| One Soul Slightly Used | |||||
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| What: Jack Hawksmoor and Moon Knight pay Jack Russell a visit at Russoff Castle in order to help him with his 'demon problem'... | |||||
A wolf howls.
It is not an uncommon this at this time of evening, with the sun more or less having gone to sleep for the night already. Castle Russoff stands upon a small island all by itself, on the middle of the Gotham River, just within the city limits. The stone bridge that connects the castle to the shore is bare of cars and pedestrians -- few use it but those travelling to or from the castle, and precious few do that too.
The walls rise high around the stone courtyard -- well-kept, it is, in spite of the gloomy atmosphere -- and guardwolves prowl in the shadows, watching for trespassers. There are some lights on inside, particularly where the library is, and the windows are open.
Within, the walls are lined with books and there are couches and tables at which to sit and read. High above, walkways connect indoor balconies to reach the upper shelves. Following an angry snarl that echoes out from the library, a tome goes flying through the window and out into the courtyard...
Marc Spector leads the way to the castle, not bothered by the sounds of howls or the shadows of something wolf-like off the road to the castle. The island it's on is probably pretty rustic looking for Jack's norm, but as the island itself is in a river smack in the middle of the city, hopefully it's not uncomfortable for him. Inside the dim castle Marc seems to know where he's going...and the snarl helps if he has any doubt. "..I guess he hasn't come up with anything much yet." he supposes dryly to Jack. "Hey, Russell," he calls, when he reaches the library doors.
Jack Hawksmoor has, in fact, been here before. He glances around for Vuk, but sees no sign of the wolfman. "Sounds that way. I'm keeping an eye as best I can on the sister - she's in a coma in Gotham Mercy." He doesn't seem bothered by snarling and howling. HE almost certainly can't be turned into a werewolf.
Rus's ears catch the conversation, and he sends tendrils of soul-energy toward the doors to open them for his guests. The man himself perches upon a ladder -- one of those with the runners that can move about the shelves -- holding one book in his paw, and another under his arm. He is in semi-lupine form, looking mostly humanoid but with wolfy characteristics.
Nostrils flaring, he frowns at Marc and Hawksmoor, and slides down to the ground. "Spector. Hawksmoor. Vuk mentioned ya." He trudges across the floor to an empty pedestal and lays a tome upon it. Then he stops and stares at the Citywalker, giving Marc a glare of would I really bite him?.
"Didja just say what I thought ya said? You found Lisa?"
The citywalker smells...interesting. "I found her body. I don't think it's currently occupied," Jack says, quietly. "But I can make sure they don't pull the plug while we find the rest of her."
Rus leans over the pedestal, not bothering to open the tome just yet, bowing his head so that his face is half-hidden in shadow. He lets out a breath through his nostrils and slowly nods a few times in response to Hawksmoor's report.
The wolfman frowns in confusion at the Citwalker's scent, completely baffled. Pinching his nose, he looks back up again and turns to face Hawksmoor directly.
"Yeah, I figured as much. Thanks. Ya managed more'n I could do in years o' searchin'. I thought it'd be easier just checkin' hospitals, but... thanks. How'dja do it, magic?"
"Combination of my peculiar form of psionics and years of experience as a private detective. Mostly the latter." Jack shrugs. "You should swing by when you can and ID her. Would make things easier." He sounds as if he does this kind of thing for people all of the time.
Something in Hawksmoor's tone catches the wolfman's attention, and he shoots a glance in Spector's direction while walking across to a cabinet near some couches.
"Why help?" he asks Hawksmoor outright. "I don't get too many offers o' help 'round here -- or anywhere, fer that matter. Drink? You name it, I... hope I got it."
He smirks. "Yeah, I'll come by. Gotham Mercy, right?" Despite the smirk on his face, Rus looks tired, beaten. He likely has not slept well -- if at all -- in days.
