Ashes Between the Pages

[Robert Cross]

Continued from Here

As is his custom, Cross parks his Town Car a few blocks from the entrance to the Necropolis. He’s aware that this will make things harder on Alice, and it makes him feel like shit, but security is security. And the Burned Man is Constable of the Deep Kingdom. Nothing to be done.

“Wait here, I’ll come around,” he says, the first words he’s spoken since they got into the car, content to let Miles’s Kind of Blue do the talking for him.

Alice hears his door close and then, moments later, her’s opens. A reassuring hand is placed on her elbow as he bends to release her seatbelt. His voice is close and soft when he speaks: “Okay, we have a couple of blocks to walk, but I’ve got you.”

Cross helps her out of the car and guides her along. Eventually, they turn to walk toward the above ground haven that contains the Necropolis entrance. Alice hears a key turn in the lock and then a door open. “We’re going inside the house,” Cross lets her know as they enter.

Through the house, the padlocked door, down the metal stairs, Cross guides and helps her every step of the way, keeping her informed of what they are doing, what will happen next. He tries to be her eyes, with hand and voice.

Finally, they reach the Caldarium, its calming influence immediately apparent to Cross, thankfully. Maybe that’s the reason he pauses, or maybe it’s to allow Alice to gain her bearings.

“The Caldarium,” is all he says to inform her of their location, sure she somehow already knows. “Keeper Hart, you’re home.”

Hey Fam! Feel free to jump in! Greenberg Matrixchild Kenneth Gilroy Parable Garrick Marlon Kelreth

[Alice Hart]

It was nice, the quiet, save the music flowing from the speakers. Leaning her forehead against the window, her eyes closed it was almost if nothing had happened.

Robert's gruff voice brakes that illusion.

By habit she opens her eyes, deflating when there was still nothing but the endless void. A smile is given to Robert, because in that moment, she thinks, she'd simply sit in the car and wallow. She could be proactive tomorrow night, but the hand on her elbow, and how close the Burned Man was, brought her out of her own misery to realize that this isn't the first time her life had been flipped upside down, and it probably wont be the last. Such was the haunt's lot in unlife.

She nods, "I know you do." she murmurs when his soft voice sounds.

Her hand on his arm, The Burned Man lead the Doll to the above-ground haven, his gruff voice soft as he warns her of dips in the sidewalk when they'd transition from concrete to asphalt. Her head ducked near his shoulder, her ghostly mane covering her closed eyes. A siren rang a few blocks over, a dog yapped at the sleek form of an alley cat who hiss menacingly back.

Her steps were sure, her stride the same tempo she'd always had. Wonder blossomed within as she struggled not to gape and stare with her-eyes-that-weren't around her like an idiot. Because her steps her sure. Her stride even. When Robert's voice spoke, the wooden steps of the house in front of her, she she kicked the step to feel it...and to hear it. This time his gentle guiding is truly needed, because even as the Blood takes away it gives back. it's like everything has this effed up balance.

The revelation strikes Alice numb.

The firm hand, and soft voice guide Alice down the familiar metal grated stairs, and...her worries start floating away, Robert announces where they are, Alice simply nods. There wasn't any other place in Sacramento that could have started to uncoil the knot within her just by standing near it.

With Robert's last whispered words, the Doll turns to him and beams.

[Robert Cross]

Alice's assured movements haven't escaped Robert's notice as they make their way into the Underground. Of course, she has her moment of doubt, of faltering before some obstacle. But there's a confidence, and an ease, to her stride that fills the Burned Man with wonder. What, exactly, is happening here? There'd be plenty of time, however, to figure that out. For now, it's important to keep the Doll calm and see what they could find in the archives of the Bleak Annals.

Cross can't help but return her smile, even if she can't see it. A squeeze of her hand, where it rests upon his arm, with his own let's her know that he shares her happiness, and her relief, to be back in this place. At that moment, Cross spots the candle meant to be kept burning at all times in the chamber, notices that it has burned low. Habit, routine, breeds peace. This he knows. And so, he leads her over, easily ignoring the protestations of his beast. This is too important to let his monster get in their way.

"The candle is low," he murmurs, reaching with his spare hand to secure a replacement. He places this new candle in the Doll's own hand, letting her wrap her fingers about it, and then guides her in the process of lighting the fresh flame to replace the old. The new candle fixed in the pooled wax of the previous, he blows out the old flame and sets the nearly-depleted candle aside. All of this is done in reverent silence, slowly and deliberately, letting Alice take the lead as she will, giving her the space and time to lose herself in the familiar actions.

