Telephones

It is a bright and early morning, the sky pale and clear. DC hums busily with traffic and business.

Demiurge says "What time do people plan to get up? :)"

Daimon says "When I'm awakened. :)"

Daimon might get up before Pat and Sarah and make them breakfast.

Pat is cuddled up in bed with a Cherub. It will take outside forces.

Daimon will probably do that, yes. And leave it warm for them, and eat himself.

Daimon says "I've gotten into the habit of eating."

Daimon will make breakfast around 8:30-ish, eat himself, covering the rest, and sit on the couch, watching CNN with the volume turned all the way down.

Sarah plans to twitch resonance just after dawn-Essence, but other than that, is cuddled up in bed with a Pat.

Demiurge says "As Daimon is watching television, his cellphone makes that nice little buzzing noise."

Daimon puts down his breakfast, gets off the couch, pads over to his coat, and retrieves Liz's cellphone.

Sarah pages: Should I roll for said twitch?

Daimon takes it back over to the couch, and sits down. He flips it open to answer it. "Hallo?"

Terry's voice says, "Daimie? That you, baby?"

You paged Sarah with 'Sure. ;)'.

Daimon says "The real thing. Although I may be a clone."

<> Sarah rolls the d666 and gets 4 2 CHECK: 2.

Sarah pages: Hazards which aren't immediate or life-threatening. :)

Demiurge says "Hm. Sarah senses that Daimon is talking to a Balseraph, which may be hazardous to him. :)"

<> Daimon says "More hazardous to Terry, with the mood I'm in. :)"

Sarah sits up sharply and without warning.

On the phone, Terry sighs with relief. "Cool. I'm at the, you know, airport place. Where should I be heading, and any developments?"

Pat is nudged by this, and sits up as well. "Hm?"

Sarah says, "Daimon's in trouble." She gets out of bed, and borrows and shrugs into a bathrobe if one is immediately visible. Whether or not one is so, she starts to head out of the bedroom.

Daimon says, "You know, that begs a question. If I was a clone possessing all the memories of the original, how would I know that I was not in fact Daimon, but only a cheap imitation who may be programmed for specific tasks subconsciously down the line? How would any of us know if we were clones?" He pauses. "Yeah, Terry, my life is Bad and Weird. As to where you should go, why, that's the $5 question, isn't it?"

Pat has a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, ready to be borrowed. He pulls on a pair of pajama bottoms, losing precious moments.

On the phone, Terry says, "I love it when you do the philosophy stuff, Daimie, but not right now, okay? I mean, where do you want me to point the camera? Who should I be talking to? Who should I be making the next Brand Name?"

Sarah is thus spared from walking out into the living room stark naked, which, while it might have gotten Daimon's attention, might have had undesirable side effects as well.

Sarah makes a beeline - or a Cherub-line, not being Hitherby - for the couch, stage-whispering "Who are you /talking/ to, Daimon?"

Daimon says into the phone, "You're asking me this at 9am, man." He pauses, and rubs his temples. "Let me tell you where you should be heading. I was at a Kobalite tether yesterday which had been hit by humans working for the Game. At least three Kobalites are 'no longer with us', and this bothers me. The seneschal ran - I don't know where. That's a good place to start. Of course, I won't be there."

Daimon puts his hand over the phone, and looks up at Sarah. "Terry."

Sarah winces visibly, but nods. Not happily.

Daimon ponders, and has a really wicked idea. He takes his hand away from the mouthpiece.

On the phone, Terry mutters, "Okay. Any idea where the seneschal might have run? Anything at all?"

Daimon says into the phone in a sing-song voice, "Oh Terry.... speaking of Brand Names... I know that a certain Game organization has been laundering money. So what kind of connections to you have to the DC news stations?"

Sarah pushes tangled hair back from her face with both hands. She blinks at Daimon a couple of times; then starts to smile.

Daimon finishes, "And no, I don't know where the Seneschal went. I wish I did."

Daimon pats the couch next to him, a gesture for Sarah to sit down.

On the phone, Terry lets out a long, low whistle. "Oh, *baby*. Lead me to it, Daimie, and remind me to kiss you later."

Pat wanders out of the bedroom, running his hand through his hair and doing absolutely nothing to make it neat.

Sarah does sit, considerably reassured by this.

Pat looks a question at Sarah.

Sarah answers Pat, as quietly as possible while still letting him hear, "His, ah, agent, I believe."

Daimon continues in the same sing-song voice, "Why, Terry, their name is Focals. They have an office building in the city. Of course, it was sort of trashed, but hey. The head guy is Michael Focals - he's Focalor, if you know him, on the off chance. He's been taking IN money from a place called Bellman's - Lustie, maybe, but Italian, and laundering back out to two Japanese 'concerns'. It's how this all started, Terry."

Daimon is getting a very wicked, sick grin.

Pat lifts an eyebrow and aims himself at coffee.

On the phone, Terry's voice takes on a note of wheedle. "And how did you get involved with this, Daimie? Some sort of thing of your Boss? Come on, you know it's safe to tell me."

<> Demiurge rolls the d666 and gets 4 1 CHECK: 3.

<> Demiurge says "Will roll, Daimon. :)"

<> Daimon rolls the d666 and gets 6 6 CHECK: 1.

<> Daimon says "Nope. I fail. What do I believe?"

<> Demiurge says "It's safe to tell dear old Terry how you got involved with this."

<> Demiurge says "Not that he's trustworthy."

<> Demiurge says "But hey, this one little fact won't _hurt_."

Daimon says to Terry, "I was working on a job for the Boss, and they happened to be after some proto-Renegades I was trying to drag in. Not my line of work, Terry. You know that. And it came up and got investigated by some friends of mine. I happened to be there."

Down the phone comes the sound of someone taking rapid notes. "Okay. So that's investments, Yakuza, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Sounds good to me. Hm."

Pat fills a mug of coffee and starts making cocoa.

Daimon nods, and says into the phone. "But it was all being laundered through Focals. Through the Game. So who is talking to who? Bellman's looks to be some sort of weird sleazy media studio."

On the phone, Terry snorts. "It's not anything of ours that I could trace. I checked up on, ah, my Prince's local links down here. Nothing called Bellman's, baby."

Daimon says into the phone. "Where are your Prince's local links? Can you tell me that?"

Pat sits down in a chair, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug.

Terry says, after a moment, "Check out the Old Post Office if you need help thataway. But don't tell any fluffy types, okay? I know how you are with angels. One little batted wing and you go all gooey at the knees, Daimie baby."

