Anastasia Dankov

[Wired*Nun]

There are no seats, but there are handles. She doesn't feel anything as she flexes her hand.

After what she estimates is a couple of miles of traveling in the dark, they pull to a stop at another station. There is no one to be seen in the dim light of the platform, and there is only one way out - other than down the tracks - through a set of double glass doors, the kind in the fronts of grocery markets or super-stores.

The two men step out carefully, then look around before approaching the doors. Ramdin gets out the keys again, holding them out before him like a talisman.

"Through the doors," he says resignedly.

Thaniel squares his shoulder and spreads his hands, and leads the way through.

They find a short hallway with an intricately carved door, Masonic symbols and designs inscribed upon its dark wood surface. Without ceremony, Thaniel throws open the door.

They find themselves standing in a gallery overlooking what seems to be a library. It runs all the way around a room the size of a basketball gymnasium.

The two men walk up to the rail to look out over the stacks and the shelves, tables and chairs.

[Darqueone]

"Ok, so... we're on the set of "National Treasure"?" Anna whispers as she follows them and looks out over the library. "Guess it was a little naive to expect to find Tony in a cell tied safely to a chair. What now?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I heard about that movie." Musingly. "Must have been a leak somewhere."

Thaniel makes a presenter's motion, palm up and out, toward the library floor. Anthony is sitting comfortably in a padded chair, reading one of the books stacked and strewn on the table in front of him.

[Darqueone]

Anna blinks as her escorts part and let her see clearly. "Tony!" she calls, and starts down towards him.

[Wired*Nun]

Anthony looks up and smiles. "Anna!"

He stands up and moves toward the stairway, beaming. They meet at the bottom, and he moves to embrace her.

[Darqueone]

Anna hugs him, careful not to put her hands on him. "Come on, we can get you out of here...."

[Wired*Nun]

"Get me out? Why..." His face touches hers, and he sags in her arms, and gasps. His weight almost drags her down, but the motion disconnects their skin contact and he remains standing, shaky-legged.

"What in...what was that?" He looks at her in astonishment.

[Darqueone]

"Oh crap, ok, I guess it's exposed skin..." she mutters to herself. "I'll explain that later, ok? Look, this is Mr. Thaniel and Mr...." she works to remember Ramadan? No..."Mr. Ramdin. Let's go, ok? The police think you've been kidnapped."

Something does begin to filter in about the situation, a certain lack of "Help help, get me out of here, save me from the evil clutches of the bad guys".

"Look, I need you to help me. Brain tumor, remember? Weird sh...stuff has been happening and I need you, ok? Let's go?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Anna...I'm not being held against my will...aren't you all right? They...you're..." He looks confused again. "The doctor told me you were being looked after, so I decided I might as well follow up on my research, and..."

Thaniel walks down the stair to stand beside her. She senses he's suppressing a bit of self-satisfaction.

"It's all right, Anastasia. He's unharmed, but the Narcissists have affected his mind and sense of time. We thought it best to keep him here until you two could be reunited in private."

[Darqueone]

Anna spins, then stops and stares at Thaniel. Then, very slowly and deliberately asks "What?" as she starts a slow burn.

[Wired*Nun]

"I'm not surprised you are upset, and I apologize for deceiving you...but it was necessary."

Ramdin shrugs from behind Thaniel, flashing her a white-teethed, apologetic grin.

[Darqueone]

"Horseshit." she says flatly. "Tony, do you want to come with me?"

[Wired*Nun]

"He's not ready," Thaniel says flatly. "Oh, I'm not going to stop you, if you want to take him. But unless you want to stay with him all the time, and explain to the Monsignor why he can't resume his duties, and fend off the inquiries of the police, and expose yourself to the tender mercies of the next Narcissist or Darksider you happen to run across...you might want to delay any hasty and emotional decisions."

[Darqueone]

Anna turns her head to glare at Thaniel. "I wasn't talking to you." her voice low and warning. Then she looks back at Tony, gentling. "It's up to you. He lied to me and I don't trust him. The other guy I don't know, but they know each other. They hid you from me; but that might have kept you safe. It's up to you, either way." she tries to keep her anger from her voice, but her big brother knows how she feels, and to whom.

[Wired*Nun]

Anthony looks at her with childlike pleasure. "I...I'm fine here. I got to read...lots of things. They're good people. I have a room...but if you want to go, we can go. What do you think?"

As he speaks, Thaniel walks off a few steps, taking a book off a shelf and looking at it idly with his back to the two. Ramdin catches on a moment later and walks over to take a seat on a chair, putting his chin on his fist.

[Darqueone]

Anna frowns, looking at Tony. "It's ok. It's your choice." As she speaks she watches him, concerned that the tampering with his head hasn't stopped.

[Wired*Nun]

Anthony seems paralyzed by having to make this decision. He looks as if he's going to burst into tears from stress. "I...I don't know. Don't make me decide, please, sissy."

[Darqueone]

"Shhh... s'ok, Tony. You go ahead and sit down and read your book." She says gently. Then she turns to Thaniel. "Ok, now I'm talking to you. What's wrong with him?"

[Wired*Nun]

Anthony smiles. "Okay. Thanks." He goes back to his seat, humming.

Thaniel returns the tome to the shelf, then turns back to her.

"As I stated...Orabono did to him more or less what he did to you. Only with you, he was trying to mold you into a loyal and loving slave, while Anthony's condition is the result of hasty psychic surgery. He probably didn't want both of you disappearing so close to each other, and I suspect he hoped Anthony would simply go back to his life and cause no more trouble - at least for long enough for things to die down."

[Darqueone]

"How do we fix him?"

[Wired*Nun]

Thaniel stares at her for a moment, as if nonplussed.

"Psychology isn't my specialty. But I do know a good Nephil psychiatrist, which is a rare plum indeed. And she lives and works in Baltimore. She's apolitical, and trustworthy. And the fact that you yourself have more or less thrown off the effects - probably due to your being no longer mortal - is a good sign that he will eventually recover."

[Darqueone]

"When do we see her?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmmph. I can arrange to see her today, if her schedule permits. Since she is also a healer, I suspect she is rather busy with mitigating the night's violence...the critically injured, that sort of thing." This last he speaks in a rather droll tone. She suspect's it's a veiled indictment of her singleminded focus on Tony, in comparison to combat casualties.

[Darqueone]

"I'll wait." and she stops moving and talking, watching Thaniel, expecting him to contact this person now and arrange things. Her anger is banked, kept warm.

[Wired*Nun]

"All right, all right," he agrees in a forcedly light tone. He takes out his cell phone, runs down the list of speed dials and pushes the button.

"Doctor Spann. Yes, it's Muertin. I know. I know. I have one of the Orabono victims here. No, just mental. No, not really...but I'd consider it a favor if you worked him in as soon as you could."

A pause.

"Very well. Tomorrow at noon. See you then."

He flips the phone shut, and slides it into his pocket.

"She's giving up her lunch for him." That stare again. "That's a joke. She's actually working 'round the clock."

[Darqueone]

No, just mental... great.

Anna wants to rail at him, but takes a deep breath and works on her rage. Hey... Tony's in one piece. He's ok. There's a doctor out there that might be able to help him. Tony's... happy. I guess. Take it easy. 24 hours or so isn't bad.

"Ok. Thank you." tight-jawed, she looks around. "So I guess you want us to stay there? This will be 'safe'?" she doesn't bother to try to hide the quotes; you don't lie someone into a Safe place.

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmmph. You're welcome. You may stay here, you may stay at my residence, you may stay at some overpriced chain hotel in Crystal City. You may stay with Ramdin. I'm only advising you." At this, the young man looks surprised, then smiles again sheepishly.

"And thus spat upon, I take my leave of you. I have much pressing business. Feel free to wallow in your anger and self-pity. Do come see me when you've decided to be decent."

Thaniel flips up his hood and stalks off through the library, in the direction of what must be its main entrance some distance away.

[Darqueone]

Anna lets him go this time, still fuming quietly. She turns this on poor Ramdin. "Are you going to take us to this doctor, or do I need to go get him?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ummm...I don't know. I guess I'm your minder now." He smiles weakly. "It's a her. She's a woman, I mean. The doctor. And the appointment is for tomorrow. You want to try to see her now?"

[Darqueone]

"Absolutely, but ... I'd understand if we can't." grudgingly, with a look at Tony, then back to Ramdin. "It's not like he's bleeding or in pain. It's not critical, just urgent and important." she smiles grimly; well, at least her teeth are showing.

"So if you know who this doc is and where to find her, would we need him for any other reason? That subway isn't going to wait... and crap, he's got my stuff in his trunk."

[Wired*Nun]

He replies in that attractive British Hindi singsong. "Oh...well the subway isn't a problem. Don't worry about Muertin. He's a bit touchy sometimes. Rather like you." He grins impishly. "He does like you, though. He's usually even touchier. I doubt he'll go far. Just stroke him a bit, tell him how much you appreciate...whatever. Something. Throw him a bone. I think he's trying."

[Darqueone]

Anna can't help but roll her eyes at the comparison.

"Fine, but just in case... can you get us to this doc? I can go without my stuff if I have to."

Then she growls quietly and drops herself in a chair. "So... what's your deal?" It would almost be friendly if she weren't pissed off; but, like the man said... I think she's trying.

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course. Everyone knows Doctor Spann. She's...kind of an institution here."

"Me?" He looks around, as if astonished. "I'm...what. You mean like what's my Gift? I'm clairvoyant. I can hold things and see things about the owners. Oh, sorry, here." He slides Tony's keys across the table to her. "Sorry for the charade. But I really can do it. It's not the greatest of Gifts, but...we help each other. Teamwork, and all that."

[Darqueone]

Anna snorts and takes the keys with little good grace. "Right. And hell, if you have to lie a little to a distraught woman, what the hell."

She shakes her head. "Ok. Fine. I guess we're here till tomorrow, then. What time is it? Do you have supplies here? Rest areas? Bathrooms? What's the plan?"

[Wired*Nun]

He has the decency to look uncomfortable, but bridles. "Look...you've never lied to anyone? For their own good? Your religion says 'let he who has never sinned, cast the first stone.' So give it a rest, will you? We're not Narcs. They don't even let you nag them about little things like lying. They just - " he makes a shooting motion. "Pow. Or worse."


What time is it? Do you have supplies here? Rest areas? Bathrooms? What's the plan?"


"Looks like it's about eleven-thirty. Lunchtime. What kind of supplies? This is a library, we have office supplies. There's a small kitchen, lavatories over there...Why don't we go get some lunch? Peace?" he holds out his hand, then snatches it back.

"Uhh...oops."

[Darqueone]

"I've never told anyone that someone they loved was dead." and she leaves it at that.

Anna wasn't about to take his hand instantly, so he has time to snatch it back. "Yeah. I'm thinking of dyeing a white streak in my hair and working on a Southern accent."

She sighs, then takes a deep breath. "Ok. I'll try. Peace. Let's get some lunch ready." She glances at Tony, happily buried in his books. "I'll bring it to him."

As they make their way to the kitchen, she asks "Ok, so... larger plan. We wait here, tomorrow we see this doctor, and then... what?"

[Wired*Nun]

He looks puzzled at the "dead" comment.

Yeah. I'm thinking of dyeing a white streak in my hair and working on a Southern accent."


"Ha. Rogue. But there are a number of Gifts, including mine, that need skin contact, so you're hardly unique in that. Besides, you should be able to turn it off or damp it down, with practice."


"Ok. I'll try. Peace. Let's get some lunch ready." She glances at Tony, happily buried in his books. "I'll bring it to him."
As they make their way to the kitchen, she asks "Ok, so... larger plan. We wait here, tomorrow we see this doctor, and then... what?"


"We could bring him along, but that would put two missing persons together and double the chance of getting noticed. We can bring him take-out." He steers her away from the kitchen toward the main entrance, which turns out to be a bank of three elevators. He chooses the leftmost one.

Inside, he punches in a combination, not taking care to hide it from her. The elevator rises for about twenty seconds, then stops smoothly. It debouches into a small anteroom with one door, which in turn exits onto a side-street near Constitution, She sees the top of the Monument in the middle distance, a mile away or more.

Ramdin shuts the nondescript steel door and starts walking down the sidewalk away from Constitution. She sees the door is set in a large building with some carvings and markings along the top, some sort of heroic bas-reliefs. She notes the location and street intersections as they walk.

"As for the 'larger plan,' that's up to you. We cooperate, but we're big on free will. Of course, there's debt and obligation as well. Sorry, that's not very clear...but we are something of a secret society, after all. You have the membership card because you're a Youngling and Muertin has taken you as his protege...but you need to know, that were you to do something foolish, such as advertising the location of our facilities...there would have to be a reaction." He says this soberly, not as a threat but in the nature of good advice.

"So I suppose you are expected to become part of us. Should you choose not to do so, you would be expected to hold those secrets you do possess. If you do choose to leave...some other organization would find you eventually, and offer - or demand - your participation."

[Darqueone]

"I thought you said there was a kitchen...?" As they leave the bunker.

"Yeah; no one's really allowed to be nuetral, or just left alone. At least that's what Thaniel said. I don't blame you guys for hiding; I don't have any clear objective idea of what's going on or who the players are, but apparently I have to choose sides now or get eaten alive." she shrugs "Great."

"Not really any choices, since you people have Tony. Even if he gets... back to normal, I've got no way of knowing what was done to him, or how he might react in the future, or if other problems will come up in a few years."

