OPERATION: ENCORE (Part II)
BARISTA: SAHIR BALI
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-34
My connections have informed me of a rather unsettling new “fast food” operation in Long Beach. It would seem our worst fears have been realized. The churches have gotten in on our game.
A local church has realized it can undercut our operations by selling coffee tax-free. Although I feel this is an abhorrent abuse of their tax-exemption status, they are only charging “donations.” What a load. It’s the “Open Doors of Saint Alphonsus Rodriguez Catholic Church,” or “Open Doors” for short. The Head of the parish is Padre Antonio Jesus Santos. Everyone calls him Padre. Originally from up north. Large and in-charge, bad to the bone, comes in at 3 o’clock.
His flock seems faithful and more-or-less unaware of the Canadian among them. No need to go and harass any of them. Yet. A source indicates he’s brought company with him. Very typical of Padre. There is no information yet on who he has brought, but be aware Canadians are roaming around Long Beach.
Padre, of course, is glamorous, to say the least. He’s not a significant threat as he is now, but if he were to take his mask off, it’d be an all-hands affair. Not sure what he’s up to, but I’ll ask around. Whatever it is, it’s bizarre for him to come down to the U.S. to do it. It must be a big play. I’ll keep everyone updated as I learn more. In the meantime, try to keep your distance from the Open Doors church. I don’t want him getting antsy for coffee we haven’t brewed yet.
BARISTA: SALENNA WHITAKER
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-35
Received a strange hit on the message board. It's not our typical comfort food, and it's from an ID I don't recognize. Whoever entered the site did it with one password attempt, so they knew what they were doing. Here's the message they left.
"Dear CaD,
First and foremost, I am from the future. Well, a future. Time is cyclical and hyperspheroid in nature. I wouldn't be surprised if you already knew this or were on the verge of this discovery yourselves. I am from an adjacent cycle to your own. When and where I come from is the year 2035, roughly 4.249ECCS from your current cycle. I can't say much because everything I say could and will change the course of this cycle. My goal in contacting you is two-fold. I initially traveled back to 19EE to secure an original BaristaTech CaDComEE system due to its ability to decrypt various CaDCode Ciphers, most importantly the "Cafe Crisis Cipher." There is a receipt from the Last Cafe that is encrypted using that technique, and it is vital to the survival of my worldline. Possibly yours as well. It's been 7 years now, and I've been observing this worldline's events, and I've noticed a pressing anomaly. I would like to speak with the Owner, if possible, to see what he thinks.
-John Doe"
Strange. I want to say it's legit. It could also be a trick to get face-to-face with the Owner. My main hang-up here is, backwards time travel, in theory, is possible, yes, but incredibly hard to pull off. If this were someone claiming to be from the past, that'd be a different story. Still, the jargon makes sense. I think I'm going to wait and see if our "John Doe" leaves another message. Of course, you're free to take up his order, J, but I think it's best to wait it out and watch their activity on the site.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-36
I wasn’t expecting that to happen.
Three local kids came into the physical location at around 4 P.M. today, two girls and one boy. All looked to be about the same age, 15-17 or so. They sat down at the counter and asked for coffee. Black.
Thankfully I had just purchased some instant coffee, or else our little ruse would have been sniffed out rather quickly. In fairness, we should keep real coffee on hand should other tourists feel the need to come into the store. However, I have no idea how they managed to find us or why these three inconspicuous kids wanted just standard diner coffee served black. Not really my go-to after-school snack.
I want to give them the benefit of the doubt, of course. Using regular children… It doesn’t seem like something Padre would do… no, if they were churchgoers, we’d know. We’d know fast. And they didn’t ask for salt and pepper, either. I know Astrid is “young,” but these three didn’t give off the same “aura” that she gives off. The strangest thing was the boy. He seemed to be expecting something more than the cheap coffee I handed him. There was a look in his eyes that he knew more than the others did. Ah, speaking of eyes, the red-headed girl had the most peculiar eyes-Canadian eyes. Perhaps that’s why they came in? For some direct service?
All in all, though, we made 3 dollars. Good to see we’re starting to turn a profit, eh?
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: MID AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-37
Those kids were back today, although they didn’t come inside this time. I saw them snooping around looking through our trash, which I think we can all agree isn’t typical teenager behavior. Interestingly enough, the boy with glasses kept having the red-haired girl look around the Cafe through a modified planchette shaped monocle of sorts. I wonder what they were looking for? Perhaps it is best to simply ask them…?
Then again, few good things come to those who ask too many questions.
If they are to stop by again, I think I shall have a chat with them. See what business they have with the Cafe. At this point, I find it hard to believe they simply enjoy the cheap instant coffee or the lackluster ambiance of a late 80s Cafe and Diner facade. The boy knows something of our operations. Why else would he order his coffee “black?” And the red-haired girl, she has some tie to Ottawa that I can’t quite place yet… Oh, and then there is that other girl. She has a look in her eyes that sends chills down even my spine… She has the eyes of a haberdasher, no doubt. You know, perhaps they would be interested in working for the Cafe part-time? We do have a few numbers left to fill. Let me know your thoughts, but I’ll warn you, I’ve already made up my mind on the matter.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-38
Those strange kids were back again. And after a long discussion with the three of them, I am happy to announce they will be joining our operation part-time.
We now have Employees #35, 44, and 1313. Code named Medium, UFO, and Scry, respectively. Jenni will be assisting me in envisioning the future of the Cafe and Diner, seeing what opportunities are out there and such. Nick will be assisting Salenna and Sahir equally in their affairs and operations. At his own request, he would like to work on constructing a parking lot in his free time. In case we ever need to park cars. Humor him, please. Finally, Nikki will be working and studying alongside Felix and is free to assist Alex when needed. Of course, all three are still in school, so don’t expect them around the Cafe on weekdays until after 4 pm.
Additionally, Nick and Nikki have relatively well-known parents, as Sahir has pointed out. I doubt we can keep their working here a secret for long, so I and Felix will be taking a trip to visit them and keep them in the loop as well. Jenni’s parents don’t seem to be interested in Canadian tourism, so it’s best to let them know she is working at an utterly generic Cafe and Diner for the time being.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE AUGUST
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-39
Finally, finally, finally. Do you know how hard it was to not just embrace Nick the second he walked in? My dear friend, Nick. If only you could know. Interestingly enough, we are… well, a year or so ahead of schedule. The three of them weren’t supposed to enter the picture until 1996. In the grand scheme of things, a year is nothing, although I do wonder if this means we can “defeat” Satan ahead of schedule too? It could be nice to have a few extra years before, well, I take my leave.
