He Was a Hotel Detective [IC]

[Quinn]

The memories that came to the fore of Morgan's mind right off the bat weren't...quite ones he wanted to vocalize, when he thought of Tian. Rather personal ones, really. Fortunately, the ones shortly thereafter were far more palatable to an audience. For a moment, he ignored the Happy Fun Ball sitting on the table between them, and the teen broke into a wide, almost childish grin.

"Beautiful, man. Calling it a heaven realm doesn't do it justice. Spirits all over the place, pavilions that scrape the sky, crystal-clear rivers with cherry trees lining the roads, heroes and bad guys from all over the world...heck, from all over the spirit world, and I'm pretty sure a few from other universes wandering around, taking in the sights, brawling on this huge stage in front of thousands, tens of thousands of deceased heroes...it was unreal, Nick. Seriously."

He shook his head; Tian had been a lot to process back then, in hindsight - the same held true here remembering just...everything about that place. Mortal eyes were not meant to look upon places like that.

[trollthumper]

"Sounds pretty good," Nick said. "I haven't gotten much of a chance to pass through the higher realms - though there was that one time I ended up in Valhalla through a back door in Hel. I almost had my head taken off by some guy named Bjorn before I realized what was happening. But I do remember that Valhalla was a lot more... lively. Like you're describing Tian. Operating on a higher frequency than we're meant to perceive in mortal life. I mean, when I go downstairs, everything is slightly muted to some degree or another. Even the pretty good Underworlds, like Duat, have some sort of quality of death about them. You ever see farmland that grows under a sky of eternal night? It's... interesting."

He turned his attention back towards the Eye. "I can think of more than a few Underworlds we could dump this thing into, but I kinda doubt they'd appreciate us dropping toxic waste in their backyard. We could try crafting a pocket of stasis to held tamp down its chaos energies... but if we do it wrong, it'd be like matter making sweet love to antimatter." He thought on it. "Or... we do it Ghostbusters style. The only thing that covers up background radiation is more radiation. Create an isolated pocket of chaos magic, dump the Eye in there to distort the unique signature."

[Quinn]

Crow rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, though he did raise an eyebrow at Nick's comment of his adventures in Valhalla. "Bjorn? Seriously? Not a cool name like...I dunno, Vlad? Or Magnus? Sheesh, dude; you should go back up there and pick a fight with a more badass sounding viking, be a great story to pick up girls with!"

The talk of death realms did make him thoughtful, though; he'd only ever seen a tiny part of the...hellscape? Landscape, that his mother ran. And that was just a snow-covered clearing with dead (mostly) trees. And lots of birds. Big and black ones. That looked at you like lunch.

Yeah, that wasn't a pleasant memory. He shivered slightly. "Ever...visit the Tuatha's realms? Death or otherwise?"

The options as presented made him think, though; his first thought when he'd seen the thing was to simply destroy it, but that didn't seem feasible at the time. Now, though... "Well...I'm not averse to containing it waaaay off from where anyone could grab it, but it hit me that maybe blowing it up would be a good idea. Didn't have the firepower to do it on my own, but...is it doable, Nick?"

[trollthumper]

"I've been to Mag Mell once or twice," Nick said. "Beautiful place, even if it's not really meant for me. Bit foggy, but other than that, full of pastoral splendor. Probably one of the least dark Underworlds I've been to." Between Crow's mention of the Tuatha's realms and his dislike of a "patron of birds," he had an idea of what was going on. He'd never been to the Morrigan's personal demesne, but he'd seen her flying over the hills of Mag Mell once, casting a shadow black as pitch. He decided it'd be best if he didn't mention that. Especially as he had more worrisome things to focus on.

"I'd... rather not destroy that," he said. "Like I said, loaded with chaos magic. You don't want to risk doing something wrong and turning the place into Chernobyl." He paused. "Actually, Chernobyl would look a hell of a lot prettier than that..."

[Quinn]

Morgan's chair squeaked somewhat as he pushed it just an itty-bit further away from the glowing rock on the table. He'd known that stuff was magical dynamite when he shoved it in a pocket; the cold light of logic after that...well, there was a reason he was wanting to get rid of it post-haste. The thought of blowing it up in space was a tempting one, though...

