[STASIS] John takes stock of his values.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This branch is kept here just for archival purposes and/or if someone, for whatever reason, wants to use it. Beyond here is a short dead-end of nothing particularly interesting. I recommend turning back and going on my canon route. (This note will be removed in the event this branch is given new life.)]

Does this change anything?

John looked Juniluny over: her scowl still managed to appear smug even as she faced ****, perhaps only because she got one over on him. They had killed Talon, more brutally than John had killed Yarrick and without the same ongoing level of threat. But Talon, no matter what he suffered, was still a slaver... and had tried, with no hesitation, to kill John. Was it really injustice to see him die?

If that's what the Order fights... maybe he’s lucky to be dead.

John flinched at his own thoughts. Had he always been this callous? He never had power before, or known so much about the secret societies that had been the accepted truths of the desperately bored and paranoid. All his childish fantasies, of hurting Frank or going after criminals like a merciless vigilante, had been nothing more... But I could really become that, now... Hell, far as I know, the Order is basically some kind of pseudo-Christian Justice League, albeit with just one Wonder Woman. Video games, comic books... it's all kind of real, and weirdly the people in the “know” seem to have trouble with me... Hell, I could kill them without really trying.

“Well, tall one? Are you going to be happy with that... seeing my head roll once they’re done **** me for my secrets?”

John took another step back from the halfling. She tried to look smug... and was a natural at it, too. But John saw it there in her trembling eyes, in how her hands gripped her new belt, in how her shoulders drooped: she was barely hanging on. She was terrified of the Order... or else, she was terrified of him. She must've imagined the worst going on in his mind... and on his current line of thinking, she would be right to be afraid.

“You... didn’t kill Talon...”

“Talon was a human,” John quickly spat... but even with his slippers, his tone was too ****. “You’re just trying to get off without a punishment.”

“I’ve been enslaved, my life’s work has been confiscated, I’ve lost my free will, and perhaps worst of all: you’ve killed all my slaves!”

“You put some kind of suicide effect on them!”

“Sure, to go off if I died! Since I’m well enough to walk among the living, there’s obviously something else about your damn brand that triggered it... meaning you’re the one that killed-” It finally snapped into place. Her assumption, her anger over a lost servant, her curiosity as to how her genuine Hellbat could be defused and have the thwarting party live... how the Hellbat could be slain without exploding. Juniluny felt it the moment Tara died...

... as Juniluny’s slaves had felt the **** of their master.

“You... branded Tara.”

John barely gave her words time to stop ringing in the air before he shouted, “You’re not to harm or endanger her in any way.”

“Tara breathes,” she slowly whispered, “and you seem to have wanted Talon to do the same... even if only as an Order chew toy, for all you apparently appraised of all their appalling amorality... but her... you marked her... to keep for yourself.”

“I marked her to save her from blowing up!”

Juniluny’s smile grew slow and hideous. “But she and her precious flames aren’t here, now are they? More’s to the point... did you ever give her up to the Order? I thought I would’ve heard from-”

“I didn’t,” John replied.

“Oh... Well, does the Order know she, too, worked for the Cabal?” Her meaning grew slowly in John's mind until his expression became stone. “Oh my... they don’t, do they? But they will once they have me... I won’t tell them, of course, Master, but the Order leaves little choice: they’ll peel it from my mind, no matter how far you have me bury it, and then, my sweet talling... then you’ll have to send yet another to the pits of the Order.”

Tara came to his mind: her snarky attitude, her lustful heat, her eyes that burned even when her flames were doused... her freedom, which he promised, and his orders that would help ensure she would try and live a good life from now on. He thought to visit her on his Sunday off but didn’t want to remind her of what he did, no matter how cruel or merciless she might've been before. In his mind, his brand had helped reform the unreformable... and had simultaneously inflicted such a cruelty that his only recourse was to leave her be.

Am I ready, now, to order her to walk into the Brighton mansion, just to... John thought of Talon, and of how much harder it would be to keep Tara alive and in captivity... Tara, a living bomb of hellfire. The Order might not even wait until the night before executing her... and once they got Juniluny to talk, they wouldn’t be able to ignore even a **** to the Cabal roaming Springfield. If the Order wasn't careful, then Springfield would go up in flames... and even if they were, it would mean Tara's ****.