There is nothing I want more right now than to sit down with the three of them and catch them up on all the adventures we once shared a universe ago. But… For now, I must remain a stranger. Besides, with the sword of Damocles looming over my head, it’s probably better for them not to get too attached. Of course, I will do what I can to set them on a less tragic path than the one they endured before. Still, I cannot control fate.
Speaking of, another secret I am tired of holding onto is this blasted “blight” that affects me. It troubles me to see Felix so worried for my health when I know that I still have five years to go. Or is it four now? I wish he would take it easy, but I know that he can’t. And for a good reason, I suppose. And mon amour, ah how I wish I could see her right now. But history is history, I’m afraid. If only she knew. Perhaps… if we are able to handle Satan early, I can find some way to sneak off to the Morningstar to spend my last few years with her.
I am unsure what will become of me once the blight takes full control. I never had the chance to find out last time around, seeing as the Bird decided to step in and change things. With him out of the picture… I suppose it is time to see what this “debt” has in store for me and my cursed number. With Jenni now here, I can start making plans for the ascension of the mantle as well. I still have time to mull it over, but I think I will tell the three of them everything before my time comes. It might be the only way to keep them together instead of drifting so far apart. Plus, someone needs to carry out my grand plan, and I can’t have mon amour leading them down a dead end.
In any case, should you be reading this report, Nick, Jenni, and Nikki... It is so good to see you three again.
With love,
BARISTA: NIKKI LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-40
That Hatman creep, Umbra or whatever, paid me a visit last night in my own room. Gross, right? I think he wanted me to convey some sort of threat or whatever about us meddling with the consorts. I bet he chose me to deliver it because he thought I’d be scared shirtless after the whole Xavier thing. Maybe I was a bit scared, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Also, I don’t know if he was bluffing or what, but his like paralysis thingy didn’t work on me like at all. He seemed genuinely surprised, but then again, I don’t know if he just wants us to think I’m immune to his powers or whatever, so he can use that against us later. Also, he said some weird ass stuff about being God. Probably just one big, weird psych-out.
Nikki: What the hell are you supposed to be?
Umbra: A customer. How odd… You seem to be resisting my paralysis spell.
Nikki: Paralysis? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re that Hatman loser?
Umbra: Hatman? Yes, I suppose I have heard that name before. And you… yes, I know you. My associate killed your boyfriend, didn’t he?
Nikki: Ex. What do you creeps want anyway?
Umbra: For your little Cafe to back off. I know you are seeking the Mysterious Stranger. Cease now.
Nikki: No.
Umbra: No? Do you really think it’s that simple, then?
Nikki: Yeah, why not? What’s little priest-y Satan gonna do if we don’t?
Umbra: This is not a warning from Satan. This is a warning—no—threat—from me. The Mysterious Strange is not to be trusted. None of its ilks are. Tell me, [Nikki], what would you give to be God?
Nikki: God?
Umbra: Master and maker of the universe. You know, I’ve heard there’s a vacancy. And me? I would do anything to fill it. I have nothing left to lose, after all. No one can stop me from rewriting Fate. Especially not the likes of your pathetic little coffee shop. Xavier? That’s what Satan will do to reach his goals. You don’t want to see what I will do to reach mine.
Nikki: You don’t scare me.
Umbra: Not yet.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: MID NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-41
The surprises never seem to cease. Last night the Mysterious Stranger, along with an emissary of Belphegor, paid me a visit. Though I should probably keep this conversation entirely to myself, I did have the CaDCom record it, and I'm glad I did. The Stranger has revealed an unforeseen wrinkle in my plans, something called the Anathema Proxy. Unfortunately, our conversation got cut short by a rather massive tremor. I would say it was a coincidence, but I know better than that. It was no coincidence but a Pleasant surprise.
The Owner: I was wondering when you'd drop by.
The Stranger: So, you were expecting me?
The Owner: In a sense, though, I see you've brought a guest.
Solomon: Eight, I presume?
The Owner: So, she told you everything?
Solomon: I doubt it. I know about the rewinding and the bargain you made, but I'm sure she has kept some of the details to herself.
The Owner: I wouldn't take it personally; it is her nature, after all. So, Mr. Twain, you've allied yourself with the Ouroboros?
The Stranger: Not quite.
The Owner: So, you're still working for Satan, then?
The Stranger: I owe no loyalty to any Prince. I aid Satan due to his pursuit.
The Owner: To open the Gates of Hell, unleash his father, and destroy the Universe again?
The Stranger: Well… The Universe does not have to end.
The Owner: Really? Do you really believe that? Do you expect an Archon like the Devil to just let this Universe exist as it is?
The Stranger: I believe he can be swayed. He has been before.
The Owner: So that's your true goal, then?
The Stranger: Do you think it is possible? You have seen the Universe in its entirety. You have even had a hand in its recreation.
The Owner: It shouldn't be possible...
Solomon: ...but...
The Owner: ...but there are imperfections.
Solomon: Belphegor is good, but she is not perfect.
The Owner: There is a slight dilation of two years, but otherwise, things are proceeding how they should. Satan has formed a Dark contract with the Hatman, Mothman, and Redman. They'll attempt to open the Gates to Hell but fail when Lucifer kills Satan.
Solomon: Then what?
The Owner: Do you really want to know the future, Solomon?
Solomon: Belphegor has already told me what transpired in the past and what would be our future. Lucifer kills Satan, then picks up where he left off.
The Owner: This time will be different.
Solomon: Are you planning on surviving?
The Owner: …no. But this time will be different. I can—
The Stranger: Satan has found another way.
The Owner: What?
Solomon: That's the problem with treating the past as the future. Two years, Eight, a lot can change.
The Owner: What do you mean another way?
The Stranger: He plans to utilize the Anathema Proxy—
The Owner: Gah—!
Solomon: Agh! —No… it can't be…
BARISTA: SAHIR BALI
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-42
An “Anathema Proxy,” hm? That is indeed likely an important connection. Good job, Nick and Nikki. I did do the due diligence to confirm what Nick and Nikki were being told. My sources have indicated that Agent Racecar spoke to the twins and one of the Zulu Agents. Racecar is a fairly reliable source of information, and he was seen talking to many of the visitors to the Lighthouse yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in charge of relaying information, though why they wouldn’t delegate that to Victor, Whiskey, or Yankee is beyond me.
