Post by Nathan Saniti on Nov 13, 2016 16:36:11 GMT -5
The Seeds of Life - Chapter 7
Things had gone according to plan on Trauma 201. N. Saniti had disguised himself as the zombie referee for Alexa's match. He towed the line, playing the part to perfection and abducting all three of Alexa Black's cohorts.
He, Naomi, and Grigori Rasputin brought them to this nexus in order to remove the demons hidden within them. The three who had been kidnapped were strapped to altars of granite, as cold and unforgiving as the being trapped inside their souls. It took quite a bit of concentration and planning, but the vessels were now empty of their evil contents and sealed properly to prevent a recurrence.
They knew they would have to do the same for Alexa, especially since she believed herself the chief torturer to Lucifer himself. They also knew it would be much more difficult to accomplish. Whether or not she truly was the right hand of the Prince of Lies wasn't as much the issue as the vast number of those aligning themselves with her, both visible and hidden. The ones yet to reveal themselves could very well end up being generals of hell, instead of mere soldiers.
That would complicate things, to say the least.
Then there's the business of finding the Seeds of Life, preventing or stopping the rise of the Four Horsemen, and gathering the Harvesters to pull the Universes back into the balance before it's too late.
All while keeping Seromine and his followers at bay, keeping up the facade at PCW, and battling with all of the above alongside Phinehas Grimm. He had their beloved Kelli Starr by their side, and the drunken pirate to give them the assist. N. Saniti couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration that Nathan was off gathering old friends while they were stuck here doing what he deemed to be the grunt work. He seethed inwardly, collapsing into a Victorian high back chair from exhaustion. Naomi and Rasputin echoed his actions in the sitting room of his abode within the confines of Balance. After their harrowing exorcisms, they were all physically, emotionally, and mentally spent.
As for Nathan, he crawled out of a mirror placed in the musty bathroom of a New Orleans pub, stepping in something that was unidentifiably wretched and sickening sounding in the absence of light. With reluctant disgust, he flipped the switch, bringing the humming tubes to life with a flickering protest. It was with a comical mixture of relief and disdain that he discovered he had set foot in a drunk man's sandwich who had passed out on the floor mid-chew. The fact that the man neither stirred nor choked to death in the night was a minor miracle in itself. Nathan exited the privy, wiping his feet off as best he could before entering the near solitude of the early morning on the French Quarter.
It always amazed him just how different the atmosphere changes around here within the mere span of hours each day. During their Mardi Gras celebration, the problem compounded, but still remained virtually the same. The air was filled with the unwelcoming smell of urine and alcohol, the streets littered with rubbish that the city workers were diligently, albeit grudgingly, attempting to get under control.
It wasn't the air of spent indulgence that Nathan sniffed for though. He sought the scent of the mystical. He knew Baron Samedi was here. This place was as close to a home for the voodoo priest-slash-demi-mortal as he could get. He always had been attracted to indulgence, just as Bacchus to a good orgy. It certainly didn't hurt that there was also so much influence for his preferred belief system instilled in this region as well. New Orleans reeked of it, and pinpointing him would be a difficult task, as there were a lot of highly powered individuals here.
"Why be you here, Nath'n?" beckoned a raspy Jamaican accent behind him. "Mo' impo'tantly, why did you step on my po' boy?"
Nathan stopped in his tracks, a huge smile on his face. He hadn't recognized Samedi in his disguise. "I was under the impression that you liked sole food, my dear friend." He chuckled lightly as he turned around. The disheveled white drunkard that was doing the impression of a bath mat in the latrine withered into a burly, tattooed and muscular ebony man.
He was cloaked with a cape that was black as raven's feathers on the outside and white as a Christmas snow on the inside. A necklace of animal bones draped around his neck with a raven's skull dangling at the bottom like a demented exclamation point. Atop his head, he wore a black top hat that looked more akin to a gentleman than a practitioner of the dark arts.
Nathan's perky demeanor withered away upon gazing at the severe look he was being given. Once the joviality had all but drained from his face, Samedi began laughing deep belly laughs. Soon enough, Nathan joined him. Then the guffaws stopped as suddenly as they had began.
Baron Samedi glowered at Nathan. "Now, why you here?"
"Straight to the point as always, I see," remarked Nathan.
