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edenfallingI did a bit of research (basically reading plot summaries of the Anita books and glancing over the timeline of the novels) and I have decided that this story takes place during the nearly year-long gap between Obsidian Butterfly and Narcissus in Chains. Any world-building up to that point is in effect. Anything after that point may very well be ignored.
That said, here is the next section, wherein you start to see how I have warped and cherry-picked plot bits from Inception and woven them into this different world and story. (1,400 words)
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Weregild, part 3
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Ariadne trailed a respectful three steps behind Asher as he swept through Guilty Pleasures, casually blanking his presence from the minds of the human patrons. He was not a vampire to cross at the best of times, and something about Arthur and Cobb, or the news they carried, had him both worried and angry.
She hadn't expected that. She'd figured she'd deliver her news and be given a message to tell the strangers to wait a day or two, but when she'd reached the lower levels of the Circus and spoken to Asher in lieu of Jean-Claude, he'd gone terribly cold and still for a long moment before bursting into motion. A passing vampire had been sent to notify Jean-Claude, a wolf had been ordered to call the Executioner, and Asher himself had streaked through the sky toward Guilty Pleasures with Ariadne struggling to match his pace.
Things had finally seemed to be settling down this past year -- the Council had stopped harassing Jean-Claude, the werewolves weren't oppressing the other shifter groups, and the Executioner had managed to keep her chaos out of state -- but apparently even the illusion of peace was too good to last.
"Key," Asher said, holding out his hand.
Ariadne unhooked the duplicate key to the private room from her corset and passed it over.
Asher unlocked the door and pushed it open without bothering to knock or announce himself. Then he stopped dead and laughed, sharp and humorless.
"Still the optimist, Arthur?" he said, and stepped sideways so Ariadne could enter the room.
"I would say a cautious realist," Arthur answered, holding his gun steady with both hands, its muzzle aimed toward Asher's chest. "You can almost certainly evade my shot, but the evasion will buy time for Dom to retaliate, and I doubt your companion is fast enough to evade me as well. Shall we call it a draw and have a conversation like civilized people?"
Asher tipped his head in a shallow nod, his long blond hair swinging forward to shadow the good side of his face as well as the ruined right half. "As you will. Ariadne, close the door and sit down."
Ariadne obeyed, hooking the key back onto her corset with its numerous fellows. Arthur slipped his gun back into its holster under his suit jacket and resumed his place at the small table. He smiled absently at Ariadne, then fixed his gaze on Asher's collarbone.
Interesting that he'd meet Ariadne's eyes but not Asher's.
"Dominic Cobb. And Arthur. I confess I am surprised at your claim to have information about private Council business," Asher said, sinking into a chair and steepling his fingers. "I was not aware that you had any contacts within the community after Mallorie's death. But perhaps you are still tied to Saito?"
Cobb twitched and rather jerkily waved a hand. "Saito doesn't appreciate failures. We haven't spoken since San Francisco. But I know people and Arthur knows people. Bounty hunters wouldn't be much use if we didn't have good networks."
"Bounty hunters would also be of little use if they were not compensated for their work," Asher said mildly.
"True," Arthur agreed, his face neutral and his voice equally mild.
"I will be blunt, then," Asher said. "What do you want in return for your news?"
"First, safe passage in St. Louis for a week," Cobb said, leaning forward and steepling his own hands, though he looked at Asher's chin rather than meet his eyes. "Second, any information you have on Peter Lebrun. Third, a request from either you or Jean-Claude to Belle Morte to call Musette off our trail. Mal is dead. We're not affiliated with Belle Morte's line anymore, so she has no authority for us to flout. It's a waste of her time and resources not to let us go."
Asher's power flooded the room. Ariadne held herself very still. Cobb twitched again, smelling faintly of nervousness and exhaustion, but didn't turn aside. Arthur remained neutrally unreadable to all Ariadne's senses.
"The third, I can grant, though Belle Morte chooses her own course and my word means nothing to her," Asher said eventually. "The first will be Jean-Claude's choice, but as his second, I can promise you one night's grace while he decides. The second..." He trailed off, then resumed. "I assume you still seek vengeance for Mallorie's death and the loss of her territory?"
"We still intend to kill him," Arthur said calmly.
This time Asher's laughter held genuine humor, spilling warm and soft through the room. "You will need quite a lot of luck to manage that improbability, my friends. If Peter was strong enough to best Mallorie despite the amplification you gave to her power, how do you expect to challenge him without her to protect you from his gifts? You are not a triumvirate anymore. You are simply the broken remnants."
Cobb's hands clenched and he made a move as if to stand, but Arthur put a hand on his wrist to settle him. "Everyone needs a goal in life," he said. "Reaching it is often irrelevant."
Which was a lie, of course -- revenge as a goal was meaningless unless it was consummated -- but Arthur wasn't making any effort to seem convincing. Asher let the evasion go for the moment. Ariadne relaxed marginally.
"To impossible goals," Asher said, raising his hand as if holding an invisible glass. "I will ask Jean-Claude about that as well, but the final decision is not mine. Now. What information do you bring to us?"
Cobb smiled, thin and bitter. "We bring it to Jean-Claude, not to his second."
Asher snarled.
Cobb snarled back. Arthur tilted his chair onto its rear legs and looked up at the ceiling, as if a centuries-old master vampire in a temper were of no concern. "Patience is a virtue," he said.
Ariadne calculated the distance between herself and the door, and reached the sinking conclusion she couldn't get the door unlocked fast enough to escape any eruption of violence, besides which Asher would remember her disloyalty. She had an equally sinking certainty she didn't want to face Arthur or Cobb in a fight, though the exact nature of their powers remained unknown to her.
Fortunately, Asher recovered his composure.
"I will pass your requests to Jean-Claude," he said. "You have twenty-four hours' grace on my word. Jean-Claude will decide your fate after that."
"What proof do we have to offer any who might challenge?" Cobb asked.
Asher turned to Ariadne. "Fetch paper and pen."
Ariadne fled the room with relief, and then realized, halfway through fetching a sheet of parchment and a fountain pen from her office -- Asher liked archaic touches for formal documents when he didn't have to conform to modern paperwork standards -- that she had to return to deliver them. Some of the entertainers picked up on her nerves as she hurried through the backstage area, but Ariadne forestalled any questions with a shake of her head and the murmured words, "Asher's business."
She knocked before she unlocked the door.
Asher wrote something on the parchment in a fluid, ornamental hand, then pricked his thumb on his fang and pressed a bloody print underneath his signature as an additional mark of authority. "There," he said, folding the parchment and handing it across the table to Cobb. "Safe passage until next midnight. I assume you wish to take rooms underneath the Circus, so as to be available when Jean-Claude agrees to see you."
Arthur shook his head. "No. We already have rooms at a motel, and we prefer not to intrude on any master's place of power. I'm sure Jean-Claude would prefer not to be seen offering us too much hospitality either."
Asher frowned. "Very well. Ariadne will accompany you to your lodgings, in that case, so we will know where to send the summons. Enjoy the rest of your night."
He stood and swept from the room in a trail of blond hair and silk.
Ariadne stared across the table at the two men she'd just been assigned to escort and possibly guard, and wondered what she'd done to deserve the never-ending chaos and power plays of the preternatural world instead of a quiet mortal life.
Probably nothing. She supposed she simply had bad luck. After fifty-eight years, though, she thought she was due a change.
"Shall we go?" she asked. "Or would you like another drink before we leave?"
---------------------------------------------
TBC... maybe
continue to part 4
back to part 2
---------------------------------------------
And now I am off to work!
That said, here is the next section, wherein you start to see how I have warped and cherry-picked plot bits from Inception and woven them into this different world and story. (1,400 words)
---------------------------------------------
Weregild, part 3
---------------------------------------------
Ariadne trailed a respectful three steps behind Asher as he swept through Guilty Pleasures, casually blanking his presence from the minds of the human patrons. He was not a vampire to cross at the best of times, and something about Arthur and Cobb, or the news they carried, had him both worried and angry.
She hadn't expected that. She'd figured she'd deliver her news and be given a message to tell the strangers to wait a day or two, but when she'd reached the lower levels of the Circus and spoken to Asher in lieu of Jean-Claude, he'd gone terribly cold and still for a long moment before bursting into motion. A passing vampire had been sent to notify Jean-Claude, a wolf had been ordered to call the Executioner, and Asher himself had streaked through the sky toward Guilty Pleasures with Ariadne struggling to match his pace.
Things had finally seemed to be settling down this past year -- the Council had stopped harassing Jean-Claude, the werewolves weren't oppressing the other shifter groups, and the Executioner had managed to keep her chaos out of state -- but apparently even the illusion of peace was too good to last.
"Key," Asher said, holding out his hand.
Ariadne unhooked the duplicate key to the private room from her corset and passed it over.
Asher unlocked the door and pushed it open without bothering to knock or announce himself. Then he stopped dead and laughed, sharp and humorless.
"Still the optimist, Arthur?" he said, and stepped sideways so Ariadne could enter the room.
"I would say a cautious realist," Arthur answered, holding his gun steady with both hands, its muzzle aimed toward Asher's chest. "You can almost certainly evade my shot, but the evasion will buy time for Dom to retaliate, and I doubt your companion is fast enough to evade me as well. Shall we call it a draw and have a conversation like civilized people?"
Asher tipped his head in a shallow nod, his long blond hair swinging forward to shadow the good side of his face as well as the ruined right half. "As you will. Ariadne, close the door and sit down."
Ariadne obeyed, hooking the key back onto her corset with its numerous fellows. Arthur slipped his gun back into its holster under his suit jacket and resumed his place at the small table. He smiled absently at Ariadne, then fixed his gaze on Asher's collarbone.
Interesting that he'd meet Ariadne's eyes but not Asher's.