As for the Zulu Agent, I know exactly who they are. For the sake of Zulu secrecy, which they do love so much, I won’t name them here. Though I can only imagine it was no coincidence or a slip of the tongue that this Zulu Agent dropped such a helpful piece of information to two Cafe and Diner members. I think it’s fair to say if a Zulu said it, they had permission to do so. In fact, Shaka probably wanted this information to get out. For better or for worse. Though the genie is out of the bottle, and there’s no putting it back in now, so what exactly is the Anathema Proxy?
The only thing close to an “Anathema Proxy” I could find was a very small hidden clause in the Otherside Soul Accord. The Soul Accord is the major agreement of governance between the seven Princes of Hell. Should all seven Princes be unable to carry out their duties in the Otherside, their duties can be taken up by a proxy or regent. Nothing strange about that. Though looking a little deeper… “should no appropriate Demon in plena sin act as proxy, any mortal Anathema can be chosen to act in full simulacrum with all rights and powers of their Plane.” A strange clause, to be sure. Unfortunately, at least in the version of the Soul Accord I was reading, “Anathema” is not defined. Though, assuming I understand it correctly, whatever this mortal Anathema is, they would be granted the full simulacrum of their Plane, Key to Hell included.
BARISTA: JENNI HEPBURN
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-43
I think I saw… the future? A future? I hope not our only future. The good news is, I’m not dead. The bad news is I had a vision of the future. I saw Padre—Satan—standing in front of a massive twisted ebony gate, and behind him were seven blazing eyes of fire. They were, I think, the Keys to the Gates of Hell. A red eye, an orange eye, a yellow eye, a green eye, a blue eye, an pink eye, and a purple eye. As each eye opened, the massive gate shuddered and shook. And then there was a blinding white light, and the vision was over.
I think, having drank Hermes’ serum, I can see the future now? I don’t know how I did it, and maybe I won’t be able to do it again. What happened was I drank the serum, and I immediately felt very faint and lightheaded. Then I had the vision, and it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like déjà vu… or… no… jamais vu? It felt real. And then I, uh, woke up to Nikki… uh… kissing me. She says that she was doing CPR, but I don’t buy that. Still, it was a lovely way to return to the present.
Besides the prophetic vision, I feel mostly the same. When I use my planchette now, it takes significantly less focus to see into the Otherside. Not only that, but I can also sort of see past each Plane of the Otherside. It’s hard to explain, but, for example, if I’m looking into the Otherside and I see the Morningstar, I can almost look past it to see the same spot in the Infernus or the Hauntaurskald. Each plane I look through weakens it, but I can now see the same spot in every plane at once. I’m sure I’ve got some other new tricks up my sleeve, but Hermes didn’t exactly leave me with an instruction manual or anything.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-44
While we've been off chasing goats, worms, and oddly shaped children, Padre's been an awfully busy priest. I know I've been, well, distant, perhaps. I assure you all that it was for a good reason—I've been closely monitoring our clerical friend and his Open Doors Church. As I hinted yesterday, Padre Santos seems to have been stirring up a renewed vigor in the classic "Satanic Panic" of the 80s. Of course, such panics are nothing new, historically speaking, though what Padre Santos has manufactured is most closely related to the so-called "moral majority" of the 80s. Which is to say, he's got a lot of stay-at-home-super-moms up in arms over board games and death metal.
I don't think I need to point out the clear and almost painful irony in Padre Santos' lobbying claims of Satanic influence over his parish. Though, I couldn't figure out why he was drawing so much attention to the occult forces. That was until Nick discovered the "Anathema Proxy." Let's call it a tax loophole that lets Padre sell his coffee tax-free, though he can only do so if his followers are perfectly free from sin or... vice or... versa. How the IRS judges whether or not someone is "sin free" is beyond me. Truly, I don't know how that would hold up in Court. Though I suppose that's not our worry, is it?
Our worry should be stopping Padre Santos' Satanic Panic. The root of which would appear to be the mother-lead group calling themselves "SATAN S.U.C.K.S.S.," which I believe is an acronym for Stopping Unholy Cults to Keep Society Safe. Or maybe it was to Keep Society Satan-free. Though, if that's the case, it would be a bit of a hat on a hat, no? To be entirely honest, I have been paying very little attention to the cutesier creative details at the weekly meetings—ah, yes, I probably should have mentioned, I've been posing as a concerned father myself at these meetings to garner more intel. For what it's worth, I've managed to rack up quite the Rolodex of single mothers' numbers. I'll have Sahir run them for any interesting connections. If anything, I believe we can all agree that Satan does indeed suck.
BARISTA: SALENNA WHITAKER
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-45
I, for one, think it’s gross that the Owner is flirting with single parents. I get needing to “infiltrate” the SATAN S.U.C.K.S.S. moms—and three dads—but I don’t know why he thought putting his French charms on as many of them as he possibly could be a good idea. So now he has to duck and dodge multiple single parents, and it’s only made his reclusively worse. If you ask me, it’s more coping with the Lucy situation. Regardless it’s annoying that I need to run his groceries because “Tammy” and “Salvador” both shop at the same store.
At least his paranoia wasn’t unfounded—this time. I did see both Salvador and Tammy shopping today. I would be more concerned about how the Owner knows their schedules so well, but I’ve also seen a glimpse of his string board for each member of SATAN S.U.C.K.S.S. If he is anything, it is meticulous. I wasn’t able to gleam too much from my eavesdropping. Most of what they were talking about seemed to be about who the Owner was more serious about. I also had the deep displeasure of hearing Tammy suggest a “ménage à trois.” Yikes.
Of course, I wouldn’t make a receipt if all I heard were the gross details of these sad, sad middle-aged parents. No, Salvador and Tammy also were discussing the leadership of the cult—ah, sorry, committee. They never explicitly said the actual leader’s name, and, based on the Owner’s stringboard, he doesn’t know who it is either. They mentioned that some lady named Jan and another lady named Linda have become her eyes and ears and have started kicking people out of the organization who weren’t “worthy.” Apparently, it’s gotten pretty ugly. Salvador even mentioned secret loyalty tests, and Tammy said she heard they were closer to that of an inquisition.
BARISTA: NIKKI LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-46
Ughhhhh. Great. Just fantastic. You know what? Satan really does suck. You know how the whole “Anti-Satan Seminar” bullcrap was opt-out? Yeah, after our principal’s near-death experience, it’s no longer opt-out and no longer just a Wednesday thing. It’s not a part of every freaking homeroom period. Yippee. Apparently, when our principal was out driving last weekend, a horrifying, red-eyed demonic creature followed him and ran him into a ditch, and then he had a “revelation” that Satan and his followers were among us, and he needed to protect the children of his school.
