Fire After the Rain

[madimpossibledreamer]

Alice was angry enough she just went for one of the strongest Korean insults she had. From what I found researching, for Koreans, ‘crazy bastard’ is really up there...kind of like how most Italian insults are on the table, but especially for the Catholics anything involving blasphemy is worse than pages and pages of inventive semi-Shakespearean insults.
These Devores are probably not related to Vanessa or Venetian masks. Probably.
okay the exit symbols are random and des as per his usual just walked up and touched two of them and went ‘what, like it’s hard?’
You’d probably be disappointed, Desmond. And actually surprisingly a little grossed out for once. As Shaun would no doubt tell you, books bound in human skin are actually a thing and I’m sure the Illuminati have at least several.

Main Points: Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: Just because Beaumont is gone does not mean that the Archives are now safe.
Word Count: 2586
Rating: Teen

        Rukh is loud and upset when Desmond’s consciousness returns. Mostly, he’s just strutting back and forth clacking his beak, but he’s actually adding the occasional loud, angry croak. Desmond’s head feels kinda leaden, but he reaches out to pet his bird anyway. Rukh resists the reassurance for a moment or two, clearly feeling he hadn’t sufficiently voiced his grudge against Beaumont or his own ravenish plans for future meetings, but then succumbs to the siren call of the pet.
        And then Desmond remembers, maybe a little bit belatedly, that oh yeah, he’s kind of a Mentor at this point, which means he should probably be something like responsible. “Is everyone mostly in one piece?” he manages.
        “Boss, I’m not even really sure I’m conscious right now,” Nate groans.
        “Fair enough.” Personally, Desmond’s pretty sure he hurts a little too much to not be conscious, but he can see where things could get confusing, and he’s actually kind of thinking that maybe it’s a hopeful sign that Nate’s getting some of his sense of humor back.
        “I can help her move until she feels ready to return,” Ligeia reports, which is slightly worrying, but Desmond just has to hope it’s less dangerous than the Bleeding Effect.
        “Alice?” he asks quietly, and she turns. She’s cradling the knife, blood and all, and he’s a little taken aback to see there are tears in her eyes.
        “I wished to tell you,” she insists, pointy teeth gritted, and he’s getting the feeling that those are tears of humiliation.
        “It’s okay,” he tries to tell her, because apparently he hasn’t learned his lesson yet, and she shakes her head violently.
        “I wished to tell you, but I was afraid. And then that mi-chin nom…” She trails off into muttering, and Desmond doesn’t have to speak what he’s going to guess is probably Korean to know that she wasn’t intending to be complimentary.
        “It can wait until you’re ready,” he insists, and for the first time in a long while, she looks young, wiping her eyes. “You should clean the knife, though. Don’t want that asshole sorceror’s blood rusting it, right?”
        She manages a smile and a nod, cleaning it, which lets him take stock of himself.
        The feeling like he’s not entirely in his own body is back, but this time he’s wondering if that’s not actually the aftereffect of the Sword. If, rather than being stuck in place, it’d just kind of...displaced their consciousness, but made it feel like they were being suspended in the air by magic. Okay, yeah, partly he’s thinking that because that’s how the Apples worked, mainly illusion, but another part of it—and it’s clever if twisted, if this is how it works—is that from what he’s picked up, first from Shaun (between the lessons and some conversations at the pub) and then from just watching it in action, is that things are a whole lot simpler if you know the spell being used. It’s not as simple as one spell, one counterspell, for several reasons not limited to the fact that not everyone uses the same type of magic. The best way to think about it is probably if a guard’s coming at you with a sword. From there, you have several options, like dodging, or climbing, or using your own sword or a Hidden Blade to deflect...that’s the general idea, anyway. If you think someone’s coming at you with a sword when they’re really sitting on a nearby rooftop pointing a crossbow at your back, though, that’s going to be a lot harder to counter. He’s going to run this analogy by Shaun at some point, but definitely not now. Sadly. Maybe he’ll also run it by Nate soon, just...more when they have some down time. Right now he wants to get them out.
        He does shakily make it to his feet, and then glances around. One thing? The books are guarded. Sort of. There’s more familiars here, probably made by the masters, because he can’t imagine them using student attempts for something this serious. They honestly don’t look much better than the student’s familiars, though these don’t just screech. They sing off-key, too. They’re also not immediately hostile. They might switch suddenly, if they try to take a book, but that’s at least an improvement, even if nothing else is.
