Dipper couldn't say how long he knelt there, unable to move, trapped by fear for the souls he cared most about in the world. It didn't matter that most of them didn't know yet how important they were to him, what mattered was that they were in danger, and he didn't know where they were, how to find them, and there was no one who could help him.
A small part of Dipper knew he was overreacting just a bit, that the Dinner Crew would help him, even if he had been acting more demonic far too recently, Lucy Ann would have made sure they knew he was in his right mind again, and now that she...that even she had been taken, they'd help him to help her.
He wasn't alone in this, he did have allies.
But most of him was hyperventilating, an action useless to a demon but still happening, blind panic taking over as frantic pulls to his link to Mizar proved that she was blocked from him.
Dipper shot to his feet, pacing in Catherine's room, hands digging though his hair as he muttered to himself.
With a spin that made his coat tails flare and dance, Dipper summoned up a cork board, pins, paper, pens, and strings. He stared the board down for a few seconds, head low and teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, before his hands started moving at inhuman speeds.
He was going to find each and every one of his symbols, no matter what it took.
He'd tried the demon way. Now it was time to try his way.
Lucy Ann came to slowly, clutching at her head. It had been a long time since she'd had a headache, possibly since the first time she'd overdosed on demon blood thanks to her willing donor and an abundance of curiosity from them both on just what would happen.
As it turned out, what happened was a power rush the likes of which Lucy Ann hadn't felt in centuries and a hangover on the level of the ones gained from Soul Cider.
This particular headache rivaled that. Cradling her head, Lucy Ann inched over until she was sitting properly, keeping her eyes closed.
But even with her eyes closed, she still could sense more than a human. Wherever she was, it was chill, with the tang of metal and stone and damp. A basement or warehouse, most likely – but she would have guessed that even without those smells. For some reason, cults and their ilk were inordinately fond of basements and warehouses.
Once she was past the smell of chill and mildew, she could make out the scents of humans. Warm, bloodied, frightened humans.
With the ease of long practice she ignored the surge of hunger that rose at the smell of someone's scrapes and cuts, blood brought to the surface of the skin. She just wished she'd had time to be introduced to some of the symbols this time around, so she would know if she was smelling one of them right now or if this was something, someone different.
Lucy Ann took a moment to try and find out what she could remember. There had been a spray of holy water, and fuck but it had hurt, but being as damn old as she was meant that while it had burned she wasn't going to be hurting much longer. Then there had been blackness and jostling, smells of garlic and more holy water, and it was pretty obvious that she'd lost consciousness somewhere in there.
It was only then that she noticed the weight on her wrists. For a human it would have been heavy, but she noticed the chill first, the soft clinks the chains made, and had to throttle down a fresh surge of rage when she realized she'd been chained to the wall like an animal, with cuffs around her wrists and ankles and a collar around her throat.
At least they hadn't tried to muzzle her. She still hadn't forgiven the cult that had pulled that with Dipper yet, and it had been what, a thousand years? Two? Since the Scouring had happened...?
"Hey, you okay over there?" a soft voice called over, and Lucy Ann's head shot up, looking around in surprise, hissing softly in pain at the dim light as she finally opened her eyes.
The woman calling to her was small, and dark, with ink black hair swinging down in a short bob, though it was tangled and messy at the moment, and there was a smudge of dust or dirt on her face. The pajama pants she wore were in similar shape, as was the t-shirt and mismatched fuzzy socks, but she seemed unharmed apart from that.
"...I think so," Lucy Ann said, still trying to judge this woman. She was chained much like Lucy Ann was, though without the collar.
As if realizing why Lucy Ann was staring, the woman gave a crooked grin. "You're Lucy Ann, right? I'm Catherine. Tyrone mentioned you."
It took Lucy Ann a second before she grinned. That dork would give his friends a code name for him, to use in human conversations, when they thought they might be overheard. "Yeah, he mentioned you too," she said. She scooted a little closer to Catherine, lowering her voice. "Is everyone here?"
"Everyone...?" Catherine said uncertainly, lowering her own voice, before it clicked. "Oh! On the circle...well, Tyrone said there were about sixteen on the main circle right now, and about twenty more on the expanded circle. I think everyone from the main circle's here now that they got you. It's kind of hard to tell, whoever took us is trying to keep us apart as much as they can."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure," Catherine said. "I tried to get some information, but I only got glimpses of the other people here and of the people that dragged me here. They won't talk to me. I...think it's pretty obvious it's about Tyrone, though. Why else get all the symbols?"
