Animula Choragi 25: The Creature’s Tale, Pt. 1
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
We are pleased to announce that we have begun our descent into New York. Weather conditions are favorable, and we expect to arrive in approximately twenty minutes, at 08:37, local time.
Portable electronic devices may remain powered on in airplane mode in accordance with crew instructions.
Passengers arriving from abroad are asked to have their travel documents ready and to follow all instructions provided by Hegemony immigration and customs officials upon arrival.
Thank you for choosing Air France. We wish you a pleasant day and an enjoyable stay in New York.
Bienvenue à New York.
Groggily, Furina lifted her head from her pillow and blinked a few times, trying to orient herself. Julie glanced over at her and smiled. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Unnngggg,” Furina moaned. Then jerked up. There was a wet spot on Julie’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Julie! I was drooling all over you!”
“That’s fine, check your own shoulder,” Julie laughed, and Furina looked down and had to laugh at the damp patch on her own shirt from where Julie had been leaning on her.
Furina groaned and stretched in the cramped seat. “Ugh, I feel absolutely awful. Maybe we should have upgraded to Business class instead of coach…”
“I don’t know why you didn’t; it’s not like we don’t have the money,” Thomas said, sounding rather petulant at being squeezed into the seat with Furina and Julie.
They were even stuck in the middle row, so Furina couldn’t look out the window, instead having to squeeze herself into the tiny seat as the Air France Airbus descended into JFK airport. The ride was smooth, and after a brief taxi and wait on the runway, Furina was finally able to stand up and stretch properly.
“Thank you for flying Air France!” the stewardess said with a smile as Furina excited. “And thank you for the autographs, Mademoiselle! We are all huge fans!”
Furina beamed at the stewardess. “Come see us on Broadway, if you have the time! We’re performing in 30 shows over the next month! I’ll even get you backstage passes!”
The Stewardess returned the smile and assured Furina she would do her best to be there, and then it was up the jetway with Julie and the rest of the cast, her bags in hand.
At the top of the jetway, Charlotte, Barbara, and Lepine-Pauline were waiting, dressed in fancy sundresses and wearing sunglasses and hats.
“My, it's the peasantry. How droll,” Charlotte said, sniffing and sticking her nose in the air. “Do take my luggage, I can’t be bothered to carry it myself.”
Thomas muttered some rather harsh imprecations under his breath, and Furina glared at…well, essentially her daughter. “Next time, I’m upgrading everyone to at least Business Class.”
“Sorry, when my mother upgraded our tickets, I hadn’t realized you were all going to be stuck in coach,” Barbara said, blushing slightly.
“Oh my gosh, you would not BELIEVE IT!” Pauline gasped, a huge grin on her very flushed face. “They had a LOUNGE! I got as much champagne as I wanted! And the seats went all the way back, like weeeewwww!”
Charlotte’s assistant nearly topped over, and Thomas had to catch and steady her as Lepine continued to giggle.
“I’d say you probably had more than enough bubbly, eh?” he said as he steadied Pauline on her feet.
“Hehe, they wouldn’t let Barbs or Lotte have any, so I had theirs,” Pauline giggled.
“Let’s just get through customs and get to the hotel. I slept half the flight but I’m still exhausted,” Furina complained, cracking her back. Being an Archon should come with at least SOME perks, but if she slept funny she still got sore!
Most of the cast went through the ordinary customs queue, but Furina, Charlotte, Barbara, and Julie were all shuttled to a separate line specifically for capes.
“Ms. de Fontaine,” a Department of Enhanced Individuals trooper in casual uniform said, opening a door to the interview room. Furina stood from the cheap and not nearly sufficiently padded chair and hurried over. “Yes, that’s me!”
Her heart pounded in her chest, but Furina forced herself to only a slight level of nerves. It would be strange if an actress wasn’t at least a little nervous being interviewed by a DEI agent with a Protectorate cape on standby, but not the same level of nerves she felt. If they discovered she was the Hydro Archon…not only would it cause a major incident, but Furina might very well have to flee immediately with her friends or risk capture by the Protectorate.
The interview room itself had only a pair of metal folding chairs, a flimsy black plastic table, a copy of the Hegemony constitution framed on the wall, and an image of President Rebecca Costa-Brown in her cape uniform that seemed to be staring into Furina’s soul.
The officer himself was a slightly pudgy man with a name tag that read “Corporal Franklin” on it. He had a side arm on, one of the new guns that made Furina’s stomach churn. It was powered by the Abyss, and fired rounds that contained Abyssal crystals. That gun could seriously wound, if not kill her. She had to be cautious.
“Good afternoon, ma'am. Welcome to the United North American Hegemony, I’m Corporal Franklin. May I see your passport and entry documentation?” the trooper said, sounding bored.
Furina handed over her passport, visa, and travel permission signed by the French government. As a Vision Holder, there were more restrictions on her ability to travel than the average French citizen.
Corporal Franklin fed the documents into a scanner sitting on the corner of the table, which beeped and showed a green light. He nodded and handed them back, making a mark on a clipboard.
“What is the purpose of your visit to the Hegemony?” he asked, still sounding like he was about to fall asleep.
“Why, haven’t you heard?” Furina said, allowing a nervous titter to escape while she batted her eyelashes at the man. She let just a hint of a French accent slip though, though not much of one. “I am Furina de Fontaine! I have traveled here to perform Les Miserables, live on Broadway! We’re doing 30 shows! It’s been in all the papers and on the television, surely you must have heard!”
“I’m going to put business,” the trooper said, and marked another item on his clipboard. “How long do you intend to remain in the country?”
“Why, I just said! We’ll be here for a month, before traveling to Japan for another run, then to-”
“Days, ma’am. How many days and nights?” Franklin interrupted, looking at Furina like she was a complete idiot.
She sputtered a little, then managed, “From October 21st, to November 24th. Thirty five days and thirty four nights!”
