Gallia Renaître (IC)

[Tiffany Korta]

“The current barer of the Spirit of Justice is in this City and she can draw on the memories of the past hosts. Normally we’re just an echo a whisper in the breeze, but you connection with myself, with both of us has allowed me to manifest.â€

She gave a little smile “I did warn you that dealing with the likes of us would entwine you in our fates. She’s returning, it’s too late to stop her…â€

Time seemed to flash forward and Beatrice was in front of his face here mouth forming the name of Gallia’s host, the key to free her from her bondage “Her power has grown over the centuries, she can now control the mind of those whose come from France. As much as I want to I cannot stop her or blunt her power, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help a little.â€

[Tiffany Korta]

Rene was surrounded by a glow, an aura of light that seemed to infuse him. Everyone in the room, to Rene eye, were also surrounded by this aura. Except Beatrice it seemed her fate was had been decided.

“I’ve provided you all with protection against her control, I’ve also leant you a tiny bit of life force, enough to hopefully halt her plans.â€

She gave a smile “I’ve got to go, I wish you luck and if you mean the current bearer of the host be kind, and remember me.â€

Time seemed to shift and thing returned to some kind of normal.

---

“…nne.â€

There wasn’t any perceivable change in the room, no flashes of light, strange sound or the smell of tin. But it was obvious to all that the woman who stood up was no longer Beatrice.

“Hello Rene, it’s been a while.†Her voice had a strange reverb effect as if two voices were talking at once.

[Ari]

The lean Frenchman raised both eyebrows, a futile gesture under his cowl, at their guide's declaration.

"That is quite a coincidence. Pray tell, how-" and then he started back with a cry when the shift was felt. He instantly swept with a swirl of his cape between René and the strange woman bearing Beactrice's face, shoving the chair the old man was seated in several yards backwards with a sharp kick, saying quietly "My friend, please get yourself many paces away. I think I understand now what has happened." he glared at the new arrival with a suspicious look in his eyes.

"You are, I presume, the restless spirit who has driven this poor soul to bring you here? Were you seeking to reunite yourself with an old friend and take some fantastic revenge?" he gripped the razor card in his sleeve, wondering anxiously if he would even be able to delay this foe...

[Supercape]

Rene felt quite faint. He hadn't experienced fear like this for decades or more. All the gripping dread he had experienced as a young man came back like a reflex.

"Take care! Take care!" he said to Marceau, electing to use English rather than French. The last thing he wanted was any further Gallic inspiration for the spirit.

"She is a spirit beyond measure! the incarnate of France! and born from blood and terror!" he gulped, again remembering the violence and horror of the time.

"She can sway a man's heart! stand strong!!!"

[Ari]

"I will, my friend." the King of Suits answered confidently, smiling defiance in the face of Jeanne. Whisking a red and white King of Hearts from his sleeve, the costumed adventurer swung it at the transfigured Beatrice, the card splitting into a massive serpentine corkscrew whirling through the air as it unwound. It was one of the King of Suit's favorite inventions, mostly because it was so utterly unexpected in battle. 'The only downside is how hard it is to treat the steel' he groused to himself, springing lithely away from the possessed woman with a soft clik of his boot heels.

He kept himself close to the woman, not wanting the unsteady painter to become her target if he could help it. "Let my cards give you a hug, madame!" he called over to Jeanne cheerfully "A spirit of blood and terror is a trifle out of fashion, and you need a warm welcome!".

[Tiffany Korta]

Gallia didn’t seem to pay the King of Suit any attention, swatting aside his attack with little effort. Her eyes begun to glow and her face showed pure fury.

“All these years trapped in that little space, I was aware of everything that happened in that prison. You’re little visits over the centuries. But I grew stronger over that time, I can do more than just influence people now.†A glow appeared around her body and she began to float in the air her arms outstretched “I’m going to enjoy keeping you as a mindless slave, your little friend as well.â€

The two of them felt the sharp dark probing of Gallia’s powers, reaching out to try and take control of her mind. But then they felt the warmth of another mind, protecting them both from her baleful influence.

“She foils me even now.†Gallia’s rage quickly faded to a different look “You may be immune but there are many, many people who are not.â€

Below them in the party the music stopped as suddenly a thousand heads suddenly looked up and began moving up towards the room. The few people not effected looked on, unsure what was going one, the natives use to such thing guided people away from the danger,

The most immediate effect was the door flying open and the two soldier leveling there short assault rifles at the two heroes. Behind them they could hear the terrible sounds of hundreds of feet coming up the stairs.

