The Star 36

Tia Beu 'of the Oklahoma Beus, not the Texas Beus' seemed to enjoy flexing her brain at Orison and answering Pete's silly questions than two relatively flattering offers to join other groups. No one, Pete included, enjoyed how many tried to recruit the bull of a young man. Unlike most others, his darker primary color didn't distract from the fact that he looked friendly and agreeable in his present company and an advantageous teammate.

No one might have a clear idea of what was going on but more sensitive people could feel a building hint of anxiety or anticipation. Once Orison started separating the auditory hallucinations from the weak mental signals he kept picking up, he started getting a better idea. He was certain he wasn't the only one with some telepathic strength but he figured out why those who could hear the little bits of leaked psychic communication weren't sharing.

In a hushed whisper, he confided, "Some weird kind of spirit essence is seeping in and jamming our junk. But, if you could look internally, you'd see something forming. It's called a logos, I guess. I've been playing with mine...

"I figure that we're being doused in lower concentrations of what'll be heavy and hard to deal with outside of our box. When it reaches a certain density, the logos should finish forming and we'll be able to draw it out. It seems to have a few natural abilities based off of the form it takes and it feels like it would be easy to merge it with our physical bodies for some interesting results I can only guess at for most, except Pete."

The young man looked at him with furrowed brows and said, "You can't even guess for me?"

Orison chuckled and said, "No, because I'm pretty sure I know. It's a bull and it's... tough. You merge, I'd bet armor with strength and stamina enhancements."

"Assuming you're not still a cracked kettle, does mine have a form that you can see?" Tia asked.

The young mage shrugged. "It's not settled yet. Got a lot of different witchy things and some librarian motif stuff going on, though. I'm afraid to say too much because I don't want to steer you wrong and mess your mojo up. But, I do get the impression a logos can be more than one thing.

"Spreading it out will weaken its individual expressions but might give more variety? I suppose sets could make a few different things that work well together. Sounds technical but doable... Pete, stop it. Seriously, why would you want to screw up natural? Whether it's many things or just one thing, clear equals strong. And your logos is practically in 1080p full HD."

A little upset, Pete said, "It sounds so plain and dumb. Maybe I'd like to be something a little more than the guy people call to help move fallen tree limbs off their car or duck behind when someone starts yelling and throwing things."

Looking Pete over again, he realized he was talking to a 'dark night of the soul' Pete. He was mentally and spiritually young. Not much different than Orison himself but not quite as well blended yet either.

He resisted the urge to sigh and looked at the young man gravely. "Simple and straightforward is not dumb. It's solid, It's stable and something you can depend on. But never, ever take your spirit beast at face value. It's more than just a symbol of an animal. It is the primal essence of all that animal stands for. And for you, your truest inner self.

"Such a guide, will make your path clear and help you 'clear your path' with wisdom or with violence, as you need. Such an inner ally will keep your mind and soul free of inner falsehoods and connect you to nature in a way others will never know because it is a unique understanding special only to your guide."

He would have said more but he felt someone exercising power. Looking for a source, he saw 'White and Gold' guy sending an invisible assault into a mid teen boy's spiritual seat. The intent was to cripple the formation of the kid's logos. Acting more on reflex than active thought, Orison sprinted at top speed while forming the meager amount of the strange spirit essence he'd collected.

Reaching out with an invisible arm, he grabbed the kid and pulled him across the floor til boy was behind him. Retracting and psionically sharpening that invisible arm, he severed the thread of intent 'White Gold' hadn't managed to retract yet. The entire gallery of folks became tense instantly at the angered shout drawn out by the minor psychic damage.

"You dare to attack me when I've done nothing to you!?" the blonde youth spat in righteous fury.

While the man implored his assembled group to defend themselves from a 'murderous' insane person, Orison shouted, "You dare to cripple an innocent child and play victim!?"

The man began a moving and charismatic speech cut violently short by an enraged roar.

Pete took in another deep breath and shouted, "I've known bullies like you. People think you're good because you believe you are, convince others you're above them, but you're rotten. No amount of pretty words makes your sh*t stink any less than everyone else's. If you don't shut your mouth, I hope you can speak with your a** because that's where your teeth will be after I knock them down your throat!"

"Do you hear this!? An insane person and a thug feel threatened by us and desire to weaken our group. We cannot allow this threat to stand because we dont know the challenges ahead. Let us cut the head off this snake before it can hide in the shadows. Do-" White Gold's words were cut off by a shrill scream.

As everyone turned to Tia in stunned confusion, she used the split second of silence to say, "Coward! Stop treating other people like puppets to fight your fight-"

White gold cut her off to spew more unfortunately stirring rhetoric. He didn't get far because Pete steam rolled through his cronies and bounced his head off the floor with a sick thump. There was a little blood coming from the back of the man's head but a whole lot coming from his face. A whimpering moan let people know he was still alive.

The 'light' group looked ready to pounce Pete but the young man was already walking away as he said, "I mean what I say. So, believe this too. The next person to open their mouth and threaten me or my friends isn't going to get off with a love tap."

Ultimately, they were all young. Most of the 'light' group hadn't been exposed to real world violence. Since peace was offered, in a manner of speaking, a large enough number were willing to take it. The ones ready to 'fight the good fight' weren't brave enough to do it with their small remaining amount.

As Orison gathered some of the logos essence to attempt mending the tear in the black suit boy's inner manifestation, he said, "Some of you have made some strange assumptions about what dark colors mean. But, let me ask you this, what happens when you add many colors together? It would be more accurate to say that 'light' equals privileged and happy lives while dark means a hard one filled with more suffering.

"Did you get to choose where you were born? Did you get to choose who your family is and how much they care for you? Stop this wild delusion you're under before you become the villains and the demons of this story."

He pointed a finger at the semi conscious young man and said in an eerie tone, "I condemn you to produce the visage of the prince of lies, the most beautiful and most corrupt angel. It's weapon shall be the golden tipped spear of false righteousness and shall bear the golden banner of vulgar wealth. You will bear pride in it, for that is the prince of lies' cardinal sin but all here shall know its meaning and revile you."

To top off his theatrics, he condensed and shotgun scattering of the logos essence, giving the unknowing a sickening feeling of invasion and chills. For the ones in the know, they wondered if it was possible for one to shape the inner manifestation of another. Since a good many on that side would produce celestial beings of one type or another, they would certainly view them more humbly. And most importantly, they would pay attention to the vague signs of patina on the gold guilt and snowy wings of their almost leader's logos with the gravity it deserved.

When they stepped back into their little section of the white room, Tia said, "Can you really shape someone else's logos, just like that?"

Orison said, "It would be much easier to cripple him like he tried to do this kid. I just painted his already mostly formed logos in the colors of my own truth like he and his buddies did all the dark suits...Time for a full disclosure.

"Most of you are normal peeps but about a dozen people here were dragged by me to wherever this place is from an afterlife battlefield. Seven celestial over there and four demons plus Pete. This guy is one of the demons but he was only a half. By guess, I'd say a cambion servitor. Probably some poor captain's adjunct, practically a... never mind the gruesome details.

"What you need to know is that most afterlife entities start off as humans who accumulate a large amount of good or bad karma... Don't give me that look. I know what I sound like but time will verify everything I've said."

He turned to Pete. "Here in just a bit, a huge amount of this free floating logos juice is going to splash down on us like busted plumbing. Little guy here and I are going to have a bit of an issue. Judging by how he looked at himself in horrified confusion but sudden mildly happy acceptance before all the suit color drama happened, he was a 'she' that touched the right person when I spit them out here. Neither of us are resistant enough to this stuff for our bodies not to get overcharged by it.

"Our patterns are going to loosen. I'm not asking for much but try to imagine us as at least physically fit when you touch us. We can't afford the time risk of asserting our own pattern when the deluge would be the perfect opportunity of a sink or swim style test. I'd ask you for myself, Tia, but you Like 'Two Direction' and 'Twilighting'. You like what you like but I really would have been a bit happier if you were a team J-wolf and not team Ed-pire."

Tia was a little surprised by the idea that some of their earlier crazy brain conversation actually had meaning and said, "Hey, there's some sport guys that I think are, you know. I can 'imagine' something with a little beef. I'm modern and liberated but that doesn't mean I can't see 'some' of the appeal in chauvinist masculine identity."

Orison said, "That might work for him but not me. And, I don't think making a person with life force feeding predator instincts more attractive to you specifically is a good idea. I have some extra to spare if the little guy gets needy and Pete can hold his own. But, it could really hurt you. Don't worry. For a half demon, he's got a pretty clean spiritual aura... for a half demon."

Pete chuckled. "You'd rather be an gym girl than a slim... Jim?"

"Until I can find workarounds for the power brown out? Yes. Although, it's only for a few days. I prefer 'me pattern' most of all. I spent a lot of time fine tuning it to have the best of most worlds," the young mage said.

He looked Orison over critically. "Most men don't think of 'pretty and almost delicate' as the best of most worlds."

