Lost But Not Forgotten

[Dr. McNinja]

Peter’s voice crackled through the intercom.

“Doctor, I’ve got a call for you on Line 2.”

“Thanks, Pete.”

Dr. McNinja was currently relaxing with his legs propped up on his desk. It was a slow day at the clinic, and the fluorescent lights were starting to bother Doc. But nonetheless, he had to stay at his station here, in case of emergencies… or calls to adventure like this. Doc pressed a button on his phone and put it on speaker.

“Dr. McNinja speaking.”

“Greetings,” an incredibly squeaky voice said, “My name is Lord Marlo Marovitch the Forty-Second.”

“Holy shit, the forty-second?” Doc exclaimed.

“I- yes,” the voice replied, clearly taken aback, “Funny, your nurse said the same thing.”

“Have there even been forty-two generations of people in the Crossroads?”

“We are weaselfolk,” Lord Marovitch explained, “We die and reproduce… quickly.”

“But still! They named forty-two of you Marlo Marovitch? In a ROW?”

Doc heard someone clear their throat. Peter had entered his office at some point, and was staring disapprovingly at the physician. Doc shooed him away, to no effect.

“So how can I help you, Lord Marlo Marovitch?”

“Well, I had heard you’re quite the expert on paranormal events from Liara T’soni.”

“Oh, Ms. T’soni!” Doc exclaimed, “Yes, she’s an acquaintance of mine. Small crush on her, to be honest.”

“That information is unnecessary,” Lord Marovitch scolded, “Anyways, I thought you might be interested in a certain offer I have.”

Doc rolled his eyes. These calls to adventure were a dime a dozen, and usually not very good leads. He prepared the usual rejection speech.

“Listen, Lord Marovitch,” Doc said with a sigh, “My adventuring habits are purely recreational. I don’t really take money for mercenary work.”

“Well, I just sent you an amount of Coin that I think you’ll find difficult to refuse.”

Doc sighed. “Now there’s no need to be hasty with your money, I think you’ll find my dignity cannot be bought-”

Peter gasped, staring at his phone. “Holy shit.”

“I’m hearing a lot of swearing from your clinic, it’s a tad unprofessional.”

Doc snapped his fingers at Peter, giving him the irritated “What are you doing?” look. Peter showed him the phone. It was the clinic’s bank account. Now, Doc wasn’t exactly poor, but his income was relatively modest. Doc and Pete both knew how much money should roughly be in there.

The number they saw on the screen now was practically theoretical.

Doc gulped.

“Uh,” Dr. McNinja stammered, “We can stop, if it pleases you. Like. Forever.”

McNinja could’ve sworn that he heard Lord Marovitch smirk on the other side of the call.

“I assume that you find the sum agreeable?”

“Can you even afford this? I don’t charge half this much for… literally anything.”

“Just a small portion of my coffers,” Marovitch boasted, “Anything for an up-and-coming scholar of the arcane. Well?”

Doc kept staring at the screen. “Uh. Yeah. We’re good.”

Peter’s brow nearly peeled back in shock and anger, and the nurse started gesturing furiously at Doc. Doc squeezed his whole face with his hands in panic.

“As in! As in we’re good to go! This is a good sum of money and I’d be very happy to work with you!”

“What’s the job?” Peter mouthed.

Doc nodded. “Uh, what’s the job?”

“I need you…” Lord Marovitch paused for effect. “...to prove that ghosts are fake.”

Doc and Peter stared at each other for a moment.

“Uh,” Doc said, “Ghosts are real.”

“Oh, not you too!” Lord Marovitch snapped, his squeaky voice somehow finding a higher octave, “They’re a hoax created by so-called psychics who think they can talk to the dead!”

“Psychics are real too.”

“Unbelievable!”

“We live in a crossroads of the multiverse,” McNinja exposited, “That’s why it’s called that, the Crossroads. Things from all over leak into the Crossroads, so… yeah. Some ghosts got through. Psychics too. I’ve worked with one twice now. He’s… a little crazy.”

“Well, I will have none of it!” Lord Marovitch snapped, “My friend the Lady Heidi Pennifold claims she knows a psychic who can perform seances. Thinks she’s been having chats with her - rest her soul - dead daughter. I need you to prove her wrong.”