Lucy Ann cursed, quietly and vigorously, with all the years she'd been alive to collect curse words showing in her tirade.
Catherine watched in impressed silence until the tirade was over. Finally Lucy Ann slumped back against the wall, frustrated and furious.
"Now what?" Catherine asked, leaning a little against her own wall.
"I'm not sure," Lucy Ann admitted, closing her eyes. "I just don't know enough yet. Looks like it's up to that dork now."
"...we're doomed," Catherine said, deadpan.
Kiyo poked her head into the room Dipper was using for his white and cork boards, the number of which had multiplied as he continued connecting threads and jotting notes.
The Dinner Crew members who had been watching Catherine's home had found him soon after he'd started his frantic deductions.
He hadn't wanted to move, so they'd picked up the first three cork boards Dipper had conjured and bodily moved them, ignoring the hissing demon still trying to use said boards, and transported them to a Dinner Crew safe house.
Kiyo watched as Dipper stood back from the boards, looking them over critically. Absently he raised the dry erase marker he'd been using up to his mouth, chewing on it, forgetting that his teeth were currently razor sharp with frustration and rage. They slid through the plastic like butter, and Dipper sputtered and coughed as he got a mouthful of ink, spitting it out and pitching the marker and its pieces into a trash bin full of paper and more mangled markers.
"It's going that well, is it?" Kiyo asked, making Dipper jump, his hair and wings fluffing out like the fur of a startled cat. "Why don't you use those tablet boards?" she asked as he huffed, selecting another marker. "At least those pens don't have ink in them."
"These are what I used to use," Dipper said shortly. "I went for the familiar, all right? And they're easier to replace when I bite them. You're acting awfully calm."
"I have to be," Kiyo said, with a sigh that left the room a good ten degrees hotter. "This city can't handle a frantic dragon. I'm panicking on the inside."
"Right, I...sorry," Dipper muttered, dropping the new marker and burying his hands in his hair, tugging hard. "Sorry. I just...I can't find them. I've tried and tried, and I can't find them, can't feel them, I can't even feel Mizar, and that shouldn't be possible!"
Kiyo hummed, a deep rumble that rattled Dipper's conjured bones. "Have you ruled out pocket dimensions? I believe you mentioned those once..."
"Not yet, I just can't seem to..." Dipper was cut off, doubling in half with the force of the summon, so strong it felt like a blow. Kiyo watched with mounting worry, shifting until she could reach in and cup her friend in one giant paw. Dipper reached out blindly and grabbed one of those huge claws for support, form beginning to flicker, teeth gritted against the force of the pull.
"What...?" Kiyo asked, pulling Dipper a little closer.
"Summons," he gasped out. "Strong...strongest in centuries. Can't fight it...damn! I..."
"Go," the dragon urged quietly. "You'll only be pulled harder until you do, and make it as quick as you can."
Dipper forced up a wan smile for his friend before releasing his hold on the room, the death grip that had been the only thing keeping him from being forcefully thrown out of reality and to the circle, and spun into the summons, as able to resist as a leaf could escape a whirlpool.
Lucy Ann had started to doze when she heard footsteps outside the small room she and Catherine were trapped in.
"Wake up," she hissed to her fellow captive, who sat up, blinking quickly. "Someone's coming."
Lucy Ann stifled the groan when the four people she'd heard entered the room, each in a long, red, hooded robe. Cultists, again. What was with their obsession with robes, anyway? They were so impractical, especially around chalk circles and candles that you left on the floor, it was amazing there weren't more stories of them catching themselves on fire.
Being best friends with a demon meant encountering far more cultists than Lucy Ann was happy with, but she was more disgusted with their lack of originality.
Still, she had to give them one grudging credit. They were very careful as they unlocked the chains binding the women to the walls, careful to keep the ones on Lucy Ann taunt so she couldn't bite either of them. With Catherine they were a little less careful, but she was still human, not vampire, so it did make some sense.
A cultist with sense. When she got out of this Lucy Ann was going to check and make sure the world wasn't actually ending.
Her heart sank when they were finally pulled into the echoing room that was their destination.
