John
Monday 5/5/70 18:48:00

John is silently sitting in his desk-chair. His mind is calm, unarroused as he has just made a decission. He had been thinking feeverishly over the last minutes and they had fealt like hours, untill he had come up with what seemed like the least unbenifitable of a small selection of poor choices.

Is he going to set me up as a scapegoat? Lanier: "Don't worry - I want you on it precisely because you are so valuable - with you in charge, there'll be no need to make anyone expendable."

How did he get into this horrible situation? Lanier: "Well, John, I suppose you should save that strong advice for yourself ..." John: "I must however voice my concern and strongly advice against this course of action." Lanier: "... because you're going to personally oversee this operation. John: "I am your lawyer, not your Jhonson!" Lanier: "If you had resource adjustment capabilities combined with your legal accomplishments, there'd really be no limit to how high you could climb."

What was the NeoNET-Exec up to? Samantha Villiers: "Miles thinks you are absolutely the best at what you do. But he doesn't trust you. Says you're unreliable. But he's arrogant enough to think he can keep you on his leash." Was this a test? "Lanier: "Now's your chance to prove yourself." But what was he trying to test in Jhon? Loyalty, controllability, ruthlessness?

So, what would he do? Killing Dean with precision would mean giving up all hope for a happy ending. The case lost, RFS in ashes and John as good as dead. John wouldn´t accept that!
Not killing Dean by setting up the runners would have the same risk of exposure as the real deal, but even if it went well, there still was a chance of loosing the case - the worst of both sides. There was still the option of not killing dean, by simply not ordering the run, but the elf feard the consequences of disobeying Lanier so blatantly. So...
So he could order the hit and kill 4.000 people! Same chance of exposure, better chance of success. Could he kill 4.000 people? Men, women, children ... I am not killing them, I´m just paying the killers! He would order the death of 4.000 people! casualties of war... The consequences of his actions had lead people to die before. This was just a sad accumulation of casualties.

Since Kob had left the room, his mind had been jumping back and forth and forth and back at the same time, over and over again, but finaly his streams of conciousness had met. He takes in a deep breath, setting his mind to plan the execution of this highly stacked gamble, callously unconcerned with the lifes of thousends it will snuff out and many more it would ruin.
Fascination and plasure begin to well up, as he planes out the flow of funds and information meticulously, to minimize the risk of back-tracking.

Suddenly something else crosses his mind. An elusive smell, a faint sillhouette, the ring of a familiar voice. The sad face of a woman, most beloved and dear, her eyes welling up with tears. He can´t even stand the thought that she´d know of his deeds. He can´t think to see her with out telling. He could never face her again after this, not for what he thought about it, but for what he knew she would think. My soul and heart can never be lost, as long as you are here to hold them safe my dear!

Loosing his cousin, he fears more then death and devil and with the sparks of boldness a small flame of hope is lighted, as he re-considers to stand by his conviction -he still tought it was best for the operation- defying Lanier´s orders head on. Lanier: "Don't worry ... you'd be one of the LAST assets I'd throw away." Well, if it´s a test, it will show that Jhon is no mindless tool - Miles might even respect him for standing his man. Anyway, he is sure, the Exec knows that even if he can´t be cowed into being a mare lackay anymore, he is still too usefull for NeoNET, to make him expandable. The elf just hopes he will act accordingly.

Etain
Sunday 07/27/70 15:52:04

When her eyes had finally reopened it took Etain a number of minutes to cut through the disorientation hours upon hours of deep and uninterrupted sleep could cause. At first hazy memories of the previous 24 hours seemed like a dream, or more like a nightmare and she had almost convinced herself of that until she sat up in bed and looked around her room, the interior doors of her apartments still damaged from Conall’s entrance early that morning, everything had really happened. Her brother however, was nowhere to be seen. A moment of panic ripped through her as she worried just what Paddy may have done to him upon finding him in her rooms. Through the ruined doors she could still make out the familiar form of Anne sitting watch dutifully with a e-book beside her. As soon as she realized her charge was awake, she was in the bedroom tending to any of Etain’s needs with no mention of the morning’s earlier events. A thousand apologies spilled from Etain’s lips but she would hear none of them, her eyes however softened when the young woman had cleared the air between them. Anne did her best to try to restore some semblance of normalcy to Etain’s life as soon as possible, she laid out her clothes for the day, drew her a bath, tended to her hand and of course had Phillipe bring up “something light” for her to eat.

Once again it was explained clearly to Etain by one of Paddy’s men that she would not be allowed to leave her apartments and that for the sake of everyone involved that she should agree to the conditions and focus on taking care of herself. Anne confided in her after he had left that Conall too had been returned to his apartments across the house and was under much tighter control than she. Etain felt for her brother, even without their mental link she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was going stir crazy, with so much of his mentor spirit inside him being locked in his apartments and watched while under guard would make him feel like a caged animal. She was thankful they didn’t think of her to be as big of a risk with only Anne and one known guard watching her. When she glanced about the room on the Astral, it was clear that additional security measures had been added to assure she would not leave her rooms again.

She met later with the doctor once again for a quick checkup and it was then that she had made her decision on what to do about her finger. She wanted to be whole again, or as much as one could be after all the events so far. She made that very clear to the doctor while he checked for infection and got him to commit to starting the reconstruction process for her as soon as possible since she didn’t want to look at herself this way anymore.

Sunday 07/27/70 21:22:35

Hours had passed with little or nothing to do. The TriD held very little interest for her as it couldn’t even hold her attention for the duration of some of her favourite shows. She avoided the news programs at all costs even while a slight twinge of morbid curiosity wanted to know how events were being handled, or if they had even made the news yet. Or if they even would. She spent countless minutes seated before her vanity and standing before the mirror inspecting every tiny bit of bruising that had popped up while she slept, from the bruises across her cheeks to the black and blue marks around her upper arms where the imprint of fingers were clearly visible. She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her, reminded of the horrible things Patrick had done to her body. She put up and then dropped her physical mask spell over and over as she watched in the mirror, constantly removing all the physical evidence only to have it return when the spell dropped. She did this countless times until she started to become sick, a slight trickle of blood from her nose was what it took to make her finally stop. Another pale blue pill taken after a few hours more of self torture brought with it restless sleep and brief moments of peaceful calm when the dreams faded away.

Tuesday 07/29/70 05:13:51

Another sleepless night left her restless. The nightmares were back, while not as brutal nor as violent they were still enough to wake her throughout the night till she just gave up on trying to sleep. She laid in bed in the pre-dawn and looked out her window, through the ballistic glass at scenery just outside the window that felt like it was millions of miles away from her. She wanted desperately to forget everything that had happened, to take a page from her childhood playbook and get a “do over.” Knowing it wasn’t that simple anymore she did the next best thing. With all of her friends cut off from her and her brother locked up just as tightly as she was and Anne having already heard countless hours of her chatter, she laid in bed and closed her eyes, calling out to her mentor for help in soft-spoken words of Sperethiel.

It wasn’t long before she was rewarded with her mentor’s presence. A pale, ethereal woman in a flowing white dress and silver hair stood before her in the middle of her bedroom. Her presence was comforting to Etain, it was like wrapping up in a freshly laundered blanket right from the dryer.

You called for me my girl, and I have come. What is it you seek?

That single question opened the floodgates for Etain. She begged her mentor for her help, to find a way to ease the pain of all that had happened. Etain spent the next couple of hours talking with her mentor, finding solace and strength in the wise woman’s words. She reminded Etain that there was always a lesson to be learned within tragedy but it was her job to decipher the lesson and not have it handed to her. As they talked Moon Maiden opened her eyes to ways to change the things people remembered, to alter painful memories to be happier ones or if necessary the complete opposite. Her mentor made it clear that she had wished it wasn’t necessary to show Etain this gift, but she also couldn’t bear to see her go through so much pain all alone. Ultimately it would be up to Etain if she used her gift upon herself.

She idled away her time either practicing her new gift or begging either Anne or Phillipe to stay and talk with her as they were really her only contact outside of her mentor spirit. She could tell that she was gaining more sympathy from the house staff the longer they chose to stay and talk with her about innocent topics, doing their best to keep Etain’s mind on happier times and more positive thoughts.

When it came time to sleep she was quick to pop yet another little blue pill and drift off on her own, her last thoughts were of camping trips taken well out into the O’Neill’s lands with her brother and being out under the moonlight.

Wednesday 07/30/70 11:01:29

Etain took a break from her magical practice when there was a soft knock at her doors and Phillipe entered with a light lunch for her after delivering Anne her own meal in the antechamber. She thanked the chef for his efforts and had him leave it for her on a table. Before he could walk away she stopped him with a question.

“Phillipe, y’bring my brother his meals as well yes?”

“Of course Mistress, I do.”

“Is he ok? I mean will you do me a huge favour and deliver this to him? Please Phillipe I beg of ye, I just need this to get to him.” With that she withdrew a small piece of peach paper folded a few times to keep the message private but the black ink was visible. She quickly tucked it into a pocket on his chef’s coat so Anne could not see.

“I’m sorry Mistress, I cannot bring that for ye, yer Da would have my head. I’m sorry Etain.”

Her disappointment was apparent on her features and Phillipe struggled with his decision, but his job was more important right now than passing notes between the twins. He apologized for a good five more minutes before he left shaking his head back down to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the O’Neill patriarchs leaving Etain to her solitude and pacing.

Thursday 07/31/70 23:07:01

Loneliness had become overwhelming. Days of being locked away from those that she cared so deeply were taking their toll on the young Elven woman. There were only so many hours she could sleep, even with the aid of the pills. There were only so many TriDeo shows she could bring herself to watch before she wanted to tear her hair out. There was only so much practice she could do with her magical studies before she needed a break. She needed new stimuli to keep herself from going stir-crazy and her apartments no longer had anything “new” to keep her occupied. There was only so many places she could go within the suite, so many steps she could take in so many directions before she’d start wearing paths in her carpets.

Bringing herself to the bathroom, she once again was transfixed on her reflection in the mirror. The swelling was nearly gone, bruising starting to fade to sickly colours of yellow. She couldn’t hold back the tears that spilled from her eyes again as she hated her own reflection. She was about at the lowest point emotionally that she had been in her entire life, let alone since the incident. Her amber eyes pulled away from her reflection to look about the bathroom, resting on the bottle of pale blue pills.

Her hope was fading, she was all alone. Worthless to her family now that she was sullied, she had become someone no one would ever want amidst their social circles. Her career was likely over as once word got out about what happened no one would come to see her perform. She would likely be left with nothing. Her parents were keeping her from Conall for whatever reasons they had and it was killing her inside. Her breaths were shaky as a dangerous and dark thought took root in her mind. It took over rational thinking, clouded the thoughts of all that she truly did still have and filled it with an easy escape. If she couldn’t walk out her doors on her own accord and if there was nothing waiting for her on the other side…

A glass of water and a lone blue pill rolling across the sink-top from an upended bottle later, Etain sank down onto the floor and leaned up against the large bathtub to wait. She leaned her head back as the first tendrils of sleep started to wash over her. Soon she had dropped onto her side and her breathing became more labored as the potent pills took effect in her system. At least it wouldn’t be painful.

She was then outdoors, everything was in shades of grey and black and growing darker. A pale glow formed on the horizon and drew closer to where she stood. Her mentor had come to her again and she was none too pleased with the turn of events. She chided Etain for the coward’s choice to run away instead of learn and grow from the situation. She reminded Etain of all that she had to live for, how strong she really was and asked of her what would happen to her brother were she to give up completely like this, how would he deal with the loss of his twin. Moon Maiden continued to talk to her, to show her just how wrong her choice was to give up like this. She was inspiring in her words, showing Etain all that she could be if she just didn’t let go. The light stopped fading and instead hovered in a dusk-like state where colours started to slowly creep back into her vision.

Feels like the weight of the world,
Like God in heaven gave me a turn.
Don't cling to me, I swear I can't fix you.
Still in the dark, can you fix me?

Freefall, freefall, all through life.

If you love me, then let go of me.
I won't be held down by who I used to be.
She's nothing to me.

Feels like the weight of the world,
Like all my screaming has gone unheard.
And oh, I know you don't believe in me.
Safe in the dark, how can you see?

Freefall, freefall, all through life.

If you love me, then let go of me.
I won't be held down by who I used to be.

Interrupting the song that was repeating in her head was an incessant beeping, an alarm of sorts that distracted her attention away from her mentor. In her bedroom, her biomonitor was screaming for attention, Anne came immediately and then summoned the doctor in a fury of panic that sent one of Paddy’s men on high alert. The doctor was quickly dispatched to her rooms and was quick to pump her full of an agent to counter the effects of the sleeping pills. She came to on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor, the doctor hovering over her while Anne stood horrified in the doorway. The look of concern and fear on Anne’s face struck Etain to the core.

She mumbled apologies to Anne mixed with incoherent babbling about not telling anyone what she had done, especially her brother. She was just shushed lovingly and continued to be cared for by the doctor. She was not left alone from that minute on. She was moved back into her bedroom after she was given something to force her to throw up what was left of the pills in her stomach. Anne sat with her in the bed, stroking her hair and hugging her close until she had finally fallen back asleep.

Friday 08/01/70 17:32:22

The next day she had managed to make herself even more of a freak. Now not only was she a rape victim, but now she had the addition of being potentially suicidal hanging over her head. Through out the week she had asked to see her parents and they had not come, obviously too wrapped up in saving the family name to be bothered to check on their children. Funny thing was if they weren’t careful, there would be very little family left for them to worry about saving.

Etain glanced across the room to the sitting area where Anne had moved herself after the event and had remained perched all night and day. She smiled a soft and reassuring smile in her charge’s direction, ready to spring into action should Etain ask for anything. Anne had taken it upon herself to be a stand-in for Etain’s missing mother. She had watched the girl grow up into the woman she was becoming and couldn’t bear to see her like this and to be all alone.

Little did Etain know, but as she was sitting down to a dinner Phillpe had brought up just a few minutes earlier, he was across the house delivering a meal to Conall as well. While all of Conall’s favourites were present, there was another small addition that was unexpected. Wrapped within his set of silverware was a small slip of peach paper with impeccable handwriting. It was amazing what a little guilt could get a person to do.

Conall
Sunday 7/27/70 03:35:00

When Conall stepped out of his sister’s room, he felt a strange wave of shame wash over him. He could see on the faces of Paddy’s men that they felt betrayed… The child they had protected with their own lives had turned against them, and injured one of their own. The fact O’Leary was nowhere to be seen made Conall swallow hard. Eyes fixed on the carpeted floor, the young shaman simply walked next to Paddy’s astral form, not saying a single word until he was at the foot of his own door. All he simply did was slowly nod all through Paddy’s speech.

At least, he still had the man’s respect. Odds were, Paddy had probably planned for the whole thing to happen. He knew both twins very well, and keeping them apart like the O’Neill patriarch had requested was foolish. No matter what, they would find a way to connect.

Grabbing a hold of his door knob, the young elf stopped in his track, letting out a heavy sigh. He spoke without looking at Paddy.

“It’s alright Paddy. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I'm ready to pay the price.”

He finally looked up at him.

“But I won't allow them to hand over Etain."

His knuckles turned white over his clentched fists.

"Paddy... Don't let them sacrifice Etain for the good of the clan..."

Turning the handle of his own door, Conall stepped in, throwing one last thing over his shoulder.

"And tell O’Leary I’m sorry… It wasn’t something personal… I just had to make sure Etain was alright."

Closing the door behind him, Conall felt a burst of anger build back up inside him. He had miserably failed tonight… Twice. He hadn’t been able to stop Patrick. He hadn’t been able to take Etain from it all. And now he was a prisoner in his own room.

As he walked to his bed, the young shaman could start to feel the burden of the day fall heavily on his tired shoulders. He needed some rest… and knew very well he’d need the energy for the fights to come. Etain still wasn’t safe. He had to think of something.

What little sleep Conall got that night wasn’t restful.

Friday 08/01/70 17:32:22

The week was long and difficult. Restricted to the four walls of his own room, Conall was slowly starting to go mad from the isolation. Etain’s absence simply became more and more painful with each passing day. Each day, the room got smaller, the walls getting closer and closer. Each day, the air felt drier… stale. Like a caged animal, all the young shaman could do was turn in circles and growl. Both his hands were constantly bloodied from punching the bag so much. His body ached, constantly. Conall only found peace and calm during the brief moments he could bring himself to meditate and reach out to Wolf. His mentor had hinted that hope would soon come… but then again, the young shaman knew Wolf had a strange conception of time.

The week had almost passed, and all of Conall’s “escape attempts” had been easily foiled by Paddy’s men. The security net around him was so tight there wasn’t a thing he could do without them knowing about it. He was trapped. Hope was fading away… rapidly.

But a faint glimmer was lit back on Friday, when his isolation was broken was a small piece of paper.

Etain.

Reading the note over and over, Conall’s steel determination was lit back. When Philippe came back to pick up the empty tray, the little note had been replaced with a new one. His own text was even more to the point.

“Anything you want. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

John
Monday 5/5/70 23:59:59

John kicks back the last bit of his whiskey soure, as he waits for the seconds to roll by, staring at a picture of the young Countess of Snowdon. On the other side of the world, a Jhonson is aproaching his meeting with a Fixer.
Tu 06.05.70 00:00:00 Now that the stone was rolling, he dosn´t feel so self-asured anymore, disobaying Miles Lanier - missleading him, even.