“Oh, seances?” Doc blew a raspberry. “Yeah, those are usually fake. Although, uh… I don’t want to rub my science in someone else’s face. Disproving hoaxes is one thing, but sometimes people need their little illusions to get through life. If Lady Pennifold is mourning as you say, I’d hate to ruin the one link she has to her daughter. It’s kind of a dick move, actually, to try this hard to make someone who’s miserable go through more pain-”

“Check your bank account again.”

Peter looked at the screen. This time, he held his tongue as he showed Doc the new sum of money that came in. Doc shrugged with pursed lips.

“On the other hand, science is a cruel and cold mistress that only seeks the cold, hard truth.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lord Marovitch exclaimed, “Now, if you don’t managed to disprove ghosts-”

“Which are real.”

“Disprove seances, I will have to ask for that money back. I’ll pay you for your time regardless, but that sum of money is specifically for those who can find the truth!”

Doc raised an eyebrow. “I mean. We can just not give the money back. We didn’t sign a contract or anything.”

“My second cousin is Executor Selendis.”

“We’d be happy to refund you if my findings aren’t to your pleasure.”

“Glad we could reach an understanding,” Lord Marovitch said, audibly smirking again, “Well, I’ll have my secretary send you the details for the seance. Come prepared.”

And that was the phone call. Doc sighed and placed the receiver back on the phone.

“I feel like I didn’t have control of that conversation even once,” Doc whined.

“Yeah, that sucked.” Peter sighed. “So we really doing this? Like you said, I don’t feel comfortable raining on a mourning mother’s parade.”

Doc stretched. “I guess! You saw how much money he’s paying us.”

“If we succeed.”

“Oh please!” Doc chuckled, “Lord have mercy on the huckster that dared to step up against the scientific research of Dr. McNinja. Probably some idiot who doesn’t know his phantoms from his phantasms. I can’t wait to meet this stupid dumbo who thinks seances are real.”

***

Elsewhere in Arcadia, Mollymauk Tealeaf rubbed his itchy, pointed ear.

“So,” he cooed, “Where were we?”

 

[Mollymauk Tealeaf]

Jester stood behind Molly and slowly wrapped the scarf around his head and horns as he sat in front of the vanity, the cloth was a much lighter shade than the tarot-tiefling’s own lavender hue and he thought he looked absolutely smashing.

“Oooh, Molly! We should use some mascara to really make your eyes, like, pop! You know?” Said Jester as she finished tucking in the back of the head-wrap, her shoulders moving up and down in an excited little dance at her own idea.

“Sweet Jester, arbiters love ya, but I would rather not be getting poked in the eye again, their red enough as is, darlin’” Molly replied, and tried to sound as regretful as he could for the sake of her feelings.

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re probably just a little tiny bit of a crybaby?” She retorted quickly, well and truly put out. Her reflection in the oval mirror with gold inlay and filigree showed her displeasure as she squinted her pink eyes at him and wrinkled her face a bit.

“Jester! I can’t be going down ta meet our guest and do the seance with an eyepatch…” and he trailed off as they both looked at his face in the mirror and wondered about it.

“Not with the head-wrap,” They both said.

“Well, I think it is just wonderfull what you are doing for Lady Pennifold, she is really nice, actually,” Jester said and gave her fellow devil a hug, squeezing a little hard to the point the sitting blood-hunter had to tap her muscled arms so she knew to let go.

Molly took a second to stop seeing spots in his vision before daring to stand, then he flashed his winning rogue’s smile, complete with pointed fangs. “Are ya tryin’ ta make up fer not bein’ here tonight? I told ya, Sweet Jester, go on and have a good date. Fjord is as handsome as they come, and he might even be puttin’ on a bit o’ muscle there at cop school,” he teased.

“Oh, Molly, I didn’t tell you, they let him say he’s a cadet for the A.P.D. at all the donut shops, and he gets them…for free! She replied, beaming and clapped her hands a little.

“Hubba hubba.”

“I know.”

The resounding and unmistakable sound of the doorbell reverberated throughout the house, sounding as though a giant and a banshee had an abomination of a baby, and it was hungry and tired. When the tieflings took their fingers from one another’s pointed ears, they both said “Thanks.”

