Pickman had not gone back into his secret chambers behind the main counter of his bookshop for over a day. He could still feel the cold fury of the darkness within him whenever he thought about the leering head in the jar. He did not want to tempt fate more than he already had by angering whatever demons resided in his soul any more.
And that may have been what Nekros wanted him to do anyway.
For the most part Richards shop was unremarkable. Most folks passed it by without batting an eye. Others who stopped in looked at the old shelves and scroll cases and notice that Richard only sold books. No trinkets, no staves, and no artifacts. Only books. This was enough to drive off most other customers who had an interest in the occult. Especially since Pandoras Box offered better deals and more goods.
However, of the few customers that Richard had regularly, they had become fiercely loyal and praised his skill in tracking down some of the most obscure volumes of lore. It was a few occult heroes who stopped by that really paid his bills. One hero in particular was there almost every day. He called himself Tarot, and he and Pickman regularly got into occult debates and compared notes on what they had learned.
Tarot was no-where to be seen today. It didnt surprise Richard in that the heros last purchase was a book on the Voydanniai which were known as house spirits in Russia. He knew Tarot was most likely trying to chase one down as a maid or some such. If the state of Tarots clothes were any indication, he needed one.
The shop was small and crowded with bookshelves, and reading areas composed of small tables and chairs Richard had scrounged off the streets. He had cleaned them up and even carved a few protective runes on some. He always thought it was funny that it was those tables that never seemed to get any graffiti carved into them.
Richard lived in the small studio above the shop but most of his time he was in the store itself. He regularly slept on the couch in the main reading area, sandwiched between the shelves containing books on Taoism and esoteric literature on astral projection and voyages.
Today he was behind the main counter and split his time between idly watching the store, watching the old black and white TV he had anchored to the ceiling corner, and reading a yellowed and tattered book on dream quests and the 72 steps of flame.
In his heart however he hoped today Doctor Balthasar would come. The head was straining at his confinement in the jar again and Richard felt some of his wards being tested. What scared him however, was that those wards were being probed from outside his shop. The Circle had left him alone for quite some time, and never would have bothered with looking for the wards he had placed. It was something else
Something that KNEW about wards to bind things like Nekros. That thought weighed heavily on Richards mind. He needed help. More than what he could find in his books were needed, and he dare not call his father on this matter. He had no wish to disturb the old man, especially after the brouhaha they had gotten in last time, when Richard told him he would NOT be going back to college.
Richard could only sit and wait for help. He reached under his counter to the mini-fridge he kept there and pulled a bottle of soda to drink and a few pieces of leftover pizza. He was eating them slowly and watching some badly animated cartoon about teen heroes in Paragon when he heard the bells above the door to his shop jingle.
((And there we go
The RP begins here folks. Have fun!))
Dr. Balthasar Michaels, Director of The Elohim in Paragon City, walked into the quaint little shop. The place smelled, pleasantly, of must and old paper. It reminded him of his study. He picked up a book called "Prima Enochiam: The First Call" and was flipping through it while he waited for his host.
Richard smiled at the elder gentleman standing in his shop and rose from behind the counter. It didn't dawn on him that this was Balthasar Michaels until he got close enough to see the man clearly.
"Ah Doctor Michaels! Thanks for comming. Again I appreciate any help on the matter I spoke to you about over the phone."
Richard offered his hand and shook that of the Doctor's firmly.
"Can I get you anything to drink? I have some soda, water, and a pot of tea from last night."
Balthasar smiled warmly at the man as he shook his hand.
"Tea, if you please. I ought to let you know immediately, I've invited a few of my colleagues here to meet with you. I've also discussed with a few friends of mine whom are also interested in matters of the occult the possibility of helping you. They may be joining us as well."
Balthasar looked through the bookshelves while his host went to get the tea. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the vast majority of the stock was comprised of sincere scholarly investigations. One book, in particular, made him arch his brows in shock and wonder, though he decided not to mention it to Richard.
When his host had returned and poured the tea, Balt sipped and smiled.
"Now... perhaps you would first like to discuss your interest in working for our firm while we wait for my friends and colleagues?"
