Scene #10191: Path of Glory: All That Glitters is Gold

Owner	Pose
Michael Demiurgos	Those who have an innate sense of the workings of the astral plan can feel the change that takes place as the afternoon wears on on the third of March. The sudden coalescense of ebb and flow that speaks of a massive shaping of energy there. Something big is happening on the other side of the veil. Those who decide to go over via whatever methods they have (be it innate power or the special key in Sara Pezinni's care) find that their passports to the Land of Imagination is subverted somehow and find themselves before the entrance to a massive walled maze of shimmering gold. A labyrinth. The sky is a dull pink. The color just before the sun drops below the horizon, but there is no gradient in it. Nor are their clouds or stars visible in the sky. There is also a pressure in the air as if something encases the entire landscape at just the height of the fifteen foot walls of the maze before them. Flight over the area is likley not in the cards for those with the power or ability. But a number of questions remain. Why is it here? How is it the only location in the astral open to those who travel over? How did it get created so quickly? And as with most labyrinths, most importantly: What does it hide within?
Terry O'Neil	"Curioser." This wasn't exactly what Leo had mentioned when he gave him those exercises for astral projection, once Vorpal had confided in him about his new knowledge of Wonderland's liminal status between the borders of Fae and Dream. And by not exactly, he means absolutely nothing at all alike. The Cheshire Cat's astral form is not attired in his usual threads, but he is wearing a rather dapper vest and shirtsleeves combo, some dress slacks and, surprisingly, a top hat and a cane. For whatever reason. His subconscious thought it a good idea, apparently. He glances at the fifteen-foot walls around the entrance to the labyrinth, and taps one of them with his cane absent-mindedly as he says, "If this place turns out to be presided over by a man whose hairdo looks like a fuzzy melon just exploded, wearing tights with an armadillo stuffed down the crotch and singing about magic dances, I may decide to never go back," he muses.
Phoebe Beacon	"And curiouser." comes a familiar voice. Phoebe, unlike her physical self, is a being made of light -- a bit like a magical girl caught midway through a transformation sequence -- being of light with eyes and a healing wound in the middle of her chest. She crouches down nearby the Cheshire, and her eyes narrow a moment. "If you break into song, I'm leaving you here." she comments quietly, and then turns back. "... my bet is always on a minotaur anyway." she comments quietly to him.
Sara Pezzini	Although the change in the astral plane, the shifting of energies was something Sara could feel thanks to Witchblade, getting over there however was another matter entirely. Cael had told her 'any door', so once she was certain who was planning to come and who needed the physical way in, and the key itself urged her toward a door... that door ended up being the one to the den in her home. No idea /why/ that was the one, but it felt right, so the call went out. With the old key in hand, she set it into the lock and opened the door, stepping through physically. Witchblade was of course along for the ride, in case his services were required, but this was an investigation, not a battle... hopefully. Labyrinth. Sure, she'd seen the movie, and if there were any worms talking with Cockney accents, she was leaving. "Nice reference," she offers to the dapper man with the cane, no idea who he is but clearly he's meant to be here cause he's talking about Bowie from the same movie her brain is hoping to avoid the worm from.
John Constantine	"Everything's gotta be a rip off from mythology," speaks a voice not unlike John Constantine's, save that it echoes from within the mind and carries more authority than it should, "And you might say 'Oh, John, mythology is a rip-off of this' but to you I say 'Which is formed by the consensus of thought?' Aha, got you there." In the astral, his appearance is not what would be expected. For one, he is a silvery form with glowing green eyes. His typical trench coat is the same emerald green and now sports a hood, which he has drawn up to cast most of his face in shadows. A smoldering cigarette is clutched between his knuckles, though it seems fashioned from the same stuff as him. "Meg, we're here, luv," he announces, before holding open his coat to reveal an endless starfield and shining light through which his wife can pass.
Jonathan Sims	Jonathan Sims isn't supposed to be here, just now. He was /supposed/ to arrive back in the physical realm, now that his body is restored and he has a heartbeat again. But as he and Cael Becker disembark from the barque that carries Ra through the underworld of Duat, and step through the barrier of the sunrise, they find themselves faced with... a labyrinth. Jon's wearing a kurta, a red tunic that reaches just below his knees, and gold trousers, and has multicolored wings in gold and teal and blue. There's a circlet on his head that bears a black ostrich feather. Otherwise he looks much like his normal self, if with some subtle differences. Still missing an arm, but many of the scars and wear and tear of the last few months have disappeared. He certainly doesn't look like he's in desperate need of several good meals to fill out again. He's holding Cael's hand when they step through the barrier, and keeps hold of it as he peers up at the maze. "...I think we took a left turn at Alexandria," he comments. "We're in the Astral Plane. We're... not supposed to be in the Astral Plane." They're quite solid, the both of them. He doesn't /quite/ notice all the other people around yet; he's still adjusting to the disorientation of being alive again and yet also not on the right plane of existence at all.
Meggan Constantine	Dream is just about a birthright for the intrepid wanderer moving between borderlands into the wild beyond of imagination. Meggan has slipped within these everchanging realms oft before. Their influence normally would bring a smile to her lips. Not so when the static confines give shape to walls and a pressure cooker lid with no right to be there. "One day, they'll learn. Consensus of realities is a dangerous philosophical exercise here, innit?" The empath's voice holds the lyrical harmonies that her true form does, complex melodies woven through. "/Vorpal/?" Oh, she spots him right off. "Fancy making your acquaintance here. That means..." Her form here is deliriously radiant and far from static, constantly changing in ways subtle to staggering. Rainbow-coloured braids and star-flowers crown her head, and she has the height and warm olive skin of her mother. A few moments later and her complexion shifts to an alabaster pallor, bleached of rose, hair going white as certain English roses. While she remains female, mostly, everything else is up for grabs. Age to build to height. She slips out from John's coated silhouette, touching the tip of her nose and taking in the others after drinking in her surroundings. "Hullo. Phoebe." A beat. "Phoebe?" That wound is a worrisome thing.
Cael Becker	Cael does indeed hold to Jon's left hand - and in her free hand is her cell phone. Yes, she was that ready to snap a selfie, and send it off to Martin, so finding herself confronted with a pink sky and a maze- is an unexpected surprise. "Huh," she remarks. Her phone is tucked back into the pocket of her SHIELD tactical gear - which has been augmented by the bluish-silver armor the amulet at her throat has manifested. "This is not what I- I mean, for fuck's sake, is just going home //too// much bother?" she asks, tilting her head up towards the pink sky, her blonde hair shifting to reveal the blue, teal, and golden yellow dyes worked into the lower layers. "FUCK YOU." She's not even sure who she's cursing. God? Michael? Uriel? Maybe it's Gaea's fault this time? Fuck whoever it is. Her gaze turns back to the entrance to the Labyrinth, and the familiar people in some unfamiliar forms gathering there. "Sara!" she calls brightly, lifting the hand she clasps with Jon. "Look what I found!" she declares brightly. "Now what the fuck is this shit?"
Michael Demiurgos	Unfortunately for Terry, this particular labyrinth -is- presided over by a man whose hair looks like a fuzzy exploded melon in tights. Fortunately, the black tights aren't the most revealing of David Bowie's attire from that particular movie. "Welcomed esteemed... coleagues? No. That word won't do at all. Advasaries? Perhaps that works better" Michael, the Archangel, says from atop the leading wall of the glittering maze. He is stylized just as Bowie was from that classic of movies, complete with shimmering black cloak with the high almost vampiric collar. "I am so happy that the change here was met with such interest. And such important guests to visit as well" he says staring at the pale form of Costantine. "You must be so -honored- to hold power untold in your grasp, Hand of the Almighty." he says to the green coated figure before looking over the others. "And Jonathan. So stubborn that not even the touch of Reclamation can contain you. I look forward to seeing if the Avatar of Truth is as formidable an adversary," he smiles all the same. "Well I hope my little project is enough to keep you entertained for some time." His cheer drops. "I would advise against attempting to leave. I've locked the passages back. Even for those native, escaping this particular location is... ill advised if you wish to remain whole." The cheer returns and he seems to finally notice his attire. He blinks at it. "Mortal imagination is such an amazing thing..." he says spreading the dark cape out a bit to reveal his own shimmering expanse beneath with a grin before looking at those gathered. "I wonder which of you is the babe with the power?"
Terry O'Neil	"Phoebe! You're looking positively /radiant/, dahling. Rest assured, I won't be breaking into song." The Cheshire cat purses his lips and glances at the walls again, "So the party is assembling, I take it? Figures, my first astral trip and I get to do it on someone else's charter plane." There is something different about Vorpal in the Astral plane. From time to time, there is a glow that seems to want to break through, as if he were one of those opaque glass lamps being lit from within by a bright candle. It is very fleeting and then vanishes, as if a hand had moved in front of the candle to hide the brightness. "I can handle minotaurs. Remember Ferdinand at the Embassy?" And then there is a Sara, to whom he tips his top hat, and then the Constantines make their appearance. "Was there a dinner date invitation that I somehow missed?" he says, and then his eyes widen as Cael and Jon make their entrance. "Jon!" the Cheshire cat calls out, and he looks like he is about to run over and Tigger-tackle the couple when something makes him stop dead on his heels. A voice. And then he turns around to look up at the man who just appeared. "Well. Wouldn't you look at that? It's good to know that you can have all of the powers of a demiurse on hand and still be a complete and absolute failure at looking as good as David Bowie," he says, both hands resting on his cane handle. "I guess that even if you dress a pig in silk, at the end of the say he's still a pig," the Cheshire cat grins.
Phoebe Beacon	"Ferdinand isn't from Minos and isn't a child-eating monster?" Phoebe comments back to Terry as she draws up to a stand to give recognition to everyone coming in. "Constantine. Meggan... Congratulations are in order, I hear." Phoebe replies, perhaps a little stiffly. "Really wasn't a lot of time at the Sephirot to bring it up." Phoebe states, and the glowing hand moves to scratch at her sternum, about where that wound in the astral form is. Cael and John are giving a glowing reception and a wave, as is Sara, and Phoebe then turns back to the walls, and looks up. The eyes on her glowing form narrow, the edges getting a little frayed.
Sara Pezzini	"I knew you'd do it!" Sara calls to Cael, waving to both her and Jon before starting to move toward them. She gets to take a few steps in joy and gratefulness toward the couple, then Michael appeared in what clearly was an attempt at being Bowie from the movie. Anyone else, literally... any one else, and Sara wouldn't have spun toward him with more than the desire to un-Bowie him. There was a long list of things she wanted to do to him. "Oh great, you're here... yay," she says dryly, no emotional, completely neutral and blank as she stares at Michael, then adds, "Ew."
John Constantine	"You know it, Champ," John answers, splaying out his hands to either side, "Look at me, wielding a portion of the Presence's power and I'm not abusing it to turn reality into a fuckin' cuckoo clock. Not nearly as hard as you made it out to be." He pauses for a moment to regard the form Michael has appeared in, quirking an eyebrow. "You sure about that get-up, mate? Think he turned out to be a nonce. Hard to take you seriously as a universe-ending omnipotent power when you look like a fella's gone the fiddle. Fuck me, what's next? Jim'll Fix It?" A shrug of his shoulders. "Anyway, what's say we see if the Hand of the Almighty can smack your noncey little face, eh?"
Jonathan Sims	"The rumors of my demise were not remotely exaggerated," Jon says to the others with a grin, bracing himself for impending Tigger-tackle when, indeed, he's interrupted by that /voice/. He peers up at Michael and calls, "When I asked the Presence to give you the ability to change and grow, I didn't think /this/ is what you'd do with it." A pause. "If you're just up and stealing the work of some of the best creative minds in history, does that mean all we need to do is declare 'you have no power over me'?" He quirks a brow and then adds, "Actually, John, I always rather liked that movie. Good music, excellent costumes, and the core of the story is about a girl discovering her own power and love for her family is stronger than the lure of David Bowie's admittedly aesthetically pleasing form. So I suppose I can't blame Saint Michael for choosing it it for his first foray into more... creative challenges." He glances around and adds, "I, ahh... kind of met God after I died. And asked Them to let the archangels... grow up. Change, learn, innovate." He nods to the labyrinth wall, because he's not willing to let go of Cael's hand. "This is evidently the result."