Daimon frowns. He doesn't comment on that. "I don't know where to send you, Terry. I can give you the locations of both the Tether and Focals."

On the phone, Terry sighs. "Okay. Can I get hold of you on this number? And can you give me any more info at all? You said you had some good stuff."

Daimon raises his eyebrows. "You can reach me again at this number, sure. And I probably have more information rattling around in my brain. But man, I wanna hear news about the Boss."

Pat has a sudden desire to take notes.

<> Arcangel says "Pat recalls his training! Yay!"

<> Daimon is trying very hard not to spill about the angels.

<> Daimon says ""And Caliah."

Pat reaches out and resonates Daimon.

<> Pat rolls the d666 and gets 1 5 CHECK: 6.

<> Pat stomps!

<> Daimon says "No kidding. What does a 6 get you?"

On the phone, Terry says, "Okay, okay, okay. Look, I've heard he's being kept in Personal Custody down there. And I've heard that the Game has definite evidence that he's been helping Renegades. All over. For other Princes, too. This is bad shit."

<> Pat says "Your current emotional state. Your two strongest emotions and the motivations for those emotions. I'm not checking for possible future reactions, so don't worry about that part."

Daimon swallows hard. "Which other Princes, Terry. Do you know? Is there evidence?"

<> Daimon says "Current emotional state WAS 'Man, I'm gonna get the Game', but now that's dissipating quickly toward a numb horror. Two strongest emotions are a sort of thrill at pointing Media down the Game's throat, and Disgust at Helping Renegades - although he's a little confused on this point."

<> Daimon says "He was momentarily thrilled at playing the Hell game."

On the phone, Terry sighs. "Daimie, I really wish I didn't have to say this, but the news releases say most of them. And I guess there has to be some real evidence. I know there's a load of prisoner-moving round, you know, like witnesses, whatever."

Pat makes mental notes.

On the phone, Terry adds, "I get the feeling there's more stuff, too, but I'm not on a level to hear it, if you know what I mean."

Daimon bites his lip, and gets up off the couch. He paces slowly. "So what can I do for you, man?"

Sarah slips into a decided frown at this point, and cradles cocoa.

On the phone, Terry hums an advertising jingle as he thinks, then says, "Well, baby, you could give me an even bigger scandal, you know? Or if there was some way to prove it was a frame-up. If it is. You know, Daimie, I'm really not happy."

Pat sets his mouth, listening to Daimon's side as carefully as possible.

Daimon says into the phone, "Terry, you know my _opinion_ if it was a frameup, but to be brutally honest, there is no way for me to have gathered evidence. Now I'm trying to move my little green ass, but I've been _busy_ with Life Things. And yes, I did fall apart for a while. The best I can do is say, okay, I'll help you out when I can. But you're in more of a position to do things. I have the big target on my forehead."

Daimon continues to pace.

Daimon says into the phone, "Lest I remind which one of us is the Man who does Lunch."

Terry says, "Well, hey, I'll do lunch for you, okay? You pick the restaurant, I'll show, I'll even cover the bill. Old Terry's instincts are kicking in, baby. There's something behind this, and I'm the guy to find out what it is."

Daimon says, automatically, "Sistine's. It's a bar, it does Italian, and I'm in a constant state of Needing a Drink. And I'm bringing friends, so don't get disturbed."

Sarah relaxes promptly, and drinks cocoa.

On the phone, there is more scribbling. "Okay. What time do you want to show? I'll be there, and I'll get the usual people investigating. Trust me, Daimie. This'll be big-time television. This may even be product spots."

Daimon says, "Hmmmmmmmmmmmm maybe after this I'll try something new for a change. I've been standing on the stage for almost a century. How does noon grab you?"

Daimon stops pacing, stops in the middle of the room, and squints at the ceiling.

Sarah hides a very small smile.

On the phone, Terry says, cheerfully, "Sounds good to me. I'll be there." He pauses. "You are holding together okay, baby? You sound, I don't know, kind of twitched."

Daimon says into the phone, "I'm very twitched. I wasn't doing so good last night, but I think I can pull enough of me together to be marginally coherent."

On the phone, Terry says, "Good to hear it. I worry about you, Daimie. You're too sensitive for your job, that's your problem. Look, I'll be there, and I'll bring along the latest papers from you-know-where. We'll do lunch."

Daimon says into the phone. "Cool. We'll do lunch. I'll see you there at Noon, Terry. God willing."

<> Pat says "All Hellish newspapers must be cleared first. Where's my censorship marker?"

On the phone, there is a pause, then Terry says, "Interesting new tagline you've got there, Daimie. See you later." He rings off.

Sephar perches quietly on the sofa back.

Daimon hangs up the phone, and walks over to put it back into his coat pocket.

<> Demiurge says "Bear in mind, Daimon's probably the only one who'll be able to _read_ it."

Sarah strokes Sephar with the hand not involved with a cocoa mug.

<> Daimon says ""Indeed."

<> Arcangel says "Unless you want Terry to read it to you..."

<> Pat says "Oh yeah."

Daimon stands on that side of the room, looking at his coat for a while.

Sephar leans just a bit into the strokes.

Pat watches Daimon for a moment.

Daimon finally looks up at Pat after a few long minutes of staring at his cellphone, and in general, out into nowhere. "We have a lunch date."

Sarah murmurs, "With your agent. Sistine's."

Daimon says "Yes."

Daimon stares at Pat for a moment, then says, "It's all just Hell lies, actually."

Pat nods. "At noon."

Daimon says "Yes. We have lunch with a Balseraph. I would expect you all to join me. He's bringing news."

Daimon walks back across the room, and sits back in his spot on the couch.

Pat says "I have to check on something before then."

Sarah leans her head against Daimon's shoulder. "All as in the three of us, or all as in, ah, all of us?"

Sephar hops onto Daimon's shoulder quietly.

Daimon reaches up and smooths Sarah's hair. "That's for you all to figure out. I would think you three, and probably Liz."

Sephar bobs a nod.

Daimon thinks for a moment. "The news is not good."

Pat says "Tell us?"

Sarah nods, slightly. "Princes."

Daimon furrows his brow. "They have some sort of evidence that the Boss was... helping... Renegades. Not just his own, but from all over Hell." He shakes his head. "I've worked for him for 80 years, and I've never seen this. And he sent me up to bring back some Renegades."

Daimon is obviously disbelieving. "It's all lies. I know it's all lies."

Pat says "I would be unsurprised."

Sephar says "Then we get to find out the truth."

