fandomtownies | The Causeway, Saturday, Midday

The researchers had the message loud and clear from the telepaths: they would find what they were seeking on the Causeway, just past the corner of the parking lot. Over there, near an unusual-looking car, where it had been sitting unperturbed for nearly a month, now.

It was a sapling.

It was tiny, but twisted, and there was an air of malevolence about it. The ground underneath had a dark, unnatural color. The sapling was wrong, evil, even. It certainly shouldn't be here.

Sam Winchester	When everyone first set out on their search, Sam had been worried that finding Fandom's hiding place for what it had taken from Leland would be difficult. Really, he should have remembered that "subtle" and "Fandom" were terms that rarely went together. "This doesn't look so good," he said, approaching the sapling and debating whether or not to give it an experimental touch. It wasn't smart to poke evil, but that had never stopped him before.
Eleanor Holloway	Eleanor shuddered. In Rapture, trees had seemed like such grand, beautiful things; mighty oaks that took root in the ground and stretched their leaves towards the infinite sky. There was something thoroughly soothing about trees, especially real ones, not the pale imitations that Arcadia had used for oxygen. This tree ... this tree, she had no affection towards. She couldn't imagine that anyone did. "Did he curse it somehow?" she asked. Surely saplings weren't supposed to look like that.
Sam Winchester	"I wouldn't be surprised. He's certainly cursed enough of the town as it is." Sam reached for the sapling and snapped one of the small branches, wincing when the break oozed black sap. Don't mind him dropping the branch like it might burn him if he held onto it or something.
Garik "Face" Loran	"Oh, that's not right," Face said. Which was terribly helpful.
Eleanor Holloway	"So this is what's poisoning Fandom," Eleanor said, regarding it with some measure of revulsion. She didn't blame Sam for not wanting to touch it. "But ... are we allowed to destroy it?" she asked. "I mean, will it help? That book that Face found, it said that -- that it has to be each person's own hands. We can't destroy the tree for Fandom, or it won't count."
Sam Winchester	"Fandom doesn't have hands," Sam said lightly, before really thinking about it and perking up. "I mean--really, it doesn't, it's not a person. So how can it destroy its shiny thing? By sending us to do it." Reaching back for the sapling, Sam pushed at it, seeing how easy it might be to uproot. "We've got to be the hands. It has to count that way."
Garik "Face" Loran	"There's a simple enough way to be sure," Face said, then switched over to declamatory mode. "Island, if you would not like us to act as your proxies in this matter, just have some deer attack us in the next five seconds." He silently counted down five seconds, then shrugged. "I think we're good." The sad part was that Face hadn't felt the least bit ridiculous doing that.
Tobias "Four" Eaton	"You're talking out loud to a piece of geography," Four said dryly. "That's just...weird."
Jack Priest	"Stay here long enough and you'll see weirder," Jack promised. He'd let the others take the lead on this mission -- he was still preoccupied with what he'd discovered that morning. He reached out a finger to touch the tree, shuddering as he did. "What should we do? Does anyone have a lighter or matches?"
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"Oh, yes," Bob said, deadpan, "let me check my pockets."
Sam Winchester	"It doesn't seem to be rooted very well, as sick as it is," Sam said, giving the sapling a stronger push. Sure enough, the roots were barely set, and it came out of the ground with a gross-sounding crunch as it fell over. "Uh, timber?" he said awkwardly.
The Causeway	There was a moment or two of silence, and then, little by little, the fog began to dissipate. Gradually, at first, but the sun worked quickly enough on the last straggling bits. Daylight had never seemed so reassuring.
Eleanor Holloway	Eleanor tilted her face up to the sun, as if she could soak all of the light in if she tried hard enough. No lamps, no artificial lights could reach down into one's soul quite the same way. "So ... is that it?" she asked, stirring herself to remember they were here for a purpose. "Are we ..." She frowned at the hole the sapling had left behind. "What's that?"
Jack Priest	"A hole," Jack answered, the sunlight making him feel well enough to joke. He leaned in to see what Eleanor was looking at. "Wait, hang on, does that look like leather down there?"
Garik "Face" Loran	Face peered hole as well. "Do people usually use those as fertiliser?" He was an actor, not a gardener!
Tobias "Four" Eaton	"Not smart people," Four said, frowning.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"Not smart people who want things to grow," Bob corrected. "I have a feeling whatever that is is likely to be very good fertilizer for what the one who planted it wants."
Sam Winchester	Sam peered into the hole, crouched down and reached until he felt the leather, and pulled it out. It was a miracle he had lived this long, honestly. "I was expecting something smaller," he said, looking the suitcase over.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"I'm not sure touching that is the smartest idea," Bob said, more than a bit alarmed.
Tobias "Four" Eaton	"A creepy leather suitcase under a dying tree? Half surprised no one's licked it." Four wasn't impressed by the self-preservation of Fandom.
Sam Winchester	"...okay, that probably wasn't the best idea. But it's all right, I think?" Somewhere, Dean was sighing heavily although he didn't know why.
Eleanor Holloway	Eleanor felt sick to her stomach, remembering what Kathy had said. A battered satchel. "Is it screaming?" she asked, feeling nauseated.
Sam Winchester	Sam might have been willing to touch the suitcase, but he drew the line of stupidity at opening the damn thing up. Instead, he put the opening crease by his ear, listening for a moment before his eyes got wide. "Oh God. It's faint but... yeah, it is. There's something in here. A lot of somethings." The noise from the suitcase was distracting enough that at first, Sam didn't realize it wasn't just the Fandomites standing around anymore.