Nah, bad idea. If a real master of woogity says that this kinda woogity would make an area look like Chernobyl? Destroying it is clearly off the cards.

Musing look. "Then the pocket of chaos magic sounds like our best chance; so, how do we pull that off without making it look like a beacon? Chaos likes chaos, stands to reason a lot of evil...well, okay, chaotic woogity would come down wanting to nom on it. And...uh..." He had the courtesy to look somewhat abashed. "...can we set it up with like...magic equivalent of one of those two-key systems? Like you see in the movies? Make sure that one person can't get at the magic bean without bad stuff happening?"

It wasn't that Morgan didn't trust himself...he just didn't trust himself.

[trollthumper]

"Well, given that we're already going to be dumping it into a well of chaos magic," Nick said, "there's already going to be plenty of interference. It'd be like trying to nail down a specific isotope five minutes after a nuke went off. Not that it would make trying to find it impossible, but... well, that's what a fail safe would be for."

He tapped his fingers on the table. "But if we want to include a fail safe that isn't rendered inert by the matter-shifting weirdness of chaos... we may want something more earthly. Maybe set up the Eye in a box of alchemically-enhanced lead to make sure the signal doesn't get out, then include a few vials of universal solvent to break in case of emergency."

[Quinn]

Morgan stroked his chin, leaning back in the chair thoughtfully. This was the reason he'd come here - resources were one thing, but Nick was no dope; and neither was anyone else involved in Parkhurst. Still, a somewhat grim look came over his features.

"This thing's been involved in foul stuff since it was created, Nick; so long as there's a way of destroying it, I'm all in. Though, whoever'd be going after it...what about a way of catching them too? Ten to one whoever's going to be digging for this thing isn't going to be using it for fluffy bunny care - and whoever went after it'd have to know about Parkhurst, or the kinda places we'd stash things."

Moment of thoughtful musing.

"Magic stasis trap, maybe? Explosive runes are a bit cliche, paralysis or just plain sleep runes'd do nicely if it was powerful enough. Rene'd probably manage it in his...well, sleep."

[trollthumper]

"That might work," Nick said, "and Rene certainly knows how to put together an imago. I'd say build a secondary rune designed at wearing away magical protections, in case the thief's warded against paralyzing or slumber spells. Of course, that's gonna require some fine tuning to ensure that it doesn't conflict with the defensive runes, but it can probably be done."

He sat back and stroked his chin. "So we're looking at basically digging a hole to Hell, dropping a steel safe wired with C4 into it, and putting trip wires and guard dogs around the hole in case anyone decides to go diving. I've had weirder weekend projects. Question is, where do we want to drop it? Parkhurst would be a bastion, but it'd also be a hell of a target... and as you said, anyone who knows about this is gonna come loaded for bear. You'd need a place few people would go willingly, something sedate enough to mask the chaos but --"

Nick snapped his fingers. "I know this is going to sound really bad, but... ever thought about going to Mag Mell?"

[Quinn]

Blink.

Reflexive. "No. Not just no but hell no. Once. All of once, and that time it did not end well."

If you could call your father and yourself being chased from the realm being pecked by supernaturally intelligent crows...of course, the cold light of day dawned on the idea, and he resisted the urge to keep kicking at it. It was smart. But could also end very, very badly if they weren't careful.

"Look, I came to Parkhurst 'cos I trust the folks here, savvy? There's a lot of people in the Tuatha who I don't trust; otherwise I might've handed it to them to get rid of. Least of all mo-...the Morrigan. She and I go back. Way back." Aaaaand there it was right there. "But...damn, Mag Mell would be a helluva place to hide it."

He ran his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth. Damn him, but the idea was looking very appealing now. Not only would it be a kick in the teeth to the Tuatha who still thought he was a jumped-up little mortal boy who didn't belong in their world (the latter part he agreed with somewhat, but it still rankled), but it was secure with a capital S against the Fomorians.

And there he was again, letting that arrogance run away with him - dangit, he'd thought he'd gotten over that. The teen shook his head, cramming the sensations back down, and let logic speak slowly. "Sorry, it's...a good idea. Solid one, yeah. But we'd have to be very careful."

