Welcome to Gaia! ::

Karaskis looked over the room, it sat mostly empty. Yaxha was showing the gypsies that had shown up from her clan what there was to see and explaining things, taking the girls with her Kaelin's rooms were fairly quiet; the god it seemed had found some other business to be on.

Erzulie found a place to rest against the wall, her arm was still bandaged but had been healing. Her expression was controlled and neutral if not somewhat bored; the demons that had been causing problems had subsided much to the relief of many but the warrior in her was not allowing itself to rest and instead seemed restless. Ashe stood back his hair that curled into flames bringing some light to the back wall but other then that he stood obscured, Jadá and Kalfyra where shut away in one of the side rooms preparing what they could with the remainder of the food; soft bickering gave away their location at times.

She had left a message to Ankou and those others that may be interested, and had let Faran know that they would see what they could do for him. The human's lack of care for belief still troubled her and she wondered if she could ever bring it to him. With a sigh she knew she would have to go speak to him it was almost time to meet one of those that could make this over for him...

Taj walked into the room, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around. He watched Karaskis a moment, a smile twitching across his lips before he walked forwards to take her hand.

"Is everything ready, Lady Karaskis?" Saljin asked as he glanced around at everyone. "Do they really know how to do this? I mean... I guess..." He ran a hand through his long silky raven hair and shrugged, violet eyes amused. "I've heard and seen stranger things than what Taj explained, but I'll do whatever I can to help."

The oni, Hagenti and Anji, were tending the dolls still. They had asked Taj to obscure their boxes to keep them away from other eyes for the moment. He had agreed but they were seldom seen amongst the others around though Delphine and Triq were around and playing with the small creatures they found. All of which Mystery found amusing as they tried to figure out what to do about Faran and Aristogeiton.

Hopefully He would be back soon. But if not then perhaps Ari could give them a clue on what to do to bring him back. For now he was their only chance, though the recent influx of people may lead to more options. More options gave them more chances not just for things to go right, but it was all they could do for now.

Glancing over to Taj she lifts his hand up and kisses his knuckles lightly. "I'm going to talk to Faran hopefully Ankou will be here soon. Nergal seems to believe his brother will be able to do...something." The goddess frowned faintly more to herself then anyone else, she didn't know where to start and wasn't sure what Underworld and Spirit Guide might provide. Letting Taj's hand go somewhat reluctantly she headed toward the small room where she had met with Faran before; of all the things she was just glad he hadn't made a run for it yet.

Knocking slightly before she pushed the door open she peered in speaking softly, "Faran, of what we talked of before. There is someone coming that may be able to gain insight into the piece of another that you have." She didn't let it show...but there was worry, what if Faran wasn't just holding a piece but was entirely the piece. No matter how frustrating and set against believing the human was it did not ring right to sacrifice one life for the life of another that may not even be retrievable.

Saljin was closest to the door and moved when someone knocked. It was not their rooms but someone needed to answer. He opened it, watching the one there for a moment. "I'm Saljin. How may I help you?" The god Ankou was the one they were waiting upon and none had met him yet. This may or may not be he.






At the sound of his name, Taj turned around to glance out the doorway. He motioned the man into the room after catching Saljin's eye. Suddenly certain that this was Ankou, he moved forwards to meet him.

Saljin bowed slightly stepping to the side so that Ankou could enter. "Mystery does not speak, my Lord. And you may only get cryptic words from him when he does." A faint smile on his lips as he gave the god the information he gave to all. "Lady Karaskis has gone to speak to Faran."

Faran hated this waiting game. Waiting on his captors to get their s**t together continue half-responding and half-listening. Waiting on them to figure out their story to try to get him to perform some unexplained task.
Waiting for more vagaries and uncertain glances. Nerves and teeth sucking.

When the scorch-faced woman appeared again, the corner of his nose twinged with disgust.

"And will I be seeing this person now, later, in this room or out there somewhere?"

Karaskis arched a brow at Faran, he was becoming an annoyance. A rather selfish one at that, they had many mortals within the rooms for safety as well as the demonic forces and now a disappearing sky to think of.

Keep in mind he doesn't believe, and he feels kept as a slave still.

Perhaps, but we haven't the time to coddle.

