Chapitre 154: Keeping Up With The Browns V
In the event of his untimely demise, Irwin Bellios thought it best for Ella Thorrin to succeed him as the Greythorne Clan's heir. At least until Annalize became of age to choose whether to bask in the glory, wealth, and trouble of being a Greythorne.
He had yet to speak about it to the woman, but it was clear that she was expecting it. They had already done the deed–almost three times a day during his two-week-long stay in the manor–and her almost immediate expertise on magical gardening seemed to point Ella towards a direction that would free Irwin of much trouble.
The train of thoughts arrived in his head the moment he opened the door to the fourth-floor kitchen to search for any clues. The door swung inwards and there revealed a figure crouching on the granite countertop in the middle of the room.
Long-limbed with tuft matted fur for hair, the hirsute naked giant figure had a bobbed black hair and a goatee that covered his whole jaw. From the frighteningly large, flat nose to the humongous yellowed teeth, every feature of this man was considered by society to be deeply appealing.
More so when his bulging hairy belly and the rest of his body was [were] free of clothing, barring the dirty towel thankfully wrapped around his crotch.
"Boy, you're tall," Irwin couldn't help but remark seeing [upon seeing] the almost eight-foot-tall figure. His head, even when crouched, still bumped against the blades of the ceiling fan.
"Whu?" The giant reacted to Irwin's words, freeing his attention from his carcass of raw chicken and beef. The giant grabbed a towel from the next counter, stretching his long limbs to reach it.
The giant cleared his throat as he wiped away the sauces and blood from his face and goatee. "My, my. You appear to be lost, human," the giant spoke with a posh British accent, startling Irwin as his voice reminded Irwin of how Archibald talked.
"I am, indeed," Irwin said hesitantly, eyes widening at the apparent attempt of the giant to be civil. "I have to say… you really can't judge a book by its cover."
The giant tilted his head quizzically before he widened his eyes and chortled with glee. "Oh, my. Yes, you can't, indeed. Forgive my bedraggled appearance. I have recently awoken from my slumber and, the last time I was walking amongst your kin, they were all a tad bit… white and rich."
"Let me guess: British Museum?" The giant nodded furiously as he laughed like a man whose wealth was built on the bones of African mines.
"Indeed, indeed. Those nasty freaks liked it when I gargled saliva and growled at them. Flying was yet not invented and automobiles were but a fad waiting to be phased out. Ah, such were the times." The giant then burped loud, the room immediately smelling like a butcher's shop. "You smell absolutely wicked, human. Pray tell, are you one of them warlocks?"
"I am, actually. I'm Richard, but you can call me Irwin. And you are?"
"Apologies. I had forgotten to introduce myself…"
The giant bowed low, letting his large chest to swing up and down. "I am the Bane of Esarhaddon, shadow of Cedar, and an enemy of Gilgamesh. Huwawa, at your service."
[Huwawa - Class 3 Demihuman]
"Nice to meet you, Huwawa. I'd shake your hand, but… well." Irwin nodded his head at Huwawa's dirty hands. His legs stretched as he took another step inwards. "I'm surprised Anthony–the congressman, I meant–invited you here. I thought he didn't know of the supernatural before."
"He doesn't," Huwawa answered with disdain. "The fool did not invite us. We are called upon by the Great Matron. Well, technically, The Sisters are actually the ones who sent the invitation, woke up some of us, but, you know, they're cogs in the machine."
"Sisters? Ah, you mean Suzie Anne and Nima." Irwin snapped his fingers, as if trying to remember their names.
Huwawa narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Although I would prefer it if you put respect on their names, young one. I would rather not take your tongue out for disrespecting the Servant Sisters of the Great Matron."
"Ah, of course. I just… Humans like us tend to have other names," Irwin reasoned, trying to calm down the big lug.
Huwawa tilted his head once more. "Really? Maybe it's a new fad. Is that why you have two names?"
"Yeah. Richard and Irwin. Suzie Anne and…"
"Šuzianna. I see. Good, jolly good." Huwawa chortled with wonder in his eyes, contrasting his terribly hideous appearance. "I do suppose I am accustomed to the fad of this age."
Huwawa's expression, albeit difficult to read, turned somewhat dower [dour] as he muttered under his breath, "This will be a difficult event if the Bull knew of my inadequacy."