"I'm not committing fully to anything. I get Tony back to normal, and sort out the problems with the police so he can go back to his life and so I can walk around without looking over my shoulder - for the cops or the Orabono's - then I might be in a better place to make a decision."

"Till then... I'll do what I have to. Sorry. Nothing personal."

[Wired*Nun]

"I thought you said there was a kitchen...?" As they leave the bunker.

"Yes, if you like Lean Cuisine that's been in the freezer for ages. Let's take a walk."

Till then... I'll do what I have to. Sorry. Nothing personal."

"Of course not. We try to take the longer view. You can be neutral, but it has to be an armed neutrality, much like the real world. In fact, we're close to that. We pursue knowledge, often for its own sake. We try to stay out of the Narc-Truist conflicts - your rescue was a bit unusual, and Muertin is going to have to answer to his superiors for that, since he did it on his own."

"You don't really have to choose sides - you just have to not cause too much trouble until you do decide. There are many bad alternatives; waiting and cooperating is not one of them. You need to learn and find your feet."

"And we don't 'have' Tony," he says with some annoyance. "You can take him and bring him to your own therapist if you like. We didn't make him that way. Stop trying to make us the bad guys here. I'm sorry about what happened to him, but take your anger out on the Narcs, not on us."

They cross Pennsylvania and go around a corner onto another side-street. There's a small Italian restaurant there, serving a lunch buffet. "We've been picking up Italian for your brother every day. He's something of a lasagne fiend."

They get a table outdoors. They have a cover and pavilion siding, with radiant heaters, so it's pleasant - and necessary, as there are only four tables inside, and they are full. After giving the waiter their drink orders, they load their plates with deepdish pizza, salad, pasta and vegetables.

After the first piece of pizza, Ramdin slows down. "So, you must have a lot of questions. Here's your chance to get them answered, as best I may."

[Darqueone]

"Thaniel has superiors? Who, Methuselah?" she doesn't comment further unless Ramdin remarks on Tony's Italian fixation.

She chuckles "Yeah. Mom used to say that naming him Anthony must have made him Italian instead of mostly Russian."

After they serve themselves, she eats quietly and thinks. "What's the power thing my skin does? You said I could tame it down... can I amp it up?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't know what you do. I've never touched you. I'm willing to experiment, later, more privately. But most Gifts can be controlled with practice, including increasing or decreasing sensitivity or strength. Some can't, but most can. For example, Dr. Spann is a healer as well as a psychiatrist. She can apply healing energies to injuries - quickly, slowly, locally or generally. One of the Narcs that held you can channel electricity, sending it where she will and in strength from negligible, up to the capacity of the source."

[Darqueone]

Anna's expression sours. "Yeah, I remember her. Fancy? Fanny." she nods "I remember thinking that calling her 'ass' was appropriate."

"Ok. So that's a big 'dunno, maybe'. What's the deal with the Orabono people?"

[Wired*Nun]

He chuckles. "Yes, she's not what you would call 'reasonable.' She fancies herself an Eldest...one of the first Nephilim, that have been around since the beginning...but I'm sure she's lying. Power doesn't prove anything, really. Besides, if she was, she wouldn't be serving Justin Orabono, who really is at least an Elder. As for what's the deal? What's the deal with anyone who wants power to dominate and is willing to do anything to get it? Why do we have organized crime, or corrupt Senators? He's a crime boss, always has been. That's what he likes - using, intimidating, owning people. But he may have made a mistake, this time."

[Darqueone]

Anna forks up some pasta and nods "I heard about that. What happened over the last few days?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, I'm not privy to the inner circle...but it appears the Orabonos - they are or were the controlling Narcissist power in Baltimore - tried to eradicate the Stronghold of the Altruists by overwhelming force. They appear to have succeeded, but the reports are mixed. They may have taken so many casualties that they can't consolidate. Baltimore emergency responders and hospitals report injuries and deaths in the dozens to hundreds. There were fires and riots as well, possibly started as diversions but rapidly overwhelming the services. County and State service have been mobilized as well, and there is a Maryland National Guard recall underway. Some of it is on the news, of course. Your Doctor Spann is undoubtably elbow-deep in blood...metaphorically, at least. We won't know the important results for a few days...how many Nephs were Finaled or Iced, how the political landscape has changed..."

[Darqueone]

Anna shakes her head. "Great." and then "My Dr. Spann?"

Anna is quiet for a long moment, and eats slowly, thinking hard. "I think I know what I want to do after Tony's... better."

"Not sure how I'm going to do it, but ... it's an idea."

Then she looks up and asks another question "How do you all, you know. Recognize each other? Thaniel said he heard me Ringing, but other stuff he said didn't happen. How does it work for you?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, she's not ours!" He hoists his soft drink in her direction in a mock toast.

How does it work for you?"

"Oh, would that it were like Highlander! But unfortunately, there is no standard way to tell. Some of the fortunate among us have Gifts which grant other perceptions, and can recognize Nephilim without difficulty. I can tell if I can touch an associated object. But barring something like that...there's no particular way."

"I think I know what I want to do after Tony's... better. Not sure how I'm going to do it, but ... it's an idea."

"I see. No, I don't. But since you mentioned it, may I ask, what the idea is?"

[Darqueone]

Anna shrugs. "Still thinking it through." She evades, taking a drink of her iced tea.

"What about all that "come back from the dead" stuff Thaniel talked about?"

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin cocks an eyebrow at her. "Yes. As long as you don't sustain too much damage, you can die and come back. Your Neph soul will regenerate your body. Within some limits, you are virtually immortal."

[Darqueone]

Anna toys with a pizza crust, pushing her salad around. "He said I died. Typical tunnel-of-white-light stuff. But I didn't."

[Wired*Nun]

"How do you know?"

[Darqueone]

"Ok, point. I thought about that. But if you have a near-death experience, or if you die and get sent back, what's the point if you can't remember it?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, in our case...that's the point of Conversion from the pre-Neph state to Nephilim. The theory goes that the Neph soul must undergo that transformative experience for Gifts to be activated."

"Not all Conversions seem to be remembered. Many are; especially those that are nonviolent or peacefully induced. Many times, Ringers are educated before the experience, and undertake it voluntarily. Other times, they die so violently they do not Convert. Your experience is somewhere in the middle. Perhaps you did not experience anything; perhaps you experienced something but do not remember it, due to your brain surgery or the manipulation of your psyche."

[Darqueone]

"How do we know it wasn't... what would you call it? Tainted? By the bad guys you have?"

[Wired*Nun]

"We don't. It might be wise for you to see Dr. Spann, later, when things have calmed down some. She can dig around in your head a bit..."

[Darqueone]

Anna gives him a skeptical look. "Can't wait."

She sighs, pushes the food away slightly, then sinks into thought.

I don't trust any of these guys. I don't have any untainted sources of information that are direct; hints and stuff in books, maybe, if I can sort them from the rest of the info.

There -is- something going on with-or-in me. I don't believe in what Thaniel described; angel/mortal mongrel-men. I was sick, something happened to that illness, and now I have a shock-touch (or something) and apparently I can speak different languages.

And I'm not safe.

Neither is my family.

I have to go underground. Somehow. Get away from these guys and figure out what's going on by myself. Hell. If he wasn't misleading me, Thaniel said I was functionally immortal. That should give me time to sort myself out.

Anna looks up, and around at the area. Then she squints slightly, seeing a building that brings a thought... and then a second thought. "Is that the... wait..." she looks back in the direction they came from "...did we come out of the Library of Congress??" in a tone that suggests scandal.

[Wired*Nun]

"You gotta." He grins back. He obviously likes to put on the Americanisms.

...


"...did we come out of the Library of Congress??"


"One of the annexes, yes. The main building is back behind the Capitol. Don't look so scandalized. You don't think mortals run the US Government, do you?"

[Darqueone]

Anna rolls her eyes. "If you tell me the president is an angel/mortal mix, I will laugh at you and I won't be sorry."

"Ok, well... do I need you to escort me in and out of 'HQ'?" she pushes her plate away. "Do I get my own decoder ring for entry, or what?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, we're not so high-profile. To be the powers behind the throne is much, much better."

"And, yes, I do have to let you in, and someone will escort you. Respect may be given, but trust can only be earned." He tosses some bills on the table, and puts his coat back on, helping her with hers.

"But you can always leave. Those were Muertin's instructions..." He looks a bit aggrieved, if that is the word, for a moment. "That's an extraordinary privilege, for someone not initiated."

[Darqueone]

"If you want, you can teach me the secret handshake and I'll wear a blindfold while you put my hand in warm spaghetti or something." Anna shrugs her coat on. "Listen, I think I do need to go get a pair of isotoners or something like that, before we go back."

Interesting. Next 24-48 hours, I get only their info, only their influence. Can't recon much on my own. Fine. Let's see how that goes.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, if I did that you'd have to participate in the group sex rites, too. You sure you're ready for that?" He laughs.

"We can detour to the Hotel Monaco (http://www.monaco-dc.com/), it's only a couple of blocks. I'm sure they have something at the gift shop."

They set out at a brisk walk, and Anna feels a spring in her step that belies her unsettled mood. Something about a brisk sunny day, the clean, fresh air, puffy clouds...

[Darqueone]

Anna just gives him a scathing, measuring look at his question, and then walks with him to the gift shop, feeling gradually better and better as the climate and enviroment reminds her of how life can be... when it's not crazy.

"So... what's you're story? You wake up one day in the hospital knowing your nurse has 4 cats and wants chinese for lunch?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ha. Nothing like that. Mine is a sad, sad tale of woe. But you asked." He smiles broadly, levying irony into the tale.

"I was actually born a Parjanya, an untouchable, in New Delhi, in 1923. My family are tanners - of the skins of animals, that is. When you look up 'dirt-poor' in the Oxford, you see a picture of my family, ha ha. When I was nineteen, some robbers broke into our shop - which was also our home - to steal what little we had. I picked up a scraping knife and made believe I could defend myself. I remember one of them putting a blade into my belly."

"I awoke to find myself under a stinking pile of the bodies of criminals and vagrants and others too poor for a decent cremation or burial. They would be dumped near the rubbish pile outside the city, you see, with diesel poured over them, then set alight."

"I was convinced there had been a mistake, though I could not explain why there was no more wound in my belly. I stumbled away and walked to the shop of my parents. They drove me away with a beating, labeling me a Yogni, a ghoul, taken the form of their son. I wandered the streets, begging, enduring many beatings."

"Finally I stumbled into a recruiting station for the British Army. They were desirous of soldiers to oppose the Japanese in Burma and other places, and were not terribly fussy about the caste or origin of the recruit, so long as he was healthy and willing. So, in this way, I acquired a job, and papers, and status of a sort."

"After killing many Japanese on the field of battle, and lifting many more shovelsful of dirt in the menial labor reserved for the wogs, the war ended and the British Army gave me a train ticket and a discharge. Still, I was a damn sight better off than when I started. I had learned to read and write, had determined through three fatal wounds that I was unkillable, and was convinced I was blessed of the gods. I also had this other power, to see or know things about people from the resonances in the objects."

"I worked passage on a tramp steamer to get to England, then stayed illegally. I bought documents, acquired a university education, never really knowing what I wanted to do or what my purpose was. I became a barrister, and did readings for my friends on the side, kind of a parlor trick. I lived in a strange world, where I was special but did nothing special. I suppose I simply aimed too low...just having a place to live and food on the table and money in my pocket remained heaven for a boy who often had one meal in the day."

"One day a woman inquired of my abilities. She then seduced me and eventually told me of the world of the Nephilim. And...well, here I am."

[Darqueone]

Anna listens, almost interupting early but then realizing the young man is older by far than he seems. Seems like -everyone- of these people is 100 years +.

Towards the end of his story she recognizes some of her own goals. "I don't think there's anything wrong with aiming to take care of yourself and family, friends, whatever.

I guess someone raised with the belief in ghouls and such could buy into the whole angel/mortal mongrel things. He's educated, but basic beliefs don't change easily. She smiles to herself. S'why I'm having trouble buying all this.

"Well... sounds like you've done yourself proud. A lawyer, and all, from the untouchable caste. And you've done a lot in between. And since, I bet."

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, that is a worthy goal, to help one's family. I sent money to them anonymously for many years, then went back in the early 70s. My father had died, but my mother was still there. I told them I was a cousin from Mumbai. I'm not sure she believed me, but at least she didn't send me away." His face has turned sad for a moment.

"But my brothers and sisters and their families all have good businesses now, and are as prosperous as anyone of my caste can be. Things are changing slowly in India...perhaps one day caste will not matter so much, and a man can make of himself what he will."

"Yes, I have done many things. I'm not sure how much good I've done..." he looks pensive. "Sometime's it's hard to keep that fire in your belly for a cause..."

They reach the Monaco, heading past the smiling doorman, looking for the gift shop.

[Darqueone]

"Remind me to give you a pat on the back when I have gloves." she grins "You did good."

When they find the shop, she looks around quickly for a pair of gloves that will work for many occasions, leaving Ramdin holding the take-out for Tony. She finds a pair of thin black gloves that are ok, and pays for them, then rejoins Ramdin.

"Ok, let's get Tony his food before it's stone-cold and then... I don't know, what do you guys do for fun?" she pauses and thinks about the rooms under the Library of Congress "Or when you're bored?"