"Yes there is someone here to speak to you, perhaps find some answer. If you are willing he I believe has just arrived." Turning slightly Karaskis motioned to the door allowing him to pass if he wished to. Her own irritation over the whole set of circumstances leaving her without much else to add especially in the way of pleasantries.

Somewhat conflicted on the matter the part of her mind where Cinder resided stayed silent.

Faran gave a curt nod of thanks as he stood up and then went out.

With any luck, never to return to that room or its other occupants. If his luck held out, he may even get out of the building in the end.

never look on these faces ever again.

Pausing a moment to give Faran and Ankou a moment to look each other over she stepped to the side, "I'm ready to help with whatever you require," glancing to Faran she then gestured to Ankou, "Faran this is Ankou, I believe he is going to attempt to pull the piece of the soul of another that you carry from you."

Karaskis glanced to Ankou after speaking unsure of what else to say, she wasn't sure of the specifics as they seemed far from anything she was familiar with. Personally she hoped that Faran wouldn't be too biting toward the other God just to make whatever the process was go more smoothly.

Nodding, Taj simply stepped to the side to watch and wait. Hopefully Ankou would be able to pull the fragment free. To hold it. Perhaps even Faran's attitude would change at that point. But they could ill afford the soul piece to slip away from them and to get lost. It was unknown how much time they had before Gehenna stepped out of the pod. All they could do was hope that they had ways that when all fit together prevented it.

He motioned for Saljin to remain out of the way. But he wanted the shifter to be ready in case he was needed to help. The rest had drifted away at his indication, but Saljin moved to the side ready to do whatever he could to help.

Faran stopped before the waiting others, obviously this wasn't a far jaunt then...
Something approaching a pleasantry passed.

"Ready."




To all sight, spirit or otherwise, there was no 'fragment'. Faran's soul was whole, a single piece, resembling neither a cut pie nor a broken mirror, or any other pieced analogy that the still human mind of the Guide coudl come up with. The soul was one soul: Faran.

There were not other outward signs, no symbols, no special glow or runes, to denote anything remarkable about the engineer. There was only the knowledge that it was to him the staff had pointed.

Nergal slipped into the room quietly, without anyone taking notice of his presence, or so it seemed. At least, no one was greeting him, and the attention of everyone present seemed to be focused on either his brother, or the mortal in front of him. Which was a relief, of sorts. Being late was quite untypical of him, being an hour early would have been much more common in the past. When he did not have children of his own yet, especially not that vivid green little devil bearing the name Sotiris.

So..

This was him? The supposed most recent incarnation of Aristogeiton?

Underworld tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing, observing only for the time being. The mortal seemed.. quite ordinary, really, no different from all the other mortals he had come across. Though, admittedly, they all had had qualities of their own.

Nergal only ever shifted when he realized something apparently was amiss.

His brother seemed tense, but it seemed from surprise, shock even, rather than focusing on pulling and retaining the fragment of one's soul.

"What is it?" Nergal inquired softly, moving to his brother's side. Yes, judging from his expression, things weren't quite going as planned, or hoped for.

On the contrary.

"Well." Nergal paused, considering his brother's question. One of the fragments found - the one he had found, actually - had after all been a body wholly without a soul.

"I suppose it does not have to be that way, though admittedly everyone seemed to take it for granted. Myself being no exception from this." That bad habit had been part of him ever since his rebirth, to jump to conclusions, to assume too much. "Why do you ask?"

Nergal made no attempt to keep his voice low, or to a whisper even. What was said was for everyone's ears, including that mortal's. That Ankou seemed so secretive.. His brows pulled down, ever so slightly. Mystery and Fire had given the impression they would tell the man what this was about. Hadn't they?

He bit back the urge to inquire if they were sure this even was the man. They'd had the pendant. And there were other ways to verify this.

Karaskis inclined her head in a brief greeting to Nergal. Hearing Underworld's words she frowned faintly and glanced to Faran, after speaking to him on various occasions she could only guess how he would react to this. She had not heard Ankou's words to his brother but Nergal's seemed to illustrate some issue.

The soul isn't fragmented... it is what they had assumed and spoke of after all.