Richard was only too glad to re-heat the herbal tea he had made last night. Granted the mere presence of Doctor Michaels had a somewhat calming effect on his nerves, but the tea always seemed to help as well.
He poured them both cups of the steaming liquid, passed one to Balthasar, and placed one on the table for himself.
Well as you can see, Richard began by gesturing to the crowded store, This shop is not exactly a booming business. Im not looking for fame or fortune, and you have no need to tell me that I wont get rich working for your group. I dont want to get rich, I just want to keep a roof over my head. Richard chuckled and reached behind him. He pulled a book off the shelf and placed it on the table. The tome was bound in fine leather and embossed with gold in strange designs.
The problem comes down to this really. Most people pass an Occult shop and expect the same new-age crap every other place is peddling. I dont go in for that however. I deal in real books on real knowledge, and for some reason, most practitioners of the art are just not looking for true knowledge. They just want to expand their power. You just dont get that from the books I sell without some work.
Richard opened the book and flipped a few pages. He paused when he hit a diagram of extreme complexity.
This is Koraqs theory of Magic and Anti-Magic. It spells out the workings of occult energy and theories of magic no one else has proposed. He even quantifies things and makes mathematical models of spells. The text is so complex that most that pick it up and try to read put it down right away. Its just not what most occult types are looking for.
Richard sighed and closed the book. Hence why Pandoras Box does such great business. They sell what the people want. Quick and easy power without a lot of work. And thats why my shop is constantly in the red. And really, why I need another job.
Pausing, Richard picked up his teacup and sipped, looking at Balthasar. The man vaguely reminded him of his father.
As for a resume, I really dont have one. Ill be totally honest here, most of what I know is self taught. There was
an incident at Paragon University and I was asked not to return, so I dont have any kind of degree. However, every book in this shop I found. I have also found several books that specific occult heroes needed for their work and I can give you their names for reference if youd like. I seem to have a talent for finding things like that
As Ill show you with the item I need help with.
Richard took his empty cup and walked behind the counter, placing it in a dishpan to clean later.
I suppose I just would really like to put my skills to more use than finding books for people. Id like to help them more than that and
and help myself understand things more. Richard let those last words come out as a whisper. Shaking his head, he looked at Balthasar again.
Does that make sense? I have a long history with occult affairs, and can offer practical knowledge that is primarily self-taught. I thought you might be able to use someone like me. Richard shrugged and pulled out a box of donuts he got earlier in the morning.
Care for one? I uh
well Id like to wait for your friends before I show you my find.
David Black opened his HeroNet data pad as he sat in the coffee shop and saw that his message to Baltasar Michaels got through and he was indeed accepted into the Elohim organization. "Alright. Now we're cooking with gas!" David said to himself. He immediately began to compose a message to Mr. Michaels. It reads:
[Mr. Michaels, Thank you for your quick response and recruitment. I won't let you down and I am ready to help. I am accustomed to the "sink or swim" method of starting jobs so let me know where and when we can meet to talk further. I have briefed you on my "skills" and I hope I can use them to help out soon.
Thanks again.
-David]
saved and sent.
Niranen pushed the door open cautiously, and padded in on silent feet. She regarded the shop with her wandering awareness, inhaled deeply, and moved to activate her comm.
"Vagabond Mage, come in... I am at the bookstore you told me about. I'll try and soak up a little information on behalf of the Dauntless."
Looking pale and battered from her altercation the night before, Niranen moved wraithlike toward the gentlemen as they sat absorbed in conversation. Keeping a polite distance, she ran her fingers over the spines of books, her dead eye staring distantly, reflecting nothing.
Smiling and inclining her head to the men, she waited.
Balthasar took an eclair from the variety box and took a bite with obvious relish.
"I don't have enough opportunity to indulge my love of pastry... If I hadn't seen your reasons as altruistic and reasonable, I would still be inclined to offer you membership in The Elohim should you promise to bring more doughnuts."
He grinned snarkily, took another alarmingly large bite from the eclair, and sat back in his chair. Though his table manners, in this case, seemed somewhat lacking, he was mannerly enough to wait to continue until his mouth was no longer full.