[Wired*Nun]

He flashes that white, white smile again. "Thanks," he says modestly. "I'm sure you'll do fine, too."

He waits for her to get her gloves, then escorts her back down the sidewalks toward the annex.

"I'm kept quite busy doing research. I've actually earned a Master's in Anthropology, then did a doctorate in Archaeology, just to get access to ancient artifacts. I'm a fellow at Georgetown. There is still a lot to be gained, even from the oldest of things, if they weren't contaminated too much. The most frustrating thing is sometimes knowing things but having to laboriously search for supporting evidence to provide a cover for how I've found out. My colleagues think I'm brilliant...but I'm really just lucky to have this Gift."

She gets the impression he's still embarrassed about the whole thing, his status and fortune, and hasn't every really come to terms with it, or feel he's earned it.

"So, I'm far from bored, ever. Doing this with you is a nice change, no offense to you, but it's not my work."

[Darqueone]

"Oh, fair enough. It's not mine either. What interesting things have you found out about ancient artifcts?" Anna asks politely, keeping the conversation going until they get back to Tony.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, this and that. I've uncovered fakes, or linked previously unrelated items into more coherent wholes. But what you see published in Geographic is often just fallout. Most of my work is clandestine, sort of, and has to do with Nephilim origins. It's much more reliable my way, than to trust the word of those who claim to have been there. Even if they were, they don't always recall correctly, and of course they slant the truth."

"And as for you...what is your work, as you see it? I'm sorry, I don't know much about you, really, and I've been so entranced by a pretty face that I've done all the talking. Please, tell me something."

[Darqueone]

Anna rolls her eyes again at the compliment and does something between a snort and a chuckle. "Retail monotony. I'm not very interesting. Thaniel used to come into my shop every couple months, s'how I knew him."

She chuckles. "Sorry, that's it. I haven't had 100 years to do interesting things in."

[Wired*Nun]

"Hey, I'm only eighty...something. Four? But now you have the next hundred to plan for. So let's do the old thought experiment. If you had all the money and all the time you needed, what would you do?"

[Darqueone]

Anna laughs. "Live large! I'd get a cool sports car, a mansion... not a McMansion that's nice to look at but something that's really nice. I'd finish my degree. I'd think about going for more education. I'd pay off all my bills, of course, and set money aside to take care of my folks. I'd invest in my brother's business.

"My name is Elmer J Fudd, millionaire; I own a mansion and a yacht." she chuckles.

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, that's all in your reach now. Just depends on what you want. Our association is wealthy. We'd pay you very well to work on ancient texts and so on...that's assuming your Gift works on the written word....but even if you went outside, you could easily get 200K a year or more at the UN or State, through L3-Titan or one of the other contractors, as the best interpreter they ever had. Work for world peace and make money at the same time. Or, you could set up a consultancy. Give it ten years, you'll be a millionaire and be working on all that."

[Darqueone]

Anna stops, staring at him. Then she continues following, extremely thoughtful. "Yeah?" she probes further.

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin cocks an eyebrow. "Yeah, what? You want a specific offer? Not my area."

[Darqueone]

"No, I mean... That sounds too good to be true. The part about just getting a job with your people and working like that. Going to the UN or something, there'd be interviews and resume stuff; I don't have any language background in my records except 2 years of high school Spanish. Suddenly I'm a polyglot."

"Hmph." Anna walks, thinking. "Well. Like you said, consulting. If the red tape is too much." She shrugs it off. "Still something to keep in mind." Visions of dollar signs dance in her head.

[Wired*Nun]

That smile again. "Identities can be altered, records created, degrees granted. You might be surprised how much people are willing to overlook if you're competent. We simply set up a subcontractor to L3 under disabled-veteran or minority-owned cover, certify your qualifications to the primary, get you working off-site at State or the UN...it all gets lost in the shuffle. Believe me."

"Or, if you want to go the long route, we can sponsor you for a scholarship, you can work your way through faking 'learning' a bunch of languages - you would actually be learning all the ancillary parts like culture, history and literature, after all - for the majors. Add a master's and doctorate in Linguistics to it...you might even be able to do it all online. Then it's legitimate, all above the board. And, it would still be a lot of learning."

"Or, as I said, the really easy way. You work for us. Immediate pay, status, information, guidance...you give up some independence, but you get a lot of benefits. Protection, a network of support, insight into things lots of people would give their left...arm for."

[Darqueone]

Yeah... if I want to stay and even get MORE involved with people that mislead me from the get-go.

She nods, though, accpeting his explaination.

Set up a translation service on the internet, paypal and hotmail or something with a free web-hosting service. I've got maybe $600 in the bank; closer to $500 by now. Don't think I can go back to EuroTrash. And I can't leave here until Tony's better. Well. Deal with that later, since I can't do anything about it now.

I'm scared about being on my own, but more scared about trusting crazy people.

[Wired*Nun]

They arrive back at the nondescript industrial door on the side of the big building. The short hallway, the keypad - hidden from her view, this time - and the elevator reverse the process they used before. The whole setup reminds her a bit of Men In Black...without the bored guard or the big rotating fan.

[Darqueone]

She smiles mirthlessly as the keypad is hidden. Right. Free to leave... not free to come and go. Gotcha.

Anna takes the lasagne and the rest to Tony first thing, sitting down with him as he eats and asking him how he feels, how he's been.

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin leaves her to sit with her brother, diappearing for a time somewhere in the large room, then later sitting down visible but distant, with a book in his lap.

"Oh, I'm fine!" Tony talks animatedly about his researches - connectings among purported secret societies, how the Bavarian Illuminati influenced the elections of 1928 to ensure an adminsitration prepared to deal with Hitler would come to power...it's as if that one part of his personality is going full blast, without any controls or self-awareness. The Researcher.

It's all a bit ephemeral and inrrelevant, except...she gets the feeling that some of it is true, must be true, somehow, somewhere. All those things she dismissed as fanciful before have gone from the status of myth to at least legend and broken history. After all, there are people with unusual abilities, like that show Heroes...

Tony tears into the lasagne as he talks, and she can see he is not unhappy...but he's not himself, either.

[Darqueone]

She thinks as Tony talks:

The WACKO Researcher...

In Heroes all these people have connections, have seen each other "IRL" or in Visions... and yet they don't form any bonds, they don't DO anything with their powers and connections. Except for the Geriatric Gang, and those Heroes are getting killed off...

And ok, so these people here seem to have powers and seem to have some kind of structure and organization, which is what the Heroes ought to be doing.

And yeah, the people in Heroes lie. To each other, to their families, to themselves...

Ok, so no one's perfect.

She watches Tony for a while. We'll see how it goes with this Dr. Spann. If she can get Tony back... Yeah, I'll owe her for that. Her and whoever. Not owe them everything, not owe them forever... but I'll owe them.

[Wired*Nun]

Tony is happy to chat with Anna forever, as long as it's about what he's doing. She feels a guilty relief when he excuses himself to use the restroom, and contemplates her next move.

[Darqueone]

Anna watches him as he steps out, sighs, and sits back. Ok. Wait. After the Doctor... maybe there'll be new information. Till then I'm stuck here.

[Darqueone]

Anna spends the rest of the day leafing through books, talking to Tony (which disturbs her more and more) and speaking casually with Ramdin until it's late. Tired, exhausted after the day and week she's had, she beds down in the bunker in the same accomadations Tony's had.

Tomorrow... and she sleeps.

[Wired*Nun]

There is a small hostel-like room with four single beds off the main room, next to the kitchen. It's obviously used for just-in-case situations like this. Ramdin escorts her to retrieve her things from the Jag, which is now parked in a parking garage nearby. As soon as she lays down after dinner, she falls asleep.

Her dreams are disturbed and disturbing, filled with bits and pieces of her recent experiences - the red dwarf, white Fanny, charismatic Justin, stiff-necked Muertin, and flashes of feeling like someone was sitting on her skull...she wakes several times with a start and a racing heart. Seeing Tony asleep in the next bed over is comforting.

The next morning, she wakes unrefreshed. He body feels fine - in fact, more than fine, as she examines the wound on her head, almost completely gone. The scar is faint and the hair seems to be growing back rapidly. But she knows she hasn't fully processed all the wierd things that happened to her in the last week.

Breakfast is microwave pancakes or toaster waffles, pre-browned sausage, precooked bacon, toast, pasturized orange juice, cereal...everything a well-heeled college student might have in her dorm room. Well, she'd had worse. At least Tony doesn't seem to care.

Ramdin meets her after breakfast, looking good in a Brooks Brothers suit and silk tie. "There will be a briefing on the events of yesterday at nine o'clock. You may attend, if you like. It will interest you." His expression is sober and earnest, today, in contrast to his banter of yesterday.

[Darqueone]

She frowns at the change of plans. "What about Tony?"

[Wired*Nun]

"The briefing is in the conference room just over there." He points across the room at another door. "You won't be far."

[Darqueone]

"When do we see Dr. Spann?"

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin makes a look-over-glasses-down-his-nose motion. "Twelve noon was the appointment. You know how doctors are about other people's punctuality. Never fear, it's in my Blackberry." He holds up the PDA and winks.

[Darqueone]

"Right, right... ok." Anna takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her still wet hair. "Tony's ok for now I guess." she glances at her seated brother, reading intently. "Ok. Sure, let's go to your meeting."

[Wired*Nun]

"Briefing. I suggested you go, but there are conditions." His face grows serious. "You can't speak. You can't ask questions. You can't make declarations. And you - we - have to leave when we're told. Agreed?"

[Darqueone]

Anna blinks, taken aback. "I can stay with Tony if you'd rather. No problem. But yeah, I can keep quiet and leave when told." Back to my military brat roots...

[Wired*Nun]

"No, I think you need to see these things. But the Inner Circle is going to be there, and they aren't very tolerant of disruptions. If you think Muertin is touchy..." He shakes his head. "All right, come along."

He leads her across the library floor to a heavy wooden door with more carvings on it. It opens into a large conference room with a multimeadia suite at one end. There are already about twenty people inside, only one of which - Thaniel by his garb - is sitting at the large table. He either doesn't see them enter, or ignores them.

The rest occupy the seats around the periphery.

All of the men and women - roughly ten of each - are dressed in professional clothing - suits, pantsuits, outfits suitable to work at any large corporation in DC. They chat quietly as the tech at the computer station in the back sets up files on the screen. They take seats near the back.

A moment later, at the stroke on nine, the lights dim to comfortable viewing level, and one of the women near the front stands up and take a position near the podium in front. A door across from them opens and everyone stands up. Randin prompts her to stand with them.

Eight figures enter the room. They all wear outfits similar to Thaniel's and it is impossible to be absolutely sure if each is a man or woman. There are two probable women, two probable men other than Thaniel, and the remaining four could be either.

Each robe or caped cloak is a subtly different color - black, white, grey (Thaniel), yellow, blue, green, red, orange, violet. The eight move around and occupy the seats at the table. The - man? - in white takes the place at the head of the table.

When they sit, everyone else does as well, except for the woman in front who is evidently the presenter.

[Darqueone]

Anna reaches back into her history and reminds herself of her childhood enviroment. A commander's child was always in the spotlight and her father expected her to be presentable, polite, and quiet when needed. And when he was drinking, failure to obey orders was not tolerated. She sits quietly when given the cue, and composes herself to listen and learn what the Rainbow Wierdos are up to.

[Wired*Nun]

The briefing opens with a a good morning but no introduction from the presenter. She launches straight in to her information.

"As many of you know, the Orabonos have been clumsily setting up for a Narcissist takeover of Baltimore for over a year. Last night, they made their move. We had distant surveillance on the last surviving Altruist stronghold, and we have obtained some internal video from the assault itself. We'll start with the external views."

The screen lights up with a long shot over rooftops, zooming in to a mansion or compound. It's dark, but some kind of low-light technology allows relatively clear sight of vehicles pulling up outside, disgorging heavily-armed figures along various points of the perimiter.

There is a break, and the video is noticably darker. Muzzle flashes appear from the attackers and from inside the compound; larger flashes and several light overloads indicate much larger explosions of some sort. "The attackers employed what we believe are AT4 antitank weapons, along with breaching charges of some sort. It appears the defenders are holding well." The view jumps ahead again, probably several minutes.

"Here we see an intervention from a known Lightsider, Jacque 'Harry' Papier, and his Gift, which takes the form of a psycho-illusionary dragon, colloquially known as 'Puff.'" The long shot pulls back to zoom in on a man riding what appears to be a winged dragon of some sort, straight out of a fantasy movie. They fly down to breathe fire upon the attackers, and draw fire in return.

"Now we move to the imagery of the interior." The video switches to show an inside scene. Grainy and in the green of night-vision equipment, it shows a scan, back and forth, of a section of the perimiter of the Stronghold. There is no sound.

Abruptly, the screen whites out repeatedly, accompanied by shocks to the camera that make the picture jump. When the picture comes back, a dozen sets of muzzle flashes can be seen, one of them huge and slower than the others. Then, several more whiteouts, explosions of some type.

This goes on for more than a minute, a concentrated hail of fire, flashes, explosions. The silence is chilling as the audience contemplates the violence of the assault. Glass and bits of structural surface explode or are sent flying, richocheting around from the violence of the incoming firepower.

Outgoing fire sparkles off the outer wall; leaves and branches snap, break and fall, and some combination of defensive fire and the explosions - command-detonated mines perhaps - reduces the volume of the attackers' muzzle flashes.

