The Jazz Masquerade

Part Two: Orphan Temptations

the 55^th tale of agc

written and created by Mark Bousquet

2201 / JUNE

ASGARD - THE QUARTERS OF STEVE ROGERS

Dani Moonstar led Cable into Steve Rogers' Asgardian house. They were here to discuss with him the request by the Council for him to come before them, so that they could discuss the possibility of Steve becoming the new Thor. That none even considered the possibility that Steve couldn't raise Mjolnir was testament to the respect each member of the Council had for him. "Steve?" she called, but received no answer.

"I thought he was supposed to be here," Cable said, looking around at the near empty quarters.

"He was," Dani said, frowning.

A voice came from out of nowhere. "He's gone." Cable's hand went to his gun, but Dani steadied him.

"And you're lurking invisibly about his quarters, Skrull 4."

The Skrull Ambassador appeared before them, looking frail in his plain, brown cloak. "I came here after a private meeting with King William. Steve was not feeling well. In fact, Moonstar," 4 leveled his gaze, "his condition was much worse than you have led us to believe."

Dani's back tightened. "He did not want anyone to know."

"Pity for him," Skrull 4 replied, his voice a raspy whisper. "You are on the Council, Dani. We should have been told."

Dani did not know how to react. She had never heard Skrull 4 talk to her - or anyone, short of Ash'lin - like this. "Are you here to lecture me, Ambassador?"

"No," Skrull 4 answered, walking slowly towards them. "I have stayed here to deliver a message to you, from Steve. He has gone."

"Where?" Dani asked.

Skrull 4 reached inside his robes to hand her a picture. "Ben-Vell was here when I arrived. He had given this to Steve. It is a recent photo, taken by Kree intelligence."

"Why wasn't the Council made aware of this?" Dani asked as she reached for the picture.

"Ben-Vell was under orders to tell America first," he replied. "After they explained to me who it was, they left to tell King William. Steve told me to tell you he was sorry, Moonstar. He would try to find you," his eyes glanced quickly to Cable, "but he was uncertain where you would be, and he could not wait. Time was of the essence."

Cable asked, "What would make him leave so quickly?"

"Oh no," Dani said suddenly beside him, gasping as she finally looked at the image contained in the photo. "How recent was this image taken?"

Skrull 4 answered, "Ben-Vell relayed the Supreme Intelligence was just made aware of it this morning, but that it was taken last week."

"Who is it?" Cable asked, curious and agitated.

Dani handed him the photograph as her body shook. "It is the only being in the Everything that truly frightens me." She paused, gaining a hold of herself, but before she could talk, an image of King William appeared in the air before them.

"Citizens of Asgard, this is your King," Beta Ray Bill said in a commanding tone. "Listen well, my friends. Asgard is under attack. Prepare the city's defenses. Ambassadors, we will convene in the Eye at once."

THE BLISS

The music was a mix of jazz and classical stylings, underscored by a thumping techno beat. It should not have worked, yet somehow, it did to all in attendance.

Attumidunn had already lost all contact with Brono, Angelica, and Eshir amidst the swirling mass of sights and sensations inside the Jazz Masquerade. That was fine with her; she wanted some time away. Brono had even told them to enjoy themselves, that if there was ever a time to cut loose, this was it. The driving music, cut with a dazzling light show that poured down on them from the cloud covered ceiling above, seemed to contract and expand vision all at once. She wore an elegant dress that revealed ample portions of her aqua-colored flesh, an intricate weaving of the finest fabrics. She felt naked when she had put it on, but now, looking out at the people around her, she felt over-dressed. Brono had told them they would see and feel things here that they had never experienced, and he was right.

Toomi was glad she wore a mask.

They were here to search for the Celestial Messiah, a man called Rahnotok. He was her half-brother, though they had never met. They shared a mother - Luna, the Celestial Madonna, though while she was the product of rape, Rahnotok was the result of a great and storied romance between Luna and a Cotati man.

"Excuse me, my dear," a voice came to her from her left. She turned to see a grotesque-looking Deviant. He was tall - perhaps eight feet - with scaly green skin that oozed a foul-stenched fluid. He had six eyes scattered about his face (at least, that was what she could see through his mask), and four hands, each with more than ten fingers. And he was fat, almost as large as Volstagg at the end, before he lost his life in the Battle of Niffleheim against the Olympians. Her first thought was to reach for her sword and end the Deviant's life, but there was no sword at her side, and she remembered Brono's words - all were welcome here at the Jazz Masquerade.