Meggan Constantine	The Constantines might be dressed to the... sixes? Nines isn't really their style. Or it might not be, though Meggan's veiled garments shift to the moment with a definitive lack of stuffy, flounced ballgown or huge puffed sleeves to really suit the moment. Michael's singular voice ringing through might settle her sartorial choices a little more distinctly. Monochromes snap into place, her hair a shock of grey and wisping auburn as if Yoshitaka Amano decided to paint in surreal drifts of shadow and light. "Always welcome to a seat at the table," says the Tuath after the Cheshire Cat inquires of dinner invitations. "Evidently a Micheline two star affair? Aspiring too high, one?" Her own sense of humour lands a piercing little prod with the subtle alteration, wordplay rising to the occasion. Her fingers twinge as though craving the succor of a stringed instrument, plucking out soundless tunes to accompany the threnody made from mildly glossed laughter at the back of her throat. Swallowing devours the sound like a pearl clutched by a water dragon in covetous claws, not to be heard elsewhere. For Phoebe, it is easier to smile; sly gone suddenly sweet, as her angular features soften a tinge. "We can spill tea and nosh on a good bite to eat after this. A post-show meal is good time as any to catch up?" Whatever else, the Astral allows the mind to catch up to her overclocked intuition and emotive sensibilities, and she all but radiates warm welcome to Jon and Cael after the potential bombardment by cat. Fingers wiggle. "You suppose he took that form to compensate for something lacking?" she asides to John. "Let's not be too harsh, he went for playful games. Better than the war bit again. Got to be a stretch after contemplation for an aeon."
Cael Becker	Cael's grin at Sara immediately changes to a glare, that she directed up at Michael, and his ridiculous outfit. "Un-fucking-believeable. Can you not give Jon a fucking rest? You killed him. That wasn't enough? You can't even let him go home and see his husband and daughter before //kidnapping// him?" she grits out in an angry tone. "...Phoebe. I don't suppose you have my damned sword hidden on you somehow, do you?" she asks coolly. She would love to jam some hellfire so far up Michael's arse-! When as a quiet aside she adds, "Really, Jon? The ability to change and grow? //That's// what you ask the presence for? I would have gone a... different route." Probably similar to something Lady Death would have requested. She and Cael get along for a reason.
Michael Demiurgos	Michael smiles at Terry. "You can hardly blame this on -me-, Cheshire. After all, this is the world of mortal dreams. Imagination or not that I've been given, I am still influencedby the greater number of you all." Constantine's commentary makes him sigh. "As much as I would love to see which of us is the greater now that you've taken it upon yourself to become... what you are. That would ruin all the fun I have in store for you and those like you." "Your wife has the greater insight in this endeavor. I am done with large scale conflict. Instead, I wish to test you all. The rules are simple." He rises a bit in the air, above the oppressive invisible wall. "As with any labyrith, survive and get to the center. And just so there is no -cheating-." He extends a hand toward Constantine and Meggan and the pair of them feel the pull of the waking world exert its inexorable force on them both, summoning them back to the other side. "I will have to look into just what the Spectre force is compared to my own abilities. Goodbye, Jon and daughter of Gaea. We will have our encounter soon enough." With that there is a flash of light and the glass orb that appears in his place floats away deeper into the depths of the maze.
Terry O'Neil	"God, I am glad I wasn't the protagonist of the movie because I would have failed. There's no family that could have more allure than His Bowieness. But he has now passed from the mortal realm and thus cannot tempt me any longer," Vorpal comments to Jon, approaching him. "You are Not Dead!" he says, glancing from Jon to Cael, "This requires a celebration. A party. I insist. I'll organize it, I'll---" his ears fold back and he rolls his eyes at Michael's voice, "We'll talk about this later. Yes, I rather do prefer that he play games than war games, although," he turns around to speak loudly enough for Michael to hear, even though he most likely can hear anything Vorpal says anyways, "Games are best played when voluntarily joined instead of being kept captive under the threat of being torn apart. Just saying here!" He says, pointing at Michael with his cane, "If your game is so weakballs that you /have/ to threaten your players to keep playing, that's on you, my man, not us. Just ask the Invisible Jazz Hand Of The Almighty over here," he gestures towards John, "He knows all about what makes games fun, you? not so mu-" But when he turns back, Michael has vanished. "Oh, isn't that just like him? He monologues, and then he leaves his balls behind." The Cheshire tucks his cane under his arm and looks at the Labyrinth. "Well... nothing ventured, five in the bush, right?" he gestures to the entrance with his head, and begins to saunter therewards, "Do we skip and sing about seeing wizards, or would that cause too much reality dissonance because of conflicting intellectual properties?"
Phoebe Beacon	"If you were the protagonist of the movie, Cat, it'd be more cross of Sister Act and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. And not-- this 80's fantasy stuff." Phoebe comments, her voice wavers a moment, and she gives a wry little smile to Meggan "I'd like that, once we're back on the other side." And then she breathes out a moment, looking up to the walls, and then looking to Cael. "I'll summon it back when I'm ready to, because you need your hands unburnt to make sure Jon doesn't wander off." There's a thin quality to her voice, strings of light coming off her form as she tries to form a ball of the light threads. The wound in her aura pulses a moment. "You cause too much reality dissonance because of conflicting intellectual properties." she states quietly to Terry, the dark tealish eyes of the light form looking back to the Cheshire, and then the huge walls. "I don't suppose anyone has lipstick or a big ball of thread? I left mine in my other astral body."
Sara Pezzini	Now that Michael said his piece and disappeared, and all of Sara's eye rolling was done, she moves over to Cael and Jon without pause because both of them need a hug, or maybe it's her who needs one. The offered hugs are quick if they are accepted, before she says, "Was starting to get a little worried, wasn't expecting it to take six days, but I'm glad you're both alright." As she steps back, she looks toward Phoebe to say, "Sorry, no lipstick here. Just a Chapstick." And then she glances around to those present, even watching the 'Cat' head for the entrance. "We going to do this logically, or just start wanting aimlessly?" is then asked. "No idea how large this thing actually is, and I'm pretty sure that if I take flight to check the size it will be considered 'cheating'."
John Constantine	"You wha-" John begins to speak, only to find himself disappearing. He takes a moment to look around as he becomes less and less substantial, falling out of sync with this reality and disappearing back to another one. His last gesture before he's fully out of sight? Flipping Michael the bird. Then he's gone.
