The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round Three: The Sable Masque

Klendel stalked the halls darkly, if such a thing were possible for a being made of shadows. He had no illusions of freedom; the unreadable Tireless Men (he had already determined that, whatever they were, they weren't really capable of thinking, and were therefore below his interest) guarded everything that so much as resembled an exit. Out of curiosity, Klendel had approached them once, and before he knew it they had formed a wall of coat over the whole doorway. Not the most menacing thing he'd ever seen, but certainly not the most friendly. He glowered at the pair guarding a nearby doorway as he passed, not really expecting a response.

What he needed, and fast, was information. Although his hasty deal had regained some semblence of control, he knew it was only temporary; a plan relying on the actions of unknowns was only one step above no plan at all. Were he the wishing type, he would've tried asking one of the Cog gods for time, and lots of it (not that he could even remember their names, much less what they governed). His normal timescale worked on the order of decades, giving him plenty of leeway to worm his way into the system, set the kingdom on a slow decline, subtly groom any future heirs to be fundamentally incapable of ruling - anything he needed to do in order to fix the broken structure.

He didn't like working with a time constraint, yet here he was, forced into one. Even worse, he didn't even know how long he had - just that the grains of sand in the hourglass were trickling out. Was it karma? He'd lost track of how many people had cursed him with their dying breaths. Maybe someone had finally made up their mind on whether the ends justified the means. That sounded right; he was pretty sure that, whatever the reason, whoever was to blame was in charge of something.

He caught a mind full of confusion and anxiety on the peripherals of his mental radar, and he spun around. A pure white Cog, too white to simply be reflecting light, was pushing herself blindly forward, leaning against the wall for support. With each pained step the clear white grew dingier. He was too far away to hear what she was saying, but it didn't matter. "Leo, help," she whispered, eyes wandering sightlessly. "It hurts. It hurts and I can't see. Leo, where are you?" He cried out a single word, her name, and sprinted towards her as fast as he could. His legs felt like they were weighted down; he couldn't move fast enough. He opened his mouth to yell her name again -

But it wasn't her. It was someone else, someone he didn't know. Klendel's lunge turned into a stumble as he tried to right himself. It was a short, gaunt man, sandy hair receding towards a large bald spot, dressed in a tuxedo, walking briskly around the corner, muttering to himself and glancing from side to side. The sound of Klendel's yell split his attention and he fell over backwards as both legs tried to go forward at the same time.

"What in the blazes are you yelling about?" he grumbled, rolling forward and then standing up a motion that might've looked smooth if someone else had done it. "I'm late, get out of my way!" Klendel stared back at him wordlessly, struggling to decide if he would rather be glad he didn't have to live through that memory again or if he wanted to put his head in his hands because he couldn't. His head felt like it was full of sand, slowly trickling out. The short man patted his jacket down, probably more for effect than utility, as the wrinkles seemed to be smoothing themselves out anyway. He glared up at Klendel. "I said, get out of my way! I'm late!" He waved his hand in front of Klendel's face. "Hello? Are we home?"

Klendel looked back down at him, taking him in as if realizing he was there for real. "Shut up," he muttered, trying to place himself back in the memory for just a few more moments, long enough to reach her and be her pillar of support, to feel perversely happy that it was his turn to return the favor and let her lean on him. The man - he was probably in charge of something, Klendel decided - puffed himself up at the indignant remark, and launched himself into a tirade that did very little to show how late he was. "Shut up," Klendel muttered again, this time a little louder, but it was like a bicycle trying to argue right of way with a bulldozer. The lecture split his attention and the vivid feelings he was trying to recall became significantly less so. He scrabbled and clutched at the grains of sand slipping out of his head, but they fell through his fingers and returned to the unfeeling void that was his memory.

But a few missed their destination, and fell on a scale somewhere, where a pile had been building for centuries. Slowly, it began to sway, then tipped over, slamming into place in a new position. Klendel felt an unrecognizable feeling well up in his - no, not unrecognizable. He'd felt it once before, and never since. Rage. It blossomed inside of him, filling the hollow places in his psyche that had replaced it when it vanished, consuming him and redirecting him.