Etched deeply into the floor was Dipper's circle, and there was a person chained to the floor by their wrists on top of each symbol.
Lucy Ann and Catherine were dragged to the last two empty symbols and the chains on their wrists attached to the staples on the inner edge of their symbol's circles.
Surreptitiously Lucy Ann tested hers when the cultists walked away. The slack between manacle and staple was enough to let her sit up comfortably, but she wouldn't be able to stand, and both staple and manacle were too strong to break quickly.
Well, she might be able to pull her hands free, but it would likely break more than one bone and it would take too long to heal for a fight. Not an option unless she was desperate. And pulling the staple free was going to take time if she was cautious, and lots of effort.
So Lucy Ann sat back on her heels and waited, fuming. This was Dipper's circle, and that dork was going to gloat forever if he had to rescue her.
Not all of the captives were taking this quietly. Some were muttering, and one was crying. One of the other captives spoke up, demanding to know what was going on in a voice that toed the line between anger and fear.
They were ignored for the moment, save for occasional glances to be sure they weren't trying to escape, as the cultists around them continued to set up. Lucy Ann twisted in her bonds, trying to see what they were doing.
This was no ordinary summons, and she'd like to have a little warning if she was going to have to get them all out of here. It wasn't going to be pretty if they tried to kill all of Dipper's 'symbols' and, strong stomach or not, she didn't particularly want to be here if he had to do something about that.
There were candles being lit, though they were smart enough not to use scented candles or incense. Or to try to use Ygdrassil. It may have usually pacified Dipper, but it sent other demons into an animalistic rage, and so far as Lucy Ann knew, only family and friends knew about how Dipper acted under its influence, and if he was angry, well.
Not that it would have pacified him under these circumstances. When he was this upset, it just made it worse, sending him hunting down the ones who'd angered him like a cat toying with prey.
Dipper would have hated it, but the results might have been worth it to Lucy Ann.
Lucy Ann also had to admit she was just a touch vindictive.
She tried to twist farther to see what preparations the cult was making – there were more circles around the one she was tied in, ones she didn't like the looks of – but it was difficult at best with her hands chained to the floor in front of her.
Even with her enhanced senses, she really couldn't tell what they were doing, and it was incredibly frustrating.
She could see Catherine across the circle from her, and the woman she knew was Mina, the currant Mizar, halfway between them. The two women were watching the activity around them just as intently as Lucy Ann was.
At least someone else here had some clue for what to do, even if they didn't have the experience Lucy Ann did.
After what felt like an eternity to stressed nerves and heightened tensions (though was likely more around a half hour) it seemed that whatever preparations the cult was preparing were complete.
There was an observation platform on one side of the room, with three people standing on it. The one in the middle was dressed in robes fancier than anyone else in the rooms, so it was pretty easy to guess he was in charge of this circus.
The person beside him was running a finger down the clipboard they held, speaking in low voices to the people who came up one by one to whisper to them.
They stepped forward after the last of what Lucy Ann thought of as the worker bees hurried back off the platform, speaking quietly to the leader.
Apparently satisfied with the preparations, the leader stepped forward.
He pulled back his hood, revealing a man in his late forties or early fifties if Lucy Ann was any good at guessing ages, the type of man who looked as if he should be in an office with his stomach stretching out the front of his dress shirt as he complained to coworkers about the weekend game rather than in this well lit demonic summoning.
Beaming like a pastor with a room full of converts, the man smiled beatifically down at them.
Lucy Ann wanted to claw that smile off his face.
Ignoring the glares directed at him by roughly half the people bound to the circle below, he began to speak.
"Greetings! Though I wish this could be in different circumstances, I welcome you to our grand project. As many of you know, demons are rife in our world, their terror a plague upon humanity..."
It was physically painful for Lucy Ann to stop her eyes from rolling. The man continued on in that vein for a what seemed like an eternity, and though a few of the symbols looked like they were wavering, thinking he may have a point, most still looked terrified or furious.
Finally, after far too long, he began wrapping up his sermon, snapping into something akin to business mode, and Lucy Ann focused on him again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Catherine and Mina doing the same, with more of the others that she had yet to properly meet in this lifetime also looking intently at the man on the platform.
