Tarot Meets In Nomine - Part 3

Tarot hurtles through the air, Deborah over her shoulder.

The roof that Tarot is aiming for grows larger and larger in her view. There are a couple of dish-antennas upon it, as well as a little "shack" which probably has stairs within. Some old buckets of tar are around. One is also full of banana peels.

The stupider kinds of demonlings pad around the edges of the roof like demented pigeons.

Tarot attempts a rolling landing, aiming for the emptiest part of the roof.

Unbalanced by Deborah's weight on her shoulder, the landing is not as graceful as it might be. The Lilim goes tumbling off to bump into the shack with a yelp, while Tarot collects a fine selection of scrapes, bumps, and a banana peel over the head. If she was wearing hose, it is *wrecked*. On the plus side, she didn't tumble off and seems to have avoided the worst of the demonling droppings.

Tarot, fortunately, was in a bikini and therefore need not fear damage to her hose. She picks herself up, ungainly, and discards several banana peels, glancing towards Deborah.

Demonlings flutter off like pigeons, except less aerodynamic.

Deborah is collecting the scattered pages of her manuscript, and rubbing the back of her head.

Tarot snatches up the few scattered pieces of manuscript near her, striding towards the shack and the stairs down. "Come on. They may have noticed something."

Deborah says, "But I have to see if I have any pages missing!" She pauses. "If we leave any, they'll have a clue which way we went."

Tarot says "We have all the stray pages that were on the roof. We can hardly go down to the street to collect the rest."

Tarot opens the shack door, glancing down the stairs quickly.

Deborah says, "I only dropped some up here." She searches around for any more, and doesn't find any.

The stairs appear empty -- wooden things, splintered and creaky. Some treads are missing, fading down to darkness. The stairway is lit by a flickering, sparking bulb. The place smells like beer that was rented for a while and then returned.

Tarot offers Deborah the pages she is holding, wordlessly, and begins to make her way down the stairs, testing each before she steps on it.

Deborah takes the pages and tries to sort them into some kind of order -- or at least squaring off the corners -- before following.

Tarot's nose twitches at the smell of stale beer. She holds onto the stair rail, should there be such an amenity.

The stairs continue down, the railing starting up about a flight down (also splintery, sticky, and apparently covered with half-seen chewed gum). There is a landing with no door at that first flight, and then a landing below with a door. The stairs lead down into darkness. Someone is definitely scrimping on buying lights, and little scuttling things are heard.

Deborah makes little "ew" and "yuck" noises.

The stairs creak alarmingly, but seem to hold Tarot's weight. She wouldn't want to have Deborah over her shoulder here, though.

Tarot reaches the landing with the door, and pauses to listen at it.

It's a heavy door, surprisingly. Metal, and very well sealed. At first, there seems to be only silence, but then the faint sounds of what is either a laugh-track, or an audience who thinks something funny. The keyhole is rather modern-looking -- a deadbolt.

<> Tarot says "Do the stairs go further down? And we're not on street level yet, are we?"

<> arcangel says "You're not on street level, no, and yes, they go further down. Into darkness, with little creaky bits and scuttlings."

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 6 4 CHECK: 5.

<> arcangel tsks.

Tarot shifts slightly and indicates the deadbolt, so Deborah can see it, then shakes her head slightly, pointing further down.

Deborah peers at the deadbolt and then gazes down the stairs in horror. Quietly, she whispers, "You can't pick this one? We gotta go down more?"

<> Tarot says "Unfortunately, lockpicking is not one of Tarot's major talents."

<> Tarot says "Especially not good-quality deadbolts."

<> arcangel says "Poooor Tarot and Deborah."

Tarot murmurs, "Can you pick it?"

Deborah shakes her head. "I never really got into that, and I don't have anything, anyway." She looks to see which way the hinges open -- but alas, they are not accessible. It looks something like a fire-door, and when Deborah tries pulling on the handle, is, indeed, locked.

Tarot shakes her head, and murmurs, "Further down, then." She turns back to the stairs, again testing each step.

Deborah sighs and follows in Tarot's footsteps -- except for the step which is almost covered in gum. Another landing without a door, a turn, and a landing with a door -- this time facing the stairs, rather than to the right of them. This door looks much like the last one.

Tarot again listens at the door, and checks its lock.

<> Tarot says "At least if someone starts chasing us down from the roof, we'll hear them coming. :)"

It seems to be locked, and there is a sound of explosions from beyond it.

<> arcangel says "Heck, they'll probably fall through the stairs. Unless they're agile enough to fly..."

Tarot's eyes darken. She points the lock out to Deborah, then turns towards the stairs again.