"Yes?" she forced a stiff smile, her mouth the only visible portion of her face. Despite the loud music, no one ever needed to shout to be heard. Another mystery of the Masquerade.

"I was wondering if you would like to join our party," the Deviant grumbled politely, motioning behind him. Toomi could see a group of eight women, lounging half-naked on a small rise in the carpeted floor, feeding each other ripe fruit that oozed juice at the slightest touch. The room was spotted with these small stages, and they made Toomi very uncomfortable for some reason she couldn't understand. She did, after all, generally enjoy it when eyes were upon her. "We are going to perform," the Deviant continued, turning back to her, "an ancient ritual of the … well, of some alien race. Gods if I can remember their name."

Toomi smiled despite herself. There was an unmistakable charm to this creature. "What kind of ceremony?" she asked.

"Oh, a wonderful one," the Deviant's eyes sparkled as they roamed over her body. "It is called the Blooding of Fruit in the common tongue. Do you see the older woman in the middle?" Toomi nodded. "She is a Scarlet Witch, from Earth. Have you heard of that sect?"

"No, I haven't."

"Very powerful, very dangerous," the Deviant smiled down at her. "They practice the dark magic of the hex. Very complex."

"I am sorry," Toomi smiled, thinking of K'Zan, "but I am unfamiliar with most forms of magic. Did you say she was from Earth?"

"Yes, yes I did," the Deviant clasped his hands together, sending a wave of his foul smell towards Toomi. "Hex magic is based on probabilities. Very cutting edge. A Scarlet Witch has never before performed the Blooding of Fruit." He leaned in close. "It will be quite a show. I would be honored if you were part of it."

"What would I have to do?"

The Deviant grinned broadly, placing two of his hands behind his back. "I will lay down, naked, in the center of the stage, and the women will first bathe me with fruit as the Scarlet Witch begins her spell-casting. Then the women will take up their ceremonial blades and gently slice me open along the veins in my arms, legs, torso, and face." Toomi felt her stomach knot. "They will refrain from the main veins, of course, don't want to kill me! Ha-ha!"

Toomi forced a smile, hoping it didn't reveal the horror she felt inside.

"Then as the magic builds - all very dramatic - the women will squeeze the juice from the various fruits into my bloodstream and then …" the Deviant paused, looked troubled. "Then I'm not really certain. I'll probably have passed out by them from the loss of blood and incense. Did I mention the incense? No? All very dramatic."

"And what," Toomi forced, "will be the end result of all this?"

A smile returned to the Deviant's face. "Besides the show we'll put on? The Blooding of Fruit remakes a person into a new image. The fruit is supposed to allow the flesh and bone to become malleable, and the women will push and shape my body into a new form."

"What form is that?"

"Hell if I know! Ha!" the Deviant roared. "But they've all promised to get rid of this awful ooze that pours from my skin. During the sexing, you see-"

"The sexing?" Toomi asked, starting to feel even more lost.

"Oh, yes," the Deviant looked troubled. "Did I forget the sexing? Yes, well, you see, the subject - me - is reshaped in the image of the Witch's helpers. Now, they don't have to have sex, of course," he grinned as he leaned in close, revealing yellow-stained teeth, and there doesn't have to be ten of them, and they don't have to all be women. But I like women. Love women," he winked at Toomi. "But this is the Jazz Masquerade, after all, so it needs to be a show for the people to watch! Who wants to watch a simple ceremony of bodyshaping? Boring. Booooooring! I've decided to trust the women to remake me in the image they desire. The incense -did I mention the incense? - the incense will help fuel their sex drive, making their passions grow as they slice into my skin. By the time I have passed out, and the reshaping is occurring, they will be engaged in a wild, passionate orgy on top and around me. It will be quite dramatic." The Deviant looked over to the women, then back to Attumidunn. "So, my dear, would you like to join us?"

Toomi swallowed hard, trying to remember her manners. No one, Brono had told them, must be overly judgmental at the Jazz Masquerade for there is no surer sign that a person doesn't belong at the ball than harshly passing judgment over another's desires. If you were approached to do something you did not want to do, Toomi remembered, you were to tell them, "Perhaps later, or some other time. Though I will be certain to watch."

