Penny #33
Title: “The Aftermath, Interrupted”
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably PG
Prompt: -”Retrenchment”
Warnings:
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
“We have, it would appear, a problem.”
Concarnadine the magician looked round his dinner table. It was late on the Saturday evening: he and his friends and guests had eaten, and now it was time to take stock.
Penny Mortenson swallowed: this, presumably, was to do with her inability either to evade or to overcome the goth-dressed girl-witches who had started to track and follow her around London.
“Circe Botulbruss,” Concarnadine went on: “appears to believe that we are, in some way, vulnerable to her machinations. Especially she seems to think that Penny here is the, as it were, way in.”
“Try this,” Jinx said, and passed, via Will Brandon, a small metal box, embellished with bronze and copper chasings, to Penny.
“That ought to mess up whatever they have been using to follow you. Short,” she added, “of eyeball-technology.”
Borin the dwarf (Jinx was herself a dwarf, but complicated events had placed her in the body of a slim and attractive human-type girl) nodded.
“ ’ve looked, ’s better than mine.”
“I had more to work with and less to do, cousin,” Jinx replied.
“Th- thank you,” Penny stuttered. Jinx smiled.
“No need - I enjoy the challenge.”
“So, we need to calculate a response,” Concarnadne added, and looked round.
“Jay and I,” Will Brandon said, indicating Jinx, “probably aren’t the people you want then - seeing as how we don’t live here any more.”
“We’d still value your input,” Concarnandine replied.
“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said, “whether anything we can do will be … well, effective.” She paused and looked round, then continued: “I mean, I accept that we could probably force them to stop, or magic all memory of Penny out of their minds, but that would be immoral, and make us no better than them.”
Heads nodded, and Penny sank further into her seat: this definitely looked as though she was more trouble to them than worth.
A refined cough drew her attention.
Dinner had been enlivened by the return of both Overpass and Wantage (Borin managing to get in a couple of mock-complaints that nether had brought him anything by way of rat, stoat or weasel before Concarnadine found out and reproved him).
And now it appeared that Overpass wanted to intervene.
“Y’ve rattled th’m,” he sad. “Well, least, th’ girls. Perhaps not wit’ today - but I t’ink y’had a diff’rent bunch t’day. I ‘ver th’t Mistress Marien is still dead-set on her scheme, but how many girls she has t’send … “
“There’s thirteen in the Brentford coven,” Wantage interjected: “Twelve full-time ‘n a spare. ’N probably as many in L’le Venice.”
“What about Canary Wharf ?”
“She’s tryin’” both men said, then stopped, then drew breath simultaneously, and then, at a barely-suppressed whimper from Penny, Overpass gave way to Wantage.
“She wants to find some, but the kids down there don’ have time for her rituals. I think she only has three, and two women at the studio.”
“At the studio ?”
“A secretary ‘nd a graphic assistant. She hooked them on cosmetic magic ‘n she’s reelin’ th’m in.”
“We need to stop that !” Elizabeth said, emphatically.
Concarnadine nodded: “And not just because if something else happens there, then Inspector Barratt is going to have questions to answer, which will mean questions to ask.”
“So stop them,” Borin opined.
“Easier said ‘n done,” Overpass replied: “She got tenure there, or shareholdin’, or somet’ing.”
“He means,” Wantage interpreted, “that s’ far ‘s we c’n tell, all’f Imago has t’die before she gets th’boot.”
“A literal dead-man switch,” Elizabeth commented: “Wonderful.”
Penny felt her stomach spasm again, and looked, desperately, to Concarnadine for some sort of reassurance.
He met her eye and nodded, crisply.
“Will, Jinx - thank you for all your help. Overpass, do you need any help getting home ?”
“Nah, m’n - j’st put me on th’street and ‘ll drift m’way hoame.”
Another curt nod. Will Brandon pulled his Key from his pocket, twisted it, and he and Jinx walked into nothing. Overpass got up, stretched, and Borin went to let him out. Wantage looked round at them, and then pulled another bread-bun from the basket on the table, and started on it.
“Have several,” Concarnadine said, and tossed two more rolls to the man, who tucked them into his pockets.
Then, like a hawk’s, Concarnadine’s eyes turned to Penny.
“How terrified are you ?” Then a sudden smile: “You’re entitled to be - this is many times deeper and nastier than anything you’re used to.”
Penny swallowed.
“I - I’d rather that none of this had happened. I mean, you’re wonderful people, but if I could go back in time and simply not go to the studio in the first place … “
“You would - I know. Okay … now - “
The telephone rang, in the hall. Concarnadine glanced at Elizabeth, but then they heard Borin’s distant voice, presumably dealing with whatever it was.
“Wantage - we need to - “
“Wantage needs t’go,” Borin said, flatly.
Heads turned, and the dwarf explained.
“That was Barratt - he’s on ‘is way over. Needs our ‘elp, ‘e says.”
“I’ll be on my way,“ Wantage said hastily: “If yer needs me, yer knows where I am.”
He scooped two more rolls from the basket, and a packets of sweet biscuits from the sideboard, and left the room, Borin marching ahead to open the front door again.
“I wonder what the Thane wants,” Elizabeth mused. Then she turned to Penny: “I’m sorry: it looks like our discussion of your problems will have to be adjourned. It’s not that Barratt is more important, just that he is useful, and so we try to stay on his good side.”
“We’ve got maybe twenty minutes,” Borin said. “And ‘e’s bringing a sergeant with ‘im. Said ‘e’d be obliged if we didn’t freak the lad out too badly.”
