Dresden Files: Caught in the Undertow

Bartholomew Dee

"The Blackened Denarians?" Bartholomew asks in confusion?

He's never heard of them before

Deidre

"That's what Father always said..."

Danger, Fix Robinson. Danger.

Nicodemus

He's kneeled over Elaine, fishing out a cell phone as he does so.

"This is Nick Lionheart. John? Can you hear me?"

He certainly doesn't look particularly evil. Absent-minded, and focused on his work, but he seemed nice enough.

He was married, too, apparently, with a daughter. It seemed rather far-fetched for such a man, who he had seen to be jumpy, twitchy, and to possess nearly zero combat skills to be some sort of grand threat.

Marcone

The phone rings, and Nicodemus is on the other end. He's not giving the man a chance to speak back, though. And he's talking in code.

"This is Nick Lionheart. John? Can you hear me?"

A brief pause.

"Look, I'm going to have to reschedule our meeting; something's come up. Someone got assaulted, and they want me as a witness."

Another pause.

"Stop it. You know I'm happily married, John...yes. Yes, the officer is cute. Blonde. No, I'm not going to describe her anymore, John; she's a human being for Chrissake. I know this is going to limit the time we have before the deal; I'm not a moron, obviously. Look. It's very simple. We'll still have the meeting at ten; there's this great sculpture in Hyde Park where we can talk. No, I'm sure the radiation won't be an issue; that's over 60 years old. Fine. Good night, John. Tell my daughter I love her."

Click.

Marcone
He listens carefully and attentively, his features perfectly even. He waits until Nicodemus hangs up. He carefully puts everything to memory, to be considered at his leisure later. Then hewalks over to his door, and checks to make sure the hallway is clear. When it is, he closes the door and bursts out laughing at the impromptu performance.
When his mirth subsides, he frowns a little. So Nicodemus did know about Dedire. Well that was a shame. But hardly of due concern. As for the meeting... well, somewhere in the open and still private enough to have a conversation. Seemed too good to be true.
He presses his intercom. "Mr Hendricks? Sweep out Hyde Park. Not all of it, just the main bit. And please inform Miss Gard to have an extraction team in the Nevernever on standby in case you miss something."
And just like that, he was again in control of the situation, he gets back to work.

Marcone

The statue he's talking about is easily found. Located on the campus of the University of Chicago, it's a commemoration of the first man-made controlled nuclear reaction.

Spoiler:

It was, he also noted, a nearly perfect spot for a meeting. Despite being next door to both one of the major dormitories and the library, the area around the statue was almost always empty; people feared walking on the ground that might still be radioactive. Meeting at 10 at night meant that the University streets would be nearly deserted, as it was too early for parties and too late for classes.

And, Ms. Gard soon reported, the metaphysical significance of the spot meant that passage to and from the Nevernever was all but impossible at that particular area.

Marcone
Well. Other then the time, which was a little suspicious, it all seemed fine to him. Just the same, he resolved to bring a few bodyguards. Nicodemus was much too old and canny to believe he would be the one to institute treachery or be hung up on the number of men he brought with him, afterall.
"Have the helicopter on hand then. It is important to be prepared."

Sanya

Sanya gives Fix a significant look, mouthing the words: 'Psycho Incest Girl' with a tilt of his head towards Deirdre.

Karrin Murphy
But she's already gone, and didn't hear you. Looks like you'll have to do it alone, despite your misgivings.

She gets to her car, and opens the trunk, removing what looks like an old, battered walking cane, covered with knicks and scratches. The varnish is uneven, but it still feels smooth beneath her hands.

She lifts it, fixing the strap around her shoulder. It feels good. But heavy. Then she reaches pu to her jacket and removes her newly reinstated badge, which she places carefully on the drivers seat. No clash of symbols that way.

There is no bolt of lightning, and God fails to materialize and talk out of a flaming bush, but she feels better, like a burden has been lifted. Of course, that could just be a weight of her shoulders at coming to a decision. Turning, she walks back, her blue eyes fixing on the Old Lion.

