Log:Union's Dues: Soul's Flight

Union's Dues 2021/03/15 Helen Union Grimm Connor Viv Felix Amelia 6

Eljudnir, Nairheim

The hall Eljudnir is what seems like a many-day journey from the gates, but can't be more than a few minutes, since you can /see/ the hall from the gates. There are many homes, simply- but well-built, around it. The construction of both is a blend of stone for the weight-supporting elements, good solid wood for the rest, and ice as filler; how the ice keeps from melting when the temperature is above freezing is anyone's guess.

The hall is filled with many trestles, long tables with long benches upon which gather scores, perhaps hundreds or even thousands, of people. A low murmur fills the long, many-pillared place. At the far end, in a simple chair upon a one-step dais, sits a woman; she is flanked by a man and a woman in much finer seats, inhumanly handsome for the one, ethereally beautiful for the other.

The central female is neither -- oh, she has a certain amount of lingering handsomeness about her face, but she is not attractive. What she has, though, is presence. A slowly-progressing line comes in one door, each person stepping up onto the dias to stand what seems but a moment before Hel, Baldr, and Nanna, then walking off and out through the door opposite, often looking a little stunned.

The group has been gathered to discover what the status of the teen heroine Union is; the best lead is that of a self-professed 'apprentice of Hel', who proposed to bring Union and those who would support her to the Norse Land of the Dead, Nairheim, aka Hel -- the latter being the one who rules there. And by all appearances, she did exactly that ...

The hall is filled with many trestles, long tables with long benches upon which gather scores of people. A low murmur fills the long, pillared place. Virtually everyone, coming through the hall, will have come to realize that ... the Dead are /many/ sorts of people, here. Yes, humans, and humans of many sorts, but also light elves and dark, plus jotun of various sorts, regular and fire and ice. Those with familiarity of Greater Faerie will see all of the races represented in some part; dragons as well, albeit of small, 'humanish' size. Plus others, many others, of races not before seen by the eyes of man ... but many human races nonetheless.

After the conversation between (mostly) Hel, Helen, and Union, determining that they would have to go to where souls are, well, sent on from, Helen gives a courtesy to her mistress, and the group draws away in order to allow the Dead to once more approach their queen. Helen mentioned something about talking to fellow apprentices, but also having to learn something, and as anyone knows, learning almost invariably takes time, so many of the living choose to wander amongst the denizen of the Hall. The more they do, the more the conversations become intelligible -- wide-ranging conversations, about almost every topic conceivable.

The conversations continue for ... well, quite some time. The living finish their stories (supplying a surprising amount of detail and number of explanations), and a couple of those with whom they speak share tales from their lives -- and then the living shares another, and another three of the Dead share ones from theirs, and so it goes, the water passed around lubricating throats dry with talking, someone getting up and going to replenish the pitcher from time to time.

After a period that seems far greater than it should -- how much time are you losing on Earth? -- Helen, or one of the Dead sent by her, comes to bring those who have found conversations out of the Hall and back to the goat-cart.

"I have been shown how to get to our next destination," Helen says once all are gathered, "but as they say in New York, you can't get there from here, so we'll be stopping back in Colonial Bay before we move further. I've also been told that it's, well, a rather dangerous trip, both because there are those who would steal souls, and those who guard the place." She gives Tooth-gnasher a final scratch, and limps towards the driver's seat of the double-benched goat cart.

Felix, frowning and fingering a Mjolnir pendant on a long leather thong, climbs into the tail-gunner seat once more.

Radical nods slowly. "Where are we going next then?"

Helen sighs. "The posting-house, I heard it as." She gestures towards Union. "She heard the Transport Nexus, which I suppose means like the one in Colonial Bay. Miss Grimm," and she gestures towards that worthy, "heard Burning Man, though I don't know what /that/ is. It's where souls first go when they die, to be sent to the right place for their judgement."

Viv says, "I guess that makes sense that you can't get there from here. If you want the dead to stay where they're sent then the way from the sorting house shouldn't be two-way."

Radical nods again. "Thank you. Do you think we'll get more answers there?"

Grimm still looks rather skeptical. "I'm just curious...Union, are you, like, norse or pagan? Why is your soul mixed up with this place?"

Helen nods in agreement. "One must go from a world of the living, not a realm of the Dead." She waits until those whom she brought are seated, then flicks the reins for Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjostr to pull forward. "Here?" she says, hearing Grimm's question. "She's not, at least not so far as I'm aware, but Hel is the only Judge of the Dead I know."

Lizzy says, "I don't think it's so much that *I'm* mixed up with this place as much as it is that Helen is."

Helen sighs at Radical's question. "That, though, I don't know. I'll be depending on the older and wiser to ask pertinent questions." She nods to Lizzy. "'Ask where you can get at least pointers towards answers' is my philosophy."

Radical nods in agreement with Lizzy. "Helen is connected here. Hel knows...well, a lot about death. So, she's a good person to talk to about the subject."

"What do you mean, *you* feel a chill here?" Viv asks her scarf Blanche, with a laugh.

Grimm grins at the older and wiser comment. "She must be talking about you," she says aside to Radical.

In only a few dozen yards -- not the long ride back to the Gate -- the goats are trotting on a different stone, and the stale air of Nairheim ripples back into the air of not-quite-noon in Colonial Bay. Once more, Helen is panting and sweating as if she'd undergone a great effort, but nobody's fallen off the cart. Despite the many hours -- days?? -- it seemed you'd spent on the trip there and within the Hall of Hel, only a couple have passed here in the world of the living.

Viv says, "Oh! The trip back was quicker!"

