Dark Aesir<br/>on the subway  with Medea and Hellion<br/>Early Morning<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">But you should know that what I'm looking for has to do with a fire, a mother and two kids, and a guy fished out of the Hudson."  She starts to take the turn.  "What I am is an agent and advocate of vengeance.  And I'd like your help."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><br/>Jonah felt the tentacles of amazement creep up into his face. He didn't bother to hide it. The shock of the words strangled his pithy comment, shooed away all his witty remarks like a cat among chickens. He knew he had the look of someone suddenly thinking, all of a sudden furious in thought. Not mercs. Not Company. Not Skinners. The memory of the sooty girl begging for just one quick go zoomed past him. Also the memory of the soggy balding man-corpse stalking him through the halls of the county morgue, hall he usually cleaned. He could almost hear that voice, sounding muted, as if under the dirty water of his river tomb, calling out that name.<br/><br/>As the car slowed at the top of the hill and the dark wet night flowed by the remaining windows in a blur of streaky lights, just a mass of lens flares rolling by. But through the window to his left, across the turn and down the black soaked concrete hill that swept down to the highway they just left, he could see the sign. It was lit green and bright in the oncoming headlights of the late night comes and goers. Its scratches and dents showed plainly, its flaking spots glowing only slightly less as the cars passed it making it pulse, making it breath.<br/><br/>It read “Exit Here”. Maybe it was broken, missing some part of its original message or maybe it was just a joke. God knows there was room enough for comedy in the works of men. But Jonah looked there, right into the heartbeat of that faraway green torch. The car slowed and he saw the Scrapper look away from the rear view. She wouldn't make him stay, wouldn't even let him guess. She said what she wanted to say and that was all. He got the feeling that she was like that.<br/><br/>He waited a full two seconds, two long, empty stadium moments for the Aesir to do something, to give him some sign. But the broken god in him had nothing to add. Jonah felt an uncomfortable confusion. He looked from the rear view to the door switching his gunmetal grays uneasily. Being led through life by spirits and demons made for some strange codependencies. She did ask for help though. A chance to be worth it. He hadn't helped the drowned man, hadn't helped his family. He hadn't even helped the singing harlot who shared their pyre. And just like that, the question was answered.<br/><br/>“Okay.” he said sitting back into the seat as the car gunned forward again. “I know the case your working on. We can talk about it when we are safe.”<br/><br/>The blazing green sign winked out as if someone had pulled its little chain and the car sat down in its groaning acceleration, heaving its bulk toward the car park.<br/><br/>Riding on the train with the hook fingered Scrapper and the victorian Dancer he felt out of place, clumsy and perplexed. But Jonah knew that there was only one direction to go when you didn't know where to go. Forward.