Deborah sighs. "I think we found the fire-escape."

Tarot says "It should at least bring us to ground level outside the barricade below."

Another landing with nothing, and then one with another door. Same make, same model...

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 3 4 CHECK: 6.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 5 1 CHECK: 6.

Tarot tries listening at this door.

This one seems dead silent.

Tarot tries the handle on the door, to see if it opens.

The door opens part-way -- there seems to be some rather heavy door-chain on it.

Tarot tilts her head, trying to see what's beyond the door.

The room beyond is dark, lit hardly at all from the darkness of the stairway. It feels big, though. A breath of fresher breeze drifts through the stench of stale beer and used beer.

Deborah goes on tip-toes, trying to see past Tarot's shoulder.

Tarot bends slightly so that Deborah can peer through, as she tries to reach her lean hand through the crack of the door, and jiggle the chain loose.

The chain doesn't want to come loose, but with some contorting and daggerwork, the chain finally drops away. The door can be opened.

Tarot slips through the door quietly, flattening herself against the wall on the other side, and pulls Deborah through after her.

The room beyond is dark, dark, dark -- but cooler than the stairwell, and much better smelling, though the floor is still sticky with unnamed substances. It feels big, definitely. There is a sense of a large ceiling, of walls that are far away.

Tarot stays against the wall of the room, one hand against it as she begins to feel her way along it, and the other hand on Deborah's wrist.

The wall alternates between being cement-block and having drapery curtains against it. Both have a tendency to be sticky, and the drapes have holes or rips from time to time.

Tarot pauses at one of the drapery curtains, to see if there is anything behind it.

It is just wall behind. The drapes might be decorative -- in the light.

Tarot continues to feel her way along the wall, looking for a door.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 4 5 CHECK: 6.

Eventually, walking up a slight slope, Tarot reaches a corner. Proceeding along that, on level ground, gets her to a passage to one side, and the rest of the room to the other. It is seriously pitch black.

Deborah follows along, holding her breath often.

Deborah's manuscript crinkles slightly from time to time.

Tarot carefully edges into the passage, again staying next to the wall, testing each step.

It's flat in this passage, and sturdy enough. Keeping the wall to one side, she and Deborah turn a tight double-back curve after a couple of paces, and there is a very dim gleam ahead, that outlines a door.

Tarot breathes a whisper of, "Shhhh," and then edges up to the door, to see if she can hear anything on the other side.

Deborah holds her breath and tries not to crinkle. Tarot listens. There is silence from beyond.

Tarot carefully tries the door handle.

The door creaks slightly at the hinges, but opens ever so slightly. More dim light -- almost blinding, after the pitch darkness -- creeps through.

Tarot, on the "act naturally" principle, steps through, towing Deborah behind her.

The door-hinges creak more, but the pair emerge safely (?) into a corridor. Tacky old carpet is on the floor -- but so is dust. To one side, there is a door labled "Da Boss," and to the other, a turn around a corner. A few paces along the hall towards "Da Boss," there is a gleaming elevator. It's still waaaaay too quiet.

Tarot glances back towards Deborah. She indicates the door marked "Da Boss", and shakes her head, then the elevator, then shakes her head, and then the turn in the corridor.

Deborah eyes the corridor and shrugs.

Deborah . o O (I'm clueless about where we are. Didn't she have the escape route mapped out beforehand?)

<> Tarot says "I am made nervous by Demonic Elevators."

<> arcangel giggles.

Tarot . o O ( How the heck was I supposed to do that? )

Tarot heads down the corridor, pace full of the self-confidence of a Habbalite - but also nice and quiet.

Deborah follows meekly, shifting her manuscript from hand to hand. The corridor goes on, then turns. There are starting to be other noises now -- the almost subliminal rumble of Shal-Mari, and the vibrations of bass-notes such as one finds in movie theatres. They seem far away, though. The pair leave footprints in the dusty carpet behind them, but they are not *that* obvious against the faded pattern.

Tarot makes her way down the corridor, eyes flicking from side to side, looking for some door or exit or other item of interest.

There are windows at the sides of the corridor, but they seem to be painted over, and possibly boarded over as well, from the outside. The hall stretches on, without door, dimly lit, and makes another corner. Noises get subtly more obvious as they go along.

Tarot pauses, to murmur to Deborah, "We can continue this way, or try the elevator."

Deborah shrugs. "Don't ask me," she murmurs back. "I haven't been here. This is your rescue, right?"

Tarot murmurs, "Well, nor have I. This _is_ my first voluntary visit to Hell."

Tarot murmurs, dryly, "Let us try the elevator. It may at least have some useful directions on the button panel."