“I'll get it, you prepare. One last time for closure, Molly, and then you can try to sleep with her…probably. Can carnival people even sleep with royalty? Is that illegal?”

“Are you asking if that’s a carnival rule, or a royals rule?” Molly asked.

“Yes?” Jester replied, and with a shrug, left the room to answer the front door before it rang again.

Molly took himself in, giving full weight to the word ‘vanity’ as he checked his reflection in the fancy mirror attached to the small table. He felt himself again, in all his showman glory since procuring a replacement robe identical to the one he had lost somewhere in time and another reality ago. He gave a twirl, and reached into a random pocket, procuring a crystal ball to his reflection as he smiled.

“Mollymauk, ya beautiful bastard. Let’s go give some closure.”

Just then, his butler, Benson, came walking in the door, a corporeal ghost who could move through the walls of this home he was bound to, chose to always do things the natural way, which made him the exception to the other dozens of specters that filled the halls of the place.

“Ah, looking fine as ever, Sir,” Said the tall butler with a boxer’s build that filled out the black suit he wore, the ancient voice seemingly the only thing that had aged in his time stuck here. Benson made a face that looked as pained as ever, which meant he had bad news for one of the two owners of 1857 Dancing Chocobo Lane.

“Is something goin’ on with the ghosts, then? Anyone havin’ a bit o’ trouble with the part they are meant ta play tonight?”

“Well, Sir, ahem, it’s more a matt-”

“Pah! Well, enough o’ that, Benson, you’ll be putin’ em’ straight, I have no doubt, love. Go on an’ turn that frown upside down! It’ll all be fine, I promise ya,” Molly said cheerily, and clapped a shoulder on the butler’s back as the Devil Showman was handed a glass of wine.

“Mister Mollymauk, I do implore you TO LISTEN-” Came the call of Benson, but Molly was already spiriting himself down the long hallway as he chugged the vintage and tossed the crystal wine glass over his shoulder, as he heard a door open and shut, which he knew was the house swallowing it up to put it back in the kitchen. The tarot-man and blood-hunter was feeling gooood, unstoppable, unshakable, and as he came to the top of the stairs and laid his crimson eyes on the beautiful Lady Heidi Pennifold, he beamed and flashed his most brilliant smile. He raised his arms up and was silhouetted with impossible brightness and colors creating a festival of lights at his entrance, a pillar of majesty unto himself, head-wrap and all.

And then he saw the people standing around her in the grand foyer.

The lights dimmed, his smile faded, and then as realization dawned on him, it turned to a frown. He knew by descriptions given during their previous appointments who some of these people were. Her younger brother Lord Conifer Humdinger, who at the tender age of thirty-five was trying his hardest to break onto the rap scene, having now insisted he only be called by his common name Hummy-D. He was wearing a pair of overalls without a shirt underneath, a chain that could buy most people’s homes, and a hockey mask resting on top of cropped bleach-blonde hair.

“Damn, yo. This place is siiick,” said the middle-aged rapper. “Were gonna seance the fuck out of this bitch-” He was cut off by a slap to the back of his head from an older and well-dressed gentlemen, about Lady Pennifold’s age. “Yo, Silas, why you gotta slap me and shit, you ain’t my blood anymore, dawg.”

While the group was momentarily distracted, Molly went to Lady Pennifold and kissed her hand, having composed himself by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I do apologize, but they insisted…is it too much trouble?” She said softly, her pained eyes boring into Molly like they had from that very first encounter when it all started as a simple tarot-read at a party.

“Not even in the slightest, love. I just have ta confer with my associate fer a moment,” He said with a fangy smile.

“I believe I saw her chatting with the Doctor and his nurse. That poor shy boy, he had to be invited in. Country folk are always so polite, wouldn’t you say?”

Jester was by the door talking to Dr.McNinja and Peter when she was twirled around by her elbow to see the frightened red eyes of her best friend.

“Oh! Molly! Look who it is!” she said, and extended a hand to show Peter and the Doc. “I was just telling them what an amazing show they have in store for them, wink-wink,” and Jester turned to leave again, but was brought back around yet again to face Molly.

“Jester!” Molly hissed. “First, Ya don’t say ‘wink-wink’, ya just wink, love. Secondly, do NOT leave me alone with these people!” He pleaded.