On his orders.

Damn it...

“Are you ready to kill two women, John? Because if you’re not... I have a suggestion.” Juniluny’s hands let go of her belt. They were rattling like leaves on the hood of a car engine turning, but she still managed to find the first latches of her armor on her shoulder.

John shook his head. “That’s not going to help you.”

“Really? I may be at cock-height, boy, but I can still tell your eyes seldom leave my fresh-baked loaves.” John was fairly certain she meant her tits... mostly because, somewhat to his shame, not even these dire times could keep his gaze from wandering. The task was harder still when she undid the latches on her left shoulder and waist to unfurl, with surprising ease, the blue leather armor that wrapped around her body. Only a thin layer of white cotton, the guard between her pale flesh and the harsh interior of the armor, clung to her body now. She was sweating... perhaps from the armor, or the stress, but it couldn't have been from the slightly cool temperature of the Temple. It clung to her slightly chubby, absurdly hourglass form in all the right ways for John's pants to grow tight, but he was already shaking his head. She sighed, "I could be useful to you."

"That's..." John struggled to order her to stop. His libido was out of control, surely, if he couldn't order that much.

She peeled away the layer of cloth, letting her heavy breasts tremble as she rocked to and fro in place. "Think about it, Master: you just tell the Order you killed me, and I'd stay here. I could pleasure you... tutor you... guide you on all the things you obviously don't know, and skip the nasty parts you don't want to know. Tara continues to live however she's living out there in the ugly world. Maybe I even join her in some... semblance of freedom."

"You know I can't do that."

Juniluny stepped forward, her eyes glimmering as she spoke. "Fine, keep me here... do me silly... pork me pregnant with precious portions of poor you and poor me... if you think you can. I'll do it all... I'll do anything..." She had reached him, and still his orders couldn't find his lips. She caressed his crotch; the outline of his turgid rod was easy to find, and her fingers continued to shake as she tried to keep her bravery up. "... and I'll do it all willingly... if you just let me..." Live. She didn't say it, but there was no ambiguity left for John to hide behind: she was begging for her life, and her willing body was all she had to offer. Worse still, he couldn't contemplate the result of refusing-

"Stop." She did so. Her eyes betrayed a wave of despair from her failure, and so he quickly went on, "You know I can't let you leave this Temple... not without my direct supervision, and even then, probably only when I truly need you."

Her face lit up with sudden elation, enough to make her seem disingenuous. This was quickly replaced with a mask of distrust. “So this does mean you’re not going to turn me over to the Order, right? Not even for a chat?”

“You may have to, just as a sign of good will... but I’ll insist that I’m there when they do it, just to make sure you’re alright...” ... and to make sure you don’t end up like Talon did. “Don't think you're getting away with all you've done... but you're right. I'm already taking just about everything from you... and you'll continue to serve me as punishment.”

Juniluny grinned wickedly. “Of course, Master... a human lifetime of servitude is probably no less than what you think I owe.”

John's mind went to his paragon options. Yeah... better I don't tell her... more importantly... “But now we've got to find something to do for the next few hours...”

Juniluny caressed her glistening, naked form as she looked the bulge that still threatened her. She swallowed, audibly and visibly, before forcing a smile. “Of course, Master...”

"Besides this Iowa guy, I want you to tell me about everything else you know about the Cabal..." Her ears pointed downward as she realized his actual plan. "... and the Order.”

Half an hour later...

"Arkmadyos the Wise, who holds the rank of Phil- ... Philosophus," John recited, "your superior and the one who wanted to use a Gorbachev for his experiment."

Juniluny nodded idly as she sat at the foot of her Master’s statue. The Temple felt a bit emptier, given the summons on loan to Tricia at the moment: Tita kept her watch over Woofroot's seed; the string bear, mysteriously docile, remained in the far corner as it always did; the malformed living bombs he had spared played with a poker set he had bought them, each using spare mana-berries John had granted them as playing chips, while sitting on the training pit floor; the Almiraj, bereft of their youngest, sparred in the empty dojo; and Thumalk, still sick by fairy dust, remained in the armoury as cleric spirits occasionally attended to his near-hourly spurt of self-pleasuring.

