[Story] The Future History of Jakob Pettersohn (11/Jul/09 - Final Chapter)

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Maybe I'm blasé, but I figured you had a plan in mind ages ago. *shrug*

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 34 - Journeys

Q&B Home Improvement was set within a retail park in the prosperous realm of Fairwater.  Creatures were welcome and it was safe for Jakob to travel in full incubus form.

The security guards eyed him suspiciously and not without fear, but they let him through unchallenged.

"Is it because you're a 'Cubi?" Joshua asked.

"No... the king is an incubus himself.  More likely it's because of him, I suspect," he replied, gesturing to a photo of Daryil stuck upon a board titled 'BANNED'.

"Oh dear gods.  What happened?"

"He decided to refit the kitchens in the base and what he'd chosen cost almost exactly ten thousand gold dollars.  Now, bear in mind that Q&B is a Being-run chain - some bright spark in management got the idea of running a ten percent discount for anyone over sixty-five.
"Daryil was 4200 years old so he said that he was entitled to 64 of them and demanded the discount.  When they refused he threatened to sue, and in the end he walked out with the entire thing for about a tenner."

Mental arithmetic came a lot easier to Joshua now than it had before, which was kind of cool.  Whenever he wanted to know the time or the answer to a simple mathematical calculation, it would just be there, in his mind.  The only drawback was that puzzle books weren't much fun anymore.  He glanced at Jakob and whistled.  "That's a discount of about 99.999 percent, isn't it?" 

"Something like.  Of course, other Creatures found out about it and there was a run on the stores.  They very quickly changed the terms and conditions so that only Beings were eligible, and promptly found themselves being sued for discrimination by Weres, Phoenixes and certain species of Mythos - basically most Creatures with a nominal lifespan of around 90 years.  So all in all, Daryil is somewhat less than welcome around here."

* * *

Ashley pointed dumbfounded at the screen.  "Holy shit," Azrael said.  "Where's Jakob?!"

...have finally arrested the outlaw succubus Salomere of Ja'Fell Clan, who was convicted in absentia of first degree soul-murder.  Salomere's arrest, while robbing a business in Thorsden, was brought about by two passing bounty hunters. Her accomplice, Dorcan, was killed in the battle.

Elsewhere, Neremath's jaw fell open with a look of horror and dismay.  Salomere was very tricky and might be able to escape, but to have their child die so soon after discovering he was really alive...

Wait... a simple firefight shouldn't be enough to- Nem's jaw snapped shut just as quickly when the picture changed to a rather curt "No Comment" from a leather-clad Doberman named 'Richard Scruffs'.

They cut back to the studio.  And we've just heard that Salomere, who was due to be extradited over to Kurnshire to answer for her crimes, has just been remanded in custody in Thorsden.  Apparently she has pleaded amnesty on the grounds that she did not receive a fair trial in Kurnshire.   Thorsden city does not have the death penalty for civilians.  The case has now turned into a political firestorm and, according to our source, looks set to be heard by the Being-Creature Commission in about six weeks time.  In the meantime she is being held in a secure unit.

"Clever," Niall murmured.  "She's managed to wangle her very own form of protective custody.   The question now is, what the hell is Dorcan up to?"



At that moment, Dorcan happened to be tearing down the freeway with Sethir, each of them seated upon a microfusion-powered sports bike.  Not entirely by coincidence, the machines were of the exact same model that Neremath had been lusting after.

Dorcan hadn't ridden for several decades, but after a few minutes practising in a disused car-park, everything came back to him.  Indeed, he began to wonder if Jakob's android body had improved his balance and reaction time when Sethir's voice came over the helmet mike, snapping him out of his reverie.

"So," Sethir said.  "Since I seem to have been roped into this, would you mind explaining what a nice incubus like you is doing running around with a soul-stealing monster like Salomere?"

"She's my mother," Dorcan said.  Seth's bike wobbled slightly as he digested this.

"What about you?" he continued.  "Why are you going around murdering members of your own kind?"

"I hunt monsters," Seth said, with emphasis.  "I was an adventurer before I discovered my true race, and I'm still one now.  Don't get me wrong, I'm no psychopath.  I don't have a silly vendetta or some xenophobic hatred of my own kind.  But no-one - of any race - has the right to kill souls, and I'll do whatever I can to prevent it, or at least terminate anyone who does."

"A noble goal," Dorcan said.  "Though I'm not sure I quite agree with your means of achieving it."

Seth grunted in disbelief.

"I'm truly sorry about your partner, by the way.  We didn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Don't feel too bad.  It was mostly a business arrangement," Seth sighed.  "You saw what he did when he realised I was a 'Cubi, and he'd have figured it out eventually in any case.  I might have had to kill him myself, which would have been a shame."

"You say 'mostly'.  What else did you have between you?"

"Oh, I fed off his emotions.  I do well on justice and excitement, so it was a good match.  My telepathic and empathic abilities saved us both on numerous monster-hunts."

