"Sounds like a combination of lousy fortune and a relentless nature. No matter. I've gotta go with you on the God idea."
"So what's the plan? I haven't the foggiest idea of what I should be doing right about now, and I'm thinking this is going to be a new world. I mean, let's face it. What do government secrets mean when everyone on Earth almost died at the same time? Not a whole lot. Right now, everyone who is alive is eating breakfast differently, looking at the world differently, waking up differently."
"This is going to be very interesting."
"This world, I think, was on the verge of a serious ecological crisis. I'm not sure why. I'd like to find out why. But you could see the stains on the walls...there is enough chemicals in the smog out there to corrode good marble pretty quickly. And you don't want to know what its doing to your lungs. And you saw the green tint on the yellow paint on the road....thats, my best guess is, trinoxisocolan...which...."
I pause, and pull a page from a textbook out of my memory.
"Highly carcinogenic, apt to cause bronchial infections, and bleeding from the ocular globe....that's eyeball to you and me, and persistent which means that it stays around for a long time, at least three years before it degrades. Now why anyone would be so stupid as to release trinoxisocolan into the air is beyond me. Concentratred Trinox was used on Semper Four as a spray pesticide to kill mindgrubs the Lady Lilandra told me. She said it mutated them so much that they died. So I have to think that what's laying out on the road after it dropped out of the air is probably a mutagen as well."
I pause and eyeball Ed.
"So, thats where it was when Zilla tried to eat Columbia, and I blew the planet to pieces."
I give him a nasty grin.
"So what should we do now?"
Eric
At the moment, I take it you're discussing this while walking through the rubble of Columbus, Ohio.
I'm interested in the last question, too: what are you going to do next?
--M. J. Young
"So even though we saved the world, the planet's atmosphere is still poisonous? That bites."
I think a moment, and then decide on a course.
"Well, time to make like Al Gore and save the planet. Only without throwing tons of fuel by-product into the air through a private jet. So do we have any leads as to the shadowy group doing this? Or do we need to start from a fresh slate?"
I don't think there's anything particularly shadowy about the group destroying the environment. There's plenty of propaganda around about the importance of the American industrial machine. Even if that part's not obvious, there are some recent examples of graffiti conveying the new message of the youth goth culture, that business and government have to stop destroying the environment before it's too late.
--M. J. Young
OOC: (One politically incorrect statement coming right up!) Yeah, but they're Goths. No offense intended, but as a subculture they don't really generate a great deal of respect. And to further kill their liability, they are using graffiti as the communication medium. Who's going to take that seriously?
Anyways, now that I've established myself as the single most narrow-minded individual on GO...
Oh, yeah, happy belated Turkey Day.
IC: "Now, since ecoterrorism isn't an approach I particularly favor, and lobbying takes too much bloody time, I say we look for the illegitimate side of the business/government ties, and wipe them out. After all, the people taking the bribes are protected by law, but the people GIVING the bribes are another story. With some discretion, they could be terminated with little difficulty and the gain would be fairly high; government officals have no reason to act against the voters when they have nothing to gain and an office to lose."
I look at Tadeusz. "In short, we take the fight to the real enemy, and knock them out at the source. We need to study up. Can you Scry or something along those lines? Information will help us far more than brute force at this phase, because I'd like to know how they get the money, and how to cut it off."
At the risk of side-tracking you again (sorry), graffiti does seem to be one of the only mediums for communication that survived the cataclysm. Maybe they were on to something?
The joke of it is, the reason the goths took that direction is that a previous verser, Graeme, infiltrated and influenced their culture to set it up as the environmental activists of the world. However, I don't think either Ed or Tadeusz would know that.
Eric, any response?
--M. J. Young
"I can scry, or clairvoyance, and clairaudience as I would think of it. Scrying is magical which I can do in several ways, but not here. I need someone to point at....I can probably read surface thoughts too, but again, most people's surface thoughts are a jumble of 'my back hurts, I'm hungry, ooh pretty girl, man, the boss is being a real pain today, wonder when lunch is...'".
I answer, and then think.
"I grant you that Goths do tend to be poseurs, needing hidden resources like from a sympathetic mass media directed their way, to really accomplish much to serve as stalking horses for the media, but....there is evidently a structure of them opposing this mess. We might want to take it over."
I think about that for a moment. "I'd hesitate to act on that, but we do need allies and direction, and you are right: they understand this enemy better than I do."
Much as it pains me to admit it.
"I don't know about taking them over, but I do agree we need to contact them. Taking it over would probably be a little messier than I would like, even if it were a political process. I prefer to act, not delegate."
