necroslacker | seattle ; monday FT

Douglas was peering at the coin in James' hand. The coin was attached to a heavy, braided cord that was stained with age and had supposedly once been a hangman's cord. It was the first real thing he'd been able to examine closely since waking up in this state of limbo. James had been his only visitor and Douglas was sincerely hoping this item would mean he could fix both of those issues very soon.

"The previous owner must have had a flair for the dramatic," Douglas said dryly.

James made a noncommittal noise. "If I'm ever in the underworld, I will ask him." He pulled a long silver chain out of his pocket. "I figured you'd want this." He took his knife out, cutting the cord quickly. Once the coin was on the chain, he slipped it over Douglas's head.

Douglas felt an icy resonance when it hit his chest. A hypothermic blast, then feeling, real feeling, and not some ghostly approximation, returned. He stretched his arms out and looked at his hands. Solid. Real. At least as long as the coin was around his neck.

"Where on earth did you obtain a Stygian coin?" If Douglas could sound grateful, he would have sounded grateful right then and there.

James shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Not really. Impressive, though." Douglas stretched, enjoying the feeling of having substance again. The coin was like a tiny silver miracle.

"You're welcome." James sat down on the marble bench of the mausoleum, adjusting his duster as he did so. "My place is here—I should be here with you," he said forcefully.

"That coin should enable you to move more freely, anyway. Though my earlier suggestion still stands." James wasn't one to implore but he wanted to right now.

"Starting over seems a lot like quitting to me, James."

The pukis shifted, looking uncomfortable. "You have a chance at a clean slate. Go anywhere. Be anyone. I beg you, let it go."

"Let my murderer go free? No consequences? Let bygones be bygones, and such rubbish?" Douglas snorted. "I think not. Besides, I'm not willing to throw away all the work I've put into this area. It will take some adjustments, I know, but the removal of a few key obstacles should do the trick." The key obstacles being Brannoc and Sam, of course. It would feel good to get those two off the Council, then once they were safely taken care of, Douglas would emerge and disband what was left. No more governing by democratic discussion. He would rule. And after that, he could start expanding his realm, one piece at a time. The possibilities were endless.

"You were overconfident last time," James said softly.

"He was lucky."

"He might be lucky again."

"I highly doubt that. Did you fulfill your other task? It's about time we started our campaign against one Samhain LaCroix."

James hesitated before answering.

"James."

"I purchased the athame—plain and common, just like you asked, but…"

Douglas tapped his fingers impatiently on the wall of the mausoleum. "Should I be sending my condolences to the LaCroix family or not, James?"

"I thought I would draw it out more. Build the situation up. Spread him—and his resources—even more thin than they are." He looked back at Douglas pleadingly. "Do you see?"

"If you didn't stick her with the knife, then where did you stick it?"

James looked at his feet. "In her door."

"Her bedroom door? Not the front door?"

James nodded. "Yes."

Douglas was quiet for a little while longer before he nodded. "Dramatic. I like it. Let him know you've violated the inner sanctum and that no one is safe. Good."

James nodded and stayed quiet.

"And you're sure the other item, it wasn't there?" Douglas remembered leaving the stone inside the duck long ago. Having it not be there now was...troubling.

"No, Master." He shook his head. "It wasn't and I looked everywhere."

Douglas made a sound of frustration but tempered it. "Ask around. Find it. See if the gnomes have seen anything but be careful about it. Do not let Samhain LaCroix find it."

James nodded.

**

As soon as Sam made it to the Tongue and Buckle, he was unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and pushing his shirt sleeves up. James insisted he dress up for Council meetings but James wasn't here right now to make sure he stayed perfectly put together.

Sean was still in the car, waiting. Backup, he'd said, but he couldn't really go into the meetings with Sam. Sam kind of wished he did. But, Sam was on his own.