"Talking of monsters," Dorcan asked, "Is that actually your base form?  Are you really an Arctic wolf, or was there actually another Sethir whom you murdered like Scruffs was suggesting?"

"Nah.  I've killed fugitive Beings in my time but pretending to be someone else never really seemed like a good idea.  It's cruel on people who knew the target and too easy to slip up in some way.  I'm me - just pretending to be a Being.  Scruffs and I actually worked together in a larger firm but split to go independent because we made a good team."

"So, what do you plan to do now?"

"Serve you by the looks of things," he said with an air of resignation.  "Now, if I may be so bold, I just have answered a lot of questions.  Would you mind answering some of mine, O Master?"

"Fire away," Dorcan said, glancing at the nav-nap in his helmet's head-up display.  Apparently they were 23 kilometres from the Jayhawk HQ.

"For starters, why didn't you shapeshift into Scruffs?"

"I can't really use magic anymore," Dorcan confessed. 

"Oh?  Why's that?  Some kind of anti-magic disease?"  Seth's eyes narrowed.

"You could call it that, I suppose."

"Is it something I've heard of?  Is it contagious?"

"You may have heard of it," Dorcan agreed.  "It's called 'death'."  Seth's bike wobbled again.

"You... you mean you're an undead incubus?  Sheesh!  That's a new one on me.  Though it would explain why you didn't even flinch when I put a bullet through your leg."

Dorcan smiled sadly to himself.  "The truth is... a little more complicated.  You might say that I am, in a way, one of the first of a new generation of undead with most of the benefits and none of the drawbacks.  But why are you asking?  You should know.  After all, you tapped our line, didn't you?"

"Scruffs was doing the listening.  He did say something about you being augmented, though..."

"Augmented... yes.  Very, very augmented."  Dorcan had never had much opportunity to brag about himself, the project being secret.  Feeding Seth little tidbits of clue to see how long it would take him to get it looked to be a fun way to spend the journey.

"About you," he said.  "You don't seem to be much of a big magic user yourself.  Why's that?"

"Deep down I still think of myself as a Being," he said.  "I don't know about you but I was raised by foster parents and they... let's just say I'm glad that they're dead, and I'm not."

* * *

Keaton was still walking on air.  She sat in the common room with a large bowl of oranges.  Like most 'Cubi she didn't need to eat - in fact she didn't really like oranges anyway - but losing the ability to taste and smell made the experience all the more precious now it had returned.  As she finished one orange, her wing-tentacles were busy peeling another in advance.

In other news, a hunt has been called for the murderer of Commander P. Ashford, district commander of the Starfire Intelligence Agency, the TV continued.  The hunt was called on after his soul was found to be powering a desk lamp in his office.  In a statement, Acting Commander Hanson told us that Ashford had probably died some weeks earlier, and subsequently been impersonated by an incubus or succubus.

Bits of orange went down the wrong way.

The prime suspect is his former secretary, Miss Jane Keaton.  Following her supposed departure, Ashford was reported to be more calm and focussed than anyone had ever seen him before.  Hanson believes she may in fact be the notorious succubus Katherine 'Keaton' Jyraneth, who has prior convictions for a number of killings and soul-stealings.

"Aw f***," Keaton choked.

* * *

"I move that we should consider a new recruitment drive," said the fox, gesturing at the four vacant seats around the boardroom table.  His voice trailed away as someone entered the room.

"Fendrick!  Thank the gods!  We feared you dead," said the ferret as the fishing-cat walked into the room, flanked by his four vulpine guards.  There was a strangely vacant expression on his face.  "Are you all right?"

"No," he said.  The fox gaped.

"I am not really here," Fendrick added.  "Daryil killed me."

The board members stared at their new arrival with a look of dawning horror as Fendrick sat down in one of the board room chairs and then pitched forward as if dead. 

"We work for Clan Daryil now," one of the Weres informed them.  "The boss even made us honorary incubi.  But he isn't pleased with you guys, I'm afraid.  Not pleased at all.  Still, hopefully we should be able to negotiate some form of compromise."

"What 'Compromise'?" the ferret spat.

"More of a surrender, really." the second Were said.

"Surrender?  To that fruitcake?" the fox laughed.

"He was afraid you might say that," said the third Were.  "He has proposed another way to settle it.  Some kind of game."

"'Musical souls', he called it." the fourth Were chipped in.  The ferret gulped.

"It's a very simple game," Daryil said, suddenly appearing where Fendrick had been standing earlier and placing one of Jakob's Akai machines on the table.  He was dressed in an immaculate business suit.
"First, my men shoot one of you.  Then everyone else has their souls ripped out.  All of you run around the table in spirit form until I stop the tape and then everyone has to make for the nearest body.  Then we shoot the next person, the music starts again and so on.  The last one left in a body is the winner!

"So... who wants to play?" he asked enthusiastically.  The six members of the Subtle Paw stared back at him, appalled.

"...Or of course, you can agree on some kind of compromise," said one of the Weres.

