PFSB: Milliways

[riddleofthebelow]

Tom needed his camera to take yet more pictures of his adorable children, and when he fetched it the evening before, he found something odd he can't explain. It's not a bad odd thing. It's just a puzzling odd thing.

Ingress has some explaining to do.  Or Wei Wuxian. Either one.

So Tom's at a table at Milliways, with an eyebrow raised, and wouldn't mind some company.

Comments

[riddleofthebelow]

"We had families stay with us in suites of rooms; a cavalier would not be a problem to accommodate."

[we_bring_hell]

"Then by all means," she says. "It would be appreciated."


A hesitation. "If anything happens to me, Gideon may need a place of safety. I hope that the privilege would still be extended to her without me. She is the finest swordswoman the Ninth has produced in many years, gifted with both the rapier and the broadsword, and would be a credit to your House as she has been to ours. If it came to that."

Harrow's composure does not rate up there with the all-time greats, such as Moiraine. But in this moment she is stone.

[riddleofthebelow]

"If it came to that, then it sounds like she would, indeed, be an asset. You needn't worry. She would have the refuge she needs."

[we_bring_hell]

The black line of her lips curves faintly. "It is very well. Then may the House of the Ninth be allied to the House of Arch. How are such things sealed in the Underside?"

[riddleofthebelow]

He recalls hot blood dripping between clasped hands and traces the scars across his palms. Harrow would likely approve of the ways the House brings in new members of its family.

He extends his hand to her. “A handshake will suffice. And then I can key you to the portal painting and a few of our common rooms, like the library you’ve already visited.”

[we_bring_hell]

She inclines her head again, and extends a pale bony hand.

"I shall inform you if we wish to take up residence."

[riddleofthebelow]

He solemnly shakes her frail hand.

“Brilliant. I should like to meet Gideon, at some point, of course. If Ingress didn’t show you how to move through the paintings of the House, I’d like to instruct you both.”

[we_bring_hell]

"I believe she is availing herself of the ironmongery available in the forge," she says.

"Lady Ingress took me through a few rooms, but I am not sure I understood the principle."

[riddleofthebelow]

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” he assures her. Ironmongery is important, he knows.

“The House of Arch is an associative house, which means its rooms come from across the Underside - and across time and memory - and are linked together. Openers can move from one room to another with ease through the paintings that symbolize each one. For guests, Door and I have combined our magical systems to allow access.”

[we_bring_hell]

"I see," she says. "How fascinating."

"These rooms, and the places of London Below--I understand they are lost places? Forgotten?"

[riddleofthebelow]

"Yes. They, and the buildings housing them, may have been demolished on the surface, but they filter down to London Below, and we find them to use them again."

[we_bring_hell]

"'Nine is for the Tomb, and all that was lost,'" she quotes.

"A fitting alliance."

[riddleofthebelow]

"Indeed." He's always pleased when connections between lives and worlds line up like this. It gives him a sense of comfort, in a strange way, that one is never truly alone.

"On occasion, I've assisted others with problems that need solving on their home worlds. It might be considered cheating, to influence affairs like so, but I see it as a logical conclusion. If you're here, you might as well take advantage of any help that comes your way. I cannot go to your world, because of my duties, but if you need an item or a spell or some kind of charm for protection - that I can possibly provide."

[we_bring_hell]

"I rarely let lie an advantage," she assures him. "May I ask what your areas of expertise are?"

"I have several pieces of the puzzle before me now, and must only understand them or how they fit together."

[riddleofthebelow]

“My magical mastery is in transfiguration - creating something out of nothing, or changing physical forms to entirely different appearances and uses.”

He grins. “And I love solving puzzles.”

[we_bring_hell]

"Hm," she says. "A shame it isn't spirit magic. Although--" She pats herself down, but her journal is upstairs. "Damn."

"Lord Ostium, would you accompany me to the library?"

[riddleofthebelow]

“The one here? Certainly. I’ve the time.”

[we_bring_hell]

She brings him upstairs into a small room like a graduate student's cubicle or a tiny office. Her attempt to export her tangled mind onto the wall is only just begun, with seven index cards arranged in a rough circle. Some of them are packed tight with close handwriting, others have only a few words, and one is blank. There is a gap for a Ninth one.

Her journal, wrapped in that disturbing yellowish leather, is here too.

She reaches for the card pinned with a large purple pin--one of the more brief ones--and unsticks it from the wall. "This is a theorem for--I believe--a genetic chimerism. Flesh magic is not my preference," she says with a moue of disgust.

[riddleofthebelow]

“Good thing you have allies for whom it is,” he jokes, taking the card to study it.

“The combination of two separated into one. The results tend to be monstrous in the Wizarding world.”

[we_bring_hell]

"The theorem seems to explain the methodology for consuming the genetic code of another creature and incorporating it into yourself, if I understand it. I can draw the spiral and explain more--it may be opaque in our notation."

[riddleofthebelow]

“Do, please. The concept is a familiar one. There’s a specific potion, the purpose of which is to physically change a person into a different form. The charm work aids the deception, but the alteration is at a molecular level. It’s not long lived, but it may be comparable as a basis.”

[we_bring_hell]

"Interesting," she says, turning to a blank page and free-handing a spiral. She's drawn a lot of circles. A lot.

"I did not perform the trial for this key; my ally of the Sixth shared the theorem with me." She wishes she had seen the study attached to the theorem, but the price--letting Sextus see the same for her discoveries--was too steep.

"It bears a marked similarity to a theorem for regeneration that I discovered, but it also involves the ingestion of a foreign element. You see, the spiral begins here--"

She traces the steps.

(Tom's comparison to Polyjuice potion is not far off, but this is permanent and far more subtle--the foreign genetics are implanted into the target's, but would only be expressed in nervous tissue and areas with a dense amount of nerves, such as the eyes.)

[riddleofthebelow]

He watches and glances over to the other notes pinned to the wall.

“Does each House have its own theorem and trial to obtain it?”

[we_bring_hell]

"Precisely," she says. "This is the theorem of the Third House; they are flesh magicians."

"I have begun to find some patterns and linkages." She takes rubber bands from her box and stretches one between the red pin and the brown one. "One of these theorems holds a soul in place so it does not pass into the River immediately, and one allows the adept to link into another nervous system."

"And this one changes the nature of the flesh, while this one--" She points to a black pin-- "Regenerates the flesh, spreading the change throughout the body and protecting it from injury."

She taps the blue pin. "I do not understand this one fully, but it involves doing something to the soul as well. A splitting? A fraying?"

[riddleofthebelow]

“Ah.”

Yes. He could speak to his world’s correlation to that easily enough, even though it makes him somewhat queasy to think about what Voldemort did to his soul. And to him.

“In the Wizarding world, you can forcibly remove a piece of your soul through acts of murder, turning it into a Horcrux. The Horcrux is combined into another object or creature. Once hidden thusly, the owner of the fractured soul has the fragments to rely upon should death destroy the rest. In other words, a chance at immortality.”