Time to start Goth-hunting. I'm sure the night will bring them out in droves, and surviving clubs will be a good place to search for them.
Do you wish to do anything else during the day, and are you planning to eat hot dogs or something else for your meals?
Given the general destruction here, how do you plan to locate a functioning Goth club?
--M. J. Young
Well, surely this can't be the entire city. We need to move to a more intact part of town. And somehow, I have a feeling the clubs are going to be fairly busy, if any are intact. After all, a lot of people will probably be pretty happy to be alive. Even those who dress all in black.
Besides, all this devestation, but nobody is dead? It's a miracle! (insert choir music here)
I smile at that thought as I move towards a slightly less devestated part of the city. I don't have time to eat, I've got to get a move on.
I stride alongside him.
How to break this to him....in the end, I decide to let reality do its job for me. We walk....
And he might be right about the clubbers. One commonplace in near-death experiences is the desire to share with others. Going against that everyone is sick. And some people in some cultures....it really boils down to What Will These People Do? I know some cultures that certainly would party, and I know others that certainly would not.
If we pass some sort of rock shop, or crystal shoppe, I want to stop and buy any crystals with beneficial vibrations for psionic device creation. Which is not something I do that much, and so I might have to be doing some winging it. Happily, I have read some notes on the subject.
The power levels I am eventually considering could be real scary. But, start small, and make double sure before doing anything is going to be my motto.
Eric
I'll second any motions to purchase crystals, with the advice to use his power as little as possible, or at least keep the effects small and low-key.
"No insult intended, but I'd rather not repeat today. I like being alive."
In fact...(ding! light bulb over head), any shop that sell crystals and such would be a fantastic place to begin the search. Many New Agers who visit those places are tree huggers, Goths, or both, exactly the crowd I'm seeking right now.
"You are a genius." I tell Tadeusz.
You move through the city together; the area of devastation seems massive.
You pass a window, and to your surprise there is a television operating. This is apparently an electronics shop, and they've got a sign next to this four thousand dollar wide screen television that says Virtually Indestructible!.
Apparently one of the Columbus stations is on the air, and carrying a feed from a national news organization.
The report is grim. All reports indicate that the devastation is worldwide, that some sort of total planetary quake has destroyed housing and infrastructure everywhere. There is concern for the populations of such inhospitable places as McMurdo, where the damage to facilities is likely to prove fatal. Remarkably, although billions have been brought to critical condition, as if by miracle very few have died; many report having had out-of-body experiences in which they were visited by a powerful warrior angel that commanded death to release them--and descriptions of the angel are remarkably similar (a composite drawing looks quite a bit like Eric).
Medical teams are taxed to their limits; doctors and nurses were not immune to the disaster, and the few who are not themselves critical care patients are in serious condition at best.
There are also shortages of food and medical supplies, and in some places water supplies have been disrupted by breaks in lines or damage to filtering systems.
In the midst of this, there is an ad for a goth club downtown, announcing that it is open and hoping to see many of the regulars to celebrate the disaster. It is hoped that The Godzillas, who started there, will come back from their road trip to play in honor of the death of their namesake.
A bum on the street who apparently survived the blast comes up beside you while you are watching. "Networks," he scoffs. "Never could trust 'em. Wait 'til PBS is back on--then we'll get the truth of the matter, instead of this alarmist tabloid television."
Most of the crystals in the shops around here are shattered from the explosive force. It may be that precious stones such as diamonds and other hard carbon tetrahedrons have survived, but these have been either looted or stashed by this time.
--M. J. Young
"Well yes." I allow. Its true, after all. I've had four centuries to improve my thinking skills. I now register as a genius on most such tests.
"You personally might like your next world better than this trashed place. I feel a sense of responsibility to it. You, on the other hand, didn't really have a hand in messing it up."
Eric
"Bah." I'm not thinking on crass fury now. "I stood by when I should have acted. I'm partly to blame, and thus I'll help clean it up. Besides, it's not like I've got anything better to do."
I look at Tadeusz and at the TV picture of the angel. "Uncanny resemblence. You may have to beat the crowds back with a stick."
Normally, my reply would be something akin to 'somebody else's problem.' But let's face it: none of this can be really real. Besides, I just killed Godzilla, and I'm feeling larger-than-life.
"So the Goths are celebrating the end of the world, and PBS is considered a reliable news source." I'm thinking aloud right now. "This is going to be an interesting ride, huh?"
I pause as one of his statements registers with me. "What do you mean by 'I'll like my next world better?'"