Juniluny, still high on the relief of what appeared to be a stay of execution, approached the questioning neutrally. Every tidbit she gave, having once been a terrible **** sentence by confession, now seemed to hold a bit of delight for her: John figured she loved the sound of her own voice, or perhaps loved to lecture, but most likely it was that his every satisfied curiosity was further insurance against her ****.

"So this Arkmadyos has a secret lodge that serves as a kind of meeting place for the Cabal... and now that I know where it is, I could technically strike first... if I thought they'd come after me. But you're saying they'd only do that if they knew you were captured by me."

"Aye... and every minute I’m in the Order is sixty opportunities for the Cabal to learn of their need for your capture or ****, Master-"

"Which brings us to the spy, John Iowa, and the others throughout the Order, including one other in the Brighton Manor besides Mr. Iowa... one whose identity you don't know, but I’ll deal with that on my own.”

Juniluny remained silent at that. Despite her half-enjoyment of educating John, she would’ve chosen against betraying the Cabal if she were allowed. More than her philosophical agreement, the first confessions from her lips condemned her before the Cabal masters. Of course, for me to even worry about them, first I need to get free of this child’s mark... except I can't move a muscle against him or his will. How can I trick this foolish, heavy-meated boy to want to leave me be? Her eyes drifted to his pants; despite him stopping her, or perhaps because of it, her mind constantly drifted back to how he had almost ravaged her. Maybe if I left him... rightly tuckered out...

"Priscilla the Black, your fellow Practicus, who once sabotaged your experiments on reducing souls to a fluid base."

"She’s likely interfered with more than that, I'd bet..."

"Califaux, another fellow Practicus, who you've never seen without what sounds like a plague doctor's uniform from that old game... what was it... ah, Murderer's Oath: Kinship."

The captured Cabalist raised an eyebrow before deciding to stand up from the raised platform of the statue. Finding one of the nearby pools inviting, albeit not enough to strip down to naked again, she sat on its edge and stared at her reflection. She felt no thirst for the water... which surprised her, when she thought about it.

"No useful information on him, either, except that he uses guns that fire specially crafted bullets. Horfax, a machine with a glowing red eye, is apparently also a mage of equal rank, and you're equally in the dark about him?"

"We keep our hands close to our chests, Master... at least until it's time to impress the old man or his masters,” she sighed as she let her fingers glide on the water’s surface.

"I’d just think you’d keep closer tabs, being in an evil magic cult and all..."

She audibly gasped at him, appalled. "The Cabal is no cult! And before you suspect anything less than the genius you've managed to ensnare, manling: none of those pompous fools even knew of my precious Maze. As I said: we’re a protective clutch."

John sighed at the halfling’s outburst before continuing. "Kuralae, a shadow... elf." How many kinds of elves are there, I wonder... "Excessively horny, eager to please her masters, and probably keeps slaves..."

"You’d get along swimmingly.”

“As would you.”

“Poppycock!”

The exchange brought a smile to his face... which then shrunk as he remembered who his otherwise pleasant company was. Moira, holding the corpse of some starved, mutilated man, came to mind... Hard to keep objective here... His eyes wandered her body again, and he cleared his throat as he continued. "Then let's move on to the Order: what do you know about them?"

"Hardly more than you. I know they hoard knowledge like a cancer on the mind, and their Wardens are each powerful witch-warriors, all three gifted with magical abilities that appear to be hereditary-"

"Three?" John suddenly asked.

Juniluny cocked her head at him again. "Three... what? Don't tell me you didn't even know..." John's annoyed grimace answered her question. "Hah! That shows you more about who you're dealing with then: aye, they've three of them. That redhead's the youngest and weakest of them, too."

"W-What? How much stronger... wait, how do you even know this?"

Juniluny snorted. "I'm not in America for my health, boy... but I've managed to anger those girls enough to catch glimpses, of a mad woman with a spear, of some armored German banshee with an army, and let this wise-halfling tell you: I'm far better off in the land of bison spirits and crazed, new-age cults than anywhere on the same hemisphere as those two."