As to where you are, the goats are trotting up and into the turnabout in front of Takaga Mansion -- where you started from.

The cart design: [ |-| ]| goats

Grimm checks her phone to see the date and time once it connects to local networks again.

Helen nods, spent for the moment. "Yes," she says. "And if we needed to go there again, 'twould be as fast as this. Only the first trip must be down the Long Road." She considers, then adds, "If you're with me, anyhow. I don't know about doing it yourself; you would not likely have permission to enter, nor permission to leave."

The reconnecting PDA states that it is experiencing an issue: local networks state it is a little less than two hours after you left on the goat-cart, but its internal systems are insisting that it is nearly a week later.

Viv gets out of the goat cart to stretch her legs, though she's unsure what happens next.

"Huh. Temporal distortion," comments Talia while she watches her PDA (and Grimm's) struggle to reconcile the network time versus its computerized recollection of time. She looks up and puzzledly studies the others as she comments to no one in particular, "Great trip or GREAT trip?"

"A week?" Grimm's eyes widen at the distortion. Of course she's more concerned about that instead of it just being two hours. "I...don't even feel all that hungry."

Viv says, "Yes, I'm glad to be back among the living, too!"

Lizzy says, "A week? I haven't eaten since...the accident."

Helen laughs softly. "Well, now's the time to stretch your legs. And no, you wouldn't. Things don't change down there; it makes learning /annoyingly/ time-consuming. I understand the distortion going up the Realms is in the other direction -- a couple of hours in Aesheim is a week here."

"Keeps down the smell too, I imagine," offers Talia.

Viv says, "I guess we should grab something to eat before going on? I mean - that is, if you still want me along."

Helen makes a face. "I suppose, but -- they aren't corpses, after all, they're souls. Sometimes a few objects, or rather a form of certain objects, make it across, usually ones with some magic in them. Maybe it's the magic that makes the trip." That, unwittingly, will be of help to Felix.

Helen hesitates, then rolls her neck. "Actually, a snack sounds good. Um, Felix, Union, can you ... ?" She gestures towards the house, and shifts in her seat to speak to Viv. "I think you may be of assistance, if you can apply your abilities to combat. The next part is liable to be dangerous."

Grimm hops off the cart to get to stretching.

Radical tilts his head, "Why would there be fighting? What's the danger, exactly?"

Viv says to Helen, "I don't know! I don't know how to fight! At least, I don't think I do. (Yes, I'm sure you could, Claire.) And what if I get hurt?"

Lizzy and Felix goes inside to gather snacks for the others.

Talia hops off of the cart to stretch out. This mostly involves a lot of pacing and trying to pet the divine goats.

Helen shakes her head at Radical's question. "I don't know for myself, but Mother Clewncliff and Matron Harrison both said that there are those who try to seize souls on their way there. And that those who secure the place are zealous -- probably because of the former." She shifts in her seat to say to Viv, "If you are hurt, I will heal you. You overflow with life, actually; can /you/ heal others?"

Tanngrisnir likes to be scritched under his chin; Tanngnjostr likes attention to his ears.

Viv says, "Not that I know of! I never thought of my power like that, though..."

Viv says (to something), "Well, yes, I can wake you up again if you fall asleep, but that's not the same thing, is it? Healing would be like patching you together if you were ripped apart!"

Vigorously scritching Tanngrisnir under the chin while equally rubbing on Tanngnjostr's ears with one hand, Talia looks over at Helen and shrugs a little bit. "Depending on the source material, there are some minor tales that suggest Nidhoggr tries to eat the souls of the dead that pass near the root of Yggdrasil in Niflheimr. And there's always questions about the souls of the dead caught in Ran's net."

Radical nods to Viv, "I only wear light kevlar myself. We might have to be relatively cautious if a fight starts."

Grimm raises a brow at Viv talking to herself. She's said a few odd things before, talking to people who aren't there. "Are you...like...okay?"

Viv says to Grimm, "I'm fine - at least, now I'm back on Earth, yes! Why do you ask?"

Helen nods in agreement. "And having to stay on the cart," she muses. "This could be ... dangerous. I mean, it doesn't come with seatbelts. And I have no idea if the road is, well, bumpy, as it were." She hmms at Talia. "Nidhogg's gnawing is one of the punishments. It isn't a pretty sight. As for the ones Ran gathers, those are hers. The Norse afterlife is organized /very/ strangely, and mostly by method of death, unlike almost everyone else."

Viv says, "Could we get some cushions to sit on, too? There's no suspension, and I'm guessing the cart was meant for someone a LOT tougher than we are!"

Grimm looks Viv over, particularly her clothes, and raises an eyebrow to indicate she knows...something. "Why...are your clothes Awakened? And why would you wear them after that?"

Helen laughs. "I'm used to it, so I never thought of it. Um ... I ... suppose?" She looks towards the house. "Maybe when Felix and Union come back with food?"

As if on cue, that very thing occurs. Lizzy exits the mansion with a tray of sandwiches, and Felix follows with drinks.

Viv looks at Grimm as if she'd asked a really strange question. "What do you expect me to do, go around, naked? And why shouldn't I wear them, if they're happy with that? Shutting then up in a closet all day - now that would be cruel. If I had a closet. I mean, I've met some strange clothes that don't want to be worn, but I don't wear them!"

Viv's scarf folds itself into the shape of crossed arms, as if defending her position,

Helen smiles wryly. "There's a complicated subject," she murmurs, and thanks Lizzy for the sandwich and Felix for the drink, murmuring to Felix a suggestion to leave the tray on the cart and go grab some cushions from the couches and suchlike. Well, at least for Viv. "Anyone else want a cushion?"

