I Wish I Wasn't in Dixie: Across the Way (IC)

[Flarbinia]

"Eat lightning with a side of fire, you bitch!" Sean Rockwell said to the woman as he fired the artifact, the monster going up in flames while electricity corsed through her armor, a bloodcurdling scream coming from her mouth as she fell to the ground, her body twitching. After the two returned to the mortal world, Sean Rockwell picked up the sawed-off Browning M97 and emptied it into her head to make sure she was dead this time. He then tossed it to the ground and began reloading his revolver. Once he was finished, he headed into the employees only area, two of the cultists turning around to shoot him, one of them carrying a Colt .45 Single Action while the other carried an MP-40. Sean Rockwell gunned them both down, the MP-40 sliding towards him. He picked up the submachine gun, looted as much ammunition as he could from the corpses, and then continued heading down the hall.

[Biscaria]

Nell & Edwin Choate
Upper Hills District - The Fitzgerald House

Mr. Fitzgerald raised his empty glass. "True that, Dunn." He stated this without specification.

Edwin's demeanor indeed did not change much from Sir Dunn's reassurance, but he gave a weak smile to be polite.

Nell listened to Sir Dunn, happy to hear about the "benevolent groups" he spoke of in relation to old Asenath's case. However, she was also reminded of her parents, and decided to bring them up as part of the conversation. "You know, my father was always very scientific in his thinking, and never liked any of this stuff. I'd say my mother was the spiritualist of our house. Not that she was an occultist of any sort, I wouldn't dare think so, but she cared for life's symbolism. Things like fate and legend, oh, she'd care for these things when my father would scoff."

She paused in her remembrance, as one thing led to another. "We lost her ten years ago, right before that time of horribleness. I was visiting Spain with a suitor at the time when I heard she was dying. Needless to say, I left him there and rushed back home. Unfortunately, it was too late; mother was gone. Her heart just gave out, that's what the doctor said. Scientist or spiritualist, I suppose father's with her now." Nell took Edwin's hand for support, as the reminiscing was making her descend into grief. Her inner strength prevailed, however, and no tears emerged.

Meanwhile, footsteps could be hears coming from upstairs and on the staircase in the foyer.

"That must be Mimi!" stated Nell, now determined to move past the subject of death. "She must be done changing."

"About time," replied Frank Fitzgerald.

After a bit of time, Mimi Fitzgerald entered the room. Her hair was in a sensible up-do which she maintained from before, but now had a pink floral hairpiece and crystal earrings to accompany it. In contrast to her drab gardening clothes from earlier, she was now wearing a fashionable and matching silk evening dress fit for the occasion.

"Well Frank," she said to Mr. Fitzgerald. "How do I look?"

"Good," stated Frank.

"Well it better be good! I didn't get all dressed up for nothing; wasn't going to dine in gardening wear."

"You look lovely, Mimi," complimented Nell.

Mimi looked at Nell's fine dress. "Why thank you, dear." She looked around the room. "Now, I hope I haven't missed too much." She sat down next to Frank, and looked toward Sir Dunn. "Sir Dunn, how have things been lately? Has Lady Dunn been well?"

Before Sir Dunn could answer, Lizzie the maid appeared at the doorway. She looked at Mimi and Frank.

"Dinner is ready. The children are ready, as well," stated the maid, with another shudder as she glimpsed Sir Dunn. She then ran out again. In her place, a stream of four equally well-dressed children, two white (Rita and Hal), one black (Hattie), and one brown (Jacob), came through the doorway. The children all seemed to be around ten years old.

Mimi got up, took the scotch glass out of Frank Fitzgerald's hand and placed it on the table, and then went over to stand next to the children. "Sir Dunn, allow us to introduce you to our new wards. With this ongoing crisis, we've been fostering the poor dears in lieu of parents. They're quite well-behaved, I assure you! This here's Rita, Hattie, Hal, and Jacob. Say hello, children."

The children greeted Sir Dunn. Nell and Edwin smiled. Frank Fitzgerald stood up and joined his wife.

"Well, let's not delay dinner any longer." Mimi practically pulled Frank out the doorway and then lead the children toward the dining room. "Come along everyone! Onwards!"

Nell and Edwin looked at each other, and followed. Sir Dunn was expected to follow as well.

--

The Fitzgerald dining table was done up well with a fine centerpiece, nice white tablecloth, and good china and silver.

"As this is a somewhat impromptu, and rather small, affair, I wasn't able to plan the seating in advance. Nell, you sit on my left. Sir Dunn, you sit on my right. On the other side of the table, Frank and Edwin sit together... yes, across from spouses." She felt she was forgetting something, saw four extra place settings, and then looked down and around at the children behind her. "Oh, and the children! Can't forget the children! Hal, you sit next to Sir Dunn; Hattie, next to Mrs. Choate. Jacob, you go next to Mr. Fitzgerald; Rita, next to Mr. Choate."

Once the guests, and the hosts and children, were all seated, a waitress came out with the first course dish, which was a green bean salad prepared with a vinaigrette.

"So as I asked before," asked Mimi to Sir Dunn once presented with the dish, "how is Lady Dunn? Does she still spend her days in the garden?"

Meanwhile, the waitress presented the dish to Mr. Fitzgerald, and he thanked her. "Thank you, Ruth."

The waitress smiled, served everyone else, and then went on back to the kitchen. Meanwhile, the guests, hosts, and so-far well-behaved children had their first course of the Fitzgerald dinner.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Downtown District
Club Casablanca
5:30 pm.

A sudden sharp pain could be felt on Seans side, and with one look he found the source of the pain coming from a tentacle which had generated out of the black aura of a man in a grizzled duster. The man had appeared behind Sean without him being able to even hear them, and the man uttered one word "sleep". With the wave of his left hand Sean began to feel drowsy, and within minutes was asleep the last sight being the tentacles slowly wrapping around him. His willpower was being drained, and the artifact which had fused with his arm was unable to fire anything at all. As the tentacles formed what appeared to be a knife readying to cut Sean opened the artifact used the last bit of strength to teleport him away.

The grizzled man sigh saying "that damn shard" as the cultists began cleaning up one wearing a blue hood with a mask asked him what should be done about Tommy. "Begin the ritual...he is of much use to me, and I need him, and as for the corpses...you know what to do". The man in the blood hood nodded as he, and a few others began to transform into terrors, and devoured the corpses. Sean would have probably felt like the aeons passing bye as he slowly awoke in a land different from the city. A formless figure came forth using the wind, and would have continued on its way had Sean not caught its attention.

Sean looked around, and noticed the artifact was gone, but the injuries to his hands, and shoulder were still fixed. The figure slowly circled sean, and asked "It has been a long time since a living one has come across the way to join us. Or perhaps you are here by mistake my lost friend? Regardless, your presence here is...unwise, this is the place of a billion souls, and a billion dreams. All of which come true here as they wait for the right moment to go through the next stage".

The figure began to look more humanoid using vapors, and whisps to form a body that looked remotely human. "Here...across the way the recently departed sleep, and dream their lives over a million times. Then when they are lucky they transcend to the next stage where they face the consequences of their actions in life, and are reborn into the mortal plain. Your presence here...might wake some of the souls up, and in this stage they can become quite hasty to return to life. So my friend why are you here?".

As Sean found himself stuck in a realm unlike our own, and without the artifact things could be a lot worse. The death of the singer, the shootout at Club Casablanca has caused a racket downtown. For now the horror, and his remaining cultists, and loyal terrors have gone into hiding awaiting Seans return. The artifact has a will of its own, and though it chose to save Sean it seemingly has also abandoned him...or has it? Meanwhile news of the racket downtown has potentially reached everyone including Luca's forces in the kings former turf...what shall they do with such information?

[Flarbinia]

Unknown Location
"I got an artifact to help me deal with this cult. Unfortunately, its leader got the drop on me and the artifact sent me here. Where the fuck are we, anyway?" Sean Rockwell said to the stranger.
Refugee District 2. Oklahoma City
"The boys heard a commotion from Club Casablanca. Said that Sean Rockwell went inside before the gunshots started. Should we send some guys to help out?" Milos said to Luca "The Carpenter" Soprano. "We've got bigger fish to fry. The Triad is still a big hitter and the Columbians are the top dog right now." Luca "The Carpenter" Soprano said to Milos.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
The Wayside
Time Unknown

"We are in the first plane, a place you mortals call the wayside or some of you at least. To some this is purgatory, and to others this is hell, but in truth all the souls of the dead come here to rest in states of long lasting sleep until their time has come. Here they can relive their lives a million times until room is made for them in the twilight kingdom. There they will be judged for the lives they lived, and cleansed before rebirth into the mortal plane. Yet some times the souls here wake up especially when disturbances begin to pop up, and rile the place up."

The specter continued as it guided Sean through what appeared to be entire fields of formless humans traversing deep in slumber almost like they were lost in a perpetually cycling river. " I am, but one of millions of caretakers for the several trillion souls residing here in slumber. Recently you, and a ghastly creature had a fight here, and now her soul wanders loosely wreaking havoc like the beast she is. The last thing we need is a soul disturbed from a millenia of sleep to realize its current state, and freakout...it gets so messy trying to put them back to sleep. It appears the artifact saved your life, but also brought you back to finish things up".

The stranger pointed to the sight before them in another field showing several souls choatically trying to flee being terrorized by the ravenous soul of what used to be the singer. "Luckily for us these souls will be easy to collect, and put back to sleep, but you need to deal with her first. We merely need you to bring her over to a field without any souls, and we can trap her...assuming you make it out alive of course. The trap only affects the dead, and you obviously cannot kill what is already dead. However...it doesn't mean she won't be incredibly irate once she spots your still living body walking among us...good luck".

While still living the terror form of the singer was considerably constrained compared to the black cloud rampaging throughout the dark fields of souls. Any humanity the soul formerly had was replaced instead by pure rage as it sought desperately to slay the souls, and feed off of them. Thankfully it couldn't accomplish this task since nothing can ever truly destroy a soul especially not another one. No matter how twisted, disfigured, and broken a soul becomes it is part of creation, and cannot be truly destroyed. Sean was about to have a hell of a time on his hands especially with no real weapon to use.