Daimon says "So it's bad. I can't... why..."

Sephar ruffles just a bit and then smoothes out quietly.

Daimon frowns.

Pat finishes his coffee and stands.

Sarah straightens, and takes her turn to smooth Daimon's hair.

Sephar cocks its head at Daimon's frown.

Daimon looks at Sarah. "Just Game lies, right?"

Pat says "Probably."

Daimon just shakes his head. "So anyway, Pat, what do you have to take care of?"

Pat says "I need to go make sure Jordan got home safely."

Daimon says "Okay. All of my clothing is over at Liz's place."

Pat says "Do you want to stay here?"

Sarah says quietly, "I can offer rides, as needed."

Daimon looks up at Pat. "If it's appropriate. If not, I'll need to be carted over to Liz's place."

Back in the bedroom, Sarah's own portable phone starts to buzz.

Pat says "You're welcome here, Daimon, as long as you'd like to stay."

Daimon says "Is it safer if I stay here? Or safer if I stay with Liz?"

Daimon doesn't know. He's just a mass of confusion. It's easier just to focus on the big project ahead.

Pat says "I think it's safer here, to be frank."

Sarah lets out a breath. "I'll let you two wrangle that out." She stands, deposits cocoa, and hurries back into the bedroom.

Pat says "Besides. You can smoke here."

Daimon says "Well, then maybe I should just move all my crap here. Not that I have much in the way of crap."

Sarah seeks her phone. It's a good thing she's relatively organized.

Sarah even, indeed, answers her phone.

Pat nods. "Of course."

An educated English voice on the other end says, "Good morning. Is that Miss Schaeffer?"

Sarah answers, "Speaking, yes. May I ask who is calling?"

Daimon frowns. He says to Pat, "This of course would be the objectively correct thing to do."

The voice sings, in an amused angelic tenor, "Chilmad, Cherub of Laurence, Friend of the Lords Troops."

Pat nods. "Quite."

Daimon says "Then I defer to your wiser instincts."

Pat nods. "I don't know how long the meeting will take. I'll meet you at Sistine's?"

Sarah acquires, in the bedroom, an abrupt and distinct smile. "It's good to meet you - even if not in person, sir."

The voice resumes normal English. "I understand that you were looking for a person who once served the Prince of Dark Humor, Miss Schaeffer. How may I assist you?"

Daimon nods, and smiles just a little bit. "I doubt I'll be allowed on my own without the watchful eyes of Sephar and Sarah any time in the future."

Daimon reaches up and smooths Sephar's feathers.

Pat smiles. "I can think of far worse companions."

Sephar leans just a bit into Daimon's hand, and coos, "So long as you want me with you, I will go with."

Daimon smooths Sephar's feathers. "I want you with me, Sephar. But not in the shower. That's where I draw the line." He looks up at Pat. "Yes I know. And I have before. I... this is hard enough, so I'm grateful for the companionship."

Sephar chuckle-bobs.

Hitherby drifts past the window in a cloud.

Pat nods, then glances to the window. "Ah. A sturdy mind arrives, I believe."

Sarah glances toward the living room for a moment; lowers her voice a touch. "I have a young gentleman here who has some, ah. Significant misconceptions about our side." Her voice weakens a little at the last few words. "I'd thought it might do him good if he could talk to someone who could reassure him from personal experience."

Daimon grins. "I don't know if 'sturdy' is the word I would use."

Pat chuckles, moving to the window and studying the cloud.

Hitherby does not deviate from her slow course, but another swarm approaches on a similar vector from a ways back.

Daimon says "Multiplicable?"

Pat blinks, and looks away from the window. "Is that a word?"

Daimon says "How about, 'A mind in which can appreciate many many points of view at once.' Nope, it's not a word. I made it up."

Pat says "Ah. Ok."

The person on the other end of the phone clicks his tongue. "Well, I'm very sorry, Miss Schaeffer - or may I call you Chephirah? - but I'm afraid that I can't actually leave my Tether. I don't suppose that you could bring the fellow by to visit?"

Daimon stretches his legs. "Maybe there are no words to describe Hitherby, so we stumble along the best we can."

<> Pat says "To a Tether of the SWORD???"

<> Daimon says "You're on crack. No way."

<> Pat says "Good Lord. No."

<> Demiurge says "You wanted a Redeemed Kobalite, you got a Redeemed Kobalite."

<> Daimon says "I'll be under the bed promptly."

<> Sarah laughs helplessly.

<> Daimon says "Tell him it's not very Funny."

Pat nods, opening the window. "That's an accurate way of putting it."

Daimon grins, mostly at Sephar, thinking that he might actually be starting to get the hang of this.

Sarah considers that for a moment. "I believe I might be able to foresee a number of associated problems. He's doing startlingly well, but, ah, I don't believe he's in appropriate condition."

Hitherswarm #1 rounds the corner and proceeds along that side of the house.

Hitherswarm #2 accelerates slightly and hums to Pat, "Something o'clock and all is well!"

Hitherswarm #2 stops in front of the open window.

Pat nods to HS#2. "Your vigilance and alertness is a credit."

Sephar grins at Daimon.

On the phone, Chilmad considers. "That does present a problem. I can see what you mean. Hm. I believe that there are a few cafes on the edge of the Fort grounds, where the young cadets tend to, ah, hang out. Perhaps we could contrive a meeting?"

Hitherswarm hums, cheerfully, "Good; Trade won't take my checks any more."

Daimon leans back on the couch, still balancing Sephar, and going back to watching TV.

Sarah contemplates that, also. "It's a possibility, sir. Or a telephone conversation, perhaps?"

Hitherswarm #3 rounds the corner from the side of the house the other two were coming from, stops, looks faintly confused, and heads the other way.

Pat chuckles. "Would you like to be inside?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Possibly. I defer to your knowledge of the young man."

Hitherbugs wonder, "Nocturnal activities such as sleep have ceased?"

Pat says "Mm. Such as sleep, yes."

Sarah says "Considering his recent employment, exposing him to cadets might not be the wisest of courses to take."

Daimon perches Sepharbird on the top of his head, so better to watch CNN.

Pat wonders if the bugs are mocking him.

Sephar perches, wings spread a bit as Daimon moves him...

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Very well, Miss Schaeffer. Would you care to have him speak to me now, or would you like me to call back later? Or perhaps the young gentleman would prefer to contact me himself."

Sephar then nests in Daimon's hair.

Hitherbugs hum, "Then the greater warmth would be pleasant." They swirl past Pat and in.