Then comes the nightmare.

A darkness takes shape in the screen, a kind of light-eating, vaguely man-shaped hole in existence. It bounds forward, and tracers move to meet it, then a blinding light beam, some kind of laser. The thing ignores the bullets, and the only effect of the light being to sihouette its shadow against the wall behind it. It can be seen by its own blackness.

It advances rapidly past and out of camera range. The video jerks and freezes, moving back to an image of the thing framed mid-charge.

The caped figures, as well as most of the rest, lean forward in interest. There are a couple of gasps and a low mutter fills the room. "Restrain yourselves," barks the figure in white, confirming its masculinity.

The next video is a low-light color video of the interior of the manse. Defending men and women can be seen, in full body armor, firing from sandbagged windows and holes in the walls. One of them mans what must be the light generator, a cumbersome thing that blasts a beam of brightness out the picture window that overlooks the rear garden.

The blackness flows into the room and covers the lightbeam operator. Less than a second later, it moves to another defender, leaving the first to topple and crumble to the ground, a dried husk of a human being. The darkness seems to gain strength with it consumption, and finishes with its second victim before heading for a third, all in the space of seconds.

Just as it is about to pass out of the field of view, it is outlined in a cyan cerulean blue. It glows like neon, and a light imprisons it in a net of glowing fibers. It struggles, tearing gaps in its bonds, then drifts outside of the field of vision. The camera shows the defenders backing away and resuming their positions.

Just as the drama seems to have gone the defenders' way, two huge shapes burst through the picture window, turning right and left to rend and slay. They are the size of kodiak bears, with fangs and claws to match. Weapons are turned on the new attackers, but the creatures shrug off the bullets. They methodically slaughter everyone in their path. "Roshanks," mutters someone nearby.

Before the last mortal defender falls, a pack of a dozen rottweilers leap from the right side of the screen upon one of the things, in a well-coordinated attack, bringing the monster down, borne under by a thousand pounds of powerful dog. Blood sprays and chunks of flesh go flying, and into the fray walks a man armed with two machetes. He strikes again and again into the creature being ripped apart by the dogs.

The other monster turns and reaches, taking two impossibly-long strides to snatch at the man from behind. His head comes off his shoulders with one tremendous wrench, and the thing begins to pick dogs off the other's battered body like rats, breaking them and flinging them into a corner. The video ends.

The woman goes on in a dispassionate voice, rising slightly over the whispers and mutters among the audience until it dies down. "That assault penetrated their perimiter and broke through the physical defenses in place. The unbound spirit you saw seems to have been neutralized, presumably by one or more Nephilim with the capability to deal with such threats. Here is the last piece we have."

The video cuts to another view, showing a narrow hallway. "This is a basement hallway in the Stronghold. The door you see to the left is their security room."

They can see several men in combat gear, and one of those monster things, trying to get open the door, with claws, knives and rifle buts. Apparently the door is made of sterner stuff than usual, for all they end up doing is tearing off facade and drywall.

Suddenly, there are flashes of light and all of them fall. There is a blur and a jumble of figures apparently emerging from behind and under the camera location. One of the figures finishes off the monster with rifle shots directly to the head, execution-style.

There are three men in combat gear and one bald one, wearing a simple saffron robe, like a Buddhist monk. They open the door and bring out several other men in combat gear, some wounded, a dog, a woman, and a man on a stretcher. They bring these past and behind the camera, then the original four reenter then exit the picture by climbing the stairs at the end of the corridor.

"One of these is Isaac Moriel, the Altruist Champion of Richmond. The unarmored man is Ajmanarampur, the number-two Nephil from LightSource. The other two are as yet unidentified. The man they carried out on the stretcher may have been Ben Luciel himself."

Another murmur sweeps the room, dying immediately when one of the women in robes speaks. "That explains the failure of the Unbound. He took a hand personally."

Another, a man, says "Then he -"

"Silence," snaps the man in white. "This open meeting is adjourned. Clear the room."

Everone not wearing a robe stands up and files out, including the media tech and lastly the presenter. She closes the door and parks herself outside. presumably to make sure they are not interrupted.

Ramdin motions for Anasatasia to follow him, going into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of soft drinks before sitting down at the table next to Tony. The others from the meeting scatter in different directions, most of them talking urgently in twos and threes.

"That's some of what happened yesterday morning. There are reports of other Nephilim final deaths, as well as over sixty mortal casualties, about evenly spread among the defenders and attackers."

[Darqueone]

Anna is shaken by what she's seen, and unsure. She sips her soda. "Pretty heavy stuff." she compares it internally to the work-stories she heard from her dad growing up, but there's really no comparison.

"Do you guys fight like that... often?"

[Wired*Nun]

"No. Perhaps ever year or two, somewhere in the world. Not so much in the developed countries, where law and order lays a bit more heavy on civilization. And yes, it is serious business. I wanted - well, I agreed when Thaniel suggested it, not like I'm going to contradict him - you to see what some of the worst can be like. Being immortal doesn't mean you can't die, permanently. What we call Final death. And there are some very ugly people out there. Dead horses?"

He folds his hands and leans forward on the table. "In war historically, statistically, a new soldier has more than a half his total chance of dying in the first two weeks of combat. It's like that for Nephilim, too - you are most vulnerable in the time after your Conversion. That's what we're trying to keep from happening...and obviously, every new Nephil is a valuable resource. And..." he smiles, "It would offend me personally if you got schwacked."

[Darqueone]

Anna shrugs. "What can I do in battle? Translate war cries?" she chuckles "Guns have range. I guess you could say words do too, and sticks and stones and all. But in terms of fighting, I don't think I'm going to be very useful. I guess I could shock someone but I'd have to be touching them. See my point about guns and range. I guess I should be stationed in the rear, if anywhere."

[Wired*Nun]

"Precisely my point. Strength in numbers, and organization. If you run off on your own, you are alone and green in a very hostile world where you won't stay below the radar for long. I'm so very much not supposed to say this to you..." he leans forward a bit closer and lowers his voice, "but if we offend you too much, I could put you in touch with others..."

[Darqueone]

Anna frowns and nods. "Yeah. I hear you. Look, I can't really get much past helping Tony. If he's not... better, I have to focus on taking care of him. If he gets better, if he can go back to his life... then ok, I've got options and I can consider, you know. Offers."
Sitting in a library translating ancient works sounds... neat. she thinks wistfully. If I can trust them.

[Wired*Nun]

"I understand. Listen, it's a couple of hours until your appointment, and it won't take an hour to get there...would you like to find out a bit more about your abilities? Experiment a bit?" There's an eagerness in his face, a boyish lust for knowledge.

[Darqueone]

Anna grins. "Yeah, a little." She pokes him with a gloved finger. "Bzzzt."

[Wired*Nun]

"Heh. Let's get a little privacy, and we don't want to..." he cocks a surreptitious thumb at Tony, "freak anyone out."

They go over to one of the anterooms that line the main room. It's a reading room with a couple of comfortable chairs, a desk, a computer, and good light.

Ramdin pulls the chairs together, nose to nose with enough room to squeeze in. When they sit, their knees are almost touching.

"All right. Most Gifts can be controlled, with some simple effort. The soul knows what to do, if the mind will learn to give the instructions. So...first you need to relax. If you know any meditation or hypnosis techniques, use those. Slow your breathing, and concentrate on an effect. Pain is the most obvious one, eh? Think of dealing me a little pain...just a little...then tap my hand with the tip of your bare finger, once."

[Darqueone]

Anna strips off her gloves, sits up straight, closes her eyes and exhales. Then she slowly, with thought and purpose, recites the Lord's Prayer to herself, silently. Then she reaches out, eyes still closed, and taps his hand with her right index finger, once.
She doesn't focus on pain, exactly; it's not in her nature to harm someone who, after all, didn't exactly mistreat her. She focuses on passing whatever power it is to him.

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin jumps, and flexes his hand. "That was pain? It felt...good, actually. Like you just gave me a jolt of caffeine. Try something else..."

[Darqueone]

Anna grins, and this time tries pain.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ow. Now that was pain. Like you stabbed me with a needle." He rubs his hand, then holds out the other one. "Try something else. Something not pain."

[Darqueone]

Ok, I can do physical sensations. I could try pleasure but I think I know how that would work. Emotions? She touches the deep anxiety within herself over Tony, and touches Ramdin.

[Wired*Nun]

He jumps again. "Ow. I said something else than pain. That was the same."

[Darqueone]

Anna grins "Not really." She tries Sorrow - Dad dying; bittersweet pain and love and joy...and massive guilt.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ow. Look...that was just the same again. Do you mind if I'm your co-experimenter instead of just the Guinea pig? Tell me what you're aiming for each time?"

[Darqueone]

"Don't you think that could prejudice your reaction?" Anna considers, and touches him one more time, focusing on calm, soothing, pleasant sensations.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes...I suppose." He holds his hand out somewhat reluctantly for the next test.

When she touches him this time, he smiles, rubbing the spot. "Ahh, now that felt good. Like a...hard to describe. Like a lover's touch after you've been apart. Better reserve that for people you plan on sleeping with. Or rewarding. Did you ever see that Star Trek episode? The givers of pain and pleasure? Or 'Sleeper' and the Orgasmatron?"

[Darqueone]

"Yeah, I remember that Star Trek." She grins, a little uncomfortably but not wanting Ramdin to feel awkward about it. "Let me try this one..." and she focuses on sleep - restful, deep, peaceful.

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmm. Pleasure again, not much different if at all."

[Darqueone]

Anna sits back, absently playing with her glove. "Ok. Looks like it's a two note band; pain or pleasure. Hm. Can we try for intensity?" then she shakes her head. "Nah; the extreme of either option could be bad. Well, wait. I could try amping it down and assume that I could make it more intense. Want to try that?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Thought you reduced it as much as possible already...the reports from your captivity indicated intensity enough to debilitate...did you try heat, cold, electricity or nausea? Noise? Smell? Roughness, smoothness?"

[Darqueone]

"Let's see..." she sits foward again, giving him a moment to brace himself, then touches him with the same weight, but trying to 'whisper' her power across, a light touch of pleasure... because pain isn't really her thing. Here's hoping he doesn't think I'm hitting on him...

[Wired*Nun]

"That was hardly anything at all. Just a tickle. So you can control the intensity...I'd rather you not make it stronger, if you please. It's kind of creepy."

[Darqueone]

Anna laughs. "No worries. Let's try something else?"

With his consent, she reaches out and tries to influence her touch to bring heat... no, warmth. Let's not burn him.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ahh...that was warm...you can probably do heat then. Presumably just the sensation. Maybe you should try to light something on fire? Not now," he says hastily. "Just something to think about. But it's probably just sensations."

[Darqueone]

Anna laughs, and tries cold. Well, cool. A chill, something to raise goosebumps.

[Wired*Nun]

The goosebumps come, giving her a satisfied feeling of accomplishment. "Oooh. Cold. Yes, that works. Even if there is really no cold...it could be quite useful."

[Darqueone]

Anna, without removing her finger from the contact, switches her thoughts to Big Ben tolling. Bells...

[Wired*Nun]

"Ah. I heard something, I think. Some kind of tone? Not very loud...and strangely, like I could hear with my skin."

[Darqueone]

"You heard it with your skin? That is weird. Huh." She tries again, this time using the sound of gunfire.

[Wired*Nun]

"Some kind of...tapping noise. Along with a bit of an irritation, maybe. Not sure." He pulls his hand back to scratch at the point of contact.

[Darqueone]

"Hmm. Ok. Some sounds get through, but muted. I guess that could be useful as a distractor, but I'm not a human boombox. Let's try... this...." and she touches him gently, bringing to her mind's eye the image of a glorious Hawaiian sunset.

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmm...some kind of glow? Maybe the nerves of my skin aren't fit for these specialized sensations? Try that on my face near my eye...on low power, please."

[Darqueone]

Anna brightens, takes off the other glove, and puts her right index finger near the corner of his eye, and the left index finger in his ear. She tries Big Ben and sunsets again.... remembering just in time to try to be gentle.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ach." He shakes off her touch, waving his hand as if after a fly. "Like I was in a psychadelic movie. Looks like the sensations need the right kind of nerve endings to work right."

[Darqueone]

Anna laughs, the first time she's given something freely and with her impulse. She reaches out again and tries the sound of gunfire (gently) in his ear.

[Wired*Nun]

"Bangs. Pops. Okay, enough with the ear stuff. Good thing I'm not interested, or I would be." He grins at her in a natural, brotherly way.

Oh. It hits her. He's gay.

At least, that's her impression. She's not sure why.

[Darqueone]

She tilts her head. "Um." Her experience gives her many euphemisms, experiences gives her few options. "Do you like... girls?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I love them, every way but physically. Did you ever see 'The Big Chill?' I adore that line, 'sorry, I just don't DO vaginas.'" He cocks his head. "Is that a problem?"

[Darqueone]

Anna laughs. "No. I don't agree with what you might -do-, but we're cool. In a way, it's easier."

Insteresting. The more contact the more info? Hmmmm....

"Hey... what's the coolest thing you've learned with your powers? Um, assuming you can tell me?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Well...the coolest thing I can tell you...let me think." He leans back, pondering for a moment.

"You're Catholic, right? Well, I've found exactly one real splinter of the True Cross among all the 'relics' I can tell you there's nothing supernatural about it, but Yeshua ben Joseph really carried it, and died his death upon it. It's fortunate for me that this was so long ago. Crucifixion is an agony, and I'd rather not experience it too vividly, even secondhand."

