I felt the beating of his wings before I saw him fully materialize, black and white pinioned, the chaos angel. Denenthorn gazed down at me and I could do nothing but look up to meet his gaze. I knew my eyes were rimmed with red, and my lip was still swollen and bleeding.
He looked at me for a long moment and then spoke, without turning, to Constantine. "I assume this is your handiwork,” he said calmly.
“We had... some negotiations…. ” Constantine replied with the slightest of shrugs.
Denenthorn crossed his arms and continued to stare at my wounds. "Aggressive negotiations, I see.... " He looked over at Constantine. "Ever a fool who must use his fists to negotiate.... "
Constantine’s tone was silky. “War is father of all, king of all,” he began. “Some it makes gods, some it makes men, some it makes slaves, some free.... ”
I didn’t take my eyes off Denenthorn. I was torn, wanting to flee to his side, but afraid of further retribution.
"I've walked this world for Six Thousand years,” Denenthorn said grimly. “Do me a favor, Constantine." His eyes shot venom at the angel before him. “Leave the riddles at the door and speak what you really mean to say.”
“War is a contest of wills, Denenthorn. One will must be subdued… in this case: hers.”
"Do you see this as a war?” Denenthorn gave Constantine a dark look. “How narrow minded you truly are.... This is no war... you are clearly angry because she does not see things your way and therefore you took out your aggression on her.... This is no means of war..." He gave him a deathly stare. “It's a means of cowardice."
Constantine was nonplussed. "Ah… that is because you believe the notion that there is a fair war. How can anything be fair, when there is a victor and a loser?"
Denenthorn rolled his eyes. "Life is not fair, I never said war was fair.... I said your act was an act of cowardice."
Constantine looked at Denenthorn blankly, "Why?"
"Because,” Denenthorn replied, “My moral and ethical sense tells me that it is wrong to hit a lady… especially one with such a deep beauty to her.... "
"Well,” Constantine nodded, “As they say... spare the rod…. "
“Unless I am mistaken,” Denenthorn growled, “She is not a child, nor is she your child.... "
I could feel the tension in the room as Denenthorn’s wings began to spread in the posture of battle. I watched him carefully, not daring to speak.
Constantine shrugged, “All a matter of perspective... anyhow... is there more to the lecture?”
"No,” Denenthorn shook his head, and turned toward me. “I came for another reason..." He sighed heavily. "I wanted to see if my Night Angel, my Lady Grace, is ready to come home.... "
I looked from Denenthorn to Constantine, and the Dark Librarian did not miss the questioning look in my eyes… the need to ask permission. As he saw the fear causing my hesitation, his hands moved to rest on the hilts of his blades, watching Constantine’s every movement.
Constantine laughed. “Ah, and now who is thinking of war? So narrow minded?”
"I’m not thinking of war,” Denenthorn snapped, “Just thinkin' how nice yer head would look on my desk for the insult you place on this life...."
I began to shake.
Denenthorn held out his hand to me. "Home... where you are loved, " he murmured. He faced Constantine. "Home because she may come back to see you… I will not make her choose… but I will keep her safe." I lifted my hand to Denenthorn’s and he pulled me gently to my feet.
Constantine arched a brow. “Do you love her here, beaten, before us?”
"I love her here,” Denenthorn said quietly, pulling me into his cloak. “I love her at home, I love her when she infuriates me, I love her unconditionally." He looked at the angel, "Of course you would know all about love now, wouldn't you.... "
"More than you can imagine,” Constantine agreed. “I just need to know your intentions are pure."
I lowered my eyes and stared at the floor, not a word escaping my lips.
"Purer than you could ever imagine... Sir, " the old Librarian grumbled, drawing me closer under his arm.
I leaned into Denenthorn. "Please... home..."
“Home,” he soothed, and then we were gone.
Showing posts with label Denenthorn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Denenthorn. Show all posts
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Decisions
The low murmur of conversation continued below me as the members of my House gathered around the Lady Omega. Denenthorn had gone to stand on the balcony above us, keeping watch over the street, as was his habit, while the angel, Constantine, appeared to be examining a text pulled from the stacks only a few feet from where I stood. The Lady’s words echoed in my mind, and my heart was torn. I couldn’t leave… I couldn’t stay. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice when Choi climbed the stairs to stand quietly beside me. Her ears twitched as she leaned forward and whispered, “Are you all right?”
“No,” I replied quietly. “Nothing is right....”
The feline swallowed slowly, then reached into her pocket and pulled something out, hiding it from everyone's view but mine.
The blood tear pendant.
A soft sigh escaped my lips and I lifted my hand to touch it. It was a message. She was safe then. Nareth… safe among the Righteous. I found it nearly impossible to believe that she had sought sanctuary within the confines of the Church, but she had. Choi held the proof in her hands.
Abruptly, Constantine, moved closer to us, speaking in a tight voice. “Choi, your help in the matter has been noted. You need to speak with the Master Librarian, and Joah and I have matters to discuss.” He didn’t quite push us apart, but his nearness ended any hope I had of more news of Nareth from Choi. And I was wary of Choi speaking with Denenthorn. He was displeased and angry at Nareth’s insubordination. Displeased and coming for her. I glanced up the stairwell, hoping he hadn’t heard the conversation below. As far as I was concerned, Denenthorn was the last person that I wanted Choi to see.
Choi simply ignored Mr. Constantine for a moment, smiling at me gently, reassuringly, and closing her hand around the pendant, then putting it back in her pocket. She turned toward the angel. “My apologies, Constantine,” she said without a trace of sincerity in her voice, “But I believe that chore is for my 'betters'.”
I dropped my hand to my side and faced the angel. “I have nothing to discuss with you, Mr. Constantine.” The memory of the his attempts to bend me to his will was raw and bitter. He spoke in riddles and his help always came with a high price.
Constantine seemed to grow larger before us. “Nice way to back out, Choi,” he said sarcastically. “And you, Joah,” he said in a voice brimming with anger, “You don't care about your friend.”
I shook my head. “I care... I care deeply.”
“There are things that neither you nor the Church knows that are critical to your friend's survival,” Constantine said evenly.
Choi hissed at him, her tail flicking wildly. “What could you possibly do to help? All you've done so far is accuse her of lying.”
I nodded, watching the angel carefully.
We were interrupted by the Lamia, Kryss, who had slithered up the stairs, watching the scene before her quietly. She looked from Choi to Constantine. “Both of you should know this is not the time for this. She is hurting enough already....”
Constantine turned to regard Kryss. “Pain means the muscles are actually working… she's been resting too long.”
The Lamia frowned, and she moved toward Constantine with a hint of threat in her posture. “As much as I appreciate your lessons, here is one for you: compassion.”
A flash of light pulsed from the angel as he gave me an angry look, turned, and strode out of the Library without a word.
“No,” I replied quietly. “Nothing is right....”
The feline swallowed slowly, then reached into her pocket and pulled something out, hiding it from everyone's view but mine.
The blood tear pendant.
A soft sigh escaped my lips and I lifted my hand to touch it. It was a message. She was safe then. Nareth… safe among the Righteous. I found it nearly impossible to believe that she had sought sanctuary within the confines of the Church, but she had. Choi held the proof in her hands.
Abruptly, Constantine, moved closer to us, speaking in a tight voice. “Choi, your help in the matter has been noted. You need to speak with the Master Librarian, and Joah and I have matters to discuss.” He didn’t quite push us apart, but his nearness ended any hope I had of more news of Nareth from Choi. And I was wary of Choi speaking with Denenthorn. He was displeased and angry at Nareth’s insubordination. Displeased and coming for her. I glanced up the stairwell, hoping he hadn’t heard the conversation below. As far as I was concerned, Denenthorn was the last person that I wanted Choi to see.
Choi simply ignored Mr. Constantine for a moment, smiling at me gently, reassuringly, and closing her hand around the pendant, then putting it back in her pocket. She turned toward the angel. “My apologies, Constantine,” she said without a trace of sincerity in her voice, “But I believe that chore is for my 'betters'.”
I dropped my hand to my side and faced the angel. “I have nothing to discuss with you, Mr. Constantine.” The memory of the his attempts to bend me to his will was raw and bitter. He spoke in riddles and his help always came with a high price.
Constantine seemed to grow larger before us. “Nice way to back out, Choi,” he said sarcastically. “And you, Joah,” he said in a voice brimming with anger, “You don't care about your friend.”
I shook my head. “I care... I care deeply.”
“There are things that neither you nor the Church knows that are critical to your friend's survival,” Constantine said evenly.
Choi hissed at him, her tail flicking wildly. “What could you possibly do to help? All you've done so far is accuse her of lying.”
I nodded, watching the angel carefully.
We were interrupted by the Lamia, Kryss, who had slithered up the stairs, watching the scene before her quietly. She looked from Choi to Constantine. “Both of you should know this is not the time for this. She is hurting enough already....”
Constantine turned to regard Kryss. “Pain means the muscles are actually working… she's been resting too long.”
The Lamia frowned, and she moved toward Constantine with a hint of threat in her posture. “As much as I appreciate your lessons, here is one for you: compassion.”