Talia, completely oblivious to the discussion of life magic and sapient clothing, continues to rub down the goats. Because they are the best goats. Yes they are. Such good goats!

Grimm mutters, "Yeah, I -bet- they're happy. I guess I'm the weirdo for not wanting to be groped all over by my own clothes. I have it bad enough with a shadow that I half suspect watches me all the time." She glares down at her shadow. The shadow quickly waves off the glare and tries to pantomime innocence.

Viv looks a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, I've met clothes like *that*, too. I don't wear them, though!"

Lizzy watches Grimm's shadow, "Has it ever gotten lost?"

Viv has sandwiches and drink too, to get her strength back for the upcoming journey.

The shadow slinks under Grimm to hide. Grimm nods to Lizzy. "It wanders sometimes. Like an excitable puppy."

Grimm chuckles at Viv. "Interesting. Well...I think I'd prefer my clothes to stay inanimate and spirit-free."

Amelia snorts, "More like an unleashed pitbull."

Felix takes orders (ha!) for cushions, and runs in to get a few. It only takes a little bit, by which point everyone has eaten their food and had a drink.

"All right," says Helen. "Um, Lizzy -- I know you're more of a close-combat sort, so if you can make sure everyone stays on the cart, I think it'd be a good thing. Everyone who's coming ..."

Talia looks up from rubbing the goats. She sighs a little bit and pats both goats on the foreheads. "Good goats. Keep us safe, okay?" With a smile, Talia jogs around the back of the cart to load back up again.

Viv climbs into the cart again, whispering, "No, Tina, I don't think she meant it personally! ... Well, would that be so surprising? She probably hasn't met living clothes before..."

Grimm chuckles at Amelia's comment. "Hey, most Pitties are sweet little angels." Her shadow nods and takes being called a pitbull as a compliment.

Once everyone is on, Helen closes her eyes, then withdraws one of her wands and, turning it with finicky delicacy, slowly and deliberately speaks something in Old Norse. The goats snort at that, and one kicks back with a ferocious hoof, slamming it into the footboard with a resounding *KLOCK* that makes Helen twitch. "All right, all right," she says. "Give me a moment."

Grimm boards the cart again after having snack indulgences. The shadow refrains from eating.

Radical gets back into the cart as well, and waits patiently.

Lizzy says, "So you've never had to have it sewn back on?"

Another few moments of settling herself, and Helen tries again. This time, the goats lean into their traces and start down the drive once again, pulling the cart of living souls forward -- -- and into a long tunnel. White. Bright, though as the cart goes along, there are dark streaks coming up behind, rapidly gaining.

"Hold on --" Helen calls --

-- the darkness resolves as figures of tentacles and claws, ferocious maws --

Viv says, "Uh-oh!"

Lizzy sees a tentacle reaching out for Amelia, and tries to grab it.

Lizzy's grip as the tentacle closes in on Amelia is a firm one, but the 'flesh' of it seems exceedingly rubbery and, well, compressible.

Amelia quickly lifts a hand, palm out, and creates a magical barrier attached to the far side of the cart side some 8m high and 8m in length.

The barrier shields one side the speeding cart.

One long glistening black tentacle ripples down out of the vast whiteness; like the one grabbed by Lizzy, it too seems to have a particular interest in seizing Amelia, looking to wrap around her.

Talia pales a little bit at the glistening, oily tentacles harrying the cart. When a tentacle reaches for Amelia - who appears to be shielding the cart - Talia reaches out for the tentacle. She breathes in slowly and deeply as embers start sparking into existence around her fingers. Carefully Talia attempts to press her palm to the tentacle and set it ablaze with white-hot fire.

Writhing in Lizzy's grip, the trapped tentacle attempts to get away!!

Talia's hand is engulfed in white-hot fire by the time she claps her palm down on the glistening, oily surface. Immediately the fire starts to spread across the tentacle's surface it lashes about wildly, recoiling from the cart as it casts light into the impenetrable infinite darkness around the cart.

Twisting, writhing, the tentacle is unable to pull itself out of the strong grip of Union!

Another of the tentacles writhes down and strikes at the glowing barrier, the claw on its tip pointed and glistening ...

The tentacle's claw slams into the barrier, and seems to get caught for a moment, tearing its way for a foot or so along the barrier; it leaves a deep scar, but the barrier holds.

The protective barrier remains but there are significant cracks in it after the claw attack.

Grimm feels an invisible pressure trying to keep her powers constrained. It takes some extra effort and gritting of teeth as she strains to make her powers manifest. Her shadow remains cowering and hiding beneath her, covering its head protectively even as Gabrielle's hand reaches out and tries to twist reality to her whim. It coalesces slower than usual before from the darkness wreathing her hands, a divine blast of golden energy lances at one of the tentacles.

Grimm pants at just the unleashing of one blast. "Why...was that so hard for me...?" she asks between breaths.

The already-retreating tentacle-on-fire spasms as the holy light impacts upon it; its writhing goes from malevolent to spastic, darkness floating into the air like ink in water as, burning, it flails about.

Radical is pretty restricted to firing at the non-walled side as well. He reaches out a hand...and channels some Chaos magic to the same effect as Grimm's last spell, only slightly less powerful. What leaves his hand is a lance of holy light, streaking toward the tentacle that Lizzy is holding.

Between the fierce grip of the superhero and the sacred light expressed by the mage, the tentacle writhes fiercely, desperately, and then dissolves into so much inky mist -- mist that gets burned away by the everpresent light of the tunnel.

The second of the four (now three) tentacles, also on the protected side, lashes at the mystic shield defending its tasty prey, trying to break through.

