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Message: <blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 2711687" data-attributes="member: 63">October 31, 2005HalloweenNoon“First,” Balthazaar says, “accept nothing offered by anyone over there.”“Why?” Robert asks.Terry answers, “Gifts on Gaia carry a special weight, a power. If you accept a gift, the giver has power over you, no matter how slight. A simple mage might just be able to charm you more easily. An actual fey could lure you off into the woods and keep you there for a few decades.”“Alright,” Robert says, matter-of-factly. “No gifts.” “I am the clown with the tear-away face,“Here in a flash and gone without a trace.“I am the ‘who’ when you call, ‘Who’s there?’“I am the wind blowing through your hair.“I am the shadow on the moon at night,Filling your dreams to the brim with fright.”- The Nightmare Before Christmas, “This is Halloween” They are gearing up, in Belladonna’s house, just outside the French Quarter. A super soaker filled with holy water, UV lamps, lunch boxes filled with emergency food and water, and a bevy of crosses are stacked on top of the table. Scarpedin is sulking that they ultimately decided against scaling the steeple of the St. Louis cathedral, and he is currently skimming a book on vampire lore, making occasional noises of revelation.John is smoking, brooding. Belladonna is dressed in easy-going blouse and jeans, surprisingly beautiful even while dressing down. Robert can’t help but notice that Terry keeps stealing glances at her.After a moment of thought, Robert asks, “Gifts: does that include food?”“Especially food,” Balthazaar says.Robert grumbles, remembering the turkey legs Wiji-wiji offered them back at the Renaissance Festival, and the gold Japanese coin he still has.“What?” Terry says.“Nothing,” Robert says. And when he says it, he’s convincing.“If you must take something,” Balthazaar explains, “first offer something in return. The problem is, if they accept your offer, you may feel a compulsion to follow through, so you might want to have some pocket change at ready hand.“Second,” Balthazaar continues, “do not stray out of the French Quarter. There at least you will find mostly humans. The swamps beyond are wild. Never be led astray by lights in the distance.“Third, there are no clear, sunny days in New Orleans on Gaia. Even at noon, there is the chance we could encounter a vampire, though they and other creatures of the night seldom go out without good reason.”“Bring ‘em on,” Scarpedin says.Balthazaar scowls at the interruption. “Also,” he says, “electronic devices won’t work unless they’ve been specially designed to keep magical energies from disrupting them. You may as well leave your cel phones here.”Everyone declines, except John, who has no phone. This is the 21st century, after all.“Anything else?” Robert asks.“Yes.” Balthazaar grows very grave. “The lives of as many as twenty Bureau agents here in New Orleans are on the line. Please, if you are not willing to take this responsibility seriously, or if you aren’t willing to take a risk for others, I would prefer if you’d stay behind rather than become another liability. If you’re only coming along for curiosity, you can wait until the situation is less dangerous. We have no way of knowing what we’ll find over there.”“We should be fine,” Nathan offers confidently. “I haven’t had a vision.”Nathan then immediately reels and slumps face down. Belladonna catches him before his head smacks into the table. He pops back up almost instantaneously. Robert eyes him with doubt. While he has fully accepted that all he’s seeing is real, he wants the others to keep thinking he’s having a hard time adapting.“You have ‘a vision?’” Robert asks.Nathan nods. “Nothing major. We should just go outside before we hop to Gaia. This house is raised, and Scarpedin would have broken his leg from the fall if we’d just gone from the living room.”“Would not,” Scarpedin says. “Hey, Robot, why are you coming along?”“People are trying to kill me,” Robert says. He laughs. “I’m not leaving myself alone until I know I’m safe.”Belladonna smiles and speaks up for the first time since she had earlier yelled at Scarpedin for wanting to vandalize her city. “I hate to say it, but Scarpedin is right, deary. You’ll be safe in my house, and we all know you’re not comfortable with this whole magic thing.”Terry shakes his head. “Robert, you can come along. I think it’s better if we all stay together and, I dunno . . . I trust you. Balthazaar, if you’re trying to say you think Robert is a liability. . . .”