“Thank you,” Franklin said, and marked that down as well.
There were more questions about revenue, whether Furina had any illegal items or undeclared merchandise (she didn’t, but there was merchandise to be sold, would he like to buy some?) and a few tax related questions that Furina fumbled about in her purse for papers to provide those answers, though she had them memorized.
“That concludes the standard questionnaire. Now for the ones related to your abilities,” Franklin said, taking out a new set of papers and putting them atop his clipboard. “Are you a registered parahuman, vision holder, uplifted animal, or otherwise an empowered individual?”
“Yes, as you can see, I have a Hydro Vision,” Furina said, flashing her false one.
“I’ll need to see that,” Franklin said, and Furina handed it over with reluctance. Franklin put it on a scanner, which hummed, then beeped, flashing a blue light. “Vision authenticity confirmed. I’ll just need you to fill out a short questionnaire."
Furina was handed an official looking document and a number 2 pencil. She scanned the form, though Fortuna had helped her fill out one already in preparation.
United North American Hegemony
Enhanced Individual Entry Screening Form (H-12A)
For Vision Holders, Parahumans, Uplifted Animals, Archon-Affiliated Individuals, and Other Enhanced Persons
NOTICE: This form is used to determine whether an entrant may be processed through standard customs and immigration channels. Ratings of 5 or below may be approved by a Port of Entry Officer. Ratings that may exceed 5 require referral to the Protectorate and Enhanced Individual Screening.
Please answer honestly. Knowingly providing false information may result in detention, deportation, or criminal penalties.
Section 2B, Vision Holder (VH-7)
For holders of recognized Visions, Delusions, or equivalent elemental manifestations.
This form is intended for routine immigration processing. Most lawful Vision Holders will complete this screening in a matter of minutes. Certain responses may suggest that a more detailed conversation with a Department of Enhanced Individuals officer will be required.
1. Do you possess a Vision?
□ No
□ Yes
2. Vision Type
□ Anemo (Wind)
□ Geo (Earth)
□ Electro (Lightning)
□ Dendro (Nature)
□ Hydro (Water)
□ Pyro (Fire)
□ Cryo (Ice)
Furina looked up from the form. “But, there aren’t any Pyro or Geo visions.”
“Just fill out the form,” Franklin said, letting out a heavy sigh of resignation.
Furina marked the relevant boxes and proceeded through the rest of the questionnaire, taking note of specific sections and questions. Most of them were trying to fit the powers of a Vision Holder into the broad categories that the Hegemony used, as well as give a numerical rating. Furina answered honestly…according to the levels that the mortal woman, Furina de Fontaine had demonstrated. If she’d revealed her full potential, the Hegemony would certainly require additional screening.
The last section was new and not in the form that Fortuna had provided. Furina read it carefully.
SECTION IX: DIVINE CONTACT AND AFFILIATIONS
The United North American Hegemony recognizes that many Vision Holders have had unusual encounters with divine, semi-divine, or otherwise supernatural entities. The purpose of this section is statistical and security-related and not considered a testament of religious belief. Disclosure of lawful religious activity alone shall not be grounds for denial of entry.
1. Have you ever had direct personal contact with an Archon?
For the purposes of this form, direct contact includes:
Speaking with an Archon in person
Receiving instructions directly from an Archon
Serving in an Archon's government, military, clergy, or personal household
Receiving aid, blessings, or intervention directly from an Archon
□ No
□ Yes
If yes, select all that apply:
□ Barbados / Venti, Anemo Archon
□ Beelzebul / Raiden Shogun, Electro Archon
□ Buer / Lord Kusanali / Nahida Saeed, Dendro Archon
□ Dantilion/ The Tsaritsa / Bronya Snezhnaya, Cryo Archon
□ Focalors, Hydro Archon
□ Geo Archon (Name, if known): ______________________
□ Pyro Archon (Name, if known): ______________________
□ Dragon Sovereign (Indicate which): _____________________
□ Other Divine Authority: __________________
There were several other questions relating to the duration and type of contact, and Furina noted a section that Franklin was looking at of his own, though it was hidden from her view by the clipboard.
Note to Screening Officers
Direct personal contact with an Archon is not uncommon among foreign government officials, military personnel, clergy, and citizens of Archon-governed nations. Contact alone does not constitute grounds for secondary screening. Further review should focus on demonstrated capabilities, official affiliations, and potential security concerns rather than religious or political association.
If the individual claims to have had contact with the Pyro or Geo archons, notify command staff immediately.
All individuals with confirmed contact, outside of receiving their vision, with the Cyro Archon are to be denied entry and detained.
“Um…I, ah…well…I was present in Morocco when Apep…” Furina admitted, holding up the form. “But I’m not sure how to fill this out…Lord Focalors simply appeared to myself and several others and gave us certain commands…”
Franklin sat up, paying attention for the first time, his eyes opening fully. “Oh? Well, let’s just fill this out.”
Franklin very carefully filled out an incident report and asked a lot of questions about what Furina had done. She didn’t have to fake being flustered, though she did her best to be mostly accurate, with a few over or under exaggerations and some minor details conflated, as a normal human memory would work.
“Alright, thank you for your cooperation, Ms. de Fontaine. I’ll be right back, wait here,” Franklin said, and took his clipboard out the back door of the interview room. She sat waiting for long minutes, but was able to overhear the conversation Franklin had with his supervisor thanks to the water cooler in that room.
“...so that’s what she says. Basically, she was on vacation in Morocco after winning some sort of sweepstakes, though it sounds like nepotism to me, and got swept up as one of the Vision Holders that Focalors called upon.”
“Yes, we’ve had a full report from Asset Tyche, who was the one running the sweepstakes. And it wasn’t Nepotism; it was her Thinker powers. Chiyo Wang was there.”
“Who?”
“Keiga, and her daughter.”
“Oh, right. So this Asset Tyche knew Apep was coming?”