"Marc asked me to. I specialize in finding people and I've had experience in dealing with demons." Jack smiles, then shrugs one shoulder. "You need help and maybe one day I'll need some kind of help you can give. If not, then...well..." The shoulder lifts upwards again.
As Rus gets some glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, he looks back over his shoulder at Hawksmoor, golden eyes glinting. "Ya don' say..." he murmurs in reply, pouring drinks.
He offers one to Jack.
"A favour fer a favour -- now that I can understand. 'Course, I can also understand Spector here ropin' someone in ta help, too. He's weird like that. And nosy. Always meddlin'. I ferget how many I owe him, now..."
The wolfman drains his glass in a single go.
"So. Talk to me about demons. D'ya know anythin' about Chthon?"
Jack Hawksmoor accepts the drink. "No. Marc's going to swing by Oblivion...place gives me a headache...and see what he can find out. I know something about demons, but I haven't bumped into that one yet." Yes, he's reading this guy right. Somebody who wouldn't expect charity/altruism.
Rus pours himself another glass, morphing into a form more 'human' -- except for the eyes -- and snorts. "Yeah, Oblivion drives me up the wall too; all the scents're... off. Weird. Th' drinks're good though."
He lets out a sigh and sits on the arm of a couch, watching Hawksmoor with narrowed eyes. "Chthon's a demon-lord. One o' the worst," he tells the other man. "We got history, him'n me. Long story. What happened ta you, Hawksmoor? Cut a deal ya ended up regrettin'?"
"Three day vacation in Hell. Long story." Jack's lips quirk. "Hold on...Marc, excuse me, Gotham's being antsy about something."
"It's a good place to have a drink and a quiet peaceful talk, though." Marc comments, a hint of irritation in his voice in the wake of what may have been a less peaceful talk just now.
Marc tilts his head, but nods to Jack. "That woman with the hat again?" he wonders, though considering Hawksmoor it may be too late to get a response before he's vanished.
Russell frowns and tucks in his chin, looking at from Jack to Marc with curiosity. "If I were Gotham, I'd be ansty about a lotta things," he mutters to himself, and drinks more whiskey. He narrows his eyes at Marc.
"Who's this woman?"
Marc Spector re enters the room, looking to claim a drink for himself if the fixings are out. "That's the mystery." he glances in the direction Jack disappeared. "She didn't give her name, but the last time he ran off like that, an ex-cop lady was in an alley fight with some delinquents she'd helped put away. It seemed like she was in some hard times."
There's a nod of Russell's head, and he has more of his drink. "Fair enough," he replies. "Ain' gonna pretend I know a thing about what Hawksmoor does, or how he does it. I'm just...hmph. Glad fer the help."
He shakes his head and lets his eyes fall closed for a moment. "I reckon Lisa's body can stay at the hospital. Safer there than here. Ain' got no clue as to what to do next, though."
Marc Spector , having been out of the room blinks. "I didn't know her body had been found. So it's...just her soul that was taken?" he adds, "Hawksmoor's a good man."
"I'll take yer word for it," Russell responds as he finishes his second glass. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the wolfman sets the glass down. "Yeah, seems Chthon only took her soul. Who knows what he's doin' with it -- I don' wanna think about that, ta be honest. I feel closer ta settin' this whole thing right, thanks ta this, so I'm grateful. Sure beats a kick in th' teeth."
Jack Hawksmoor steps out of the wall. "Sorry about that. Somebody managed to end up trapped *under* one of the bridges." Jack rolls his eyes. "Okay. We'll get it back. Apart from anything else, I'm pretty sure this is against the rules."
"Hawksmoor found her?" Marc wonders, surprised...though perhaps he shouldn't be. If she was in a hospital, she was probably within the Citywalker's purview after all.
"Says he has," Rus replies, eyeing Hawksmoor... but with less suspicion than his words might suggest. He snorts derisively and shrugs his shoulders. "God knows how, but I reckon it's the truth. Mebbe I'll actually sleep tonight."
