The Night of Aeon

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Blind Hemingway

Ancient Iwaku Scum from 2006.
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Douche
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Female
Surrealism, Surreal Horror (Think Tim Burton), Steampunk, Sci-Fi Fantasy, Spaghetti Westerns, Mercenaries, Dieselpunk, Cyberpunk, Historical fantasies
Episode Three: Venatio
"Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose."


Chaaran the Immortal continued his laboring in the factory. In Jewish tradition, the golem is most widely known as an artificial creature created by magic, often to serve its creator. Chaaran's master had gone missing for several generations and thusly it continued to do what it had been instructed to do, make weapons. The scenery may have changed but to a soulless body, such trivial matters were obscured and unimportant.

He had taken over the Romano Mills and Factory, where he toils day and night to make weapons and munitions. People don't question his existence because of the Fascist take over of the nation.

Achille and Ruth were once again, sitting around the commons room. For the first time, St. Clair appeared without a dramatic entrance. Behind him, came a young man that neither of them knew.

"Master St. Clair, before we go, what can we know about this Golem?" The young man asked.

"Very good question, Peter. Unfortunately, we do not have any more film of it. However..." Bringing out a slide projector, St. Clair loaded a number of slides into it.

"These were taken two days ago," he said. The first three slides showed pictures of the golem from various angles. "Eyewitness reports place Chaaran anywhere from 12 feet to 100 feet in height. As for myself, I believe that 100 feet is perhaps a bit too much hyperbole."


Two more slides, one the exterior of the factory, the other a wide shot of the interior.

"What we do know is that the factory the Golem is based in has a large door approximately 24 feet in height. This door is almost always open. There are three other entrances, one next to the large door, one on the right side when facing said door, and one in the back. The choice of entrance is up to you."

The next slide showed Chaaran standing upside-down, pounding on a piece of metal which he had bolted to the ceiling. St. Clair gave a small cough before rearranging the slide, revealing that the golem was just standing in the normal boring fashion: on the floor. Three more slides of Chaaran working, then a slide of Ex-German Kaiser William II.

"Ah, if only he was a demon in body too," said St. Clair. "In the future, you will learn to hate this man."

The remaining slides were hardly interesting, though a slide of Sister Silva bending down to pick up something did cause him to mumble, "Achille….Since you're a Jew, you should explain to your friends what they are dealing with."

A few seconds later, the blond haired Aeon then stood next to St. Clair, still chewing on the apple with a certain aura of negligence. "Alright Archbishop, time for me to take over this meeting." He then stared up at the photo on the wall. "Heh, I'm not sure if that is Silva's best pose yet or not, what do you think?" He said this half jokingly. The Archbishop then muttered something under his breath once again.

Achille then straightened himself up and his tone sounded more mature, "Okay, so you've learned about the Golem we are facing."

He then changed the projector back towards the picture of Chaaran.

"I believe that this golem is the same one that Rabbi Loew used in Prague in the 1500s. How it got here to Rome is not known and the JSF wants to know why he is here." Achille then went over towards the dull white board that hung on the wall and started to write something.

"The existence of a golem is a mixed blessing at best. They are not intelligent beings; if they are commanded to perform a task, they will take the instructions perfectly literally. Whoever reactivated the beast, clearly wants an big arsenal of weapons."

His green eyes continued to stare forward, "Since Chaaran is programmed to only create weapons, we'll have the element of surprise, since it will be more concerned on taking care of its task at hand."

He then walked back over towards the blackboard, " In order for a golem to live the word Emet, has to be on its forehead. By erasing the first letter aleph in Emet to form Met, it can be deactivated. Simply, it is "truth" to death."

Achille then turned to look at the group of Aeons, "My rule of thumb, is if a being is not truly evil, I will not kill it. Since Chaaran is a national treasure for the people of Prague, we'll need to work together and make sure that we can remove the word Emet from his forehead. From there, the JSF will ship the bad boy home."
"Okay then," Peter said, messing with his pendent unconsciously, "How do we 'erase' something off of it? Is there something you use specifically?" He sat down and put his legs up on another chair, very casually.
So it was finally time to risk her life for the Aeons. This time she would not be trapped underneath some oaf trying to protect her. She shot a look at Achillie as he stepped up to explain the golem further. Things would go badly for him if he tried to protect her this time. She just hoped that she wouldn't need protecting.