It's this point that the ambulence arrives.

Fix
"See? Nothing to be afraid of. Can you help me? If you do, I might be able to give you a special treat." He's into unknown territory, but if he can just get her to agree... well, he can take her over to the Twilight woods and leave her there to let go of everything and be freed from all bonds and troubles, then talk to her. By then, she'll sing if he asked her. Problem is, while she's crazy and more then a little naive, she still knows enough not to give consent ever.

"I know you're a good girl. And that's why I need you to do me this special favor."

Thomas
He feels distinctly ill all of a sudden at a memory of his father and sister, and steps out of the room, where he attempts to sit down and keep from retching.

Sartorius

He sat in his chair as watched the bouts and feasted on the emotions associated with the heat of battle. He took a deep drag from his Cuban cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke. He sighs as he takes the cigar out his mouth. He was BORED and Sartorius hated boredom. What could he do though he had fought all of his men already and had killed 20 out of 200 in matches in less that a minute, and that was without his powers. He didn't want to kill of all his men. Sigh if only.... He then had an idea, he could go topside! He needed new fighters anyway, and from what he heard from some of the boys who actually had lives there was some serious shit going down. Serious shit meant serious fighters and serious fighters made Sartorius seriously happy. So he gets up and heads over to his top fighter and, dare he say it, friend Minato. Minato was a japanese man with red hair and red leather straps around his hands at a height of about 5'7. Minato looked up and says to Sartorius, "What is it Aniki?" (Aniki is japanese for brother or can be used as slang for boss, the second use is usually used by the Yakuza) Sartorius then says, "nothing Minato I just need you to take over for a while here, I'm going topside. I just need you to keep the fights going make sure only every 1 out of 50 fights end in deaths and make sure that Zeed doesn't kill anymore of his hookers I don't care if you have to beat him to a fucking pulp just do it. Plus todays shipment of drugs should come in today, do standard procedure and everything should be fine." Minato nods and goes back to his punching bag punching at about 60 punches per minute. Sartorius then goes out though the strip club and nods at Mike the tough, 6'2, and buff looking bartender and on the way passed by one of the strippers who worked in the very, very minor (as in only her) information network Miki a purple haired (natural believe it or not) curvacious and flirty 20 year old woman. She had a bit of a thing for Sartorius. She gave him a sultry wink as he headed out dropping his usual into his pockets, 3 kenetic energy rings from his store room of alchemic objects, about 150 bucks, and a flame breath potion. With a quick squeeze of her round behind as a thank you he heads out and into the city his brilliant red eyes alight with excitement. He then closes his eyes and uses his 'senses as a man and street fighter' to find people with strong auras.

Nicodemus

He stands to the side, and waves nervously at Murphy.

Deidre

Uh-Oh.

"That's."

Her eyes flash red, and the second, demonic set appears above her human eyes. Xandriel's seal burns itself onto her forehead.

"What."

Her hair turns to razor-edged steel whips, and her knees become reverse-jointed.

"Father."

She grows another foot in height, and scales cover her body.

"Said!"

Enraged, she begins pounding at the circle once more, all of Fix's prior progress now destroyed.

Sanya

Sanya holds Esperacchius aloft, it's Holy Light resounding through the small chamber they find themselves in.

"Is this truly the daughter of Nicodemus, the most cool, collected, and dangerous man I've ever met? " He asks Deirdre rhetorically.

"You'd think he'd teach his daughter some of his famous self-control."

Bartholomew Dee

Bartholomew sticks his hands into his pockets as he walks over to 'Nicholas Lionheart'.

"Sooooo..." He says. "What do you do for a living, Mr. Lionheart?"

Kincaid
His teeth were growing back, like a sharks. Exactly like a sharks, actually. When they came out, they were over pronounced and sharp. It took them a while to settle and become human. It was agony before they did.
His knee was strong enough to stand on again, and if they feed him he could get some more blood in him and regain some muscle-tone. He'd tried the bars, but they were good. He couldn't get out that way on a good day, let alone at the moment. He ached, and when he moved his joints clicked in protestation, but he was alive.