"You see," Balthasar said as he took a long sip and wiped away a stray crumb or two from his mouth, "our organisation needs people with both power and restraint. Either without the other is worthless. An investigator is only as good as his end goal."
He wiped his hands off casually and took another drink. Then he pointed at the book in Pickman's hands.
"That there, as an example. There is power to be learned in that book and the author does an admirable job of deflecting away those who desire power but have not the patience that is the hallmark of restraint. I have never opened it, myself, but I would hazard that perhaps half of it has no meaning whatever. And of the half that does, I suspect that half of that, perhaps a bit more, is well hidden behind meaningless thematic content."
He paused for a moment to lean forward, a wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
"This is both the bane and the saving grace of modern civilisation. Because while it means that a true scholar... someone like yourself?... must sift through ridiculous amounts of chaff to get to the wheat, it also means that others who lust after power often do not have the wherewithal to see their quest through."
Balthasar leaned back in his chair to gauge his host's reaction before continuing. Having satisfied himself that Pickman was of the right stripe, Balthasar made in internal decision which was reflected in his next words.
"Tell me... Richard... as a learned man you must have some conception of what conventional belief holds about the meaning of "The Elohim." Angels and gods etcetera. What do you think of the matter?"
Richard looked up at the woman who had entered his shop. She was not a regular, and really didnt seem to be interested in buying anything. Richard just assumed that she was one of the other members of Balthasars group.
Miss, let me know if you have any questions or need to check a price on something. Richard offered. Better to be sure she was not a customer before anything else.
Returning his gaze to Balthasar, Richard paused and scratched his beard gently. He dug under the table and pulled out a yellowed notepad and a pen. The paper was covered with notes, symbols, and names of an esoteric nature.
Well I never wanted to assume anything Doctor Michaels. But to be honest when I saw your group advertised by the Sly Fox I first assumed that the name was nothing more than what conventional wisdom has purported.
He flipped a few pages in the notebook and pointed to a diagram littered with sketches of angels.
The Elohim were one of the choirs of angels according to Hebrew and parts of Christianic myth. They were a smaller choir set up to guard humanity and keep watch over them. Now some myths diverge here, and this is where much of the history is either bogged down in new-age nonsense or muddled by role-playing games that try to expand or retell the myths. In some stories, the Elohim have kept watch and continued to do so regardless. In fact some say that all the supers in the world today support this and the Elohim are simply becoming more visible as something we understand.
Richard reached out and sipped his tea before continuing.
Frankly I file that under the new-age nonsense category. The other stories say how the Elohim were cast out of heaven for breeding with humans, making a kind of half-breed angel-man. The Elohim were disgraced, but never gave up their love and care of humanity. Many gaming materials take this tract and one could argue the same idea of the supers being the half-breeds spawned by the Elohim. Richard flipped a few more pages in his notes to one with a decidedly alien text upon it, and drawings of strange beings.
There is a third option however. Most people never see it, and it does have smackings of twilight-zone stuff, or bad sci-fi depending. This information I had to dredge out of some ancient books and some of it I really have not resolved. Other information
well that relates to my find really.
Richard took a deep breath and then began pointing at certain symbols.
In many mythologies there is a triumvirate of powers. A creator, a preserver, and a destroyer. This system of threes exists in many religions and occult circles the globe over. But in some ancient Sumerian texts I found what might be the first names given these powers by man. It was the first time I came across them, and the first time I think they were written down as distinct entities. They are the Annunaki, or destroyers; the Elohim, or preservers; and a third race. That third races name is the Yah, and I found that out not from any book, but from the find I keep referring to. Ill show you it in a moment.
These races seemed to fight a war over man. Making armies from humanity and shaping the world as they saw fit. Now the Elohim were always cast in a good light, and shown as trying to educate humanity. A Prometheus figure if you will. The Annunaki however
I have found more references to them than I thought existed when I began looking. Even in modern texts.
Richard pulled a book from under the table that was with the notepad. This he opened and showed it was a log-book and journal.