Jonathan Sims	"I asked it for all of them. Well, the archangels. Not that they operate outside their Purpose, but that they can /grow up/ within that Purpose, and stop turning to God to solve every problem. Figure out solutions on their own." Jon squeezes Cael's hand and says, placatingly, "Honestly I'd rather get this out of the way before going home, love. If Michael's that /desperate/ for our attention, I suppose we can oblige. Though if he was going to miss me so much, maybe he shouldn't have /killed me/!" This last he shouts at the now-empty space at the top of the wall, with the faintest of glowers. He turns to focus on the others for a moment, smiling. He summons up a glowing emerald hand to wave at Meggan, returns Sara's hug, then says to Terry, "My husband was organizing a karaoke party, actually, but... I honestly have no idea how long we've been gone nor what progress he might have made in my absence. Six days? So I was dead for twelve in total? Well.. that tracks. I definitely don't plan to 'wander off' any longer, I keep getting dates confused." He looks around and adds, a bit more seriously, "We fixed the imbalance of the universe, by the by. Fed a leaf of the World Tree to Ammit, which sent Gaea's power to re-route the whole system that had the Old Ones stealing souls." He frowns. "That makes it sound easier than it was. Cael, Caitlin Fairchild, and Lady Death all had to hold her down so I could shove the leaf down her throat, and we all got some nasty cuts and bruises in the process. But... it's done, so now we just need to deal with... this." He nods toward the labyrinth's walls. After a moment's thought, he conjures up a ball of twine. "Of course, in the movie it's nothing so simple as can be defeated by Ariadne's trick, but who knows if Michael's going to go that route." John disappearing gets a blink and a sigh. "Well, shit. That was rude of Michael. Does anyone know what's going on with John? What's this 'Hand of the Almighty' business?"
Cael Becker	Cael gets one of those deer-in-headlight looks as Terry descends on them, enthusiastically party-planning. "Did I just get voluntold to attend a party?" she mumbles at Jon out of the corner of her mouth. She hesitates to think what a party would be like - put together by //this// man. She suspects that 'exceedingly uncomfortable' (for her at least) would probably be a fair descriptor. She returns Sara's hug - though the other woman's words cause her to stiffen as she lets out a quiet, "Oh, fuck. ...six days? It felt like... hours. Martin, and Agnes, and Alis must be out of their minds!" she remarks with sympathy and concern, all the more anxious to get home. But no. There are games to be played. "My hands are //fine// Phoebe - and they heal up without too much trouble. I'd really appreciate my sword," she repeats, giving her a mildly put-out look at the delay. As for repairing the universe, Cael remarks, "How many people can say they've wrestled a lippodile? It was an interesting experience." Giving Jon's hand a gentle tug towards the labyrinth she adds, "Let's get his shit over with, Oh Great God Ra, whose body is the earth, and who lights the world and grants bread to the worthy, and doom to the unworthy, and so forth, and so on. And no, I have no idea what his deal is, but it cannot possibly be any weirder than the past 8 hours. Or six days. Or whatever it's been." It has been a seriously strange day. "...shit. Did I leave Martin with enough food?" For Bear. She means for Bear.
Meggan Constantine	Call it a vanishing act par excellence. Michael banishes the Spectre in John's form. For a moment, Meggan lingers a little more cohesively, returning the archangel's sentiment with a smirk. But the commands of the Demiurgos and a twining promise forces her to shuttle along a different forking route, the damnable cursed of the Laughing Magicians probably hastening her right along. The landing on the other side is more than a little hard, finding the girl flying up to hit the ceiling. "/Bloody--!/"
Michael Demiurgos	The open cavity of the labryinth yawns and appears to be a straight shot for about fifty feet before taking a sharp ninety degree turn to the left. It seems any divergence will have to be seen within the confines of the maze. A thunderous roar of some creature or perhaps the shifting of rocks rumbles deep inside the maze itself. It seems that there is more to the golden passages than just twists, turns, and dead ends.
Terry O'Neil	The Cheshire cat smirks, and raises a hand. A twinkle of light, and glitter appears in a little mount nestled in his hand. "You do with the yarn, and I will mark with the thing that /nothing/ can take out, the very craft herpes of the world, infused with the magic of chaos. Possibly the most evil thing in the world." He glances back at the team and winks, "Aren't you glad it's in responsible hands?" His ears twitch, and in an idle gesture he throws some glitter at the walls, to check for those illusory passages, "Sounds like there's a Rock n' Roll concert up in the distance, or we may end up meeting a Ludo expy. Should we continue onwards and head towards the very obvious narrative bottleneck in order to avoid Ludo-Narrative Dissonance?"
Phoebe Beacon	"Say 'Dissonance' one more time, Cat --" Phoebe states though she seems very much on edge with John and Meggan's sudden banishment. She looks back to Jon. "Meggan took John to meet her grandfather. Apparently," she lifts off the ground a couple inches, and she floats down the way, careful not to touch the ground, her brilliance dimming slightly with her mood. "... her grandfather approved of him. But you know how things go."
Sara Pezzini	String. Splotched of glitter. Good markers to keeping track in the end, though the straight shot to the corner makes it important at the moment. One direction, one corner, no where else to go really then the one, singular way provided, which of course was clear indication... as Terry said... of a trap waiting to happen around that corner. Sara wasn't entirely certain why John and Meggan had been 'cast out', why their presence or possible actions might be considered cheating, so she was extremely leery to try anything beyond walking with the group toward the trap waiting. "Should I bother armoring up," she asks in all seriousness. "Or is that cheating? I don't get this, the rules, or what we're even supposed to be doing aside from getting through a labyrinth that fucktard created... no prior knowledge, no clues here... so do we just walk into the obvious trap?"
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe touches one foot on the floor of the Labyrinth, and glances back at the others, her glowing form shifting for a moment before a pair of rose-gold glass wings, tinged with copper and red metal appear at either side, and she gives a flap, trying to ascend above the walls to get a better picture of what they're looking at. Totally safe, right?
Jonathan Sims	"I'm never living that down, am I?" Jon grumbles to Cael. "It came with the territory! I /had/ to do all the posturing as Ra in order to /reborn/. I seem to recall you having quite the objection to my staying down there." He eyes her for a moment, then reluctantly drops her hand and steps forward, eyeing the maze. "Clearly if Crete had had glitter they wouldn't have needed Theseus' help," he notes to the Cheshire. But he keeps out the ball of twine anyhow, and begins dropping it on the ground as they head into the maze. "Given that, I would presume that using our abilities isn't going to break the rules." He glances aside to Sara. "He wants a fair fight. I know, I know, that's... a stunning thought, but he actually does want to 'test' us. I think he respects us? Well, he seems to respect /me/, and if he doesn't want to respect my friends he can bite me." Phoebe's flight is watched curiously. Could they just... go up and over?
Cael Becker	"Never, not ever," Cael confirms cheerfully. "I mean, I won't //always// bring it up but-" She gestures with one hand towards Jon's attire. Just LOOK at him! "That whole trip was nuts. And apparently it took me //six days//. So I desperately need a bath. And a nap." Actually, she's not joking about the bath - there's bits of blood and gore here and there in her hair, and her clothes, but she's trying to ignore it. "I don't think armor will be a problem, Sara. Mine doesn't seem to be an issue."