He pushes away from the couch and goes to put the bottle of whiskey back in the cupboard. "Doubt it though. Not till this is over."
"Well. We need to find out everything we can about this specific demon. Which kind he is, what his rank is, what hell he's from." Jack lets out a breath. "So. I need everything you have. How he manifested. What he looked like, smelled like..."
Marc Spector turns to look over his shoulder when Russell does -- and ah, there's Jack, and that strange spiritual peculiarity of his. Since Jack seems to be back on topic, Marc assumes Gotham's errand went well enough, and he takes a step back, letting Russell reply.
Russell stops with his back to the other two men, and clenches his jaw for a few moments. "Alright." He turns around to face Hawksmoor. "Chthon's an Elder-God -- at least, that's what some call him. He's one o' the big leagues demons. In his home realm he's pretty much unstoppable..." That detail causes Rus's lip to curl in distaste. "He's the guy that created my family -- well, turned us inta werewolves. He'd show up more in this plane, but he can't without a host, so instead he came ta me in a dream."
The wolfman goes silent and starts to pace back and forth. "He smells like death -- death 'n fire. Has a penchant fer offerin' power -- friggin' enormous power -- but at a price, and in my case... he took Lisa. I don' know how ta fight 'im. That's what all the book-learnin' is for, hmph."
Jack Hawksmoor nods. "Alright. We need to keep a double watch on Lisa. Moon Knight, can you think of a place we can stash her which can hold her if he decides to use her as a host?" Yeah. This is why you bring in Jack...he's got a nasty mind.
The Moon's Avatar blows out a slow breath, rolling up his eyes thoughtfully. "..Khonshu's got no love for demons. He doesn't really care to help Jack, but he wouldn't mind thwarting Chthon. If I kept her near a focus of his power, it should be enough to keep him from possessing her. Considering this thing's power... I wouldn't count on our ability to evict this demon from someone once he did get a foothold. So she'd have to stay there to be protected."
Russell blinks.
"Use...Lisa??" he barks in semi-suppressed horror. The wolfman glances at Marc and then at Jack, his eyes wide and teeth bared. "Would he really -- he would, wouldn't he? Bastard." He spreads his arms a little, flexing his fingers in anger while he attempts to regain control of his emotions.
"Do whatever ya have to. 'N yeah, I'll owe ya one." He glances at Marc once more. "Another one."
"He would. He'll do whatever it takes to get a foothold. Right now, she won't be going anywhere." Jack lets out a breath. "And much better to keep them out than have to evict them. I know that from experience." Bitter experience. Vacations in Hell.
Marc nods grimly. "If you drop her by, I'll do what I can." considering Hawksmoor likely already knows Khonshu's statue is in Grant's home, he surely will. The group of them protect that place more than any other aspect of their identities.
"Do you think Illyana or Genevieve could use her body to trace back the connection to her soul?" he frowns though. "Though if this demon owns it, even if we could bring it back, he'd just claim it again."
"The Deal," Rus remarks with a nod to Spector and a look at Jack. "The Deal still stands. An' I don' think Chthon will just give Lisa back and take away this, this... magic stuff, if we ask. I got this feelin' he had other motives as well. He coulda given me anythin' -- like a moron, all I said was 'power'. So why this? Why... soul-whatever-it-is?"
He pauses just briefly and asks Hawksmoor:
"Ya mentioned bein' trapped in Hell. How'd ya get out?"
"Marc and a few of my other friends broke me out." A pause. "Well, that was part of it anyway." He's never told Marc what happened between him disappearing from Hell and him reappearing in New York. Or anyone else, as far as Marc knows. "And deals can't be undone but I believe there are some entities that have a dim view on taking a third party's soul."
"Some higher powers hate me less'n others do," is Russell's response, but he doesn't argue the point. In fact, this is the best news he has heard since he made the Deal. "Whatever ya need, you go it," he tells Hawksmoor and Spector. "I don't care if it costs MY soul -- just so long as Lisa don't hafta pay fer my mistakes, yeah?"