        None of the cool blue flames or metal art, but fancy display cases (most of which are empty) and those ropes used at museums and even (for most of the main aisles) actual red carpets. This archive is a whole lot bigger than the other one, if a lot more utilitarian, with shelves floor to ceiling—and the ceiling isn’t, you know, the Temple of Solomon or a Duomo high, but it’s probably at least two stories. Maybe there’s another reason he’s thinking of those, though, since this one has archways and functional, no-nonsense columns holding everything up. Most normal people probably use a ladder or float the books down, but it’s been a while since Desmond’s gotten to climb something, and one of the books up near the top is glinting. “Be back in a minute. Keep an eye out,” he tells them, and just goes for it.
        These are good bookshelves. He would’ve called that, honestly. No point in really terrible bookshelves that might drop really heavy tomes, and it’s probably even magically reinforced. Still, it’s really nice to get a feel that it’s not going to just collapse on him the second he gets too high.
        That being said...yeah, he probably could put this in his bag, especially if Rukh helps him unzip it, but then he runs the risk of dumping everything else, and they’d stayed on the ground for a reason. “Catch,” he calls out and then just drops the book. Rukh swoops in and at least slows down the descent a little with his claws, clacking disapprovingly again.
        Lydia catches it, though. “I’m feeling better,” she announces.
        “I noticed. Welcome back,” he responds, getting back to a point he feels he can just drop. No attack there, either. The familiars are probably guarding the books on the pedestals, then, rather than just every book in the library.
        Lydia’s started flipping through. “I think this is the diary or something of the guy who built the Blue Ridge Mine and the Franklin Mansion. I don’t think he was a bleeds-blue Illuminati, but he definitely had associations. Looks like his foreman, a Devore, might have been initiated?”
        “Boss, I, uh. I don’t think I should’ve picked up this one.” Nate doesn’t sound panicked, just a little bit worried.
        “Did the familiars notice?” Desmond asks, glancing around, but they still seem as weirdly apathetic as ever.
        “Nope. This looks like an overdue library book. I don’t even have a clue how it could’ve ended up here, especially not if none of the students actually managed to get in in the first place. I just figured knowing more about hexes would be a good idea. Especially if Lydia wants to get better at fighting.” A booby-trapped book about curses. Illuminati have a really twisted sense of humor, huh.
        “Oh, no wonder you thought this looked useful. Your Third Eye really is something else,” Lydia announces, absorbed in the book and completely ignoring the rest of the conversation. “In 1881 this Franklin guy met a Beaumont. Maybe not the same guy, but. There’s a note in here that instructs the local Illuminati to track him down, but they missed him.”
        “Just a guess, but maybe the fog and zombies and potential end of the world might have something to do with that?” Nate responds, still trying to sound calm.
        “Well, he was here for longer than that, but I don’t think the locals knew a lot about the Morninglight and it’s not like he was their recruitment guy or anything,” Desmond agrees. “Given how magic works, do you think returning the book would fix it?”
        “Yes, probably. I realize it’s a detour, but I really don’t want to find out what curse the Lumies consider appropriate for—” Nate’s cut off by a book seemingly throwing itself from the shelf onto his head. He exchanges a look with Desmond.
        Lydia’s still a little oblivious to the fact that they don’t have time for her to be doing this. Particularly since Desmond’s not even not-feeling Beaumont. He still won’t show up to Eagle Vision, but that void-like feeling might actually be the tell. “‘So much for exile as a punishment, when you yourself outlive the rest,’” she reads out loud. “Funny remark for this Beaumont, huh.”
        Funny, and actually kind of deeply disturbing, because the possibilities at the moment are bothering Desmond. He doesn’t want to say any of them out loud yet because he doesn’t have any proof, only suspicions, and he’s not sure if this world is the kind of place where you can actually will something into existence by talking about it out loud, but he doesn’t want to take the chance just yet.
        Beaumont might’ve done something here, too, because Desmond’s not seeing the way out. Bob only kind of is; he keeps getting confused and tasting the air with his tentacles, but continues walking and pulling Alice along after not too long. He’s gotten a lot better about not running off when they don’t have a hold on the leash, which is probably a good sign for any pet or pet-adjacent magical creature. The familiars still don’t take any notice of them, but Desmond, on the other hand, notices a few, or what’s left of them, anyway—Beaumont chopped up specific ones around a particular pedestal, like he knew exactly what he was looking for, and the book is gone. It’s slightly annoying that there’s no way, as far as Desmond knows, to figure out what’s missing unless they have someone who they can ask, and given that everyone seemed to not have been inside, he’s not too hopeful. They can ask, just in case there’s a list or something that Montag at least might have on hand.
