or short, there's a fair bit of detail, and interesting characters.  Going to read through a couple more times to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Also, don't know if this is considered bad form to do, but if it is say so and I shall put the following in strikethrough or something.  If you ever commit this to a comic, and do a Questions from the Readers bit, here are a few questions I ask of you.

• Did Simeon ever convert to Daryil's clan, or remain a Kamei'sin?  Why?
• Did Ashley every get the 'by appointment' removed from his clan mark?
• How many times has Daryil abused his new giant base form?
• Are there school rivalries between ISIS and SAIA?
• Was Daryil Day ever made official?
• Are the android bodies still being improved upon, or have other projects taken precedent?

I don't mind if you don't answer any of them, but just felt like asking.  Sorry again if I offend anyone.

Quote from: Meany on August 13, 2012, 12:28:44 AM
Oh my gollie goshness!  A third Tapewolf story in my lifetime!

All kidding aside, I like this story.  Even though I am truly hoping against hope that Richard actually does something evil, just because there is too many goody twoshoes in this story. :U

He already has...

QuoteThe chapters aren't terribly long or short, there's a fair bit of detail, and interesting characters.  Going to read through a couple more times to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Also, don't know if this is considered bad form to do, but if it is say so and I shall put the following in strikethrough or something.  If you ever commit this to a comic, and do a Questions from the Readers bit, here are a few questions I ask of you.

Thanks, I'd very much like to.  However, Project Future is going to last at least another 5 years at its current rate, and I don't want to have to wait that long.  At the same time, running the sequel concurrently with PF would be pretty weird.

I already had to drop or obfuscate a few bits of dialogue in chapter 15 and the next chapter to avoid spoiling things which have yet to happen in PF.

One of the things I am considering for this story is switching to a weekly update cycle for a bit.  I won't be able to keep that up forever, but the buffer has got a lot bigger than I had envisaged and is actually a bit of a burden.  What I'm writing now won't appear for something crazy like 8 months at the current update rate...

QuoteHow many times has Daryil abused his new giant base form?

"I mean, when it first happened, I thought it was rather cool.  I figured we'd never have trouble changing the lights in the warehouse again," he said, pointing at the mercury vapour bulbs suspended from the high ceiling.  "It was a disaster.  Have you ever tried picking up a soap bubble with your fingers?"

"The bulbs were like that...?"

"The fittings were like that," Daryil said.  "I didn't get as far as the bulbs."

(chapter 23)

QuoteAre there school rivalries between ISIS and SAIA?

Not in a particularly hostile manner.  They have different approaches, and obviously each one thinks that their way is best.  I have been toying with the idea of student exchanges, e.g. where ISIS students attend SAIA for a stretch to cover subjects which ISIS doesn't teach.
It's important to note that in the post-DMFA world, SAIA has lost a certain amount of its influence and other schools have sprung up.

QuoteAre the android bodies still being improved upon, or have other projects taken precedent?

Yes.  They still haven't quite got magic working properly yet, but there have been a number of improvements.  However, there are also a lot of restrictions which Jayhawk and their competitors are subject to.

Mmm.  A difference of personal definitions then.  Attempting to do something registering as 'evil' but failing doesn't register as 'evil' in Richard's case to me.

Speaking of him, I hereby submit the fan theory that under Richard's right glove is a skeleton arm a la Mozenrath (Aladdin Animated Series).  I submit that it became skeleton-y through some sort of magical punishment; a permanent scaring that can't be simply repaired with magic, but doesn't interfere with the convict's functions.  Basically a sign proclaiming the crime they committed.

Quote from: Meany on August 15, 2012, 02:36:15 AM
Mmm.  A difference of personal definitions then.  Attempting to do something registering as 'evil' but failing doesn't register as 'evil' in Richard's case to me.

Let's put it this way, Niall refused to save him from being hanged.

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 15, 2012, 03:38:23 AM

Quote from: Meany on August 15, 2012, 02:36:15 AM
Mmm.  A difference of personal definitions then.  Attempting to do something registering as 'evil' but failing doesn't register as 'evil' in Richard's case to me.

Let's put it this way, Niall refused to save him from being hanged.

That's still rather unhelpful, there's a wide range of deeds that Richard could have done to exclude him from Niall's crusade and depending on the point of view the level of evil would be different. That being said I'm putting my money on the classic soul eating stereotype, and I'm talking about a lot of souls eaten maybe from a particular set of Beings to make it even more heinous.

Justacritic, you can comment and you can speculate, and I'm sure Tape will welcome both, but it's starting to sound like you're telling him how to write his story. I hope I'm just reading your posts wrong.

Quote from: Gabi on August 15, 2012, 11:00:48 AM
Justacritic, you can comment and you can speculate, and I'm sure Tape will welcome both, but it's starting to sound like you're telling him how to write his story. I hope I'm just reading your posts wrong.

Sorry, I was taking a comment and information that was out there and trying to think of what Richard could have done that could make Niall who goes saving cubi from trumped up charges resulting in death sentences refuse to save him. If I gave you the wrong impression I apologize. Still from writing this I wonder, does Niall only save cubi who have death sentences or imprisonment due to anti-cubi prejudice?   

Quote from: justacritic on August 15, 2012, 11:05:57 AM
Sorry, I was taking a comment and information that was out there and trying to think of what Richard could have done that could make Niall who goes saving cubi from trumped up charges resulting in death sentences refuse to save him. If I gave you the wrong impression I apologize. Still from writing this I wonder, does Niall only save cubi who have death sentences or imprisonment due to anti-cubi prejudice?   

Well, it's all been pre-written up to about chapter 34 anyway, I don't anticipate making significant changes to those chapters, though I will probably tweak and improve a few things.

Niall does have standards.  A key factor for him is how much they regret what they did.

As for Richard, he hasn't successfully managed to steal souls yet (see chapter 14).

Quote from: Gabi on August 12, 2012, 07:23:59 PM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 12, 2012, 05:29:41 AM
"idle until your name is called again"

... now, there's an instruction with a loophole the size of a bus. If I heard that, I'd be thinking about removing Trixie's head. If, of course, I thought that would stop her - which I'm less sure about...

I thought about that too, but I think it would be more effective to neutralize those who would say her name. Then Trixie wouldn't be an issue.

True, but... it's possible there are previously-set "defend/avenge the commander" type instructions, which would then be triggered.

Either is just as likely, though, and the same sort of instructional loophole applies in both cases.

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 13, 2012, 05:12:03 AM
"I mean, when it first happened, I thought it was rather cool.  I figured we'd never have trouble changing the lights in the warehouse again," he said, pointing at the mercury vapour bulbs suspended from the high ceiling.  "It was a disaster.  Have you ever tried picking up a soap bubble with your fingers?"

"The bulbs were like that...?"

"The fittings were like that," Daryil said.  "I didn't get as far as the bulbs."

(chapter 23)

This implies that Daryil hasn't thought this through properly. While he might be unable to change the bulbs himself, there's nothing stopping him putting a hand down, and someone else stepping onto his palm for an easy lift up to the appropriate height...

But that's just me thinking. ;-]

Hopefully running this out of the usual schedule won't cause too many problems.


Chapter 18

"Where are we actually going?"  Sheila asked Professor Falkirk, when they had packed up the tent.

"We're going to make for the Malverns," the poodle said, brushing aside one of his locks in a futile attempt to keep it excluded from his field of vision.  "There's a small 'Cubi population there, and we should be able to get help."

"How long will it take?"

"Depends how fast we can go," he said.  "But we're quite close.  I think we're only about fifteen miles out from the base of the Malvern hills.  Most of that will be through forest, mind you.  But we should definitely be there for dinner.  Too bad we can't call ahead and arrange a party booking at the inn..."

He broke off at a sudden, shrill sound.

"A hawk?"  Daniel asked.  Mike, the osprey griffin, shook his head.

"That was no bird," he said quietly.  "There were words in that cry."

Then it called out again, descending from the sky above them, a high-pitched voice that spooked some of the more emotionally volatile students, causing them to drop their tents.

"Professor Falkirk!"  It demanded.  "Where is Professor Falkirk?!  Which of you is Professor Falkirk?!"

"I am Professor Falkirk," the poodle replied, and the creature descended to chest height, hovering in front of him.  It was formed from pure darkness, edged only with a faint orange glow that reflected in the poodle incubus' black leather jeans.

"I have a message for you, Professor Falkirk," the Warp-Aci said.  "An ultimatum from Lady Finch.  She demands that you immediately turn one of your students over to our custody.  They will not be harmed, but we must speak with them in private, face-to-face."

"Any one of my students?" Falkirk said, and a lazy smile crossed his features.  "Let me see, who's been most disruptive lately?"

Richard edged away, concealing himself behind Sheila.

"No!" the creature trilled.  "Do not jest, Professor!  You know very well who, I was told so!"

"Humour me," the professor said, folding his arms.  "Who were you sent to retrieve?"

"You are to turn over the fox incubus, Sidney," it said.  "In exchange, we will return the staff members to you and the school will be free to resume its business once our clan operatives have left it."

"Sydney...?  Why, what's he ever done to you?"

"You are well aware of his importance," the Warp-Aci said, glancing at the nearest fox.  "Even if he is not."

"I see," the unkempt poodle said slowly.  "And if we refuse?"

"If you refuse, we will take Sidney by force of violence.  This is your one chance to settle things peaceably."

"You attacked and disrupted an entire school, just over one student?!"

"I am only the messenger," the warp-aci reminded him.  "What is your answer?"

"Go fuck yourself," Professor Jevex instructed it.

"No..." the poodle murmured.  "No.  I will need some time to think about this.  You will have your reply tomorrow.  Is that acceptable?"

"I was told you might say that," the little creature said.  "I will return in twelve hours, and you must answer me then.  Choose wisely... the Lady Finch is not to be trifled with!"  So saying, it vanished.


"Oh Jeeze," Richard said, and the professor glanced at him, with a strangely quiet and detached expression.  Sheila looked horrified at Sydney, who seemed to be struck dumb.  Then he shook himself.

"Professor," Sydney said.  "What did it mean?  Why do they want me?  What have I done?"

"I don't really know what it was talking about, Syd," the poodle sighed.  "I was bluffing, hoping it would give us some clues.  My best guess is it has something to do with Jyraneth, but it's only that, a guess..."

"When the school was attacked, the attackers were clad in Darkness like Jyraneth's old Raiders," Sheila said, horrified.  "Do they want to join him to their ranks?"

"Then they'll want me too!" Nick whimpered.

"No, no, no," Professor Falkirk said.  "I can't believe they're really Jyraneth - it's all wrong!  If they were acting under that crazy hag's orders... well, for one, she wouldn't be guaranteeing Syd's safety.  And Jyraneth seemed to be particularly cut up by you.  Why would she ask for Syd at all?  From what the two of you have said, I don't think she even knows his name!
"But whatever does happen with Syd - and I won't abandon him if I can possibly avoid it - we'll keep you safely hidden.  If necessary, I'll take you to Daryil's allies myself once we reach the Malverns.  If they are as desperate for Syd as they sound, we might not be able to keep him.  But... Daryil may be able to use your clan link to locate Syd so we can rescue him."

Syd was almost in tears at this and although Sheila was hugging and holding him steady, she wasn't really doing much better herself.  The professor cast his gaze back to the white jackal, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet and was radiating a wide variety of negative emotions.  One of them was guilt.

"Richard," the poodle said quietly, "I have a strong feeling that you know something about all this, don't you?"

"Yeah," the jackal said awkwardly.  "Lady Finch is my mom..."


"Johan Cross?!" the hare said, incredulously.  "You are truly the Great Dictator of yore?!"

"The exiled lord of Ha'Khun, at your service," Jakob said silkily.  "And you are...?"

"Tina," she said, eyes shining.  "If things work out between us, I can tell you more."

"Indeed?  What kind of 'working out' do you have in mind?"  Jakob asked, shifting his position slightly to adopt a more seductive pose.

"Well... it occurs to me that being under Daryil's wing must be a rather... constraining experience for one such as you.  All the things which you have done at Ha'Khunn, all the things you could have done, given the choice.  So many innovations that you could conceive of, and now all of that is gone, such great potential shackled by the yoke of Daryil's Being-loving Tenets."

"Well," Jakob said, scratching his chin, "I haven't really thought about it that way for a long time now, but... dammit, you're right."

"And Beings," the succubus said.  "With all their weapons.  Our whole clan yearns for the time to come again when they are put back in their proper place, near the bottom of the food chain."

"But if I aided you against my Leader, my very soul would be forfeit," Jakob said casually.

"Ah, but we can protect you from him," the succubus pointed out eagerly.  "Don't you see?  When Daryil betrayed us, decreed that we weren't allowed to hunt and kill Beings for sport anymore, we started out own clan.  A clan that is mostly made up of ex-Daryil members.  Join us, and we can break your link with that slave master you call a Leader!"

"Cut the strings," Jakob asked, "Become a man instead of a puppet?"

"Indeed!  Together, with your experience from Ha'Khun we can overthrow our Being oppressors and bring the 'Cubi race back from the darkness into the light it once had, that it should have!"

"Light eternal!"  Jakob cried.  "The Master Race!"

"Fa'Rana Clan shall guide all Creatures into the future!"  Tina said.  "Our future!"

"Good," Jakob said simply.  "Just checking, really... now I know you're a bunch of fruitcakes."

The hare stared at Jakob as if he'd suddenly slapped her, wings fanning out.  Her face twisted into a mask of hatred, and she choked up for a moment.

"If you won't see reason, then we'll... we'll have to detain you," the succubus snarled.  "You really should have cooperated, Lord Cross.  You had your chance.  Now... The Professor will deal with you personally."  So saying, she turned to the android.

"Trixie, destroy yourself," Jakob said, very quickly.  There was a blur of motion, and the horse collapsed, the extruded skewer from one hand thrust clean through her brain and out the other side of her skull.  There was no blood of course, but a true android would have had a noticeable change in expression.  Trixie's eyes remained just as dead as they had been when she was alive, if you consider her to have ever been alive at all.

Tina just stared at the android for a few moments, an appalled expression on her face, utterly unable to accept what had just happened.  Finally the succubus managed to turn her attention back to the prisoner, her back-wings rippling and becoming tentacles, a wrathful expression on her face.  But by the time she had torn her eyes away from Trixie's wreckage, the wolf had already kicked the door down and was halfway down the corridor.

They've still a few bugs to work out with those, Jakob thought, with a savage grin.


"Yeah," Josh was saying to Niall as they sat in front of a video screen.  Joshua was in incubus mode, sporting a pair of feathery wings and head-wings, and he had adopted a clothing style more typical of the 'Cubi race, a front-only shirt, arm sleeves and leggings.

This kind of look wasn't something he did at work or on official business and he only usually did it openly in the presence of Jakob or his allies, since at the end of the day, Josh was an android with the 'Cubi extensions and not really a 'Cubi at all.

It's funny, he thought, Most 'Cubi spend decades learning to hide their 'Cubi nature so they can live as if they were Beings.  I'm a Being learning to live as if I was a 'Cubi...

"Well, I've come to the end of my tether with this," the husky said.  "I can only assume that the killer is some kind of android, so I wanted your professional opinion.  I'm sorry you had to see this."

"I feel sick," Niall said.  "Those poor people..."

"Yeah, I know.  It's not been fun viewing for me either.  What do you think she is, though?"

"Oh, I think you're right.  She's got to be some kind of android too.  There's something about the gait that makes me think they're based on Jayhawk algorithms and motor reflex data, but there's also something strange about it as well.  I'd say they're probably a competitor's clone based on pieces of our earlier designs and patents."

"And the teleportation?"

"It's a new one on me.  Clever, though.  I'm going to assume it's some kind of space-folding system... if it wasn't so easy to teleport magically, perhaps we'd have made something like it ourselves."

"It would make a nice upgrade," Josh said wistfully.  "Let me know if you make one."

"I'll put it before the board," Niall said.  "You're right, it may have a lot of commercial possibilities."

"Okay," Josh said.  "So we have a teleporting android on a murder spree.  Any idea who made them?"

"Well, that's the big question, isn't it?" the fox incubus sighed.  "It looks a lot like a dedicated warrior robot to me," Niall said, and winced at the memory.  "That horrible skewer thing... we've never added internal weapons, never!  Our focus was always on protecting the individual and enhancing their life, not on allowing them to harm others!"

"I was going to mention Dorcan and how he crushed the Mayor's skull," Josh teased, "But then I remembered how you put in interlocks to stop me attacking Jakob when he was playing Mr. Evil..."

"We only made him strong," Niall pointed out, headwings drooping slightly.  "What people do with their strength is up to them - if Dorcan was that pissed at the Mayor he'd have killed him anyway, even at normal strength."

"Just needling you," Josh said.  "Though I am curious about the marksmanship add-on."

"That was commissioned by the Being-Creature Commission," Niall said.  "And it's tightly controlled, you have to have a license for it, like that bounty-hunter wolf guy does... what was his name...?
"But that's the thing, see.  The Commission put a lot of restrictions in place against building warrior androids, which is why we don't make them.  Internal weapons are out, and reflex upgrades are... well, they're not supposed to be that good," he said, and looked away from the screen as the mare calmly impaled a fox Being unfortunate enough to have witnessed her rampage.

"What I mean is this..." he continued.  "You're quite simply not allowed to build something like that!  It counts as New Life because it doesn't fall under the exemption for guys like you and Dorcan.  The penalties for doing that are pretty dire.
"And that means, whoever built this monster, and I think they'll have built lots of them... whoever did it simply doesn't care what the Being-Creature Commission thinks about it."

Josh's fake headwings fluffed out as the implication hit him.

"You think it's a revolution," the cyber-husky said slowly.  "That this is a test, and when they've built enough of these androids, they're going to take over."

Interesting developments!  Always good to note Jakob hasn't let his old skills slide, both acting and quick reflexes.

I just know it's my own lack of empathy talking, but the bleeding hearts in this fic are reaching the triple digits! :U  Also, is your alternation between the spellings Sidney, and Sydney intentional?  Not criticism there, just a question.

On to Trixie, a shame such a valuable piece of hardware had to be destroyed, but there are more where she came from! 

So the Daryil Separatists, who's name I will only find in going back a page have an orange glow to them.  I wonder if they managed to remove the Daryil clan trait in the branching.

Quote from: Meany on August 18, 2012, 01:35:15 AM
I just know it's my own lack of empathy talking, but the bleeding hearts in this fic are reaching the triple digits! :U  Also, is your alternation between the spellings Sidney, and Sydney intentional?  Not criticism there, just a question.

You may notice that people who call him that don't know him.
With the bleeding hearts thing, are you thinking of Niall?  He's usually like that.  The thing with the mayor in Project Future was an aberration.

QuoteSo the Daryil Separatists, who's name I will only find in going back a page have an orange glow to them.

Sorry?

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 18, 2012, 05:34:09 AM

Quote from: Meany on August 18, 2012, 01:35:15 AM
So the Daryil Separatists, who's name I will only find in going back a page have an orange glow to them.

Sorry?

I believe he's talking about the orange glow around the warp-aci, and presuming that "darkness" around the separatists is the same thing.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 18, 2012, 08:12:05 AM
I believe he's talking about the orange glow around the warp-aci, and presuming that "darkness" around the separatists is the same thing.

Whoops, I missed that.

Wow, that was one major bug!

A little typo, if you don't mind: "the succubus pointer out eagerly"=>"the succubus pointed out eagerly"

Quote from: Gabi on August 19, 2012, 01:37:52 PM
Wow, that was one major bug!

Sometimes they're so obvious you don't think of testing them...

QuoteA little typo, if you don't mind: "the succubus pointer out eagerly"=>"the succubus pointed out eagerly"

Thanks.

The problem with that one is not that you can order the machine to kill itself, but that the machine is less than selective about who it accepts orders from.

... which leads into a whole different ball game about how you authenticate people, since in a verbally-addressed system you can't base it on, say, genetic markers. Hrm. And with shapeshifters, you can't specify a shape - or even a voiceprint, since a shapeshifter should be able to shift the shape of their vocal cords to match; albeit that might be trickier to manage, since you can't hear yourself from outside to make sure it matches....

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 20, 2012, 03:27:28 AM
The problem with that one is not that you can order the machine to kill itself, but that the machine is less than selective about who it accepts orders from.

... which leads into a whole different ball game about how you authenticate people, since in a verbally-addressed system you can't base it on, say, genetic markers. Hrm. And with shapeshifters, you can't specify a shape - or even a voiceprint, since a shapeshifter should be able to shift the shape of their vocal cords to match; albeit that might be trickier to manage, since you can't hear yourself from outside to make sure it matches....

That is rather difficult problem to fix. But in a way, it's no different from what Jakob's Panthers have to cope with or any other living and thinking creature would have to deal with under the circumstances.

Another way around it (Which the Panthers probably have) is free thought to think about the orders and question if under the circumstances they should be followed. Of coarse, to much free thought might mean that the robot might start questioning why they listen to anyone anyways.

Quote from: joshofspam on August 20, 2012, 03:02:36 PM
Another way around it (Which the Panthers probably have) is free thought to think about the orders and question if under the circumstances they should be followed. Of coarse, to much free thought might mean that the robot might start questioning why they listen to anyone anyways.

Yeah, the problem is that they've gone down the programmatic AI route.  Changing to a fully sentient design like the panthers - or Joshua - would likely take years of redevelopment.

Quote from: joshofspam on August 20, 2012, 03:02:36 PM
That is rather difficult problem to fix. But in a way, it's no different from what Jakob's Panthers have to cope with or any other living and thinking creature would have to deal with under the circumstances.

You said a mouthful. It's an incredibly tricky problem to resolve, and I don't pretend I have the slightest idea how to start resolving it.

It's the sort of thing you could kick around for an entire evening over beers, and still not even have a hope of starting to figure out a plan to resolve it. In fact, it's on a level with the challenge given to the designer of the e type jag; his boss bet him he couldn't design one in less than a month. He did it, and it came out incredibly well.

I can't find the youtube that listed it, though; I can find the part just _after_ Clarkson explains it, but not the actual part itself. :-/

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 21, 2012, 11:35:35 AM
You said a mouthful. It's an incredibly tricky problem to resolve, and I don't pretend I have the slightest idea how to start resolving it.

It's covered in a little more detail around chapters 33-36, so I don't want to pitch in too much yet.

Anyway, for those who are interested, Merlin has made a cool rendition of Professor Falkirk here:
http://tapewolf.deviantart.com/art/Professor-Falkirk-322737217
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/8700100

..bet you saw this coming.

Chapter 19

Daryil was crouching in front of a small table in the Arctic base when Jakob finally found him.  A large white feral rabbit sat upon the table and Daryil passed his hands over the bunny's head.  The animal belched and Daryil pulled from its mouth an exquisitely small magician's hat.

"Er, Daryil..." Jakob said and the fox whirled around with a startled expression.

"Oh, you're looking cute today," he said, appraising the wolf with a coy expression.  "In fact, those tight pants are wing-shifted, aren't they?  You're not really wearing any clothes at all!  Did you do all that just for me...?"

"Um, not right now," Jakob babbled.  "I was kidnapped, and they stole my clothes!"

"Hot," Daryil said.  "And then you made sweet love?"

"Funny you should say that, but no," Jakob snapped, and then looked contrite.  Daryil's headwings drooped slightly in sympathy with Jakob's.

"Please, Dar, it's serious," he begged.  "They took me prisoner at first until I told them I was Johan Cross.  Then they wanted me to join their wacko clan and betray you, so that they can take over the world on behalf of all Creature-kind, and kick all the Beings into the curb!"

"That doesn't sound like the best date I've ever been on, I'll give you that," Daryil admitted.  "Let me guess... it was Fa'Rana clan, right?"

"You knew?"  Jakob exclaimed, his wings fanning out again with a hurt look on his face.  "After all the shit I've been through, you knew and you didn't warn me?!"

"I didn't know what they were actually doing," Daryil protested, "And I'm grateful that you've found out.  See, I got a call from Callahan telling me they were up to something dodgy, but the clan don't trust him so he doesn't know what.

"And I do know someone has captured ISIS, but I only found out just after you'd gone.  I'm sorry." he put a hand on Jakob's shoulder.

"No harm done," Jakob sighed.  "Well, apart from losing a bunch of clothes and my wallet.  And my trench..."

"Better cancel your cards," Daryil said.  "Ask them if they can cancel the trench coat too, you never know.  Did you learn anything else before they raped you?"

Jakob just stared.  "What's got into you, Daryil?  Why are you acting like this?"

"It's spring," Daryil said.  "Can't you feel it too?  The urge to just grab some cute guy, tie him up and then-"

"No," Jakob cut in forcefully.  "Probably because it's early September."

"Oh.  Well, it feels like spring," Daryil shrugged.  "But yeah, okay.  I'll find Simeon when we're done talking, grab him, tie him up and then-"

"Whatever.  You do that," Jakob suggested.  "Try and work it off or something, because with all due respect, my Lord, this is important stuff.  For example, the Fa'Rana guys seem to have been building some warrior robots,"  he added.

"Warrior androids?" Daryil said, and his face lit up.  "Were they hot?  Cute bishie boys in shiny armour?"

"Female," Jakob said after a pause.  "Pretty plain-looking, actually.  No obvious armour, internal or external."

"Dammit!"  Daryil made a face.

"And they have lightning-fast reflexes and internal blade weapons that can punch through even their own skulls.  I think they actually are robots, though.  I mean, programmatic AI, not a soul.  This 'Trixie' was making exactly the sort of mistakes you'd expect from a computerised AI, they even forgot to stop her from obeying my orders, but that's not all!
"Trixie didn't have a mind to read, no emotions.  Nothing!  Even shielded you have some residue... in fact, the succubus used her own mind as a decoy, so that this 'Trixie' was able to knock me out from behind."

Daryil whistled.  "AI from scratch?  That's against the convention," he said.

"No shit!  But... oh crap, I forgot!  They... I know why why they've taken over the school!  They're trying to kidnap your son, Dar!"

All three pairs of Daryil's wings fanned out, and he went very still.


Professor Falkirk and about half the students within earshot stared at Richard with a mixture of expressions and the group as a whole radiated a seething mass of feelings, a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions that covered almost the entire spectrum as if it was some kind of psychic freak-show.

"You what?!"  Sheila demanded, appalled.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean it..." Richard said, backing off under the onslaught of feelings that even he was able to pick up.  "Mom... She kept asking me questions, about the other students.  Ones I was friendly with..."

"You told her to kidnap me," Sydney snarled.  "You sold me out!"

"That's not true...!" Richard protested.

Syd looked like he was about to hit the jackal, but Professor Falkirk shoved him aside.

"A plant," the poodle said, and his fur smoothed itself back, his tentacles out, wing-heads leering dangerously at the jackal.  His own expression was one of quiet confidence.  "You helped orchestrate the attack on our school," he said and one of his tentacles wrapped itself around his enemy's neck, a grey snake of fur, its little wolflike head promising a terrible death as it squeezed the life from its victim.  Richard gurgled and choked, clawing at the tentacle with his gloved hands.

"Please, Professor..." Sheila begged.  "Please... Don't kill him...!  He's... he's just a kid!  You can't kill your own students!"

"He ceased to be a student the moment his parents attacked ISIS," the incubus said calmly.  "Terms and conditions, part 4, subsection 2.  But no, I won't kill him.  My Lord would go apeshit and after all, he's only young.  But most importantly of all, Richard is much, much more use to us as a hostage.  Two can play at this game."


"So," Daryil said, when he trusted himself to speak again.  "Do we know which son they had in mind...?"

"No.  I have no idea what they're thinking of.  But what about Jezebel and Lilith?"  Jakob asked.  "How are they doing?  Are they safe?"

"A bit broody," Daryil said.  "They're kind of upset about not going back to ISIS, and I can't blame them."

"And they'd be a target for the Fa'Rana guys," Jakob said.

"Absolutely.  I've sent them into hiding for now."

"...which doesn't help the brooding?"

"That too."

"What about Lisa?" the wolf said.  "How's she doing?"

"Okay," Daryil said, closing his eyes briefly as he probed his link to the vixen.  "I don't really know.  She kept her part of the bargain and I kept mine, doubly so since it turned out to be twins.  I can tell she's alive since she's one of my Children now, but we haven't really spoken much since the ritual.  As far as I'm aware, she's mostly carrying on with her old life, and taking a part-time course to help her control her powers and feelings."

"Probably a coping mechanism," Jakob pondered.  "At some point she'll probably accept she's not a Being anymore and make a bit more use of her powers.  But do you think she's a target?"

"Unlikely," Daryil replied instantly.  "She's kept her 'Cubification pretty secret."

Jakob paused, watching Daryil's white rabbit for a moment.  "I suppose we ought to warn the whole clan about it," he suggested.  "They seem pretty gone, kidnapping every male member of Clan Daryil until they find the one they want... it's not impossible."

"I will," Daryil said.  "But first, I'm going to get laid.  Want to tag along?"

"I'd rather not," Jakob said.  "Oh, and Dar..."

"Yes?"

"You're my Leader and all, but please.... Don't ask Simeon to shapeshift into me again, right?  That was just creepy."

"Ah.  Yeah, I guess it was," Daryil said and his ears blushed slightly as he turned to go.

"Oh yeah," Jakob added, "And if you do get Simeon to shapeshift into me, please don't send him around to try and seduce me afterwards.  That was even more creepy."

"It won't happen again," Daryil said and became a grey wolf incubus with long grey hair, an identical copy of Jakob.  He headed to the door and then stopped.  "Can you put Bessie back in her hutch for me...?"


Richard seized his chance as the Professor turned to talk to Sheila, and the grip of the tentacles loosened for one vital moment.  Then he was away, pushing through the crowd of assembled students, streaking off blindly into the woods with no direction in mind, just the urge to run, to flee from his erstwhile fellow students.