“Molly, it will be fiiine, probably. I am sure McNinja and Peter will help in any way they can.”

“Wait, why’s Sexy-Nurse and Scientist-Samurai here?” asked the showman in a head-wrap.

McNinja spoke up. “Firstly, good to see you, Molly. Secondly, Doctor. Thirdly, Ninja. Fourthly? Hm. No. Finally, We are here to participate in the seance, and disprove it as a hoax,” McNinja finished and shook hands goodbye with Jester who was sneaking out the door.

“Jesterrr!” Molly growled with a whine.

“See? It sounds like fun, Molly. Ok, I gotta go, sorry, you’ll be great. Love you, ok, byeeee…” The blue trickster cleric was still singing her exit as the door closed as the three survivors from Havens Abbey looked at one another.

“Well, this is awkward,” Doc said, nodding.

“At least you’re not a nun anymore,” Peter chimed in.

Molly groaned.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

“Well,” Mollymauk sighed, “I should go get ready. You have fun trying to take apart the seance.”

“Always do! I love dismantling hucksters.”

“Mmhmm,” Molly replied, giving Doc a complicated expression. After a moment, the tiefling gave a curt bow and stormed off.

“What was that about?” Doc asked Pete.

“I dunno.”

“Was he always wearing that corny headwrap?”

Peter shrugged. “Listen, all I know about that man is that he keeps kissing my hand and refusing to learn your name.”

“It’s cause he wants to fuck you.”

“He wants to WHAT”

“Well, we should start getting our equipment ready,” Doc sighed, “Put the spectrometers at equidistant points, with this many people, we’ll probably need five… I’ll set up the radiometer, maybe our ghost is a Chernobylian phantom. With any luck, the person leading this will show up and-“

Molly cleared his throat. He had found his position at the head of a table in the middle of the room. As he did, the lights dimmed almost as if commanded until there was naught but a ring of light around Molly’s face. This was especially odd, considering the decrepit mansion was lit by candles in chandeliers, and not adjustable electrical lights. The other nobles watched the ceilings with fascination.

“Ooh, whoever’s in charge should be showing up soon!” Doc whispered to Peter, “Who do you think the scammer is?”

“Well,” Molly said with a practiced smirk, “Shall we get this started?”

Doc and Peter glanced at each other.

“Oh,” Doc finally said, “Oh… Oh dear.”

It was at this unfortunate time that Lord Marovitch found them. This was the first time they had met in-person, and Doc was alarmed by his appearance. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was weaselfolk. Lord Marovitch appeared to be an actual weasel in size and shape, but bearing the clothes and mannerisms of a stately gentleman. He wore an eensy-weensy top hat, a tiny little three-piece suit, and a monocle over one of his beady eyes.

“Well?” Lord Marovitch hissed, “Are you ready for the demonstration?”

Doc swallowed hard.

“Totally,” he lied.

***

After a brief negotiation, Mollymauk agreed to let Doc place his many gadgets around the room. This worried McNinja. Usually, this many scientific gadgets made anyone nervous, especially people who were lying. But Molly seemed incredibly confident.

“Who has something to hide?” Molly joked.

The answer was Molly. Molly had something to hide.

But for now, Doc had to make sure the seance wasn’t rigged by one of the many people here. The strangers were mostly family of Lady Pennifold, save for Lord Marlo Marovitch.

First was Silas Wayworth. Doc knew next to nothing about him, except for his name. He seemed to know the family well, given his interaction with Hummy-D over there. And the way he stood next to Lady Pennifold was… weirdly hostile. What was he even doing here?

“So how do you know Lady Pennifold, Silas?” Dr. McNinja asked casually as the others mingled.

Silas was a built man, with a bit of a belly. He was wearing a three-piece suit made of tweed, and a bow tie. His handlebar jousts he was gloriously and meticulously groomed, which contrasted heavily with his rather messy hair. His eyes had a hint of red in them. Perhaps he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

Silas cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, she’s my ex-wife.”

Doc placed a hand to his mouth. “Oh. Oh gosh. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

“So uh… how come you’re at the seance? Doesn’t seem like you and Lady Pennifold are the amicably-divorced type.”

Silas raised a brow. “Esmeralda was my daughter too.”

Doc swallowed hard, then nodded. “Right. That’s how. Families work.”