The strike from this tentacle impacts next to Helen, shattering the protection it was providing and leaving her potentially open to a further attack.

Helen never expected to be doing /this/; she snaps the reins on the back of the goats, trying to make them go faster, but either they're already doing what they can or else there are rules that prevent them from going faster ... or simply that Helen really doesn't know how to make them do so.

Viv is rather reliant in combat on objects helping her. Unfortunately, other than her clothes, who are generally non-combatants, there isn't much to animate here! Urgently, Viv touches several of the cushions, bringing them to minimal life, and, point at one of the tentacles says, "Save me from that tentacle! Grab it! And hit it against the tunnel!

Maybe soft pillows aren't such a good weapon. In any case, the cushions fail to get a firm hold on the tentacle and retreat to the cart.

-

When Last We Left Our Intrepid Heroes ...

In pursuit of knowledge of the state of Union -- Is she alive? Is she dead?? Where is her body, much less her soul??? -- our motley party of mystic mavins have gone, literally, to Hel. Unfortunately, the Queen of the Norse Dead was less than completely forthcoming, but she at least gave a pointer: a place where, rumor has it, all souls go when they die, to be properly sent on to their destination for judgement.

The short-yet-long near-week the hero's electronic clocks say they spent in that particular underworld turned out to be much less time than it appeared: only a couple of hours, without need of sustenance or, indeed, real awareness of the passage of time. Once returned to the real world, everyone had a bite to eat and something to drink, and then it was off to ...

... a long infinite rush through a tunnel (?) of white, towards a light -- but with ribbons of black lashing through after the goat-cart!! Grabbing! Scorching! Barriers! Blasting! One of the four ebon claw-tipped tentacles has been discombobulated into mist that's been left behind, but there are still three threatening Our Intrepid Heroes!!

We now join the fight in progress ...

-

Felix reaches into his tactical backpack and takes a small steel sphere with glowing green runes on it. He tosses it into the air as he says, "3 to x by the cosine of vee, taken out the square of the double our G, then over the wall to a 8 meters, please." And the sphere darts up, over, and then with a 'pop' around the wall to appear about 7 meters beyond the two tentacles. It then explodes in metallic shards that cut and slice.

The dimensional 'fragments' of the 'grenade' dissolve harmlessly against the shield, the grenade having been placed out of the dangerous zone, but the dissociative 'shards' lance into the tentacles. If such things could be seen to have a personality, well, their writhing suggests they're not happy with this development.

With the driver's protection gone, one of the tentacles makes a grab for the girl at the goat's reins.

Grimm sees the clawed tentacle going for their driver. If it hits her, they could end up flung who knows where. She flings her hand toward the space between them, fingers twisting as she summons a dark wall of shadow between them.

The darkness lancing in at Helen meets the darkness twisting out from Grimm -- and the former seems to utterly disappear into the latter. Glints of light from the skin's glossiness seem to suggest that the tentacle is sliding forward into it ... and growing thicker as it does, as if more of it were coming into view. Far off ahead of you, there is a blare of horns sounding -- like heralds announcing an approach, or huntsmen calling the hounds.

Lizzy tries to grab the remaining tentacle on her side of the cart (#4).

Lizzy manages to get her hands on the tentacle, just barely managing to hang on as it twists and writhes in her grip.

Amelia holds at this instant, waiting to see what is foreshadowed by the sound of horns.

Writhing against the superheroine's grip, the tentacle in Lizzy's grip tries to break free!!

It's grabbed and squeezed, but the writhing proves too much for the heroine -- or maybe it's the fact that it's pulling back at the same time. Whichever the cause, the result is that Lizzy is forced to let go, and the tentacle writhes back out of the reach of the grabby-things for a moment.

"Grimm! What am I supposed to be doing here? Eldritch horror isn't really my genre," calls Talia as she maintains the roaring white-hot inferno on one tentacle. Shifting her weight, Talia half-pirouettes so that she can lift one palm and point off of the cart, trying to unleash a beam of concentrated heat on the tentacles overhead(ish?) to keep the heat off of the whole group.

Grimm glances over at Talia. "Umm...blast the dark tentacles that aren't my dark tentacles? I'm not summoning anything, but what you're doing seems to be working."

With its sibling -- pair -- mate -- whatever -- in the way, the other tentacle on the shielded side takes another strike at the wall, trying to get through to the tasty tasty souls it can sense on the other side.

"I CAN'T TELL THEM APART," screams Talia as the heat ray lances upward and outward from the cart. It impales - so to speak - one of the tentacles, setting its oily black surface to bubbling and sizzling before the tentacle lashes and writhes out of the way.

The other tentacle slams against one portion of the wall does nearly nothing except, maybe, startle the person behind the shimmering defense.

Radical focuses his will again...and reaches out toward another tentacle, unleashing his Chaos magic once more. It manifests as a beam of divine light toward his target.

The tentacle's writhing becomes more fierce, the same spastic sort of convulsions the first one had at the touch of the divine, but it isn't beaten -- yet.

Felix takes another metallic sphere with the green glowing runes out of his backpack. "I need to start making these in jumbo batches," he grouses as he tosses it into the air. "Seven meters by 8 meters more, 56 meters if square. But put in an angle and curve the line, Pi is number I find fine." The sphere leaps to one side, zigs, fags, then with a pop moves through a hole in space time to appear very close to where the last one appeared. And the jagged shards of broken dimension fill the area defined by its runes

The sphere seems to /want/ to move through a dimensional hole near the end of the directions commanded, but the blare of trumpets comes again, much louder, as the grenade's technomagic attempts to open the gap. Instead, it gets squeezed back together, then spits back with manic speed towards the cart, ricochets off, bounces off the tentacle that's been taking the punishment, and streaks over to the other side. Through -- dare we say it -- sheer luck, the grenade goes off more-or-less where he wishes, just not how he thought it'd get there.