Deborah sighs. "The elevator would either be the last place they'd look, good, or lead straight to some Duke's home, bad. If we go on -- we might get out on the street..."

Deborah nods. "True. I just hope the doors stay open while you're looking."

Tarot says "If it is a Duke of Kobal, we might be able to make a private arrangement with him to let us out. Especially as the Game is after us."

Tarot turns, making her way back towards the elevator.

Deborah chuckles. "You're looking on the bright side..." She follows, retracing the steps in the dusty carpet.

The elevator is soon in sight. It is gleaming, chrome and frosted steel. The buttons are plastic cut to look like jewels. There is an up-arrow and a down-arrow, but no numbers along the top.

<> Tarot says "How many buttons are there? Just the Up and Down?"

<> arcangel says "Just the Up and the Down."

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 1 4 CHECK: 6.

<> arcangel says "The elevator is *clean*. No dust on it. Anywhere."

<> arcangel says "No noseprints on the doors."

Tarot murmurs, to Deborah, "I think we might do better trying to reach the street level and mingle there than to risk this."

Deborah eyes the elevator. "Well, it's not going anywhere. I hope. So we can go take a look..."

Tarot says "Very well."

Tarot heads back down the corridor again.

Back, turn, back, turn... Beyond the final corner, when peeked around, there appears to be a lobby-area. The corridor Tarot and Deborah are on has a dusty velvet rope across it. Barely visible is a ticket-taker stand, with a bored looking Shedite dripping on it and toying with torn ticket-stubs. The lobby appears rather empty. Obviously the place is between showings.

Tarot murmurs, to Deborah, "Just behave naturally."

Deborah eyes the Shedite. "You mean wrinkle my nose and walk the other way?"

Tarot says "Precisely."

Deborah says, "That would take us back to the elevator."

Tarot's mouth curls. "I mean, then, wrinkle your nose, and ignore him in the most traditional way as we leave."

Beyond, apparently not having noticed the pair, the Shedite drips on the stand, chewing gum with three or four lipless, cheekless mouths.

Deborah says, "Um, you think he's not going to ask where we came from?"

Tarot absently checks that the cattle-prod is still on her belt.

Tarot says "Clearly if we are inside here, we must already have tickets, or how could we have got inside?"

Tarot says "Either that, or _he_ has been shirking his duties."

Deborah bites her lip. "Um. If you say so..."

The Shedite spits out one wad of gum, onto the floor.

Deborah . o O (At least the elevator was *clean*...)

Tarot stalks out into the main area, towards the exit, one hand on Deborah's wrist firmly. She moves with a contained anger and hauteur, giving the Shedite a single brief glance.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 6 1 CHECK: 4.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 2 4 CHECK: 6.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 6 5 CHECK: 4.

The Shedite blinks several of its staring eyes, then boils around to partly block the pair. "Hey, pretty," it gurgles, several eye-stalks focusing on Tarot (and her chest, and her legs, and her backside...). "Didn' see you c'min!"

Deborah, behind Tarot, swallows hard.

Tarot says "Did you not."

Tarot's teeth show, briefly.

Tarot says "Remind me to mention it to his supervisor, Tempter."

The Shedite grins several grins. "I'd've remembered you, pretty."

The Shedite stops grinning a little. "Supervisor?"

Tarot's teeth show again.

Deborah makes scritchings on the backs of her papers.

Tarot says "So far I have been watching you for the past ten minutes."

The Shedite blinks. And preens.

Tarot says "Have you attempted anything useful?"

Tarot says "I think not."

Tarot says "You have been lazing and wasting your time."

Tarot says "There is no place for dead wood in this organisation."

Tarot glances to Deborah. "Make a note."

The Shedite says, "Hey, I'm between shifts." Its tone turns wheedling, "I can be real useful, angel-cakes!"

Deborah makes notes.

Tarot's voice is cold and dry. "You show little sign of it. Instead of attempting to improve yourself, or do anything of _value_, you lounge here and chew gum."

Tarot says "Hell has no time for such wastrels."

The Shedite says, "But, but, but..." Its eyestalks droop. "C'mon, beautiful, don't be that way. I just wanted to say hi."

Tarot snorts.

<> arcangel grins. "That middle roll up there? The 6 with CD6? That was a reaction roll."

<> Pat says "Ew."

<> Tarot says "Ew ew."

The Shedite droops, dripping sadly on the floor. "C'mon, please don't be that way."

<> Tarot says "I have both a Djinn and a Shedite after me. What fun."

<> arcangel cracks up.

