Kindred Spirits 2.2
Apr. 22nd, 2020 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartKindred Spirits
by Soledad
Rating: Teens and above, for some canon-compliant violence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part Two
Coreen Fennel was overwhelmed by a feeling that – under different circumstances – she’d find unworthy any self-respecting Goth: she was fed up to the eyeteeth with the supernatural. But that was understandable, she argued with herself. Being possessed by a demon could do that, even to the most devout Goth.
So yeah, she’d have been happy to quit her job at Nelson Investigations, even if they hadn’t anything else bust the most boring divorce cases in the foreseeable future (Ha! Fat chance for that to happen!), was off her Goth make-up, change her entire garderobe and pick up gardening somewhere in the countryside.
Only she couldn’t do it, could she? Astaroth was still at large, and she was personally responsible for that. The fact that she hadn’t intended to cause it didn’t really matter in the face of the consequences. Vicky, Mike and Henry were no longer in speaking terms, Madame Andrea was dead and Father Cascioli was now possessed by the demon. And it was her fault!
That she had only wanted to help Vicki get a grip on her love life didn’t change the outcome of things.
So no, she couldn’t afford the luxury of backing off. The least she could do was to help Vicki figure out a way to deal with the demon, once and forever.
It was fortunate indeed that she stumbled upon that demon database on the internet… operated by a nun of all people. Or by several nuns? She wasn’t really sure. The earlier entries were authored by somebody called Sr. Grace Cole OSB (after some research she found out, to her disappointment, that the abbreviation simply meant a member of the Benedictine order), the later ones by a M. Verena.
Just like that. No last name, no scientific or religious specifications. Nothing.
Why had there been a change of site administrators Coreen didn’t know and frankly, she didn’t care. What counted was that the nun(s) seemed to know their shit. There were creatures listed (aside from mere demons, werewolves and at least three different kinds of vampires) that she hadn’t even heard of before.
And since the database was meticulously ordered, it didn’t take her long to find the article about Astaroth. It was a long one, started by Sr. Grace and repeatedly updated by half a dozen people, including M. Verena, Rupert Giles, Wesley Wyndham-Price, Anya Jenkins and, as a last entry, by a certain Professor Rudolph Martin, PhD.
It began with a lengthy historical introduction. As a rule Coreen found such things boring, but this time she found she couldn’t afford to ignore it. So she sighed and began to read.
“Astaroth was originally a demonic goddess,” Sr. Grace wrote. “The name is derived from that of the Phoenician goddess Astarte (2nd millennium BC), and equivalent of the Babylonian Ishtar and the earlier Sumerian Inanna…”
There came an extremely detailed explanation of how the original name became distorted through translation into Hebrew, then into ancient Greek and Latin. She quickly scanned this part as it obviously didn’t contain any useful information.
Useful for her, that is.
It took several pages until she reached something that seemed at least a little familiar, written in a pedantic, academic manner by somebody called Rupert Giles.
“The name Astaroth as a male demon is first known from The Book of Abramelin, written in Hebrew around 1458, and recurred in most occult grimoires of the following centuries. Astaroth also features as an arch-demon associated to the glipshoth (adverse forces) according to later Kabbalistic texts.”
“Now we’re were getting somewhere,” Coreen muttered. She didn’t really know what the Kabbala was (meaning: not at all!), but the article offered several promising links, and she started clicking through them, one after another.
The further she got, the faster did she lose all remaining hope.
If the experts of the Demon Database were right – and she didn’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be – then not even Henry could stand a chance, once the demon had grown into his full strength. Their divided little group might have some time left, but not much. And even as things stood now, their chances were slim at best.
And that slim chance could only work if they put aside their grievances and worked together again. Even if only for one last time.
But who would make the all-deciding first step? Vicki and the two guys were all too proud for their own good. Besides, she, Coreen, had to make amends, had she not? What was her pride compared with the importance of the gargantuan task at their hands?
That decided, the only remaining question was: whom should she call first?