[trollthumper]

"Now, it's not foolproof," Nick said. "We'd need the approval of the Tuatha before we bury anything like that in Mag Mell. Most likely Manannan mac Lir. And he'd know whether this would actually work. I mean, Mag Mell's peaceful and sedate, but that doesn't mean all that tranquility will serve as interference for chaos magic..." He paused for a second, thinking on that. "...but the influence of a death god whose pantheon's spent millennia fighting the Fomorians might do the trick."

Nick got up from the table, heading for the scrying room. "Give me a few minutes, and I can probably get a portal open to Mag Mell," he said. "Crow, I'd hate to dig up old memories, but... what exactly happened last time you went there?"

[Quinn]

Morgan shifted uncomfortably, but lifted himself from the chair and followed Nick. He chewed on his bottom lip while walking, cogitating the question in his head and just how much information he was willing to reply with. The teen took a breath.

"It's...kinda personal, Nick." Understatement of the millenium. "The Morrigan and I...a ways back, she thought I had the capacity for powers. Big ones, too. Like one of my ancestors. My dad's bloodline stretched back to Cu Chulainn, see. And given who my dad was..." He hesitated for a moment, then rubbed the back of his head. "Ever heard of Red Hand?"

[trollthumper]

"Yeah," said Nick. Red Hand was a hero based out of Boston who'd been active around the time of Centurion. He'd been given an honorary post on the Freedom League, and claimed a lineage descended from Cuchulainn. And from what Crow said, that wasn't just a claim.

So his dad came from a line of warriors blessed - or cursed, depending on how you view it - with the warp-spasm, he thought, and the Morrigan thought there was promise. That kind of promise. And the offspring... while talented... had to rely on external talents and thaumaturgy. Guessing she wasn't too happy about that.

"Yeah, I see where you're coming from. I'm pretty sure this part of the summer country's untouched by the Morrigan, though. She's usually about the more... visceral death. We should be aiming for one of the islands of tranquility. In theory, at least... but if the Morrigan gives you trouble, well, you've got my back."

[Quinn]

Morgan nodded gratefully - he'd seen Nick in action all of once, but that all of once was enough to make it damn clear; Nick Cimitiere didn't take no guff from gods, demons, spirits, or anything oogity. He respected that. But on the flipside, despite his intense dislike for his mother, he had both emotional and...practical...reasons why he didn't want to risk a throwdown with her. Still, he appreciated the gesture, and it showed.

"Thanks, man. Really, I appreciate it - I wouldn't want to drag any of my comrades from the Irregulars into this one if I could help it; they aren't...quite...as...clued..." The teen trailed off, as one friend in particular suddenly popped into his head. He looked thoughtful. Very thoughtful.

"Uh, Nick...actually, strike that - I think there's someone we both know who could be a real asset on this job." He smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I reckon this'd be right up Etain's alley. And many hands make light work, too. Think we should give Changeling a call?"

[Aoiroo]

Just a few seconds after he said her name, there was a creeking of the stairs that came about whenever someone was walking down. They stopped with footsteps on the landing made by rubber soled shoes, and finally a door opened to show, Etain, dressed in a black blouse, and red skirt with her hair up in a bun and a rose made of of a ribbon the same shade of crimson as the skirt clipped into it. She held a book in a black gloved hand which she closed as she placed a bookmark in the page and said smiling,

"Millie has informed me that Joe heard you requesting my presense."

[trollthumper]

Nick gave a polite wave to Changeling. "Hey, Etain," he said. "We have in our hands something we're really not supposed to..." He held up the Eye of Balor, in the gingerly manner of someone lifting high a plutonium core covered in rotten lettuce. "...and we've got a feeling that the people who lost it aren't going to be happy about it. So, in the name of avoiding a Fomorian wrecking crew showing up, we've decided to foist it off in Mag Mell, under the watch of the Tuatha de Danaan, and hope that the tranquility there helps to keep its innate qualities under wraps for as long as possible." He set the thing back down on the table. "We were wondering if you'd be up for a trip to the Otherworld."