Pat closes the window behind Hitherbugs.

Daimon seems fairly happy with his head being turned into a Sepharnest.

Hitherswarm chimes to Daimon, "You are rested?"

Daimon nods to the Hitherswarm. "Yep. I'm rested."

Sephar rides the nods serenely

Hitherbugs bob, and fall onto the table like sawdust, only not as wooden and with more eyes.

Daimon . o O ( Woah. Serenity. Everyone is very serene. )

Sarah glances toward the living room again. "I'm afraid he seems to be a perch for a Domination at the moment. Or possibly two. If you're free, I'll ask, nonetheless; if not, later perhaps?"

Pat says "If you'll all excuse me, I find myself inappropriately attired for a public excursion."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Certainly." He dictates a phone number. "You may contact me on this, if necessary."

Hitherby chrisks and mutters, "Our plans for the day? I am moving towards Shannen, and patrolling, but I find myself at loose ends."

Daimon says "Hitherby, we're having lunch at Sistine's."

Sarah does not repeat it back, but answers, "Thank you very much," nonetheless. She covers the receiver with a hand then, and leans into the living room. "Daimon? There's a friend of mine you might like to have a chat with. It doesn't need to be now, if you're, ah," she glances at Sephar, "occupied."

Hitherby looks thoughtful. "A fine endeavor. Perhaps somewhat frivolous, but it may reduce stress."

Pat walks past Sarah into the bedroom, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he passes her.

Sarah smiles at Pat. She is, to note to the Kyrios, dressed in one of Pat's bathrobes.

Hitherby is generally less active when thoughtful, and more like a microOfanite when not. (For those who wonder how she can look thoughtful at all :)

Pat disappears into the bedroom. The shower is heard.

Daimon says "No, I'm sure I can put Sephar down for a bit."

Hitherby looks up at Sephar with big anime mosquito eyes. (Why, they're almost visible!) "If he will promise not to eat me."

Sephar looks down at the Hitherbugs, thinks a bit and then bobs a nod, "Certainly, Hitherby."

Sephar hop-flutters to the back of the couch.

Hitherby rustles wings innocently.

Sarah murmurs to the telephone before handing it to Daimon, "All right. He, ah -- no, I'm sure you've heard the rather dreadful propaganda for yourself. Thank you, again. If there's anything I can do for you, please, just ask."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Thank you very much, Miss Schaeffer," before the phone is passed across to Daimon.

Pat wanders out of the bedroom a few minutes later, artfully rumpled in dress, and bids farewell. "I'll meet you at lunch."

Sarah takes her turn to kiss Pat on the cheek. "We'll see you there."

Sephar waves a wing.

Pat nods to Sarah, pulling on his coat and hat and tucking his gun underneath his jacket.

<> Liz looks just so amused by this turn of events.

Sarah gives a hug, also, if a very brief one. "Try not to get shot unless necessary," she adds, smiling.

<> Sarah says "Which one?"

<> Pat says "A Laurencian, a Lilim, and a Balseraph all walk into an Italian restaurant..."

Pat smiles at Sarah. "I'll make a point of it."

<> Arcangel | An Elohite, a Seraph, and a Lilim are at a bar... No, *really*...

Sarah agrees, "I am duly reassured."

Pat nods, and makes his way out of the apartment.

Pat takes the metro to the Supreme Court building.

The Supreme Court building is, as ever, busy.

Pat stops at the security booth, produces his CCW permit, and checks his gun with the officer.

The officer checks the gun and gives Pat a ticket for it, then waves him in.

Pat pockets the ticket and moves inside, heading for the appropriate office.

The appropriate office is that of one of the court clerks, a Mr Konstans Vorson. You know him as a Seraph of Dominic, Etecius, and the Seneschal.

Pat knocks on Mr. Vorson's door.

A voice from inside calls, "Come in!"

Pat walks into the office, closing the door behind him.

The bland man behind the desk straightens his spectacles. He is alone in the room. "Good morning, Mazpatiel."

Pat nods. "Good morning, Etecius."

Etecius says, "You have come to make some sort of report?"

<> Demiurge rolls the d666 and gets 6 6 CHECK: 3.

Long distance to arcangel: Demiurge hugs. Is okay. My forgetfulness.

<> Pat says "Not that you'd know, six eyes~!"

<> Arcangel says "Don't forget the SoJ attunement!"

Pat shakes his head. "Rather, to inquire on one."

Etecius tilts his head, the movement sinuous. "Elaborate, if you would."

Pat says "We spoke last night on Jordan's team. I wanted to know if everything went smoothly."

Etecius says, "As far as I am aware. They ascended, and have not as yet returned."

Pat nods. "May I ask if word has descended on the matter of the Oath?"

Etecius says, flatly, "If it had done, I would have informed you. In the lack of direct instructions, I assume that you should continue as you are doing."

Pat nods. "I have further news, though hardly a full report."

Etecius says, "Continue."

Pat says "At noon, we are scheduled to have lunch with Lightner's agent. A Nybban Balseraph."

Etecius' pencil flexes between his fingers. "This seems inadvisable."

Pat says "We are forewarned. I also intend to submit to a debriefing following."

Etecius frowns. "Advisable. Should River-of-Judgement return, I will direct him to contact you."

Pat nods. "My thanks. His visit was...stressful."

Etecius allows his eyebrows to incline a shade. "It is a pity that you associate with those who are so troubled by the arrival of Judgement."

<> Arcangel | Jordan: "I know I have missed following several things I should have, but between two Kyriotates, one Ofanite, Mazpatiel, Daimon, and my resonance frying..."

Pat says "Rather, I was referring to the strain upon River-of-Judgement. I do not believe he was well acquainted with the...unusual nature of my duties here."

Etecius shrugs, a very small movement. "It is the duty of a Triad to assess all problems, no matter their scale or level."

Pat says "Still, some scales are perhaps beyond expectation."

<> Arcangel | Jordan: "Oh yes, and the Princess showing up. Very stressful."

Etecius says, flatly, "That is a matter for the Archangels to judge, and not for us. River-of-Judgement will be attended to."

Pat nods. "Well enough."

Etecius says, "Will there be anything else, Mazpatiel?" His gaze suggests that he can see all the way past cigarette smoke and gun-oil to tangled sheets and Sarah's body.

<> Daimon mmmmms. Sarah's body. :)

<> Pat mmmmms. Gun oil.

Pat shakes his head. "Not immediately. I will be returning after lunch, at some point. If it is not convenient for you, I am willing to be debriefed by another."