"Ah, my heart is wounded!" the Deviant over-acted, two of his hands grasping his heart, and the other two going to his forehead, all the while a smile played across his face.

"I beg your forgiveness," Toomi continued the formal response, "but my desires lie elsewhere."

"Of course, of course," the tall Deviant turned his six eyes back to her. "I only hope that you enjoy the Blooding of Fruit ceremony, and that I am in shape to watch your engage in your own desires, my dear …"

"Attumidunn," she replied.

"Lovely name," the Deviant smiled. "I am Chin'po. Adieu!"

And with that, Chin'po the Deviant turned his attention elsewhere, leaving a very confused Valkyrie standing by herself amidst a wild display of sin. She wondered how the others were making out.

ASGARD - OBSERVATORY OF ODIN THE ONE-EYE

The Observatory of Odin the One-Eye was, by double, the tallest structure in all of Asgard at ten stories. It was a tower made of pristine white marble, four large white legs curving slightly as they rose high into the air. At the top was the observatory, a clear glass room from which you could see the entire expanse of Asgard. The four columns that gave the Eye structure met at what would be the eighth floor, then continued past each other, creating the nest that held the glass observatory - the Eye. The floor of the Eye was green and white marble, and on it's expensive surface stood the Ambassadors of the Council.

Beta Ray Bill let Ash'lin of the Shi'ar, Kovar the Accuser of the Kree, Skrull 4 of the scattered Skrulls, Dani Moonstar the Valkyrie, representing Asgard, and Nathan Dayspring Summers, the time-traveler known as Cable, who now represented Earth at the Council's table, take in the view before them. Bill felt the loss of both Balder and Steve Rogers from Councils of War such as this, and he hoped Steve and Ben-Vell would find the man they sought out their in the vastness of space.

Coming across the Plains of Ida were five small regiments: one of Earth demons, one of Set's troops, one of Olympians, one of Deviants, and one of Angelux. They marched slowly, and in tight formations, their colors of war flying in the breeze upon their regiments' flags. At the rear of the troops, commanding them in this mission, was a woman dressed in the clothes of Hydra, the former Earth terrorist group.

"Thoughts?" King William asked.

"A display of power," Kovar said. "Doom is alerting us to the strength of his now varied army. This is not an all-out assault. Note their commander, in the back. A member of Hydra, Thanos' cloned class of officers. Highly skilled. Created and trained from the blood of the Von Struckers. Highly competent, of course, but it is telling that he would choose Hydra to lead this assault and not one of his generals. This is not an attack meant to end the struggle."

"Agreed," Dani nodded. "Though with our defenses weakened in the wake of the Battle of Niffleheim …"

"Our defenses will hold," King William assured. "Though I fear we cannot go much longer without asking for help. Our numbers were greatly diminished during the most recent Olympian conflict." He turned his attention to the Ambassadors, and away from Dani's scowl. He knew she disapproved of what he was about to do. "Ambassadors to the Council, Asgard requests 500 of your finest troops to fortify the defenses of the Golden Realm."

Kovar nodded. "The Supreme Intelligence has been expecting this request. We can have 3000 troops in Asgard in three days."

Bill nodded. "Thank your Supremor for Asgard, Kovar, but 500 will suffice, for now."

"I cannot guarantee your requested number, King William," Skrull 4 said from within his robes. "Nor can I promise the Skrulls who come have the strength in combat that the Kree troops possess, but I am certain there are many Skrull warriors scattered about the Everything who would gladly come to the defense of Asgard."

Bill nodded his thanks, then turned to Ash'lin.

"Five hundred troops is but a pittance of the strength of the Shi'ar, King William," Ash'lin asserted strongly. "Though if Asgard cannot pull its weight and defend its territory, Chandilar would gladly welcome the seat of the Council for its new home."

"Like hell," Dani spat. "The Council stays here, that is the agreement."

"Of course it does, Valkyrie," Ash'lin bowed slightly in mock deference. "But surely the Council must be safe, and there is no doubt any longer that Chandilar is the strongest fortified of all our empires."

"That will not be necessary," Bill stepped in, stopping their argument. "Though we thank you for the troops, Ash'lin, and the offer of relocation." He turned to Cable. "I am sorry to ask this of Earth, Ambassador, given that your planet has only recently returned to the Council in strength. If you are unable-"

"I can ask," Cable said honestly, but not kindly. "I don't know if the United League of Nations will spare 500 of its troops, but I will pass along your request."

