Closed RP: Susan is Not Happy (and when Susan ain't happy, NOBODY is happy)

[usethepoker]

((Backdated to February 10, just after Stephen's popcorn-letter))

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[johnryder]

Ryder had seen that in Susan--how self-contained she was in many ways. She wasn't the sort to give anything of herself away easily, and when she did she probably did it whole hog--which meant this doctor-guy's popping was probably like the end of a little piece of her world. Shit.

"No," he agreed. "Probably not. It's just as well nobody was with her when she got it, or maybe they'd be a corpse right now. I don't know how that scythe thing works, but I wouldn't want to bet my life on the Rule working against it." Death was Death, after all. Could anything stand against its actual incarnation? He hoped they wouldn't have to find out. "Shaun and Liz and your sister...they're not like her. Having them around would just be, as you say, more cannon-fodder. This Sansa, though

[johnryder]

"Yeah, Norse," Ryder said. "And I don't think he does--we're going to have to find him. I've got a little power in that area, but out here, since I'm not at work, it doesn't amount to much. I am pretty sure that if he's taken her somewhere outside this world, no owl's going to find him."

He went to the tall, unglassed window, peering out into the dark. His radar, such as it was, wasn't picking up either one of them, which might or might not be a good thing. Even if Wednesday had taken Susan somewhere Outside (wherever or whatever the hell that might be), there was always a chance she'd somehow find a way back. They had to deal with her as she was, somehow.

[callmewednesday]

Out there in the darkness, a figure could be seen swooping across the lambent moon. It was a tall man in an overcoat, riding on a broomstick.

Charles peered out the window around Ryder. "Of all the nights for someone to want to play daredevil on a broom," he said, rather irritably.

Then the figure swooped toward them - rocketed toward them, really. On instinct Charles pulled Ryder away from the window.

He needn't have worried. Wednesday decelerated in plenty of time to make a light landing amongst the owls.

"And here I was aiming for the only sizable unglazed window in the castle, never dreaming you boys had decided to make my life easier by waiting right here for me. Or is this an ambush?" Gone were his backstage trappings. He was the dapper businessman again.

[johnryder]

...That was almost too easy, Ryder thought--what the hell was going to go wrong now? Something had to balance out that piece of good luck.

"No, we were actually going to try to look for you," he said. "We think we might know how to snap Susan out of this--there's a girl we have to talk to first, and make sure she'll do it, but if she will I think it'll make Susan actually stop and think about what in the name of all fuck she's doing."

[callmewednesday]

Good luck? No. It was Wednesday's luck, plain and simple.

"Didn't I ever tell you I'm a lucky guy? It's lucky I am, too, with this mess we're in. Who's the girl and why haven't you talked to her already?" Had they been twiddling their thumbs while Wednesday escorted Madame Hell-Hath-No-Fury behind the curtain?

"Her name's Sansa Stark," contributed a pale and shaky Charles. "Susan's been tutoring her, I think. Something like that. We hadn't talked to her yet because we weren't sure how we'd find you. Now that's taken care of, let me owl her."

"I suggest you don't invite her to the Owlery. The ambience leaves something to be desired," said Wednesday dryly.

"No. I'm going to tell her to meet us in Susan's room. I've got a key. There's something there I want to give Sansa, if she's willing to help us."

[johnryder]

Ryder, in spite of everything, wanted a look at that sword himself. He'd had no idea Death could have two weapons, nor had he ever thought he'd get the chance to actually see one, except in a terminal sense.

"You've got Susan somewhere safe for now?" he said. It was only half a question; if anyone could keep a creature like Susan somewhere she couldn't annihilate the population, it would be a god. "She can't get out, can she?"

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday only grunted. "With an eidetic memory and a good command of runes, she could get out."

Charles was setting loose an owl with his short missive to Sansa. He rounded on Wednesday. "You didn't hurt her." It wasn't a question.

"No," said Wednesday mildly, "I didn't."

[johnryder]

Eidetic memory...shit. "Which she probably has," Ryder said, crushing out his cigarette on his boot. "One, if not both. We'd better get moving."

He watched the exchange between Charles and Wednesday, interested. Charles definitely really was turning out to be a lot less self-centered than Ryder had pegged him--if he didn't know any better, he'd say the kid was actually being protective.

[charlesmacaulay]

Wednesday could read that vibe quite well. Charles was being protective, all right, and it had everything to do with self-interest. Beyond that, of course, he couldn't know what was going through Charles's mind, not without probing it in a way he had neither time nor interest to do.

Charles didn't know what was going through his own mind himself, really. All he knew was that things were happening fast, and time was of the essence, and he didn't want Susan to get hurt if it was at all possible to prevent that, because Susan was the only person around here who gave a damn about him.

Charles looked hard at Wednesday. "You're Odin?"

Wednesday shrugged. "I have many names. You can call me Wednesday."

Charles turned to Ryder. "He's Odin? And you trust him?"

If what Charles remembered of Norse myth was at all right, no one should trust Odin.

[johnryder]

"I trust him enough," Ryder said, blunt as only a demon could be. "It's in everyone's self-interest that Susan come back down off this...thing...and I sure as hell don't want to have to hurt her to do it. Not least because then I'd be stuck with all her damn cats for eternity."

As if on cue, a lone kitten came in and sat on his boot. He sighed, and picked it up, ignoring the cat hairs that transferred onto his shirt. "Besides, I promised Camilla I'd look after her."

[charlesmacaulay]

Charles did not trust Wednesday. He suspected Wednesday didn't care whether Susan lived or died, ended up sane or stark raving mad, so long as Wednesday got what he needed. Maybe what Wednesday needed were corpses. He was a death god, wasn't he? A god of warriors?

There'd be blood enough if Susan were left unchecked, though. What was the worst-case scenario?

"Beggars can't be choosers," Wednesday reminded a silent and apprehensive Charles.

Charles exhaled a long harsh breath. "True enough." He believed Ryder, even if he couldn't trust Wednesday. Why did he trust Ryder? Because Ryder made sense. He said he'd made a promise to Camilla. That was logic Charles could understand.

"Don't worry," he told Ryder. "Milly's safe."

Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

[johnryder]

Ryder didn't know how the hell Charles could have gotten his sister out safe in the middle of all this, but he nodded anyway. "She's not gonna try to show up with...soup, or something?" Ryder didn't know Camilla nearly so well as Charles or Susan, but some things were easy enough to predict. "Good."

Ryder wouldn't be surprised if Wednesday didn't care what happened to Susan, so long as she was neutralized as a threat. He himself did, though, even if it was for rather dodgy reasons--aside from his promise to Camilla, Susan was entertaining in her weirdness, and Ryder didn't want his own personal TV show losing a character. They really were the wrong reasons for wanting to make sure someone came out in one piece, but they were reasons nonetheless.

"So let's find this Sansa kid--the sooner we deal with all this, the better."

[callmewednesday]

As if on cue, Sansa's reply arrived. Wednesday watched as Charles took the message neatly from the owl and dashed off his reply. So much could be read simply from the little exchange he'd just witnessed. Charles had clearly interpreted Ryder's reasoning quite differently from what had been meant, and Wednesday found that internal lexicon quite suggestive