Trust me, the dramatic irony is not lost on me, but wow. This is what Red was putting up with? It’s just on and on about how Satan is everywhere and in everything, and all media ever is actually Satan trying to lead us all astray. This is the WORST. This is even worse than the weirdly short winter break we had this year. It was like, what, two weeks? A week and a half? I swear, the school district will be hearing from me. This is egregious.
Oh, yeah. Also, we have a guest speaker coming next Friday. It’s apparently going to be the head of the SATAN S.U.C.K.S.S. committee. She has a “very enlightening” presentation prepared for us so we can also see and share our principal’s vision of imminent demise at the hands of unseen Satanic forces. We will NOT be attending that assembly. Why? Because we are little rapscallions who love cutting class. No. It’s because I’m almost positive this guest speaker is actually Mothman. It’d make sense if she was actually the one running this whole show, right? And if it isn’t her? I don’t feel like sitting through any more of this propaganda.
BARISTA: SALENNA WHITAKER
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-47
That wasn’t Mothman.
I’m not sure who or what she was. Whatever she was—wasn’t human. However, I finally have the name for your shut-in stringboard: Abigail Hawthorne, the head of the Satan S.U.C.K.S.S. committee. She was joined by Jan Galloway and Linda Parris, her eyes and ears. Jan and Linda are, to my knowledge, humans, though I see why Jenni has such a distaste for Jan. They’re a very preachy and screechy lot. Altogether they are their own sort of hellish Dark Triad. Or a WASP Triad, I suppose.
Apparently, this was Abigail’s first public appearance since the formation of the Satan S.U.C.K.S.S. committee. She fully intended to stay out of the limelight for fear of undue Satanic spells and hexes thrown at her in retaliation for her work. But after the principal and cheerleader accidents, she felt she had no choice but to make her presence known. I tried to get a Blood reading on Abigail to see if she is Hauntaurskaldian or not, but all I got was “ERROR.” Which, yes, could mean she’s just a human. Or it could mean she’s masking her demonic nature somehow.
The assembly wrapped up with a promise from Abigail that she will draw all of the demonic forces out of Long Beach and, if need be, will burn all heretics who stand in her way. She plans to place deacons in the schools to ensure no demonic forces are overtaking the souls of the innocents. Of course, the deacons are from the Open Doors Church—and I don’t need a Blood reading to tell you that they are undoubtedly Hauntaurskaldian demons. I think the most concerning part of the entire assembly was when she started listing off what would be banned on school grounds. Of course, there was a lot of the usual—heavy makeup, salacious music, corrupting games, but also caffeine. Coffee specifically. Which she said while looking directly at Jenni, Nick, and Nikki.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-48
Abigail Hawthorne. Interesting. Well, no wonder I haven’t been able to add her to my investigation—no references of her exist. Anywhere. Furthermore, I’ve never once heard her name. That might be trouble… Sahir has been in an absolute frenzy attempting to dig up something, anything, on Hawthorne, but he hasn’t had any luck yet. If she is truly unknown between the two of us, that could prove to be rather dangerous. Though I concur with Jenni’s sentiment, we should start being more proactive in protecting Wilson High from the Church’s brand of overly pious mud water.
Well—in any case, another month has come to an end. It has been a month of half-success after half-success. The mysterious disasters which plagued Long Beach’s vehicles ended, but only because Mothman got what she wanted from them. We were able to stabilize the strange weather phenomenon, but we were unable to prevent losing Mr. Tormenta’s business permanently. We rescued a group of our patrons out in the Big Sky Country, but Mrs. Williams was served ahead of us by Mrs. Middletown. And we uncovered a potential plot of the Church in the San Pedro Mountains, but we were unable to stop them.
…Well, we can’t win them all, but it would certainly be nice to win one or two, wouldn’t it? But don’t be too hard on yourselves. Half-successes tend to add up to full-successes sooner or later. As for the coming month, it’s clear we need to get to the bottom of the strange tremors still shaking Long Beach since Miss. Andrew’s service. Apparently, Salenna’s sensors have already picked up an epicenter of sorts we can check out near the Long Beach Pyramid. Additionally, we need to discover who Abigail Hawthorne is and why she is doing the bidding of Padre Santos and his Dark Triad. Hopefully, we can snuff out this silly Satanic Panic sooner rather than later.
Rule #12,
Rule #7
BARISTA: SAHIR BALI
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-49
WHO THE HELL IS ABIGAIL HAWTHORNE?
I have searched through every contact and every connection I have. NOTHING! It is like she does not exist. She can’t exist, not a human. There are no human records of her anywhere. I have even extended my search to the Somerton Files, the Records of the Dead, the Neo-Library of Alexandria, and all possible Indigo Organizations. She does not exist. She is not and never has been a human.
But then… What the hell is she? It is admittedly more challenging to uncover the identities of Demons—IF SHE WAS A DEMON. She is not. Multiple Blood Readings taken by Salenna and myself indicate that she is a human. A HUMAN. SHE CANNOT BE. THERE IS NO RECORD OF HER ANYWHERE. Even if she was not a human nor demon, angels and elders have Blood signatures.
Cafe No Diner.
They know. They have to know. How do they know, and I don’t?! There is no one I do not know. NO ONE. But they call her “Abby.” Abby. Abby. ABBY! Such familiarity. They not only know her but have given her a damned nickname. I will admit… I have done some other research, not into Abigail but this fraudulent Cafe No Diner. They think they’re so clever. So smart. So well hidden. Well… I know where they keep their files. Wouldn’t it be such a shame if all of their hard work went up in smoke? And why not? Why shouldn’t I have the connections they’ve made? They haven’t earned them. I have.
No. I shouldn’t.
But… something must be done.
BARISTA: SAHIR BALI
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-50
I could not stop myself. I had to have the connections they had made. I don’t know what came over me, but once that fire was in my head, I could not stop. I burned it all to the ground. The Church has been clamoring for a cleansing fire, and I provided it for them. I fear… I fear that I have played directly into their plans. Thankfully I did not hurt anyone but myself in doing so.
Well, I suppose losing all of their records, files, cases, and reports will be a setback for the Brummagem Cafe, but none of their five members were there when I lit the match. And so, I pray, no mortal harm was done. And, of course, I devoured every word they had written prior to turning it all to ash. I didn’t bother copying any of their information as it was all extremely surface-level. We—no, I—had made them out to be much more dangerous than they seemed. They hardly understand the fundamentals of the Otherside. They still believe the Hauntaurskald to be the only Plane. So, they are still quite far from unraveling any major conspiracies or making any miraculous connections we have yet to make ourselves.