Again, microtears assail both tentacles and shielding, the latter fragmentary, the former more difficult -- but the horns sound a third time, strident.

Her attempt to get the goats to go Faster, Must Go Faster having failed, Helen reaches out to snatch one of her wands from the holster at the side of the cart's driver seat, ready to defend herself should Grimm's blackness fail in its defense.

Far ahead, Amelia can see ... trumpets. Gleaming, glowing, the shine of silver, the utter incorruptibility of gold ... the ruthlessness of iron, the radiant immobility of uranium, or some such other heavy element. They are trumpets, and yet they are also swords: they are coming and they are not declaring peaceful intentions ...

Amelia says, "Well this is fun isn't it. Why limit yourself to tentacles when you can have trumpet swords as well. Incoming, 12 o'clock ahead, everyone."

Viv has to give more explicit directions to the not-so-bright cushions. She's still worrying about tentacles, never mind whatever's incoming. "No no, don't come back here! Get back out there, surround that tentacle - there, like that - and then come together and try to catch it between you!"

Amelia says, "Grimm, this is out of my comfort zone. Trumpet swords ahead. Friendly or non friendly?"

Viv sighs in frustration. Cushions, it seems, make more combatants.

As the lone tentacle on her side of the cart is currently out of reach, Lizzy holds herself ready to grab it should that change.

Grimm's focus is split. "-This- is out of your comfort zone? I'm not really a fan of swords either, but I thought you had some sort of training," she replies to Amelia. "They...don't seem friendly to me, but righteous types all seem that way to me."

Failure -- well, that just means try harder, right? Hammer!! Lash!! Scrape!! There are souls to be had!! The clawed end of the tentacle tries to penetrate the barrier this time.

Hah!! Cracks achieved -- the tentacle presses against the spot, trying to expand the damage.

Amelia chuckles, "Do you know how many decades ago that was in my personal timeline, Grimm. I switched to nature witchery a long time ago." While saying that she reinforces the cracked barrier.

The new barrier casting melds with the old into a solid good as new one. Then she looks around but holds ready again.

Talia huffs and puffs for a few moments, frowning as she looks around. One hand reaches toward her hip, momentarily brushing across her whip before she shifts her attention toward the front of the cart... And BEYOND! Curiously, Talia cants her head to one side as she tries to identify the trumpets/swords that are charging into the fray.

The horn/sword thing is rife in the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam); theoretically, these might be Powers/Authorities, beings charged specifically with keeping evil forces in line. There are parallels, however, in any number of religions, including Zoroastrianism and Hinduism (where they'd likely be servants of Shiva).

"I think those things are here to lay a divine smackdown on the tentacles," calls Talia as her stormy green eyes finally land on the trumpets/swords. She secures her grip on her whip, but doesn't take any further action, eyes wide as she stares into the infinite interdimensional void.

Viv says, "I hope so!" looking about but still concentrating on the tentacles.

Felix looks down at his grenades; it doesn't escape him that the horns came in lockstep with each of his grenades. Grimacing, he puts the third one back and rummages around, hoping to find something new ...

The tentacles started out, oh, perhaps half a foot thick or so. The one currently connected to the voidness of Grimm's barrier, however, has swollen (or been lost into the thing) in surges and roils, every half-second or so, until it is now a rippling six /feet/ across --

-- and then it seems to almost explode, the glossy/lumpy surface splitting and becoming the surface of a /dozen/ of the things. Erupting outwards, the sullen engorgement's 'source' splits as well, their bases in the walls almost instantly all /over/ the place.

"I really have no idea how old you even are now technically. When I first met you, you were actually a 16 year old kid who was in over her head being the Chosen one," Grimm replies to Amelia. Her head turns to the tentacle that's beginning to ...do something with her barrier. "I...don't like the look of that. It's like it's feeding off of it," she says as she pushes out with her hands. She forces the dark wall to move twelve meters away from the cart. She looks to Talia. "So...good guys? Cavalry?" she asks hopefully.

Viv says, "Yeah. Don't feed the tentacles!"

"Cavalry? Yes. Good guys? Probably," calls Talia, "Not sure what side they'll consider us on."

Felix is swearing under his breath, digging through his bag trying to figure out what he might use. "Radical, Grimm, did -- those golden beams, were those, like, holy fire or something?" He pulls out what looks like a discus. "This might protect us, but we'd all be underwater!!"

Lizzy braces herself, getting one foot underneath her so that she can maybe protect someone, knock a tentacle out of the way, but she doesn't have any /range/ to do something with ...

Radical nods to Felix, and speaks rapidly. And...in a very uncharacteristic manner. "Yeah, that was holy light. Light of the divine. The big Kahuna. The head honcho. The one above all."

The remaining original clawed tentacle, ripped up and singed and roasted, withdraws to be amongst its pack. There is writhing, an obscene sense of ... communication, even as the pair of trumpeting swords (or swordlike trumpets) of shining silvery gold rush forward and are rushed towards by the goats.

Even as the second scrabbling tentacle withdraws as well, as the mystic wall has renewed itself, Helen says several rapid words in Old Norse.

Grimm's hands are still extended palm out to try and push her wall and all those tentacles away as her head cranes over to Radical. The corner of her mouth quirks up in a grin as she recognizes the side effects of his magic. "Yeah, well...keep that up. They really hate that stuff."