The poodle sent out a wing-tentacle to try and trip him but Richard had glanced back and spotted it, dodged.  But Sydney was after him too, and the muscular build of an ex-adventurer gave him a significant advantage over the jackal so he was soon gaining.

Fuelled by hate and disgust at Richard's betrayal, The fox's own tentacles came out, snapping at Richard, and then going for his feet.
The jackal tumbled over, but Syd noted that Richard had clearly had some training of his own because he dropped into a roll.  Unfortunately for him, it wasn't enough and moments later Sydney was on top of him, trying to pin him down.

But Richard didn't intend to just roll over and give up.  He struggled, bit Syd's arm and even managed to summon his own wing-tentacles, throwing the fox off balance.  He would probably have got away if Sydney hadn't grabbed his arm.

Richard thrashed, trying to regain his balance.  Syd clung on, and before he realised quite what was happening, the glove had slipped off in his hand.  Richard let out a scream of terror, and then went limp.

Syd was quite alarmed.  For a moment he thought that the jackal had been hurt or was suffering from some kind of seizure, but the sudden deluge of energy had struck him hard, saturating his psychic faculties.  As it tailed off he was able to resolve it... Richard had just emitted a massive flux of shock and terror, a crippling emotional reaction to the prospect of losing his glove.

Even so, Sydney checked the white jackal over for any injuries, but he stopped when he saw the other 'Cubi's wrist.  His fur stood up and his leathery wings fanned out and he stood there, frozen where he was as Sheila and the others began to arrive.

Richard himself had stopped struggling and just lay there, weeping gently and radiating a significant amount of misery and fear.  As she knelt down to check him over, Sheila found herself feeling rather sorry for him.  Sydney, however, was starting to worry her.

"Holy gods," the fox was saying to himself.  Sheila brushed him gently aside, and then froze too.  She shook herself and turned back to the Professor.
"Professor Falkirk, come here!" she called, for want of anything else to say, because the Professor was already hurrying towards them.  "You'd better see this yourself!"

"Well bugger me with a fish-fork," the poodle said.  "No, it can't be!  It's impossible!"

It was the first time any of them had seen Richard without his gloves.  On his wrist was the mark of the clan of Lord Ikaarion Daryil.

Insert *dun dun dun dun* music. Poor Jakob, Daryil still hasn't given up on him. Nice trick from the tri-winged leader, pulling a hat out of a rabbit  :mowsmile I don't know what is going with the students right now but it seems things are getting stranger.   

And for those wondering about Lisa:  http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,6445.msg355059.html#msg355059
(Good grief, it was a year ago)

I don't think it should have come as that much of a shock, considering his clan branched off from Daryil's clan. After all, hasn't it been established that some Ja'Fell members have Jyraneth's clan marks?

I still find it more shocking that Daryil has somehow managed to turn an adventurer into a toy.

The thought of cancelling a trenchcoat was funny. How could that be done?, I wonder.

Wow! Daryil seems to be really good at making Jakob feel awkward.

Not to mention what is the deal with that rabbit?

Seems like Richard got himself in a lot of trouble. But it seems like he's left quite a few of his class confused. Though the mark on his hand has me wonder just why does everyone seem so shocked?

Granted most didn't know he was from a branched clan of Daryil's. But I think he at least told the two he hangs out with the most about it. So why so surprised and just why does uncovering it make him have such a huge emotional reactions to it?

I'm guessing branching off entirely isn't as easy as just saying it makes it sound.

Quote from: joshofspam on August 25, 2012, 04:46:44 PM
Wow! Daryil seems to be really good at making Jakob feel awkward.

Not to mention what is the deal with that rabbit?

Seems like Richard got himself in a lot of trouble. But it seems like he's left quite a few of his class confused. Though the mark on his hand has me wonder just why does everyone seem so shocked?

Granted most didn't know he was from a branched clan of Daryil's. But I think he at least told the two he hangs out with the most about it. So why so surprised and just why does uncovering it make him have such a huge emotional reactions to it?

I'm guessing branching off entirely isn't as easy as just saying it makes it sound.

I think Richard's reaction was mostly magnified embarrassment, since he hates Daryil clan so much, it shames him to have their clan mark, and even more so if others see it. The fact that he's a Cubi makes his emotions even stronger, so I believe that's why he fainted.

But I don't understand why the others were so shocked either.

As for the rabbit... from what I've seen so far, she seems to be just a pet.

The rabbit thing is just Daryil being Daryil.  I'll not comment on Richard, but he does have his reasons.

I forgot to upload this last night, as usual.

Chapter 20

"You're... of Daryil's clan?!"  Professor Falkirk gurgled.  "What the hell are you doing among Fa'Rana's followers...?"

"Please... please don't tell anyone..." Richard begged through tears.

"Oh, for the love the of the gods!" Sheila snapped, "Am I the only one who isn't ashamed of their clan?!"

"Oh, I doubt it's that," Professor Falkirk said gently, handing Richard his missing glove and easing him up.  "Well, he probably is, but I think he's more worried about Fa'Rana's clan.  They don't know, do they?"

"Dad does," Richard wept.  "The gloves were his idea... Mom probably does... Don't think anyone else knows..."

"Ah, so it was your father... he's your Daryil parent, isn't he?  And our clan takes genetic precedence because Daryil's an ascended leader.  That's a point... does Daryil himself know about your father?"

"He's hidden himself from Daryil," Richard said.  "He'd be executed for his crimes, so he disrupted the link to his Leader.  He did the same to me too when my clan mark came in..."

"Did he?" Professor Falkirk mused.  "Daryil clan took priority, so at least part of the link to him must be live..."

"What now, Professor?" Sheila asked.  "You were trying to strangle him earlier.  What do you plan to do now you've found you're clan-mates?"

"He's a fallen Daryil member," Falkirk pointed out, an undertone of bitterness in his voice.  "But even so, yes, this complicates things a great deal.  Even if his father is beyond redemption, it's not too late for Richard.  I'll have to bring him before my Leader."

"No!" Richard shrieked.

"He won't hurt you," the Professor said gently.  "And nor will I.  I'm really sorry about what I did earlier, I shouldn't have been this hasty."

"But Daryil...  We've broken his laws... What will he do?"

The poodle patted Richard's hair gently, comforting him.  "Keaton Jyraneth tried to murder both Daryil and his lover," he pointed out.  "And you know what?  She walked away unharmed.  You can't possibly have offended him worse than that!"

"But it's my Dad," the jackal sobbed.  "Daryil will destroy him for breaking the Tenets... I- I don't want my Dad to die!"

"I'll see what I can do," the poodle replied.  "He'll be in trouble, but really... Daryil isn't Jyraneth.  He's not some kind of ogre who kills people on a whim or for pleasure, certainly not his own descendants!  It's far more likely he would find some way to restrain your father without causing much permanent harm.  That's more Daryil's way."

"What about us, Professor?"  Daniel asked.  "We're still stuck in the middle of the forest."

"Very true.  We should probably put this behind us and continue on to the Malverns.  If we can get there before evening we should be able to get Syd, Nick and Richard into safety.  Any objections?"


Josh was preparing to leave when the call came in.

"Hello?" he said.  "Oh, Niall!  How are you doing?  I was just about to go."

"Not bad," the fox said.  "I wanted a word if you're not too busy, though.  Or if you are, actually.  It's kind of important.  How are you doing?"

"Things are going pretty good," the husky replied.  "I ran a search on... Haley."

"Oh?  A CCTV pattern recognition job?"

"Yes.  There have been sightings of someone very closely matching her appearance in Marlbury, so I'm going to check them out.  If nothing else, it will take my mind off it when I find out that it's all some weird coincidence."

"Is it that important?" the fox inquired.  Josh glared.  "I... I mean obviously it's important to you," Niall added hastily, "But isn't the massacre a higher priority?"

"I'm stuck with that project," Joshua said.  "But since the massacre was at Marlbury anyway, it might help give me some vital clue.  She may know something.
"If all else fails, investigating Haley may distract enough to let my subconscious pick at the problem.  So far, I've had a very good record at Starfire, so I think they can forgive me for one wild goose chase if that's what it turns out to be.
"At the end of the day, there's definitely something bizarre about it, and evaluating the risks of the bizarre is something we do."

"Well, good luck," Niall said.  "But I'd hold on if I were you.  See, we have good reason to believe that Fa'Rana clan has been illegally building warrior robots in violation of the conventions, and it's likely they built the thing responsible for the massacre.  It's likely they might be attempting some kind of takeover."

"Shit," Josh swore.  "I've got the flight booked, I can't cancel it now.  But I will look them up en route.  And if you can send me what proof you have, I'll get someone to look into it and focus on that angle when I get back. "

"Also, they are trying to kidnap Daryil's son."

"What son?" Joshua blinked.

"We don't know.  He hasn't had a son for centuries as far as we're aware, but it's entirely possible they are just confused, of course.  If so, that is likely to make them especially dangerous, particularly when they realise they've made some kind of mistake."

"Thanks," Josh said.  "I'll pass that on too."

"Currently they seem to be very active in Grunmore, near Parbury City.  But that might not be their only stronghold.  I'd keep an eye out for Fa'Rana activity on your field trip too," Niall advised.  "If they realise you have ties to Daryil clan, things might not go well for you, android or not."


Mayor Dickens looked up as the door crashed open and his face became a mask of terror.  His aide, Patrick, dropped the folder he was carrying.  Both of them stood transfixed in horror at the sight of the winged grey fox who had just stormed into the room, eyes blazing with fury.

"He's here!"  Mayor Dickens shrieked and fell backwards as he tripped over his chair.  The Lord Daryil ignored him, instead making a bee-line for Patrick, but from the floor, Dickens couldn't see what happened... the only thing visible was Daryil's cruel visage.  There was a muffled cry from the fruit-bat, a flash of light and then silence.  Daryil turned his gaze upon the llama.

"Mayor Dickens," he called out, his voice tinged with anger.  "Come here.  I want a word with you."

"I... Milord... I didn't do anything!  You had Grunmore... exactly as promised!  We kept nothing back!  No, no!  You can have the city... Please don't kill me..."

"Quiet," Daryil snapped, and lifted the llama back to his feet.  "Listen to me, Mayor.  Patrick is dead and you'll be next unless you..."

"No, no!" the llama wailed.  "Take the city.... all of it, just let me live..!"

"Shut up," Daryil shouted, and glanced down at the figure at his feet.  "Actually, maybe this will show you."

He dragged the Mayor roughly to the other side of the desk, where Patrick lay crumpled on the ground.  Only he wasn't a fruit-bat anymore.

"P... Patrick... was a succubus?" the llama gurgled, staring at the unconscious leopard on the floor.

"Patrick's dead," Daryil repeated with a sad sigh.  "This little bitch murdered him and took his place.  It must have been done recently, because he was definitely a Being during our negotiations."

"Not one of your clan...?" the Mayor said, a hopeful expression in his eyes.  It faded quickly - if it was a Daryil succubus, he was probably doomed...

"No.  I came here to warn you, Mayor.  Grunmore has been infiltrated by Fa'Rana's clan, and they have presumably done the same in Parbury itself.
"Now, I don't know if you heard about Arnold's murder, but we found one a feather belonging to the assassin's controller.  We were able to identify them by their DNA.

"I came here to warn you that they are likely to try and take over Parbury.  Unfortunately it seems I was little too late," he said, glancing down at the succubus.  "I'm so sorry about your aide."

"What... what should I do...?" the llama asked.

"Go into hiding," Daryil said.  "I can protect you.  In the meantime, I'm afraid I'll have to take your role."

The Mayor's eyes narrowed for a moment.

"Gods Dammit," Daryil snapped.  "Haven't we been through this already?!  I'm not trying to steal your city, I'm trying to save your life!  You do want to be saved, right?"

"I'm sorry," the llama said.  "It's just..."

"Look, nevermind," Daryil said, scooping up the succubus and draping her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  He hesitated for a moment and then dumped her into a nearby chair.  "We can go over this later.  First I must teleport you to safety, and then revive Miss Patrick here."

"Revive... you're not letting her go?!" the Mayor exclaimed.  "After what she's done...?"

"Well, yes," Daryil said.  "I'll ward the door first, then I can revive her.  She should be out for a while yet..."

"But why?"

"Because if I capture her, her masters will know," Daryil said patiently.  "And that will spoil things.  I need to revive her and make her forget any of this happened.  See, I want to watch what she does, up to the point where she'll try and kill you too.  Or me, I should say."

"What?!"

Daryil turned himself into a passable copy of the llama.  "Like I said, I'll take your place.  What you're talking to now is an avatar of me, a remotely-controlled projection of my true self.  A handy tri-wing trick," he added.
"So.  When they try to dispose of you, it will actually be this avatar they're attacking.  Even as a projection I'm more than a match for her," he gestured at the unconscious feline.

"So, how do you look?" he added, removing his shirt.


"Well," Professor Falkirk said, "This is the village.  Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes," some of the students said.  "No," said the others.  The Professor rounded on them with a sly smile.

"I'd like everyone who said 'yes' to go over there, everyone who said 'no' over there.  Those who don't care can stay where they are."

"Why?" Richard demanded.

"The camping trip is a way for the staff to get to know us," Sheila said.

"I wouldn't put it so... bluntly, but yes, there is an element of truth in that," Professor Falkirk said.  "Now, Mike?  You voted 'no'?"

"Well," the osprey griffin said, "I grew up in the country.  It's kind of boring."

"Very good.  Daniel, you like it?"

"I grew up in the country as well," the Doberman said.  "It reminds me of home."

"Sydney?"

"Well, I grew up in a town, mostly.  It's nice to get away from the hustle and all the grey stone and concrete..."

"Sheila?"

"City girl," the Border said.  "I guess... well, I mean, I suppose it does have a certain quaint charm to it, but... well, there can't be a library around here for miles," she protested, a note of desperation entering her voice.

"Very good.  I think that will do for now," the poodle said, and entered the inn.  "Excuse me, can..."  The professor stopped in mid-sentence and his back-wings fluffed out.  He rapidly started backing out of the doorway and as they watched, the students saw that he was actually being driven out by someone else, a wolf succubus with leathery red wings.

"Professor Falkirk, I presume?" Lady Finch said.  "Pleased to meet you at last.  Now... tell me your decision."

Wow, did they ever step into it!

They might have even walked into Fa'Rana settlement. Bad luck.

Let's hope that Daryil's plan works out better.

Quote from: joshofspam on September 01, 2012, 03:36:28 PM
Let's hope that Daryil's plan works out better.

It'll take a while for that to unfold.  But hopefully the business with Richard's mark will be a bit clearer now.

Chapter 21

"Well...?" Lady Finch asked.  "Will you hand over Sydney of your own free will?"

"I... can't," Professor Falkirk said, and behind him the other two members of staff stiffened and began to prepare combat spells.  "He is under my care.  As acting headmaster, I am honour-bound to protect my students."

"We need him," Lady Finch said.  "And we will have him.  If that means killing you... we will do it, reluctantly.  I have only to think and half a dozen robotic enforcers will warp in.  If that happens, students will likely die... students in your care, whom you are honour-bound to protect.  You have to weigh it up," she said.
"Losing one student - who we need alive and well - against having several students killed.
"And I need not mention that we are under no obligation to keep staff alive," she said quietly, looking the poodle straight in the eye.  "Indeed, taking you out first would be a strategic advantage."

"Do you understand, even slightly, what would happen to you if I were murdered?"  Professor Falkirk asked.  His face was completely calm except for his violet eyes, which were hard as steel and twice as cold.
"Do you think for one moment, that Lord Daryil would just shrug off the fact that you killed one of his clan and used lethal force against young students of the school he helped found?
"Daryil would have your souls for that," he said mildly.  "His rage would be unspeakable, his vengeance against your clan dire.  He'd likely put the crystals containing your souls into orbit, imprisoned for billions of years until Furrae's sun expands and consumes them, long past the point where your minds had disintegrated from sheer loneliness..."

Lady Finch's fur fluffed out, and her wings became tentacles.  "Silence!" she screamed.  "Neutralising Daryil is the entire point of..."

"Stop it!" Sydney yelled.  "I surrender!  I'll come with you... just let the others go!"

"No!" Sheila yelped, along with the headmaster and several students, but he brushed them all aside.

"I have to," he said quietly.  "It's more important that the rest of you are safe.  If they need me alive... well, one day they may let me go.  Just make..." he swallowed.  "Try to make sure my family don't try anything rash..."  Sheila nodded and tried to hide her tears.

"I'm glad one of you has seen sense," Lady Finch said, calming herself.  "Come here, child.  Richard, you too.  We shall find you another school, one more suited to your talents..."

"If any school will agree to take him after this," Professor Falkirk retorted.  The wolf succubus just smiled at him silkily, as her warp-aci began to surround her and her charges with a band of orange light.


Professor Falkirk sat in a corner of the Prancing Penguin, nursing a large drink which smelled vaguely of lemons.  He had chosen a table far from the others and seemed to be trying to keep to himself.

"Professor," Sheila said, touching him on the shoulder.  Falkirk spun around with a snarl.  "Leave me be..." he began.  "Oh, it's you."

"Please, Professor, come back.  We need you."

"For what?" he wailed, "I let Sydney go, I broke my oath to protect my students!"

"You did what you had to, Headmaster," Sheila said.  "It was a tough choice, but..."

"I'm not your headmaster anymore," the poodle interrupted.  "I quit.  I've failed in my duty to protect you.  Professor Jevex should take over."

"No," Professor Jevex said, forcefully.  "That madwoman wasn't bluffing.  She was quite prepared to kill her way to Sydney.  If it had come to that, then you would have failed.  Letting Sydney go was the right thing, and I'm sure Illiath will back you up when she returns."

"We'll see," the poodle said dolefully.

"Professor," Sheila said, "What happened tonight was awful.  But you can salvage most of it by leading us to safety.  You had to make a terrible choice back then, but it's what Sydney wanted, he said so himself.  It's not your fault, and you haven't failed.  But please, you can't just abandon the rest of us now... Could you really live with yourself after that?"

"You're quite right, Sheila," he said after a moment, and sat up.  "I'm sorry I let my emotions get the better of me.  But what do you suggest we do now?"

"Our first priority must be to get our students to a place of safety until such time as the school can be reopened," Professor Jevex said.

"You're right, of course," Professor Falkirk said, sitting up and composing himself.  "Fa'Rana clan may decide they want to, uh, 'collect the set', so to speak.  In any case, we have Nicholaus to think of as well.  He must be protected from Jyraneth if at all possible."

"How do we do this, Professor?" Sheila asked.

"I don't know," the incubus admitted, "But I know a man who will.  I must contact my Leader."

"Please do it soon," Professor Shreve said.  "It's getting dark..."


Daryil was in the disused meeting-room again when Jakob found him, the cool aura of mental clarity that washed over him as he approached was a giveaway that it really was Lord Daryil himself and not one of his projections.  The fox appeared to be putting the finishing touches to a neat stack of soup boxes where the fort had been and then, after some deliberation he took one of the boxes and opened it up, placing it on the floor.

"Come and look at this," he said.  Jakob did.  "I wouldn't stand too close, though," he warned.  Jakob didn't.

Daryil stood back a few more paces and waggled his fingers at the box like a magician performing some sensational trick.  At that moment, every single packet of soup inside the box simultaneously exploded for no apparent reason.

"Gods, Daryil!  What did you do that for?!"  Jakob said, his wings fluffed out.

"Haven't you ever wondered what noise it would make if you did that?"  Daryil asked him, casually removing the wolf's shirt.

"Sometimes," Jakob admitted wistfully, as if he wished he'd done it himself.

"So, was there something you wanted?"  Daryil asked, somehow folding the shirt into a paper boat.

"Yes, but I can't remember what it was now," Jakob said.

"You were wondering if I'd heard about Arnold's new body being given preliminary approval, subject to background checks," Daryil said.

"Yes, that was it," Jakob said.  "But I wish you wouldn't do that.  The fact that just talking to you means you suddenly know all my recent experiences, my sex life, everything... it's still kind of creepy."

"Leader's privilege," Daryil said dreamily.

"What, that by ascending, you get free porn?" Jakob asked, sarcastically.

"Free porn of your family," Daryil retorted, making a face.  "It can be a real drag.  I mean, okay, folks like you or Nigel... I mean sure, I call all my clan members my children, but really you're like... distant cousins tenth removed.  Besides, you have really cute butts, and it's been kind of fun when I see myself in it too.
"But Lillith and Jezebel..?  They're my daughters, my direct descendants.  You think I really care to know what kind of humping they like...?"

"Eww, eww, ewww..." Jakob said, backing away.

"I guess it's something we'll all have to get used to," Daryil said, and brushed his hair back.

"Look," he said after a pause, "If my being able to see your memories really bothers you, I can show you how to block it.  Alternatively I could hide in the basement for the rest of time and communicate only via avatar projections, but frankly that would be really crappy."

"True," Jakob said.  "But blocking it..?  Is that safe?"

"I'm not Jyraneth," Daryil said.  "Did you know that she used to do this thing where her members were obliged to attend a special ceremony every ten years?  It was so that she could absorb their knowledge and find out who's been having any heretical thoughts..."

Jakob blanched and took a step backwards, thanking the gods that he hadn't been born into Jyraneth's clan, and not for the first time.

"...and Her inquisition checked for heresy in between," Daryil finished.  "But as you may have noticed, Clan Daryil doesn't have an inquisition.  Well, I don't think I do. If there is one, it's so superbly concealed that even I don't know about it, but that's not the point.
"What I mean is, even if I do have an inquisition dedicated to sniffing out heretics and traitors within my clan that I've somehow forgotten all about, I really can't see you turning violently against me or your clan-mates."

"Thanks, Daryil," Jakob said, and for a moment had to struggle to avoid getting all teary-eyed over his Leader's trust and faith in him.  After the Johan Cross incident, trust was such a hard thing to come by...

"What I'm saying is," the fox continued, "If you want to block that particular faculty we can try something out.  Be warned that it may also make you weaker and it will definitely prevent me from locating you or coming to your aid in times of dire need, so I don't recommend prolonged use.  There are definite drawbacks."

"Agreed," Jakob said, "Though I'm curious now.  It might be interesting to experiment with, if it's not permanent, just to see if it works.  But you're right... I should just stick with-"

At that moment, the wall screen chimed.

"My Lord," Professor Falkirk began with a bow, "I apologise for disturbing you, but we have a bit of a problem."


"Excellent," Lady Finch said as they arrived in their Grunmore base.  "Richard, you will come with me.  We have most of your belongings from the school, at some point we need to go over them and see what's missing and what doesn't belong to you.  And we will also have to prepare your application to SAIA."

"Johan," she said, addressing a feline incubus nearby.  "This young man here... take him to the waiting room.  The Professor will send for him when he is ready."

Johan gulped but recovered swiftly and bound Sydney's wrists to prevent escape.  "Very well, my lady," he said.  Turning to Sydney, he added "Off to see The Professor, eh?  Well, kid, it's been nice knowing you."

"Who is The Professor...?" Sydney quavered.  "What does he teach?"

"Death," Johan said simply.  "He's a very good teacher."


Joshua sat on a bench in the outskirts of the shopping district of central Marlbury, not far from the police station where Sonia or one of her sisters had committed an appalling act of mass-murder.

Some had demanded the death penalty for the equine murderess whenever she was finally caught, and the local laws did allow for this in extreme circumstances.  This power was not often exercised, partly because the bar was set quite high, but also because - in the event of a miscarriage of justice - the judge, jury and prosecutor would very quickly find themselves in the guillotine for having deliberately conspired to kill an innocent man or woman.  As a result, few were willing to stake their lives in this manner.

Joshua shook his head as he thought about it - the massacre was unquestionably a gross enough crime to attract such a harsh sanction, but if Jakob and Daryil were correct, execution would pose no deterrent since the killer was a machine.

Josh was a machine himself of course, but there was a critical difference.  He was an android, and he had been alive in the past.  He was arguably alive now and any 'Cubi or similar Creature could testify that he was unquestionably sentient, with the soul of a Being.
Sonia, on the other hand, was nothing more than a complex computer program running inside a Von Neumann machine and as such there wasn't really anything to be executed other than the unending flow of instructions within her brain, so to speak.  She could only be destroyed, not punished, and since she was a proxy the chances of the authorities locating her controllers within their jurisdiction was practically nil.

The husky looked up again, chiding himself for daydreaming when he should be looking out for Haley.  According to his queries, she came through this part of the city centre twice every workday to catch a bus and return home afterwards.
It was almost time... he couldn't risk missing her because he was distracted by some internal debate.

He glanced around once again, and...

"Holy..." a voice cried out.  He stared back at her.  "Is it... Joshua...?"

"Haley?"  The word came out stupidly, he was still too struck with disbelief at the sight of the female malamute before him to think of something more sensible to say.

"Oh my gods, it is you... they told me you were dead!"

"You were definitely dead," he gurgled.  "I called the paramedics myself..."

"Oh, don't be like that, darling," she soothed as she led the shell-shocked husky away.  "Come with me, I'll tell you all about it..."

I've checked the weather forecast Doom & Gloom for the week end.

Things aren't looking to good for Sydney.

Though one has to wonder if Joshua just walking with his once dead friend is such a good idea. If Finch's group was working on their own robots, whats the chances the might have worked out their own androids as well?

Aw, no comments on that conversation between Daryil and Jakob :3  I was expecting at least a little controversy after Sofox' reaction to it.

Quote from: Tapewolf on September 09, 2012, 02:34:50 PM
Aw, no comments on that conversation between Daryil and Jakob :3  I was expecting at least a little controversy after Sofox' reaction to it.

Daddy Daryil knowing what his daughters are up too?

Somehow that paints an image of instead of Daryil waiting at the front door with a shotgun, it would have him popping out of the toilet bowel with it and repeating the same old line of taking care of his little girl.

Of coarse he'd flush himself gone only to have an arm come out of the reservoir and seal the stopper and give one last reminder to leave the seat down for her.

Quote from: joshofspam on September 09, 2012, 05:04:40 PM

Quote from: Tapewolf on September 09, 2012, 02:34:50 PM
Aw, no comments on that conversation between Daryil and Jakob :3  I was expecting at least a little controversy after Sofox' reaction to it.

Daddy Daryil knowing what his daughters are up too?

Somehow that paints an image of instead of Daryil waiting at the front door with a shotgun, it would have him popping out of the toilet bowel with it and repeating the same old line of taking care of his little girl.

Of coarse he'd flush himself gone only to have an arm come out of the reservoir and seal the stopper and give one last reminder to leave the seat down for her.

Somehow that's even more terrifying.

Quote from: joshofspam on September 09, 2012, 05:04:40 PM

Quote from: Tapewolf on September 09, 2012, 02:34:50 PM
Aw, no comments on that conversation between Daryil and Jakob :3  I was expecting at least a little controversy after Sofox' reaction to it.

Daddy Daryil knowing what his daughters are up too?

Somehow that paints an image of instead of Daryil waiting at the front door with a shotgun, it would have him popping out of the toilet bowel with it and repeating the same old line of taking care of his little girl.

Of coarse he'd flush himself gone only to have an arm come out of the reservoir and seal the stopper and give one last reminder to leave the seat down for her.

Oh god I wish I had the free time this week to draw stuff

Quote from: Merlin on September 11, 2012, 08:22:52 AM
Oh god I wish I had the free time this week to draw stuff

Heh, well his daughters are silver foxes, much like him only female.  Not that Daryil is the most manly-looking fox ever to walk Furrae anyhow.

Quote from: joshofspam on September 09, 2012, 05:04:40 PM
Daddy Daryil knowing what his daughters are up too?

Well, the "Free porn - but of your own family" thing was the bit I was most amused by when I was writing it, but yes.

Chapter 22

Sydney stared glumly at the walls of the cell.  He could only just make them out, the only illumination was ambient light from the adjacent corridor... his escort had thrown off the light switch in the holding area as soon as the fox was safely imprisoned.

Sydney appeared to be the only prisoner in the place, and while he was grateful that he didn't have to deal with the smell of a dungeon filled with unwashed or diseased prisoners, he was also a little frustrated - being able to talk to someone would help pass the time and at least give him some idea of who he was dealing with.  Perhaps it really was just a holding area, and prisoners were later transferred to other prisons scattered around their facility or facilities...

Or maybe they execute their prisoners, a nasty voice was saying in the back of his mind.  That would also explain why there was no-one to talk to...

Gradually Sydney became aware that it was getting lighter inside the holding area.  He glanced at the corridor... it was probably someone opening the outer door, guards come to retrieve him and take him to the dread Professor's study...

At that moment he realised it was not coming from the corridor, but behind him, inside his own cell.  A pinpoint of light had appeared on one of the walls and it was spreading.  It became a line, the line traced a rectangular arc across the wall and suddenly it opened, a doorway into a blindingly white room.

A gateway to Heaven...? he wondered, and for a moment was scared to enter in case it was, that by stepping into the portal only his soul would go through, leaving behind just a surprised-looking corpse in the mortal realm...

"Hurry up," a voice was saying, "It won't last long!  Just come through, it will be fine!  It won't hurt you!"

The fox dithered for a little longer and then plunged through the doorway.

"Thanks," he said, blinking in the light, "I have no idea what those crazies were going to do to me, but it sounded violent..." he froze as he took in the room.
Richard and Lady Finch were looking at him, faces like stone.  In front of them was a raccoon incubus in a white laboratory smock.

"Hello there, Sydney," he said kindly.  "You've already met Richard and Lady Albeth Finch.  I am Professor Fa'Rana."