A flash of light pulsed from the angel as he gave me an angry look, turned, and strode out of the Library without a word.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Fealty
It was evening in the Library and I stood quietly on the landing, watching those gathered by the fire. The Lady sat in her accustomed place by the hearth while Denenthorn stood tall and dark by her side. Grrbrool knelt at her feet, firelight shimmering in through his long, red hair. The sight of him in his flesh form never failed to surprise and arrest me. Attie and Redd chatted playfully, whispering into each other’s ears and laughing, while others read or bent towards their work. Dryl seemed dazzled by the gathering, wisping from one small group to another after her fashion. Such companionable gatherings had been common once, but the recent troubles in the City had set everyone on edge.
Grr looked up at me, smiling a human yet distinctly canine grin, and then he called my name, “Spirit Gal”, his true name for me. I smiled back at him, whispering, “Beloved,” but my eyes were drawn from him to Omega, and when my eyes met hers, I lowered my head, afraid to look.
The tension in the Institute had been almost unbearable of late. At the coming of the entity proclaiming to be Cthulhu, many had fled. Nareth had disappeared into a chrysalis in the floor of the laboratory, cocooned beneath some pulsing wet membrane. We’d not known whether she was even alive, and when finally she emerged, she sprang not from the chrysalis but from the sea, proclaiming the true Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. And with that proclamation, a rift had torn fabric of the Institute: Mother Hydra, not Sire Omega.
Grr caught the exchange between the Lady and me, gave me a long glance, and then turned toward Omega. Omega simply stood and began walking in my direction. “Joah?”
“Yes, Lady?”
“I would speak with you.” Omega continued up the stairs to the landing, stopping just in front of me. She extended her hands towards me and began to stroke my arm. “I have been worried for you, M'dear...” I could see Grr rise and follow the Lady with some caution, remaining a few steps behind. “Very worried indeed. We fret for you.”
I nodded, listening, but otherwise stood very still. "Why Lady?"
The taffeta of Omega’s skirts rustled as she turned slightly to look out the window for a moment, considering her words “There are those… who crave freedom. That to whom the idea is restriction is abhorrent.”
“I don’t understand, Lady,” I replied.
“Oh, I think you do,” Omega said, arching one brow slightly, “Because you understand, that there are those… to whom freedom itself is abhorrent.” As Omega spoke, Denenthorn walked wordlessly to stand by her side. He looked down at me, his blue eye leading the purple, gazing impassively in silence.
I frowned and lowered my head again. “Lady... we all serve Your will."
Omega slid her hand down my harm until it gripped my wrist. She leaned in, her lips close to my ear. “There are those… who can only feel free within boundaries gifted to them by another....”
I struggled against the impulse to pull away, my heart beginning to pound as Omega’s hand tightened slightly until I winced in pain.
“If one of that kind, is left neglectfully to roam,” Omega continued, “She will seek bonds, needfully... seek them where she may.”
I began to tremble.
Omega leaned in and whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “I know who is at fault here. I know what has occurred, and why.”
I twisted my head away looking to Grr for help, but though I knew he felt my discomfort, he did nothing. He stood Watching. Dryl hovered, fidgeting nervously. Denenthorn’s face was unreadable. I tried to pull my wrist away from Omega. "I don't know what you mean, Lady," I replied.
Omega grip on my wrist remained firm, but not crushing, and was no longer painful. She lifted her other hand to trace the side of my face with her fingertips. “I ask your forgiveness,” she whispered.
At this, I began to cry. "Your forgiveness? How have You wronged me, Lady?"
“I have neglected you,” Omega replied, “And it has lead you into peril. I would not see you neglected, Joah. I would see you cherished. Not held as thrall, but beloved.”
My tears began to flow freely for Omega had reached the heart of the matter. In the end, what was I to Nareth but her thrall? I had never thought to place myself willingly in such a situation, but Nareth’s lost vulnerability, her attempts to do what was right…I had fallen into compassion for her, all traces of my angry suspicion evaporating the night Pontifex had nearly severed her head from her body. And she had called me lover….
I brushed back tears as Omega took her hand from my wrist, and put her palms together, flat, lifting them up as though holding something. As she lifted, she opened her hands slightly. The shimmering image of an adornment floated between her palms. An adornment worn only by Denenthorn and Grrbrool.
“There is much I could offer you, Joah,” Omega said gently, “Out of our love. Our care for you. GrrBrool, Denenthorn and I… we wish no harm to come to you.” Soft and kind laughter came from Denenthorn’s lips at her words. Grr closed his eyes and looked slightly away, rubbing his face, so none could see.
"I don't deserve this, Lady," I said thickly.
Omega’s hands became fists and dropped to her sides. “You do not deserve peril, Joah. You do not deserve thralldom.”
"But I love her," I said softly.
Omega continued to gaze intently at me, speaking in the merest of whispers... “None loved her more than I.”
“She... disowned You, Lady,” I said sadly, “For another Mother.”
Omega nodded. “Her decision has given me grief I will carry till I am ash… But I would not add to these losses. I would not lose that which it would break me to abandon. You, my sweet Joah, I love more.”
I wept in frustration. "I cannot... Lady... I am... bound," I finally stammered, words choked by the anguish welling within me.
“What is bound can become unbound, if you wish it, Joah.” Omega gave the hint of a smile. “My blood is the stronger.”
My fingers moved distractedly to my waist, fingering by habit the silver chain and flask that were no longer there.
Omega watched the trace of my hand. “And her blood,” she said pointedly, “Is a dilution, merely a dilution....” She looked into my eyes. “Please. Consider my words. I will be waiting for your answer.”
The Lady smiled, and then affectionately reached to brush away a strand of Denenthorn’s hair, before turning and walking away.
Grr looked up at me, smiling a human yet distinctly canine grin, and then he called my name, “Spirit Gal”, his true name for me. I smiled back at him, whispering, “Beloved,” but my eyes were drawn from him to Omega, and when my eyes met hers, I lowered my head, afraid to look.
The tension in the Institute had been almost unbearable of late. At the coming of the entity proclaiming to be Cthulhu, many had fled. Nareth had disappeared into a chrysalis in the floor of the laboratory, cocooned beneath some pulsing wet membrane. We’d not known whether she was even alive, and when finally she emerged, she sprang not from the chrysalis but from the sea, proclaiming the true Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. And with that proclamation, a rift had torn fabric of the Institute: Mother Hydra, not Sire Omega.
Grr caught the exchange between the Lady and me, gave me a long glance, and then turned toward Omega. Omega simply stood and began walking in my direction. “Joah?”
“Yes, Lady?”
“I would speak with you.” Omega continued up the stairs to the landing, stopping just in front of me. She extended her hands towards me and began to stroke my arm. “I have been worried for you, M'dear...” I could see Grr rise and follow the Lady with some caution, remaining a few steps behind. “Very worried indeed. We fret for you.”
I nodded, listening, but otherwise stood very still. "Why Lady?"
The taffeta of Omega’s skirts rustled as she turned slightly to look out the window for a moment, considering her words “There are those… who crave freedom. That to whom the idea is restriction is abhorrent.”
“I don’t understand, Lady,” I replied.
“Oh, I think you do,” Omega said, arching one brow slightly, “Because you understand, that there are those… to whom freedom itself is abhorrent.” As Omega spoke, Denenthorn walked wordlessly to stand by her side. He looked down at me, his blue eye leading the purple, gazing impassively in silence.
I frowned and lowered my head again. “Lady... we all serve Your will."
Omega slid her hand down my harm until it gripped my wrist. She leaned in, her lips close to my ear. “There are those… who can only feel free within boundaries gifted to them by another....”
I struggled against the impulse to pull away, my heart beginning to pound as Omega’s hand tightened slightly until I winced in pain.
“If one of that kind, is left neglectfully to roam,” Omega continued, “She will seek bonds, needfully... seek them where she may.”
I began to tremble.
Omega leaned in and whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “I know who is at fault here. I know what has occurred, and why.”
I twisted my head away looking to Grr for help, but though I knew he felt my discomfort, he did nothing. He stood Watching. Dryl hovered, fidgeting nervously. Denenthorn’s face was unreadable. I tried to pull my wrist away from Omega. "I don't know what you mean, Lady," I replied.
Omega grip on my wrist remained firm, but not crushing, and was no longer painful. She lifted her other hand to trace the side of my face with her fingertips. “I ask your forgiveness,” she whispered.
At this, I began to cry. "Your forgiveness? How have You wronged me, Lady?"
“I have neglected you,” Omega replied, “And it has lead you into peril. I would not see you neglected, Joah. I would see you cherished. Not held as thrall, but beloved.”
My tears began to flow freely for Omega had reached the heart of the matter. In the end, what was I to Nareth but her thrall? I had never thought to place myself willingly in such a situation, but Nareth’s lost vulnerability, her attempts to do what was right…I had fallen into compassion for her, all traces of my angry suspicion evaporating the night Pontifex had nearly severed her head from her body. And she had called me lover….
I brushed back tears as Omega took her hand from my wrist, and put her palms together, flat, lifting them up as though holding something. As she lifted, she opened her hands slightly. The shimmering image of an adornment floated between her palms. An adornment worn only by Denenthorn and Grrbrool.
“There is much I could offer you, Joah,” Omega said gently, “Out of our love. Our care for you. GrrBrool, Denenthorn and I… we wish no harm to come to you.” Soft and kind laughter came from Denenthorn’s lips at her words. Grr closed his eyes and looked slightly away, rubbing his face, so none could see.
"I don't deserve this, Lady," I said thickly.
Omega’s hands became fists and dropped to her sides. “You do not deserve peril, Joah. You do not deserve thralldom.”