"Something the matter, Huwawa?" Irwin asked as he drew closer to the giant.
Huwawa then gazed at Irwin in an entirely new light, a decisive gaze that caused Irwin to shiver.
"You, boy–"
"Richard or Irwin."
"Yes, Richard or Irwin. There will be a Pantheonic assembly of the highest order in the following days, and a god of esteem such as myself should not attend one without an acceptable aide." Huwawa steepled his fingers, standing tall until he bent his head against the ceiling.
Irwin's eyes widened, a hint of fear streaked through his expression before he washed it down with a contemplative look.
"I'm guessing you want me to be your aide in this assembly?" He wanted to bid for time as he took in the information Huwawa gave him.
He cursed his luck. Of all the politicians he had to save and partner with, it was the one that had a whole pantheon swirling around his home.
Huwawa had already confirmed that Anthony Brown had no inkling about the shitstorm coming his way, but he still suspected Linda. Her best friend, Suzie Anne or Šuzianna, was a pagan god and seemed to be part of a deity collective.
The Servant Sisters that served the Great Matron were in the apartment, most probably embedded deep into the congressman's relationship. That meant he would need to kill at least three pagan gods before the rest of the Pantheonic assembly convened, or he would be forced to sever his ties with the congressman.
Sure, he could fight and, theoretically, save him from this event, but that would be putting him against his wife, his mistress, and the people he knew and loved. It would breed resentment from the man, even if Irwin could properly explain the reasoning and provide evidence of the matter.
If any demons were to know of Anthony's relation with him, they could use that resentment to create a pure betrayal. That was what they do best, and Irwin knew that they could do it easily.
Either way, he needed time to research the Servant Sisters and the Great Matron, more specifically what to expect from their godly abilities. He already had a weapon that could kill them, with more to spare if someone lost it.
He was thankful that he had people that he could trust with jobs; a few of them were even better at some jobs than he was. In the meantime, he would use this conversation to find more information.
"I accept," Irwin said. "What would this job entail?"
Huwawa grinned–or so it seemed; it was hard to read the demihuman's expression when half of his face was covered in fur. "Feeding me, keeping my fur free of mites and mice, brushing my back hair, keeping me from going berserk by chanting an ancient rite of serenity, and keeping me informed if somebody broke the sacred laws of the Seven Sages."
"Sounds easy enough. When will the assembly begin?" Irwin stopped his [moving] movements when he reached the same side as Huwawa, crossing his arms and giving off a contemplative expression.
"In three days' time, the Birth Mother would induce labor with the help of the God-hand's midwifery techniques. After that, the seven of them would perform Kesh rituals, which we only have to attend once." Huwawa seemingly groaned derisively at the thought of attending the ritual. "After the week, and the Great Matron is revived–Thank fuck for that–the assembly will begin soon after."
"Will the others arrive during the Kesh ritual?" Irwin asked.
Huwawa nodded, "Most are being taken care of underground and still need time to awaken their consciousness, but the few that are roaming this world are coming in the early days of the birthing ritual."
"I understand," Irwin nodded like a good aide. "Is there anything I should avoid? Any allergies or–"
"Allergies?" Huwawa tilted his head as his hands reached towards the chicken head.
"Stuff your body doesn't want, and if you do have it, your body will try to kill you," Irwin explained.
"Ah, cursed natural hexes. I need to eat fresh meat, preferably human, but poultry is enough. Don't comb my neck hair; it hurts. And, oh," Huwawa leaned in, his hulking form threatening to impose itself into the very space. His eyes glowed with a crimson light as Irwin felt the air hitch up in temperature. "Do not cross the veil of water and earth."
Huwawa's crazed red eyes returned to their normal black hue, and so did the air. "And that should be it. Say, I am terribly parched. Be a chap and get me blood. AB, if you wouldn't mind."
"No problem." Irwin uncrossed his arms as he scrutinized Huwawa's form. "I'll be right back."
Irwin turned around and out the door, closing it for good measure. For a moment, Irwin stood in the doorway and thought about what he should do next.
Fortunately, he didn't have to think for long as Dean Winchester walked up to him. Disheveled and full of hickeys, the hunter eyed Irwin with curiosity before asking, "What'd happen to you?"
Irwin groaned, "I think I just joined a cult."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone