The corpse goes sploosh, below.

Anaharath gets back in her car and drives, going no more than 10 mph above the speed limit.

The luxury car fits right in with the slightly-speeding multitudes on the highway, although once Anaharath comes to the turnoff for Pleasant Valley, it becomes - not atypical, but far more lonely.

Anaharath drives calmly.

Pleasant Valley is an ordinary-seeming city, except for the occasional random person flying up into the clouds. The route burned into Anaharath's brain does not lead into the section of city sporting these unlikely aviators, however, but rather leads off along side streets to - Anaharath is almost certain the place is called "Even Pleasanter."

Anaharath . o O (Why are there people flying into the clouds? Hm. Well, it makes sense. Perhaps these are also Chosen Ones.)

Anaharath heads for Even Pleasanter, though not at speeds fit to leave trails of fire behind her wheels, sadly enough.

It is now evening - at least, for a winter day. As Anaharath passes into the Even Pleasanter development, only three short lengths of road and two turns away, all the lights in the complex go out. Not quite simultaneously; rather, the power failure seems to race from the edge of the development (or outside it) inwards towards - well, possibly the house she's driving for.

Anaharath . o O (Eh?)

Anaharath frowns.

Anaharath drives faster.

Jake emerges from the house and races into his truck.

A few seconds after Jake slams the door of his truck shut, Anaharath comes around the corner to the block where Mary's house stands. By now, all the lights are dead.

Anaharath pulls into the driveway as if she owned the place and gets out with all possible haste.

As Anaharath turns into the driveway, there is the characteristic sound and shudder of a tire blowing.

Anaharath curses the weak rubber mildly. She'll change it when she finds out what the hell is going on.

Anaharath looks around for signs of life. Flashlights, people moving around, etc., in the target house.

In a truck parked next to the driveway, someone is rooting around looking for something.

Jaakobah roots around in his truck. Root root root. Somewhere in here is his flashlight. He just knows it.

Anaharath strides over to this person with all the pride of a proper angel of God.

Jaakobah utterly ignores her. Root root root. Dig dig dig. His mind is consumed with the thoughts of the artifacts in the bedroom.

Anaharath stands about 4 feet away from this person, arms folded. "Ahem."

A flashlight appears, not with the suddenness of an Archangelic gift, but rather with the obtuse "I've been under the seat all along" irascibility of a Calabite.

Jaakobah grabs the flashlight, turns it on, spins around, and shines it right into the face of the person standing behind him.

Jaakobah was not expecting her to be there. He jumps and makes a vague "Aaaaaaah!" noise of someone startled.

The person standing there is female, curvaceous, and has faint flame-tattoos all over her skin. She squints and raises one fire-patterened hand to shade her eyes.

A black design, as convoluted and strange as Jake's Boss, stands out distinctly on her forehead.

Anaharath scowls. "What has happened here?" she demands.

The Habbalite sees a similar design on Jake's brow as well, although not quite so illumined.

Jaakobah says, in his currently distracted state, "Yeah, excuse me." And he slides out of the truck and starts walking up to the still open front door, flashlight in hand.

Anaharath follows. "I am here at the Burning One's direction. Where is the Chosen Mother?"

Jaakobah spins on his heel, and shines the flashlight right into Ana's eyes. "If I knew, would I be going back into that house of insanity? I don't THINK so."

Jaakobah turns back, suit jacket flying, and strides into the house.

Elsewhere ...

The Calabite's drinking Vessel (Jimmy) has found some fine upstanding whiskey in the town's only bar and consumed it. The whiskey suffers its Fate with typical alcoholic courage.

At the edges of Reno's vision, he can see - right through the walls - a black shape approaching.

There's another black shape. There's - there's - there's an awful lot of them. And they're homing in on the pub, ebony wings beating.

Jimmy says "Oh, fuck."

At Mary Olson's House

Anaharath follows this singluarly unhelpful man into the house, scowling.

Jaakobah stands in the foyer, looking for something long, like a fireplace poker, to wield.

The entryway has standard entryway things, the only notable item a garish multicolored umbrella. In the darkness beyond - a living room, it seems, with magazines and a half-finished wine glass and a door to the kitchen and a door to a hall and a TV and a stereo.

Jaakobah grabs the umbrella and starts walking toward the bedroom. That's where most of the weirdest stuff was.

Anaharath says, with strained patience, "Please explain what is going on. I only just got here. We can help each other." She tries to project CALM at this person.

(Jaakobah resists. The resonance bounces. Anaharath becomes calm.)

Jaakobah spins around, flashlight in one hand, umbrella in the other, looking a tad psychotic. It's been a long day. "Mary Mother of God is Missing."

At the Only Chance Bar ...

Most of the inhabitants of the bar have gotten to their feet, some in panic, and some with combative and unruly expressions on their faces.

The rest in the bar seem too drunk to notice anything at all.

Jimmy realizes he is in his nondescript yet physically weak vessel. Dammit. He decides to go to the men's room.

The men's room looks frighteningly - spotless. Almost unused.

The black shapes continue to converge, although they're now very slightly off-center. They're definitely Malakim now.

Jimmy finds a spotless window in the spotless bathroom, and attempts to turn it into spotless shards of glass powder.

With a spang, spang, spang, Jimmy sees a Calabite, an Impudite, and a Djinn abandon their Vessels in the bar behind him.

Jimmy .oO ( Oh good. Distraction.) He balls up a big chunk of Bad in the back of his mind, and throws it at the window.

Spang. Habbalite. Spang. Another Impudite.

Spack! The window fabooshes.

In Mary Olson's House

Anaharath says, calmly, "Ah. That is a problem. What is wrong with the house that you are so distressed?"