This was the log of a team of explorers from a university in Massachusetts, how it got back Im not sure because the text seems to dictate that none survived. Not even the author. Long story short they tell of a find in Antarctica, of a massive city that pre-dates humanity. The carvings on the buildings were of beings not human by any stretch. One of the men was able to roughly translate a word as Anak, which I believe is a shortening of Annunaki.
Richard reached for the notebook again and flipped a few pages forward. The notes were littered with book names and titles.
There were more, many more. And each was horrible in a different way. But in several cases I saw notes of something that saved people. Almost akin to the half-breed angels I spoke of earlier, but more along the lines of warriors either the Elohim or Annunaki constructed for their wars.
Richard pushed back the notebook and began rubbing his head. The darkness within him was awake again and was gnawing at him. It was always like this since he found out about the Annunaki
since he found Nekros. He grabbed his teacup and swallowed the tea remnants down. Something in him wanted to lash out, to cover the walls in blood and draw the entrails across a canvas for the world to see. Richard pushed it down and grabbed a donut.
Im not sure why your group chose the name Elohim Doctor Michaels, but it has a deeper history than most people know. I think
I think much of the third aspect I described is real, with many more things besides. I also think it is time I showed you my find so you can help me resolve this and ensure Im not going mad.
Richard stood shakily and walked to the set of bookshelves behind the main counter. He didnt care who saw at the moment, the howling in his mind and body was reaching a peak. He NEEDED someone to see Nekros, he needed someone to confirm or deny the things the head had told him. He needed to know why his world had been shattered by this madness.
He pulled on the book entitled Passages and looked into the darkness
And something wet and horrid began to laugh.
Manflesh
You held me for too long. My brothers have come and I am free.
Several sets of red eyes gleamed in the darkness. Feral growls filled the shop and the stench of rotting meat lingered.
Pickman, I WILL come for you. You show too much promise for corruption. Enjoy this farce you have joined.
There was the sound of metal on stone, the sweet-sickly smell of rot, and then nothing.
Richards hands were shaking
At the sound of the gurgling voice Niranen froze... then carefully replaced the book she had been pretending to read and fell into battle stance.
She raised her voice to address the two men.
"A curious way to meet, gentlemen," she said calmly, attention never wavering from the newly open maw of the descending hall. "Allow me to properly introduce myself before we fall into darkness together.
"Niranen Einar, Anointed of the Dauntless, at your service."
[ QUOTE ]
David Black opened his HeroNet data pad as he sat in the coffee shop and saw that his message to Baltasar Michaels got through and he was indeed accepted into the Elohim organization. "Alright. Now we're cooking with gas!" David said to himself. He immediately began to compose a message to Mr. Michaels. It reads:
[Mr. Michaels, Thank you for your quick response and recruitment. I won't let you down and I am ready to help. I am accustomed to the "sink or swim" method of starting jobs so let me know where and when we can meet to talk further. I have briefed you on my "skills" and I hope I can use them to help out soon.
Thanks again.
-David]
saved and sent.
[/ QUOTE ]
David,
I am at Pickman's Occult Books. Attached are directions. If you would like to join me here, you are welcome to. If you do, please note that our organisation is conducting an investigation here and you will be expected to conduct yourself accordingly.
Be well and I will see you soon.
Balthasar
<<looks at his data pad>>
Hey that shop is only a few blocks from here.
After a quick jog to the shop David [6'4", brown hair in a ponytail, goatee, wearing grey cargo pants and a blue t-shirt and dark sunglasses] enters...
<<the ring of the old style "new customer" bell juxtaposes itself on the scene. Upon entering he sees the battle ready Niranen>>
"Is this a bad time?"
<<Looks over to Baltasar and extends his hand in greeting albeit warily>>
"Mr. Michaels I presume?"
((Sorry guys... work got busy. I'll post a good response when I get home))
Niranen felt the sudden absence of menace like a gasp of air after drowning. She slowly drew herself to her full height and clasped her hands behind her back, waiting patiently.
<<roger that, Dr. Michaels>>
The crisp air of the darkened room tasted of cold sweat and filthy water. She sat in the center of the floor, surrounded by a circle of blue sand, clasping a candle in her closed fist.