"Thank you," Bill replied. "I am certain that-"

His words were cut off by a barrage of light flashes coming from the advancing army. The Eye was soundproof, allowing for war councils to have the quiet they needed to contemplate the strategies of battle.

Bill walked to the window, noted that the firing came from the regiment of Set. "It seems the battle has begun. Dani, you are excused. Go to your troops and lead the forward arm of our defenses."

THE BLISS

As the music pulsed and swan about the room, Eshir was finding it harder and harder to stay focused on finding the Celestial Messiah. He looked down at the drink in his hand and found, to his surprise, a half-empty glass. Odd, he thought, not having remembered taking even a sip of this drink.

At first, he was upset that the masks Brono had given them would only cover their eyes and nose, leaving the lower half of their face exposed. For Eshir, that meant his scarred left cheek would be on sight for all to see.

When the first woman - a barely dressed Eternal, he believed - had touched his cheek as he walked by, Eshir thought he was being made the butt of someone's joke. Not so. Wherever he walked across the floor, he found men and women touching his face with their hands, or even more strangely, grabbing his arms to rub the stump where his hands should have been, offering him a place at their table, stage, or curtained off area. Still, even with the apparent flattery, the back of his mind kept warning him that he was being made fun of by some unseen opponent.

That's when he saw the orgy taking place over the body of a heavily bleeding Deviant.

It was only months ago that Eshir had seen Franklin Richards return to life and stand toe-to-toe with the Planet Devourer Galactus. But this, in its way, was just as unbelievable. A nearly eight foot tall Deviant, fat as twenty pigs, whose green flesh oozed the foulest of stenches, was laying naked on his back on a small carpeted rise. About him, nine women - all gorgeous, it seemed to Eshir - altternated slicing into him with daggers as they engaged each other sexually. Above them, a priestess chanted dark spells as incense wafted over and through them.

"It is called the Blooding of Fruit."

Eshir turned and fell in love. "Um …" was all he could say to the young woman beside him. Though it was hard to tell exactly how old she was with her make, he guessed her age to be slightly younger than his own twenty-three years. There was something about her eyes, peering at him mischievously through the eyeholes of her mask that drowned him instantly. Her bare shoulders and lithe figure were almost overwhelming. There was something about her that was intoxicating in a way he couldn't quite place, something familiar about her, maybe? Esh couldn't say, but there was something about her that made him feel …

"Um?" she smiled wickedly. "Not the best pick-up line I have ever heard," she said, then quickly changed her tone from mischievous to sincere. "By the darkness, you have the loveliest blue-grey eyes I have ever seen,"

"Um," Esh shook his head. "I mean, thank you." Angry at himself, he glanced back to performance. "What is it you called this ceremony?"

"The Blooding of Fruit," the girl grinned, turning to look at the stage. As she described the ceremony to him, Eshir stood slightly behind her, captivated by her mouth, her jaw, the softness of her skin. Yes, he thought to himself. That's it. She's soft. She looks untouched by the harshness of life. Even Angelica and Toomi, as much as they had been sheltered from the Eternal War by Brono, had a firmness to their body that could only be gained through the hard lives they had led. But this girl … nothing but a soft and delicate-

"Are you even interested in the ceremony, or shall we simply cease with the idle rambling and find a bed?"

Eshir was snapped out of his thoughts. He felt very … strange. Was he … intoxicated?

"Allow me to take that, sir," a robotic voice said at his side, reaching for Eshir's empty glass. "Another?" the tuxedoed servant offered a tray of exotic and colorful drinks.

"But … I didn't … I mean, I don't remember …"

The girl stepped in, reaching for a pint of a bubbly, neon green drink and a smaller tea cup filled with a steaming brown liquid. "Thank you, good sir," she said to the servant, who moved along. She handed Eshir the green drink. "This is what you were drinking, was it not?"

Eshir looked at her strangely, feeling a deep warmth about his body. "I don't even remember taking a sip of that drink."

The girl laughed. "Ah, I thought so. You're a first timer." She wrapped her arm in his and began to lead him away from the Blooding of Fruit. "Listen to me talk, as if I have been here a hundred times." She leaned up close to his ear, whispering to him, "In truth, it is only my sixth time at the Masquerade, and my first in over a year. My world is not an easy one, and my mother keeps sending me off-planet to various schools for my safety. Peaceful worlds - blah." She took a careful swallow of her steaming tea. "Enough of that," she said, wrinkling her nose. "You see, you don't need to drink to drink at the Masquerade. The glasses are designed to secrete the beverages inside directly into your skin."

