Repurposed 20.2

Interval 20.2
June 11, 2018
2030, BMRC
Observation Deck/Helicopter Pad



The sun had set, but the sky was still brilliantly illuminated both by the remnants of the sunset under the sparse cloud cover, as well as the glimmering stars. The moon had slipped away before the sun, earlier in the afternoon, its weak crescent of reflected light wouldn't have been as vibrant as the whole of the night time sky.

In the dry, still-warm air were particles of dust and sand, sometimes visible in the trio of lights that cast cones of white downward from their spots along the building walls. Tiny bugs also moved in the air, speedily gathering on those lights in futile gestures of affection or hunger.

There were a good number of people standing out on the mesa this night, some as per habit, but many others because they had been invited or requested. Far more Vortigaunts than usual dotted the area, mostly in clumps or pairs, chatting in both English and Vort. They didn't seem discomforted by the gnats, but the occasional Human hand could be seen flashing before a face, trying to scare the bugs away.

It was to this host of visitors that Melissa looked from under the cover of darkness, a faint smile on her lips; that darkness waned now and again with the visible glow near her face. Someone had found her a lovely lace shawl, she'd decided it would look nice with her white skirt and a darker shirt. Beneath the shawl though, was more than just her freckled shoulders. Her infant girl rested there, all of three days old and already seeming to take interest at those faces around her; alert and awake but not fussing under the shawl. She'd been cleaned, fed, did the obligatory spitting up on Paxton's own shoulder half an hour before. And now, it was time for her to be properly shown off.

A much smaller group knew the reason behind this oddly large gathering. That there even needed to be a reason, beyond it just being an absolutely perfect sunset and stargazing night, was hardly obvious.

Geoff and his brother had brushed shoulders, spoken quietly, and gone to the sides of their respective ladies. Alyx seemed to be quite comfortable beneath Geoff's strong, casually-protective arms, nestled as she was close up to his chest. They had taken a place by one corner of the observation deck's structure: a spot which Geoff could use to his ever-present advantage, as all three of the entrances to the helicopter pad could be viewed from that point. Alyx, too, seemed comfortable at that specific location; she would never have questioned it as a good vantage, though she wouldn't have put it in so many words. She felt safest there… She felt safest in his arms there.

It was unusual to see Lynne present, she'd often fled to Black Mesa simply to avoid Paxton and his powerful mind. But she had managed to remain fairly calm when Melissa invited her up to this event. She surrounded herself with others; try as she might, she could not escape that overwhelming rush of power. Still, Lynne understood how important this event was – not just to Mel, but to her child as well. Lynne's own amazing offspring were around somewhere, even if they hadn't come along with her directly, they would shortly be attracted, like those moths near the lamps, to the Vortal shine up here.

Rex and Jillian and their two children, two and three years old now, drifted toward the other parents in attendance; among those were Outlanders as well as Pantheon folk. Paxton had spoken to Rex earlier in a frank, humbled tone about how not to get baby-barf in his hair and immediately been laughed at. Similarly, Jillian and Melissa had spoken about various child-rearing tactics, and Melissa had expressed her relief that her own daughter hadn't tried burning her way out. Though truth be told… Melissa might have considered that a blessing – or more accurately, Wilson might have.

Wilson had been gone more than a day, but only just, and had barely returned when he was dragged outside to this bewildering gather by Mars of all people. She went off to join Barney and several others of that group, waiting for the action to start, or just there to watch the stars and drink. To the 'evening regulars', this gathering was a little noisy. That might have been because there were plenty more family units than normal.

A handful of those Outlander and Pantheon children rushed by Wilson's legs, and he froze the moment they did. Three of them ran circles around him, chasing one another loudly. Among them was Dolores's first child, the eldest of the Pantheon's second generation, and among the strongest telekinetics they had. He sped over the ground, barely even touching his feet every few steps: he would be a flier, anyone could tell that much.

A younger girl grabbed onto Wilson's pant-leg and mocked her friends, ducked behind him, and then sped around when they spotted her again. He noted that her presence was accompanied by a distinct chill – where she'd been gripping his knee, he almost had frostbite. Another child managed to stomp his booted foot as he caught up with the girl, hard enough for Wilson to feel it. What were these kids? Little gods.