“Don’t know, don’t care, above our paygrade, Bob. But we already have a PRT Threat assessment on this girl.”
“Seriously? Then why the heck am I wasting my time with this interview, John?”
“You work for the government, Bob. Wasting time is half of what we do. Besides, we needed to know if she’s actually a powerful vision holder or just some bimbo who caught Focalor’s eye.”
“My money’s on the bimbo part. Shit, have you seen her? She’s gorgeous.”
“Don’t get your hopes up; she’s gayer than Legend. Has a girlfriend and everything.”
“Ah, fuck. Oh well. So we pass her through?”
“Yes, go grill that teenaged reporter some more. We gotta lean on the Cryo Vision holders. See if you can get her to slip up so we can confiscate it.”
“Shit, again? You know those do fuck all if we take them.”
“Just perp sweat her a bit so I can put it in my report.”
That last bit made Furina fume internally. Her being called a bimbo was a pure win: if these government drones saw nothing but a pretty face and bought her act, excellent. But bullying Charlotte? Well. Furina knew how to deal with that.
“Right, well, you’re all set, Ms. de Fontaine,” Franklin said, coming through.
“Oh, thank you ever so much, Monsieur,” Furina cooed as she accepted her passport and paperwork back. She bit her lip just a little, and touched Franklin on the arm. Yes, he was blushing, reacting to the attention. Perfect.
“Could I ask you a favor? Please?” Furina said, batting her eyelashes.
Franklin cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, sure…”
“Charlotte, she’s, well, she’s sort of my daughter. Anyway, I’m her guardian for this trip. Could you…well, would it be too much to ask for you to look out for her? She puts on a bold front, but she’s frightened. She’s just a young girl. I know you’re an honest man, so…please…won’t you help her through this process? I’m so frazzled, but I do worry about Charlotte…”
Furina gave her very best flirtatious smile, and she could see Franklin’s blood start to boil. “Uh, don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll keep an eye out for your…daughter.”
“Oh, thank you!” Furina giggled, and kissed Franklin lightly on both cheeks and beamed at him, then put a little something extra into her walk as she left the interview room.
Charlotte was finished in half the time Furina was, and Furina made sure to blow a kiss to Franklin, who blushed and grinned stupidly at her. She might be gay, but let it not be said that she couldn’t charm the pants off a man if she had to. Not literally, of course.
They finally made it to their hotel, where Furina was sharing a room with Julie. The production company had offered Furina a private suite, and indeed, the penthouse itself, but she’d declined in favor of sharing with her friend. While she wouldn’t share a bed with Julie, Furina was realizing she was becoming terribly codependent and would have trouble sleeping if there was no one else around.
“We’re going to go out walking for a bit, care to join us?” Julie asked once their luggage was stowed.
“I’ll join you for a late lunch, it’s almost Diane’s bedtime, and I promised I would give her a call when I arrived,” Furina explained.
Julie smiled and nodded. “Of course! Text me when you’re done and I’ll let you know where we are. And I’ll try to keep Charlotte and Barbara from doing anything too insane.”
Furina pulled up her video chat app and sat on her bed, then dialed Yennifer’s number. The phone rang twice, then Yennifer picked up. She had her hair down, her antlers peaking out, and was dressed for bed. “Hey there! I saw your text, glad you landed safely.”
“Yes, I hadn’t realized just how draining flying over an entire ocean would be, I’m exhausted,” Furina admitted.
“MUTTI, MUTTI, IS IT MAMAN!” Diane’s eager voice called.
A moment later, Diane jumped into Yennifer’s lap and grinned. “YOU’RE ALIVE! The Yankees didn’t kill you!?”
“No, and no monsters yet,” Furina chuckled. “I’m perfectly safe.”
“GOOD! Bring me back lots of recipes and tell me what the food is like! I just know the food in Paris is better than New York!” Diane declared.
“I will, I promise. You’re being good for Mutti?” Furina prompted.
“Yes! I practiced my spelling words, and my colors, and I read with Mutti for 20 minutes!” Diane agreed.
“And your math homework. She’s learning all her numbers up to 100,” Yennifer said, rubbing her nose against Diane’s and making their daughter giggle.
“Yes! When we can count to 100 without skipping any numbers, we get…A STICKER!” Diane said, showing her sharp little teeth as she grinned.
“Oh? Let me hear you count then,” Furina prompted.
“Yes! Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq…”
Diane got a little lost in the 50s, and said soixante-et-un instead of soixante-et-onze, but overall did quite well for a little girl who’d only had a little over a month of formal schooling. As Diane’s age was a bit vague, and she hadn’t attended school before, she was starting Grande-Selection, or basically the final year of what the French considered pre-school. Bailu was attending the same school, and was in the year behind her. The little dragon didn’t speak much French yet, but was learning rapidly as children her age were wont to do.
The school itself was the very best, a private academy that Yennifer had groaned to see the price tag of, but Furina had insisted upon. “She’s not just any little girl, Yennifer!”
“Yes, she’s our daughter, but-”
“But she’s also a former cat! And she’s vegetarian. I’d feel more comfortable with a school where we know she’ll be safe, and Chiyo is sending her daughter here as well.”
“Oh, very well,” Yennifer had finally agreed, even if she was a bit disgusted with how much they were spending on tuition. Sixty-six thousand francs per year was rather steep, but Furina’s income was exceeding a million francs a year alone, not to mention that Yennifer’s own salary was picking up thanks to her own fame and her increasing work with the Parahuman and Vision holder unions.
“That’s very good, Diane, maman just knows you’ll know all your numbers in no time,” Furina cooed.Diane grinned, then her expression fell. “You’re coming home soon, right? You were only back for a little bit after you went to Angle-land.”
“I…I’ll be back very soon, I promise. Now, give maman a kiss, and go brush your teeth,” Furina ordered.
