MeetingsoverDinnerMeetings Over DinnerAlex and Swan get themselves cleaned up, and give Caz a chance to do the same and recuperate while the pair hunt for take-away food. In the landscape of the shadow beyond the Motel, Alex and Swan find themselves in a retro science fiction wonderland. Oversized, oddly shaped buildings, weird gadgetry and unusual science are the rule of the day. What Alex and Swan finally find in the way of takeaway food turns out to be an automat style restaurant, with transactions handled by menu buttons and dispensers. Its real, fresh food, just delivered in an roundabout way. By the time Alex and Swan get back to the Motel, Cazaril looks much more hale and healthy. He switches off a radio similar to the one that the Motel manager was listening to as the pair come in with their culinary prizes. "Oh good, you're back." Cazaril says, with a definitely stronger voice., and an audible growl of his stomach. "I took a brief nap, and then started listening to the wireless, as they call it here. I believe." he looks at the two of you. "that you wanted to share stories over dinner, starting with my own, yes?" "Got it in one, Caz," Swan says, laying out the packages of food on the communal table. She begins rummaging around in the bags for paper plates. "And after you give us the rumble, you can give me the lowdown on that proposition you hinted at." She makes a plate for Caz and then ruffles his hair as she passes by. "That doss must have done you some good," she chuckles. "You're looking back in the pink." "Took a lot of catalysis, though, and its depleted me fiercely to do it." Caz says. The next minute is a furious devouring of the plate's contents, with as much decorum as one can manage in eating a plate full of food quickly. "Well adapted Shifters can heal, Swan, and quickly, if we get the space to do it, like I did here. There is always a price to pay though." he says, looking at the remaining food not on Swan or Alex's plates with avaricious eyes before reaching over for more. Refilling his plate, he eats at a little more of a leisurely pace. "Right, let me ask you this, Swan. How much did your father and your family tell you about Chaos." Caz asks, between bites. "Alex has heard some of this on the train trip, but I'll take it from the top." Swan fills Alex's plate as well, pausing to lightly kiss the woman's neck. She continues to listen to Caz as he speaks, obviously intrigued. "Shifters, huh?" she says, impressed. "Lore gave me the lowdown on you lot. Just a taste mind you, though. Enough to keep a bindle stiff like me out of a Chicago overcoat. Otherwise, most of my parental unit has been pretty clammed on the issue." She sits down and begins to eat with all the decorum of a skid rogue in a winery. "But if you two are any indication. I think I like Chaos." Her eyes hone in on Alex and a contented smile colors her features. "Don't go by me," Alex replies with a wide grin before digging into her plate. "I haven't been there myself yet. I just found out about it all myself." "She was fostered, just like the person I want you to help me find." Cazaril agrees between bites. "I'm getting ahead of myself, though." "Anyway, the short version of who and what I am. The long version is in Old High Thari anyway." he grins. "I am Cazaril, son of Lord Despil of House Sawall. I've been away from Chaos too long to tell you exactly what my current rank in the succession to the Throne is." "Sawall is one of thirteen Great Houses, and is currently the House Royal since Emperor Merlin, Uncle Merlin, is from my House. Our House." he says looking at Alex. Swan raises an elegant brow, impressed. "So, I'm bumping shoulders with the high pillows of Chaos. Murder!" she exclaims, grinning brightly. "More than just shoulders," Alex leans in to whispers to Swan, her, a mischievous smile playing on the corner of her lips. She resumes eating and waves for Caz to continue. Beneath the table, Swan covertly brushes her bare toes along Alex's leg… an act of pure innocence, of course. Alex's eyes close briefly, the smile widening for a moment before she turns her attention back to Caz's explanation. "The other twelve Houses are Hendrake,Helgram,Minobee,Aricline,Ambelrash,Baccaran,Draynell,Vangrast,Elvina,Wererathe,and Chanicut and Jesby." he continues. "Plenty of smaller Houses. But the Thirteen are movers and shakers." "These Houses scheme and plan against each other, and the children of High ranking nobles are sometimes fostered in shadow to protect them from other Houses' manipulations. And to give them a breadth of experience unavailable in the Courts. It can unlock talents." "Alex here, for example is a prime example of that." Cazaril says. "Talent will out. While she likely always had Alchemical talent, it manifested in shadow in an unusual and practical manner even if she didn't know why her abilities worked." A faint blush appears on Alex's cheeks at the compliment. Swan snorts with a smirk. "She does have a talent for making big things into smaller things, that's for sure." A touch of wickedness turns the corners of her mouth. "She's got some other great talents too." The faint blush becomes