After a few more moments of peace in the Caldarium, the Burned Man takes Alice's hand and gently urges her deeper into the Necropolis. "Come on, let's get to work," it's not a command, only a reminder that there's still hope, still something they can do to take her new, and confusing, fate in hand.

[Alice Hart]

A larger hand squeezes hers as if to let her know that her smile is returned, that in this moment, and in this place everything is okay, and if it wasn't. It will be.

Instead of drawing her farther into the catacombs, and towards where the Bleak Annals dwelt he draws her farther into the Caldarium.

At his words, a new panic blooms piercing through the still growing serenity of the bathhouse. How is she going to keep onto of her duties, Gilroy will strip her of her tittle and - panicked thoughts, like mice chewing through her brain halt when the new candle is placed in her hands. She holds it tightly as Robert's larger hands guide her through the once-familiar routine. Trapped in darkness the actions are slow and clumsy, but Robert doesn't speak, simply aiding her when she doubts and falters. Not chiding when the Doll's actions are slow and deliberate, attempting to memories the way everything feels so she might continue this duty night after night.

The flame is lit, The Wraith notices as much, but it's presence is familiar, so the Wraith's ice doesn't surround her, instead it's satisfied by watching what Alice could not see.

They sit around that candle until Robert's large hands are once more urging her upward, his words remind her that this visit isn't for basking in the peace, but that they still had work to do.

They walk, deeper and deeper. The silence lingers between them as they continue their trek, Alice leans into the Burned Man as her feet drag against the dirt, tapping on the stone, She knows where she is, and the way forward. The peace that the Caldarium offered is reinforced.

Her wide-fake smile makes an appearance, until her nose meets the scent of what is inescapably books and is reminded that her eyes-that-weren't couldn't read ink scared words betwixt leather-bound pages.

[Robert Cross]

Cross guides Alice into the Annals, "Watch your head," he says, ducking himself to avoid the low ceiling. The chamber is cramped, but somehow comforting. The sight of the impressive library amassed by Greenberg fills the Burned Man with hope. There has to be something here...

Patiently, he guides the Doll to the table in the center of the room, helps her sit. "Okay, wait here, I'm going to start pulling some books and bring them back."

She can hear him rummaging around for a few minutes. A volume is dropped, and retrieved, with a soft curse. Finally, Cross returns. There's a soft thud as he sets down the materials he's gathered and sits beside her at the table. "Okay, I've found some stuff on our Family's history here in Sacramento. It's not much, but it's a start at least."

Research Rolls

  2 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2016-08-23 13:23:03		[01] Robert Cross rolls 5 to Intel2 + Academics1 + Library Access2 (10 Again)		4, 7, 3, 9, 10, 7		2 successes

  2 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2016-08-23 13:23:03		[02] Robert Cross rolls 5 to Intel2 + Academics1 + Library Access2 (10 Again)		7, 5, 6, 10, 1, 9		2 successes

  3 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2016-08-23 13:23:03		[03] Robert Cross rolls 5 to Intel2 + Academics1 + Library Access2 (10 Again)		10, 9, 10, 2, 5, 3, 3		3 successes

  1 success

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2016-08-23 13:23:03		[04] Robert Cross rolls 5 to Intel2 + Academics1 + Library Access2 (10 Again)		10, 6, 6, 5, 3, 7		1 success

For the next two hours, Cross reads to Alice without break, his voice steady, unwavering. The dead do not need water, do not get tired. Every now and again, he stops to ask her some question, to offer encouragement, to see how she's holding up.

He reads to her about the history of the previous Necropolis in the city. He reads to her about former Haunts, famous and infamous, from Sacramento's past. He reads to her about the vagaries of the Curse as those previous denizens of the domain experienced it. He reads and reads and reads....

[Alice Hart]

The scent of the library fills Alice with both, hope and despair. Robert leads her to one of the chairs, and Alice sits with the stillness of the dead, save when she rolls the hem of her sweater between her fingers with a nervous energy. Hearing the Burned Man's efforts in searching the annals, spikes both sides of the confusing mix of emotions flowing through the Doll.

When he returns, the soft thud of the books hitting the table was loud in her ears. But Alice couldn't fathom if it were because she could hear more clearly, or if she was simply that hyper aware of the source of the sound that could carry them towards the answers she needs, or....well. Alice would rather not think of what that 'or' could lead.