Well the other pieces aren't really souly looking, are they? Although somewhat more quiet from the blending Cinder's mind was still independent.

Karaskis truthfully had no way to tell, frowning she considered the other pieces and glanced toward the brothers. "Ankou what of the other pieces, how do they appear to you?"

Moving over toward the side Karaskis put in the three lined, twenty seven digit code into the grav-lock chest. The chest slide open with the soft sound of air rushing into the sealed area within. Inside was the bones of the welpling and the amulet.

Most the other stuff is physical, you do have a crazy spirit but amulet, bones, scepter, er that mandrake thing...all physical. Cinder turned her gaze toward Faran a moment thoughtfully, something that Karaskis found to be more then slightly annoying but for now the Goddess let her host have some more control. It seemed she was onto something.

"Perhaps all of Faran is the piece?" Karaskis frowned faintly the mortal would not take well to such information. And then the will and voice of Cinder interrupted anymore she was about to say, "or he is carrying it."

Taj blinked in surprise but then remained watching Faran. Was he the entire piece? Was his attitude so bad because he was only a piece of his former self? What would happen to him now? There had to be some way to repair what Samyaza had done. But would Ari be the same once he had been? This was getting more complicated now with the pieces than retrieving them had been.

*Taj, what will you do if it calls for Faran to be sacrificed?* Jaster stirred slightly. He had made the choice himself. Would Faran do the same?

*I don't know, Jaster. I honestly don't know. I can't think they would take his will away, but I remember what He said about some being kind. Others cruel. It could come down to that, but I don't think... I just don't know.* Would it come down to that? Or was there something they were missing?

He watched Kara open the chest with the items within. Maybe something would happen once everything was together. Maybe not. All he could do was try to support whatever happened. Within reason.

You didn't have to be a genius to read obvious uncertainty or confusion. There were no bells or whistles, and this wasn't progressing any faster then the already snail's pace adapted some time ago.

All of Faran is the piece?

All the problems in the world for a bunch of 'gods' who didn't even know their own mythology. Some gods.

"How reassuring."
He waited, watching as the woman got some junk out of a locker and offered it to the new close-lipped wonder. More smoke and mirrors were certain to abound. More hoops to jump through. He wasn't getting out of this on any terms of theirs at all, that was plain enough. If it came to it, he'd have to do what he already hadn't had the courage to do back with the slavers. He just didn't have it in him to bite off his own tongue or find some strength to break his own neck....or something equally so drastic. He wanted life. He always had. Life and the thrum of machines around him like living in the throat of a purring cat. Hair-trigger adjustments and upgrades, puzzles and get-aways to engineer through his expertise in the machines room of a starliner. Maybe own a dock someday, where he could be the chief service engineer. How that dream made him a necessary cog in the idiot machinations of this freakshow was a everygrowing cloud of mystery and despair.

He slowly sank down to sit on his heels in a kneel, heedless of the location or company. They all just felt like weight, heavier gravity anyway, each syllable another nail in some inevitable coffin of Bizarre.
He wanted to ask 'so what now?', but they likely didn't know the answer, would give him an excuse, trade it to someone else, or just not answer. The latter the most likely. Ignore it and just talk about something else, not even notice that he had said something. It wasn't worth it.

So he'd just have to wait for their pronouncements and figurings. Might be some stupid surgery or drink some drugged liquid and that would be that.

Nergal nodded slowly, gazing upon the pendant and the bones, then back at the young engineer. He could sympathize with him, somewhat. He knew what it felt like to be held captive.

After all the talk of 'fragments'..

"A droplet of water, be it joined with- or divided from another, will still be a droplet of water." He didn't really think about it before he spoke, but it made sense, once he'd said it, to him at least. Things could be whole, yet fragments of something larger the same. If only this was as simple as joining two handfuls of water. Perhaps it was. Had he not seen the life flames of his own children merge in a similar way?

Then again, they had not been bound to obj-- He stopped short before he could finish that thought. These 'objects' had all been alive once, and life was what was absent from all of them, except for this one.

He picked up the pendant, turning it over. Runes on the front, and runes on the back He remembered it, though not the occasion on which he had seen it. He'd never known there was an inscription on the back though, and he could read neither of them.

