Log:We Happy Few

The Madness of David Flyte 2020/02/03 Porter Grimm Frankie Cade Radical 15

Gabrielle's seated on the curb outside Justice Investigations, coffee in hand as she stares at her feet. She still isn't sure what to say to Frankie, but she knows she needs help.

Cade Crichton steps out from around the alleyway near Justice Investigations after being assigned to collect local runoff to see if there is any way to track the bugs chemically. He gets the feeling Executive Assistant Director Chet Mellon had his hands in the sudden reassignment just as he really started enjoying the training required for the non-metahuman field staff of StarGuard.

He pauses and opens up the StarGuard sample crate and slips in a vial of dirty looking water. He is sealing the crate back up and looking around when he spots a familiar Lancer near by. He walks over casually to say hello as he slips the crate's strap over his shoulder.

Grimm lifts her head from her thoughts, her senses having been muted. She looks over her shoulder. "Losing a lot more than that," she comments. She's wearing a t-shirt with dark red text that says "Love Sucks" in a handpainted way, black jeans, and a leather jacket, topped with a charcoal gray infinity scarf. "So. How've you been, Frankie?" she asks, but sounds like she's not really focused on the present. She looks...well...grim.

Up, in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a FLASHTHWUMP! "Hey! Gabri-ahhhh!" BONK CRASH BOUNCE THUMP SQUEEEeee... And thus the wild Porter appears, making his graceful descent to earth via the alley adjacent to Justice Investigations. And the wall. Fire escape. Awning. Clothesline. And, finally, with all the grace of a greased pinball, he comes to rest upon discarded trashbag filled with gently used rubber chickens.

"Yeah. I figured you see it. Thing is. I can't. People tell me I'm broken, and it's like...'joke's on you, I already knew that'," Gabrielle says bitterly. "But now they mean it in a literal sense." Gabrielle hears her name and looks around, wincing at impacts she can't see. "Porter?!" She calls out in worry, starting to get up.

"Mister Porter?" He asks with clear concern before adding, "That looked painful- are you alright?"

Porter is down, but not out. And then he's not even down as he hops up to his feet and jogs out of the alley. A quick look around and "Oh! There you are!" Now he's jogging for Grimm. After crossing the half-dozen meters, he's panting and red-faced. "I'm Ok.." he sneaks in an assurance and then data dumps the rest between breaths. "I think figured it out! ... How to fill your cra-... Stuff you fu-... Fix it! Here!" So he's obviously excited, and happy to see her.

And then he ...incants?

Which is apparently worse than chewing gum while walking, as he trips over something the last two steps.

"Azerath Metri-OW!" Topple. "Ack!" Faceplant. "Ugh."

Well, that wasn't the exact phrase he had in mind, but that's Ok, right? Grimm sighs and rubs her face. "Sorry. I'm...trying to work on the attitude and keep calm." The cracks pulsed a little from the bitterness. She looks up at Porter, looking concerned at the red face. Her mouth hangs open a bit in mute response on how to respond to all those false starts. And her eyes widen as his incantation gets interrupted.

He falls silent but looks like he wants to ask if everything is OK.

Good news: The incantation wasn't disrupted into nothingness! Bad news: The incantation wasn't disrupted into nothingness.

The exact cause of what follows may never be concretely proven, but three theories prevail:

Rather than make the weakened reality visualized as cracks smaller, as intended, the altered incantation instead made the contents momentarily smaller. This turned a slow leak into a brief geyser

The latered verbiage, in ancient, unspoken tongues, translates into a slur against a certain elder god's lineage and omnipotence

One or more elder gods witnessed The Porter, looked at one another, and simply decided NOPE!

Whatever the reason, something does happen. A sudden torrent of darkness erupts from Grimm in all directions, momentarily obscuring all (even those Detect Everything and the Kitchen Sink!). When it fades... brightens, all is well... NOT well.

The surroundings are the same, though more dim. The sky has traded a blue hue for blood red. How cozy!

Also, Grimm's popularity has increased! That or Frankie has new customers... or instand job security. The personnel count goes from four to six, though the three arrivals look to be possibly related. The red eyes, inky black skin and wide-yet-not-charming smiles must run in the family. In addition to that, all three look familiar. Frankie has a sister she never knew she had! Cade has a twin who probably doesn't recycle! Grimm has... well, nope. Grimm still has her own Shady.

There is, however, only one Porter. He isn't red-faced, but rather red-eyed.

There is, however, only one Porter. He isn't red-faced, but rather red-eyed.

Radical was on his way toward Old Town, toward the best location from which to get to the Great Library, when he sees the skies change and a surge of magic. . o O (What is it now? Seriously.) He teleports several times in that direction to try to get a better look.

Grimm grunts and grits her teeth, curling up into a ball on the curb as she tries with all her will to contain the sudden surge of dark power...and failing. "Nnggghaaah!" When the darkness fades and Gabrielle thinks she has control again, her eyes, clenched shut from effort, slowly open and look around in shock. "Porter, what did you do to me!?" Her head turns to him and notices the red eyes. "Porter...?" she repeats his name, worried now.

"I'd rather not..." Crichton replies, looking wide-eyed at Grimm uncertain if bubbling her in the telekinetic barrier was a good idea consdiering eveyrhting that's happening.

Radical teleports closer, onto a nearby building, getting a feel for what the heck is going on. He scans the area with his specialized senses...seeing what magic there is as well as what kind of dimensional effects might be going on.

The arrival of the free Radical is slightly novel, even for said Radical. The moment he enters the zone of murkiness, he's promply 'pulled' to its epicenter. This being Grimm and company; both welcomed and not.

And now there are seven... perhaps eight, if one counts the rumbling, disembodied voice that somehow both shouts and whispers, and one isn't sure whether the sound comes from near the ear of within one's head. The sounds are unintelligble for the most part, though each can swear bits and pieces of phrases or single words are strangely clear. Which is unfortunate, as none of them are pleasant.

