M20 Chronicle: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream Episode 4

Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition Chronicle: 

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

CAST

Dresden:  Learning from this book has only served to rile his appetite for knowledge, but not put it back to bed. He's ready to return to LA to see what else they can learn.

Joe Nerius: Isn't sure about all this book magick mumbo jumbo Dresden goes on about, but whatever works for him. He's ready to return to LA to continue their search.

They heard the approaching footsteps, so Dresden reached out with his mind to try to read the thoughts of whoever was approaching.

“Sector 2FNEQ09814A is showing a breach. Must process search and return to watch by 0300. Must make report to send back to HQ.” the voice seemed distant, as if heard through radio static from a great distance, it tasted like plastic to him.

Joe Nerius was scanning the wall at the end of the hallway confirming its material density and weakest point in case he needed to blast his way through it for an emergency escape. Behind the wall felt hollow, devoid of anything. There would be almost no resistance to a properly aimed blow, and they could get out that way if they had to. 

The footsteps were getting close enough that they had to make up their minds about what they were going to do. Dresden quickly lead them into the best hiding spot to still see some of the hallway’s entrance. 

An old man with a flashlight in a security guard uniform approached the hallways illusionary wall and called into it, “Now alright folks, whoever’s in there ought to show themselves and we can sort out the how’s and why’s of you being here back at the guard shack. I am armed, so don’t make me come in there.”

The pair remained silent. The security guard shrugged and stepped through the wall. He looked around and entered the first room and began searching. The pair saw their chance and rushed for the door. Joe took off ahead and smashed his way around corners in his scramble for the main exit. Dresden rounded one corner and tripped over the carpet Joe had crumpled.

“Now that’s far enough young man. Lay down with your hands behind your head, you’re under arrest,” the old man shouted, approaching Dresden with his nightstick in one hand and pepper spray in the other.

Joe turned back towards the two. Using the heat and sweat he’d generated from his run, he willed the gravity surrounding the pepper spray to collect more gravity than it was due. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get the guard to drop it. The guard’s body stiffened. The hand that had held the pepper spray fell away to reveal the barrels of a gatling gun. 

“Fuck it’s a Technocrat HIT,” Dresden called as he scrambled backwards on his hands and knees.

Joe charged the guard and ripped the night stick from his hand. In one motion he supercharged the nightstick with magickal energy as he lifted it above his head, then bringing it down with all his strength on the HIT’s face. The skin tore away from the exoskeleton, exposing the red glow of the machine’s undisguised eyes. The blow from the nightstick didn’t seem to slow it down. It began to turn it’s gatling gun arm towards Joe, who immediately focused his magickal energy to his fists and he bent the gun’s barrel before the guard slammed him with its free hand. 

Joe crashed into the wall at the far end of the hallway, unable to tell whether the breaking sounds he heard were from the splintering furniture that broke his fall or something internal. He hurt all over, but there was no time to deal with the injury. The guard was advancing down the hallway toward him. Dresden scrambled to his feat and with some quick calculations was able to put the guard in a time bubble to slow him down. It didn’t shut him off or stop him completely, but he was moving slow enough to get past at this point.

“Let’s hit the road. I don’t want to see how long it will take for that thing to bust out of my spell,” Dresden said yanking Joe to his feet as the two continued their retreat out the mansion, San Jose, and Northern California.

After getting a good start on the journey, they found the first sparsely populated rest stop along the way to finally assess Joe’s injuries. Luckily it was just a lot of bruising and maybe a cracked rib. Dresden wasn’t an expert in field medicine, but he knew enough to be able to tape up Joe’s ribs to they didn’t ache as much while he drove. 

Once they got back on the road, Dresden leaned back and rushed to his mental demesne. In the center of the mental library was a new books. The book was sealed in an airtight container with rubber glove windows to reach into the box to examine the books. Dresden began to study the text of the book, looking for something to help expand his new understanding of correspondence magic. It took most of the trip, but by the end of it Dresden stepped back into the waking Reality with his understanding vastly improved.

They returned to 29 Palms. Joe needed to blow off some steam, so he headed off to the closest casino to spend the evening gambling, or at least watching the tables. People watching was better when you could gamble to pass the time when people got boring.

Dresden retreated to his giftschrank sanctum to study while Joe was off at the casino. In the middle of his studying, his phone buzzed to alert him of a new text message, followed by a half dozen follow-up buzzes. Without looking he knew it was his brother Caleb Wyatt. He was throwing some big bonfire party that he threw every month. He told Dresden that he wanted his brother there with him and that Joe was welcome to come too.

It was concluded “It’ll be a beautiful human experience for the energetic souls filled with life thanking the universe for its gift of consciousness so that it can know itself through us.” and there was a grinning starfish emoji next to a solar system emoji. Dresden shook his head and sent back “OK”

It didn’t take long for Dresden to lose interest in his work and develop a powerful thirst in the dusty giftschrank. He packed up what he was working on and set off for Rusty Shackleford’s Bar/Lounge. Along the way he saw Ler’Lee’Anne walking in the long striding steps of someone trying to hurry without looking like they are trying to hurry.