"...the most dangerous of them all, Alcor the Dreambender! Through extensive study, we have found that each of your souls corresponds to a symbol on his wheel. It's obvious that all your souls reborn at the same time is a major event. Alcor's behavior has been erratic, even for a demon, since the last of you were born."
Lucy Ann silently began listing all the curses she knew – and as old as she was, there were a lot of them, some she'd even invented earlier in the cell. Overprotective dork strikes again, putting people in danger by trying so hard to keep them safe.
And worse, the people around her were listening. That might have just been because this was the first explanation they were getting for why they'd been kidnapped, but she was still worried.
"We do not know why exactly he has been watching all of you, but we can guess. Ancient manuscripts..." Lucy Ann choked back a laugh, knowing exactly what 'manuscripts' they were talking about, and oh, how Mabel would have laughed about this, "say that 'Bringing these people together can quell Alcor's wrath', and there is only one way to quell a demon's wrath. Together, we shall either destroy Alcor the Dreambender, unholy offspring of nightmares and the void, and rid the world of the worst plague it has ever known, or bind him so tightly he shall never again be a danger to this world!"
"Be calm," he called as several of the captive began to panic, fighting their bonds or crying. "The manuscript is very clear that bringing harm to a symbol's incarnation will bring Alcor's wrath down upon those who do such a thing, and anger him more. None of you shall be harmed."
"But with all of us working together, all you need do is remain calm and cooperative. And soon, the Dreambender will either be bound, sealed away, or destroyed. Indeed, you should rejoice, to have been chosen by Fate to be part of this grand destiny! After our ritual is complete, the Dreambender will either be bound to our wills and subservient to our wishes, or better yet, sealed away, never again to plague humanity! While we regret what we have done to all of you, surely you must admit that the ends will justify the means?"
Ignoring everything else, a cultist stood behind each symbol with their attention firmly on the person they watched, and Lucy Ann thought she caught the glint of metal in more than one hand. Despite the pretty words, the reassurances that none of them would be harmed, she was fairly sure that if something started to go wrong, they did mean to spill blood tonight, to either bind or destroy her best friend – and this might be the spell and circle that could actually do it.
The cult leader began the chant, echoed by his robed followers, the sound growing and echoing in the huge room.
Under the cover of the noise, Lucy Ann began working the stake her manacles were chained to out of the concrete. It was slow work, working as she was to keep from being either seen or heard, and with the stake sunk so deeply into the concrete, but while the humans weren't strong enough to pull it free, Lucy Ann was far stronger than anyone her size had a right to be.
She was a bit surprised how long it was taking Dipper to answer the summons – he must have felt the seriousness of the summons, but she guessed he had only that vague 'feel' to go by, not nearly enough information to know that this was a summons he really needed to answer.
Knowing Dipper, he was ignoring it as long as possible so he could keep searching for them. Lucy Ann was not enjoying the irony of that.
There was no scent of blood to tell Dipper this summons was a bad one – just the feeling he got, sometimes, that said that this had the potential to be very, very bad.
But whatever it was, it overrode his irritation at being dragged away from his search, transmuting it to rage.
He hit the center of the circle on all fours, in his black and brickwork demon form, snarling and with bits of blue fire dripping from his claws. His wings arched, as tall as he was and wide enough to brush the edges of the circle.
Then his vision cleared from those brief seconds of disorientation a forced appearance still caused and he froze.
All of them. They were all here, every one of them, every single person he'd been searching for ever since the first disappeared.
And standing over each of them was a cultist with a knife.
The lines of the circle glowed with blue light, each line lit from within, each line, each symbol carved into the ground, all glowing with a light that shone brighter with each second, lines of neon blue carved into the floor.
The light pulsed, steady and rhythmic as a heartbeat, and with each pulse Dipper felt power coursing through him, pure and clean, a boost of power the likes of which he hadn't felt in centuries.
The cult leader, up on a platform, was chanting something, and Dipper could feel it trying to pull him down, seal him away, shred him into nothingness.
It was strong, too strong, and he could feel it pulling at the edges of his being...but the power of having all his symbols around him, in the circle, bolstered his strength, and he felt chains wrapping around his body only to slide off the shield of his symbol's light, shielded him from the knives made of magic and words that tried to shred his mind and body and magic, the spells and blood and symbols that would have left him writhing in pain if it weren't for the souls surrounding him.
Dipper started snarling, quietly, the snarl that went straight to the hind brain and flipped every switch marked 'RUN'.