[Darqueone]

Anna takes this information quietly, not sure what to think. "Wow." she says after a long moment, quietly, and aware that this isn't really the most profound of comments.

Careful what you ask for, Anna...

"Hm. Can we try one more touch?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Sure. Should I worry?"

[Darqueone]

"No idea." she lays her hand flat, resting her arm on the chair's armrest and offering her palm to him. "Just put your hand on mine and let's see what happens."
When he touches her, she focuses again on whatever this power is, and allowing it to flow without intent; not pain, not pleasure, but like the first touch. This time, though, he is more touching her than she reaches to touch him.

[Wired*Nun]

"Feels like...a vibration. Like hanging on to an electric sander. Kind of wierd and maybe annoying...but not terrible." He picks up his palm from hers and rubs it. "Kind of itches. Hey, I bet you could do itching."

[Darqueone]

"Wanna try it?" Anna asks to cover an interior analysis; are there any new impressions, suggestions, or insights to this person across from her?

[Wired*Nun]

She doesn't have any epiphanies, large or small. Perhaps her earlier intuition was just a compilation of cues from spending time with Ramdin.

She tries itching - it works, very very well. Might be a great distractor, better even than pain or pleasure - and easy on the conscience, too.

[Darqueone]

"Ok, well... that's pretty good, I guess. Pretty good experimenting. I can be "Bug Girl" or "MozzieLady" she chuckles.

"Ok, so...any other suggestions?" she sits back.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ummm...nope. Not at the moment. I'll let you know." He scratches at his hand some more. "I think it's overstimulated. So...looks like it's about time to head over to Dr. Spann's office. A bit early, but why don't you go convince your brother to come along with us."

He stands up, holding the door into the main hall for her.

[Darqueone]

Anna jumps up and convinces Tony to bring his book along for the ride... the ride where, she's not sure. She's careful to put her gloves back on before she touches him. They follow Tony out to transportation, and the Dr.

[Wired*Nun]

Ramdin leads them back out the same side exit, then across the street to a parking garage. There they find Muertin's Jaguar. Ramdin opens the door for her, and Tony slides into the back seat, puts on his seat belt and starts reading. It's almost like he's autistic, he's so focused...

They drive back up the BW Parkway, again, to Baltimore. She recognizes Johns Hopkins as they pull into a professional center across the parking lot. She sees "Joanne Spann, MD, DPM, FAFA" on the list of offices where they park.

"Here we are." He waits for her to coax Tony out. It's not hard; he's very cooperative, just not very interested.

Inside, the waiting room is comfortable and homey, with landscape art of the French countryside. There's also some iconic art and other touches that make her believe Dr. Spann - or maybe her decorator - is Catholic. There's a young man of Italian extraction watching television. She immediately pegs him as military - or maybe a cop - hair, demeanor, dress, gear attached to his belt. He glances their way, then back at the TV. She gets the feeling he isn't as disinterested as he seems.

As soon as Ramdin gives Tony's name, the receptionist recites that time-honored phrase, "The Doctor will see you now." No writing, signing in, insurance...must be some special arrangement. It's just another reminder of how these people don't play by the rules.

Ramdin sits down in the waiting room, giving Anna a little finger-back wave. Go on.

The receptionists leads her and Tony down a short hallway to a glass-and-wood door. The glass is curtained with lace on the inside, to give a certain amount of privacy but not block determined vision. She knocks, then opens the door.

"Thank you, Ellen. Come in, please." The woman inside is of middle height, with a handsome, elegant demeanor and a faint French accent. To Anna, it's obvious that she's from the Alsace, probably from the village of Domremy, but she realizes that most Americans wouldn't even pick up on it, so good is her English.

She shakes hands with them both, not remarking on the gloves, then waves at the chairs. "Please, have a seat." She slides her skirt under her knee with the manner of one supremely comfortable with herself, and folds her hands, leaning on an elbow.

[Darqueone]

Anna keeps one arm around Tony as they walk in, and guides him to a seat. "Thank you." She seats herself next to Tony.

"You probably know, I'm Anna and this is my brother Tony. Do you need background?" She speaks quietly, aware of the professional surroundings, the need to keep her self control, and the importance of not freaking Tony out.

[Wired*Nun]

"I've just a couple of questions. First, does he have any history of instability or mental illness? Anything that will skew my reference points for 'normal'?"

[Darqueone]

"No, Ma'm."

[Wired*Nun]

"Very well. Now...are you willing to release him into my care for a time? If so, I would like to have him committed. He'll reside at a private facility I own; you may visit him at any time, but it will allow me to work with him intensively while ensuring his safety."

She seems very sincere, and serene, though Anna can see she is tired under that poise.

As she's thinking about it, she looks around the room. Crucifix above her desk, votive candles on a shelf, the Sacred Heart on an exquisite canvas against the left wall...and a well-used sword mounted above the window. There is a gorgeous satin banner with the fleur-de-lis of France on it draped artfully along a shelf, beneath the blade.

[Darqueone]

French... perhaps a special devotion to Our Lady, maybe Joan of Arc....

"May I ask some questions, ma'm?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course, my dear. I imagine you still have many - Muertin told me you are a very recent Conversion."

[Darqueone]

"Um... yes, I guess you could say so." she clears her throat "So... what are you going to do? I know you might not be able to tell me exactly, but..."

[Wired*Nun]

"First I will conduct a thorough physical examination using modern technology. I will then conduct a psychospiritual examination using my own extended perceptions. I will devise a plan of treatment that will move slowly and entail as little risk to the patient as possible, to reverse or repair whatever damages have been done to him. This might include medical, spiritual or psychological therapies."

[Darqueone]

Sounds like she's done this before; that was a prepared, routine answer.

"Ok. Can I be here for that?"

[Wired*Nun]

"He will be at Stillewald, not here; you may stay there, but you may not interfere with the therapies."

[Darqueone]

"Where is Stillewald?" and then, seeing the Doctor is still answering questions...

"Have you done this kind of thing successfully before?"

"Can you give me an idea of his chances?"

"I know this is personal, and forgive me but...Are you Catholic?"

[Wired*Nun]

"It's here, in the area; not far."

"Yes, I've helped many people successfully. I've been in psychiatric practice for over one hundred years; I've been a medical doctor for more than five hundred. I daresay I am preeminent even among our kind."

"His chances? Without an evaluation, I can't say what his chances of a full recovery are; but I guarantee improvement. If I meet with something I can't handle myself, I also have colleagues with different, perhaps even greater, powers from my own, on which to call."

She smiles at the last question. "More than you know, my dear. I was confirmed in 1425, and have never abandoned the Church, though it has long since abandoned me. And you? You are also?" She smiles with motherly concern, easy to accept in a woman who looks forty-five but claims more than five centuries.

[Darqueone]

"We both are. Tony's a priest." Anna hopes that the doctor's "abandonment" by the Church doesn't create a conflict for her here.

[Wired*Nun]

"I surmised that from his collar. Fear not, my dear. I do not hold the Holy Mother Church responsible for the sins of the Work of God." She realizes after the fact that Dr. Spann spoke the last sentence in Latin.

[Darqueone]

Anna decides now is not a time for a theological debate. "Ok... Let's, um... let's do that exam?"

Well, we came this far. A physical wouldn't go amiss, and then we'll see... what we see.

[Wired*Nun]

"My dear, you speak as if you will be my assistant. What exactly is or are your Gifts? Are they relevant?"

[Darqueone]

"You said I could be there. I guess you could say I'm still exploring my Gifts, I don't know if or how they could be relevant. You said you'd start with a physical exam with modern equipment; I'd prefer to leave the room if he has to turn his head and cough, but I'd like to stay with him for as much as possible."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I will conduct the examination at Johns Hopkins; this is my psychiatric practice. You are welcome to attend like any other family member would, if your Gifts are of no relevance to diagnosis or treatment. I understand you are anxious; be assured I will do my best." She stands up, elegant and perfectly balanced on her heels.

"Let's bring him over, shall we?" She opens the door, walking out to speak to the receptionist for a moment, then leads them out the front door and across the street to a physician's entrance of one wing of Johns Hopkins. Tony follows along docilely, nose in a book even as he walks.

Soon, Dr. Spann has Tony beginning a series of physical exams and tests - blood work, hearing, CAT and PET scans, MRI, X-ray, urine, others she's never heard of. There's nothing more invasive than the phlobotomy needle, and three hours later the results are in; nothing is physically wrong with Tony.

"That's good news; it narrows the search for the problem, and rules out the obvious. Now, for my own personal examination. Tony, would you lay down on the table, please?"

Tony hops up obligingly and lays on his back. Spann wheels a chair over to sit facing his head at the end of the exam table.

Without further ado, she lays her hands alongside his head, covering his ears, her fingertips on his jawline. She stays that way for minutes, then tens of minutes; her eyes closed, her lips moving occasionally in muted words.

After more than an hour, she sits up, putting a hand in the small of her back to massage her lumbar region. Tony seems to be asleep. Turning to Anna, she smiles.

"Good news. The alteration was crude, rushed, and completely reversible in my opinion. There is no organic damage; there is what you might call a posthynotic suggestion that suppresses his ability to process social cues, along with a heightened focus on certain logical and academic processes. All of these are a result of a warping of his mind - not his brain - and associated impressions on his soul. Bottom line, as you say - a kind of mild induced autism."

[Darqueone]

Anna feels her lungs expand in what sesm like the first breath she's taken in 24 hours. "So... probably reversable." she feels a little shiver. "That's... that's great. Thank you. Ok. So.... when and how long?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I would estimate a few weeks at most. I don't want to rush things - unless you have a deadline? You seem skeptical? Consider, it only takes a moment to crack your pate with a blunt instrument; it may take a long time to heal your skull." She shakes her head in sympathy. "It is much easier to damage than to heal."

[Darqueone]

Anna's obviously disappointed at the length of time required, but it's understandable how delicate and detailed the work might be. "No deadline, except I'd like him well as soon as possible. We have to figure out how to get him back into... you know, the world."

"And yeah, I guess I am skeptical. This is all very new, and hard to swallow. I don't believe everything I've been told, so ... yeah, I'm skeptical. But, we need help and you're it. Please... help us."

"Um. As soon as you can, please."

[Wired*Nun]

"The world will always accept another soul...it is God who is more discriminating. 'Be in the world, but not of it.'"

She smiles sadly at Anna's lack of belief. "You will have to find your own faith - but is there something I can offer in proof? I understand you already have experience of some form of Gift, though you haven't told me what that may be. Your hands are gloved, which indicates something by touch initiated, possibly harmful or disruptive? Would you like to experience something of mine? Something of proof? Everyone is in need of healing, child."

He expression is kind, and motherly, hard to reconcile with so handsome a woman - handsome, not beautiful in the classical sense. She is reminded of a Mother Superior she once knew...

[Darqueone]

Anna shrugs "I'd understood that God loves and accepts us all." and she leaves it at that. "

Anna is wary. "I feel like I need to make sure Tony's ok. Then I can do whatever with... whatever. Um."

"Ma'm. You can see what's there." She indicates her hands "Do you see what's not there?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Only to those who accept Him themselves. There will be those who are damned."


"What is not there? I am sorry, I do not understand. I can see nothing more than you do, without contact. But I can show you things, if evidence will strengthen your faith."

[Darqueone]

Anna really doesn't want a theological arguement until after Tony can join it; he had better arguements, anyway. God will forgive anyone who seeks it, and yeah, that requires acceptance of God. Only those that choose it will be Damned. Whatever.

"Yeah, not sure where I was going with that myself. Maybe we can experiement and whatever after Tony's better, but I'd like to wait until we see how he's doing. I guess you could say I'm stable, but he's still critical. Once we're both stable, we'll look at showing off? Actually, I'll have plenty of faith in your abilities if we can get Tony's head on straight."

[Wired*Nun]

"Then let us begin with those things. Are you ready to move to Stillewald?"

Presuming the answer is yes - Anna's things are all in the Jag in any case - Dr. Spann leads them back across to her office and retrieves Ramdin from the waiting room, where he is chatting amiably with the clean-cut Italian fellow there.

"Come along, David? Will you drive for us?" asks Spann to the man, who nods, smiling.

"Sure. Happy to chauffer my warrior princess. Hi, I'm David Fertelli," he says by way of introduction to Anna and Tony, extending his hand to be shaken. Tony shakes absently, then goes back to his book.

They troop out to the parking lot, where Anna's things are transferred from the Jag to a sturdy-looking Crown Victoria. David gets in the driver's seat, with Dr. Spann in the passenger side, leaving the back seat for Anna and Tony. Ramdin waves goodbye, then makes a theatrical bow. "Anna, I leave you and your brother in the good doctor's capable hands," he says. "Bye, David."

"It's not far, just over in Day's Cove," Spann says once they get under way. She gives Fertelli directions once they reach the area, and soon find themselves at a gate with a guard. He waves them through after talking to Spann. "Stillewald Institute," says the sign.

A quarter mile later they pull into a small parking lot next to a peaceful facility located on the edge of the cove, surrounded by lawns and trees. Patients in light blue, and staff in pastels, can be seen relaxing in the early spring sunshine.

Fertelli helps bring her bags up to their rooms - hers and Tony's adjacent and adjoining.