Leland Gaunt	In all the fuss, presumably no one had noticed the well-dressed gentleman strolling up behind them, casually lighting a cigarette. "I have to admit, that was quite the feat," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I've been run out of many a town via mob or witch hunt, but never has an entire town mobilized a thorough resistance against me in such a manner. It's rare to find a worthy opponent, and I commend you." He had been in jail, but really. Bars could not hold an Elder God who had somewhere else to be.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"Oh, good." Bob rolled his eyes. "Just the approval we've always been waiting for."
Sam Winchester	Thanks to many childhood years of hunting, Sam only jumped a little at the sound of Leland's voice, but he'd managed to cover it by the time he turned around. "You're not the first evil thing that's come here, and you probably won't be the last. You might want to run yourself out of town while you still have the chance."
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	Bob gave a "bye bye" wave.
Garik "Face" Loran	Congratulations, Leland! You were quite possibly the second creepiest individual Face had ever met. "I'm pretty sure we can organise a mob if you'd like, just a small one," he said, grinning and keeping his body language deliberately relaxed. "But if we've beaten you so thoroughly, I'm curious why you're here monologuing like a third-rate holo-drama villain instead exiting stage right pursued by a deer."
Tobias "Four" Eaton	"Because he likes listening to himself talk," Four guessed. He knew the type. His father was the type.
Jack Priest	"They always do," Jack nodded. "I've always wondered why that is. Do they think the evil doesn't count if they don't tell someone about it?"
Tobias "Four" Eaton	"Probably," Four said, making a face.
Eleanor Holloway	Eleanor clenched her fists. If she stood here and didn't say anything, then she wouldn't scream at him, and if she didn't scream at him, then she wouldn't punch him. It seemed like a sound strategy to her.
Leland Gaunt	"Oh, I'm leaving," Leland said, seemingly unfazed by all the chatter. "I know when I'm beaten. Besides, your island isn't nearly charming enough to lure me to stay." He gestured behind him breezily. "Your friends will live. Commendations all around. Simply return my property, and I'll be out of your hair permanently."
Garik "Face" Loran	Face had seen this holo. If not for his unexpected early retirement, Face probably would have starred in this holo at some point. "If we're taking votes, I suggest we don't give the guy who's spent the last month trying to kill us what he wants, that never works out."
Tobias "Four" Eaton	Four was mentally taking odds on this guy leaving with a "you'll see me again" cackle and possibly a coat flip. He rolled his eyes. "Beaten people don't get to call the shots."
Sam Winchester	Sam had grabbed the suitcase because really, he was going to be washing his hands for days from touching the sapling, so why not keep going and touch the clearly evil suitcase too? "You mean this?" he asked, holding it up but not loosening his grip. "Why do you even want it? It doesn't look like much."
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"It doesn't have to," Bob said. He was keeping his eyes on Gaunt. "But I wonder what would happen if we burned it. Or dissolved it in acid."
Leland Gaunt	"It's mine," Leland Gaunt said, darkly. "It belongs to me. If you return my property, then I will leave, and we can enjoy never encountering one another ever again. Or." His eyes were taking on a fiery gleam. "You can discover what happens when you double-cross me."
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"So you can move on and make some other poor sods miserable? I don't think so." Bob might not have the same level of power Gaunt did, but he was very good with words. "And In order for us to double-cross you, we'd have had to make a deal," he said. "I never did."
Eleanor Holloway	Eleanor had been so angry, looking at him, but the suitcase was bothering him. All of her rage was fading out, replaced with a twisted sort of nausea. "Kathy said there were souls, in there," she managed. "In that suitcase."
Leland Gaunt	Leland was going to take a nonchalant drag on his cigarette. "Your friend is melodramatic, and ill-informed," he said, doing his best to sound amused by the very idea.
Jack Priest	Jack made a disgusted noise. "Are you going to argue some technicality on whether it's souls or spirits or some other word for what makes a person a person?" he wondered. "Because that's really quite boring. You know what Eleanor means."
Sam Winchester	Sam didn't often straighten himself up to his full height, but he was learning to do it when it was called for, and this was definitely one of those times. "Sorry, but our island's a lot scarier than you are," he said, "especially when she's in danger." Sam's first swing brought the suitcase against the side of Leland's car, smashing in one of the windows. It wasn't entirely intentional to add insult to injury like that, but really, it was such a bright target. He swung at the ground next, feeling and hearing the suitcase make a satisfying crack.