“Hey Ler’Lee’Anne, how’s Rusty’s today?” Dresden said in a voice loud enough to draw her attention.

“Oh, howdy, Mr Dresden,” after identifying the owner of the voice she cast her gaze back toward the pavement, “Rusty’s is fine. Still standin’.”

“How’s the old boy Rusty himself?”

“He’s...fine. He’s been...fine. I can’t talk now, I’m running late,” she left off her normal invite to meet her at Rusty’s that she was famous for adding to the end of all her conversations to drum up business for Rusty’s.

Dresden was a little confused, but took her reserved responses as a warning to steer clear of Rusty Shackleford’s Bar/Lounge. He had really been hoping for some whiskey to wash the taste of San Jose out of his brain. He ran into Joe on his way back to the school.

“Steer clear of Rusty’s tonight. Ran into Ler’Lee’Anne on my way over there. Something’s up with Rusty. We should just head back to Sunset Beach and meet up with my brother.”

“You don’t even want to see what’s up with Rusty?” Joe asked, “Well how about we at least get a bottle of something for the road?”

Dresden’s eyebrows raised with interest. Joe nodded knowingly and headed for the rear of the bar. There was a low hanging portion of the roof that was easy enough to scurry onto. Joe was able to find a way into the attic crawl space. It was a small space that extended over the entire bar space below. The attic had been build out of repurposed wooden pallets that Rusty had dragged in from who knows where and put up himself. There was enough space between them to see down into the bar. 

He saw Rusty crash through the front door and throw a small duffel bag at Ler’Lee’Anne. Screaming about what useless crap she’d gotten for him and how he didn’t have time for her bullshit half assed jobs. He raged for a few moments before slamming his way into the backroom. Joe followed silently after him. He had to move slow to not alert the bar below. He was able to catch just the tail end of a conversation Rusty was having with the shadowy figure in his mirror.

“I’m doing everything I can. I promise next time I head out there I’ll be prepared and I won’t come back empty handed, just you wait. You’ll see,” Rusty walked away from the mirror and back up to the front of the bar.

Joe made his way back outside and motioned for Dresden to follow him into the bar, “Rusty’s got himself caught up in something dangerous. I need you to distract them at the bar, so I can check the duffel bag he had with him and yes I’ll snag us some road booze.” 
Rusty and Ler’Lee’Anne were behind the bar. The duffel bag Rusty had discarded was still sitting at the end of the bar. Joe moved into place pretending to be staring at the TV in the corner. Dresden sat down in front of Ler’Lee’Anne and began droning on about the proper way for whiskey to be made, poured, served, and tasted Ler’Lee’Anne and Rusty were both enthralled enough to pay attention to him. Joe leaned over and did a quick scan through of the bag. It was filled with what looked like brand new tools that had all been used very recently for a task that took their tole on the shiny finish of the tools. Whatever Rusty was getting up to, it looked like he was having trouble with it. 

Joe quickly reached behidn the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, before stashing it in his jacket, clearing his throat very theatrically, and heading toward the door. Dresden concluded his speech: “Well if you haven’t got an 18th century Dutch whiskey jib, then what the hell is the point of drinking it anyway?” The two met up outside, Joe telling Dresden what he’d seen as they drove, and Dresden for his part drinking heavily the entire time.  When they finally arrived at Caleb Wyatt’s beach party, Dresden had finished the entire bottle himself.  

“Welcome brother from my blood mother. The Galactic Starfish welcomes you. You’re both welcomed to this place of peace and unity and oneness. Please mingle, become a piece of the party or become the party itself. Refreshments are everywhere,” Caleb Wyatt said as he approached them. He was wearing a dhoti made of very brightly patterned fabric and had various plants and flowers weaved into his dreadlocks.

Joe gave him a head to toe look, “That’ll be a hard pass from me Caleb. It’s been a long day and I need some sleep.” 

“Well I’m all fer it brother,” Dresden slurred as he threw an arm around Caleb’s shoulder, “Less go sees what kinna party you got goin on here. Tonigh it alla bout life. Tasting the fucking marrow of it. THE GLORIOUS MARROW!”

Caleb smiled broadly handing his brother a red solo cup of punch. Dresden drank it without thinking and the rest of the night blurred. He had memories of staring into the bonfire for hours, but also memories of dancing, debating whether or not ebooks were in fact a technocratic plot to destroy literature, running through the waves, hearing music, shouting and laughing, and was that Deirdre that brought him a second drink? 

By the time Dresden rejoined the conscious world, the sun was already beating down on his hung over head. His vision was a blur, but just clear enough for him to stumble off the beach back to Caleb’s tower. He looked up at it and saw an aura surrounding it, almost as though it had a powerful light shining on it from directly above. As the fog of his restless sleep started to lift out of his head, he started to hear voices whispering to him. He looked back toward the beach the sound seemed to be coming from. He saw dozens of spirit beings dispersing from the place where the party had been last night. They disappeared as they left the aura glow of Caleb’s tower.


“Huh. This is new”