"Let's get some dinner, shall we? I am famished." In fact, she looks both tired and hungry, maintaining her poise with admirable determination.

They soon are seated in a small private dining room off the staff cafeteria, eating a very creditable lunch of continental cuisine. "I have a Cordon Bleu chef here...it's a nice perquisite, don't you think?"

After demolishing a fair amount of food, Spann starts on coffee, then speaks.

"I have a confession to make, Anna. No, it's a good confession. That dissimulation in the examination room was mostly for those others listening. At least one organization maintains listening devices in many of the places I frequent, but this place here is secure."

"In reality, your Tony should be completely fine by tomorrow. But any enemies or players of games should be convinced you and he are unavailable and uninteresting for several weeks. That's what I've bought you. I suggest you both stay here in any case, as long as you can suffer it, to find your feet and establish your faith."

[Darqueone]

Again with the lying. Not-truths, anyway. Always for good reasons, the best intentions...

"Ok, Doctor. Thanks." Anna goes for "less is more" in her response. Tony gets better and we figure out how to get him back into the world, then I'll decide. "...enemies or players of games..." , right! 'Cause the doc here isn't playing any games. My ass.

"...establish your faith..." - bite me. My faith is fine, lady. I just don't believe the line you're selling.

She smiles. "The meal was great, doctor, and your hospitality is phenominal. I hope you don't mind my saying, but you look beat. Thanks for everything, and I can't wait to be able to talk to Tony when he's feeling better... I'd understand, though, if you want to get some sleep and take care of Tony when you're fresh."

[Wired*Nun]

"I'll tell the chef you enjoyed it. Yes, that's what will be. I haven't slept for the last two nights. I do not want to make any mistakes due to fatigue."

She finishes off the coffee, then takes her napkin off her lap, tossing it on the table. "In fact, I'm about ready for sleep now, perhaps ten hours before I start my rounds at two. Any of the staff will assist you with your needs. There is a library with computers, television, whatever you might need."

She stands up. "If there's nothing else, would you excuse us? David, would you walk with me before you leave?"

After any further goodbyes, they depart, letting the door to the room stand open.

[Darqueone]

Anna stands with the Doctor does, and nods to David as he escorts the Doctor out.

"Hey, Tony? Let's go check out our rooms, and then you can read some more. Ok?"

She settles Tony in his room and then, for lack of better options, takes a walk out on the grounds.

[Wired*Nun]

"All right. You know, there's some really fascinating stuff in here on free will contingency versus blueprint predestination theology in the post-Reformation Arminian-Calvinist debates...." He natters on about some obscure theological points, that she almost follows except for the mounds of jargon.

They take at look at their comfortably-appointed rooms, and she leaves him there, stretched out on his bed like she remembers his typical teenage pose, upside-down and backward.

The staff greet her with deference - "Good afternoon, Miss Dankov, how are you today, Miss Dankov, oh we'll take good care of him, Miss Dankov." It's like she's the owner rather than a guest. I wonder how much these people know about...people like me.

The grounds are immaculate; there are benches and arbors, fountains and pleasant views out over the cove to the opposite shore a few hundred meters away. It's restful, like its name - Quiet Forest, in German. Across the water, she can see a one-person sailcraft, with an older boy on it, guiding it hither and yon on the placid surface.

[Darqueone]

Anna kills time thinking and walking the grounds, and retires after finding dinner for herself and Tony.

Tomorrow, we'll know more. Once Tony's back up and running, we'll talk.

[Wired*Nun]

The day passes restfully - or restlessly, as she's eager to get on with things - as dinner fades to sleep to breakfast. She sees a few of the - inmates? What's the word for patients in a place like this? That must be it, patients - around, but none of them look to be any problem. One seems catatonic; a couple of them talk to themselves. Most are simply placid, or childlike.

The staff informs her that they expect Dr. Spann around nine o'clock; a bit before nine, Anna sees her pull into the parking lot in a late-model Mercedes. She looks much the better for her rest.

"Good morning, my dear," she says brightly, taking both of Anna's gloved hands in hers and air-kissing her lightly near the cheek. On an American this would seem an affectation, but Anna remembers her time in France and the ubiquity of this gesture.

"Let us go to work, yes? It should not take long - I hope, but do not promise. But I have great confidence."

She leads Anna into an examination room, done in neutral colors, with faint relaxing music playing. Tony is there, waiting, with a pretty young aide whom he is studiously ingoring.

"Up on the table, Tony, good man that you are. Just lie back and relax; this is just like yesterday, just a little bit of looking at you."

She again closes her eyes and places her hands on his head, this time more along his forehead and cheekbones. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but immediately falls asleep.

About twenty minutes later, she removes her hands, brushing them off theatrically. "Voila. Psychic surgery complete. He may be somewhat delicate for a day or two, much as with any procedure. Please try not to allow him to become involved with anything too traumatic - grief counselings, domestic abuse, or anything else that may excite strong emotions."

She sits down across from Anna, leaving Tony to sleep peacefully. "Let him sleep for a while; it will be better that he awakens naturally, with you here. That should be in an hour or two. I can stay for a bit, if there is anything else you wish to speak to me about; otherwise, I have other patients to see."

[Darqueone]

"No, ma'm, I don't... wait. What is Tony going to remember about this? What do I need to tell him?"

[Wired*Nun]

"He will - should - remember everything...at least, what he experienced while conscious. Did Ramdin or anyone tell you of the Conventions yet?"

[Darqueone]

Anna shakes her head.

[Wired*Nun]

"All right. Here they are, in the short form. Think of them as the Three Commandments of the Nephilim...the best of us heed them in all things, the worst of us break them at whim...and are sometimes punished. Most often they are bent a bit, but are always present."

"First is Veil, or Shield. It is a proscription on murder - either of mortals, or imposing Final death on our kind. This is the First Convention, and the most strongly enforced, even to imposing the offender's own Final Death."

"The second one is Shroud, or Cloak. It means we do not reveal ourselves to mortals, especially if they are in a position to cause all Nephilim to be exposed. This is generally bent in the case of close family - but if it causes problems you might be sanctioned."

"The third one is Observation. It means you are not to reach too high for power over mortals. This generally only applies to political or military power - business and the influence of money is generally acceptable - don't try to run for the Congress."

"These are our rules. They are simple, flexible, and violated at your peril. I'm not making threats; I'm only saying that you will bring consequences upon yourself if you flaunt them. There are among us professional enforcers of the Conventions, and they are always busy. The Champion of any city may also convene a Tribunal to solicit a Judgment, which is a sentence of justice for an offense."

[Darqueone]

Anna considers these. "I have to tell Tony the truth."

[Wired*Nun]

"That's your prerogative...and as a priest, I am sure he can keep his confidences, especially given what is at stake. Now, if there is nothing further?"

[Darqueone]

"No, Ma'm, thank you." she stands as the doctor leaves, then settles down with a book to wait for Tony to stir.

[Wired*Nun]

It isn't very long before Anthony wakes, rolling sideways to stop at the edge of the table, holding out a questing hand. He blinks, peering at her with an initial conclusion, then a smile.

"Hi, Annie." That marks the third time she can remember him calling her that...a sign of something, she's sure, since she was never fond of the appellation. "I had a funny dream."

[Darqueone]

Anna smiles sadly. "Not a dream, bro. Got a minute for some business?"

She slides off her chair and bows her head. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It's been about a year since my last confession, and I'm guilty of the usual array of sins. I need to talk to you about what's been happening in the last two or three weeks..."

And she tells him everything.

[Wired*Nun]

Tony sits up, saying, "Just a minute." He washes his face in the medical sink, sucking down some water and wetting his hair. "Feel funny. No, I'm all right."

So he sits down, after turning the lock on the door, and listens. And listens. Listens some more.

He asks a few questions for clarification, uncritically, then asks to see the scar on her head.

"So...no matter what of this turns out to be...accurate, what they've told you...you seem to be cured of the cancer? Or at least in remission...that's a miracle. That's good, I'd give...would have given almost anything to have you well...but Pharoah's wizards did miracles, too, by Satanic power. These people are connected to all sorts of things I've read about, and now you have seen some of what they can do. And they've told you that you are one of them. And you seem to be able to do some things too...call me a doubting Thomas, but you have just their words for it, really. And they meddled with my mind, though I seem to be fine now - but am I? I don't know."

[Darqueone]

"I know. I mean... angels don't have bodies, so fallen angles don't have bodies, so the whole mated-with-women thing is clearly wrong. But I guess if you wake up and find out you're a freak, you could jump to conclusions about the source." her tone is wry.

"About the cancer, I don't know. I haven't had any more seizures, but I haven't had an exam, much less by a doctor I trust. Which is a really short list just about now. "

Her expression is troubled. "I don't know if you're ok. Do you remember what yesterday was like? I had to do something, and it was clearly a weird situation so I kind of had to go with what was available in terms of help."

"I think we both could benefit from a check up, Tony. And we have cop trouble too." she refers to her story about run-in's with the law and kidnappings.

"We need to get you back to your superiors. We need to get checked up. We need to clear up the legal issues. And... I need to figure out what I'm doing now."

"So, you hungry? Or anything?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ummm...yeah, that's what the official Church position is. Between you, me, and the wall...I'm not entirely convinced. Oh, I'd never say it to anyone else...probably. But Jacob wrestled with an angel. The angels that came to Lot in Sodom too had physical form, and apparently had to be protected from the mob. The angels that visited Abraham had their feet washed and ate his food. Saint Thomas Aquinas admitted that angels assume human form from time to time. The resurrections of Jesus and Lazarus illustrate God's control of life and the body. He can certainly allow or direct the forms of angels if he so chooses. And Genesis seems to indicate that the Nephilim - who these people claim to be - did breed with women. The question is, who were these Nephilim? Other references call them "sons of God," which can be a general term for mankind, but also of angels. So what they say seems consistent on its face." He looks troubled. "Most conspiracy theories do seem plausible. Doesn't mean it's true..."


"I don't know if you're ok. Do you remember what yesterday was like?


"I remember pretty much everything, except I wasn't interested. It's like I was only interested in the books, and I remember everything I read, pretty much, and everything we did, you brought me lasagne, we went to the hospital...yeah, I remember. It just didn't seem important that I pay attention...kind of like when you're a kid and get dragged to do grownup things."

"I think we both could benefit from a check up, Tony. And we have cop trouble too." she refers to her story about run-in's with the law and kidnappings.

"Yeah...we can go to St. Agnes, I know a devout internist there that I trust...I could maybe persuade him to examine us in consultation with specialists...at least for organic damage. As far as cops...the diocese will protect me. I don't have to tell them anything. We could set up a webcam somewhere anonymous to talk to you to prove you're all right, and maybe they will drop the missing persons issues. If there's no crime, they can't really officially pursue it too far...but from what you said, this Reynolds guy might take things into his own hands or something."


So, you hungry? Or anything?"

"Not really. I had breakfast...we had breakfast, remember? So let's leave. Get a taxi, I don't care what it costs. Go talk to the Monsignor...lay it all out...well, we can leave out all the speculations and just tell the facts, since we can't even necessarily trust our own impressions. Maybe ask about...welll, some more unusual measures. Maybe a brother specializing in the occult..."
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[Darqueone]

Anna shrugged. "These folks actually specified the angles that mated with man were fallen angels. It's beyond my understanding why God would order a physical body for a rebelious angel so it could defile his greatest creation. Anyway, you've always been a conspiracy nut." she grins at him, teasing gently.

"Ok, so we'll go to St. Agnes, get checked out, and get you back to the monsignior and the diocese. I guess they could press charges for false reports and stuff, but maybe with all the hell that broke lose over the Orabono's they're not eager to waste time on piddly stuff."

"There's just one more thing, I feel like I need to mention. Danger. I mean, I think these Orabono people kidnapped both of us. And they busted up most of Baltimore. I saw some video that..." she shivers "Well, if it wasn't special effects and stuff (which it could be) then we wouldn't even be lunch. We'd be ... maybe target practice. I don't seem to be able to do anything long range. I have to touch, and these guys use assault weapons.

"So, if we leave here...we could be in trouble. I mean... if the bad guys put any kind of tracking in our heads, or if they have someone like Ramdin who can find people... Bang." she makes a finger gun and shoots herself in the head. "And if we're around innocent people at the time, I don't think they'll care much. I'm just saying."

[Wired*Nun]

He smiles, enjoying the debate - or discussion, if you will, playing devil's advocate as he often did. "As they were cast out of heaven, perhaps they were forced to assume humanoid form. Maybe that denied them access to the purely spiritual realm of the highest heavenly. Maybe angels naturally can assume human form for a time, but find it unpleasant, except for the fallen ones. There is so much that scipture doesn't tell us. For me, that's where the fun is. Who wants to live in the boring ol' world everyone else does?" He chuckles.

He turns serious as she talks about the dangers. "So...pardon me for going over this, but it's just so amazing when I think about it. You really can understand other languages - like the speaking in tongues that the believers experienced at Pentecost, perhaps - and you really can cause sensations with your touch. That's supernatural, which mean's it's either from God or Satan...at least, that's what the Church has always taught. But...I always wondered if there isn't something in the middle. I mean, people have inherent physical power, right? That we use for good or evil. Angels have inherent spirtual power, that they use for good or evil...and they can exercise a certain amount of physical power, as Jacob found out. Can we exercise a certain amount of supernatural power, on our own? Sorry, I'm getting off track." He sighs.