Etecius says, "I am sure that someone will be available. Thank you for your prompt report, Mazpatiel."

Pat nods, stepping back. "May Judgement be yours, Etecius."

Etecius inclines his head. "And yours also, Mazpatiel. Walk in righteousness."

Pat dips his head. "Semper Vigilis." He turns to go.

The gun is returned to Pat as he leaves.

Pat considers a moment, then takes the metro line headed for the airport.

On the phone, an English-accented voice says, "Would you be the young man whom I have been requested to talk with?"

Daimon answers the phone. He's not having a good phone day. "Um, hi. I guess. I dunno."

On the phone, the voice says, "I used to be a Servitor to the Prince of Dark Humor. A request was put through from the Archangel of Destiny for me to contact a Miss Schaeffer, Chephirah by name, concerning a young man in her ward."

Daimon says on the phone. "Oh." He pauses a moment. "That would be me. In her _ward_? Geez, it makes me sound like a wayward kid."

Daimon settles on the bed.

On the phone, the voice says, "I am called Chilmad, young man. Admittedly it has been a while since I was down in Shal-Mari, so things have probably changed just a touch." There's an air of someone deliberately trying to be non-threatening.

Daimon pages: Do I recognize this guy? Probably not.

Sarah lingers around the bedroom door, peeking through at Daimon from time to time.

You paged Daimon with 'Nope.'.

Daimon says on the phone. "You can call me Daimon, if you'd like. How long have you been gone?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I - left - after the Children's Crusade, as I believe it is termed these days."

Daimon says into the phone. "Woah. That was long before I was born."

On the phone, there is a very dry chuckle. "Why, are you one of that, ah, disco generation, or whatever it is called?"

Daimon says on the phone, "I'm a little older then _that_, but I'm a modern kid, yeah."

Daimon lays back and sprawls on the bed, phone held to his ear.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Very well. I understand that you would be interested in talking to a person who chose to leave Dark Humor. How may I help you?"

Daimon says on the phone, "Why did you do it?"

On the phone, Chilmad is silent a moment, then says, "It began when I was attuned to some of the children. You are aware of how that sort of attachment can backfire, I take it?"

Daimon says into the phone, "Kinda."

On the phone, Chilmad says, voice distant, "The whole business began to seem rather less Funny after that, Daimon."

Daimon says into the phone, "But it was the Children's Crusade. They say it was one of the highlights of the Boss's career." He obviously has tones of reverence in his voice - still.

<> Azalea says "mmmm Children's Crusade"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Ships sank, and parents wept, and those who survived were sold in the slave markets and the brothels."

Daimon says, "Oh." After a moment he says, "That takes all the fun out of it."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "You are more ethical than I was, Daimon. I would not have cared at all, if I had not come to care for one of my attunements."

Daimon furrows his brow. "I'm more _confused_ then ethical, to tell you the truth."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "At the least, you would appear to be facing in the right general direction. All that I could think of was vengeance." There is something in his voice still raw at the memory, a wound deliberately showed.

Daimon says, "I have nothing to be particularly angry about the time of my service." He pauses. "But I'm sorry it hurt you so."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "It was hardly your fault. But the thought is appreciated. Thank you."

Daimon says on the phone, "No problem. So... ah... what did Sarah tell you to tell me?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I believe that she felt you had some misconceptions concerning the nature of Redemption. I am not sure what to tell you, as I do not know what you have been told. The tales may have changed since my day."

Daimon says, "I dunno. I heard all sorts of very interesting things."

On the phone, Chilmad considers. "The ones concerning the Servitors of Jordi tearing the Redeemed to pieces? Or Lightning using them for experimental subjects?"

Daimon says, "I've heard those, and the bit about the cages, and the bit about being used for cannon fodder. The ones that bugged my friends is the bit about atonement. Now I understand that you NEED to atone, because on reflection I've done some pretty shitty things in the eyes of God so to speak. But I'm not sure I really want to go through that."

Sarah swallows, and presses herself against the wall to one side of the door, closing her eyes.

On the phone, Chilmad is silent for a full minute. Eventually, he says, "I can only tell you how it was for me, and what I came to."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "My atonement was realisation. If you have ever truly realised that you have done wrong, Daimon, and felt guilt for it, then that is what true atonement is. There is nothing more personal than that, and nothing larger."

Daimon says, "I can't believe that."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Does it seem too easy, perhaps?"

Daimon says, "You know what we do. Some of it is fun, some of it hurts no one, and some of it is horrible. I cannot believe for one moment that all you feel is a little guilt. I feel guilt all the time, and I haven't gone anywhere."

<> Pat chokes back answers.

On the phone, Chilmad's voice has a strange calm to it. "If you had ever felt true guilt, Daimon - enough to move you to act - then you would understand what I am trying to say. It is perhaps that I am poor with words, and thus I cannot reach you."

Daimon says, "Maybe I'm just a moron. Which is a possibility I have seriously considered. I can't really believe that there is no _punishment_ for our acts. None. At all."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Do you hit an ignorant child, or do you explain to it what it has done wrong?"

Daimon says, more then passingly bitter, "It depends on the demon you ask."

Daimon radiates self-loathing like a small pulsar.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I will not pretend that it is easy or painless, but in the end our atonement is self-knowledge and action. It is not torture, nor is it cruelty. It is choice."

Daimon asks, "So how do you make up for what you have done?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I once destroyed children. Now I guard them and educate them. This is my atonement."

Daimon says, "Ah."

On the phone, Chilmad says, something heavier, "I once acted without responsibility. Now I bind myself to act with honour, as the Sword guides. This is choice."

Daimon says, "I don't want to do a 180 on my personality. It took me a long time to come to terms with myself as myself. I don't want to wake up being someone else, and not remember who I was. I've felt too much pain to just throw it all away because I think it would be cool."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Tell me, young man. If I did not remember who I had been, do you think that I would want to do what I am doing now?"

Daimon thinks for a moment. "So you live with the memory of who you _were_?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Yes, as does every living soul. Is Kobal who _he_ was? And you are not what you once were, either."

Daimon thinks, and continues to lie like a heap on the bed with the phone pressed to his ear. "So you get to live with all the stuff you've done, even when you're Bright? You get to live with it torturing you _forever_?"

<> Arcangel says, with heavy sarcasm, "Daimon always sees the *bright* side of things."

On the phone, Chilmad says, dryly, "Young man, first you complain because Redemption sounds too easy, and now you complain because you will have to live with the consequences of your actions."