On the other hand, the shadowy trio of not-Porter, not-really-Cade, and certainly-can't-be Ghostfist remain pleasant. They're all smiling. Widely. As they start to walk towards the group.

Grimm finds herself trapped in a telekinetic bubble, not that it will stop her. She looks worried at the doubles and holds her head. "No, no, no..." she starts to panic, worried the cracks within her got splintered further by Porter's spell. She takes a breath and tries to focus.

Radical nods to Frankie, and says to Grimm, "Deep breaths. Control your reactions, Grimm. I'm here." He looks around, still assessing what the situation is.

Cade keeps the bubble up until told otherwise. Smiling or not, there's something clearly wrong here. The way their not-quite selves are smiling at them certainly doesn't inspire him to think those smiles represent any form of goodwill or kindness.

"How about we jsut start with- what are those?!" He keeps one hand on the barrier, reinforcing his telekinetic field by proxy & the other points at their other selves still approaching.

"But...but I'm supposed to be controlling my feelings. My powers," Gabrielle starts to explain to Frankie, sounding like she feels she's failing. Her head turns when she hears Radical's voice and she follows his instructions, taking a deep breath. "I'm so glad to see you," she says, feeling some relief. "I didn't do this on purpose. I wasn't even upset. Porter was casting a spell and it did something to me. I couldn't control it."

Radical looks around. "I don't see any further active magic. Just some dimensional crossover. Those things."

Porterrible leads the Trigonic trio, stopping just outside the little brain bubble. His head tilts to one side. All the way to put ear to shoulder. Perhaps past. Then it rotates back 180 to the other side. All while studying the bubble and/or Cade. He's still smiling (almost literally) ear to ear, too. Then he lifts a hand and snaps his fingers. Perhaps he's forgotten the proper means to make the noise with a finger sliding down to hit palm. His index finger just ... folds over on itself. Accompanied by a loud snap. Close enough?

Maybe Cade is nervous? Perhaps barriers just resonate with certain sounds? In any case, the 'crack' is immediately followed by a disruption in Cade's telekinetic bubble. It ripples, sharply, throwing a wave of energy outward from Cade (yes, who is INSIDE the bubble).

Grimm is blasted back and smashes into the barrier. That looks like it hurt, but she remains on her feet.

Radical is also blown sideways, strikes the barrier, and he winces as he manages to roll to his feet afterward.

Cade's hands clench and close slowly as the resonance peaks through his telekinetic field. He grits his teeth and tries to push back against it- but that only makes things worse. By the time he realizes it he's flying into his own telekinetic field.

He catches himself from hitting the ground with his flight ability but looks like he's definitely feeling that attack as one of his eyes is suddenly bloodshot and a trickle of blood runs down his nose.

"I don't know what that was..." He says, "...but I'm not going to make it easy for you to do that again."

He dismisses his telekinetic field and stands defensively, preparing to defend himself or the others from these dimensional demons.

Grimm throws out her hand. A dark portal opens up between Shade and Cade, swallowing the rush of force.

Cade does something stupid- or at least thoughtlessly, grateful for her timely portal he returns the favor by throwing himself bodily into her defense.

He groans from his position.

Crack!

It's not clear whether that's 'Porter's' jaw making the noise, or its from his head snapping sideways at Ghostfist's blow. Crunching follows, as his head rotates back to her. If the jaw is cracked, it didn't effect his smile in the slightest!

"Still standing." Cade says to Grimm. "Ok maybe not standing..." He says from all fours as he tries to get back to his feet.

That might be funny. What may be utterly hilarious is the Not-Frankie stabbing herself in the back. Her other self. Also, its more like a poke. Poke. Poke. Not that any of them are laughing. Just smiling. Alot.

Radical side steps, folding space to clear a little distance, and then aims at the evil Porter. He raises his arms and fires a singularity toward his target. The shockwave causes his coat to billow as the energy heads toward it's target.

"Hey. Hey. Single file line," complains Ghostfist as she gets aggressively poked in the kidneys with a glistening black blade-hand. It doesn't penetrate her Helligator Skin Coat, but it does frustrate Ghostfist like the dickens. "I'll get around to beating your face in after I finish with Guy Smiley here."

Cade floats back up to his feet and squares up with the most threatening of the Alt-World Terror-Trio, or at elast the one he perceives as the most terror inducing- Shade.

Clearly he needs to keep his distance but providing defensive cover for his allies isn't going to work here. So he changes gears- holding up his hand and compressing all the telekinetic force he can muster into the palm of his right hand. It kind of looks like an ethereal star, imploding until suddenly the point of compressed energy erupts towards his doppelganger.

Shade, the dark doppleganger knows this trick, too. It reciprocates, palm pointed towards Cade. Not quite identically, as the heel of its hand is upward. Yet... the back of its arm is also facing upwards. That might explain the grinding.

Telekinesis: 0, Shadows (Grimm's): 1. The latter interposes, dissipating itself as well as the kinetic force.

Porterrible just caught a Ghostfist fist in the jaw. Now his (its?) hand and arm lift in kind, cocking back. The grown finger-claw-extensions snap off as he closes them into a fist to strike back at her.

Ghostfist jukes around Grimm's latest shadowy attempt at intervening. Unfortunately, this puts her face in slugging range of Porterrible's fist. You know, without horrifying shadow-growth action. She staggers backward, seeing stars from the force of the hit.

Radical moves a bit further back, away from the evil Porter...and tries again with another singularity, just channelling raw power with the blast rather than trying to be more focused.

A splot of black skin(?) is singed, burnt, and broken(?) on the Porterror, revealing more blackened flesh beneath. That looks to be ...wriggling. Ghost also decides that a bit of room is wise, stepping back from the start-studded counterpart and looking up to the airborne and free Radical. She/it (a term Ghostfist might approve of) lifts the hand-blade arm and there is cracking and ripping. Radius and ulna tear out of forearm to pivot at the wrist: one up, one down, dangling sinew between them. Sinew that stretches taught at their respective osseus anchors elongate. Now all it needs is... the other hand finds an unneeded floating rib and knocks it to loose at Radical.