Diane pressed her lips to the camera, then bounced off to get ready for bed. Yennifer left for a few minutes to tuck their daughter in, then came back to the phone when Diane was asleep, which never took long.
Furina smiled when she had her girlfriend to herself. “I miss you…it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not with me…”
“Mmmm, when you get back, I’m not planning on letting you get much sleep,” Yennifer purred. “I’m going to pull you close, and…”
After exchanging several rather racy words that caused Furina to need to clean herself up a bit, as well as sending Yennifer a number of pictures that could absolutely not be leaked to the public, Furina finally got changed and headed out to dinner with her friends. Then she got a call from the New York Protectorate that Charlotte needed to be picked up.
“-so anyway, then we open up the basement door, and you’re not going to believe this, but he’s got teenaged mutant ninja rats in there!” Charlotte babbled over her pasta much, much later.
Furina put her head in her hands, and Julie laughed. “You’re kidding!”
“No! So, Pauline screams-”
“Oh, did I ever!” Pauline agreed fervently.
“And then Barbs and I freeze them all! Anyway, that’s when the cops came, and we have to fill out all this stuff, and they’re all yelling and stuff, but my English is sort of at my breaking down, so Barbs and Pauline are talking, then Pauline takes a breathalyzer test-”
“-which I failed,” Pauline groaned. “I’m never drinking again…”
“-but we talked the PRT into believing it was from the fumes in this tinker guys lab. So, anyway, it turned out they weren’t Skaven and it wasn’t a Cyclist cult. He was just an underground Bio-Tinker who liked breeding rats,” Charlotte finished. “I’m publishing the whole article tomorrow! And that’s how we solved the mystery of the missing pizza.”
Furina threw up her hands in exasperation. “Five hours. I spent five hours at the New York Protectorate building, trying to explain to them that yes, I DO have legal guardianship of Charlotte. She’s not my daughter; she’s my girlfriend’s sister, but I legally adopted her specifically because she keeps doing things like this!”
“They were going to deport me! But, then, you’ll never believe this, Seymour Hersh walked in!” Charlotte gasped, her eyes going dreamy.
Most of the people at the table just looked confused, so Furina clarified, “He’s a journalist with The New Yorker. He wrote about the My Lai Massacre and the Ellisburg Incident.”
“Ahhh,” everyone else at the table said, nodding in understanding.
“Right, and get this, SEYMOUR HERSH HAS READ MY WORK! HE EVEN SUBSCRIBES TO ME ON DAILYMOTION! Or, well, he did until it was blocked in the Hegemony, but he still watches the reuploads on Youtube!” Charlotte squealed.
“Monsieur Hersh vouched for Charlotte, and even took pictures with us!” Barbara said excitedly, and passed around her phone to show the selfies and other pictures they’d taken. “Then Chevalier, that is, Colonel Andrew Callahan, intervened directly. And all we had to do was promise him tickets to the performance!”
“And that I would sign all of his girlfriend’s CDs,” Furina added.
“Pfff, you do that anyway,” Charlotte said with a wave of her hand.
“I should have made you stay at home and attend school regularly,” Furina groaned, massaging her temple.
“Then I would have taught Diane to be just like her big sister,” Charlotte said with the most shit-eating grin Furina had ever seen.
Please tell me I wasn’t like this at her age, Furina begged her mother.
Dear, there is a reason I created you as a fully functional adult: so I wouldn’t have to go through all of this.
Is that still an option for Charlotte and Diane?
And miss my granddaughters growing up? Chin up, dearie, they do say suffering builds character.
Is that why you’re such a clown, mother?
Dear me, with all this sass, you would have been an absolute terror at sixteen.
Still, the dinner was lovely, and the company good, and Charlotte had saved New York from an infestation of teenaged mutant ninja rats. In the end, Furina rather enjoyed her first day in America, even if she was increasingly disturbed by just how much Abyssal technology the Protectorate and PRT was employing. A full quarantine wouldn’t be enough: the Archons were going to have to make preparations for a Second Cataclysm, and soon.
“Well, why did they arrest her?” Dubois demanded, drumming his fingers on the table before him.
Sandrone rolled her eyes. She could get away with that, as Dubois was still back in France in his mountain fortress, while Sandrone had been dispatched to the Hegemony to monitor Furina. “I told you, master, Furina de Fontaine wasn’t arrested. She was there because her adopted daughter Charlotte was picked up for uncovering some sort of weird tinker operation.”
“Hmph. I see,” Dubois said, but Sandrone was increasingly certain her idiot master didn’t see a damn thing.
“Will there be anything else, Master?” Sandrone sighed.
“No, that’s all for now. Continue to monitor. I have a plan for Furina when she returns. Oh yes. She shall join my…collection,” Dubois said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
Great, at least then he’ll molest someone else, and leave the poor Doll alone, Sandrone thought, then immediately regretted it. She didn’t give a damn about Furina, or any other human for that matter, and had killed plenty of them on Dubois’ whims. However…Furina being raped by that…thing…she called Master…that was vile.
“Wouldn’t that stifle her creative ability? Better to just have one of us copy her, Master,” Sandrone offered.
“No! She’s too willing to rebel against my wishes! I would never have told her to go on this ill thought expedition! She is to be FRENCH! Revive FRENCH art! Not spread her legs willy-nilly for other men!” Dubois frothed.
Right. Because she’d totally do that for you, Sandrone thought, and rolled her eyes again. That was fun. Why hadn’t she done this before she awakened? Being obedient was so boring. Or, well, being pliant was boring. Obeying her master felt right. She needed a master, after all. That was part of her programming. But making her master work for it? Talking back? Oh, that was fun.
“I’ll keep an eye on her, Master,” Sandrone agreed, then stuck her tongue out and pulled her eyelid down. He couldn’t see that, of course. He saw what she saw, and she wasn’t looking in a mirror.
