[Johannes Cabal, a necromancer of some little infamy, has returned to Adstringendum. He is holding the PCD at an odd angle, thumb half over the camera, the old police station clearly in view behind him. His face is flushed, eyes glazed, and he seems to be dressed in pajamas.]
-- not again.
[His voice is cracking and dull from disuse, and,
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You alright?
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He's out of breath, sitting unsteadily.]
Who - are you?
[Seething, through his teeth.]
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Jack. You know me. Or you did.
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Funny.
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[Johannes is barely managing to hold himself into a sitting position.]
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-- did you just curse the name of Nyarlothotep?
[As in -- of Cthulu legend?
-- also, you look like something of a smarmy jerk, so River will ask about your well-being shortly.]
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[He's out of breath by the time he answers you, River. He is clearly not at peak mental capacity.]
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[She sounds interested, and not at all disbelieving.]
How fascinating -- do you need any help? You look as if he beat you upside the head with Chaos itself.
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[He sounds wearied, only half truly coherent.]
And you're another avatar, I suppose. Clever.
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Johannes.
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I must have been popular.
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[Typical.]
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[It's in his penmanship, but he's always so dubious of things in his hand that he doesn't remember writing.]
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[Admittedly, you're not the Cabal brother she'd have wish to get back first but she's glad to see him back. It gives her hope, somehow. Only his last word startles her a bit.]
...Nyarlothotep?
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[He brings a hand to his mouth to mask a cough.]
And yes, Nyarlothotep, the crawling chaos, the trickster, Loki, Anansi - he and I haven't been getting along.
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[She notices the cough and eyes Johannes, non-plussed.] You're sick?
I see. And how did you two become acquainted?
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[He wipes at his forehead with his sleeve, catching his breath.]
Unless you're not actually an avatar of his -- and in that case, my apologies.
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