Fortunately, the chance was taken out of her hand when her cell phone rang. With guilt mixed with relief did she recognize the number: it was Henry’s.
“Coreen, we need to talk; in person,” the vampire said without preamble as soon as she answered his call.
She was so surprised that she could barely answer. She thought she’d be the last person Henry would want to see. Ever.
“Sure; I was about to call you anyway,” she finally managed; it wasn’t a lie, not exactly. “You see, I’ve found this demon database on the internet, and it’s really cool, these people know theirs tuff, but…” she ran out of breath, and after a pause she added glumly. “But I really think we’ve got a problem here. A bigger one than we’ve ever thought.”
“I know,” Henry replied. “I’ve just got an unexpected visit from some experts… but I’d like you to check a few things for me. Just so that I can be reasonably sure they’re telling me the truth.”
“Of course, Henry, I can do that,” Coreen was immensely relieved by the chance to actually do something. Something useful. “What do you need?”
“Everything you can find about an ancient Sumerian goddess named Inanna,” the vampire said. “Especially any possible connection between her and Astaroth. And everything you can find out about a certain Professor Rudolph Martin. I’ve already done some internet research on him, but the results are sparse at best. Perhaps your… special skills can prove useful in this case.”
The emphasis revealed that he was meaning her skills as a hacker. She giggled nervously.
“I’ll give my best, I promise! But Henry, the guy you’ve asked about… I’ve found several articles in the demon database I mentioned that were written by him. So whoever he might be, he knows a lot about such things.”
“Well…” Henry said slowly, “that is reassuring… to an extent.”
“It is?” Coreen wasn’t sure she understood what he was hinting at; all right, she didn’t have the faintest idea, but it was always wise to admit one’s complete ignorance. “Well, I’ve been doing a bit of research of my own when you called, and I’ve just read some stuff on this Inanna chick… funny coincidence, isn’t it?”
“If you believe in coincidences,” the vampire replied dryly. “Found anything interesting?”
“Not really, but I was mostly looking for stuff about Astaroth. Is there anything you want to know specifically?”
“Yes. There’s an amulet in the Royal Ontario Museum, some artefact found at an excavation site fifty or so years ago. It’s supposedly Sumerian – which is why it isn’t in any of the displays – and once belonged to the Eanna Temple in Uruk. It’s supposed to be thirteen thousand years old. I’d like to know, if it’s possible to find out, what its purpose might have been.”
Coreen’s heart sank. History really, really wasn’t her forte; quite frankly, she found it deadly boring, unless it had any connection to the occult. But she was good at internet research, and she owed Henry all the help she could offer.
“That’s a tough one, but I see what I can do,” she promised. “Do you want me to mail you the results?”
“Actually, I’d prefer if you could bring them in person,” Henry replied. “I’m having a meeting with those experts tomorrow, and I’d like to have someone to watch my back.”
Coreen blinked a few times. This was actually flattering. In fact, it was the most flattering thing Henry ever said to her.
“Well, sure,” she said as soon as the moment of bafflement was over. “But are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Vicki there?”
“No!” Henry said promptly. “I don’t want these people to see her marks. I don’t even want them to know of her; not until I can be certain that they wouldn’t stab us in the back.”
“If you’re so unsure about them why are you working with them in the first place?” Coreen asked in understandable confusion. It was uncharacteristic for Henry to work with people he didn’t trust.
“Because they actually might be able to help,” the vampire answered grimly. “And because I’m desperate.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“So, what do you think about our host?” Nahir asked his Childer on the next day. The undead prince was in day-sleep, unaware of his surroundings (a specific weakness of his kind), so they could discuss things without being overheard.
“Well, he’s pretty,” Phoebe said with a saucy grin. Nahir rolled his eyes.
“Aside from that. I haven’t brought you with me to drool over his looks but to monitor his emotional state. You are the empath; the rest of us can’t do it.”