"Dark Lady of the shadowed place,
Mistress of my soul and body.
Merciful Persephone, tell me!
What has troubled the night?"
Valerie had felt it. There was something in the air, something acrid and foul. It offended her nostrils each night while she slept. Some evil had come to Paragon, something ancient and mystical. An evil she was certain her mistress would not approve of. She shifted in her seated pose, spreading the sand more evenly with her index finger.
"Blackest Hecate,
Lady of the ebon crossroads.
Show me a path
To this force of evil!"
The vision came as clear as day, a sign outside a quaint shop. Her eyes went wide as she murmured to herself, "Pickman's Occult Books." Dropping the candle in her shock, she breathed a bit of frost at it to snuff the flame. Grasping her commlink off the small coffee table of her modest apartment, she flipped it open and began to speak hurriedly. "Nira... Nira! The bookstore. It's housing a great evil. Be extremely careful."
She heard the voice of the Anointed woman respond in a whisper. "Roger that, Val. I heard something unpleasant behind a bookcase, perhaps it is that which you speak of."
Valerie took a deep breath and began clearing away the sand. "Tell Doctor Michaels what I've seen, I have no way of contacting him outside of his office."
Balthasar looked up at the first jingle of the doorbells to see the woman enter. She did not look familiar to him, but having extended his invitation to his groups of allied friends he could not be certain she was not one of them.
He introduced himself to the woman with a warm smile and some kind words about her circle of friends, then went to follow Richard as he came to the crux of tonight's matter.
Balthasar was not surprised at Mr. Pickman's find, per se. Indeed, as soon as he had set foot in the door the knowledge that there was a slumbering, though restless, evil was silvery sharp on his tongue. What DID susprise Balthasar was when Mr. Pickman opened the door.
For the distinguished neurosurgeon and mentalist had not known the thing was free. Indeed, he had not known that it was not alone. That, in and of itself was troubling to him. But he had a vague sense of unease that he had heard noises and voices much like the gurgling, snarling ones so lately gone.
"Richard... Perhaps you would care to enlighten us as to what just happened," Balthasar said just as David Black entered. He shook the man's hand, distractedly but sinceredly offered his greetings and turned to face Richard once more.
"I strongly suspect that whatever just left this place needs to be hunted. And we cannot do that ignorant of its nature."
Niranen seconded Dr. Michael's call for explanation, offering a small note of her own. "I have just received a panicked message from one of my Dauntless who... felt that, whatever it was."
Straightening and regarding Pickman with her ball-bearing orb, Niranen smiled coolly. "It seems someone has let loose a rather... unpleasant... force on the city. I would listen and learn of it, if you would permit me."
Balthasar was not necessarily surprised to learn that whatever Pickman has been harboring was so evil. He was, however, surprised... and impressed... at his friend's group's ability to track them so efficiently. He eyed Niranen appraisingly, though not rudely. She could easily tell that his appraisal was... well... a re -appraisal and one that measured her favourably.
He spoke to Niranen, then. Warmly, but probingly. "I should like to speak with your associate who informed you of such, Niranen, if it please you..."
Though her eye never focused, Niranen returned Dr.Michael's gaze with equal candor. The weight of her second sight was nigh palpable in the close room.
Nodding in answer to his request, Niranen removed her earpiece and commlink without hesitation. "You'll have to hold it next to your ear, I'm afraid," she said apologetically, "it's built for my own."
Offering the gadgets to him, she continued, "ask for Lady Proserpine. She has rather interesting primary sources."
Her grin was almost impish.
Balthasar was not completely ignorant of modern technology. He DID have a top-of-the-line cell phone, after all. But he had never used the thing Niranen offered to him. Smiling crookedly, he held the earpiece to his ear and, hazarding a guess, spoke into the commlink.
"Proserpine?"
Valerie quite nearly dropped her tea.
"Hello? Doctor Michaels?"
Balthasar was relieved he hadn't embarrassed himself by using the thing incorrectly. He smiled and addressed Valerie, his voice Cambridge-accented and rich, even through the dubious fidelity of the earpiece.