After having a talk with his trusted circle of three - relaying his concern, that the upcomming weeks might be dangerous without many details - the lawyer had started to prepair his next actions. He had chosen his Jhonson carefully. Kalilou Cissé was reliable and professional - and he was willing, to subject to RFS´ demanding protokol. Cissé was using nano-disguiese programmed with the high-quality biometrical scan of Émil Fillon, that John had sucked off the Argus database among many others weeks ago, when he had been doing his research on eco-networks. Most important however, Cissé had accepted the carcerant-injection that will releas a dose of Laés into his system after his job is done - irrevertably errazing 12 to 6 hours of his memory.
Émil Fillon is a freelance reporter with ties to eco-circles, mostly bringing critical stories about the corps but also labor-unions at times, which he viewes as to much interested into the wellfare of their members as opposed to the environment.
The Johnson would now bee meeting with a Fixer called Hannis 'Plattfisch' Scholz in Hamburg, that would negotiate the engagement via VR with one of the three teams Lanier had proposed. But he wouldn´t actually deliver the orders, but negociate the fee for some vague project (though he would ask for the teams ability to i.e. organize a huge amount of explosives on short notice), then give them the drop-off data for the final instructions. It was complicated, but John appreciated his anonymety. That was why he normally did not employ the Matrix or Plattfisch -who had leaked information on a Johnson some times ago- but this time, he wanted to put a few drops of blood into the water. Not his own blood, of course! The task had been handed to Cissé via an independent courier, who had worked satisfactory for RFS before and recaived his orders via blind, physical drop-off.
This should hopefully be enough for Neonet to get word, that some eco-freak had hired team A, B or C for a last-minute run in the UCAS. This way the exact nature of the run would be obscured - delivered through a similar routin as the scenarios RFS had send to Lanier.

Conall
Saturday 8/2/70 23:45:00

A soft knock came at Conall's door.

Of course he wasn't asleep.

What am I supposed to do? I haven't even got a key!, he thought, and then he noticed something strange - those four pesky watchers were gone.

He tried the door, and it opened, revealing his mother and father. Padraig stood behind them, but the other guards were gone.

"Come with us, son," said his father. "A journey we must take. It's destination unknown. But as you are my blood I will fight for ye - the heir of Clan O'Neill will not go down quiet."

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:45:00

Sleeping fitfully, Etain was aroused by a tickling of her soul. So often these days when she slept and nightmared, she found her senses slipping between planes. Now, opening her eyes not only to the world but the the astral, she saw a firm but quiet disturbance in the ward that protected the inner walls of her chambers.
Challenged, she could see the amazing strength of the barrier that surrounded her, and knew it must be Cailleach's handiwork.
Whatever was nosing its way through was nothing if not patient, and persistent as well. The ward radiated energy from the point of contact as Etain watched in fascination - first yellows, then oranges, and finally reds as the intensity of the attack escalated. Finally, though the ward continued to strain at the intruder, something started to press its way through...

Conall
Saturday 8/2/70 23:47:00

Descending the broad, curved staircase that led down to the entry hall, walking behind his parents and in front of Padraig, Conall saw that the hall was lined with security guards decked out in their finest livery - though no less heavily armed than they'd been throughout this past week.

The moment the four of them had all placed their feet on the floor of the hall, there came the knock of the great clapper that hung on the outside of the massive oak doors.

As if of its own accord, the lighting of the hall dimmed, and the double-doors swung wide, granting entrance to a majestic centaur. He bore a huge, recurved bow and a leathern quiver gilt and embossed in green gems. He stepped gently onto the polished marble floor, came to a stop and announced, "I be Martini. I oversee the correctish workings of the Court. That there be no discordance, only reverentiality."

And the doors closed behind him.

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:47:00

Long and determined though the struggle had been, it was clear now that the intruder would soon pass the ward. Though the barrier, like some mystical membrane swirling with fiery autumn colors, still enveloped the interloper's form, concealing its nature, the attacker nonetheless had pushed well beyond the limits of the chamber, and would clearly soon break through the ward into Etain's solitary presence.

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:45:00

As she watched whatever was coming through the ward press on further mixed emotions of curiosity and fear rolled through her. She had been hoping that her message had reached Conall and it would have been him coming to her aid, but she knew Paddy’s magical strength and knew neither her nor her brother were a match to defeat it. She became more alert as she looked about her room as the intruder pressed further into her room, her sleepiness quickly faded as adrenaline started to course through her veins. Who or more importantly what was trying to enter her room at that very moment?

She noticed Anne was no longer in her rooms and she couldn’t see any sign of her waiting in the foyer of her apartments either. She moved out of her bed and as her feet touched the plush carpet she felt a chill run through her that struck deep to the core. What if she was still locked inside her apartments, how would she get away from whatever was coming through the ward if it meant her harm. What if it was the O’Donnell clan coming to seek retribution for what had happened to their son. She froze in place like a deer in the headlights as she stood transfixed on the ward and its inevitable failure.

Conall
Saturday 8/2/70 23:48:00

The centaur had scarce settled into a corner of the hall, framed in a large alcove of the ornate handcrafted woodwork that adorned all the rooms of the manor, when the clapper struck the great doors once more.

Again of their own accord, they opened - although this time the lights maintained their brilliance - only to be eclipsed in intensity by a flash of sheet lightning from without. The thunder that followed seconds later seemed to herald the entrance of Phineas O'Donnell, Clan Steward and father of the late Patrick O'Donnell. He was flanked by an elf woman, nude but for the fine velvety black fur that covered her form and the silver-worked straps and belts that held her astonishing array of weaponry. Here was the legendary Delphina, hereditary bodyguard to the O'Donnells, and enemy to Padraig Cailleach for reasons understood by no elf living. She walked as if on air.

Padraig Cailleach stepped forward to the center of the hall, and the advance of the O'Donnells was halted. "Do you renounce vendetta for the duration of these proceedings?" the old human inquired.

"Aye, and I do," came O'Donnell's reply, "Though it burns my liver to see that animal draw breath. I'll see his head roll before the night is through, though I pledge by my house and my name and the honor of both that it'll not be by the hand of me or mine, but by the Court's will...though I rue to my grave not breaking his neck within the fingers of my own flesh and bone."

Delphina stepped forward, though Cailleach retreated not at all. Her voice was like ten thousand sheets of silk whipping together in a blizzard. She looked at Liam O'Neill and demanded: "Do you renounce vendetta for the duration of these proceedings?"

Conall's father answered with a power and authority his son had never seen. "Aye, and I do. Though the degenerates of Clan O'Donnell shall see that neither law nor might will prevail over this House or its heirs."

In unison, Delphina and Cailleach intoned: "Vendetta is suspended."

And Martini pronounced, "Correctish."

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:48:00

And then he stood there before her, muscular chest bare, loins encased in the skins of beasts. His wrists were festooned with the fangs of something large, bound by rawhide thongs in a radial pattern and jutting outward from his arms. Around his neck was an amulet with three curliforms in bronze. He was dirty, and musky.

Virile.

His face was shrouded in a burlap hood, with scarely two holes for pits of blackness where there might be eyes, or might not. Because of the hood, she could not tell if the antlers were born of nature or artifice.

In one broken-nailed hand he bore a stick of dead wood that forked at the end, a simple gold plate in its crux.

The skin of his body bore intricate patterns of crudely worked scarrification.

Conall
Saturday 8/2/70 23:50:00

The centaur led the party into the study.

All that remained of the room of Conall's boyhood and youth were the high walls lined with ancient books of knowledge. The rich Persian rugs had been removed, leaving bare stone floor, upon which had been etched - recently or anciently he could not say - an intricate circle beyond the complexity of anything he had encountered in his studies.

The floor was so cold he felt the chill through the soles of his boots.

Four antique chairs had been arranged within the circle three facing one. Conall sat in the center of the three, flanked by his parents, and faced by O'Donnell.

The bodyguards stood in the center of the circle, not quite blocking the views of the opposing clans. The human and the night one stared at one another unblinkingly.

Martini clopped into the circle.

Conall was beginning to see what was happening.

Padraig said: "We await the witching hour."

Martini said: "Correctish."

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:48:17

Etain couldn’t move, she could barely breathe. Fear clawed at her chest and tightened her throat. She had never seen anything like the male form that stood before her, but she had heard of the stories throughout her childhood and beyond. The scent that hung in the room was overwhelming, vile on the surface and strangely alluring in the most primal of ways. Her lips moved but no sound came out. She tried to take a step back but she couldn’t make her legs move. The nerves at the base of her spine were tingling, twitching in ways to alert her that something wasn’t right. Her eyes darted to the doors to her bedroom as she calculated the time it would take to cross the distance. It felt like the solid wood was miles away as opposed to the few feet it really was. She looked down to the floor before her with a slight bow of her head. Screwing up the courage she lifted her eyes back to the curliforms on his chest as she found her voice.

“What do you want with me?”

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:48:40

"The Truth."

Etain couldn't tell whether the being spoke words with a mouth of flesh from behind the mask, or if he spoke only to her soul. The words penetrated every corner of her soul in either case.

"The Seelie will not be mocked in its Justice by the petty rivalries of clans or elves or the sequestering of the victimized. Lies may be told but the Truth shall be known. I shall carry thy Testament to my Mistress. The Truth. All. Speak It."

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:48:52

She was stuck speechless for an instant as the gravity and seriousness of the situation hit her full force. She was torn, in fear of what her family would do should she tell the truth about what happened outweighed by the fear of what The Seelie Court would do should she lie to them directly. She closed her eyes as she trembled visibly with the fear, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to keep out the chill that was permeating the room.

“I shan’t dream of mocking The Court were it by my own choice, but exactly of which truth is it you wish to hear all of? The way one family seeks retribution against another for a foolish choice of their prodigal son and it’s consequences, or the way that prodigal son stripped a woman of all that means anything to her making her worthless in the eyes of her own family and the Danaan? Or would you like to hear the truth as some wish to have it told?”

She looked up into the messenger’s burlap-covered face as she sank back and took a seat on the edge of her bed as she waited for the answer.