"But I love her," I said softly.
Omega continued to gaze intently at me, speaking in the merest of whispers... “None loved her more than I.”
“She... disowned You, Lady,” I said sadly, “For another Mother.”
Omega nodded. “Her decision has given me grief I will carry till I am ash… But I would not add to these losses. I would not lose that which it would break me to abandon. You, my sweet Joah, I love more.”
I wept in frustration. "I cannot... Lady... I am... bound," I finally stammered, words choked by the anguish welling within me.
“What is bound can become unbound, if you wish it, Joah.” Omega gave the hint of a smile. “My blood is the stronger.”
My fingers moved distractedly to my waist, fingering by habit the silver chain and flask that were no longer there.
Omega watched the trace of my hand. “And her blood,” she said pointedly, “Is a dilution, merely a dilution....” She looked into my eyes. “Please. Consider my words. I will be waiting for your answer.”
The Lady smiled, and then affectionately reached to brush away a strand of Denenthorn’s hair, before turning and walking away.
Monday, December 29, 2008
The Dark Librarian
I strode briskly along the snow covered Toxian streets, pondering all Pontifex had said about the old clans coming back to the City. The night air was crisper and colder than usual although it had little effect on me, wrapped up as I was in a woolen walking cape that I probably didn’t actually need. I had circled the perimeter of the City in a dark mood, thinking of my early days on the streets where had I walked alone to feed. Strands of incongruous multicolored lights twinkled from a window here, a doorway there, or circled a Christmas tree oddly placed upon the sea wall at the City’s southernmost edge. The sparkling provided mute relief to the grimness of the City. My heart was heavy with worry for Grr, who was not yet in his right mind. Ardere continued to taunt and threaten him. And Denenthorn hadn’t been the same since his descent into hell. Now, if Pontifex was to be believed, the Nightfire clan, the Strykes, and Vulcan, a son of Belial, were returning for some purpose unknown to me.
“Expect more of your family to suddenly arrive,” he had suggested to Devi Nightfire, ”And then expect changes amongst several of the houses…” Pontifex had demurred when accused of scheming, implying that long-ago patterns were, once again, repeating themselves. “Chance favors the prepared mind,” he’d said in a mild tone, the same tone in which he’d earlier suggested that Denenthorn’s past was darker than I’d supposed. My brow furrowed as I considered the possibility that the Dark Librarian could be, as Pontifex had implied, one of the enigmatic Strykes, angelic beings who had ruled the City with duplicity until Lorne’s arrival.
I had just turned the corner of Luxuria Lane and begun heading toward the warmth of the Library when I felt a slight tug… not a summoning… but something. I glanced upward toward the roofline and could just make out a silhouette against the moonlit dark. I began to climb and was unsurprised to see the Dark Librarian standing there alone, staring into the winter sky as the snow drifted and fell on his bare shoulders and chest.
“I felt you calling me,” I said as I walked toward him, my boots crunching against the layer of ice-covered snow beneath my feet. He neither turned nor responded so I laid one hand on his arm, “Sir?” I asked.
“I am feeling Drow tonight,” he responded. Denenthorn barely seemed to acknowledge my presence as he continued to gaze over the City.
I shifted around to get a clearer look at him. “Why the dark mood, sir?”
“I’ve been contemplating my life these past few months,” Denenthorn shrugged, “And I feel that I've lost much, though I have gained much much more....”
I nodded slowly, thinking of his attempt to rescue Picket from hell. “When you were gone, sir, we didn't know... I didn't know if you would be coming back. And when you returned, you didn’t seem yourself.” You are not yourself even now, I thought, though my opinion remained unexpressed.
Denenthorn sighed. “My soul his whole, but the sacrifice cost me Lady Picket.” I watched a look of weary resignation wash over his features as he continued. “I went to the very depths to save her soul, was willing to sacrifice my own…. But she shunned me away, she no longer needs me. Perhaps I remind her of the dark she suffered through,” he shrugged, “Now she wants only that I stay far from her.” His tone was bitter. I stepped back slightly, thinking that he perhaps preferred the solace of his own company to mine at that moment.
Instead Denenthorn sighed and held out his hand to me. “No come closer,” he said quietly. I walked to his side and took his hand in my own. “I have all this power,” he mused, “But now without Reaper and Hatter, I feel empty... they are a part of me, but they cannot truly exist if my soul is not torn.”
I struggled to understand. “And now that your soul is whole yet you feel.... You want them back?” I asked in confusion.
“I miss the insanity,” he sighed, “But no, they take too much from me… my time, my patience… and the constant internal struggle harms me physically... they are why I was so scarred. It was the madness, though, that made me the Denny everyone knew....”
I lay my head against his arm. “And if you could choose now, sir? Which would you choose...whole or torn?” I was hesitant to ask, but I knew that I needed to know his true answer.
“Whole,” Denenthorn replied, turning me around slightly. “Because I have the ability to lead when I am whole.” He gave me a searching look.
“You led when you were torn, Sir...although it was a frightening and chaotic leadership.”
“Exactly,” Denenthorn agreed. I had met his gaze, seeing the sadness in his eyes, when I felt him suddenly begin to pull me toward him. He looked at me deeply for a long moment, then bent to kiss me passionately and without warning. My eyes widened, then closed, as I sank into his embrace. The taste of his lips, though unexpected, was warm and sweet.
As quickly as he had taken me in his arms, he released me. He stepped away and folded his arms across his chest, turning once again to gaze at the wintry night and leaving me in complete surprise.
“That is all for now, Praetor Menjou,” he said evenly. “You may return to your duties in the Library.”
I turned and left without a word.
“Expect more of your family to suddenly arrive,” he had suggested to Devi Nightfire, ”And then expect changes amongst several of the houses…” Pontifex had demurred when accused of scheming, implying that long-ago patterns were, once again, repeating themselves. “Chance favors the prepared mind,” he’d said in a mild tone, the same tone in which he’d earlier suggested that Denenthorn’s past was darker than I’d supposed. My brow furrowed as I considered the possibility that the Dark Librarian could be, as Pontifex had implied, one of the enigmatic Strykes, angelic beings who had ruled the City with duplicity until Lorne’s arrival.
I had just turned the corner of Luxuria Lane and begun heading toward the warmth of the Library when I felt a slight tug… not a summoning… but something. I glanced upward toward the roofline and could just make out a silhouette against the moonlit dark. I began to climb and was unsurprised to see the Dark Librarian standing there alone, staring into the winter sky as the snow drifted and fell on his bare shoulders and chest.
“I felt you calling me,” I said as I walked toward him, my boots crunching against the layer of ice-covered snow beneath my feet. He neither turned nor responded so I laid one hand on his arm, “Sir?” I asked.
“I am feeling Drow tonight,” he responded. Denenthorn barely seemed to acknowledge my presence as he continued to gaze over the City.
I shifted around to get a clearer look at him. “Why the dark mood, sir?”
“I’ve been contemplating my life these past few months,” Denenthorn shrugged, “And I feel that I've lost much, though I have gained much much more....”
I nodded slowly, thinking of his attempt to rescue Picket from hell. “When you were gone, sir, we didn't know... I didn't know if you would be coming back. And when you returned, you didn’t seem yourself.” You are not yourself even now, I thought, though my opinion remained unexpressed.
Denenthorn sighed. “My soul his whole, but the sacrifice cost me Lady Picket.” I watched a look of weary resignation wash over his features as he continued. “I went to the very depths to save her soul, was willing to sacrifice my own…. But she shunned me away, she no longer needs me. Perhaps I remind her of the dark she suffered through,” he shrugged, “Now she wants only that I stay far from her.” His tone was bitter. I stepped back slightly, thinking that he perhaps preferred the solace of his own company to mine at that moment.
Instead Denenthorn sighed and held out his hand to me. “No come closer,” he said quietly. I walked to his side and took his hand in my own. “I have all this power,” he mused, “But now without Reaper and Hatter, I feel empty... they are a part of me, but they cannot truly exist if my soul is not torn.”
I struggled to understand. “And now that your soul is whole yet you feel.... You want them back?” I asked in confusion.
“I miss the insanity,” he sighed, “But no, they take too much from me… my time, my patience… and the constant internal struggle harms me physically... they are why I was so scarred. It was the madness, though, that made me the Denny everyone knew....”
I lay my head against his arm. “And if you could choose now, sir? Which would you choose...whole or torn?” I was hesitant to ask, but I knew that I needed to know his true answer.
“Whole,” Denenthorn replied, turning me around slightly. “Because I have the ability to lead when I am whole.” He gave me a searching look.
“You led when you were torn, Sir...although it was a frightening and chaotic leadership.”
“Exactly,” Denenthorn agreed. I had met his gaze, seeing the sadness in his eyes, when I felt him suddenly begin to pull me toward him. He looked at me deeply for a long moment, then bent to kiss me passionately and without warning. My eyes widened, then closed, as I sank into his embrace. The taste of his lips, though unexpected, was warm and sweet.
As quickly as he had taken me in his arms, he released me. He stepped away and folded his arms across his chest, turning once again to gaze at the wintry night and leaving me in complete surprise.
“That is all for now, Praetor Menjou,” he said evenly. “You may return to your duties in the Library.”