Battered Suitcase	The crack split the side of it, along the seams. Just a wedge, but it was enough. Tiny wisps of smoke were pouring out from the gap, a few rushing out at first, then more, then more. It was as if the valise had been pressurized, and cracking the corner had caused all of the contents to become unstable and push, hard, to escape. The split was widening, now, and there seemed to be no end to the stream of miniature puffs. Each one streaked towards the sky, each tiny curl making up part of the huge, never-ending fountain. The high-pitched squeals could be mistaking for wails, at first, but as the contents continued to spill out, it was clearer; these were shrieks of joy. Free.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	Bob watched them leaving and couldn't help a slight wistful smile. "Good journey to you all," he murmured.
Formerly Leland Gaunt	HIS! THOSE WERE HIS! HOW DARE THESE MORTALS TAKE WHAT BELONGED TO HIM. Each and every soul had been bought and paid for. He had earned them! Leland Gaunt let out a shriek -- but the thing standing before them was no longer the humanoid creature they recognized as Leland Gaunt. It was tall, towering easily over the Fandomites. Its face was mangled, and misshapen; its hands were gnarled, and its innards were visible in its midsection. It was a monstrous, eldritch abomination, old as Time Itself, and it had been robbed. The creature's shriek continued, its keening pitch the sort of scraping, maddening noise that made humans' skins crawl. Its rage was great indeed, and it brought its tentacles around in a flash, slapping the concrete with enough intensity that the very ground cracked beneath.
Jack Priest	".... we should probably do something about that," Jack decided, sounding almost casual. He swiped at the tentacles with a hand that held more strength than any normal human.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	Bob eyed the...thing...warily and idly sidestepped a swipe. They couldn't actually hurt him, but he had no desire to feel them go through him. "Such as?"
Sam Winchester	Sam's response was to bang the suitcase against the car some more, albeit more carefully considering what was flying out of it.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"...Thank you, that's very helpful."
Leland Gaunt	The Tucker Talisman chose that moment to burst into flames. Sam might want to step back, as the fire began leaping outwards, charring the husk, turning it into something dark and twisted ... After a few moments of fiery transformation, the car was now a blackened chariot, complete with dark elemental horses and a carriage set on high wheels. Flames continued to pour from the frame, hot enough to turn the concrete below into muddled goo. The creature who had once been Leland was still shrieking, as he climbed aboard his chariot; if anything, his voice had grown louder, and more shrill. He aimed one backhanded, tentacled swipe at the group, standing by the water, before picking up the burning reins and jerking the monstrosity to life. The chariot did not move forward, at least, not on the ground. It began to tilt upward, at an almost impossible angle, a bright monstrosity climbing upward into the sky. At the very back of the chariot -- where one might find a bumper sticker, on a more modern vehicle -- if one squinted, one could just barely make out the shape of words. CAVEAT EMPTOR.
Hrothbert "Bob" of Bainbridge	"Well, that was melodramatic." Bob rolled his eyes at the chariot.
Sam Winchester	Sam couldn't avoid the flames and dodge the tentacle, so into the water he went, making a very undignified noise. Considering the part he'd played, he figured he had that coming, and he emerged just in time to see the chariot take off. "Your car's still ugly!" he yelled as it took off.
Garik "Face" Loran	Face ended up in the water as well, mostly because that was the easiest way to doge the tentacle. "Still less creepy than Isard," was his considered opinion.
Tobias "Four" Eaton	Four ended up with a tentacle across the face and how was this his life now. "Pretty sure he can't call Kathy overdramatic," he muttered, holding fingers up against his skin to see if he was bleeding.
Eleanor Holloway	The teleportation always kicked in in emergencies, so Eleanor had just migrated to the other side of the Causeway, completely dry. She jogged back over, feeling a touch sheepish. "Is ... is that it?" she asked. "Is it over?" The chariot was gone, only leaving behind the fiery skid marks. The fog had cleared. The battered suitcase on the ground was singed, and misshapen; no more wisps of smoke trailed from it. And nearby, a dying, black-sap-coated sapling was lying in a tangled heap on the ground. It didn't look so malevolent, now. Just ... sad, and broken. She must be getting maudlin, if she could stand here and pity a once-evil tree.
Sam Winchester	Sam had gotten back onto the Causeway, and was shaking the water off of himself when he noticed where Eleanor was looking. "Here, why don't we just..." he said, trailing off and going over to the sapling. It looked much nicer to touch now, so Sam pulled it back upright and placed it back where it had been, stamping gently around the roots so it would stay standing. He didn't know enough about botany to know whether or not the sapling would recover, but there was no harm in giving it another chance, right? "There, all better," he said, giving Eleanor a small smile. "Now, we'd better go tell everyone what happened."