Wearily, he rubs at his eyes, squeezing them shut and shaking his head. Giving Marc a look, he adds: "I don't think Khonshu likes me at ALL, but if he wants ta stick his beak into this... I'll take it." To Hawksmoor he asks, "How'd the... city-thing take it, you bein' stuck in hell'n all?"
"That's...a real complex story. But the point is that Lisa paying for your mistakes is supposed to be against the rules. I might need to know more about, ya know, how you ended up a werewolf." Not that Jack has a problem with werewolves per se.
"It depends. Are you the eldest?" Marc -- or maybe it's Moon now -- cuts in. "There are precedents for giving away the souls or lives of those one is responsible for. Children, slaves, younger siblings if the parents are gone. There may be more Powers that don't agree with such deals, but the power behind them may be is no less than a soul given by the owner."
Russell heaves a sigh of defeat.
"I told-I told the stupid demon...'the soul of a Russoff'." And he hangs his head. "My exact words. 'The soul of a Russoff'. I thought he'd just take me; I'd begun thinking Lisa was already dead...and then he -- Chthon, that is -- let me hear her voice in my dream. She was screamin'."
He looks back at Hawksmoor and Spector, clearly emotional if not exactly crying. If anything, he is mostly angry. "Given what I said... Don't that mean he could take any soul? So long as it's part o' my family?"
"...which means he didn't follow your intent. Hrm. Might be a loophole. Grrr. We need a real expert on demonic pacts." Jack sighs.
"Any that was yours to promise by whatever rules he's bound to." the avatar agrees. "But it sounds as if he's already made his choice. He'd have no obligation to change it.."
"There might be something in th' Darkhold about that," Russell offers. "Chthon wrote it -- " and he turns to Jack Hawksmoor. "It's how my ancestor became the first werewolf of this line. He sold his soul for a page -- just a page -- o' the Darkhold. That's what began the curse, an' it spread through my entire family. Now there's just me 'n Lisa left. And my uncle, but I reckon he's dead. Somethin' tells me I ain' that lucky though."
He pauses.
"What about a new deal? Something different ta trade fer Lisa?"
"He also might have used the fact that you don't call yourself Russoff as an excuse."Jack considers. "Better yet, why did he want her not you? What does it get him you don't?"
Marc grimaces. "That's true, the only time I hear you say Russoff is when you're talking about this place or your family." he agrees with Hawksmoor. "But as to what he gets..It gives him Russell with new creepy soul-sucking powers who's willing to do anything to save his sister, I'd guess. Honestly, I'm a little surprised he hasn't contacted you since?"
Russell, at Spector's words, silently curses himself and hangs his head a bit. It is too late to hide the expression, and he knows it, so instead he lifts his arms in a helpless shrug.
"I hear his voice sometime when I'm sleepin'," he tells Marc while stealing a glance at the other Jack. "An' I hear Lisa's. I think he wants souls -- not just deaths, souls. I reckon he took Lisa coz I got more control over the Wolf. She don't. Never hadda chance ta learn. Don't say it -- I know I'm screwed."
He decides to go back to the cabinet for more whiskey. "At least, that's what I think he wanted. Mebbe he just wanted a more innocent victim ta torture. Lisa ain' never done what I done."
"Which could mean the basic thing of he reckons he'll get yours anyway," Jack says, grimly. "Doing this might give him a two-fer. We definitely need a demonic pacts expert."
Marc Spector nods with a frown. "I knew someone like that. But I haven't seen him around in ages." he turns to Russell then. "If he gives you any ultimatums.. you'll let us know? We might have to work this out on our own."
The wolfman nods, and starts drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. "Yeah, I will," he tells both men. "I gotta try'n get some shut-eye then. If Chthon shows up... I'll let ya know."
He starts walking away, only to pause mid-stride.
"Thanks," he says to them both. "I mean it."