I turned and left without a word.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
From Here On
Joah sits quietly in her small room at the top of the stairs, contemplating the moon, as she so often does. Tonight, the moon is full, two weeks ‘til the new moon, two weeks ‘til GrrBrool shifts to his near-human form. She wants badly to bring him back to her before then, to heal the broken creature that walks like a ghost through her days. Her sense of guilt overwhelms her, knowing that it was her own vulnerability and longing for the void that opened the door within her to Pestilence. Had it not been for Lorne…for the bit of the Garden…
So long ago, the Garden, she thinks.
But while she’d been a vessel of conflict and longing, Omega had been seduced by Her own desires for power and had opened Herself willingly. Joah’s earlier quiet accusation had hung in the air; Omega had failed to protect Her House, had, in fact, been the breaking stone that had shattered Grrbrool’s will and crushed his spirit.
“I thought…I could best it, Joah....” Omega had said quietly, the memory of War still tracing a shadow on her smooth face. “I thought...the power…I thought I could use it, to advantage. There were factors…I did not consider.”
Factors like the twist in Denenthorn, like Severus’s injuries, the problem of Del, the Harbinger…and a crew of loyal but inexperienced Omegans: Rhaven, Zoe, Wire, Blake. Still in all, Faye’Li had remained constant, seeking help of the Coven, leading the Institute to safety in a time of turmoil when its leaders had fallen.
Joah shifts as she gazes, wrapping her quilt around her and looking to the moon as if it could answer the questions in her heart. In the end, she remembers Lorne kneeling beside her as blood soaked through her stockings and her dress, pooling on the floor. Though a bitter frown clouded His face, He still gave His hand to Denenthorn, His strength to Rhaven, while Meng Po had joined in, whispering, “Pestilence has nearly stolen everything from her.” Joah had opened herself to their healing, the bright, warm touch of Denenthorn’s hand on her forehead, the feeling of rushing back into herself as energy from the four poured into her. So much life…so much loss.
“What is past... is past,” Omega had said. “We must not mire ourselves in regret. This experience has taught us…much about ourselves. Let it be worth the price we have paid for such knowledge.”
Joah looks at the moon.
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
September 1, 1939
W.H. Auden
So long ago, the Garden, she thinks.
But while she’d been a vessel of conflict and longing, Omega had been seduced by Her own desires for power and had opened Herself willingly. Joah’s earlier quiet accusation had hung in the air; Omega had failed to protect Her House, had, in fact, been the breaking stone that had shattered Grrbrool’s will and crushed his spirit.
“I thought…I could best it, Joah....” Omega had said quietly, the memory of War still tracing a shadow on her smooth face. “I thought...the power…I thought I could use it, to advantage. There were factors…I did not consider.”
Factors like the twist in Denenthorn, like Severus’s injuries, the problem of Del, the Harbinger…and a crew of loyal but inexperienced Omegans: Rhaven, Zoe, Wire, Blake. Still in all, Faye’Li had remained constant, seeking help of the Coven, leading the Institute to safety in a time of turmoil when its leaders had fallen.
Joah shifts as she gazes, wrapping her quilt around her and looking to the moon as if it could answer the questions in her heart. In the end, she remembers Lorne kneeling beside her as blood soaked through her stockings and her dress, pooling on the floor. Though a bitter frown clouded His face, He still gave His hand to Denenthorn, His strength to Rhaven, while Meng Po had joined in, whispering, “Pestilence has nearly stolen everything from her.” Joah had opened herself to their healing, the bright, warm touch of Denenthorn’s hand on her forehead, the feeling of rushing back into herself as energy from the four poured into her. So much life…so much loss.
“What is past... is past,” Omega had said. “We must not mire ourselves in regret. This experience has taught us…much about ourselves. Let it be worth the price we have paid for such knowledge.”
Joah looks at the moon.
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
September 1, 1939
W.H. Auden
Sunday, December 7, 2008
In the Time of Pestilence
She remembered it all.
Lorne, leaning over the balcony railing, armored and wings spread, full of cold and silence as He watched Joah floating above the mantelpiece, her fingertips dripping maggots to the floor. The rushing sound of Sariel’s Sword unsheathed, stained with War, Lorne’s voice demanding for the Thing to leave, to return home. The Thing felt Joah’s body, her spirit tug as It watched Him reaching down through her and laughed.
“It shall already have been,” He spoke. The Thing grinned in reply and fed upon the imprint of the Void within Joah. It taunted Him, shifting shape to His firstborn, Lilith, reminding him of his failures before, of what he had lost.
Lorne watched wordlessly, and then raised His hand, palm up, and lifting the Sword: a squeal of metal cutting through metal. It sheared through His gauntlet palm, flashing red, exuding pure self-destruction into the throne room the Thing had made in Joah’s psyche.
Rhaven stood quietly, gathering her energies, preparing for anything.
“Joah needs fixed,” Brianna said in a hushed tone.
Grrbrool sang and raved and quivered, but was of no use.
The stench of rotting garbage began to fill the Library. The Thing fought against itself, touched by War and without the strength from its lost Sister-Brothers. It too, reached along the cord between Lorne and Joah. It, too, knew His weaknesses. The Thing's face began to shift; it’s eyes opening wider as the smell of rotting flesh assaulted the room. Long red hair streamed from Its head, creamy skin upon a beautiful face, wide eyes approximating innocence. “You’d do this to me?” It lisped.
"Joah isn't Joah. She's Pestilence and had me infested with Death," Blue hissed.
Denenthorn growled, “I want that sorry excuse of a Horseman gone and I want Grr and Joah back, Lorne. BREAK HIS SPIRIT LIKE HE AND THE OTHER THREE BROKE GRRBROOL'S."
Severus watched in silence, absently picking at the fresh and still dripping scourge marks left by Lucifer, pale eyes staring blankly.
Lorne sheathed his Sword and moved closer. Not Brit, not Eve he thought looking at the face before him. A set of scales dropped from his torn, empty hand, a haze of black drifting after the red along the link way, "You are called too early, tool. That you are here before the intended hour means you are called not by the One you serve, but the Adversary."
A cruel smile formed upon the lovely mask as the Thing changed its appearance back again to Sariel’s firstborn. “You are the Adversary, Old One,” it hissed, grabbing its belly in pain as it felt the gnawing of Famine’s black mist. The roar of birds’ wings arose from the hearth, screams and caws and claws scratching. “The stars are right. My time is now.”
“Your time is up,” Denenthorn snarled.
Suyuan stepped up behind Rhaven, her small warm hand coming to rest upon Rhaven’s shoulder, exuding energy, as Rhaven extended her wards, drawing Zoe and those about her into a protective cocoon.
“Turmoil,” Brit murmured, peering inside and coughing at the stench even outside the Library’s door.
Lorne lowers His hand, the scales sinking back into His palm, stepping down the stairs closer to the Thing. As he nears, He raises both arms high to the side. From each palm there grows crawling tendrils of wood, cricking, and snapping until they form a handled staff. With a sound of metal on metal, the blade of Death’s scythe extends, and He swings it, sending it through the body inhabited by Pestilence, passing it through without any visible mark left behind.
The Thing jerks violently, shrieks from the walls as a flock of ravens bursts from the hearth and pelts to the floor, beginning to decay instantly. The visage of Lilith drops from the Thing’s face and her eyes blaze white. "You think this will stop me? How many vessels do you think you can protect at once? I'll just take another...and another...choose Old One...which of these should I take?"
“But she should be dead,” Brianna blinked, “not...not go into another...it worked with the rest...."
Denenthorn growled, “I hate something that doesn't know when to quit..."
“Just give Joah back,” Blue hissed at the Thing.
Lorne drops the scythe, which disintegrates before it hits the ground. He then reaches up, wrapping His fingers around Joah's ankle, pulling her bit by bit closer, while rearing His injured hand back. The Thing looks at the Old One and grins as she is pulled down. "I believe I'll grant Blue and Denenthorn’s wish," she laughs, looking at Brit. Joah's body slumps and a rush of locusts flies from her mouth toward Brit, shattering the Library windows. The stench of rotting ravens permeates everything as the locusts fly.
Brit screams as she is surrounded, turning one way and then another, seeming confused at the mass of insects that surround her. Lorne turns, opening His mouth in a deafening howl, trying to pull them into His mouth with gale force winds, as Blue sends streak after streak of fire after them. Denenthorn clutches Blue’s arm, transferring strength to her ‘til he understands the attack is aimed at Brit, and then rushes out the door.
“Fuck!” Grr howls.
“Oh, fuck no!” Denenthorn cries in alarm, unable to tear his eyes away from his daughter.
“Go, if you need to Denny,” Rhaven yells urgently through the swarm, “I’ll try to heal Joah…”
The whirlwind continues around the floating Thing, Its hair flying wildly, wind swirling through the broken glass, pummeling Brit, lifting and tossing her through the air to the outside wall of the Library. The glass grazes her skin in prickles and points, sticking like tailor’s pins as she attempts to stand, coughing and pulling locusts from her hair.
“Not my daughter, bitch!” Denenthorn snarls.
Suyuan gasps, covering her mouth as she recoils, gripping Rhaven as a cool breeze surrounds them both, and Meng Po materializes to gaze down at her.