[Flarbinia]

"Great. Just fucking great. I just gunned down this bitch. Twice." Sean Rockwell muttered as he began his hunt for the deceased singer. It did not take him long to find her. "You bastard! I had everything! A career! A home! Immortality, for fuck's sake! And you ruined it!" The singer said to Sean Rockwell, half of her body being that of the beautiful woman he had shot in the head and the other was the twisted putrid abomination that he had fried, electrocuted, and shot. "Cattle die, kinsmen die, gods die, and with strange aeons, even death may die. Immortality is a myth. Nothing is eternal." Sean Rockwell said to the singer as a smirk formed on his face. The singer screeched as she ran towards him on all fours, Sean Rockwell managing to stay ahead of her. After a five hour chase, they had reached the field, the singer being bound in chains of adamantine covered in Old Norse runes.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Upper Hills District
Fitzgerald House
5:30 pm.

"I am certain they will grow up to be proper, and respectable citizens Mr, and Mrs. Fitzgerald" Sir Dunn said as he smiled at the children. After a few minutes arranging themselves in the proper order of the table for dinner Sir Dunn got the chance he wanted earlier when it came to telling about his wife. "Elizabeth is well at least physically, but the doctor says she is suffering another bout of depression again. This replacement we have while the city psychiatrist is away in New Orleans might just be on to something. He says that resting therapy is actually making women with mental afflictions worse, and has proscribed an ardous regimen of outside activity for my dear wife".

Sir Dunn decided to take a small sip of water from a glass before continuing. "Apparently while on vacation the city hospital had to bring a replacement after some dreadful affair in the village district. Its the strangest thing...an entire family gone, and the chil.." Sir Dunn realized the fact that children were at the table. "Well, perhaps its best to continue that line of discussion after dinner, but as for my wife she is markedly improving. I fear however that she is now spending too much time in the garden using it to hide from her grief...I am at a loss as what to do".

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
The Wayside
Time Unknown

As the chains continued to bind the former singer the stranger which guided Sean came up from the ground. "The last of the awakened souls have been put back to sleep" he said as he turned to the bound singer. "All thats left is to deal with you my dear", and with that the stranger uttered one word "sleep". The former singer struggled, but eventually she succumbed to a state of sleep, and the guiding stranger smirked. "It may take a millenia, but eventually even this wretch will face judgment, and be purified of the thing she has become". He turned to Sean, and guided the man to what looked like an unnaturally formed crevice.

"We normally have these things in case the living end up here somehow...all you have to do is trust yourself, and jump in. When you reach the mortal plane seek the merchant, and his friends...you will not be able to use the artifact until the full moon rises in a few days. There are rules to these things after all, but the best course of action is to find the cultists, and their leader. You will need the proper tools to free the thousands of souls trapped by them. Once done their leader the fallen god that has become what you mortals call the 'horror' will become vulnerable".

The stranger continued "Once the souls are free the horror wont be able to replenish his energy when you fight him. Nevertheless he will still be a challenge even against the artifact. He is over thousands of years old, and has had plenty of time, and hosts to perfect his powers. Freeing the souls might even grant you access to weapons capable of putting him down for good. Be warned...he will most likely try, and take you over if he has to shed the current host body".

[Flarbinia]

Sean Rockwell jumped into the crevice, freefalling for half an hour. First was dim light, then blackness, then nothingness, then bright light.
Merchant of Death's Townhouse. Downtown District. Oklahoma City
When he woke up, he found himself surrounded by several men in blackish brown robes. "That bastard tricked me!" Sean Rockwell shouted. "Hold your fire. You are among friends now. You saved my daughter. Thank you for going out of your way to save her. Consider yourself lucky that you arrived here." The leader of the men said to Sean Rockwell as he lowered his hood. "So you are the merchant? Well, you better give me what I need to beat the leader of the cult that is running Club Casablanca. Bastard got the jump on me and the only weapon I can use against him is out of order until the full moon." Sean Rockwell said to the Merchant. "Speaking of weapons, here is your gun. One of the street urchins that used to work for the "Fugee King" managed to take it out of the dumpster behind the nightclub without being noticed." The merchant said to Sean Rockwell as he handed his revolver back to him.

[Biscaria]

Nell & Edwin Choate
Upper Hills District - The Fitzgerald House

Mimi Fitzgerald seemed to ponder Sir Dunn's words. "Hmm, I see... well, as a fellow horticulturist, I will admit that I am an advocate of gardening's most therapeutic benefits. Now that said, there is such a concept as too much of a good thing..."

While Mrs. Fitzgerald was responding, the others at the table were making headway at the green bean salad. Frank Fitzgerald ate it determinedly, though he also seemed to be listening intently to what his wife was saying. Nell ate hers gratefully, as it was much better than the cuisine they'd been served lately at the refugee district. Edwin, on the other hand, was somewhat hesitant to devour the dish as he was never before a fan of it, but Nell gave him a certain glance and so he set on eating it at once. The children, who one would expect to be most picky, ate the green bean salad rather contentedly, with only Hal playing with the food before Frank gave him a nudge; it would seem that the children, as young as they were, were indeed above all grateful for their current circumstances.