I just got one of my patented bad feelings. I remind myself this is NOT Eric, regardless of appearance, and his actions are therefore not as predictable as I might like. Not that I could outfight a demigod if it came down to it, but I'm willing to fight bravely and die quickly if it comes down to it.
"I said 'you might', not 'you will'. Your next world might see you landed in The Web of Evil Lights, or in a Haunted House with real ghosts. I've heard of two of those. One with a Voodoo priestess, and the other with some maniac poultergeist out for murder. I've heard of another with a Maniac Poultry-Geist, an undead chicken, but I think, I hope, that was a joke.
And there are places that are worse than that. But chances are, it will be better. On the other hand, you might live here for centuries." I shrug.
"I need to test something." I turn to the bum, and smile. "Sir, I'd like to help you. There may be some risk tho'. And..." I pull out a small silver coin. "If it works, with you, I might be able to help a lot of other people. What do you say?"
If he agrees, I'm going to Pray for the Protection and Blessing of the Archangels which will aid the next miracle, and reduce the chance of botch as separate but cumulative effects. I will then pray to make sure I am in the Will of God.
Then, I will take some oil, anoint the man on the forehead (just a dab), anoint my own hands. With one hand on his heart, and the other held high, I will speak in Latin and in English.
"Let the God of all mercy heal you of your injuries."
Time: One minute.
2@1 Paladin healing (one version thereof).
I'm reminding that we have a flatlined mag bias in this world; I do not see a prayer for protection and blessing coming in below M1@6, so unless you can show me a skill that is @1 I'm not going to roll that. I'm having more trouble with the prayer to be in God's will, for which I might manage to stretch M7@2 Detect Truth to cover it, but that won't work either. They are moot in this case, as I'm assuming a 3@5 SAL for the Paladin Healing, and that puts you over the top.
The man immediately straightens up. "Hey," he says. "You're that angel people saw, the one that was on the television! I thank God that He sent someone to help us. And you," he turns to Ed, "are you an angel, too?"
--M. J. Young
"No." I'm not even going to compare myself to one in a metaphorical sense. "I'm quite human last I checked. I'm just lucky."
To be honest, I don't know if I'm being sarcastic or not.
"Oh, but you're workin' with the angel, right? That counts for somethin', right? Are you a preacher, maybe?"
"Oh," he turns back toward Eric, "an', thank you, sir, for your kindness to me. I'm feelin' much better for it."
He stands there, as if waiting for one of you to say something else.
--M. J. Young
"Well, uh, technically I am a priest, so yes."
I'm using Scripture as my basis, as of this little warp of reality, I hadn't set one foot in a church for over two years. Considered most of them dens of corruption, deceit and political petty gameplaying under a thin veneer of self-righteousness. I'd rather deal with Goths; they don't have as many illusions about their standing with the Almighty.
"Edward, and ..." I look at the guy asking him his name with my face. "I'm not an angel, but I am a servant of God who has been given power. I do make mistakes. In fact, that why things are so messed up. But I'm trying to fix things, and I could use your help."
I tell them what I need, which is largely, to find a woodland church, and a pastor at this moment. After that, its the Goth club.
And I hand Ed the plasma cannon.
"I've reviewed some notes, and prayed a bit. I need you at this church we're going to find with our new companion's help more than an hour before dawn with this plasma cannon, and the Uzi. Be ready to fight off demons or black mages. And you'll be cranking up the cannon for a serious bit of firepower. And if things work out, then the planet will be much better off by 24 hrs. after that."
I recall knocking out Godzilla with this weapon. Granted it took a few shots, but that's more than what I saw missile salvos do to him in the movies.
"What kind of a being would require this kind of firepower?" I asked Eric incredulously. "This thing is overkill against anything shy of a tank or massed infantry."
The plasma cannon will be difficult to conceal, but technically, there are no laws which designate a plasma launcher as a weapon. It is not covered by any anti-gun law to my knowledge.
Of course, I'll go with him. I'm kind of curious as to what he has in mind. It can't be worse than...well, nevermind that train of thought, because it can always get worse.
"I'm Greg Haus.
"A chapel in the woods, you say? Can't say I know one. But I'd ask Father Casey down at St. James'--it's only a few blocks from here, and Father Casey would know whether the Archdiocese has anything like that. He's been with the Lord's work for a long time, and he'd probably like to meet you, whatever you are."
--M. J. Young
"Right. Sounds like as good of a direction as any to go."
Great. I have my prejudices, and I'm not shy when I say most organized faiths are quite corrupt. Still, as long as I approach this Casey fellow as an individual, not a representative of his church, I can deal with it.