* * *

The sound came from out of the blue.  Dorcan glanced back in horror and hit the brakes, bringing the bike to as fast a stop as he could while keeping it under control.  Placing his helmet on the seat, he jumped off and ran back to where Seth lay, thrown from the twisted wreckage of the vehicle.  His neck was clearly broken.

A sense of unreality enveloped the Doberman as he stared and then reached down, gently opening the dying wolf's visor.  There was blood on his muzzle and as for his eyes... the expression in them was pitiful to look at.  Dorcan began to sob.

Seth's lips moved as tried to speak, but nothing came out.  Consciousness was fading rapidly and the Doberman was powerless to save him.  He couldn't even hear the wolf's final words or thoughts as his own mental powers were long gone.  Dorcan wept for a few moments more as he knelt by the fallen incubus until Sethir's eyes finally closed, a life 600 years old ended by a small patch of oil on the road.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

I still think the improvement store could have argued that the offer was one discount per customer; usually there's a "not for use in relation to any other discount" type line in the small print.

At which point it can be argued that the second discount is invalid when used with the first...


Obviously I'm sneakier than the poor Being on counter when Daryil went in, then. ;-]



And I love the Musical Souls game. It warms my evil side. ;-]

[Tapewolf]

I still think the improvement store could have argued that the offer was one discount per customer; usually there's a "not for use in relation to any other discount" type line in the small print.  At which point it can be argued that the second discount is invalid when used with the first...

For all we know he did the Jedi mind-trick...

And I love the Musical Souls game. It warms my evil side. ;-]

Yes.  Really it should be called 'Musical Bodies' but it sounds better that way.

[Sunblink]

Musical Bodies pretty much brought back memories of Musical Holes (lol Jack reader) for me, but I, too, rather liked that even though the whole idea of wanton liberation of souls made me twitch. However, it, too, warmed my evil side.

The whole chapter was really great, and the characterization of Keaton's overjoyed state was spot-on, but I noticed a typo.

"Clever," Niall murmured.  "She's managed to wangle her very own form of protective custody.   The question now is, what the hell is Dorcan up to?"

I'm pretty sure wangle should be wrangle, unless that was intentional. Either way, I really enjoyed this chapter. Ironically, the fact Keaton was eating oranges of all things tickled my funnybone, because in a fanfic someone wrote about Keaton's original form, Keaton was eating oranges. This seems to be a running theme.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Dannysaysnoo]

What music would they play for Musical Souls?

[Tapewolf]

Musical Bodies pretty much brought back memories of Musical Holes (lol Jack reader) for me, but I, too, rather liked that even though the whole idea of wanton liberation of souls made me twitch. However, it, too, warmed my evil side.

Jack is so very not-to-my-taste that I don't touch it with a barge pole.  So, any resemblance is purely coincidental.
In the final analysis, soul-swapping like that is unlikely to work in the first place, but it makes a wonderful threat. 

The whole chapter was really great, and the characterization of Keaton's overjoyed state was spot-on, but I noticed a typo.
I'm pretty sure wangle should be wrangle, unless that was intentional.

In the OED, 'wangle' is defined as:
"sl. 1 v.t. secure (favour or desired result) by scheming or contrivance".
That said, it was a bit of a coin-toss as to which word I used in the end.

Ironically, the fact Keaton was eating oranges of all things tickled my funnybone, because in a fanfic someone wrote about Keaton's original form, Keaton was eating oranges. This seems to be a running theme.

I chose them because if someone is eating oranges in an office, everyone knows about it...

What music would they play for Musical Souls?

In chapter 35 it's described as a jig, probably the same one they used at the Ascension party.  However, I've been thinking of changing it.

[Sunblink]

Jack is so very not-to-my-taste that I don't touch it with a barge pole.  So, any resemblance is purely coincidental.
In the final analysis, soul-swapping like that is unlikely to work in the first place, but it makes a wonderful threat.

No kidding. If someone were to threaten me with soul-swapping like that, I'd do whatever the fuck they wanted. XD

In the OED, 'wangle' is defined as:
"sl. 1 v.t. secure (favour or desired result) by scheming or contrivance".
That said, it was a bit of a coin-toss as to which word I used in the end.

Oh, I gotcha. I should've consulted my thesaurus, there - I had no idea wangle was a real word.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[techmaster-glitch]

Aw, the Seth guy dies just like that?

[Tapewolf]

Oh, I gotcha. I should've consulted my thesaurus, there - I had no idea wangle was a real word.

It may very well be British-specific slang.  I wouldn't know.

Aw, the Seth guy dies just like that?

I'm afraid so.  I'm starting to dislike cliffhanger endings so I wasn't entirely sure whether to keep this as the ending of the chapter or the start of the new one.

What music would they play for Musical Souls?

I believe I have chosen the perfect song now.  But you'll have to wait to find it what it is 

[Gabi]

That was quite an abrupt ending. Poor Seth.

And Daryil has a really perverse imagination. But his logic is flawed (no big surprise there, though). A 10% discount for customers over 65 years old is just that. They never said the discount would increase for customers whose age was above a multiple of 65. It would be still an advantage for races with long lifespans (which could be fixed with special clauses if required), but no one would get more than a 10% discount.