"Welcome to the Arctic, ladies and gentlemen," Jakob said.  "I am Jakob Pettersohn.  Our facility here was originally intended to be a complete research campus, but that turned out to be unnecessary as we managed to solve the remaining problems earlier than expected, so much of it has been left empty.  Daryil suggested that we bring you here since it is safe and secure.  Though I must remind everyone that the restricted areas are off-limits for your own safety as the complex does include a number of industrial facilities.
"In particular I must ask that you do not annoy our security panthers.  They were informed of your status as guests, but they can still be dangerous so do not provoke them.  Now... does anyone have any questions before we continue?"

"Yes," Daniel Kamei'Sin asked, staring at Jakob, who was wearing just a pair of leather jeans.  "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?  Is there a dress code we have to follow?"

"Pants," Jakob said, "You should wear at least trousers or something like that.  Usually I'd wear a shirt too, but Daryil may often steal them," he glanced down at himself briefly.  "I would strongly recommend against going naked as it is liable to send the wrong message to my Leader."

"When will the school re-open?" Sheila asked.  Jakob looked at her with a sour expression and his headwings drooped.

"I'm not sure," he said.  "It can't re-open until the Fa'Rana troops have vacated the premises and it's been swept for traps, which may take a couple of weeks by itself.  So far, they're continuing to occupy it and have only released some of the staff they are holding.  We're not yet sure whether their promise to return the school was a flat-out deception or whether they want to be sure of something first..."

"Like whether it's really Syd they've nabbed, or an impostor?"  Mike suggested.

"Probably," Jakob told the osprey gryphon.  "That's something I'll touch on later."

"So, er, could we continue our education here, then?"  Sheila asked hopefully.  Some of the younger students scowled slightly at this.

"That's being talked about," Jakob said, "But we do have reservations about that.  You see, right from day one, Daryil has been rather concerned that people would see the school as a sinister plot of his, like it was some weird means to brainwash young, impressionable 'Cubi or to drive them into some kind of cheerful insanity.  This is why the school has always been a joint venture with other clans, and relocating the school to Daryil Clan territory may undermine this."

"So how long are we likely to be holed up here?  Could we just go home for now?" a mountain lion succubus asked.

"That's up to Professor Falkirk, I think," Jakob said.  "And/or Illiath herself, when she gets back in touch.  Personally, I think leaving would be unwise, since we have good reason to believe that the Fa'Rana clan kidnapped Sydney in the belief that he was Daryil's son."

"What?!" several voices cried, from students and staff alike.

"That's what I've heard when they tried to capture me, anyway.  It might have been a feint, but if it is true, they will soon realise their mistake and may very well come back for more.  They might even have the balls to try and capture all of you in turn, just to make sure.  Daryil's actual children are somewhere safe, but the Fa'Rana guys don't know that..."

Just then, Niall entered the room and spoke to Jakob briefly.

"Sheila Ketonia," the wolf called out, making the succubus jump.  "Would you come with Niall, here?  Lord Daryil wishes to speak with you."


"W... what do you want with me...?" Syd gibbered, as The Professor stepped closer.

"You are here because we need control over your father, Sydney," the raccoon said.  "He who must remain nameless for our own safety.  You are the last child he can possibly have, as I'm sure you know, and that makes you extremely valuable to him.  By extension, that also makes you extremely valuable to us."

"Why?" Syd asked, incredulously.  "What's he ever done to you?!  Is this some stupid vendetta?"

"Oh, nothing so trivial," The Professor laughed.  "His clan is an old rival to ours, yes, but he has recently become a major threat to us and our interests.  The work we are doing here is of supreme importance to the entire 'Cubi race, but some factions, such as... your father's clan, are opposed to us.  They seek to prevent our project from succeeding for various petty reasons of their own.
"You see, Sydney, your father is currently one of the key threats to our success, and for the good of our whole race we need to get him to back off until we have completed our research.
"You, Sydney, are the lever we will use against him.  He will not dare attack while we have you hostage and that will buy us time to finish our project, after which we can let you go again.  That's really all we want, and I'm sure he'll see reason.  If he doesn't, well... at the end of the day you're a fellow 'Cubi, so I really don't want to have to hurt you, but as a last resort... well, ultimately it's up to him."

Sydney stared at the raccoon as if he was completely insane.

"What are you talking about?" he said at last.  "I can't believe this.  My dad simply isn't that important in the grand scheme of things.  Why would anyone want to bother blackmailing D-"

"Don't say his name!" The Professor hissed, his eyes widening with horror.  "He'll hear!  The link to his children... he'll attack us and it's too soon... I'll kill you right now if that happens!"

"You're mad," Sydney said, backing away.  "All of you.  I don't have any magical link to him, I can't do!  He's a robot, for heaven's sake!"

"If I'm mad, I should be humoured... What did you just say?!"

"He died about 25 years ago!"

The Professor's expression became wild.  "Lies, that's impossible!" he snarled.  "Your so-called Lord..."
At that moment, the raccoon's eyes suddenly changed, as if shutters had gone down behind them and he glanced at the other two.  "Find it," he said, voice devoid of expression.

Lady Finch took hold of Sydney, gently but firmly.  The fox struggled slightly as she unbuttoned his trousers and her tentacles pinned his hands back.  Richard watched the performance for a few moments and then turned away, his ears turning pink with embarrassment as his fellow student was disrobed.

"It's on my leg," Sydney said sullenly as he realised what they were doing.   The she-wolf's wings fanned out as she saw his clan mark and she stepped back, her voice ringing out in a wordless cry of surprise.

"RICHARD!" Lady Finch raged, "What have you done?!  This isn't him... he's a Jyraneth!"

"Yeah," Richard said.  "Kinda.  They're breakaways allied with Daryil."

"You tool," The Professor said.  "What is it they say...?  Never work with children or animals..."

"What..?  He matched all your descriptions!"  Richard yelped.

"Do those look even slightly like Daryil's wings?!" his mother snapped.

"You didn't tell me you were trying to kidnap Daryil's son!" Richard snarled back.  "You told me to look out for a pro-Daryil fox, who didn't know he was a 'Cubi until recently, who lived by Daryil's Tenets, who was happy to go for another guy and who was brought up by a Being!  Syd is all of those things!"

Lady Finch stepped fowards and for a moment it looked as if she was about to hit Richard.  There was a small cough behind her.

"Can I go now...?" Sydney asked quietly, putting his leathers back on.  The others stared at him as if he'd suddenly appeared out of thin air.

"I'm afraid not," The raccoon sighed after a few moments.  "You know too much now, and if I understand Richard correctly, you're one of Daryil's allies anyway.
"We can't risk you contacting Him so you'll have to remain here for the time being.  But it should only be a couple of months, I think.  I do apologise for the inconvenience."


"Yes," Haley was saying as they left the bus, "For some time I was dead.  But they put my body into stasis until a couple of years ago, when they had the know-how to restore me to life."

"You mean... they made you into an android?"  Joshua asked.

"No," the malamute said, with a slight chuckle.  "In the flesh.  All they had to do was repair the damage and restart my heart.  Easy when you know how, or so I'm told."

Joshua looked impressed, but all the same a few warning lights had lit up within his mind.  Shortly after his own resurrection, the husky had been through a major mental crisis and had reacted with shock or horror to every little thing like a young incubus, but those days were past and he was able to keep his doubts safely locked away inside himself.

"It must have been quite a shock," he said.  "Did you... have you found someone else?"

Haley smiled nervously.  "I did actually, but it didn't really pan out.  How... about you...?"

"No," Joshua said.  "It... finding you dead was devastating... you wouldn't understand it if it hadn't happened to you...  I guess I never really got over it," he sighed.  "It's one of the things that pushed me deeper into my work, trying to block it all out...  I guess... I guess I had another motive, too."

"I think I understand," she said slowly, and with some concern.

"Yeah.  I figured that I didn't have anything to lose anymore... that," he swallowed, "The more dangerous the missions became, it was a dare against the world.  And that when I was finally called out... well... we'd be together again."

Haley said nothing, but a tear formed in one eye and she squeezed his hand tightly.

I feel sad for Josh there's a lot of warning signs saying this won't end well. Also nice fake out on Daryil's son remember to word one's orders more carefully.

A lot of warning signs, yes. But the scene is touching nonetheless.

I chuckled when I read the dress code was "pants". Makes sense, even though PF characters have been shown in their underpants so many times it's almost become a meme.

Quote from: Gabi on September 15, 2012, 01:55:41 PM
I chuckled when I read the dress code was "pants". Makes sense, even though PF characters have been shown in their underpants so many times it's almost become a meme.

In this case he did actually mean 'trousers' rather than underpants...

On the road, missed my usual update time.  Have to be fast before the train arrives :3


Chapter 23

Sheila became nervous as Niall led her down the corridor, and she began to do frantic things to her hair each time they passed a window.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?" the fox asked her, "If you really want to tidy yourself, that might be much more effective."

"And keep Him waiting...?" the Border collie squeaked.  "Not on your life!"

Niall didn't bat an eyelid.  "Calm down, it'll be fine,"  he said.  "You're not in trouble, and it's not a formal meeting.  He just wants a friendly chat with you about what's happened.  He might want to record the conversation, mind."

"I know, it's just...  Well, reading about Him and His clan in the abstract is one thing, actually meeting a Tri-wing face-to-face, I'm not sure I can!  Suppose He takes offence... He'll crush me like bug...!"

"Oh, you're thinking of that business at Mundesberg?" he chuckled.  "Dar was doing that for a very good reason... to try and make them rethink killing 'Cubi.  He doesn't go around stomping buildings flat for shits and giggles, whatever the media might think."

"Thanks," Sheila said wanly.  "I guess... I guess I know, but all the same, he's so powerful it's frightening..."

"Seriously, don't worry about it," Niall said, and held the door open for her.

"...aren't you coming...?" she swallowed.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically.  "I've got stuff to be getting on with."


Sheila became aware of a strange sensation as she entered the high-vaulted room.  Everything seemed clearer and sharper, but although she could think clearly and precisely, it didn't help dampen the fear.  She found herself closing her eyes as she entered the door, terrified of what she might see when her eyes finally met the Lord Daryil in all his might and majesty.  When she opened them, there was nothing to see but the light fixtures on the ceiling, and one or two crates of what claimed to be toilet paper.

"Down here," a voice called out, and she lowered her gaze down the room.  Far from the titanic figure she was expecting, Daryil could have been any other 'Cubi, maybe just a little taller.  He didn't even have hip-wings.  The border collie stood there quivering and fighting the urge to turn and flee.

In a clearing surrounded by racks of boxes and crates, Daryil sat upon an unremarkable deck chair, expensive knee-length boots resting casually on the table.  He was dressed in a black leather cloak lined with fur and some expensive clothes of leather and silk, which Mayor Dickens could have recognised as being made by the same tailor as Jakob's emissary outfit.  By contrast, the chair, the table and the other items sat upon it were completely ordinary camping equipment.

"Want some tea?" he offered.  Sheila swallowed and made an elaborate curtsey.  "My Lord, it is an honour to..."

"Um," the fox said and she looked up suddenly, positively stricken.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but could we possibly skip the whole reverence thing and get to business?"  Daryil asked her.  "I mean, yeah, it was fun at first, but it's getting kind of old now."

"Yes of course, my lord, sorry, my lord..."

"Daryil," Daryil said.  "Look, if I wanted impress you with my power, I assure you I could.  But that's a rather crass way of doing things, right?  Same reason I'm usually about six foot high instead of sixty - doing that makes my children uncomfortable.  It also makes other people gibber with terror, which is a nuisance when you're trying to conduct some kind of business deal.  Though it can come in handy for dealing with assholes like the Mundesberg government," he added.
"But aside from the shock factor, being that big is terribly inconvenient for actually, well, doing things.
"I mean, when it first happened, I thought it was rather cool.  I figured we'd never have trouble changing the lights in the warehouse again," he said, pointing at the mercury vapour bulbs suspended from the high ceiling.  "It was a disaster.  Have you ever tried picking up a soap bubble with your fingers?"

"The bulbs were like that...?" Sheila quavered.

"The fittings were like that," Daryil said.  "I didn't get as far as the bulbs."

Sheila gave a little chuckle and then looked stricken again.

"Uh, thanks," she stammered, and while it felt like the polite thing to say, she immediately wondered what she was actually thanking him for.  Daryil gave a small wave of acknowledgement, and flicked a switch on a slightly battered electric kettle.

"If it helps, we can just sit here for a while," the fox said, pouring out two cups of tea.  "Sit, and talk.  About any old crap, just to put you at ease.  When you feel calmer, I would like to know whatever you can tell me about Sydney, if that's alright with you."

"Really...?"

"Well, yes," Daryil said awkwardly, flicking on a small portable tape recorder.  "If you were of my clan, I would already know everything you know about him, but it won't work with members from other clans, or if they're talking to one of my projections, as I'm sure you know."

"I've read about it," Sheila said.  "But... If you don't mind me asking...?"

"Go ahead," Daryil said.  "Ask anything you like, I won't take offence."

"Don't you have some Daryil pupils at the school?"

"None enrolled this year," the Tri-wing said.  "There are members attending, naturally, but only in later years so they weren't part of the camping trip.  Professor Falkirk is of my clan of course, but he's been a little preoccupied with running the camp.  I've already spoken to him, and he did tell me... Well, he said that you were one of Sydney's closest friends."

Sheila stiffened with panic and her wings fanned out.  "What do you mean... 'were'...?"

"Oh no," Daryil said hastily, his own headwings fluffing slightly.  "I didn't mean to imply that he's dead!  I mean, while you were together, you and Richard spoke to Sydney most, right?  Richard, of course, not being available for questioning."

"Oh, right," Sheila said, and gave a nervous laugh.  "So you want my account?  And anything that he said about Richard?"

"Pretty much," the fox said.  "And actually, yes.  Perhaps you should start with Richard."

"Okay," the succubus said, gradually starting to relax.  "Where do you want me to start?"

Daryil leaned forwards conspiratorially, unable to suppress an eager grin.  "Was he hot?"

"I wouldn't know," Sheila said.  "I don't go for men."


The Doberman turned off at junction six of the F63 and followed the signs pointing to the town centre.  The helmet he was wearing had a smart visor, capable of darkening itself to varying degrees, and also of displaying maps and other information fed by a signal from the Furrae Positioning System.  For most bikers such a thing was a positive boon, especially on unfamiliar routes, but Dorcan kept his switched off for the most part as he didn't need it.

When Dorcan had first been reborn as an android, there were only two expansion cards to choose from - a mind shield and a cloaking system to conceal his wings.  Now there were many more, including a highly experimental one that gave the user very limited spellcasting powers.  There were other bonuses as well, some of which which made it almost worth dying for.

The android frame which Dorcan and the others were built from had an embedded computer system which was originally intended to run various diagnostic and support functions for their actual brain circuitry.  Niall and Ashley had been quick to realise that it could be made to do other things as well, and had given their 'children' the ability to know the time and perform calculations instantly as a proof-of-concept.

Since then, Jayhawk Cybernetics had released a large number of upgrade packages; one of their old allies, for instance, had a targeting and marksman program which gave him almost perfect aim, though fortunately he didn't need to use it very much these days.  Dorcan had - among other things - his own internal navmap system that put the one in the helmet to shame.  Just by looking at the signs he was instantly able to devise a route in his head, even though he hadn't been in this town for decades.

He parked the Nakami a block away, warded it and removing his helmet, strode past the town centre into a considerably less reputable area.  At Sanderson Street he stopped and glancing to make sure no-one was watching, turned into an alleyway.  Two other canines stood, also in riding gear.  They were watching, having sensed his approaching mind.

"Hi Mum, Dad..." he said, offering a pair of thickly-armoured gloves to them, which they shook warmly.

At the corner of the alleyway, where it led into a dense maze of passageways, a small group of youths had been huddled, discussing something.  Occasionally they glanced at the bikers.  With the approach of Dorcan, they came to some kind of agreement and one of them strode cockily up to Neremath.

"Hey mister," the feline said.  He was maybe 15 years old, and there was a chunk missing from one ear.  "This is Nix territory.  You pay a fee or you get the fuck out."

"Sod off, kid." Neremath told him.  The young cat snarled and drew out a wicked-looking flick-knife.

"Die, urchin," the husky sneered and a pair of wings exploded from his back, becoming a swarm of razor-sharp tentacles.  Their serrated edges gleamed pale silver in the dying sunlight.  The youth's knife clattered to the ground and was swept up by one of the incubus' tentacles.  Another tentacle passed across it, slicing the edge and the point off the blade as though he was peeling some kind of fruit.

By this time the kid was halfway down the alley, radiating sheer terror and filling the two living 'Cubi with a faint but definite yearning for more.  The rest of the gang was long gone.

"Kids these days," Neremath sighed, morphing his tentacles back into wings again but keeping them at the ready.  "No respect for their elders."  He shrugged, wondering whether Lady Jyraneth would have considered these youngsters to be innocent and sanctified.

"So," Dorcan said, glancing behind him to check for any listeners, "What's the news?  You wouldn't do any of this cloak-and-dagger crap if it wasn't important."

"It is," Neremath said, and glanced at Salomere.

"We came home this morning to find the smoke alarm going," she said.

"A house-fire?" Dorcan said, his headwings drooping.  His parents' house held centuries of photo albums, clan heirlooms and other priceless mementos.  Pictures of his dead brothers...

"No, no, no," Neremath interrupted, guessing his thoughts.  "All the photos and documents have been scanned electronically.  We have multiple copies, and the heirlooms are in a fire safe."

"It wasn't a serious fire," Salomere said.  "It was just the kitchen table."

"I didn't think that was terribly valuable," Dorcan said, slightly confused.  He had no idea where this conversation was leading.

"It was on special offer at FMI seventy years ago," Salomere said, "It matched the cupboards and it was such a bargain that... Look, that's not the point.  It... when we extinguished the flames, we saw the message.  Burned into the tabletop with holy fire."

Dorcan's mouth fell open.  "Bob...?" he asked.

"Yes," Neremath said.  "A message from the great god Bob.  He wants to meet you, but we can't talk about it here."  He glanced again at the adjoining alley which the children had fled into.  "Norland Park.  I'll call you this evening with the day and the coordinates.  But you'll need this."

Dorcan looked down to see his father's gauntleted hand, a camera's memory wafer laying upon his open palm.  From long experience Dorcan knew that it would contain an encryption key.

Leaving the secluded alley and walking down the street, the three of them exchanged casual news and chitchat for a while and then, after a long embrace, went about their separate ways.

It's rather interesting to see Daryil try to interact with others after his ascension.

In many ways, his personality gives of a harmless (if a little bit eccentric and flashy) impression of who he is. Now with his Tri-wing status, he has to try extra hard it seems to give the impression that he's easy going.

As for Bob, considering they turned down his deal, one could only wonder what he wants now.


[Fixed title, evidently I lost signal while editing the front page -TW]

"I don't go for men."


Ooo, shot down in flames, there, Dariyl. :-/

Oh sod, I forgot to update again.  It's been a rather disturbing weekend.

Chapter 24

Nick was still dressed in his tattered clothing while they sorted out a room and clothing for him.  It had not been easy for Jakob and company to deal with the sudden influx of 'Cubi all needing fresh clothes and dormitories, and Nick hadn't yet been allocated one.

Wandering around the base he came across a Being dressed in a rather expensive suit.

"Excuse me," Nick said, "Where can I find the gents?"

"Don't ask me," the llama said, "I'm new here too." he cackled slightly and Nick thought he caught a whiff of something alcoholic.  "Frederick Dickens, Mayor-in-exile of Parbury city.  What are you in for?"

"Nicholaus Worthing," the incubus said.  "And what do you mean?  I thought this place was a safe-haven... you make it sound like a prison!"

"That's what they say," the Being said, "But do you really trust them?  Daryil told me that my life was in danger and I had to go into hiding.  Now he's taken over my city!  He even healed the succubus who murdered my aide... I bet she's one of you!"

"A Jyraneth?" Nick said worriedly, and his wings fanned out in panic.  He took a few steps backwards, and so did the mayor.

"Holy gods," he said.  "You mean, you're not one of Daryil's... he's allied with Jyraneth... I should have known..."

"I didn't ask to be born one of those maniacs!"  Nick squeaked.  "They said I'd be safe from my clan here!"

"What's all this racket?"  Nigel said, rounding the corner.  He glanced from the startled incubus to the erstwhile mayor and back again.

"Mayor Dickens, stop upsetting this poor kid!" he snapped.  "He's been through quite enough!  And might I again remind you that if Daryil really wanted your city, you'd never have known about it.  If he took your place to usurp the city, he'd certainly have disposed of the real you by now."

"You say that," the llama said, hesitantly, "But..."

"We say that because it's true," Nigel said irritably.  "If you really want to play Demon Roulette with the psychopaths who had poor Arnold murdered, I'm sure that can be arranged!"

"I guess you're right," the llama said, cowed somewhat.  "But sometimes... Sometimes it all seems too convenient..."

"You'll get your office back soon," the Alsatian soothed.  "Actually, I think Daryil wants to pick your brains about something after he's spoken to Nick."

The mayor leapt backwards.  Nigel looked at the llama as if he was crazy.

"Will you please calm down?  I said 'pick', not 'pickle'.  Gods, it's a shame we don't feed on paranoia."

"Now, Nick?  For future reference, the gents are actually around the corner.  However, your room is now ready, and Daryil would like a word with you if you're up to it.  So, if you'd like to come with me...?"


Meanwhile, Nick was not the only one with new accommodation.  The Fa'Rana clan had not put Sydney back in the holding cell, but had instead furnished some empty living quarters with an old flatscreen TV set, and a selection of various books... "Confessions of a Jyraneth", a treatise on pain by Destania Cyra, Daryil's Second Book of Tenets and a miscellaneous selection of others, mostly about how the 'Cubi race is really awesome.
They had also provided a wardrobe of clothes only slightly too small for him and an en-suite shower and bathroom.  All in all, it was almost like a room in a slightly cheap hotel or perhaps a guest house - the room was, however, kept firmly locked except for when he was brought his meals.

Sydney was about halfway through a history of Piflak's clan when his ears popped.  Wondering what could possibly have caused a change in pressure like that, he looked up and saw that that a slim figure had suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, holding a device about the size of a lunchbox in two gloved hands.

"What the hell do you want?" Syd scowled.  Richard looked back at him unhappily.

"I wanted to apologise," the jackal said.  "I know it ain't much, but... they didn't tell me what they were doing.  I had no idea they wanted to kidnap you, or any of my fellow students."

"And why should I believe that?" the fox demanded.

"I don't expect you to, but it is true, one 'Cubi to another.  Heck, I shouldn't even be talking to you!  I dunno if you can forgive me, but I'd like to think that maybe one day... we might be friends again," he added hopefully.

"Friends, or bedmates?" the fox snarled.  Richard's ears turned pink, but he held his ground.

"Friends," he said firmly.  Sydney's headwings drooped and he put the book down.

"I shouldn't have said that," Syd said.  "I'm sorry I snapped.  But in all frankness... What I mean is, I have a hard time understanding why you'd want to be my friend now you're back with your clan.  Our beliefs are so very different... wouldn't you be happier among people who share them?"

Richard started and looked around quickly just in case someone else had teleported in.

"Oh yeah," Sydney said.  "Wrong clan.  Touchy subject... sorry.  But I still don't understand..."

"You were the only person I could talk to at the school," Richard said quietly.  "The others all treated me like I was a leper.  You accepted me for what I was and just put aside the things which we disagreed about.  You even came to see if I was alright after that squabble with Sheila.  No-one has ever done anything like that to me before."

Sydney swallowed.  It wasn't just what Richard had said, but the emotions he was broadcasting as well.  If the jackal was lying, he was unbelievably good at it.


Keaton Jyraneth was making her way through one of the more deserted and ornamental parts of the Munrock district shopping centre when there was a footfall behind her.  Cautiously she glanced back, but there was no-one there.  Shrugging her shoulders, she made a few quiet steps forwards and then stopped again, and turned around.  This time she saw a brief flicker of motion as someone jumped back into the shadows.

Oh hell, she thought, and quickened her pace.  Suddenly a figure jumped out from behind a tree.  Keaton gave a yelp and fled, glancing back occasionally at her pursuer.

Who the heck could it be? she wondered, picking up speed.  The person tailing her was in motorcycle gear, helmet designed for a canine skull.  The visor was reflective so it could be anyone...

Please don't let it be Sethir, she thought and made her way into the very heart of town, and with her wings hidden she blended in almost perfectly, just another black-backed jackal.  So now, if he did try to execute her or claim a bounty, he'd have to do so in a crowd, in broad daylight, in front of several Demon guards and a popular coffee shop.

Ordinarily, Keaton would be a match for anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with her, but the terms of her early release from jail included several restrictions on her powers complete with a tracking bracelet to ensure she abided by them.

The presence of security and the crowd didn't seem to faze the rider much, though he stopped running and casually drew up to the fountain she was lounging in front of.  He removed the helmet.

"Hello Keaton," the white wolf said, a grim expression on his face.  "It's time you paid your dues."  The jackal succubus gave a muffled cry and stepped backwards.

"No," she whimpered.  "You can't do this, you can't kill me!  I'm on probation!"

"Just kidding," the biker said and his face changed slighty, taking on a familiar vulpine grin.

"Daryil?!" the succubus yelped, jumping back in surprise and a little fear.  "Why the hell are you stalking me?!"

"Someone has to," Daryil said.

"Yeah, right.  You're here for a reason.  Why are you pretending to be Sethir?"

"That wasn't the plan," Daryil said.  "I was just dressed like this for fun.  And because the suit is 'Cubi-like, all shiny and snug and nice...  You know, you'd look good in this kind of gear too..." he added dreamily.
"Yeah, originally I was planning to just come up and introduce myself normally, but you were so scared I was a bounty hunter, I couldn't resist.  Sorry about that.
"Don't worry, though - Sethir won't be bothering you again."

"You killed him?"  Keaton asked eagerly.  Then her face fell as she realised that she might be next on the list.

"Of course not," Daryil said.  "But he won't bother you again unless you do something truly awful, and I don't think you're that stupid."

"Oh, so you struck a deal with him."  Keaton said, cocking her head slightly.

"Yes, your slate is clean where he's concerned," the fox said.  "But please, please try and keep things that way - he's more powerful than before and you really don't want to tangle with him.  But that's not why I'm here.  There's something we should talk about, if you're not too busy.  In private."

Keaton looked around the town centre.  One of the guards was watching idly, two patrons of the coffee shop were sipping their brew and ignoring them completely.

"Don't have much choice, right?" the jackal said at last.  "Those guards wouldn't bat an eyelid if you took me by force, would they?"

"I'm afraid not," Daryil agreed.

"Because you bribed them as well as Sethir?  Or because you're that powerful?"

"Powerful," Daryil said.  "I could drag you off kicking and screaming, and they wouldn't remember a thing.  Even the security tapes would only show us walking away... in opposite directions.
"But honestly, I'd much rather you came with me voluntarily.  It's not even like I'm trying to force you into indentured servitude or something, I just want a quick chat with you in the Jayhawk base and then you can go again if you want.  It probably won't take long."

"I'm on probation!" Keaton protested.  "You want me to teleport into the arctic?!  I'd disappear from their tracking... Shit, shit, shit... they'll never let me out again!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Daryil soothed.  "I've come to an agreement with your probation officer as well.  And for your information, I don't bribe people.  Raw political power and influence is far more subtle, far more effective and far more permanent.
"You see, the thing with corruption is that eventually it's uncovered and you'd have to start all over again, plus your reputation gets tainted into the bargain.  And in our world, money only gets you so far... reputation is king.
"Oh, and by the way... talking of reputation, if you do flip out and break the law while you're in my care, I will be called to account for it.  And that would make me very, very angry with you.  Got it?"

Keaton stepped back again and swallowed.

"But I digress.  At the end of the day, once someone can be bought, by definition they won't stay bought if someone else makes a higher offer.  No, alliances and favours are so much nicer, and usually more powerful."

"Okay, so long story short, I don't have any choice," Keaton sighed.  "Take me where you want, just make it quick, okay?"

"Deal," Daryil said, and looked around.  "...though, while we're here, we could have coffee and cakes.  Or maybe we could buy you some nice motorcycle leathers?" he added eagerly.

"You wish," Keaton snarled.

Disturbing, or disturbed?

Also: Daryil and Keaton, in a tree... ;-]



(although, knowing Daryil, he'd probably spend the time comparing the fit of various bras or something equally silly...)

Well I have to agree with Daryil that Keaton would look good in a similar biker suit. :)

Though Keaton would probably look just as good in Hell's angels biking apparel. :3
Edit: She definitely could pull off the intimidation factor in that look.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 30, 2012, 09:50:47 PM
Disturbing, or disturbed?

Someone was found dead next door a few nights after a terrible commotion.  There's been a murder enquiry and the police would look at me strangely each time I left the house.

Quote(although, knowing Daryil, he'd probably spend the time comparing the fit of various bras or something equally silly...)

Probably arrange them alphabetically by make.

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 01, 2012, 09:09:24 AM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 30, 2012, 09:50:47 PM
Disturbing, or disturbed?

Someone was found dead next door a few nights after a terrible commotion.  There's been a murder enquiry and the police would look at me strangely each time I left the house.

Ah. A friend of mine was similarly upset about 15 years back. A police officer in the fairly small town I was living in at the time apparently tied himself to a chair, threw himself through his window, and set fire to his house to claim on the insurance (not necessarily in that order); the friend comes in as a perfect match for the identikit picture the officer made up out of the whole cloth for the perpetrator. He didn't know anything about it when he sauntered down to the corner store to buy a new pack of smokes, but the guy behind the counter looked at him strangely. Apparently he went through three or four interviews with the police before they figured out what had happened (he was perfectly straightforward about it, and wasn't leaving town or anything, had several good alibis, but the police have to cover everything. Not complaining about them doing their jobs, at all; heck, they let him shave off the villainous goatee he had at the time, when he asked if they'd mind...)

