Liber Street

The sound of sirens echoed down the street as the FDWC rushed to the scene with the Sarah Locheart in the lead truck, "Unload those hoses and hook them up!" She shouted as the trucks came to a stop in from of the building. The fire seemed to roar in rage as the Brave Fire Fighters rushed inside to search for anyone that may have been trapped. "Get those hoses on now!" Sarah barked as she placed her breathe mask on her face and picked up a hose rushing into the door with two other fire fighters. With the hoses on full blast aimed at the flames on the second floor the fire fighters that rushed in came back out with a hand full of people that were trapped on the second floor with Sarah, and the two the went in with her. "Focus on the first floor fire, once that's out the second floor will be easy!" she shouted again as every hose was on full blast and the fire seemed to roar again as he slowly started to die out. "Keep it up men!" Sarah seemed to smile as the fire started to die and soon it was nothing but smoldering embers and they could mop up those with Fire Extinguishers. "Another job well down boys!" Sarah said, smiling at her fire fighters, "lets go home now, We'll let the WCPD investigate this."

A Bentley pulled up to the curb outside of one of the most expensive jewelry stores in Wing City. The passenger side door opened and a well-dressed man stepped out. After glancing up and down the street for perceived threats, he opened the rear door, extending a hand to assist the passenger to exit the vehicle.

Anyone who had once known Ilyana Maric would no longer recognize the woman that stepped from the vehicle. Granted, physically, she was much the same woman. She carried herself differently. The grace with which she exited the car, the impeccable designer suit, the perfectly coiffed hair. Once upon a time, Ilyana Maric would not travel without her camera clutched in her hands. Now, it occupied the space at the bottom of a Hermes handbag that she carried nonchalantly over the crook in her elbow.

She entered the store without so much as a nod of thanks to her footman. Immediately, a simpering salesperson approached, mumbling some excited greetings, nervously indicating new acquisitions in a glass case. With a roll of her eyes and a bored flick of her hand, Ilyana turned her back on the salesman who found himself suddenly struck dumb. Try as he might, no sound escaped his lips. She proceeded to walk through the store, ignoring the presence of anyone else. If something caught her eye, she would simply reach down through the bullet-proof glass as if it was nothing more than air, pluck up the bauble that had interested her, and pull it out. Many of these, she replaced. A few, she tried on, admiring the effects of the sparkle against her skin. The owner stepped in from the back room and the simpering started again. With a pointed glare, Ilyana pressed her index finger to her lips and hissed quietly, shushing him. Like his salesman, he too fell silent despite the movement of his lips.

A ring slipped onto a manicured finger. A bracelet clasped over a delicate wrist. Large emerald tear-drop earrings sparkled as she moved.

Ilyana Maric was having a bad day. As such, shopping was in order... or at least, what she now considered shopping.

"Enjoying yourself?" came an all-too-familiar buzz. Ilyana would recognize it as the voice of Nealaphh, Chief Priest of Nyarlathotep and erstwhile mentor to the woman in question. The world seemed to grow pale and solemn as a black, glassy prism seemed to lower itself through the ceiling, an envelope of white brilliance sealing shut behind it. It glowed with a warm inner light of gold, and rotated slowly on its vertical axis. Ponderously, it floated over to where the Aspect stood, and through the most imperceptible of tilts, seemed to indicate that it was observing the wares before Ilyana.

"It is nice to see you embracing the ideal of Nyarlathotep. And I see that you have taken to practicing the gifts he has given you." Nealaphh hummed, his light fading from a warm gold to a sharpened acid-green.

"Now, however, at long last, he calls upon you. It has been some time, but I'm sure you remember Jules, yes?" Nealaphh said, spinning quickly and summoning a visage of the ghastly young man within his crystalline faces.

The first thought Ilyana had was minor annoyance at the interruption of her solitude. She'd very nearly attempted to silence the speaker until recognition dawned. Her attention, once focused on the brilliant sparkle of millions of individual facets on thousands of individual gems was turned to the prism, her mouth agape.

Today? There had been mostly silence in regard to Nyarlathotep since the gifts had been given. She hadn't even seen Jules, figuring that he'd heard what had happened and ran, fearing retribution. Now, after so much silence, Nealaphh was here, now, calling her forth? Today? Of all days?

Her mouth closed and she studied the prism, taking in the face of Jules once more, a strange surge of something rising up within herself. "I remember," she said simply. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she viewed the image before releasing a breath and turning back to the gems in the case in front of herself. "What is His wish?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with reverence as she spoke of Nyarlathotep.

"The Crawling Chaos wishes two things, first, that you understand certain goings on within the tides of reality. The second must wait until this first is explained." Nealaphh said, his deliberate enunciation echoing slightly off the black marble walls of the jewelry store. The hapless store-keep and standers-by seemed to be deadened, their eyes looking off into the distance, jaws slackened. They would remember nothing of this.

