OOC: SQUEEE!

Announcing Radio Riel Volksmusik!

Now to change a passel of parcel music streams.

Recovering

True to his word, Captain Veles stayed on duty to make sure I did follow doctor’s orders. Though I hope it was not onerous duty, as he has not yet read all of the books my brother brought with him. He settled in, “Heh. Hy foundt Luffkreft. Vill be goot for a laff.” He settled in as I rearranged my position on the settee. “Schoont hyu be lying down, Frau Lowey?”

“Ach, I am tired of lying down, and if I sleep any more, I will get a headache,” I settled, and said, “I am still resting, yes?”

“Ja, uf courze. Bot negzt hyu vill schtend op, ja?” He smiled at my chuckle and then asked, “Hyu knowz you eyez iz glowing blue, ja?” He settled into the armchair, seeming to be very much at home.


I nodded, "It is the effect of the Working, nothing startling." I sighed and stretched my legs, “Sometimes I wish I had the knowledge to manipulate the equations like Kitla does. Right now, all I can do is feed the shields I spun for everyone, and find a way to anchor them better when I am not so... thinly spread.”

He went back to reading his book, and I smiled to myself. At least he did not feel the need to wear the tinfoil dǒu lì any longer. I took that to be a sign I might have gotten the shields strong enough by now. The effects should be that the thing out there would no longer manipulate their dreams, and at the same time might make them more aware of their surroundings. Might... such a fragile and powerful word, depending on the whims of fate.

The captain’s presence in the room was a solid anchor, as I reached, checking the shields in the network. Working from Captain Veles as the closest, through the family, staff and students in town, and whatever scamps I knew well enough to help, and finally stretching farther to reach for Griggs. He is distant enough that it is difficult for me to read him, so I think he is in no danger from what is stalking the town. As I let my attention return to monitoring those in my care, I wondered where he travelled... he has been so far away for so long....

I sighed as I came out of the light trance, and the captain made an inquiring noise. I shook my head and said, “Too tired for dancing, how sad is that?”

He chuckled, and I shifted position, drifting off to sleep again.

Balancing Things Out

I have never held this many shields up at once, before. Amarantis explained the linking technique Uncle Ibiz taught her, but it will have to wait until we are no longer under an emergency. Keeping tabs on the family, and the staff was stretching my reserves... but I could not leave the children unshielded. They have nightmares enough with the bodies being found so near the places many know as "safe". So I stay in bed, save for the few hours I can manage to maintain a social facade.

The students from home have started reviewing the rules for unsecured territory with the others. Rengerin has been a fairly good example, save for the fact she has a tendency to believe traveling by rocket-boots will keep her safe. It has, so far, but Captain Veles is trying to impress the importance of traveling in pairs, even in the air.

Wolfgang's studies have not suffered as much as before, but now he is trying to sort out scents. Hâjdău let slip that he has been tagging along with the Jaeger patrols the Baron's Quester has detailed for tracking from the sites. In many cases, the trail has been muddied by the crowds these bodies gather, but there have been some scant leads, and they all point to the ocean.

My assistant has had some surprising growth in the past month, going from someone who was afraid of Amarantis and my brother, to actually seeking her out for help, and suggesting questions to ask Augustus to research for the Quester. Hâjdău is not a Spark, but she comes from good family, and is developing into a strong minion.

Still, it is fretful to be so drained and weak. I am getting better, and the cold has cleared up, but I am afraid I will not be strong enough in time to take on whatever this monster stalking us might be.

Sick Leave

Perhaps I did overextend myself. However, if the shields were not made, we might have lost people to inattention and lack of sleep. I will not be tucked into bed except to sleep. I can rest easily enough in the parlor, and as a concession to my daughter’s fussing, I will put my feet up.

Thankfully, Hâjdău came by with the afternoon reports, and stayed for tea. Of course my tea was dosed, they wanted me to rest. No nightmares, just the general nonsense dreaming I usually have... well, until I realized it was a good time for analysis. It did give me an opportunity to assimilate the information from the reports, and during my nap, I was able to follow the formula Kitla had for the increase in the dream incidents. What was causing the problems was not coming here, it had already arrived, and the bodies are the signature. We will no longer be dealing with just intermediaries.

The nap was refreshing, and I decided to continue with my regular schedule. Captain Veles caught me as I was preparing to slip off to the pub to oversee the poetry slam. “See? I even wore a sweater so I would not catch cold and I am wearing the sensible boots.” He growled and said it would be easier to keep an eye on me there. The Baron was surprised I was there, and frowned but did not order me home immediately. I did not quite catch the quick conversation between him and the Captain.