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, and rammed a mental spike into the man's head, hard enough to make him physically recoil as if struck. Mental barriers sprouted up in his path, some powerful, many-layered protections made out of fond childhood memories and late nights spent with friends, and some malformed, hastily constructed from workplace fantasies and fleeting pleasures, but they might as well have not been there. In fact, they did more harm than good - every time he broke through one of the fortifications, he absorbed a few snippets of the memories making it up, and as the man's defenses began to run out, the snippets became more and more informative. By the time he'd reached his destination - the man's fears - Klendel had learned much more than he'd bargained on.

He withdrew to find the man - Opal, that had been in one of the snippets - on his knees, propping his torso up with his arms as he trembled and dry-heaved towards the tiling. Klendel planted his foot on Opal's back and pushed downwards, forcing him to lie down on his stomach. He looked up at the Tireless Men, wondering if they would intervene, but they simply stood still, passive as always. Nobody was going through the door. No action was to be taken.

Satisfied, Klendel turned his attention downwards. "Now, Opal, I've found a really fun game to play with friends. I call it Questions. Normally, the two participants will alternate asking and answering questions, but this time I'm going to mix things up." He put some more weight on Opal's back. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Then I'm going to let you go. You'll run. I'll chase you. For every question you answer truthfully, I'll wait an extra thirty seconds before I start chasing you. And if I'm really happy with your answers, I might not even tell the Kings you're a double agent." Opal's shoulders sagged. Klendel started asking his questions.

---

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?" Cedric asked, having to raise his voice slightly as he crashed the heads of two Tireless Men together, utterly destroying their complex and expensive circuitry. "Usually that's what the princesses want me to do."

Harmon stooped to sift through the broken remains of one of the other machines Cedric had already destroyed. "My legs haven't given out yet. Besides, you should focus on killing the androids." She pulled some components out of the wreckage, inspected them carefully, and then either stuffed them in her bag or dropped them in a second pile according to a ruleset only she understood.

"Hey!" Harmon looked up at Cedric's call to see that he had gutted the handpieces of one of the Tireless Men and fitted them over his own hands like a particular gaudy and ill-fitting pair of gauntlets. "These could come in..." He looked at her pointedly. "...handy." He started laughing far too loudly, trying to pretend he wasn't watching Harmon carefully to gauge her reaction. Harmon tried to force some girlish giggling and got a little squeak out before her throat realized what she was trying to do and stopped cooperating. Cedric's one-sided guffaws quickly turned into a loud throat clearing.

"Well!" he started again. "We should probably get moving!" He dropped the gauntlets on the ground and hurried ahead, looking for something to break. Harmon trotted after him, picking the discarded gauntlets up with the vague idea of searching them, but then dropped them immediately with a clunk that Cedric probably heard. She knew she was going to have to let him down eventually - he couldn't have possibly thought she'd have found that pun funny - but she knew that having him think there was at least a possibility of interest meant he'd protect her, and although she hated the idea of relying on him for safety, she was pragmatic enough to quash her misgivings in the interest of her own survival.

Another Tireless Man dropped from the ceiling ahead and Cedric leaped on it vigorously, clearly glad to have something physical to pin his annoyance on. He gripped an arm and, with a violent pull, separated it from the torso, tossing it behind him. Harmon watched him happily dismember the android, but her mind was on more important matters. What was going on in his head, she wondered? Even if he protected her to the end, one of them would still have to die, if how things had worked so far was any indication. She watched as Cedric slammed his hand into the android's chest, making a sizeable dent and sending it reeling, and then realized his angle: she was just a challenge. He was likely used to his women waiting patiently for him to kill the dragon and then taking them to bed. She almost nodded to herself - it made perfect sense. More importantly, it meant she knew how to act to keep his protection without actually compromising her principles. At least, she had an idea. Putting it in action would be a little more difficult.

"Hey!" Oh no, not again. Cedric held up the severed head of a Tireless Man. "I think we're headed in the right direction!"

---

"Whose coronation is this?" Klendel sat on Opal's back, staring at the Tireless Men carefully in case they changed their minds about ignoring the interrogation. He'd spent his first few questions figuring out where he was in the palace and learning who the important players were. The fear factor was wearing off and Opal was bound to start trying to get away with lies sooner or later, so he'd prioritized things he needed to know right away first. Now he was starting to hit the gray areas where he just needed more details instead of the whole story. It wouldn't be long before Opal made an escape attempt, either, and Klendel was worried the Tireless Men might let Opal through the door but not him.

Opal, for his part, did little more than struggle weakly under Klendel. "The Kings'. The new one's mostly, but also the old ones'." Klendel reached down and twisted his ear. "Guh - the new King will be coronated and then later absorbed by the old Kings. They'll add his consciousness to theirs and renew their life energy. The monarchy will continue unchanged." Another twist of the ear. "That's all I know!"

The facts seemed to fit, Klendel decided. The Kings certainly looked like they'd seen better days, and an artificially extended lifespan could explain how they were so powerful. If that was the case, they needed to be stopped tonight, while they were at their weakest. While they were distracted by the transfer of power would likely be the best time to make his move. Maybe, if he timed it right, both the Kings, new and old, could be displaced with a single move. He hated that he had no idea how any of this worked, but as much as he wanted to be on top, now was not the time for a beginner's course in magic. "When and where will the absorption be happening?"

"Tonight, in the King's throne room, just after the coronation. Which is in a few hours!" Klendel's fingers on Opal's ear prompted the hasty addition of the second portion. "I don't know exactly how long we have left, but if you'd let me sketch a time symbol I could tell you." Klendel was almost disappointed at how obvious the escape attempt was. Taking advantage of what you knew and the foe didn't was common sense, but this was just sad. It was clear that Opal had never been in a situation like this before. On the other hand, Klendel knew he wasn't likely to get much more out of Opal at this point - the threat had passed, and he was now focused on finding avenues of escape. Restraining Opal here forever wasn't an option, even if he were physically capable of doing so; it was only a matter of time before one or both of their absences were noted, or someone happened down the corridor and found them. Killing him was also impractical, and might even set off the Tireless Men. Besides, Klendel reasoned, if Opal decided he wouldn't be able to escape on his own, he might resort to setting off some sort of alarm or risk calling in backup and trust his word would hold up better than Klendel's - which it almost certainly would. Now was the best time to let the attempt go through, before it became something Klendel couldn't handle.

Klendel ran through the plan in his head. Opal would sketch his "time symbol," which would then push Klendel off, burst into bright light, spin them both around, or do something similar to separate the two. He would then either run back the way he'd came, in the way he'd been going, or through the Tireless Men. Retracing his steps was the least likely - he wouldn't want anyone questioning why he fled away from probable help and support. Forging ahead would put him on course for whatever he was late for, and if it was close enough and Klendel gave chase, might allow Opal to blame his lateness on the shadow. On the other hand, the Tireless Men might let him pass but would certainly block Klendel, and they were a lot closer than wherever Opal had been heading to. Close enough, Klendel noted, that if Opal threw him off and ran, he'd be able to make it between them before Klendel could get to him. That was the route he was going to take, Klendel decided.

He nodded his assent, and Opal spent a couple of moments sketching a symbol. It flew up and slammed into Klendel, propelling him into the wall across from the Tireless Men, his gear connecting with a loud CLANG. He loosened his shadowflesh, and the symbol flew through him and impacted the wall, sending cracks racing out across it. Those few moments were more than enough for Opal to scramble to the safety of the androids. Klendel didn't bother giving chase - he'd already tried and failed to get through the door, after all - and simply straightened himself out, liquid shadow flowing in and filling the hole he'd made in his shoulder to let the symbol pass through him. He suddenly had a lot to consider.