"Dominic Cobb. And Arthur. I confess I am surprised at your claim to have information about private Council business," Asher said, sinking into a chair and steepling his fingers. "I was not aware that you had any contacts within the community after Mallorie's death. But perhaps you are still tied to Saito?"
Cobb twitched and rather jerkily waved a hand. "Saito doesn't appreciate failures. We haven't spoken since San Francisco. But I know people and Arthur knows people. Bounty hunters wouldn't be much use if we didn't have good networks."
"Bounty hunters would also be of little use if they were not compensated for their work," Asher said mildly.
"True," Arthur agreed, his face neutral and his voice equally mild.
"I will be blunt, then," Asher said. "What do you want in return for your news?"
"First, safe passage in St. Louis for a week," Cobb said, leaning forward and steepling his own hands, though he looked at Asher's chin rather than meet his eyes. "Second, any information you have on Peter Lebrun. Third, a request from either you or Jean-Claude to Belle Morte to call Musette off our trail. Mal is dead. We're not affiliated with Belle Morte's line anymore, so she has no authority for us to flout. It's a waste of her time and resources not to let us go."
Asher's power flooded the room. Ariadne held herself very still. Cobb twitched again, smelling faintly of nervousness and exhaustion, but didn't turn aside. Arthur remained neutrally unreadable to all Ariadne's senses.
"The third, I can grant, though Belle Morte chooses her own course and my word means nothing to her," Asher said eventually. "The first will be Jean-Claude's choice, but as his second, I can promise you one night's grace while he decides. The second..." He trailed off, then resumed. "I assume you still seek vengeance for Mallorie's death and the loss of her territory?"
"We still intend to kill him," Arthur said calmly.
This time Asher's laughter held genuine humor, spilling warm and soft through the room. "You will need quite a lot of luck to manage that improbability, my friends. If Peter was strong enough to best Mallorie despite the amplification you gave to her power, how do you expect to challenge him without her to protect you from his gifts? You are not a triumvirate anymore. You are simply the broken remnants."
Cobb's hands clenched and he made a move as if to stand, but Arthur put a hand on his wrist to settle him. "Everyone needs a goal in life," he said. "Reaching it is often irrelevant."
Which was a lie, of course -- revenge as a goal was meaningless unless it was consummated -- but Arthur wasn't making any effort to seem convincing. Asher let the evasion go for the moment. Ariadne relaxed marginally.
"To impossible goals," Asher said, raising his hand as if holding an invisible glass. "I will ask Jean-Claude about that as well, but the final decision is not mine. Now. What information do you bring to us?"
Cobb smiled, thin and bitter. "We bring it to Jean-Claude, not to his second."
Asher snarled.
Cobb snarled back. Arthur tilted his chair onto its rear legs and looked up at the ceiling, as if a centuries-old master vampire in a temper were of no concern. "Patience is a virtue," he said.
Ariadne calculated the distance between herself and the door, and reached the sinking conclusion she couldn't get the door unlocked fast enough to escape any eruption of violence, besides which Asher would remember her disloyalty. She had an equally sinking certainty she didn't want to face Arthur or Cobb in a fight, though the exact nature of their powers remained unknown to her.
Fortunately, Asher recovered his composure.
"I will pass your requests to Jean-Claude," he said. "You have twenty-four hours' grace on my word. Jean-Claude will decide your fate after that."
"What proof do we have to offer any who might challenge?" Cobb asked.
Asher turned to Ariadne. "Fetch paper and pen."
Ariadne fled the room with relief, and then realized, halfway through fetching a sheet of parchment and a fountain pen from her office -- Asher liked archaic touches for formal documents when he didn't have to conform to modern paperwork standards -- that she had to return to deliver them. Some of the entertainers picked up on her nerves as she hurried through the backstage area, but Ariadne forestalled any questions with a shake of her head and the murmured words, "Asher's business."
She knocked before she unlocked the door.
Asher wrote something on the parchment in a fluid, ornamental hand, then pricked his thumb on his fang and pressed a bloody print underneath his signature as an additional mark of authority. "There," he said, folding the parchment and handing it across the table to Cobb. "Safe passage until next midnight. I assume you wish to take rooms underneath the Circus, so as to be available when Jean-Claude agrees to see you."
Arthur shook his head. "No. We already have rooms at a motel, and we prefer not to intrude on any master's place of power. I'm sure Jean-Claude would prefer not to be seen offering us too much hospitality either."
Asher frowned. "Very well. Ariadne will accompany you to your lodgings, in that case, so we will know where to send the summons. Enjoy the rest of your night."
He stood and swept from the room in a trail of blond hair and silk.
Ariadne stared across the table at the two men she'd just been assigned to escort and possibly guard, and wondered what she'd done to deserve the never-ending chaos and power plays of the preternatural world instead of a quiet mortal life.
Probably nothing. She supposed she simply had bad luck. After fifty-eight years, though, she thought she was due a change.
"Shall we go?" she asked. "Or would you like another drink before we leave?"
---------------------------------------------
TBC... maybe
continue to part 4
back to part 2
---------------------------------------------
And now I am off to work!