He knew it was a risk to bring Phoebe when they were about to battle a powerful demon. Since her involvement with Belthazor, she was particularly vulnerable to demonic influences, even after her Embrace and Becoming. But she was the only one of the Halliwell sisters with empathic powers and premonition; they needed her.”
“Sire, why is important for us the emotional state of Mr. Fitzroy?” Prue asked. “As long as he helps us laying hand on the amulet…”
“It is not that simple,” Nahir sighed. “According to Doctor Sagara he is personally involved in this case… because of a mortal woman. I don’t know the details, but I was told that it could make him unpredictable at best.”
“Love usually has that effect,” Prue stole a glance at her sister. “We all fear losing someone who means a lot to us… and are devastated when our fears come true.”
“Why doesn’t he Embrace her then?” Phoebe asked. “That way he could keep her forever.”
Nahir shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. The True Undead are very territorial. Usually there’s only one of them in any given territory; and if another one enters it, they fight to the death for ownership. They wouldn’t be able to remain together if he turned her.”
“That’s sad,” Prue commented. “He’ll lose her in any case, one way or another. I understand why he’d go extreme lengths to protect her.”
Phoebe shrugged. “So what? He’s out like a light for half a day each day. We are not. It would be easy to overwhelm him, should he cause any problems.”
“Except that it would be extremely bad manners to kill an ally – who’s even opened his personal haven for us – in his sleep,” Nahir said dryly. “Not to mention that Doctor Sagara wouldn’t react well to such an action. We’d have the Legacy hunters on our trail in no time, and even I would be hard pressed to deal with them.”
“Oh, come on!” Phoebe rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You’re the oldest, more powerful vampire on this planet; what could they possibly do to harm you?”
“Every dumb farm boy could kill me – all of us – with the help of a canister of petrol and a match if he caught us unawares,” Nahir pointed out. “We are not invincible, despite our powers. And the Legacy hunters know more methods to eliminate us than just petrol and a match. So try to curb your bloodthirsty instincts, Childe, and think before you speak, or you can get us in great trouble – with the very people we are supposed to work with.
Phoebe shut her mouth but her stance practically radiated belligerence. Nahir suppressed a sigh. He’d have to discipline his youngest Childe severely, once they returned to San Francisco. Right now, he needed to make her understand.
“Phoebe,” he began with forced patience, “Doctor Elizabeth Sagara used to be a member of the New York Legacy House. She accepted a teaching job in Toronto right before her House would fall to the Sabbat. She knows more of the things – and creatures – that bump in the night than probably anyone in this city; and she is an old friend of Henry Fitzroy. So, unless you think we should eliminate her, too, I suggest you forget about eliminating him.”
“Besides, we’ve accepted the Embrace to fight evil; not to become evil,” Prue added quietly.
“You accepted it,” Phoebe muttered bitterly. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Still more than I had when you decided that it would be a good idea to cast a spell and turn all three of us into witches,” Prue shot back, her eyes darkening in anger.
Nahir raised his hand in a forbidding gesture. “That is enough, Childer. What is done is done and we have to make the best of it. And now, Phoebe, try to behave like an adult and do what I’ve brought you here for. Tell me what have you felt from Fitzroy.”
He added a strong mental warning with the last sentence and Phoebe cringed, feeling his rising ire. Raising the ire of a thirteen-thousand-year-old Lasombra antitribu wasn’t a wise thing, not even for his Childer.
Especially not for his Childer.
“He was worried,” Phoebe began. “Full of mistrust towards us, which is understandable, but his concern was even stronger. I’d even say that he was desperate.”
“Also understandable when one is about to face down the Great Duke of Hell who rules forty legions,” Prue commented.
“Yes, but there’s more,” Phoebe said. “I perceived feelings of bitterness and betrayal from him, anger and disappointment and… and love. It seemed to be a fierce and unrequited love, but I can’t be sure. The signs are hard to interpret. I didn’t have much time to scan him.”
