The 505 on West 47th

It's Hawthorne.

Pearl and Maya are there. I'm going now. Somebody hurry there as fast as you can.

I am normally the type to ramble a bit, but this morning I find I've got surprisingly little to say. Maybe there's something in my coffee or maybe I'm just in a quiet sort of mood, but I think I'll just get to the point today.

Now hiring able-bodied individuals for a variety of different odd jobs. All interested parties please inquire within.

Life is but a series of meetings and partings. A cup of coffee to greet the day, a cup before bed, hot, cold and bittersweet, but always distinctive.

One day you will drink your last of your favorite flavor, down to the last drop. Perhaps someday you and her will meet, pass each other by at a sidewalk cafe. Perhaps you'll never quite perfect her again, where she'll live in your memories, an aroma that taunts you to the day you breathe your last. A gaze into the bitter black future gives no clues. The darkness ahead is daunting and cold. Day may never break.

There is nothing but a gleam of light to guide you.

We are all ships lost at sea, searching for that light, that hope that may someday bring us safely to shore. We wander, aimless on dark oceans, for something we may never find.

But as long as a star shines in that black sky, we wander.



Excuse the tangent. I will be a more familiar face around this little piecemeal city of ours in the days to come, so perhaps it's appropriate I reintroduce myself for the benefit of all our newer citizens.

Diego Armando, attorney at law.

Daunting, isn't it? A hopelessness so great that human will itself seems entombed in the ice and the darkness. One match can't set the melting by itself-- and though one match on a raging fire seems insignificant, in every head there lies the spark to start its own. Cool heads, hotheads, many burn as one, and soon enough, there's a drops of water on your mukluks. A light in the blackest of nights. A sizzling drop on the bottom of the coffeepot.

Results.

I suppose this would be a roundabout way of saying... well done.

To those who've undergone trials, rest well. You can never really tell which sip might be your last.

[Private to Harry Dresden]

Seems I owe you yet again, amigo.

[Private to Molita]

I hear you were on the front lines. How'd that go?

[Private to Mia]

I could stand to be domestic as long as you need me to. Just let me know if you need anything-- and I mean it, my independent little kitten.

We may speak of monsters and demons, but the greatest foe is always time. Time, we've already faced once before. Five years, in fact... and compared to that, this is nothing, kitten.

I'll get you all back here if I have to row a boat out there myself.

Are you still all right?

The ants go marching, one by one, carrying a morsel of grain back to their nest along the banks of a raging river. They stop for the night and sleep-- and in the morning, their hard-earned food is missing, plucked from them in the shadows.

On one side, the river rages beneath them-- on the other, the woods stretch on endlessly, darkness looming between the trees. The reckless ants stalk along the river rocks in search of their grain, and are swept away in the torrent. Others wander the woods in despair, seeking for the sight of their salvation with little hope.

Others check the campsite.

So for all those busy little bees looking for their loved ones-- let's go about this the rational way, shall we? Evidence is the key to unraveling any enigma that life lays before us. With one bitter sip at a time, the lies will be lifted from us and we will taste the dark reality we so crave.

If you'd like to assist me, please make yourselves known.

Eliminate the impossible, and whatever is left over must be the truth. That's one of my rules.

In a hall of mirrors, a man lit a candle and watched a demon rise up from behind him. One, two, a dozen. Thirty. Thirty unto thousands, waiting in ambush. How many hellions threaten to slice him into fettuccine? One? Two? A dozen? Thirty? Thousands?

Perception and nonsense, numbers and tallies meaning nothing.

The question truly worth asking: how many demons worth of fear rise up from within him?

It's hard to measure cups out when you've already swallowed a gallon jug. Ah, a bitter blend indeed... yet another scalding shadow to drink up.

But how many demons will rise within us like acid, burning our hearts numb with fear and despair?

That is a sip worth savoring. Tell me if you're still breathing. Tell me if you'll try it.

[ooc note: It's funnier if you click this before you read]

Truly amazing, the capacity for a stalwart soul to keep on coming back, isn't it?

The human will is a powerful thing.

[Private to Ms. Hawthorne, medium security]

Ha ha.

[his voice sounds very hoarse and weak and his breaths a bit labored]

I've no energy for metaphors for once, so I'll refrain from comment on our oversized city mascot's little messiah impression.

Ha...! I'd say I've never been sicker in my life, but I guess that'd be a lie.

I had a pretty little nurse, but she seems to have taken a vacation. A long one. Given Madame Fey's proclivity for wandering I'll try not to jump to any conclusions, but if you could all keep an eye out for her I'd be much obliged.

[a few moments of labored breathing]

Did I hear one of you new faces is a doctor?

A button is depressed. A word is uttered. A breath is taken. A finger twitches. A shot is fired. A mountain collapses. A city is leveled. A star supernovas. The universe is born.

A boot can crush a worm. An ant can devour a mammoth. A king can oppress a serf. A molecule can end a life. Poison... some way to go.