Michael Demiurgos	The moment Phoebe clears the height of the wall her form shatters into a myriad of rose gold shards and she is no more in the astral. Going over seems to not be a good idea. Further in the left turn is met by another long passage before coming to a T intersection going left and right. Turning back to look the way one came from reveals a long straightaway. It seems that a cursory glance going back the way one travels is not a sure method of retracing one's steps. Again, a thunderous rumble comes from deeper in the maze. It's closer this time than it was before. Whatever the source is, it is on the hunt.
Terry O'Neil	The Cheshire cat narrows his eyes, looking to this way and that, and then jumps when Phoebe is also voted off the island. "... oh gosh, I hope she'll be okay..." His attention returns to the intersection, and he sighs. "I am going to choose to go left. We can stick together or we can split up in groups. Splitting up covers more territory. Going together means we can all use our talents to help each other. But I will choose left." He reaches over and summons several Glitterbombs to taint the walls and the floors of several feet of the left corridor with that glittery plague. "I suspect the walls and floors might re-align like in the movie, so this might be moot. But, you never know, right?" He turns leftward, heading down that way.
Sara Pezzini	Wearing one of many 'cast away' outfits Sara now owns, she gives the mental cue to Witchblade that he can now shred with glee what she is wearing to armor her body. Why he loved doing that so much she will never understand, but it was one of those things he /really/ enjoyed so she accepted it. A thought comes mind as the tendrils of metal wrap the armor around her body, shreds of clothing going in every direction... what if this is much like the Labyrinth from the movie? Positioning herself dead center of the passage they are walking down, the tendrils writhe up her arms to form a three foot baton in each hand so she can tap along the walls as they go. She is attempting to ensure that they remain solid and that the group doesn't miss some sort of magical opening like the Sarah in the movie did, and that little Cockney accented worm pointed out to her. When they reach the new intersection, she looks between the cat, Jon and Cael. "I don't think splitting up is a good idea," she states. "Yes, we could cover more ground, but we have no form of communication and whom ever doesn't find the way out, will have no way to know that others found it, if we even do. I think we should stick together."
Jonathan Sims	Jon reaches out as Phoebe shatters, calling out, "Phoebe--shit!" He shakes his head. "Damn it, at least he's not /killing/ people anymore, but... /shit/." Another sharp shake of the head. "Alright. Yes, stick together, we don't want to lose anyone, and even if John and Meggan and Phoebe are fine, Michael /has/ proven he's willing to kill to get a point across. Nobody else need take a trip to the lands of the dead." He keeps unrolling the ball of twine... which doesn't seem to get any smaller as he does so. Magic! He frowns at the rumbling, and transfers the twine to his magical hand, and then takes an iron khopesh out of a gilt sword case hanging from his belt. Despite the electrum swirls along the blade, it's otherwise unadorned. "Here's hoping this /isn't/ going to include a fight... had plenty enough of those today already." In his mind, it hasn't even been 24 hours since he died, after all.
Cael Becker	"...you're sure she's alright?" Cael asks in a dubious tone, her gaze locked on the place where Phoebe had been a moment before. "I REALLY WANTED THAT SWORD YOU KNOW!" she adds loudly - as if that would help Phoebe hear her. It won't. "Surprising no one, I'm not letting Jon out of my sight until I return him to Martin," she points out flatly. "I owe Martin and Agnes at least that much." Glancing aside at Jon she adds, "You're still stuck with me." She doesn't actually //say// neener neener neener - but you can almost taste it on the air. "But yes, I agree with the stick together sentiment." With everyone arming themselves, Cael summons her own weapon - her brightly gleaming doubl-headed axe held in both hands as they continue forward in the maze, a determined expression on her features. "I wouldn't mind a few more fights but- this was very much not my plan for the afternoon." She takes a few more steps then asks quietly, "Sara - how've Martin, Agnes, and Alis been holding up?"
Michael Demiurgos	Turning left leads to another left turn after 20 feet. And that leads to a lever set in the glimmering floor. Terry, being the agent of chaos that he is pulls it without waiting and the walls of the labyrinth shake and the floor slides under their feet as the entire maze rotates. When the shift stops the party is faced with a new direction. Instead of a dead end, the path continues forward before reaching a three way intersection. A baying howl splits the air, coming from the right and close. It seems whatever is hunting them has their scent the scrape of what is unmistakably nails on metal is any indicator.
Terry O'Neil	Vorpal quickly withdraws his hand from the lever, and winces. "Sorry! Sorry! It... I just couldn't resist it!" he says sheepishly as the world spins around and re-arranges itself. And then, there's the baying. "Werewolves. Or are they Whyandwerewolves? Or Thereforewolves?" he mutters, ears twitching in the direction of the sound. "Okay... you guys choose the next direction. I'm going to try something..." Facing the rightmost tunnel, he extends his hand and focuses, summoning up his powers of illusion to create a scent- the sharp, stinging scent of ammonia, to spread down the corridor. "I'll try to slow them down just a bit. If they're tracking us by scent, this might slow them down just a bit. Maybe. Hopefully?"
Sara Pezzini	The weapon choice was really to ensure that Sara could reach both walls, she had no intentions of missing some opening due to camera angle... and even as she thought that, tapping away at the walls, she realized she was sounding more and more like Wade in her own head and didn't care that she did. "Martin took a trip to Italy," she comments as she taps along the walls quietly. "Something about a physical archive, so I stayed with Agnes while he was gone. She's been surprisingly okay, praying regularly and just like me, convinced Jon would be fine." At this she looks back to Jon for a moment with a smile in her face. "I knew you'd be back, you have a destiny after all." She was going to talk about more, include a report about Bear being, well... Bear, when the world rotates. Intent on the tapping as she had been, not wanting to miss a possible secondary passage, she missed that Terry pulled a lever. "What the fu..." she spits out but is cut off by the baying. The left baton wraps back into the armor while the right one merely morphs and changes into the single intricate bastard sword that she usually wields. "I'm not putting my back to whatever that is," she states as she looks to the right, the direction the sound came from. "Better to deal with it now, face to race, rather then play the game of 'how are they following us' and thus letting them /be/ behind us."
Jonathan Sims	"No, I'm not--I'm just certain she's not /dead/," Jon replies to Cael. In a lower tone, "Don't mind being 'stuck' with you so much." He looks over at Sara and says, "As far as I know my destiny's done. It's really because of everyuone's determination and ingenuity that I came back. The gods would have accepted me staying down there. Whatever else they have in store... well, they haven't let me in on that, if there was anything." A pause. "I'm glad to hear Martin and Agnes are alright, though." He doesn't get a chance to comment on the lever-pulling before Vorpal does it, but blinks as the labyrinth shifts around them. He peers toward the rumbling sound for a long moment. "I think Sara's right," he says slowly. "We might actually want to face whatever it is. The beast in the Labyrinth must be conquered, after all, to truly solve the maze."