[Quinn]

If Morgan knew of Etain's slight...difficulty, looking at the magic of raw chaos, he'd have given great thanks for that. It meant that she couldn't catch a glimpse of his face when Nick held up the magic bean. Despite his assertions, there was still...something...in the back of his mind that looked at the Eye and saw potential. And raw hunger split his expression for a moment then, before he swapped it with pure shame. He lifted his bandanna to obscure half of his face, and pulled up his hood - costumes would likely be a better call here, now.

His voice was slightly muffled. "Picked it up in Tian, then the training trip happened, and...I'm thinking I bit off a bit more than I could chew, looking after it myself. And given what I've seen you pull off in training, and the podcast..." He shrugged. "Wisp's already gotten neck-deep in trouble in Avalon before, and I reckon Myrmidon and Glowstar are a bit too grounded and heavy-duty for this one. You're subtle, and I'd bet you know fey fairly well; or I'm a leprechaun." He was being remarkably blunt, but it was an educated inference. Though the leprechaun comment made him snerk. "Reckon this'd be right up your alley. You in?"

[Aoiroo]

Etain as soon as she glanced at it put her hands to her eyes and took a step back dropping her book. She kept her eyes closed,

"Would you be so kind as to store that from my sight, I will likely go blind gazing upon it for more of a second, so I understand what you mean."

Keeping her eyes closed she moved through the room by memory and set herself on the couch,

"I am glad you got my link, I hope I did not sound to precautious."

When he mentioned the fey she smiled,

"You most certainly are not, otherwise visiting this realm would likely not be as complicated. But yes, I will assist you, though for my sake and likely those of the realm I would hide away that chaos sphere under a good seal before we leave. Even in a tranquil realm, there will be those who will see and seek its power, dispite the cost."

[trollthumper]

"Oh." Nick tucked the Eye of Balor back under his jacket, kicking himself for nearly exposing Etain to the magical equivalent of a constantly-detonating nuke. "Yeah, it would probably help if we kept this thing in a lockbox. Give me a few minutes..."

One long search through the workshop and a few dozen random items thrown by the wayside later, Nick returned to the dining room, carrying a lead lockbox in his hands - which were now gloved, for obvious reasons. He juggled it in his hands, and the sound of something rattling around within rang through the room. "Alchemically-bolstered lead, so the sympathetic properties keep it from being detected. And pure lead, so no alloys that'd be unfortunate for the fae. You guys need to get your supplies in order, or should we head out now?"

[Quinn]

Morgan hot-footed it up to the stairs, mentally tallying the supplies he'd want to bring. Several knives on hand. He wasn't sure if the teleportation rune would bring the talons cross-dimensions, and he didn't much give a damn about protocol like this. Some runestones, maybe; smoke and flashbang types - he could make those in a hurry. Chalk. LOTS of chalk; chalk powder and sticks - if he had to make some extra magic defenses, he wanted that stuff on hand. He turned his head back with a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, give me a few to collect my kit - got some stuff I've been saving for a return trip there!"

[Aoiroo]

Etain opened her eyes with a sigh and moved to the front den removing her umbrella from the stand before rejoining Nick. She examined the lead box, and was happy to find that it didn't leak out the energies within. That was a worry off her mind for a moment, though she was curious,

"This is all I would like to bring, though would be alright if I bring Custos as well. Perhaps as a form of transportation should we have to go any longer ways. I do not think your car would be appreciated there, and I am almost certain that Crow cannot usually take company when he teleports."

[trollthumper]

"Custos should fit in perfectly," Nick said. "From what I hear, they like anything that has a tendency to rip the heads off of Fomorians. Let's head off to the summer country."

The scrying pool was always crystal clear, allowing one to see all the way down to the marble bottom. It didn't look natural at all - Nick read somewhere that the only time water appeared perfectly clear in nature was when something awful had killed all the microorganisms in it - but then again, it wasn't supposed to be. Trailing his fingers through the surface, Nick called up an image of Mag Mell. The whole thing was pastrol splendor that would make men weep - tiny little villages with sturdy homes and great halls, endless orchards always ripe with fruit, and at the center, a city of stone and earth that towered above all else.