My fatigue began to show during the end of the slam, and I was grateful to have the Captain with me to watch my back as we returned to the house. This time I did not argue being bundled off to bed, with the Captain watching to make sure I did not sleepwalk. I watched him read, something he had picked up off the shelf in the study, by the light of a small shaded lamp. Still wearing his tinfoil dǒu lì, he was being cautious. I smiled in my sleep, because he did not need it - he is one of the people I am shielding.

Notice to all staff and students:

While investigations into the graffiti are ongoing, we do *NOT* have a clear perpetrator. Due assistance to the sheriff and his deputies will be approved in all investigations.

Torches may *NOT* be requisitioned at this time. When said perpetrator is found, they will be dealt with by the local legal system.

Please remember that the mob permit application process is still in place, and the sheriff must be present for the training sessions. Final committee presentation must include all city management staff, with full environmental assays and community petitions in place.

Just because we are not currently in Europa does not mean we are permitted to bypass regulations.

Fr. A. Lowey
Cc: KW, TLE,TH, FO

Steelhead’s Lost Sleep

I have not slept well over the past few days, and my restless nights have sapped my energy. I put it down to my fretting over the increasing length of time since Sergeant Griggs last set foot in Steelhead, but other incidents have been brought to my attention.

The students have been increasingly peevish, which is odd. The ones in classes now are the ones who chose to be here, opting out of the long summer holiday many of the day students take, in favor of pursuing their particular special interests. However, finding Alexandria and Wolfgang quarrelling over a specific patch of ground (she wanted it for her test trenches, and he is still assaying the chemical composition of Steelhead’s topsoil) was exceedingly odd, since they have worked together harmoniously in the past. Anya has been twitchy, and rarely leaving the company of an adult. Rengerin snapping at one of the other instructors, with it escalating into a brief shouting match before they recalled themselves, brought it all to a head.

Meeting with the other teachers over tea clarified some observations. None of us has been sleeping well, and those who are not connected in some way to metaphysical studies are even worse off. Sister Mary Evangeline reported she had cancelled group target practice for the students, with their mood being so chancy. The sisters have reported some of the same symptoms as the teachers, but none as severe as Professor Lyles. If he has slept at all in the past week, I would be greatly surprised.

Dr Beck’s report at the town meeting did not put a specific name to the issue, but at least we know it is not an attack just on the Consulate or the school. The whole town has been affected, from Harborside to the slums in the Shanghai district.

The next day, half the office staff was out, including my assistant. Since she had come into the office last winter with a severe cold, this was a telling point. Something had to be done - actually, several hundred things, but I was just one person. Luckily, Amarantis was able to take on some of the tasks. I gave her the list of the staff that were out, and the notes Dr Beck had been able to assemble. That left me free to clear the rest of the office work and determine the next step.

My next clue was noting that, though he was melancholy over Miss Burton’s long absence, Messenger was not displaying the same symptoms as the rest of the staff. Some quick questions of the ones that were least affected brought up some similarities. They were either adherents of some esoteric practice, or they (like Messenger) were closely associated with a practitioner. The sisters were sleeping in blessed territory, and only lightly affected. A quick report by Amarantis brought the news that the missing staff were recovering slowly, as they were being shielded by Madame Kitla or herself, but that Miss Burton had shielded Messenger’s quarters against any and all inimical influences.

Surveying the affected population showed that mages and the sisters were the least impacted, empaths who were sleeping under shields were only partially influenced, but that those that were completely unshielded were suffering greatly, to the point that reality was difficult for them to track. Without the Foundation to triangulate the effects of different methods, I had to rely on Kitla’s formulae for structure. That did make it easier to explain our findings in my report to the Baron, as her work is rooted in mathematical forms.

The next escalation appeared at sundown. Messages crudely painted on the walls of the city in tar that “He is coming” and “Offer your heads” match the nightmares reported. The fact these were not some arcane language leads me to believe the person is likely not a practitioner of esoteric arts themselves. The language is Polish, translated by my new roaming assistant, Mrs DeCuir-Irato. We have inquired throughout the staff to find who in town might have Polish as their primary language, cautioning that the person who has done this could be dangerous. Orders are to watch and report only.

The staff members have also been advised that alert status is possible soon. Once we have the reports from the investigators, both ours and the sheriff’s, the next step may be clearer.

So many minor chords.

In this journal I an discordant, but the minor chords also show up in the Home Desk.

I think Amarantis might sound more like her fathers than me.

Oddly, my assistant's journal sounds... sneaky. Hrm.

Dreaming

The contact was initiated in my sleep. One moment I am enjoying lazing in the spring garden in company, and then a visual blurring and a jerking sensation - suddenly I was in the lecture room for the students. At least whoever was needing me let me have my proper clothing instead of what I had almost worn in the original dream.

A child who was not a child sat in the center aisle, sulking. Behind him, standing quietly, arms crossed...there was no mistaking his identity. This was bad. If the Elder had come back, we were all in a great deal of trouble, again. The children in the hall were not anyone in the school currently, thank the Builder. This was for the Elder's benefit, not a portent for any of my charges.

Whatever had brought me here placed me the lecture outline in my mind, and I cringed inwardly. Most of the surmises the Baron and the children had formulated on the reanimation formula were correct. My dread was not reflected by the tone I used in the lecture introduction. Even as I wished otherwise, whatever was controlling my dream-self had me pull the sheet from his form.

The thread of a connection I had to Darien roiled with fear, anger and desperation. I tried to reach back through the link to reassure him, but the thread did not only connect to the figure in the aether suit, it webbed out though the classroom and beyond to multiple anchors. So, I had been pulled to his subconscious. Interesting, I wonder if he intended to bring me here at all. My anchor was set, and I dove into the lecture material.

"Common issues with the reanimation serum involve dosage difficulties with repeated use, and theoretical damage to the cerebellum," I found myself saying. Theoretical, my foot. Darien threw himself into dangerous ventures without a second thought on a regular basis, all Sparks have that trait. But the tendency to think himself indestructible became worse with each dosage. The anger flares were worse the more he used the formula as well.

The lecture room was not fixed, fluctuating between the one at the school in Steelhead, and several I did not know personally, though I caught a glimpse here and there that resembled the drawings of the School of Medicine at Miskatonic. The children fluctuated as well, though the one became recognizable quickly... Darien, as he had appeared when he was younger. Other slightly familiar faces flickered through the class, some almost recognizable, but most were not.

I outwardly babbled on about the combined effects of radiation poisoning, gamma rays, explosive decompression and the toxins in the bloodfruit, while sifting through the connections, trying to find a link to Ash or Gematria. They still lived, but were too far distant to help at the moment. The lecture wound down to the concluding remarks, and I regained enough control of my dream-self to place my hand on the aether suit, stopping the slow tumble. My dream-self then faced the Elder and asked, "..permeating the subject's mitochondria down to the RNA level and re-engineering for its own replication functions. Questions?"

A young girl, (a name teased on the edge of memory, Clara?) in the front raised her hand to be recognized. At my nod, she stood and asked, "So Doctor Mason is now a walking reanimation serum factory?"

I confirmed her thesis, and checked my links to the others again - closer, but not nearly close enough. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the Elder goading Darien to participate. After I nodded to him, he asked without standing, "So if he can't die from an overdose of the serum that won't let him die, what will happen after complete insanity?"

I pulled on one of the links to gain the information, "Well, continual overproduction of serum compounded by radiation levels will result in an exponentially expanding level of mutation..." I was interrupted by shattering glass, and my voice started to spiral up, "...will lead to the final Pandoran phase."

As the children screamed and bolted for the exits, I grasped for my astral anchor, making sure I could thread out of his mind without damaging him. He was damaged enough without me contributing. Then I felt something brush against my ankle.

The Elder shouted, "CLASS DISMISSED!" disrupting the image and the pull that held me there. I had bolted out of bed before I realized I was awake. Standing in my shielded rooms, searched for the link to Darien, and found it thinning. I tried to reach Ash....

Shirtless Against Breast Cancer - The Book!

This year's Shirtless Against Breast Cancer campaign includes four calendars, yet there were many more submissions than could fit in these offerings, and some that might be a bit too much for a calendar displayed on a wall... so the collection includes a lovely book!

Two different cover options, but the same interiors, available from the vendors at all Consulate offices, in addition to Piermont Landing, Ruby's Pub, Ruby's II, Lotus of the Sea Gallery and CocoaJava Cafe in New Babbage, Steampunk Adventures in Winterfell, Tricia Aferdita Gallery and Exposure Gallery in Tabula rasa, Designing Worlds studio in Northpoint, Oliveto, the Primgraph offices in Caledon Glengarry, Velvel's Emporium in Steelhead Shanghai, Regent Theatre, Pneumatic Revolution Lounge, StratoGear Station and Steelbucks in Steeltopia, Ironhound Train Station in Steeltopia Anchorage and the Victoriana Harbour train station.

The book is L$750, with all proceeds going to breastcancer.org, and will be available until August.