What a bittersweet cup we've brewed today. Now we must swallow it, every last drop, savoring the flavor we've created.

Ha...! I hope no one is hurt.

[Private to Mia]

You're in a daze, I can tell that much. My ears are always open.

Forgive yet another of my little diatribes. Not a particularly novel topic, but significant nonetheless.

There is a special darkness in every cup and it often takes a seasoned tongue to detect it. The sophistocation of coffee generally smooths over any foul taste, and one learns to appreciate that bitterness over time... but occasionally something's still off.

Say you taste another's brew in secret and it burns and bites where it shouldn't... How does a gentleman face it? With an expression of pain-- or with the same unshakeable smile? Shall he risk offending the maker? Perhaps he's tasting something that was never there-- and even if it was, she's not his cup to criticize and never was. Even so, a man cannot deny what he senses... nor what he feels.

Or, for example, say that a lingering sickness nearly removes itself without you lifting a finger. You breathe easier, you sleep better, and all seems well-- when suddenly it returns as effortlessly as it vanished. How shall a gentleman proceed? Certainly with disappointment... but when we shuffle things around and the hated thing is a human life, perhaps that disappointment is a step too far towards cruelty. Bitterness... how long a man steeps before it becomes him?

On a lighter note, if you weren't already aware, Madame Fey, her sister and I have relocated from Madison Square Garden to a new home. I'll be keeping the location secure for the moment-- never can be too careful with all the freaks around-- but suffice to say, this place feels clearer. One can breathe a little easier in relative solitude.

I generally like this time of year, but I can't stand the cold anymore. It seems to cut me through even the thickest jackets. It would seem the only solution would be... Ha...! Well, you know where I'm going with this.

Even an old drink can be so bitter you choke on it. Never let your guard down when things start to percolate... never turn away from a boiling brew, not even for an instant.

That's all I really have to say on "the matter". Words are like gems-- the more plentiful they are, the more worthless they become. That's one of my rules.

[Private to Mia, Medium Security]

How do you feel? Has anything changed? Please don't hide it from me. Tell me everything. I'll keep you safe now.

Ha...! You're as bad for my nerves as you're good for my heart, Kitten.

[Private to Maya and Wright, same security]

There's safety in numbers, Hermanita. Stay inside. Don't go anywhere that nobody can see you- speak only to people you know and trust. Don't eat or drink anything that you don't prepare yourself. Stay close to one another.

[Private to Wright, same security]

Don't let anything happen to her if you like the way your face looks

[Private to Ms. Hawthorne, same security]

For the first time I've really regretted losing my sight.

Red and white are such a striking combination together. Your hair's still red, isn't it? Red hair on pretty white skin.

Red lips, a drop of red blood on a perfect white face.

Red blood soaking in a white dress... Ha...! I'll truly regret being unable to see it.

[Private to Harry Dresden, same security]

I'm sorry to pull you away from your business, amigo, but I need to call in a favor. Let's have a chat.

[Private to Diego Armando, same security]

Now you know how it felt to watch you die. How your face look when you suffered, how your strong body turned feeble and weak before your eyes-- how you couldn't even cry out or say a name. She was right behind you. She could have followed you down to hell-- is that what you wanted?

A beautiful kitten suffers and nearly dies for your stupidity.

We deserve all the pain and bitterness we pile on-- but she doesn't deserve to be martyred for the cause. It should have been you. It will only be you- never again. I'll burn before I see her die for you.

These are your sins that I wear, Armando. Remember that.

In the world there are people who live only for themselves and their own enjoyment-- people, places and things are only worth what they can provide for these men. Life and human beings are nothing but toys for them, tools to use. Chaos and violence are merely games to entertain them. They care nothing for anyone but themselves-- they may smile, behave kindly or even beg for mercy-- but there is no changing the black blood of the selfish and coldhearted and little we can do about them. In the face of the harsh truth, they crave destruction and they shatter the cup. In the end they are doomed to wallow in the darkness they create for the rest of their lives and beyond.

Yet in the same world there are people who live for others. They volunteer their time and energy for others. They offer themselves up with no hope of repayment. Honor and decency guide them through the darkness, and they are willing to sacrifice of themselves for the sake of hope. They laugh, they cry, they even make mistakes. They fall in love and pledge themselves to another. The murky drink around them is bitter, but they swallow it all anyway knowing there is no point in despair-- for at the bottom of the cup there is white porcelain. It may be stained or deep to drain to, but it waits for those who swallow the bitterness.

Cold days stir a man's thoughts of heat and dark coffee.

[Private to Mia]
Let's go for a walk later, you and me.

You know, in troublesome times like these it's nice to know there are generous people in the world who will go out of their way to do kind favors for others even at the expense of their own safety.

It's so touching.

[Private to Trite]

Aren't you just precious.

Well, now that things have calmed slightly on the home front it's time for a man to turn an eye to the greater world around him. As the dust settles, voices cough up from the darkness and we all learn to breathe again. There's a reason coffee goes so well with conversation-- bitterness shared is bitterness halved. That's one of my rules.