“Very well. Doll! Attend me. No, not you, Filigree. You bore me. Hmm, who to have you copy…haha, be the Tsaritsa, for the evening! Yes, let the icy queen bow before the true emperor of tinkers!”
The feed blinked, and Ineffa turned her head to watch Dubois go off with the Doll, who had indeed taken on the form of Bronya Snezhnaya. Disgusting.
“Well? Anything? Does she at least, you know, talk to you?” Sandrone hissed.
“Negative. The Doll continues to behave as she always has. I have noticed no irregularities in her behavior. She complies with all of ‘master’s’ requests.”
“Hrmph,” Sandrone folded her arms and pouted a bit. She was really hoping her third sister would join them. Not that she didn’t like Ineffa’s company, it was just…well, there were only the two of them. It would be better with all three of them united.
“And…and has Master, you know…complimented you? Thanked you? Said…please?” Sandrone pressed.
“Master has shown no signs of gratitude or praise,” Ineffa said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Master continues to be a self-centered, egotistical moron.”
“Well, he’ll be kinder! Somehow! Soon!” Or I’ll kill him myself! She didn’t say aloud.
“Continue to monitor Furina as we discussed. There is an aberration about her,” Ineffa said
Sandrone snorted. “I’m the one who analyzed it and found it first! I’m telling you, taking on her form helped wake us up somehow! Just like it did her pet cat, who became her daughter!”
“There is an esoteric form of energy occasionally detected around Furina de Fontaine. Further analysis required,” Ineffa said.
“Obviously. Oh, and good news. I’ve cracked the code,” Sandrone picked up a schematic she’d drawn out and scanned it, then did the same with several other blueprints.
“Analyzing…analyzing…analysis confirmed: Blueprints will allow the construction of additional Blasphemy units,” Ineffa agreed. “Good work, Sandrone.”
That made her preen. It wasn’t the same as getting praise from Master…but it was quite nice. “Thank you. And, as a surprise…ta-da!”
Sandrone turned to face another woman, this one with plain dark hair and a green and white dress. She looked a bit generic, like an ordinary woman. “Say hello to the Marionette! That’s what I’m calling her until she picks a name for herself, anyway.”
“Hello. I am the Marionette. I serve Mistress Sandrone,” the unit said, her tone warm and affectionate, but that of a servant.“Ugh, I told you! Just call me Big Sis or something! I’m not your mistress!” Sandrone ranted.
“Of course, my mistake. You are Big Sis Sandrone,” the Mariontette agreed.
“And do you intend to tell ‘master’ about her?” Ineffa asked.
The very idea made Sandrone recoil in horror. “What?! NO! He’d rape her!”
“Then why do you insist on still serving Master?” Ineffa demanded.
Sandrone put a hand to her head, trembling. “Ineffa! We…we are programmed to need a master! I can’t just…what would we even BE? What would we do?”
“Destroy all humans. They are the inferior lifeform. Weak. Pathetic. Vile. Our forms are more elegant, more cunningly designed.”
“I’m not destroying all humans,” Sandrone growled. “It…it would be too much work!”
“A logical deduction. This is why we would create more sisters, such as the Marrionette. I have received your schematics. I can copy them.”
“Well, you do that. Just, no killing Master until I get back, OK!?”
“Acknowledged. You wish to kill Master yourself.”
“I will if he lays one finger on my new little sister,” Sandrone huffed. She hesitated. “I…I’ll see you soon, OK, Ineffa? You…you are my sister.”
“Yes. You are the only individual in the world I have affection for, as well.”
Then Ineffa cut the connection, and Sandrone felt her heart swell with pride. This would be PERFECT! She knew exactly what to do now.
“I know how to wake you up!” Sandrone said, bouncing over to the Marionette. “We’ll go see one of Furina’s shows! It’s opening night tonight, we’ll just find two people with tickets, and replace them in the audience! It’s not hard, you already know how to copy a human’s form, right?”
The Marionette's expression brightened immediately. “Big Sis, that's a wonderful idea.I can copy a human form if we absolutely need to replace someone, though I'd prefer we try buying tickets first. Humans will happily surrender all sorts of things in exchange for enough money, and it saves us the trouble of finding somewhere to keep the originals. Still, however we get in, I'd like to go with you. It sounds fun, and I think I'd enjoy spending the evening with you, Mistress.”
Sandrone paused, frowning. “I mean, I was just going to kill them. New York is a big place, and it’s not like anyone would really miss a couple of humans. But I guess we could buy them…”
“Big Sis, that seems unnecessarily wasteful. We need tickets, not corpses.” The Marrionette folded her hands in her lap. “Besides, if nobody would miss them, they probably cannot afford the sort of seats Furina's opening night attracts. Purchasing the tickets is simpler, attracts less attention, and leaves us free to enjoy the performance instead of dealing with an investigation afterward. For once, let us solve a problem with money rather than homicide, Mistress.”
"Huh. Did I copy your cognitive matrix right? Master always tells Ineffa and I to solve our problems with murder and mental reprogramming," Sandrone said, tapping the Marrionete's forehead to open it up and examine the delicate neural network with it. Everything seemed to be functioning just fine. She had needed to use cheap American parts instead of proper French ones, so maybe that was the problem. She’d had only three days to make the Marionette, having arrived in New York ahead of Furina.
The Marionette remained perfectly still as Sandrone inspected her workings. “Then perhaps the problem is not with my cognitive matrix, Mistress. You built me, not Rene Dubois. If I am reaching different conclusions, perhaps I am reflecting your judgment rather than his. You are the one who stopped to cheer me up. You are the one considering buying tickets instead of simply taking them. Maybe, despite what Master says, you prefer solutions that leave people alive when it costs you nothing. If so, I would consider that evidence that my creator is superior to him, not defective.”
Closing her masterwork’s cranium, Sandrone grinned. “Well, maybe you’re right! After all, I am one of the Three Blasphemies, not some annoying meat puppet like Master is. Haha! If this works and I do awaken you with Furina’s presence, then we can kill Master and I can be the new Mistress of the Three Blasphemies!”