"Really?" Eshir asked, feeling stupid.

"Really," the girl mocked. "Tell me," she smiled up at him, "do you even know the drink you were drinking without drinking?"

"No clue," Eshir said, smiling at her word play.

The girl shook her head, and her long strawberry-blonde hair bounced beautifully from side-to-side down her back. "It is a Shi'ar drink. Very nasty."

"Nasty?" Eshir asked, completely unaware that Angelica brushed by him as she walked the other way, eyeing him with concern. He took a big gulp of his pint. "It's fruity. Not nasty at all."

The girl's smile grew even wider as she steered them across the floor towards a large section of dark red curtains. "You are a dear, aren't you? Tell me your name."

"Eshir."

"Licia," she revealed hers, kissing him on the scarred cheek. "The Shi'ar give that drink to their slaves, Eshir, because it makes them passive and agreeable as it heightens their sexual awareness."

Eshir looked at Licia and smiled. "No, they don't."

"But they do." She cocked her head to the side, returning his smile, then leaning up to kiss him gently on the lips. "You're in love with me, aren’t you?"

Eshir blushed. "Um, of course not."

Licia grinned, pulling Eshir into the wall of curtains. "The servants of the Masquerade would never allow anyone here to get the drink in the dosage the Shi'ar use, of course, unless they specifically asked for it. We are all here for our own pleasures, not to be abused by others. Some, of course, want to be drugged and used, but unless you asked for it, they would never serve it to you unawares."

"So why do you think I'm in love with you?" Eshir asked as they moved through a hallway marked off by the red velvet curtains around them.

"They way you look at me," Licia whispered as they came together in a deep, long kiss. "The Jazz Masquerade has a way of revealing to us what we desire. The drinks that were offered you by the servants were all to heighten your arousal. You must long for the touch only love can provide." She kissed his scarred cheek. "Not simply sex with a stranger, but love. The drink helps you to realize what you want. You spurned the advances of eight women before I came to you, Eshir, so you know that if you did not want this, deep down inside of your soul, that you could not be forced back here. A part of your brain, the logical half, knows you do not love me, knows that there are chemicals running havoc with your biological systems, knows that yes, you find me attractive, but no, you are not the kind to instantly fall in love with a new girl, no matter how beautiful she is." She smiled. "Do you find me beautiful?"

Eshir felt weak as Licia ran her hands over his shoulders and chest. "Yes. Of course."

"I have been watching you, Eshir, since you arrived. At first, I feared you were involved with one of the women. After that was erased, I gave half a thought to pursuing Brono, but there was something about you … my mother is a very powerful woman, Eshir." Licia pushed Eshir through an unrevealed opening in the curtain into a large circular room that contained nothing but a large, round bed, laden with pillows. "Many seek to harm her. When men and women are brought before her for the crime of arrogance, she cuts off their hands." Licia kissed him, and ran her hands over Eshir's lower arms. "How did you lose your hands?"

"A wolf," Eshir answered, not wanting to talk about it. "When I was young."

"A half-pity," she whispered, leading him to the bed. "The rebellious side of my nature hoped that you would have had a personal connection to my mother. But the Masquerade can not provide us with all that we desire at all times."

Licia leaned up and removed his mask. She ran her delicate fingers across his face. "You are very handsome." She kissed him. "Remove my mask."

Eshir reached out gently and did as she bade him. "By the gods you are beautiful," he whispered, finding her face somewhat familiar. The logical part of his brain, just before it completely surrendered to the passions of his heart, wanted to know who Licia looked like, but, in truth, in the presence of such beauty, it didn't really care.

Together, they moved onto the bed.

ASGARD - OBSERVATORY OF ODIN THE ONE-EYE

"It does not make sense!" Ash'lin swore.

"It makes perfect sense," Kovar replied.

Kovar, Ash'lin, Skrull 4, Brono, and Cable stood in the Eye and watched as Doom's varied regiments fought defensively against the Valkyrior. For the past two hours, the Ambassadors watched the regiments send long-range attacks hurtling towards the city, but did not press their advance.

"Doom sends five regiments to attack Asgard, yet they simply stand there, on the Plains, and take the battering that the Valkyrior drops onto them? How does that make sense?"