Jaakobah says "It's very very very very very VERY very weird."

Jaakobah says "You'll discover this soon enough."

Anaharath says, calmly, "There are many weird things. Is it dangerous?"

Jaakobah heads back toward the bedroom to poke at the clothing with the umbrella. "There's a possibility that it will take your face right off."

Anaharath says, calmly, "Ah. That could be a problem. Is Mary missing only, or is she dead?"

Jaakobah says "If I knew.... I don't think she's dead yet, as I'm not dead yet."

Jaakobah strides into the bedroom, his balseraphic vessel tall and long-legged.

Anaharath follows, calmly, looking around herself and contemplating how much more she could see if the house were on fire. However, burning down the house is not in her objectives right now.

The hallway is normal enough. The bedroom - the bedroom has evidence of erotic activity, and also a lot of clothes still scattered on the floor. All of the male clothing is amazingly multifunctional relic/talisman stuff, the kind that would take a good enchanter a few centuries to make; the female clothing is either normal or talismanic, for the most part. Evidently, the woman who wore that bra was quite skilled as a sculptor.

Jaakobah stands before the bed, wielding the flashlight and umbrella. He sneers at the artifacts. Ah ha, he thinks. I've got you now, right where I want you. Laying there calm, benign, I can see right through your thin veneer of complacency right to the core of your devilish ways.

Jaakobah pokes the clothing with the umbrella. Poke. Poke poke poke.

Anaharath blinks. Then blinks some more.

Jaakobah lifts bits with the tip of the umbrella and shakes them, looking for clues.

At the Only Chance Bar ...

Over the window and through the woods, from the Heavenly Host we run....

Jimmy climbs through the window, baby.

... and is out.

The Djinn and two Impudites drop into Hell.

Jimmy runs around the pub and heads for his car.

Jimmy reaches the car easily enough, but the Malakim are almost upon him! In the pub, more demons are Descending. And - the Djinn's paws suddenly slam up through the floor, scrabbling desperately for leverage on the corporeal plane, before sinking back with a terrible finality into the Infernal Realm. This appears to give the demons inside pause.

Jimmy throws open the door and all but dives into the car, desperately trying to start it.

Click-click-click-fbroom. The car starts. Two Malakim drop into corporeality right over Jimmy, one sinking its claws into the hood and the other trying to smash in the back window.

The others continue past Renosham into the bar.

Jimmy jams the car into |D| and floors it. Meanwhile, he prepares another heapin' helpin' of Bad for the Malakite on the hood.

The car streaks forward! The Malakim are making short work of the demons, from what Jimmy can see before the angle is no longer right, and two are dragging the Habbalite away. The Malakite in front digs his claws in harder, trying to carve his way into the engine block; the Malakite on back falls off, rolls to his feet, and lashes out with - something, glowing ever so slightly, at the back of the car. Only half a second later, it jerks him viciously along the ground after Renosham, much like a cord tied to the car's bumper would. The Malakite doesn't seem to notice what this is doing to his shoes.

Jimmy pays no attention to the dragging Malakite. Right now he has a fistfull of Nasty for the one on the hood. FABOOSH!

The Malakite, with the grim stoicism of the incredibly strong, shrugs the entropy away from his soul and body.

At Mary Olson's House

Anaharath calmly swears a blue streak for several seconds, then trails off. "Perhaps this was intended, but it should not have happened for eleven more days."

Something in Jaakobah's pocket sings, angelically, "Reschedule on day planner?"

Anaharath turns her head calmly. "What was that?"

Jaakobah is shaking the clothing with the tip of his umbrella. "He either came in or left through the back door, coming through the back yard. He touched the glasses, the sink, the fridge. Came into here, had nookie. There's a rip in the mattress that is just weird.

Jaakobah says as he shakes the clothing out, "That's my pocketwatch."

Anaharath asks, calmly, "Rip? Weird? How so?"

Jaakobah makes a vague gesture at the rip.

Anaharath investigates this rip. Visually. Calmly.

Both hear the tingle of a Superior arrival, but not near them.

The rip is a small rip in the bedsheet, with air hissing into it.

The Habbalite can't quite make out what's on the other side.

Anaharath . o O (Eep.)

On the Road (near the Only Chance Bar)

Jimmy has two Malakim to hit with the Nasty! Let's see what #2 does!

The resonance rebounds again. However, the Malakite's eyes widen and he barks something in angelic.

The Calabite hears the tingle of a Superior arrival, but not near him.

The Malakite is yelling, "Anointed one!" Or, possibly, "Messiah!"

Jimmy oh shits. Do either of the Malakim have the Mark?

The Malakim do not have the mark.

However, the Malakite on the front of the car is bracing himself, evidently in preparation to take off again.

The car races past a sleepy (if somewhat dark) housing development.

Jimmy looks out his window, and blows his rear bumper onto the street.

Jimmy then proceeds to tear ass through the housing development, looking for a phone booth.

The Malakite in back tumbles to the ground, rolls, and flits up into the sky. The Malakite in front shoves himself off into the air. With fine respect for the laws of physics and the speed of his departure, the car skews sideways onto a lawn and straight for the edge of a house!

In Mary Olson's House

Anaharath looks for something to poke into the rip to find out why air is hissing into it.

Anaharath will take out her cigerette lighter - she's Fire; she's got to have one! - and flick it open to get a closer look at the rip.

Anaharath asks, calmly, "By the way, what is your name?"

Jaakobah says "Jake. Are you thinking positive thoughts? You better be, we're not going to figure out where she went with negative additudes."

Anaharath says, "I am very calm. You may call me Ana."