While both her hands describe a frantic weaving, at a little distance from the cart a rippling of energy appears, as if ... well, the best way to describe it would be as a small rug being shaken of its dirt, cloth snapped down and up and down. It is not at full power, but will take a few moments to manifest such. "If they get through and grab the cart," Helen calls back, "I think we're screwed!!"

Viv keeps trying to direct the cushions into grabbing one of the tentacles - even though this seems like a losing battle by this point! "No look, it's no good unless you do it all at the same moment, or the tentacle can just move away!"


 * Finally* the cushions get their act together and close in on the tentacle!

Viv says, "Ok now! Press together as hard as you can!"

The cushions compact themselves tight against the tentacle, constricting it!

Lizzy waits, watching warily for bad things to come closer. And things -- the Trumpet-Swords -- /are/ coming closer, casting a light from that side that feels ... weirdly? It feels /cold/, especially to Grimm.

Amelia casts another barrier, this time on the other side of the cart to replace the one Grimm moved away.

Viv says "That's it! Keep it up!" encouragingly.

Fortunately, the cold doesn't bother Talia anyway. She keeps her hand on her whip, eyes wide as she watches and waits. Talia isn't sure quite what to do right now except watch and be prepared to intervene if an opportunity presents itself.

The tentacles swirl and whirl, rotating overhead, down, beneath, up, and overhead again, swirling ... swirling ... are they ... getting closer? As a whole, rotating around?

Grimm tries to get the tentacles away from them. She focuses on the closest one within striking range and tries to summon a tendril to snap at it. However, when she attempts this, Gabrielle winces and has to strain to make it manifest. "C'mon..."

It resists. Gabrielle's powers aren't coming easily to her suddenly. But a dark snaking tendril finally stretches out of her dark shadowy aura and winds back before snapping sharply like a whip at one of the clawed tentacles, sending it flying away. "That...was harder than usual..."

Trumpets. Strident, challenging -- nearing. They'll be here /soon/.

Radical takes a deep breath...and spreads his fingers a bit to try to get more than one tentacle in his sights this time. He unleashes more divine power toward them, hoping that it will eventually drive these things off...like if it touched a burning stove.

The holy light sears a couple of the tentacles, causing them to spasm and fall back away from the cart.

Half a dozen of the tentacles snap suddenly inwards, as if a rope looped loosely multiple times around a target and then yanked closed; they go through the magical concussion field as if it wasn't there, and impact HARD against the shields anchored on the cart -- and then start to tighten their grip.

Viv shrinks back hard against her seat as the tentacles snap in. . o O (Why did I agree to come?! I'm not a superhero or anything!)

The tentacles tighten their grip, and everyone can hear the cart rattling to a halt, the goats' hooves scraping against what /sounds/ like stony dirt, even though there's no such thing here.

"Do I drop it??" Felix calls out. "Do I drop it???" He sounds, err, a little panicked and feeling out of his depth.

Radical shakes his head and says quickly, "I don't think being underwater would be an improvement, right? Unless we're going for a swim, but that seems ill-advised right now, given that we've being attacked from all sides, literally. Maybe hold off for a bit longer, I'm not really sure, though...because I don't know what that does, exactly."

The goats Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjostr have been pulling the 'long cart' down the famous white tunnel, their cloven hooves and the cart's wheels crunching on invisible (or perhaps imaginary) gravel as they dash towards safety -- but the crunching has stopped, because about half of the massive inky oily black tentacles (which started as four but which have multiplied into many more than that) have constricted suddenly around the barrier-shielded cart. The goats' hooves still scrape, failing to pull forward, but the wheels are not turning - and that's only half of the tentacles!!

Inside, Felix has confirmed with Radical that the tentacles are /really/ adverse to sacred damage, and has pulled out his holy-water spewing disc -- but Radical has suggested that being underwater might be bad. Pillows trying to be helpful flailed a bit, but only very recently managed to figure out how to throw one of the tentacles back; sacred light has lanced outwards from both Radical and Grimm, though Grimm has had tough-going as of late.

Oh, and the horns. Silvery, gold, iron -- the swordlike horns, or the hornlike swords, are approaching at great speed down the infinite tunnel, though they are not yet here.

Felix considers Radical's suggestion then chuckles, "Well, if we end up in a pool of holy water, I /really/ messed up the enchantment, boss." And with that the teen hero drops the disk into the cart. "Water in the hole!" he shouts with a laugh.

Mist blasts out from the widget, drenching absolutely everyone; the tentacles lash somewhat, minute cracks appearing across the entirety of both shields, but both shields hold -- as do the tentacles, determined to get to the souls within the barriers.

One of the fastest tentacles ripples around and lashes again at the barrier preventing it from hooking Helen right off her seat, but while it smashes against the defensive wall, it manages to do nothing.

The other tentacles writhe in, swirling around as the first set did, and crunch against the walls; larger cracks web across their entirety as if an entire massive and massively powerful fist slowly squeezes a melamine cup into shattering. The walls have yet to hit their 'shatterpoint' yet ... yet.

Alas, Helen can do little more than she has, though she screams back, "They're holding the barrier, not us!! Get us free!!"

Viv directs the cushions in their continuing struggle against the tentacles!

A gap opens up in the outer shell of writhing tentacles as one is severed by the mighty pillows, the front end disintegrating and the back end flying spasmodically back into the distance, but the gap is quickly covered as the others spread out a bit.

Viv exclaims delighted, "That's it! I knew you could do it if you worked together!" as the cushions press together hard enough to sever a tentacle.