*Reads previous comments.* Ah, llearch beat me to it. I guess being ubiquitous must be quite an advantage.

[Zedd]

Nice and quite intresting

[schizo]

Good old Daryil,always making games and jokes out the most demented things.
That ending seemed to come out of nowhere,but given what has been done before,i would say seth is not really gone.

[Tapewolf]

Good old Daryil,always making games and jokes out the most demented things.
That ending seemed to come out of nowhere,but given what has been done before,i would say seth is not really gone.

Thanks for the comments, people.  Like I say, I have the bulk of chapter 35 already written - the difficult part was working out where to draw the line between the two chapters.
Yes, it felt a bit abrupt, but on the other hand, it would have come abruptly at the start of the next chapter anyway.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

*Reads previous comments.* Ah, llearch beat me to it. I guess being ubiquitous must be quite an advantage.

heh. I'm not ubiquitous, I just hang around a lot. Lack of a life, etc. ;-]

[Ryan_Galen]

Nice work Tape. Loved the chapter, though I am starting to dislike Daryil just a little bit. He was more fun when he was more goofy and less "I'm going to play duck duck goose with your souls". He is going to need a lot of lolipops to make up for this one.

That ending seemed to come out of nowhere,but given what has been done before,i would say seth is not really gone.

Great minds think alike.

[Edit=]
Oh, almost forgot, noticed your delving deeper into the "what it means to be a robot" question. Even Dorcan is starting to notice that he is just able to do some things better. Josh meanwhile has really gotten used to the computer brain aspect of things. Makes me wonder what will happen when he starts to push the bondries of just being good at something, and being really good.

[Tapewolf]

Nice work Tape. Loved the chapter, though I am starting to dislike Daryil just a little bit. He was more fun when he was more goofy and less "I'm going to play duck duck goose with your souls". He is going to need a lot of lolipops to make up for this one.

I had to look that up, but yes.  To be fair, he does have a large bone to pick with these people, and he does like fear.  What would he do if they called his bluff?  I'm not honestly sure, though I very much doubt he'd follow it through.

Well, there was the B&Q thing - the response to which was a little disproportionate to the effort it took to think up    'Musical souls' thing seems to have attracted a bit more attention.  But don't worry, there are a few more goofy things in the pipeline.

Oh, and Daryil has always had a bit of a wild streak - remember the opening scene of chapter 3 

That ending seemed to come out of nowhere,but given what has been done before,i would say seth is not really gone.

Great minds think alike.

Well, it's so bleeding obvious 

Oh, almost forgot, noticed your delving deeper into the "what it means to be a robot" question. Even Dorcan is starting to notice that he is just able to do some things better. Josh meanwhile has really gotten used to the computer brain aspect of things. Makes me wonder what will happen when he starts to push the bondries of just being good at something, and being really good.

Yes, I kind of owe you for that one.  In fact, it would tie in quite well with the next arc I'm developing.  [scribbles notes]

[Tapewolf]

And now, a picture of Dorcan.  This is actually him in Brotherhood of the Machine about 30 years later, but still:


http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k216/tapewolf/dmfa/Dorcan_cameron_small.png

Thanks to Cameron for the line-art.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 35 - Misconceptions

With the new heating element safely in his backpack, Jakob was unable to resist stopping off at Grobnir's House of Food and Stuff, an incubus-owned cafe which had been famous for its pastries for more than a century.
Despite the burgeoning popularity of his snacks, the plump Grobnir had adamantly refused to add a take-away, insisting that the exquisite delicacies would spoil as they cooled.  This was in fact a half-truth - the real reason was that he wanted his patrons to remain on site while they ate so that he could feed upon their satisfaction and pleasure.

As a result, Joshua sat and stirred at the remains of the previous customer's coffee with a somewhat wistful look.  Damn, I miss eating.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jakob said, and closed his eyes.  Joshua froze, knocking the coffee over.  He could taste maple cake.  Not only that, but he could feel himself chew and swallow it.

"That's clever," he said at last, watching Jakob intently.  They had both swallowed at the same time... somehow the incubus was projecting his own experience into his own mind.

"It's not something I do very much," the wolf said at last, "I wasn't sure I could still remember how it was done.  And I guess I should have warned you first.  But-  Hey... Joshua...?  Are you okay?"  Joshua's eyes had glazed into a look of horror, or disbelief.

With a start, Jakob realised that the husky was staring at something behind him.  He glanced around in time to see the headlines on the display screen, bearing the news that Salomere had been arrested by her own son.

* * *

Dorcan's eyes narrowed as he stared down at the dead wolf before him.  There might still be a way.  Reaching down, he picked up the wolf, taking care to ensure that his dead companions's head was as close to his own as possible.  He walked slowly and carefully back and was soon greeted by a familiar sight.


kernel: I/O error: timed out reading /dev/soul


Dorcan sat astride the bike, one arm holding the body in place, the other groping around inside his pockets.  Scruffs' pockets actually, but he had transferred the contents across.  The shape was right and he glanced down, with what little sight remained.  Yes.  This had better work.  It HAS to work...