Cade missing is never the plan, but Cade prefers to keep collateral damage to an absolutely minimum. That crushed sedan across the way tells him he's not doing a great job at that so far.

He pushes against the Earth and moves laterally, to get a position a bit higher than his target & so between his allies they will control the crossfire.

The hwole while he presses and compresses his telekinetic force into a single point. Once he's in position he comes to a sudden halt and lets the raging torrent erupt towards his target.

And one Ghost is thrust back and to the ground by the force, sent sprawling.

Grimm can't seem to stop Porterror's attacks. "Porter, I'm sorry this happened to you. Please stop," she begs him, sounding heartbroken. She doesn't attack to the naked eye, but she tries to put him down with a wave of nightmarish visions.

Porterror's eyes spark more crimon with urge of nightmares and Grimm certainly gets his attention. His head turns from the recovering Frankie, rotating perhaps one-hundred fifty degrees to Grimm. With appropriate crackling. His body then rotates underneath to face her, and he approaches her. His eyes then move to... her hair? Long, dark, shadowy, hungry locks that they are. Others have been consumed by them. Why not Grimm, as it lashes out for her wrists.

Cade isn't the only one with bubble baubles. Shade looks to the hairdresser and his client... and a dome of shadowy force forms about them, growing from the dark ground beneath. Unlike Cades, it isn't bright and shiny, but utterly black and opaque. Privacy for personal hairstyling.

Gabrielle shudders at seeing Porter's neck twist like that, fearing her powers or this possession has killed him and continues to use his corpse as a puppet. She starts to back away when her hair lengthens and billows. Two long locks lash around her wrists and wind about them as her hair has a life of its own, causing Grimm to shout in surprise.

Frankie takes a few seconds to close her eyes ahd shake her head. The sounds of the fight continue to filter into her recovering consciousness, the huntress slowly turning her head as her eyes open again. On the one hand, Porterror seems like the biggest threat. On the other hand, there's a stunned opponent in play. With a growl, Ghostfist lunges toward her doppleganger to begin a striking combination on her shadowy duplicate to, hopefully, put her down for the count.

The prone and sprawled not-really-Ghostfist, or rather the creamy shadowy exterior, is dissipated with Ghostfists' strike. This reveals the crunchy, colorful, broken shell inside. What doesn't instantly crumble to dust, wriggles and/or skitters away.

Radical sees a barrier spring up...with Grimm inside. But he wants to keep up his attacks on Porter. He sidesteps, folding space as he enters the dome. His target seems to be leaning toward 'all offense', so might be a better person to aim for than some of the others. He lets loose with another shot, remaining focused as the energy travels toward its destination.

It's a cozy fit, as the opaque bubble isn't any larger than the one that held three, before. Perhaps even a meter smaller. That one can't see outside does make it seem much more claustrophobic.

The flash of the blast adds a bit of momentary light, as well as burning away more of Porter's blackened skin and outer flesh. Yes, his insides are definitely wriggling and squirming now that they're exposed.

Cade keeps pouring it on. Once Ghostfist is back in the fight he changes his target to his own doppelganger. If he's anything like him, then he knows the fastest way to bring that bubble down is to put its creator down. He looks enough like him for him to make an educated guess on the matter.

He changes targets smoothly & charges up between shots. Agent Crichton flips up and around to position his shot to hopefully send Shade bouncing into something hard. With two of his own in the bubble he can't manage for no more collateral damage- not at the cost of allies (or bystanders).

At the pinnacle of his movement he is upside down, in the middle of a twisting somersault. Its then that he gets his shot. He takes it.

A wave of telekinetic force leaps from his outstretched hand at Shade.

Shade continues to bubble, bubble, toil, and trouble.

Porterrible is aware of Radical's arrival, yet remains focused upon Grimm. Poor Grimm. Weary. Bad hair day. Friends trying to eviscerate her. And she never even got to finish her coffee. But Radical is here to save the day along with Porter. In the dark, with flashes of bright, confines of the shadow dome. Three have entered. How many leave? Very confusing. And she's not the only one who can throw odd mental nightmares.

"I'm sorry for this, Porter, but you're dangerous like this. We'll...we'll find a way to fix this," Gabrielle promises. She has no hope to pull free of her bindings with her own strength, but she doesn't need to right now. She focuses on Porter's mind to try and put him down as painlessly as she can.

Grimm tries to put Porter down without hurting him, giving everything she can to stop him. Blood starts to trickle down from her nose as she focuses on ...what she thought was Porter.

Radical has a reasonably strong mind...but not one that's strong enough to withstand that kind of assault. He reels from Grimm's mental blast and nearly collapses.

Ghostfist watches her duplicate scatter to the winds. That's... Going to be a whole thing later. She stands up right again and turns her attention toward the Cade/Shade rumble, grumbling to herself as she straightens herself out. With a few quick steps, Frankie moves a few feet closer to Shade before making a whipping motion with her right hand. Chainlinks of faintly luminous, pale blue energy whip out from her hand and toward Shade's throat as she tries to choke the duplicate out with raw spiritual force.

Ghostfist now has Shade (rather than Cade), by the throat. He's still smiling, but thate may be irrelevant. She can feel bones and sinew grinding and wriggling, respectively, under her grip. If nothing else, had Cade recently annoyed her, she has an easy outlet at the moment. Admittedly, Shade is flailing... in an odd, crunchy, joints-don't-normally-bend-like-that manner.

Cade changes tactics once Ghostfist is on Shade.

Knocking the vile reimagining of himself away would hardly do anything for their current situation. He doesn't trust his ranged accuracy enough to risk everything on the off chance he might have a perfect shot.

He settles for locking Shade & his inhuman flailing down for Ghostfist to finish him off.