Daimon says, "I never said I had all the answers, or that I had a clear head."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Neither do I claim to have all the answers. I can tell you that I find purpose in what I am doing."

Daimon pauses for a while, and thinks. Finally, he says, "So how did you know?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Know which?"

Daimon says, into the phone, "What your purpose was?"

On the phone, there is a tapping, as of a pen against a desk, then Chilmad replies. "In answer to what you are not asking, young man, I was not cast into a mould and stamped out once I Redeemed. I asked for the task of caring for the young."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "It was for the sake of those who I had not saved. Can you understand that?"

Daimon says, "I think I can."

Daimon feels like he's being beaten with a rolled up newspaper and being told to go outside.

Sarah peeks in through the door again for a moment, looking vaguely hopeful.

On the phone, Chilmad's voice becomes a shade depressed. "I fear that I am the wrong person to have been asked to speak with you, Daimon. I am probably giving you the impression that all those who have Redeemed are full of grief and regret."

Daimon says, "No, it's okay. Really. I sort of bug everyone. It's my wonderful aura of depression. But to be honest, I can be full of grief and regret without abandoning my family and my friends. I do it with ease, actually."

On the phone, Chilmad says, wryly, "I also suspect that you would judge yourself far more harshly than you would others."

Daimon says, "Maybe. I have to live with myself, you know. I don't get time off for good behavior."

On the phone, Chilmad's voice becomes thoughtful. "Have you ever respected the judgement of another person enough that you would freely offer yourself up to be weighed by them, knowing that you had done wrong?"

Daimon says, "I think it happened twice in the last two days. Maybe more, I lost count. Yesterday was a bad day."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Well, then, imagine offering yourself up to the Symphony - in the person of an Archangel - to be judged and weighed in the balance."

Daimon rolls his eyes. "Again?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I beg your pardon?"

Daimon asks, "I have to do it again? Okay, no problem. I'll ask Pat about it."

On the phone, there is the suspicion of a sigh. "Did you go freely and of your own will to the Archangel, and say, "I have been wrong. I have made mistakes. I am sorry. I want to start again.""

Daimon says, "No, not yet. I mean, when I saw Dominic - excuse me, Dominique - she said that the Gates of Heaven were available to me. And the Triad seemed pretty cool about the whole Judgment thing, I guess they were supposed to drag me off and chop me up into kibble. And that Fire Malakite, Eddie, said 'You'll do', but I don't want to go through that again. But I'm afraid I haven't been around an Archangel long enough, except Marc, who was cool enough to let me just talk to them. Maybe I'll try that next, if I don't freeze again. So what did I do _wrong_? I didn't say the right stuff?"

On the phone, Chilmad says, slowly, "Let me try this from a different direction. Would you say that the Punishers are sane? Or that they truly serve Heaven?"

Daimon says, slowly, on the phone, "No, the Habbalah are just as broken and nuts as the rest of us."

On the phone, Chilmad says, encouragingly, "And if you have met an Elohite of late, would you say that he is tolerably sane?"

Daimon says, slowly, "Of course. I _came_ to Pat _because_ he's the sanest person that I've met in a very long time."

On the phone, Chilmad says, still in the same gentle tone of voice, "Do you think that it is easy, to be sane after being insane?"

Daimon says, very carefully, "Look. I've paid several very expensive shrinks to tell me what I already know, I'm depressed. Probably clinically, who knows. Do I think it's easy to come out of that and just be happy forever? Of course not. Do I think the Habbalah have a hard ugly road ahead of them? Yes, I think so. But I don't change. And now you tell me I get to live with it forever as well. I love the thought of dwelling on it and begging for God to tell me that okay, I've done enough, now I can take a vacation." He frowns, and lets the rant come out. "Why don't I just go back and curl up in Hell? I would, if I could, but right now I _can't_, and I'm only interested in doing what is the Right thing to do at all costs. Okay? That's what holds me together. Not worrying about being a nutcase."

On the phone, there is a sound which might be that of someone pushing a paper-knife hard into a desk, in the distance. Chilmad says, steadily, "You do not have to spend forever atoning. I am looking after children because. I. Want to."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I have the _option_ of feeling better. I can do my best, and know that I did it, and feel content with it."

Daimon says, very quietly, "I'm very sorry. I'm very sorry for bothering you."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Oh, damnation. Young man, I apologise for losing my temper."

Daimon bites his lip, and lays there, staring at the ceiling.

Daimon says, "I'm sorry for bothering you with my problems. I... I'm happy you're happy now."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I cannot give you any easy answers. I can tell you that you will not be abused. I can tell you that Redemption will help, but I am not sure that I have the skill to convince you of it."

Sarah takes a couple of steps actually into the bedroom, rather than lurking outside the door. She looks, as usual, concerned.

Daimon says, simply, "Okay."

Daimon doesn't sound real convinced.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I could stop, if I wanted to, and request some other form of service to my Archangel. I suppose that I have simply got used to dealing with cadets."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "As a Djinn, I did not believe that forgiveness was possible. As a Cherub, I came to perceive that I can be forgiven."

Daimon says again, "Okay."

Sarah curls up at the foot of the bed, in bathrobe, looking over the edge of it at Daimon.

On the phone, Chilmad asks, "Would it make you feel any better, young man, if I told you that Redemption was agonisingly painful and difficult?"

Daimon says, "Oddly, yes. The agonizingly painful sounds about right."

Daimon . o O ( Probably exactly what _I_ deserve. )

Sarah sits up straighter, going from concern into distress (good thing Daimon isn't looking at her), and reaches to lay a hand on, well, whatever of him is nearest. Most likely a foot.

On the phone, Chilmad snorts. "Remind me to start with that the next time, then, because it is extremely painful. One feels much as a harp or violin does when it is being retuned."

Daimon says quietly, "And I will probably die. Which is why I will put it off as long as possible, and try to finish what I Need to finish before I even try it."

Daimon continues, "I can't afford to die right now. I... It's a pain to be needed, but there it is."

On the phone, Chilmad says, surprised, "Why should you die?"

Daimon says, "That's what I heard. Most of those who wish to... do... IT... die in the process."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Yes, I believe I was told as much myself. I have heard that some demons do die of it, but the angelic versions have the numbers at a rather lower rate."

Daimon says, quietly, "Even if there is a chance, I can't afford to die right now."

Sarah murmurs, quietly, "I won't let you die."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Then let it wait for the moment. I cannot think that a person acting for unselfish motives is moving away from Heaven, Daimon."