Cael Becker	"As am I," Cael agrees, wondering what Martin found for the Archive - just as the world spins around them. She raises her eyebrows at Terry, then rolls her eyes, before she turns towards the threatening corridor as well, giving her axe a few casual swings. "What about Alis? I mean - if we're both here, she should be here as well... Maybe she could-" What would happen to her sister's spirit if she was ejected from the Astral Plane like Phoebe had been? If she's forced away from both Cael AND Sara? "Alis, if you're here, don't cheat. Don't go through the walls. Don't go over them. Don't risk it," she says suddenly and firmly - with her gaze still fixed down the corridor to the right.
Michael Demiurgos	What comes around the corner is not a pack of wolves but a single one. But what this one lacks in numbers it more than makes up for in size. It's well over 10 feet long from snout to tail and easily 8 feet tall at the shoulder. The first traces of Terry's ammonia blast hit it and it leaps, clearing 20 feet across the ground and a good 10 feet in the air before landing on the other side of the party. Its jet black fur glistens in a few places with something dark red and its bared teeth are stained with rotting meat. As it eyes the four standing before it with golden glowing eyes, it speaks with a gravel filled throaty voice. "The Lord of Hosts commands that I am to bar your passage, so I come. I will rend flesh from bone and lap at the blood that will flow." A throaty growl erupts from deep within its chest before it charges forth. Its maw opens revealing an almost sharklike mouth filled with serated teeth as it hopes to tear into the shiniest of its current opponents; the glittertastic Vorpal.
Terry O'Neil	The Cheshire cat narrows his eyes. "... You are in the /wrong/ movie, G'Morky" he says as the creature comes for him. He extends his hands, seemingly eager to embrace the maw coming his way. There is a flash of chaos magic and the Cheshire attempts to summon an enormous chew toy inside that maw, a large rubbery bone chaos construct to appear vertically inside the mouth in an attempt to prop that maw open, at least for the time being, so that his team-mates can move in. "But unlike this one, /your/ movie was an abomination and an insult to the book it came from, so choke on this!"
Sara Pezzini	That was one hell of a large dog, not exactly what Sara had been expecting... but oh, there was more, so much more. Watching it leap over and past them, she spins herself around to face the beast even as it offers up the reason it's there, etc. etc. She hears it of course, she's not deaf, but the words simply mean nothing more than, 'I'm here to stop you.' Preparing for the charge, she's surprised to see it go for Terry, though really she shouldn't be. Dogs always chase cats, right? What really stunned her however wasn't Terry's words, no clue what he was talking about with a G'morky, no... it was him creating a giant chew toy that drew her attention and skidded her brain and her body to a complete stop. "What in the hell..." she breaths out, never having worked with Terry before she had no idea what he was, what he could do, or why of all the possible things in the world, he would make a giant chew toy. Was comedy really his angle? His comments thus far lead to that thought crossing her mind now.
Jonathan Sims	"So Michael is positioning himself as the Nothing? Or the Manipulators? Despair, lack of imagination, emptiness of purpose? I suppose he /does/ want to destroy reality and manipulate the human race through untruth." Jon smirks, then shakes his head and launches himself into the air--not very high, keeping below the top of the labyrinth, but hovering high enough to give himself manueverability. Terry's antics don't phase him in the slightest. He takes the opportunity afforded to swoop past and behind the huge beast, then around it; as he goes the twine he's spinning out of his magical hand thickens to become sturdy rope. Yes, he's aiming to tangle the great beast up in said rope, to trip it and stop its momentum.
Cael Becker	Cael doesn't hesitate as the great black hound leaps over them - the black wings at her back spread out, and flap once to give her some air, as she swings upwards with her blade, aiming for the creature's (hopefully) tender stomach. She then flies to the side - trying to mirror Jon's own movements, so the creature will have to decide which way to strike. As Jon tries to restrain it - she tries to injure it, moving in with her axe and taking swing after swing at its heavy black fur. "I fought a blood hippo, a lippodile, and a giant fuck off snake with a black hole in its hood," she remarks in a dismissive tone. "Michael's clearly not trying."
Michael Demiurgos	Gmork was a wolf and not a dog, but the massive Kong bone does the trick all the same. The beast's jaws bite down into it and find purchase but not surrender. The golden eyes widen as it finds it can't release itself from the grip and it stumbles back several steps and shakes its head in a desperate attempt to dislodge the oversided toy. So it can't avoid the tangling rope that catches in its legs or the massive axe swinigs harrowing its back. It growns and yelps in protest and pain as the axe bites deep into its ruff and attempts it makes to get away are met with more tangles of rope. "But I am the hunter!" it bellows it's mouth not seeming to move as it speaks. "Not the prey! I will not be turned into chattle!" It tries a shoulder block at Cael, only to have the rope tangle him more and send him sprawling to the ground, writhing and pawing in impotent rage before the Witchblade's feet.
Terry O'Neil	"Well," Vorpal says with a smirk as Gmork finds itself he has bitten off more than he can chew, "Suddenly I'm getting flashbacks to when Gar and I went steady-" he cuts himself off, crossing his arms instead and taking several steps back to let the rest of the team-mates do their thing, as he maintains the existence of the construct. He glances at Sara for a moment, eyebrows raised, "... you okay?"
Sara Pezzini	Sara could likely live another twenty-five years and she would /never/ see something like that again. Giant Kong chew in the giant wolves mouth... just, no, she needed to focus. "Good, so good," she replies to Terry. Managing to shake it off just as the wolf sprawls out on the ground in front of her, she finds herself staring at the second unexpected sight for the night. At least this time she was able to keep her head intact, and she was glad that at least someone else had some idea why this particular 'obstacle' was a giant wolf. "Alis is presently residing inside me Cael," she offers out of no where, now that her head is clearing. "Only way to ensure nothing bad happened, don't think she can step out in here." Now her attention is fully focused on the talking wolf, that part was still strange but no more strange than the hundreds of other talking non-humanoid beings out there. "You're forgetting one important fact," she states as she lifts the bastard sword and starts to bring it down in a powerful strike, attempting to stab this wolf in the head. "There's always a bigger hunter than you out there."