Lorne rushes to Brit, his throat tight, fearing her dead, hands reaching for her shoulders, air still dragging harshly into His mouth. A red glow begins to emanate from him, and the Thing’s body contorts, Its eyes and ears leaking blood, though It continues to pound Brit, tumbling and turning her, glass flying in shards, as she covers her ears trying to block It from reaching into her mind. It roars back in anger, blocked by the thing about Brit’s neck, as it slams her into the wall once again and drops her to the concrete, bouncing once like a sack of flour. Severus whirls around, striding out of the Library, uttering in Enochian as he gestures towards Brit and draws a glowing Theban symbol with one clawed hand, expelling all of his stolen soul essence into her in the form of a protective healing ward. The cuts in Brit’s skin begin to visibly heal.
Denenthorn begins to glow with power as he feels Brit's every hurt and pain, the Library begins to sing in the minds of all as a shield of healing and comfort enters those that mean no harm.
Lorne closes His eyes, sighing, and reaching back along the link way within Joah, looking about for any trace of the Horseman left to grab onto. “Joah?” He says into her mind, “Joah? I need your help.”
“Come on Joah...Sister by fate,” Blue urges.
Joah’s mouth opens slowly, blood spilling from her lips as her body shakes. The Thing feels her resistance, feels Joah grabbing, grasping the link between her and Lorne. "Lorne...." she half stammers, half whispers in her own voice.
Kneeling in front of Brit, Lorne raises His hands, palms open, and speaks into Joah's mind, "Joah? Where is the sigil?" The wind whirls in a deafening roar as Joah pushes against the Thing, calling on Creation’s power, Legion’s words echoing in her mind. She lifts up her shaking hand as the thighbone of a rat appears upon it.
Lorne reaches forward to Brit, trying to hug her close. He holds His injured hand out, willing the thighbone to it as Brit uses his cape like a rope to get to her feet. She coughs again and stares wide-eyed at the thighbone as it melts into the bit of black shown through the gash in Lorne’s gauntlet. He holds her tighter as the gauntlet itself melts away in a wave leaving His original flesh and clothing behind, spreading until even His wings are gone.
Inside the Library, Joah falls to the floor with a thud, blood leaking between her legs, pooling on the floor.
Lorne, leaning over the balcony railing, armored and wings spread, full of cold and silence as He watched Joah floating above the mantelpiece, her fingertips dripping maggots to the floor. The rushing sound of Sariel’s Sword unsheathed, stained with War, Lorne’s voice demanding for the Thing to leave, to return home. The Thing felt Joah’s body, her spirit tug as It watched Him reaching down through her and laughed.
“It shall already have been,” He spoke. The Thing grinned in reply and fed upon the imprint of the Void within Joah. It taunted Him, shifting shape to His firstborn, Lilith, reminding him of his failures before, of what he had lost.
Lorne watched wordlessly, and then raised His hand, palm up, and lifting the Sword: a squeal of metal cutting through metal. It sheared through His gauntlet palm, flashing red, exuding pure self-destruction into the throne room the Thing had made in Joah’s psyche.
Rhaven stood quietly, gathering her energies, preparing for anything.
“Joah needs fixed,” Brianna said in a hushed tone.
Grrbrool sang and raved and quivered, but was of no use.
The stench of rotting garbage began to fill the Library. The Thing fought against itself, touched by War and without the strength from its lost Sister-Brothers. It too, reached along the cord between Lorne and Joah. It, too, knew His weaknesses. The Thing's face began to shift; it’s eyes opening wider as the smell of rotting flesh assaulted the room. Long red hair streamed from Its head, creamy skin upon a beautiful face, wide eyes approximating innocence. “You’d do this to me?” It lisped.
"Joah isn't Joah. She's Pestilence and had me infested with Death," Blue hissed.
Denenthorn growled, “I want that sorry excuse of a Horseman gone and I want Grr and Joah back, Lorne. BREAK HIS SPIRIT LIKE HE AND THE OTHER THREE BROKE GRRBROOL'S."
Severus watched in silence, absently picking at the fresh and still dripping scourge marks left by Lucifer, pale eyes staring blankly.
Lorne sheathed his Sword and moved closer. Not Brit, not Eve he thought looking at the face before him. A set of scales dropped from his torn, empty hand, a haze of black drifting after the red along the link way, "You are called too early, tool. That you are here before the intended hour means you are called not by the One you serve, but the Adversary."
A cruel smile formed upon the lovely mask as the Thing changed its appearance back again to Sariel’s firstborn. “You are the Adversary, Old One,” it hissed, grabbing its belly in pain as it felt the gnawing of Famine’s black mist. The roar of birds’ wings arose from the hearth, screams and caws and claws scratching. “The stars are right. My time is now.”
“Your time is up,” Denenthorn snarled.
Suyuan stepped up behind Rhaven, her small warm hand coming to rest upon Rhaven’s shoulder, exuding energy, as Rhaven extended her wards, drawing Zoe and those about her into a protective cocoon.
“Turmoil,” Brit murmured, peering inside and coughing at the stench even outside the Library’s door.
Lorne lowers His hand, the scales sinking back into His palm, stepping down the stairs closer to the Thing. As he nears, He raises both arms high to the side. From each palm there grows crawling tendrils of wood, cricking, and snapping until they form a handled staff. With a sound of metal on metal, the blade of Death’s scythe extends, and He swings it, sending it through the body inhabited by Pestilence, passing it through without any visible mark left behind.
The Thing jerks violently, shrieks from the walls as a flock of ravens bursts from the hearth and pelts to the floor, beginning to decay instantly. The visage of Lilith drops from the Thing’s face and her eyes blaze white. "You think this will stop me? How many vessels do you think you can protect at once? I'll just take another...and another...choose Old One...which of these should I take?"
“But she should be dead,” Brianna blinked, “not...not go into another...it worked with the rest...."
Denenthorn growled, “I hate something that doesn't know when to quit..."
“Just give Joah back,” Blue hissed at the Thing.
Lorne drops the scythe, which disintegrates before it hits the ground. He then reaches up, wrapping His fingers around Joah's ankle, pulling her bit by bit closer, while rearing His injured hand back. The Thing looks at the Old One and grins as she is pulled down. "I believe I'll grant Blue and Denenthorn’s wish," she laughs, looking at Brit. Joah's body slumps and a rush of locusts flies from her mouth toward Brit, shattering the Library windows. The stench of rotting ravens permeates everything as the locusts fly.
Brit screams as she is surrounded, turning one way and then another, seeming confused at the mass of insects that surround her. Lorne turns, opening His mouth in a deafening howl, trying to pull them into His mouth with gale force winds, as Blue sends streak after streak of fire after them. Denenthorn clutches Blue’s arm, transferring strength to her ‘til he understands the attack is aimed at Brit, and then rushes out the door.
“Fuck!” Grr howls.
“Oh, fuck no!” Denenthorn cries in alarm, unable to tear his eyes away from his daughter.
“Go, if you need to Denny,” Rhaven yells urgently through the swarm, “I’ll try to heal Joah…”
The whirlwind continues around the floating Thing, Its hair flying wildly, wind swirling through the broken glass, pummeling Brit, lifting and tossing her through the air to the outside wall of the Library. The glass grazes her skin in prickles and points, sticking like tailor’s pins as she attempts to stand, coughing and pulling locusts from her hair.
“Not my daughter, bitch!” Denenthorn snarls.
Suyuan gasps, covering her mouth as she recoils, gripping Rhaven as a cool breeze surrounds them both, and Meng Po materializes to gaze down at her.
Lorne rushes to Brit, his throat tight, fearing her dead, hands reaching for her shoulders, air still dragging harshly into His mouth. A red glow begins to emanate from him, and the Thing’s body contorts, Its eyes and ears leaking blood, though It continues to pound Brit, tumbling and turning her, glass flying in shards, as she covers her ears trying to block It from reaching into her mind. It roars back in anger, blocked by the thing about Brit’s neck, as it slams her into the wall once again and drops her to the concrete, bouncing once like a sack of flour. Severus whirls around, striding out of the Library, uttering in Enochian as he gestures towards Brit and draws a glowing Theban symbol with one clawed hand, expelling all of his stolen soul essence into her in the form of a protective healing ward. The cuts in Brit’s skin begin to visibly heal.
Denenthorn begins to glow with power as he feels Brit's every hurt and pain, the Library begins to sing in the minds of all as a shield of healing and comfort enters those that mean no harm.
Lorne closes His eyes, sighing, and reaching back along the link way within Joah, looking about for any trace of the Horseman left to grab onto. “Joah?” He says into her mind, “Joah? I need your help.”
“Come on Joah...Sister by fate,” Blue urges.
Joah’s mouth opens slowly, blood spilling from her lips as her body shakes. The Thing feels her resistance, feels Joah grabbing, grasping the link between her and Lorne. "Lorne...." she half stammers, half whispers in her own voice.
Kneeling in front of Brit, Lorne raises His hands, palms open, and speaks into Joah's mind, "Joah? Where is the sigil?" The wind whirls in a deafening roar as Joah pushes against the Thing, calling on Creation’s power, Legion’s words echoing in her mind. She lifts up her shaking hand as the thighbone of a rat appears upon it.
Lorne reaches forward to Brit, trying to hug her close. He holds His injured hand out, willing the thighbone to it as Brit uses his cape like a rope to get to her feet. She coughs again and stares wide-eyed at the thighbone as it melts into the bit of black shown through the gash in Lorne’s gauntlet. He holds her tighter as the gauntlet itself melts away in a wave leaving His original flesh and clothing behind, spreading until even His wings are gone.