John shook his head in disbelief, though he knew her words were true. "Crazy... so Moira's not even... huh. Can more than three be made?"

"The Unknown be praised, no... I mean, I hope not." Juniluny shrugged. "The Trinity is what we've always been warned about: either young women of unbelievable power, then their husbands, usually the more violent, angry sort, then their daughters, and so the cycle of our old enemy rolls on. The Cabal would rather let them play their games than interfere."

John nodded, unsure of how to even use the information. Perhaps he'd come to learn it in his lessons next weekend at the Brighton Estate? Of course, first I need to convince Moira to let this one slide... John eyed the halfling with a nod and began to walk towards the entrance.

"Is that it, then?" Juniluny asked as she rose. "I know a bit of their history, too, albeit from the outside-"

"That's alright... besides, right now I've got to talk to Moira and convince her to let you live as my summon."

Juniluny's steps slowed as she followed him. "You're... quite numb in the skull, aren't you? They'd sooner let you marry the Warden than let you have your way."

John tried to suppress his smile at that. "Well, in that case... I think we'll work something out," he declared as he stepped onto the platform. Hell yeah... I've already punished the evil mage, I've found a way to do it without killing her, and... well, I couldn't save her old prisoners... but everyone in the school... except... Kim's ruined body shocked his mind again; in an instant, he found himself questioning his mercy for the halfling. Was he thinking with his cock and curiosity? Didn't she earn whatever the Order had in store? No... and even if she did, Tara didn't... but maybe even Tara... no! What right do I have to carry out such a sentence? I may as well kill them myself if... John shook his head, and Juniluny watched with growing apprehension as her new owner's expression reflected his internal struggle.

"Whatever you're planning... I don't think it'll work, Mr. Newman." Her words were breathed, and her eyes lowered to the platform upon which she had arrived to her new prison.

John eyed the halfling... and all the nuances of a human that kept making him forget the pointed ears, the reason for her stature, or anything else that made Juniluny a fiction. It happened occasionally, even with the elves: John would forget that they were illusions, that their alleged homes in the Abyss were never real, or were elaborate, false constructs like the creatures that suggested they were anything else. For brief seconds, he'd feel the full guilt of a man who enslaved a real person... but dispelling that notion proved harder with Juniluny. She had been earthbound, however one did that. She had lived as a human, among humans, even as she did inhuman things. The Earth was a real past, present, and future for her before John came into her life... and what she chose to do with that past, present, and future was all that kept John from feeling the crippling weight of what he was doing to her or to any of the memorable, but ultimately fictional creatures in his Temple. It required no moral choice to "enslave" a video game character; enslaving Juniluny required a very different question of John. Branding the monsters before her made them more real than they ever could've been; branding Juniluny made her less.

"It will work," John finally declared, almost yelling as his voice echoed in the Temple foyer, "and if I'm wrong, then I'll fix my choice later... but I don't think I am, I don't think the Order's got much of a choice in the matter, and frankly they should be grateful! I saved the Warden! I saved the students, even their secret agent! I caught the bad guy!" He threw his hands up and waved her away in dismissal. "This isn't like the day with Wentworth... Hell, this is more like the day with Dell, and I'm..." He chuckled, nodding his head as he felt a surge of confidence. Juniluny shook her head, but his smile proved infectious. "I'm the hero! No... I'm the Gamer, and I'm still not sure what that means, but so far it's always worked out! I know it seems crazy... but they'll understand."

Achievement unlocked! "Sympathy for the Devil"!
Show a truly sadistic, evil, or subjectively base creature mercy, such that they might yet be redeemed! But probably not.
+3 WIS
+3 CHA

John puffed his chest out as he dismissed the achievement. That's right... if this Game is real life, then I’ve got to be the hero if I want to survive. Whatever I’ve done… it’s been… The panties quest came to mind. … eh, mostly for good causes, or else at least to make me more capable. But this was… a good thing. This was the right path… and I’m sure Moira- Hell, even the Order, will eventually just have to accept it. Even if the Order fought him on it, he reasoned, they'd eventually realize they could do virtually nothing about it... moreover, they owed him, now. One way or the other, the worst of this Monday was finally over.