Oh, where to start. Janine suggested I keep tabs on things and keep records, but I just see them as paper trails. Not particularly agreeable for a Guardian, but for everyone else it’s just fine. Makes my work easier. Speaking of work, there’s a damned laundry list of things to get done. Maybe I should start by writing that down…

#1.) Obtain large enough boat to host dog fighting over international waters.
#2.) Submit design to the Veil (assuming they haven’t made it already…)
#3.) a. Approach Tadzio about legacies.
b. Practice summoning for sake of experience. Actually, this should be point a.
#4.) a. Address the issue of the cabal charter. All of it.
b. Justice for Eron and his crew. Again, this should probably be a.
#5.) Take the BAR exam.
#6.) Think of curriculum for political and ethical teachings.
#7.) Make more money. Make nice with people who have more than me.
#8.) Look into subterranean construct firms and digging contractors.
#9.) Spirits. WTF. That’s all I have pretty much for the time being.
#10.) Infiltrate a secret cult so we can free an Oracle before Isidis is destroyed.
#11.) Don’t get caught.
#12.) There’s a vampire running around and I really REALLY want to catch it. However, I like my blood exactly where it is. Decisions, decisions…

So, yeah. Looking pretty shitty from this angle. I’d hate to waste another favor from Suede only to come up with nothing again. Batting 0/2 isn’t good in the 3 strike system. Someone has to get their hands dirty and it doesn’t take much of leap to say it’s going to be me. You know what? Fine. Let’s see how well all the little devil advocates do against a Mastigos. Now I have a damned good idea what I can do for number 3. It may not be “clean” or “wholesome”, but I GET RESULTS DAMMIT! And that’s what counts. The results. No one argues with results. So here’s where we’re drawing the line. No more concessions, no more looking the other way. Someone has to do the jobs no else wants and I’m sure as all hell not sacrificing my integrity and reputation on carelessness and frivolity. I can find another cabal if worse comes to worse, but there’s no analogue for the Veil. At least not without diving head first into the Abyss. I might come close, but that’ll just give me a better idea of what I’m up against. Just have to tread carefully or I’ll lose myself forever. If there’s something I care about more than anything else, it’s me. I just have to stay focused and disciplined to avoid THAT hubris. Keep it together man, there’s always a bigger fish and it just might be your own demons…

Now let’s get to work.

casts Memory Hole

“So uh…” Jack stumbled over how to proceed, as he stood in a center aisle, surrounded by barking dogs in tiny little cages. Something, deep inside, yearned to set them all free, run with them, howl alongside them. Instead, he was there at the pound looking for one he could doom to a gruesome death.

His gut felt sour, and Jack made a mental note to take something for it when he got back to the sanctum.

The pound worker sighed, and flipped back her obnoxious-pink emo-flip hair, staring at the taller man like he was deliberately wasting her time. Jack grimaced, apologetically.

“Look…I’ve never done this before, and I’m um. Kind of against the idea of pets getting euthanized if I can help them out. Can you show me the ones who’re next up on the train to needle-town?”

The goth girl blinked at him and tilted her head, seeming uncertain whether to be amused or disgusted at his odd turn of phrase.

“Sure, dude. This way.”

---

Jack slipped into the Undercity, carrying a muzzled, mangy dog, as it wriggled in his arms, trying to bite its way free. The pound hadn’t yet detected that it was developing rabies, making it perfect for what he needed. Still, he felt like shit, carrying the poor thing to its doom when he could much more easily have cured it of its illness.

A long walk later, he stood before the great bone beast, holding his sacrifice. It looked up at him, whining, suddenly vaguely aware of danger.

“Sorry, pup. Sorry…”

With a sigh, he looked up, shaking his head as he activated the Sight.

“As required by our deal. Here.”

The door to his room thudded shut, a quick flick of his wrist pushing home the dead bolt with a sense of finality before he stalked angrily to the bed and sat. Bottle in one hand and a copy of the contract in the other, Jack glared angrily at the text.

It was well-written, sound, binding, a solution to the problem. Yet it still didn’t feel right.

So far, he knew of at least four people whose souls had been eaten by the gods-damned cat. If the cat were a mage, he’d be hunted down by every member of the Consilium in no less brutal and thorough a manner than Tom had been. In fact, to Jack’s mind, Codex had done worse than Tom ever managed.

A quick scrounging under his bed brought out his journal, which he slapped on the desk and flipped open, scrawling angry letters between mouthfuls of whiskey.

_Dear Journal,

Does the natural amorality of a spirit make it any less accountable for its actions than a human being?