Anyway. He was a gentle sort anyway, despite being 6'4 and heavily built, and inclined to wear lots of intimidating black clothing even in the middle of summer. But I can understand your state of mind, if only from a nearby perspective...

Another interesting fact to consider is Keaton and Sydney have a clan relation to one another.

Though I think only the Red Queen can only make use of that or maybe Daryil believes he can use that. At the very least we know the Red Queen is still lurking somewhere.

Maybe the Red Queen's title should be changed to Queen of Hearts.   

Aww, Richard/Sydney shipping gets a tease.  And Richie finally grew a proper spine!  And Keaton suffers villain decay, aww.  The story is getting interesting.  I wonder how Keaton will react to Nick, and how Nick will react to Daryil.

Posting an ACK because I like knowing when others have read something I have written, so it's only fair that I do the same for others. However, my brain is burnt out from yesterday's workshop and I still have so many things to do that I find myself unable to think of any relevant comments. Please accept my apology and know that I will keep reading as long as you keep posting.

Thanks to Sunblink for helping with Keaton's lines.

Chapter 25

Daryil staggered, steadying himself against the wall of the corridor just outside his office.  Keaton stared at him, puzzled and not quite sure whether to be alarmed or suspicious.  Niall happened to be heading in the other direction and rushed to his Leader's aid.

"What's the matter?" he asked frantically, and turned on the jackal succubus.  "What did you do to him, you little bitch!?"

"I didn't do anything!" Keaton snarled, glowering at Niall with a mixture of indignation and terror at what Daryil's clan would do if they thought she'd offed their Leader.

"Someone just killed me," Daryil said vaguely.  "I'll be okay... I just didn't think having my head cut off would be quite this painful."

"What are you talking about?"  Niall asked, worried that his eccentric leader had finally lost all grip on reality.  "Keaton killed you?  How?"

"Oh for gods sakes..." Keaton snapped.

"Wasn't her, it was in Parbury," Daryil said, feeling his neck with a gauntleted hand.  "They murdered my avatar, the one disguised as Dickens.  They did the tentacle thing...
"Well, maybe that will show the paranoid old coot that I'm not trying to steal his city or something. I hope he has a strong stomach, though."

"What about you, Daryil?  Are..."

"Yes.  I'm fine now," the Tri-wing said, picking himself up.  "I knew they'd do this eventually, it was just a shock, that's all... no-one's ever actually killed one of my projections before.  Perhaps I should have tried jumping off a cliff or got someone to behead me as a practice.  Anyway, you take care of the Mayor, would you?  I need to speak to Keaton."

"Actually, why is she here?"  Niall asked, eyeing the succubus with a look of suspicion, as though still convinced that she somehow shared responsibility for discomfiting his Leader.  "I mean, I'm sure you have some very good reasons, and it's probably something to do with Nick, but do you really want them together?  Isn't she a bit... evil?"

"She's evil, yes," Daryil said, dusting the knee pads on the racing suit he was still wearing from when he collected Keaton.  "But remember, evil is usually the product of someone's environment, and that's certainly the case with Keaton.
"This doesn't mean she should get a free pass to commit whatever terrible deeds she wants, but you can't rehabilitate someone without understanding what's led them down the path they've taken.
"If it hadn't been for Queen Jyraneth's mismanagement of the clan and the trauma Keaton suffered when her clan Leader's incompetence finally caught up with her, she'd have turned into a happy, well-adjusted succubus with a small museum's worth of stuffed animals.  And there's still time for that," he added, looking at Keaton.

"What do you mean, 'mismanagement'?!" the jackal demanded, hackles raising and wings fanning out.  Niall scurried away to avoid the brewing storm, but Daryil calmly stepped into his office.


Bike safely parked and warded near the entrance, Dorcan stood in an obscure corner of Norland Park and stared, open-mouthed.  There was a small crowd gathered near the copse where Bob - via Neremath - had instructed him to arrive, a small cluster of trees and bushes which appeared to be entirely surrounded by some kind of giant force barrier that lent the surrounding shrubs and grassland a sickly blue pallor.  Amongst the onlookers, park officials including an Angel and a Being with a trolley full of test equipment were stood in front of it all, examining the blue glowing dome in hopes of learning its secrets.

"No use, mate," someone told the Doberman, "Someone or something has walled off the place with this... thing."

"Gods dammit, I was going to meet someone here," Dorcan said.

"Well, good luck to you," the ranger said.  "It seems pretty solid to me.  Maybe your friend is hanging around outside the barrier somewhere?"

"I doubt it," Dorcan said, and approached the edge of the dome.  He put out a gloved hand out to touch it, but as he came close, a gap opened up as though some kind of ethereal curtain had been parted just for him.  "Holy shit..."

Cautiously, the biker went through the entrance, which abruptly sealed up behind him as he passed through, causing the ranger to face-plant into it.

"Sorry," Dorcan said, glancing back, and then realised that he couldn't hear the others gathered outside.

"Over here," a voice called out.  Dorcan gulped and strode into the thicket.

"Morning," said a small translucent figure, a pine-marten with thick glasses, bat-like head-wings and particularly scruffy hair.  "Nice gear," he added.

"Uh, thanks.  How's things going, your holiness?" Dorcan said, struggling for words.  He knelt, but that only succeeded in drawing his head level with Bob's.

"Not too bad," Bob said.  "And just 'Bob' will be fine.  Hell, you can address me as 'shithead' if it makes you feel more comfortable."

"Uh, yes, my lord.  I'm sorry I'm late," Dorcan said, head bowed.

"I know, the traffic on the F63 was murder," Bob said.  "Doesn't matter."

"You can predict the future?" Dorcan asked, astonished.

"Not very well, no.  But I saw you caught up in the snarl.  For a minute I was thinking of parting the traffic for you like the Vandermayer Seas, but it would be a bit conspicuous."

"Um," Dorcan said, gesturing uncertainly in the direction of the force barrier.

"Oh, yeah.  Like it?"

"It's very nice," the Doberman said, "But I thought... this was supposed to be a secret meeting?  And inconspicuous?  I mean... there's a whole load of people out there studying the barrier and stuff..."

"Yeah, I know.  I guess I made it a little bit too big," the mustelid said.  "Never mind, let them wonder about it.  They won't be able to hear us and anyway, an inexplicable miracle or two will do them good."

"My parents said you wanted to speak to me," Dorcan said carefully, trying to bring Bob back to the matter at hand without somehow offending him.

"Yeah," the shimmering incubus said.  "Listen carefully."


"You're talking about The Lady!" Keaton snarled.  "She bested Zalantare in single combat!  Her clan ruled the Northern Ridge for sixteen thousand years!  You call that 'mismanagement'!?"

Daryil paused for a moment, taking off the motorcycle gauntlets and boots, and considering the best way to change out of the body suit without disturbing his guest too much.  When he finally spoke, he sounded a little tired and more serious than she had ever seen him before.

"Keaton, Keaton," he began, "Please try and look at it with some sense of perspective.  You grew up in a decaying city big enough to support at least fifty times its actual population.  Your clan's numbers had dropped off sharply and since you weren't permitted to mate outside your own clan or race, the gene pool was... well, to put it politely, stagnant."

The succubus just glowered back.

"The birth rate had dropped well below the attrition rate from your stupid little raids," Daryil went on.  "So low, in fact, that you and your sister were considered a minor miracle - and all this was a direct result of your Leader's broken policies.  If she had only displayed enough wit to open up to the outside world instead of constantly lashing out at it, your clan would have been a wonder of the 'Cubi race!
"Instead, she destroyed any dissenters and that is why your clan fell.  It's been proven throughout history that clans with a totalitarian leader always break down and the most amazing thing is that she kept it going as long as she did.
"Even if the Kamei'Sin hadn't attacked, your clan would have had a revolution by now anyway because the whole thing was falling apart from the inside.
"Listen, Keaton... I'm not trying to be mean about this, but please, just look at it logically.  Can you honestly say that any of Jyraneth's major policies were a good idea?"

"They kept us out of the Dragon Wars," Keaton retorted.

"I'll give you that," Daryil conceded, "But it was about the only real success she had, and remaining closed afterwards was a fatal mistake.  Frankly, you'd probably have been killed in a raid by now.  Do you really believe that her orders were divine commandments?  Would you really have been happy to sacrifice your own life just to wipe out a handful of Beings?
"And for the record, killing Zalantare was probably Jyraneth's crowning moment of stupid, since his lover went completely apeshit and ultimately murdered practically your entire clan simply to get his trapped soul back.  And for what?   How can you not call that 'mismanagement'?"

Furious, Keaton opened her mouth, closed it again and stared at the floor for a few seconds.  "I guess you're right," she said sullenly, lip curling.  "Lesson learned.  Are you done shitting on my clan's memory?  Can I go now?"

"You can go if you want," Daryil said, "But I wanted your help."

"Help?" Keaton yelled, "Sure you did...!  You only brought me here because you wanted to kick me around!"

Daryil's expression soured, and the succubus took a step or two back, heart pounding like a steamhammer.  Oh shit, oh shit... I crossed the line!

"Keaton," Daryil said at last, "This may come as a shock to you and I'm not sure you'll believe me anyway... but I do actually care about your wellbeing.  You're practically an orphan, and you've had a horrific time during that period of your life when most other 'Cubi would have been safely nurtured inside SAIA or some similar institution.
"If you could only settle down and choose a more peaceful way of life like most 'Cubi do in the end, it would please me greatly.  Heck, even adventuring would allow you to channel your dangerous energies in a more beneficial manner.  But if you keep on randomly murdering Beings or otherwise annoying them, you'll just get yourself killed and that would be a shocking waste of talent and potential."

The jackal looked up at Daryil, a picture of surprise.  She felt a lump in her throat and her eyes began to sting slightly.  Blinking for a few moments, she shook herself and stared back at Daryil, levelly.

"You're more powerful than I can easily imagine," she said slowly.  "What sort of help could I give you anyway?"

"Well, it's kind of like this," Daryil said.  "I've recently bought a house in Grunmore and I'm having a bit of trouble with my delphiniums."

"Delphiniums?!  Do I look like a gardener?"

"My dear, this is Grunmore we're talking about.  A gardener in Grunmore needs to have your considerable skill and experience in combat and self-defence.  'Cubi mental powers are a distinct bonus.  You'd be ideal for it, particularly as I heard you studied botany in prison."

Keaton grunted.  "What do you really want?" she asked.

"Oh yeah.  Actually I wanted to tap your expertise on Jyraneth Clan," Daryil said.  "On the Lady Herself, in fact."

Keaton's wings fanned out.  "W-what do you want to know?"

"Later.  But before we get that that, I want you to meet someone."

"Who?"  Keaton demanded nervously.

"One of my Children has come across a young incubus, and I would say that you are closely related.  He's of your clan, you see."

He handed the succubus a small portrait shot... Keaton's heart leapt as she saw the youth.

"T-take me to him," she said, hands trembling as she clutched at the print.

"In a minute, when you're calmer... I don't want you to spook the guy, he's only young.  In the meantime, I can show you the garden, if you're interested in a steady job.  That would score quite a few points with your probation officer, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," the jackal nodded.  Her eyes narrowed slightly as she caught her breath.  "What's the catch?"

"Good girl," Daryil said, flashing a slightly devious grin and putting the boots back on again.  "Well, there's the usual stuff like not murdering people, all the stuff covered by your probation already.  But no, there is one other thing... Never, ever try to enter the house itself, since it's filled to the roof with ten millimetre nylon washers."

"That's fair," Keaton said, and closed her eyes for a few moments, steadying herself emotionally.  Daryil waited patiently until the succubus opened her eyes again.

"Okay," she said, "The trick with delphiniums is that they like plenty of..."


"So," Haley said, looking at Joshua earnestly.  "I... I don't quite know how to put this, but... well, we could start over," she said.  "If you want... Go back to where we left off..."

Joshua's face was contorted for a moment.  At last he opened his eyes again.

"My last mission," he said, "When you heard I was dead, it wasn't far from the truth.  It's left me changed, I don't know how much good I'd be for you now..."

"What are you saying, Josh?" the malamute said, eyes widening.

"I... I'll never be able to have kids.  I'm... I'm not really a Being anymore."

"You mentioned androids," Haley said.  "They made you into one?"

"Yeah," Josh admitted, head bowed.  "I was dead.  So, you see... I don't know how much that means to you, but I'll never be the same again.  So I don't know... how much that's likely to affect... things between us," he swallowed.
"A lot of water has flowed under that bridge.  They always say that you can never go back to how things were..."

"Oh," Haley said, "But you can."

Ominous lighting strike & thunder anybody.

Washers? Exsqueeze me? the hell you want ten million nylon washers for? Other than filling an otherwise obscure house in Grunmore, that is...


And yes, ominous thunder grumbles overhead.

I think you have answered your own question: the sound of all those washers working together would be much like ominous thunder, wouldn't it?

Other than that... I could say money laundry, but that's not the right way to do it. Not that there is a right way. :P

Chapter 26

"Oh shit," Mayor Dickens said, staring at the screen as the two succubi dumped the corpse unceremoniously behind the desk, followed swiftly by what appeared to be his own head.  One of them pointed at it, asking a question.  The audio came through muffled and the only words Dickens could make out were 'brain museum'.

"So, does that mean you owe me an apology?"  Daryil asked the mayor sweetly.  The llama just looked back at him uncomfortably.

"I guess... I'm sorry," he began, but Daryil interrupted him.

"That's okay.  Now the more important question is what we do about it.  It's taken a lot of effort to stop the body reverting back to my form or turning to dust or whatever dead avatars do.  I could bring it back to life, but the jig would be well and truly up.  And it is a problem... if we stop them, their masters will know.  If we don't... well, fuck knows what they'll do now they're in charge of Parbury, but it won't be anything good."

"Could we put some kind of block on them?" the Mayor asked.  "Prevent them from doing anything harmful, but give them free reign otherwise?"

"...and make them believe they've already done the evil stuff?" Daryil said.  "That would only be a holding pattern, but it's a nice idea.  Eventually the Fa'Rana clan would figure it out in the end."

"Could they report to us?" Mayor Dickens pondered.  "To clarify their instructions?"

"Yeah," Daryil said excitedly.  "Let's do that."  He tapped something out on the screen and it changed slightly, the light and positioning jumping as it cut to show the live feed instead of the recording.  A moment later, Daryil vanished.
The Mayor balked as the fox appeared on the screen, holding his severed head under one arm.  The two 'Cubi turned in horror as the apparition approached them, stuck his head back on and then did something which the llama couldn't quite make out.  The next thing he knew, Daryil was standing over their bodies.  He grabbed one roughly, told them something in a forceful manner, before dropping them unconscious back to the ground.
Satisfied, the fox repeated the process on the other 'Cubi before finally vanishing to reappear by the mayor's side.

"They will report to me for clarification whenever they are ordered to do something that would harm others," Daryil said.  "That way, I'll be able to vet their orders first.  I'll keep you in the loop as well."

"Thank you, my lord," the llama said, bowing.  "Won't they know?"

"Nah, I gave them both post-hypnotic suggestions.  They won't remember a thing.  Now, tell me, Mr. Mayor, have you ever considered joining Daryil clan...?"


Dorcan stared expectantly at the pine marten, gaze only briefly wavering slightly to the forcefield and back to the shimmering figure once again.

"Right," Bob said, polishing his glasses.  "The message is in the form of a poem."

"Any particular reason, your shith... uh, your Bobness?" Dorcan stammered, stumbling horribly over the honorific and cringing as he waited for the thunderbolt to strike.

"'Your Bobness,'" the mustelid said, stroking his chin.  "I like that.  Nice one.  For the record, I'd have accepted 'Your shithead' too, actually.  See, sticks and stones can't break my bones because I'm ethereal and words don't hurt me either because I don't care what mortals think.  If I did, I'd look a bit less nerdy, right?
"Anyway, I usually intervene in the form of poetry because I move in mysterious ways.  It often helps people remember my hints, and I figure that's what I'm supposed to do, anyway.  But what do I know?  20'000 years and I still haven't quite got the hang of it."

"Anyway, the poem," Bob said, clearing his throat for effect.

Seek for the sword that has been destroyed
When they work out the truth they'll become quite annoyed
For the sword they destroyed ain't the sword that you seek,
But the sword that was forged at the end of last week
And the sword that was lost is a foul thing indeed
Which is why it was smashed as the king had decreed
For the sword has been cursed with a terrible power
Not the life, but the soul will the cursed blade devour
So beware when you find what the noble ones hate
Lest it cast you aside and erase you from fate.

"What...?"  Dorcan said, staring at the shimmering figure.

"Do you need to hear it again?" Bob asked.  "'Cause I have it written down somewhere if you want."

"But I don't understand... what sword?  What are you talking about?"

"Oh shit," Bob said, and his head-wings fanned out.  "That wasn't for you, that was for someone else.  Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"How can you make a mistake like that?" Dorcan squawked.  "I thought you were supposed to be a god!"

"Look around you," Bob said.  "You call this dog-eat-dog world perfect?  I've seen the Dragon Wars... nasty shit like that goes on all the time, just not as widespread for the most part, it's just a sort of background noise.  Furrae itself has clearly had more than a few mistakes made by whoever or whatever designed it, and they're far, far more powerful than I am."

"True," Dorcan said.  "I apologise."

"Well, it's my fault, really," Bob said.  "I just hope I can remember who was looking for that sword.  Nevermind, I think I wrote that down too.  I hope so... if it takes more than a week I'll have to change the verse structure again.  Anyway... the message.  I'm not sure I can be bothered to put it into rhyme and anyway I kind of like you, so I'll give it to you straight.  It's about your son, Sydney."

"What about him?" Dorcan asked cautiously.  "He should be safe at Illiath's, right?  Besides, most places a 'Cubi can go around openly and without fear of reprisals."

"Ah, but Illiath's was attacked," Bob said.  "I thought you knew, it's been the headline news on Furrae Today and all of the 'Cubi-run TV channels."

"I've been travelling," Dorcan said.  "But... wait!  How do you know...?  You can demodulate TV signals by pure thought...?"

"Yes.  But it's such a pain in the arse.  Why should I bother doing that when I can have my worshippers sacrifice a TV set to me, or when I could steal one myself from the supermarket in a halo of light and a heavenly choir?  I'm a god, not some kind of luddite."

"Quickly," Dorcan said, "About Sydney... is he safe...?"

"Oh, right.  Yeah, he's being held prisoner," Bob said.  "Clan Fa'Rana have him, and while he's safe at the moment, that might not last."

"What are they going to do to him?" the Doberman whimpered.

"Right now, nothing.  They were trying to use him as a hostage - believing he was Daryil's son - and they've only recently learned of their mistake.  Soon they may wonder if they can use Sydney in the same way as Daryil's son, since he's of a clan allied with Daryil.  It would certainly have some advantages and be less risky to them."


"I wonder..." The Professor said slowly, "If this Sydney's father is truly an android now, he can have no more children.  Perhaps... Could we use Sydney in the same way as Daryil's son?  Since he is of a clan allied with Daryil..."

"It would certainly have some advantages," Lady Finch mused.  "And it would be less risky to us."

"For example, Daryil wouldn't hunt us down one by one and mount our severed heads on the wall, like he would if something did happen to his own son,"  The Professor said.  "I never did like that idea.  Turning him against Daryil, however..."

"That may indeed be a better plan," Lady Finch said.  "Though remember we only needed to threaten our hostage - killing him would be a last resort, and a last resort only.  In any case, quite how Daryil is going to react when he discovers we've taken over Parbury is going to be dangerous enough..."  At that moment a wall-screen lit up.

"Professor," a feline incubus said.  "Forgive my intrusion, but... you'll love this!"

"What is it, Johan?" The Professor asked.  "If it's another knock-knock joke..."

"No, no!" Johan said excitedly.  "We've found him!  Daryil's son!"

"Are you sure...?" the raccoon said slowly, head-wings fanning out.  "We can't afford another mistake... suppose he's a Taun or something?  We cannot risk alienating any other clans..."

"We used the 'Cubi Registry, did a search by DNA parameters, grouped by probability!"  The eager cat's face was replaced by a screenful of data and charts.

"Are you shitting me?"  The Professor exclaimed.  "The 'Cubi Registry only accepts global search requests from Tri-winged Leaders or by means of a warrant.  Casual enquiries are only open to 'Cubi and are restricted to their own clan... otherwise we would have done this to begin with.  How could you possibly bypass that?"

"Possession," Johan said.  "A charmed bracelet to keep one of their employees under our spell until they had fetched the result for us.  They will remember nothing."

"Well done," The Professor said.   "Very well done indeed!"

"If we can really get hold of Daryil's true son, we will no longer need Sydney," Lady Finch said.


"What do you mean?" Josh said, confused and struck with sudden doubt.  "I'm an android.  How can things possibly go back to the way they were before I died?  Are you suggesting some kind of time travel?"

"There is a way," Haley said, stroking Josh's hair gently as she spoke.  "All we have to do is find someone who looks like you.  Another male Husky Being about your age."

"And then what?" Josh said sceptically, folding his arms and wondering whether Haley's near-death experience had somehow unhinged her.  "And that's assuming you can find an exact match, which I doubt?"  I don't like where this is heading, he added mentally.

"Well, then I can rip out his soul, convert it into energy and transfer your soul into the empty husk," Haley smiled.  "Presto, good as new!"

Josh's face became an expressionless mask.  Inwardly he was staggered, horror flooding through him.  It can't be real, he thought wildly.  It can't... she can't... this is just a nightmare...

He pinched himself, claws digging hard into his trousers, a desperate attempt to wake himself...

"Are you alright...?" Haley was asking, her face a picture of concern.  Josh shook himself, marshalling his thoughts and emotions and stared back at the malamute calmly, studying her features dispassionately as if seeing her for the first time.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you're not Haley," he said slowly.  "She really is dead and you're just a succubus trying to fool me.  Well, I'm sorry, but it didn't work.  You must have known I'd suspect."

"Oh, poor Josh," the malamute said sadly, and a pair of leathery wings appeared on the back of her head.  "You've got it all wrong.  I really am the Haley you knew and loved all those years ago.  I don't know where you got your mind shield from, but it's a good one.  Everything I know about you is what I remember from before..."

"It was all a lie, wasn't it?  You never really loved me at all."

"Oh honey, don't be like that," Haley said, head-wings drooping.  "Of course I did!"

"'Cubi are masters of deception," Joshua said.  "How I can ever be sure of anything you say?"

"I did love you, Josh," she said again, with a sad smile.  "I loved you too much, that's why I had to leave you... it was interfering with my work.  Besides, you were only a Being at the time, doomed to grow old and feeble and ugly while I remain young and beautiful.  But now, though... now you're almost one of us... and if we can get you into a new body, you can be!"

Poor Josh I feel sorry for him it seems the husky can not catch a break.

Seems like Bob actually came through without asking for a sacrifice this time. Strange and interesting turn around from the last time we saw him and interesting how his last words match up with what the others are saying.

Changing Josh into a cubi?

This is a lot of effort to see Josh again and letting him in on her plans up to this point. I'm guessing this is another one of the projects that Clan Fa'Rana is working on.

Though I do have other suspensions of her coming back into her life. I'm just not sure about them though.

Okay, after a few months of ignorance/ignoreness/whatever you call ignoring something these days, and a few hours of catch up time, I have read what's here of project Epsilon, and the main thing I have to say is
BLOODY WELL DONE.
This has pretty much been keeping the quality CJP and FH had, so yeah, great work, though not sure praise from me matters much.

Now , for comments. Probably in no reasonable order.

* Lady Finch and the Professor (and the rest of Fa'Rana there) are ranking high among my favourite characters. Building a robot that can kill demons, and testing/demo-ing it with a couple Monty Python references? Yes please!
* That drawing of Sheila Ketania you got off at AC is awesome. Well done to the artist.
* Poor Lady Finch. Her son is an utter moron with a big mouth. Makes me wonder how he managed to massacre those people over where he was almost executed, makes me think he was .. improving over reality a little (I fully believe the bits about escaping due to a crap subduing spell, and making Niall cry and leave). You know.. half the story I kinda expected he had an affinity for shock and anger/disgust, which'd explain several episodes. As a clan Daryil member, he probably is one for shock, yeah.
* Probably the best and funniest moment was Jyraneth's "I stop thinking you!" .. actually reminded me of something from our regular DnD campaign (mental conversations between Inquisitor Steelsprocket and the Dragula the Deffbike (a steam motorcycle), the second invading the first's mind)
* Close second is strip clubs serving flapjack (as a fan of that particular snack due to low price/mass ratio *yes*. ) , and the whole porridge thing. Oh, and Jakob performing a reverse interrogation by playing along, then sabotaging the android. I wonder.. could that be perhaps aided by position tracking? As in, unless ordered otherwise, the android "latches" onto the first suitable person entering the room (perhaps they'd have to touch it => fur sample, or simply vein prints or something.. I'd imagine an IR scan of blood vessels somewhere in body (muzzle, paw)  would be insane for even a cubi to fake) and accepts orders tracking their location.. if they leave visual range, it resets again to some sensible pre-programmed behaviour. It's probably still horribly fragile, though I suspect.
* 12 phase power supply? I.. hmm, as far as I know, the benefits drop off after 3 phases low enough that it isn't worth the extra wiring. Unless they were using it to distribute the current better or something similarly arcane that  my knowledge of electricity fails to take into account.
* Gonna disagree with owl there - Keaton is not so much a case of villain decay, rather, not that she's able to do all that much in her present condition, and is pretty much screwed if any old enemy comes up. Hence, paranoia.
* So Haley is a succubus? Poor Josh. That said, she isn't being very.. tactical or sane about it... saying that she screwed him over plain because he was holding her up and going to become old when he just told her what he did... is his mindshield *that* good? I'd imagine that'd screw a cubi over - if you're used to feeling emotions, having to deduce them by other means, especially from a frakkin' robot is kinda hard.
* Your Bobness does go among the best religious titles. Though, any deity called Bob should smoke a pipe

Quote from: VAE on October 17, 2012, 07:53:20 AM
* Poor Lady Finch. Her son is an utter moron with a big mouth. Makes me wonder how he managed to massacre those people over where he was almost executed, makes me think he was .. improving over reality a little (I fully believe the bits about escaping due to a crap subduing spell, and making Niall cry and leave). You know.. half the story I kinda expected he had an affinity for shock and anger/disgust, which'd explain several episodes. As a clan Daryil member, he probably is one for shock, yeah.

Thanks for your comments and critique.  Richard was originally conceived as 'Dan, brought up by Destania'.  He has kind of drifted away from that, but - at least when he joined the school - he was of the opinion that killing Beings was kind of like hunting for sport, and he is definitely competent at murder if he has the advantage of surprise.  Against a full-blown adventurer?  He'd likely be toast.

I really need to catch up with Richard and co in the chapter I'm writing now (39) but they don't really have much to say, writing smalltalk has never been one of my strengths.  (And nor has SmallTalk either)

My current favourite character is Illiath, who debuts in chapter 31.

Quote* Probably the best and funniest moment was Jyraneth's "I stop thinking you!"

Actually pinched from The Face of Evil, one of my all-time favourite Dr. Who episodes.

Quote* 12 phase power supply? I.. hmm, as far as I know, the benefits drop off after 3 phases low enough that it isn't worth the extra wiring. Unless they were using it to distribute the current better or something similarly arcane that  my knowledge of electricity fails to take into account.

Yours is probably better.  Maybe it should have just been 6 :3

Quote* Your Bobness does go among the best religious titles. Though, any deity called Bob should smoke a pipe

Wouldn't really gel with his nerdy image.  I will have to try and get Merlin to draw him when she has a chance.

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 17, 2012, 08:25:07 AM

Quote from: VAE on October 17, 2012, 07:53:20 AM
* Poor Lady Finch. Her son is an utter moron with a big mouth. Makes me wonder how he managed to massacre those people over where he was almost executed, makes me think he was .. improving over reality a little (I fully believe the bits about escaping due to a crap subduing spell, and making Niall cry and leave). You know.. half the story I kinda expected he had an affinity for shock and anger/disgust, which'd explain several episodes. As a clan Daryil member, he probably is one for shock, yeah.

Thanks for your comments and critique.  Richard was originally conceived as 'Dan, brought up by Destania'.  He has kind of drifted away from that, but - at least when he joined the school - he was of the opinion that killing Beings was kind of like hunting for sport, and he is definitely competent at murder if he has the advantage of surprise.  Against a full-blown adventurer?  He'd likely be toast.

Hahah, yes, the "What I made / What I played / etc." RPG meme, happens to everyone.
That said, he doesn't appear to be //too// good at magic, nor is he exceptionally good with tentacles or physically.. I mean, Syd was pretty much an adventurer in training a few years ago, perhaps comparable to the folk in town guards, and despite obviously Richard not being intent on harm, he still did not much of a job of getting himself loose and fleeing. Who knows... (Also, him fucking up, and the fact that his mother didn't inform him fully, and the fact that a lot of them treated the result to be *as expected* implies moar things.)

Oh, on a related point... the clan mark of Daryil didn't come as a surprise to me at all, as soon as they learned of his clan (that said, the fact they are a Daryil splinter *was* surprising, but then I'm less of a thoughtful reader than some)  - I pretty much thought it's a taboo because they still got Daryil's marks to their shame and disgust,  much like Dorcan and the like (Kamei'Sin I think)  have Jyraneth's.

Quote
I really need to catch up with Richard and co in the chapter I'm writing now (39) but they don't really have much to say, writing smalltalk has never been one of my strengths.  (And nor has SmallTalk either)

Hahah, neither is mine.

Quote
My current favourite character is Illiath, who debuts in chapter 31.

As the blind man said, we shall see.