His gloved hand squeezed the amulet tightly, and as the last of his vision was obliterated, he felt a strange chill creep up his body.  On the lonely desert road, a feral coyote watched from behind a rock as Doberman, wolf and motorcycle faded from sight and were gone.

* * *

"So, where are the others, Sam?" Daryil asked, putting his feet on the desk and gesturing to the two vacant seats.  "Are they on a toilet break or something?"

"They aren't here," the ferret replied nervously.  Daryil shot him a look of disdain.

"Be more specific.  Where is Chandril?"

"Have you ever played Doom?" Sam asked.  "It was a game about a teleportation experiment which opened a gateway to Hell and all kinds of horrible monsters came out.  Chandril took this to heart and began working on such a machine, which she intended to use to enter Heaven without dying."

"And what happened?"  Daryil asked, dumbfounded.  Breaking and entering into the hereafter was something even he hadn't thought of.

"We don't know.  She vanished.  We found some notes about a major breakthrough, but we haven't dared power the thing up.  For all we know she teleported herself into the sun."

"I guess that's her out of the picture," Daryil said.  "What about Mathian?"

"He never saw eye-to-eye with Fendrick.  Many sessions that could otherwise have been productive were wasted to raging arguments between them over who had the best evil plan to defeat... uh, you."

"I'm flattered," Daryil beamed.  "But where is he?"

"He phoned in sick.  But we think that was just an excuse to start his evil plan ahead of schedule."

"So where is he?"

The ferret didn't answer. 

"Come on.  You must have his home address on file."  Sam glanced back at the others.

Daryil flicked a switch on the Akai and the guitar line from Root of All Evil cut through the air.  The others backed away into a corner.

"I don't know!" the ferret squealed.  "He called in from his mobile number!  We checked his home and he wasn't there!  We don't know where he is!"

"And do you know what his evil plan is?"  Daryil asked, stopping the tape.

"Not really.  For all his boasting, he was very secretive.  From what we could piece together, he believed he could rival you in power."

"Indeed?" Daryil asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Let us just say... you were not the only one with Tri-Wing ambitions." the fox interjected.

"But Mathian is an Angel," Daryil said.  "Isn't he?"

* * *

Sethir's eyes snapped open.  He was tucked into a hospital bed.  That's funny, he thought.  Then he froze as the last moments came back to him.  He'd been following that weird Doberman incubus down the freeway.  The world had suddenly been pulled out from under him.  There had been the shriek of twisting metal, a moment of freefall and then a sickening impact.  He had been lying, facing the sky and unable to feel his arms, legs, tail... unable to breathe.   His neck had been broken.

And now he still couldn't breathe.  A feeling of horror enveloped him as the prospect of spending the remaining millenia of his life paralysed from the neck down reared itself.  But he could feel all his limbs.  Phantom nerve signals?

And then the rest of the memory came back.  The incubus sobbing, then everything fading away to be replace with blackness and horror as he realised that his soul was being stolen.  Betrayal...
No, because he was still here.  He was in hospital.  Whatever the Doberman had done it had been an act of mercy, not murder.  Undeath, perhaps...

Sethir sat up and looked around.  His leathers were cleaned and folded into a pile at the foot of his bed.  A little scuffed, but in good condition for all that the crash had... well, killed him.  There was also a small flyer printed on gloss paper, which he briefly perused.

"Anybody there?" he called out.  How can I talk without breathing?

Dorcan appeared.  He was still wearing Scruff's trousers, but was now fully winged, which had meant shedding the shirt and jacket.  Seth suddenly realised that he wasn't wearing a huge amount either, but his attention was caught by another incubus behind Dorcan.  A grey fox.

"How are you feeling, Seth?" the Doberman asked.

"Not bad, for a dead man," he said.  "I take it that whatever has been done to me is what was done to you?"

"Yes," Dorcan replied, with a sad smile.  "It's funny, you know... both of us died from a broken neck.  And 'augmentation' is one way of putting it, but it's kind of stretching the truth.
"What is a man when every part of him has been replaced with metal?" he asked, opening the hatch in his chest.

"An android replica," Sethir said.  "I've read your little quick-start guide."  Dorcan looked put out.

"You must forgive him," Niall said, gesturing at the Doberman.  "He loves doing that."

"Does he have the expansion boards?" Dorcan asked, snapping back to the present.

"Oh yes," Niall said, and a supplemental brochure appeared in his hand.  It was titled Additional notes for 'Cubi.  "Not as good as being a real incubus of course, but better than nothing."

"It would explain a lot for Dorcan," Seth said, "But I still find it difficult to accept that I might be an android.  It feels like I'm alive.  Granted some of my senses are missing and it feels a bit like my fur's been shaved, but still..."  Taking the booklet, he scanned through it and closed his eyes.  A pair of wings appeared on top of his head.

"No backwings?" Dorcan asked.