[Supercape]

"Curse you, madame!" said a white-faced Rene, fury bringing him back to life.

"A man's mind is his own! not for any ancient spirit to command. It seems the decades have twisted you still further! well, no matter. I may be old in body now, but I am stronger than ever in spirit!"

He twirled his paintbrush in his hand, a blue-tinged fog spreading out from it, as faint tendrils, then waves, then a tsunami.

"Marceau my friend, my apologies, by these poor men and women must not come to harm. We must have cover of darkness! If they cannot see, they cannot attack us..or each other..."

Although it was not dark, the effect was the same, the fog was so thick one could not see one's own hand. For Rene, he saw better with his mind anyway, the beautiful imagery was not impaired...he could see all...

[Tiffany Korta]

From above them through the obscuring fog came a cackle

“You’re tricks will only delay the inevitable little wizard.â€

The two of them could hear the controlled socialites mulling around the door, waiting for the order to attack. Then there was the sound of weapons being cocked and the soldiers calling out before there weapon clattered throwing bullets into the darkness.

Most of the bullets past harmless by and despite destroying the painting and the fixtures of the room did little harm. But in a fluke of luck a single bullet managed to graze the King of Suits.

[Ari]

Muttering in frustration as his attack was batted clean out of the air by their empowered foe, the King of Suits was searching with rapid fingers for a razor card when the sensation of another mind trying to invade him stopped him cold, eyes wide with horror as he briefly tried to resist...and shook his head vigorously as the feeling was struck down. The calming and gentler sensation that succeeded it was not much more pleasant, but 'It is not a small thing for a friendly soul to intervene, most of the time such attacks are not stopped so quickly!' he reflected ruefully, glancing sharply at the nearby stairs as the ominous sound of the other guests charging for them echoed up!

He had little idea who or what this spirit's beef with René(or indeed him) was, but he guessed that long imprisonment might have had some part. "What is the matter, Jeanne?" he asked mockingly "Do you not trust your own strength-rah!"

Marceau was quite unprepared for the sudden burst of fog from the ancient painter's brush. With a muffled cry of surprise he stepped backwards on reflex, before his mind caught up with his body and reminded who had made the bluish cloud that surrounded him, whereupon he felt very foolish. With a note of strained jocularity he answered his friend "I will do my best, monsieur de Saens! None of those innocents will suffer at my hand, if I can possibly help it! Though that may take some doing!"

He was nearly frozen in place as the sudden blare of gunfire broke upon his ears, and the dull whine of a bullet was just barely enough to let him begin to swing around and take the brunt of it on his shoulder, a last-second realization was what saved him from injury, and gave him the impetus to throw himself wholly around and allow the bullet to strike him right in the chest with a THUD that echoed around the room. Nearly falling over from the impact, he shakily regained his footing and flung a razor card at where he presumed Gallia stood. "Depart, monster! You shall not win this day!" he shouted defiantly at the spirit and her host.

[Tiffany Korta]

From King of Suits view Gallia was just a faint glow moving through the fog, the fog gave her glowing aura a slightly sickly look which seemed appropriate for Gallia.

“If you’re trying to appeal to my human side, poor Jeanne passed on many decades ago. And Beatrice is in no condition to help you, just Gallia.â€

The glow paused it’s floating and a beam of light lanced through the fog, catching the King of Suit in it’s sickly brilliance.

“And don’t worry Rene I’ll get to you in a minute. We’ve got so much to catch up to do.â€

[Supercape]

Rene started getting his fire back, although he was flush with fear too. Gallia had scared him like no other, and now she was back.

But he was older and wiser now.

"I know you well enough to realise that there is little human about you" he replied. "Human's are just pawns to you. Yet without them, you are nothing. Ah! Vile creature. Of all the spirits, of all the undead, the abberrations and beings from beyond that I have met, you are the worst. Because you are born from the human spirit!"

He summoned up his arcane energies, painting them onto the world that to him was as real as that of dreams or imagination. A glistening silver guillotine slid from the ceiling, like a feather made of sharpened steel...

[Tiffany Korta]

Gallia gave a rather unpleasant laugh as the blade harmlessly bounced off her toughened skin.

“Oh Rene you’re such a hopeless romantic. But Madame Guillotine held no fear for me, I had nothing to fear as I was among the unwashed masses. Talking of which…â€

She clicked her fingers and the awaiting guests begun to file into the room, Rene who could see them perfectly could see that rather than empty eyed they seemed to be totally aware, but where being compelled to act on Gallia’s account. It might have been worse than the sight that King of Suit’s could see which was just vague shadows moving towards him as they filed into the room.