"Okay, danger. I mean, what are our options? Go back to normal life and hope? Run away for a while and come back later? Move entirely? With your talent we could live anywhere and you, you could fit right in. We could move to France or Germany or Italy...I could get a new posting...I could get a missionary posting, you could come along, be a lay sister for a while, wait until things blow over...but if we stay here, how do we...how do we protect ourselves against people like this?" He stops, and an expression something like horror comes over his face.

"What if...no, I can't say what if. It's almost certain that there are people like this in the Church, somewhere - covertly, maybe organized. One of the societies...Jesuits, Opus Dei, something like that. Or one of the Orders...so much possibility. If we can connect with these people, they can protect us...maybe we'll have to join them, more or less, but if we have to join something, that seems better than the alternatives."

[Darqueone]

"Thing is, we can't get the truth of things. I think Ramdin is the only one who didn't lie to me, or withhold the truth... no, wait. He let me think he needed your keys to find you when he knew where you were anyway. So you really can't trust anything to be the truth. So we might hope someone in the Church would tell us the truth about themselves, about what's going on... yeah, we could hope." she shrugs.

"And yeah. For instance, Dr. Spann is from Provance. Ramdin is from India, but I don't really have a frame of reference there to help pinpoint him. I can tell that from their accents. And yes." She strips off a glove and touches him with one move. "Bzzzt." she sends him a faint itch. "Gotcha."

[Wired*Nun]

"Ow. That's creepy. Well, at least it doesn't leave a mark. So...call a taxi?" He pulls out his cell phone.

[Darqueone]

"Yeah, you do that and I'll let them know we're going. We're going and not coming back? Or we're going and we'll let them know?"

[Wired*Nun]

"No reason to burn bridges...just tell them we'll see them later. And tell the doctor, thanks. Even if she has done something else...she fixed what that mob boss did. It's an improvement." He smiles a pained smile, then flips open the phone and calls 411, then a taxi service.

[Darqueone]

Anna echos his smile back to him. "I figured ... yeah. Ok."

She steps out of the room, looking for a nurses desk or some kind of staff.

"Hi, um... I'm Anna Dankov. My brother is Tony Dankov. We're, um, calling for a cab and we're going to take a drive. We'll see you later. Is Dr. Spann available?"

[Darqueone]

Anna leaves a note for Dr. Spann if she's not available, and returns to Tony.

"Listen, the doc did say we should keep you away from significantly emotional work, like domestic counseling or abuse stuff, for a week or so. I figure if my news didn't kill you we should be ok for normal stuff."

"Ok, we're ready to go? Got a cab coming? Cool, want to wait outside? It's nice, for March."

They wait comfortably for the cab until it arrives, and then they're off to the diocese offices.

[Wired*Nun]

"Your news was easy...in a sense. i don't think I've absorbed it...it doesn't seem real yet. Not like sitting right in front of a battered and bruised woman who feels she has no options."

The cab ride is quiet, from Tony's part. He looks out the window, sometimes humming tunelessly. She can see he's processing everything. It's a lot to figure, she knows.

They debouch outside the diocese offices. Tony leads her inside, fending off several people who greet him with various states of surprise or shock. "I have to talk to the Monsignor first, please. Thank you for your concern," is all he will say.

Monsignor Gregory Stein's office is simple, but elegant. There are pictures on one wall of his predecessors who in times past held the office of Judicial Vicar of the Interdiocesan Tribunal of the Province of Baltimore.

Great. A lawyer. Well, maybe that will work in our favor.

The man himself is gray and blading, but vigorous, with a firm handshake and sparkling grey eyes.

"It's great to see you, again, Anthony. We were beginning to get concerned." He's obviously understating the case.

"We've had some disturbing experiences, Monsignor." he initially explains, in outline, a summary of the pure facts of what has happened - her diagnosis, her falling into the hands of criminals, her apparent surgery, and rescue by an unknown benefactor. He also tells of his search, how it led him to the Orabonos' mansion, how he was invited in, then apparently affected in some way so that he couldn't function properly, how he began trying to track down the secrets of the Masons, how he ended up at a hidden library, how Anna found him there and brought him to a psychiatrist.

She notes how much he leaves out - names, specifics. Maybe he's being cautious. Maybe he's been inhibited from saying certain things - Spann did imply some part of the Church didn't look on her with favor.

Tony then turns to Anna, saying, "Anything to add?"

The Reverend Monsignor Stein listens without comment, his eyes searching their faces as he takes it all in.

[Darqueone]

"No." she says quietly.

[Wired*Nun]

"Monsignor...Monsignor, we're just not sure what to do here. How much of this was real, whether there was occult influence...Anna has evidence of surgery, and her symptoms of the tumor seem to have disappeared. We are going to go see Patrick Cullen over at St. Agnes later to get checked out...but I'm more concerned with some...miraculous aspects of these things. For example...Anna has acquired the ability to speak...perhaps read...well, we believe, any language. Without learning it. Perfectly. A polyphonic savant, but more than that. She doesn't just learn them fast, she can just...understand."

Stein purses his lips, flares his nostrils. "That's remarkable. Do you mind if we test this?"

He stands up, reaching for a book on a shelf behind him. It's old, carefully preserved in creaky leather. He hands it to Anna.

"The Church and Canon Law, Relating to the Decisions of the Convocation of Bucharest, 1634," is what the cover reads, in Romanian. It's not even difficult, as the language hadn't split as far from its Latin and Italianate roots in that time, though the old-style printing is a bit strange. Opening to any page, she has no trouble reading or translating it.

[Darqueone]

Anna simply takes the book wtih great respect, opens it at random, and reads aloud.... after a few lines, she considers what lanugage she's actually speaking, and tries it to see if she can switch from the current spoken language to the Romanian or English (whichever she's not using).

[Darqueone]

Then she looks up at the Monsignor and tries speaking in Romanian, using English if that doens't work "Father, as your Oaths hold you, does that convince you?"

[Wired*Nun]

She has no problem speaking the language by reading the test, or translating it as she goes to English.

Stein's tone is brisk. "My spoken Romanian is pretty rusty, but you sounded like a native to me. That is all truly remarkable. But I don't know, at this moment, what to do about it. It's miraculous, in some sense - but what does it mean? Has God chosen you to use this miracle to advance His Church by preaching to the unconverted, or translating texts, or putting the Bible into new languages...or what? All true miracles have a purpose."

He stands up, taking the book back to places it carefully on the shelf. "Or is is instead some natural occurrence, unusual as it is? Some form of savantism brought on by your tumor? We have to find that out, first, before we call for experts within the Church to evaluate the situation. I would be irresponsible if I jumped to conclusions. So, please go see Doctor Cullen, and I will think about this while you do."

[Darqueone]

Anna stands when Stein does. "I'd be honored to serve the Church in any way I can, Father. But yeah... a little more information would be good to have. Can Tony go with me to the doctor? He probably needs a check up too."

[Wired*Nun]

"Absolutely. Anthony, I don't want you doing anything of consequence until you are medically evaluated. Remember also that I or any others of the staff and clergy are always avalable for counseling. You've been through a difficult time; trauma usually has effects we cannot see right away."

"I would also like a written report, confidentially for me only right now, as soon as you feel able."

Tony replies, "Of course, Father Stein. I will also keep you informed as we go along."

They take their leave, and Tony tugs at his collar. "I've been wearing this stuff too long. No, I only mean, without a shower and change of clothes. Do you think it's safe to go back to my place?"

[Darqueone]

"No. Can you shower here or at the parish house or something? Maybe at St. Agnes?"

[Wired*Nun]

He sighs. "Yeah, I guess. You know what, maybe I should just buy something new to wear...yeah. That's what I'll do...drop these of at a cleaner's. And let's get a rental car."

He calls for a rental car company to pick them up from a local franchise, then drives them to a nearby superstore. He picks up some jeans, tennis shoes, a couple of shirts, underwear and socks. Thus armed, they get a room at a nearby budget hotel, where he showers and changes.

"I don't know how long we can avoid notice. Do you think any of these folks will be looking for my credit card purchases? Or at least, any of the bad people? The library folks let us go; I can't do much against some kind of clandestine organization, unless we take sanctuary within the Church...I guess we have to hope and pray and be careful for now."

[Darqueone]

“I don’t know. I feel paranoid but the safest route is to assume that yes, they can and are watching everything.” Anna sighs and swings her legs on the bed of the motel while Tony’s changing in the bathroom.

“Hey, look at the bright side; maybe they’re in the Church too!” Anna’s tone is wry. “That way, they’ll know what we’re up to no matter what.”

“Ok, you ready? Let’s drop your clothes off and get to St. Agnes. We can’t really decide on what we want to do until we get a clean bill of health. At least that’s a starting point.”

Anna rides in the passenger seat, internally frustrated. I guess this is all part of making sure Tony’s ok, but it feels like it’s taking forever. I just want to get ok and be able to move on, make some decisions and get someplace with all this. Hmmmph.

[Wired*Nun]

They drop Tony's clothes off at the cleaners, then drive over to St. Agnes. On the way, Tony calls his friend, Dr. Cullen.

Cullen is a large, florid man with reddish hair, betraying his Celtic roots. In the doctor's cramped office, Tony gives him a summary of the physical aspects - the diagnosed tumor, the apparent unauthorized surgery, his loss and regain ing of cognitive function.

"I've heard of Dr. Spann," he says. "She's worked wonders in some cases."

He rubs his hands together. "Well, let's see what we can do for you. Will this be on the Chruch's tab?" He grins.

"Yes, I suppose so." Tony grins back, weakly.

"All right, let's get you fixed up."

He runs them both through a now-familiar interminable series of tests. They get lunch, then come back for more. Eventually comes the debriefing.

"Good news and bad news. The bad news is, I have no idea what happened to either of you. The good news is, both of you are as healthy as a pair of horses. Tony, there's no evidence of anything organic with you at all - no concussion or scarring of the brain. Anastasia, I can see where they opened up your skull, but the injury looks to be months healed - and you say it was just last week? And there is no evidence of cancer whatsoever, not even in your blood work. Your PET scans shows unusually intense activity in both of your brains..."

He taps his fingertips on his desk in frustration. "I guess this is what you needed to know...but it makes for a puzzle. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Tony replies, "Yes, Pat, there's a lot we're not telling you, but nothing that really bears on the medical issue." He smiles to soften the declaration. "A lot of it has to remain in confidence."

Cullen chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Well...I'd like to hear the story, sometime. When you get it all sorted out."

"That's quite possible," he says diplomatically. They stand up, and take their leave, shaking hands with the puzzled doctor on the way out.

They go back to the car in the parking garage, but Tony doesn't immediately turn the key. "All right...we've ruled out...no, we've haven't really, but but we don't seem to be currently affected by drugs or surgeries or microchips implanted in our brains. We haven't been lobotomized. But I'm at a loss for our next move. If we can't go back to my place...well, that's a lot of my life, there. I can't live in fear and do the Lord's work at the same time. I can ask to be transferred somewhere else; I mean, these people can't care that much about one priest...they're probably more interested in you."

[Darqueone]

"I think you're right." Anna says softly. "Tell you what, let's go back to the Monsignor and let him know. He said he wanted to talk to you, right? Ok, so let's do that next."

And then... she thinks with a silent sigh I'll leave you a note and get going. 'Cause you're right. They're not interested in you as much as they are in me.

Where do I go? I don't have a phone number or anything to contact Thaniel or Ramdin. I guess I go back to Dr. Spann's, because face it... I don't really know how to fix up a secret ID, I'm almost broke, I don't think I have a job anymore, and I need to get away from Tony to keep him safe. To keep everyone safe.

[Wired*Nun]

"OK." He starts up the car, driving slowly and pensively back to the diocese offices.

Once there, he says, "Do you mind if I talk to him alone? I'd like to give him more information, under the seal of the Confessional. He's a good man; he'll have a good idea what to do, I believe."

[Darqueone]

Anna nods. "No problem, I thought that would be the best thing. I'm going to grab some coffee, ok?"

Anna does that from the coffee station and then asks someone for a pen and paper.

"Dear Tony,
Love you, but I'm going to take off. You're right, they're after me not you. The Church can help protect you. I needed to make sure you were safe, but I've got some ideas to help myself, and I need time to figure out what's going on and what I want to do. Don't call unless there's an emergency, but at the moment I'm heading back to where we were. I'll go from there. Be safe, and keep an eye on the rest of the family, ok? I love you, big bro. I'll be in touch. -A."

She uses the desk phone to call a cab, and folds the note carefully. "Excuse me, ma'm, could you give this note to Father Dankov when he comes out?" she asks the secretary, handing it over. "Thanks."

She steps outside to wait for the cab, and when it arrives she gives him the name of Dr. Spann's private practice asylum.

Once there, she gives her name to the receptionist and asks for Dr. Spann.

[Wired*Nun]

...I've started it too. I gave him only a half-truth, for his own good.

All the way back to Stillewald she wrestles with her conscience, trying to square her own actions with her principles.

Soon enough she finds herself at the reception desk she saw but bypassed when they first arrived, with a pleasantly elegant waiting-room attached.

"Just a moment, I'll page her. It may be a bit."

It turned out to be about twenty-five figety minutes until the doctor arrives, wearing a lab coat over her skirt-suit. She smiles a genuine smile, and takes Anna's gloved hands in hers in a very French gesture. "It's good to see you again; you look like you have questions. Would you like to have some dinner? Here or elsewhere - I know every restaurant within ten miles?"