"This is he. Is this Proserpine?"
"Indeed, Sir. How can I help you?"
"I would like to invite you to take an active role in this investigation, my dear. In part because I think you can help us greatly... and in part because I should very much like to speak with you about your intriguing abilities."
(NOTE: This RP thread picks up on the story started between Balthasar and Richard Pickman in Stars in Their Courses: The Arrival of The Elohim. Feel free to jump in if you'd like but members of the Elohim are really encouraged. Also check out The Elohim: A Brief History and Primer (Revised) for further info on our SG, as well as background and ideas. Also, the first few bits of this are a combination of the first contact between Richard and Dr. Balthasar.)
Richard turned off the old black and white television behind the counter and began to scratch his beard.
He idly leafed through a few of the days invoices and sighed again as his hands hit the same red ink over and over again. In debt, past due, third notice, final notice, were all the letters read on his cluttered desk.
Whomever suggested I should go into business for myself should be shot. He grumbled. When the words left his lips however, he almost immediately regretted it.
That can be arranged you know. The voice was little more than a sibilant hiss coming from behind the bookcase that dominated the wall to his rear. He knew it came from behind the case simply because he had put the thing speaking to him there.
Youre not going to shut up now that youve started talking again unless I come speak with you now right? Richard asked. The voice chuckled in a disturbingly wet gurgle.
You begin to know my mind man-flesh. Come speak with me.
Richard grunted but walked out from behind the counter and flipped the sign on his door over. Pickmans Occult Books. it read Now Closed.
He made the journey back behind the counter and walked to the set of shelves. It seemed like miles to him, and every moment was an eternity. He grasped a book on the far right simply entitled Passages and pulled. The two inner shelves of the set folded inward making a small door into a dark room.
Richard strode into the darkness and pulled the chain to seal the door behind him. Arcanum Luminos he whispered, and in a gust of wind, five torches arranged as the points of a pentagram or twisted star erupted into flames. The walls here were stone with carvings made deep into their surfaces. Most were holy symbols of almost every country and religion imaginable. Others were arcane symbols made for protection and safety.
The room was a simple circle with three steps that led down into a small seating area. A few pillows were about but in the center of the room stood a pedestal. On that pedestal sat a rather large bell jar. Floating in that bell jar was a head, which was grossly feral with several areas of decayed flesh exposed along its skull. Pronounced canine fangs gleamed in the mouth of the thing, as the corners of the mouth turned up in a horrid grin.
Ah, the man-flesh returns. Have I not taught you much? Have you not learned tenfold what your little books could not tell you? The grimace of rotted teeth in a decayed mouth was enough to make Richard turn away.
However, my books told me much about you Nekros. About how only this sign inscribed on the floor keeps you held, about how you would warp me if you could. Warp me to be like you. The head in the jar laughed and then extended a rough black tongue to lick the inner surface of the jar in a profane manner.
But you have me still. And what can I do as a head?
Enough Nekros, enough. What I have read about you and your kind is enough to set my blood to freeze. I never should have preserved you, and I thank whatever guardians there are that I found the key to bind you in time. Richard sighed again and sat down upon the pillows of his inner sanctum. To think he was once considering the dreaded Circle an option once. With his discovery of Nekros, his entire world changed however.
I can help you Richard. I can give you more than you ever thought was possible. Just look at what you have learned from me by now! Your little shop is failing, your life is a mess, and you only have yourself and me to talk to anymore. Let me out Richard I can help you, even avenge you upon those who, as you put it talked you into going into business for yourself. The last words emanating out of the head were Richards, literally. The thing spoke in Richards voice at that moment as if to re-enforce the hatred Richard had expressed earlier.
Richard simply began to laugh. He looked at the head with thinly veiled hatred and spoke in a deep voice not totally his own. Nekros, Ghoul, Silence. The head snarled but the rotted lips of the thing suddenly sealed shut. The dull red glare from the hollow eye sockets of the skull only seemed to flare however.
I have already mortgaged more of my soul than I care to admit. You will not trap me by such foolishness. Im going to do two things I should have done long ago, find out the real story behind you and and find myself a real job.