Silas cleared his throat again. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a smoke.”

Silas departed. Peter watched Doc’s masked face with fascination.

“How do you fuck up a first impression THAT badly?”

“You shush,” Doc hissed as he made his way to a lady. Hopefully he wouldn’t fuck this one up.

From the email he got, McNinja assumed this lady was Ashikaga Ayaka. He knew next to nothing about her otherwise as well. But it’s not like Lady Pennifold would invite both of her exes, right?

“Hi, Lady Ashikaga, I assume?”

Lady Ashikaga looked up from her stupor. She seemed distracted. She was dressed in a kimono with fur lining around the neck, presumably to protect against the cold. She was stunningly beautiful, and had what could inexplicably be called a kind face. The only blemish on her porcelain face was a small scar that rested under her nose.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Dr. McNinja,” Doc said with a friendly smile that Lady Ashikaga surely couldn’t see.

“Ah, you’re the scientist who wants to disprove the seance, aren’t you?” Lady Ashikaga replied. There was a hint of a Japanese accent.

“I- well, I’m here to make sure everything’s up to code, as it were.”

“One wonders what kind of man would try and rob mourning parents of their only way to talk to their child.”

Doc swallowed hard again. “So how do you know Lady Pennifold?”

“I don’t, actually,” Lady Ashikaga replied, “Not personally. I’m with Lord Wayworth.”

“Ah. How do you know him then?”

Lady Ashikaga sighed. “Like I said. I’m with Lord Wayworth.”

Doc squinted, then tilted his head back in comprehension. “Oh man. This must be awkward for you.”

“No more than this conversation.”

Dr. McNinja pursed his lips. Lady Ashikaga watched Doc’s face curiously.

“I can’t help but notice you named yourself McNinja.”

“Oh, it’s my family’s name. Long Irish tradition.”

“And the mask?”

“Yeah.”

Lady Ashikaga paused. “You know, we still have ninja where I’m from.”

“Oh?” Doc said excitedly.

“Yes, they were vile assassins who would brutally murder children for money.”

“Oh.”

“Just thought you’d want to know about the culture you’re appropriating. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see if Silas is okay.”

Doc watched Lady Ashikaga leave. Peter giggled.

“Two for two,” the vampire said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Doc sighed.

And so it was after a couple more minutes that Doc and Pete found themselves sitting next to Lord Marovitch at the large round table in the center of the room. Doc shifted uncomfortably as Lord Marovitch stared at him intently.

“You seem nervous,” Lord Marovitch noted.

“Do I?”

“You’re not afraid of ghosts, are you?”

“What? No. I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.” Doc chuckled to himself, laughing at an inside joke.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Before Dr. McNinja could reassure Lord Marovitch, Mollymauk cleared his throat with a light scowl.

“Quiet, please.”

Doc looked down awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“If everyone could form a ring with their hands,” Molly said. He gave Lady Pennifold a quiet little smirk and a wink. “Lady Pennifold, your hand, please.”

“Yo, we’re actually gonna hold hands and shit?” Hummy-D exclaimed.

“It’s how you channel the spirits,” Molly explained, “Our joined life forces will help usher them back to the world of the living.”

Dr. McNinja scoffed, earning him a hard elbow from Peter.

“Well, I need to read our scanners,” Doc explained, “So… you have fun calling the spirits and all.”

The nobles more-or-less ignored McNinja as they joined hands. Molly closed his eyes, his purple eyelids flickering slightly. When he opened them again, his pure red eyes were glowing an ethereal shade of white.

“I call upon the spirits of the deceased,” Mollymauk chanted, his voice a quivering tenor, “I call upon the spirits of the deceased to return to the world of the living!”

“Wow, just rawdogging it, huh?” Doc muttered, “No incantations of protection or offerings or anything… just calling the spirits.”

That comment earned him several glares from around the table, but Doc shrugged. Molly, for his part, seemed unperturbed by the disturbance. His eyes continued to glow white, and a shimmering light began appearing down his throat.

Doc’s eyes grew wide as he read his monitors. Peter gave him worried glances.

“Uh, spectrometer’s reading 5.5 hertz, Doc,” Pete read, “the radiometer’s red, and I got four bars on the Werscher meter.”

Doc rubbed his chin. “Oh my god he’s actually calling ghosts.”