Vlad
It had been his idea of a spectacle.
They banked timbers along both sides of the hall, and doused them in oil. Higher and higher they piled them, until they filled the space. Then the beasts stepped back, and Vlad moved to stand in the center. Luccario was led in, removing her shield bracelet, her staff, her wand and sword, and all the other accruements of an experienced combat wizard. Now dressed only in her slacks, shirt and grey cloak, barefoot and seeming smaller and more vulnerable, she made her way over to Vlad and faced him squarely. Ramirez sat over to the side, as witness.
"I had begun to think you had come to your senses. I am glad that you have not."
Luccario only sniffed in disdain. "Surely that's beneath you."
"This is all so childish." Carlos says, his voice carrying in the odd acoustics of the hall, far further and louder then he intended.
"On the contrary, a duel of honor is the last bastion of civilization. The situation might be contrived by your council, but it is designed to maximize fairness of combat. it is certain that one, or the other, will die in a few moments, and in their death will prove the right of the victor. It is the last resort of law, trial by ordeal. A fascinating process."
"Barbaric, you mean." Ramirez replies, not looking at his conversationalist.
"On the surface, perhaps. But name one form of war that isn't. It is immensely cultured. take the phrase 'throwing down the gauntlet'. It comes from the ritual of the duel. One accepts the challenge by picking up the glove, or gauntlet, and there are, of course, many alternatives that could provide satisfaction. Blood, of course, that the first blood above the waist is a loss. Then the ultimate price, as we see here, which is no satisfaction or pause is possible until one or the other is deceased. Of course, they would be equally within their rights to call a cease when one or the other is incapacitated, albeit not necessarily fatally."
"Fascinating." Ramirez drawled. "But I'd rather be a lover then a fighter."
"Oh, but aren't they both the domain of gentlemen? The word 'duel', for instance, could be derived from the old, Germanic word for war, 'duellum', but could equally be derived from the word 'duo', giving new meaning to the term of one-on-one combat. Of course, my favorite is much older, coming from very old Russian, meaning 'to burn', or 'to destroy'.
Vlad was leaning on his cane, dressed in black, his look impeccable. It was a faintly ridiculous image, a prowling tiger in a tuxedo.
"No Mordite?" She asks, with a sneer. It was the traditional way of settling this sort of engagement, far less crude then the alternatives, but it was also hard to come by. "You are an insufferable monster, and it's time you were cut down.
"But are you the woman to do it? No. I have chosen my champion. Fire." She started, shocked, as around her his children appeared, carrying flaming torches to the piles, which they touched to the oil soaked wood, and the flames leapt up, already raging out of control.
The heat was staggering from the stands. Within it must be unbearable, but Vlad only watched dispassionately.
"The duel has begun. To succeed, you must defeat Fire, and not burn." The flames were already pressing in around her shoulders as she tried to force a barrier, but it was impossible. It came from all sides, and the smoke choked her, giving her nothing to breathe. Vlad only watched, seeming bored, as she burned, untouched by the flames licking at his feet. "Burn the witch." He sneered, seeming to be enjoying himself immensely.
Ramirez got to his feet with a curse, lowering his staff, but before he could do anything the figure behind him grabbed him by the shoulder, snapped the bone and threw him aside, where he crashed into the wall unconscious.
Vlad only watched as the fire ate away at her, listening to her screams. She'd tried to use her power, but it had been like punching fog, there was no way to redirect that much heat using herself as a channel without burning herself to death from within in the process. She was powerless without her staff and protections, and the force she lobbed at Vlad barely ruffled his hair.
Then she glared, and the screaming stopped. Gathering all she had, she yelled "Rot and perish!" Then it was over, and she was no more then a blackened skeleton in the orange flames.
Vlad felt the Death curse enfold him, flow through him, and ignored it. He walked back up the stairs to the roof, to watch the city again. His city now.