<> Pat says "Gimme some sugar, baby. :)"

Tarot's look becomes considering.

<> Jo doesn't make threesome jokes.

<> arcangel says "Oh, it doesn't care about the Lilim."

Tarot says "I suppose that there is no need to actively make a report of this, if you are prepared to behave appropriately."

The Shedite is nearly on the floor, peering up hopefully with several lidless eyes.

The Shedite grins again. "I'll behave, gorgeous!"

Tarot turns to Deborah. "Tempter. Make a note on my schedule to return here in two and a half hours. Precisely."

Deborah makes this note dutifully, murmuring, "Yes, mistress."

Tarot glances back down at the Shedite again. "Later." She steps over it, making her way towards the door.

The Shedite floats up as Tarot passes. "I'll be here!" It tries to coil a bit of itself against her ankle.

Deborah skirts around the Shedite, giving it the widest possible berth.

Tarot disregards the Shedite, behaving with true Habbalite coldness, and giving it only the momentary comfort of stepping on a tentacle.

The Shedite makes a squishy noise, maybe of pain, maybe of amusement. Tarot leaves slightly slimey tracks as she heads for the doors.

The doors are glass, and show the street outside, which has a selection of people gawking in the direction of the brothel, and a selection of people heading with great purpose for *elsewhere*, *away* from the brothel.

<> Tarot says "Is there anyone out there watching these doors?"

<> arcangel says "Doesn't appear to be anyone watching specifically, no."

<> arcangel says "Exiting will probably not be unnoticable, but no one seems to be paying attention."

Tarot exits, calmly, through the doors, with Deborah still in tow, and then joins the group of people heading away from the brothel.

<> Tarot can probably merge into the crowd fairly easily?

It is easy enough to merge with the crowd, though she has to elbow past those who *want* to come and gawk.

The Balseraph-with-microphone and Impudite-with-camera that Tarot met earlier are trying to push their way *towards* the scene.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 1 2 CHECK: 1.

Tarot glances across, and attempts to evade them in the crowd.

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 5 2 CHECK: 5.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 3 2 CHECK: 6.

The Balseraph indicates a Habbalite in the crowd -- huge-bosomed, with little gold chains covering her back, dangling from thousands of piercings. She is clutching a scrap of gauze to herself indignantly, and arguing with an indigo Balseraph with rings piercing her wings. The two Media Servitors pass Tarot and Deborah by, heading for the other pair of demons.

Tarot merges further into the crowd of demons and the damned, murmuring to Deborah, "We are making for the Houseboat. I have a pass for a Tether there. Unless you have a better idea."

Deborah murmurs back, "My best idea is Don't Get Caught Before We Escape. If you've got passes, let's go for that. Unless they know you came from there."

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 6 2 CHECK: 6.

Tarot says "I do not think that they do."

Deborah says, "Lead on, then, and keep the Sheddies away."

Tarot attempts to retrace her path, at least vaguely in direction, towards the Houseboat.

As they get away from the brothel, the crowds get more congested -- more people going every which way, and few streams of people to merge with. Demonlings try to pick pockets (or pouches, or simply cop a feel -- which gets one drop-kicked by Deborah). Souls try the same now and again, or simply beg, or offer themselves for rent.

<> arcangel grins. "What would you say Tarot's Perception is?"

<> arcangel checks for Deborah. Deb's probably, oh, an 8 or 9?

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 6 2 CHECK: 2.

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 5 4 CHECK: 4.

<> Tarot says "That's probably a fail, for Tarot."

<> arcangel nods. "And with a penalty, too. Tsk."

<> Tarot says "Alas."

Tarot maintains the posture of a Habbalite, as she walks, eyes sharp. She still wears the mirrorshades.

Tarot is making headway, one hand near the pouch with the all important pass, when something licks her wrist, coiling around damply and trying to trace into her palm, all at once.

Deborah eeps in alarm.

<> arcangel hums to herself. "You're about 3/4ths of the way back to the Houseboat, if that's any consolation."

Tarot spins, the licked hand falling to slap against the pouch as her free hand comes to rest against the hilt of her knife. She growls, slightly.

Ysari, of the gleaming scales, triple tails and trio of tongues, stands there. "Oh, did I startle you?" it trills sweetly.

Deborah is backing away, trying to put Tarot between her and Ysari.

Tarot says, very gently, "Think of it as natural reflexes, little one. You should not do that. I might have harmed you before realising who you were."

Ysari half-lids its gleaming eyes. "Oh, you would have stopped in time. I know. And I am not so... weak, so fragile, that I could not withstand what you might offer."

<> arcangel thinks. "Oh, gimme another Perception roll, just for grins."

