Fantasy The MPC Rushes Story, Cont.

[ArtBlott]

Blott had never been to London, but now didn't seem like a good time to go touristing. She dipped her pen into the pool of black ich she had expelled and flicked the lever on the side, drawing the darkness into its' inner cartridge.


She considered seeing if anyone had any paper, she could use some new shoes if she was going to keep running like this. It turned out there wasn't time, as once again she heard Genevieve's cry of alarm, and it was back to running again.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth was still reeling from the fight with Thanatos, but she willed herself forward. The manhole yawned, ominous and black, and for a moment she didn't want to go down there.


"Stop being such a baby," said a voice in her mind, and she started for the manhole without really intending to.


"Wait!" she thought back, "What are you doing?"


"Saving your skin," was the reply as she started lowering herself down.

 

[slee77]

"Follow me...I know an old American passage used during the bombings. It's in the Chelsea neighborhood.the Americans wouldn't be in there just yet and that should lead to another system of tunnels that will allow us to move all over central London."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth waved a weary hand at Fitz.


"Lead on," she said, "My preferred genre is Fantasy, not History or Historical Fiction, so when it comes to matters like this I'm afraid I'll be pretty useless."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve narrowed her eyes, concentrating too intently on the nearby rooftop to hear the discussions of their next move. She'd seen something--someone--there in the shadows. Watching. She was sure of it. She felt a now-familiar cold dread take hold in the pit of her stomach. Dropping Altamonte's hand she took a step toward the building on which the shadow had appeared. But maybe one menace was enough to contend with for now...


Shaking her head vaguely, she murmured, "Yes...lead on, Fitz."

 

[slee77]

Altamonte turned the corner over to an underground sign that was written in Olde English Red Font on a white placard that read "The Royal Brough of Kensington and Chelsea"….."This is it…if we are in the 40's this should still be a nice working class area. American Soldiers will be all through here in the coming weeks though and more will be coming through here as the war pushes through…let's try not to go through to many of the rations as we don't know how that might change history."

 

[ArtBlott]

"Nazis. Actual nazis." Blott shook her head. She was not a time traveler. Or a world maker. She could feel the cold numbness of shock trying to settle in her gut. But if no one else was slowing down, then neither was she. She decided to freak out later and took her hat off.


Her crow fluttered over, landing neatly on the crown of her head as she replaced her hat. No sense in alarming the locals in any case.

 

[slee77]

I start to throw light around the large cavern filled with crates and crates of supplies. "Be on the look out!! Do wander to far…and again try not to do anything that might affect history in here""Id like us to still have won the war!"

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Another dark hideout. Another dusty floor.


Genevieve lowered herself to the floor, sweeping clean a small spot in the debris. Not that it really mattered--her pants were streaked with mud, the knees filthy, a small tear ran down the sleeve of her blouse. She leaned her head back against the rough brick wall of the bunker. She was still barefoot, and her cold feet ached. The overstuffed chairs and crackling fire of the Sitting Room felt like a lifetime ago. Her friends seemed lost in their own thoughts as they made themselves as comfortable as possible--groans and winces could be heard from each as they settled on the floor and on crates.


"Lisbeth," she said, her voice echoing in the strange silence that had settled over everyone. "Do you think Thanatos is really gone?"

 

[Arkadious]

-The air is stifling and occasionally the cavern shakes and dust fills the air as the surface above is bombarded by the Nazis. Fitzgerald holds a lantern high, lighting the way as he leads the party down the winding passages towards the American passage. Everyone pauses briefly to take the bare minimum of supplies from the crates, heedful of Fitz's warning about possibly altering the time line. But what if it's already altered? Who's to say the passage did not bring them out into an alternative London of the 1940's? Something tickles at the back of Fitz's mind as he leads the party, how to most minor of details from when he was last here are just ever so slightly out of place. The way a word is spelled on a packed of dried fruit. The number of steps between this terminal and the next. With a shrug, he dismisses it as exhaustion from everyone being wound up so tight the past day or so...


-As the follow Fitzgerald, Genevieve can't shake the certainty that she saw someone, or something, on the roof above them before they took to the subterranean. Occasionally, she casts a look over her shoulder, trying to see if the figure is following them but unable to discern anything in the winding passage stretching out behind them...


-After walking for a decent stretch, the group reaches the bunker the Fitz had mentioned. Everyone spreads out and looks around, each lost in their own thoughts. Genevieve calls out to Lisbeth as she clears a spot on the floor against the far wall...

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth shook her head.


"I don't know," she admitted, "but... I don't think so. Not for good, anyway. He went through another rift, so I think maybe he's just sealed out of this reality for now."


She sighed and pushed her glasses up as she rubbed at her eyes.


"I'm guessing he'll find a way to follow us eventually. Until one of us can figure out a way to destroy him, he'll keep coming after us."


She fingered the red stone in her pocket. What was it? Who's voice had she heard coming from it? And should she tell her companions about it?


Trust no one. The voice of Arkadious's shade echoed in her mind, but could she even trust him?





"If you're going to fight beside these people, you're going to need to show them a little trust," said the voice in her head.


"Damn it," she thought back, "Why are you suddenly aware now?"


"You're the one who called me out to fight Thanatos. I would think that a little gratitude was in order."


"Please tell me you're the only one in there."


"Yes, it's just me... Well, anyway, that was exhausting, so I'm going to sleep for a bit."