Still, he's really Eric's problem, not mine. "You sure you need my help for this one? We could split up. If we can contact these envirogoths before our beloved corporations of global doom can assess their own losses or probable lack thereof, we can maintain the initiative and bring the fight to the real foe on our terms."
"I want to try to heal nearly everyone on the planet while making them take an oath of protecting the Earth....it fails, and millions of people will die. I hate to impose on you, but a Planetary Full Heal is ordinarily way beyond what I'd try, and I sure could use some help. For one thing, the only way I know how to gather enough faith is to drag some of the Greater Reality into the Lesser....which is practically an engraved invitation to Minions of Chaos and Darkness. I hope I don't end up breaking some Seals of Creation which would prove....interesting for certain values of the word."
I let him see what I rarely feel, and even less rarely show. Fear.
"Ah. In short, you are going to be drawing a lot of attention from beings that like things just the way they are, and on top of that, said beings have the right to tear you into little ribbons for messing with the natural order. And since you are going to be wrapped up in spellcasting, you need my help."
I think a moment. "I'm not sure how I feel about that oath. Not everyone contributing to the planet's destruction feels like they are doing the wrong thing. Personally, if the only way I could feed my family was to slash-and-burn the rainforest or to hack down those pines or to process that waste into the nearest lake, well, it's beautiful, but so is my family. Bye-bye trees and lake."
"Just heal them, oath or not. A second chance at life won't mean much to those who can't make anything of it."
"Besides," I smile at Eric. "I think such an indiscriminate act of mercy would irritate those demons hunting you even more, and I have no problem with that whatsoever."
"I'm ready when you are."
I'll assume you head to the church, where you meet a priest in his late fifties, obviously suffering but still working to help others. There are lines of people filling the church, but he immediately notices the two of you. For one thing, you don't appear to be suffering; for another, you're carrying some odd objects one does not usually see on the streets, never mind in church.
He comes over.
"May I help you?" he asks. He gets a puzzled look on his face as he turns to Eric, and adds, "You look familiar; have we met?"
--M. J. Young
"Ok, Ed, then 'be a good steward to the Earth'. Because these people have layers of problems. And I'd like to peel back two at once if I can." I sigh. I do need his help, and who knows, he might be right. My mind is not very clear right now, and I do have a streak of 'dealing with problems' that's earned me the name of 'Sledgehammer of Justice'. After all, if there is a 90% chance that one bomb will destroy the tank, then why not use two, or even three, just to be really sure.
Mercy does not come easy to me.
"You decide Ed. Just keep in mind that mass polution like I'm seeing generally means that everyone has to some degree or another bought into the reigning ideology. DuMartin's Demons would not have operated without the support of the people...." I pause. Oh yeah, that was not from Earth. Earth...."OK. Nazi's need good Germans. Suicid bombers need Palis. Idiots need their support networks, and for idiocy this big, well...it might be everyone. But its up to you."
======
"Pastor, I intend to try to heal the sick the following dawn. I need a woodland chapel of God, and I need your blessing. No, I am not an angel, at least as commonly understood. Neither is Ed. But we do occupy an unusual position that does not fit into your ordinary categories, and I hope to be able to pass on some chicken noodle soup from Heaven's kitchen."
"I've got to oppose this one. If God meant for people to have no chance of defying Him, he wouldn't have left the option open. Let these people learn the worth of the planet the hard way. Few appreciate what they have until it is in serious danger. And I don't think these people are going to remain dumb forever. Have some faith. The Germans tried to kill Hitler at least once, and not all suicide bombers were volunteers. A combination of torture, brainwashing, and threats to loved ones are very effective. I don't think all suicide bombers were praising Allah or the Emperor of Japan with their dying breath."
I think about what I just said and how much of that I honestly believe. " Although, if you must do something, give them the truth, unsullied and uncorrupted. Even some of the corporate bigwigs will stop what they are doing after a dose of that. Even a base creature won't kill himself for money."
Hopefully, this issue will resolve quite peacefully. Apparently, I'm travelling with an agent of the Apocalypse, and may want to be careful how I suggest any ideas that occur to me. Hopefully, he'll remember that humans do human things, and will stay his hand on that thought alone.
"Anyways, I'll shoot anything clearly unholy which tries to kill you over this. That much we can agree on."
The priest gives you a pinning look. "You're not an angel, you say; but you're not a doctor. Who are you? Are you Elijah, returning in the days of the Apocalypse? I confess, I've never been terribly good at eschatological studies, but was that the Beast coming out of the Sea this week? Is this the end of the world? What happens next?"
