ic The Meadows Of Plenty

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Always putting on a show? The words stung true, and Lament pondered them with a mix of pride and wounded ego. But so what if he did? Luther LeGrasse was how he was made, and no man should offer apology for what he is, only what he does. 

 

He sniffed in the cooler air, something of a relief after the heat of the day.

 

"Fountain guy? Well, I guess fountain guy it is."

 

That word could have two meanings. The fountain they stood by, or the fountain that brought forth the elixir of joy. 

 

Elixir... that word had potency. Was this some eldritch or mythological font? Like the fountain of youth? Luther was no wizard, despite his appearances, but he knew darn well that Eldritch forces seeped into this world. 

 

 "I want to know what I'm tasting, first," he said. "Seen too many junkheads dead in a filthy ally with a needle in their arm, if you know what I mean."

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

"What you're tasting? Oh, my my, my friend, you wanna see how the sausage is made? That's bold for a first timer, a harsh curiosity. But I won't hide it." the Fountain Man said, still not looking at Luther. He wasn't here to get caught out by a cop, after all.

 

"I'm just a seller, but I'll let you know; these little containers contain pure liquid joy; from people who lose it all here in the City of Lights. When that joy goes belly up; when the lights go out and the dreams get lost and the horse comes in last, all that delicious happiness goes bye-bye. And somehow or another, it ends up getting bottled, and whoever is doing the bottling sends it out to people like me." 

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Luther initially responded to the answer with scorn. No, this was some story, something to pull in the customers... it was just some new synthetic drug, surely. Something that tickled this neuroreceptor and pummelled another. 

 

But then the scorn melted away. The story was a good one, plausible at the very least. Yes, this was Las Vegas, and dreams lived and died here. It had a certain magic, did it not? Maybe it was all just the hypnotic appeal of lights, but it was a magic nonetheless. 

 

"So someone's cast a net to catch the lost joy? Now that I gotta see...." he said, stretching himself up straight. "I could do with some joy to feed on."

 

Or rather, the Void did. 

 

Was this the answer to all of Luthers problems? It was tantalising, so tantalising. 

 

"Where can I meet this mystery man?"

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

"Woah woah now, Mr. New Guy, I wouldn't know that at all." The seller said, rolling his eyes a bit. "I'm just a merchant. I don't see how the sausage is made. I don't know what you want with that information, or how I'm supposed to provide it...that's all a bit beyond me, ya know." he said. "Where'd you get this guy, Piano Man? He asks a bit too many questions for someone wanting some bliss...he a cop? You wearing a wire?" he asked. Charles himself looked a little uncomfortable. He wasn't expecting Luther to ask so many questions, and he was threatening his own supplier. Was Charles regretting bringing Luther along?

 

But the question. 'Are you a cop?' 'Are you wearing a wire?' Those were dangerous questions indeed; maybe they were half joking questions, and he ended them with a pause and a chuckle. But it wasn't a question someone in this sort of situation ever really asked as 'a joke'. Luther would need to be careful here, if he really wanted to find out more. Or he could end up rooming with Jimmy Hoffa.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Luther cursed under his breath and chewed his teeth. Of course, the middle man didn't know the source. He was just the profiteer. 

 

"No wire. No cop," replied Luther, deadpan. He allowed just a little of the Void to sink into his eyes, darkening them. "But someone you don't want to mess with..." he said, voice low, dark. 

 

It was said with utter confidence. Luther had years of experience, and plenty of talent, in scaring people. 

 

"I need to know where that joy came from. How to get it. A lot of people are going to get hurt if I can't feed. And I feed on joy. A lot of people..."

 

He took a deep breath in, clenched his fists, unclenched them, breathed out. 

 

"If I cant find it, then you are going to wish I was a cope, I was wearing a wire. You are going to beg that I was. Because there is something a lot darker in this world, and joy is the only thing that keeps it fed. Want me to show you? Maybe you do. But once I show you, you will go to bed every night wishing you hadn't been shown..."

 

"

[Poncho]

((GM Post)

 

"Woah woah woah!" the fake homeless man said, hopping up suddenly. "Chill, chill out, man, I don't want no trouble with no evil spook!" he yelled. "I get my supplies at the convention center, off the monorail! There's a guy there, he handles giving me the product!" he finished before he took off for the safety of the Bellagio's insides, where there were more people around, and more lights. No Void in there. 

 

Charles wiped his mouth on a hankerchief and frowned a bit.

 

"W...well. I suppose that brings our little adventure together to a close, Mr. Zombo. I uh...I hope you have a good rest of your night." He finished, putting his kerchief away. He did stop to pluck the vial out of the cup of money the fake homeless man had been using, a vial of shining, brilliant gold.  He quickly pocketed that and made to get away from Luther. He hadn't been the target of the intimidation, but he clearly didn't want to get wrapped up in whatever Luther was about to be doing.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

That, thought Luther, was satisfactory. 