Daimon asks, quietly, "Maybe I'm being selfish in wanting to hold on and do what Needs to be done."

On the phone, Chilmad pauses to think. "He - my Master - did not appear to me, and say, "You must Repent or die." He let me choose, to come to him, or to continue as I was. Your friends may wish you Bright, young man, but nobody will push you."

On the phone, Chilmad adds, "Or what would be the virtue in choice and freedom, otherwise?"

Daimon squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip. "There is such thing as too much Freedom." He curses himself for saying that, but there it is.

On the phone, Chilmad thinks again. "The choice has to exist, though. If none of us ever had a choice, then there would be no sin in our evil, and no virtue in our honor."

Daimon says, "Free will."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I do not claim to be a theologian, Daimon, but I believe that freedom of will is necessary to choice, and that choice is necessary to virtue or sin, and therefore to all things."

Daimon says, simply, "Okay." He's not in the mood to argue the philosophy of predestination and free will.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "So, nobody will attempt to force you into Redeeming. And on the other hand, nobody will try and force you into "atoning". You will either want to, or you will not feel it necessary."

Daimon says again, "Oh." He pauses. "So if I feel I need to spend the rest of my life atoning, then I do. Otherwise, I just say okay, I'm forgiven, and move on."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "You have the point precisely."

<> Liz says "Hell is not other people. Hell is *yourself*"

<> Daimon says "Ah, but I know that already."

<> Daimon says "But I don't get to leave myself somewhere and walk away."

Daimon says, "Oh."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Consider me out of touch with the current rumours, so I am therefore unable to disprove them singly."

Daimon is feeling more then a little defeated. "Oh. Okay."

Sarah leans half on the bed, looking up across it toward Daimon.

Daimon continues to stare up at the ceiling, chewing on his lip, and looking just, well, depressed.

Sarah crawls up on the bed beside him, on the non-phone side, and puts an arm about his waist.

On the phone, Chilmad also sounds somewhat defeated. "I could tell you that I am now happier than I ever was before, and that I can truly hear the Symphony: but you will either believe me, or you will not."

Daimon says, "That sounds like what Pat said. Well, he doesn't know what it's like, but you know. That was his gist."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Could you explain love to somebody who had never felt it, do you think? What it felt like, and what it cost you?"

Daimon says, simply, "No."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "I can only try and tell you that we are in something of the same position, and ask you to believe us."

Daimon says, "Okay." After a moment he finishes with, "It's hard to trust. It's harder to believe."

Sarah hugs herself against Daimon's side for a moment, gentle.

Daimon looks up at Sarah, eyes full of tears, and smooths the hair back away from her face.

On the phone, Chilmad says, quietly, "It took me a hundred years."

Daimon says, "That's half my life."

Sarah slips her other arm beneath Daimon's head, and brushes gently at any tears that spill.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "Different people journey in different ways."

Daimon looks up at Sarah's ministrations, and chokes a little bit. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know if I keep talking."

On the phone, Chilmad says, "We can always talk at some other time, if you wish. Miss Schaeffer has my number."

Daimon says weakly, "Okay," and hands the phone to Sarah.

Daimon looks apologetic. "I can't go on anymore, Sarah. I tried."

Sarah whispers, "You don't have to," still cradling. And takes the phone with the hand not under Daimon's head. "Thank you," she says aloud, simply.

On the phone, Chilmad says, "A good day to you, Miss Schaeffer. Walk in honor." He sets the phone down.

Daimon says, weakly, "Sarah?"

Sarah turns off the phone, drops it on the bed, and uses both arms to hug Daimon rather than one. "Yes?"

Daimon bites down hard enough on his lower lip to start to draw a little blood, to keep from breaking down. He says hoarsely, "No more, okay? Please? No more. I just can't take any more."

Sarah says quietly, "I'm sorry, Daimon. There were things you needed to know. I don't know if he told them to you - I was surprised you took the call, rather than waiting." She hesitates: adds, quietly, "I swear by all that is holy that I will not tell anyone if you cry."

Daimon, thinking he's done rather a lot of this in the last twenty-four hours, breaks down in Sarah's arms, because it's the best thing to do.

Sarah does not offer a word of comment: simply lends him her shoulder, for as long as he needs.

Daimon needs the shoulder for quite some time, and cries until he's too exhausted to go on any longer.

Sarah does not push him either to stop or go on; just strokes his hair, sometimes his shoulders, silent and patient.

Daimon eventually calms down, and says with a quiet choked voice, "I don't _really_ want to die Sarah, even if I think about it all the time. I'm afraid to die. I... and I'm afraid of _this_ too. Even more than dying."

Sarah says, very quietly, "I won't let anyone hurt you, Daimon. I can't. That's what I am."

Daimon says, quietly, "I'm so scared and confused. This wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to go up to Heaven. I just wanted to be _loyal_."

Sarah says "You don't have to go anywhere, Daimon."

Daimon says "No?"

Sarah strokes his hair back. "No."

Daimon says "Not even if it becomes necessary?"

Sarah says "It's still your choice. It must be, or it's meaningless. As much so as sex without caring."

Daimon says "I'm tired of being sad and alone."

Sephar hop-flutters close.

Sarah says "I don't know how to change your sadness - but you aren't alone."

Sarah glances up to offer the pigeon a small smile.

Sephar cocks its head a bit and bobs a nod to Sarah's smile.

Daimon says "Not anymore?"

Sarah nods her head toward Sephar. "You have friends."

Sephar bobs a nod to Daimon.

Daimon says, weakly, "I don't feel very well, but I will by the time that we have to do the next thing. I will be okay by the time lunch comes around."

Sephar says "Then rest?"

Sarah combs Daimon's hair with her fingertips. "Someone, if I recall, said that that was the meaning of life. Do the next thing." She kisses Daimon on the forehead. "You can have the shower whenever you like."

Daimon nods weakly. "All my clothes are at Liz's."

Hitherswarm drifts in quietly. "I have alertly detected a modest concentration of unhappiness."

Sephar coo's softly, "Pat's bringing them."

Sephar says "Your clothes, that is, Daimon."

Sephar cocks its head, "And a few extra towels and sheets and blankets, I think."

Daimon says "Oh, I didn't know that."

Sephar bobs a nod, "The Cabalite of Nightmares knows about her hangar, so it is unsafe."

Sarah directs another small smile to Hitherby's swarm. "Ah. Yes."

Daimon lets that one just pass.

Hitherby hums, softly, "Those crazy Calabim. Er, Sephar, did I miss something?"