"Zeitgeist. The spirit of our times. Often cited as a mere thought-exercise regarding the trends and motives of a contemporary society. It does, however, provide convenient insight into the purpose and machinations of Nyarlathotep. The Howler's primary goal, among everything else, is to control the Zeitgeist. Not just what people think, but how they think. By suffusing elements of despair and discord into every-day life within this Multiverse, Nyarlathotep steadily undermines the mortals' misplaced faith in the ways of civilization and order." Nealaphh said, images of past wars, bloodshed, and decaying cities flashing within his facets. He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

"The irony in all of this, is that the Zeitgeist is in and of itself an ordered system. And like all other ordered systems, it falls into entropy over time. This is important to understand, because the structure of contemporary thought defines the limited possibilities through which Nyarlathotep can control a limited, mortal understanding of the cosmos. If, however, the Zeitgeist collapses, there will be no limitations on probability or possibility. Without a system to define what can and cannot happen, mortal thought will be able to start shaping reality much in the same way the thoughts of gods do. The difference, Ilyana, is that mortals are incapable of seeing the big picture, and furthermore, have a generally small amount of control over what they think. As such, once the collapse of the Zeitgeist comes to pass, every man will be a god, yet simultaneously a slave to their own racing whims." Nealaphh continued, grisly scenes now twisting and writhing within him. Scenes of bushes bursting into a flock of crows as burnt, emaciated husks of people shamble past, clutching at their heads. The clouds bled great and unknown colors onto the earth, melting it and causing a giant, infant hand to rise out of the oscillating quagmire.

"We call this even 'The Dreamer'. It is, in essence, complete and utter pervasive nonsense. A multiverse where only one continuing thought exists: 'No Reality'. Some people might assume that, being a god of chaos, Nyarlathotep desires this. But it is not so. Nyarlathotep requires systems to subvert and decay in order to be relevant. In this...this ideological apocalypse...no such thing would exist. But it can be stopped, if not post-poned, if people do not have the concept of it. If The Dreamer does not exist within the Zeitgeist, it cannot further corrupt it. Which is to say, that if people do not know that their mere thoughts can warp reality, then it will not be so." Nealaphh said, finally pausing his monologue. A moment passed.

"Ask questions, please."

Ilyana listened, her brows furrowing a few times as she struggled to understand, wondering at some times whether she was mentally translating correctly. She reached into the case in front of herself, pulling out a large topaz, twisting it in her fingers as she thought about what she was told.

"I believe I understand the concept," she said haltingly. "Without Zeitgeist, The Only loses Himself. Without Zeitgeist, without..." she waved her hand in the air, attempting to conjure the right word. "Without..." She gave up and skipped over the word she couldn't think of. "... is nothing..."

She nodded, indicating that she understood. "What does this have to do with Jules? With me?"

Nealaphh rotated once quickly in mild frustration. He had hoped Ilyana would be more receptive to metaphysical ideas with her newfound power over the cosmos. His color briefly flared to a dull orange before returning to a calm gold.

"Essentially. Yes." he said, his tone somewhat droll.

"Nyarlathotep believes that Jules is trying to infect the Zeitgeist with The Dreamer. You may not be aware, but Jules has shed himself of his devotion to Nyarlathotep for quite some time now, and now draws power from The Dreamer. We're not sure, however, why or how he is doing this." Nealaphh said, a map of the city appearing within his facets.

"Despite his abject hatred of you, we believe Jules lets his guard down when you're around and will unintentionally reveal his plans if goaded properly. As such, you are to seek him out and engage him in conversation. Find out his plans, and report back when you believe you understand. It may require multiple visits. We have time, but not an eternity, so haste is appreciated." Nealaphh droned. He rotated as if to regard the idling car outside of the jewelry store.

"I can send you to him, if you wish. But I would hate for you to waste the effort of such supplicant mortals. It is your decision."

Ilyana was silent for a long moment, moving away from the glass showcases. Every step she took across the marble floor echoed in the store. Passing the mute and still salesman, she reached out with one finger and pushed against his chest. He tilted back and fell stiffly against the floor as easily as if she had simply tipped over a chess piece. Perching on the arm of a leather chair in the middle of the room, Ilyana crossed her legs, staring down at the topaz in her hand as the turned the information over and over in her mind.

The news of Jules' betrayal disturbed her greatly. She couldn't organize her thoughts into a coherent stream of consciousness for the first time in a while. As she stared at the topaz, her lips pursed in thought, images flickered through her memory. Hell. The contorted face as he ripped into her in anger. A smouldering pile of ash that had once been a cat. The memory of pain, but not fear. The hatred behind his eyes. The sound of him in her head.

"This is unacceptable," she muttered to herself, her hand squeezing tightly around the topaz. Looking up to Nealaphh, she nodded resolutely. "I will go to him." She stood, smoke rising from her clenched fist. She stepped closer to Nealaphh, studying the map of the city. "I will go myself. He does not need to know that I've been sent." Orange liquid dripped from between her fingers as she lifted her lips in a wry grin. "He will fail."

This place is perfect, I killed some of my victims here

47

47

Janemba has arrived, coming from Main Street (Continued).

Janemba halts in his tracks, looking wide-eyed at the dirty street before him.

Ja?

he questions, asking no one in particular.

Janemba has left the area, heading out to Main Street (Continued).

Charles Lorian has arrived, coming from Main Street (Continued).

Charles Lorian has left the area, heading out into Main Street (Continued).