Talia looks over at the screaming Helen. She frowns to herself as she looks around the cart at the barriers and the tentacles encroaching. Cracks are spider-webbing across the shields, but the cart is held fast by the things coming out of the interdimensional space around them... Only because of the barriers themselves.

"Grimm! I may need a rescue, depending on how this goes."

Lunging across the back of the cart, Talia bends over Felix and grabs onto the edge of the right side barrier. She leans out into space and curls her other hand's fingers around a growing ball of rippling, corruscating air. Heat radiates outward from her body in increasingly intense waves as Talia tries to line up her shot with one hand and the Infinite whipping around her. Mentally screaming obscenities to herself, Talia unleashes another beam of concentrated heat, trying to burn through as many tentacles as she can line up with one arm.

The blast of intense elemental fire shrivels about half of the tentacles, which collapse away, but the remainder continue to clench the barriers and the cart they protect.

Grimm picks areas of barrier to try and blast away with dark energy. "We're going to be exposed when the barriers go down, so watch your backs," she says as she spreads her hands out toward the barriers.

A torrent of dark energy cuts a swath across the front anchor points, shattering them and freeing the barriers hold in those sections. Gabrielle is having to concentrate harder than usual to draw upon her power, and it shows on her face.

Amelia turns to face Grimm, "What in the world are you doing?"

Radical does his best to make the people in cart seem...unpalatable. He focuses his Chaos magic again...and lets loose with a beam of holy light upward at one of the tentacles trying to reach around the barrier.

"What do you mean? I'm trying to free the cart," Gabrielle says in return.

Flailing spastically, the tentacle 'shot' by Radical writhes away, disintegrating as it goes.

Since punching these tentacles doesn't seem helpful, Union decides to free the cart instead. She kicks at the point where the barrier is anchored.

Amelia says, "High risk tactic, Grimm. Looked like Felix's mist was doing a job on the tentacles. All we needed to do was wait safe for a few more seconds until no more tentacles."

Felix looks around as he futilely tries to shakes the excess holy water that is saturating him. "I really didn't plan to shower in this costume today," he mutters to himself as he waits for others to act. He continues to hold the holy water disk as it continues to spew its sacred mist all around on everyone and everything. Any unholy rashes people have are cured no doubt

Felix then removes a wooden rod from a holder on the side of his backpack and with a flick, smashes at the only remaining anchor point, near him.

With a blindingly bright flash of light, Felix shatters the last anchor point. He murmurs to himself, "Note, increase inertia."

With a momentary hiccup as one shield collapses towards the other as they release, the goat-cart shoots out from between the two as the goats gallop away. As the cloud of mist trails along, those in the cart who look back can see the tentacles crushing the barriers and squeezing inwards, tangling for several moments in snarls in frustration before eventually succumbing to the sacred water and coming apart.

Grimm shoots a look over at Amelia. "You were saying? Because it looks to me like my risky tactic worked."

"Oh, good," murmurs Felix as he flings the holy water misting disk away and behind the cart. He then shakes out a stream of water from the sleeve of the arm that was holding it.

Amelia releases the mana she has collected for the purpose of renewing the barriers if needed. Foregoing noticing audibly that the tentacles did indeed get erased by the mist. Until Grimm speaks. "This time. Yes."

Grimm folds her arms over her chest. "What is -your- deal? What's this attitude all about?" She glances aside to make sure Talia's still aboard safely.

The cart lurches into motion ahead of Talia. Her eyes widen and the petite powerhouse lurches her entire body forward to dive enough for both hands to grab the tailgate before it's out of her reach. Swinging quickly, Talia kicks up and into the cart again, taking a few moments to catch her breath and process some adrenaline. Lifting her fists in the air as she notices Grimm looking her way, Talia offers a quiet, "Woo. Meant to showboat like that."

Radical says quietly, "Amelia, please don't imply that you always choose the safest option. You and I both know you sometimes choose risky gambits."

Amelia says, "My deal is to keep everyone safe. You took a risk. It worked, this time. But you didn't consult or advise anyone beforehand. You made that decision for everyone, without bothering to ask."

Viv urgently called the cushions back to the cart as soon as it broke free: she wouldn't want them left behind!

Talia looks at Amelia, a puzzled expression on her face. "What are you talking about? Helen told us to cut the cart loose of the barriers."

"Without asking?" Grimm raises an eyebrow. "Our driver and guide in this whole thing told us they were holding the barrier and to get us free. And I did that, and everyone's safe and away from those tentacles."

Viv fluffs up the cushions nicely. "There. Now, do you want to be sat on, or have you had enough of being squeezed for now?"

The cushions, having fled the nasty oily-feeling tentacles, cuddle close around Viv. She goes from misted to wet.

Grimm says, "You make it sound like I -don't- want to keep people safe."

Amelia looks at Talia, "I was sustaining those barriers. If folks wanted then down, just say so. I could have dropped then at any time."

Radical shakes his head, "That's just it. They didn't need to be down. They needed to be UP. But away from the cart.

Radical says, "Like a snake shedding its skin."

Helen adds from her post the front seat. "And you have some strange wiring in your head, to think that in battle, you open up a -committee- meeting to discuss your options. Oh ... boy."

Rushing ahead means meeting those that rush to meet you, and at a blare of trumpets the goats slow and stop as the cart is surrounded by ... horns of silver and iron and gold, which seem to transform before your eyes into swords of brilliant steel and gold and silver, pointing at the inhabitants of the cart as they transform back ... and then slowly are pointing at Grimm. One trumpet blares at her.

While the others hear only the horn, Grimm hears: << You are an opening to the Destroyers. You will not open. You will be stopped. >>'

Viv doesn't object to the wet under the circumstances. "Thank you! You were all very brave."