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 1 6 CHECK: 5.

There is another Djinn about half a block down, loitering. This one looks humanoid, though with a wolfish head and a trailing barbed tail. Maybe it's just that Tarot is attuned to threes right now -- for its G-string seems to be triple-packed -- but it seems to be paying a lot of attention to Tarot's direction. (Or to Ysari, or Deborah. Hard to tell.)

Tarot's mouth curls. "Well, do you want to come along with me now, my pet? And when I have deposited this Tempter, we will be at leisure together."

Ysari licks its nose and whiskerpads. "It would please me greatly to go with you, fair ivory Wolfling. I would hate to think the little ... incident, back there, would have made you not want to come visit me..."

Deborah hisses in Tarot's ear, "It's *security*!"

Tarot's eyes are hidden by her mirrorshades. She ignores Deborah's whisper, as she leans closer to Ysari. "You do realise that the Game has a tail on you, my pet?" she murmurs.

Ysari blinks. "No. I did not. Why do you think so?"

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 5 2 CHECK: 5.

<> arcangel says "Hmm."

Tarot murmurs, voice still quiet, "Because I have seen one watching us down the street from where we are. I think that we had better be swift about matters, do you not?"

Ysari smiles and tries to rub its head against the nearest part of Tarot it can reach. "Yes, we should. Whither are you bound, pretty Punisher?"

The other Djinn drifts closer, its wolfling ears swiveling.

Tarot rubs Ysari's forehead, and murmurs, "And we are listened to, also. Come, walk with me."

Tarot flicks a quick glance to Deborah, as though to signal that she should follow, then moves off down the street.

<> Tarot says "Tarot is assuming the other Djinn is from the Game."

Ysari coils two of its tongues around Tarot's wrist again, and somehow manages to say, "Yes, we shall walk."

<> Tarot says "She may or may not be right about this."

<> arcangel is not saying if Tarot is right.

Deborah makes a little whiney noise in her throat and follows. Keeping Tarot between her and Ysari.

Ysari seems intent on tasting Tarot's wrist up to the armpit, if allowed...

Tarot continues to stroll vaguely towards the Houseboat - though it might be any of half a dozen points in Shal-Mari that she is heading for - and keeps an eye out for convenient, not widely used, side alleys.

Tarot's jaw is tensed, once or twice, but she permits Ysari to lick at her arm.

<> Tarot says "Just out of curiosity, as Tarot would have checked."

<> Tarot says "How far up do the settings on her cattle-prod go? :)"

<> arcangel says "Up to doing actual damage, possible stunning, yes."

<> Tarot says "Gooood."

<> Tarot says "Now, what we want is a nice not-too-busy alley, with both ends open, at a spot conveniently close to the Houseboat."

There are many alleys in Shal-Mari. It's easy enough to spot one that doesn't have a stream of traffic through it. She can even recall a few from her approach... Ysari purrs sweetly. "You are so very purposeful, pretty one. Whither do you go? And why with this Lilim when I am so much more... skilled?"

Deborah twitches.

<> Tarot says "Tarot's plan being to get into it, stun Ysari, and run like hell out the other end and get lost in the crowd before the other Djinn catches up."

<> arcangel thought that might be something like.

<> Tarot says "And hopefully reach the Houseboat before Ysari wakes up properly."

<> Tarot grins.

<> arcangel wishes Tarot luck.

Tarot strokes Ysari's head. "It is the matter of a Geas, my pet." Her tone is neutral and uninflected. "Do you think I would spend all my time running around like this if there were not an obligation involved?"

Ysari rubs against Tarot's leg, one of its tails curling around her waist for a moment. "I have no idea, my precious. Would you?"

Deborah twitches again, half-glancing back over her shoulder.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 2 6 CHECK: 3.

Tarot turns into the chosen alley. "I do not think I would be so... vigorous about it." Her free hand falls to her side, and she waits for Ysari's tail to uncoil itself from her waist.

Ysari uncoils the tail, the better to walk, and purrs. "It is better to do things... slowly. Savor the sensations. The experiences."

Words filter into Tarot's mind, along with a spark of Essence. "You think I will forget you soon? You're wrong, pretty one. *I* will remember you." The feeling of the voice is dark leather and satin, velvet and wine.

Ysari seems pleased enough that they are in an alley, though it starts... dropping back. Just a little.

Tarot twitches in reaction to something, with a gasp, which perhaps makes her next move all the more natural, as she spins to look behind her, dragging her arm free from Ysari as she does so.

Deborah is skittering ahead, clutching her papers.

Ysari stands in the alley, with the big wolfling-humanoid Djinn behind it.