Conall
Saturday 8/2/70 23:58:00

With all in readiness, the room fell into silence, filled with hatred. The only sound was the huge grandfather clock, ticking relentlessly away toward midnight.

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:49:23

"Verily, in the world of Flesh there are as many Truths as there are Eyes. It is for the Queen to decide which of these Truths shall bear the weight of Consequence. It is for you to tell the truth of your Eyes, and none other."

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:48:52

It pained her to retell and in the process relive the events of a week ago, but her parents be damned, she was not about to leave out any detail should it prove Patrick’s guilt and Conall’s relative innocence in the process of avenging and saving his sister. She started from the beginning, speaking the truth as she lived it, going all the way back to the concert on Midsummer’s Night in the presence of Lady Brane Deigh and her mother’s introduction of Patrick O’Donnell to her daughter and the whirlwind courtship that commenced.

She spoke of the trips all over Ireland, the spontaneous trip to Neo-Tokyo and the various dates and the way she was introduced to the O’Donnell’s. She left out no detail, intimate or otherwise about her thoughts or actions. She spoke of the way her interest in Patrick had created a rift between her and her brother and how her closeness with her brother had caused moodiness in Patrick.

She relived the excitement of the masquerade party before her emotions shifted when she started to speak about Fiona’s video and the truths it revealed to her at the party. Her tone shifted to one filled with anger and betrayal as she spoke about what was on the tape, how she was being “courted” as a pawn in a family power play and not for the righteous reasons of love.

When she got to the point in the story about how she left the party unescorted after discreetly telling Patrick just where he could shove his cheating, lying self, she had to stop. Her body trembled as she relived the moments leading up to the rape. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she tried desperately to keep her composure. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she called upon Moon Maiden for the strength to do what was right. She needed to tell the truth of what happened so there were no more secrets.

All her emotions came out when she began to speak of what happened in a Belfast alley to the first daughter of Clan O’Neill. The fear she felt when she realized that she was trapped between Patrick and two of his friends became real once again as her story continued. Her eyes showed her torment as she continued in detail about the way she was held down, the way her finger was cut off out of spite for the link she and her brother shared. She could feel the pain across her cheek as she described the way he hit her to keep her docile and under control. There was a long drawn out silence however before she could actually speak the words that terrified her the most, the words that described how Patrick stole her virginity from her as he had her in the alley and the way he was far too eager to share her with his friends.

She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer as they spilled from her eyes over cheeks that were pink with shame for something she had no control over, for something that was done to her. Once she regained a bit of her composure she couldn’t look the messenger in the face any longer as she continued, she was too ashamed now that the truth was out in the open. She admitted that the rest of what happened was a blur, but that her brother had come to rescue her. She didn’t dispute that her brother was responsible for the carnage in the alley, however she couldn’t say with any certainty what exactly he did to save her, only that it may have been brutal but it was understandable given the circumstances.

"I feared for my life, they would have left me there to die if not finishing me off themselves."

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:59:00

As Etain completed her tale, the messenger suddenly turned his head, glancing out the window. Still perceiving the astral, Etain followed his glance, but there was nothing.
No.
Something had flashed by outside her other window.
They stood watching for a few moments, the shattered young beauty and the masculine agent of the Seelie. Flashes became more frequent as it became clear that there were more and more spirits gathering outside the room.

"There are those that would hinder my delivery of thy Testament."

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:59:37

Etain felt a cold anger start to grow in the pit of her stomach as she watched outside the window. Her hands balled into tight fists and she began to clench her jaw. She wouldn’t let anything keep her story from being told, not this time.

“I won’t let myself be silenced anymore. Tell me how I can help assure you tell my story. If this is their idea of how to silence me, I’ll break these doors down myself and scream it from the rooftops. I’ll look Phineas O'Donnell in his eye and show him the dark and ugly side of his son if that’s what it takes.”

She was vehement with her words, her eyes having a darkened glint to them as her anger took hold. Perhaps she was walking down the right path of healing as the physical pain and emotional breakdown was giving way to pure anger.

Etain
Saturday 8/2/70 23:59:46

"When though from higher planes dispatched
The Messenger's sigil fails
When forces of order and chaos are matched
A mortal's courage may tip the scales."

The Seelie emissary took a step toward Etain.

"If help you would, two choices we have.
When once I rend this ward, it's master would come,
but with the witching hour he will be bound to another mission.
Then we shall take one path, to battle the foes unseen by earthly eyes,
Or I shall maintain this natural form and we shall flee by mortal means.
By the former road I shall lead, but by the latter thou shalt be the guide,
For I have been away from Earthly precincts for too long indeed.
Choose now, daughter of O'Neill, and may the Wheel guide your decision."

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 12:03:00

With everything set up, John had taken a good dose of sleep - well, he had sleapt much, but it hadn´t bean that good. His mind was tortured constantly by the possible outcomes of his gamble. At least he was feeling a bit more at ease, when he had shoved that Ace up his sleeve.
Cisse´ wouldn´t remember anything from his last night deal and the nano-disguise and datachip he had received would have auto-erazed as well, only leaving the certified credstick, that told him, that he had sold his mind again. If Plattfish had scanned Cissé´s voicepattern, it was as likely vor anyone to assume, that Fillon -who´s voice was in the public more often then that of a regular Jhonson- had used a secondary pattern, as it was likely that someone bothered to disquiese as a relatively unimportant medis-figure. John had only ever worked with one Jhonson, who could dublicate a voicepattern on short notice, but that one was much more costly and surely not willing to undergo the Laés-treatment.
DAMAGE would have been the perfect team for what Miles Lanier had in mind, John had hired them much against Novatech, back when he was working for the man, but the lawyer had other plans and they involved using a team, that NeoNET would keep an ear out for. Only he wasn´t hiering them for the proposed hit. The first message they had received only contained a new contact protokoll and decryption key -to be used in liu with one of those that had been transmitted by Plattfish- along with the order to wait for new instructions. Now he could use the team for almost any one operation he needed to be done in the next two days or so.
If everything went well and Lanier did not explode, he would put them to use, to get a hold of all the spicy tidbits in the mind of Dean´s father confessor. They´d probe and interrogate him, before whiping his mind magically and chemically and make it look like the retrograde short-term amnesia was caused by a car accident. If John needed to vanish quickly, however, he would have the team extract him - while faking his assassination, if permanent exile was needed. If anything unforseen came up, he could still create a new objective.

Etain
Saturday 08/02/70 23:59:53

Etain’s choice was made more by actions than words. She rose back to her feet and took her place beside the Seelie emissary as her skin started to take on an even paler shade and seemed to cast from it an ethereal glow. Her auburn locks shifted to strands of silver as her shamanic mask slipped into place.

“I will fight beside ye, until it may become time to run.” She wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of the situation as the spirits wouldn’t be so willing to rationalize with her as they were sent on a mission, but she would damn well try to take as many of them out before they had to run. She refused to stay silent any longer.

Conall
Sunday 8/3/70 00:00:00

The great clock chimed midnight, and the journey began.

A great wind blew up within the circle, pushing Conall and the other seated individuals back against their seats, while it whipped Cailleach's long gray hair and moustache about his head violently, and made the short fur covering Delphina's body ripple across her taut flesh like waves in a field of black wheat.

Without the circle, the books lining the walls were unaffected, the candles filling the room flickering peacefully, blissfully ignorant of the maelstrom in their midst.

The winds circled the group like a cyclone, until Conall was forced to wonder whether perhaps the air itself was perfectly calm, and it was they that were spinning around at some unnatural velocity....

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 14:25:00

The elven lawyer is leaning back, legs up, on a couch in his (comparatively) small, but comfortable apartment in the RFS headquaters of Boston´s financial district. He has no meetings, no work schadul for today -he had worked all weekend without sleeping after all- but he still dos not want to leave for his luxurious penthouse suite.
He has purposefully not following the football match on Sports Channel, as one never knows who´s watching. He had been continuously scanning for information on Lanier´s and NeoNET´s activeties on the Argus- and Infolio-databases since he was awake. In the mean time he is reading some british legal trade jornal´s to relax, but it is getting bland. So he desides to surf a bit through the intelligence archives, looking for back-stories to the latest headline news, new information on political and terrorist activities.
... postponed release of AGE´s 'Urbane Assault II' AR-Shooter due to matrix-raid on Silicon Valley software lab ... 9x9 network strikes against MCT chipfactory in Hong Kong ... series of drive-by shootings in East L.A. may intensifie into all-out drug-war between Bloods and Koshari ... orthodox patriarchs support plans for Yakut offensive ... unusual surge of CIA activity in the Maryland area may be related to unconfirmed reports of a nuclear threat ... OMI operative captured in Bismark ... mercenary massacer in Lisbon may be the result of spirit influence ... incident killing 13 technicians and 2 visitors on Obelisk space station belived to be sabotage ...
The smell of curry quickly reaches John, as Alice enters with a bunch of food bags obviously holding an assortment of indish dishes. With nothing new about Lanier and NeoNET, the lawyer turns his attention to his personal assistent. Putting the bags onto the bar, she aproaches the couch giving him the warmest of smiles.

Alice: "I thought you could use some food and company, you look stressed! Manolo and Kob will be here in 19 minutes."