More than one cultist stepped back, instincts overriding their determination to see this through.
"Stay strong!" their leader commanded from atop his platform. "We must complete the ritual! Alcor, you will submit to our wills, or their lives will be forfeit!"
The cultists raised their knives, the symbols beginning to struggle and curse, yell and cry, but Alcor's voice cut through it all, cold and soft and as human as a thrown knife.
"If any of you touch them, if they come to harm at your hands, then this life, and the one after, ten times over, I will seek you out, and I will devour your souls, until there is not enough left of you to reenter this or any cycle," he stated, flat and assured, not a threat but a promise written in stone.
The leader stepped back, staggered when he met those blazing gold eyes, unable to tear his own eyes away. In those eyes he saw his own death, and knew without a doubt that if they didn't pull this off, then that was his death in the circle, and it knew him.
It knew him, had marked him, and would never stop until it had him.
The cult hesitated, waiting for the word from their leader, knives poised. They had been promised no one need die for this, that if the people the symbols represented cooperated, then together, they would quell Alcor's wrath the only way a demon could be quelled – by death, or being sealed away.
It was the only possible thing that the Mizar who had penned those words and written this ritual could have meant.
But if there was no other alternative, if it was the lives of their captives or their own, then they knew what they would choose.
Better a quick death by knife than one at a demon's hands, and the chance to rid the world of the Dreambender.
"Alcor?"the Mizar across from Dipper said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room, looking at him solemnly before closing her eyes. "I trust you."
The words seemed to reverberate, vibrating through the glow of the circle's lines, the light growing ever brighter than before.
Lucy Ann grinned at Dipper from her side of the circle, baring hungry fangs, the grin of a starving wolf who sees their pack-mate about to make a kill they will share. "Kick their asses already, dork. What the hell are you waiting for?"
Dipper grinned back, the grin turning to a snarl in an instant, all his teeth bared, the gold of his eyes narrowed to slits as he crouched low. The power that was pulsing through the circle was making it hard to think, an overload of energy that pulsed to the same thought. My family. Mine. Protect them! You shall not touch them! Mine!
There was a blast of blue fire, forcing the cultists to stagger away from the chained symbols. It sank into the ground, flaring high through the lines, circling around the symbols protectively.
The cultists staggered away from the heat, though it was barely a pleasant warmth to the people inside the circle.
Inside the circle of fire, they couldn't see what was going on. Most sound was drowned out by the roaring of the flames, leaving them all well lit but unable yet to tell just what was going on, trapping them inside the wall of flames with the demon.
Then, with a roar, Alcor leapt over the flames and out of the circle.
"Bind him!" the head cultist cried out as Alcor leapt through the flames, teeth and claws bared. "Bind him now! The symbols are ours, use them!"
"T̢h̛e͢y ̵arè mi͡ne!" Alcor roared, a sweep of his claws sending blood spraying high into the blue flame, the fires reaching higher and roaring for more.
The chanting resumed, louder than earlier, a note of terror to it that hadn't been there before, and now that he was outside the circle Alcor could feel it binding him down, chains made of power biting into his wings and arms and back, and he thrashed violently, throwing them off with effort, feeling the power of his symbols and their belief in him (at least, the belief of those of him who had met him, and those who who rather take their chances with him then with the humans who'd brought them here) giving him the power to throw off magic that should have bound him for a short time at the very least.
The cultists panicked as Alcor ignored the circle, the circle that was meant to hold him, the one that had been promised would hold him, ignored the spell that Mizar had said would quell his wrath but only angered him more, and finally they broke and fled.
Their leader screamed for them to hold their positions, barely heard over the roar of the flames.
The fires around the circle rose even higher, a dome over the circle still holding the people whose souls corresponded to the symbols of Alcor's circle, drowning out the screams with their roaring.
And when the flames finally died down, the room was empty of life save for the people chained there.
None of them were sure just how long it had been that they had been left alone while the demon hunted down those who had dragged them here. It had been long enough for some of them to wonder if they'd been left there to die, yet short enough to fear when the noise of someone approaching filtered through the doors.
The doors burst open and the demon was framed there, light glowing around his figure, almost as if he were something holy.
He stood there, illuminated, like a hero out of a ballad, head down and hands gripping the doors hard enough to bend the metal, breathing heavily, and chills ran over each of them his eyes touched.