        It’s disorienting. Desmond keeps thinking that some of those dark archways are exits. That would make sense design-wise anyway. But no, they might just be traps, because they’re so dark that even a traditional moonless night would be bright in comparison, and all sound cuts out, too, so the most any of them can do is fumble around until he’s touching a wall and then follow that and hope it leads anywhere out. Even after he gets out, he’s so disoriented that his sense of direction is gone, but fortunately that doesn’t seem to affect Bob any. After the third time, they manage to actually find the next room, and from there an actual lit exit, which looks promising.
        Of course, that’s just when the Illuminati sense of humor kicks back in again, because that’s when they get ambushed by a hulking humanoid mound of flesh, probably at least three to four times the size of one of the familiars, and of course, of course it happens to know blood magic, too. Blood oozes up out of the carpet and bubbles at their feet. Sometimes it’ll spew blood at them from one of its several misplaced mouths or try to hit them with misshapen but powerful arms. It honestly might be made of mostly muscle tissue, given how it knocks Alice flying when she gets too close one time too many. (She gets up just fine, which is good, but it’s still worrying.)
        Desmond’s going to guess that this thing was actually what was messing with his Eagle Vision, because once they finally manage to make it stop moving suddenly both he and Rukh see the way to go as well as Bob, and even Bob’s gotten a boost, given how he’s happily straining at the leash. From there, the next room is...it looks like a mausoleum. Desmond would almost guess that they’re counting their dead as just another tome of lore if not for the fact that there aren’t any coffins, skeletons, or bodies. Instead, they have put even more books there, though Desmond’s pretty sure he spots a few that might be bound in what he hopes isn’t human skin. The runes on the floor don’t need a clue, either, because they’re now obvious to Eagle Vision, and even Rukh is slightly dancing on his shoulder with excitement.
        Toward the back, the stone gets more broken, like it’s going to fall at any moment, and—ugh, the sewers. Logically, it makes sense—having your secret tunnels connected to actual pre-existing functional tunnels makes sense. From the smell alone, though, he has a moment where he just freezes up, his entire body rebelling, and that freaks him out more because he’s not in control of himself and the last time he was in the sewers...Shaun’s charm is still there, it’s still working, he’s still safe. It feels like his hand was moving on its own, but it’s probably more like that’s the only order he’d given his body that his body actually wanted to obey.
        Behind him, though, he hears another muffled curse that proves Nate isn’t okay. They’re not getting ambushed. At least, not in the traditional sense. He somehow ended up twisting his ankle pretty badly just taking the last step down, and it actually resists healing for a second. Whatever’s going on with the library book, it’s getting worse, and fast. They hurry down the tunnel, trying to stay on the sides where they can, but have to stop abruptly when the eagles screech again (funny, it’s been a while, and also it’s probably tied to the fact that he can’t sense Beaumont either, but it sure would’ve been nice to have a warning there).
        Because there’s a Filth thing, of course there’s a Filth thing in here. Damn it. It’s not like a Filth-infected zombie, like from the pool, because its arms and legs are weirdly long, like this is some inhuman attempt at drawing what a human looks like. He vaguely remembers having at least seen one that looks like this before, but he doesn’t remember where or why and for all he knows it was in a dream. At least healing everyone through it goes well, though it also means he ends up more on healing duty. And there aren’t new attacks, either, just the usual explosions and pulling tentacles trying to get them in reach of the explosions and other contaminating effects, but, again, with the healing, that’s not too bad. Alice is even starting to get a clue how to copy the healing, and that’s made her smile again. She can’t do much, and it’s an effort, but from the feel of it, she’s managing to cleanse the Filth away, and given how Shaun and Rebecca had panicked, most healers can’t manage that, so she deserves to feel proud.
        And the ladder up comes out...near the soccer field. They really did get turned around in there, didn’t they.
        “We can probably get you into the dorms. I think the washing machine and dryer still work,” Nichelle announces from under the bleachers.
        To his surprise, the students actually snuck out to meet them.
        Well, if anyone would know… “You know anything about overdue library books?”
        “Okay, you’re gonna want to return that stat. The fines here are lethal,” Carter responds with a worried look before hugging him. “I’m glad you’re all in one piece at the moment, though. I’ll show you the library, we could probably find a temporary change of clothes for everyone, and then maybe you could take a breather back in the office? The Council set up in one of the unused rooms, and I bet maybe there’s something we could help you with.”
        Honestly, it probably is more that she wants to hear about what happened, but he’s not going to crush her hopes and dreams.