full blown, reddening the young woman from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes. She pushes her empty plate away and cracks a beer. After a swig, she fetches a gasper and lights it up. Blue smoke lazily curls around her as she savors the taste of cloves and fire. "So. If I've got this straight. You guys are like royal version of the Mob. A bunch of families stirring up for the same turf and mazuma. And you need me to find you a lost lamb before they take the Big Sleep?" "Something like that," Alex replies after a moment. Figuring out Swan's idioms was getting easier, but it still took the younger woman a moment or two to piece them together. Turning to Caz, she asks, "So who are we looking for? And how will we find her?" For all that she and Caz had *started* to talk about this topic, every time they got close to this subject something would happen to pull the conversation away. "Well, as I had mentioned some time ago, when Huttner Sawall and I were sent out, we were given two people to bring back to House Sawall and the Courts of Chaos." "One was you." Cazaril says to Alex. "Lord Jurt's daughter." "The other was a request from his mother, the Queen Mother, Lady Dara Sawall." Cazaril says. "It seems that she decided to have, and left in shadow, a daughter. Perhaps after three sons, she sought some gender balance." Caz stops here and inhales some more food, and perhaps to allow Alex and Swan time to take in this knowledge. Alex shrugs. "We're working on filling up the family tree, it seems. I just hope she's cooler than my Aunt Doris. She was a prudish pain in the ass, always looking down on me 'cause Daddy didn't stick around. Like it was my fault." She snorts, shaking her head slightly at the injustice of such thoughts, yet knowing that they can't harm her any longer. "I'll let you form your own opinion." Caz says. Swan continues to listen in professional silence, nodding politely with each point. Yet, the emotion in Alex's voice doesn't escape her. Reflexively, she reaches over and takes Alex's hand, lacing their fingers together. A sad look stains the older woman's eyes while she smiles at her friend, her lover. There is something lurking beyond that gaze, which hints at a connection that goes far beyond the intimacy they've recently shared. She gives Caz a nod to continue. "Her name is Espérance. A lot of the information I have on her, though, was lost when Huttner and I ran into trouble and were separated." Caz says. "He wound up with the information on her particulars on where she was and the type of environment she was in. I hope he found the welcome message for her." "Although I lost the welcome message for you that your father provided, I had enough information to find *you*, Alex, although you were tricky in that you already had started shadow shifting." Caz says. "That's me," Alex quips. "Never easy." "The bomb craters you left in your wake were probably a solid clue," Swan chuckles. "That's not too far wrong, actually." Cazaril says. "Anyway, without some key information, finding Espérance for me was so difficult that I decided not to even suggest it to you. We might spend years fruitlessly trying to find her shadow." "However." Caz finishes and now looks at the smouldering Swan. "this is where you, our new acquaintance, might be able to aid us. Although I don't have the advantage of practical knowledge, I understand that flatlanders...users of Amber's Pattern, can find people, places and things, and literally walk to them." He looks at Swan expectantly. Swan lets her hand slide out of Alex's and then stubs her cigarette out. "Yeah, I savvy," she says. "If this Jane's your meat, I can put the finger on her. I ain't no house dick, it should be duck soup; clean sneak or not." She lights up another gasper, offering one to whoever is taking. "But can the acquaintance crap, 'Caz. You're family now. I'll even give you the reduced rate for finding this bird." Her lips quirk into a smile. "After all, I don't have to ventilate her." "That's the thing, though." Cazaril says. "My fear is that someone will beat us to her and do precisely that. While I am sure that the daughter of the Queen Mother has skills of her own, there are some very nasty things out here. As well we have found out." "We've got a couple of ways to do this." Caz says. "I can try and give you a mental impression of what I know of her and you can key off of that for your shifting. Or I can give you an imprint of Huttner. If he wasn't killed, and if he still has the information to do so, he would be headed toward Espérance. I admit that's a less direct approach, but perhaps a more reliable one." "If you don't want to mess with Neuromancy, I can try and describe the little I do know about her and her world and we can work with that." he offers. He looks to Alex. "And then the three of us will be on another road trip adventure, and possibly a race against time." "Suh-weet!" Alex grins broadly. "At least it won't be boring!" "We would be extraordinarily fortunate if our attempts to reach her are both successful and without incident and opposition." Cazaril replies dryly. "It does occur to me, Alex." Caz adds