Except one.
The one that drove me to such madness, to such unabashed and unbearable envy. Abigail Hawthorne. If the Cafe No Diner is correct, and I believe they are in this matter, Abigail Hawthorne is the human daughter of Satan. In hindsight, it was obvious, but it was a connection only an amateur could have made. We know that the Princes of Hell would never risk their power to have a half-demon child… but then… that is exactly what she is.
I’ve done my best to cover my tracks in this shameful matter, but I cannot guarantee that there will be no traces of our brand of coffee at the scene. I can only hope that I have not made another friend for the Cafe and Diner.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-51
A Cambion? Abigail Hawthorne is the human daughter of Satan… A half-demon. That… well, I suppose it isn’t impossible. Though conception between a human and a demon is exceptionally rare. Of the handful of half-demons out there, the term typically implies humans who have gained some form of demonic power—but not through heredity. And the child of a human and a Prince of Hell? That’s… almost unheard of. Cosmically so. Due to the nature of the Princes’ direct lineage to the Devil, it would take a miracle for a human to have a child with a Prince of Hell. It just… It doesn’t work like that. Moreover, and more pressingly, Abigail is new.
In the previous Universe, the 15th Sphere, Satan never had a child with a human. I suppose he could’ve, but he never used her in his schemes to release his father. Then again, I suppose Satan also never attempted to utilize the Anathema Proxy Clause in the prior Sphere either. Well, that can’t be entirely true. Among the infinite Cycles of the last Universe, some version of Satan had to have tried to use the Anathema Proxy… but, based on my admittedly fading knowledge of all that ever was—it was never successful. It never even registered a blip in the cosmic consciousness. No… his former plan of unsealing the hidden chapter of the Codex Gigas was a solid plan. Why hasn’t he tried that yet?
I suppose it could be my meddling that’s to blame. Upon rewinding the Universe, I ensured that the Codex Gigas would not fall into Satan’s hands so easily. Perhaps knowing that he couldn’t use the Codex Gigas, he had to formulate a new plan. Then again, we are experiencing a time dilation that could alter when Satan’s plans lead toward the Codex. But I fear that he is going all in with his sinful loophole. I should have just left things alone. I knew how to stop the Codex Gigas but this Anathema Proxy… je suis aveugle.
And now… Sahir. I saw it in his eyes. They were glowing a sinful saffron. I fear it is too late to reverse the—what’s this?
Damn it all!
BARISTA: NIKKI LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-52
…
Nikki: We beat your game, Redman. Where’s Jenni?
The Redman: So you did. And with a day to spare. Congratulations.
[The Redman snapped his fingers, and Employee Jenni appeared in a plume of red smoke.]
Jenni: Nikki!
Nikki: It’s okay! It’s okay. We’re going to get you out of here, Jenni.
Abigail: You’re losing your touch, Red. I was really looking forward to burning this brat.
Augustine: It doesn’t matter. We got what we needed from the Augur.
The Redman: Exactly. And I wouldn’t want to attract any undue attention.
The Owner: Is that so?
The Redman: [The Owner]? I wasn’t expecting to draw you out with this little game. No harm was meant, of course. Your precious employee was never in any real danger.
The Owner: So that’s how you’ve been getting away with it. You can play your games so long as you don’t kill anyone.
Nikki: But Xavier...
The Redman: He was killed outside of a game, I’m afraid. A fiendish loophole, I must admit. Demons are hardly sanctioned from killing humans. But if you are trying to bring me before the Court of Angels, you really don’t have a case—
The Owner: No, we don’t. I didn’t expect we would. You’ve spent thousands of years perfecting your terms. But… you know riddles aren’t actually your domain, Redman.
The Redman: You didn’t.
The Owner: Oh, I did. Or, well, I had Felix start the process.
The Redman: Are you mad?! Do you have any idea of the chaos he’ll bring? He could ruin everything!
The Owner: If you’re so eager to play games, Rubeus, you might as well play a real one with some real stakes. And if Satan’s plans can be so easily derailed…
The Redman: When?
The Owner: When what?
The Redman: When is he coming?
The Owner: Well, I imagine he must find a suitable prize first. Then the contracts need to be signed. Then the real games can start.
The Redman: We need to go.
Augustine: What is—
The Redman: NOW. We won’t have much time to prepare.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-53
I just got word, and it seems like things will be starting sooner rather than later. As I mentioned last week, I acted on emotion rather than reason. I wanted to regain some control, and I felt the best way to do so would be to introduce a healthy dose of chaos. The Open Doors Church has been manipulating things far too easily lately, and win or lose, this will certainly throw a wrench in their well-laid plans. Of course, I can’t understate how important winning is.
Complexico, the Gameshow Host, brings a strange assortment of quasi-riddles he calls “Complexities.” The first to solve them all wins a prize. Complexico’s prizes are often known to tip the scales one way or the other. I’m hoping that it’s something nice, but not too nice, if we end up losing. Complexico has only been released from his Cancellation Clause for around a week, so I can’t imagine the prize he’s found can be all that good. Still, we can’t take this game lightly. Also, by the by, you have to play. There’s no saying no to Complexico once he starts a game. That’s a certain way to end up dead.
But have fun! It is a game show, after all, if a bit of a strange one. While Complexico should never, ever, ever be trusted, he is… affable… underneath his oversized question mark mascot head. I wouldn’t have brought him back if he wouldn’t be useful to us. I’ve played his games before, though I doubt my past experience will be of any help. His “complexities” don’t exactly follow any conventional logic, though he’s good at making them seem like they do. Also, sorry we have to solve more riddles so soon after our last bout of life-or-death trivia.
Yours to buzz in,
Leyland’s First
BARISTA: N/A
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-54
It is so wonderful to be back on the air. You know, those murders that got me canceled the first time, that’s all water under the bridge now. It’s really their fault if you think about it. They played the game too well for their own good. Thankfully, I doubt I’ll have another set of contestants quite like them again. And if I do? Well, I think this time they’ll have the common sense to BUZZ IN when they know. Speaking of… it seems like you’ve buzzed in yourself. I was hoping you would. No. I knew you would. You’re drawn to these types of games, Otherman. We’re cut from the same cloth, after all.
Now that I’m back, I believe it’s time to indulge in some rather ill-intents, don’t you think? It seems only correcto to pick up where I last left off. Where WE last left off. I wasn’t fully expecting there to be a whole new Universe when I got back, but thems the breaks, eh, kid? And what a mess of a Universe it is, too. No offense, Otherman, assuming you had something to do with its design. Did you happen to notice that extra bit off at the end of it? That can’t be right, can it? Unless it’s part of your plan? Or maybe it’s part of his plan. Or maybe it’s part of His plan. Still, sloppy work. If I were to create a new dimension, I wouldn’t have just copied existing mythology.