Inside the Library, Joah falls to the floor with a thud, blood leaking between her legs, pooling on the floor.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Lord of Fevers and Plagues
It slipped into her almost unnoticed with a breath of frozen air, the skittering of mice on a stone floor, and the cries of those dying with bitten and yellowed skin. It slipped in because the door had been opened before—perhaps not fully, but all It needed was a crack, a thin sliver. It slid in where the pale girl’s spirit was slightly ajar. Nareth, Labyrinth, the dreams, and her very nature had made it so. Now the Thing waited, tamping down the fire within the girl, choking off her speech, bored with her existence but compelled to wait within for the Others.
It hadn’t particularly tried to hide what It had done, though at first, only the Watcher had noticed. The Coyote had looked within the girl. He couldn’t see what the Thing was, but he knew It was there. As the Thing toyed with the girl’s body and her innate abilities so underused, the Coyote threatened. It’s response was to feed, kissing the Grrbrool with a seed of Ebola, smiling Its death grin as the Coyote stumbled into the wall of the hidden Library laboratory, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. It was a pity that Lycans healed so quickly.
When It used the girl to ravish Rhaven’s mind, the Coyote had called on his earthbound gods. “If you hurt my Family, I’ll stop you,” he snarled. He called on the Spirit in the Walls, slamming the girl’s body to the ceiling of the Library. The girl’s shoulder had been dislocated. The Thing had been amused. While It took no pleasure in the earthly sense from Its torments, It did relish the results.
The Coyote warned the Thing that he would break It’s shell if It didn’t stop. “Break it too badly and she will never come back to you," the Thing answered in rush of whispers.
“I’ll kill her ta free her from you, if I have to,” the Coyote said. In reply, the Thing extended one of the girl’s hands to the rusted, iron railing on the scaffolding where the girl’s body sat. At Its touch, a flood of ice...then a snap. It lifted the broken bar and plunged it into the girl’s chest. But the Coyote and the angel, Darkstorm, had intervened. They took the girl to the Wide River while her body yet lived, a place they believed could bind what cannot be bound. “I have dwelt ever in realms apart from the visible world," the Thing’s voices mocked as it hovered above the body.
The Coyote handed the girl to Darkstorm, and then pulled two gold coins from his pocket. The Thing watched. “Life is a hideous thing," It’s voices laughed. "You didn't want the body. I will take it." The Coyote and the Angel disagreed, working in tandem, the Angel pouring energy into the beast and the beast standing in Death’s river, the fire of the sun in his mouth and hands, the gold searing his flesh. He breathed life back into the girl’s body. And the Thing let her see the two, but only for a moment…then on a dry wind of plague It slipped back in.
It waited. Waited for the other Vessels…until the Death-Dreamer was ready. With a flood of vermin spilling from Its mouth, the pale girl's body found Her and kissed Her. As Death rushed into it's Vessel, the girl's body felt Her icy touch at the small of her back, tasted the charnel house on her lips. The Death-Dreamer had been called Blue. Together, They extinguished the fire of the Spirit in the Walls, the feeble Library Spirit. Together, They sought out the other Vessels, leaving in Their wake a red-haired girl with a touch of dengue fever and a Shelter full of dying rats, gifted with Black Death. They were unstoppable.
Except…
There was the problem of Sariel.
(quotes from HP Lovecraft)
Tohu va Bohu Series
Grr's Perspective
It hadn’t particularly tried to hide what It had done, though at first, only the Watcher had noticed. The Coyote had looked within the girl. He couldn’t see what the Thing was, but he knew It was there. As the Thing toyed with the girl’s body and her innate abilities so underused, the Coyote threatened. It’s response was to feed, kissing the Grrbrool with a seed of Ebola, smiling Its death grin as the Coyote stumbled into the wall of the hidden Library laboratory, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. It was a pity that Lycans healed so quickly.
When It used the girl to ravish Rhaven’s mind, the Coyote had called on his earthbound gods. “If you hurt my Family, I’ll stop you,” he snarled. He called on the Spirit in the Walls, slamming the girl’s body to the ceiling of the Library. The girl’s shoulder had been dislocated. The Thing had been amused. While It took no pleasure in the earthly sense from Its torments, It did relish the results.
The Coyote warned the Thing that he would break It’s shell if It didn’t stop. “Break it too badly and she will never come back to you," the Thing answered in rush of whispers.
“I’ll kill her ta free her from you, if I have to,” the Coyote said. In reply, the Thing extended one of the girl’s hands to the rusted, iron railing on the scaffolding where the girl’s body sat. At Its touch, a flood of ice...then a snap. It lifted the broken bar and plunged it into the girl’s chest. But the Coyote and the angel, Darkstorm, had intervened. They took the girl to the Wide River while her body yet lived, a place they believed could bind what cannot be bound. “I have dwelt ever in realms apart from the visible world," the Thing’s voices mocked as it hovered above the body.
The Coyote handed the girl to Darkstorm, and then pulled two gold coins from his pocket. The Thing watched. “Life is a hideous thing," It’s voices laughed. "You didn't want the body. I will take it." The Coyote and the Angel disagreed, working in tandem, the Angel pouring energy into the beast and the beast standing in Death’s river, the fire of the sun in his mouth and hands, the gold searing his flesh. He breathed life back into the girl’s body. And the Thing let her see the two, but only for a moment…then on a dry wind of plague It slipped back in.
It waited. Waited for the other Vessels…until the Death-Dreamer was ready. With a flood of vermin spilling from Its mouth, the pale girl's body found Her and kissed Her. As Death rushed into it's Vessel, the girl's body felt Her icy touch at the small of her back, tasted the charnel house on her lips. The Death-Dreamer had been called Blue. Together, They extinguished the fire of the Spirit in the Walls, the feeble Library Spirit. Together, They sought out the other Vessels, leaving in Their wake a red-haired girl with a touch of dengue fever and a Shelter full of dying rats, gifted with Black Death. They were unstoppable.
Except…
There was the problem of Sariel.
(quotes from HP Lovecraft)
Tohu va Bohu Series
Grr's Perspective
Friday, October 31, 2008
What Lorne Took
I sat on the sofa of KTOX, listening to Starwalker spin tales as I took in the music. I’d brought along someone new to the city, Bella Demina. She’d come following a voice, a voice that had drawn her to many places and many cities, ‘til finally this one. She lay exhausted on the sofa beside me, drifting toward sleep. GrrBrool stood at the decks, thumbing the scratched iPod he’d taken off a dead man.
“It’s been quieter than yesterday, though I don't expect it to be too quiet for much longer,” Star said. I nodded; I didn’t expect it to stay quiet either. I tried unsuccessfully to catch Grr’s gaze, but he still refused to look at me. I gave up and stared at a spot on the floor.
“Anybody wanna hear anythin?” Grr asked.
“Anything by Twisted Sister,” Starwalker said with is usual incongruent cheer. “Or KISS.” Bellaa nodded to the last request, then shifted on the couch, turning onto her side and gazing out the windows.
“Twisted Sister I can do, or…maaaybe some KISS,” Grr replied.
Starwalker sighed, changing the subject. “Hell of a fight here yesterday, three or four deaders attacking residents….”
“Who won?” Grr asked while he continued to queue up songs.
“Well, the fighting isn't still going on…so I guess we did for now.” Starwalker stared out the window. “With all the gun fire, I was up on the fire escape casting my healing magicks on those below that fought. Took them a while to figure out that they were shooting each other up in cross fire as much as they were getting hurt by the risen dead.”
I listened as Starwalker spoke, then finally glanced up and said quietly to Grr, “I'd like to hear The Wolf Sky.” He looked sharply across at me, mixed emotions flashing across his face: anger, fear, deep sadness. I stared at the floor again. I didn’t understand why he either wouldn’t look at me or why he had looked at me the way he’d just done, but I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I reached over to brush Bellaa's hair back. She jumped slightly, the touch on her head waking her from the daydream that she had slipped into as she was staring out the window.
“I should probably get some rest,” Bella murmured. “It’s been a huge day for me. Joah, where did you say I could…or should sleep?” As she looked up at me, Starwalker said something about checking the Library. He unfurled his wings and stepped out of the second story window.
“You can rest in the Shelter, Bellaa,” I replied. “But if you feel comfortable there, you may also rest in the Library. We have cots upstairs, although you are welcome to rest on my bed. It’s in the small room next to the Lady's office.”
Bellaa stood and stretched. “Thanks Joah. I think I will head back that way and see if I can get some form of rest, at least for a little while...” She turned toward Grr, “Nice meeting you.”
Grr nodded. “And you, dont get killed.”
Bella laughed nervously. “Umm...one last question...which way do I go to not get killed?”
“North, head north.” Grr pointed behind him, over his left shoulder. “That way, one block over, three blocks up.”
Bellaa nodded. “Gotcha, and thanks.” She waved a goodbye, trying to smile bravely as she headed out.
And then we were alone. I looked up again at Grr, worry clouding my face. He continued working as if I weren’t there. The minutes ticked on. Finally, I closed my eyes and listened quietly to the music. I didn’t even try to dance.
“Where do tha coins come from?” Grr’s voice interrupted my scattered thoughts. “Spirit Gal? where do yer coins come from?” The question was abrupt.
I sighed. “It…depends. Do you mean the coins I gave the waitress?”
Grr nodded, then spoke brusquely. “That too. Legion eats memories. You gave Lorne a coin. Ya arrived here with lots of memories gone, and pockets full of old coins.”