Nicodemus

"I work as an analyst for one of the smaller hedge funds; you know, calculating risk and so forth. It's very technical, highly complicated stuff; you see..."

The next five minutes are spent with Nikolas explaining something called "statistical arbitrage," with Dee quickly losing track of what Nikolas is saying.

"...and thus, via as liquidity reaches infinity, we can consistently show excellent profits by spreading risk out through a series of options."

Dee's head hurts.

Bartholomew Dee

Bartholomew Dee frowns for a long time. Then he says:

"But doesn't your risk-expansion strategy lead to investor fatigue? I'd make more sense if you adopted a strategy of risk trepenation to acquire the right threshold of investment-to- investor transmigration."

I have no idea what I just said. Bartholomew thought. So let's see how he responds.

Nicodemus

He frowns at Dee's question.

"You're speaking nonsense. Are you..." he looks wounded. "making fun of me?"

Bartholmoew Dee

"Heck no!" Bartholomew says, feeling really embaressed. "I guess I was trying to appear smart. Sorry. Won't do it again. Uh, so how do you know Elaine here?" He hastily says, nodding at the unconscious wizard.

Is this guy really bad news? He seems...nice enough. Bartholomew ponders.

In an idle state of mind, he takes out a deck of cards and begins doing some one hand shuffles, splits, and forces to occupy his left hand.

Nicodemus, Dee
The ambulance stops, and the paramedics get out. They remove your improvised pressure bandage and check her signs, pulse, pupil dilation, breathing and all the rest. Fortunately her wound is not serious, it's as much exhaustion as concussion, but she'll likely be a bit woozy when she does wake up.
With that, she's taken in and brought to the hospital. The American Health-care system may suck, but she's got her insurance taken care of, so she'll get good treatment. Furthermore, several police cars arrive, surrounding the place, sirens sounding. News of Kincaid's rampage has now reached them.

Nicodemus

"So, officer...you still need me to take a statement?"

Ivy

The area around the waterfront begins to warp, rippling outwards slightly, and Ivy emerges from its center.

She's still dressed in a pair of pink footy-pajamas, and a bathrobe. But she has a mission, and clothing really doesn't matter at a time like this.

Holding a small crystal aloft, she begins heading towards Kincaid's position.

Sartorius, Ivy
The Archive correctly determines the position of Kincaid. He is roughly twenty meters below you, and seventy away. All in all, a well calculated journey. Of course, it doesn't tell you how to get there, just where exactly he is. And tunneling seems a proposition of last resort.
So you will have to go into one of these buildings. All of these buildings are less classy then the sort of places Kincaid frequented, and do not allow children. Either they are property of the shipping companies, or they are places for sailors and stevedores to spend some money when they get back on shore.
And there was a big man, pretty in an unnatural sort of way, with the attitude of a killer and the lean, whipcord muscles of a martial artist. He seems the best place to start.

The underground king of the fighting starts as he spots the girl, no more then ten or eleven, appear in her pajamas and begin making her way purposefully towards you, in a slow, even pace that was like the march of time, unstoppable. The fact that she was holding a small box, and an even smaller stuffed animal in small arms somehow failed to detract from the menace.

Nicodemus
The police man points you over to Murphy. She's wearing the sword, and while she's trying not to be too obvious about it, it's clear she's seen through you.

Ebenezer McCoy
There is a knock on your door. It’s polite, he has an amulet to protect himself from your wards. You’re old friends, it’s only natural.
When you don’t answer, Wizard Listens-to-Wind, or Injun Joe, opens the door and lets himself in. He takes the bottle out of your hand, then he takes the opposite chair, sitting down gracefully and looking at Ebenezer with dark, compassionate eyes, the eyes of one who knows what it is to experience loss.
"There is an Ute prayer," Joseph says in a low, melodic voice. “One very relevant now, in your time of loss."