Quote

Quote* Probably the best and funniest moment was Jyraneth's "I stop thinking you!"

Actually pinched from The Face of Evil, one of my all-time favourite Dr. Who episodes.

It's still hillarious. Hmm, given the amount of stuff Saph tends to mention from there, maybe I really should watch Dr. Who one day.

Quote

Quote* 12 phase power supply? I.. hmm, as far as I know, the benefits drop off after 3 phases low enough that it isn't worth the extra wiring. Unless they were using it to distribute the current better or something similarly arcane that  my knowledge of electricity fails to take into account.

Yours is probably better.  Maybe it should have just been 6 :3

Ehh. While electrical power was one of the things to do with electricity I sucked least at, it doesn't imply I'm much good.
That said, who knows what sort of spells it's mixed with, there well could be special requirements to power some machines with a dash of magitech that Earth's hardware simply doesn't have.  

Quote

Quote* Your Bobness does go among the best religious titles. Though, any deity called Bob should smoke a pipe

Wouldn't really gel with his nerdy image.  I will have to try and get Merlin to draw him when she has a chance.

Tell that to this mister here. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._R._%22Bob%22_Dobbs) :3

Quote from: VAE on October 17, 2012, 09:57:08 AM
Hahah, yes, the "What I made / What I played / etc." RPG meme, happens to everyone.
That said, he doesn't appear to be //too// good at magic, nor is he exceptionally good with tentacles or physically.. I mean, Syd was pretty much an adventurer in training a few years ago, perhaps comparable to the folk in town guards, and despite obviously Richard not being intent on harm, he still did not much of a job of getting himself loose and fleeing.

You mean when they were taken by Lady Finch and co?

QuoteOh, on a related point... the clan mark of Daryil didn't come as a surprise to me at all, as soon as they learned of his clan (that said, the fact they are a Daryil splinter *was* surprising, but then I'm less of a thoughtful reader than some)  - I pretty much thought it's a taboo because they still got Daryil's marks to their shame and disgust,  much like Dorcan and the like (Kamei'Sin I think)  have Jyraneth's.

Yeah.  I figured a lot of people would guess that.  IIRC it surprised one of my proof-readers, though.

Quote
I really need to catch up with Richard and co in the chapter I'm writing now (39) but they don't really have much to say, writing smalltalk has never been one of my strengths.  (And nor has SmallTalk either)

Hahah, neither is mine.

Quote
It's still hillarious. Hmm, given the amount of stuff Saph tends to mention from there, maybe I really should watch Dr. Who one day.

That one is from about 1976, I think.  A little primitive technically but it had some very, very nice moments, particularly with the dialogue.  It introduced Leela.  Basically the Doctor runs into a semi-divine entity resembling himself and worshipped by the locals.  Said entity is completely insane and believes the Doctor is a figment of his own imagination.  I think that's about as much as can be said without spoiling things.

"You know, the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common. They don't alter their views to fit the facts, they alter the facts to fit the views. Which can be uncomfortable if you happen to be one of the facts that needs altering."

QuoteEhh. While electrical power was one of the things to do with electricity I sucked least at, it doesn't imply I'm much good.
That said, who knows what sort of spells it's mixed with, there well could be special requirements to power some machines with a dash of magitech that Earth's hardware simply doesn't have.

Yeah.  I was trying to imply that they needed something rather peculiar to run it, since a normal industrial power supply wouldn't be a problem.

QuoteTell that to this mister here. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._R._%22Bob%22_Dobbs) :3

Yeah, I thought that was what you meant.  I was never sure where that came from, though.

Yep, or rather a while before that, when the ISAS proffessorship considered using Richard as a hostage of their own.
That said, I wonder if Finch would have been phased have they gone through, or declared him a loss much like Stalin did with his son when he said the "I don't exchange generals for soldiers" when the germans offered his swap for captive officers.

Quote from: VAE on October 17, 2012, 12:20:12 PM
Yep, or rather a while before that, when the ISAS proffessorship considered using Richard as a hostage of their own.
That said, I wonder if Finch would have been phased have they gone through, or declared him a loss much like Stalin did with his son when he said the "I don't exchange generals for soldiers" when the germans offered his swap for captive officers.

Lady Finch may have a few screws loose, but she would have gone nuts if Richard was killed.

EDIT:
Oh, and where the fight between Richard, Falkirk and Syd is concerned, Richard didn't want to risk harming fellow 'Cubi.  If he had been assailed by Beings, he would probably have hacked them up with his tentacles.  He may be pretty lousy at the other 'Cubi powers, but he can certainly use the tentacles to deadly effect.

Ah, so that's what the rolling thunder was for! Poor Josh. :(


It was weird that Lady Finch and the Professor used the exact same words as Bob did. Then again, my brother and I did the same thing yesterday (when our dad sent us messages saying that signing a scripture had been a hard labor, we both replied - independently, since we were in different places - "Is it a boy or a girl?")

Oh, and thanks to Sunblink for helping with Keaton's dialogue.

Chapter 27

"In this class I'll be teaching you more basic shapeshifting," Professor Falkirk began.  "But before we start, I feel it's only fair to take any questions you may have about the future of this school.
"Before anyone asks the obvious one, I will say now that we still don't know when we'll be able to return to the ISIS building.
"Teaching will resume within Daryil's complex, but to avoid accusations of bias we will be restricting ourselves, mostly to practical subjects like emotional discipline, psionic powers, self-defence and of course shapeshifting.  More abstract things like history classes, Being studies and the like, things which have a political angle to them, those will be on hold until we can find more neutral territory to run the school from."

"Professor," Sheila began, misery evident in her voice.

"I can talk to you afterwards if you like, Sheila," Professor Falkirk said quietly.  "Are you sure you're in a fit state to attend class yet?"

"I think I can manage, sir," she said unhappily.  "Professor... will the literature classes continue?"

"Not immediately," the poodle told her.  "We're still working on that one.  The base's connectivity is a bit limited, this many students will saturate it, and the library here is... well, not ideal.  Some would call it 'tainted' by Daryil Clan's outlook, and we don't want to give that impression.  Once we can arrange a wider selection, those classes will resume."

The class had arranged the tables into the same configuration they had had in the school, partly out of habit, partly to give themselves some semblance of normality to cling to and in some cases out of sheer defiance against the school's attackers.  Fighting back tears, Sheila looked at the empty seat next to her, where Syd would have been, if he was there, and then to the spot where Richard had sat.

This is ridiculous, she told herself.  Sydney's one thing, but Richard was responsible for this whole fiasco... Why do I miss him too...?


"Professor," Lady Finch said.  "I've had an idea what we should do with Sydney."

"Oh...?" the raccoon asked, turning to look at the wolf succubus.

"We should definitely take him hostage and threaten his life.  If we can then draw his father to us, we can take him prisoner... then we will have a Jayhawk android to study!  Think of the improvements we could make to Sophie!"

"Apparently his father is friendly with Daryil," The Professor cautioned.  "He may not take this well.  But if we can manage that side of things, yes... the idea has merit.  I will bring Sydney here."


"What is Sydney to you...?" Dorcan asked nervously.  "Why do you care enough to watch him and warn me he's in trouble?"

"You pledged him to me," Bob said.  "You pledged your firstborn to Bob in exchange for the android race being recognised by the Being-Creature Commission."

"Oh hell," the Doberman said, and his head-wings fanned out.  "What will you do to him...?  Please, please don't kill him, he's the last son I can ever have... WAIT!  They didn't!  The Commission decided to take a wait-and-see approach!"

"That they did," Bob agreed.  "In fact, we didn't actually close that deal.  If you remember, I warned you upfront that it might not be as simple as you thought, with that whole "I'm a robot and I can't have children" thing.  Give me some credit!
"But I've been watching him anyway, just out of curiosity... to see what I might have won, I suppose.  He's a good lad, and I'd hate to see anything happen to him.
"But there is another reason.  I can dimly sense something on the horizon, and your son is caught up in it, I'm afraid.  If it goes bad, it could spark another war against the 'Cubi race."

"Oh gods," Dorcan said.  "Will it never end?"

"It's a matter of probabilities," Bob said.  "And probabilities within probabilities.  Right now, there's a sixty percent chance of this shit hitting the fan, but that doesn't automatically mean a war.
"That's if things proceed as they are now and the loonies succeed in this Epsilon Project of theirs... it's such an outrageously stupid idea, it is likely to spark a war.  Now, if that happens, there's a 50/50 chance of the 'Cubi race being able to shift the blame onto the loonies, more if I intervene.  But even that would still be messy."

"What about the other forty percent?" Dorcan asked, head-wings drooping.

"Oh, that's if someone stops them.  Then things will happily carry on as they were before, a slow and gradual thaw between Beings and Creatures.  I think that's best, personally."

"And my son...?  If things are really going to descend into chaos, I want him somewhere safe!  Can we get him out?"

"That's the thing.  They've hidden him very, very well.  The whole place is completely shielded, like SAIA was back in the day.  And that means the only way he's getting out, the only way anyone can even locate him, is through divine intervention.  And whatever you may think after the poem malarky, I do happen to have god-like powers, whether I really am a god or not."

"You're not sure?" Dorcan asked.  "No offence intended..."

"I figure I was probably some weird experiment created by the Fae... maybe along the lines of "Can I create a rock that I'm unable to lift?".  Whatever the case, 'god' is the closest thing I can find that people will understand.   Whatever I am, I do seem to be able to draw extra strength from the worship of others, and I get first dibs on the souls of all who are killed in my name or my service.  I think that's reasonably godlike."

"You're talking about intervening to save my son," Dorcan said.  "Is that something you've done much?  I mean... I don't want it to go wrong and lose him..."

"I've done it a bit," Bob said.  "More than before.  See, my hands were kind of tied in the Dragon Wars... if I intervened too much they'd know, and I have no doubt they'd be able to commit deicide if they really, really wanted to.  After all, I have a soul.  I guess... I guess I was scared."

"You just sat back and watched?" Dorcan said, horrified.  "As entire clans were wiped from the face of Furrae?  You did nothing?"

"I didn't say that," Bob said, and for the first time he sounded annoyed.  "I worked stealthily.  I didn't do anything that could be pinned on a deity - just a bit of random good fortune here and there, a few key people hidden from the Dragon's vision.  I think it's fair to say that there would be even fewer clans left if I hadn't helped out."

"I'm sorry," Dorcan said, "It's just..."

"Yeah, I know.  I could have done more.  You have no idea how difficult it was, how much it hurt each time another clan died, how many times I wished I could have done more.  And that's one of the reasons I want to try and prevent another war from happening now."

The Doberman nodded.

"In fact, fuck it.  Let's do this."  Bob said, and closed his eyes.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"  Dorcan asked.

"Yeah.  Stay there for a minute, and wait.  You'll know what to do."


There was a slight change of pressure in his room, but Syd was used to it by now.  He put down "Confessions of Another Jyraneth" on the bedside table and glanced up to see Richard standing there with a small bag of cookies.

"Thanks," Syd said.  "Any idea when they're likely to let me out of here?"

"Not really," Richard said.  "Mom was extremely vague about it.  It's starting to worry me."

"Supposing," Syd said, "Supposing you heard that they've decided to... silence me."  Richard's head-wings fluffed out at this.

"...I mean purely hypothetically," Sydney added quickly.  "Where would you stand?"

Richard looked around nervously.

"I don't think it will come to that," the jackal tittered nervously.  "I mean... obviously, I don't want you to die, but... if I stick my neck out too far to save you, I'll be dead too and what's that buy us?"

"Your own clan would kill you for trying to save your friend?" Sydney said, aghast.

"If they thought I'd turned to Daryil's side, they might," the jackal said.  He looked scared.  "They'll be angry if they even think I've been visiting you.  Mom would go apeshit... she'd send me to The Professor..!"

"Well, maybe it won't get that far," Sydney said, but he sounded doubtful himself.  He glanced around.  Richard was pointing at one of the walls.


Nick turned as they opened his door, and his head-wings fanned out slightly as he took in Keaton.  The succubus leapt backwards at the sight of him, a handsome youth, heartbreakingly similar to herself or perhaps her older brother... but clothed in shiny leggings and arm-length gloves.  Keaton went apeshit.

"WHAT. THE HELL. DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" she screamed, a wild expression on her face which at once embodied both horror, shock, fury and a considerable number of various other things.

"Wuh...?" Nick's head-wings fanned out even further at the reaction, and he almost fell off his chair.

"You... a Jyraneth... the noblest of all clans... What the fuck are you doing dressed like a whore?!"

"His clothes were falling apart," Daryil said.  "So I lent him some of mine."

"Oh, so that's your game!" Keaton sneered.  "He's been here five minutes and you're already trying to turn this kid into your concubine?!"

"I chose them," Nick squeaked, head-wings fanning out.  "They're comfortable and shiny and cool looking.  'Cubi are supposed to wear tight clothing!  And we're supposed to dress outrageously, to spark people's emotions!  I've read all about it!"

"Yes, but..." the succubus stopped and closed her mouth.  She turned away, radiating misery.  "Never mind.  If that's what you're into, that's your choice, I guess..."  She left the room.

"Well, that didn't go down as well as I'd hoped," Daryil said.  "Ah well, she should warm up eventually, but this may take a lot longer than I thought."

"Who was that?"

"Keaton," Daryil told him.  Nick stepped backwards a few paces.  "That Keaton?"

"Yes.  But she wouldn't dare hurt you," Daryil said.  "Even without me here to protect you.  For better or worse, she's part of your close family and I guess this came as something of a disappointment to her.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd better get after her in case she does something foolish."

Lord Daryil stopped at the door and glanced back at the shaken jackal.  "By the way, you do look rather cute in those," he added.

Not for the first time, Nicklaus wondered what he had got himself into.

Love the last line. Really do.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on October 20, 2012, 09:58:54 AM
Love the last line. Really do.

Oh, I forgot to mention that it ties in with this, which was originally done while experimenting with new highlighting techniques for shiny surfaces:
http://www.project-future.org/stuff/things/NickGoth33.png

Heh. The whole "Divine intervention is too risky" shtick reminds me of what happens when you combine Epic Level Handbook and Deities and Demigods supplements  - there are many stories of DnD campaigns whose common point is "If it's got HP, it can be killed". And considering DnD dragons definitely qualify for at least a good 30 levels...

Also....

Quote
"You... a Jyraneth... the noblest of all clans... What the fuck are you doing dressed like a whore?!"

Some questions just don't have a satisfying answer.

Quote from: VAE on October 20, 2012, 11:33:50 AM
Heh. The whole "Divine intervention is too risky" shtick reminds me of what happens when you combine Epic Level Handbook and Deities and Demigods supplements

The other reason is of course to avoid treading on Amber's toes too much :P

QuoteSome questions just don't have a satisfying answer.

The normal 'Cubi answer is that it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 20, 2012, 09:09:30 AM
Not for the first time, Nicklaus wondered what he had got himself into.

He got himself into Daryil's clothes. That invariably leads to trouble. Except in Daryil's case he's usually the one causing it. ;)

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 20, 2012, 10:25:29 AM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on October 20, 2012, 09:58:54 AM
Love the last line. Really do.

Oh, I forgot to mention that it ties in with this, which was originally done while experimenting with new highlighting techniques for shiny surfaces:
http://www.project-future.org/stuff/things/NickGoth33.png

Wow, Keaton and Nick look quite a bit like one another. If not sharing similar fashion tastes.

Edit: Though looking back to Keaton on her cast page, there is a difference in hair style and the marks around Keaton's eye's. Though it does seem like Keaton wears more then him.

Writing has slowed down a bit so I might go back to the two-week schedule now that the backlog has shrunk, we'll have to see how things go.

Chapter 28

Richard stared at the apparition before him.  A glowing point had appeared in one wall of Sydney's room.  It traced a square on the wall and opened, revealing gateway to somewhere else.  Sydney strode up to it and peered through, but it was hazy and he couldn't quite make out what he was seeing.

"Come on..." a voice was calling.  "It won't be open forever!"

"Oh," Sydney snarled, "And just why should I go through it?"

"What?!" the voice exclaimed.  "We're trying to rescue you!"

"Oh fuck off!" Syd put his hands on his hips.  "You don't seriously think I'm going to fall for that one again?"

"Don't be a tit," the voice said.  "Look, Dorcan's here.  Do you want to be rescued or not?  Because you can stay and be killed by the Fa'Rana crazies if you prefer."

At that moment another dot appeared next to the first, tracing out the square of a new portal.  The words "...some kind of interference..." drifted through it, and the opening became brighter.

"Come here, Sydney," someone was saying.  The fox glanced and panicked as he saw it was Professor Fa'Rana.

Everything after that happened in a blur, it was almost like someone else had taken him over... It was exactly like he'd read, sometimes in stressful situations a 'Cubi would be overridden by their own emotions and that seemed to have happened now.  Syd was like a prisoner inside himself, watching in amazement as his arms grabbed Richard bodily and pushed him through the nearest portal.

Richard lay chin down on the grass, winded.  As his watering eyes came into focus he found himself staring at some kind of translucent incubus.  Through the ghostly one's shoulder he could see a Doberman incubus, who looked somehow familiar.

"What the hell?" the glowing one said.  "That's not your son."

"You got the wrong one!" the Doberman yelped.


"What's the catch?"  Mayor Dickens said, hands on hips.

"You have to have a child with one of my clan," one of Daryil said.  "She then has to sacrifice half of her power and lifespan to make you into half an incubus.
Then you both get a complimentary chunk of soul energy to bring you both up to scratch."

"What's she get out of it?" the mayor asked, eyes narrowing.

"Depends," Daryil said.  "Sometimes clan members desperately want a child, but haven't found a partner.  Sometimes it's a penance for those who have severely broken the laws of my clan."

"This is all a trick," the llama said, smiling cynically.  "If I'm a member of your clan... it's all a ploy to gain control of Parbury."

"Technically I already have," Daryil reminded him.  "But at the end of the day you're kind of right.  Once more for the record, I fully intend to return Parbury to you once the present crisis is over.
"That said, it would be nice to have Parbury as a part of my clan's territory, I won't deny that.  If you were to join my clan, it would make a nice compromise that satisfied both sides, but at the end of the day, it's up to you."

"You'd just wait until I retire anyway..." the llama began, but he cut short as the screen next to them suddenly buzzed.
Daryil snapped his fingers and Mayor Dickens' office appeared on it, a leopard succubus standing before the viewscreen with a vixen stood next to her.  Their eyes were slightly unfocused.

"I have been instructed to assassinate a Mr. Lizzabud of 73 Gromshire Drive, Palance, West Parbury," the leopard said.  "He is scheduled to inspect one of our properties in Grunmore and this would expose our hidden complex.  What are your orders?"

"Very good, Bill," Daryil said.  "And Ben?"

"I am to hold the premises in her absence and dispose of the corpse afterwards.  What are your orders?"

"Now Hear This," Daryil said, and his eyes blazed slightly.  "Bill, you have already assassinated Mr. Lizzabud.  Ben, you have already disposed of the corpse.  You will return to your duties in ten seconds."

"Yes, Professor," the two succubi chorused.  Daryil cut the link.

"'Bill'?  'Ben'?" the llama asked, frowning.

"Well, I don't know what their real names are," Daryil said, "So I made some up.  Bill is the leopard, Ben is the vixen.  Do you like them?"

Mayor Dickens turned his head slightly, not quite sure whether Daryil was kidding him or not.

"Whatever," the fox said, "Frankly I'd be worried if you immediately accepted my proposal to join Daryil clan.  It's something that needs very careful consideration.
"The offer is still open, so have a think about it.  If at the end of the day you don't want to, I can accept that."
"But now, if you'll excuse me, I'd better find this Mr. Lizzabud and get him out of trouble before someone realises that the Flowerpot Men here haven't killed him."

So saying, Daryil pushed a small, glossy booklet into the llama's hands and skipped happily off down the corridor.

Shaking his head, Mayor Dickens glanced down at the brochure.  The cover depicted Daryil in sunglasses, trenchcoat and a fedora.  He was leaning against the wall, and above him were the words "Hey kid, wanna be a 'Cubi?"


"You bastard," Keaton flared, as another of Daryil's projections caught up with her.  "Why did you do this to me?!  I served my time in prison, I didn't kill anyone while I was there, no-one at all!  You don't think I've suffered enough?  Is that it...?"

"What?"  Daryil fluffed out.  "What are you talking about, Keaton...?"

"HIM!"  Keaton pointed at the door, claws extended with her shapeshifting powers.  "You bastard... raising my hopes with tales of some young Jyraneth... and then showing me this... this fake!     
"Gods, Keaton," Daryil said.  "I thought he was your son!"

"My son?!  I've been in fucking prison for the last 25 years!  This may come as a surprise to you, but they don't let you do things like that when you're in jail!"

"I wouldn't have thought that would have stopped you," Daryil said.  "If you were determined enough you'd have found a way.  I think that's why I like you, you're so tenacious."

"'Like me?!'  You bitch," Keaton snapped, her voice full of venom.  "You just wanted to crow over this, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," Daryil said, and he looked very hurt.  "Really, I am... I mean... I didn't do any of this to spite you.  I honestly thought it would make you happy to meet another member of your clan, to know that they're still out there...  I didn't think this would happen..."

As he spoke, the jackal succubus began to sag visibly, leaning back against the wall for support.  "When I look at him...  It's like he's...  He's a reminder of everything I had... everything I've lost... everything I can never have now..."

"Never is a long time, Keaton," Daryil said.  "Especially for someone with a multi-milennial lifespan.  All you have to do is find a good man who is tolerant of your... foibles... and settle down for a bit.  Start a company that makes plushies or something.  It's not soul surgery.  Hell, I can lend you some seed capital and premises if you want."

"But he's a Jyraneth..." Keaton wept, burying her head in Daryil's arm.  "One of the Lady's Children... and he doesn't know the first thing about how he should behave!"

"No, he does," Daryil said softly.  "He's seen the Jyraneth Way and it appalls him.  And he's right, Katherine.  Going on murderous raids against other races is not a survival trait.  It works if you're a Demon or if you're safe in your own closed environment like the Jyraneth were, but it doesn't work in the world outside."

"It worked for more than fifteen thousand years," the succubus said, her voice choked.

"Yes, but those days are gone," the fox told her gently.  "They always say that you can never really go home, and it's true.  But even if you could... would you really, honestly want to?  As I understand it the Lady held loyalty checks every ten years and cruelly punished or destroyed anyone who she felt didn't meet her ideals.  Is that really the life you want to lead?"

"But it's the life I grew up with!"

"Yes, and you're seeing it with rose-tinted glasses because of that," Daryil said apologetically.  "That's normal and natural, but it's not especially helpful.  It may have been the life you grew up with, but that's because it was the life you were forced into by the Lady and your parents' terror of her," he continued.
"Don't you remember when you were young and innocent, when you first found out what your clan was doing to people?  It horrified you, Keaton, just like Nick is horrified now.  They had to break you, Katherine," he said.  "They had to condition you to accept what most other clans consider to be atrocities, they had to brainwash you into thinking they were just a part of normal life.
"I mean... she had you brand yourselves with hot irons to prove your loyalty to the Queen, over and over again because we heal rapidly.  Gods, Keaton, self-mutilation!  None of the other clans do that.  Tri-winged Leaders nearly always take a friendly approach with their children.  What Jyraneth did, how she ran her clan... that's not normal."

"What are you trying to do to me...?" Keaton whimpered.  "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I think it's best in the long run.  And because... because I went through a very bad period myself when I was younger," Daryil said hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it.
"But now?  Now I have a clan, a true clan of my own, and many children who look up to me.  Maybe one day, a thousand or so years from now, you can say the same, do the same... look back on your murderous rampages as simple immaturity, something you don't talk about very much."

"Yeah, right," the jackal said, looking at the floor.

"At the end of the day, Jyraneth clan can never be the way it was again.  There are survivors of the massacre out there still, but without the Lady's iron fist, nearly everyone has gone to seed.  Settled back into an ordinary, normal way of life, living among Beings or in Creature-run cities.
"Even the inquisitors... what were they called again..?  Even those... well, some of them were executed for murder, but the ones who survived have adapted, putting their past behind them and becoming normal, happy 'Cubi like Mordrith and Julei.
"There are still a handful of fanatics out there, but honestly, Keaton... they're so far gone they'd probably kill you for heresy."

Keaton shuddered.  "That's true, but... Look," she snapped.  "Just tell me where you're going with this, if you're so concerned for me."

"Yeah, right.  What I'm trying to say is... don't judge Nick too harshly for being like any other young 'Cubi, because the Jyraneth Clan of your youth is gone.  If you're trying to recapture it, you'll always be disappointed.   You'd have much better luck with the plushie factory."


"Wait," Josh said, one eye widening with suspicious curiously, "You're offering to turn me into a 'Cubi...?"

"Well, once you've been put into a flesh body again," the malamute said excitedly.  "We can't do it to an android."

"I don't follow," Josh said.  "It sounds to me like you faked your own death to break off our relationship.  Why couldn't you have converted me then...?"

Haley winced slightly at the mention of her death, but a moment later became her previous bubbly self once more.

"Only a clan with a true Leader, a tri-winged clan leader... only a clan like that can convert other races into 'Cubi."

"You're from a tri-winged clan?!" the husky half-shouted, stepping back in alarm.

"No, not yet..." Haley said, quivering with excitement, "But once Project Sigma has been completed, my master will finally be able to grant me this reward for all I've done!"

"But I don't want any part of it," Josh said.  "Not if it means killing or soul-stealing."  The malamute looked stung, and then saddened.

"Joshua, Joshua... please reconsider.   I'm offering you a chance to transcend all the limits of a regular Being.  As part of the Master Race, you'd have far greater powers... far greater lifespan... everything you could possibly want!  And most of all, we'd be together..!
"Please, dear... I wouldn't make this offer to just anyone.  Think about it... do you comprehend what I'm offering?  How much I'd have to sacrifice to make this work...?  Even The Professor can't just snap his fingers and turn you into a 'Cubi, it's very involved a... part of me would have to merge with you!
"It's such a rare thing, it only usually happens when a 'Cubi is very, very deeply in love with a Being... and that's what I'm offering to you now!"

Seems like Bob interventions have slightly varying results

Wow, with the idea of Keaton possibly being a Plushie Baroness, I'm getting weird idea's of what the commercial would be like for that.

Quote from: joshofspam on October 27, 2012, 12:43:12 PM
Seems like Bob interventions have slightly varying results

Well, it wouldn't be fun to have someone who is completely all-powerful :3

Chapter 29

"If you feel up to it," Daryil said, once he was sure Keaton had calmed down, "I do need to ask you about the Red Queen."

The jackal's ears pricked up, and she turned around slowly, a suspicious expression across her face.

"After all you've just said about putting the past behind me?" she said.  "Now you want to know about the Lady!?"

"Yeah, I know, I know... but it's important," Daryil insisted.

"She hasn't been seen for centuries," Keaton said.  "Most people think she's dead, people who haven't seen the heads on our wing-tentacles.  What do you care about ancient history?"

"I'll get to that.  See, the thing is that you're one of the rather few people who have ever met her in person and survived," Daryil said.  "And this has suddenly become rather important.  I need an unbiased opinion, which Mordrith and Julei cannot provide, particularly since she wanted to execute their souls.  I don't expect you to have an uncoloured opinion either, but I figure if I add yours to Mordriths, they should cancel each other out and leave me with something vaguely accurate.
"That and I've read 'Confessions of a Jyraneth'," he added.  "It was very well written."

"Thanks, it sold great," Keaton said.  "Oh!  You want me to write about the Lady?  Is that it?"

"No, though it might be a fun project," the fox said.  "No... I'm afraid that it's to do with Nick, who you met earlier.  I don't expect miracles after your first encounter, and besides, the guy's probably scared shitless of you by now.  But if you can bring yourself to at least be cordial with him, you're free to ask him any questions about it."

"Get to the point," Keaton said curtly.

"Well..." Daryil hesitated.  "Nick thinks he's met Her in his dreams."

Keaton froze, vision greying for a moment as she steadied herself against a nearby wall.  Daryil winced at the obvious shock and terror the jackal had just unleashed, though being only present as an avatar, he couldn't really feel it himself.

"Oh... Oh fuck..." the succubus murmured quietly.

"Yeah, I thought you might say that," Daryil said.

"I've been a bad girl," Keaton babbled, looking hastily around the room in case Jyraneth had somehow sneaked in and was waiting to destroy her while Daryil pointed and laughed at her dying soul...

"Right," Daryil said, "I'm no expert, but if you've done enough to have both Jyraneth and everyone else thinking you need to be punished, you're certainly in a bit of a pickle."

"What can I do?!" she yelped.  "If she finds me..."

"Calm down for a start," Daryil advised.  "There are ways to conceal yourself from a Leader.  I can't really tell whether Jyraneth would take that as a death offence, particularly since she must know her clan has been almost obliterated.  But if you want me to do it, I can.  She'd likely assume you'd died anyway."

"But she got to this Nick person!" Keaton snapped frantically.  "She'll be able to do that to me!  She must already know!"

"What she did to Nick and Sydney only works for younger 'Cubi who can still dream," Daryil said.  "She won't be able to do that to you anymore.  But if we move quickly, we can hide you from her."

"Is it reversible...?"

"Yes," Daryil said.  "I tried it on Jakob."

"And you'd do that for me?  Protect me from my own Leader?  Why would you even care?"

"Oh, not this again," Daryil said, pouting.  "Is that so hard to believe?  I know your past, Keaton, and in some ways it mirrors my own.  Believe it or not I am sympathetic to your plight.  I know what you've suffered and I'd like to see something good happen to you for a change.  That and... well, if you died, Furrae would be a much less interesting place."

"But most of all, you want to stop Jyraneth from reforming her clan," Keaton said.