I slipped one hand in my pocket, holding up an ancient looking copper coin. “The coins in my pocket…I'm not sure where they came from, to be honest. What I gave Lorne was not one of those. As for Legion…Legion has taken none of what memories I do have.” I slipped the coin back into my pocket.
“Fine.” One word. That was all he said. I winced at his tone of voice.
“Grr,” I began, not knowing quite what to say. “I sacrificed something to Lorne…the coin…was just a representation of it. It was small and cold and misshapen…but it was a representation, nonetheless.”
Grr turned swiftly toward me. “Ya could have asked,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “I'd have left ya alone.”
I was confused. “Left me alone? But…but I don't want you to leave me alone.”
“Well, I'll be sure ta avoid humpin yer leg,” Grr said in a cold mimicry of Lorne’s words.
My eyes widened with understanding. “Oh, Grr…He didn't mean…I mean…when He took what He took….” I trailed off.
“Yeah,” Grr said, voice full of pain. “And when “it” rubs on yer leg, ya wont have ta feel a thing.”
“No…no, Grr.” I shook my head. “Lorne wasn't speaking about you.”
“Huh?” A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Then who?”
I took a deep breath. “Do you remember, I asked Him how to fight the powers of an Incubus? He was taunting Severus.”
“Yeah…lust,” Grr nodded. “When? What? Tha Maker?” Grr’s expression of puzzlement had turned to surprise.
I nodded. “What Lorne said to me was…well, he suggested that if I did not want Severus' body, I should sacrifice any taste I had for it to Him. And…I agreed.” Breathe, I kept telling myself. Breathe. “The coin…was something he pulled from within me. Not from my pockets.”
“Tha Maker?” Grr asked again.
“No,” I replied. “Lorne pulled it from me.”
Once more Grr asked, “About tha Maker?”
“Yes, Grr. My desire for the Maker…to free me from the effects of the Incubus.”
“Not me?” he asked, a strange look washing over his face.
“Severus…only. Not you, beloved. Not ever you,” I sighed.
“I…” Grr began. “Not me? Not me!”
“No, never, you, Grr.”
Suddenly, there was a streak of fur and paws as he ran over. He scooped me up and began swinging me about, laughing. “Rah seh nacs sherrr rash grrrah charrrkk,” he said between laughs. I smiled and tried to wrap my arms around his neck as he began dancing to the song that was playing, carrying me effortlessly.
“You are…you have all my desire,” I whispered. He gently plopped me down and pressed his muzzle against my face.
“I don’t need it all, Spirit Gal, just any.” I could feel the softness of his fur against my skin.
“Well,” I began blushing. “Denenthorn has all my desire, too.” I kissed Grr's muzzle affectionately, breathing in the scent of his fur.
Grr opened a single golden eye, in line with mine. He swiveled and looked into me. “Any, all I need.”
I nodded, smiling, “All you need.”
“Ahoy!” Faye'Li shouted, grinning as she walked up the stairs.
Grr looked up, “Err, yer a pirate now, Messenger? Oop! Song!”
“Yes…back to work, you,” I said before smiling warmly at Faye’Li, all traces of worry gone from my face.
Faye’li looked from me to Grr and back. “Glad you're both ok.”
“Am now,” Grr beamed. “Had a worry there fer a bit.”
“Oh? problem?” Faye’Li asked, as she moved toward the arm chair and settled herself comfortably in it.
“We had a magickal misunderstandin, Messenger,” Grr explained, “Tha Spirit Gal and me.”
“Oh, hope is alright now,” Fay’Li said politely.
“Yup! All bloody good!” Grr beamed.
I smiled as I felt a warm flush creep up my cheeks. “Yes…all good.”
Faye'Li chuckled. “I…see,” she giggled, and then the talk turned to other things.
“It’s been quieter than yesterday, though I don't expect it to be too quiet for much longer,” Star said. I nodded; I didn’t expect it to stay quiet either. I tried unsuccessfully to catch Grr’s gaze, but he still refused to look at me. I gave up and stared at a spot on the floor.
“Anybody wanna hear anythin?” Grr asked.
“Anything by Twisted Sister,” Starwalker said with is usual incongruent cheer. “Or KISS.” Bellaa nodded to the last request, then shifted on the couch, turning onto her side and gazing out the windows.
“Twisted Sister I can do, or…maaaybe some KISS,” Grr replied.
Starwalker sighed, changing the subject. “Hell of a fight here yesterday, three or four deaders attacking residents….”
“Who won?” Grr asked while he continued to queue up songs.
“Well, the fighting isn't still going on…so I guess we did for now.” Starwalker stared out the window. “With all the gun fire, I was up on the fire escape casting my healing magicks on those below that fought. Took them a while to figure out that they were shooting each other up in cross fire as much as they were getting hurt by the risen dead.”
I listened as Starwalker spoke, then finally glanced up and said quietly to Grr, “I'd like to hear The Wolf Sky.” He looked sharply across at me, mixed emotions flashing across his face: anger, fear, deep sadness. I stared at the floor again. I didn’t understand why he either wouldn’t look at me or why he had looked at me the way he’d just done, but I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I reached over to brush Bellaa's hair back. She jumped slightly, the touch on her head waking her from the daydream that she had slipped into as she was staring out the window.
“I should probably get some rest,” Bella murmured. “It’s been a huge day for me. Joah, where did you say I could…or should sleep?” As she looked up at me, Starwalker said something about checking the Library. He unfurled his wings and stepped out of the second story window.
“You can rest in the Shelter, Bellaa,” I replied. “But if you feel comfortable there, you may also rest in the Library. We have cots upstairs, although you are welcome to rest on my bed. It’s in the small room next to the Lady's office.”
Bellaa stood and stretched. “Thanks Joah. I think I will head back that way and see if I can get some form of rest, at least for a little while...” She turned toward Grr, “Nice meeting you.”
Grr nodded. “And you, dont get killed.”
Bella laughed nervously. “Umm...one last question...which way do I go to not get killed?”
“North, head north.” Grr pointed behind him, over his left shoulder. “That way, one block over, three blocks up.”
Bellaa nodded. “Gotcha, and thanks.” She waved a goodbye, trying to smile bravely as she headed out.
And then we were alone. I looked up again at Grr, worry clouding my face. He continued working as if I weren’t there. The minutes ticked on. Finally, I closed my eyes and listened quietly to the music. I didn’t even try to dance.
“Where do tha coins come from?” Grr’s voice interrupted my scattered thoughts. “Spirit Gal? where do yer coins come from?” The question was abrupt.
I sighed. “It…depends. Do you mean the coins I gave the waitress?”
Grr nodded, then spoke brusquely. “That too. Legion eats memories. You gave Lorne a coin. Ya arrived here with lots of memories gone, and pockets full of old coins.”
I slipped one hand in my pocket, holding up an ancient looking copper coin. “The coins in my pocket…I'm not sure where they came from, to be honest. What I gave Lorne was not one of those. As for Legion…Legion has taken none of what memories I do have.” I slipped the coin back into my pocket.
“Fine.” One word. That was all he said. I winced at his tone of voice.
“Grr,” I began, not knowing quite what to say. “I sacrificed something to Lorne…the coin…was just a representation of it. It was small and cold and misshapen…but it was a representation, nonetheless.”
Grr turned swiftly toward me. “Ya could have asked,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “I'd have left ya alone.”
I was confused. “Left me alone? But…but I don't want you to leave me alone.”
“Well, I'll be sure ta avoid humpin yer leg,” Grr said in a cold mimicry of Lorne’s words.
My eyes widened with understanding. “Oh, Grr…He didn't mean…I mean…when He took what He took….” I trailed off.
“Yeah,” Grr said, voice full of pain. “And when “it” rubs on yer leg, ya wont have ta feel a thing.”
“No…no, Grr.” I shook my head. “Lorne wasn't speaking about you.”
“Huh?” A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Then who?”
I took a deep breath. “Do you remember, I asked Him how to fight the powers of an Incubus? He was taunting Severus.”
“Yeah…lust,” Grr nodded. “When? What? Tha Maker?” Grr’s expression of puzzlement had turned to surprise.
I nodded. “What Lorne said to me was…well, he suggested that if I did not want Severus' body, I should sacrifice any taste I had for it to Him. And…I agreed.” Breathe, I kept telling myself. Breathe. “The coin…was something he pulled from within me. Not from my pockets.”
“Tha Maker?” Grr asked again.
“No,” I replied. “Lorne pulled it from me.”
Once more Grr asked, “About tha Maker?”
“Yes, Grr. My desire for the Maker…to free me from the effects of the Incubus.”
“Not me?” he asked, a strange look washing over his face.
“Severus…only. Not you, beloved. Not ever you,” I sighed.
“I…” Grr began. “Not me? Not me!”
“No, never, you, Grr.”
Suddenly, there was a streak of fur and paws as he ran over. He scooped me up and began swinging me about, laughing. “Rah seh nacs sherrr rash grrrah charrrkk,” he said between laughs. I smiled and tried to wrap my arms around his neck as he began dancing to the song that was playing, carrying me effortlessly.
“You are…you have all my desire,” I whispered. He gently plopped me down and pressed his muzzle against my face.
“I don’t need it all, Spirit Gal, just any.” I could feel the softness of his fur against my skin.
“Well,” I began blushing. “Denenthorn has all my desire, too.” I kissed Grr's muzzle affectionately, breathing in the scent of his fur.