after a moment of eating. "that the strange pepperpot shaped foe that we met upon our meeting might have been sent or created by the Jesby against *you*." "And don't forget that Tinkerbell from Hell," Swan adds. "We still know from nothing what the hell that was. Other than being touchy about tendril prodding. Pepperpots and tinkerbells and boilers with an attitude. You two attract some strange goons." "Indeed." Caz says dryly. Swan leans back in her chair, arms behind her neck to display her assets. "Nah. Better we get it right in one, 'cause she might take the run-out otherwise. And we can't rely on this other peeper to tip his mitt. A psychic impression will give me the mark, sure as $hit." She leans forward again and runs her fingers through her spiky hair. "Just mind your manners when you're playing with my noodle, savvy? I don't want to wake up thinking I'm a chicken or something" "Nah," Alex leans back, her hands behind her head and her dark eyes twinkling. "We don't do chickens. I'd worry more about thinking you were always in need of a cold shower." Cocking her head, she studies Caz for a moment before shaking her head. "On second thought, since it's Caz in your head, I wouldn't worry about a thing. The cold shower would only be if I popped in instead," she winks. Swan smirks softly, her bare foot moving higher up Alex's leg. "Don't you start something you're not willing to finish in public, doll. This table looks mighty sturdy." Alex's chest pink. "Wouldn't want to embarass Caz," she replies as way of excuse, though truth be told, the thought of "public" scared the girl silly. The foot drifts away just before it can reach the Promised Land. She grabs some crunchy noodles and arches her head back to suck them down, licking the sauce from her fingers with deliberate exhibitionism and zeal. "Tease," Alex murmurs. Cazaril gives a slight shake of the head. "My knowledge of Neuromancy is not overly deep, and I have no incentive to harm you with it." "Finish your food, ask any more questions the two of you have" Cazaril prompts. "And then we'll begin." He begins working on the food on his plate again. Swan wipes her fingers on a napkin. "So, are you both Shifters? And what about this chippy we're gunning for? If she can change her mush, it'll be hard to make her. But more importantly, how do I learn it?" She leans on her elbows, chin resting upon her hands. Her eyelashes flutter with childlike earnestness; well, childlike, if you remember that said child will probably shoot you if she doesn't get her new pony. Alex shakes her head. "I don't think I am. Or, if I am I haven't noticed it yet. He's the master," She chucks her thumb at her cousin. Swan's gaze focuses on Caz expectantly. "Shifting is a skill that takes a lot of time to learn, and the proper environment." Caz says. "Those fostered deeply into shadow are usually fostered in shadows which are too orderly for shifters to be trained in." "To answer your question, Swan." Cazaril turns and looks at her with a gleam in his eye. "We haven't discussed any sort of renumeration or exchange for your help in finding Dara's daughter." "I now propose one." Cazaril continues. "I am certain that I would be able to wrangle for you a session with Marchesa Delois Sawall. She is the premier Shifting expert in House Sawall, and if anyone, Swan, would be able to bring out your latent talents for shifting, it would be her." "Its likely that she would be the one Lord Jurt will be sending Alex to learn from herself, in due time." Alex's eyes light up. "I'm gonna learn how to do that too? Wicked!" Cazaril grins. Alex rises from the table, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair with nary a thought. "Let's go have some fun so we can have some more fun!" Swan glances between the pair, smiling with feline satisfaction. "I ain't got no kick with that. You just bought yourself a shamus, Caz. I cage your lost bird. You teach me how to grow a tail." A salacious grin curls the corners of her mouth. "Lore will have to screw his jaw shut to keep his tongue from falling out. Heh." "Your Friend Lore will be surprised." Cazaril confirms. Swan slides back from the table and stands up. With liquid grace, she moves in behind Alex and wraps her arms around her waist; delighting the woman's neck with a playful nip. "We can't play long, doll," she says ruefully. "I'll bet dollars to donuts we'll need to pack some heat on this trip. And I spent most of my rune-bullets on those flatties back in explosion-ville. Gotta have my gats ready before we dust out, savvy?" "But if you're really nice," she adds, patting Alex on the butt. "I'll teach you how I work my magic." "So, you need to obtain ammunition." Cazaril says, looking at Swan. "A wise precaution, I would say. Where would you find or create more?" he asks her. Swan smiles at Caz over Alex's shoulder. "I make them," she says. "Little of the Old Black Magic. Just takes some time to get the details hashed out." She slips away from Alex and collects her deck, pocketing it. "Wouldn't hurt to find some mundane shells, though. Or for dollface here to cook up some more soup. No telling if we'll have a sock up with one