I hate the monstrous bastards. Never trust a fucking spirit. Never. They aren’t people, they aren’t human, and they don’t give a fuck about us._

Giving the journal an angry shove that sent it to the floor, Jack laid back on his bed, growling as his head thumped into the wall. The bottle seemed a better consolation than most. At least if he drank enough, he wouldn’t have to dream about those empty eyes, the soul-less hobo he’d had to coach on how to eat beans, or the stricken look on Ryuhon’s face when Dina had so angrily told him the cat had to go.

He didn’t want to think about how that was going to play out – How he was going to convince Dina to give the cat a second chance. How he was going to convince Ryuhon to trust Dina around Codex. How he was going to deal with the energetic, excited look Mobius had gotten over the whole thing.

With a grunt, he slid off the bed and to his knees to scoop up his wrongfully-abused journal.

“Sorry, buddy. Not your fault. …I’m talking to a fucking book, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

Nonetheless, he put the journal to his forehead and sat, wishing he could talk to the bit of dead tree, ask it questions about what to do and get real answers. Bothering Spider with this seemed silly. After all, though Spider was a good friend, he wasn’t the emotional type who would easily understand this sort of thing.

After a while, he slid back up onto the bed, laying the book in his lap, and continued to worship the grain. Among its many blessings, dreamless sleep beckoned. He’d do chiminage in the morning, in form of hangover.

The printer hummed softly as it spat out the headline articles. Dog eared paperbacks sat in a haphazard pile waiting to be put into her travel pack. A small lantern flashlight rested in its charger. Sticks of incense weren’t necessary, but Poe liked to use them anyway. It appealed to her sense of aesthetics.

She liked to visit the graveyard at least once a week and read to the residents. It was a little like an old folks home, not everyone there could talk to her, not everyone there would talk to her, but the ones that did loved it when she came around. She shared local and world news that they didn’t normally get a chance to hear, she also would read a few chapters from best sellers. Not a lot to pass the time in the cemetery.

She had started doing this while still under Claudia’s care, she wanted a network of people who, even if she couldn’t find a mage, had a first-hand knowledge of the past. This would be the first time she went to them with questions. She needed to find a member of the Selemite Order, the rest of her cobal was still debating whether or not the vision was true but she knew it was real, and very very important. Without the sacrifice of the heads of the Order, terrible things would happen and it was up to them to make sure it happened.

Oh God.

It was up to them to make sure that those people died.

It hadn’t really been real before. The first images she had seen had been in the far past, so far that she had a hard time conceptualizing it. It was almost myth, She had maintained that shield of disconnection for the rest of her time in the dream world. But now that shield was pierced. She would have to help make sure that these people died, and died horribly.

Poe stood up from the computer so fast she knocked over her chair and sprinted from the room. She made it to the toilet just in time. After, she stayed kneeling and trembling for several moments before she was able to pull herself together enough to flush and wash out her mouth.

In the hallway she ran into Jack.

“Are you feeling okay, Poe?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled, not looking him in the eye. Thankfully, he didn’t push and she was able to escape back to her room.

Weds. Nov. 24th

Well sir, I have to hand it to you, you’re just full of surprises. One minute you’re losing your sanity to a dream world and the next your giving legal council to unfortunate battered women. There truly is no middle ground with you. It’s either one extreme or the other. Then again, what else would you ask of a Mastigos? What else would you ask of yourself period? Either play the hand you’re given or fold. But you know what you’re problem is? You bluff a losing hand when you should have folded. And since you never fold, you’re eventually going to lose. Hurts to admit it, doesn’t it?

However, you were taught better. While Tadzio may be hell on earth next to Pandemonium, if she’s anything related to you and your Watchtower, she didn’t give you the half-ass tutoring the others got. Be smart and recognize your weaknesses. Then conquer them. If you’re man enough to admit you can lose, you can be man enough get back up when it happens.

It’s a good start to deal with what’s happening. Something is calling to your cabal to take action and free it to either become an Oracle to battle the Exarchs or it’s playing you all for chumps. So step one, it’s more powerful than you. It’s holding the ball, but it just put it in our court. Now step two, the game is on our playing field. Home field advantage is a plus and from what I’ve gathered from Dr. C, evil only triumphs when the good takes the bench. Step three then is take some action. Do something. DO SOMETHING YOU COWARD! But be smart about it. Don’t be dumb and get yourself neck deep in demonic shit. You only get one soul, so if you INSIST on selling it, don’t short change yourself. Trade up, don’t trade in, and only when the market is good. And for fucks sake, do it only as a last resort and keep the receipt.

In the mean time, watch, listen, learn and make progress. Work smarter, not harder and stop being a recluse. Spiders are Jack’s forte’. (Recluse… spiders… get it? It was worth a shot…). Learn your craft, perfect it, and use it to solve the secret of Selemite. Otherwise your city is #3 on the list for eradication, and it’s a pain in the ass to build an empire from scratch. At least make an attempt to save what you’ve worked for. You owe everyone that much.

From the desk of
Mobiüs