1963-10-03 - Celestially-delivered Parcels
Summary: Dr. Strange accepts long-due packages and new information from Eito.
Related: [http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-10-01-you-ve-got-the-wrong-number]
Theme Song: None
eito strange 


The problem with divine orders, is often the folks giving them. No really, very often those handing them out are a little too removed to foresee exactly how they might be taken. Take Eito, for instance. He asked about the Hellmouth, his orders in return? "Make a dent." No really, could she have been any more vague? Unfortunately for the assholes trying to claw their way out of hell, Kitsune are by their nature inclined to want to please their Mother Goddess. So make a dent, well he's been working on that for more than a week and shit. He's been making more than a dent, he's left a swath of the slain in his wake. Tonight then, well this is no different.

They call this particular kind of demonic asshole a "Burned Man", to be specific. Warriors calling up from the reaches of Siberia, who were caught raping and murdering the wrong people. So they force fed them hot coals until they died, and the only way to get out of this sentence? Kill a thousand men, and no shit that's not going to be that hard if these assholes get out of Central Park. Ancient cloth armor over what remains of their skeletons, and a skull wreathed in brilliant pink flame. Fast, utterly motivated and unfortunately often very experienced. So yeah even Eito needs to spend a little time with one of these chucklefucks.
The fight's not -quite- finished yet, but it's getting there. However those beacons someone set up, yeah they've been crossed and re-crossed like ninety times by now and it's ongoing. Bursts of automatic gunfire, followed by the swish of swordplay and curses shouted in languages mankind has forgotten ages ago. It's quite the freak fight, if we're honest.


He slams the gating shut behind him with a curt dismissive gesture and immediately begins striding over to this ridiculous-looking fight that's happening just along the edges of his wards. The chiming has been INCESSANT and Strange has had it up to HERE with it. Yes, the spell is working beautifully - yes, he forgot to install an off-switch.

The crimson Cloak ripples behind him from the speed of his approach and his hands are already gloved in a whopper of an offensive spell. The Sorcerer Supreme is running a bit low on patience right now.

"GLACITRABEM!!!", he roars, and three of the demonic assholes - he knows the species from literature on ancient Far Eastern lore, but not precisely what they are - are caught off-guard by a beam of frostbitten air. It knocks them tumbling, sheeting them in hoarfrost, and granting the lone swordsman a brief reprieve as the demons recognize the approach of another strong enemy.

But - and Strange holds back his next spell, eyes narrowing intently on the swordsman - this is no ordinary being. That…that's one of the Goddess's messengers, of Far Eastern origin as well: Kitsune.


It's not a man, the legs are wrong, hell there are tails (two of them) and fur and a fox head and yeah. A fox-guy of some description, but thats not the important part. Over all that white fluff he's dressed in a coal black Kimono, and proper bright glossy red armor overtop of that. The point of divergence then, would be the magazine pouches bolted onto that armor, and the Tommy gun slung across his back. There's a pistol at his right side, a pair of swords at the left. Goodness even a pair of frag grenades framing a bit of Kanji scrawled across that chest plate. Interesting, sure.

The show stopper is as always, that mask. A fox mask obviously inspired by noh theater, and designed to actually fit onto an actual fox's face it seems. It glows, and that's no mere glamour spell here. No that thing is composed of pure moonlight, bent and shaped by no mortal hands surely. An award then, a gift from a Moon goddess. Though it's splattered with blood and claw marks,it's got to be some sort of important signal because there are entire religions built upon lesser artifacts of divinity than that mask alone.

In anycase the fox skids to a halt, panting hard under all that armor before resheathing it's blade with an artful flick of the wrist. Then it turns to give the good doctor a moment of silent study. "How fortunate, I have messages to deliver to you."The voice is, well audible but there's no movement of the mouth. "Please, your title just to confirm my suspicions?"


Strange's own suspicions as to this being's origins are confirmed when it too, asks after his mantle in order to assuage its own. Kitsune indeed! Somewhere, deep within, he's delighted to have met the legendary being in-person. The written word does not do its mask, seemingly of woven moonlight, any sort of justice whatsoever.

Once he's looked beyond the Kitsune's shoulders, making sure that the demonic assholes are down for the count and not regrouping for an attempt at a dagger between shoulder-blades, his steel-blue gaze flicks back. "Dr. Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of Earth," he replies neutrally, and grants the Kitsune a respectful nod of his head. "What messages does the Goddess choose to send to me?"


There is no bowing, because this is business yo. Straight business fox here. No he just gives a nod, and reaches behind his chest plate to produce a slip of paper covered in runes. There's a moment of whispering, before it gets real. There's a ripple, a roll of big juju. That momentary flash is a sliver of proper godly might made manifest, in a flash of light Eito produces the day's mail. A pair of well, book shaped cardboard boxes and a single scroll.