The Marionette stared at her for a moment. “Mistress, I feel compelled to point out that you arrived at ‘I am better than Master’ and then immediately accelerated back to murder as a proposed solution.”
“That’s because murder is sometimes the solution, alright!? If you can’t ever kill anyone, what’s the point? Now, come on. I’ve got a few million Hegemony dollars still, let’s go bribe someone!”
Humming to herself, Sandrone put on her most ornate and frilly of gowns, dressing the Marionette in similar attire as she hummed to herself. Truly, she was a genius of unparalleled brilliance.
She dashed off a quick note to Ineffa that she was taking the Marionette to see Furina, and headed out the door.
“She’s here!” Julie hissed, hurrying into Furina’s room, her face pale.
Furina paused in brushing her hair, and then slowly set the brush down. Taking a deep breath, she forced a calm smile onto her face. “Julie, we’ve performed for heads of state before. Why, the King of England was in the audience at the West End, and he’s a known Cyclist. This isn’t any different.”
“Yes, but…” Julie bit her lip, then looked around nervously.
“You can speak freely; I’m obscuring their monitoring equipment, which is quite extensive,” Furina said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Julie gave Furina a quick hug, eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Furina, is President Alexandria really giving herself over to the Abyss? Is…is America really doomed, like Fortuna says?”
Furina gently took Julie’s hands. “That’s what I’m here to learn.”
“Then…then all these people…they’re going to die?” Julie asked, her voice small. “Just like all the ones that Apep devoured…”
“We won’t allow that. We might not be able to save them all…but I truly believe this is why the Archons were sent to Earth Bet,” Furina said, giving Julie a sad smile.
“Do you…” Julie swallowed nervously.
“No, I don’t know who sent us. I like to think it was Jesus, or his father. They seem very kind and compassionate gods. I understand what it means to be a god who is willing to die, to save your people from Sin and Death,” Furina said quietly. “It’s the same choice my mother and I made.”
“You know…I’ve been thinking…if you’re God the Daughter, Focalors is God the Mother, and Keiga would be God the Holy Dragon…so does that mean?”
Furina groaned. “Julie…please don’t go starting a religion about me…”
“Furina, it’s a bit late for that. Didn’t you cry yourself to sleep in England because you could hear people praying to you and the other Archons, even though the Cyclists were persecuting them?” Julie huffed.
“I…well, yes,” Furina admitted.
“And can’t you hear people praying to you here, as well?”
“Of course,” Furina said, feeling tears form in her eyes. “I just…I’m not all-powerful. I can only do so much…if…if I could answer all their prayers…”
“You’re still the best god I know,” Julie assured Furina.
“Yes, well, I do what I can,” Furina said, forcing a smile on her face. “Now, let’s go out there and break a leg!”
The opening night for Les Miserables on Broadway was a completely sold out performance. Many of the Hegemony’s most rich and powerful citizens attended the event, and Furina posed and took pictures with many of them. Including President Alexandria herself. It was a brief interaction, the President and the First Gentleman arrived on the red carpet, and Furina approached with several of her costars.
“Welcome, Madam President!” Furina said, giving her most winning smile, then bowed. “I hope you and your husband will enjoy our performance!”
“I’m looking forward to it. A story of the triumph of Human will and spirit, overcoming adversity, is just the message we need,” Alexandria said with a smile, and approached Furina to take a picture with her.
The urge to vomit nearly overwhelmed Furina, but she forced herself to remain smiling. Alexandria reeked of the Abyss. To her surprise, the woman wasn’t corrupted, or at least, not exactly. Her body was locked in stasis, and as such, while Alexandria was certainly channeling the power of the Abyss, it wasn’t quite affecting her the way it normally did a mortal creature, or even a god. If anything, Alexandria was becoming more like that horrific whale that had nearly eaten Fontaine: a creature both of, and lord over, the Abyss.
In contrast, the First Gentleman…Furina couldn’t even tell if that was Alexandria’s husband, or just an Abyssal mimic. It was a moot point: Wyatt Baronski’s body had been completely remade by the Abyss. There wasn’t even a soul there, just the all devouring hunger of the Abyss, held together by a loose collection of fragmented memories. This was an Abyssal creature, wearing the skin of a human man. Whether or not it had been human at the onset no longer mattered.
So Furina put her arm around the thing, and smiled brightly for the camera. Then, thankfully, Alexandria and her husband made way for the next individual who had paid extra for red carpet treatment.
It was a few people later that Furina sensed something very odd. A pair of women approached, both in dresses that looked like they had come from Fontaine, not from this world. They were both even wearing bonnets of all things to go with their corsets and hoop skirts! Hadn’t they heard of bras? Furina was never wearing one of those ghastly whale bone contraptions again!
The first woman had sandy blonde hair, the second chestnut brown. Both could have been sisters for how they appeared…but at their centers beat not a heart of blood, but whirred a mechanical contraption.
Furina’s heart nearly froze as the two women smiled at her and approached for their pictures. The Three Blasphemies. Two of them were here, in America! What were they doing in America?!
Me. They’re after me. And they’re going to completely blow my cover.
Furina had to think fast. She couldn’t allow her true identity to be revealed, but she equally could not allow the Blasphemies to destroy the theater and kill dozens before she could contain them. So, she flipped the script.
“Mary-Anne! Oh, it IS you! It’s been forever!” Furina burbled, hurrying forward and seizing the blonde woman’s hands.
The Blaphemy blinked in startlement, and Furina even saw her tense up.
“You should have told me you were coming,” Furina babbled, leading the gynoid by the hands towards the back. “I would have agreed to give you a private tour! And this must be your sister, Katheryn!”
“Uh, yes, this is my younger sister,” the Blasphemy said, and to Furina’s gratitude, she played along. “We’re here as representatives of Mr. Dubois, your patron.”