"No.  In a world of Beings, they can be a real nuisance.  Besides, they don't even work!  Anyway.  Did you manage to do whatever it was that you came here for?"

"Yes," the Doberman replied.  "Azrael is briefing our legal department as we speak.  I have Niall to thank too, though."

"So I take it that you won't be needing me anymore, then?" the wolf asked hopefully.

"Well, to be honest, nothing was said about you being released from your oath in the event of your death," the Doberman pointed out.

"What?"  Seth's headwings fluffed out in mortification.

"...Then there's the fact that you owe us for saving your life..."

"That is true," he sighed.  Gods damn it!  "So, what is thy will... Master?" he sighed.

"Well, the whole thing was to prevent you harming me or my mother or our allies.  Really, that's about all I ask of you.  You seem the decent sort, despite our first meeting...  But we have to be sure.  You could do a fair bit of damage here if you suddenly went on a rampage."

"Of course, if that did happen, our Founder would be most... disappointed with you," Niall said.  Seth shrank back.

"F-founder?  Clan founder?" he whimpered.  There were only about a dozen Tri-Winged 'Cubi in the whole world, but their power was awesome... and their wrath unspeakable.  There's only one way to become a Tri-winged...  Souls.

"Have you ever heard of Johan Cross?"  Dorcan asked.  It was a bit mean, but he still owed the wolf back for hunting them and he was not disappointed by the reaction.  It's a pity I can't taste his feelings anymore, he thought briefly.  Meanwhile, the wolf was trembling slightly.

"Yes," Seth whispered.  "I have heard of him, and his... excesses."  Gods, it gets worse and worse... these maniacs are going to be the end of me.

"Well, he's not our Founder," Niall put in.  Seth made a whistling sound of relief.

"But he does own the facility.  Jayhawk Cybernetics and the android project is his baby, and his skill has made it possible for our leader to ascend."

"Cross was the bagman?"  Seth said, trembling again.

Dorcan and Niall looked at each other, puzzled.

"The one who goes out harvesting souls for the attempt..." Seth hissed.

"Oh for f***'s sake," Ashley said, storming across the room.  "Leave off him!  Cut the guy some slack!"

"But he wanted to kill my mother!" Dorcan protested.  "He wanted to kill me!"

"You're soul-slayers!"  Seth burst out, the confusion and stress of his sudden resurrection finally bubbling to the surface, and with it his deepest fears.  "All of you!  I'm surrounded by soul-murderers!"

"We are not soul-killers," he lynx said calmly, holding the wolf by the arm, and sucking some of the fear from him.  "Jakob is not a soul-slayer.  Our Founder did not sacrifice anyone to become tri-winged.  I met Salomere at Daryil's party, and I don't believe she's a soul-slayer either."
As he spoke, he conjured up a few more pamphlets, about Johan Cross and SoulFood.

"That does make sense," Sethir admitted, as his mood calmed.  "Privately I've been wondering about that.  About Salomere, I mean.  I saw her reaction when Scruffs died.  It seemed... odd... that someone who was a soul-murderer could be so moved by the death of a Being - one who wanted to kill her, no less."
His voice hardened.  "You stitched me up, didn't you?"



See also: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Pj-86Lu8wog  (specifically 2:16)

The next chapter may be late.  Anthrocon and all.  I wasn't able to get it done in advance...

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Mwahahahaha! You done been stitched up, indeed.

Well done with that. And yes, that's a neat track.

[Gabi]

Wow, that was an amazing chapter! I loved the descriptions, and how Seth's emotions changed according to what the others were saying. And it's good to see Ashley being himself again.

If only I could go to Anthrocon... Make sure to go again next year, because then I will be there.

[Slowtini]

Can someone explain to me what "Stitched Up" means?
-never heard that phrase before-

[Tapewolf]

Can someone explain to me what "Stitched Up" means?
-never heard that phrase before-

Remarkably I can't find an actual definition for it, but yes, it's probably British slang and I'm being careless again. Basically he's referring to the fact that they have hoodwinked him.

Specifically, Salomere convinced him that she was going to eat his soul unless he took a vow to serve and protect Dorcan, when in fact she was bluffing.  Whatever else makes Sethir tick, he takes his oaths very, very seriously.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Here and here seem to suggest that it's late 20th century slang - ie, 1980's or later.

They also provide some suggestions for places to look - Brewers Dictionary of Phrase and Fable being one, since they quote some of that entry - and places where it'd been seen - eg, Only Fools and Horses. I'd look in urban dictionary, but that's down at the moment...


As noted: to 'stitch someone up' is to pull the wool over their eyes, or to, as Tapewolf noted, to hoodwink.

Interestingly, both of these come from hunting birds, which have a hood that is pulled over their head when they're supposed to stay put; since they can't see anything, they assume it's night time and go to sleep, effectively...

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Ooo.

Urban Dictionary is back: Stitch Up

[James StarRunner]

Holy! That took forever for me to catch up. XD

I must say this has been an even better read so far than your other story. This one seemed more like one story then a bunch of short stories. I was kinda worried at first that you turned me into a villain when I read about the squirrel bounty hunter a couple chapters back, but looks like it wasn't really me after all.