What would Aislin do? he found himself wondering. That woman's ways, while she seemed to be suffering from the same inability to adapt to change such as him, had been refreshingly unconventional. That, and she'd had a good deal more of common sense than he possessed himself, it seemed.

'I'd do something, instead of zoning out and trying to stare holes into the air, that's for sure.' The thought was so clear, so her, that he found himself checking by reflex if her soul really was fully gone. He still had no clear recollection of what had happened in the lapse of time between poor Annie being buried alive and himself coming to in Echo's rooms.

Do something, he repeated in his mind.

"We have not yet brought all of the pieces together," he pointed out. "Something might happen, if we do. If they are in close vicinity to each other." Nature taking its course, or something. It seemed silly, but trying was preferable over standstill, stagnation. He'd had enough of the latter. It had killed him. "All of the other fragments are there. The scepter as well, in case we need to verify things. And the spectre guarding the Body," (or holding its wake, it seemed more like at times), "Endenis - she used to know him. Her memory is.. incomplete, but better than mine at least. She may be able to recall something of importance. Something which might help us."

His gaze lingered on Faran again. Some sorry excuse for Gods we are, he thought. Look at us, clueless, hapless. No small wonder we all faded. He missed the times when he had just known, when there had been no doubt in his heart.

"You," he said. "Faran. If you would follow me? Please," he added as an afterthought. "I do not know what - or how much - the others told you, but if you actually care to know, I shall recapitulate, and not hold anything back." He paused. "However silly and incredible it may sound to your ears," he added. He could feel that man's Unbelief like something almost substantial, just like back then when he had encountered Illario.

Still...

'It mattered not the incarnation. We knew them all well, bodied male or female, one in five years would be spent in the halls of the starless lands by choice. By choice!'

If there truly was anything of him left within that man..

Karaskis stood standing with a slight frown on her face as they spoke back and forth, hearing Nergal she smirked faintly to herself before shaking her head and taking on a more neutral expression. She wondered if the mortal would like to know and to see more from Underworld, she hated keeping him here but if there was something they could do...anything, she knew they had to do it.

"I'll bring the bones," moving over toward the grav lock chest she hit the keypad letting the top slide back onto it before picking it up. It was heavy but even without the cybernetics Cinder's body was strong.

Cinder's own disapproval over the whole thing was growing, the conscious of her host shifting uncomfortably within her mind. Karaskis sighed and pushed the uncomfortableness away before moving toward the door standing to the side allowing Faran to go first and follow Nergal as well as the others that may wish to come.

Taj nodded to Saljin to remain and keep an eye on things while he fell into step beside Karaskis. At least there would be an extra pair of hands should she decide to pass the box off. His lips twitched. He'd have offered to carry it for her, but was sure she'd growl in irritation at him. More Cinder than Kara in that case. A feeling of uneasiness about the entire thing made him wonder again at Faran as well as when that creature that had set this all in motion would appear again.

But the thing that bothered him most was did any of them really have a clue how to put Aristogeiton back together or were they all simply guessing? Playing Frankenstein as it were. He guessed they would find out sooner or later if they had done it properly.

They were indeed talking to themselves, none having noticed that he had ceased to be standing. More uncertainties traded which involved the bizarre, pale man who looked like he belonged to some comic book breed of villan.

"You," he said. "Faran. If you would follow me? Please,"

Faran barely heard the words outside the echo of his own beating heart. He felt dizzy and heavy at the same time. His voice answered without his brain calling on his lips to move. "If someone could help me up? I want to know."

Without hesitation at the sound of Faran's words, Taj turned back to him. He had not noticed and bowed apologetically, then offered his help to the man. Had Faran simply gone weak at the knees at the thought or was something more wrong with him? Had the jewel and the bones affected him in some way they had not understood? Whatever happened he was ready to support the man physically if he needed to. Saljin would help also if they needed him to. Sliding his arm around Faran, he attempted to pull him upwards gently but firmly. Taj indicated that he could lean on him if necessary.

"No....I'm well enough. No more delays. I want to follow. I want to hear what he has to say, with these....other pieces."