The first person he met upon entering the bar was Zeke. Zeke looks like a bodyguard. He's huge—a mass of muscle and sinew. He'd break Sam's neck if he tried, but Sam was pretty sure you could actually grate cheese off his abs. Not that Sam wanted to know about his abs, but his shirt was so tight he could make them out, and he was a lot taller than Sam which makes them hard to miss. Sam had a sudden image of Zeke using his abs to grate his face. Unpleasant.

But, despite all that, Zeke seemed to be afraid of him. It was a feeling that Sam knew well so he nodded briefly at Zeke who waved him through after making sure he hadn't been carrying any weapons on him.

The Council meetings were held in the back and when Sam entered, he took a few next to Brannoc. Brannoc smiled at him, which made Sam feel a little better. Everyone else (especially Kell, the vampire) seemed to be cool on him but no one had tried to kill him yet. So, that was a good thing.

The rest of the Council took their seats: Kell, Pello, the satyr, Ione, the witch, Ariana, the fury and Aengus, who was the bartender and who Sam hadn't really figured out just yet.

Luckily, there wasn't a lot going on this time. Mostly, they were dealing with petitions to move into and out of the the area and Sam found himself roped into a meeting with local sea folk with Kell and Pello. It wasn't too bad but he wasn't always a great person for first contact.

During a break, Sam ordered a soda from the bar and sat there quietly, thinking. Something was gnawing at him, making him think something was seriously going wrong and he hated that he couldn't pinpoint it.

Brannoc came up beside him and took a seat. "How you holding up?"

Sam let the coaster go, watching it fall and settle onto the bar. "I shouldn't be here."

"And why is that?"

"Because I have no idea what I'm doing." Sam rested my chin in my hand. "I'm still trying to figure out how this whole thing works."

"And you're afraid you might screw something up," Brannoc said knowingly.

Sam nodded. He'd already pushed Brid once and he figured that Brannoc didn't know about that since Sam was still alive and all. "There has to be someone better for this thing than me."

"You sure?" Brannoc asked, glancing over at him.

"I'm gonna hurt someone," Sam said, frowning. "I know it."

"Maybe," he said, "but when you're in a position of power, that's always a possibility. People rely on your choices, and sometimes the outcome of those choices isn't favorable and someone suffers because of it. That's life." He put his beer down. "A good leader learns from those mistakes. He doesn't quit out of fear of them."

Sam frowned and looked over at him. He didn't want Brannoc thinking badly of him. "I didn't mean it like that."

Brannoc smiled and said, wisely, "Yes, you did, but that's okay—your fear is natural. What you have to remember, Sam, is that there is always someone who knows more than you, or is stronger than you, but that doesn't always mean that they are better qualified."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "...actually, that does sound like the definition of better qualified."

Aengus came up to us and wiped the bar with a rag. "Whining, though more acceptable from youth, is no less unbecoming."

Brannoc laughed.

"I wasn't trying to whine," Sam said and...realized that he was whining. He grimaced.

"Then you were doing a very good job at accomplishing it without meaning to," Aengus said before stepping away to get someone else a drink.

"Sorry," Sam said apologetically.

Brannoc shrugged. "The person you were describing—more power, more knowledge—could be Douglas."

Sam winced noticeably.

"I know," Brannoc said, "but it makes my point. I encourage you to continue to learn and push yourself, but knowledge and power don't make you good at this, not on their own."

Sam didn't know what to say to that because Brannoc was right and he was intelligent and Sam couldn't help but think the Council deserved another person like him.

Brannoc continued on. "Caring about the people asking you for help, trying to do your best by them, and putting them before your own wants and needs. That is the kind of person who should be on the Council."

Sam scowled and shook his head. "Now, you're just trying to make me feel better."

Brannoc laughed deeply and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "If I was trying to make you feel better, I would have told you to run while you still could."

Sam sighed. "Well, now I feel worse."

[NFB. Lifted, paraphrased and buzzed from Necromancing the Stone. Warning for: post length and Douglas's general creepiness. Open, if needed.]