He reaches out with his hand and wills a signpost towards him. Still thinking of minimizing the chaos & collateral damage he uses a signpost that was knocked over by the car he struck with his last stray shot as opposed to plucking one from the sidewalk.

Then he attempts to wrap Shade up with it.

Since Ghostfist was kind enough to hold Cade's alter-ego still, by the throat, Cade is able to pull, bend, warp, and wrap various pieces of various things about the Shade.

Grimm smiles with some hope at seeing Radical, but she's actually looking at Porterror. "Radical, it's not his fault. I think he's almost down, so go easy on him."

Grimm looks back to 'Porterror', or Radical in actuality. She looks so apologetic and sad. "We'll find a way to get you back to normal, Porter. Please stop fighting," she pleads again while looking down at Radical.

Grimm takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm like Radical told her.

Radical is hit again before he's able to fully recover..and as he starting to say, "Grimm...you have us mixed..." ...he's struck again, and he collapses.

Cade looks to Ghostfist and says, "The sooner we can put this /thing/ to sleep the better- I'm betting he's still feeding that bubble energy." Cade says to Ghostfist as the last of the material locks into place around Shade.

"The hell do you think I'm trying to do?" growls Ghostfist at Cade. She continues to maintain her grip on the Spirit Chain extending between her hand and Shade's neck while she carefully shifts her weight to improve her stance.

"Ok! No pressure!" Cade replies quickly, letting the Private Eye do her mystical thing without further interruption.

There's nothing to worry about! Look! The Porter That Should Not Be has collapsed. "Radical" is here and approaching Grimm. He's even smiling! Alot. That's... a great deal of smiling. Were his lenses red before? Were they glowing? Something starts to seem a bit off. Like... why is he clawing at Grimm's stomach? Why was Porter, for that matter?

Even more worrisome, why does her abdomen seem to be expanding out to meet the clawing half-way?

Is that clawing from both sides?

Wait, is "Radical" pulling things out of her stom... Well, not things. Just one. One black, red-eye covered tendril that just keeps getting more broad and never seems to end.

The bad news? Gabrielle Grimm feels all of this.

The good news? It probably won't take her long to pass out?

Porter... just HAD to call it an egg, didn't he?

And when she does, all goes black. For everyone.

And then there was light. Blue sky. Chill in the air. The same steps and alley, though positions may have changed. Such as Porter, who's face down on the sidewalk.

Gabrielle is at first relieved as she looks to Radical. The fact that his senses are red is ...weird. And a smile through the mask? Gabrielle suddenly realizes what Porterror said before he collapsed. "Oh no...no...!" she realizes too late. Then an awful wrenching feeling in her gut causes her to double over and look down as something extends out of her. It's hard to stay calm when you see something breaking through reality AND you.

The sounds Grimm makes are one of agony as she collapses to her knees. Sweat breaks out across her brow as she tries to focus her powers to contain it, but she can't even grab at the emerging tentacle with her wrist still bound. "N-no...I can't..." she starts to say, thinking she's about to unleash N'zrathol into this reality. She tries to focus on teleporting herself to some other dimension...right before she falls over, passing out from the pain.

Radical groans and slowly wakes up. He slowly...ever so slowly...gets to his feet. . o O (So...right. When I was arguing with Gabrielle...and didn't have my gear with me at the time? Might have been dumb.)

The sounds of Grimm screaming fills Ghostfist's ears. She turns, snarling and lips peeled back with fury, trying to see into the inky black sphere that contains Porterrible and Grimm (and Radical). Frankie starts to say something, but cuts off as the darkness ripples out to fill the space. When darkness fades to light, Frankie's Spirit Chain slams into the ground with a sizzle of energy before it fades out of existence entirely. Lunging away, Ghostfist sprints toward Grimm to check her former apprentice for signs of life.

Agent Crichton throws his hands up and instinctively bubbles himself with a tight telekinetic field in case the darkness is hiding another attack. He dismisses the field as the torrent of darkness make way for a bright blue sky & the chill winter air of Colonial Bay proper.

Grimm's scream brings his attention into stark focus before he glances at Ghostfist before bouncing his gaze from each of the others to determine how he can best assist.

Cade sees Radical groaning so he counts that as a good sign. He kicks off the ground and flies to the unmoving Porter to make sure he's still alive.

Radical starts to stand...but instead drops to one knee. He says quietly, "So...was that the real Porter? Or something else?"

"I don't know." Crichton replies to Radical. "But /this/ Porter is still alive. So that's something. You alright over there?" He asks the former Cartesian as he glances to Ghostfist to make sure everything is alright over there.

"Didn't get a good look," replies Ghostfist. She shrugs at Radical while she carefully inspects Grimm's aura for signs of life. Or... Worse things.

Radical nods slowly, "I'll be fine. Just a headache, I think." He blinks...and then reactivates his magic and dimensional sight to look at Grimm, and assess her status.

Grimm is collapsed on her side, her hair no longer wrapped around her wrists. There's no physical damage to her at all. No sign of the tentacle she could feel ripping through her. She breathes slowly, and after a few moments, her whole body twitches and she sharply gasps, eyes opening as she wakes from the nightmare.

Ghostfist places a hand on Grimm's sternum when Grimm awakens. She offers a small smile and a faint twitch of her head.

"Relax. No one's hurt. Let me finish figuring out what's going on."

The cracks in Gabrielle's aura are wider now, but there are no new lines through her aura. Radical can peer through the dimensions to see the tendrils of N'zrathol still entwined around Gabrielle, testing at those small fissures that are still too small to let it gain purchase in this reality.

Cade stands guard over Porter defensively, unsure of which Porter they're dealing with after that sudden spike in shadow violence.

Ghostfist's confidence in figuring out what's going on give shim abit more confidence because he's well outside his comfort zone.

"Ow..." Speaking of the live Porter, he seems to come back to reality, himself. He sits up abruptly, and winces. "Sorry! I didn't mean to tri-" Then he realizes that he's talking to empty stairs. He looks around. "Uh... did I miss something?" He rubs the back of his head. Which makes him wince more. "And I think I pulled something in my neck..."