Seeing that Taj had gotten Faran Karaskis waited for Nergal to lead the way carrying the burden of the chest that held the bones and the pendant. She hoped that Nergal and Ankou might shed some light or that the pieces would once they were together. Ideas of how to use such seemingly random pieces didn't settle well with her and likely wouldn't with the mortal bound within the web. "Just lead and I will follow, this has been delayed far too long."

„So be it.“ Underworld inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, waiting for a little while for everyone to get ready before he caught up to his brother in two quick, silent strides, walking alongside him now. Not entirely insensitive to his sibling's unease, he reached out to lightly touch upon Ankou's shoulder, atypically seeking physical contact.

„We have all been walking this world blind and deaf since our rebirth, naught but improvising from the start,“ he said quietly, the words meant for his brother's ears only. Though, if the others overheard, he did not care. „I loathe it. I like the paths of fate being laid out and set, events taking place as foretold, all in order. All as it should be. And yet,“ he offered a small smile, „it has gone not too bad for me, improvising.“ It will work out, was what he meant to say. Underworld, regardless of his glum and dreary appearance, was quite an optimist.

He gave one small nod before he let go of the other's shoulder, slowing down in his steps a little and leaving it to Ankou to lead the way. „It is not far from here,“ he announced, indicating one of the doors ahead of them, „only a little further down the hallway. The tale I have to tell, however, will likely be a long and dreary one. I will try to make it short, but story telling clearly is not my forte.“

„Verdicts are,“ he added dryly, after a small pause.

He fell silent, wondering how to best begin. Music, or Love even, would be much more fit to play this role, their words captivating and source of inspiration – something he certainly wasn't capable of. He was saved from this, for a little while at least, when they arrived that the door to the Spirit Guide's rooms.

Much to his relief, the aoidei had successfully managed to mostly clean up the mess the children had left, and the little ones themselves were nowhere to be seen – still napping, he hoped. There was no sight of Echo as well, but that had been a common occurence in the past few days, with her preparing for the Ritual.

„Priya,“ he ordered quietly, causing the white-haired feline to look up from her task of picking up the broken crayons strewn about, „a chair to the back room for that man. And have one of the others prepare some tea.“ She nodded, glancing at the group curiously before she remembered her duties and headed off.

The dimly lit chamber had quite obviously been partially used as a storage room, the current circumstances of too many people living in the Spirit Guide's quarters leaving them with little other choice. There was a large table at the far end of it, bearing the shroud covered shape of a human body. The vessel of blood gained from the Grigori had been placed next to it, as had the mandrake root and the scepter. The shaman's ghost … Nergal stretched out his senses. Roaming, but fairly close by, never straying far from the fetish that had been his.

He stepped aside to make place for Karaskis and the others to enter, indicating her to place the chest next to the other 'fragments' while he turned his focus on biding the ghost to join them. A struggle of will against will, a crazed, almost inaudible whisper, candle flames flickering madly for a moment with no draft apparent to disturb them … Nergal gave a satisfied nod. All the pieces were present now.

„These are the other fragments,“ he said quietly, gray eyes scanning Faran's face for a moment to gauge his reaction. „Take a look at them, if you like. Albeit one of them should not be visible to your eyes. Few possess the gift to see the Dead.“ But the shaman's presence was an exceptionally strong one, and very close to his own influence right now. Perhaps …

There was a sharp knock against the door frame demanding his attention, Priya having arrived with a chair. Nergal motioned her to bring it in, nesting himself on the edge of one of the larger crates. Hopefully the others would not mind doing so as well, or simply remain standing, but the room wasn't really of a size fit to allow any more seats.

Taj had merely followed, helping Faran gently as needed. He wanted to know the rest of what was going on. Sometimes there were blurry images of things long past on the fringes of his memory but nothing solid he could grasp. He knew he had not been around as much as he should have then. Now was different and with Jaster he had begun to understand he needed to be. It would not be long before Jaster faded entirely. He would have to speak to him again before it was too late. Both were simply happy to be allowed to help.

His eyes took in the table and things there and a faint twitch of the lips was the only indication that a thought had amused him. This could be considered some sort of creepy room of horror with the body, bones, and mandrake so closely together. With Faran as the not-so-willing victim, but drawn with an intense fascination that could almost be considered macabre. A name came to mind but slipped away from him. It had been one of Jaster's memories of a book.