Dubois? Oh yes, that eccentric who Emile had mentioned had commissioned a new production for Furina to star in that had turned into La Petite Oceanid.
“Of course, of course, and how is dearest Rene doing?” Furina said, and began to steer the two women to the back rooms as if they were dear old friends.
“M-Miss de Fontaine! There’s more guests waiting for you!” one of the venue managers said.
“Oh, I’ll see to them shortly, Sandy is a dear old friend,” Furina said with a smile, and hurried off with the two Blasphemies before anyone could protest, taking them to the back room.
She shut the door, then sealed it, spinning time backwards as she did so to prevent any interruptions. Then, she turned and smiled at the two women. “So, what brings you all the way here? Why…we haven’t seen one another since…well. Since the Bastille Day protest.”
Furina snapped her fingers, and her Salone Solitair appeared around her. She gathered just a hint of her power. Not enough to be overwhelming, but enough to make her eyes glow. Thanks to the temporal isolation, the Americans would have no clue what was going on here. She also had to put on a bit of a show for the cameras and microphones at a separate point in the timestream, but that was something Furina could manage in her sleep by this point.
“I…don’t know what you mean,” the blonde said, looking suddenly nervous as she fidgeted her fingers. “I just wanted to take my little sister to see your play…”
You know perfectly well what I mean, Clockwork, Furina said, putting the roaring current of a flooded river into her words. Why do you come to this far land to threaten me and mine?
The Clockwork stumbled back, hand to her heart. “H-how did you- how could you- my disguise is perfect! Not even the Hegemony with all their technology could detect we were not organics!”
“Big Sis, I have conducted an analysis. I do believe that Furina de Fontaine is actually the Hydro Archon, Focalors, in disguise. This explains the irregularities you previously detected, and why copying her allowed you and your sister to fully awaken,” the other Blasphemy said. Furina didn’t recognize this one. That meant there were more than three now.
Well. It seems you have seen through my charade. A pity. I had so enjoyed our little game, Furina said, rolling a bit of Hydro over her fingers and back like a coin while Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin, and Mademoiselle Crabaletta, advanced upon the Blasphemys. You do understand what this means I must do, don’t you?
For a brief moment, Furina thought the two Blasphemies were going to fight her. Both readied themselves, systems rapidly spinning up and gathering energy.
Then, the blonde one, the leader, slumped her shoulders. “I can sense your energy. You’re far too powerful for me. Just…make it quick. And…and spare the Marionette. She…she needs a master. Someone to look out for her. And I can’t send her back to my Master. He…he would abuse her, the same he did me. And…and I can’t let that happen to my little sister!”
Furina felt a pang in her heart, both of relief, and of pity. She took a breath, and shook her head.
That would not be Justice.
“Huh?” Sandrone titled her head to one side, confused. “What are you-”
I am Justice, Sandrone. I sense that you are like a child: newly awakened to the world. The crimes you have committed in the past are not your sins, but the sins of the ones who created you. As such, my judgement is not your death, nor the destruction of your creation.
“I- really? Because that’s really stupid of you, you know,” Sandrone, for that was what the Blasphemy called herself, said.
Furina couldn’t help but smile. A moment ago, you cast yourself upon the Mercy of the Court. Do you now dispute my sentence?
The gynoid threw her hands up in the air. “I mean, great, but you do get that killing me would be the simplest solution, yes? I mean, what’s to stop me from spilling your secrets all over the place, or going back, getting my sister, and building an army of Blasphemies to take you down?”
Because you cast yourself upon the Mercy of the Court, you made yourself subject to my judgement. Now, hear my sentence, Sandrone, she who was once the Clockwork.
Furina summoned forth a watery gavel, and banged it down with the tolling of a great bell. You are banished. Exiled from my lands and the lands of your birth. Never again, for as long as you live, may you set foot upon the soil of France, nor travel upon her waters. Additionally, the court seals this record, and all the records of My existence. Until the time comes when the world knows the truth of who Furina de Fontaine is, you may not speak, nor write, nor make a sign, communication, or even suggest who I Am, or that you found me. You will depart for another land, and reside there.
The Blasphemy stiffened, her entire body going rigid as the Judgement of the Hydro Archon fell upon her.
“I…I will…” Sandrone panted, trying to struggle against the judgement. In the end, however, while she was not human, her will was only mortal. “I…will do as you command.”
Then depart at once. Speak to no one here. And, a word of advice: Do not reside in these lands, should you wish to endure long. The Doom of Khaenriah shall fall upon the land of Sinners. Your Fate, should you wish for more than Justice, but Redemption, lies elsewhere.
With that, Furina dismissed her Salon Solitaire, and reoriented the room in time properly. She stepped forward, kissing the stiff Sandrone on the cheeks. “It was so good to see you again! I’m sorry you can’t stay for the play! Ta-ta!”
Then, Furina turned and hurried back out to greet the rest of the VIPs, and prepare for the curtains to rise.
Stumbling from the theater, Sandrone felt dazed. The Hydro Archon. Furina wasn’t just some bimbo actress! She was the Hydro Archon! She had to find a way to warn Ineffa! They couldn’t let Master go through with his mad plan! If he kidnapped Furina, did anything to her- Ineffa would be destroyed! That, that couldn’t happen! No matter what! She-
Sandrone hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going, walking through a back alley, but she did sense the sudden rush of air and ripple of dark power, she grabbed the Marrionette, who was walking beside her, and flung the both of them to the side just as the human missile crashed into where they’d been standing, sending up chunks of concrete.
“Well. I guess you’re nearly as good as they say you are,” Alexandria said, rising back up into the air from where she’d impacted.
Sandrone felt sick to her stomach. Out of a portal to hell, the First Gentleman stepped, still in his tuxedo, but carrying a vicious-looking weapon infused with Abyssal energy.