[Ryan_Galen]

A three winged angel. Seems rather biblical to me. Can't wait to read the results.

Oh, and thank you for the link, llearch.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 36 - Ownership

Daryil jogged through the forest in Being form.  Teleporting to the nearest branch of Jakob's organisation or indeed, back to the Arctic complex itself would have been far quicker, but he was in no hurry and besides, it had been a while since he'd got out like this. 

He stopped to admire the lake.  It was was rather scenic, forming a clearing in the woodland and feeding a short stream that cascaded down the waterfall, splitting the light into a thousand shimmering rainbows.
Off in the distance a young dog-fox was walking by the lakeside, hand in hand with his feline companion.

A moment later three shadowy figures leapt out of the woods and bore them to the ground before taking their belongings at knifepoint.  Another moment later Daryil was behind them.  He emitted a small cough.

"Can I help you?" he asked as one of the bandits spun around.

"Yeh," he replied.  "Empty yer pockets."

Daryil did so, covering the ground with chocolate wrappers, a half-eaten onion, a small MP3 player that had already been obsolete when he bought it 150 years ago and approximately fifty brightly-painted pingpong balls, all tied together in a chain.
From his belt he unclipped a small purse and extracted a single gold dollar.

"I'm sorry," he said.  "I don't have anything smaller, I'm afraid.  Have you got change?"

Furious, the bandit slapped his hand away, spilling the coins upon the ground.  Daryil glowered at him.

"This one's cocky," the bandit said.  "Think we should do something about 'im?"

"Careful," Daryil warned them.  "I'm really an incubus."  The bandits ignored this - 'Cubi were still rare and it seemed they had never encountered one before.

A moment later, Daryil had a pair of black dragon wings extruding from his shoulder blades and from the back of his head.  "Inkybus..." he said in a coarse voice, mimicking one of the bandits.  "Nasty soul-eating demons!  I be one o' them!"

"Kill 'im," said the third bandit.  Daryil disappeared.

Jackson watched in disbelief as the grey fox blurred slightly, committing untold acts of comic-book violence.  The words "POW!" and "SMASH!" glowed in large bold letters that floated in mid-air, their lurid secondary colours reflecting in the waters of the lake.
A few moments later there was only Daryil, crouching over the three bodies and turning them slightly to ensure they wouldn't choke.

"Where's Delphinne?" Jackson whined.  Without turning his head, Daryil spun around and confronted three more bandits.  One of them was obviously a demon.  His companions seemed to be Beings and they advanced on Jackson.

Daryil suddenly seized the fox and threw him bodily over the waterfall.  A moment later he teleported and deftly caught the lad, laying him gently upon the ground by the banks of the pool.

"Delphinne..." Jackson whimpered.

"You don't need her anymore," Daryil purred, stroking the young man's head and caressing his fur.  "I'm here for you... You have but to ask..."

"But she's my fiance!" he wailed.  "We're due to be married!  They'll rape her!  They'll kill her!"

"SHIT!" Daryil spat viciously.  "I suppose I'd better rescue her as well, then."

A few moments later he was back in the clearing by the lake.  One of the bandits had Jackson's snow leopard fiancé against a tree, a knife to her throat.  The other went through her pockets as their leader prodded and inspected the fallen.

Daryil gave a wolf-whistle and the bandits turned.  Somehow the knife was in his hand.  Then between his teeth.  More lurid writing appeared and the pair of them lay fallen at the trunk of the tree.  This is gonna hurt when they wake up, he thought, carving the letter 'D' on their foreheads.

Picking up the snow leopard, Daryil walked again to the edge of the lake, and threw her away into space.

"Excuse me," said a voice behind him.  "You dropped this."

Daryil turned away, finding himself face-to-face with the demon, who was eyeing him with a strange expression and holding Daryil's purse.  Moments later there was a terrific splash.  The incubus paled slightly and vanished.

Once he had fished Delphinne out of the pool and convinced Jackson that he had intended to do that all along, Daryil returned to confront his foe.  When he got there the demon was gazing dispassionately over the scene of carnage.

"You know," he said, "I never really wanted to be a bandit.  I wanted to be a lumberjack.  Or better yet, a paralegal researcher.  But my family never approved of it..."

"It's never too late to change your mind," Daryil told him.

* * *

Back at the base, Sethir was looking up at his so-called master with a rather disgruntled expression.

"I'm sorry about that," Dorcan said.  "Yeah, I guess we did - as you say - stitch you up.  But I didn't know how we could convince you.  If it's any consolation, the gun wasn't loaded."

"I order you to forgive me," he added with a thin smile.  Sethir made a rude gesture.

"I guess I owe you an apology too," Niall said.  "I suppose you might call it a hazing ritual.  The truth is I have a high affinity for fear.  And sometimes, in a way, I sort of miss the bad old days back in Ha'Khun.
"Be that as it may, I have a new occupation now.  Saving the lives of other 'Cubi."