“No,” Balthazaar says. “He handled himself surprisingly well yesterday, both with the assassin and the tomb robbers, and he’s not afraid to kill if he has to.”“Actually,” Robert says, “I am. But, y’know, thanks for the creepy vote of confidence Terry. Alright, can we get going.”“Outside,” Nathan reminds them.This time, the trip to Gaia is controlled, safe. The backyard of Belladonna’s house is shrouded in mist for a moment, and when the mist fades, a lusher, thicker world surrounds them. The air presses in with thousands of enticing scents, and even the distant stench of dead fish somehow manages to make everything else seem more lavish. The sky is a thick gray overcast, an even this early in the day it sounds like a thousand parties are going on just a few hundred feet away in the French Quarter.The ground at their feet is wild and marshy. Looking behind them, they see just a few hundred feet away from the French Quarter there is nothing but an endless swamp of cypress trees, hanging moss, and invisible creatures stirring the surface of thick waters.Balthazaar leads the way, out of the soggy marsh and onto Fontaine Street. The architecture here is nearly identical to that on Terra, but the stones and stucco seem more tactile, and every direction is teeming with magic. A two-foot high cockroach appears from an alley and barks at them like a dog before scuttling away as Scarpedin looms after it. People roam the streets dressed in a strange mixture of the fashion of 1800s South and Harry Potter – robes layered over gentlemen’s suits and ladies’ corsets, staffs and wands alongside hip sabers and dueling pistols. A few normal-looking people are scattered here and there, including a boisterous trio of men smoking thick cigars and shouting insults at any fairy they see.And there are many magical creatures. Tiny sprites with alligator heads scurry across roofs, and wretched beings that look like Gollum offer bits of worthless trash to street vendors, begging for meals. As the group turns toward Decatur Street, they are offered beads by a woman whose skin is gold, green, and purple, and whose breasts sway as expressively as her hands as she tries to convince them to accept her gift. Several of the roaming humans are accompanied by ghosts, the spectral companions who provide their magic, though the ghosts seem taken from every era of the city’s history, from Confederate soldiers to French trappers to modern street performers. At one store window, a shopkeeper tries to drive off a group of faintly-visible ghosts trying to see their reflection. Balthazaar tells them that, here in New Orleans on Gaia, mirrors are never sold.Blues fills the air, seeming to intuitively fade out or swell at the dramatically appropriate moments. In the distance they can hear horns of great steamships plying the Mississippi, the cheers of blind men cheering nymph strippers on Bourbon street, the faint hints of pleased moans drifting down from second story windows.At every storefront, on every corner, even in the streets, eerie hints of a Halloween on the way lurk in shadows, as if the city itself is transforming for the holiday, with no need for anyone to put up decorations or carve a pumpkin. Everyone they see seems anxious, both afraid and exhilarated about the party sure to happen that evening.Three times people recognize Balthazaar and cross the street, looking for convenient doorways to slip into to avoid his gaze.As they near Jackson Square – called Fleur Square on Gaia – a thick cloud passes overhead just as a horse-drawn cart carrying golden lanterns breaks a wheel behind them. The whole group turns at the sound, and then they hear a voice from an alley, whispering to them. They look forward again, and Terry calls out, "Who's there?"A hooded figure glides out from the shadows of the alley, blocking their path.The entity is the size of a man, its long robes hovering a few inches off the ground, swaying in the limp wind, as if something was roiling beneath them. Its face is hidden in impossibly deep shadows under its hood. It holds a lantern in one hand, and extends its other hand, palm up and empty, offering.“I have a message.”Its voice is at once cracked and wet, like a man dying of thirst in a flood. And, hearing its offer, each of them knows that it possesses a great secret, and that all it wants in return is a part of their mind, a secret of their own.</blockquote>

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