So tell me, neighbors. Who is left standing after the hoe-down collapsed? Some faces I've seen at the shelter, some I've glimpsed on the network, and some remain hanging in air like Old Man Schroedinger's Cat-- neither alive nor dead, simply in a state of "I wonder". Offer me comfort in an age dominated by the watery sludge that passes for coffee in the ruins of our former glory.

Incidentally, when things calm further I might need a strong back and steady hands for a favor. It's well-known enough that I always compensate happily and this time is no exception I plan to do the same. Inquire and be informed.

The air grows cooler and summer melts into the delicate autumn. I can't say I'll be missing the heat too much. Heat is best served in a cup with a bitter aftertaste, to where you can control how much you've got to swallow all at once.

I hope everyone's enjoying the fresh food our friends at the supply centers have found. I'm afraid I must count myself among the suspicious-- but if your eyes can be hidden, then it doesn't hurt to keep them peeled and well aware of what's around you. Still, the gods curse those who question gifts from the heavens, so I'll try not to let it bother me too much.

Along with the fresh food they found a good selection of store-bought coffee. For you heathens who can't handle the real thing, that should be a relief. Still, I plan to stake a claim on at least a bit of it. Disgusting and watery coffee is better than no coffee at all.

For curiosity's sake I'm going to second the query for doctors among our population. You can never be too careful in a disaster situation. Preparation is the iron stake in the pup tent of survival. That's one of my rules.

Oh, also. Hermanita, I appreciate your enthusiasm in lending a hand around the neighborhood.

But please ask before you use my coffee grinders to make shaved ice. Better yet, don't. Thanks.

My humblest gratitude to all those brave adventurers who brought me the beaniful bounty of their battles. I've discussed your rewards and will be coming through on my end of the bargain shortly.

[Private to Dresden and Molita, Low Security]

... Thanks.

[Private to Mia, Same Security]

I had a little chat about things with Harry and Toph. They know the gist of it now.

I noticed you and Maya had a little conversation with the Hawthornes the other day. Wherever this Iris came from, she did a good job of hiding if we missed her in our investigation all those years ago. She seems to know me from somewhere, but I suppose the Devil's dear darling sister would know all about me. Still, I'd like to know where she gets her information-- it's not everyday you're branded a "Mystic", Kitten.

In any case, be careful. I'll keep an eye on Hermanita for you.

You've been busy. How are things?

Ha... Today's just one of those days the body doesn't want to move much, letting the mind pick up the slack. Thoughts racing a thousand miles an hour in any old direction... these are the days of contemplation when a man feels his most genuine.

But the head lies to soften what the heart cannot handle. Such is the way a human works, layers of lies piled on top of one another. When the gilding and the dirt fall away, what have we left?

I'm commissioning any particularly bold individuals to do a little search-and-rescue work for me. The party in question are coffee beans. My supplies are getting a little uncomfortably low.

I had originally raided nearly all of abandoned coffee shops within a mile or so of the villages. I'm certain there must be more up north, but I'm in no shape to head up myself. I'll figure out some suitable reward for anybody who assists me in replenishing my hoard of black gold. Mock my situation if you must, but a man knows best what he needs to survive. That's one of my rules.

By the way, Hermanita; if you want a little coffee, I'd be happy to hook you up. Just ask first before you shove Blanca's glass pot on Madelina's heater. That's the way pretty ladies get their hearts melted.

[Private to Mia, Medium Security]
... Do you remember what today is?

How are you doing lately? You can tell me anything, you know that.

After all I've witnessed I find myself more curious than a child in a room full of electrical outlets. Every question more shocking than the last, the the prospect of ever learning growing dimmer and dimmer...

How deep can one sink into the darkness that lurks inside of him?

What does it take for him to lose control of himself?

When does man end and beast begin?

I stare into the depths of my coffee and even it can't answer for me. I've got a lot to percolate.

For the concerned, I'm pleased to announce that I'm feeling my usual self again and have retaken my position at the Rai Rai Ken. My gratitude goes out to all those who showed concern for this weary wanderer on his journey through that dark valley which consumed so many of us over the past few weeks. I'm used to such journeys... but my bitter heart aches for those who suffered needlessly and for no apparent reason. May our travels be blessed by the sunlight from here on out.

Ha...! I speak of light, but the food situation casts further shadow on our sunny outlook on things. I can only suggest we take things a day at a time and continue our battle for survival with the aid of our greatest weapon-- the grim smiles that must ever remain on our tired faces.

Rules I have many, but first and foremost among them is that we must never cry until it's all over. The mark of a true professional is to keep smiling, even when your insides are twisted up in knots and it grows harder and harder to breathe in the face of overwhelming odds.

I remain, of course, ever devoted to the purveying of the blackest of roasts. When the shadow grows to be too much, a quick dip down into an even harsher darkness can be surprisingly soothing. I stand ever ready to share the bitterest truth to any who seek it-- but will of course take the edge off should the harshness be too much for the gentle-hearted.