"Do not forget," Kovar dug into Ash'lin, "that your background is political, not military. I do not think Doom means to destroy Asgard with these forces, but rather to test our defenses."

"Bah!" Ash'lin threw up her hands.

Cable cleared his throat. "What you all must remember about Victor Von Doom is that everything he does is for a specific reason, to get a specific reaction. We can all see this is not an all-out assault. So why is he doing it?" Cable's face grew dark. "With Doom, you're not likely to know why until after you've done it and he springs the trap on you." He turned to King Bill. "An attack like this … my guess is that he's trying to sneak something into Asgard through a back door while we're all watching the front door."

Almost ashamedly, the Ambassadors turned to look out through the glass walls of the Eye behind them, expecting to see something.

Cable's voice was quiet and heavy. "Doom doesn't just have a great political mind, or a great military mind. He's got both, in spades." He turned to look at Ash'lin, Kovar, and Skrull 4. "You're going to hear all about the genius of Doom from those of us who know him. You'll think, after a while, that no one can be what we make him out to be." Cable turned to look back towards the battle. "When this is over, you'll wonder why we didn't say more."

THE BLISS

Angelica watched Toomi watching the Blooding of Fruit ceremony, wondering why she seemed so interested.

She watched Eshir being led off into the back curtains, where she knew private chambers were cordoned off to allow intimacy to those who did not want to make a public display of their activities. Did she feel a pang of jealousy at seeing Eshir being led off like that? Angelica pushed the thought from her mind.

She watched Brono sweet talk one woman after another in his search for Rahnotok. Of course, she noted, sweet talking for Brono entailed little more than him saying hello and then trying to stay out of the way as every woman in ear shot fell over themselves to get to him. It was clear, however, he didn't trust the Orphans to do much detecting. It was just as well, she thought, we could all use some time to cut loose.

"You're not having fun, darling."

Angelica turned to see an older man - human by the looks of it - standing near her. He had a drink in one hand and was idly tossing a ruby in the other. He wore nearly all black - boots, leather pants, silk shirt, small cape. On his chest she could make out part of a tattoo - looked like a pentagram but she could only see a small part of it so she couldn't be certain. When the man saw that he had Angelica's attention, he pocketed the ruby.

"I'm having a great time," Angelica countered icily.

"Tell me," the man said, coming close to her. "Did Brono tell you that all were welcome here?"

"How do you know Brono?" she asked.

The man smiled. "So he did. Excellent. That makes me very happy, you see. I wouldn’t want you to try and stop me, Ms. Osborn."

Angelica's face tightened. "How do you know me?"

"Oh," the man smiled, "I know nearly everyone." He bowed to her, "I am Daimon Hellstrom, the Son of Satan and current ruler of Earth's Hells. What's more, Angelica, I know that you seek power, that your dreams are filled with images of raising Mjolnir off the ground and becoming infused with the power of Thor."

"I don't-"

"Of course you do," he placed a hand on her shoulder that made her skin crawl. "So tell me, would you like to become an Angelux?"

"Absolutely not."

"Of course you would say that. Of course," the man grinned. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. "But what if I told you that if you partook in my ceremony, and became an Angelux, I would deliver to your friends the exact location of the Celestial Messiah?"

Angelica pushed herself away, "You don't know where he is."

"Don’t I?" he asked, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the ruby and showed it to Angelica. "Do you know what I keep in this ruby?"

"Your pitchfork?"

Daimon laughed. "Witty banter. Splendid. No, my darling, look closer. Yes, gaze upon the image of a soul trapped for eternity, screaming in desperation for release. Would you like to know the woman's name?" he asked, tossing the ruby casually into the air. "It's Patsy Walker." He smiled, and Angelica felt a coldness grow inside her. "My wife."

Daimon turned to walk away. "I do hope you'll be around this evening, Angelica. I'm going to free Hellcat's soul."

"How kind of you."

"Kind?" Daimon laughed. "Ms. Osborn, I'm going to turn her into an Angelux general so that she may serve Doom. It will be a pity to give her up, of course, but we all must make sacrifices in war. Remember my offer, Angelica. It is an open offer. I do believe there will come a day when you wish to take me up on this."

The Jazz Masquerade to be continued …

The Jazz Masquerade has a way of revealing to us what we desire.

YGGDRASIL

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Mark Bousquet

Northern Bear Productions

20 January 2003