With that Richard Pickman, seller of occult books, part time artist, small time investigator, and delver into secrets best left unknown pulled out his cell phone and made a call.
Im looking for a Doctor Balthasar Michaels, head of a group called the Elohim? Um yes it IS about a job, but also about well asking if he has need of an investigator.
The head in the jar snarled but Richard waved his hand and the symbols about the room flared into life. Each began to glow with a different aura as the head squeezed whatever was left of its eyelids shut to block out the painful light.
If this place is as good as their ad on TV says they are, I might have hope of more than just a paycheck. I might be able to find out what the hell is really going on with you with everything
"This is Balthasar Michaels, how might I help you?"
The voice was mature and kind on the other end of the line. Richard smiled gently until he looked over at the head in the jar. The foul thing sneered at him as it still fought to free its lips from one another.
"Hello Doctor Michaels, my name is Richard Pickman. I just saw your ad just a moment ago on television. I'm rather curious as to how this all works? Essentially... I may have a job for you and your group if you're willing."
"How it all works?" the voice on the other end of the line said. "Well, friend, the first thing we do is ascertain whether my organization can help you. Once that is accomplished we can then talk about the specifics of the inquiry and I can assign a colleague or two to your case. From that point you will work closely with said colleagues until your case is brought to a successful resolution. Now... since I have explained the process, perhaps we should begin it. What work did you have in mind for us?"
Richard listened intently to the man and jotted a few notes down on a pad of paper near the phone. He looked up at the head only to see that it had almost freed it's lips from the silence binding.
"The job? Oh yes the job! Well you see... The job would be an investigation in regards to a find I have made recently."
Covering the phone with his palm for a moment Richard pointed towards the head and stated clearly, "Nekros, Ghoul, I bind thee to silence until I free thee." The head snarled without sound and beat itself on the walls of its glass prison. Richard drew a sigh of relief.
The pause on Richard's end of the line was misconstrued, leading Balthasar to prompt "What sort of find?"
"Well the find is occult in nature," Pickman said. "I assume you have experts in that area on your team? If so I would dearly like to speak with them. I... I really need help on this."
Balthasar paused. No sense in letting Mr. Pickman know, yet, how recently The Elohim had decided to create a presence in Paragon. "Yes, of course. We have inroads into the occult community. I'm quite certain we can help you. I will contact my colleagues who are versed in that field. Was there anything else you wished of me before I get to it?"
The eyes of the head glowed a dull red and looked at Richard with pure hatred. Somewhere, deep in Richard's soul he could feel a darkness returning the gaze just as intently.
"Well the other question I have is... Do you have positions available? I, uh... Well to be honest I find myself at a financial impasse at the moment and need work other than my bookshop. I am quite an accomplished investigator in my own right, but specialize in occult matters, so the field is... well limited for my kind of work."
Balthasar considered Pickman's offer for a few moments before replying. "Well, sir... we can always use more intelligent, well-informed investigators. I feel that in the interests of fairness I must disabuse you of any daydreams of wealth if you wish to be an investigator with us. If you are still willing to serve, however, then we can talk. When and where shall we meet?"
Richard heard bubbles from the Jar and turned to see the head laughing without sound. He gave the head the finger and turned back to the phone.
"I could come in anytime, or you could come here. I have a shop in Steel Canyon on the corner of 18th and Kazahd Ave. It's near Silver Lake I believe. Thank you Doctor Michaels... I appreciate your help immensely."
"It is my pleasure, sir," Balthasar replied. "I shall visit your shop within a day or two to discuss things further with you. Be well and have a good evening."
Richard hung up the phone and walked over to the jar. The head glared back with a demonic rictus stretched across its rotted lips.
"*******." Richard whispered as he grabbed a black cloth and covered the thing. Somewhere in the pits of his stomach something cried out for more revenge than that... to split the head open and rend the grey-matter over a canvas for the world to see.
Richard grabbed his head and moaned as he left his meditation room and sat out front. He grabbed a bottle of asprin from under the counter and a bottle of water to wash it down.
"May whatever Gods there are, help me out on this one." Richard whispered as he sat in his Chair.