Grimm pants as Ghostfist keeps her in place. "I'm...I'm still here," she utters in confusion. She tries to lift her head to look at where the tentacle was in her...mind? "I thought it broke through...that I...I failed..."

Radical nods to himself...so things are still stable. Good. Anger starts to take hold at that point, and he turns his attention toward Porter. He follows his own advice...and takes long, deep breaths as he controls his reactions.

"You're okay, Gabrielle. Things got weird. You're okay now though," intones Ghostfist. She continues to study Grimm, but holds her hand against Grimm's sternum to hold her fast against escaping or making herself feel worse.

Cade jumps back as Porter suddenly sits up. He greets Porter's return to consciousness with two palms holding a small sphere of telekinetic energy pointed at him.

"I'm not sure- things got pretty weird back there." He nods as Ghostfist says the same thing to Grimm.

"We're trying to figure it out- so lets move slowly alright?" He asks Porter, eyeing him for signs of Porternannt or Porterrible.

Cade jumps back as Porter suddenly sits up. He greets Porter's return to consciousness with two palms holding a small sphere of telekinetic energy pointed at him.

"I'm not sure- things got pretty weird back there." He nods as Ghostfist says the same thing to Grimm.

"We're trying to figure it out- so lets move slowly alright?" He asks Porter, eyeing him for signs of Porternannt or Porterrible-ness in the man.

Gabrielle's eyes are welling up, and she tries to hold it together. "I'm not okay, Frankie," she whimpers quietly. "I'm so far from okay..."

Radical hears Grimm...and forces himself to his feet. He steps over and places a hand on her shoulder and staying out of Ghostfist's way. "Gabrielle. It'll be okay. It will."

Grimm takes a few shaking breathes, and soon stops trembling once Radical puts a hand on her shoulder and reassures her. She nods weakly. "I'm so sorry, Radical. I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you were whatever Porter turned into," she sniffles. She's not even sure if this isn't just a dream now, though.

"It's okay, Grimm," replies Frankie, "You've got a lot of good people around you."

Pausing, Ghostfist looks over her shoulder at the arriving Radical.

"Plus this guy," she intones, bobbing her head at Radical before she looks back at Grimm. Her hand comes free of Grimm's sternum and Frankie sighs heavily. Frankie tips her head to one side, regarding both of them for a few moments before shrugging her shoulders. "C'mon. Let's get you some coffee and cleaned up."

Porter blinks at Cade and his glowing ball of .. stuff. "Wha?" Then he blinks more as he hears Grimm and clambers quickly yet awkwardly to his feet.

"Gabrielle? What's wrong?" And he's already walking her way when he remembers. "Oh! Hold on! I didn't get to show you what I figured out!"

Radical squeezes Grimm's shoulder. "I know. And it's okay." He gives her a wink, "But apparently, according to your friend, I'm not one of the good people." He chuckles quietly and stands back up.

"I don't know you from Adam, buddy," replies Frankie, "Why should I lump you in with her boyfriend or Bad Luck Chuck there?"

"No- nope. No way." Cade says as he slides between Porter and Grimm. "Not until I know what the heck just happened here. The sky. The ewey, gooey red-eyed versions of us... and you at the center of it all. Because all of a sudden everyhting is jsut fine? What's to stop something like that from happening again? How about you /tell/ Grimm what you found instead?" He suggests, keeping the energy leveled at Porter for now as he gives him a once over. He seems to suspect its the Porter he's familair with from reports but considering those reports, airing on the side of caution is pretty mandatory.

Gabrielle's breathing calms. She smiles at Radical, then Ghostfist, feeling reassured and better, though she's still pretty shook up. "That's Radical. He's a good man," she explains to Frankie. "He's been helping me," she explains as she slowly sits up, but doesn't yet stand. Her head whips to Porter as he talks about showing her. "No!" she says immediately in fear. Then collects herself. "Sorry, Porter...don't. You already did, and it was bad..."

Radical turns to face Frankie directly. "I go by 'Radical', as Grimm mentioned. I'm the former Cartesian of Order. A scientist. A mage. And a friend of Gabrielle's." His voice is nice and even...no trace of annoyance. "Whether or not you know who I am...does not change any of that."

Grimm blinks at Frankie's comment and looks around eagerly. "Mal's here?" Seeing that he's not, her shoulders and expression both slump.

Porter blinks at Grimm's response and stutters to a halt. He appears rather oblivious. Even more than usual. "Oh." Unsure of what else to say, and not knowing what to speak of, even, he goes with the Old Standby. A sigh. "Sorry."

"Good to meet you, Radical," replies Ghostfist. She shrugs a little bit, apparently unapologetic for her exclusion. After a few moments, Frankie climbs to her feet and holds a hand out to Grimm to help her up.

Grimm takes Frankie's hand and rises to her feet slowly, still expecting there to be pain and surprised when there's not. She nods and smiles to Radical at his introduction. "A good friend," she confirms/adds. She releases Frankie's hand and walks over to Porter slowly to confirm he's okay. When close enough, she tries to wrap him up in a big, abrupt hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

Radical nods to Ghostfist, and seems happy enough to leave it at that. His head is still in pain, after all. It'll pass, in time. He says to Grimm, "I need to get going. I'll see you again soon." And with that, he steps forward, disappearing from view as he folds space, teleporting away.

Porter is Ok. Save for the pain in the neck. Having one. Or being one? He's only mildly startled by the hug. Possibly because he apparently screwed up. That doesn't mean he doesn't welcome and return it, though. Because he does. "I'm Ok. Glad you are. And if you're not, we'll fix that." He may or may not have heard Frankie. If not ... great minds think alike?

A Clash of Mentors

Ghostfist takes a few minutes to make sure that mind-warping terrors from beyond the membranes of this multiversal context are not about to reappear. She hooks an arm around Grimm's shoulders and starts guiding her former apprentice back toward Justice Investigations.