But he sighs, and continues. "No, don't tell me. There are things we were not to know, or we would have been told. I cannot fathom why you need a chapel in the woods; however, there is a monastery about a hundred twenty miles northeast. If you have transportation I can show you the way; I've not been there in about twenty years, but they had a lovely chapel on wooded grounds pretty far from anywhere, and I can give you a letter of introduction, or introduce you if you take me along. I'm sure they won't mind."
Just to be clear, I'm assuming that we're moving along two time tracks at the moment--the discussion about the spell taking place (in Greg's presence) while walking to the church, the conversation with Father Casey following that. Feel free to advance along both tracks, as desired.
--M. J. Young
"All right, Ed. So be it." I think back to see if I think that will work.
========================
My first reaction is to stare back hard. When I'm in the zone, I can get pretty hard-core. But then I blink at his question as it sinks in.
"I hope not. I'm just trying to straighten out a mistake, and keep you people from turning your world into a chemical waste dump."
Transportation...hmmm. Thats a problem. I think back over my psionic skills to see if I think I can tow a semi-rig trailer up there with TK or something in time to arrive by the dark....cause I'm pretty sure a lot of vehicles suffered major damage.
OOC: I'll work with whatever is going on. Presently I'm just trying to check everyone's favorite Prophet of Destruction from going overboard. Like not using a grenade launcher to go duck hunting. (Although I must admit, when I played Knights of the Old Republic, I did occasionally use Force Persuade on some unscrupolous sorts to insure they did the right and moral thing. It should be noted the act usually killed any Light Side gain I would have otherwise made and I actually agree with that.)
IC: I get ready for pretty much anything. The plasma weapon: I've readjusted the contents of my bag to carry it. It's still sticking out, but it's less awkward for me than carrying it in my hands, and frees them up.
The bizarre dream I'm in certainly hasn't spared me any moral quandries, although I seem to be in good shape so far. I'm just wondering when this dream is going to throw moral conflicts at me that I'm a little more ambiguous on; such as what I like to call ruthless pragmatism. Kinda like what Eric here has in mind, (which he might still do anyways, it's certainly in his ability) only a little smaller in scale and more subtle. Like disregarding the .01% of people who are found posthumously innocent in death sentence cases. Admittedly, accepting 99.99% is rather callous here.
The Uzi I've concealed to the best of my ability. Beyond that, my thoughts have turned inwards.
Yes, a lot of vehicles suffered major damage, and of course ordinary healing spells will work on animals, but not usually on machines.
On the other hand, damage that would kill a man wouldn't do much to a tank, generally speaking and for example, and although at forty miles an hour it will take three hours to cross the distance, there's not likely to be much traffic (other than the obstacles left by damaged vehicles which were on the road at the time). You might even find some vehicles that tough that have better maximum velocities--although again, there's the problem of finding gasoline and the bigger problem of finding a pump to move it.
--M. J. Young
So, we steal a tank? If I survived, badly hurt or not, someone else did too. Probability says that most who would be tough enough to survive a hit like that will be in law enforcement or military.
A tank was an example. There are other vehicles with similar durability which might have survived the blast.
Also, you might ask about the local military. There are some rumors around.
--M. J. Young
"Hey," I get an idea. I turn to Eric. "What about an abandoned riot vehicle? It wouldn't be stealing if we could find one, or maybe you could just persuade the driver of such a vehicle to help us, or rather you, out. You know, for saving his life."
Such a vehicle would probably have been deployed for dealing with people panicking/looting during the Godzilla incident. In fact, several would have been.
Eric nods at the idea of an abandoned riot vehicle. He closes his eyes for most of a minute, then speaks.
"That way," he says, pointing. "It's several blocks, but there is one there. Apparently they were trying to clear people out of the path of the oncoming monster."
You round the corner and walk down a few blocks, and there is a vehicle, well shielded and large enough for six men. It appears to have stalled, but starts right up; it's got three quarters of a tank of gas, if the gauge can be trusted.
"You ever drive anything like this before?" Eric asks. If you say yes, he suggests that you drive, and that you head back to the church to pick up the priest and Greg Haus. "I don't know what Haus is going to do for us, but the Lord seems to have given him to us, so there's probably a reason somewhere."
--M. J. Young
"No, I've hardly ever driven anything." I forget this is not the Eric who knows me. "I want to get somewhere I walk there. You drive. I call Shotgun." I get in.
I'm not sure as to Haus's goals, but what the heck. I'm not sure how we went from communication with Goths to this side track, either. In fact, the only stopping me from leaving both of these guys in my shadow and heading of to do my own thing is the simple fact that my help has been requested, and the planet will be here tomorrow.