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:32:33

It had been a delightful lunch with his three most trusted co-workers. They were good friends indeed. The Indian food cleared away, they had returned to their various concerns and duties only a few minutes earlier, leaving John alone with his thoughts once again - but not for long.

It seemed he'd been by himself for only a few moments when a large entourage entered his room, ten or so people striding in like a conquering army. Their number included two RFS board members, the firm's senior Matrix security specialist, and four uniformed security guards.

At their head was a smirking Kip Chalmers.

He stopped in front of John's expansive desk.

"John Fitzalan-Howard, on behalf of the board of directors of Rouis, Falcao & Smith, and by the authority vested in me as chief financial officer of same, and per the provisions of contract between same and NeoNET public corporation, specifically section 34, paragraph IV, sub-paragraph ©, effected in concert with section 23, paragraph II, sub-paragraph ©, as activated by the operative clause of section 312, paragraph LXXXVII, sub-paragraph (tt), I hereby relieve you of all offices, honors, representation, authority and stewardship hereunto held in same partnership."

Chalmers allowed himself a smile, and resumed speaking in a more natural tone of voice. "I have charged these guards with the task of removing you from the building, while making sure that you remove no property of the partnership. But before they carry out that task, you'll submit to an investigation of your headware in order to confirm that you are not carrying any proprietary files."

Conall
A Timeless Place

As suddenly as it had started, the gale ceased. Conall was still seated betwixt his parents, only now Cailleach was to their right, and beyond him stood the black elf, and beyond her was her master Phineas O'Donnell - all in a line they were arrayed before the throne of the Queen of the Seelie Court, which stood empty.

Lurking behind and around the throne, and creeping through the lush foliage above, and crawling about in the teeming grass and shrubbery around their feet, Conall wondered at the plethora of faerie folk and other fey creatures. From wee munchkins scurrying among the stems of oddly colored flowers, to a sylphie wallowing in a moonlit pool, to a huge fomorian towering over the throne, all were seething and billowing with mystical force.

Wondering at the sights around him, Conall could barely pay heed to the whispered words of his mother. "The head of the aggrieved Clan will act as his own prosecutor, and your father will stand for our defense. Expect not the laws of the world, or even of the Tir. For here the will of the Seelie is supreme, as it must be."

And then a hush fell over the assemblage, although Conall just was able to hear his father mutter, "Interloper" beneath his breath at the sight of the one who approached. Emerging from the most dense of the foliage was the Rian of the Court, the Lady Brane Deigh, clothed in naught but a flickering rainbow of light and a halo of stardust.

Ascending her throne, she wasted no time in commencing the proceedings.
"Conall O'Neill, you stand accused of murdering the first son of the leading house of the Danaan. It is no light thing. How will you plead?"

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:34:40

It could hardly be said, that John hadn´t expected treason from Chalmers -the paranoid expected betrayl from almost any ancle- but he has not reconed with him more then others. Of course there are a multitude of reasons. Fear, jellousy, power, money. True, RFS made a damn lot of money, but it was John´s policy, to have everyone in the company get a share of it. This was one of the reasons, not even a cleaning-woman had ever give away the tinyest bit of information to an outsider. It also meant that even though they where now making more money then they did ever before John´s arrival, some of RFS´ upper most echelons fealt they didn´t get what they should -or more accurately could- get.

34, IV, ( c )The Fitzalan-Howard returns the smile 23, II, ( c ) while he focusses and zomes in on the name signs on the matrix specialist´s and guard´s uniforms. 312, LXXXVII, (tt) A total reflection of the young CFO´s expression and answers after a slight pause. time, I need time

John: "Why don´t you help yourselves to some drinks an we discuss this grave matter in a civilized manner?"

I am a civilized man by blood and by deed. I spared the lifes of 4000 people! What have you ever done, rich kid? He gestures to the bar with his left hand. 23, II, ( c ) Leaning on his desk with his right, as he stands up. He is unopstrusively tapping the quickdial for a conference-conection to his trusted aids and at the same time, sucking all the files still in his desk at the moment into his glasses via skinlink. I can convince Miles that I am still too usefull. It is a slim chnace, that the desks memory isn´t locked yet, but it is a chance. But once I´m out of the main-entrance the game´s over. 312, LXXXVII, (tt) Even more unlikely, that the senior matrix security specialist wouldn´t block his conference-call, but that might at least redirect the the attention away from his other endeavor. Lanier won´t let me get freelance and turn against NeoNET again! 34, IV, ( c ). I need time!

Etain
Sunday 08/03/70 00:00:26

As soon as the messenger rendered the ward of her rooms useless, the astral version of her bedroom exploded to life. Air and fire spirits seemed to pour in from every crack and crevice in the room. They paid little attention to Etain, their objective quite clear as they swarmed the Seelie Messenger. As he valiantly began to fight the spirits a cold feeling of dread entered Etain’s heart as she suddenly felt she could not help him the way she promised. There were just so many of them! His prowess in astral combat was evident however, his movements, strikes and counterstrikes were fluid and almost graceful if you could detach yourself from the current reality.

Fear is only in our minds,
Taking over all the time.
Fear is only in our minds but it's taking over all the time.

You poor sweet innocent thing.
Dry your eyes and testify.

She stood transfixed as the spirits zoomed from one side to another, all trying to inflict the most damage to the messenger to keep him from telling Etain’s story. They were all so fast! The more she hesitated and watched the more she could see the way each moved and when a fire spirit took a predicted turn she pounced on the opportunity to send it back to its master in shreds. Perhaps it was from sheer will, from her desire to refuse to be kept silent any longer but the focus of her attention soon exploded into a shower of sparks and vanished. Her cause for celebration however was short-lived as she had now painted a glowing white target upon herself and she tried to steel herself against a pair of spirits took notice of her and decided to make her their current victim.

Her champion was quick to turn his attention on the encroaching fire spirit extinguishing it well before it could harm Etain. He was quickly forced to fight his own battle once again as the air spirit made its first attempt at harming the Elven shaman. She wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to deny the air spirit its desired results. It felt as if the spirit flew through her, wrapping it’s form tightly around her and stealing her very breath. She felt as if she had a two ton weight upon her chest and the loss of breath sent her coughing as the air spirit completed its attack. But it was hardly done with her. Seeing how she was even more vulnerable it struck again with blinding speed and ruthless intensity.

She was dropped to her knees like a ragdoll, pain tearing through every inch of her as she was brutally reminded why she wasn’t a fighter and why she so often abhorred it. She was hurt badly, there was no denying that now. She knew if she stayed in place and just gave in it was all over. The spirits wouldn’t stop until their mission was completed which meant destroying her and the Seelie messenger. She fought for each breath as she called to the fighter across from her with what strength she had left.

“Through the door… in physical form… I can’t help much more now…”

She hoped it was enough. She prayed the door would be unlocked as she slowly started a crawl towards it. Her view of the astral shimmered slightly as she tried to move to what she hoped would be safety beyond the door as she tried to protect herself from what she feared might be many attacks to come.

I dream in darkness
I sleep to die,
Erase the silence,
Erase my life,
Our burning ashes
Blacken the day,
A world of nothingness,
Blow me away.

Etain
Sunday 8/3/70 00:00:29

As Etain struggled towards the door, it opened. A uniformed member of the house security team stood there. Viewing the astral herself, Etain saw him shift his own perception, at which his eyes went wide as saucers, and he wasted no time in moving to stand over his fallen mistress, reaching for an ornate dagger at his side.
Her jailer had become her rescuer, although as Etain's assailant redirected its attention to him, she wondered if he would be any more than a victim.
Beyond them, the Messenger fought ferociously, but it was clear he could not long stand against such numbers.

John
Tuesday 6/5/70 17:34:20

The tension in the room had become palpable, but it had all been imported by the phalanx of executives, technicians and guards, and it was dashed to a million pieces by John's superhumanly calm offer of a drink. Although Chalmers obviously wanted to blitz things through in a rapid and no-nonsense manner, a couple of the board members were apparently not as afraid of John, and cordially accepted his offer.
"Don't mind if I do, Johnny boy. Make mine Scotch-tonic."
"Dry martini," answered another, settling into one of the big leather chairs.

The acquiescence of the older men left the newly hired guards confused as to whose lead they should follow, stopping them in their tracks.

As John casually stepped over to the bar, Chalmers stood in the middle of the expansive office seething. "Gentlemen, there's no time for this. Our directive is clear, and we are not here to chew the fat, as it were."

"Oh relax, Kippy."
"He's always been that way, ever since he was a child."
"Listen, son, you'll find that a modicum of civility goes a long way in these matters - an unwritten truth that you'll be glad of if you ever find yourself on the other side of one of these things. In any case, we've already isolated the office."

He was right about that, thought John, as he mixed the drinks. His desk comm had been cut off, and his headcomm was being jammed. At least they hadn't locked the files in his desk's memory - he'd uploaded everything he'd wanted in the time it took him to offer the drinks.

As he set the glasses on a tray, the various underlings stood near the door, decidedly uncomfortable, and entirely ignored by Chalmers and the board members.