Sartorius

His eyes turn to slits for a minute before they return to normal. Even if she wasn't ordinary this girl wasn't a fighter, at least not first. No she had the look of someone who was a bussinesswoman first everything else second. Even so she was still powerful, and for someone that powerful to be right on his doorstep? She must be looking for something, and he wanted in. He walks up to her and says, "Alright short stuff what are you doin' in this neck of the woods cause it sure ain't for the atmosphere."

Ivy

She's twelve, and dressed in footy pajamas; she doesn't look like much of anything except perhaps adorable, sleep-tousled blonde hair and all.

"You are in the way. Leave, or I will not be merciful."

She attempts to simply sidestep the vampire, heading into his strip club.

Nicodemus

He approaches Murphy, then, standing perhaps a foot away from her.

"Officer Murphy."

Sartorius

A twich, and then another twich. That brat just blew him off! When she sidesteps he sidesteps with her as he says, "Whoa whoa whoa, not only in MY part of town, but your trying to get into MY club, after blowing ME off. Now whats wrong with this picture. Plus whats with the box shrimp. Also your like what, 12 what are you doing in this district." Now Sartorius is a little ticked off and he is controlling his temper while trying not to seem to threatening. She may look like a little girl, but in little girl that came here? At night of all times? Lets just say that she would have been running for the hills by now.

Murphy
Suddenly she's flooded with confidence, her uncertainty dissipating all at once. "I know who you are. Drop the charade." She orders, the trumpets of command sounding brazenly in her voice. Quite unconsciously, she shits to a ready stance, her center of balance lowering, the cane sword in one hand ready to be flicked out at a moments notice. "I know you're not interested in redemption. So I won't be merciful."

Ebernezzer McCoy
Ebenezer cuts him off. "Can it. I got no mind to hear your bullshit tonight." Ebenezer growls dangerously. "Or get the hell out of my cabin." He belligerently and emphatically reaches to reclaim the gin and, snatching it from his oldest friends hand, raises it to his mouth. He's not crying. He wishes he could, but the tears won't come. Instead he just endures the emptiness.

Nicodemus

"Or what? You strike me down? Here? In front of that charming police officer?"

He's got a point; she can't do anything to him while the normal's around. Not if she wants to keep her job...and not wind up with an assault charge.

"So, smile, Officer Murphy. Smile and take down my statement and admit defeat this round."

Ivy

"I suppose I should show you."

She slides open the box. What emerges hovers above the air, looking vaguely like a cloud of ink in clear water, foaming and cloudy, and roughly the size of a human two closed fists. The cloud moves slowly towards Sartorious, and he instinctively steps back; his every instinct tells him that the bubble is a Very Bad Thing.

"This is not 'your' part of town, by far, and your establishment has not been filed as such with the Chicago municipal government. My business is my own, and you are in my way. I repeat. Please vacate the immediate vicinity."

The bubble continues to drift and approach Sartorius slowly.

She was not a shrimp. She was in the 46th percentile in regards to height/weight in her age group. This was down from earlier due to a delay in her adolescence. Statistically speaking, this was nothing to be concerned about yet.

She still was.

Deidre

Well, he would. If he had intended for Deirdre to be anything approaching his equal.

But she isn't. She's his pet, for lack of a better term. His daughter and his lover. There isn't any semblance of equality to their relationship.

Bartholomew Dee

Unfortunately, Bartholomew was close enough to hear Nicodemus's gloating tone, and how his voice changed from 'clumsy, earnest, Yuppie' to 'Eloquent Villain'.

It's a minor setback at best. But then again, one can never have enough unwitting pawns.

"Oh crap." Bartholomew says quietly. "You're one of those charismatic bad guys, aren't you? Dammit, you seemed so nice!"

Nicodemus

"Do take care of Elaine for me, Officer Murphy. She's very important to me, after all. And of course, I'll be seeing you very shortly, Mr. Dee."

With that, he flicks his wrist, and a small, spinning disk is thrown at Bartholomew, glancing off the back of his hand before rolling into an more shadowed part of the alley.

As he does so, Nicodemus strides off, whistling The Devil went down to Georgia as he does so.

Spoiler: