Crawling Chaos 3

When Neil shambled his aching body into the kitchen area that divided his personal and work space, he saw Orison sitting at the table. In the young mage's hands was one of the detective's old mathematics books from high school.

While he poured himself a fresh brewed cup of coffee from a percolator that looked newly bought but exactly the same as his old one, he caught bits and pieces of Orison's mumbling. "Trigonometry that ignores planetary curvature!? Where does the extra, unaccounted for space go? Two right triangles make an equilateral... How does a third one fit? Where did the extra space come from?... That would suggest that the teleportation I know is accomplished through accessing a fourth dimensional space from a second dimensional one... The reason the First Family's security and long term storage was so amazing came down to them using some method to access a time independent space. By merging exactly one-third of a three dimensional object into it, they created a false two dimensional object that can still be perceived as 3D and pretty much be 'timeless'.

"Objects whose surfaces were compatible with Pythagorean theorem were probably the only ones they could safely use. That's why so many things followed that design. The reason why I never noticed was because I was directly looking at the whole object while I was manipulating it and my sub-mind didn't want me blowing my brains out of the back of my head.

"I owe a huge apology to the entire mage community of Amoril for my arrogant assumptions of their intelligence. I can also see why even geniuses like the old man who built Construct Three hadn't been able to fully overcome the last hurdle to cracking Osomo. He and everyone who followed in his footsteps probably went fruit booty nuts or died trying!"

Checking out the bruises on his face against the shiny surface of the percolator , Neil said, "Yeah, I go a little crazy when I look at that thing too. Math was never one of my good subjects."

Snapping out of his musings, Orison continued flipping through the text book as he said, "Got a few things done this morning and bagged us some free brunch by introducing a local diner to the idea of breakfast sandwiches. No offense intended if it's not your thing but there's a choice left between bacon and egg or sausage egg and cheese."

Unrolling the paper bag Orison pointed at, Neil pulled out the contents and asked, ��Is both alright?... And what's in the paper cup?"

Orison shrugged and said, "Sure. I don't want them. Oh, that's gravy. I think it's a nice touch the lady at the diner came to herself but it's a bit overkill on the cholester-er, never mind."

Neil noticed the teenager cringe as he dipped the biscuit sandwich into the gravy. "Did she spit in it or something?"

Face sliding into a pleasant neutral, Orison said, "No, but enough about that. I've actually got a couple of important things to run by you before we either part ways or have things to do I'd rather not wait on getting done."

Neil blinked at him owlishly. "Look kid, I don't want to ruffle your feathers but I should probably be explaining things to your parents at this point. I owe you but the things you've seen and the doe you shelled out aren't just small potato... I don't know what you were doing there and if I have to gloss over a few details to make thing go a little easier on you with your folks, that's fine but-"

Sighing, Orison sat down the textbook, looked Neil in the eyes and said, "There are no 'folks', Detective Jones. I'm emancipated in any case. Feel free to check at the Department of Records. Therein lies my two largest concerns at the moment... Here in the glorious, river split a** cheeks of Port Haven, an emancipated minor needs an endorsement of two adults. On top of that, since I have a general education diploma, I'm expected to have gainful employment.

"Following the logic of 'better the devil I know', I spoke with your landlord and he was willing to endorse me as long as I stand in guarantee of your late and future rent for as long as I require said endorsement. He'll even let me do a little minor renovation to turn this floor's unused supply closet into a second bedroom attached to your suite. Wi-"

Wiping his face and attempting to hold back the grimace of pain that induced, Neil interrupted, "Now, hold on a hot minute. You're taking a lot of libert-"

Grim faced, Orison cut back in, "I'm taking nothing! I'm giving a whole lot for the sake of a little convenience... Let me spell out your current situation, what I need from you and what I'm offering in turn. If you don't like my offer then I move on, no more discussion necessary."

Neil slumped into the other chair and said, "Fire away but don't expect good news at the end."

Orison smirked. "As things stand, you have a good week of recovery left before you can even do your fringe work, three before you're ready for anything that will actually pay bills. You have two days before your phone gets turned off, four before your landlord evicts you and a snowball's chance in hell of getting the sixty dollars together necessary to stop that and keep the lights on. Add that the landlord is coming close to chucking you out even if you can somehow pull a 'Hail Mary', it's dark days all around.

"I need a second endorsement and a person who says they are employing me. That's it. The only actual interactions we need to have boil down to the very small amount of times I might need to use your kitchen, especially since your office has a toilet and sink I can use before or after hours. There might be one compulsory visit from children's services but I doubt that will even happen.