“Well, you’ll have another chance, soon,” Prue glanced at the wall clock. “Sunset is in twenty minutes”.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
by Soledad
Rating: Teens and above, for some canon-compliant violence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part Two
Coreen Fennel was overwhelmed by a feeling that – under different circumstances – she’d find unworthy any self-respecting Goth: she was fed up to the eyeteeth with the supernatural. But that was understandable, she argued with herself. Being possessed by a demon could do that, even to the most devout Goth.
So yeah, she’d have been happy to quit her job at Nelson Investigations, even if they hadn’t anything else bust the most boring divorce cases in the foreseeable future (Ha! Fat chance for that to happen!), was off her Goth make-up, change her entire garderobe and pick up gardening somewhere in the countryside.
Only she couldn’t do it, could she? Astaroth was still at large, and she was personally responsible for that. The fact that she hadn’t intended to cause it didn’t really matter in the face of the consequences. Vicky, Mike and Henry were no longer in speaking terms, Madame Andrea was dead and Father Cascioli was now possessed by the demon. And it was her fault!
That she had only wanted to help Vicki get a grip on her love life didn’t change the outcome of things.
So no, she couldn’t afford the luxury of backing off. The least she could do was to help Vicki figure out a way to deal with the demon, once and forever.
It was fortunate indeed that she stumbled upon that demon database on the internet… operated by a nun of all people. Or by several nuns? She wasn’t really sure. The earlier entries were authored by somebody called Sr. Grace Cole OSB (after some research she found out, to her disappointment, that the abbreviation simply meant a member of the Benedictine order), the later ones by a M. Verena.
Just like that. No last name, no scientific or religious specifications. Nothing.
Why had there been a change of site administrators Coreen didn’t know and frankly, she didn’t care. What counted was that the nun(s) seemed to know their shit. There were creatures listed (aside from mere demons, werewolves and at least three different kinds of vampires) that she hadn’t even heard of before.
And since the database was meticulously ordered, it didn’t take her long to find the article about Astaroth. It was a long one, started by Sr. Grace and repeatedly updated by half a dozen people, including M. Verena, Rupert Giles, Wesley Wyndham-Price, Anya Jenkins and, as a last entry, by a certain Professor Rudolph Martin, PhD.
It began with a lengthy historical introduction. As a rule Coreen found such things boring, but this time she found she couldn’t afford to ignore it. So she sighed and began to read.
“Astaroth was originally a demonic goddess,” Sr. Grace wrote. “The name is derived from that of the Phoenician goddess Astarte (2nd millennium BC), and equivalent of the Babylonian Ishtar and the earlier Sumerian Inanna…”
There came an extremely detailed explanation of how the original name became distorted through translation into Hebrew, then into ancient Greek and Latin. She quickly scanned this part as it obviously didn’t contain any useful information.
Useful for her, that is.
It took several pages until she reached something that seemed at least a little familiar, written in a pedantic, academic manner by somebody called Rupert Giles.
“The name Astaroth as a male demon is first known from The Book of Abramelin, written in Hebrew around 1458, and recurred in most occult grimoires of the following centuries. Astaroth also features as an arch-demon associated to the glipshoth (adverse forces) according to later Kabbalistic texts.”
“Now we’re were getting somewhere,” Coreen muttered. She didn’t really know what the Kabbala was (meaning: not at all!), but the article offered several promising links, and she started clicking through them, one after another.
The further she got, the faster did she lose all remaining hope.
If the experts of the Demon Database were right – and she didn’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be – then not even Henry could stand a chance, once the demon had grown into his full strength. Their divided little group might have some time left, but not much. And even as things stood now, their chances were slim at best.
And that slim chance could only work if they put aside their grievances and worked together again. Even if only for one last time.
But who would make the all-deciding first step? Vicki and the two guys were all too proud for their own good. Besides, she, Coreen, had to make amends, had she not? What was her pride compared with the importance of the gargantuan task at their hands?
That decided, the only remaining question was: whom should she call first?