<> Tarot says "Great."

<> arcangel says "Not *instantly* behind it, but close enough to see, yes."

<> Tarot says "I suspect we've just walked straight into the situation _they_ wanted - a nice back alley."

<> arcangel whistles.

Tarot's free hand is coming round as she turns, the cattle-prod in it and flicked to maximum, to jab it hard into Ysari's side.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 5 2 CHECK: 6.

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 2 5 CHECK: 6.

Ysari starts to say, "Shatar, don't hurt--" and then screeches, convulsing as the prod connects. There is a nasty scorching crackle, and all its tails stiffen. The other Djinn snarls and leaps for Tarot.

Deborah is running for it for all she's worth.

Tarot turns and staggers a few artistic steps, cattle-prod still firmly in hand; but her attention is on bringing the Song of Celestial Light to mind, and strengthening its use.

<> Tarot says "Plan is to let herself be "overtaken" then squirt Cel Light into its eyes, and jab it with the cattle-prod while distracted."

Ahead of Tarot, Deborah is pelting along. Little demonic ratlings and infernal pigeons get out of her way.

The Djinn's heavy footfalls come towards Tarot very, *very* quickly as she "runs."

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 1 2 CHECK: 6.

Tarot turns, and light spears from her hands into the Djinn's eyes as the Song vibrates through her.

The Djinn jerks to one side, but an instant too late! The Celestial Light takes it full in the face and it howls -- a deep baritone and shrill soprano at the same time -- lashing out blindly with its claw-like hands.

Tarot jerks herself to one side, bringing the cattle-prod round again to discharge into the Djinn.

<> Tarot rolls the d666 and gets 4 6 CHECK: 6.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 3 4 CHECK: 4.

The cattleprod isn't as secure a smack as it was on Ysari, but the Djinn looses that two-toned shriek again and falls to one knee. Then it starts Singing something.

Tarot runs like fury.

Tarot hooks the cattle-prod on her belt as she does so.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 2 3 CHECK: 3.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 5 2 CHECK: 4.

There is a spurt of Essence, and then a spurt of acidic glop whizzes by her head, thin bits landing on her arm and stinging.

Deborah is at the corner of the alley and turning Houseboat-wards.

Tarot slaps at her arm as she runs, trying to brush the bits off with the back of her glove, but doesn't stop or change direction.

Tarot spins at the corner, and grabs Deborah's wrist, towing her into the mass of the crowd. She slows to a fast stalk, rather than an all-out pelt.

<< GAME >> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 5 5 CHECK: 3

Another acidglop goes by Tarot, spattering against the wall and missing her entirely. And then she's around the corner.

Deborah follows quickly, clutching her papers. "Blessit, that was Ysari!"

Tarot says, sharply but quietly, "Yes, and another Djinn of Lust with him, and a little message from the Beautiful Prince himself."

Tarot says "We must hope they have not realised where we are going."

Deborah makes a little "HEEK" noise. "MESSAGE?" she hisses in an undertone.

Tarot says, quite blandly, "Celestial Tongues," though the tone of her voice might simply be another way of dealing with shock.

Deborah continues to make those little in-drawn-breath heeking noises. "Is Ysari dead?"

Tarot murmurs, "Probably not. I think that he was only stunned. The other was slowed, but is still conscious, if dazzled."

Deborah whines faintly. "Are you sure that running wouldn't be a good idea about now? Ysari's attuned to you, but the other one isn't..."

Tarot says "Oh, I can run at any time."

Tarot says "I can ascend to my body. But you cannot."

Tarot says "I believe that I have a responsibility to see you to the University."

Tarot keeps her voice conversational, as she makes for the Houseboat.

Deborah says, "Er. Right. Okay. Sure. Are you sure we can't run to the Tether?"

Tarot says "Do you wish to wager that the mob will not take an interest in two people sprinting through the crowd?"

Deborah adds, "And thanks for coming after me. I think."

Tarot says "Why, thank you for that."

Tarot is going at as fast a walk is consistent with not drawing attention by obviously running.

Deborah shrugs. "Hey, you didn't have to, I think. But I was in a bad bind." She grimaces slightly. "I mean, I can snap the Geas off..." She's keeping up, but not trying to break into a run.

Tarot says "It was a matter of principle, lady. You did not *have* to let me go, or even to do so under bargain."

Deborah shrugs again. "Like I was gonna keep you there if you weren't a Malakite? No wings to study. 'Sides, not like I knew you were wanted by half the Princes." Her voice drops down a bit at that, so as not to be overheard, though still as conversational as might be expected on a Shal-Mari street.