"Hold on tight," Nick said. He chanted under his breath, calling on the tongues of the dead. Normally, this was the ritual he'd use to separate his consciousness from his body and project into the twilight kingdoms. But this time, he wanted to go there in person - and take others along for the ride. He felt the world falling apart around him, and when he opened his eyes, he was standing amongst the splendid fields of Mag Mell, with Crow and Changeling at his side.

"That went much more smoothly," he said. "Better than the last trip to Mictlan, at least."

[Quinn]

Crow shook his head, somewhat disoriented. Dimensional travel always threatened to bring up his lunch. He looked around the fields of Mag Mell, a mix of emotions running through him; this was where his ancestor visited, his dad visited. Now his boots were on the ground proper here - not just as a son being brought to meet family, but as an out-and-out hero. It was strange. He figured he'd be more worried, actually.

But then again, he had a badass wielder of the supernatural with a helluva rep and one of his own teammates who he'd trust with his life covering his back.

Yeah. Let the Tuatha try anything funny. They'd get more than they bargained for.

The teen looked at Nick then with a raised eyebrow - "Mictlan? ...Do I want to know?"

[Aoiroo]

"That's the place the aztecs went when they died. Maybe because they thought life was too easy you went through some nightmarish trials."

It was Custos who responded first as he stretched his wings after being forced down into the (to him at least) cramped basement. Etain walked forward and smiled at the landscape,

"Have you visited?"

"Not allowed, met an escapee one time, wasn't too bad as far as spirits go."

"I will take your word on it."

Turning towards Nick and Morgan she looked around,

"So where are we too? I suppose we should find the highest power of the area to garner permission for our actions and work our way from there. This is quite an undertaking, it should be best that the inhabitants are well aware about what is entailed should they take the seed into the land for safekeeping."

[trollthumper]

"Mictlan? ...Do I want to know?"

"Custos has it," Nick said. "The place is one hell of a trial. Looks like the prototype for Dante's model of Hell. And then you've got the people in charge. Mictlantecuhtli has one of the worst senses of humor I've ever seen, and a real taste for body modification. Man takes out his liver like some men take out their --"

He suddenly remembered that he was in the presence of minors. He cleared his throat. "Well, anyway."

"So where are we too? I suppose we should find the highest power of the area to garner permission for our actions and work our way from there. This is quite an undertaking, it should be best that the inhabitants are well aware about what is entailed should they take the seed into the land for safekeeping."

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. We should probably make our way to the village, look for the closest thing to an authority, and --"

Nick's thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in the grass behind him. Three warriors, their hair tied in braids and colored chalk white, held them at spearpoint. In the few seconds he had before more survival-based thoughts took route, Nick noticed the thick copse of trees behind them, and the ground littered with twigs. They'd chosen to make the noise.

"Or, we can wait for them to come to us." He smiled. "Hey, guys. I, uh, don't speak Gaelic, but --"

"No need," said one of the warriors. He lowered his spear, and gestured to the others - who merely kept theirs on guard instead of at the trio's throats. "Come with us. You carry dangerous cargo, and these plains are risky enough as is. The rigfennid awaits."

[Quinn]

Morgan had nearly vanished completely when the warriors popped up, then a memory from the Parkhurst libraries kicked in. He stood down, but kept one hand in a pocket. Just in case.

Two eyes fixed on the lead warrior, and he nodded in respect. Almost unconsciously, Crow stood taller. Kept his head up. He met their eyes straight-on, not giving an inch. Call it pride, maybe. Regardless, he didn't show a hint of fear at their spears or their warlike demeanor. He spoke to the leader in fluid Gaelic, injecting a solid tone of authority into his voice.

"Bhuel le chéile, Fianna. Beidh muid ag leanúint le do rigfennid, ach ní mar phríosúnaigh nó braighde. Bheinn ag súil dhlíthe na flaithiúlachta a shealbhú fós láidir."

He gave the leader a pointed look, before nodding to the others, ready to travel.

Translation: "Well met, Fianna. We will follow to your rigfennid, but not as prisoners or hostages. I would hope the laws of hospitality still hold strong."