FIC: CSI, the Marches
May. 8th, 2006 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalNotes: In Nomine, PG, silly
The three angels had their suspect pinned to the wall. This is a bit more painful than it sounds since their subject was A) an ethereal made out of dreamstuff parchment, and B) held in place by actual pins.
"Okay, buddy," the Seraph of Dreams began, leaning against the wall until he was in the ethereal parchment's face. "You are going to tell my comrades from Lightning and Children here everything you know about your buddies. Where we can find them, how powerful they are, and how likely it is they're going to go after another kid."
"I don't know anything!" the parchment cried out. "We were just trying to help her!"
"Oh, sure. Help by screwing up a little girl's journey through her dreamscape so badly that she gets tossed straight into a coma," the Cherub of Children growled. He pulled a pack of matches from the pocket of his jumper. "Give me five minutes alone with this predator and I'll make him talk."
The Seraph frowned. "Put that away. He's telling the truth, at least as he understands it."
"Indeed," the Elohite of Lightning agreed, putting his scanner away. "This fellow here is more of a sentient artifact, rather than a truly independent entity. Quite a clever design really. Open him up and he creates a dreamscape to traverse, containing the traditional three tests of skill and knowledge, at the end of which the dreamer arrives at the ethereal realm they were attempting to reach."
"And of course he sucks Essence out of the dreamer every time they use him," the Cherub noted.
"I wasn't getting anything out of it, honest!" the parchment said. "The boss took everything me and Petate got from her. It wasn't as if she was using any of it herself!"
"Petate?" the Cherub asked.
"The purple bag you so helpfully ripped apart before we could question it," the Elohite reminded him.
The Cherub shrugged. "It had its flap open. I couldn't take the chance of it pulling a weapon out of itself."
"It was the boss who did it!" the parchment babbled. "The last couple of times she dreamed, she kept trying to tell him she was growing up, that she didn't need us anymore. The boss got really mad, and that's when he went after her."
"Truth," the Seraph confirmed. "I don't believe this artifact is in fact malicious, but it was definitely being manipulated by someone who was."
"Does that mean you're going to let me go?" the parchment asked.
"No, it means we're going to give you a choice," the Elohite replied. "Tell us everything you know about your boss, and you get to spend the rest of Eternity resting comfortably in Lightning's artifact vaults."
"That's not fair!"
"Or you can chose not to tell us," the Cherub finished, "and then I get to play with matches."
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
* * *
"Okay," the Seraph said some five minutes later. "All we have to do is find a talking monkey wearing red cowboy boots. Even in the Marches he can't be that hard to find."
The three angels had their suspect pinned to the wall. This is a bit more painful than it sounds since their subject was A) an ethereal made out of dreamstuff parchment, and B) held in place by actual pins.
"Okay, buddy," the Seraph of Dreams began, leaning against the wall until he was in the ethereal parchment's face. "You are going to tell my comrades from Lightning and Children here everything you know about your buddies. Where we can find them, how powerful they are, and how likely it is they're going to go after another kid."
"I don't know anything!" the parchment cried out. "We were just trying to help her!"
"Oh, sure. Help by screwing up a little girl's journey through her dreamscape so badly that she gets tossed straight into a coma," the Cherub of Children growled. He pulled a pack of matches from the pocket of his jumper. "Give me five minutes alone with this predator and I'll make him talk."
The Seraph frowned. "Put that away. He's telling the truth, at least as he understands it."
"Indeed," the Elohite of Lightning agreed, putting his scanner away. "This fellow here is more of a sentient artifact, rather than a truly independent entity. Quite a clever design really. Open him up and he creates a dreamscape to traverse, containing the traditional three tests of skill and knowledge, at the end of which the dreamer arrives at the ethereal realm they were attempting to reach."
"And of course he sucks Essence out of the dreamer every time they use him," the Cherub noted.
"I wasn't getting anything out of it, honest!" the parchment said. "The boss took everything me and Petate got from her. It wasn't as if she was using any of it herself!"
"Petate?" the Cherub asked.
"The purple bag you so helpfully ripped apart before we could question it," the Elohite reminded him.
The Cherub shrugged. "It had its flap open. I couldn't take the chance of it pulling a weapon out of itself."
"It was the boss who did it!" the parchment babbled. "The last couple of times she dreamed, she kept trying to tell him she was growing up, that she didn't need us anymore. The boss got really mad, and that's when he went after her."
"Truth," the Seraph confirmed. "I don't believe this artifact is in fact malicious, but it was definitely being manipulated by someone who was."
"Does that mean you're going to let me go?" the parchment asked.
"No, it means we're going to give you a choice," the Elohite replied. "Tell us everything you know about your boss, and you get to spend the rest of Eternity resting comfortably in Lightning's artifact vaults."
"That's not fair!"
"Or you can chose not to tell us," the Cherub finished, "and then I get to play with matches."
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
* * *
"Okay," the Seraph said some five minutes later. "All we have to do is find a talking monkey wearing red cowboy boots. Even in the Marches he can't be that hard to find."