Jaakobah says "Calm is good. Calm has it's upsides."

Jaakobah sits on the bed with the flashlight, and pulls the tax forms out of the inner pocket of his suit.

Anaharath frowns. "Ah. I did not realize, when the Burning One told me her current wherabouts were unknown, that unknown was meant, and not just, 'She's not at home, but will return soon."

Anaharath gets up and searches the drawers for something -- a nail file, say -- to poke into the rip. If this is not there, she will check the bathroom for a toothbrush.

There is a nail file, although it is not a talisman.

Jaakobah says in an offhand way, "Beware the Glade Plug-In."

Anaharath nods. "All right. Why?"

Anaharath carefully pokes the nail file into the rip in the bed, sliding it around.

The nail file wiggles around for a moment and then snaps.

Jaakobah says "Because it is Bad."

Anaharath pulls out the nail file and tries to determine why it snapped -- did it hit something?

Anaharath asks, calmly and absently, "Why is it Bad?"

Jaakobah tries to read the tax forms with the flashlight.

Jaakobah says "If I knew, then I could EXPLAIN THIS HOUSE."

Anaharath says, calmly, "Ah. All right. Why did all the power go out?"

Jaakobah says "I don't know the physics behind it."

The edge of the nail file, where it snapped, is very very sharp. And colder than Belial is hot.

Anaharath contemplates the sharp nail file. "I think we should go into the kitchen and find some pliers and duct tape, and tape this rip shut."

Jaakobah nods absently while he studies the forms.

The tax forms appear sadly dull and boring. So do the Post-It notes stuck to the backs of several of them, giving things like times when a repairman will be coming and such.

Anaharath gets up, calmly, and says, "Is there anything dangerous in the kitchen?"

Jaakobah says "Yes."

Anaharath says, calmly, "Then please accompany me to the kitchen so that we may, together, defeat anything which might seek to harm us."

Jaakobah looks up, blinking, from the tax forms. "You, a big strong embassary of the Hot To The Touch One, a mistress of control, needs help fending off a refridgerator?"

Anaharath says, calmly, "I don't know. My skills are not as a fighter, but as the midwife of the Chosen Mother."

The calmness slowly fades.

Anaharath begins to scowl again.

Jaakobah takes the postit notes and memorizes the times. This might be useful information, you never know. "True. It might be a truly terrifying refridgerator, and you might not be able to deal with such a confrontation." He gets up off the bed and straightens his tie. He's a little bit closer to being in control of himself again. "You need me to protect you, since I have seen the goals and I know the path to attain them."

Anaharath narrows her eyes. "Possibly. Or possibly I would just burn the house down."

Ah, here's an interesting Post-It. Time to pick up film. Dated for tomorrow.

Jaakobah says "Burning the house down, I assure you, would be pretty goddamn stupid."

Jaakobah keeps that note. He'll make sure to pick up that film.

Anaharath grinds her teeth. "Indeed." She spins on her heel and heads for the kitchen, her lighter for illumination.

Jaakobah trails behind the Emotionful one, umbrella and flashlight in hand.

The kitchen vaguely resembles Abdul's Discount House of Relics in Shal-Mari, except they actually are. Or talismans, at least.

Anaharath pauses to see if any of the talismans are potentially useful.

The floor helps one run, the back door helps one move quietly, the fridge - apparently helps organize itself, the sink is a relic of some unknown sort ...

Anaharath rummages in the drawers.

Something squeals off the road outside and crashes into the fence. It's a car. Its nose protrudes into the window's viewing area.

Jaakobah stops dead in his tracks.

In and Out of Mary Olson's House

Jimmy says "Alright. Now I'm pissed."

Anaharath looks out the window and sighs. "Great. Maybe they will go away." She continues to rummage, looking for duct tape and pliers. Or pliers and staples. Or anything useful, really.

Jaakobah hopes he hasn't been seen, and decides to wait this out in the bedroom closet. At least he has an umbrella to fight with.

Jimmy gets out of the car, banging his fist on the clawed hood.

Anaharath mostly ignores this, looking for repair materials by the glow of her lighter.

The Habbalite sees a little scuzzy guy get out of the car and bang on the hood, right next to the fence marks. Really deep wire-fenc ... hm. Actually, since the fence is wooden, Anaharath doesn't know what those are.

Anaharath refuses to care about that. If this person is a problem, she'll stuff his head into the rip. Or something.

Duct tape is found in a bottom drawer.

Anaharath pulls out duct tape. Now, she needs something besides her fingers to hold the rip together...

Jimmy starts looking up and down the street for a phone booth. Damn things are never around when you need them.

The Calabite sees that someone's moving around in the house, on the other side of a window, in the glow of a lighter; she has funky orangish tattoos.

No phone booth is obvious. Who is there to call, in Pleasant Valley?

Dark-winged shadows move in the distance, although none seem to be heading directly this way.

Jimmy squints at the window. "The fuck?"

Jimmy walks up to the house, sliding into Rena's vessel as sie does, clearing her throat just before she knocks on the door.

In the Closet

It is dark in the closet. Jake senses grues somewhere nearby.

Jaakobah just waits in the bedroom and listens. If this is more crazy bodyguard Malakim, maybe they'll do their business and take off.

The grues bide their time. Perhaps they are deliberating on the best seasonings for Balseraph.

Jaakobah turns on his flashlight.

The grues skitter back silently into the darkness.

A grue thinks about whether, if it blew really hard, if it could knock the flashlight away.

Jaakobah flashes the light of the flashlight around. Grues. Fuckin grues. I hate fuckin grues.

Jaakobah starts sneaking out of the closet, and stands near the bedroom doorway, listening.

In Mary Olson's House

Anaharath pauses. She sighs and goes to look out the peep-hole to see if this is someone to smite away, or someone to talk to.

Rena toys with a lock of reddish hair as she waits in front of the door, looking mildly clueless and nervous. There is no greasy Italian man to be seen.

She also has this incredibly complex black mark on her head, and not the same as Jaakobah's.

There's something else about her, besides the mark, but Anaharath can't place it. Maybe it's just suspicion about her and her scuzzy date.

Anaharath will open the door, the duct-tape an unwieldy bracelet on the wrist that currently holds the lighter.

Anaharath squints. Hmph.

Rena smiles, cheerful and friendly. "Hi!"

Anaharath smiles thinly. "Come in. She's missing. We need to fix her bed."

Rena blinks. "I beg your pardon? I was just hoping to borrow your directory."

Rena gestures back to the car. "My boyfriend went looking for a wrecker."

The woman inside, flaming tattoos and all, also has a black and complex mark on her head.

Anaharath snorts. "You are one of the Chosen. It's plain. Come in."

Rena squints at Anaharath's forehead. "This is Mary Olsen's house?"

Anaharath grinds her teeth. "You didn't know?" She relaxes, very deliberately. "Still. You are here. The hand of God is subtle."

Rena drops the nice act, and barges on in. "I was hoping to find her telephone number. Where is she?"

Anaharath turns on her heel and stalks back to the kitchen. "We don't know. She is not here. However, I strongly suspect that an Archangel was."

Rena tromps through the house, occasionally running her hand through her hair. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Got a cigarette?"

Anaharath takes out a cigarette pack from her jacket and waves it in Rena's direction, as she continues the Search For Pliers.

Pliers are discovered!

They're sitting on top of the fridge, evidently close enough to the magic to become a minor arctic tundra survival talisman.

Rena takes the cigarette and lights it from the stove burner, assuming it's gas. When in the South, do as the white trash do. "So how long has she been gone? We've got eleven days."

Anaharath says, "I don't know how long she's been gone. I'd like to." She takes the pliers and heads for the bedroom.

Jaakobah realizes that they are not - much to his dismay - going to kill each other. He stands in the hallway, outside the bedroom. Right in Ana's way - but this is not by design. He is merely Funny.

Rena follows, looking around as she smokes. Talk about mayhem.

Rena looks up at Jaakobah. "Who the fuck are you?"

The Balseraph notices that, in order: a) the new woman is pretty, b) she has a mark on her forehead, and c) she's wearing some of Mary Olson's clothing.

Jaakobah says "I'm Jake. Jake Stevens. Why are you wearing some of Mary Olson's clothing?"

Anaharath clicks off her lighter, takes Jake's flashlight, and heads for the bed.

Jaakobah says "Hey, give me back my flashlight."

Anaharath says, "I need both hands to fix the bed, since you don't want to assist."

Jaakobah follows Ana back into the bedroom.

Jaakobah says "I don't know why you are eager to fix that thing."

Anaharath looks at Jake calmly. "Do you want it to continue sucking air in until the Earth's atmosphere is depleted?"

Anaharath adds, "And do you want to chance something coming out?"

Jaakobah says "Actually, that would be pretty Funny. All life on earth extinguished due to a rip in someone's mattress. So that's a big Yes."

Rena looks into the bedroom without entering. "What happened here? Shag night?"

Jaakobah says "On the other hand, if something wanted to come out, I think it wouldn't be intimidated by your duct tape."

Anaharath mutters something about 'ahead of schedule' in answer to Rena.

Well, that gets Rena's attention. "Ahead of schedule?!? WHAT was ahead of schedule?"

Anaharath says, "I will feel better when it's not whistling at me." She sits down, arranges the flashlight, and begins to close the rip with pliers so she can duct-tape it.

The bed is safely duct-taped.

Well, at least the Habbalite is happy. Jake turns to Rena. "She is referring to, in that straightforward, positive way of putting things, to the conception of the Messiah."

Anaharath says, distractedly to the red-haired wench, "I would not be surprised if God chose one of the Bright Ones as His avatar for the conception. I would not be surprised if it were immaculate, either."

Rena looks around for something to break. Oh, that alarm clock looks vulnerable. Faboosh!

The pressure differential only dimples the tape a tiny bit.

Jaakobah jumps a bit. Oh joy. Happy Ms. Angel and a Calabite. Well, at least the Calabite is straight forward.

Anaharath spins, snarling. "You will not desecrate the house of the Chosen Mother!"

The flashlight goes out.

Jaakobah looks at the flashlight with the look of a man who has just noticed that his boat has a leak, he has no life preservers, but he's in the middle of the North Atlantic anyway.

Anaharath takes out her lighter and tries flicking it on.

The room is illumined by the tiniest of flames.

Rena drags on her cigarette, and stalks out of the house.

Anaharath says "Perhaps the batteries were dead..."

There's a little crunch, like a needle driven through ice.

Anaharath pokes her toe into some of the clothing, hoping for a nice useful relic.

Jaakobah follows Rena out of the house. There isn't much else to say.

The clothing includes many fine Artistry talismans, resizes to fit any shape, avoids muss, changes color randomly, and has cool special powers. For example, the boots can sneak up behind people and kick the, all on their own.

Anaharath looks in the direction of the crunch.

Anaharath wants to know what went crunch.

Anaharath gathers up the boots while looking, though. Funny, the tall man said. Heh.

The crunch appears to have been the air pressure popping a small hole in the thoroughly and utterly years-in-the-far-north frozen tape.

Jaakobah says something, though. "Hey."

Rena says "What?"

Jaakobah says "I think we're all in this together."

Anaharath sighs at the tape. Oh, well.

Rena says "No shit."

Anaharath goes through the rest of the house, looking for signs of Creation. Then she goes back to the bedroom and looks hopefully for birth-control pills.

The man's inside jacket pocket contains what must be several billion unused condoms, birth control pills, sponges, and the like. Anaharath doesn't quite understand how it can all fit and how she can look at it all at once, but there it is.

Anaharath suspects that none of these belonged to Mary. She prays that there is some reason why the schedule would be advanced 11 days. She checks Mary's bathroom and bedroom drawers.

Mary did not, apparently, believe in birth control.

Jaakobah says "She had an appointment to pick up some film tomorrow."

Rena says "Where?"

Jaakobah tells him where, from the post-it note.

Jaakobah says "That's the extent of my laurel branch."

Rena runs a hand through her hair, flicking the finished cigarette to the sidewalk and looking over at the car. "Great. Stuck in a town in the middle of Mississippi, my car trashed by Malakim, and it's entirely likely that I am going to spend the rest of my very long, quite measurable existence being passed between the two closest contenders for Head Honcho in the universe for their amusement. I shouldn't have stopped for the drink."

Anaharath . o O (Great.)

Anaharath squints at the jacket and checks the other pockets.

The Habbalite finds a large roll of blueprints, several saxophones, and a paintbrush in one pocket. Another contains several human families getting along with one another.

Jaakobah shrugs. "My Boss wants to be the Father of the Son of Man. Cut it anyway you want."

Rena says "Any idea what she (a thumb jerked back to the house) is after?"

Jaakobah says "I have no idea. But I do know that she's bound to be an unending source of constant amusement - that is, if she doesn't torch my truck in the mean time."

Rena says "Fire?"

Jaakobah says "She has already uttered 'The burning one' and 'God' in the same sentence. The tattoos are a bit of a tip off."

Rena rolls her eyes. "Lovely."

Anaharath folds up the jacket, tucks it under her arm, picks up the boots with her free hand, and goes looking for the other two.

The other two are outside talking. The Habbalite can tell that she's being discussed, and pick out bits here and there.

Anaharath stalks to about four feet behind this Jake, and sets down the boots. She gives them a nudge towards Jake.

Jaakobah turns around to Ana, and looks down at her. He's got that tall, thin thing going.

Anaharath looks up at Jake. She's got this curvy, tattooed thing going.

The boots sidle quietly off across the lawn in different directions, plotting to circle behind Jake.

Jaakobah sighs. "You couldn't have just left things where they were, could you? Oh no. You had to bring them out here."

Jaakobah promptly thinks positive thoughts. This involves a chipper shredder.

Anaharath asks, "So, how many people do you know who have these in their pockets?" She opens the pocket with the saxophone in it and shows Jake.

One boot, sensing that it's being discussed, ducks behind a tree. The other proceeds methodically around, around ...

Jaakobah says "Someone with a penchant for jazz?"

The boot, now behind Jake, begins to tip toe forward. Three feet ... two feet ...

Anaharath says, "Between this and the other pockets, I think that the Bright Lord of Creation has been here. He has, perhaps, taken Mary elsewhere. If he is the intended avatar of God's seed, then he is ahead of schedule."

The boot kicks Jake.

Rena facepalms.

Jaakobah says "OW! Shit. Son of a bitch!"

Anaharath maintains smouldering calm.

Anaharath . o O (Nice punishment. We'll do better later.)

The boot clatters down to the ground behind Jake.

Jaakobah glares down at the boot.

Rena quirks an eyebrow at the boot.

The other boot dives from the tree, while Jake's attention is on its partner, straight at the Balseraph's head!

Anaharath . o O (Strong boots.)

Jaakobah dodges the boot with a quick side-step.

The boot thonks into the ground beside Jake, thwarted.

Anaharath says, soothingly, "Enough, boots. We must find your master and the Chosen Mother."

Something in Jake's pocket sings, "Recharge boot reliquary?"

Jaakobah tells the pocket, "I don't THINK so."

Rena throws her hands up and looks towards Heaven. "I'd almost rather work with your people!"

Anaharath says to Rena, "You are. They just don't know it."

Jaakobah sighs, and turns to Rena. "Look, I'm sorry. My life is usually slightly more... sane. Well, saner then she is."

Anaharath gathers up the boots.

Anaharath shoots Jake a glare that promises much pain later.

Rena says "Right. You've failed, I've failed." She looks at Ana. "And you? Any deep hurting coming your way for a de facto failure?"

Anaharath says, "I will find Mary, and I will deliver her child. I will not fail God."

Anaharath says, "My Burning Lord has said that should I survive the judgment coming upon my Choir, nothing shall keep me from the Chosen Mother's side."

A tiny little bug, its stench rotten and its body faintly green, flutters past Anaharath's face.

Jaakobah says "She has it all sewn up, you see. All she has to do is do what God tells her, and zingo, she's out of the hot seat. Life is grand. I, on the other hand, get to spend the rest of the very short eternity in unending torment. Joy. A drink would be nice, but there are Malakim all over the booze."

Anaharath wrinkles her nose. "Let us lock up this house and go see if there are any clues to her whereabouts in her office."

Rena says "I know. One tore up my car."

Anaharath heads for her car, to deposit the boots and jacket in the trunk, while looking for the spare tire.

Jaakobah says "I had one who attached himself to me as a so-called bodyguard. He killed the Seneschal of the Tether I descended. And then I got a song of tongues which warned me off of all Tethers. There are Malakim in the Tethers, you see."

The spare tire is under the floor in the trunk, concealed but not very camoflaged by the panel over it.

Anaharath starts working on changing the tire that went flat when she showed up.

Huh. This must be what caused the blowout. Some kind of spiky bug. It's dead now, of course, squished. How wonderful a world, where such ugly things are squished! How warm and fuzzy it makes one feel.

Anaharath smiles happily. Squished buggy.

Anaharath murmurs, "It was weak."

Of course, the problem with changing the tire is that that would probably involve looking away from the perfectly squished bug, or even moving it, which might change the beautiful if somewhat flattened contours.

Rena says "Great. I was just sort of dropped up here from nineteen-seventy-nine."

Anaharath considers, slow and dreamy, the dilemma. She must find Mary. Her Burning Lord has commanded it. God Himself has commanded it.

Jaakobah says "You missed the 80's, which is a shame. It was a decade dedicated to greed and a complete lack of values."

Rena says "Hm. The rivers of coke and willing women were pretty appealing."

Jaakobah says "This was money and sex. And people were better dressed."

The Habbalite, momentarily, shakes the trance off.

Anaharath looks away from the bug long enough to take the bug to the trunk and put it in a pocket of That Jacket.

The Habbalite pricks her finger on one of the bug's spikes. It stings, but not worse than things she's done to herself for fun.

However, the bug does reach the jacket.

A car, its lights bright and its engine slow, glides slowly up the street.

Rena looks down at herself. "That might be why I'm wearing her clothes. Car."

Rena walks behind her wreck and crouches down to watch through the windows.

Anaharath goes back to changing her car's tire calmly. Nothing to see here.

Jaakobah walks in front of his truck and crouches down so that he's out of sight.

Rena reaches inside her jacket and fondles the non-space which can become Diplomacy.

The car slows to a stop outside the house, and the young woman inside studies the scene. A distortion in the air traces out a pattern on her forehead that would be a mark if it were actually ... there.

Anaharath pauses and squints at the woman. She gets up and heads for the woman's car.

The woman opens her door and climbs out.

Anaharath walks up to the woman, pausing some few feet away. "Hello?" she ventures, hoping it's Mary come home.

She is austere-seeming and black-haired, with a small ponytail and non-sunglasses glasses. She looks the Habbalite up and down, makes a slight face, and says, "Hello. Is there some sort of event?"

One hand gestures at the wide assortment of cars.

Anaharath says, "I had a flat. I'm not sure about the other cars. Might I ask your name? You seem familiar."

She says, "Marsha," and with a vague air of mechanical distraction withdraws a tape measure from her pocket. If uninterrupted, she holds it out a few feet before her, stretches it out, and proceeds to adjust the width carefully; the space is roughly two thirds the possible span of her arms.

She adds, "This is Mary Olson's house, correct?"

Anaharath edges away slightly, but permits this action. "Mary who?" she asks, perkily.

She pulls in the measure, flips it sideways, straightens it up again vertically. At a guess, this covers the width and height of the house, or possibly a large invisible rock between herself and Anaharath. "Olson. I have the package she requested."

Anaharath blinks. She sighs.

Anaharath says, "If it is, you can probably leave it on the back step or something. Do you know anything about fixing flat tires?"

The woman says, "I do. Do you have such a mechanical difficulty?"

Anaharath nods. "Yes. I seem to have run over something." She turns and heads back to the car to get out the bug and show it to the woman, while keeping her eyes carefully averted.

The woman follows, each step exactly the length of the one before.

Anaharath gets the bug, not looking at it, hopefully not pricking herself on it again, and holds it in front of the woman's eyes. "This was what did it."

The woman's eyes go blank and warm and fuzzy and full of love for all squished spiky snails. Then she turns, motions continuing to be precise, and kneels by the flat tire.

Anaharath blinks. Drat. What good is this thing. She puts it back in the jacket and edges around her car to see if she can indicate to one of these other people that getting into the woman's car might be a good idea.

The woman places her hand over the rip. Splook splook splook splook noises come from inside the tire as it slowly fills out again.

Anaharath pauses, then goes back to look at her. "Ah. How are you doing that?" she asks, somewhat shakily.

Her eyes slowly come out of their warm and fuzzy and full of love for squished spiky snails daze. Then she blinks, and looks down at her hand, and says, "It's all part of the service, ma'am."

Anaharath says "Part of the service?"

She nods, and withdraws her hand, the splooting noises ceasing. A faint shimmery coating seals the spike-hole shut. "We strive for the complete satisfaction of our customers and those around them."

Anaharath says, "Your customers?"

She hauls the ex-flat tire to its place and begins efficiently reattaching it. "Mary Olson, ma'am. As stated earlier."

Anaharath swallows. "Yes, Mary. And may I please ask who you are, that Mary is your... customer?"

She says, politely, "My name is Marsha, and I am a Bearer, representing at the moment the Completion of Things Project affiliated with the Lord Maker of Hell."

Jaakobah just blinks in his hiding spot.

Anaharath swallows again. "Oh. All right. I think you can deliver the package to me, then, as I will be seeking her out."

Rena beats her head against the car door.

She finishes reattaching the tire and stands. "Your pardon. To you?"

Anaharath says, with a straight face, "I'm her primary care provider."

Jaakobah . o O ( Bullshit. )

She says, "It is not my place to argue." She bows slightly to Anaharath. "It will take but a moment."

Anaharath . o O (Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.)

Anaharath adds, "Unless you can seek out her current location, that is."

Lines of soft golden light issue from the woman's feet, carving out an unswerving course across the grass, street, houses, and other things that cling to the ground; they split off branches at precise 90 degree angles, most of which descend directly into the Earth. Her hands, held slightly apart, begin to issue forth tiny, shimmery bubbles, which meet in the center and cling, one to another, merging not into a collection of bubbles or a single sphere but a complex shape of circles and hypercircles and clusters and even a few triangular lines. Little sparks begin descending from nearby power lines, despite the current lack of power, to whirl about the whole. The centers of her eyes have turned to cold and impassive metal.

Anaharath reminds herself that she is a Punishing Angel and is not going to show unworthy weakness, not when she is on the verge of fulfilling the purpose she was made for...

Anaharath stands and strives to keep a calm expression, instead of running screaming.

Spinning shapes take form in the spreading bubbles as they begin to wander out from the central structure, most of intricately carved circuitry, some planes of light, some busy and unreal things that disturb and frustrate the eye. Limber cables, bright and black and thin as a line of ink stretch and flex and break off from the edges.

Rena .oO ( We're doomed. )

Anaharath . o O (Whaaaaaaaa.)

Jaakobah .oO ( We're so doomed. )

Anaharath Stands. Her. Ground. (Really.)

The woman says, precisely, "That Mary Olson need not engage in sordid congress with the Lord of Hosts, and in answer to her prayers to that effect, I present you, Anaharath of Fire, with the Lord Vapula's Messiah." The lines of light are spreading. In the distance, as bright as lightning and as dark as a thunderstorm, a fire is scrawling towards you through the sky.

Anaharath narrows her eyes. "Excuse me?"

Jaakobah stays hidden, baby. He's just not coming out.

This does not, in fact, match what was described as Anaharath's mission.

Anaharath reaches into her jacket and fully intends to shoot this person.

A tendril gropes curiously towards Anaharath. Even from several feet away, it burns like a whip wound which was then salted, flayed, salted, burned, immersed in acid, and then spit upon by all Anaharath's old colleagues.

The first shot clips the woman, who bites her lip and rocks slightly. Good control. Probably a celestial.

The fire in the distance looms closer.

Anaharath . o O (Slaying false Messiahs is good.)

Another tendril, thin as the space between two quarks, curiously picks up Jaakobah's truck and turns it this way and that.

Eyes are taking shape in the center bubble as it continues to grow: bright and hot and absolutely mad.

Jaakobah starts backward away from his truck, as it starts to get tossed.

Rena seems to have a similar idea, and join Jaakobah in the better part of valor.

Anaharath snarls, "There shall be no false Messiah!"

Jaakobah starts walking around, toward Rena - the sanest person here, by far.

The Habbalite fires again.

Crunch! The woman's temple caves in as the bullet hammers home. Silver hooks spill out as she slumps, forming an intricate structure themselves; the creature's growth seems to have slowed, as if it is pulling itself out of her by main force.

One eye turns to look curiously towards Jake and Rena. Then it focuses, very intently on Rena. A voice murmurs, "Mary." It is very soft, very cold, and strangely pleased.

Jaakobah looks at Rena and thinks, in all it's glory, "Oh FUCK."

Rena says "I beg your pardon?"

The Habbalite fires again.

The creature turns as the bullet hits the origin of a cluster of tendrils, shredding several. With casual annoyance, it wraps one around Anaharath several times. This is agony as no Habbalite has ever felt. She is on the verge of passing out - a mere fraction of an instant later - when fire slams down from the sky like the hammer of Heaven and a voice known to Anaharath of old, each word singing with fire and ancient madness, shouts, "Judgment on the Mal'ak Habbalah is mine!"

Rena .oO ( Oh, fuck. )

And Gabriel's fire wraps around Anaharath and she is gone.

The creature studies Rena, and bobs in the air. Light whirls along the ground, golden and absolutely geometric. "It is a 95.9% probability," it says, agreeing with itself.

Rena says "No, really, you're wrong."

One of the lines of light splits into a tree of branching threads that carves Mary's house to pieces in an instant. "I shall exalt you," it says, with a pleased and bubbling madness. "My mother. You will be hung above the world for all to admire your glory that gave forth my own."

Rena reaches into her coat. "It's alright. Really. I'm just a witness."

Jaakobah decides that now is the time to check out. Maybe she was crazy and left her keys in the ignition. Maybe she left them on the seat. Maybe... maybe.... He checks out the ex-Habbalite's car.

The keys are in a small depression beside the gear shift.

Rena keeps backing away, waiting for Jake to finish whatever he's doing near the car.

A tendril casually tosses Jake's truck into the street, where, instead of breaking, it simply sticks, half-in and half-out of the ground.

Jaakobah grabs the keys and crawls into the car. He pulls the door shut and locks them. Then he jams the keys into the ignition.

The creature says, "DO NOT LIE. Lies are the tools of Satan. I shall have no Lords of Hell before me."

The creature drags more of its mass out of the Bearer.

The key fits in the ignition.

Jaakobah thinks, Come on, come on, turn over. Turn over goddamn you.

The car starts.

Rena, hand still in hir jacket, slides into his 'normal' vessel, and shakes his head. "You're mistaken."

Jaakobah jams the transmission in reverse and hits the gas.

The madness in the thing's eyes turns to absolute and utter fury.

Reno pulls out Diplomacy, and tries to put as much lead into the air as possible as he runs for the car's eventual destination.

The earth in Even Pleasanter, a development in Pleasant Valley, Mississippi, erupts skyward in a thousand fountains.

A thousand thousand fountains.

Stone and sand and grass and asphalt kicked skyward by golden lines sunk into the Earth.

Reno .oO ( Fuck. )

Jaakobah unlocks the passanger side door, and as he pulls out, he tries to open it. "Calabite, get in the FUCKING CAR."

Reno dives, baby!

Jaakobah slams the transmission to drive and floors the gas.