"I think we've both earned a drink. Then you can start telling me what's going on."

What does reappear is Radical, however. He has managed to get a couple of over the counter pain killers into his system in the time he's been gone. He looks around to see who is still about.

Grimm is still reasonable shellshocked from the visions she experienced, and the guilt of having hurt the wrong person. She numbly trudges along. She hears a familiar warping sound and looks about, spotting Radical. "Are you okay?" she asks out of concern. "I'm so sorry...you looked like that nightmarish version of Porter..."

Radical waves at the pair as he walks over, "I realized that's what probably happened. It's okay. And the headache will fade in a bit. Ibuprofen works wonders, at least for me."

Grimm still looks like she feels awful about it. "I'm just glad I didn't use anything that could've done lasting damage."

"I guess that's a no on the liquor," comments Ghostfist when Radical mentions Ibuprofen. She presses her hand to a palm scanner next to the door, automatically opening the door so she can lead Grimm and Radical into the townhouse that seems to serve as her private investigation office.

The entry area is almost stereotypically a waiting room. A single desk is perched near the back of the foyer area, flanked by filing cabinets along the wall. Doors are set on the left and right walls, near the rear of the entry area. One is a plain wood door, the other has a frosted glass window that is labeled 'OFFICE' in black font.

Radical nods. "No booze for me. But don't let that stop you." He stops to admire the door with the frosted glass. "Very nice. It has a strong noir feel to it."

Grimm grins at Radical's comments. "I have a detective friend who would love this place. I used to apprentice under Frankie to learn about investigating and monster hunting." She looks around. "Where's that hot assistant of yours?"

"Off to greener pastures," replies Ghostfist to Grimm's question. She glances at Radical again before shrugging and closing the main door. It chirps as the door locks automatically, which causes the solid wood door to open automatically. Frankie heads in that direction, shrugging out of her Helligator Skin Coat along the way; it gets hung up on a rack next to the doorway and desk. "Kitchen's this way."

Grimm follows along wiht Frankie. "Oh, not keeping the whiskey in the desk drawer anymore?" she quips, trying to shake her melancholy and fear.

Radical follows as well, "Monster hunting?" He sounds surprised. But then he pauses, "I was going to say..that seems like a small market. But perhaps not. There are plenty of monsters around, to be honest."

"Private investigations pays the bills," replies Frankie, "Monster hunting is more of a... Passion project."

"And there's more monsters than one might expect. Sure, there are big bads, but there's others that lurk about," Gabrielle shrugs. "Frankie was there to help save me when Flyte captured me," she explains to Radical, not realizing his past visions may have spied her there.

Radical nods, and sounds like that helps piece things together. "That's where I've seen her before. When I looked back into the past. That makes sense."

"Retrocog," remarks Ghostfist, nonplussed, "Got it."

Frankie leads the way down a short hallway. It's more fitting for an Old Town townhouse than the foyer area was. She turns to the right and into a pleasant enough kitchen area. She goes straight to the fridge to recover a few bottles of what appear to be artisanal root beer. They get passed out before Frankie produces her Bowie knife from behind her back, using the silver-limned blade to pop the cap off of her bottle.

"So. You two going to tell me why Porter's casting spells and Gabrielle's aura is still fractured? I mean, I've seen some cracks before... But this is kind of a ing mess."

Grimm accepts the bottle and looks a little disappointed by the non-alcoholic drink. She twists her bottle using her t-shirt to help get enough of a grip. "Porter's been casting spells for a while. Dabbling? Scary enough. I think he ...thought he could help. He could see the cracks, too."

Radical nods slowly, "I think I'll let Grimm explain. I can fill in extra details that I know of if I notice anything I can add."

No one said that the root beer is non-alcoholic. Grimm may or may not notice the alcohol content warning on the label before she drinks it. Who knows.

"He didn't have that damn book with him this time. That's new. That's... Unsettling."

"Still?" Gabrielle asks in surprise. "I can't see the cracks myself. Which is weird." She looks to Radical, then back to Frankie, unsure of where to start. "That thing that was coming through the rift is somehow keeping these cracks into its prison dimension open. Trying to influence me to make them worse. Bigger. Wider. Maybe to get another foothold here," she explains. Her face pales at the vision she had outside.

"After I knocked out Radical, the one I thought was him started coming closer. He reached for my stomach and a black tentacle with all these red eyes tore its way through me and just kept going. I...I felt all of it. I thought it was happening. It was breaking through," she says uneasily, clearly still disturbed. "I was going to try and shift to a dead dimension or its realm, but the pain was too much...I couldn't. And then I passed out."

Radical listens, and then says, "It may help to start at the beginning. What Flyte did was try to open a gateway to allow an Elder God, N'zrathol, into this world. That rift...isn't wide enough for him to enter this world yet. But N'zrathol is holding it open, and trying to claw its way here. That's why her aura isn't waht you expect to see."

Radical adds, "I believe I can close the rift. But not with it holding the gap open. It would need to be...distracted by something. Drawn away, to give me time to heal the fissure. In an attempt to learn more about what's going on, I've spoken to Flyte himself...and gotten a look at hte book after it was reconstructed briefly. I've looked into the past...and the future. And while it's made the picture clearer, it hasn't provided a solution yet. The future I saw is one I'd like to avoid."

"... You..."

Frankie sets her alcoholic root beer down on the counter. Her hazel eyes shift toward Radicaly, intensifying in color as she focuses on him.

"You reconstructed the book. The book that I smoked to end the ritual Flyte was performing. The book full of Qliphothic secrets and knowledge Man was not meant to know. That book?"

Radical nods. "Well, I didn't. But someone else did. Then it was recorded electronically...and destroyed again. And since then...the electronic copies have also been destroyed."

Radical raises a brow, "And would you like to know WHY I went to that length? Because the future I saw indicated that the way this process was halted was only with Grimm's death. I want another solution. And I'm going to find one."

Grimm looks between the two of them and worries a fight's going to happen. "He's right, it wasn't him that copied the book. But he and someone else I care about risked reading it in the hopes of saving me."

"Right. Sure."

Frankie offers a low, predatory growl as her intensely hazel eyes remain focused on Radical for several long moments. She snorts and shakes her head, looking toward Grimm instead. The root beer is forgotten for the moment as Frankie focuses.

"So. You're looking for a way to dislodge Enzo Rolloff from the portal that's been punched into Grimm's soul. Once we dislodge its grip on her, you CAN fix the damage to her aura. That sound about right?"

Radical seems to notice a commonality between Frankie and Grimm. At least with the way Grimm treated him when they first met and were getting to know each other. "I believe I can, yes. It would probably require...let's say...6 seconds of uninterrupted spell casting on my part."

Grimm sips her rootbeer. The sugar is actually making her feel a bit better. "There was something else in your vision, right? You called it a ....a representation of N'zrathol? What was it exactly?"

Frankie folds her arms across her chest, watching and listening for the moment. Her interest in her beverage seems to have been replaced by all of the information being relayed to her.

Radical nods. "I thought it was, but upon further reflection, I'm not sure. It might be something else. It was a...man. But with tentacles for arms and legs. Your thread and his would have crossed, had you not died on that path, Grimm." He says for Frankie's benefit. "I see time as a series of threads, each representing a person's life. Each thread intertwines with another when you meet someone."

"Frankie, please," Grimm implores as she steps up to Radical's side and places a hand on his shoulder. "He's really gone above and beyond to help me, even after all the shick I've put him through." She's afraid to ask Frankie directly to cut Radical some slack, but hopes she's said enough.

Radical adds, "The reason I think it might not be a representation of N'zrathol is...I can see the Elder God itself if I try by looking across the dimensions. The guy with the tentacles could be an...agent of the thing? But I don't think it's actually the being itself."

"I'm being polite," replies Ghostfist. She shifts her gaze slightly, staring at Radical mask with calm, quiet contemplation for several moments. "Assuming that it can't be in two different dimensions at the same time, which I'm not ruling out because it's a thing Man Was Not Meant to Know, then it's an emanation or an avatar of the thing. Probably some poor sap that read the book and had their physical body corrupted by the exposure to cosmic elemental chaos."

Radical nods slowly. Though the use of the word 'chaos' does draw his attention. "That would make sense. Flyte himself is the likely candidate there. When I spoke to him, he was pretty far gone. I...am unsure if I could heal his mind." He blinks slowly, "I could try, I suppose. I suspect that might very well fail. He might be too far gone."

Grimm removes her hand from Radical's shoulder after Frankie says she's being nice. "How did Flyte look?" she asks Radical apprehensively. "Was he physically changed?"

Radical shakes his head, "No. Not at the time. But there was a nurse there who attacked me who was physically changed. A

Radical shakes his head, "No. Not at the time. But there was a nurse there who attacked me who was physically changed. A 'disciple' of his. A fan. She was reading his books. I was able to cure her, at least."

"Could be Flyte. Could be someone else," remarks Frankie. She sets her jaw, eyes narrowing as she ponders something.

Radical nods. "The appearance didn't ring a bell with me. That's why I initially assumed it was a humanoid representation of the Elder God."

"So...we technically don't need to worry about whoever that is if I don't survive long enough," Gabrielle mumurs dismally and takes a swig of rootbeer. She thinks a moment and looks up to Frankie. "Have you crossed pathes with Charity? The new Chosen One?"

"... No," replies Frankie. She may be fighting to resist the urge to make a bitingly sarcastic comment.

Grimm sighs, her shoulders sagging. "I guess I better learn how to sword fight, then," she comments bitterly. "I still don't get how a teenager kills me."

Radical shakes his head, "You don't remember what I said, Grimm. I believe you choose to sacrifice yourself. She's just the one doing the honors."

Grimm blinks and looks up at Radical. "If I did that...things must've seemed pretty hopeless," she says quietly.

Grimm says, "What in your vision made you think that...?"

Radical thinks back. "I seem to remember...that you were lying on the ground in a sparse area. Woods? Dirt? Grass? And she was standing over you. Certainly not in the city. I might be reading a bit into it by saying you likely sacrificed yourself. But I'm also basing that on what you told me: that you would do so, if necessary."

Ghostfist remains quiet for the moment, listening and observing.

Radical sighs, "Admittedly the future is hazy. The past is written. The future is vague. Many paths are possible."

Grimm stays quiet for a few moments and nods. "If it was me or the city or more? Yeah, I...I would," she admits.

Grimm swallows thickly. "Or if I wasn't able to, I'd hope someone else would do it for me," she murmurs, staring down into her rootbeer bottle. It's so very interesting all of a sudden.

Radical places a hand on Grimm's shoulder, "I know we're talking about this like it WILL happen. But that's not necessarily true. It is just one possibility. We have the means to change it before it happens. We do."

"That's the problem with precogs. Everyone either takes their descriptions as gospel or everyone takes them as liars."

Frankie takes a sip of her root beer.

"Lean too much one way or the other and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Grimm nods and takes comfort in that. She looks up to him. "I know. But one vision down...maybe two in a short amount of time. I thought it'd be easy to just not sacrifice myself, but after what just happened today...after what I saw. I worry."

Grimm looks to Frankie and says certainly, "Well, I know he's not a liar. And I know we can still change things. I'm just not sure how yet."

Radical nods. "Grimm, I know there's a solution. I can even see it. I'm just not sure how to pull it off. How do we distract this thing from it's attempt to get at you? I don't need long. But I do need some time." He shakes his head, "I could go to its dimension. But...I suspect that wouldn't go well. It's just a feeling that I get."

Grimm looks shocked at Radical's idea, then extremely worried. "But that could be dangerous. Suicide, even!"