Jaster suddenly chuckled, stirring faintly to look outwards with Taj. Frankenstein, Taj. But somehow I don't see Faran and these items being stitched together. Nor an electrical generator or a god of lightning to shock him back to life.

Keeping his humor to himself, Taj turned back to listen to Nergal. He was quite certain that his thoughts would not be found amusing to anyone else at the moment. And this was no time for irreverence.

Karaskis moved to the side setting the chest down, she then went about punching in the code to open it up. Hearing Nergal's offer to Faran she stepped to the side so he could have a look if he wished.

Curiously she glanced over the area, wanting a glimpse of the piece that only those affiliated with the dead could see. Moving to the side the goddess chose to stand her eyes drifting over the others in the room.

She hoped that something would be revealed, now with all of them gathered it almost seemed like some joke. Wildly unfitting puzzle pieces strewn out in challenge.

„The reason to this,“ he began, pale hands folding in his lap, „is – in essence – a love story. A very long time ago, a mortal prince, Aristogeiton, won the Twin Crown's heart. The pendant you see was his.“ He glanced at Fire for a moment, hoping she'd interrupt him, should his narration prove to be incorrect. She was the one to have gone through Panacea's journals, not him. Much of his own knowledge was incomplete and only second-hand. „The Twin Crown,” he felt the need to elaborate, „that would be the aspect of Creation and Destruction. The first of us to exist, and the only one to remain when all others waned and faded, until he found a way to enable our rebirth. God, if you so want.”

„We are all gods, the others may have told you, albeit recently reborn and not in possession of our full powers. Hence the awkwardness and obvious helplessness in face of the current situation.“

„Fire. Mystery. Spirit Guide.” He indicated each of the ones present, intent on doing things the proper way, even though the mortal might care little for formal introductions. „I am Underworld. If you doubt … I do figure I could kill you and then we do this conversation over again.” That had been, perhaps, his idea of a joke. Or maybe not.

„A spell was crafted for Aristogeiton, tied to that amulet,“ Nergal picked up the previous thread.

„I love thee Untarnished,
Unwithered,
make us free
Love being quest
and quarrel,
that you may always find me.“

„That is what the inscription says supposedly. I have to admit, I cannot read it.”

„After he died, he would be reborn, to rejoin the Twin Crown's side as his consort. The name would be different, even the gender might be, but it would always be the same person. How often he was reborn in all, I do not know, but the spell worked without fail until …” He shook his head.

„In his last incarnation, he died before his time, his health failing quite suddenly and none of the gods able to halt his demise. Worse even, the amulet's magic had waned, and would no longer be guide to find his soul. There was, or at least seemed to be, no further rebirth. The scepter you see served as replacement to aide and point the way, but the search party never returned.”

„The search was picked up again in this new Age, by several people, for a number of reasons. I have my own, but most – I think – were hoping that the consort's presence would help restore balance, as it previously had. In the past two – no, almost three years even – the Crown's influence has solely been that of Destruction. Even you must have noticed.”

„It was then it became evident it was not a single soul we were looking for, but fragments, seven in all. It was the reason, perhaps, why all previous searches would fail. What caused the split, or why the fragments would appear as wholes, we do not know. A corruption of the spell, perhaps. Incomplete, flawed rebirths.” A little rude, that last bit, perhaps. „If you have questions, or should wish for me to elaborate on certain matters –” a small, ironic smile there, as if he hadn't talked enough already „– ask, and I shall answer.”

He waited, eyes fixed on the mortal. Any reaction seemed possible, an attempt to flee, or perhaps simply disbelief and a burst of hysterical laughter.

While the man was talking, Faran was only half listening. Something had come into the room. He'd said that there would be an unseen thing, but statements like that were rarely verifiable.

Something was definitely the word he'd choose. Faran wrapped his arms around himself while they all stood there like logs. Could they feel it? Boojum from some old samhain viewer special. Charis had liked those. Charis and all the other gunmen were probably dead.

Lucky them.

It felt like it was getting nearer as the blue man spoke. Ghosts, poltergeists and haunting all. The room felt cold to him. Faran looked at the others to see if they seemed to notice. The one who had helped him, the man nearest, he seemed mostly cheerful and oblivious. No luck.