[Supercape]

Rene could not move as the horde filled the vicinity.

"Curse you madam! as ever, the people are your slaves! vile despot!"

Try as he might, his frail limbs, old with age, could not move. He was sprightly for his age - he appeared as a man of seventy, and was in good health for a man of that many years, let alone his real years, but he was no longer strong.

"But perhaps I am not a hopeless romantic!" he said slyly.

"I have learned much in the centuries, madame, whilst you have laid stale. Even now, you do not realise the powers I command. Even now, the strands of fate advance...yes, from the very walls behind you!!!" he laughed.

[Ari]

Marceau stared in horror as the spidery figures closed in, limbs waving like a horrible centipede! He almost grabbed for one of his explosive cards before reason prevailed, and Gallia's words clicked into place. 'Foolish of me. Jumping at shadows when the re-' "<Gah! Back with you!>" he barked suddenly, weaving and jumping away as the crowd of French citizens and their friends marched into the cloud, managing to stay just out of their press.

The King of Suits was well-versed in the art of evading people, dashing through crowds to chase down pickpockets required excellent spatial reasoning and timing. He was thus in the clear for just long enough to catch sight of Gallia again. With a muttered snarl, he dashed quietly through the magician's fog and flung another unwinding card through the air, aimed for her with great precision.

[Tiffany Korta]

The card scored a solid hit, but Gallia easily shrugged off the coils of the card.

“Ah these little Superheroes and there little toy’s, thing were simpler in my days. It was all about force or arms and willpower, and maybe just a touch of magic.†At that she gave a manic laugh.

As she spoke she drifted above everyone, every now and again throwing out beams of power randomly lashing out into the room None of the blast’s came anywhere near the two heroes, but also none of them seemed to harm any of the controlled guests despite the beams catching a few of them head on.

[Supercape]

"Will power and magic I have plenty of!" replied Rene, his resolve returning and hardening.

"You don't belong here, madam! Not in this time, not in this country! Freedom is stronger here than it ever was! I defy you!"

"We defy you!"

As he spoke, his eyes shone with a light. He could paint in any direction, forming a tangible reality like a brush stroke. But now, he drew a line straight from him to his adversary, golden beams of light, like lasers, lancing forward at Gallia, strobing and pulsing.

"And I can show you beams of light too!" he added, keen to beat the spirit at her own game.

[Tiffany Korta]

More and more of the guest continued to file into the much smaller room, making it more difficult for the two heroes to moves. Not that that was a problem for Gallia who floated above everything, looking down on everyone. An attitude that seemed to come across when she spoke about anyone. Yet her multiple blast still didn’t seem to hurt any of them and the soldier hadn’t yet fired into the crowd.

“It seems that your fellow country men and woman don’t agree with you Rene. Look how they march to the beat of my drum.â€

[Ari]

The King of Suits ducked and weaved with all his might and skill, but still he found himself hemmed in by a massed crowd of society folk! Struggling futilely in the morass of humanity the King of Suits shouted out angrily "Curse you, Jeanne! We shall be fr-oh!" he yelped as Gallia blasted into the magician's fog, accidentally leaping backwards into a handsome young French gentleman wearing period clothing. Recovering himself he resumed "They only march to your beat because your mind dominates theirs! We'll break the hold you have on them, false spirit!"

He struggled against his bonds, trying to find a way out of the press of bodies. He managed to get his left arm free, and he forced a few of the fellow visitors a bare step back, but that was the best he could do against the weight of his fellow man. Drawing an explosive card from his sleeve, and nearly straining his wrist doing it, he balanced it by one corner on his forefinger and aimed at the murky figure of the glowing madwoman "René! If you know how, tell me how I can draw the crowd from you!" he flung the slim package of explosives straight at Gallia, barking in frustration as it sailed right by her ear to detonate on the far wall before regaining his composure. "You have a chance of beating her, I'm rather less qualified!" he managed a laugh, but he was feeling deeply unsure by now.

[Tiffany Korta]

“Why do insist on using that name? Jeanne is dead she died a long time ago. The only person her is GALLIA.â€

Her beams of light, which had been randomly scattered through the room, now seemed to focus on the area where King of Suit was currently being squeezed in by the crowd. It seems that the newly reborn Gallia was still a sensitive about her name.

Despite the major disadvantage that the King of Suits was under in her anger Gallia aim seemed to be affected and none of the beams found there intended target.

[Supercape]

Pressed in by the crush of people Gallia had poured into the room, Rene could hardly move a muscle. Indeed, he felt he could hardly breathe...