Fortunately, the chance was taken out of her hand when her cell phone rang. With guilt mixed with relief did she recognize the number: it was Henry’s.
“Coreen, we need to talk; in person,” the vampire said without preamble as soon as she answered his call.
She was so surprised that she could barely answer. She thought she’d be the last person Henry would want to see. Ever.
“Sure; I was about to call you anyway,” she finally managed; it wasn’t a lie, not exactly. “You see, I’ve found this demon database on the internet, and it’s really cool, these people know theirs tuff, but…” she ran out of breath, and after a pause she added glumly. “But I really think we’ve got a problem here. A bigger one than we’ve ever thought.”
“I know,” Henry replied. “I’ve just got an unexpected visit from some experts… but I’d like you to check a few things for me. Just so that I can be reasonably sure they’re telling me the truth.”
“Of course, Henry, I can do that,” Coreen was immensely relieved by the chance to actually do something. Something useful. “What do you need?”
“Everything you can find about an ancient Sumerian goddess named Inanna,” the vampire said. “Especially any possible connection between her and Astaroth. And everything you can find out about a certain Professor Rudolph Martin. I’ve already done some internet research on him, but the results are sparse at best. Perhaps your… special skills can prove useful in this case.”
The emphasis revealed that he was meaning her skills as a hacker. She giggled nervously.
“I’ll give my best, I promise! But Henry, the guy you’ve asked about… I’ve found several articles in the demon database I mentioned that were written by him. So whoever he might be, he knows a lot about such things.”
“Well…” Henry said slowly, “that is reassuring… to an extent.”
“It is?” Coreen wasn’t sure she understood what he was hinting at; all right, she didn’t have the faintest idea, but it was always wise to admit one’s complete ignorance. “Well, I’ve been doing a bit of research of my own when you called, and I’ve just read some stuff on this Inanna chick… funny coincidence, isn’t it?”
“If you believe in coincidences,” the vampire replied dryly. “Found anything interesting?”
“Not really, but I was mostly looking for stuff about Astaroth. Is there anything you want to know specifically?”
“Yes. There’s an amulet in the Royal Ontario Museum, some artefact found at an excavation site fifty or so years ago. It’s supposedly Sumerian – which is why it isn’t in any of the displays – and once belonged to the Eanna Temple in Uruk. It’s supposed to be thirteen thousand years old. I’d like to know, if it’s possible to find out, what its purpose might have been.”
Coreen’s heart sank. History really, really wasn’t her forte; quite frankly, she found it deadly boring, unless it had any connection to the occult. But she was good at internet research, and she owed Henry all the help she could offer.
“That’s a tough one, but I see what I can do,” she promised. “Do you want me to mail you the results?”
“Actually, I’d prefer if you could bring them in person,” Henry replied. “I’m having a meeting with those experts tomorrow, and I’d like to have someone to watch my back.”
Coreen blinked a few times. This was actually flattering. In fact, it was the most flattering thing Henry ever said to her.
“Well, sure,” she said as soon as the moment of bafflement was over. “But are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Vicki there?”
“No!” Henry said promptly. “I don’t want these people to see her marks. I don’t even want them to know of her; not until I can be certain that they wouldn’t stab us in the back.”
“If you’re so unsure about them why are you working with them in the first place?” Coreen asked in understandable confusion. It was uncharacteristic for Henry to work with people he didn’t trust.
“Because they actually might be able to help,” the vampire answered grimly. “And because I’m desperate.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“So, what do you think about our host?” Nahir asked his Childer on the next day. The undead prince was in day-sleep, unaware of his surroundings (a specific weakness of his kind), so they could discuss things without being overheard.
“Well, he’s pretty,” Phoebe said with a saucy grin. Nahir rolled his eyes.
“Aside from that. I haven’t brought you with me to drool over his looks but to monitor his emotional state. You are the empath; the rest of us can’t do it.”