 

Although his fingertips still tingled. Should he have sampled the joy? It was tempting, so tempting. The realisation made his blood turn cold; where did Luther end and the Void begin?

 

Nonetheless, it did no good to ruminate on the bleakness of existence. No! The antidote to paralysis was action. 

 

He stuffed his hands in his purple jacket pocket and started walking to the monorail. He could catch a ticket, get off and browse through the Convention centre. 

 

At least the monorail ride would have a pleasant, nay, spectacular view of Vegas lights. And would be a serene pause amongst the disconcerting new occurrences. He could take a deep breath, secure in the thought that nothing exciting or action packed could happen during a Monorail trip. 

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

The Orb was the big show on the tiny trip down the monorail. Just a few stops, mostly at casinos, then a swinging, easy ride down past hotels and over streets, past a flat parking structure wall filled with advertisements for currently playing musical and other acts. The Orb, however, was currently in the shape of an advertisement for an upcoming convention at the Convention Center.

 

For a moment, though, the monorail slowed. Everything got a little greyer, a little less bold. The Orb changed. It wasn't an advertisement. It was a single eye, as red as brimstone. It looked directly at Luther. It blinked. It acknowledged his existence.

 

Then it was gone. The Monorail was back to moving normally, the advertisement returned to the Orb. And then after a few more minutes Luther was let off at the top of the long stairs in the middle of the Convention Center parking lot. It was empty; nothing going on at the Convention Center this week. But it was where he was told to go, into the Convention Center.

 

But it did look closed. He'd need to get closer to get some more information. But was he still being observed? What even was that thing on the Monorail, what had replaced the orb?

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Luther was not a blinking kind of guy, but he blinked. Am I seeing things? Been a strange day... did I take something funky?

 

No - no he had definitely seen the orb. Something spooky was spying on him. Or maybe something that was very good at looking spooky - Luther knew better than anybody that spooky things could be just good old fashioned technology and sleight of hand. But still, whatever it was spying on him. 

 

That meant he had to be cautious. 

 

With a sickening, prickly feeling he brought the near-mindless void to his skin, black, oily - something that blended in with the night. Like this, he was near invisible. 

 

And so cloaked, he entered the centre. 

 

Hopefully he would not need the skin long, for the Void, so alive, had a habit of seeping its tendrils into his soul...

Edited October 31 by Supercape

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

What kind of criminals were bold enoguh to break into a building to make it a distribution hub for their drugs? 

 

Ones with- presumably- deep pockets and a lot of product to move. 

 

In a few weeks, this same area would host the Magic the Gathering World Championship, the area filled with Magic players and fans from all across the world watching the action or participating in side games. But right now, at the Las Vegas Convention Center, in the big entryway, there was jostling and moving of crates. 

 

Dealers lined up at plastic tables handing off money and getting tickets, then getting shuffled to the side where they were given marked crates of bottles of that liquid gold, then they quickly left. Some took small orders, some took big orders, but there were easily hundreds of people all together between the workers and the dealers buying product. All of it was being overseen by a dark-skinned man in a heavy fur coat- despite the heat- sitting on the balcony on the second floor and flanked by two heavies, watching the proceedings with a grin. 

 

"Come on, come on, you know we don't have this place all night. Turn in your purchases and buy your new product people; Liquid Joy's only good for a little while. But don't worry if we run out, there's always more tomorrow! So hurry up and turn in your purchases."

 

For now, between the Void and the fact Luther wasn't trying to be anything, no one had noticed him slip in. But if he did something drastic, it was likely they would.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"That," said Lament to himself. "Is a LOT of drugs..."

 

What was it worth? Maths was not his forte, nor was the nuances of economics. But even he could calculate - it was a LOT of money. 

 

But was it all about money? Maybe. Probably, even. But there were darker motivations, darker forces, than greed in the world. So who knew?

 

For now, the situation called for a subtle approach. Lament needed a disguise; it was no good prancing about in his ZOMBO clothes. Where could he find some new ones? A big convention centre? Presumably they had a lost and found section, maybe he could pilfer something from there. 

 

Quiet, slow, he edge around the masses, looking for some opportunity to grab some threads...

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

A quick little jaunt around the building was in order for Luther to find some new threads, which was at least helpful that the drug dealers seemed to primarily be moving around in the lobby. This gave Luther free reign to snoop around the center and look for lost and found. 

 

He did eventually find it, hidden in a locked office on the second floor, behind a set of double glass doors. He'd need to get in there somehow. 

 

And the light of flashlights was waving down the hallway, possibly guards of the drug stealing operation doing a sweep of the area!

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Smashing through the glass doors was possible, but not to Luther's taste. Glass - real glass, not the fake ones used in magic shows and Hollywood movies - was tougher than it looked and sharp as hell. Besides, it would make a lot of noise and the guards would hear. 