Jonathan Sims	Jon makes sure the beast is well and truly tangled up before darting back, still holding the magic ball of twine. "Gmork fails in the end. Even with a single grain of sand, Fantastica returns. Maybe Michael really does want us to win?" he muses thoughtfully. A glance over to Terry and Sara. "You'd better get used to weirdness," he says. "This is the Astral Plane. Literally anything we can think of can appear here. I mean, Cael, if you thought Duat was strange..."
Cael Becker	"Duat was fucking bizarre, Jon. No offense." Has there ever been a statement followed by 'no offense' - that wasn't offensive? Not that Cael seems aware of this distinction as she and Sara work together to dispatch the wolf, a look of determination on her features - without an ounce of sympathy. It's not really a living thing, is it? Besides - she has Issues to work out still. Once she stops, she takes a few steps back - no standing on the floor of the Labyrinth and regards the wolf. "Do you think I have anger issues?" Where there's a loaded question.
Michael Demiurgos	The wolf's demise is a grim and bloody affair. For a creature that doesn't entirely live it bleeds a great deal. The golden floor of the labyrinth is stained with a myriad of dark red splatters and pools. There is another rumbling sound as the maze shudders and rotates again, rearranging their path once more. When it's over they stand in the middle of a four way intersection with the ability to go any of the four ways available. The wolf's body disintegrates slowly into ashes leaving only the blood and the massive KONG toy to ever show it was there to begin with.
Terry O'Neil	"I hope he wasn't actually alive," Vorpal says dismissing the KONG toy, returning it to chaos. "If he was, I will be very sorry, since it was only being manipulated by Michael..." he frowns at the re-arranging. "Alright, your turn to choose a path, peeps. My sense of direction got us chased by the Neverending Story, so maybe one of you will choose and we will end somewhere nicer. Like, the Chocolate Factory."
Sara Pezzini	The sword remains in Sara's hand even as the wolf dies and the labyrinth once again changes. The blood was unnoticed, it came with using a bladed weapon. "I take no joy in killing," she states as she looks to Terry. "But I'll always do so to protect others." Looking to Cael now she says with a completely straight face, "Yes Cael, you have anger issues." then points to the left. "How about that way, or would you rather choose the next way Jon?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon starts winding up the excess twine, frowning at the pool of blood, then glancing over his shoulder for a moment. "As your former therapist I am bound by patient confidentality, and our relationship already treads the line of possible ethics violations." A pause. "That said? You have anger issues, love." He glances up at her for a moment, frown fading into a grin. Another glance over his shoulder, then faces the way Sara's indicating, to the left. "Well we could..." He stops. Frowns. "I mean, we could..." He finally turns toward the passage behind him. "Do you see that?" He gestures toward what to the others looks like empty ground... but to him, is a glowing trail of teal light. "That way. We go that way." He says in a tone of absolute certainty.
Cael Becker	Cael grins back at Jon and Sara - seemingly amused by their unified certainty. Though, honestly, it's not like she had any real doubts on that front herself. "Not sure how either of you put up with me." She turns to start in the direction that was indicated as she adds, "I doubt it was really alive," though something in her tone implies it doesn't really matter to her. "And I'm glad Alis is safe. You're right, it's probably better that way. Oh - what did the doctors say about your arm?" she asks. "Apparently I missed all that." As if this were a perfectly appropriate moment to discuss Sara's medical information.
Michael Demiurgos	The pathway that Jon leads them along, continues down the straight path before it comes to a t intersection. He insists that they go right even though on inspection it looks as thought it leads to a dead end. However, as they progress towards the 'dead end' it never gets closer and they continue before taking a sharp left to a portculis. Beyond the portculis is a seemingly circular clearing. As the party approaches the portculis a disembodied voice that is not Michael's speaks out to them: There is something I seek. While it is bound, it chooses kings and peasants. When it is freed, it foretells war or woe. While it bound, it propels men's lusts and furies. When it is freed, it tumbles, falls, and fades. While it is bound, life will often thrive. When it is freed, death will often follow." There is no other adornment at the portculis nor any sort of mechanism that shows how the grate over the archway should be opened. But it is clear whatever is beyond it, is the source of what they are looking for in this labyrinth.
Terry O'Neil	The Cheshire cat ponders the riddle, and hmms. "Are we talking to Uyulala, or are we back to Labyrinth? In any case... I /think/ I know the answer. But in case it /is/ Uyulala speaking, the oracle usually requires an answer in rhyme, so... here's my attempt." Choosing his rhymes, he takes a few moments before he speaks: "By birthright defined is the lot of the king and his quarrelsome kind will wage wars for a ring. And what boils in our veins makes it hard to resist when, from passion, our chains bind us to sundry trysts. From these things, I would wage that I'm right, or a dud: mark me now dunce or sage, I will answer: 'tis blood!"
Sara Pezzini	Sara had been open to any direction, so long as they stayed together, so when Jon said that way... she moved that way with the group. "The MRI showed I'm back to hundred percent," she offers to Cael with a slight chuckle. She had no issues discussing herself in the middle of an astral labyrinth. "As for putting up with you, your words not mine, it's a lot of patience." She grins over at Cael now in a mischevious way. "Totally all about patience, not at all the fact we love you." As the continue in the chosen direction, a few more steps. "Why a giant chew toy?" She finally asks Terry, because her brain won't let it go. "I get it, giant wolf, giant chew toy, but why... why was that the thing that popped into your head?" The answer to her question would have to wait as they approached the gate and an unknown voices speaks an interesting riddle that catches Sara's attention. Even as she listens to each line, she looks like she had no answer to offer but then her head jerks up and her eyes go to the gate as just the moment Terry makes his announcement. No pause, no hesitation, she draws her left hand across the blade in the right hand then walks over and lays the now bleeding hand on the gate. "What you seek, you get," she comments, hopping that Witchblade and Terry were both right other wise, fuck that hurt for nothing.
Jonathan Sims	"You're really pretty when you're fighting," Jon says to Cael, with only the /hint/ of a flush on his dark cheeks. "That's most of the reason I put up with you." He leans over to place a kiss on Cael's cheek, mostly unselfconsciously. Mostly. The riddle leaves him frowning, considering, doing that thing where he opens his mouth and holds up a finger, then closes it, frowns, then does so again. Then he shakes his head. In the midst of this, Terry steps forward with his rhyme and Sara steps forward to offer the gate blood. He narrows his eyes. "That fits," he murmurs quietly, and tenses himself to see whether it's accepted.