Not to mention what a mess this must make for quasi-historical-mythological figures. What, are there two of them now? Well, here’s to the hope that canonization fixes things up on the next go-around. Though, I suppose there won’t be another go-around without the big holy Bird, right? Well, clearly, you don’t need Bird to rewind things yourself. But then, I have to wonder, Otherman. How many times would you rewind things to get things right? Mm… dangerous game rewinding things over and over, I’m sure you’re well aware. Canonization is a double-edged sword. Things go up that should go down tend to get cut, even when you really wish they wouldn’t. Though, if you don’t even know about them, what’s the harm, right?
Well—I’ve got new prizes to collect and other Cycles to host in. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, Otherman. We always do.
-Complexico
BARISTA: JENNI HEPBURN
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-55
Ugh. This being grounded forever thing really sucks. I missed the weird cosmic horror gameshow, and I can’t help out with the Augustine stuff even though I was the one kidnapped by him. Well, he was kidnapped by the Redman and Hatman. Augustine was just sort of there, and he wanted something from inside me… but what? It can’t be whatever the Mysterious Stranger left inside my mind because Umbra already stole that. I guess… maybe it could be related to that? I don’t know. I’m sick of people sticking things inside my mind for later.
I guess that’s something weird, right? That people keep leaving things of value inside my subconscious. Does that keep happening because I’m an “Augur” or whatever? Or is there something special about my subconscious that makes it so… “hospitable” to weird esoteric secrets? I bet Mr. Three would know. I wonder if we could call him somehow. Though it seems like he comes and goes as he pleases. Maybe I could start trying to find these answers myself through meditation or lucid dreaming or something. Not like I have much else I can do while stuck in my room.
I have been messing around with my second sight a bit. It at least gives me something more interesting to look at, and it’s more mentally stimulating than my homework. I’ve noticed something weird about my room—or, well, where my room is in the Otherside. The other rooms in my house are what you’d expect, with various shifting places in the Otherside. Right now, the boundary lines have my house in Esterskald, if the foliage is anything to go by. But my room, in particular, is always in the same spot. It doesn’t shift. It’s just a sort of grassy field with dandelions. I wonder why my room doesn’t… move. I guess that’s something I could investigate while on house arrest, at least.
BARISTA: NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-56
I snuck into Jenni’s room with the Veil of Cassandra to test out my theory. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have worked. You can check the transcript to see what the veil had her say. It’s basically nonsense. It’s possible that it can’t see the truth in memories. Oh well, it was worth a shot. At the very least, it seems like the CaDCom was able to transcribe what Jenni said without any reality tampering, as that’s what she said to me in person. At least, I think so, anyway.
Nick: Are you ready?
Jenni: …yeah, I think so. Is it going to hurt?
Nick: I’m… not sure.
Jenni: Well, what’s the worst a piece of tulle can do to me?
Nick: Organza.
Jenni: Bless you.
Nick: Ha-ha. Seriously though, if you don’t want to put it on—
Jenni: No. I want to. I want to know what they took from me. And more importantly, I want to feel like I’m doing something, anything, to help out. Plus, I think you’re right. If my perception of the truth gets altered, so what? I don’t even know what the truth is, to begin with.
Nick: Only if you’re sure.
[Jenni placed the Veil of Cassandra over her eyes.]
Nick: Make sure you don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to warp your total perception of reality.
Jenni: Got it. Now what?
Nick: Try to recall what happened when the Redman kidnapped you.
Jenni: Mm… I don’t—no, wait, I do remember. Umbra, ugh, he put me to sleep, and then he… possessed Augustine. Then shadows dripped out of his fingers… into my eyes.
Nick: Gross.
Jenni: Yeah. It felt cold, and I could feel it numbing my mind.
Nick: Can you remember why?
Jenni: Looking for a link. Graveyard. Memories of the past. Hermes Trismegistus. Madeline Saturn.
Nick: The former #35? What do they want—
Jenni: They want… to bring her back from the dead. They want an Augur of their own under their complete control, one who has been blessed by Hermes. Like me.
Nick: And the mummies?
Jenni: —Can be used to bring back the dead.
Nick: I… think that’s enough you can take off the veil.
[Jenni took off the Veil of Cassandra]
Jenni: Did it work?
Nick: I don’t think so. Everything you said was total nonsense.
Jenni: Damn. Maybe it’s just a… gag? Like the Emperor’s Robes?
Nick: Yeah, that could be. It sure seems like the kind of thing Complexico would give as a prize.
BARISTA: SAHIR BALI
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-57
Resurrecting Madeline Saturn? That’s impossible. For more reasons than I can probably list here. Off the top of my head? There’s no body. The graveyard the Owner set up in the back is symbolic—not literal. The tombstones are just there to act as solemn reminders to sip—not chug—the coffee we brew. Symbolic monuments aside—there were quite literally no bodies left. Now, I can’t claim to know much about the forbidden art of Necromancy, but I would guess a body is needed. Necromancy, after all, is the process of undoing the nature of the Otherside. You can’t jam your demonic soul into just any old vessel—you would need your original body to do so.
Well, we now know the limitations of the veil, I suppose. As for my efforts, I managed to get a hold of “the Dobermann” Solomon Langley through some rather obscure connections. The trouble with getting in touch with a witch of Belphegor is that they tend to spend their time in the Ouroboros, a plane that is famously cut off from all others. As luck would have it, Solomon Langley was stateside, so I was able to have a small sit down with him. However, he kept his cards rather close to his chest in regard to the actual Sableification process. I suppose I can’t blame him, as it has caused enough turmoil in his family already.
I gleaned from him that Umbra and The Redman are either faking Augustine’s Sableification or Umbra is a greater threat than we originally believed. To initiate the process of Sableification, one needs a very rare, very illegal substance. Illegal in the eyes of the Court of Angels, mind you. Universally prohibited. It is also a very time-sensitive substance. At most, it can stay fresh for two months. That is to say, Umbra couldn’t have had a stockpile of it if he used it to turn Augustine into a shadow. He would’ve had to have had some way of getting more. Solomon expressed to me the steep price he paid to get his hands on some years ago—a price Umbra likely couldn’t pay more than once. So, Occam’s Razor: they are faking it. Somehow. I suppose that is the next thread to pull at.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-58
Well, that is a problem, isn't it? Jenni's parents, Sean and Hazel, have been… possessed? Cursed? Infected? I'm not sure what the proper term is. With my Blighted Eye, the truth was clearer than Cassandra's Veil. Under the surface, they have crimson-red eyes. The work of the Redman, I assume. It is his calling card of sorts. However, Sean and Hazel's pre-affliction does not strike me as the type to play the Redman's game. That, and he really shouldn't be playing his game while under Umbra's control, but that never seems to stop him, does it?
Without knowing exactly how he's pulled this off, I'm afraid there isn't much I can do. Not yet, anyway. The "good" news is that I am inclined to believe them, even if they are under the Redman's control—they want to keep Jenni "safe." At the very least, out of harm's way. They still need her for something. Madeline's resurrection? Perhaps. Though, I can't help but suspect it's something else. Well, but if it was that… no. There are nine of us. Even if the unthinkable were to happen to Jenni, they'd still have a spare. Unless they've planned this out to the detail. Hm.
Oh, don't mind me. Thinking out loud, as it were. I should move to a more secure channel so I can truly work this conundrum out without fear of mucking things up. The little things aside, it's clear we need to do something to save Jenni's parents. It'll kill two problems with one stone: they'll be free of the Redman's influence, and I assume they'll go back to their laissez-faire parent-child relationship with Jenni, freeing her up for further Cafe business. If it wasn't already abundantly clear, Jenni is an extremely important member of the Cafe and Diner, and we will do whatever it takes to protect her employment with us.
BARISTA: FELIX BLACKWOOD
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY APRIL
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-59
I was able to get in touch with Shaka of Zulu after all. I figured there had to be a reason he had yet to deal with me, as Zulu typically doesn’t take well to defectors. Thankfully, I was right. Moreover, my instincts appear to have been correct as Shaka gifted us with a floppy disk containing something to do with the Cafe No Diner. What is on that floppy? I couldn’t say. I haven’t been able to even get the disk into our system as it has been warped by heat. I am hoping Salenna will know what to do with it in this miserable state.
Felix: I wasn’t sure you’d come, cher ami.
Shaka: Felix, I told you, you’d always have my ear. My heart. My bones and blood. Even if you decided they weren’t for you. It takes quite some courage to face death like this, so I assume the situation is dire.
Felix: It is. Eh, and it isn’t. There is a new Cafe in town.
Shaka: The Cafe No Diner. Yes. How interesting. You would risk your immediate termination over a group of no-names?
Felix: Ah—but I wouldn’t, would I?
Shaka: Heh. I was hoping it’d be different this time, you know?
Felix: Oh?
Shaka: Fate. Always Fate. Though I’m not sure which is stronger? Fate—or the Other?
Felix: That is why you have yet to kill me, isn’t it? I left, not entirely of my own accord.
Shaka: Or maybe I just like you, Felix. You remind me of… me. Or, perhaps, who I wanted to be. Though, I will admit to what is hardly a secret—you were always going to betray the Zulus. You didn’t even have a choice this time around. I could not stop it, nor should I have. Without you, well, there might not be a Cafe, after all. And then what would I do? No Cafe certainly would put a damper on my plans.
Felix: So, no hard feelings then?
Shaka: I’m far too old for hard feelings, let alone feelings at all. Here.
[Shaka of Zulu tossed Felix a floppy disk]
Shaka: I’m surprised it survived the fire. Oh, well, you’d be surprised how many things tend to survive fires. Stay out of trouble, Felix.
Felix: Thank you, Shaka.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE APRIL
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-60
This Cafe No Diner may be more of a problem than I anticipated. It doesn’t help that they are entirely unaccounted for variables. I knew that the course of Fate would change things… Fate would be foolish not to. But to add five new players? It’s almost like Fate doesn’t want me to kill Satan after all. To be fair, I don’t want to, either. Adding a Key to the Gates of Hell into the mix would make things unnecessarily messy. No, if we are to kill Fate, we need to keep all seven Princes alive—even Mammon. Ah. That’s it, isn’t it?
Fate and I think far too alike.
That’s the whole point of this Cafe No Diner. A backup in case we don’t go through with killing Satan. Killing Satan—killing any of the Seven Princes—would set off a chain of events that would ultimately unleash the Devil. And if the Devil breaks free, the Universe will be rewound again. A fresh Universe would be ideal for Fate as it removes all of my advantages against it.
Of course, Satan has the same aim: to unleash his father, the Devil. Except, with God still missing, a rewind so early would be pointless, at least in the eyes of Fate. I suppose there’s a chance I wouldn’t maintain my advantage in another rewinding, but it’s a risk Fate wouldn’t take. Satan, however, has found a loophole to speed up the whole “unleashing his hellish Father” thing. The Anathema Proxy clause. A fiendish little loophole in the Soul Accord that boils down to creating human versions of the Keys to the Gates of Hell. And he’s already successfully turned Sahir into a living embodiment of Sorrow.
I can only assume Satan intends to turn each of the Cafe and Diner into Anathemas. There is still something of the process I am missing. But whatever that missing factor is, it likely would explain why Satan has chosen the Cafe and Diner to be his Anathemas and why he can’t let any of us die prematurely. Though there are nine of us. One to spare, assuming he needs Anathema for the deadliest of sins as well. Regardless, between the machinations of Fate and Satan, we are in for a rather precarious and intricate dance.
The Deadliest of Sins Himself,
O
BARISTA: NIKKI LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE MAY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-61
OKAY—THAT’S ENOUGH OF THIS STUPID ASS RED RAIN… ENOUGH OF THIS STUPID ASS REDMAN!
I am sick TO DEATH of this stupid loser, Boogieman of Satan. He has killed, KILLED, people I care about. He has kidnapped, KIDNAPPED, my girlfriend. HE BLOODSHOT HER PARENTS! Sure, I’m no fan of the Hatman rummaging around Red’s head, but at least that wasn’t as personal. Ever since the Redman KILLED Xavier, I’ve been dreaming of the day we put an end to him. But after all this recent crap he’s been pulling? It’s all I can think about.
And now my girlfriend is having non-stop dreams about him! How messed up is that? How sick? He’s worming his way into her every thought, too. Night after night, she has to endure visions of him tricking human after human, letting them think they’ve won, stalking them from the shadows, making their eyes bleed and their blood boil, before finally killing them off. It’s not even that his questions are hard, he just, he just, he just words them in stupid ways!! That, or he assumes all humans are totally clueless about the Otherside. Well, I’m not.