 

What he needed was some keys. Or... well, those guards had uniforms, didn't they. Sure, that might work. 

 

He stumbled forward, feigning intoxication, towards the guards. 

 

"Mmmshhnahhh..." he mumbled. "Party time! Woohoo!"

 

With a little more of a stumble, he collided with the guards. If they had any keys... Luther's dexterous hands would be lifting them!

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

"Bah, it's just some guy hopped up on Joy." one of the guards siad, throwing a look at his compatriot. He had the look of a guard for the drug empire; he had an uzi but not an official uniform. He pushed Luther off him with a grunt. "Get off of me. Go back to the drink rooms, bozo, instead of getting in our way. We're trying to keep this place together and undamaged." he said before briskly continuing on with a snarl, his buddy following him.

 

But Luther had stumbled away with the keys to whatever car that guy was driving.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Keys... but to what?"

 

Luther scurried over to the lost and found door and tried to wedge the key in. 

 

"No... no... oh come on! Get the hell in you pissajunk!"

 

But it was no good, the door didn't open. Luther took a deep breath and tried to blow out his frustration. Half successful, he studied the key. "Hmmm. Looks like a set of car keys. Well, if I need to make a getaway..."

 

He pocketed the keys with a little chuckle. 

 

Still, there was the door. "The mighty Lament! The Sultan of Sorrow, the Duke of despair, the Marquis of Melancholia... defeated by a locked door..."

 

Unless, of course, he didn't enter via the front door?

 

Was there a window instead?

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

To the luck of Lament, he could spy the window to this office across the building; a bit of a lucky step to have the convention center office have a window view. Which meant all he needed to do was find a window in the convention center, then he could, using the mighty power of the void, swing around and drop his way into the Convention center office, where the box of clothes marked Lost and Found was sitting on a small table.

 

He'd at least reached his prize!

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Excellent!" said Lament, cracking his knuckles and raising his eyebrows. Crawling across the building was not something he was used to - and heights, whilst he could tolerate them, still made him uneasy. And, to cap it all, manifesting the Void to his skin felt...

 

...overwhelming. 

 

The more the Void coated his skin and bones, the more he felt his own essence, his own soul, downing. Lost. 

 

He shook his head free of such macabre and distubing rumination and started a good rummage in the lost and found. Womens clothes, kids clothes - no. Some of the clothing was odorous and did not suit his nostrils. There was, frankly, not a lot of choice. 

 

An over the shoulder leather bag, to store his ZOMBO costume. 

 

A coudrour jacket, a little too big. 

 

A pair of jeans, a little too small (even for Luther). 

 

A t shirt with a ketchup stain, probably discarded, with some heavy metal band print - faded. 

 

Some garish purple sunglasses. 

 

The only thing he couldnt find was some shoes. So he had to keep his own trainers. So be it. 

 

Now, so armed with an innocuous outfit, odd but not remarkable (bar the ketchup stain), Luther strode to the Conference centre with an air of confidence, to see if he could start asking the right questions to the right people. Somebody, somewhere, had to know where this junk was coming from!

 

And all the while, he had the gnawing temptation to try liquid joy!

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

And so Luther was back in the main area of the Convention Center, and this time he looked right.

 

"Hurry up buyers! We're running short on product and we're running short on time! Take a number and get in line!" shouted the Emcee on a bullhorn. "Come on, come on, we don't have all night!"

 

And all the while, the boss was sitting above the stairs, watching. He might be hard to get to, but he would surely know the most.

 

"Next!" yelled one of the sellers, counting money on a fat stack of cash. He might know a little bit, but as fast as the line would moving, how many questions could Luther hope to ask before being pushed aside?

 

The glare of the guards- not real security guard, but gangsters with their guns and weapons- watching every single person that walked past, sweltered with heat. How much would they know? Would they be willing to share what they knew? A difficult question.

 

So many people to ask, where was Luther's gaze leading towards?

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Luther was not good at waiting in queues. He picked a number, tapped his feet, whistled a Quincy Jones number, and could wait no longer. 

 

He bumped into somebody else with a higher number. 

 

Low, behold, they had "accidentally" swapped numbers. That was pickpocketing and magic tricks for you. 

 

Smirking, he jumped the queue to the boss. 

 

Guns - he didnt like them. Too many in New Orleans, going up. The sound of gunfire at night was rare, but not rare enough. And he had seen people catch bullets. It wasn't pretty. Worse, the thugs looks like they would actually like to shoot them, rather than just posing with them to buttress up their ego. 

 

"Before I buy..." he said, lurching over the boss in a faux-drunken state, eyes moving dolls fashion, limbs akimbo and flailing. "I wanna know what's in this. Words sayzzzz it good, but is it really? Whats the quality control? I dont wanna junk up with any old liquid crap!"