Daimon says to Sarah quietly, "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

Hitherby whirls up a cheerful scale, and says, "We'll get your Prince out. Then we all can do more right things."

Sarah says softly, "I know." She brushes at his cheek again with her palm. "You're doing well, I think."

Sephar blinks at Hitherby, "Perhaps."

Sarah pauses and blinks at Hitherby. Then takes her turn to let that one just pass.

Sephar blinks again and chuckle-coo's, "Perhaps to the missing something... yes to the faith of what we'll do."

Daimon nods. "Okay." He pauses. "Just tell me when I'm not doing well anymore."

Hitherby bobs. "You can discuss the Calabite from the television?" A few bugs split off and drift out towards the main room.

Sarah murmurs to Daimon, "I think you'll be able to tell that, yourself."

Daimon nods. He says quietly, "Sarah, I feel like I'm sinking into some sort of swirling blackness of confusion. I'm freaking out. It's like blow after blow... I'm trying not to break. But I might. Okay? I might just end up staring at the ceiling forever."

Sephar nods and flutters off to the TV.

Hitherby makes a faint 'morp' noise, and says, "Recommend a study of kitten behavior."

Hitherby drifts back out towards the main room.

Sarah answers, softly, "Lean on me if you need it. When you need to be left alone, tell me. When you need not to..."

Sarah directs another puzzled glance toward the swarm as it drifts away.

Daimon says, "Okay." And then, "Thanks."

Hitherby hovers in front of the television, and says, politely, "Summary?"

Hitherby adds, "And do you wish to accompany me?"

Sarah closes her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "Maybe we should get you a kitten."

Sepharpigeon thinks a bit, "Liz and I were greeted by the strangewoman/Celestial outside the hanger, and we ended that conversation by sayin gthat we would meet with her later."

Daimon says "Maybe."

Sepharpigeon, "So we met her at Sistine's, which we found out was a Tether for Creation."

Hitherby hums happily. "A worthy Word."

Sepharpigeon says apologetically, "We didn't know that, so Liz ran to Sistine's as quickly as possible, only to find that the Malakim of Creation had already met the strange woman, and found out that she was a Calabim of Nightmares."

Hitherby considers. "And she was a Calabite of Nightmares?"

Hitherby bobs.

Sephar says "Well that's what the Malakim said, so I believe it."

Sarah smiles, slightly. "Maybe."

Hitherby wobbles thoughtfully in the air, as a top winding down, and then straightens. "I should not take advantage of him. However, it will be fortunate if he should join our cause for other reasons."

Sephar bob-nods at Hitherby.

Daimon sighs, calming down, in Sarah's arms, and starting to visibly relax.

Hitherby reflects. "Then, no doubt, the Malakite beat her about the head with a fondue and a bottle of wine, and there was no longer a Calabite problem?"

Sephar shakes its head. "She has great creative potential, so he decided to protect her."

Sarah smiles at him, and gives him what time he needs.

Sephar says "Plus she told us about Nightmares knowing about Liz."

Hitherby reflects on that.

Hitherby says "What does Nightmares know about Liz?"

Sephar says "Her address, where she lives, and to follow her."

Daimon nods after a while. "I'll be okay Sarah."

Sarah murmurs, "Does that mean you'll want the shower?" with a small smile.

Hitherby bobs. "Then I shall detail a portion of myself to her."

Daimon says "Yeah. I think so. A shower would be good."

Sarah says "Coffee afterward? Tea? Or wait for lunch?"

Hitherby whispers a few bars of a canon. "What can you tell me about the Game Tether? Focals?"

Sephar coos quietly, in unstraightened bird, "And she wishes to flow with a Flock of Heaven. So that might be tasty/good/wind under the wings."

Daimon says "A little coffee would be good. I can eat at lunch."

Sarah straightens up, letting go of Daimon slowly. "Coffee it is, then."

Daimon sits up on the bed.

Sarah goes and makes coffee while Daimon showers.

Sephar says "Where are you going?"

Hitherby says "Everywhere. And Focals."

Sephar blinks quietly. "Why are you going to Focals, Hitherby?"

Hitherby says "Where else are we going to find information about our enemy's motions?"

Hitherby says "I'm also going to Liz's and Shannen's. I don't know if I'll catch up to Liz, though."

Sephar says "How are you thinking of getting in?"

Hitherby says "As a flea."

Hitherby says "Invisible, inaudible, and a really good jumper."

Sephar thinks about that.

Hitherby hums cheerfully. "For practical purposes."

Sephar says "That is."

Sephar says "Not one that I think I can follow."

Sephar says "Liz is still at the hanger, so you might be able to catch up with her."

Sephar says "Though the floor board worked while I could stay with it."

Sepharpigeon dances just a bit as it thinks.

Sephar says "Do you want company? Or would I get in the way?"

Hitherby hums atonally, "I would appreciate someone nearby, and there is no reason why we cannot talk as I investigate."

Sephar bobs a nod then.

Sephar says "Certainly then."

Sephar . o O ( If a computer throws you... )

Hitherby whirls softly, once, as if sketching a dance, and says, "Is Daimon all right?"

<> Hitherby | Sephar says, "The password is 'Example.'" Hitherby hops laboriously from key to key. *click* *click* *click*.

<> Liz says "| "Mom, there's two pigeons on my computer!" 'What are they doing?' "Typing. One holds down the Shift Key, the other hunts and pecks.""

Sephar cocks its head and peers over at the door, "I don't think he's all right. He's got too many things happening. Liz told me some of it. Though, likely, Sarah has more complete data as to his state."

<> Hitherby says "*Augh*."

<> Hitherby whapwhapwhaps Liz.

Hitherby bobs.

Hitherby whispers a descant. "If we were not engaged in battle on his behalf, I would recommend removing him to safety to recover himself. It does not seem practical under the current circumstances."

Hitherby hums reflectively. "Do we have locations on the non-Bellman's connections?"

<> Sephar says "Is there data on locations that aren't Bellman's?"

Sephar nods a bit at the recommendation. "I think, however, it is important to him to fight for what he believes right as well."

<> Demiurge says "Hm. What sort of locations?"

<> Sephar says "That were linked to Focals."

<> Demiurge says "A load of investing companies and investments, but no other particular places, no."

Hitherby says "As I said."

Hitherby muses. "Meet you atop the building, then?"

Sephar bobs a nod at Hitherby, apologetically, "True, it is as you said."

Hitherby ripples her body, in the aforementioned Kyriotate sign for "Now there are two of us; we have them outnumbered."

---

Fiat Justitia