Of course, as soon as she saw the pictures of the golem Ruth was thinking of possible weaknesses and ways of taking it down. The pictures clearly showed that the thing was nowhere near 100 feet tall. She doubted her arrows would have an effect on the monstrosity, but she might be able to hold it back for awhile with her wand. Her first thoughts were to collapse the building down around the thing but then Achillie said he wanted it deactivated instead of destroyed. She somehow doubted that the golem would "simply" let someone erase the words it's creator used to activate it. If it can hammer steel, then it could certainly crush a man with it's bare hands. Achille's descriptions were helpful, but he seemed just a bit too confident. Also, for some reason, his flirting with Sister Silva was starting to get on her nerves. How were they supposed to era- The new Aeon beat her to it.

"How do we 'erase' something off of it? Is there something you use specifically?"

Ruth turned to Achillie. " He has a good point. You are aware that it probably won't be happy when we try to stop it from completing it's task? Unless golems are not programed for any self-preservation, I doubt it will just stand there and let us "Simply" chisel off the writing on it's forehead. If my life is in danger, your "rule of thumb" doesn't apply to me."

She turned to the man who had arrived with the Archbishop."My name is Ruth by the way... and you are?"

She was only vaguely aware of her rudeness being only half-focused on the man. The rest of her thought was trying to objectively go through a possible fight with the golem. If she let herself think of the possible consequences for failure it would only drive her to panic. This needed to be math not emotion. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her brother, invisible to most, contemplating the fight himself. She was kind of glad that he was silent for once, but on the other hand she needed to talk to him.
"I'm Peter Beddor. I prefer Robin though," He replied, eying the girl. She looked a bit shabby, probably from the country. "I'm an archer...or a sniper. Whichever you wish." Robin smirked, proud of his skills.

"I agree," He turned back to Achillie. "We can't just go up to it and say, 'Ello, we're gonna kill you, savvy?'"
Silva Lomeva

Silva listened silently to the lecture, seated in her chair with hands folded neatly in her lap. The silver-haired woman didn't move or make an expression, save for the slightest tilt of her eyebrow at the picture slide of her rear end. There was a glitter in her eyes, but she did not make comment. Silva was like a ghost in the room.

Her head tilted to the side as their newest Aeon asked the question that was on everyone's mind. How to erase a letter from a very active golum. This was not something Silva was concerned with. Erasing the letter would be simple. Having the Aeons work together to do so... that was a challenge.

Even now as she watched the people in the room, she could see the thoughts running across Ruth's face. Achille had caused a stir with the others with his careless attitudes. Still, it did provide moments of amusement!

"Why can we not? Personally, I would be delighted if someone would approach me with the intentions before they tried to slay me." she responded to Peter with all seriousness.
Ruth nearly jumped when she heard Sister Silva talk. Had she been there the whole time?

"Personally, I would rather not get crushed to death by a thirty foot tall golem. "

Ruth hoped her estimate of it's size was somewhat correct. If they were going to destroy this thing thirty feet was already barely manageable.

"You know we can't kill it. It's not evil."

Ruth's head snapped to where Mathew was hovering over the pictures of the machine. Of course her brother, the invisible floating pillar of righteousness, had to comment. For the sake of not looking crazy in front of the new Aeon she didn't comment. The glare she shot at him could have burned flesh from bone, unfortunately he didn't have any.

Cairo, Egypt 1923.
She had been chained and the dampness of the air around her naked form made her shiver. The woman had no idea of how much time had passed, for all she knew it had been weeks, months, or even years.

The young woman tried to open her eyes, but the lids seemed too heavy . She felt a knife cut through her soft flesh once again for what had to have been the 1000th time since her capitiviy. In the past she would have screamed but that would give her captors credit that they didn't deserve. For now she would remain still and anxiously awaited the day she'd finally die.

However, fate had a different goal in mind for this woman. A woman wearing a long bluish colored robe wearing a rather plain black wide brimmed hat entered the side of a Coptic church, followed behind her was a Frenchman with black hair.

They were promptly greeted by fat Egyptian merchant man, wearing a red Ottoman styled fez.

"Welcome my friends! I take your religion's underground movement has great interest in our findings." The man spoke with a forced English accent.

"We have come to gather our belongings." Silva mentioned, sounding more demanding than playful.

"But Sister, we cannot allow the being to be out in the open. She is one of the Nephilim."

The silver haired woman then responded, "That still does not give you the right to lock up one of God's peoples for crimes she did not commit."

"But Sister Silva, everything the Prophets have ever written suggest that these beings are descendents of fallen angels. There is no way, I can allow you to take this thing back to Rome with you. It must be destroyed."