John took his sweet time with the drinks - it added to his veneer of calm, and gave him a chance to read the other players. Simultaneously - in some sort of preternatural display of mental agility - he read and carefully interpreted the citations Chalmers had listed. He was finished by the time he served the old men their drinks.

He had obviously underestimated Chalmers - or whoever handled him. And part of him was delightfully impressed. Miles Lanier was a man who could wield a blunt instrument - like a fuel-air explosive in a stadium full of teenagers - just as easily as the most subtle of legal niceties - like the intricate combination of conditional triggers he had just found hidden in those parts of the contract written by Chalmers.
Obviously Lanier had felt he needed some sort of failsafe - a way to grab control if he ever felt he'd lost his grip on his brilliant elven attorney.

They were all three basically standard due diligence safeguards - a little stronger, perhaps, than usual, but when questioned Chalmers had told John they'd been necessary to win the NeoNET contract. And nuyen-symbols had flashed in John's eyes.

Everything was activated by 312, LXXXVII, (tt), which allowed an executive-level representative of a client organization to submit an affidavit of concern regarding due diligence to the leading counsel of RFS. This hadn't concerned John, since he himself was the leading counsel. What he now noticed was an innocent clause reading, "...or the chief financial officer if communication with leading counsel is impractical." Considering the communications facilities at his disposal, it was inconceivable that reaching him with such an affidavit would be impractical - even if he were unconscious in a hospital, he had made provisions for a DNI feed so that he could continue to direct the operation. But now he saw that a strong case for "impractical" could legally be made if the leading counsel himself were the source of the complaint.
Of course the requirements for such an affidavit were extensive - it could take even a well-staffed legal team weeks to complete the necessary protocols for a legally viable submission. Apparently this had been planned for a long time - always with the intention of using it? Or as a 'just in case' failsafe?
John couldn't imagine what the basis for such concerns might be, but then the affidavit itself was "receiver's eyes only." That was not in the original clause, but hidden thousands of pages away in 23, II, ©, where by themselves they had seemed harmless enough: the contents would only be revealed to the accused at the time of trial.
Under normal circumstances, John could fight this on grounds - he could keep his office until a trial, and then he would have access to the accusations and beat them point by point.
But then there was 34, IV,©: in the case of due diligence questions regarding any individual, all employees of RFS waived their pre-trial rights to company access and authority until the time of trial. John had passed off on this because he himself needed the legal means to insulate himself from treachery, and the checks and balances had appeared ironclad - such a waiver of rights requred the signatures of the representatives of a majority of all the firm's clients (but they'd dropped all their clients to go with NeoNET, so Lanier was the majority) and the signatures of two board members and the chief legal counsel, or, there it was again, if impractical, the CFO.
Thus, the three clauses together - along with the board members and Chalmers, apparently had legally airtight grounds to completely remove John from the firm and all offices therein. And they didn't have to show ANYONE the grounds, not even John himself.
Of course, John still had the right to take them to court, but all his rights to stay with the firm until the trial proved his guilt had been erased.

And he very much doubted anyone planned for there ever to be a trial.

A crusty old board member raised his glass to John. "Here's mud in your eye."

Conall
A Timeless Place

Conall’s body felt numb, just like his senses. His mind was disoriented, and a nervous knot had tied itself tight in his stomach. His mouth felt dry. His hands were hurting.

Nevertheless, Wolf was not one to show cowardice, in the face of anyone or anything. Conall could feel his metor close by, watching him from somewhere in the distance.

Hearing his name, the young shaman instinctively rose to his feet, standing at attention like he had been trained to. His eyes fixed straight ahead of him, locked in the empty space in front of him, the son of the O’Neill clan answered back what truth he believed in.

“I’m murdered no man. I brought justice to a monster. I gave back to clan O'Donnell some shred of decency. ”

Still not moving an inch, Conall golden eyes went slowly, hesistantly, to Lady Brane Deigh. Behind the veil of fright and uneasiness, a certain determination and pride still burned in the young man’s eyes.

What ever trials awaited him, he would face them head on with the certainty, at least to his own hearth, he had done the right thing. He had done his duty.

Etain
Sunday 08/03/70 00:00:32

She couldn’t afford to keep herself perceiving astrally if she wanted a hope to escape alive so she shifted her perception and returned to viewing the world on the physical plane. She pulled herself up with the help of the house guard and tried to keep her words short because time was precious and every gasp for air delivered shockwaves of pain to her body.

“Help him, under attack! He has a message!” To the guard it meant nothing but sounded like the confused ramblings of a terrified young woman who had just experienced a swarm of spirits.

Determined to not let the Messenger down and let the O’Donnell’s win, she tried right then and there to summon spirits of her own as she called on the mana around her and whispered to the wind. When it was instantly apparent that she had not succeeded defeat filled her mind with doubts to her abilities. As she glanced back to her room she could see the Messenger was down on a bended knee, still fighting valiantly against the spirits she could no longer view. His determination not to quit fueled her own, anger at yet another attempt to silence her was like adding gas to an open flame. As the guard beside her called in the magical attack over his comm and moved her to the foyer of her apartments where Anne cowered in the corner fear written all over her features. Etain wasted no time as she once again called to the winds.

She remembered the summer storms that rattled her windows, the vivid lightning and the deafening thunder. She remembered the disaster of a camping trip with Conall where the twins were nearly killed in the middle of a torrential storm, when the winds had destroyed their shelter and the lightning was fierce. She drew strength from that and she could feel mana building around her as she shaped it to her will, calling forth a strong Air spirit of her own to add to the fray.

The spirit swirled before her and she felt no worse for wear as she gave her instructions. Aid the Messenger by any means necessary and slow the spirits attacks. She gave no regard to herself and her own protection in her instructions.

It felt like an instant, but the house’s astral security arrived shortly after, the mage looking confused as his eyes moved from Etain’s guard to Etain to the chaos swirling inside her bedroom. Two of the mage’s own spirits hovered near by as he tried to get his bearings and information from the guard. Etain could tell time was running out, the Messenger didn’t have much longer to hold on before he would fail without help. His astral form was fading, losing coherence as he fought on.

She looked to the mage standing with her with pleading eyes and tried to urge him to help as she sent her first Air spirit on its tasks and prepared to summon as many more as she could manage in her condition.

“The Messenger, help him, under attack! He has a message to deliver to Lady Brane Deigh! GO!”

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:36:00

foxtrot - "...or the chief financial officer" - uniform - "receiver's eyes only." - charlie - there it was again, if impractical, the CFO - kilo

Well, the legal battle would be no problem, John had no doubt that he could rip apart any accusations brought up against him without breaking to sweat. His office at Harvard Law School would be a good enough base -he had enough dirt against any of the faculty, to make sure he wasn´t evicted of his position there- and should it be needed, he could even recruit dozends of studends and even graduates, that would jump on the oportunity to handle research and other supportive tasks for him free of financial compensation or at least without anything up front. In the end Kip would have to take the fall for his father´s friends - and old Chalmers, if he was even involved. He could probably invalidate the whole thing by demanding that all the RFS-employees receiving legal service from their mother corp counted as clients, too, making the signatures of many of them or their legal representative -which was him- necessary.
But, of course this is all irrelevant though, because he wouldn´t survive long.

The AR-instructions provided through his skinlink, by the mini-bar´s database rush over John´s glasses, guiding his hands to the correct flasks and bottles without the need to read any instructions, as he pours together gin with dry vermouth and scotch with tonic, exactly after the men´s personal preferences stored away in the cocktail-library. He prepairs a scotch with water for himself and a drink using another bottle of gin and a blended whiskey for Kip, just in case. Meanwhile, the older boardmembers are starting what he had intended to do himself, perfectly playing along his ruse.

Unlike the others, John spends at least an eyeblinck, to give the Senior Matrix Specialist a comforting smile, trying to take away from the awkwardness of the situation and win a bit of sympathy in turn.

John: "Stirred not mixed, James." Think´s his last name is Bond

He says with a smile, as he serves the Martini.

John: "Without ice."

He goes on, to hand over the Scotch-Tonic. He had used a special bottle of Scotch for this drink and his own. The bottle had been a present from RFS upon their first successfull work together, back when John had just started working for FUCHI. Thus he trys to simulate a stronger personal relationship, than it realy was and underline the long business relationship they shared. At the same time, he starts to isolate Kip, while on the surface he offers him another chance to participate.

John: "Won´t you join us, Kip! Seaboard, right?"

He offers the other elf a drink, according to his bar-library, young Chalmers used to consume in less polite company, but never in the other elf´s presence.

Etain
Sunday 08/03/70 00:00:35

As her air spirit headed full on into the fray Etain found herself holding what little breath she had as she waited to see if it had any effect in aiding the Messenger. The results were almost instantaneous as the fire and air spirits seemed to deem her own air spirit more of an immediate threat and nuisance than the Messenger and she could see his form regain some of its shape and intensity as he fought back.

She wasted no time calling the winds again for more help. By this time the house mage had made what little sense of the situation he could and his spirits had gotten their commands to join the fight and assist the Messenger. It seemed to make all the difference in the fight. As the air spirit materialized before Etain she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her as she wasn’t able to control the mana backlash of her request as well as she would have liked to. By the time she managed to get her head back in the game and send off her spirit, about all it could do was clean-up and keeping the last spirit or two in check before the were annihilated by the Messenger and the mage.