“At least it’s only four bars.”

“I call upon you, Esmerelda Pennifold! Your parents are here!”

The shimmering stopped abruptly as Mollymauk continued to speak. His eyes returned to their normal shade of red. Doc raised an eyebrow.

“Is nobody noticing that his ghost powers aren’t working anymore?”

“Esmeralda,” Molly kept going, apparently not noticing the glitch, “We are calling you here!”

Doc glanced at his scanners, amused. This job was easy-

Oh dear.

“Spectrometer at… 30.6??” Doc exclaimed.

Peter swallowed hard. “And we got eight bars on the Werscher scale!”

Doc looked up. “Something’s wrong.”

 

[Mollymauk Tealeaf]

Overall, Molly thought things were going pretty good so far.

All it took was a quick little sidebar with Benson and the two of them had tweaked the plan to give these rich folks a real and proper experience, regardless of stare-downs from tiny weasels in top hats, he was not about to let Lady Penifold down. The Devil in a Headwrap held tight to the slender fingers with the most immaculate manicure he had ever seen that were laced between his own. If the Weasel Baron and Ex-Husband wanted to hire a couple of ghostbusters that Molly knew to be legit as fuck, so be it, he would pivot, and the show would go on.

The Tielfing’s only gripe so far had been when he had his butler put out a request for a volunteer to enter his body in the floating and bright spiritual-ball form that ghosts liked to take on sometimes, it was one of the creepy ones whose name he hadn’t learned yet that answered the call.

You know, the kind of ghost you find standing at the foot of your bed in the morning, staring unabashed in a way that makes you wonder if they had been there all night.

The spirit-ball moved up and down his throat in a suggestive way, and Molly’s fear was confirmed when he felt a small groan of pleasure emit from the undulating ghost in glowing-sphere-form wandering about his insides. The seance leader reacted immediately by stabbing the charm he kept in his boot into his heel, the pentagram with a moon sliced through the middle pushed into his foot’s skin and the creepy spirit was expelled from him, off to wander another part of the house- which he hoped was alright because, well, the house had made it explicitly clear how much it cherished the motley assortment of specters that roamed its halls.

When he felt the light vanish, Molly kept going, calling out to a spirit that could in no way enter this house, wondering if anyone had caught the little trick now gone awry.

The answer was McNinja. McNinja had noticed, and then made it very clear to everyone else before he got distracted by his machines, which told Molly it was just about time for the second act.

“Molly…” Doc said warningly as his hardware beeped and blared, the brilliant and blue eyes of McNinja meeting the red and pupiless orbs of the Purple Peacock. Molly winked. The Doc’s blonde brow furrowed, and then the real fun began.

“Oi, mighty spirit of the lost daughter, we ask ya ta come back fer a moment ta the land o’ the livin’ -GAH!” Molly roared the request, his stage presence commanding, and right on cue, dozens of ghosts burst through the walls as the room seemed to warp inward and outward simultaneously, which the Devil Showman thought was a nice touch from the house.

A few things all happened at once.

The lights flickered and the ghosts swarmed about, Hummy-D and Ms. Ayaka both lurched towards Silas for safety. Lady Penifold threw herself into Molly’s arms as the Tiefling put on his bravest hero act, looking stalwart towards the swarm of specters he knew well, while Lord Marovitch scurried undignified towards his hired help, unceremoniously scampering up Dr. McNinja and wrapping himself adorably around the Doc's shoulders to resemble the fur lining of Ms. Ayaka’s kimono.

“I do say!” The Weasel in Top Hat shouted indignantly over the static, while adjusting his monocle.

Peter covered his head, acting as though the flying spirits were swooping birds.

Doc, a veteran of the weird, harrowing, dangerous, and positively silly, did not take his eyes off Mollymauk. He held a narrowed blue gaze that shined in the opening of the balaclava, holding the same furrowed brow even as the house and ghosts helped put on a seance of a lifetime.

“Touché, little devil man…but you'll find I'm not so easily distracted-”

“What?! What are you saying, man! Speak up, will you!” Interrupted Lord Marovitch, still wrapped like a shawl around the Doc.

“Doc? Are you saying something?! Is it an idea? The machines are being pushed to full capacity!” cried a worried Peter as he waved his arms, trying to swat away spirits.