After a few bites of the salad herself, Mrs. Fitzgerald continued her response. "Depression is indeed a hard ailment to beat, being an issue in the mind, though it can be done. It's not good to be too hasty though, and trust things like pills to do all the work. I read somewhere about some island town in the southwest of England - forgive me, for I can't recall the name - where the medical minds cobbled up a pill to cure it. Supposedly, the whole town was awfully depressed after they sent a whole generation off to die in the Soviet War, and they needed this solution to survive. They called it- erm, oh, Splendid? No, no, uh- Happiness? No it wasn't that, er-"

"Joy," responded Frank plainly from his green bean salad.

"Joy!" Yes, that was it, Joy! Well, they had this drug against depression, and the whole town used it-"

"And it worked?" cut in Nell.

"Too well," replied Frank.

""Frank, dear, I'm the one telling the story." responded Mimi to her husband's intrusion. "But yes, it worked too well! The town went from melancholy to mania, and sealed itself off from the world! Supposedly, they thought the rest of England was too much a downer. Can you believe it? According to where I read about it, to this day there still hasn't been any contact."

"Anyway," continued Mimi Fitzgerald with emphasis after a short pause. "The point of that little story is that pills do have their perils, and there is only so much one should rely on them with the state of today's medicine. Now, when my dear sister was ill with melancholy some years back, our doctor - Dr. Milland, oh he was very good! - he gave the following prognosis: either strike at the root of the issue, or get as far away from it as possible. By that, he meant a change of scenery. Now, my sister, she felt very dejected from her ill-fate with suitors. Dear Frank was courting me at the time - with Father's permission, mind you - and I suggested that she take the doctor's advice to heart and accompany us on an excursion to Montserrat. And what would you know, it perked her right up... of course, I suppose it may have helped that she met a very handsome dandy there." She took a short pause as she marveled at her clever storytelling.

"Now sir, I would recommend Dr. Milland's words to Lady Dunn. I know travel has been difficult lately, so perhaps an excursion to the city would be more in order. Or maybe: joining a new society, taking a class, or finding a good book. Of course, the best solution would be one, like in the case of my sister, that fulfills both clauses of the prescription. That's my advice."

The conversational and well-meaning Mrs Fitzgerald smiled, hoping her words of wisdom would be of some aid to Sir Dunn.

[Labstoska]

Good lord it was an actual ghoul, he hadn't seen one in ten years and somehow the memory had still stuck with him perfectly, the one he had to face then had been terrifyingly vicious and that had been one of the tamer examples the one that was currently zooming around the room was an altogether more dangerous breed then the one he had seen in Laggards Burrow, not to mention that it was small girl with a slight obsession with little red riding hood. Alastair attempted to train his revolver on the little girl it's willingness to show it's more bestial nature made the job a slight bit easier, yet Alastair was simply unable to get a good shot on it the damn thing was moving so fast the he was barely able to register it let alone get a good shot all that mattered now was making sure their witness Mr Clairton got out safely. Alastair lunged across the room to Mr Clairton all the while firing his revolver at the vague blur that was the vileblood in order to make sure it couldn't get any closer to Alastair and to a lesser extent Mr Clairton. He grabbed the back of Mr Clairton's wheelchair and shoved him out of the room, while shouting "Alright everyone, there's a vileblood in the building leave now if you don't want to become a depraved puppet I would suggest leaving now". He then stepped back into the room and began reloading his revolver, although considering that things speed Alastair doubted it would be of much use.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Downtown District
Merchant of Death Townhouse
5:35 pm.

The merchant sighed, and said "It is unfortunately more complicated than you realize my friend...without the artifacts overwhelming ability you have to do it the old fashioned way. Over the centuries as the 'horror' would set up shop, and inevitably be defeated it became something of an art, but no one was ever truly able to kill it. The thing would simply slumber or infect a new host, and then go to another continent. It has one big weakness in its current form...the very thing it uses to ensure both its, and its followers immortality, and powers. Used to be it fueled itself off of war, but its much easier just to trap souls, and feed off of them".

The merchant grabbed a lamp, and moved over to uncover something revealing a picture of St. George, and the Dragon. "This things tale goes back aeons, and has taken many forms. St. George even once fought it after freeing the souls trapped. As for what you need...there are two stages to this plan. The first is that the club will ultimately be reestablished, and the horror, and its cultists will need to be dealt with".

The merchant took out a book, and after a minute of reading he spoke up again. "You cannot actually kill them, but on the night before a full moon the horror, and his underlings will need to be lured to another site. Any major trapping spell if done right will hold them, but only until the full moon rises. Until then you have to use certain rituals to weaken the force being used to blind the souls to their true condition. Once they become aware...those responsible for handling the dead will try to intervene, and break the spell trapping them".