"I don' have time fo' pleasantries, Nath'n. Eadder tell me why you here or begone wichoo."
Nathan sighed. "Everyone's in a hurry. Fine. I need to find the Seeds of Life." Nathan produced the baseball sized technicolor acorn from his jacket pocket. The colors swirled and drifted as if the underlying insides were fluid.
Baron Samedi examined the seed thoughtfully, never touching it, just looking at it from every angle as Nathan held it out. "Looks like you got 'Patience.' Dat's a good start. You gon' need it fo' sho."
"So how do we find the rest of them?"
"'WE' don't. I want no part of dis battle."
"You understand that everything going on here effects you just as deeply as it does anyone else, don't you?" Nathan queried of the voodoo deity.
"Don' gimme dat!" shouted Samedi. "The last time I got mixed up wichoo, I had to leave my beloved France."
"And you found paradise in Haiti, didn't you?"
Now it was the Baron's turn to sigh. He shook his head, silently relinquishing the discussion. "Come with me." Samedi led Nathan back into the pub he'd just exited. As they did, the world seemed to shimmer as if they were walking through a clear wall of water.
On the other side wasn't a drinking establishment, but instead was a shop filled with knick knacks of all sorts. It resembled a perverse combination of a curiosity store and an antique mall. From wall to wall, and floor to ceiling, things hung from rafters, sat on shelves, or were mounted on walls, and each had its own presence. Both men walked past a leather bag with a brass plate inscribed with the words "Tool Bag of Destiny" on it. Baron absently brushed the bag as the paraded past to a desk overflowing with scrolls.
"You not gon' be able to find them all at once. You know dat, right?" Nathan agreed as Baron Samedi rifled through the pile of parchment scrolls that looked older than time itself. He came up with a map that never got too large as it unfurled, yet appeared to encompass all of time and space in its vastness. "You gon' need dis." He shoved it into Nathan's hands unceremoniously and went back to the search. "Don' lose it, either." He shuffled to a glass case, blowing an inch of dust from the glass to peer inside. "Ah! I found it!"
"Found what, precisely?" questioned Nathan, still mesmerized by the map.
"You need to find seven t'ings, right?"
"Indeed."
"You need a Star of Babylon," he explained. "The only way to locate seven related items is to use dis." He produced a seven pointed star made from onyx roughly the size of a small wall clock. As he began to hand it to Nathan, the Seed lurched away from it as if recoiling for its life, nearly jumping out of Nathan's hand.
"It appears the Seed doesn't wish to have anything to do with the Star," opined Nathan.
"Prolly not," answered Samedi. "The Star is neither good nor evil, but it do have some bad juju from its past uses. Mebbe dis is just da t'ing dat will get it back in shape."
Nathan and the Baron watched, awestruck, as Patience slowly rolled cautiously, like an inquisitive puppy, towards the Star until it barely touched. Both items quivered and quaked, just a little bit of the color from the Seed seeping into the otherwise pitch-colored Star. The colors swirled and danced around the point they had met, but ventured no further, as if awaiting something.
"How do I use it?"
"You ask it politely."
Nathan nodded in agreement. "What's the cost?"
"I'm giving it to you free of charge," stated Samedi with a sly smile.
"You know what I'm talking about," Nathan sneered.
"Once you done wit' it, you gon' have to give up dat which is most precious to you."
Nathan cocked his head in bewilderment. "What does that mean, exactly?" The Baron shrugged, explaining that he'd never used it himself, so the answer was unclear. "And what of the map? What is its cost?"
"If you lose dat map, I gon' kick yo' ass meself."
Nathan laughed heartily, the Baron even joining briefly. Nathan pocketed the Seed and tucked the Star under his arm, turning for the door. As he got to the entrance he returned his attention to the voodoo priest. "I do wish you'd reconsider joining us. We could use your assistance."
Samedi narrowed his eyes a bit as he stepped forward, placing his hand on the Tool Bag of Destiny absently once again. "I can't join you fo' dis." Then he looked down to the bag with a twinkle in his eye. "I t'ink I may know someone who could help, though." The brass plate near the clasp glistened with enthusiasm for the notion. "I jus' gotta wake him first." Nathan and the Baron exchanged salutations as he shimmied past the entrance back into the real world. "He's rested long enough, I t'ink."