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably PG
Prompt: -”Retrenchment”
Warnings:
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
“We have, it would appear, a problem.”
Concarnadine the magician looked round his dinner table. It was late on the Saturday evening: he and his friends and guests had eaten, and now it was time to take stock.
Penny Mortenson swallowed: this, presumably, was to do with her inability either to evade or to overcome the goth-dressed girl-witches who had started to track and follow her around London.
“Circe Botulbruss,” Concarnadine went on: “appears to believe that we are, in some way, vulnerable to her machinations. Especially she seems to think that Penny here is the, as it were, way in.”
“Try this,” Jinx said, and passed, via Will Brandon, a small metal box, embellished with bronze and copper chasings, to Penny.
“That ought to mess up whatever they have been using to follow you. Short,” she added, “of eyeball-technology.”
Borin the dwarf (Jinx was herself a dwarf, but complicated events had placed her in the body of a slim and attractive human-type girl) nodded.
“ ’ve looked, ’s better than mine.”
“I had more to work with and less to do, cousin,” Jinx replied.
“Th- thank you,” Penny stuttered. Jinx smiled.
“No need - I enjoy the challenge.”
“So, we need to calculate a response,” Concarnadne added, and looked round.
“Jay and I,” Will Brandon said, indicating Jinx, “probably aren’t the people you want then - seeing as how we don’t live here any more.”
“We’d still value your input,” Concarnandine replied.
“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said, “whether anything we can do will be … well, effective.” She paused and looked round, then continued: “I mean, I accept that we could probably force them to stop, or magic all memory of Penny out of their minds, but that would be immoral, and make us no better than them.”
Heads nodded, and Penny sank further into her seat: this definitely looked as though she was more trouble to them than worth.
A refined cough drew her attention.
Dinner had been enlivened by the return of both Overpass and Wantage (Borin managing to get in a couple of mock-complaints that nether had brought him anything by way of rat, stoat or weasel before Concarnadine found out and reproved him).
And now it appeared that Overpass wanted to intervene.
“Y’ve rattled th’m,” he sad. “Well, least, th’ girls. Perhaps not wit’ today - but I t’ink y’had a diff’rent bunch t’day. I ‘ver th’t Mistress Marien is still dead-set on her scheme, but how many girls she has t’send … “
“There’s thirteen in the Brentford coven,” Wantage interjected: “Twelve full-time ‘n a spare. ’N probably as many in L’le Venice.”
“What about Canary Wharf ?”
“She’s tryin’” both men said, then stopped, then drew breath simultaneously, and then, at a barely-suppressed whimper from Penny, Overpass gave way to Wantage.
“She wants to find some, but the kids down there don’ have time for her rituals. I think she only has three, and two women at the studio.”
“At the studio ?”
“A secretary ‘nd a graphic assistant. She hooked them on cosmetic magic ‘n she’s reelin’ th’m in.”
“We need to stop that !” Elizabeth said, emphatically.
Concarnadine nodded: “And not just because if something else happens there, then Inspector Barratt is going to have questions to answer, which will mean questions to ask.”
“So stop them,” Borin opined.
“Easier said ‘n done,” Overpass replied: “She got tenure there, or shareholdin’, or somet’ing.”
“He means,” Wantage interpreted, “that s’ far ‘s we c’n tell, all’f Imago has t’die before she gets th’boot.”
“A literal dead-man switch,” Elizabeth commented: “Wonderful.”
Penny felt her stomach spasm again, and looked, desperately, to Concarnadine for some sort of reassurance.
He met her eye and nodded, crisply.
“Will, Jinx - thank you for all your help. Overpass, do you need any help getting home ?”
“Nah, m’n - j’st put me on th’street and ‘ll drift m’way hoame.”
Another curt nod. Will Brandon pulled his Key from his pocket, twisted it, and he and Jinx walked into nothing. Overpass got up, stretched, and Borin went to let him out. Wantage looked round at them, and then pulled another bread-bun from the basket on the table, and started on it.
“Have several,” Concarnadine said, and tossed two more rolls to the man, who tucked them into his pockets.
Then, like a hawk’s, Concarnadine’s eyes turned to Penny.
“How terrified are you ?” Then a sudden smile: “You’re entitled to be - this is many times deeper and nastier than anything you’re used to.”
Penny swallowed.
“I - I’d rather that none of this had happened. I mean, you’re wonderful people, but if I could go back in time and simply not go to the studio in the first place … “
“You would - I know. Okay … now - “
The telephone rang, in the hall. Concarnadine glanced at Elizabeth, but then they heard Borin’s distant voice, presumably dealing with whatever it was.
“Wantage - we need to - “
“Wantage needs t’go,” Borin said, flatly.
Heads turned, and the dwarf explained.
“That was Barratt - he’s on ‘is way over. Needs our ‘elp, ‘e says.”
“I’ll be on my way,“ Wantage said hastily: “If yer needs me, yer knows where I am.”
He scooped two more rolls from the basket, and a packets of sweet biscuits from the sideboard, and left the room, Borin marching ahead to open the front door again.
“I wonder what the Thane wants,” Elizabeth mused. Then she turned to Penny: “I’m sorry: it looks like our discussion of your problems will have to be adjourned. It’s not that Barratt is more important, just that he is useful, and so we try to stay on his good side.”
“We’ve got maybe twenty minutes,” Borin said. “And ‘e’s bringing a sergeant with ‘im. Said ‘e’d be obliged if we didn’t freak the lad out too badly.”