Lisbeth blinked, hoping that the exchange in her mind hadn't shown too much on her face. She thought for a moment. A red stone. A pocket watch. She felt like she had seen that combination before, but so much had happened in such a short time.


"A red stone and a pocket watch..." she muttered aloud.

 

[ArtBlott]

Having reached the underground safe house, Blott wasted no time finding a corner and sitting down heavily, prying her shoes off. They had need better days, now covered in scuffs and dust, so very different than when she had put them on..when was that? This morning? Sure, this morning.


Still, these were not shoes for running and jumping and fighting the forces of evil. She smiled and twirled her pen around. A quick rummage around a crate uncovered some packing paper wrapped around bottles of medication and bandages. Good enough. She flattened a sheet out onto the floor and made the first few lines.


As she drew, the ink spread on its own, adding in detail and shades as she went. A new pair of shoes, looking similar to laced combat boots, though with a feminine touch, stood proudly on the page, already polished to a shine. Before the ink could dry, she stood and shook the page, as though airing out an old sheet. Twin thuds could be heard as the page emptied itself. Pleased with her work, the artist sat down and pulled them on.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

As Blott's new boots hit the floor Lisbeth thought that her jaw might do the same.


"Wait... you're an Artist?!" she cried, "But- I-I mean- They were- And you- H-How-"


She trailed off in a fit of sputtering. It seemed that, for once, the Writer was at a loss for words.

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

"Well," Genevieve piped up. "That's useful! Will those last? Because I could use some boots myself!" She wriggled her toes at the Artist. "I'm rather partial to riding boots."


But a thought played at the back of her mind. That's my ink... She will become just a hungry shadow...


All these extraordinary powers, Genevieve thought. But in each of us, some darkness lurks.

 

[slee77]

"Hey ummm maybe my memory is a bit fuzzy or perhaps it has been all the excitement over the last few days but do any of you remember something called "Dried Blood Fruit" I mean peaches sure but I have never heard of Blood Fruit." Fitzgerald points to a large dark green container behind him with black sprayed on words Dried Blood Fruit.

 

[ArtBlott]

"You never asked," came the muffled reply from her hat ,"I don't come by it naturally though."


Blott turned and looked at Genevieve's wiggly toes. "Yes, they'll last through anything but fire. Apparently the ink is waterproof." She knelt back down with a new piece of paper, the one she used now suddenly brittle and crumbling. She frowned. Heavyweight paper lasted so much longer. A pity. She'll have to ration the rest she found.


A few minutes of careful penmanship later, Genevieve was presented with a new pair of pristine riding boots...though weirdly monochrome.


Fitzgerald's question gave her pause. "You don't suppose they meant blood oranges, do you?" She asked hopefully

 

[slee77]

"Ladies?"

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

"Thanks Blott!" Genevieve called. Distracted by the new boots, only half paying attention to the question, she didn't look up at Fitz as she answered, "No, never heard of it."


Then a thought hit her like something physical, brought into being by Lisbeth's muttering.


Blood. Red stone. Pocket watch.


Fitzgerald.


The Other had warned Lisbeth not to trust the jumper. She eyed him across the room as he ran a hand over the label on the oddly marked crate.


Don't do this, she thought. Don't second guess. You almost sent him to his death once, and he's never done anything but fight and care for you. You can't place more value on a monster's words than on what you see right in front of you.





Though she waved it away, though she looked on fondly as he sorted through packages with a furrowed brow, her uneasiness wasn't so easily dismissed.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"Blood fruit?" Lisbeth mused, "I may have seen something like that in the Kingdom of Leaves, but never in an Earth-based world."


Picking up on Blott's suggestion, she added: "Yeah, could it be blood oranges?"

 

[slee77]

Fitzgerald turned around "What? What's wrong?" Fitzgerald brought up his gun quickly as he spun around to see something large, black and hairy..with sharp teeth behind Genevieve.It was in motion to go for her throat. Its eye's reflected in the dark giving it a florescent shimmer. He pulled the trigger as its long snout went towards her cheek. The bullet connected. Sending the beast slumping over. "Shit" "Out of the fire…."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"I think you mean out of the frying pan and into the fire," Lisbeth said dryly as she unsheathed her swords again.

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Her eyes widened as she saw Fitzgerald point the gun directly at her.


"Fitz!" she shouted, raising her arms to cover her head.


She felt the blood splatter across her face. With an anguished cry, she fell to the floor. It was several moments before she saw the beast next to her, and by that time she was sobbing hysterically.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth crossed to examine the creature that Fitz had shot, pausing to check Genevieve for any injuries.


"I think she's just fainted," she reported, then she hunched over the furry creature.


"Lumos," she whispered, holding one of the swords aloft, and a pale blue radiance shone from the blade.


"Stars and snows!" she swore, jumping back from the body, "It's a gods-damned werewolf!"

 

[slee77]

Fitzgerald looked at Lisbeth "My Super Secret Time base being destroyed was a Fire…I was gonna say Inferno! This could be Bad…very, very Bad!"

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth heard Genevieve's crying and moved to console her, but hesitated. Instead she elbowed Fitzgerald in the ribs. She'd seen the way he'd been acting toward Genvieve, and Lisbeth had written romances before.


"Now's your chance to comfort her, lover boy," she whispered, nodding toward where Genevieve lay.