…uuuuuuuck youuu!

Rudolph’s handcuffs change from a couple dinky steel rings into a beefy set of black iron manacles, chains, and leg irons. Which proceed to wrap Rudy up like a tryhard cosplay of Jacob Marley from the Christmas Carol.

Melkor jerks a thumb, and the chains fly their captive up to one of the two antennas and straps him on tight.

Rudolph is panicking and starts screaming obscenities at Melkor, but they are carried away by the wind. There is a moment of relative peace on the rooftop.

Melkor is pissed. Melkor is also coming up on a big mean high. Melkor is also putting a lot of miles on this meatsuit in not a lot of time.

I think I’m done being “what’s behind door number 1.” I can’t just keep taking potshots from assholes with lightning guns, or… bazookas that shoot truck tires, or whatever the fuck.

He catches his breath, then pulls a Bubblegum Chick and turns invisible.

He also makes an illusory double who sprints to the edge of the roof under Rudolph and jumps off, just to fuck with him.

Rudolph gapes, and his body goes slack in despair.

A drone slowly approaches the tower, cameras aimed at the rooftop. It hovers in the shadow of the other antenna.

Melkor paces restlessly. He’s still flicking a diamond down onto the street every so often, just in case anyone’s checking.

I took down a detective. I could absolutely take down the CPD. I could take down 10 CPDs piloting mechs all standing on top of each other in a trenchcoat. I fucked up Valinor and Beleriand till there was no up left to fuck. Chicago’s got nothing on me. NOTHING.

His tongue tastes like he licked a car battery. He’s favoring one leg. Everything smells like soot and tastes like ash.

“I beg you Brother: do not invade this strange world alone.”

A thick, laughing baritone contributes. “We are four that have been drug already into the void. The Corrupter is a fine-fettled foe, even weakened, even bound. He must be not chased, but crushed!”

The bearer of Angainor shakes his head. “He is my prisoner; I am his warden. To level wrath upon an innocent plane is the work of the one we must detain; my work is to ensure justice done justly. No less. No more.”

The bearer grips the white hot charm tight in his palm. “Await me here. You must safeguard the void in case our quarry turns tail.”

“I must ride alone.”

Melkor is huddled in a corner of the roof out of the wind with one eye on the open doorway. He’s having a whispered conversation with an important ally.

“I still think that if divide-and-conquer was good enough for Napoleon Teaches Math, it’s good enough for Chicago.”

“Oh Melkor, I’m so attracted to your brash overconfidence and laser-sharp grasp of history.” She tosses her hair back. “Kiss me, kiss me you fool!”

Melkor pulls back. “Cool it, Mess. First we take apart all these Orders and Powers who think they’re gonna get a slice of the deep-dish pie. Then we can fool around all we want on top of their graves.”

Quiet footsteps from the stairwell, and someone clears their throat nervously. It is a young man in priest’s robes. He is fidgety.

Melkor takes off his ally and stuffs it in his pocket. This guy’s looking favorable in Melkor’s “getting coin vs getting shot” algorithm.

From the safety of the shadows, he calls out to robe boy.

”Yooooooooooooo.”

“I have what you want!” The kid shouts, trying and failing to sound like he’s done this before. “Show me the diamonds!”

A Nalgene that’s like 95% full of diamonds floats toward the priestling at about chest height, as if carried securely in the arms of an invisible man.

He looks very freaked out, but gamely draws forth a ziploc containing a white handkerchief with silver embroidery that’s folded around something coinlike.

I bet the coin is right there in that coin-sized bag.

“Catch, kid!” The Nalgene shoots up in an lobbing arc that would take it over the kid’s head and land it just behind him… this gives him about 50/50 odds of getting it in the air vs having to crawl after it.

In yet another snatch-and-grab move, Melkor reaches out and grabs the ziploc while robe guy is distracted. Then he rips open the side of the bag, pulls out the holy hankie, and shakes out the coin into an outstretched palm.

“Oh thank fuck,” Meciel’s voice says in his mind. Immediately, the pain in his foot eases and the foul taste in his mouth is replaced by a fresh fruity flavor.

The young priest bobbles it twice but manages to keep hold of the nalgene. “Um, pleasure doing business with you,” he forces out quickly, then bolts for the stairs.

“Uh, hey Meciel.” He scuffs a shoe against the roof. “Sorry I kind of got you kidnapped by the murder squad for no reason.”

He smacks his lips pleasantly. “Is that… papaya?”

“Do try not to let it happen again, but yes, I forgive you, Melkor.” An illusory breeze brushes his cheek. An illusory papaya cocktail with a little umbrella appears in his hand. “Thank you for finding me again so quickly.” He can feel her rifling through his memories of the evening. “Hopefully you didn’t have to do anything too crazy to get the coin back.”

“Eh, I basically did the first thing that I thought of and it worked.”

He lights an e-cig.

“By the way, do you know how to cure snakebites? Asking for a friend.”

“Wait you did what?” Her illusion appears in front of him, aghast. “Aaaaaaa. You probably have no idea how many hornet nests you’ve kicked over on this one. You basically sent out a beacon saying ‘hey I’m new in town but I’m a powerful meddler’ to everyone who has a stake in the city. Our dance card is going be full to the brim for the foreseeable future.” She takes a breath. “I think we need to cloak your aura and get out of here as soon as possible. I’m surprised you haven’t already gotten more overt trouble than that buffoon.” She jerks a finger at Rudolph.

“Can’t kill a bunch of hornets if you don’t kick their nests first.” He taps a finger against his temple, tilts his head forward slightly, and scrunches up his face to emphasize the genius of his statement.

Grudgingly, he adds “…but you know this town better than I do. If you think we should take a long rest and replenish our spell slots before mxrderfxcking everybody, I’m in.” Super grudgingly.

“Oh, now you want to throw down with everyone?”

He just does this look. The look in the image here. It’s his fuck all y’all I’m fucking Melkor look, and it means that he means business and that he’s gonna enjoy it.