"Like me?" Seth asked.

"Not quite.  Think of me as an anti-death-penalty activist.  Just before I turned seventeen I faced the rope for the crime of having wings appear on my head."

Seventeen? Seth wondered.  It was almost unheard of.

"It turned out that I was next-of-kin to Johan Cross, who was none too pleased at the idea of his heir being hanged.  Since then, I have specialised in rescuing or quashing the convictions of 'Cubi who face unjust execution."

"Like me," Dorcan said.

"Or Salomere, for instance," Niall continued.  "She's got a death warrant for a crime she hasn't even committed.  She seems to have done quite well by her own cunning, though... Azrael and I will take care of the rest.  Which brings us neatly back to you," he said, looking at Seth.

"If you have any further designs on Dorcan's mother, I request you discard them.  I'm sure Daryil and Jakob will compensate you for the bounty, if that is your concern.  But if you, an incubus, try to kill Salomere, I would find myself in a very... awkward position."

"I have sworn to serve Dorcan," Seth said, his headwings drooping.  "For the next five centuries."

"Cheer up," the Doberman told him.  "I mean, really, it's just insurance to me.  Besides, it's only an oath..."  Seth's lip curled slightly.  He took his oaths very, very seriously.

"Ah, you must be Sethir," Jakob said, entering the room courtesy of Kirian.  "From what Azrael said, you're lucky to be alive."

"Am I alive, though?"  Seth asked.  "Are we still Creatures, Dorcan and I?  Are we Beings?  Or are we some new race that the Creature Council will try to hunt down and destroy?"

"Come to that... am I even..." his throat bobbed slightly mimicking the gesture as he swallowed.

"I'm just property now, aren't I?  I... I'm full of machinery.  I'm just a collection of circuits and mechanisms that belong to Johan Cross."

Jakob buried his face in his hands.  Another one...

"Well, you're certainly full of questions, I'll give you that," said Dorcan.  "But I don't agree.  Your body may be an artificial construct, but your mind and your soul are not.  They are still you, and I am still me, even though my corpse lies in a grave somewhere in Mundesberg.  Oh, and he doesn't like being called 'Cross' very much.  It gives people the wrong impression."

"But who owns me?  And what am I, anyway?"

"To be honest, we don't really know what you'd be classified as," Jakob said, taking an interest in the conversation once more.  "But it's something we're going to have to sort out fairly soon.  We're hoping it should go in our favour... Daryil has some very good lawyers."

"He could get it ruled that we are people," Dorcan said.  "On the flipside, he is unpredictable.  The possibility remains that he could spazz out and get it ruled that we are actually property a few years down the line or something.  Mind you, if he ever went bad, legal matters would be the least of our problems."

"Either way, robots and AI are not a new thing," Niall chipped in.  "There were some at least 150 years ago, though probably partly-magical in origin.  If that doesn't work, I understand he intends to argue that you are undead.  Or failing that, Mythos.  All the same, we are planning to unveil this very, very carefully."

"As for who owns your body, that's easy enough to deal with," Jakob said.  "I place no claim upon you myself.  If you seek reassurance, then I hereby grant your body to you as a gift."

"I only hold you to your oath," Dorcan said.  "I make no claim on your body."

"What's this about an oath?" Jakob asked.

"I swore to serve and protect Dorcan.  Under duress, I might add..." he didn't finish the words.  At that moment there was a flash of black light and a grey fox appeared in the middle of the room.  He was dressed only in a pair of loose, tie-dyed trousers and his grey hair was long and unkempt.  He was staring at Sethir.

"Hey there, handsome..." he said at last.

"Who's this nutter?" the wolf asked.

"That's our Founder," Ashley said.  Seth let out a cry of sheer terror.

"Lord Daryil, at your service," he said.

Circular pack hierarchy, Seth thought stupidly.  I obey Dorcan, Daryil obeys me, Dorcan obeys Daryil...

"Here's a moral conundrum for you," Jakob said.  "If you met your biological parents and found that they were soul-stealers, would you kill them?"

Seth closed his eyes and remained silent for a few moments as if in concentration.  When he spoke his voice was almost a whisper.

"I did."

* * *

The raccoon walked by the riverbank, a paid guide for his companion, Father Albina, who bore the hooded robes of his faith, the grey muzzle of a wolf poking out.

"...and who rules Ha'Khun now?" the monk asked, casually.
   
"We have a Council, Holy Father," the raccoon replied.  "Though some still believe that Lord Cross will one day return and lead our people to glory."
   
"Is that so?" the Father asked, a curious expression entering his deep, dark eyes.  Unusually dark for a wolf.
   
"The Crossies?  Well, that kind are a bunch of loonies.  Johan Cross was a maniac and we're better off without him."
   
"There are some who might disagree with that assessment," the wolf muttered to himself.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Moments later there was a terrific splash.

Bwahahahahahahahahahaha*choke*

[Tapewolf]

Bwahahahahahahahahahaha*choke*

You've got to love that attention span.