Listening to Robert speak without rest is a new experience for the Doll. His gruff, gravely voice fills the room as he read for her, Alice stops her nervous fidgeting, leaning against the table, she props her head up with her hands and just listens.

"Baddacelli..." she whispers, some two hours later. "But-me? I didn't know Jack had any kind of legacy, or blood line or whatever!" She says earnestly, then she falls silent for a moment, "...but I didn't know Jack long. Before. You know." his final death. "I'm not a fluke. Or an accident?" She asks seeking the reassurance that she is not.

She pulls away from the table, her arms move to encircle her knees as she pulls them up onto the chair. She folds into herself as she tries to make everything make sense with her mind. "Blind haunts that can use....sounds....to hunt and...navigate..." She murmurs into her legs. This is how she'd known how she'd been able to move without stumbling all around.

After an eternity of silence, Alice pulls her head up, her legs falling back to the floor, "Thank you Robert. Truly." she says reaching for his arm.

[Robert Cross]

Cross is not sure what shocks him more, that he's managed to find something in his research, or that he's managed to find the right thing. Either way, he's happy they have a lead, something to hold onto, something that helps Alice make sense of her situation. He sits back after reading the passage on Dirge and her bloodline aloud, thinking things over.

"Baddacelli." he echoes, as if testing the word. The Blood truly is a mysterious force, it's effects unpredictable, miraculous, and terrifying. It's not hard to see their Curse as divinely wrought. "It's possible that he didn't even know to tell you," he replies. "But either way, it doesn't appear that this is accidental at all..." Cross isn't sure if this is a good or bad thing. It provides them with a reason, with understanding. But it also seals her fate. There is no recovering from what's happened to her. Cross keeps these worries to himself.

Lost in thought, he doesn't quite hear as she puzzles out her new abilities. But, when she touches his arm he looks up, his eyes searching her face, which is still possessed of that strange beauty he so admires despite the absence of her gem-stone eyes. "Alice, I..."

I'm sorry?
I'm here for you?
I'd do anything for you?

"There's no need to thank me, Alice. You know that." It's just too much right now, to inject his own feelings into this. She's already overwhelmed as it is. Or maybe he's just afraid, afraid to admit...

"Listen, I think it's best if you stay down here, at least for a while. I can run back to your place and pick up whatever's necessary. You can use my Sepulcher to sleep, if you like..." Realizing that he seems to be suggesting they shack up, he adds hurriedly, "I can find another place to spend the day, in the catacombs or something..."

[Alice Hart]

"Probably." Alice nods, "We were just on the baby steps..before..." Final Death and no more lessons for the newly dead doll, "But I didn't known, I couldn't tell if he was blind or not. Do you think that I could be like that...eventually?" she asks, the fear born knowledge that if the Blood couldn't heal her, then nothing could cemented, and already the doll was trying to push past this night the way she'd pushed past her jerking-string-pulled limbs, and her ceramic seeming flesh.

"I do." she says in a small voice, after the near silence of his hesitant answer, "But I'm thanking you anyway." The Blind Doll informs the Burned Man, rubbing the fabric of his jacket with her thumb.

"Okay." she blurts before Robert had finished. Wanting to stay close to the person in the Domain she trusted most, especially in the moments of confusion and terror that were sure to come in the nights to follow. "No-it's your Sepulcher...I don't want to displace you. You've done so much for me already that-I'll sleep in the Caldarium if I have to!" words flew out of the doll's mouth, her fingers clutching Robert's jacket tighter.

[Robert Cross]

"It sounds like this Dirge could find her way around well enough," he responds, not wanting to make any promises, but also unwilling to dash her hopes. "And you already seem to handle yourself better than..." Better than what? Your typical blind person? "...expected." It's the truth. On their way down, Alice seemed to orient herself to new spaces and make her way around with an ease that was eerie.

A scarred hand is placed on her own, meant to calm her anxious pulling on his jacket. "Alice, I don't use it during the daytime anyhow, except to rest. And I can do that most anyplace down here. Just sleep there, that's all I'm saying. You'll have your privacy, and I can use it for official business at night." She can't see how serious he is, but she can hear it. "I want you to." The idea of finding some bolt hole in the catacombs to spend the day doesn't bother him. But knowing that she would be out there, blind and alone, is too much for him.