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

The boss looked at him darkly.

 

More than darkly. Darkly was the adjective of a man looking at you in annoyance, in anger, in frustration or distaste.

 

The Boss did not look Darkly, because that would imply his gaze was that of a man.

 

The Boss' gaze was demonic. It was a gaze of absolute hatred, of supreme disgust, of the epitome of negative emotions. Unpleasant was an understatement, this was a gaze that would curdle milk.

 

"Get away from me, you drunkard." he snapped. "Buy it or don't." his voice was venom. Ice cold venom. "Either get back in line to buy some stuff or my friends can help you sober up, if you want."

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Hey hey, no worries! Just wanna know what its going taste like, feel like, man. Look, I stuffed half of Freedom City into my stomach, and the other half into my veins. I know my junk, man. I can even give you a good review, if you want it..."

 

Deliberately fumbling his wallet, Luther took out a few hundred dollar bills, scrunching them up and putting them on the table in front of him. 

 

"Look, I can pay, right? I just want the five star stuff, though. We can make a five star deal, can't we? Good for business. You look like a businessman... right? Sell as much as you can for as high a price as you can? I can be one of your best customers! I can get you a dozen... no... a dozen dozen customers, all loaded with green stuff. You don't have to deal with this..."

 

Luther took a wild swing through the air, motioning towards the other buyers. 

 

"... rif raff, do ya? I mean, look at em!"

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

The Boss looked at him. For a long, long time, he glared at him, thinking. Pondering, slowly and intently.

He reached out and took the bills, crisply folding them and putting them into his pocket.

 

"....You want to know what Joy tastes like? The happiest memory you've ever had, winning the lottery; the success you never got. What if you'd gotten into your favorite college? What if you'd won that talent show? That's what Joy is, rich man. It's what you wish you had gotten; what all that green failed to get you, despite your best try." he sighed. "So if you want it, that's what you get." he gestured to one of his guards, and they put a golden vial on the table in front of Luther.

 

"The purity? How can you judge purity when this is the only place that makes it? How do you judge if it's perfect when it's the only thing of it's own that exists? Do you ask to grade a Picasso? Do you check the purity of the Sistine Chapel?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Sounds a lot like regret," said Luther, out aloud. He didn't plan to say it out aloud, and yet the words spooled out anyway. He didn't like drug dealers, and this dealer was particularly dislikeable. 

 

But he took the bottle anyway, held it up to his eye, and squinted, studying it for impurities or the such like. 

 

But why do I do this? I am no chemist, no alchemist?

 

Impulse seized his muscles and made them waltz like a puppet on strings. He opened the bottle, and took a sip. The he took a huge gulp. 

 

"To infinity and beyond!" he laughed chaotically as he swallowed the liquid joy. 

 

Luther LeGrasse would never have taken drugs. But he had a ravenous near-mindless psychic parasite with an insatiable appetite that wanted just that thing. And whilst Luther could normally match its will, this was the king of carrots. The god of carrots. And he had to chomp. 

Edited November 11 by Supercape

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

Chug Chug Chug.

 

Quiet.

 

Solitude.

 

Tasty.

 

The Void stirred, rumbled. It digested. The medicine did nothing for Luther.

 

But did it feed The Void all it could want.

 

It was like a cat who had just eaten a delicious meal, curling into a ball quietly somewhere inside Luther's soul and taking a nap.

 

If this was supposed to be addicting, then The Void had protected Luther, because it had taken everything and left Luther with nothing. Luther himself had no idea how it tasted, what it did, how it felt to be filled with Joy. It was simply...a thing; the only thing he felt was The Void not pulsing anymore for now.

 

"...So. How does that 'Regret' feel?" the Boss asked, leaning over his hands as he stared directly into Luther. "Joy or Regret, Happiness or Nostalgia. Where are you sitting, rich guy?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"It..."

 

Luther was uncharacteristically lost for words. 

 

"...It tastes like a... solution..."

 

He said, his brain trying to process the ramifications. No more ravenous Void! He could go back to his normal life, being a top end entertainer and magician! No more need to feed. No more..

 

Well. Wait. What would he do? If he didn't need to feed the Void. A bloated fat Void would not grant Luther the extraordinary power of the void, just as a starving, ravenous Void would demand it. And... could he go back? What about the people he could save? Didn't he have a duty to them?

 

He shook his frowning head. 

 

Was it selfish to want a normal life?

 

Hadn't he done enough? Didn't he deserve a normal life?

 

He shook his head violently now, to try and shake off the ruminations that bounced inside his skull. 

 

"Look, its great. More than I expected. I need this chemical. I need a lot of it. And I'll pay..." he said. 

 

Before a thought struck him. 

 

"But I need to know how you make it. Is it safe? Who suffers?"