"Imagine anything you know about the grim reaper, and throw that out the window...those in charge of the dead are more like Charon the river ferryman of the styx. Most souls know where to go naturally after death unless something happens...then they get involved, and try to free them. So once that happens all you need to do is activate the final part of the ritual as the force holding them hostage will be weakened from the rituals you commence, and the attacks by the keepers of the dead. With the food supply gone, and the rising of the full moon be prepared to face the might of the horror in its purest form. The artifact will hurt it, but this thing is the combined malevolence, rage, and malice of several millenia within one body...so it will take quite a few hits".

[Flarbinia]

"There is just one itsy bitsy flaw with your plan. I ain't Merlin or Houdini. How the fuck is drawing chalk drawings on the floor and chanting nursery rhymes supposed to help against men with guns and monsters that would give HP Lovecraft a heart attack? I was told that you could provide me with what I need to use against The Horror, yet all you do is give me a history lesson and ask me to perform miracles." Sean Rockwell said to the Merchant of Death, his annoyance with the man evident in his voice as he stared at the merchant.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Upper Hills District
Fitzgerald House
5:35 pm.

Sir Dunn pondered the words Mrs. Fitzgerald told him, and after a minute replied in kind. "I believe I shall try to take Elizabeth out to the city before the military turns downtown into a war center. Surprisingly the current state of militarization in the downtown district is what they consider "too soft". Regardless of that I suppose the market might be willing to still hold the festival of the full moon. I recall one of the papers saying the full moon will be completely visible the 21st".

Sir Dunn spoke up "Elizabeth is always fond of trying to get stuff there, and reports state it will be the biggest one of the year since they might not be able to host them next month. I will take your words into consideration Mrs. Fitzgerald" Sir Dunn seemed finished at first, but turned over to Mrs. Choate. "Before I forget I hear the city funded apothecarist league will be making presence at this month festival perhaps you can find somewhere there to aid your search on the meaning of the necklace? It had just occurred to me since I saw them putting up signs in the markets a few days ago, but it slipped my mind until now". As soon as he finished he started eating the green bean salad not wanting to dissapoint Mrs. Fitzgenerald.

[Biscaria]

Nell & Edwin Choate
Upper Hills District - The Fitzgerald House

Mrs. Fitzgerald seemed flattered by Sir Dunn's consideration of her advice. "I'm glad to have been a help, Sir Dunn. You mentioned a full moon festival? I say, I don't think I've ever been to the full moon festival in the city. Frank, we should go!"

Frank Fitzgerald looked straight at her. "Perhaps."

Knowing her husband, Mrs. Fitzgerald seemed satisfied with his answer. Meanwhile, Nell considered Sir Dunn's remark about the apothecarist league making an appearance at the festival, and the potential that they may have answers about her necklace.

"An apothecary league? Well, perhaps Edwin and I should pay a visit," replied Nell. Edwin gave a worried look, not liking the sound of a "full moon festival," thinking it to be likely occult influenced; Nell either didn't notice or ignored it. "I believe my necklace here may have gone through one of those organizations in New England. Owing to the trouble with occult there, even benevolent groups with mystical tones are not very public; we don't - or didn't - have things like full moon festivals, as you said. Not that I know of, anyway. In our time here in Oklahoma, I don't think I've been to one of them either. That said, Sir Dunn, perhaps it may be worthwhile to change that."

"Nell, dear" said Mrs. Fitzgerald, taking notice of the necklace being discussed. "May I say, it is a very nice necklace you have there. There's a little bit of mystery to it; an allure almost calming. If we go," she gave Frank a look, "I must see if those apothecaries would furnish one for me!"

"Well, perhaps!" replied Nell, not knowing quite what to say. "I suppose they could, perhaps."

--

Mimi Fitzgerald finished her green bean salad not long after the previous conversation, and she noticed that everyone else was either finished or coming close to doing so. She motioned to Ruth the waitress, standing near the wall, and she came right over. Mrs. Fitzgerald whispered something to her, and the waitress left the room. Not long after that, the waitress came in with a tray of full plates. On each plate was a good portion of pot roast, with carrots, onions, and spices, along with a mass of mashed potatoes.

While everyone was served, the waitress came around with a bottle of tasteful-looking red wine. She poured some for each of the guests (excluding the children, who were contented with water). After Ruth finished, Mr. Fitzgerald thanked her again.

"With our guests here tonight, by chance, I've decided to serve a very nice Bordeaux," stated Mrs. Fitzgerald proudly, commemorating the occasion. "Vintage 1934, interwar! Now, let's hope that peace prevails for the future, our future, and that we all enjoy good health, life, and fortune!" She raised her glass in a toast. "I also hope that you'll all enjoy this meal very much; Marion does prepare a wonderful pot roast!"

Mr. Fitzgerald raised his glass as well, and so did Nell and Edwin. The children joined in with their water glasses.

"Hear, hear," stated Frank Fitzgerald, in response to his wife's declaration.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Downtown District
War Veterans Assistance Center
5:35 pm.

Nelson struggled to keep up with the bestial child as it zipped across the room giggling, and attempting to cut at Nelson, Townsend, Allister, and others. After reaching in his pocket he grabbed out a clove of garlic, and took out a small knife in his other pocket. He proceeded to quickly crush up one of the garlic cloves, and cut open his hand bleeding over the garlic. Nelson had a theory that the vilebloods overwhelming urge for blood would trick it until it got close enough to the garlic to get disoriented. As the blood dripped down his hands the vileblood stopped, and began sniffing clearly the trick was working for the moment.