The pillows were!! It took them a while to understand what Viv meant, though. Squeezing hard is difficult when you're soft!!

Radical shrugs, "Amelia, it's okay to admit that you didn't hear the request to cut the barriers free. I didn't hear it, either."

Viv says, "So, does anyone know what's up with these trumpets?"

"Why didn't you just take them down when Helen said they were the reason we weren't able to move and get away?" Grimm counters to Amelia, managing to keep her indignation mostly in check. Until the horn is blared and she's specifically pointed at. "Oh shick. Seriously? I'm not planning on opening anything!" she says in exasperation to the trumpeteers.

The horn blatts at Grimm again, as if replying to what she just said; she is the only one who hears: << You will not open. You will accept being prevented from trying. >>'

Talia raises an eyebrow at Amelia. She doesn't reply, however, as there are trumpets blaring and pointing at Grimm. Climbing back to her feet, Talia looks around and rests one hand on her whip's handle.

Grimm frowns at the horn honkings. "And what does accepting being prevented entail?"

Viv says, "You know, not to complain, but I think this tour needs a guide. I have no idea what's going on!"

The horn honks, and a smaller silvery sword approaches Grimm, who hears: << You will accept a rider. This is the rider. The rider will prevent you from opening. >> Inside her, she can feel her magic tighten up as the silvery sword nears, as if the one was compressing the other, locking it down.

Radical furrows his brow, "Umm...it's admittedly kind of hard to interpret horn blasts. It's not morse code, right?"

"These are angels, right?" inquires Talia, "Do they speak something other than freeform jazz?"

Helen shakes her head from her position; she has to look over her shoulder at the 'conversation' happening. "I ... uh ... I don't know. Mother Clewncliff mentioned /nothing/ like this."

Union says, "Ms. Grimm, what are they saying?"

Helen hesitates, then says, "I don't ... I don't /think/ they're angels. Though I suppose they kind of look like they could be. Maybe they're what some angels are based off of?"

"Wait...you guys don't understand it? It's...unngg..." Gabrielle grimaces as the sword nears her and she tries to back away, though there's not much room to go. "No. I'm not accepting that...stop messing with my powers," she says through grit teeth as she experiences something that feels like uncomfortable pressure. "Get bent!" Grimm explains while trying to push back. "They want to prevent me from opening a way for the Destroyers and are trying to make me accept a 'rider'. But it's trying to lock me out from my magic."

Viv says, "Not opening a way for the Destroyers sounds good. Whatever the Destroyers are."

Both the iron horn and the silver sword sound, making a two-note chord that is simultaneously lyrical and clashing. Jazz is /not/ a bad interpretation for it. To Grimm, it sounds considerably different. From the Iron: << YOU WILL. >> From the silver: << None will have powers in this place. Your mistress may open you unwilling from her side, though, and destroy all. Is your pride worth all? >>

Union says, "What happens if your magic is shut down?"

Grimm explains to Union, "Then I'd be powerless." She glares at the swords as she hears another note. There's some pride to swallow after their statement. "I...accept," she says reluctantly after several long seconds.

Radical looks to Grimm, "You'll be okay."

Grimm looks to Radical worriedly. She takes a breath and nods, trusting him, then looks back to the swords.

The silver sword drifts down to Grimm, and as it is about to touch her, it seems to almost dissolve, curling around Grimm's neck and reforming as an absolutely /killer/ silvery goth choker.

The iron horn gives a blatt that seems satisfied, and with a bit of a jerk the goats start the cart forward again ...

"Well at least they have some fashion sense," opines Talia as an aside to Grimm. She purses her lips, however, and keeps her hand on the handle of her whip while the cart gets back under way.

Viv says, "Yes, I think everything's ok now," to the cushions.

The various horns and swords separate from each other, but seem to escort the cart and its passengers with willing enthusiasm, trumpeting and caroling as if announcing the arrival of great heroes to the court of a king.

As the choker forms around her neck, Gabrielle's protective shadow field fades away and all her powers are cut off from the source. Her hair starts to change from root to tip, shifting into her natural strawberry blonde color as her powers bleed away from her. Feeling very uncomfortable, she moves to the back of the cart and sits down, curling up a bit for the rest of the ride and staying quiet.

Amelia goes to sit beside Grimm. "I won't ask how you feel because it's obvious. I can imagine what it must feel like. I had it happen myself. But we'll look out for you."

Grimm says in a quiet, reserved voice, "Yeah. Feeling pretty vulnerable stuck without powers in a place like this. And...thanks."

Viv says to Grimm, "You're not the only one feeling vulnerable! I mean, I have powers, I suppose, but it's not like I have /powers/!"

Grimm smiles softly at that. "I dunno. Seems like those pillows were kicking some serious butt. Or...I dunno what it's called. Do pillows kick?"

Union moves to sit next to Grimm also, and grips her hand, "We'll watch out for each other, ok?"

Viv laughs. "They just squeezed really hard! Still, that's them, not me. If things get rough I can't do much but hide behind the pillows."

Grimm blinks as Union grabs her hand and manages to muster up a halfhearted smirk. "Hey, we're here for you. Don't worry about me."

Amelia says, "Grimm, are you proficient with staves?" She offers Grimm a short rod. "Shake to expand this to a staff. Press the ends in to collapse it again. Anything gives you trouble, hit it over the head."

Grimm stares at the rod un=certainly. "I'm not proficient with any weapons," she admits. Suddenly Radical's martial arts training doesn't seem so weird. "But it's like a stick, and I can at least swing away at stuff," she supposes --

A little bit later -- time that is no time -- you will ... arrive.