Maybe it would make ******** sense for the thing to home in on him if he was supposed to be some piece among others of this lost god-toy they were going on about. In the corner of his eye he glimpsed something, followed the miasma that blurred what was beyond it. Motion. It coalesced into a dim man-shape. A young man, dressed like he came from some 7th back world with furs and bits of who knew what strung here and there. And he was looking back at him.

Plain and direct, eye-to-eye.

Name?
Faran heard the word in his mind, and he winced with the perceived volume, the demand of it. Word like a knife jammed into his temple. Then it felt like the blade twisted,
Name?

"Faran, " he closed his eyes from the figure and clutched at his temples.

Despite that Mystery was standing close to Faran Karaskis moved forward. She didn't know what was happening but there was something wrong. The part of her mind that housed Cinder considered that the space sickness had gotten to him again.

Reaching out Karaskis gently touched Faran's arm, "Faran, are you alright?" She glanced to the others nearby after speaking. If it was something new perhaps one of them would know it after all was their rooms.

Perhaps just saying what the inscription says did something?

I do not know, but it seems close together the pieces maybe starting to react to the others.

"Nergal I believe bring them together might be causing this...but what it is," the goddess let her voice trail off, as with the others it had felt like stumbling in the dark the entire time and now still that is what it felt like.

„The ghost ...“ Nergal's voice trailed off, not bothering to explain his remark further to those present. It was evident that – with the sole exception of Ankou, perhaps – they could not see the shaman, nor perceive him any other way.

But Faran can.

Underworld's eyes narrowed, and he watched them intently: Man, and ghost of man.

It was obvious the shaman's attention was focused on Faran, for whatever the reason. If it was because of their relation as fragments of the same original person, he could not tell. It was obvious, however, the engineer had seen the ghost, was reacting to its presence and whatever it was--

He frowned, stiffening slightly, unable to pick up on the telepathic inquiry. But the reply …

His name.

Him and Echo picking the names for their children. The posts on that notice board. Names eaten, names forgotten. Why did it always seem to have to come down to names as of late?

„What is it?“ Nergal inquired. Softly, barely audible, and seemingly addressing thin air from the point of view of those who could not see. There was little power behind his question, but definitely some. A certain sharpness to his tone, indicating that he was indeed expecting an answer. More than anything else, he was curious as to why the shaman would have reacted as he did.

Best to not stirr him up if it can be avoided. He is mad. But are we not all, for even attempting this?

They had all the pieces assembled, at least according to the powers of both, Scepter and Amulet, artifacts of old. What they were missing still, severely, was the Key. For but a moment, the god's attention wavered, distracted, his gaze lingering upon the strange assembly of items they had deemed 'fragments'. There was a key, quite literally, right there.

Taj watched Faran and the others for a few moments just listening. If Faran was seeing the ghost, then at least the pieces were interacting with one another. He frowned slightly knowing that if worse came to worse, he could do little to help Faran other than to support him physically. But since Ankou and Nergal could see what the spirit was up to, then at least there was some help available.

All in all, he just wished that whatever was going to happen would. It would be easier on all of them, but also on Faran. No sense scaring him anymore than he already was. Mystery was quite certain that the man easily thought they were all crazy. Who could blame him? In these circumstances, everything was suspect.

None of the others heard the voice. Or the static that followed. There was no radio-set or communicator system in the room, unless the burned b***h had something hidden. She seemed techie enough to have cybernetic bells and whistles. Then the feedback in his skull overrode thought and Faran swooned.


The spectre was gone, to those sighted for the dead. Neither faded, nor showing and gradual notification of magic or residue. Just....gone.

Taj moved the moment the man swooned, catching him. The last thing Faran needed was a headache from hitting the floor on top of whatever was going on. Pulling him into his arms, he picked the man up entirely looking around for a place to put him.

The table with the shroud covered body was all he could think of. So he carried the man over and lay him down beside it. He could not imagine that Faran would like waking up next to it, but at this point, there was no way to ask him. With no knowledge for medicine, he glanced to Nergal and Ankou wondering if perhaps they knew what was happening. Hopefully more than Mystery himself did.