of those doorways again." Alex nods. "I am running a little low," she admits. "And it shouldn't be too hard to get the goodies that I need to mix up a few more canisters. Not sure if they have the kind of things I need here, but that stopped being a problem when I met up with Caz." She spares a wink for her cousin before starting her inventory. Cazaril gives a nod, and returns to cleaning his plate. Crouching down, balancing precariously on the balls of her feet, Alex begins to rummage through her over-stuffed backpack. "A couple extra cannisters, some nitro, a little cazistin," she mumbles under her breath as items get pushed aside to make way for what lies below it. With a happy nod, she turns to Swan. "I've got enough here to make one more cannister. I can get enough to make another ten, which is the least I feel comfy carrying with me. Give me... three hours? Will that be enough time for you?" Cazaril looks to Swan for the response to Alex's question. "I should be hitting on all eight by then," Swan nods. She flexes her hands and the air around her fingers solidifies and reshapes itself into her rune-pistols. After a speedy examination, she sets them down on the table with a meaty thunk. "I'll bet this Shadow has some serious roscoes. Better than that gat we stowed in the trunk. Think you can set your tendrils on a few, Caz? "Firearms and guns." Cazaril says with a nod. "And whoever finishes up first gets provisions. I don't start any lay without a little giggle juice and gaspers handy." Alex shrugs her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan to me." She lowers herself to the ground, sitting cross-legged before her pack and starts pulling out various apparatus, bottles and containers to start her own kind of magic. Several hours later... Alex has found plenty of material for about 10 canisters of her explosive and has put them together. Swan in the meantime has replenished her supply of rune bullets in turn, enough to fill her beloved pistols. Her pistols, however, are no longer the only firearms available to the group. After the first time the use of tendrils disrupts the work of Alex and Swan, Cazaril takes a walk. When he returns, two hours later, he returns reeking of Chaos enough that there is still a patina of that feeling on him. However, he also has a number of guns. "Projectile weapons are odd here." Cazaril says as he displays his acquisitions, a trio of pistols and rifles. "Instead of chemical reaction bullets, these slugthrowers are electrically powered with magnetically driven rounds. The rifles hold five rounds, the pistols hold three." "Fits in with the strange use of electricity throughout this shadow." Caz adds dryly. Swan picks up one of the odd looking rifles and begins to examine it, checking the weight, feel, and sights. "A coil rifle, huh? Sweet. You could cook a few eggs with this heater, I'll bet." She pops the magazine and then slaps it back in. The sensual click makes her go all squirmy. "Oh yeah. That's the stuff." "They called them Gauss guns and Gauss rifles." Caz says. She sets it down and practically leaps into Caz's lap. She kisses him deeply, holding his head in her strong hands. "Caz. You /really/ know how to impress a dame." His head in her hands, Caz looks at Swan and looks at her intently "Evidently, at least I know now what to give you for your next Nameday." "Mrmm-hrm," Swan purrs, resting her head against his shoulder. "I should have hung with you plugs, ages ago." She nuzzles in happily and then sits back up straight, remembering something. She taps his nose and grins innocently. "I also like mazuma and plenty of it. Preferably in a fashionable purse." Alex grabs the pistol and starts stroking it lovingly. "Wicked! Much better than the crew had." She brings the pistol down, sighting it toward the floor. "Nice grip, too." Caz turns his head towards Alex and smiles beatifically. Setting the pistol back on the table, she looks at the other pair with a grin. "No one better mess with us! We ready?" She bounces on her toes, anxious to be on her way. "Well, there is just one last piece of business before Swan can lead us in the direction of Espérance and the inevitable trouble along the way." Caz replies. "I have to give her the information that I have on the Queen Mother's daughter." "I am prepared when you are." Cazaril says as he turns his head and regards Swan. "Although it should be my hands on your head, in this instance." Swan nods and shifts in Caz lap, straddling him. "Alright Caz," she announces. "Probe away." She closes her eyes and then opens one again, suddenly pensive. "No funny stuff when you're in there, savvy?" "On my word as a Sawall." Cazaril says seriously. He looks at Alex, gives her a reassuring smile and then looks at Swan. "Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. We're going to establish a tactile and ocular neurological connection, Swan. Keep looking at my eyes. Focus on my eyes..." Cazaril's eyes are fascinating, for Swan and for Alex, if she looks. The eyes change colors, pinpricks of red overwhelming a base green, and once they have turned completely red, black pinpricks begin to form into new and