[Darqueone]

"I don't want to take up your time, Doctor. I understand how busy you've been." Anna pauses. "Actually, I think I came back because I don't really have anywhere else to go. At least, not that I can get back into."

After a moment of contemplation, Anna says "I guess dinner would be good, ma'm, but the only question I'd have for you is... what the hell's going on?"

[Wired*Nun]

She squeezes Anna's hands, hanging on to them in a motherly way. "Poor thing. It's very difficult, isn't it?" She puts Anna's hands together, one on top of the other, then pats them. "Come, everything is better over la cuisine belle, et les vins. We shall dine in, then."

Soon then are seated in her private dining room again, with a meal of several courses on the way. Joann pours the vin rose herself, then toasts. "To newness and beginnings. They only come once. Now," she starts, tapping lightly on the glass with her short manicured nail, "you ask me what the 'ell is going on. That is a very tall order. Where would you like me to start? With the myths, legends and story of our people? Or with the current situation and threats to your existence? Or somewhere else?"

[Darqueone]

Anna returns her toast with a glass of iced tea. "I wouldn't ask the lost for directions; start wherever you think is best." And she picks at her appitizer, watching the doctor.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ah, Americans." This seems to be referring to her choice of beverage.

"I really don't know what you want. I don't know what you know, or have been told. Are you asking for advice? My advice is the same - stay here, where you are safe, for a time. I can tell you everything I know - well, a great deal, anyway. But I do not know if you will just leave again after dinner, so you ask me to tell you what is most important, yes?"

She forks in a mouthful of something, then washes it down with the rest of the glass of wine. "All right. I will begin as best I can."

"You died and you chose to return to this world. Now you must figure out what that choice means."

She taps her plate with her fork, then goes on. "There is a cosmic struggle going on, between Good and Evil - the same old struggle between Satan and God's divine plan. We both know that the War is already won - just as when the Allies landed on the Normandy Coast, Hitler's doom was foreordained. But many good soldiers were yet to die, and not all battles were won...and some on the side of evil acted with great honor, while some on the side of good acted shamefully. Are you with me so far?"

[Darqueone]

"Yes, ma'm." Anna listens. Assume this is what she believes...

[Wired*Nun]

"Then you - and I - have our parts to play in the grand drama. You have been granted greater power and greater responsibility than the footsoldiers - what will you do with it? That is your choice, and your question."

"I believe the Atonement of Our Lord was for all mankind. I believe in the end we will all be judged, based on our deeds...because I do not believe we are, any more, mankind. We are something else altogether. We are Nephilim."

"But perhaps you will not accept this. Does it really matter? If your sins are paid for, you are called to be sanctified; you are called to obedience to God and His divine plan to bring Evil to its final defeat. If they are not - if you will stand before God the Father on the Final Day and be judged - you will still be judged on your obedience to Him. I see no difference, no matter how you split the hairs."

"Does that help you any?"

[Darqueone]

"It certainly gives me some insight." Anna says truthfully. "I appreciate your sharing with me. I've heard a lot of terms in the last few weeks. 'Nephilim', 'Conversion', 'Narcs'... it's a lot to take in. do you think there's any other terms, or teams, I should know?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, there is endless knowledge and lore. There is more being discovered all the time. The Flood wiped out so much, it is believed...well, I am not so old as to know personally." She smiles.

"Eldest. That's what one of the old ones are called, from before the Flood. That survived it. They are often the leaders of factions within major cities."

"Elder. That's a more general term for and old, powerful Neph."

"Youngling. That's you. Recently Converted."

"Final. That means permanently dead - destruction of the brain generally does it."

"Altruist - that's what I am. You might say we're the good ones."

"Narcissist - those are the evil ones, like kidnapped you."

"Outsiders - those who do not belong to any faction."

"LightSiders - those who decided to make a faction after not joining ours. Generally, they use questionable means to achieve what they believe are good ends."

"DarkSiders - those who are generally narcissistic and selfish, but not so evil that one would consider them so."

"Now that your mind is turning, what else would you know?"

[Darqueone]

"Mr. Thaniel would be an Outsider?"

After a few minutes of thought, Anna asks "What am I supposed to do now?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ahh, Muertin. He is...definitely an Outsider. Some consider him a Darksider, some a Lightsider...and he refuses to define himself. He acts for his own purposes, some of which are influenced by his ancestry. I understand you might be a descendant of his, through the mortal line? But this means less than it might, as there has never been any proven spiritual descent...beyond the initial Watcher-human matings, and I suppose one can't call that proven either. But every Eldest claims to know his or her parentage. Muertin's is interesting...he claims to be the son of Thanosel himself."

After a few minutes of thought, Anna asks "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Do? Live life. Choose a role, or a side...seek the guidance of Elohim. Would you like to work with me?"

[Darqueone]

Anna bites. "Who's Thanosel? Is 'Watcher' another word for fallen angel?"

"Everyone I've talked to has said that sooner or later, likely sooner, one side or the other's going to come 'get' me if I don't choose a side. How is that supposed to be a life?"

"For that matter, if what I've been told is correct, I don't really have a life to live so much as an endless eternity of watching my back."

"What I really want is ..." she pauses "I want..."

"I want things to be normal again. I don't want to be running in fear from a psychotic midget on every corner. I want to have a good paying job with benefits, I want to be safe and for my family to be safe, I'd like to grow up and get married and have a family someday."

"Which, if what I've been told is true, is going to be pretty damn difficult now."

[Wired*Nun]

"In the Book of Enoch, they were called 'Watchers' - angels whose task it was to watch over mankind, but instead took advantage of them. Some see this as a separate fall, after Luciel Lightbearer led the Great Rebellion, thereafter to be retitled Satan. Thanosel was not one of the Watchers...rather, he was - is - of the Cherubim, the most powerful of archangels. He is the Angel of Death; the Reaper. He was allowed to enter the mortal world by the Fall of Man, then defected later. Yet he still is believed to do the bidding of the Most High from time to time, and has never acknowledged Lucifer's authority. Thus, one might say he is the first of the Outsiders; and, if the lore is to be believed, bore at least the one son in his image."


"Everyone I've talked to has said that sooner or later, likely sooner, one side or the other's going to come 'get' me if I don't choose a side. How is that supposed to be a life?"


"You can choose to be an Outsider. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. Perhaps not a side, but a role. You might be ignored, but if you gain any sort of influence, you will be approached, tempted, politicked, threatened...the rule of law is very thin in our society."

"That's why most Neph join some sort of established structure or faction. It cuts down on the stress, to know that others are looking out for you, even if by vendetta. We are, in may ways, still feudal."

What I really want is ..." she pauses "I want..."

"I want things to be normal again. I don't want to be running in fear from a psychotic midget on every corner. I want to have a good paying job with benefits, I want to be safe and for my family to be safe, I'd like to grow up and get married and have a family someday."

"Which, if what I've been told is true, is going to be pretty damn difficult now."

"Then clearly, you have to live in a Bastion of Altruism. You have to integrate into our structure, support the Eldest and Champion...and you and any family will, generally, be fairly safe. Just as safe as the average mortal in a big city, if you live prudently."

"The difference may be that you will be called upon for extraordinary tasks from time to time; even to put yourself at great risk, if the need is also great. But your family - and your sanity - will remain as safe as we can make them."

[Darqueone]

Anna smiles grimly. And handily enough, she's an Altruist! Son of a gun!! And she quotes Rush!

"Due respect, ma'm, I'm not sure how putting myself at great risk would help anyone. I can translate and give people a shock. Not exactly shock troop material. I've got a deep seated concern about being canon fodder; I'm not trained for it.

"Do I have to believe what you do? Like... the history, or mythology, or whatever?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Believe what you like - there are no heretics among us Altruists. You will believe what you believe as you see evidence or hear the stories. Most Altruists aren't Catholic - so we already don't believe like they do. Altruism is about what you do - your behavior, your deeds. Doing what's right. The moral law of God is written into everyone's heart. Creation manifests His workmanship. You may have lively debates over the theology or mythology or legendology, but no one is going to take a cattle prod to you if you don't agree. I can't say as much for the Narcissists."

She starts in on her main course, some kind of red meat in clear gravy. "And you can always decide later to chart your own way. We're not a cult...no more than the Church is. We're not even a religion. We're more like...a not-so-secret society."

[Darqueone]

"Yeah, I'm starting to think that 'Highlander' was a major leak for you folks."

"What about the other factions? Lightsab...siders, and the Dark side? Do they need philosophical conformity?"

(OOC - feel free to edit this but when I saw 'red meat in clear gravy' I first though of that 'Gravy Clear' faux ad from Phil Hartman era SNL. I stared a while until I decided to mentally make it 'au jus'; thanks for the GIGGLE!!)

[Wired*Nun]

"I could have chopped off all of their heads, were they to have existed." She laughs merrily. "Hollywood seldom had a notion of real medieval combat."

"What about the other factions? Lightsab...siders, and the Dark side? Do they need philosophical conformity?"

"Philosophical? If you define it as agreement of purpose rather than methods. Not of beliefs about the origins of things."

[Darqueone]

Anna takes a deep-not-quite-a-sigh. "Ok, I mean do you have to believe what they do to join them?"

[Wired*Nun]

"No, my dear. Just because our religion is come to life, doesn't mean it IS a religion." She polishes off another glass of wine, and chuckles, rolling her finger around the rim of the glass.

"You may have to be diplomatic, depending on who you're talking to. Many have dearly-held beliefs - and some believe even in nothing quite fervently." She leans forward, putting her elbows on her lap and her fists under her chin. "Like with most good-willed people, if you treat them like you'd like to be treated, they will treat you well in turn. That's not so hard."

[Darqueone]

"Ok. Just...trying to figure things out." Anna sighs. "It's...weird. I had a job, and apartment, and kind of a life. Now... I don't have any of that." She's quiet a moment. "I guess I need to start over. Get a job, then a place to live. S'how I did it after college."

"Don't suppose I could really go to monsters.com, though...huh. Could I?"

[Wired*Nun]

"You keep coming back to that illusion of normalcy...but it is that you must abandon. I suspect you are still in denial. You must first make a decision about your affiliation - or nonaffiliation. I will help you from there. Jobs are easy. Money will come easily. They are therefore no longer important."

She stands, then sits back down on the chair, knees under her.

"I can help you with that denial problem...if you wish." Her expression is mischievous.

[Darqueone]

Anna is instantly suspicious. "Root around in my head?"

[Wired*Nun]

She laughs out loud. "Not if you don't wish it. No, something much more mundane."

"I can show you who I really am. And I can teach you how to see who you really are."

[Darqueone]

!!! Anna thinks Who she really is? And who I am? Then the second-guessing Or, who she believes she is and who she wants me to think I am. Or ...?

"How?" Anna tries not so seem insultingly suspicious, but is definately not on the trust-you-with-my-beer side of things.

[Wired*Nun]

She stands, spreading her arms slightly from her sides, palms out, rather like many icons or portraits of Christ or saints. A glow grows from her body outward, filling the room with light. It fades slightly to reveal someone quite different-looking from the fleshly Doctor Spann.

A young woman in chain mail stands before Anna - somehow combining the appearance of youth with the impression of age and compassion. Her face is angelic, serene, yet somehow possessed of a tremendous faith and confidence. It makes Anna's eyes hurt to look at her, like gazing into the bright morning sun.

She carries a shining sword in her right hand, and a shield in her left. The shield face is spotless white, emblazoned with a blue cross picked out with fleur-de-lis.

"This is my true self, Anastasia. The flesh is just clothing we wear. Beneath, we are beings of God-given light and glory, made only a little lower than the angels." Her voice is rich and full, and Anna aches to hear it.

[Darqueone]

Anna sits there, stunned, for a long moment. Then she whispers "Are you the Maid, or are you using her form to make a point?"

[Wired*Nun]

"This is my true form. I am she. But I am no saint, despite being venerated as one. This is simply who I am."

[Darqueone]

Anna takes a deep breath, and swallows. "Ok. That's who you are. What do you want of me?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I just want to to accept who you have become. Do you want to find out?"

[Darqueone]

"I don't know." whispered.

[Wired*Nun]

Joanne - Jeanne? Joan? - reverts to her mortal appearance, the dimming of a floodlight. She draws over her chair to Anna's and puts her arms around her shoulders, being careful not to touch cheek to cheek. Her hands are warm on Anna's back; she finds that she is craving a human touch, now that it has become problematic.

She whispers in Anna's ear. "Dear thing. It's overwhelming, I know. You need some time to pray and think about everything. This is a place of sanctuary; take all the time you need."

[Darqueone]

Anna shivers, not quite sure how she feels about being held by a 600 year old Saint. "Thank you." she says quietly. "Are you sure these powers don't come with a manual or some kind of instruction book?" a weak attempt at humor that expresses her fears.

[Wired*Nun]

"I always turn to scripture...and good counsel. But no, not specifically...life is the same, whetever Gifts you are granted. A series of difficult choices. Every day is a summoning of the strength to go on."

She sits back a bit, patting Anna's knee. "Or...you can give up. But you wouldn't have come back if you weren't strong enough to make that choice."

[Darqueone]

"Yeah... I mean, yes." Anna corrects herself thoughtfully. "You have a point." she wipes her lips and puts her napkin aside. "Ma'm, would you excuse me?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course." She stands and slides her chair out of the way. "To the right, down the hall..."