I’ve been talking with Sofia, and she told me how to play his stupid little game. How to summon him at my beck and call. Maybe I could call him out and just end him then and there. I’ve been reading up on how to kill demons; between my parents’ library and Felix’s tomes, I’ve got more than enough ideas. But… just killing him… that’s not enough. That’s not fun. I want him to suffer. I want him to lose. I want to be the one to beat his pathetic little game of trick questions. I want it.
And no one is going to stop me from getting what I desire.
No one.
BARISTA: NIKKI LANGLEY
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: LATE MAY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-62
…
[Nikki, surrounded by thirteen red candles, with a mirror in her hand and a red paper doll with her name on half, and the Redman’s name on the other, began to chant.]
Nikki: Rubeus Redman, please come, please come, I will not leave until you come. Rubeus Redman, please come, please come, I will not leave until you come. Rubeus Redman, please come, please come, I will not leave until—
[The mirror in Nikki’s hands cracked, and from a plume of red smoke, the Redman appeared, hovering before her.]
The Redman: My, my, my, if it isn’t Nicole Langley. I couldn’t refuse a call from you, could I? If I didn’t know better, I would think this was some sort of trap set by your employer. Yet… I don’t sense him here. Nor do I sense any of your little friends.
Nikki: I want to play your game, Redman.
The Redman: Mmm… what for? A sweet sixteenth present?
Nikki: How did you—
The Redman: Come now, Nicole. You should know by now. I know so, so many things. A birthday is trivial. Besides—they’re waiting for you at the Cafe. Your brother and your girlfriend. You probably had plans tonight, right? I wouldn’t waste them in some dark bathroom in the middle of nowhere conversing with demons. I’ll let you in on a little secret of mine, you can blow out the thirteenth candle, the one behind you, to end the game.
Nikki: I want to play.
The Redman: And what if I don’t? That candle trick, either of us can use it, you know.
[The Redman floated to the ground, then circled around Nikki, picking up the thirteenth candle. Nikki spun around to face him.]
Nikki: Stop! I WANT to play.
The Redman: Look, Satan wouldn’t be thrilled that I’m playing games with a member of the Cafe and Diner without his consent. Likewise, I can’t imagine the Owner of the Cafe would appreciate you going behind his back like this—
Nikki: So, what, you’re scared? Seriously? I went through all this trouble to summon you. I want to play, so play me.
The Redman: If you insist.
[The Redman snapped his fingers and disappeared and reappeared back at the front of the candle circle, paper doll in hand. In his grip the doll began to burn.]
The Redman: What is Indrid Cold’s true name?
Nikki: I- uh- it’s…
[Counter-clockwise, the candles in the circle began to go out as the fire consumed half of the paper doll with Nikki’s name on it.]
Nikki: It’s… it… his true name? It’s… It’s Fate. Indrid Cold is Fate.
[The coquelicot flames burning the paper doll slowed to a smolder.]
The Redman: Ah… Your turn.
Nikki: Are you ready to die?
[Nikki unsheathed an obsidian dagger etched with powerful runes hidden in her shoe, lunging at the Redman. Before she could make contact with him, he rolled his eyes and clenched his fist, dragging Nikki to the ground by her eye.]
The Redman: Tsk, tsk, tsk. That ruins the fun, doesn’t it? You weren’t supposed to try and kill me. Oh well.
Nikki: AGH!! MAKE IT STOP!!
The Redman: Hm? Oh—the eye thing. Right.
[The Redman clenched his fist harder, causing a spray of blood to shoot out of Nikki’s eye before he softened his grip. After Nikki caught her breath, the Redman twirled his fingers, lifting Nikki up telepathically by her eye to examine his work. Nikki’s iris was now a deep, sanguine red, as blood dripped down from her tear ducts.]
Nikki: I- ugh- I- you-
The Redman: To think, this could’ve been avoided if you didn’t try and kill me. I would’ve just played for fun, you know. It’s a good reminder of your place, I suppose.
[The Redman threw Nikki to the ground as she clasped a hand over her bloodshot eye.]
The Redman: Oh, and happy birthday, Nicole.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FIRST CAFE
DATE: EARLY JUNE
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-63
I was wondering when Solomon would arrive to yell at me. I hardly expected to get away with letting Nikki play the Redman’s game without drawing his ire. It… is an unfortunate price to pay to stay on course with Fate... for the time being, anyway. I wasn’t expecting the Mysterious Stranger to be with Solomon, but the more the merrier. However, it is hard to sling coffee with the Stranger around. He may be a problem down the road, but for now, I’m glad to keep his company.
The Owner: Solomon… I expected. The Stranger, now that’s a surprise. Do you two always come in a pair?
The Stranger: We didn’t have the chance to finish our prior conversation.
The Owner: Ah, yes. Interrupted by a Death Wyrm, that’s a first. Where did we leave off?
The Stranger: The Anathema Proxy clause.
The Owner: Ah… I remember. Do you really expect me to still be in the dark about something like that five months later?
The Stranger: No, I suppose not. You’ve already lost two to the saccharine of sin. You’re playing into his hands… unless you’ve reconsidered my position?
The Owner: In a way, I have. Though you and I both know nothing can be done until Fa—
Solomon: Why?!
The Owner: Hm?
Solomon: My niece. Why would you let her play Rubeus’ game?
The Owner: Let her? I am not her keeper, Solomon. She, like us all, is blessed with free will.
Solomon: You knew she would! You had to know it would end up like it did last time!
The Owner: Well, then, it was Fate, wasn’t it? And what can I do to stop Fate, Solomon? What more can I do?
The Stranger: This was not a fixed event.
The Owner: Then we circle back to free will—
Solomon: You could’ve stepped in! You could’ve stopped her! You—
The Owner: I wish I could have. I really do.
The Stranger: …but you didn’t. You had to have seen the signs. You made no attempt to change the course of Fate.
The Owner: Nothing is that simple. My only advantage against Fate is that I know what to expect. I can’t take that chance. Not yet.
Solomon: I won’t let her die.
The Owner: Ah. So, Belphegor told you about that as well. I am doing everything I can to prevent that, Solomon. You have my word. There are small things, teenage mistakes, and then there are big things. Deadly things. But… it’s still a little early to worry about Asmodeus, isn’t it?
The Stranger: To balance the scales of fate and liberty, one must die. The human or the Prince.
The Owner: Well, everyone has a date with death sooner or later, I suppose.
Solomon: You’re going to try and keep them both alive, aren’t you?
The Owner: Satan, too, if I can manage it. Trust the plan, Solomon. Fate expects death—and I demand life.