So this is how it ends...Gallia returned..the people chained to her and them, in turn, chaining me...no! no! how can this be? I have fought devils and necromancers of greater strength in the past!

Not for the first time, Rene felt old, but more than old, somehow empty as if a little piece of him was missing...

What was it? Something I lost...my strength, many years ago...what was it????

All he could think of was some waltzy drum beat going round and round in his head. Somehow, this was important. Somehow, in his desperation, he felt what he had lost...coming back...

"You have defeated me then at last!" he told Gallia. "But where is this glory? no marching band? no trumpets sounding the victory! surely the spirit of France can produce a more fitting music to her return and majesty!" he said to her.

"Come, let us have music! let us have a proper event! let us see a proper victory!"

[Tiffany Korta]

Gallia gave another laugh which in other circumstance it could have be described as pleasant.

“Yes, yes you’re right Rene. Where is my sense of occasion? A little music would be a pleasant way to end a perfect day. Let us see what we have…â€

There didn’t seem to be any perception change, but Rene could see one of the controlled crowd lift to her chin the violin she still carried and started playing a tune. Soon the scattered remains of the orchestra began to add there instruments to the sound.

The music was fairly classical, a long forgotten French tune from Rene’s and Gallia’s original tine. But after a short while little discords began to creep into the tune, it wasn’t unpleasant and suggested another more energetic tune trying to get out.

[Tiffany Korta]

Whilst the crowd didn’t move from their places no more of the guest streamed into the almost full room. Instead something strange seemed to happen, they began to sway with the beat. Not the main beat but the strange discord that seemed to be growing in the tune. Gallia seemed shock and a little surprised by what the crowd was doing.

“What… what are doing, stop them stop this at once.â€

Things were just as weird for the King of Suits who couldn’t see much of what was going on the room, instead all he could see with the figure swaying around him. And there was the sounds of the music within the room added to by the crowd who were now starting to hum along with the discord. And the tune had a vitality like it was almost alive, it was there inside his mind he could feel it’s presence. It didn’t feel like it threatening or try to dominate him; no it just wanted him to join in with the tune.

[Ari]

Moving in time with the stately dance of the people crushing around him, Marceau realized that the strange exchange between Gallia and René had had more weight than he'd thought! Bouncing from side to side against the socialites and fuming as he tried to get his balance back, the King of Suits abruptly realized: this was a perfect opportunity! Gallia was distracted, the crowd was busy with something other than opposing them, and the old man had a plan! Now all he had to do was get up to speed. 'What luck!' he thought, planting his left foot and hurling himself at a thin spot in the crowd that surrounded him, only to bounce off of a very solidly-built woman whose swaying arms nearly winded him. Recovering, he gathered himself like coiled steel and dove out of his pen, rolling through the crowd until he had space to leap up and get his bearings.

Spying René he darted through the stately dancing people, finding himself drawn more and more to sway, to glide effortlessly across the floor, to move like the billowing waves...he was half-way through a very awkward dance when he realized what was going on and hastened off for his friend's familiar white hair, grumbling at his sheer inability to dance.

Appearing out of the fog he asked the painter "So! What do we do now, good de Saens?"

[Tiffany Korta]

The discord was still growing within the music, it was by now as much about the discord than it was about the tune Gallia originally set into motion. This seemed to send Gallia into more of a rage; she seemed to sense that something strange and powerful was happening in that room.

Nothing was holding her in the room, apart from her desire for revenge, and she could have fled. But instead she rained more of her blast of light down into the room, actually managing to come close to the gathered heroes.

[Supercape]

Rene barely registered now...

"Marceau...I don't quite now...something is coming back to me...something I lost...." he mumbled.

A door opened, and a man appeared through it, swaying to the music like he owned it. He was a little on the short side, a little on the rotund side, with black skin and grey hair, flashing a broad grin on a lively face. He was wearing a colourful, loose fitting suit with a bone white bow tie and hat. In his hands he had a bongo drum.

Without much pause, he sat down to start beating out a rhythm. He didn't exactly sing, but he had a sing song voice.

"" he said in French, with a slightly pidgin style. "" he laughed.

"" he said, as he started drumming up a healthy and dramatic rythmn...

"Henri Zenon!" said Rene in surprise, as much to himself as to Marceau. "He...he was a musician, back in the 20s...I knew him then....and then...then...he dissappeared...."

He frowned, trying to remember.

""

The jigsaw was not complete, but some pieces had fallen into place in his hour of need. Henri was bound to him. There was some strength he had left behind in those dark days. Not a pleasant strength, but it was there even so...

"Henri! for the love of liberty! free these people!"