"Well, that too, but like I said, most of them have gone to seed.  You know how disappointed you were when you met Nick?  Well... think what it's going to be like for her."


Sydney was in a state resembling concussion when he finally staggered through the portal.

"Ah, good!"  Professor Fa'Rana said.  "I was afraid we'd have to come and get you.  That wouldn't have got us off to a very good start now, would it...?"

"Hah," Syd said, still reeling slightly from his emotional freak-out as if mildly drunk.  "You'd have got me anyway, with that other portal, right?  Nice trick, by the way."

Lady Finch and the professor glanced at each other, faces lined with concern.

"What 'other portal'...?" the succubus demanded.  "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to produce even one of these things...?!"

"Who cares?  You're going to kill me anyway," the fox said.  And then fell through the floor.

"You little idiot," Bob said, as Sydney tumbled onto the grass beside Richard, who was hugging his knees and whimpering.  Falling was an interesting experience because the gate had opened below him but the destination emerged horizontally, giving him a rather strange sensation as gravity shifted 90 degrees and he landed on his back.

"I'm sorry," Sydney said, staring confusedly for a few moments before picking himself up and hugging his father.  "They were trying to take me somewhere... I think they wanted to kill me...  I'm really glad you were able to rescue me..."

"Ah, right," Bob said.  "That would explain a few things."

"Shouldn't you have known that, your Bobness?" Dorcan asked casually.  "I mean, aren't you kind of divine?"

"Yes, but sometimes I have problems seeing things and doing things at the same time," the pine marten shrugged.

"So you're the Bob that dad told me about once?  I didn't know you could be an autistic god..."  Sydney exclaimed, staring at the glowing figure in wonder and confusion.

"Divine power has fallen a long way," Dorcan muttered.

"Power has its price," Bob said.  "And for your information, it's not actually autism, it's to do with the fact that I'm not quite here on this plane.  What you're seeing now is a projection caused by me manipulating reality very slightly.  Warping it more aggressively, like making that portal or making a television set ascend to heaven, that produces a lot of noise and blinds my senses on your plane.

"Anyway, I've rescued you in the end, Sydney," Bob said,  "Despite your best attempts.  I think you owe me a favour now."

"What do you want...?" the fox gulped.  "I... I can't.. please don't make me do anything illegal or immoral..."

"I dunno," Bob said.  "'God told me to do it' is actually a pretty good excuse if you're caught.  But no, I won't do that.  I mean really, it's like any other cult or clan... if you ask too much of your followers they sod off and leave you.  Deification 101.
"Anyway, I haven't decided what yet.  It'll probably just be something boring like helping to spread the Word of Bob on Furrae.  If so, I won't bother you about it until you've finished your studies anyway."


Lord Daryil was snuggled up cozily inside his private inner sanctum when the call came in.  Most Clan Leaders had some kind of bolt-hole, underground or dimensionally isolated... these had come in handy when the Dragons attempted to kill them all, and for the most part no-one really noticed since a Leader could conduct most of their affairs by means of a projection or avatar.

Daryil was tucked up in front of a viewscreen with a stack of Demon-Sized cherry pies.  The fact that he was no longer able to obtain nourishment from food meant that he no longer got fat, but it didn't stop the pies from tasting good.
The call came in just as he was dangling a slice of pie in front of his mouth.  Hastily he hid it somewhere behind him, and snapped his fingers to accept the call.  The indignity!  Who would dare intrude...?

"How the hell did you get this number..." he snarled, wing-tentacles hissing and baring their teeth.

"Hi, Dar," the jackal incubus said demurely, "Sorry to disturb you again, but this is important."

"Oh, Callahan!" Daryil said, his anger melting away.  "What can I do for y... ewww."

"Yeah," Callahan said, his hands stained with blood, and an unhappy expression in his eyes.

"Is that... what I think it is...?" Daryil enquired.

"Yeah," the jackal said, "They sent me some fresh... Uhhh.  I'm sorry, my Lord... I... I don't know how much longer I can take this!  I hope they relieve me soon..."

"It can't be helped," Daryil sighed.  "It's horrible, but you're attached to a horrible clan.  Look, if you really can't cope, just say the word.  I don't want to see my Children suffer, and you've done so much for me already..."

"No, my Lord," Callahan said firmly.  "It's more important that you have an eye on things.  The Professor..."

"You've found something?!"  Daryil said, his expression hardening as he devoted his full attention to the jackal on the video screen.

"The Professor sent me a message," Callahan said.  "He's offered me a place in clan.  He's offered... He's offered to perform the ritual of transfer.  To bind me to Fa'Rana clan."

"Holy shit," Daryil said.  "It's a loyalty test, then...?"

"Yeah, I think so," the jackal said.  "If I refuse... well, I'm already suspect.  But if I show signs that I want to remain with Daryil Clan... they'll know..."

"Can't you make it look like you're hedging your bets?" Daryil said.  "That you might be able to make your peace with me...?"

"Oh, The Professor won't go for that," Callahan said.  "No, I'd have never got this far if he thought I had any love for you... Dar," he swallowed.  "They think I'm on the run from you..."

"My offer remains," Daryil said.  "I don't want to lose you, and I don't expect you really want to switch clans either."

"No," Callahan said.  "I'm caught between a rock and a hard place.  But the thing is... the ritual of transference..."

"I know," Daryil said.  "It only works with a Tri-winged clan.  And that means The Professor thinks he's going to ascend in the near future.  What the hell is he playing at...?"


"Daryil must have done this," The Professor snarled.  "No-one else would have both the power and the interest in kidnapping him.  But how could he have penetrated our shields and our wards?!"

"To Sydney's quarters," Lady Finch snapped, "Quickly!  I thought I saw my son there through the portal!"

"Don't rush me!" The Professor said, struggling to create a gate as fast as he could.

"Holy shit," he added as he stepped into the room where the fox had been cooped up.  "Richard was here...  I can feel his aura fading...  He went into this wall..."

"He's gone!" Lady Finch screamed, "They took him!  Lord Daryil has taken my son hostage!"


Daryil sat in his sanctum for a while after Callahan rang off, wondering what the hell was going on in Grunmore and whether he should be concerned about The Professor's apparent ambitions.  Elsewhere, one of his avatars was distracted by another call, this time on a less private number.

"Lord Daryil," the succubus said, her eyes glazed.  "The Professor has ordered a hit, a tax official named Silas Fitzwarren.  What are your orders?"

"Now Hear This, Ben," Daryil said, "You have already killed Fitzwarren.  You will return to regular duty."

"Yes, Professor," the succubus said, and hung off.

Spreading the word of Bob?

I guess that's a better dealing then what Keaton's fearing right now. I don't really think she has much to fear though, it seems like the Red queen has almost completly withdrawn into herself.

Though it does seem strange that she keeps connecting in her descendants dreams if she's still hiding and doesn't care for those of her clan that don't follow her beliefs.

Chapter 30

"I have called this meeting together for a specific purpose," Professor Fa'Rana said.  "Unfortunately, with the inauguration of Project Omega, we have now run out of Grecian letters for our projects, so we will need to decide upon a new series of codenames.  Does anyone have a suggestion?"

"Enough of this bollocks!" Lady Finch raged, "Lord Daryil has taken my son hostage!  What are we going to do about it?!"

"Very well," the raccoon snapped, "I'll have someone look into it.  Can we get on with the meeting?"

"He's my only son..." Finch said, but more quietly.

"Yes, I appreciate that, and I don't want him to come to harm any more than you do.  But to mount a proper investigation, we'll need a codename for that project.  So if we can get back to the matter at hand..."

"Very well," the wolf sulked.  "But if he dies..."

"We'd hear from Daryil first," The Professor said.  "He'd want to negotiate.  If he kills Richard at all - which I doubt - it will likely be to make an example of him to us.  In which case he'd want to make sure we were watching first."


The two succubi jumped as Professor Fa'Rana entered the room.

"Professor," the leopard said, "This is an unexpected pleasure!"

"Ah, I'm glad you got rid of that stupid anti-filter ward," he said.  "If they really wanted defences against 'Cubi... ah well.
"Look, Anja," the raccoon said, "Something's come up.  I want you and Victoria to investigate Daryil's house in Kingsfield, Grunmore... the one he filled with nylon washers... Lady Finch believes that he has kidnapped her son and is holding him hostage there." he placed a small briefcase on the ground.
"This case contains a standard-issue portable sonar unit to help you scan for cavities and so forth... I feel sure the washers are just a decoy.  You are to leave at once.  Oh... and if anyone tries to interfere with your searching, kill them."

"Yes, Professor," Anja said, and dialled a number on her desk phone.  The Professor sighed.

"Forget the call," he said.  "Whatever that is, it can wait.  This is urgent, you have to get there before Daryil can react.  If he thinks we're searching for him, he may do something rash so I need you out there now."

"Yes, Professor," Anja repeated vacantly and continued dialling.  The raccoon stared at her in puzzlement.

"What the hell do you think you're doing...?" he demanded.  "I just gave you an order!"

"Bill is calling Lord Daryil to brief him on the new orders," the vixen succubus said, her eyes glazed slightly.

"WHAT?!" the raccoon screamed.

Daryil's face appeared on the wall screen.  "Yes, Bill?" he said, and then froze as he saw Professor Fa'Rana gaping in the background like some kind of fish.

"Ben and I must investigate your house, number Nineteen, Kingsfield, where Lady Finch believes you are holding her son hostage.  If anyone interferes I must kill them.  What are your orders..."

"YOU TRAITOR!" The Professor yelled, and one of his wing-tentacles flew out in an arc, skewering the leopard succubus through the heart.  She gave a little cry and collapsed into a motionless heap like a condemned man cut from the gallows.

"Oh fuck," Daryil said, an expression of absolute mortification on his face.  "Oh fuck..."  'Ben' stood there quivering with terror, but unable to break the spell upon her.

"You murdering bastard," Daryil snarled, and signed off.

"You have betrayed me..." The Professor hissed, "And for that you must die.  Both of you!  You sold us all out, our whole clan...  You betrayed us to Daryil...  He even gave you codenames..."

As soon he got the words out, his expression suddenly did a series of flip-flops, from anger to shock, from shock to horror and then finally into guilt as he realised what had happened.  In front of him, Victoria was sweating with terror, but she was still standing exactly where she was, wild, staring eyes locked like gunsights upon the wall display where Daryil's visage had been...

"Conditioning..." the raccoon whispered, and cast a spell upon her.  "Possession... How could I have been so stupid..."  The vixen suddenly collapsed, sobbing with terror.

"I didn't want to..." she babbled, "I had to..."

"Oh gods," Professor Fa'Rana said, cradling the fallen leopard.  "Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't know...  I'm so sorry, Anja..."


"But to become a flesh and blood husky again, we'd have to sacrifice someone's soul," Joshua was saying.  "That's what you said, wasn't it?  Doesn't the idea of destroying someone's very soul prick your conscience, even a little...?"

"Who needs their soul?"  Haley said, shrugging.  "Once you're dead... what?  A year later and it's all gone!  Up in smoke!  Nothing's left."

"Purgatory," Joshua said.  "Then the afterworld.  The soul is not gone, it has simply passed out of our universe and entered another plane."

"Oh grow up, Josh," Haley snapped.  "No-one believes in those fairy-tales anymore."

"Except those who have come back," the husky replied calmly.

"Bullshit," Haley said.  "Hoaxes and fables.  Please be serious, darling.  I'm offering you the chance to become an incubus... I'm offering you a powerful and beautiful body that will live for thousands of years and grant you powers you can only dream of now!"

"After all you've said and done today," Josh said, "What makes you think I'd want to become a 'Cubi?"

"Oh, yes," Haley said, and giggled.  "I'd forgotten how scared you were of 'Cubi.  That was half the fun of being with you, you know, so much fear.
"And hah... remember when we first went out?  How you used to joke that I might be a succubus in disguise?  And I was, all along..."

Haley's laughter choked as she turned back to face Josh.  Two wings of fiery orange and red had appeared at the back of his head, with two larger ones flanking him.  It made him resemble some kind of avenging phoenix and his expression was not particularly comforting.

"Holy shit," she gurgled.  "You lied about being an android!"

"Is that all you know?" Josh asked, lip curling slightly, "Lies?  Are you really so deep in deception that you automatically assume everyone else is lying to you too?  Do you honestly think I'm so shallow that I'd deceive my own fiance?  Because it's not helping our relationship at all."

"We're 'Cubi," she snapped irritably.  "All our natural talents lie in deceiving the lesser races...  why the hell shouldn't we use them?!"

"Against our loved ones?  That's just stupid, Haley."

"As long as there is love between us, why should it matter?  Love is blind, after all."

"It matters because once someone lies to you, that means you can never trust them ever again," Joshua said coldly.  "A prank is one thing, and yes, in this harsh world there are often good reasons to hide if you're a member of an unpopular race.  But deceiving someone into thinking you loved them for your own sadistic pleasures is just fucking sick, even for 'Cubi."

"Oh, but Josh, you've got it all wrong," Haley sighed sadly.  "I've done that kind of thing before, but not to you..."

"I bet I'm not the first to hear that from you..."

"I did love you, Joshua.  That's why you're still alive!  After all, I could just have destroyed you and taken your place like all the others..."

"How many others were there?"  Josh asked casually, raising an eyebrow but otherwise unsurprised.  But Haley didn't seem to be listening.

"You were distracting me," she said, eyes slighly misty as she stared back into the past.  "Falling in love with you... oh no, that would never do.  And when my masters called me away to a new project in another territory... well, I had to end our relationship.  I'm sorry it had to be that way."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere," the husky said, placing his hands on his hips.  "The death really was a fake, then?"

"You know, I'm not really sure..." the malamute replied, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

"What?!  How can you not know...?" Joshua snarled.

"Well, it depends upon your point of view, I suppose," Haley said.  "I faked my death, yes, but I needed a fresh corpse that you'd recognise, preferably with signs of a struggle."

"Oh my gods..."

"Oh yes," she giggled.  "Why did you think that after a decade of rebuffing your clumsy, teenage advances, that Haley suddenly changed... suddenly got interested in you, husky-boy?
"She was me and you were so handy to have around... an alibi, a fun lover and a wonderful source of classified information.  But had to I keep the real Haley on ice the whole time, so that when I finally needed to disappear, I could cut away the parts of her fur which didn't match me in the fight, and leave behind a perfect fresh corpse, just for you."

"That sounds about right for a Fa'Rana succubus,"  Josh said.  Haley's laughter cut off abruptly and she froze, blinking for a few seconds.

"What makes you say that, honey?" she asked quietly.

"You called your leader 'The Professor'.  I know that Fa'Rana clan's leader, the one who branched the clan from Daryil's, was calling himself 'The Professor'.  You see, I read up on Professor Fa'Rana and his goons during the flight after it was suggested to me that they might be behind the massacre."

"Massacre...?  What are you talking about?"

"The one in the police station.  Where a violent warrior android appeared in the exact same spot and direction as a female doberman had been standing for thirty seconds three days before.  That was so you could isolate the Furrae Positioning System coordinates afterwards, wasn't it?  And when you were walking past the building while the massacre occurred, you were listening out for the pain and terror, right?"

"Oh Josh, Josh," Haley buried her head in her hands.  "I love you.  I have done for a long, long time.  It started out a lie, but you grew on me, and before I knew it, I was in far deeper than I intended at first.  You may know how deep 'Cubi emotions run, but you have no idea how hard this is going to be."

The sled dog succubus' wings became tentacles, and her expression hardened, despite the tears in her eyes.  "Why did it have to be you who found out about Sophie?  I'm sorry, dear.  I'm so, so..."

For Josh, the change was small.  Just a teeny, tiny mental shift and to him it was as though Haley had slowed down.  To anyone else who may have seen it, he became a blur, like Sonia in the video of the massacre... leaning, swaying as his fist delivered precisely the amount of force needed to knock her out.  It slammed into the side of Haley's skull just as she realised what was happening and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

Ooo burned, feeling sorry for Josh poor husky it wasn't a lie but it was. Also is he still an android or a mix?

Quote from: justacritic on November 10, 2012, 12:56:15 PM
Also is he still an android or a mix?

He is an android.  Since Project Future they have been working on giving more 'Cubi abilities to androids, Josh is kind of acting as a testbed for them.

Furry revolution: The conspiracy.

Speaking of that, I wonder if brain implants or any Augmentation exist in this (split) universe, because if they would I'm pretty sure that the lines between creature and being would dissapear over time.

Chapter 31

One of the advantages of being a Being-turned-robotic-incubus was that Josh could suppress his emotions a lot more quickly than the real thing.  Sometimes it was almost like he was still a Being, and he speculated that in some ways, Haley's offer to make him a true, flesh-and-blood incubus might have been a disappointment.

Josh used Haley's wallscreen to make the call.  He routed it through to a one-time-use dummy number that no-one could connect with Starfire Intelligence, from there to his own office and finally on to Jayhawk, to confuse any potential allies of Haley should they attempt to investigate the call registry.

"Hi Josh," Niall said.  He lay shirtless on the sofa in the common room, lounging in a predatory manner as if trying to seduce Joshua.  "How did it go?  Did you find out what happened to your ex?"

"It was interesting," Josh said, paying no attention to the grey fox's pose, 'Cubi just did things like that from time to time, an urge he now understood perfectly well.
"She... well, it looks like she was replaced by a succubus when she was about nineteen."

"Aw shit," the fox said, wincing.  "You mean she killed the real one...?"

"Yeah.  She was stringing me along, I think, though she claimed that she started to fall for her own sham.  But get this... she seems to have been tied up with the massacre.  And she's a Fa'Rana."

"Oh crap," Niall moaned, and sat up.  "Are you sure?"

"Take a look," Josh said and picking her up, peeled back some of the unconscious succubus' clothing to reveal her orange clan marking to the wall display.

"Dammit!  That band of crazies have been quiet for centuries, and now... now it's like they're making up for lost time!"

"I need to figure out what to do with her," the husky said.  "I can't let her go and I can't take her with me on the flight... Customs and immigration hate it when you bring dead or unconscious people back into the country and she's too big to count as hand-luggage."

"You want us to take her off your hands, you mean?"  Niall asked slyly.  "Yeah, I agree.  Daryil must know about this at once.  We'll want to ask her a few questions, and if we don't turn her over to the authorities, we'll still need to keep her secure until this blows over.
"I'll send Kirian to you.  Want to come as well?"

"No," Josh said.  "I mean, I'd love to... but if I don't take a conventional return flight it's going to look really weird on my passport."

"This is important," Niall said.  "I think you should come.  But I can have Kirian drop you off at the airport after we're done here."


"Thank you for coming, Sheila," Daryil said, offering the Border succubus an orange lollipop as she entered his study.  "I'm sorry to distract you from your schooling again, but I need to know something about Richard."

"What is it, milord?" the Border said.  She was less scared of Daryil now, especially since he only had two pairs of wings at this time, but all the same, it was difficult to...

"I think the time has come that I should try to contact Professor Fa'Rana directly," Daryil said, "and see if I can find some peaceful solution to what seems to be some kind of cold war between our two clans.
"But being your typical mad professor, he's hiding in some kind of complex, probably hidden in Grunmore, and that makes things harder.  Any self-respecting evil genius will have an ex-directory number as telemarketer calls in the middle of an evil scheme can be disasterous."

Sheila blinked, not quite sure whether he was serious.  She could think of nothing to say.

"Of course, most telemarketing campaigns are evil schemes," Daryil added.  "But the point is, I don't have Professor Fa'Rana's phone number.  Now, I could try and root him out, pay a personal call, but it would make him panic and that would be very bad.  But then I remembered... you've seen Richard's phone!  Did you by any chance catch the number?"

"I'm sorry, my Lord," the succubus replied, "It just said 'Mom', and I'm not sure I'd remember it anyway."

"I'm quite good at hypnotic regression," Daryil said.  "But if you never saw it in the first place, I'll have to think of something else."

"My Lord," Sheila said timidly, "If they're so dangerous..." she struggled, not knowing quite how to put it.

"Why haven't I tried to purge them from Parbury or wipe them out?"  Daryil asked innocently, and poked his tongue out.

"Well, I didn't think of it in quite those terms, but..."

"Violence like that... it's never a good solution," Daryil said.  "And besides, after the war with Ti'Nera's clan... Oh, no.  I don't want that to happen ever again if I can avoid it."

Sheila whimpered slightly, and took a step back.  "I didn't mean..."

"No, I appreciate your asking.  I've been trying to make my clan pacifistic like Dimanika's, but... well, it's not an easy thing to achieve in practice.  In short, AAIIEEE!"

Sheila fell on the floor, prostrating herself before the Tri-wing and radiating terror.  Then she realised that Daryil was almost as scared himself, his fur puffed out and his wings in a very threatening pose.  His very form had become unstable for a moment.

"HOW DID YOU GET IN?!" he shrieked at something behind her.  "This place is warded!"

"Dar, it's me," Dorcan said nervously.  Daryil clapped one hand over his eyes for a moment and when he had calmed down, he settled back into a position a little bit more like the one he had used while chatting with Sheila.

"Are we in trouble, Dad?" Sydney asked nervously, his headwings still fanned out after Daryil's outburst.  Sheila let out a gasp and ran to hug the fox, forgetting her terror of Daryil for a moment.  Richard was still curled up on the floor next to Dorcan's bike, which had also materialised along with a small quantity of turf.

"No, you're not in trouble," Daryil said, causing Sheila to exhale a large sigh of relief.  "But I still want to know how you lot managed to breach my protective wards," he added, sulkily.

"A passing god gave us a lift,"  Dorcan said.

"Bob?" Daryil asked, and relaxed back into his normal self again as he surveyed the trio.

"Ah, just the man!" he said happily.  "Richard, I want... Richard...?"  Daryil peered at the quivering incubus uncertainly.  He concentrated, giving his avatar more power and abilities.  "Oh dear, he seems to be in a state of shock."

"Well, yeah," Dorcan said.  "Having a Tri-wing scream at him didn't help any, but I think it was the sight of Bob that really set him off.  Oh yeah, and Bob wanted me to give you this..." he handed Daryil a torn scrap of paper.  On it were the words "Lady Finch" and a number.

"Thank you, Oh Great and Powerful Bob!"  Daryil said happily, staring at the empty ceiling in rapture as if he had seen some kind of glorious vision.

Don't mention it, an unearthly voice replied.

"Well, I just hope The Professor doesn't have a god of his own to call on," Sheila said, sounding a little worried.


Illiath was a leather-winged Doberman succubus, corn-yellow hair down to her neckline and held fast by a headband, fur a mixture of blue and grey, unnatural colours that marked her for a Creature.  A large broadsword was strapped to her back and she was clad in a suit of light armour.  Adventuring had been in something of a decline for the last century, but there was still a strong demand for armour, especially discreet stuff.

The set she wore was dual-use, outwardly resembling motorcycle gear, but also providing the wearer with bulletproofing and protection against bladed and magical weapons.  It had proven popular with motorcyclists, adventurers and Creatures who lived openly among Beings but feared random assassination - something that was still occasionally a problem in some of the more rural areas.

The ominous curves and bulges in the armour combined with the sword and her own dour expression made Illiath look far more like a bounty hunter than the headmistress of a higher education establishment, but she'd always looked like that anyway, even before the attack.

Maybe I should have worn the sword at work too, she thought wryly.  But then again, in my long life I've been a student, a headteacher, an adventurer, a bounty hunter.  I wonder which of those I am right now...?

A copy of the school prospectus lay on her desk, the cover showing her in that very same set of armour, being hugged over-enthusiastically by Daryil while she made an irritable get-this-idiot-off-me face.  At the time it had been annoying, but now it seemed so precious, a memory to be treasured.  After this attack, who will trust us with their children again...? she wondered.

With a sigh, Illiath brushed the book aside and cast a spell upon a large mirror in the centre of her study.  Moments later, the surface was filled with a large, grey face... part lioness, part porcupine.  All incredibly dangerous.

"Must we use this newfangled magic?"

"Hi Granny," Illiath said, allowing herself a thin smile for the first time that week.

"Never call me that," Taun replied, her expression neutral and calm, almost distant or cold.  "I'm glad you are safe, child.  Pity about your school, but that was always a risk partnering with Daryil."

"I believe all the first-year students were safely evacuated," the Doberman said.  "Later years hadn't started at the time of the attack and have now been warned not to attend until further notice.
"However, I managed to pull some feathers from one of my attackers.  I was wondering if you could forward them to the 'Cubi registry for identification?"

"Good work, my child, but a little late.  That... Daryil has already written to me.  He believes that the Fa'Rana clan are behind this outrage, whatever his opinion may be worth."

Illiath frowned at the slur, but said nothing.  Taun was very much a traditionalist and Daryil had outraged several clan Leaders in his earlier days with his pretentions of being a Tri-wing prior to his actual ascension.  Illiath was well aware that her Leader was one of these and would probably not be on speaking terms with the fox for thousands of years to come.

"You've spent too much time in Daryil's influence," Taun continued.  "You are not thinking clearly."

"Lord Daryil, Granny," Illiath grouched.  "He changed his first name."

"Never call me that.  Most of the first-years are safe, albeit in his care.  All the students are accounted for except for Sydney Ja'Fell and Richard Fa'Rana.  Supposedly the Fa'Rana clan orchestrated this... indignity... solely to kidnap him."

The Tri-Wing paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly.  "Five one four," she said.

"Sorry?"  Illiath asked, one of her wing-tentacles slamming into the chin of someone behind her and to the right.  "Oh, five-one-four!  Already on it."

"I thought you said this place was secure," Taun said impassively.  "You are getting clumsy."

"Nah, I can take 'em," Illiath said as she punched another assailant unconscious without turning.  "And it was secure.  The wards were untouched."

"Maybe they planted a tracking device," Taun suggested, as her great, great, great granddaughter throttled someone with her tentacles.  "Actually, send me the feathers anyway.  They might be from another clan entirely."

"We won't know until we try," Illiath said, casually searching through her pockets as she blocked a club blow with one of her wings.

"Now you're showing off," Taun complained.  "Remember what I told you.  Pride before a fall!"

Illiath's expression suddenly changed as her fist struck something that wasn't meaty like the others, but instead hard and made a resounding metallic clang at her strike.  She glanced around in surprise as a female horse with a strangely blank expression grabbed her with overpowering strength and then folded up into nothingness, taking the succubus with her.

Taun stared back at the mirror, her distant, impassive countenance suddenly shaken.  Who would dare kidnap one of my Children before my very eyes?
Taun's face twisted and for a few brief moments she became the embodiment of her clan's emotional affinity.  Rage.


Cautiously, Nick entered the room just as Richard was starting to come around again.

"You sent for me, Lord Daryil?" he asked nervously.

"Yep," Daryil said.  "I'd like you and Sheila to show Sydney about the complex.  He and Richard will also need quarters here until we have been able to assign some for them.  You will also need to inform Professor Falkirk of their return when convenient."

"Just Sheila?"  Nick blinked.  "Richard as well?"

"Not yet.  I need to talk to him first.  Alone."

There was a silence.  Sheila and Sydney looked at each other worriedly, and Nick looked at the floor instead.

"Do you want us to leave?"  The yellow jackal asked after a brief pause.

"Well, I suppose you could start the tour of my office, but the rest of the building is much more interesting," Daryil said.  "I will conduct this... inquiry in another room anyway, so it's up to you." he turned to face Sydney's father.

"Dorcan?  I'll be back shortly, if you'd like to wait here, I'd love to catch up.  Oh, and nice leathers," he added, studying the muscular Doberman's motorcycle gear appreciatively.  "I tried to get Keaton into some, but she wouldn't..."

Richard made an unhappy, fearful sound and began to stir.  Daryil helped him up, and then gently but firmly led him out of the room.

"Where are you taking me...?" the white jackal whimpered.  

"To the Master," Daryil said, as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Y-you mean you're not in charge...?"

"Not as such," the fox said, opening the door that led into a large warehouse.

"Then who is?  Who do you work for...?" the jackal gibbered.

"Me," a voice said.  Richard turned with a start, and saw another Daryil, about eight, nine foot tall.  He was dressed in regal attire, with the mark of Daryil upon his chest and three sets of wings.  A strange tingling feeling passed through Richard's body as he approached and his thoughts became clearer and sharper than he had ever remembered before.

"But... you're..." he gabbled.

"He's Daryil," the first Daryil said helpfully.

"But then... who are you?"

"I'm nobody," the fox told him and disappeared with a bow.

"Come in, Richard," Lord Daryil said, "We have a lot to discuss."

I wonder if there was a Cubi to Cubi world war.

Quote from: justacritic on November 17, 2012, 10:51:34 AM
I wonder if there was a Cubi to Cubi world war.

There have been wars between clans.  IIRC Abel alluded to a large conflict that I suspect the Dragons may have engineered.
Whatever the case, some clans still hold grievances, at least in the time leading up to DMFA.
Interestingly, Taun seems to make it her business to try and prevent these (recall Fa'Lina taking her into account wrt. Aniz angering Zinvth and Jin's clan), Taun's clan being - in a sense - protectors of their race.  She also tends to see the long view and doesn't typically have this kind of grudge, so don't expect her to move immediately.


EDIT: Oh, and this is Illiath:
https://www.weasyl.com/character/5995
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/8482124/
http://tapewolf.deviantart.com/art/Illiath-Taun-316070598

http://www.project-future.org/stuff/things/Illiath-25-shaded.png

I enjoyed the more light-hearted scenes at the begining of the latest chapter. It's good to take a break from all those tense situations from time to time. I was surprised you decided to include Taun in the story, but I do think her part in it was interesting.

I laughed at these parts:

Quote"Of course, most telemarketing campaigns are evil schemes."