Wilson did nothing but wait it out, he had no desire to start being scary toward kids. As long as they were treating him like he was yet another obstacle in their games, that was fine, but he didn't dare make any sudden moves. It hadn't really sunk in yet, that he wasn't so dangerous: he held his grandchild for hours and with such care that he'd all but forgotten any danger existed. But just in case, Wilson wasn't going to pick any of these kids up by the scruff of their neck and bring them to their parents. Those parents, he could spot them by their half-horrified, half-hilarious expressions.

Though entertaining enough, it did mean that he couldn't really join up with anyone else in the adult crowd, just yet. He was pretty sure that Barney had set up a still there at Black Mesa, though whatever was in their beer bottles probably wasn't as easy on the gut as any of Hoyle's selection.

Two of the Vorts nearby shuffled the children away, but took long, unblinking looks at Wilson as they did so. The kids didn't cling, rather they gave chase in another direction soon enough. Wilson didn't move, yet, choosing instead to just revert to his watch and learn mode, and though he didn't have his long leather coat for the occasion, he did momentarily go completely invisible.

Obviously Wilson didn't yet feel terribly comfortable around either children or Vortigaunts. He could slip away, unseen like that. But still, it would be very, very bad form to leave now. He hadn't even had time to really tell anyone what he'd been up to. While he stood immobilized and silent, invisible, he watched as his prime and Eli came out of the elevator together and smiling; almost anyone who knew them thought that this was somewhat unusual, and there was a faint amount of murmuring to that effect. Mostly it was from Mars and Barney, they had known Eli longer than most others at this gathering. Wilson's own reaction was held back a bit: he felt a tumultuous mix of emotions from the Mystery, and wasn't certain what he should think.

He also felt something odd from Melissa, who he'd noted was here along with everyone else. Not just the I'm a new mother odd, or the I can see my feet again, yay odd. She was hiding something. But it didn't look like she was concealing anything when she paused and asked one of the other, more sedate children near her something that Wilson couldn't hear. That child pointed, having spotted Wilson lurking there in the dark. He decided it was no fun trying to hide from the Pantheon. They almost invariably cheated Vortally and saw through his camouflage. It hadn't occurred to him that Melissa had asked the child as a challenge to the boy, rather than for any lack of her own ability to locate him with those same Vortal eyes.

"Oh good, you're back," Melissa said as she approached, smiling but quickly glancing around like she had more on her mind. Wilson's invisibility wavered and was dropped while she spoke. "I'm glad you didn't miss this." Even though Paxton was standing right there, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a warm kiss on Wilson's overly-stubbly cheek. "We'll be starting soon. Don't go anywhere," she instructed him.

It appeared that Pax was far too tired to do anything more than nod weakly and blink at his sire, but an off-kilter grin spread on his thin lips. Something felt very bizarre about the whole night, Wilson just couldn't put his finger on it. Though at least he had gotten a reasonably good night's sleep, in a proper bed and everything. Pax didn't have that option, and Wilson knew he couldn't have felt all that happy to see him.

When Noah shuffled near, his distinctly drooping ear-cones and creaky gait telling him apart in the darkness from any of the other red-eyed aliens, Melissa both perked up and grew more serious. They spoke very quietly, and presumably in Vort, since Paxton gave one of those shoulder-rolls and head tilts as he still didn't understand what was said just by listening. Noah then turned and headed over to his kinfolk, but paused for a moment as he passed the Mystery.

Noah, as per his typical responses, all but ignored anything and anyone that was not completely relevant to his needs at the moment. Therefore Eli put up a semi-surprised and fully comedic frown when Noah began chatting at the Mystery without so much as a hello. The Mystery on the other hand, gave Eli a faintly guilty laugh and urged him to find Alyx, then devoted more attention to the eccentric alien.

Had anyone been near enough to hear them, they would have heard the same oddly accented not-quite-modern Vortigese that Noah had blurted out on occasion. The fact that the Mystery spoke that flawlessly as well was obvious to no one – half the people near them didn't even understand modern Vort, and most of those Vortigaunts present were at a loss as to the meaning of those oddly spoken words as well. Not to mention the fact that only Noah would be so bold as to speak at all with that being.

Melissa took a moment to collect herself, adjusted the child in her arms, and began to walk toward a group of the Vorts.

"She looks like a little glow-bug," Alyx whispered to Geoff, as Mel passed them.

"She is a little glow-bug," Geoff whispered back. He had no problem with the Antlion grubs, though comparing them to this baby at all, or certainly out loud let alone anywhere near Mel, would likely get him smacked upside the head. But the baby was bundled up, looked to be about the same size as those creeping larva… Eli arrived next to them just as Melissa was greeted by the Vorts. Paxton and Wilson trailed behind her a bit, and somewhere, the Mystery stood watching as well, though for the moment no eyes were on him.

As one, heads turned toward the blond haired woman, since she spoke in a voice that was meant to be heard. "I want to thank you for coming," she said in general, but aimed more toward the Vorts. "It's a tremendous honor, tan tash turr mah-dan." She didn't bother translating, it was clear to whom she was really speaking about that honor. She gazed at their strange faces, how different they were from Humanity's, yet she saw nothing unusual about them. "You've been very tolerant of me in the past, and I want you to know that I appreciate that. I know I can be a bit overbearing." An assortment of the Vortigaunts gave off their rumbling, chuffing laughter in agreement with her statement. So spoke she who was blunt.

"So I'm thankful that you've named me, and Paxton, you named us all over the years," Melissa glanced down at her daughter, "and you've offered to bestow a title to my child as well. I think it's fitting that you do it. I think you can see clearly where we, sometimes, are blind." She paused again, waiting as they took turns being more humble than one another. Though at least a few of these Vorts had spent plenty of time at the Enrichment Center before they'd come to Black Mesa, they didn't recognize, even after more than ten years around her, the expression on her face, when she continued.

"And I will certainly accept the name that you give her, I'm sure that it will be exactly what she should be called."

"The honor," said one of the Vorts, "is ours." He began to extend his thin, two-fingered hands toward Melissa, but she remained where she was. The rest of the Vortigaunts had moved over, and more or less formed a circle, somewhat over the helicopter pad's markings.

Melissa took in one slightly deeper breath, and relaxed to her newest task. "But… Before you do, I have a request."

The gathering of Vorts didn't think that this was so terribly unusual. After all, Lynne and Jillian both had been acutely aware of their children's naming. Particularly after their firsts – when it came time for their second children to be gifted of a Vortigese title, they spoke up. Perhaps like their requests, it would be make it something we can pronounce, or keep it short and simple.

It was not.

Melissa's grin was caught only by those Humans standing nearby gathered with their children, or beyond the pack of Vorts by the impromptu bar that Barney had assembled; and none of those people understood it, particularly when combined with that gleam in her eyes. "I realize that it's pretty far from conventional. But… Before you name my daughter, I ask that you name him," she very clearly indicated Wilson who was standing off to her right.

If there was a moment of communion among anyone, the Vorts as well as Wilson shared their raw surprise.

"I know that you refused to name him, but… that was a long time ago. He isn't the same as he was before. And neither are you," Melissa asserted, as some of the local Human folk quietly muttered about this new twist. "And I know it goes against your traditions, but really." She flashed her eyes toward Noah, who had the Vortigaunt equivalent of a stupidly wide grin on his long face. "We've all grown and changed, and there surely must be some name that you can give. He deserves that much. Without him, I wouldn't have a daughter to name. Without him, I wouldn't even exist."

Wilson hadn't moved, except for his eyebrows, which stood stiffly above his extremely surprised eyes. He moved those eyes to check the Vorts: they were equally as stunned. Only after a few moments of her silent half-smiling gaze at them, did it become apparent that Melissa was absolutely serious about this. She hadn't handed her child off to any of the Vorts, not even Noah, and the Humans in attendance continued their own muttering in slightly quieter tones than the flux-shifting Vortigese that rippled through the gathering.

In that moment of reassessment, Wilson took it upon himself to move the few strides closer to Melissa. But then stood numbly, unable to speak once he'd gotten there. Melissa glanced up at him, smiled as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about this at all, and spoke for him.

"I told you, I had a surprise for you," she said, "do you really think that we'd been putting off naming her this long, and this wouldn't come up?" Melissa rolled her eyes and giggled.

He turned his still-shocked face toward Paxton, "you knew she was—"

"Of course I knew, you dumb fuck," Paxton chuckled, then winced as Melissa elbowed him in the gut with her free arm, and waited for the very predictable peal of laughter from his adorable daughter. "It's still up to them whether they do it or not," he added, rubbing his stomach.

They both looked past Melissa toward those Vorts, all of whom had gathered in their bigger circle. As per their tradition, a portion of their group stood facing outwards, guards against any errant incursions. They were still included in the deeply thrumming conversation, obviously; but no Human knew how they'd been chosen for those posts, or if there was some reason behind doing it at all now: even though they all knew there were no overt threats here.

Paxton very briefly had an unusually stomach-turning flashback: Xen would still never be the comforting place that the Mystery wanted it to be for him. Xen meant Vortigaunts gathered around him, undistinguished from any other predatory creature in his childhood's worst moments. Though this was not Xen, those sounds the Vorts made and their postures, their eerie glowing along with the brilliant night-time sky, caused Paxton to feel a little bit queasy.

To Wilson as well, his own gut churned with memories of Xen. Before Paxton had been created, before he'd even thought about the options open to him at Armacham, he'd stood in that circle on a distant island in the sky. Heard those voices, though they spoke different words, and he at least understood most of them. They were not arguing now, so much as mulling over the issue, which Wilson thought was a vast improvement over the last time he'd heard them thus. He was positive that at least three or four of the dozen or so Vorts had been there then, for his not quite naming.

Noah's voice did dominate the ring of Vorts, there was a bit of contention about this tradition-breaking idea. But much sooner than expected, they reached a consensus. It was Noah as well that turned toward Wilson and Melissa, head swinging as he stepped out of their circle. "It is well," he intoned. "We shall ponder this new wrinkle. The night is young, and we would not rush this decision. Ha-kshaa zurr'dey."

Mutely, Wilson nodded and watched as Noah then turned again, and the circle of resonant voices started up once more. This time, there were long pauses, and on numerous occasions one or another of them would look at Wilson with those crimson eyes half-lidded. He knew he ought to have been in the center of their group, but he'd already done that once before, and he wasn't about to do it again, with Mel's overt confidence in him or not.

Go on, you stubborn thing, the Mystery urged him, though he himself remained casually immersed in darkness somewhere nearby. The worst they can do is add a The to your title. The Vortal equivalent of a sarcastic eye-roll followed.

Wilson blinked several times and looked around, failing to locate his prime, and completely unable to comprehend where that kind of humor had come from. Though the dig was meant to chide him along into action, the edge of the Mystery's mind was shaky; Wilson had never really felt that from him, and wondered yet again what had gone on in the day he'd been up at Hoyle's place. He himself had some interesting things to discuss, but this obviously took priority.

He swallowed at the lump in his throat, recalling that he hadn't had such a thing for a very long time, aside from those horrible moments-with-Melissa while trying not to cry. Fine. Wilson crammed any hint of unease away and started walking toward the Vorts. They were a bit surprised at that, but continued to flux-shift and wave their third hands at him as he tried not to look as terrified as he felt.

He stood a good foot taller than most of them, as they were bent by nature more than habit. He wanted to crouch. He wanted to curl up into a ball. If he'd ever known how Paxton had looked and felt while he was being examined for his title, and how desperately Paxton would have wanted to rise and run, Wilson might have considered the irony delicious.

The Vortigaunts sized him up, for a moment giving off the impression that they would rather not have had this intrusive change to their traditions. He was the unnamed, he was supposed to remain that way. But then, that was said primarily by that one Vort, with the tie on. Wilson wasn't certain that that one liked anything, let alone accepted the idea that they were going to be awarding him a new title.

Wilson didn't even attempt to listen to the Vorts' words after that point, instead he concentrated on the skies above. Finally he closed his eyes: the Vorts' bright green-white glow was too distracting, visually and Vortally, to be able to see any constellations properly. His shoulders relaxed, even if he wasn't quite at ease he still allowed their less-than-gentle intrusion onto his own Vortessence. They tested him, sought things, they didn't dig so deeply that he felt it inappropriate. Sooner than it had been the first time he'd been examined in this manner, less than twenty minutes in fact, they brought their voices to a steady chant.

Wilson repeated to himself fervently and frequently that he would not scream, he would not cry, not teleport away or do anything extremely violent, stupid or embarrassing. He had to remind himself that he did like being the center of attention. If he'd been his prime, he would have straightened his tie. But Wilson had stopped wearing ties, and never had the habit of straightening them to begin with.

"Gallalam, we are agreed," Noah said, at long last. The extra roll to his r sounds always made Wilson think of his Jamaican holiday. Hadn't that been where he'd gotten those brass knuckles that he still carried around? Hadn't that been before he was the unnamed? "It has been too long since this being was among us, ha-chaa min kih'lih tash kallah. We had forgotten the strengths he would show. Vin'net ha-ksaa ha-dan'chackt. In our haste to show others our disapproval, we neglected our solemn duties to the one who stood before us."

Wilson's eyebrow went up a bit: so they really had purposefully let him simmer without a proper title? And more than that, they'd done it to piss the Mystery off. Nice.

A strong wave of Vortessence spread, it was almost physical; even Eli and numerous other normal Humans could sense something passing through the air. Wilson shivered, as though that air had suddenly turned cold. What he saw, what his prime, Pax and the rest of the Pantheon saw, was an echoing Vortal cry, solidifying a decision made by this group of Vorts. It flew to every living Vortigaunt, no matter their location. He suspected it also flew to every dead one; Wilson wondered whether Vortigaunt gossip would go stale if they didn't have new information to grumble about in the Interval.

"The unnamed is no longer," Noah spoke, "he is now to be known by all as Raa'nach-vahh, a worthy title." There was a bit of a pause, as Wilson digested this.

He looked around, saw approval in most expressions, a little confusion among others. Spotlighted by her child's wavering golden glow, Melissa's smile spread; she looked so proud – but of who, Wilson wasn't really sure. After all, he hadn't changed… Only his name. It did feel… warmer, Wilson's gut wasn't tight and wasn't filled with butterflies. Just warmth.

Wilson looked down at Noah, the bent old Vort's upper eyes catching the light. "Thank you," he said, simply. "I… appreciate that."

He did hear, from at least one of the other Vorts, a bit of grumbling to the effect of you'd better, but Wilson said nothing, and exited the circle with a calmness that he hadn't really planned, nor expected of himself. He didn't strut, he had no need. He walked directly to Melissa and didn't take his eyes off of hers the whole time. Paxton didn't stop him from starting a long, rather passionate kiss on her lips. Wilson cradled her face in his hands, stared at her for a moment, and kissed her again with the baby on her shoulder gleefully pounding on his head with her little soft fist.

Melissa chuckled and gave a bit of a gasp for breath, when he was finally done. "The way of the Mystery's deal," Melissa said, "I like it." Oddly enough, it occurred to Melissa only later on that his name now held bits of both his sons' titles, as well as taking the Mystery's into account. She wondered whether they'd thought on Paxton and Geoff, when deciding on this title – she'd been a bit distracted and hadn't listened too closely to their rumbling chatter while they selected it.

In typical fashion, it was Barney who began a rousing cheer, lifting his beer bottle to Wilson, followed by numerous others. Some of the Pantheon nearby – and their children – lit off the Vortal equivalent of fireworks, though Wilson certainly didn't think he warranted that much attention. Wilson didn't really need to speak, his eyes thanked Melissa again.

Not everyone there really understood why it had been such a big deal. Most of the Pantheon who had seen Vort titles being given out, or those who had spent time learning the subtleties of their language, had the inkling that he'd been the subject of some kind of mean prank or vendetta in the past. Only a few understood that Wilson had been the unnamed for longer than they'd been alive. The Outlanders took the opportunity to enjoy any reason to celebrate, that wasn't a terrible thing at all.

Melissa had planned this, obviously, for quite some time. Now that it had been done, and the Vorts actually agreed to do it, she felt a burden lift from her. She was just happy that she hadn't had to force the issue with them. She'd always known that being unnamed was something that stung Wilson more deeply than he'd let on. He joked about it, but still, the lurking sensation of being left out or even being snubbed had always been there, with that 'title'. That, however, wasn't the reason Melissa had actually gone through with this.

Perhaps Paxton might have been a bit put off for those reasons before now, but he'd done a lot of growing up in the last year spent around Wilson. They would never be quite as comfortable around one another as Melissa wanted them to be; they tolerated each other dutifully, and even sometimes quite happily. This act of hers though, at the very least, had shown Wilson what he meant to her.

She had been wrong, in saying that she didn't love him, last year. Of course she did. She figured, correctly, that this might make up for that statement. The fact that he'd saved her daughter and everything a few days before really hadn't factored in at all.

For the moment, however, it was now time for that very infant to be named. The evening had grown darker, the once-bright clouds now blocked out the stars in faint lines. The Vorts had opened their circle again, and had grown more somber than celebratory. For here was another of the Mystery's brood, Melissa had heard that spoken numerous times and with less than pleasant overtones. But then he had told her that she'd be named for him, if it hadn't already been obvious. Even the Mystery, though, was curious as to the exact title that she'd bear.

He himself watched with those starlit-green eyes, just out of reach of the light by the wall, quietly coming to terms with all of this and much more. It would be an interesting night. Two names, likely connected, and definitely connected to him. It had been some years since he'd actually been witness to a Vortal naming. And as he thought on it, it hadn't truly been a naming either. When Wilson was left disappointed and shamed. It was at Wilson's expense that they'd had their fun, at least now the Mystery didn't have that hanging over him. It would probably come back to haunt him anyway, Wilson wasn't going to let this knowledge just sit, now would he. He had every right to be annoyed. At this time, though, Wilson was basking in the well-deserved spotlight.

Oh wait, that was the child.

The Mystery watched as Wilson stood aside and the glowing girl cast her gentle golden light on Human and Vort alike.

Though Noah would be the obvious choice to hand her child off to, it was another Vort, the one who had been there earlier, that took the baby into his steady fingers. Hazael was his Human name, though he more often answered to Hazy of late. This time as Melissa approached, she was more than happy to move the bundle from her shoulder and into his care. She adjusted the shawl and held its edges, stepped backwards to rejoin her men. Wilson and Paxton, Raa'nach-vahh and Xkah-shuu'vahh, flanked her, still, neither challenging the other for that right.

Among the Human groups, several Outlander mothers stood; and of those, a few got a nervous twinge in their stomach. They'd seen the horrors of war; many of them had been rescued by the Pantheon or had managed to locate Black Mesa somehow on their own. They'd almost universally known how hard it was to keep a family intact in the ruins of modern cities. Some had watched their own mothers die, some had seen their children dragged away.

It wasn't to Vortikind, of course, that anyone lost their children. It had been barnacles, hounds, antlions and headcrabs. Portal storms, collapsing buildings, electrified or stagnant water. Armacham soldiers, Combine, creatures clad in black leather and metal, gun-ships raining down death in a brilliant display of might. Anything from other worlds, to the Outlanders eyes, was to be mistrusted.

Melissa looked so completely happy: happy to stand there, to give those aliens her baby. Outlanders rarely understood the ways of these bizarre Pantheon people. They'd had to adjust to life in the post-apocalyptic world as it was, but then to have the added weirdness of men that read your minds, women who glowed… Most weren't sure what Melissa 'did'. Whatever it was, it probably included that whole being too gorgeous for her own good thing. If she ever acknowledged the seething jealousy from some of them, they hadn't noticed. So she was ridiculously humble too, or was it just arrogant, they thought.

And what was up with her boyfriend? Or any of those others around? Some of the 'normies' there had grown a bit jumpy in the last week or so, as Melissa had brought with her not only her new baby but those others. It wasn't enough that the aliens had their big noisy naming ceremonies, and that these Pantheon people acted like something out of a science fiction movie with their powers, but now the selection of tall-scary-guys had grown considerably. The Outlanders' gossip and chatter was largely ignored, but their cautious over-the-shoulder glances were quite noticeable, particularly by those tall-scary-guys.

It appeared that few of those gossiping Outlanders had realized that Geoff was one of 'them', they seemed to accept him almost as easily as they did Adrian or Barney. Perhaps they didn't care for the way Paxton or Wilson looked around: Geoff was more apt to look away once he'd caught someone's eye. He watched without being noticed, by the time someone actually spotted him looking toward them it was long after he'd made any judgments about them; whereas his brother or sire would lock eyes and hold on, probably for the effect it gave. Then there was the Mystery – if he was seen around at all, he always looked like he owned the place, those glowing-green eyes looking for any weak links to dispose of.

Now, though, those men all had their spooky eyes on the circle of Vortigaunts.

The aliens' two-fingered hands glowed, faintly enough to normal eyes, but brightly and pervasively to anyone with the right Vortal senses. The babe gave off occasional sounds – none of them angry, or frightened. Some recalled when Jill's boy had been named, he had let off such a tremendous wail that he was almost titled words to the effect of please shut him up.

No, this girl who had her own faintly golden light seemed to relish being passed from one to another of these exotic creatures. At each turn, she appeared to adjust her glow to a different shade. Only once did she shed that red-violet tint, and Eli over there guessed (correctly) that it was to the hands of the one rather bitter member of the Vortigaunt circle. Finally she was handed to Noah, whereupon she gave off a giggle and a bright white shine. Whether he tilted and shook his head in surprise or because she amused him, or even because he wanted to amuse her, not even other Vorts knew. But their chanting had filled the air once more, and that same wave of Vortessence blew through those assembled.

To some it had a strangely bittersweet feel, perhaps the color was slightly different, reminiscent of an afternoon under an alien sky. Others sensed a slight hesitation, the Vortigaunts put some effort into this name. Noah trundled back to Melissa, habitually ignoring everything around him in favor of allowing the baby in his arms to illuminate the way, under his odd face.

"There may be many ways to show gratitude, and many more meanings to our words, bahh'naa shaa-net, bahh'gaharra chaa'chackt," Noah said. Melissa did hear contentious rumblings from at least one Vort back there, was it the same one who disliked Wilson so much? "But this is one we agree upon. Her name," he pronounced as he handed the girl back to her mother, "is Darr'lih keh-vahh, as the sunset illuminates the sky, she is the light behind the shadows. She will wear it well."

To Melissa, the world had suddenly grown a bit closer and brighter. Perhaps it was just the way her child's Vortal glow penetrated her eyelids, or warmed her chest when she pressed up against it. She could see Paxton's broad smile, also illuminated from their daughter herself. He was proud as ever of her, even if he didn't quite see all the varied meanings of the name she'd been given.

Though Darr'lih meant light of the soul in almost any inflection, there were more definitions of keh-vahh than merely 'behind the shadows'; Noah was quite right on that account. While the word vahh could mean anything from hidden to lies to its more often-spoken mystery, there was much more to the combination of words in this name. Keh meant fixed, forgiven. Melissa paused in thought, and then gently nodded to accept the name for her child.

Melissa had always been aware of the ties between people and their Vortal titles. Their webs connecting each and every person to the Vortal 'all-in-one'. Though not everyone's families bore the same names in a row, and certainly the Vortigaunts had gotten a workout in naming folk from the Center or Black Mesa, it was obvious that some inherited certain words for far deeper meanings than merely a description of their duties or attitude, or even their parentage.

Though his name had been pronounced (Melissa gave a slight, still-astonished chuckle at the thought) over twelve thousand years before, the lineage of vahh, of the Mystery, was something reasonably new to the Vorts. Melissa was the bearer of his surprising descendants. Paxton was his heir. Wilson, now, represented his presence among Humanity. She wouldn't go out on that limb to think that they'd forgiven kallah-vahh, but this child of hers was of his line, and he was there watching. Not one Vortigaunt was so blind as to miss him, though most Human eyes – Pantheon and otherwise – had hardly noticed his sudden change in posture. He had looked away, down, into the skies, and then back to the child and her mother with a growing but suddenly hidden distress.

As the name of this little girl was moved around on Human tongues, she would be known as Darly to most of them. Melissa had purposefully put off deciding on a 'normal' name for this reason. It wasn't like they hadn't known her gender or abilities well beforehand, in order to make a choice. They could have selected from dozens of appropriate monikers. It was more her destiny that Mel and Pax wanted to look at; though Paxton had admitted frequently enough, to his brother at least, that he'd have settled for any name.

Every few days, shortly before their trek to Black Mesa for the delivery, he would start reciting something he'd discovered while digging through the Sanctuary's library. Paxton would chant off a goddess' name or a sonnet about a woman, but Melissa would only laugh and he'd pretend to be sullen. He liked the name Athena. Darly would do, and he knew Mel would always pronounce it as it was spoken by the Vorts, that little hesitation between darr and lih.

Paxton was fairly certain that she'd grow into the name, beyond that whole glowing thing. But he also had seriously discussed the matter of having to live up to names with Mel on more than one occasion. It was something he'd had some experience with, and he knew she remembered her own distressed admission of her title, way back when they were children. Those late-night philosophical talks made him realize just how much he had lived up to his. Geoff's was never even in question: as a pathfinder, a scout, he couldn't have been named anything different. Pax was somewhat pleased, then, that Melissa had finally accepted hers.

Wilson's wasn't much of a surprise to him. As the taller, scarier of the bunch of them approached once more, he whispered thank you again to Melissa. If he wasn't careful, he might lose that scary thing entirely. As for the name… Pax would always know him as just Wilson, sarcastically and definitely in jest as dad, or for those occasional outbursts, that asshole. However, he did see why the Vorts had chosen that particular slant: given what he knew, of why Wilson had been made, what he did, he was 'the way of the shady deal'. Or more accurately, he was how the Mystery dealt.

Paxton wasn't surprised when the Mystery appeared nearby, coming rather closer than he had gotten in public before; in fact coming to a halt just behind Mel and placing his hand very gently on her shoulder, close enough to brush his fingers over Darly's still-puffy hair. The baby was asleep, but she still gave off that gentle antique-gold aura when he did smooth her hair down.

His eyes were on the girl, but his expression was unreadable to anyone who could see it – anyone except Eli, who did see, and did seem to regard that expression with his own thoughtful pause. The Mystery had a faintly wistful smile on his lips, though his eyes looked sad. Paxton, like Wilson, detected the ragged edges of their elder's thoughts; though those troubled sensations folded back into their more normal smooth-as-silk waves once both of them gave curious Vortal glances at him.

He dared to whisper what Melissa did not: "light of redemption," he pronounced; it was obvious what he understood from this name. Melissa's unspoken question, her definition, forgiveness, was something he addressed privately to her: there is a difference between forgiveness and redemption, Melissa. They have not forgiven me, but they will allow me to redeem myself. And I must thank you for that chance. If there was ever any debt owed between us, my dear, this most certainly evens the deal.

She gave a sweet but sad-eyed smile of her own, knowing that he at least acknowledged that debt.

As others broke up into their chatty groups, or went back down inside Black Mesa to fix dinner or put their children to bed, the Mystery and his kin remained together. Noah stood close by as well, offering the little girl his glowing, spindly finger with its erratically palsied twitches as a toy. Kallah-vahh looked over to Geoff and Alyx, proudly glancing at Eli and giving a faint toss of his head.

"We will discuss your findings tomorrow, Wilson," the Mystery said in a more conversational tone as Eli and the pair drew nearer. "I trust you have something important to say." With one of his familiar snarky grins, he added mentally to anyone who could hear, other than thanking her again. I'm sure you'll do that often enough. Try not to slobber too much.

Melissa actually had to resist the urge to elbow the Mystery in his gut, just then.