Cael Becker	"I'm glad to hear it," Cael answers Sara sincerely - flashing the other woman a smile. Given she'd thought Sara had been about to die after that attack from that asshole Barachiel? It really was a relief. She looks a little embarrassed, herself, as Jon kisses her on the cheek and compliments her 'beauty' in battle - but she does flash him a smile of appreciation. "I honestly wasn't trying to fish for compliments, you know..." She falls silent as the voice speaks the riddle, her own considering look on her features - before looking impressed by Terry's response. "Probably a better answer than what I've got. I was thinking... 'my anger issues,'" she replies in an amused voice. "Is your hand alright, Sara? I have a basic first aid kit on me..."
Michael Demiurgos	As Sara's blood is offered to the door the labyrinth shudders again and there is that spinning and changing motion about the place. But so close to the middle, it doesn't truly affect the party anymore than to give then access to the central chamber. Inside is a familiar sight. A large ash tree stands in the center of the clearing. It's identical to the tree that recently sprung up in Central Park. But what is just beyond it is -not- familiar. A shimmering framework of what looks to be a stairway leading into the pink, featureless sky. There is a peaceful air about the clearing and a sense of respite and safety.
Terry O'Neil	"Oh, this is nice," Vorpal says as they step into the peaceful clearing. "Like that clearing in the Quest for Glory games where everything is peace and you're totally safe because an enchantress' benevolent spell was placed there? Erana's Peace?" He glances around, "Anybody kno-- nevermind." There is a tree. And there are things cats just have to do with trees. Terry O'Neili saunters over to the large ash tree. He positions himself a few feet away from the tree and- Lifts his leg, and- Winds up his arm like a pitcher at a baseball game. A little glitterbomb flies towards the bark of the tree, to explode there harmlessly in a shower of multicolored glitter. "Mine!" he calls out, and turns around to face the team. Wait. What did you think he was going to do?
Sara Pezzini	Sara glances to Cael as she says, "Just need some gauze for now, should seal back up in a few hours." Then she looks back through the open gate. Was insanity the norm for heroes? Yes, she thought Terry was going to pee on the tree, so for a split second she considers looking away and then... glitterbomb. Yep, insanity was the norm alright. Walking through the gate into the clearing, it seemed peaceful, beautiful, just as the tree in the real world had seemed to her. It couldn't possibly /be/ peaceful, given the means of getting to it, but for now she'll accept the peace while keeping her eyes open. "You know what," she finally says. "Forget I asked about the chew toy. I'm putting you into the same category that my boyfriend is in, crazy, sexy and useful."
Terry O'Neil	Vorpal smirks as he rejoins the team, nodding at Sara's categorization of him. "Well... two out of three ain't bad." He will not say which two, however.
Jonathan Sims	Jon stares at the clearing for a long moment, recognizing the tree under which he reappeared from the Astral Plane a few weeks before. "So... he didn't 'kidnap' us at all. He just... put a labyrinth around the place." He walks forward, humming 'Stairway to Heaven' to himself as he goes, again pulled by that strange new instinct toward a portcullis on the other side of the clearing. While Terry 'marks' the ash tree grown by Lydia's spell, Jon kneels down next to a pile of rubble near the portcullis. He starts to dig in the pile, and pulls out two pieces of wood. The first is a panel, a little larger than one foot by three feet, colored in a strange swirling myriad of blues. The other is an ash plank that seems to fit the dimensions of the staircase. "I think we put this on the staircase," he says, holding up the ash plank. "I think... well. I think we're building a stairway to heaven." He lets that sit for a moment, then sighs. "So who wants to do the honors?"
Cael Becker	Cael smirks in amusement as Terry 'marks' the tree - and then approaches it, leaning in so she's pressing her hands and her forehead against the tree's bark. She watered this tree herself, as she'd visited it time and time again to be 'near' to Jon cry out her grief. It was strange seeing and recognizing the same tree - but in a different setting. Magic just made no sense. "Can Michael not get home to heaven otherwise?" she asks as she straightens, holding her hand out to take the board. Rather than climbing the stairs, she flies upwards to the last step of the staircase, and then after a moment studying the construction of the mystical stairway, attempts to fit the new board into place as best she can.
Michael Demiurgos	As the plank settles into place on the framework there is a burst of magic and the walls of the labyrinth vanish. They are in an open field not unlike Central Park. The pink of the sky fades to deep blue and fills with pinpoints of stars that number a hundred fold of what can be seen from the middle of the city like New York. The framework of the shimmering staircase changes. It still shimmers with semi-transluscence and the immaterial nature of it remains, but it's clear that it's a staircase now. Opalescent silver light spills from it in a small pool giving illumination to the clearing and the tree alike. But there is still much to be done before it can be used by anyone for anything.
Terry O'Neil	"The journey of a thousand steps begins with a single mile," the Cheshire cat says as the staircase changes. "But I am disappointed. I was expecting at /least/ a musical number where I could wear a ballgown and I didn't get it. I believe I may just write a sassy letter to the editor."
Sara Pezzini	Watching the magics and the way staircase changes, Sara follows the shimmering up as far as she can see before looking back to Terry. It was almost as if the cat was channeling some inner Wade, it was just so uncanny the random shit he said and how well it matched the random shit Wade said. "Dance number," she comments, blinking once. "Thank Gaea there wasn't one. I can't sink, I can't dance, and Witchblade would adore shredding a ballgown." Shifting her eyes over to Jon and Cael now she asks, "What's next?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon shakes his head. "This has nothing to do with Michael. This is Chas." He nods to the stairway. "Uriel told me about this, the day before I died. I didn't get a chance to tell anyone else, but he said this framework was there; I had figured on checking in on it once we got a chance. I... would presume that we need to find the other pieces of the stairway and place them, in order to get up there and rescue Chas." He sighs. "And hopefully, somewhere along the line, convince Michael to give up the Demiurgic Force. Because that will be /so/ easy. Getting Chas off that door means Michael's forced to go back and guard it, at the very least." He steps back to stare up at the stars, and the shimmering form of the staircase. "We're coming, mate," he says softly. He reaches out to the staircase for a moment, his hand going right through the framework.
Cael Becker	Cael presses her lips together for a moment into a thin line - her low opinion clearly telegraphed in the stiff, uncomfortable posture that she assumes. It only lasts for a few breaths, before she lets out a sigh, and starts to relax. Whatever her opinion of the man - he was one of Jon's oldest friends, and he hadn't //intended// for any of this to happen. Was it fair to take all of her trauma out on him? "Yeah, sure," she mutters quietly. She didn't get to punch Michael. Or Uriel. Or Barachiel. This was all rather unsatisfying. "Martin and Agnes haven't seen you in almost two weeks, Jon. Let's go home," she suggests.