Quote"Thank you, Oh Great and Powerful Bob!"  Daryil said happily, staring at the empty ceiling in rapture as if he had seen some kind of glorious vision.

Don't mention it, an unearthly voice replied.

Quote from: Gabi on November 18, 2012, 02:58:18 PM
I enjoyed the more light-hearted scenes at the begining of the latest chapter. It's good to take a break from all those tense situations from time to time. I was surprised you decided to include Taun in the story, but I do think her part in it was interesting.

I did a bit of research, asked Amber a bit about her too.  For the most part my impression of her seems to have been pretty accurate.  However, it's not clear that she would react quite so emotionally to Illiath's kidnap - AFAIK that's the only thing which really diverges from Amber's impression of her, and even then I think I've managed to correct that to within respectable tolerances, since her reaction is measured enough that it doesn't take place for a number of chapters.

She is liable to make a couple of other small appearances, but for the most part I'll be focussing on original character members of her clan rather than Taun herself.

I like how Daryil handles Richard in this instalment of story.

Avatars probably would save many a Tri-wings lives. But it makes me wonder of the trade-offs. Obviously, they certainly wouldn't be as powerful as the actual Tri-wings. But it makes you wonder if they're other trade-offs as well.

Though the interaction between Taun and one of her distant children was also interesting. Though Rage is known to be the clans affinity, it would make sense for the battle hardened Taun to keep her emotions almost sterile.

I'm guessing she would be a terror and a danger if you ever managed to enrage her.

Quote from: joshofspam on November 18, 2012, 09:01:57 PM
I like how Daryil handles Richard in this instalment of story.

Avatars probably would save many a Tri-wings lives.

It can be a problem, actually. A dragon or similar powerful foe can use the link to reach the Tri-Wing and attack them.

In the Project Future / Epsilon time period, this is not such a problem.

QuoteThough the interaction between Taun and one of her distant children was also interesting. Though Rage is known to be the clans affinity, it would make sense for the battle hardened Taun to keep her emotions almost sterile.

Yes.  She takes the long-term view and as such can seem somewhat distant.  I assumed that from the Taun Letter and her expression on the clan leaders page, turns out it was pretty much accurate.

Chapter 32

Illiath awoke to find herself lying in a small prison cell.  Well, she thought, At least I have woken up.  Enough of my kind have been stunned and ended up with their heads lopped off or their throats cut while they were unconscious.

Her sword was missing, and they had replaced her armour with a plain shirt and trousers, which stood to reason.  Around her wrists were a pair of bracers, leeching at her powers and preventing her from properly studying her prison.  Illiath stared at them for a moment, closed her eyes and began rerouting the lines of force that ebbed and flowed around her wrists like some kind of ethereal spaghetti.  There was a bright flare as the spell crashed, and her wings reappeared.  That'll teach 'em to skimp on the restraints, she thought.

Without delay the Doberman studied the bars and bricks of her cell - the door itself was warded and alarmed as she had suspected, but the rest of it wasn't.  Stupid! she thought to herself.
The bars seemed the best approach, so Illiath morphed her wings and began to gently bend them out of shape.  Just as the bars were starting to come loose, she became aware of a bright light behind her.  Some kind of portal.  How cute!

With a shrug, Illiath concealed her backwings and turned to face the gate.  The succubus cautiously entered, shielding her eyes from the bright light, her posture, face and emotions radiating a kind of scared bewilderment that she didn't really feel.
Two people stood waiting, a wolf succubus and a raccoon, also 'Cubi.  Instinctively she sized the pair up and headed towards the raccoon.

Professor Fa'Rana smiled in a friendly way as the cowering dog approached, and held out one hand as if to help her up.  As she came closer, he opened his mouth to say something.  Instead there was a sharp crack as the Doberman punched the side of his head, and he collapsed unconscious to the ground, oblivious even to Lady Finch's screams for assistance.  Illiath punched her too, carved a double-crescent mark into The Professor's forehead, and finally kicked down the door for good measure before storming out of the room.

Now this is what it's like to be alive, she thought, a savage grin spreading across her face.


"Well Richard," Daryil said, his arms folded and his face expressionless, "We meet at last."

"How do you know about me...?" Richard quailed.  "What are you going to do to me...?"

"That depends on you, Richard," Daryil said impassively, adjusting his black travelling cloak again.

"How much do you know about me...?"

"I know everything," Daryil told him.  "I know your whole life, I know every time you found someone attractive, your whole sex life.  I know even things you don't remember consciously yourself."

"How!?" the jackal whimpered.

"You know that little symbol thing on your wrist?"  Daryil said, "That represents me.  As you stand here in my admittedly kind of awesome presence, I know everything you've ever done, Richard.  And I must say, I'm very proud of you."

"What?!" the jackal croaked, gawking at his Leader, wings fluffed out.

"Just kidding," Daryil said.  "Actually I'm kind of disappointed, but we both knew that already, right?  Frankly, given your upbringing you haven't done too badly.  I mean, sure, you're a murderous little oik who's broken the Second Tenet more than a dozen times, but I can't really fault you for taking your parents' teachings to heart.
"You're still very young, Richard, even for a Being.  There's plenty of time to soften you, for you to grow into someone I actually can be proud of, or at least find a less harmful way to burn off your aggressive energies like Cass does."

"But-" Richard started,

"He didn't," Daryil said.  Richard blinked foolishly.

"You mean-"

"Well, yes.  Your link to me is very much alive."

"But that..."  Richard fluffed out in terror.

"Nah," Daryil said.  "I'm not going to hurt him."

"Please stop reading my mind like that," Richard begged.

"Oh, all right," Daryil said.  "But yeah.  Your father didn't succeed in blocking his link to me.  Or yours.  But I'm easy... if he really wants to ally himself with dangerous crazies like The Professor, that's his prerogative.
"See, I figure he'll probably see the error of his ways sooner or later, and come back into my family.  He will be required to do penance for his crimes, after which it will all be forgiven.  But at the end of the day, he's perfectly free to leave my clan if that's what he really wants to do.  The same goes for you too, by the way."

"You... you wouldn't kill him?"

"Not unless he starts murdering fellow clan members, no.  It's always better to redeem than to punish," the Tri-wing said.

"Thank you, my Lord," Richard said quietly, looking up at Daryil earnestly for the first time.

"I'm not a monster," Daryil replied simply.


Lying sleek upon his bed, with the bracers jamming his powers and hiding his wings, Professor Idris James still had that indefinable something that gave him the look of a disguised incubus.  Following his incarceration, the wildcat had given up on maintaining the official uniform for members of staff, discarding his top to reveal a lean and attractive torso.  Now, if only there was someone else here to practice with.  It's so hard to plan seduction classes on your own...

He looked up with a happy grin as the intruder entered.  My prayers have been answered!

"Oh damn, it's you again." he said irritably.  "Still no deal.  And where's your fine friend?"

"Oh, you mean my clan leader?" Lady Finch said, curling her lip cruelly.  There was a bruise on the side of her head.  "The Professor is indisposed at the moment.  In fact, I'll level with you... he doesn't even know I'm here!"

"Ah!" James said brightly.  "So you've decided to torture me now?  This should be fun!  Just don't expect to get any decent results."

"We'll see about that," Finch purred confidently.  "But before I begin, just tell me one simple little thing and I'll go easier on you.  Who else do you think is being held prisoner alongside you?"

"You mean you don't know?" the wildcat sneered.

"Ah, but I want to find out how much you know.  You see, if you won't cooperate, then I'll torture your fellow staff in front of you.  And if you prove particularly stubborn, I can force you to watch while they're executed," she smiled sweetly, and made a looping gesture with one of her wing-tentacles as if she was using them to remove someone's head.

"Illiath?" James said, blinking.  "Is that you...?"

Lady Finch scowled and became blue in the face for a moment, showing a flash of her true colouring.

"You weren't supposed to realise that," she snapped, dropping back to Illiath's voice.  "But dammit, yes.  How did you know?"

"You overdid the whole psycho thing.  Finch may be nuts and she may have anger control issues, but she clearly didn't go around killing people as a hobby," he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"I did that for a living, dammit!"  Illiath snarled angrily, giving in to one of her emotional affinities.  "I'm a Taun, not some high-school dropout with a sword!  Granny expects us all to serve as mercenaries or adventurers to give us combat experience.  And for your information, I've killed people in honest self-defence, but I never once killed a target unless I was sure they were guilty, sure that they had a proven track record of killings and they refused to surrender!  Now, do you want to be rescued or not...?"

"I'm sorry, headmistress," James said quietly.

"Yeah, I know, you come from a pacifist clan," the succubus sighed.  "Now tell me, any idea who else is being held prisoner?"

"I'm not sure.  I saw Neve go down, though... she should be here, probably Stephens as well.  I think Shreve got away, though."

"Yes, I sent Shreve after Falkirk and Jevex.  I hope they're all safe..." she said, and looked uncharacteristically worried for a moment.

"Headmistress," the wildcat said, "Assuming we find the others, how are we going to get out of here?  Where are we, even?"

"I don't know," Illiath said, switching back to Lady Finch's voice.  "I'm hoping to find out where we are and how to get out of here first, and then rescue the others then.  Having a group of us wandering lost around the complex will increase the risk of detection."

"Do you have a warp-aci?" the professor asked.

"Lord Daryil always said they were for little girls," Illiath said.  "Taun did as well.  So I never saw much point once I was old enough to actually summon one.  I suppose it's peer pressure to some extent, but still... it's hard to do a covert operation to bring in a fugitive when you have this little glowing thing floating about and constantly demanding ice-cream."

"We could really do with one now," the wildcat said.  "We should probably have had a few to act as messengers on campus, like they do at SAIA..."

"Are you questioning my judgement...?" the succubus asked haughtily.  James took a step back, convinced for a moment he really was talking to Lady Finch.  Then wondering whether he might be safer off with Lady Finch if the headmistress was pissed at him.

"Uh... no," he stammered, "I didn't mean..."

"Well I have been," she sighed.  "But yes, the school didn't really seem large enough to merit them.  If there still is a school after this fiasco, it's one of the first things I'll change.  If nothing else, it will give us better evacuation facilities.
"Now, we'd better get going.  I can probably deactivate those bracers, but you'll have to keep your wings hidden and keep wearing them.  We'll pretend it's a prisoner transfer or something."

"I've decided to cooperate, but you're not quite convinced," James said.

"Works for me," the wolf succubus said, and began to neutralise her colleague's restraints.


"So, I was wondering," one of Daryil's avatars was asking, "Whether you have any idea what Jyraneth actually did when she disappeared."

Keaton gave a shrug.  It could have been far more insolent than it was, but she was still rather shaken by the idea of her Leader making a comeback.  It's all very well cherishing her beliefs and my old clan, she thought, But fuck, Jyraneth scares me.

Once upon a time, when Keaton had been in her early teens, she and her sister Lianna had enchanted their favourite marble, a simple spell that made it return to the person who had last thrown it.  Proud of their work, they had showed it off to some of their friends, and word of it had spread around to other youths in their city.  A day or so later, the marble went missing.

By means of the enchantment, Lianna discovered that it had been stolen by an older boy, and desperate to retrieve it, Keaton had borrowed a large and wickedly sharp knife from her father's smithy.  Her threats to gut the thief like a Being quickly convinced him to return his prize, and the knife was duly returned to its place with their father none the wiser.

Not too long afterwards, a number of 'Cubi turned up at their door, cloaked entirely in black, their faces hidden.  Queen Jyraneth's secret police.

The Judicators took Salem away with them, fighting to maintain his calm in the face of the terror he felt.  She would never forget that moment just as he left, turning to look at them both with a sad smile, and the words "Keaton, Lianna... if... If I don't come back, I want you to remember that I loved you both."

Jyraneth's doctrine was that children were considered to be innocent and pure, and slaying a child was a crime that would cost the perpetrator their very soul.  For one child to threaten another's life in that manner could only mean that her parents had corrupted her with some baleful influence that defied the Red Queen's will.  Keaton's mother had once been a Judicator herself, so the fault must have been Salem's.
Had Keaton actually harmed the bully, it could easily have robbed them of her loving father's existence.  When he had finally returned, pale and shaking, he had told his childen, gently but firmly, that they must never, ever, ever threaten to harm another child again, and promptly collapsed into the nearest chair, head cupped in his hands.

Keaton and Lianna had gone to their rooms in tears, and even now, so many centuries later, the fear of Jyraneth and the Lady's justice sent an icy chill down her spine as she remembered what had nearly happened that day.

It's true; Illiath is the best

Quote from: Merlin on November 23, 2012, 09:21:59 PM
It's true; Illiath is the best

She certainly has been fun to write.  I should find something new for her to do since she's been a bit quiet in the chapters I'm currently writing.

If you missed chapter 32, go back and read it, otherwise the Illiath business won't make sense :3
This chapter should answer a few of llearch's questions from before.


Chapter 33

"Keaton...?" Daryil said and reached towards her face, patting one of her cheeks.

"Whuz!?" the jackal said, panicking and looking around in case Jyraneth was there...

"Are you alright?  You spazzed out for a while there."  Daryil looked worried.

"Sorry... I was thinking about something..."

"Jyraneth, yeah, I figured.  Look, I'll shield you from her sight, just temporarily," he said, and his hands began to glow slightly.  Keaton felt a pressure somewhere in the back of her mind easing up very slightly.

"I don't really know what happened when she disappeared," she said slowly, sufficiently wrapped up in her own fear that she forgot to be awkward.  "The Kamei'Sin never found her, or they'd have destroyed her too.  She must have dug herself some kind of bunker and hid there."

"Supposing she did," Daryil mused.  "She'd have warded it, right?  Made it so that only her children could get in..."

"That really worked well for the city itself," Keaton snarled.  "But yeah, I guess she would.  Holy shit... you think..."

"Someone dug her up?"  Daryil said.  "It's possible."


"Lady Finch," James said, after a while, as they went through the corridors, "You're one of the toughest people I know.  How did you end up here?"

"Oh, I was invited by a mare," the succubus replied casually.  "It was such a good offer, I really couldn't refuse."

"Ah, Sophie?  Or Trixie?"

"She didn't say," Illiath shrugged.  "Oh!  In here," she added, as if she'd just walked past the door she meant to enter.  "I hope," she muttered as an afterthought, and began picking the lock.  Professor James obscured her actions from view, searching through his pockets as if looking for something, but no-one disturbed them and in any case, Illiath taught the breaking-and-entering classes herself and the lock proved little match for her.

Walking inside, the succubus gave a muted gasp and radiated happiness as they switched on the lights in the armoury. 
"Come to mummy," she said eagerly, spotting her own armour neatly folded on a shelf.  "Hmm, no sign of my sword, though.  See if you can find it while I change."

"Must we?" the incubus asked, plaintively.

"I'm a skilled warrior," Illiath grumbled, losing her Lady Finch appearance and voice.  "I can use a broadsword for a lot more than just killing someone.  Besides, it's mine and I want it back.  You might also look for some protection yourself."

The wildcat hurried away, returning a few minutes later.  "I couldn't find yours," he said, once Illiath was comfortable in her armour again.  "But there is this, if it helps.  There's also a few stun gems.  Couldn't find any body armour that would fit, though."

"Hmm," the Doberman said, taking the broadsword and weighing it.  "Yes, I think it will do for now.  You might want to stand back."  James did.

So saying, she adopted a fighting stance, hefting the weapon and practicing, getting a feel for the blade and its balance.  Professor James shielded his eyes in horror as she did a vicious side-swipe at neck height, and turned away.

"I doubt I'll need to do that," she said, picking up his emotions.  "But it's best to be prepared for anything."  She jumped in the air, using one of her wings for extra thrust, and the other to block a sword strike from some imaginary foe.  Professor James watched quietly, as if deeply preoccupied about something.

"Illiath," he said eventually, and the succubus turned for a second, slightly surprised at the use of her first name and the soft manner in which he'd uttered it.  "It's something I've never... well, I guess I never really had the courage to ask before, but... well, what does Daryil think about your career as a warrior?"

"Granny would say 'Who cares what Daryil thinks?'," she replied, turning her attention back to her exercises.  "And yeah, you'd think it would be awkward.  And sometimes it has been painful, having parents from two clans with such different goals and beliefs.  Whatever Granny may think of him, I like Daryil and I do my best to accommodate his and my Dad's wishes.  I mean, urgh... can you imagine Taun hosting a Yule party...?  No thanks."

"I hope I'm not prying too much," the wildcat said hastily.

"Nah, it's not something I keep a secret.  And yeah, I like Daryil a lot.  But at the end of the day I was born into Taun's clan, not his, so my loyalty is to her first and foremost.  Dad knew what he was getting into, having a child with someone from a warrior clan.  He knew that Taun would expect me to have warrior training, as did Daryil himself."

"Did Daryil ever try to prevent that?  I mean, killing people is against his Tenets, isn't it?"

"If you want to protect people by becoming a guard or a sword-for-hire, go ahead but please be very careful about who you kill," she quoted, twisting suddenly in a manner that would have killed or seriously injured multiple enemies had she been cornered.

"The Tenets are decrees against soul-stealing and murder," she continued.  "Killing per se is acceptable in the right circumstances, same as in most jurisdictions.  Self-defence, a licensed operative bringing in a rampaging Creature or gunman, things like that.  You don't get a free pass, but they'll usually clear you after the investigation.  That's all above board.
"But going on a rampage, or if I'd decided I wanted to be an executioner when I grew up...?  Oh yeah, Daryil would be pissed about that!  And I don't think Granny would like it much either," she added.  "Flagrant abuse of any sort is not permitted, be it abuse of the mind, body or soul."

"I was kind of wondering whether it was Daryil's influence that drove you to become a headteacher," Professor James queried.  "Whether it was the Daryil side of your family that pushed you to to take a less bloody career..?"

"A bit," Illiath admitted.  "But at the end of the day, it was my own decision.  I'll be honest, adventuring and mercenary work was getting dull, and that's the worst of all worlds.  It's still liable to get you killed, even more so if you stop paying attention and it doesn't even have the thrill to make up for it.
"So no, I didn't take much persuading, and Daryil was thrilled when I told him I wanted to quit and start a new school.  Granny was less enthusiastic, even less so when she found out who was supporting it.
"But don't get me wrong, I haven't given it up completely.  Granny would never forgive me if I let myself get rusty.  We're kind of like her army and she wants us combat ready at all times... you may have noticed that occasionally I leave the school for a few weeks a year?  Some of that's training - the rest is adventuring missions with my old group."

"You know," she added, with a grin, "It's all very well for you to bitch that I'm some kind of cold-blooded killer, but at least a warrior is an honest job, Mr. Professor-of-Seduction.  'Cubi have far too much of a bad rep for deception and evil plots.  Sometimes I wonder why Daryil wanted it in the curriculum at all."

"Now wait a minute," the wildcat growled.  "I teach my pupils to use their skills responsibly!  It's a seduction class, not rape..."

"A pulling class," Illiath smirked.  "Now how about-"

"How about you put the sword on the ground?" a new voice said.  "And don't make any sudden moves.  Ursula and Vera here can be very dangerous, as you both should know very well."


"I'm so glad you're back, Sydney," Sheila said, her tail swishing gently behind her as she led the fox down the corridor, Nick trailing behind.  "You don't know how much I've missed you.  Richard as well..."

"Even though he caused this mess?" Sydney asked, raising an eyebrow but still smiling.

"Daryil seemed to be relaxed about it all," Sheila said.  "If he's easy with Richard being back here, I don't see why we should give him a hard time over it.  What do you think of the complex so far, anyway?"

"It's kind of sparse," Sydney said.

"Yeah, well, there were only about a dozen people on-site before we came here."

"I need to use the bathroom," Nick said, and wandered off.  Syd leaned against the wall, waiting, but Sheila didn't seem to be able to relax.  Syd knew that it was rude to pry upon the thoughts or emotions of others nearby, but he couldn't help noticing that she was somehow on edge.

"Sydney," the Border said suddenly, "I wouldn't usually ask this... but I... I was wondering..."

Sydney glanced around at his friend, and his eyebrow raise slightly as she was clearly having some kind of internal struggle.  "Take your time," he said.

"I was wondering... would you like to go to bed with me...?"


"Very well," Illiath said, raising one hand, and slowly placing the sword on the ground with the other.  "I don't need a sword to deal with the likes of you anyway," she added, as the wolf incubus came up to her and kicked it away.

"Don't be a fool," he snarled.  "My androids are watching.  Fa'Rana Clan doesn't want violence against other 'Cubi, even our enemies - but they'll protect me with lethal force if you make them.  Would you want to take that risk?"

"Ooh, look over there!"  Professor James said, pointing at something in fascination.

"You must think I'm an idiot," the wolf spat, disgustedly.  Behind him, the two robot mares followed James' gaze, and there was a sharp crack from beside Illiath.

"Oh shit, are you okay?" she said, reaching down to examine the fallen wolf, her eyes wide with surprise and pity.  "He banged his head," she told the two mares, who watched impassively.

"We must now take you prisoner by ourselves," they said in perfect unison, stepping forward slowly.  "Please do not struggle or you may be harmed."

"Please don't do that," Illiath said quickly, and the robots hesitated for a moment.

"You are not authorised to countermand our orders," they said, and the next thing Illiath knew, her arms were pinned behind her back.  The succubus shapeshifted, taking on Lady Finch's face once more.

"I command you to release us, back away and then destroy yourselves," the succubus barked.

"Self-destruction requires a priority override code," the two mares replied, but released their captives and moved away a couple of steps as ordered.

"Accept priority override Alpha," James added helpfully, but it didn't work.  Illiath-Finch smiled, an evil light entering her eyes and making the professor quail.

"Ursula, Vera... I order you to destroy each other," she commanded, and the two horses quivered, collapsing to the ground with their central processors skewered by each other's retractile blades.

"They really are fast," Illiath said, looking impressed.  "Alright, that's enough fun for now.  Let's get out of here before laughing boy wakes up."  So saying, she scooped up the plundered broadsword with a wing-tentacle and dragged James along with her as he stared, open-mouthed at the two destroyed robots.

Illiath is very impressive.

Also to have dual lineage with Taun and Daryil is an interesting fact.

Though the possibility that someone has uncovered the Red Queen's hiding place is a terrifying prospect to think about. I suppose you could use a Tri-Wing for many things, including another cubi using the soul for an ascension. But their also something that seems to take either Fae or a dragon to beat. Maybe another Tri-wing would be able to beat one too. If someone has found the Red Queen, let's hope they're close to a hospital.

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 30, 2012, 04:09:31 PM
This chapter should answer a few of llearch's questions from before.

Erm... Looking back (4 pages or so, to August 20) I can only see two questions, and one of those wasn't really a question, it was more on the order of a thought experiment.

The question was "what does Daryil want with ten million nylon washers?"


The thought experiment was about authentication - even the correct authentication code, as shown here, is open to security issues, as you have to _say_ it to them - and that means anyone else around can hear it, so you have an open door policy there to start with. I presume that was what you were talking about - and the loopholes in the design.

I should point out, I'm not _complaining_ about any such loopholes. I'm just saying, the guys building the furrae-form machines (I can't call them androids, because that's already been taken by the soul-gem machines that various of your characters are using; I'm trying to be clear between the two, when I'm comparing them; and "anthropomorphic" is loaded, in this particular community, with all sorts of other meanings...) have a serious problem on their hands, and I'm pretty sure they haven't managed to resolve the issues. At best, they've compromised various parts, and that's going to turn around and bite them.

And I'm going to be amused to see how - for example, the flaw here when you have two of them. Or three - takes more setup, but the same basic flaw is present. "When I say to go, I want machine 1 to destroy machine 2, machine 2 to destroy machine 3, and machine 3 to destroy machine 1. Go." Splat.



On a totally different subject, would you object to me collating the various chapters of this story into an epub or a pdf or something? I'm thinking something I can drop into my ereader, but I figure others might be interested in it as well, hence asking.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on December 01, 2012, 06:34:04 AM
Erm... Looking back (4 pages or so, to August 20) I can only see two questions, and one of those wasn't really a question, it was more on the order of a thought experiment.

Yes, I was too tired to look up the precise wording.  And yes, it was the fun with the authentication business.  At the time it was discussed I had already written these chapters...

QuoteAnd I'm going to be amused to see how - for example, the flaw here when you have two of them. Or three - takes more setup, but the same basic flaw is present. "When I say to go, I want machine 1 to destroy machine 2, machine 2 to destroy machine 3, and machine 3 to destroy machine 1. Go." Splat.

Well, next chapter they have a bit of a problem because they encounter a lone unit.

QuoteOn a totally different subject, would you object to me collating the various chapters of this story into an epub or a pdf or something? I'm thinking something I can drop into my ereader, but I figure others might be interested in it as well, hence asking.

That would be cool, it's something I'm trying to do myself.  I had a version which I took with me to AC - I was able to annotate it on the Kindle.

I have a shell script which converts the raw chapters into HTML, but converting that into PDF is a bit more awkward.  I ended up using LibreOffice, haven't yet worked out a way to do that automatically.

If you want I can make available the collated text/htm versions, though note that they may change slightly in future (this morning I had to fix a problem with one of the android-mare names, fortunately those chapters are still unpublished) and also note that the current 'collection' runs to up to ch.42 (41 and 42 have not yet been proof-read and will likely change).

Chapter 34

"It's possible that someone or something has caused Jyraneth to wake, or whatever has happened," Daryil said, glancing back at Keaton.
"But to investigate... well, I'll need to know where the Hidden Valley actually is," the fox concluded.  "Would you be kind enough to clue me in on that?"

"I'll want something in return," Keaton said, pleased with the fact that she held some kind of bargaining power over the Tri-wing.

"Your sister?"  Daryil said.  "Getting into SAIA... that won't be easy.  Fa'Lina may not be running it anymore, but it's still warded against me.  I could probably break the wards, but it would be very, very rude."

Keaton faltered.  "I... I didn't mean that.  But you... you have contacts with the Kamei'Sin.  If anyone can find out, it must be you..."

Daryil put his head in his hands.  "Oh no.  Oh no no no.  Keaton, please don't go there.  Don't ask me about Noah.  You don't want to know what happened to your brother."

"But I have to know!" she snapped.  "He's my brother... he's of my clan!  The Kamei'Sin tortured him to learn where the Hidden Valley was themselves!  Don't you understand how important this is to me!?"

Daryil winced.  "I understand more than you do, Keaton, and I don't mean that in a nasty way.  You're still upset about Nick," he reminded her.  "And how disappointed you were that he doesn't act like a Jyraneth member of your youth should.  What you're asking for now... that will be much worse.  Trust me, you'll be happier not knowing."

"You can't know that!" the succubus retorted.

"Please... remember Nick.  Remember what I was saying yesterday.  The clan you knew is dead and gone.  You've lived an evil life, Keaton, but no-one deserves to lose their family the way you did.  In some ways I think of you as an adopted clan member."

"You're fucking kidding," Keaton said, wrinkling her muzzle in disgust.   

"Yeah, I know, it's irrational," Daryil said, his ears blushing where the fur was thinnest.  "I feel a bit stupid saying that at all.  But it's true, and I'm trying to explain why I've taken an interest in your wellbeing, and why I'm doing what I hope is best for you in the long run, even if it doesn't seem like it now."

"Hypothetically," the Tri-wing continued, "And purely as an intellectual exercise, let's imagine your brother is alive and well, but the reason you've never heard from him is because he despises you and never wants to see you ever again..."  Keaton opened her mouth to say something and Daryil gestured for silence.  Her mouth closed again and she just stared back at him, concentrated essence of pissed-off jackal.

"Look, I said this was hypothetical," Daryil reminded her quickly.  "But if it was true, would you be happier knowing about it, or would it be kinder to let you carry on believing he was dead?   If he was alive but changed that much... doesn't that mean that the old Noah you knew from your childhood is dead anyway, in a sense...?"

"But I have to know!" the jackal whined desperately.  "I just need to know... did he suffer?  Did his soul make it through to the afterworlds?  That's a simple enough question, isn't it!?"

"No, it's not," Daryil.  "If it was I'd have told you as gently as I could.  This... might be worse.  The Kamei'Sin may not have wanted to tell me how to get to the Valley, but they were pretty forthcoming about the rest of your history.
"You see, when he was captured, Noah was beaten and tortured cruelly.  Once they had roughed him up enough, he was promised a swift and painless death if he cooperated, or that his soul would be destroyed if he refused.  I think you know most of that, of course.  But the thing is, once he'd told them the secret of entering Harla'Keth's hidden valley, the Kamei'Sin decided not keep their promise."

"They... they did destroy him after all!?"  Keaton's eyes widened, and tears began to well in them.  "Oh gods... oh no..."

"No no," Daryil said quickly.  "They were so pleased that they changed their minds and let him live.  And after they had crushed the Jyraneth, they needed a way to keep him on a leash, and they found one.  But you won't like it, trust me on this.  He's alive and well, Katherine.  But he's changed.  I've already told you more than I should have done."

"You're just trying to stop me looking for him," the jackal snarled.

"Yes," Daryil said simply.

"I knew it!"  Keaton sneered triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips.  "So how much of what you've said is actually true...?"

"All of it.  Don't you understand?"  Daryil was starting to look frustrated, desperate even.  "I want to stop you looking for Noah because you're not ready for it yet.  If you went rampaging after him right now, you would royally fuck things up in ways you can barely imagine.
"You could very easily end up getting him killed, getting killed by him or making yourselves lifelong enemies.  Do you want that to happen...?  I am trying to prevent it, and you are not helping."  Daryil's voice hardened and he stared directly at Keaton with an intensity she'd never seen before.  She quailed slightly, suddenly remembering what Daryil was and how dangerous he could be if angered.

"Listen to me, Katherine.  If you truly love your brother, if you really want to see him again, you must first lay aside your vendetta with the Kamei'Sin.  I don't expect you to love them, but understand that Noah has been living with them for a long, long time.  You will need their co-operation to find him."