Slowly Alcor raised his head and his eyes traveled over them, taking in each of them individually, checking for something, only he would know what.
Then his face crinkled like a child's and he flung himself at Lucy Ann with a wail of her name, skidding on his knees to a stop beside her.
He snatched the tiny vampire up off the ground, the chains snapping at his touch, and hugged her tight, squeezing close and nuzzling at her cheek.
"You're okay you're okay you're okay," Alcor repeated, over and over again, hugging and cuddling the vampire like a stuffed toy. Around them, the symbols watched in various reactions of confusion, fear, and bafflement.
All save two, who were amused, tickled, and a bit worried. Even with a bit of experience with Dipper, they still hadn't expected a reaction quite that dramatic.
Lucy Ann, for her part, was humoring her best friend for the moment.
Then that moment ended and she started squirming to get free.
"I'm fine, put me down you absolute dork," she growled, even if it was a somewhat fond growl. "Before I rip your throat out. We don't have time for this."
To the surprise of most of the people in the room, Alcor did as he was told, setting the vampire down and scrubbing at his cheeks, which were covered in a mix of gold and clear tears, though he was still visibly worked up.
After giving the demon a brief moment to recover, Lucy Ann tugged his head down and whispered something in his ear. Alcor nodded and the two tapped fists with a quick burst of blue flame.
Alcor snapped his fingers and the walls of the warehouse melted around them, fading into a basement. Not much of an improvement to most of them, but Lucy Ann visibly relaxed.
The chains that had been keeping the rest of them tied down dissolved with the room, but that wasn't much comfort. The doors at the far side of the room looked to be locked, and there was a demon and vampire between them and it besides.
Then the demon turned to look at them.
And promptly burst into more tears and launched himself at the nearest person.
"SARVA!" he wailed, latching himself onto the young man, who fell back onto the ground at the impact. "Sarva! I was so worried about you!"
"Um...I...sorry?" the young man Alcor had latched onto stammered, hesitantly patting Alcor a few times as the demon buried his face in his shirt. "Thanks? ...um...little help here, someone?"
Everyone save Lucy Ann was too shocked to move and help him, and Lucy Ann was too busy smirking to help.
And then, as suddenly as he'd launched himself at the man he'd named "Sarva" – the ax on the wheel, if his neighbors remembered correctly – Alcor was launching himself at another symbol, hugging them just as tightly and covering their clothing with demonic tears.
After the first few, although most of the people there were still nervous and uncomfortable with the idea of being hugged and cried on by an overly emotional demon, the fear of him suddenly turning on them was mostly gone.
The confusion, however, was stronger than ever.
Even when everyone had been loved on, cried over and fussed over, Alcor didn't seem to be calming down any.
Mina took one for the team and coaxed him to latch onto her, a demonic koala of a brother, and shifted his grip until he hung on her back she could stand without him falling off.
"Does anyone here know what's going on?" Robin, the one Alcor had called Sarva, asked, a bit peevishly, now that Alcor was quiet and they could actually converse without the risk of drawing his attention. "Like, maybe, you two?" he said, pointing at Lucy Ann and Mina. "I think we'd all like some answers from someone who isn't a raging cultist lunatic. Like why that demon is still alive and not sealed away or dead – not that I'm saying I want him dead, mind you," he added quickly before the demon or its friend could take offense, "but they sounded pretty sure that circle and that spell were going to kill him. Or bind him, or something. And why's he freaking out over us like that?"
"You may want to settle in," Mina said, exchanging glances with Lucy Ann. "But I think I can explain some of it. Hey, you know where we are, Lucy Ann?"
"Why do you know things?" Florentino, the six-fingered hand, demanded, levering himself shakily to his feet. "Why should we listen to you?"
"I'm Mizar," Mina said simply, gesturing to the happily snuggling Alcor for proof. "And you may want to sit back down, 'cuz he told me everything, and I think you may be in for a bit of a shock."
She glanced around the room again, and winced. "And booze. We may need booze. Lots and lots of booze. Can you set us up, Lucy Ann?"
"Sure can. Come on, everybody. This is going to take awhile. May as well be comfortable while we do it. We've got a long evening ahead of us." The look Lucy Ann shot Alcor as she said that was a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Only this dork, I swear."