The fight was over and Etain hung her head. Not out of defeat but out of exhaustion and pain. Mere seconds had managed to take all the energy from her and leave her in bad physical shape. She found her way over to the couch in the foyer and sank down into it, the movement drawing forth another round of coughing and shooting pains through her chest. Her eyes however, they never left the bedroom or the Messenger.

“Is it all over?”

Conall
A Timeless Place

Looking up at the Queen of the Seelie Court, Conall saw a woman of unearthly beauty, with amber skin, incredibly fine fair hair, and eyes which seemed to shift from an almost trasnparent blue to a nearly luminous green. It was hard to imagine that she would now judge him...and perhaps pass sentence.

"You say you have murdered none, but three are dead - and you do not seem to deny that it was by your own hand. All were sons of the Danaan, tho it is with the O'Donnell that we are here concerned. What says the spokesman of that noble clan?"

Phineas O'Donnell stood and leveled an accusing finger at Conall. "More than killed my son, he did. There was scarce left to bury, the savage. Whatever my son did, it was nary worthy of death. Etain O'Neill still breathes, and so by rights should my flesh be breathing as well."

Liam O'Neill stood. "Aye, she breathes and with considerable less of herself than in a fortnight past. Your whelp professed his love, and then savagely beat her in an alley like an animal. He took a knife and maimed her while his pack of jackals held her down." The senior O'Neill's voice lowered to a pitch just barely audible over the hum of the surrounding enchanted wood - "And her skirts, they were torn. Her thighs bruised. Thank the saints our heir's arrival was timely as it was, for another minute gone by, and by my honor I'd have burnt your manor to the ground with you and yours in it."

O'Donell was clearly prepared with a reply: "Your groundless assumptions about what might have happened bear no weight in this court. Nor is the virtue of an O'Neill woman held in any esteem in the Tir in any case..." And at these words Liam O'Neill surged forward, only to be restrained by Padraig, while blades sang from Delphina's sheathes.

"MOST INCORRECTISH!" cried Martini, trotting between the delegations of the two houses.

The Lady Brane Deigh smiled ironically. "It's all right, Martini. The sons of Eire have never been masters of their temper, and if they should decide this issue between themselves right now, we would no longer be bothered by it. Still, gentlemen, let at least hear the facts ere you go to each other's throats."

Both men bowed stiffly. O'Donnell continued in a more subdued tone. "I grant you, my son acted ignobly. And in his cups, he was, so not responsible in the main for his deeds. Yet it must be said that he loved the daughter of O'Neill from the very depths of his heart, and it was that love that drove him to sever the cursed digit of the witch Etain. When he learned that even in their most private moments the ring she adorned it with was connecting her heart to her brother's - milady, I tell you his soul burned at the thought of what incestuous congress was implied. It haunted him day and night, until finally, as we see, it rendered him mad. But that deed done, he'd have no more harmed her than he would his own mother, for his madness was born of love. And since when does the justice of the Tir demand a life for a finger?"

As the elf spoke, a bare-chestd and hooded figure with the antlers of a stag emerged from the wood and whispered in the Queen's ear, prompting a wry smile to cross her features. But her next words were directed at Conall - "You have heard the defense - what say you? Is a finger worth a life?"

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:44:07

James: "Here's mud in your eye."

humorous toast - horse racing - 'be a good looser' - John 9,6-7 When the crusty old board member raises his glass to John, he almost chuckles, as the mini-bar´s toast-knowsoft fires associations into his brain. How fitting. He raises his glass in turn and replys with a congenial voice, but his words could easily be 'misunderstood' as a warning by those who payed attention.

John: "In deed! May we all be blessed with renewed sight - The Devil take the hindmost."

Here´s champagne for our real friends And real pain for our sham friends! He drains his glass almost half empty, exactly to the same extend as the other scotch-drinker and gesturing to him for a seat, sits down himself. Not putting his glas down, but turning it slowly in the fingers of his right hand, he focusses his gaze at Kip -still standing aside- again and addresses him with a jovial smile.

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:44:51

Kip Chalmers was more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. Here he was on the verge of his greatest victory - toppling the great John Fitzalan-Howard - and it was all going to shit as a bunch of aging farts wanted to play another round of "drink with the good old boys."
But Kip knew. He knew John was playing them for time while he tried something, something that was sure to be dangerous to his plans.
He reassured himself over and over that the preparations were airtight, that nothing could derail the plans he'd hatched with NeoNET. If he managed to convince himself, maybe he, too, could achieve the same casual nonchalance that John was managing as he chatted the old coots up.
He knew - he knew John was anything but calm.
But they both knew that appearance was everything, so he forced himself to smile and sat down with the older men, not accepting a drink.
He sat down and waited for whatever play John was going to make. It wouldn't matter. He had all night.

Etain
Sunday 8/3/70 00:00:40

The Messenger approached as the guards stepped back in awe.

Thank you. I will relay your testament, and news of your service and courage, to my Lady without fail.

And he was gone.

Etain
Sunday 08/03/70 00:00:43

The briefest of smiles crossed Etain’s lips as the Messenger confirmed her story would be told to Lady Brane Deigh, to the Seelie Courts. She only hoped it would be enough to save Conall from the harshest of retribution. The smile left her lips as the reality of the situation remained. She had survived an attack on her and the Messenger, but now the ward was down, she was hurt and Paddy undoubtedly now had his own hands full and would not be returning anytime soon to protect her.

As the Messenger disappeared she was left with a strange feeling of emptiness. In the briefest of minutes, she had gone through more with a stranger who gained her trust and admiration, than most people would experience in a lifetime. Silently she reached for her maid’s hand in reassurance and Anne slowly came from her hiding place in the corner of the foyer to join Etain with a gentle squeeze of her hand. She winced and groaned softly from pain as she moved to look at the security adept and the house mage.

“Thank ye Acott, MacCleary. Y’both did a wonderful thing and I promise it will not go unrewarded. I trust that security will be increased and I will not be left alone again or locked away until Paddy’s return?”

All that was left to do was wait. Even though she was in pain, she wanted desperately to walk through the house she hadn’t seen in a week, to see different scenery. She laughed darkly to herself more than anyone else as a fleeting image of her mother’s face telling her they’d never speak of what Patrick had done to her ever again crossed her mind.

Sorry Ma, but yer children’s lives should be more important to ye than the way yer looked at while yer out shopping or having yer hair done.

She said a silent prayer to the Lady Brigid for her brother’s safety and fair trial before she tried to rise back to her feet.

Etain
Sunday 8/3/70 00:02:00


“Thank ye Acott, MacCleary. Y’both did a wonderful thing and I promise it will not go unrewarded. I trust that security will be increased and I will not be left alone again or locked away until Paddy’s return?”

"Actually, mistress, it remains imperative that ye stay in your quarters, at least for the time being, for your own safety. Much is afoot tonight. And for that very reason, I fear we are all the guard ye shall have, although I assure you the manor is secure."

Etain
Sunday 8/3/70 00:02:32

Etain sighed heavily and chewed on her lip as she held back her sharp tongue. Sure, so secure that 15 or more spirits were just able to enter my rooms and I was locked inside. I feel so safe indeed.

"Then if I am not able to see the house, perhaps the house doctor can be sent up to see me I don't wish to be at a great disadvantage should those spirits decide to return."

She watched as the adept guard flinched slightly as he realized that perhaps he had failed his duties to keep Etain safe. The mage placed a quiet call on his commlink and nodded to Etain's request.

"He'll be up shortly. Is there anything else we can do for you miss?"

Etain shook her head and closed her eyes to wait for the Doctor's arrival. His arrival was swift and he poked and prodded her gently as he looked her over and declared that she was in need of lots of bedrest and sleep and was about to give Etain a sedative but she refused it immediately. The last thing she wanted was to sleep under the influence of another drug. She sighed heavily as she muttered softly to herself.

"How much longer will I have to be locked away, or wait up here. For the rest of my life?"

Etain
Sunday 8/3/70 00:15:00

"I'm sorry, mistress," replied the doctor as he closed his bag, "That is a matter to take up with your parents."

Etain
Sunday 08/03/70 00:15:13

“Believe me Doctor, were they capable of coming to check on me themselves instead of leaving me in the hands of their fine staff I would discuss the matter with them at length.” She grimaced as she tried to pull herself up from the couch to her feet. She placed her hand gently on the kind doctor’s own and shook her head.

“Forgive me Doctor, I fear my mouth has run away with me again.” She smiled softly but there was genuine hurt in her eyes. “Perhaps it is best if I take your advice and get comfortable in bed and watch something on the TriD till I can fall asleep.”

Once again she had been dismissed and handled with kid gloves. While inside her head she was screaming and raring to fight back, her body just wasn’t up to the task tonight. There would be plenty of time to argue later indeed.

Conall
A Timeless Place

Seeing his father’s burst of anger toward the head of the O’Donnell clan, Conall realized that after all, maybe he had a little more in common with his father than simply his last name. Truth be told, Conall felt ashamed. He had doubted his parents. His faith in them had been so little he had even blamed them for what had happened. A few hours ago, his whole being was convinced that his sister and himself would be sacrificed for the good of the clan… but what was now transpiring was completely different.