He knew it was a risk to bring Phoebe when they were about to battle a powerful demon. Since her involvement with Belthazor, she was particularly vulnerable to demonic influences, even after her Embrace and Becoming. But she was the only one of the Halliwell sisters with empathic powers and premonition; they needed her.”
“Sire, why is important for us the emotional state of Mr. Fitzroy?” Prue asked. “As long as he helps us laying hand on the amulet…”
“It is not that simple,” Nahir sighed. “According to Doctor Sagara he is personally involved in this case… because of a mortal woman. I don’t know the details, but I was told that it could make him unpredictable at best.”
“Love usually has that effect,” Prue stole a glance at her sister. “We all fear losing someone who means a lot to us… and are devastated when our fears come true.”
“Why doesn’t he Embrace her then?” Phoebe asked. “That way he could keep her forever.”
Nahir shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. The True Undead are very territorial. Usually there’s only one of them in any given territory; and if another one enters it, they fight to the death for ownership. They wouldn’t be able to remain together if he turned her.”
“That’s sad,” Prue commented. “He’ll lose her in any case, one way or another. I understand why he’d go extreme lengths to protect her.”
Phoebe shrugged. “So what? He’s out like a light for half a day each day. We are not. It would be easy to overwhelm him, should he cause any problems.”
“Except that it would be extremely bad manners to kill an ally – who’s even opened his personal haven for us – in his sleep,” Nahir said dryly. “Not to mention that Doctor Sagara wouldn’t react well to such an action. We’d have the Legacy hunters on our trail in no time, and even I would be hard pressed to deal with them.”
“Oh, come on!” Phoebe rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You’re the oldest, more powerful vampire on this planet; what could they possibly do to harm you?”
“Every dumb farm boy could kill me – all of us – with the help of a canister of petrol and a match if he caught us unawares,” Nahir pointed out. “We are not invincible, despite our powers. And the Legacy hunters know more methods to eliminate us than just petrol and a match. So try to curb your bloodthirsty instincts, Childe, and think before you speak, or you can get us in great trouble – with the very people we are supposed to work with.
Phoebe shut her mouth but her stance practically radiated belligerence. Nahir suppressed a sigh. He’d have to discipline his youngest Childe severely, once they returned to San Francisco. Right now, he needed to make her understand.
“Phoebe,” he began with forced patience, “Doctor Elizabeth Sagara used to be a member of the New York Legacy House. She accepted a teaching job in Toronto right before her House would fall to the Sabbat. She knows more of the things – and creatures – that bump in the night than probably anyone in this city; and she is an old friend of Henry Fitzroy. So, unless you think we should eliminate her, too, I suggest you forget about eliminating him.”
“Besides, we’ve accepted the Embrace to fight evil; not to become evil,” Prue added quietly.
“You accepted it,” Phoebe muttered bitterly. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Still more than I had when you decided that it would be a good idea to cast a spell and turn all three of us into witches,” Prue shot back, her eyes darkening in anger.
Nahir raised his hand in a forbidding gesture. “That is enough, Childer. What is done is done and we have to make the best of it. And now, Phoebe, try to behave like an adult and do what I’ve brought you here for. Tell me what have you felt from Fitzroy.”
He added a strong mental warning with the last sentence and Phoebe cringed, feeling his rising ire. Raising the ire of a thirteen-thousand-year-old Lasombra antitribu wasn’t a wise thing, not even for his Childer.
Especially not for his Childer.
“He was worried,” Phoebe began. “Full of mistrust towards us, which is understandable, but his concern was even stronger. I’d even say that he was desperate.”
“Also understandable when one is about to face down the Great Duke of Hell who rules forty legions,” Prue commented.
“Yes, but there’s more,” Phoebe said. “I perceived feelings of bitterness and betrayal from him, anger and disappointment and… and love. It seemed to be a fierce and unrequited love, but I can’t be sure. The signs are hard to interpret. I didn’t have much time to scan him.”
“Well, you’ll have another chance, soon,” Prue glanced at the wall clock. “Sunset is in twenty minutes”.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
