Welcome to Gaia! ::

For all it seemed an average Victorian mansion, Wakefield was not. From the rooms that were constantly changing to its superhuman staff, the manor was a place of strange physical forces that less developed societies considered magic. Even moderately developed societies were at a loss as to the physics of the place.

But this magic of Wakefield's was not merely in the main building. It extended into the gardens beyond, gardens that seemed ever-blooming and seasons that changed without regard for the outside world. The trees in constant fall plumage, the flowerbeds eternal late spring. Birds had no need for migration, for even in the winter months there were pockets of summer if one knew where to look.

Beyond the gardens, the magic went further still, all the way to the edge of the property. It allowed Wakefield to slip between existing houses, expand a slice of reality to accommodate the house and gardens. Suddenly two structures which had been adjacent had Wakefield in between, and somehow the physics worked.

These were all obvious signs of Wakefield's "magic." Yet for everything that was obvious, there a thousand things hidden just beneath the surface. In the stones and in the soil, deep underground and high overhead. Most importantly, in Wakefield's outer walls.

To the naked eye there was nothing notable about these walls. They were white, they were tall enough to prevent snooping, and in various places there were gates, most notably the main gates with the engraved letters WM. Wakefield Manor. To the passerby, these were normal walls and normal gates.

The passerby would be wrong. Functioning with physics and intelligence that made the main house look like a toy, the walls and gates could keep things Out. They were designed with the worst case scenarios in mind. In the event of a nuclear detonation, Wakefield would survive. In the event of a planetary explosion, it would survive. In the event of a tear in dimensions, Wakefield would remain as it had been for over a century now, with its perfect gardens and clear blue skies. The walls could even withstand the assault of a god.

Supreme Commander Lady EmileAmai Piett was not a god. She could have been, but because of a decision made a decade earlier she was trapped in what was essentially a human form. She still had powers beyond most reckoning and comprehension, she was still very much the Void, but contained by the decade-old decision, she could not at whim cause things to cease existing.

Which meant that the Supreme Commander was forced, like everybody else, to ring the doorbell.

She should have been able to will herself into Wakefield directly, the way she could will herself into most any location by squeezing through pockets of nonreality. Nonreality was second nature to her, she thrived and fed on it. She shaped it to her will, as much as you could shape anything that did not exist in any capacity. Normally she would just flow effortlessly into Wakefield's halls and command attention as she always did.

Someone had locked her out.

Try as she might, the pockets of nonreality just would not go. Wakefield's physics were suddenly opaque to her. If she found her demihuman form frustrating, she found her inability to access one of her few remaining powers infuriating. Like most of her angers, it was a cold one, and the fury registered only as a smile on her face easily mistaken for genuine.

So she rang the buzzer at the gate and waited for a response.

It came through in a burst of crackling static which was surely intentional, for the speaker system was far advanced beyond electronic interference. "Yes?" croaked a voice, and the Supreme Commander's smile vanished in honest dismay. Ignacia.

Ignacia and the Supreme Commander did not get along. They were both stubborn personalities, but Ignacia coupled that stubbornness with morality. The Supreme Commander hated morals and any rules or restrictions of any kind.

"I would like to speak to the lord of the house," the Commander said, in a voice just a tad higher than usual. It was a thin attempt to disguise her identity. She knew Ignacia's hearing was too good for the trick despite the maid's advanced years.

Ignacia replied with stony displeasure. "He's not in."

"Then get me Cranshaw," hissed the Commander.

"Not in," came Ignacia's response.

The Supreme Commander leaned back and thought. Then she reached forward and pushed the button to turn the speaker off. She waited. She buzzed it again.

Again Ignacia. "Yes?"

The Commander flicked it off. She buzzed it again. If there was anyone else in Wakefield, they would surely wonder about all the buzzing.

"Ah, good day to you, Rose," said the Commander. She was instantly cheery in a sort of car salesperson way, very businesslike and with a definite purpose. "I have a delivery. Can you buzz me in?"

Like any good liar, she was careful not to volunteer information. She had years of practice in the art.

"She must have been busy," said the Commander, sounding ever-so-innocently confused. She had good control of her voice. "No one picked up." Inwardly, she was fuming. She hated this sort of charade. Curse Djerod for putting up so many walls. As a quick afterthought she added, "I'm running late today. Anyone can sign for it," and hated herself even more for it.

The Commander closed her eyes and took a breath, swearing this was the last time she would use this tone of voice and cursing Rose. She felt the pressure of necessity; Ignacia was probably trying to intervene even now. "No, the main gate?" It sounded cute. It sounded sugary. It sounded like a high school cheerleader.

Somewhere, the Commander's real voice was going, "Shoot me now."

"Rose Lukas-Hein," sneered the Commander, and it was clear in an instant that Rose had made a terrible, terrible mistake. This was no sugary, flowery, preppie cheerleader like the voice at the gate suggested, no innocent small-town girl trying to make her way through college with a courier job. The Supreme Commander looked down her nose at Rose and clasped her arms behind her back. "I keep telling my brother to install a video comm system in this primeval cave of his." She spat the word brother in such a way that it suggested the term was possibly fictitious and certainly mocking.

"I think I'll be the judge of that. Step aside," said the Supreme Commander, a tone that threatened there was serious physical harm if Rose failed to comply. Suddenly the Commander seemed seven feet tall and very, very serious. It was not a question of standing aside, it was an order, an order that wrapped itself around and around and constricted its prey.

It was not as terrible as it could have been. Something in the air of Wakefield, something in its innate physics prevented the Supreme Commander from using the full measure of her powers. It took all of her skill to manifest as much as she was.

The Supreme Commander was also aware of the fact that it took Ignacia about twenty seconds to search every room in the house, and that surely she was on her way here by now thanks to Rose's summons.

Two sets of footsteps came into the room as the Supreme Commander brushed her way past Rose. The first was Ignacia, a flash of motion flying out from the lower hallway and into the foyer. The maid came to a stop just in the center of the room, her hands flat against her apron, her hair unruffled. The second was Zevulon, coming down the stairs two at a time. He came to a stop at foot of the stairs and seemed ready to launch himself forward at a moment's notice, his body tensed and his eyes flashing with anger.

The Supreme Commander looked at both of them without ever truly looking, her eyes fixed on a point between them as if drawing them together with her gaze, forcing them to step into her line of vision. Zev took one step. Ignacia did not move.

Ignacia was probably furious, but behind her cool, professional facade it was impossible to tell. The maid merely pursed her thin lips in a disapproving frown. As a servant, she could not speak without being first addressed.

Zev was no servant, but he was naturally reticent and used only his heavy glare for communication. The Supreme Commander turned her head ever so slightly towards him.

"Isn't this something, you've no need to all rush to welcome me," remarked the Commander casually. It was easy to imagine her examining her nails with that tone of voice.

The statement clearly unnerved Zev. He flinched, the only evidence of it the way his pupils contracted, but the Supreme Commander noticed it. She noticed everything. Aside from this involuntary change in his pupils, Zev stayed perfectly rigid and still.

"Down girl," said the Commander easily, a tone with honey poured into it. Smoky Hollywood starlet, somewhere between Ann Bancroft and Elizabeth Taylor. It quickly dropped into a note of danger. "Where is Djerod?" The Supreme Commander was careful to direct it towards Zevulon and Rose; so long as she ignored Ignacia, the serving-woman would be powerless.