intricate patterns... Those patterns, for Swan, are replaced by a series of images. A woman. Medium tall, slim, dark hair, grey eyes,lithe, athletic build dressed in masculine clothing: closefitting breeches, boots, vest, full-sleeved shirt...and a plumed hat. Swords, lots of swords. A medieval city, with a river running through it. Sword imagery again. A black dog, a Newfoundland, a strong and important image, since it lasts nearly as long as the image of the woman. A simple wooden box. This box is jet black, and inset on its lid is a drawing that looks like a silver chess rook. And then the image of the woman, one last time, superimposed on that medieval city, with the river that runs through it. The images are replaced with those strange fractal patterns, and Swan feels somewhat dizzy as Cazaril removes his hands and finally breaks the eye contact. "That's all of it." Cazaril says, looking toward Alex, purposefully giving Swan a rest from his gaze. Swan shifts in his lap, trying to focus her sight on the center of the room. She rests a hand on his shoulder and takes a few gulps of air. "Wow. That was a little out there, Caz." "My apologies." Cazaril replies. "I am not formally trained as a Neuromancer." He looks to Alex and grins. "I don't know everything, after all." "Oh, break it up," Swan laughs. "You've got the bulge and you know it." Gingerly, she stands up and finds her way to the couch to lie down. She covers her eyes with her arm, letting all of the images sink into her mind. "That should have me running on all eight, sure enough. I just need a second. Catch my breath." Cazaril returns to looking at Swan and gives a nod. "It might take you a little time to integrate all of the images I gave you. I know not how a Pattern initiate can make best use of these images. But now you have them." Swan chuckles faintly, "You put me wise, so no worries there, Caz. I have more than enough to cage our canary. Bit of a sword fetish this bim has, though. You sure she wants to be found?" Cazaril shrugs. "She does not know of her true nature, unless her Highness left something in her care to educate her as to it." he responds. "She may think herself an ordinary denizen of her shadow." "However." he adds. "Even if we were to leave her alone and go on our way, Huttner, my novitiate, will still be seeking to find her. If he has not passed beyond the final Void. And then there are the enemies of House Sawall." The eyes of Cazaril are steely and determined as he looks between Swan and Alex. "I will not leave Espérance to the mercies of House Jesby." Swan smiles faintly, "Now that's a look that says a thousands words. These Jesby's must be a hinky lot, huh? Nil perspiration. If they get in the way, I'll put some daylight in them for no extra charge." Cazaril gives Swan a serious, sober nod. She stands up and stretches with a lioness' grace. "'Kay, let's dust and snag this chippy, shall we?" Through the whole exchange, Alex had been sitting on the edge of her chair, elbows resting on her knees as she watched and listened. At Swan's rising, she seemed to bolt upward, standing on the balls of her feet, excitement shining out of every pore. Her bag quickly slung over her shoulder, she was determined to reach the door first. "What are you waiting for?" she challenges with a grin, her hand on the knob of the door, turning it quickly to release her from the confinement of inactivity. One last grin at her cousin and her lover, and she's out the door like a shot, tumbling into the passenger side of the car with youthful enthusiasm. 'Apparently', she thinks with a wry grin, 'the older crowd just can't keep up.' Then she remembers Swan's kisses, her touches and amends that thought. 'At least in some things.' Swan takes her time descending the stairs, accenting every step with a delicious wiggle of her hips. Apparently, she's of the school that if you're going to go somewhere, you need to do it with feline style. When she hits the bottom step, she pauses to slip on a pair of razor-keen mirrorshades. She steadies them on her nose and then smiles strangely as Caz comes up alongside her. "Our trip will different. It will be a classic affirmation of everything right and true in the national character. A gross physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this Multiverse. But only for those with true grit." She wriggles her eyebrows. "And we are chock full of that, man." The smile spreads, "Hope you brought the ether, Caz." "If ether is needed at some juncture, it will be obtained." he says, deadpan. He takes the backseat of the car, glancing around with a perspective, striking gaze. And with that, she walks over to the car and hops into the front seat. "Alright, you beasts," she says, firing up the engine. "Second star to the right and straight on 'till morning." "Alex and I will keep watch for obstacles and antagonists." Cazaril says. "We'll let you concentrate on driving and shadow-shifting." He looks to Alex, gives her a nod and then looks alertly from side to side as the drive begins. And so the three of you are off, riding on Swan's abilities and methodology on heading toward Dara's daughter. Backlinks |