Red eared, the young mage said, "It's about factors, damn it! Genetic stability and immuno-resistance is well balanced with rounded physical performance between age sixteen and eighteen. That's especially true since I can skip developmental requirements when I 'build' myself.

"Health and environment tolerance advantages are spread widely over gender and ethnic backgrounds. I might look like a post pubescent male cheerleader but I'm at Olympic competition baseline or better in every field save weight lifting. I'm well aware that a little over four hundred pounds without injury risk isn't that impressive to a person with strength focus. But, it is for a person who can sprint in the mid twenty miles per hour range and shimmy through an air vent or one of those ground level basement windows.

"I can half that weight and speed for a nearly all day performance. All of that and not a single non-human variance. It's the optimal baseline for adding things to boot. Whether supplements, enchantments or the odd tech enhancement; I can slap them on and know exactly how they'll affect me and adjust in a short amount of time.

"Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it! Better yet, don't. Smoking's bad m'kay."

Tia muttered, "Defensive doesn't even cover that level of insecurity."

"My memories of the past are pretty fuzzy but I think a cultivator would laugh at us and treat us all like little children," Pete said unhappily as the young mage shot a halfhearted glare at Tia.

Orison sighed. "Realms that support cultivation belong to cultivators. They are an all or nothing group. It may seem unbalanced on a personal level but on a cosmic one, it's fairly balanced. Besides, the reason why cultivators can trounce most supernaturals on home turf has more to do with familiarity of home laws than overwhelming personal power advantages.

Tia said, "I'm not saying I believe you entirely but... These cosmic farmers are better than everybody else?"

Finding the reference too funny to correct, the young mage replied, "Demons, devils and fey can adjust and compete pretty quickly. Dragons and a few other mythical creatures are the darlings of nearly all existence in totality. If magic users, as a group, didn't try so hard to find and apocalyptically exploit every loophole realities have, realities wouldn't crap on them so hardcore. Pure espers are too scattered across power scale from one to the next. Pure eldritch essence folks are...different, too different."

Tia threw her hands up in defeated mental overload.

Turning back to Pete who was in thoughtful contemplation, he added, "Besides, we're on the cusp of reaching a level where it doesn't matter AS much if you can lift a cabbage, car or an aircraft carrier. When they're not being suppressed by superior wills, which is almost everywhere we still want to be, tier fives can potentially summon cosmic forces, albeit on a small scale. Situational advantages start to flat-line pretty quick after that... mostly."

The small illumination into the big picture made Pete feel better but left Tia even more confused and curious. "As a point of reference, what 'tier' am I?"

Orison smiled. "That's the neat part about wherever we are and what's going on. When we first got here, I'm pretty sure you were only a tier two. Flat nose golden boy over there was a tier five before death by demon and re-humanizing clipped his wings. This special spirit essence we're being slowly smothered in has already spackled your supernatural holes to tier three. After your logos is finished setting and hardening, you're going to be a tier four with a limited but fairly complete set of laws.

"I don't really understand how it works but those granted understandings don't even interfere with personal comprehension. Any point where they meet resistance, they melt away and reform around it. For good AND ill. They part before flawed and unstable understanding just as readily as stable ones but clearly point out where the flaws are because the power flow of what it grants becomes fritzy there."

Pete chimed in while nodding. "It slaps a decent removable patch and makes us usable quick. The good and weather rotted tires will be noticeable right away... If this is a test of some kind, half of their work is done just getting us oiled up."

"I don't think it's so much a test as a-" the rest of Orison's words were cut off as a nearly unbearable spiritual essence pressure pushed them to the floor.

A dry, monotone voice filled with ancient apathy said, "The whys and hows that brought you here are irrelevant. A Greater Reality is dying which means the need for intermediaries between the material and afterlife realms are overwhelmed and require assistance. You are a batch of the green firewood we are throwing on that burning pile of problems to make it go away.

"Since watching you pop and crackle as you warm up to the task is the only real fun we'll have in all of this, there are no direct superiors to report to. There are only assignments, rewards for work completed and punishments for breaking rules or harming the fates of the charges you accept. If you sit and spin on your thumbs too long, the advanced payment you've received to aid you will be forcefully reclaimed."

The young mage and the stirring cambion partially dissolved into a soft glow of Caribbean blue and rich blossoms of pink streaked crimson mist as the voice droned on. Pete reached out a struggling hand to touch the two semi shapeless forms before focusing back in on the passionless entity's words.

"As agents of destiny, fate and chance hold great meaning to us. Groups and the mentors granted to guide and support you will be determined by the choices you have made during your limited amount of time prior to veil immersion. We respect free will but be aware that exercising it against the flow of events will carry consequences, as it always has."