The Calabite reaches the car, but only barely; ever-shifting spouts of stone blasting into his stomach as he leapt did his Vessel no good whatsoever. The car itself has sprung a leak of some kind, and is handling poorly as it screeches off, battered from underneath, fountains of earth cutting off the view in front, the decreasing availability of actual ground making it a literal uphill battle.

Reno says "Gogogogogogogo!"

Jaakobah is chanting over and over again, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...."

Reno ejects the magazine from the gun, shoving a new one in and preparing to roll down the window.

Jaakobah drives. We gotta get away. Come on car. Drive. DRIVE.

Reno slips into the original greasy vessel, coughing heavily.

Jaakobah drives, baby.

The car slews wildly this way and that, dodging, among other things, collapsing houses and tumbling hydrants, racing and rocking far above the street on the jets of stone and asphalt that spray upwards from it. The edge of Even Pleasanter is in sight, which is a good thing, because black tendrils are weaving and dancing inside the rivers of rock bursting up from the earth, now, and their mere proximity hurts.

Jimmy says "Can we drive faster, please?"

Jaakobah says "No, we can't, dumbass."

Jaakobah tries to drive faster anyway.

The car rockets out into the area that's not being blown into space, falling about thirty feet at this point to land on a normal road.

Jimmy oof.

Crunch. Squeal.

Jaakobah oooofs.

The car's engine is making squerping noises, and it's hard to tell whether it's actually running or if it's just momentum and Essence keeping it going.

Jimmy looks back. Is the destruction still halting at a specific point?

Then the creature screams, and the sound slams the car sideways into a tree, and the engine is still. The creature doesn't seem to know where the two are, though.

Jimmy whispers, very quiet. "If I die, do me a favour? Spit in Yves' face for me if you get a chance."

The fountains are slowly dying away.

Jaakobah says, just as quietly, leaning over the driving wheel, "Sure."

The creature's golden glow is fading.

And, for a time, there is nothing but the sound of quiet rain, as pebbles and rocks and bits of house fall down, one by one, a little at a time, from the sky.

Jaakobah folds his arms over the top of the wheel and leans his forehead on them. Happy thoughts are long gone from his mind.

The rain has slowed to a trickle when Vapula's messiah cries, in a tone of utter and absolute terror, "Mother! Help me!"

Jaakobah lifts his head up and looks at the Calabite. "The car is dead."

Jimmy says "Par for the course."

Jaakobah says "What now?"

Jimmy leans his head back against the car seat. "What's her name became a cocktail weiner for Gabriel. The Bearer is so much meat. A whole subdivision of nice, upscale homes has been reduced to rubble. The cause of all this sounds like it is experiencing a rather painful dissolution. The car is dead. And my favorite suit is ruined."

Jaakobah says "Sorry about the suit, man."

Jimmy says "Do they even have lavender leisure suits in Mississipi?"

Jaakobah says "It is Mississippi, after all. I would think so."

Jimmy says "Oh good. I could also use a drink. Somewhere without Malakim."

Jaakobah says "We're going to have to walk."

Jimmy says "That's fine."

Jaakobah starts opening his door. If it will open.

Jimmy realizes he has been swapping bodies rather liberally, so uses the Box essence to slide Diplomacy back into its not-there state.

The door opens, albeit reluctantly.

Jaakobah is soon standing on the street.

A small light fixture falls out of the sky to land at Jaakobah's feet.

Jaakobah leans down and picks it up. He looks at it carefully, and then looks up at the sky from whence it came.

The sky is cloudy and miscellaneous things are falling out of it every couple of minutes.

A roll of duct tape lands not far down the road.

Jimmy fixes his hair the best he can, picks up the duct tape, and starts walking back downtown.

Jaakobah tosses the fixture and walks briskly to catch up with Jimmy. "The world has changed in 20 years."

Jimmy says "No shit."

Jaakobah doesn't have much of a followup comment to that.

Jimmy says "Sweet alcohol, always unchanging."

Jaakobah says "Somewhat."

Jaakobah says "Fuckin' low cal, LITE beer. Like it's not already dog piss."

Jimmy says "Beer? For God's sake, man."

Jaakobah says "Hard shit man, is neverchangin."

Jaakobah says "The world could be coming to an end, and Johnny Walker is still Johnny Walker."

Jimmy says "A man could base his life on that fact. A solid thing to hold on to in times like this."

Up ahead, on the road, there's a young man, sprawled out with a sliver of house imbedded in the side of his back. And blood, too. Not that demons would necessarily care; just, he's there, to help or kick or walk on or whatever.

Jaakobah decides to celebrate another weird sight with a cigarette.

Jaakobah says, while looking down on the dying young man, "Days like these make me wonder about my choice of occupation."

The dying man murmurs incoherently.

He seems to agree, however.

Jimmy looks down at the man, crouching. "Regretting comedy?" He leans over. "Hey. You. You have a reason to live?"

Jaakobah says "Fucking, I still had 20 payments left on that truck."

He mumbles something that sounds like, "Lisa." Or possibly "Lungfish."

Jimmy tilts his head. "Lisa? Is that your girl?"

The man makes a pained noise. Well, they're all pained noises.

He mutters, "Super."

Jaakobah looks... well, a bit bored. He smokes his cigarette while his brain snaps back out of "This demon shit sucks" back to "just think positive!"

The man sighs and begins to sing an old mining song about an anvil and a jellyfish. Very quietly.

Then he dies.

Jimmy smiles, standing up and taking a deep breath. "Poor girl. She'll be worried sick about him. God forbid they have children."

Jaakobah says "Sucks to be everyone."

Jimmy chuckles. "That's life. Now let's find that drink."