NaNoWriMo Day 17- day 1 of section 14

Keepses refrained from telling whole plan just yet, but they set off [walking?] back to [location] where Keepses would be able to brief everyone fully on his plan.

[The conversation turns to maybe something to do with why Mothman hadn't gone to agency- I believe I wrote it as, a personal vendetta- but now they know that Moone's a good guy, so they still aren't taking this to any agencies, because they're still after them. Connected to this, the personal vendetta thing, Moone tries to assuage Keepes's doubts about his representation of the Mothman to get into the summit.]

"Nobody at Tetragrammaton knows you're working with me. Nobody knows you even helped me the first time, giving me the intel I needed about the summit I didn't know was taking place. I had your aura, and your suit, but as far as I know they probably just figured that I killed you and replaced you at some point, to get in, and didn't suspect that the aura was gifted me."

"Probably slipping in through one of my past lives, is how you'd be able to do that," Keepses surmised. How easily he was able to plot, even on the hypothetical.

"Right," Moone said. "That would make sense. " And then, with a tinge of sarcasm: "like I've casually got the gift of time travel."

"Well," Keepses said without missing a beat. "The Pontifex. He'd be able to access the Dreamtime, from what I've pieced together of his powers, right?" The Pontifex nodded in affirmation. "And in the Dreaming, every man is also all his ancestors, past and present exist simultaneously. Another reason I'd love to get ahold of Pontifex's aura, even just a little bit."

Pontifex shrugged, seeming genuinely intrigued by the possibility, but Moone cut in, informing Keepses that if the Pontifex truly were to access the entirety of the Dreamtime, he himself would be the portal, thus die in the process.

Keepses had nothing to say on this point.

"And you still can't have the aura," Moone added.

Pontifex opened his mouth slightly. "Well," he said. "Maybe just a part of it. It would be interesting, I think."

Moone rolled his eyes at the sky. "What? No. Absolutely not-- I mean, you're a free agent, and our contract isn't any sort of, indentured, sort of servitude, but... I'm not sure how my aura would react if your aura started slipping off of it with my own bane and boon twisted up around each other. It could maybe, strangle me, or something."

"Right, I'm not suggesting now," the Pontifex said. "Besides, that twisting is the only thing keeping us from being tracked down right now."

"You still can be tracked down," one of Keepses's men piped up, a burly man with white warpaint on his boarlike face. "I mean. We did it."

"Not through Moone's or my aura," said the Pontifex.

"But there are many other ways to [track someone,]" the agent said darkly.

"So you did that," said Moone, eyeing Keepses again, suspiciously. "And you want me to give up my-- the Pontifex's-- aura. Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder--"

"If we wanted to sell you out," said Keepses, maybe a bit too quickly, "we would have done so by now."

And at that moment, a figure jumped out of the [foliage of the Bahamas] somewhere ahead of them. He had a long black overcoat, a wide-brimmed very tall top hat, and was wielding a straight razor with a manic look in his eyes. He tilted his head back and bared his teeth, eyes wide open-- and then lunged toward Moone.

And I'm nodding off here practically. I'm sorry. That's a good place for a chapter break anyway.