Meanwhile, Molly looked into the radiant face of Lady Penifold and flashed a pained smile with a little bit of rogue mixed in, showing a bit of fang as he put on his most sincere face.

“I've got ta get ta the eye o’ this storm, love,” he began, solemnly, his red eyes flashing.

“Molly, no-”

“Shhhh…” Molly replied, putting a purple finger to her lips. He stood up and leapt onto the circular hardwood table, another nice touch from the house when asked to procure a ‘seance room’. It was time for the finale, and the showman straightened his headwrap as he gave his robes a flourish, procuring a crystal ball that he held up towards the ceiling and swirling ghostly forms.

“Esmeralda! Esmeralda, I call out ta ya. Don't get lost in the seas o’ the beyond, follow my voice, Esmeralda!” Molly, in full showman cadence was practically shouting. He stood proud, like a statue of old, the crystal held high.

Then his legs were taken out from underneath him, and he landed on the table with an ‘oof’, before rolling off the table to the floor with another ‘oof’. He stared up to see Mcninja squatting over him, a knee on his scarred chest.

“Molly…end this, now,” Mcninja said, more like a disappointed teacher than in any real threatening way.

“I'm not hurtin’ anyone ya sneaky bastard, getoffame!” Molly wheezed, trying to catch his breath again.

“No protections, no knowledge of the-” Doc started to chide.

“No knowledge? Yer not the only one with experience…Arbiter’s Nut-Huggers ya sorry excuse fer a nun…did ya not read the sign out front?” Molly growled through small breaths.

“Ok…why didn't you have any in place?” Doc asked, as the people around the table started to react to what in gosh-darn-heck had just happened.

“The house doesn’t like it, love. It has its own protections, ya couldn't summon a half-cocked imp even with some Angel Blood and Demon Semen…” Molly said, getting his composure back as everyone was starting to get closer.

Doc was thoughtful for a moment, considering the implications and applications of the recipe Molly had described, and the Tiefling used the distraction to buck him off and scramble up.

“Lord Marovitch, what is the meaning of this?! Your man just goes on the attack, unprovoked?” Shot Lady Penifold at her Weasel friend, who in turn stared daggers at Mcninja with beady eyes from where he had been placed in Peter's arms.

“Still adorable…” the Doc muttered, seeing Lord Marovitch being held like a baby.

“YO, Molly, He straight up swiped them legs from under you, dawg. If he came at me like that? BLAT! BLAT! BLAT! Ya know what I'm saying?” Came the annoying voice of Hummy-D, his privileged upbringing still discernible through his best efforts to hide it, even as he made guns with his hands and fired them at McNinja.

They were all crowded around now. Silas with his arm around Ms. Ayaka’s waist, both shaking thier heads in the Doc’s direction.

“Oh come on now, he's fine. I saw this guy cut his way through parademons-” and the Good Doctor saw too late the frantic Stop. Stop. Please Stop. of Peter's gesturing with the vampire's free hand.

“You know this man?! Well, I do say. Sir, I DO SAY!” Came the reproach from Lord Marovitch.

Molly cut in.

“The Good Doctor is an expert, and he was worried fer yer safety is all. He needn’t be, the ghosts are all gone now anyway…oh.” said Molly, taking pity on the man he had once seen riding a unicorn-motorcycle up a refuse tower to fight a clown. The Lavender Showman had stopped and trailed off as he noticed the ghosts had not left, and were in fact all staring at something, terrified.

McNinja, never one to miss a beat, was beside Molly in an instant as they approached the circular seance table together, looking at the item in the center of it.

“Monster house with a cadre of friendly ghosts?” The Doc whispered out of the side of his mouth for Molly’s pointed ears alone.

The Tiefling nodded and flashed a small grin.

“Classic,” said McNinja, shaking his head as they both examined the golden eight-armed candelabra on the table.

“Summoning Menorah,” they both concluded.

“That look like Angel Blood filling those holders?” Asked the Doc.

“Yeah, but yer not gonna want ta know what I think it’s mixed with,” replied Molly.

“Fuck,” they both added. Then came the rumbling, like an earthquake, or the roaring anger of a sentient haunted mansion, and in the corner of the seance room, a ghost Molly had never seen before started screaming.