Nelson grabbed the garlic in his one hand, and lured the small vileblood out of the room with his other hand squeezing out drops of precious blood. The vileblood though easily able to disguise itself in public was desperately trying to get every drop it could as it following the trail. Soon it followed them into an open room with large glass windows that were covered at the room. With a snapping of fingers Townsend rushed to open up the blind as Nelson threw the crushed garlic into the vilebloods face disorienting it. The vileblood struggled to get away from the harmful rays of the sun as the garlic left it extremely disoriented.

[Flarbinia]

Refugee District 2. Oklahoma City
"Any news, Milos?" Luca "The Carpenter" Soprano asked Milos. "Some small time hoods from Refugee District 3 tried to muscle in on our turf. Call themselves The Leopards. Killed seven of our boys before we sent them limping home." Milos replied, causing Luca to become steamed. "Those bastards got a lot of nerve. I want them dead. I want their families dead. I want their homes burnt to the ground. We can't afford to look weak in the eyes of the Triad and the Columbians." Luca "The Carpenter" Soprano said to Milos. "Right away, boss." Milos replied before heading to inform the men about the Don's decision.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Downtown District
Merchant of Death's Townhouse
5:36 pm.

The merchant chuckled "My friend, not everything in the world can be solved with mere bullets or weapons of overpowering glory. Sometimes the solutions are a little simpler than that. There are forces at work that can...with the right methods be summoned for ones personal use. The occult in its entirety isn't negative, but lately the people that have been using it are filled with negative intentions. You may not think these things may work, but you will go meet someone who will cause you to reconsider your outlook".

The merchant continued "You may think these things impossible, and mock them, but haven't these last few hours shown you otherwise? There is a festival coming near the markets soon to celebrate the arrival of the full moon. They are part of a group that works with stuff like this, and could definitely help you with trapping the horror, and his servants. So do pay them a visit before the city curfew goes into effect, and you will get what you need". As the merchant finished he began to collect his books, and put them away.

[Flarbinia]

Merchant of Death's Townhouse. Downtown District
"Did I not just say that they have guns? Some dusty old book and some fancy words ain't gonna keep a bullet from goin' through my skull. If you are referring to the Chinamen, I bet that they will at least give me a straight answer." Sean Rockwell said to the Merchant of Death before heading to Chinatown, his voice indicting that he was pissed off at the man.
Refugee District 3. Oklahoma City
A car rolled up to a butcher shop that paid protection money to the Leopards and stopped, two of the armed men heading inside before the rest exited the vehicle. "This city belongs to Luca Soprano. Pay the Don or the handyman is going to cost you an arm and a leg." Aeneas Firenze, a recently promoted Capo, said to the butcher before the man next to him pulled out a Molotov cocktail, the sounds of gunfire echoing outside for a few minutes before stopping, one of the other mobsters calmly walking inside. "Looks like the cavalry ain't comin'. Alright, I'll pay up." The butcher said to Aeneas before emptying a tin can full of pocket change onto the counter, Aeneas taking the money before leaving, the mobster with the Molotov placing it back in his pocket.

[Benuty]

March 17th, 1962
Oklahoma City
Downtown District
Merchant of Death's Townhouse
5:36 pm.

Sir Dunn spoke up to Mrs. Fitzgerald "Oh yes, its usually a more quiet affair, but the committee in control of the market wants a big spectacle to ...distract from the current situaiton". Sir Dunn then turned over to the choates, and noticing Edwins look "Oh don't worry my friend the league is more interested in healing people than doing anything to hurt them. They have a proud history going all the way back to the days of the earliest colonies. The Oklahoma chapter has always been a bit odd".

Sir Dunn after sipping from his glass, and wiping his mouth spoke up. "I suppose I should clarify they have been odd in the sense they were founded by those on the fringes of Columbian society. When this area was still a territory Yankee veterans came to settle down, and live in peace as the borders between Columbia, and the U.S opened back up. They were a bit controversial at first deciding to use a version of the U.S flag from before the war between the states. It didn't earn them many fans, but it did earn them the respect of some of the more hardy locals."

Sir Dunn continued "After their chapter was founded, they welcomed in natives from tribes who had lost their land after supporting the union, and managed to even help some tribes get their property back. They were also the first major institution in the area to welcome in Freedmen especially women. This area was chaotic during the war between the states, and some of the big names of the time chose to free their slaves, and arm them. I believe you all know one of the families I am talking about?". Nell thought for a second, and spoke up saying "Lord Cashton?".

Sir Dunn smiled saying "Exactly, not many people know his family had 6,000 slaves, and were coming from New Orleans to settle the area. His ancestors freed them all to form a militia to bring order back to the area. As a result when the empire was formed sometime later all of those freedman were granted rights, and their wives went on to join the new chapter here. Suffice it to say, even when the U.S collapsed the local league chapter still waves the pre-1860s U.S flag proudly. I can respect them for that committment...even if that type of pan-americanism is sadly...not achievable".

Sometime later after chatting amongst the dinner companions the nights main entree course was beautifully set out by the house servants. Sir Dunn had grown to appreciate the people here even as life, and his plans had gone from one direction to the next. When the time came, and when Sir Dunn had to do what was right he hoped in some small fashion none of the people at this table suffered too much. Despite leading the branch of this global organization he wasn't out of touch with the suffering he had inflicted upon millions. When the ashes settled humanity will have a brighter more permanent future as the immortal servants to a new, grand, and glorious god.

Sir Dunn wasn't blind to the challenges he faced at the moment such as the rogue detective Nelson who foiled his daughters nearly successful operation in Laggards Burrow. Sir Dunn remembered the shock on his face a year ago when his advisors informed him of how much human blood, and sacrifice it would cost to begin the end of this old age. "Five percent of humanity will remain Sir Dunn...theres no other way" the words from the decrepit Soviet scientists turned sympathizer nearly caused him to vomit. Yet if Nelson got his way then the universe would end, and all of the suffering, and death would have been for nothing...humanity would be slaves to mortality yet again. Sir Dunn decided to keep up the charade, and raised his glass as well joining them in their toast...he thought "No harm in letting them think on false hopes in the meantime".

[Flarbinia]

Chinatown. Oklahoma City
"The Polack informed us to expect a gunslinger." The teenager standing behind the counter said to Sean Rockwell as the gunslinger entered the herbal remedies shop. "I can assume that you are Dai? You are a little young to be owning a business" Sean Rockwell said to the teenager. "No. I am Shu. My father is giving the Triad their cut of the profit." The teenager said to Sean Rockwell. "Your father works for the Triad?" Sean Rockwell replied. "They supply him with Opium. He provides him a cut of the den's profit." Shu said to Sean Rockwell right before Dai walked into the shop. "How did it go?" Shu asked Dai. "Without a hitch. Now, get the family heirloom." Dai said to Shu before turning his attention to Sean Rockwell. "The Merchant of Death told me that you need some help. However, unlike him, I am smart enough to know that you are going to need more than esoteric words and elaborate rituals to defeat a cult that has guns and monsters." Dai said to Sean Rockwell as Shu returned with a set of armor minus the helmet, the plates covered in incantations. Sean Rockwell put it on. "Now that you have proper protection from the threats you face, go meet my cousin. He owns the bookshop down the street from here. He can provide you with the incantations and rituals needed to defeat the cult." Shu said to Sean Rockwell, the gunslinger heading down the street.

[Flarbinia]

Rico's Junkyard. Refugee District 3
Aeneas Firenze and his bodyguard walked into the local junkyard, an old man exiting a shack to see who had shown up. "Who the fuck are you? You don't look like Leopards." The old man said to the Capo. "The Leopards are done dealing, Rico. Pay up or they'll find you in a shallow grave." Aeneas Firenze said to the junkyard owner as twenty men showed up, all armed with PPSHs and Lugers. Aeneas and his bodyguard ducked behind cover as they opened fire, Rico heading back inside the shack. They returned fire, killing ten of their attackers before getting back behind cover. "No, Carlo. Save that for later." Aeneas whispered to his bodyguard as the man reached for the Molotov, seven shotgun blasts coming from the window of the shack, causing their attackers to turn around. Aeneas got out from behind cover and opened fire on the remaining Leopards, filling them with lead. "Thank you for helping me deal with those troublemakers. It ain't much, but it's the best I can do." Rico said as he handed Aeneas forty Confederate gold coins, the two mobsters leaving.
Philip's Hardware. Refugee District 3
"Hello. How can I help you?" The shopkeeper asked the three mobsters that entered his store. "You're Philip, right?" The mobster in the fancy suit said to the shopkeeper. "Yes, I am. How can I help you?" Philip said to the mobster. "Nice place. You might need protection. Shame if something were to happen to it." The mobster said to Philip, the storeowner's smile turning to a frown. "Who do you think you are, demanding money from me like that?" Philip said to the mobster. "I am Milos Galante. Capo to Don Luca "The Carpenter" Soprano." The mobster replied. "The man who overthrew the "Fugee King" and took over Refugee District 2? Screw the Leopards. I ain't dying for them." Philip said to Milos as he emptied the cash register and handed its contents to the mobster, his face and voice filled with fear.

[Biscaria]

Nell & Edwin Choate
The Upper Hills District - The Fitzgerald House

Following the toast, which proceeded amiably enough, the Fitzgeralds sat down to eat their main course. The children followed their lead, and so did Sir Dunn and the Choates; Edwin seemed much happier about this delectable pot roast than the green bean salad from the last course.

Some more chatting occurred at the table, mostly about little things. Mimi and Nell discussed literature, Edwin tried small talking to Frank with little success (while not much of a conversationalist, the Choates knew that Frank Fitzgerald certainly was not dim in the slightest), the children attempted to talk some more among themselves but were thwarted by distance and the proximity of adults; they mostly were quiet.

--

In the table conversation, Mrs Fitzgerald finished speaking to Nell. "...and that was a good read as well. I'm quite fond of Austen, Nell, as you know. What do you think? Dickens or Austen?" After Mrs. Fitzgerald asked this, she drank a sip of wine.

"I'd say they both have their moments, really. It's hard to choose between them, and you know my reasoning!" responded Nell.

"Alright, whatever you say!"

The women both laughed. At this dinner, Nell felt more alive than she had in weeks! It was almost enough, though not quite enough, to forget about the horrible trauma going on in the world at this time. To Nell it was no wonder that the Fitzgeralds became their dear friends in the time they'd been here!

As the women were talking, Edwin stared across the table at Sir Dunn warily. He noticed how that parlormaid from earlier, Lizzie, had frozen up at the sight of him. He sensed something was off about the man, despite his suave, and he didn't really like it; the intense knowledge of the occult that Sir Dunn possessed didn't help. However, Edwin tried not to show this apprehension to Sir Dunn, and focused mostly on his meal. He also struck up a small conversation with the girl Rita to his side.

"So, do you like to garden?"

"Yes," replied Rita.

"Very nice. It's a good hobby to have... Mrs. Choate likes it. Where are you from, Rita?"

"Stillwater."

"Ah, that's... north of here, I believe?"

"Yes."

"And your-"

"I don't want to talk about it, please."

Rita returned to her meal with a rather hardened demeanor for someone about ten years old, and Edwin returned to his meal rather embarrassed for even thinking about bringing up the matter of her family as small talk.

"Yes, well, erm, I understand."

Meanwhile, after speaking with Mimi, Nell turned to Sir Dunn. After all this time, Nell had a personal interest, like Edwin, about how Sir Dunn had such a knowledge of the occult. However, she was less wary about the harm of it than Edwin, and saw her following question more as dinner conversation than a matter of grave importance.

"This certainly has been a fine evening, and this meal is certainly divine!" She finished eating one of her last bites, chewed, and swallowed. "Now Sir Dunn, I've wanted to ask you something for a while, if you don't mind me asking, that is. From what you told us before, you seem to have a great knowledge of mystical topics; when did you first notice the interest? I know you mentioned at some point before a Chinese servant?"

"A mystical Chinese servant?" piped in Mrs. Fitzgerald, having missed the earlier conversation in the parlor while changing upstairs. "Do tell!"

[Flarbinia]

Mister Cho's Bookstore. Chinatown
Sean Rockwell walked into the bookstore and rang the bell fifty times. "You don't have to be so loud! Is it a little late to be buying dime novels?" The shopkeeper said to Sean Rockwell. "You're Dai's cousin? He said you could help me with a cult I have been tasked with exterminating." Sean Rockwell said to the shopkeeper. "I am Mister Cho. So you want to learn Ancient Chinese magic? Follow me." Mister Cho said to Sean Rockwell as the two headed into the back and climbed down a ladder. "My wife is the one who knows all the incantations, chants, and chalk drawings. I only sell the grimoires Mei Zhen wants to part with." Mister Cho said as he pressed a button, opening a door that revealed a room with a woman tossing bones into a brazier. The walls were covered in Zhou Dynasty trinkets and charms, manuscripts written during the Qin Dynasty piled in a corner next to several potions, scrolls dating back to the Han Dynasty meticulously stacked on a shelf on the other side of the room.

[Flarbinia]

Sergei's Pawn And Gun. Refugee District 3
Aeneas busted into the backroom, the gamblers and dealers frozen in fear as Carlo removed the surrendering security guard's gun from its holster. "This ain't a robbery and we don't want your money. This is a hostile takeover. Don't bother calling for help. My boys have this block locked down tighter than a nun's asshole. Who's in charge around here? I would like to have a word with him." Aeneas said to the crowd, a man in a green and purple business suit walking away from the bar. "You don't just walk into my place with a gun, announce you're taking over, and expect me to go down without a fight." The man in the business suit said to Aeneas. "What's your name? I can tell by your suit and colors that you were a Capo for the Vincenzo Family before the military crackdown." Aeneas asked the man in the business suit. "Joe Galba, small fry. I suggest that you take your man somewhere else and I might let you live long enough to regret crossing me." The man said to Aeneas, the Lupo Family Capo responding with the pull of a trigger, Joe Galba falling over with a hole through the top of his head.
Gaia Exotic Flowers. Refugee District 3
"The Lupo Family is looking to invest in your casino, Mister Bailey. We pay better than the goddamn Leopards." Milos said to a mustached man wearing a three-piece suit and a bowler hat as he handed him a wad of hundreds, the smell of fish and chips on his breath indicating that he was not one of the locals. "Indeed. This arrangement will be most beneficial, provided you can safeguard me and my associates from those ruffians. They have been bleeding businesses, legitimate or otherwise, dry since the butcher shop, junkyard, and hardware store stopped paying up. Doubly so for independent racketeers like myself. You won't have to worry about any resistance from the others. I believe it is called the Domino Effect." Bailey said to Milos as he took the money. The Leopards were tough enough to eliminate their rivals and intimidate business owners, but they were terrible businessmen, unable to understand the intricacies of setting up fronts or running gambling operations, forcing them to allow small time racketeers to keep running their operations in exchange for a piece of the action.