"But they..."

"Are you familiar with... Sergenholt Syndrome?" Daryil asked.  "Where someone kidnapped by ne'er-do-wells and held against their will can eventually bond with them, become part of their group and sympathise with their views...?"

Keaton just stared at him, aghast.

"I'm sorry, Katherine.  I was trying to break this to you gently, I swear."

The yellow jackal barely noticed as Daryil gently sat her down in a cushioned chair.  He just sat with her for a few minutes, and when he was sure she'd be okay, left her alone to come to terms with it as best she could.


Sydney looked at Sheila with surprise, his wings fanning out very slightly for a moment.  "Um," he said, looking at the succubus nervously.  "I didn't think you went in for... well, guys."

"As a rule, no," the border sighed, taking off her business suit and revealing the seductress outfit that she usually sported beneath it.  "But sometimes... Sometimes losing something or someone makes you realise that you didn't appreciate them before, right...?"

"What about Nick?" Syd said, alarmed.

"Oh, he's not my type," Sheila replied.

"That's not what I mean!  He'll be back any minute... do you really want him to see this?"

"We're 'Cubi students," Sheila said, with a nervous smile.  "This sort of thing happens with us all the time!  He'll get over it."

"Okay, Sheila," Sydney began, and then stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to figure out what to say and how to put it.

"Okay," he began again, "Don't get me wrong on this.  I mean... I like you, I like you a lot... and yeah, I got jealous when you went off with other people, but...
"Well, I'm not quite sure I want our relationship to go in this direction.  I mean, it's too soon... and anyway... you might not be thinking clearly, right?"

There was a burst of surprise from behind them, making Syd jump.  Syd turned, to see Nick looking embarrassed.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said.  "I can come back in fifteen minutes or so if you want..."

"No," Sheila said, "You stay, we'd better finish the tour.  And Sydney... I'm proud of you.  Most guys would be all over me, but you stood your ground.  And yet you were trying to be nice about it."

"So, uh, shall we show him the dormitories?"  Nick asked, awkwardly.

"Yeah, we'd better do that," the succubus said, putting her jacket back on.  "But Sydney," she added quietly, turning to the fox, "If you do change you mind, don't be afraid to let me know..."


"Aw shit," Illiath muttered, as another mare headed towards them with a smoothness and grace that betrayed her artificial nature.  Fortunately Illiath was disguised as Lady Finch, or things would likely have turned ugly.  Instead, the robot came smoothly to a halt before her, with one hand outstretched.

"I am ordered to arrest the intruder, my Lady," the android said.

"Professor James is now in my care," Illiath said haughtily, perfectly mimicking Lady Finch's voice and mannerisms.  "There is no need to carry out your mission now."

"Then I must accompany him," the android said.

"What is your name?"  Illiath demanded.

"Wendy," the mare replied.

"Wendy, I order you to destroy yourself."

"Self-destruction requires a priority override code," the mare said.

"Then I order you to tell me a valid priority override code," Illiath-Finch said.

"I do not know.  I can only validate given codes."

"Damn," James said.  "They thought of that one.  Can't we just tell it to sit in a corner or something?"

"Wendy, I order you to render yourself harmless," the succubus instructed.

"I do not understand," the mare replied.

"Destroy your internal weapons.  Make yourself safe."

"Self-destruction requires a priority override code," the mare insisted.

"I only need you to destroy part of yourself," Illiath wheedled.

"Self-destruction requires a priority override code," the mare replied yet again.

"Come on, we're wasting time!"  James whispered.

"No, we can't risk it telling them where we went," Illiath said.  "Wendy!  I command you to stand exactly where you are.  Stand completely still and do not move until you are told otherwise.  This order takes priority."

"We'll have to do this the other way," she muttered, taking out her broadsword and reverting to base form.  Bracing herself, she swung the blade around in an arc above her head, building up the momentum and suddenly bringing the last foot of the sword home against the mare's neck.  The body jerked once as her head came off, sailing through the air and bouncing off the wall.  The corpse tumbled upon the ground and lay there, the tail quivering slightly.

Professor James was staring at the robot on the floor, his eyes wide and his face utterly still like a deer caught in headlights.  His mouth was open slightly and he didn't seem to be moving at all.  Oh shit, Illiath thought.  Looks like that struck a nerve with him.

Illiath looked at him pityingly, her face uncharacteristically concerned.  "It was just a robot," she said gently.  "Not really alive, it had no mind or soul... it's just a hollow object."

"You... you've done that to people," Professor James said, pushing her hand away as it was offered.

"I won't deny it," Illiath quietly.  "And I know... it's not nice.  And I know too, that it's one thing to talk about it and another to see it happening, even to an automaton.  But I promise, I didn't do that to anyone who didn't have it coming."

"Please, James," she entreated, "We can talk about this later.  We have to get out of here!"

Do the androids have anti-paradox machines? all I would have said "Attempt self destruct and if it requires a code then repeat attempt self destruct until it no longer requires a code" and then say "the previous command has priority over all others"

Quote from: Ignuus66 on December 07, 2012, 07:45:59 PM
Do the androids have anti-paradox machines? all I would have said "Attempt self destruct and if it requires a code then repeat attempt self destruct until it no longer requires a code" and then say "the previous command has priority over all others"

I think they probably have some failsafe against that.  Illiath told Wendy that her order took priority, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it did.  For instance, it probably took priority over previous orders, but newer orders could take priority over it.

See, if it was me? The central processor would be in the chest. Easier to protect it there.

Which means that beheading a robot merely pisses it off. "Identified: you are an intruder. Alerting the base." or equivalent.



I'll admit that's harder to write around, though. ;-]

Chapter 35

Once he was satisfied that Keaton was reasonably okay, Daryil went back to his sanctum and sent a note to Nigel, asking him to check on her and make sure the jackal didn't run amok in her grief.  He was about to discorporate his avatar when the private link rang.

"Callahan?" he asked.  The jackal looked kind of flustered.

"Got to make this quick, Milord.  There was some kind of commotion.  Apparently they kidnapped someone and it went wrong.  The captive kicked the shit out of Professor Fa'Rana and then went on a rampage.  The Prof is still comatose, but last I heard Finch was stirring."

"Who was the kidnap victim?"  Daryil said, his expression wide-eyed, and nervous.  "If it's one of mine, I'll... damn!  I was hoping we might be able to broker some kind of peace agreement with the Fa'Rana clan, but this would really throw that pie out the window."

"I didn't catch the name," the jackal said.  "But I think... well, The Professor had a chunk cut out of his forehead from what I saw.  It was all bandaged up, but you could see the shape of the cut in the bandage where it was bleeding.  It looked a hell of a lot like Taun's clan mark."

"Illiath," Daryil muttered.  "Gods... The Professor must be even more spaced out than I thought if he's trying to piss Taun off."

"They seemed to think she was your daughter.  I think they thought she knew where you're keeping Rich-  Oh shit, I'd better go," Callahan said.

"Wait!  My offer to relieve you is still open."

"I can't!" the jackal said desperately.  "If I leave now, they'll suspect me for sure!"

"I'm sure I can sort something out," Daryil said.  "But if you have to go, go.  Just... take care, okay?  I need you, and your son does too."

Daryil watched the screen go blank as Callahan nodded and cut the link.  Almost immediately another call came in, this time an internal one.

"Daryil?" the Alsatian hound queried.  "Were you on a call?  I was trying to get through... this is kind of urgent."

"So was mine," Daryil countered.  "But what's yours about?  Oh gods... it's not Keaton, is it?"

"No, she's fine.  But I had to delegate that to someone else," Nigel informed him.  "See, Joshua's arrived.  With an old friend of his.  You'd best come soon, we need to decide what to do with her."


The first thing Haley saw when she came around was Daryil, Niall, Nigel and Joshua arguing over her fate.  She tried to speak, tried to move, but they'd drugged her or cursed her somehow, and she could only watch helplessly from the couch in which she lay.

"Look, she's coming around," Josh said, and went over to check her.

"I'm sorry about the restraints," he said, "And about having to bring you here.  But really, you should be grateful... Marlbury would have had your head off by now if you were caught there."

"I don't usually say this," Daryil said slowly, "But in her case... Well, maybe she should meet her fate in Marlbury.  I'm sorry, Josh, that you brought her all the way here only to have to take her back again..."

Niall started at Daryil, appalled.  "You can't do that!" he wailed, "I've spent nearly two centuries of my life trying to save 'Cubi from execution!  Just because she's a Fa'Rana... What's she done to deserve being guillotined?!"

"How about mass-murder?" Daryil suggested.  "I mean look, Niall... she murdered Josh's childhood crush and took her place.  Okay, fair's fair... 'Cubi often do things in the heat of the moment which they then regret and not all of us know how to cope properly in the aftermath.  Something like this might have been a crime of passion that she handled badly in the panic afterwards...
"But Haley didn't stop there.  She went on to help perpetrate the deaths of everyone in the police headquarters in Marlbury, hung around outside to check the massacre was going to plan, Josh says that she mentioned murdering other people and taking their place.  And she was fully intending to eat someone's soul in order to provide Josh with a new body," Daryil said testily.  "And then, after all these things she tried to murder him when he confronted her about the massacre.  And all of that... well, those are only the ones we know about."

Niall looked like he was about to throw up.  "I... abstain," he choked and left the room.

Nigel stood in the background, leaning against the wall and watching the proceedings darkly.  "She's cruel and dangerous.  I think she should stand trial," he said, lip curling slightly.

"I don't know," Josh said desperately, as Daryil turned all his attention to him.  "She was my girlfriend, for a while she really did love me.  That's all past now, but I don't know that I want to see her die, especially not like that... and besides it was almost certainly Professor Fa'Rana and Lady Finch who actually organised the massacre..."

"Fine," Daryil said, and turned to glance down at Haley, his expression not exactly bursting with warmth.  "It's your lucky day," he told her.  "You're going to stay here for now.  If you keep your muzzle clean, I'll make sure you get a fair trial in Fairwater and maybe some kind of plea bargain if you're really good.
"But let's get one thing crystal clear - if you step out of line in any way, I'll ship you straight to the Marlbury Department of Justice with enchanted restraints around your arms and a pretty blue ribbon around your waist.  Oh, and Haley...?  If that happens, you won't be needing a return ticket.  Understand?"

The malamute nodded feebly, still too weak to speak or move.

"Good.  We've prepared a couple of secure rooms for... unruly guests.  It's not fancy, but I'm sure you'll find it comfortable.  Security!" he barked suddenly, and a couple of black panthers appeared a few moments later, their feral bodies polished and shining, eyes glowing red, fangs and claws sharp as razors.

"Yes, Lord Daryil?" one of them asked politely, forelegs stencilled with the designation E-ZRA.  Haley stared at them, amazed.  Warrior robots! she thought.

"Yes," Daryil said to her, gesturing at the panther to wait a moment.  "They guard the base.  A highly controlled technology, and infinitely smarter than your master's creations, if Josh's report is anything to go by.  Please don't upset them or we'd have to ship you to Marlbury in a couple of buckets."  Daryil looked at her critically for a moment.  "Well, four buckets.  Maybe we could fit you into three, depends how finely-chopped.  What do you think?" he added, turning back to one of the robots.

"Um," EZRA said.  "Four buckets to be safe, I'd say."

"You're right," Daryil murmured.  "Having some left over would be... unpleasant.
"Anyway!  This young lady is Haley Fa'Rana," he continued, gesturing at the canine succubus.  "She's evil and dangerous, so guard her well.  I'd much prefer to keep her alive as a bargaining chip, but if she tries to escape or turns violent, you have my permission to kill her." he paused, glancing at Haley to make sure she'd heard.  She had.

"And if she does anything suspicious, inform Nigel or myself at once.  In case of immediate danger, you may use lethal force if necessary."

"Will do," EZRA said, and tilted his head slightly.  "Uh, about that... you were kidding about the buckets, right?  I mean, it makes disposal easier 'cause she'd fit down the sink, but still... You don't really want her all blended up into paste, do you?"

"Well, I'd much prefer to keep her alive," Daryil said, headwings drooping slightly.  "But if she does have to die, I want the remains to be identifiable, okay?  We'd have to release her corpse to the Marlbury authorities, so try to keep it intact if you can."

"Yes, Dar," the panther said.  Nigel's headwings fanned out and he glanced sharply between EZRA and his Clan Leader with a puzzled expression.

"'Daryil,'" the fox corrected, "We'll get some very odd rumours going around if you keep calling me that."

"Sorry, Lord Daryil," the robot said, a note of embarrassment entering his voice and posture.

"Do you want regular reports, Milord?" the other panther asked.

"Not for me, but Nigel might," Daryil said, gesturing to the Alsatian hound.  "Work something out with him."

So saying, he touched the succubus' head gently, a spell seeping through her and replenishing some of her strength.

"You'll still be weak for a bit," he said.  "Should be fine in half an hour, though.  And Haley...?"

"Yes...?" she croaked.

"You're grounded.  No internet for a week."


Professor James stumbled along as if in a trance, Illiath in front, leading him along.  They had encountered two more horse androids since, and they had both met the same fate as Wendy.  The severed head of 'Yvonne' was now tied to Illiath's belt by the hair.  She glanced down at it guiltily.  Dammit, the Doberman thought, that can't be helping Idris get over the whole decapitation thing.  But uncle is going to need to see this.

"James," she called softly.  "Wait here."

So saying, she morphed one of her wings, tried to pick the lock, but failed.  Sod it, the Doberman thought, and cut through the door with her wing-tentacles.

"Okay, James," she told the feline, as if addressing a frightened child.  "That seems to be the exit.  Come along now..."

Inside was an elevator, and a few moments later, they found themselves in the cellar of what appeared to be a dusty council house.  Thinking quickly, the succubus picked up a stool left lying nearby and jammed the lift door open to prevent it going back down, and then checked her phone, bringing up a map of the area.

Grunmore...  She thought.  Where the hell's that?!  Oh, wait... Uncle has some kind of presence here.  What was it...?   A coffee shop?

Glancing sharply around, she turned to face the wildcat.  "James...?  How are you feeling...?"

"You didn't just behead her," the incubus said, his expression blazing with fury and venom.  "You took the head with you as a fucking prize!  Just like my family!"

"Oh gods," Illiath moaned.  "James, can we deal with this later?"

"Oh that's right... brush it under the carpet, you..."

"It's not like that, dammit!  These things are dangerous!  We need to get one of the heads to someone who can study it and find out more about them!"

"I don't care about the robot, it's how you treat people that I have issues with!  You'd be perfectly happy to drag one of your victim's heads around too, just like that!  You said so yourself!  Look how easily you did it!  You've done this before!  How does that make you any different to the bastards who murdered my parents in front of me!?"

"I'm a Taun!" Illiath snarled.  "We're the guardians of the 'Cubi race, not murderers!  We have a code of conduct and mine is stricter than most, coming from a Daryil parent!  I've done regrettable things, but wanton murder is not among them!"

"You mean you don't regret-"  Professor James said, and was silenced by a blow from the headmistress as she slapped his muzzle.

"Idris," she said fiercely, staring back at the wildcat with a fiendish intensity.  "Things have improved massively in the last two centuries, but we still live in a cruel, violent world.  These kind of things still happen.  But understand this - I am not a Demon.  If I have to kill someone, there's always a bloody good reason for it.
"You are entitled to your opinions," she said coldly, "And I will overlook this little spat with regard to your teaching position.  But I will NOT let you endanger both our lives while we're stuck in fucking enemy territory!  Do you understand?  You had better get your act together right now and concentrate on escaping or I will leave you behind.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, headmistress," the wildcat spat, staring back at her with ill-concealed loathing.

"Good.  We can argue morality afterwards, if we survive.  There's a... coffee shop or something down the road.  It's called Arnold's.  We'll try to-"

"Hands up!" someone yelled, jumping around the corner and covering them both with a small handgun.

"I hope you're bloody satisfied," Illiath snarled, raising her hands.  Professor James began to sob quietly.

Seems like some of the Panthers might be getting a little more chummy then others with Daryil.

Well when you give them the ability to think personalities of all kinds are bound to appear.

I wonder how all of the A.I.'s there will react if Illiath manages to bring a head back?

Quote from: joshofspam on December 15, 2012, 08:47:59 PM
Seems like some of the Panthers might be getting a little more chummy then others with Daryil.
Well when you give them the ability to think personalities of all kinds are bound to appear.

Fortunately not in the way Nigel was thinking.  That would be... bad.

Posting early since tomorrow will be disrupted.

Chapter 36

"So, Richard," Daryil said, "To sum up, I don't want to push you into properly joining my clan, that's a decision for you and you alone.  You and your father are welcome to join us if you wish.  I draw the line at your mother, however - unless she choses to defect for some reason.
"If you fear that she or Professor Fa'Rana may think of you as a traitor, you are of course welcome to stay under my protection indefinitely, so long as you obey my Tenets while you are here.
   "If you would prefer to return to your parents, that's more difficult, but well, I'm sure I can find a way to parley with them, and I can return you at that point.  I don't expect you to come to a decision immediately, either."

Daryil paused for a moment and glanced at the young jackal.  "Do you have any questions?" he finished.

"No, sir," Richard said politely.

"Very well.  Feel free to ask me about it if you do," he said, and stared at the doors for a few moments.  Then Daryil waved his hand and the doors opened of their own accord, just as Sydney, Nick and Sheila appeared around the corner, jumping slightly at the sudden movement.

"Excellent timing, if I do say so myself," Daryil said.

"You paged for us, Lord Daryil...?" Sheila asked, with a faint bow.

"Yeah," the fox said, "Richard and I are done for now.  Could you show him to his room?"


"So, Richard," Sheila said, as they led the white jackal on a similar tour to the one Sydney had just been given, "What did you think of Daryil?"

"I'm not sure," Richard admitted.  "He seems nice enough, and so far he ain't been anything like the stories I was told by my clan, but, well.... I dunno how much of it is an act.
"And my own clan... what'll they do when they find I've been hanging out with him!?"  Richard looked scared again.

"They sent you to a school that's half run by him, what can they expect?" Sheila shrugged.  "Besides, Daryil will be able to make it look like you were held against your will or something."

"Yeah," Sydney said.  "I'm sure he can cover for you if you need it, or 'take you hostage'..." his headwings drooped slightly, and Sheila glanced at him.

"Something the matter?" the Border asked.

"Not really... well..." the fox sighed.  "You've had a one-to-one with Daryil, and now Richard has too... it feels like I'm the only person he hasn't taken an interest in."

"That's not true!" Sheila said, headwings fluffing slightly.  "Half of the first talk we had was all about you!"

"You're kidding!" Sydney said, his own wings fanning out.

"No.  Daryil knows your family well.  He takes a keen interest in the Jyraneth clan, though I have no idea why.  I'm surprised he hasn't asked to see Nick yet."

"He did," the yellow jackal said shyly.  "But we didn't say much...  I think it was one of his avatars.  I was still a bit scared, maybe he was going easy on me..."

"What... well, what's he like...?" Sydney asked suddenly.  "I mean, what impression did he leave you with?"

"He wasn't what I expected," Richard admitted.  "I don't know... I guess... I was afraid that he'd kill me for betraying him... and my Dad...  But he doesn't even seem to care.  My... my other clan... I've been told tales of how he couldn't take anything seriously, how he'd do anything to amuse himself, no matter who got hurt and how he ate Lady Ti'Nera's soul on a whim..." the jackal looked around hastily.  "Perhaps he's just toying with me..."

"He lost it when Lady Ti'Nera murdered his boyfriend," Sheila said.  "I think that kind of reaction is to be expected if you wound him in that manner.  And yes, before you arrived, Daryil took me aside, he wanted to know about Sydney and about you, Richard.  I was still a bit scared then, I thought he might want to punish you.  But he doesn't.  He thinks of you as a potential ally, as a way to help smooth things out with Fa'Rana and his clan..."

"That would explain a lot," Richard said, but there was still some doubt in his eyes.

"I was scared of him at first," Sheila said.  "And make no mistake, he could be terrible if he was angry.  But for me... he knew I was scared, he tried his best to calm me down.  I think that we're seeing him on his best behaviour because he knows we're not used to him.  But he asked if you were hot... there were a few more things like that.  I think he let his guard down, and that was what he's usually like.  But I don't mind."

"He was very friendly," Nick said.  "He was saying that I couldn't help which clan I was born into, that he'd make sure my parents know I'm safe and that they're protected, he'd and do his best to protect me from my Leader.  He offered to let me join the school and said that he knows some ex-Jyraneth who would be able to help me..."

"That'll be my clan," Sydney pointed out.

"So yeah," Sheila said, "I'm sure he'll want a word with you at some point.  Don't feel left out."

"You make it sound like a bigger deal than it was," Sydney shrugged.  "What did he talk to you about, Richard?"

"Well, we discussed... well, my father and me, and our options for rejoining Daryil Clan if we wanna.  I'm not sure yet," he said, looking around.  "I mean if Dad is committed and Mom is committed, I can't really leave them, right?  But he said I'm welcome to go back to the Fa'Rana clan if I want.
"And the rest of it was about whether I wanna continue studying at Illiath's school."

"And do you?" Sheila asked.

"Yes," Richard said decisively.  "You guys have stuck up for me, despite my... differences.  I want to carry on studying here.  It's just... I'm not sure my mom will."



Illiath stared at their assailant, an ibex.  His hands were shaking and the gun wavered in his grasp.  "Professor Stephens...?" she asked, incredulously.

"Oh shit," the incubus said.  "I-I'm sorry..."

"That's quite alright," Illiath said.  "Now put the gun down, okay...?"

Hesitantly the ibex did so.  "That's better," Illiath said, and punched him under the chin before he could react.  Professor James uttered a very feline hissing sound, his face livid.

"Is that your answer to everything?!" he shrieked.  "What the fuck was that for?!"

"Would you prefer I decapitated them?" Illiath asked quizzically.

"That's not the point!  He was one of your own staff... oh gods... how could you..."

He cut off suddenly, as Illiath rolled the fallen incubus over with a kick.  He had grown a pair of breasts, the feathers on her wings were congealing into a leathery mass and she was rapidly turning into a kangaroo.  "The aura was wrong," Illiath said.

"Oh... oh shit," the wildcat replied.

"Yeah," Illiath agreed.  "Now, can we please get to the coffee shop before her friends come after us?"

"I'm calling you to account afterwards," Professor James said stiffly as he struggled to calm himself, "But I agree.  We have to get out of here."

Illiath quickly rooted around the house and found a carrier bag which she used to conceal the android's severed head.  When she was satisfied, she un-jammed the lift and the pair of them sped out of the house towards the shopping district.


Their wings and headwings were concealed as the Doberman and wildcat approached Arnold's.  Illiath floundered for a moment as she suddenly realised there were two branches of the shop, on opposite sides of the street.  Her phone's map had had one of them marked as 'Cash Fur Cheques'.  Must have changed recently, she thought.

Both branches had a large queue trailing out from them, and for a moment or two the succubus despaired.  Then, with a sigh and an old children's counting game, she picked one of them and pushed her way gently but forcefully through the queue to the door, amid snarls and cries of protest from the crowd.

"We have a queue," one of the staff said pointedly as she marched in and strode up to the counter.

"I need to speak to Daryil," Illiath told him simply.  The Demon just stared at her.  "I beg your pardon...?"

"I'm Illiath Taun," she said.  "I need an audience with the Lord Daryil urgently.  Tell him it's Illiath, he will understand."

The staff debated for a few moments and shortly afterwards a feline incubus appeared from the back office and ushered her through, along with Professor James.  His wings were yellow and charcoal grey, unusual for a Daryil clan member.  His fur was mostly white, but with a number of muddy yellow splotches here and there including a large one across his muzzle. 

"Conrad D'Aryil," the cat said.  "Well, Ms. Taun, this is a bit unconventional.  And to be fair, this is a coffee shop, not a taxi serv..." the incubus' expression suddenly changed.  "Holy shit," he said.  "Illiath... of course!  You're the headmistress of Daryil's school!  You went missing!"

"Now we're getting somewhere," the Doberman said.  "This is Professor Idris James.  We were captured, we're on the run and I need to get to Daryil and find out what happened to the rest of my school.  Rescuing the other professors would be a definite plus too, but I want to get James to safety first."

"Indeed.  But how do I know you are Illiath and not some assassins trying to break into Daryil territory?"

"Nigel's chief of clan security," the succubus said.  "He can vouch for me.  Taun would too, but since she refuses to talk to Daryil at all there's not much point..."

"Well," the incubus said doubtfully, "Couldn't you go to her for sanctuary instead...?"

"And abandon my first-years?  Get real!  Besides, Grandmother... well, she'd look upon it as a weakness.  Look.  I have part of an enemy android here and Daryil will want to study it.  It'll be important to him, but I doubt Granny could give two shits."

"Very well," he sighed.  "I'll send for Nigel.  Happy?"

"Thanks.  Though, uh... while we're here, that porridge did smell good..." Illiath added, holding out a small debit card.


"Well, James," Illiath said in a subdued voice, as she took a bite from a fresh porridge baguette, "While we're waiting for Nigel, I guess... I promised we could discuss my warlike outlook on life... I guess now is as good a time as any, if you want to talk about it."

"Very well," the wildcat said, scowling slightly.  "I believe you used excessive force back there, to the point at which it would likely upset your students if they became aware of it."

"I disagree," the succubus said airily.  "You will note that I used non-lethal means each time I encountered an enemy 'Cubi."

"That's not what I meant," the wildcat snapped.  "The androids... the way you... you didn't just kill them... you executed them.  You were enjoying it!"

"But they weren't sentient," Illiath pointed out reasonably.  "They were just automatons running a relatively complex control program.  Beings see and do far more violent deeds in any modern videogame these days.  So what if I got a little carried away on what is effectively a training dummy?"

"So you were practicing... practicing to execute a real, flesh and blood opponent just like the Beings did to my parents!"  Professor James snarled.  "Right in front of their child!"

Illiath put down the baguette with a pained expression and collected her thoughts.

"I didn't know you lost your parents that way," she began slowly, "And I'm sorry.  I'd have taken more care if I did."  James opened his mouth as if to reply, but the Doberman interrupted. "And see... there was one time... I did kill someone right in front of their kid.  I've always regretted it."

The wildcat choked, and took a step back.  "Why... what made you do it?  I thought you said that you took people alive when you could!"

"I do," Illiath sighed, "But it... it was a hostage situation.  Some crazy guy, fell out with his ex... he had the kid at gunpoint, his own son!  I... I lost it, you know how that sometimes happens with 'Cubi... took his head off with a wing-tentacle.  It probably messed the kid up for life, as if being about to be murdered by his own Dad wasn't enough...  But it did save him.  The guy was going to do it."

James looked appalled, but the anger in his eyes was gone.  As he watched, Illiath buried her face and cried for a few moments.

"It sounds like you did your best," James said, "And I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I was out of order."

"Doesn't matter," Illiath said, looking at him miserably.  "It was a stressful experience.  I can't blame you and it was never anything personal.  I just wanted... I just wanted to make sure we could get home."

"I don't want to jinx things, but it's starting to look like you've done that," the wildcat told her.  "I can't say I agree with all your methods, but I have to admit that it could have been a lot worse.  So... well, thank you, Headmistress."


"My Lord," Nigel began, as he entered Daryil's study.

"Oh, Hi Nigel," Daryil said.  "Is Keaton alright?"

"Yes.  I've found a spare room for her to stay in."

"Well, I'm hoping she'll be earning her keep soon.  We should probably get her a house in Grunmore at some point.  But there's something else, isn't there?"

"Yes, Daryil.  I was wondering, could I have a quiet word with you...?  It's about Hayley."

"Oh dear," Daryil sighed.  "You still think I should have sent her to Marlbury, don't you?"

"With all due respect, yes."

"You really want her dead that badly...?" Daryil asked.  "That's not exactly in the spirit of my Tenets, you know."

"It's not that," Nigel said, "Though I do think she deserves to pay for her deeds, with her life if necessary.  But taking her away, keeping her here...?  The people at Marlbury are beside themselves with grief over the massacre and the relatives of those taken are howling for justice.  Some of them literally so.
"And now... now a vital piece of evidence that could help them find peace just fell into our lap and you're shielding her and ruining their investigation!  Why...?  Do we even have that right?"

"What goes on in Marlbury isn't really our business," Daryil said.  "If any of us here has a stake in the investigation, it's got to be Joshua and he's not exactly working for Marlbury anyway.  But you're right, interfering is probably not in our best interest."

"You mean you will hand her over...?" Nigel asked eagerly.

"Not if she behaves herself, no.  She may be psychopathic in ways that even Keaton would balk at, but I'm not convinced she'll get a fair trial at Marlbury.  No, I'm giving you and Joshua free reign to question her yourselves, so long as she suffers no permanent harm and she stays within the complex.
"If you prefer, we can hand her over to Starfire if we can get a promise she won't face the death penalty or be extradited to somewhere which does carry it.
"Either way, I do want to ensure everything we know or learn about the case gets passed on to the Marlbury police force.  It's only fair."

"Thanks, Dar," Nigel said, looking somewhat mollified.

"Oh, Nigel - I have a task for you," Daryil said suddenly.  "Part of me has just taken a call from Arnold's."

"Oh gods... is everything okay?" the German Shepherd said, his wings fanning out slightly.

"Yes, it was Conrad.  Two people barged into the shop claiming to be Illiath and Idris.  He thinks they're spies and wants you to check them out.  Would you mind?"

"Right away, my Lord," the incubus said and summoned a warp-aci.  Daryil smiled dreamily to himself as Nigel vanished and then he shook his head.  Stop thinking that, Dar, there's work to do.  But damn... why do so many of my clan have such nice butts...?