"I have something better in mind for her. Nephilim means more than just "fallen ones" dear Ahab. In true Hebrew, it means Wondrous. This is because men's hearts would fail at the sight of them." St. Clair then mentioned has he raised his arms to strengthen the power of his statement, "We will take her back with us, whether you Copts like it or not. Is that clear? I have a proposition for her that make things better for both parties."

It had been almost two hours since the Sin had crashed through the roof, now young Tamara Jaeger was lying on her bed. Silva had forced her to change into a slip.
"Rest… Must rest…" Tamara kept shouting in her head.

Her blue eyes continued to stare at the ceiling of her room. "This is boring… I'm the head of the Aeons and now I'm sure that stupid Achille is running about like he owns the place." Her red hair was now kept in a basic bun, Tamara found it to be rather fancy thought it had been out of fashion for at least 20 years.

"Oh forget this. I'm not a sick girl that needs to be watched over like a hawk by Silva."

She then jumped out of her bed with much grace. Grabbing a quilted robe from her closet, Tamara quietly closed the door behind her. The only people walking around the halls this hour where two Sisters named Anna and Olivia.

Neither of those girls would be much of a worry for Tammie. They were generally busy gossiping about the local Italian soldiers being cute and other distaff materials of the day. She quietly bypassed the two, her white slip now covered by a pale pink robe that she had for a long time.

St. Clair said that it had belonged to her mother, before the German Catholics sent her to Rome for protection after the loss of her family during the Great War. Or so the story went, Tamara had no idea what really happened to her family, since she had been in Rome for many decades now….

"What? I have no idea what savvy means." Achille mentioned as her raised an eyebrow to Robin's comments. If there was any nation on the earth he didn't care for just after Germany, it would have been the British. Their foreign department was the one thing that blocked the gates to the creation of Israel.

Tamara then entered the dining hall, even though she had direct orders to be in bed rest. Being supernatural and a bit of a professional busy body, she could easily tell Achille wasn't thrilled with having yet another nationality he didn't like in the room. "Everyone has the right to be here Swiss-boy. We are a secular branch of the Church but since you're too thick headed, I'll just be assured that you didn't read all the letter St. Clair sent you."

Achille then ignored the intrusive little German, "So to answer your question Robin, no we aren't going in to kill it. We'll just need you and Ruth to work togeth…"

The Aeon could see a man in a dark robe peeking into the room. Turning to them as, he spoke in a hushed tone, though it was fairly loud sounding so it could have been his normal speaking voice, "Ah, the rookies. So glad to see you could make it. I was about to go in and confront the beast myself."

Through looking around a little, Robin noticed a can of paint on the ground next to the hooded man, with a paintbrush inside it. "Good sir, is that your paint?" he asked.

"How astute, my fellow Brit. Yes, that's my paint. The 'e' in 'emet' must be blotted out, mustn't it? Do not question my methods, and we will get along fine. I'm frankly amazed that you do not appear to know me."

The man threw off his hood, revealing a man with long blond hair and about five swords in sheaths all over his body. "I am Geoffrey Turner, famed monster hunter. Remember my name well lads, as I am a person you will aspire to become if you ever want to be in his lord's graces."

"You mean I can become closer to God by emulating-"

"No, you lamebrain! The POPE! He's the important one here. Honestly, young ones these days...Anyway, just follow behind me, and everything will be fine. I've had years of experience in this, and I'd say that I'm one of the best the Aeon has to offer. Believe me, you're in good hands."

Tamara then raised an eyebrow and then moved over towards Silva, "For some reason, I have the sneaking suspicion that he's from the Los Angeles Branch…"

Summary: Flashback of Silva and St. Clair picking up a Nephilim from somewhere in Egypt. The scene goes back to the modern day, when Tamara once again decides she doesn't need to stay in bed and wanders her way towards the rest of the gang. Once more she picks a fight with Achille. They are interrupted by a clearly important NPC named Geoffrey Turner.]
Ruth immediately disliked Geoffrey Turner. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard and he seemed more cocky than Achillie. At the word "lamebrain" she wanted to punch him in the face. At least stopping the golem would be straightforward as long as she didn't die. (It was straightforward as long as she pushed all the possible ways she could die out of her head.)
Robin raised an eyebrow. This guy already pissed him off to the greatest level. "I'm surprised you don't know who I am, you bloody twat." Robin thought as Geoffrey was giving his introduction. He was very sure that he and this man would NOT get along, contrary to what he suggested.

"So that was all we needed? Paint?" Robin scoffed, turning to Achillie. "If you had told us this in the first place, we could have been out there and snuffed the thing already"
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