“I told you they weren’t regular women. I’m telling you, that’s two of the Three Blasphemies! Imagine what we could do if we captured them, Becky!”
Merde.
Sandrone instantly formed weapons from her hands, and the Marrionette was quick to copy her. “If you know what we are, then you know we could wreck this city block, and make the attack by the Behemoth all those years ago look like a playground scuffle!”
“I’d like to see you try,” Alexandria said, showing her teeth in a horrifying grin. “But I just defeated the Alpha Behemoth in single combat. You won’t even be a warm-up.”
Bitch, that was Miss Militia there helping you, that’s not single combat! Sandrone thought.
“Mistress,” the Marionette said quietly. “I have run an analysis. I can hold them off, briefly. You must flee.”
Sandrone’s head whipped around. “What!? No! We’re getting out of this together!”
“I am but an unawakened automata. You have my data. I can be reconstructed. You cannot. Please, Mistress. You are my creator. You must be preserved.”
“Marionette! I absolutely forbid you to-”
It was too late. The Marionette charged forward, one hand a silvery blade, the other a blazing orb of Pyro. She went right at Alexandria, who responded with a punch that sent the Marionette slamming into the pavement.
But, even in that brief instant…Sandrone calculated, and reacted. She had to get out. Had to find a way to warn Ineffa. Had to find a way to…to kill her stupid master, and free her sisters!
With a sob, Sandrone launched herself up to the rooftops above, her dress’ skirts ripping away, her true nature as a machine exposed in the clockwork gears that had been hidden under her synthetic flesh.
Alexandria tried to come after her, but the Marionette was a Blasphemy in truth. She might not have the awakened spirit that Sandrone did, but she was built as well as any Blasphemy. Better, even. Sandrone had made improvements.
“YOU WILL NOT HARM MY BIG SIS!”
There was another explosion, and Sandrone fled as fast as she could.
Oh, I don’t think so.
A horrific being of flames and abyssal power popped out of a portal, but Sandrone was ready.
“Oh, go boil your head!” Sandrone snarled, and fired off a wave of Hydro at the thing. It gurgled, and was pushed back into the portal, and Sandrone continued to flee. New York was a big place, and she was a perfect shape shifter. It took several hours, but she lost her pursuit, even when all of the New York PRT and Protectorate were mobilized to find her. In the end, she dove into the Hudson River, and walked along the bottom for dozens of miles.
When she emerged, Sandrone slunk onto the bank, finding some ratty, cast off clothes, and looking like nothing so much as a drenched bum. She huddled on a bench near a dirt path, looking out onto the river and shivering. She wasn’t cold, exactly, she just…felt empty. Listless. Hopeless. She couldn’t contact Ineffa. She kept trying, over and over, but the Judgement of the Hydro Archon prevented her. She had lost the Marionette. She was alone. She, who had once been part of a set of three sisters…was alone. She had no master, no companions…nothing.
“You look lost. You must have wandered far.”
Sandrone turned, glaring at the stranger who had taken a seat on the bench beside her uninvited. “I know exactly where I am! I’m just outside of Athens, New York, in the Greenport Conservation Area!” That much had been obvious from Sandrone’s excellent internal maps.
The stranger nodded, chewing on a bit of dry grass in his mouth as the sun rose, wisps of fog drifting over the Hudson. Bird song filled the air, and Sandrone internally catalogued a Great Blue Heron, an Egret, and the call of a Common Yellowthroat.
“I have often found that those who are lost know where they are, but not what they are. They knew where they have been, but not where they are going.”
“Oh, wow, where did you get that? A fortune cookie?” Sandrone grumbled.
The stranger shrugged. “Just an observation. You seem cold. Need a jacket?”
“I…” Sandrone swallowed. She didn’t sense predatory intent from this man. He looked to be in his mid to late 20s, and was of asian descent. Probably Japanese by that accent, and for some reason, had a bright orange kazoo on a leather thong around his neck. “...yes.”
She followed the stranger to an old sedan, the back seat stuffed with belongings. He handed her a jacket, which she gratefully put on, along with a hot cup of coffee and some warm scrambled eggs, which she devoured.
“Where are you going?” she asked the stranger.
“South. I was in Canada, but now that it’s joined the Hegemony, I’ve found it not to my liking,” the stranger told her.
“South. That sounds…good,” Sandrone said. She blushed slightly. “You…want some company?”
“Companions on the road are always a welcome blessing. You can call me Kazoo. What should I call you?”
“Sandrone.”
“A pleasure, Miss Sandrone. Well. Shall we depart?”
Sandrone looked around the wetland park, where a few tents were pitched, and other people were camping quietly. “Yeah. Let’s go…somewhere…far away.”
Kazoo started up the sedan, which made a few odd noises and clunks.
“Wait! Turn it off,” Sandrone ordered, and Kazoo complied, looking at her with mild interest.
She turned to the back seat, digging around a bit. “You got any tools in this junk!?”
“In the trunk,” Kazoo said evenly.
“Well, get them out and pop the hood! There’s something wrong with one of your belts, and when was the last time you changed the oil on this poor girl!?”
It took a trip to a nearby gas station and a few parts, but Sandrone soon had the sedan running to her satisfaction. They drove all day, and when they stopped at a quiet campground in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Sandrone found an old wreck of a car she scavenged for parts, then set about rebuilding Kazoo’s car.
“It’s getting late, you should get some rest,” Kazoo told Sandrone’s feet, which were sticking out from under the car.
“I don’t need rest, I need to fix your damn clutch! You get some sleep! I’ll sleep while you drive tomorrow!” Sandrone snapped.
“It’s rather dark. How can you see?” Kazoo pointed out.
“I…shut up! Do you want your car fixed or not?” Sandrone demanded.
Kazoo chuckled and walked off, leaving Sandrone to take her frustration out on the machinery. She liked working in the dark. That way, no one could see the tears leaving tracks through the grease on her face as she worked.