"I am the 87nth Kitsune, divine messenger of the Honored High Goddess Inari and humble servant to The Divine Court of the East. These messages were addressed not to you Doctor, but to your station as Sorcerer Supreme. I am afraid their delivery has been delayed by many years, due to the death of my predecessor. For this I most humbly apologize."And so he approaches, before offering the packages over. "When this more official business has concluded to your satisfaction, I would beg your indulgence further. I have a matter of some import, though it is largely unrelated to my position."

So what are we talking about here? Well there's a first copy edition of the Malleus Maleficarum, complete with handwritten scribbles in the margin from seems to have been it's author. A box of, what is that slivers of burnt bone? Heck the scroll is the most confusing of all, the script is magnificent and it indeed does seem to come from Inari-kami herself. However the contents are confusing, because well in what looks like ancient Tibetan it's just the word for "Maybe", followed by her signature.


The icy offensive spell is dismissed entirely and Strange's hands retreat within the confines of his folded arms as he watches this 87th Kitsune, divine messenger of Inari, summon up the mail he's apparently - no, wait, his mantle has been missing - for…years, the being said?

First, the old book, and he recognizes it after a moment of pensive looking it over. OH! Oh, what a gem! He'll have to get it back to the Sanctum as fast as possible. The box contains…huh - bone? They look like wyvern toothpicks and he gives a ho-hum sort of nod as he closes it up once again to stick it under one arm. And then there's the scroll. Oh…it's been a while since he's seen that dialect. He carefully unrolls it all of the way to its bottom and is left to acknowledge the utter vaguery of the Goddess's last written thought before he looks up at the Kitsune over the top edge of the scroll.

"And the other matter of import?" he asks as he rolls up the scroll with delicate precision, half an ear on the Kitsune's answer.


"I had an interesting encounter with a mortal spellcaster, a voodoo practitioner to be more specific."The Kitsune offers a glance over his shoulder, before casually letting a hand drop to rest on that pair of swords. "She was attempting to summon a, Papa Legba who I have not met myself. I understand him to be a teacher of a kind, however that is beyond my ken. Her summoning circle was fantastically ill formed, and it is luck alone that delivered me instead of someone far worse."A pause as he glances back towards strange. "There was no barrier to speak of, but she is no fool. She professes to have visions of the future, of things beyond mortal knowing. Likewise the amount of power needed to have summoned me in spite of her circle, very significant."

Eito lets that nugget hang out there for a moment, before with a swish of those tails he continues. "She is without a teacher, though it appears she was taught formally at one point in the past. She is living on the streets like filth, and utterly in the wind. It would seem to me, you or someone you know should snatch this girl up. In my experience this is how evil casters of great significance often begin, as promising pupils left to their own devices and the evil of the world at large."A pause, as he produces a cigarette case from behind that breast plate and, yeah fox-mask or not. He lights a smoke, before offering one towards Strange. "Her name is Lynette, I did not have time to get a last name. I can find her again."


"I do know of Lynette." Indeed, Strange does. She was able to see through one of his lesser glamours with ease, a clear indicator of her potential power levels. Not only that, but the curious contacts between their magical senses had granted him a brutal view of her burgeoning Mystical abilities.

That she has the capabilities to summon a deity's messenger, one of such import as the Kitsune, is news to him. His eyebrows rise in surprise.

"I underestimated her then," he says aloud thoughtfully. His arms are full, what with the book and box tucked against one side and the scroll in the other. "And thank you, but I can find her once again. We have touched palms and my abilities are able to track her with prior meditation." A rather nifty skill he's honed by chasing after his errant apprentice over the last few months. "I will be certain to speak with her again."


"Excellent, that satisfies my good for the day then." Taking a moment to work on that cigarette, before flicking the thing aside. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do. If you have need of me, I'm certain you can find me at your leisure. Good day, Doctor."And with that he offers a curt little nod, before pulling that Tommy gun around as he starts off towards the heart of this hellbound mess. He was told after all, to make a dent. Not his fault she failed to specify the -size- of that dent, right?


Strange watches the Kitsune run back and forth through the trigger line of his chiming wards.

RINGA-DING-DING, goes the spell and he lets out a slow sigh as he closes his eyes against the sound. Normally, he would dive right in beside the celestial messenger and offer aid, but it seems the being can hold its own without him. The scroll and book are set atop the small box, with its odd burnt contents, on the grass beside him. With a squint of concentration at some middling distance, he looks for the spell he set weeks back with his Mystical sight. There, the shimmering white line that seems stark against the dulled Earthly surroundings and against the radiating red light from the Hellmouth. A furry foot crosses it and -


With a growl, Strange gestures a few times, mutters a few choice Words, and the warding alert-spell is changed to warn him of only the demonic assholes breaking its beam, NOT of the Kitsune, who so lightly darts back and forth across it, sword flashing.

No ring this time.

With a sigh of relief, he stoops to pick up his parcels before realizing that he can't hold a scroll and gesture out a rift at the same time. Hmph. The gate opens with a crackling of golden lightning, and now with packages in hand, Strange steps back into the Sanctum to do some uninterrupted cataloging. The Kitsune clearly can keep the Hellmouth's minions at bay for a bit.


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