Tarot's mouth quirks at that. "What a thing it is to have a reputation."

Tarot says "I am sure that it is somewhat exaggerated."

Deborah says, "Well, I don't want *your* rep. No way. Especially not if you're getting celestigrams from the Beautiful Prince."

Tarot says "Hopefully he will get bored soon."

Tarot says "I really hope so."

Tarot's mouth quirks again. "Believe me on that."

Deborah nods. "You and me both. But I wouldn't count on it."

Tarot says "Let us work on getting out of here, first."

Tarot idly reaches into her pouch to check on the pass-token.

Deborah nods again. "Yeah."

The token appears to still be there, wonder of wonders.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 3 3 CHECK: 6.

<> Tarot says "Oh dear. Ysari just woke up, I bet. How far are we from the Houseboat?"

There appears to be a bit of a disturbance behind them...

<> arcangel says "About 2-3 blocks now."

Tarot says, dryly, "Now we run," and does so.

Deborah laughs, though it's a bit shocky, and pelts after Tarot with enthusiasm.

Another speck of Essence comes to Tarot, and a dry, soft voice of moving shadows whispers into her mind, "Fascinating play. Andrealphus is not pleased. Very clever."

Tarot stumbles, nearly, but catches herself, and runs on.

<> Tarot says "I think I don't tell Deborah about that one. ;)"

The Houseboat looms ahead, its gangplank like a ladder to Heaven itself. A Calabite picks at the dock while a furry dog-headed centipede Djinn hunkers at the base of the gangplank.

Tarot slows to a fast walk again, just before they reach the Houseboat, and catches at Deborah's wrist. With her free hand, she flips out the pass, showing it toward the guards as she walks for the gangplank.

<> Tarot says "As someone running across is going to get stopped, _whatever_ the circumstances."

Deborah gloms against Tarot like a hired Lilim about to give her all. The Calabite leers at them while the Djinn pops out an eyestalk and gives the pass a onceover, then shrugs (an interesting gesture, on it) and hunkers down again.

Tarot inclines her head in the barest shadow of acknowledgement, as she makes her way up the gangplank with the clinging Deborah, and on board the ship.

There is a shriek of rage behind them, and a two-toned bellow of, "STOP THAT HABBALITE!" The Calabite looks interested and moves to stand on the gangplank, blocking the way behind Tarot.

Tarot steps through the nearest doorway out of sight.

The Houseboat has many doorways into quiet, darkened rooms, with the occasional lava lamp in a corner somewhere.

Tarot closes her eyes and takes a deep breath between one step and the next, then attempts to retrace her pathway across the Houseboat, back towards the Tethers.

It doesn't seem to have changed since she came to Hell, fortunately. From the direction of the gangplank come the sounds of a scuffle, and a few more Calabim and a blood-dripping Habbalite head towards the disturbance with interest.

Ahead is the room where Tarot came down.

<> Tarot says "Are there any other such Tether-endpoints round here?"

<> Tarot says "Obvious ones, that is."

<> Tarot says "I am suddenly getting nervous. ;)"

<> arcangel thinks so, yes. "Not gobs and gobs, but there are other Tethers around."

<> Tarot says "And if another Tether-endpoint would serve to get Deborah out, well, it would mean that they weren't waiting for me by _that_ one."

<> arcangel chuckles.

<> Tarot is nervous about her steps being traced, yes.

<> arcangel attempts to look innocent.

Tarot changes direction mid-step - though not too obviously - and, instead, walks towards another of the Tether end-points. She holds the pass from Lilith in her hand.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 1 1 CHECK: 5.

<> Arcangel rolls the d666 and gets 3 6 CHECK: 5.

As Tarot walks towards the end-point, pass held out, a snake with a woman's head lifts out of a mass of semi-conscious bodies just as Tarot is stepping through the mess. Glaze-eyed, the creature titters and kisses Tarot's thigh.It then slithers for the door.

<> Tarot says "I'm not suddenly feeling poisoned or drugged, am I?"

<> arcangel says "Light headed enough -- but has been, I suspect."

Tarot ignores the creature with icy disdain, and continues towards the end-point, Deborah still in tow.

<> arcangel says "No sudden change of state. Unless it's due to psychosomaticism."

<> Tarot says "I think Tarot's probably on edge enough anyhow."

The bored Impudite at the end-point eyes the pass, leers at Deborah, and makes absolutely no move to stir himself from where a pair of human souls cater to his whims.

Tarot inclines her head again, faintly, and steps into the Tether, clasping Deborah - and wills herself Upward.