"In return, I catch up your bills. If the fact you can get out of bed at all today has impressed on you that I know my way around some unconventional medicine, I can get you back on your feet in a couple of days and ready for serious work in less than a week. If you agree, I'll give you a chance to change your mind in a week. After that, I'll prepay for three months and you can change your mind after one. Who knows, long before then, I might get fed up and leave of my own accord but I'll still get you your three months rent."

Seeing the heavily conflicted look on Neil's face, Orison said, "There's a glass bottle of rather foul tasting but incredibly good for you medicine in the fridge. I'll come back after I've fixed the radiator on your landlord's car and help Ms. Messier to bury her cat. If you haven't drank it by then, we don't need to share another word."

Neil looked at Orison sharply and said, "Ms. Messier... that girl's mom?"

Already half out the door, the young mage responded, "Yes, the mother of the girl you talked to yesterday, the one that works at the diner whose food you just ate. She feels terrible that her request got you hurt but I wouldn't let her give you an extra cent. She's not well off either and she's gone through enough. Consider your medical expenses taken care of since I interfered in your commission."

While Orison went through the motions of a mechanic, he slapped a couple of mends on the landlord's radiator and surrounding parts while he contemplated his morning. Barely out of trance rest, said landlord was knocking on the door at six. Fobbing the man off with a twenty and a light touch of supernatural suggestion, Orison caught a cab to the upper city. With Herne's grudging assistance and a few more uses of suggestion that left the young mage feeling a little morally uneasy, he had managed to forge himself a workable identity that would bare under the scrutiny of law enforcement. There were some catches but nothing too difficult to deal with.

Not wanting to fall into the slippery slope of leaning on suggestion to solve his problems at the expense of ethical and moral dilemmas, the young mage took a different course. Returning back to Neil's apartment building, Orison struck up a conversation with the landlord. The man was a little shady but upfront about it which lead to their arrangement of endorsement for a little cash and some help around the building.

Returning to Neil's office/apartment, he ran into Ms. Messier. After informing her of Neil's completion of assignment but current injured state, the woman burst into tears and promised to give more money as soon as she could which Orison informed her was unnecessary. Once he had comforted her enough for reason to reassert itself, she realized she was late for work. With nothing better to do, Orison walked her there. A pleasant conversation and reinvention of the breakfast sandwich later, he found himself looking for her cat, the task that had introduced Ms. Messier to Neil in the first place.

With Nibbles, the invisible hound on the case, it didn't take long but unfortunately Kippers capers were kaput. The poor tabby had been half eaten by some stray. To save the nice waitress some grief, Orison wrapped up the remains in some newspaper and placed it in a shoe box, neat and clean. Enduring a second round of histrionics that had Orison realizing the woman was well on her way to an anxiety attack, Orison used the slightest touch of suggestion to help her get back under control. The diner owner took it from there after sending him off with a couple more sandwiches and a promise that he had a good amount of credit if he was in the mood for some free grub.

While making the recovery draught, Orison found out that his telekinesis was an ability that conformed with the world quite well and therefore was quite a bit easier and cheaper to use. With some time and practice, he was fairly certain that healing and degree shift could be conformed and used more efficiently here as well. He wasn't as confident about anything else but with Herne and the wild bunch, he didn't feel that vulnerable against anything he'd encountered thus far.

All in all, Orison felt accomplished for his first day in the dying world and it was just a touch after noon. Shaking the cobwebs in his head loose, Orison wrapped up his mechanic act, let the landlord know to get some antifreeze into the radiator and made his way back to the diner. While he waited on Ms. Messier to finish with the moderately underwhelming lunch rush, Orison was forcefully treated to a slice of apple pie a-la-mode.

Out of boredom, Orison chatted with Alice, AKA 'Mrs. Derby to you, young man'. "Have you considered an express menu? There's a lot of people who don't have time to sit down and take a half an hour or more for lunch. Just a simple burger and fries wrapped up into a bit of butcher paper and offered at a decent price would appeal to a more 'on the go' crowd. Once you had a handle of the demand, you could anticipate orders and cut down waiting time even more. A little creative arrangement and you could even turn that window over there into a drive through pick-up."

Ten minutes into the preliminaries of getting a 'fast food' concept running and Alice seemed more than able to fill in the blanks. With a subtle hint that picking up one or two East Village part-timers might be in her best interests, he was ready to go dig a hole in Ms. Messier's flower garden. It wasn't that the woman was incapable of doing it herself. Orison was only too aware of how sad, scared and lonely she was.

As much as his heart strings tightened for her plight, Orison wanted to avoid getting emotionally entangled with anyone here. Half of his reasoning for choosing Neil as an endorsement was due to his much easier ability to keep a loose acquaintanceship with the early thirties detective. So when a beautiful young woman with a tragic but brave vibe made her way into the back yard of the dilapidated tenement, Orison nearly bolted right then and there.

The young mage thought, "Really!? The green and the red krypt*nite at the same time!? Nope. Just, nope."

When Ms. Messier latched onto her daughter and started lapsing between babbling her concern about the young woman and and the late Kippers, Orison said, "I'm intruding, let me see my way out."

Despite protests to the contrary and the young woman trying to thank him and even give him 'a little something for your troubles', Orison begged off and all but ran out. In front of the building was a dapper and charismatic gentleman that all but reeked of villain in front of his fancy car. Pasting an oblivious but pleasant expression on his face, Orison nodded politely in the man's direction, since they had made eye contact, and went about removing himself from the area.

"Hey you there, with the funny jacket. You the kid who dragged that clumsy detective back home after he went and tripped all over the place?" the dapper man said, flashing a predatory smile.

Dourly, the young mage turned around and said, "Unfortunate streak of bad luck, that was. People with two left feet shouldn't dance in cluttered alleys."

"Smart people tend to live longer lives. You look sharp, so I gotta ask. Why are you sniffing around the house of my dame's old lady?" the dapper man said, smile growing more sinister by the moment.

Orison sighed, "Helped her bury a dead cat. The good news is, she won't be losing anymore hard earned money to detectives chasing after lost causes. Since her loved ones and in-laws are here, there's no need for a stranger like me to be sticking around."

The man slipped a business card out of his cigarette case and said, "Too smart's as bad as not smart enough. Do yourself a favor. Have a night on me and kill a few brain cells."

With a deceptively casual flick of his wrist, the man sent his business card whistling towards Orison with the precision of a throwing knife. The young mage was happy he had his gloves on from digging in the garden because it was edged like one too. And even with the quality of his equipment, the card managed to leave a cut in the material that imitated leather. Neither the throw nor the card itself where mundane. Both carried a hint of supernatural quality.

Exercising a flair of showmanship, Orison shook the card three times before making it 'disappear' into his space, earning another small nub of black crystal. "Thanks for the treat, Smiley. I'll remember your generosity."

Mistaking Orison's saintly smile for genuine gratitude, Smiley took the fool's act at face value and tapped the brim of his hat before proceeding to ignore Orison's presence as if the teenager didn't exist. Once the young mage was out of sight, the sound of a busting tire hid a faint growl and low baritone chuckle. Half a block away, Orison could hear the distant and colorful commentary on street conditions and general thoughts on reputation surrounding the old immigrant tenements.

Mending his glove, Orison mumbled, "You're lucky I don't have Nibbles rip your throat out, you cheeky sh*t."

"Why don't you then? Why do you restrain yourself?" an old Asian man standing behind a produce stand said.

Orison's heart nearly leaped out of his throat before sinking into his stomach. Even with a light trace of spirit sight always active, the young mage hadn't had a trace of warning that the man was there until he spoke.

Cupping his left hand over his right at eye level, Orison bowed to the man, letting his hands go below his knees before straightening up. "No matter what I may think of myself, a guest must lower his head at the eves of another's home. If not out of respect, then at least out of practicality."

The old man's eyes narrowed in amusement as he smiled. "Is that why you bow to me? Out of practicality?"

Orison said, "Both. You are my elder and you are stronger than me."

The old man nodded once and let out a short grunt of appreciation at Orison's answer. "A good answer. More importantly, an honest one. As time passes, age matters less and strength matters more... One last question. Why the child's carving? Of all the things or nothing at all, why did you leave the wood carving?"

Orison felt a cold chill. It took a second for the weight of the question to register. The old man might have been the second mummy that had disappeared after the 'night of horrors'. If so, he had been robbed of everything and left with arguably the most worthless item of his whole collection. More so, the old man didn't look happy about it.

Since there wasn't anything that could be done about the past, Orison just answered with plain honesty. "It just felt right. Out of what was left for me by the other one, it made the resting place of the one who was left behind seem a little less sad, a little less final. It's hard to explain with words."

The old man chuckled humorlessly before looking bitter. "If we are fated to meet again, I will tell you a story. It is difficult for me to decide which one of us is indebted to the other but there are debts.

"Before I continue my journey, I will advise the Tong to consider opening their doors to you should you find yourself in need of stronger support. As one who comes from the outside, you know what the fate of this place is. Soon you will know why the gifted do not remain without a society for long."