But the outburst of his father had also taken Conall aback for another reason. It wasn’t just his behavior that had struck him in a slight awe. It was also what he had said.

Doesn’t he know what happened?

Conall then came to realize something: none of them knew. They didn’t know the truth. Somewhere along the path, it had been lost.

"You have heard the defense - what say you? Is a finger worth a life?"

Conall’s eyes, which had been fixed on his father, slowly turned away to set themselves on Phineas O'Donnell. Gritting through his teeth, he spoke in a tone oozing with hatred.

“You should know, Lady Brane Deigh, that much more than a finger was taken from my sister.”

He turned his attention to the Queen of the Seelie Court, barely able not to shy away his eyes.

“Contrary to the belief held by my father… I did not get to my sister’s side in time.”

Conall
A Timeless Place

The young wolf shaman's pronouncement launched a ripple of rustle and murmur through the forest that enclosed them. Liam O'Neill turned questioningly to his wife. Phineas O'Donnell lost no time in denouncing Conall's testimony - "That is a damn bloody lie! Why, even the spokesman for Clan O'Neill himself contradicts this black account."

The Queen's stern gaze shifted to Liam O'Neill - "How do you answer this charge, so at variance with both your own case and that of your enemy?"

Liam seemed momentarily at a loss for words, but Caitriona O'Neill had a reply - "I spoke with the lass myself, immediately after the O'Donnell whelp's shameful assault. We spoke as only a mother and daughter can, and she assured me her maidenhood was intact. She was equally adamant that another few minutes and it would not have been."

Lady Brane Deigh turned to Conall. "Your voice is alone. All others seem to deny your account. What evidence can you offer?"

Conall
A Timeless Place

Conall's jaw began to twitch under the pressure. He truly did not care anymore what happened to him. What ever treatment the court decided to inflict upon him, even death, he would accept. The Seelie Court was wise and old enough to know and act in the just manner of things.

What the young shaman could not bear was the thought that Patrick O'Donnell and his goons would be painted as innocent victims. He would not stand his sister's honor and reputation being dragged in the dirt by anyone. Not even a house of Danaan.

"I can only offer my words...."

Conall paused for what seem to himself like eternity, his eyes going to his mother and father... before going back to the Lady of the Court.

"My words... and that of my sister's."

Conall
A Timeless Place

Phineas jumped on Conall's words - "Only what she told you?!? Well, she told her own mother something completely different, it seems. Perhaps knowing what a bloodthirsty monster you are, she told you what your frenzied mind wanted to hear!"

"An interesting theory, my dear Phineas," broke in the Lady of the Court, "But then, she also told the same tale of rape and virginity stolen to my faithful Messenger," she said, referring to the hooded one at her elbow. "And it seems, my very dear, dear Phineas, that someone tried to waylay my emissary in the commission of his duties."

Phineas O'Donnell: "I know nothing of any waylaying. But it seems to be that Your Majesty is being swayed in your judgment by hearsay. Three second-hand accounts - conflicting ones, I might add - but naryan eyewitness to this purported event. Now, only four people were actually there. Of these, three are dead to our planes, and the only one living has been sequestered from this proceeding at the request of her own Clan!
"And so, brought to grave need for the truth to be told once and for all, I would remind the court that there is one other way that an eyewitness to these events may be brought before us...."

He let his voice trail off - all those whose opinions mattered would know what he spoke of.

Conall overheard Padraig mutter under his breath - "Disturbin' of the deceased - a foul trick worthy of an O'Donnell."

The Lady Brane Deigh spoke next - "Under normal circumstances, this court would categorically deny such a dark and baneful request - it is not for us to torment those that have passed with our concerns. But since the supplicant is the deceased's own father - though the cruelty beggars the imagination, your Clan is your own, and I will allow it, but on one condition."
She turned to Conall - "I feel in my heart that what O'Donnell proposes will mean some danger for you, Conall O'Neill. What do you say - do you dare face him you accuse?"

Conall
A Timeless Place

Conall looked up at the Lady of the Court, speaking in the most confident of tones.

"I fear nothing milady." said the young shaman, his hands balling into clentched fists.

"If the Master of house O'Donnell wishes to bring back from the fires of Hell the damned soul of his bastard son, so be it. I will face him. " he added through his theet, eyes burning with hatered for the fellow clan.

John
Tuesday 5/6/70 17:46:30

John: "I know exactly why you are urging to rush this, boy. Whatever you have to bring up against me, we both know, that it won´t hold up in court."

10 years ago -probably even 10 months ago- John would be speechless and paralyzed at best and breaking down screaming at worst, in this situation. Since the first slug had smashed his shoulder, he had never been the same reckless, young lawyer. Since then, he had been paranoid and wary, always looking to controll the situation and have a plan for any possible evolvement. It had eaten up his soul and slowly disassambled his mind. Less then a decade later he had broken down. It had been a good year, before he could think of getting back to work again. But the Novatech councellor thought otherwise. John got shoved away into some out of the way office doing boring stuff like 'creative bookkeeping'. Greatly reduced responsibility and stress-levels, even further reduced payment and influence. He haden´t been content to get shoved away after burning the fat or his soul in the companie´s service, so he had left.
In the last decade, he had learned to evade stressfull social situations, by moving behind the scenes. Still he had tried to have a parachute for every possible fall - and some impossible ones. With him away from the spotlight and out of the shadowy back-streets, he had managed to keep his sanity, even as he became one of the most powerfull players in the east-coast law-scene and eventually abroad and back home in the kingdom as well.
The pace had changed dramatically over the last half year, however and it had threatened to kill his mind and soul. The stress of having multiple contingencies for every situation gone wrong, combined with the preasure of direct social interaction would have been too much normaly, but lately John had realized what he had done without thinking since he had left Novatech. There was no way to cover any possible event, the trick was to make any scenario that he himself couldn´t prevent too unfavourable for enough people in power, to make them prevent it.
Today will show if he managed to do so. His recording equipment is running in any case, to at least alow him a strike from the grave if he is to fail, he just dosn´t know yet, how to deliver this strike. Precautions for his untimely death aside, he needs to make his enemies rethink their steps and possibly undo them - a slim chance in deed, but the only chance at all! Even if he can only make them hasitate, at least his team might be abled to outrun theirs... 17:47:02 a good 4 hours and 13 minutes, before one information transfer agent would eraze the data in his care and another one would pass it on - a good 6 to 8 hours, before he expected to see any action from his runners, if they where realy as good as Lanier had asured him - much longer if they where not.
He continues in an arrogantly unconcerned tone, that would either help to intimidate Kip or at least incinerate his temper, making him prown to make mistakes. The boardmembers might reconsider their actions, too. If not they would think John to be boastfull and overconfident, which might make them underestimate him.

John: "The only thing that protects you from beeing crushed like the ice in that drink you´re not even calm enough to pick up without spilling is that you don´t have to show me anything by now! So your killers better be quick, Chalmers."

He makes a short pause for dramatic effect, fixing his drink for a moment, as he twists it slowly in his hand and his smile curles into a mischeivious smirk, just for a second. Lanier picked himself a great manchurian candidate. Smart enough, yet not too smart. Then his eyes are back on Kip, with a sideglance, while he ads a central question as if it was just an afterthought.

John: "Dos your father know, what you are dooing here?"

If old Chalmers is into this, he wouldn´t be so overtly, to save his back. If he wasn´t, all the better - atleast the remark should make Kip´s allies think twice.

John: "You know, my people will ask uncomfortable questions. Somebody will have to take the blame in the end - and they won´t be layed to rest by a pawn´s sacrifice! Are you ready to take the fall for Lanier? You could as well just pick up Mr. Davian´s handgun and put a bullet through my head right here and now!"

He offhandedly gestures to the one guard, least at ease with the situation at hand, as he names him personally. Noone would want that kind of mess. It would be hard enough, to explain to John´s friends and family, why RFS withdrew security from a major shareholder -with or without office and function- that was so endangered by retaliation from any given murderous eco-freak group at the moment. He leaves unmentioned the information timebombs, that would leak blackmail about quiet a lot of people in the event of his untimely dead. In fact, there wheren´t as many as he would now whish to be there -after all he wanted to leave something worthwile to his loved ones, if he ever was to go- but the boardmembers know how paranoid and intelligence-addicted John is.

John: "Speaking of security, what are you trying to insult by your demand of an intrusion into my intimacy by the capable Mr. Korthals - who no doubt would find any data I was to illigitimately remove from RFS with my headware?"

He just gives Korthals a casual nod, as he speaks. He dosn´t know the man very well, but Alice had always worked well with him. While he elaborates his rethorical question, he gives a glance, first to James, then to the other senior board member - each to the part that John thought would more likely appeal to them.

John: "My honor, by accusing me of unjustly taking any files with me? Or my intelligence, by assuming I wouldn´t have allready relocated any information I wanted to keep without authorization, if I had any such intentions?"

This was true, he had planty of data-deposits and system-backdoors. Some known and sanctioned by the board, some only known to him and Alice and some even unknown to her -he just loved the combination of programmers and laés. But it was also true, that in the event of his faked assassination, he wouldn´t use them very soon, if ever, out of fear for unvailing his escape. Same goes for files in his headware, he was just too paranoid of spy-ware.