There is a brief flash, a feeling of being in a water-slide going up, a glimpse of Deborah green beside her. And then Tarot and Deborah (looking human now, though fairly similar) stand in a hot, darkened room. Traffic noises come from all around the grubby apartment, and scents of heavy herbs and other drugs clog the air. Futons on the floor hold human bodies. At least most of them seem to be breathing.

Tarot steps over the bodies, fastidiously, making her way towards the door.

Deborah follows gingerly, clutching her papers.

Tarot says, to Deborah, "I hope that you have not lost any of those pages, after all this." She tries the door handle.

Deborah says, "Me too."

The door is unlocked. It opens onto an apartment-building hallway. A very run-down hallway, but blessedly free of demonlings, Djinn, or other Shal-Mari nastiness.

As Tarot and Deborah leave the apartment, closing the door behind them (the Seneschal, if any, not in evidence), there is a burst of disturbance from the room behind them, as of someone ascending.

Tarot glances towards Deborah, then - yet again - runs down the hallway.

Deborah starts laughing uncontrollably as she follows.

Tarot's own mouth twitches into a genuine smile as the escape continues, down the nearest flight of emergency stairs.

Down the stairs, a sharp turn, an door to the outside -- and it looks normal! Sunshine! Cars streaming by on the street! Taxis! Public phones! A San Francisco bus!

Tarot says "Okay, San Francisco."

Tarot hails the second taxi that comes along. Not the first, never the first, but the second.

Deborah says, "Angel-country. Funky."

<> Tarot says "This is a Tried And True thing of spy and crime fiction."

<> Tarot says "If you're being hunted, _always_ take the second taxi and not the first. ;)"

<> Tarot says "Or perhaps even the third."

The second taxi stops for her hail, and the cabbie of unclear ethnic origin says, "Wheryannago?"

<> Tarot says "Hm. Does Tarot know of any angel-Tethers in SF?"

<> Tarot says "Or are there any convenient air flights which go to IOU-nearest-town?"

<> arcangel thinks she would probably know of at least a few angel-hangouts, sure. Airport is also possible, yes.

<> arcangel says "There's this little chain coffee-bar place called Foo.Bar.Com, y'see."

Tarot tugs Deborah in after her, saying to the cabbie, "SF Airport, please. Terminal for local flights."

The cabbie says, "Surting!" He starts the meter running and pulls away from the curb. Glancing back, Tarot can see a woman is hanging out the window of a second-story apartment window. The woman -- with the face of the snake-creature from the Houseboat, blows her a kiss.

Tarot says, to Deborah, quietly, "I did not think you would wish to be hiding at an Angel-Tether here."

Deborah relaxes against the seat. "After all this, hey, I could cope. But yeah, thanks, the University would be a great place to go."

Tarot relaxes, for the first time.

Tarot says "Thank you for your cooperation."

Deborah says, "Hey, you got me out. It was getting twitchy for me. I think they intended to lock me away for all time. Thanks."

Tarot nods.

Deborah bites her lip, sighs, and adds, "I think I owe you."

Tarot says "You are welcome."

Tarot says "I am not going to ask a formal debt."

Deborah nods. "Okay. Thanks. I'll remember."

Tarot says "I would, however, ask that you give the University and the people there a fair trial."

Tarot picks through words. "Just ... see how it goes."

Deborah tilts her head. "Okay. I'll do my best. And you'll still get me that intro to a Malakite?"

Tarot nods.

Tarot says "I will be glad to."

Deborah beams. "That's great!" She looks at her crumpled papers and offers them to Tarot. "Do you wanna read the first draft?"

Tarot's mouth quirks.

Tarot says "On the plane, perhaps?"

Deborah nods. "Sure. Um. Think we could pick up a notebook and a pen at the airport gift shop? I got some really good images I need to write down..."

Tarot says "Certainly."

Tarot looks, for a moment, a shade nervous. "Might I ask what?"

Deborah settles back with the grin of a very pleased Lilim. "You and that Shedite, and when you stood up to Ysari, and the theater and..." She babbles on happily.

And the cabbie drives off into the noon...

Tarot's eyes narrow, flecking with green.

Tarot says, as the cabbie drives off into the noon, "I will have to insist that you change the names."

Deborah says, "Well, of course! I always change the names!"

<> Tarot says "And the curtains close on the Kobalplex Presentation!"

<> arcangel lets the curtains close and bows.

<> arcangel | Deborah asks, from behind the closed curtains, "But can I write in another scene with Ysari and you?"

<> Demiurge | Tarot's eyes slide all the way to green. "What you create as fiction is your own concern. Merely do not name your models - or even describe them _that_ closely."

---

In Nomine
Tarot