Radical chuckles quietly. There's a hint of nervousness to it. "Yeah...it might be. But it also wouldn't be the craziest thing I've ever done. That was telling Lord Antherion to take a hike."

"I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life," comments Frankie toward Radical, "But going where the Great Old Ones Lie is about as bad an idea as reading their travel brochures."

Grimm certainly doesn't seem to like the idea of Radical risking himself. A far cry from how she treated him before. "We're not even sure if that prison dimension is survivable to humans."

Radical nods. "It's...not high on the list of options. Let's leave it at that. I could probably survive it briefly. But...there's no telling how long. So...I'm happy to try to come up with something else."

Grimm nods eagerly. "Yeah, let's keep trying the something else option."

"Other solutions are your best bet," remarks Ghostfist. She steps over and rests a hand on Grimm's shoulder. "We'll get this figured out."

Grimm nods softly, offering a weak smile to both. "I know. Got the best minds working on it," she comments. "And maybe that Dialydd guy has come up with something."

Radical thinks about it a moment, "I wonder...if it would be possible to say...draw it off with a beacon of some kind. Flyte used a spell to try to draw the Elder God's attention. Like a guide. What if we used it to draw it elsewhere? Maybe even a different pocket dimension?"

"Big enough source of life force or non-Qliphothic magic... Maybe a big portal into another extra-dimensional space..."

Ghostfist takes a sip of her root beer while squeezing on Grimm's shoulder. She looks over at Radical, cocking his head to one side.

"What kinda lure are you thinkin', Lincoln?"

Radical shakes his head, "I'm not sure. I'm just...tossing things out at this point. I was just thinking that it might work like...well, attracting a moth. We give it something to go for...a stronger beacon than Grimm. Or at least an easier target."

Radical says, "Then...as soon as it lets go of Grimm, we slam both doors shut."

Grimm nods slowly as she listens. "We just got to figure out what else it wants."

Frankie grunts at Radical. She ponders this intently.

Radical takes a long deep breath. "Taht was part of the reason I considered going there personally. But I think I'd have to be the one to close the rift that's part of Grimm's aura. And I can't be in two places at once."

Radical shakes his head, "The more I think about it, going there is even less feasible as an option. The creatures there tend to be...interdimensional. Therefore the dimension itself is a prison, right? I can't just...enter and leave as I wish. I could probably close the rift from teh other side, but then I'd be trapped."

Frankie shrugs at Radical, looking back toward Grimm thoughtfully.

"Yeah, no. That can't happen, then. I'm not letting you do that," Grimm says firmly.

Grimm looks at Frankie. "You deal with crazy artifacts. Is there anything that could be useful?"

"I'll have to do some research," replies Frankie. Which may require her to put in a power-up for skills. She smiles at Grimm and gives her a firm squeeze on the shoulder. "We'll get this figured out."

"Well, we definitely have some new and different ideas," Gabrielle agrees. She's worried of course, but hopeful. She even offers a smile.

Radical nods, "Hmm. There's one other thing that might be worth noting." He thinks about it for a moment. "The Elder God's grip weakened when you were feeling positive, Grimm. Negative emotions strengthen it...and positive ones weaken it. So...what if...isntead of luring it away, we may you...unpalatable. By flooding you with positive emotions somehow? Then I can try closing the rift?"

Grimm blinks and blushes a bit. "So...do all the things that make me happy? And try not to fear what's around the corner? That...might work. Or help? If that's what makes it weaken its hold on me."

"Sounds like you have free range to spend all of your time with Malcolm," opines Ghostfist.

Radical nods. "I'm loathe to suggest it, but perhaps it could also been induced in some way."

Grimm sighs and fiddles with her bottle. "Yeah, if I can nail him down..."

Grimm shivers a bit and looks to Radical. "Stepford wife? I don't know how I feel about that. But given the direness...? Huh."

"Stepford wife?" asks a puzzled Ghostfist.

Radical nods, "I...don't know how I feel about that, either. It's umm....pretty antithetical to the way that I want people to be able to live their lives."

"Who could even do something like that?" Gabrielle asks uncomfortably. She looks to Frankie, then draws a finger along the corner of her mouth as she puts in a creepy grin and tilts her head vapidly. "I'm so happy, teehee!" It looks unnatural. She drops the act. "You should google it."

Ghostfist squints at Grimm. She simply plugs her mouth with root beer and shrugs her shoulders, stepping toward the fridge to acquire another round of drinks.

Grimm says, "Think perfect happy 1950's house wife."

Radical shakes his head, "Not me. That's well outside my range of abilities. Technical or mystic. But that's not really what I was thinking, to be honest. Think more like...a happy trip on drugs. All you feel is warmth and love and contentment."

Gabrielle's jaw drops and looks around, then back to Radical. "Are you suggesting I do ecstasy?" She pretends to be appauled. Especially because Radical happens to secretly be her math professor.

Ghostfist looks over her shoulder at Grimm and Radical for a few seconds. She looks back into the fridge and shakes her head, muttering something about hippies under her breath.

Radical shrugs, "I'm not really sure. I have to be honest. I...don't do drugs. And haven't, other than booze. I don't even know which one would be appropriate, if you were to try it."

Grimm raises a brow at Radical. "Really? You sure?" she seems skeptical now.

Radical chuckles. "Um....not cocaine, right? Because that'll make you hyper. Umm..." He scratches his chin slowly as he thinks about it.

Grimm smirks at Radical. "I'm a college student. I can ask around for stuff. Probably at one of the concerts around here."

Radical adds, "Nothing that will cause hallucinations. No depressants."

Radical says, "Warm. Fuzzy. That's what you'd be going for."

"Now you're just ruling out all of the good stuff," comments Ghostfist as she shuts the fridge door. She returns to the kitchen island, passing out another round of beverages.

Radical chuckles. "I just think that hallucinations would likely cause the opposite of what we want."

Grimm cringes and remembers. "Yeah, I saw some scary stuff while sober. I think no hallucinations, please."

Next: Log:Coffee Prophecy