Grr opened a single golden eye, in line with mine. He swiveled and looked into me. “Any, all I need.”
I nodded, smiling, “All you need.”
“Ahoy!” Faye'Li shouted, grinning as she walked up the stairs.
Grr looked up, “Err, yer a pirate now, Messenger? Oop! Song!”
“Yes…back to work, you,” I said before smiling warmly at Faye’Li, all traces of worry gone from my face.
Faye’li looked from me to Grr and back. “Glad you're both ok.”
“Am now,” Grr beamed. “Had a worry there fer a bit.”
“Oh? problem?” Faye’Li asked, as she moved toward the arm chair and settled herself comfortably in it.
“We had a magickal misunderstandin, Messenger,” Grr explained, “Tha Spirit Gal and me.”
“Oh, hope is alright now,” Fay’Li said politely.
“Yup! All bloody good!” Grr beamed.
I smiled as I felt a warm flush creep up my cheeks. “Yes…all good.”
Faye'Li chuckled. “I…see,” she giggled, and then the talk turned to other things.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
To Resist His Charms
“Lorne, may I ask You a question?” I spoke with hesitance. He raised His eyebrows to me attentively, and I continued. “How does one resist an incubus?”
Lorne gave a nod, letting out a slow breath as He stood more comfortably. “Old, old magic. If you ask for help, and you make a sacrifice, there is a great deal I can do for you.” He paused as a portal opened, and with a rush of cold air, Severus appeared. Lorne continued, gesticulating toward Severus as if presenting, “You don't want this? Sacrifice your taste for it to Me.”
Glancing at Lorne with supreme distaste, Severus gestured dismissively with one large pale-clawed hand. “Whatever it is...I think not,” he drawled with his usual sarcasm.
I watched Severus carefully for a moment, then stepped closer to Grr, laying a hand on his arm. Grr looked up at Severus. “G'day Maker. Water botherin ya?”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly. “No worse than it did millennia ago….”
Lorne caught my eye and waved off Severus' response. “There, there, big guy, I know you don't like Me. Of course, I wasn't speaking to you, so the point is moot.”
“Don’t think yourself special,” Severus snorted. “I don’t like anyone.”
Lorne grinned. “Not even yourself. Yes, we know.”
“Nothing like a master of the obvious, Lorne,” Severus muttered dryly.
I glanced from Severus to Lorne and back, watching both demons warily, awaiting Lorne’s response when it dawned on me that He’d already answered. My eyes widened with understanding. It barely registered to me that Omega and come into the Library, I was so focused on the matter at hand. I bit my lip and met Lorne's gaze.
Lorne looked back at me, grinning. “To fight hellfire with hellfire. The irony itself is something to be appreciated. Granted, I never have resided in hell, nor in fire of that name, but let's just leave that pass, shall we?”
With bluster and the sound of wet boots on stone, Denenthorn swept into the Library. “Hullo Lorne, Sev, My Sweet, Coyote, Lady Grace....” Denenthorn has taken to calling me that. Lady Grace. He yawned loudly. “What's up?”
“I’ve no idea, just got here,” Severus muttered, giving me a pointed look.
“Water levels, fer one,” Grr replied, “And tha zombies….”
Denenthorn shrugged, “I've fought it all before, bring it on,” he replied lazily.
“Lorne,” Omega said with mild sarcasm, “Such a pleasure to see you again. Have you bought cake?”
Lorne did not reply to the Lady and let others field Denenthorn’s question. He raised His eyebrows expectantly to me, holding a hand out as if to prompt. “It starts simply, really. You needn't even say it out loud...I want....”
I looked steadily at Lorne, shifting slightly in His direction. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yes.”
Grr immediately alerted, looking from me to Lorne and back, then from me to Severus and to Omega, and back to me. “What are ya askin?” he spoke with alarm.
Lorne said nothing, but held my eyes. As I nodded, His hand closed abruptly, and He looked down to it. Opening His palm, a rather corroded looking coin, crude and uneven, lay there in His palm. He took it, and slipped it into His breast pocket, patting it as He looked to Omega, finally answering her question. “I'm afraid I don't deal or gift in lies, Omega. I had a gift, but it's already been given.”
I shook my head as if waking up when the coin appeared in Lorne's hand. I felt…different. I looked at Him again and smiled, murmuring, “Thank you.”
Grr opened his mouth at the sight of the coin and looked at me, still open-mouthed. “Coins…Spirit Gal, what did you do?”
Lorne gazed at me. “Not at’all. If it oils its nude body in front of you, and starts humping your leg, as if it would, you will feel not the mildest tingle.”
Omega turned toward me with a raised brow. I started to speak but was taken aback by the stricken look on Grr’s face.
“I…I….I have ta go,” he said in a rush of words, bounding out into the water of the flooded first floor, sloshing in the direction of the Hotel. Omega sighed, watching his retreat. I stared after him as he bolted away, full of concern and not understanding what had happened.
Severus blinked at Grr's disappearance and then glanced back to me. “Joah...so I repeat...what’s all this then?” he muttered irritably.
“Would you like me to show you?” I asked, turning toward Severus.
“Probably not,” he replied tersely, “But you can go ahead and spit it out.”
In answer, I simply began walking slowly toward Severus as he gave a heavy sigh and glowered down at me. He watched me warily, his towering frame taught, as if ready to spring away from my touch. I stopped, full of uncertainty. I looked from Severus to Lorne, hesitating.
“No cause to worry, Joah,” Lorne said quietly. “I have it all right here.” He patted his pocket.
I nodded to Lorne, then stepped very close to Severus and placed my hand in the sigil on his thigh. Severus scowled blackly as my hand passed through his ward to touch him. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” he said with anger, taking a step backward.
I said nothing, but stepped closer again, pulling off one of my HazMat gloves and placing my bare hand on Severus' chest. Lorne raised His brows expectantly, turning His head slightly to the side. “Anything?” he asked.
“No…nothing,” I replied with a smile. “Not a tingle.”
“What the fuck did I just miss?” Denenthorn blinked.
Omega whirled around, “Joah? What have you done?”
Severus glared icily as I touched him again. I knew that the reflex of his skin would send a torrent of pure lust to course through me, yet there I stood: unaffected. Severus tensed, his pale body growing taut as he drew in a sharp breath through fangs. “What the hell did you do?”
Lorne nodded, smiling. “Excellent.”
“I sacrificed something, Severus,” I said quietly, my hand remaining on his chest. There was nothing, just as Lorne had promised. Not a tingle.
Denenthorn looked on rather confused “Can someone tell me what in the world is going on?”
Severus narrowed his piercing pale eyes sharply at me, brushing my hand aside. “So now, not only do you have no soul but no desire? Of all the utter bloody stupid....” He ground out between clenched fangs: “Why?”
Lorne gestured towards Severus, and then to me. “I believe she may be getting to the exposition right now.”
“I still have desire, Severus,” I replied. “But I won't be left in the Dreaming again by you.” Denenthorn studied me a confused, concerned expression on his face.
“Lorne has, it seems…given Joah a charm against…well, Severus' charms,” Omega said coolly. “Am I correct?”
I shook my head. “Not a charm, Omega. He holds in His hand…my desire for Severus.”
Lorne looked over to Omega, reaching for His pocket as He gazed at me. “Well, in My pocket, but close enough.”
Omega gave me a long look. “Joah, why would you give him such a thing? Have you learned nothing from us…from Nareth?” Nareth had gone willingly to Lorne, trying to summon…something. In the process, Lorne had slain Nareth, feeding her in bits to the Shadows…keeping only her heart.
I turned toward Omega, watching her carefully, but saying nothing.
Lorne pulled out the coin from his pocket, looking down to it, then up again to Omega. “Do explain that to Severus, won't you?”
Severus continued glaring at me. “I certainly dont scent her,” he said as if I were no longer in the room. “You did all this just because of that...I repeat, utterly absurd....” he trailed off with a dark scowl.
“It is hard to feel pity for a lamb that will not stop straying into the abattoir, Joah,” said Omega with more than a trace of anger in her voice.
Denenthorn appeared deep in thought. With a small frown on his face, all he said was, “I see....”
“Lorne,” Omega said sharply, “If I were the megalomaniac you think me, I would not allow Joah to do this thing. Nor would I allow her to continue to indulge your...obsessive meddling.”
Severus gestured dismissively at me. “If you had wanted me to be less than nothing, you certainly succeeded. I trust you're satisfied,” he murmured, his voice dull.
I watched Severus thoughtfully and sadly as he opened a portal and disappeared without a word. I then turned toward Omega, glancing briefly at Lorne. Breathing deeply, I replied, “He was not meddling. I asked Him.”
Lorne smiled warmly at Omega. “I do enjoy our little chats. I just may grow a wide mustache if there is a next time...I would defend Myself, really, I would, but...” He sighed dreamily, “you paint such vivid picture, I find Myself swept away.”
Denenthorn rolled his eyes. “Both of you argue too much. It's bad for yer health....”
“Nonsense, Denny,” Lorne grinned. “I'm teasing her, not arguing. If there were any purpose in arguing, her side of this marry old capering would not have grown new, and exciting limbs.”
Omega shook her head and watched Lorne in cold, icy silence.
Lorne creased His brow, turning back towards Omega, muttering with a wry sort of soft tone, “Exciting limbs. What a ridiculous phrase. I like it.”
I turned away from Omega and Denenthorn, nodded my head slightly to Lorne, and headed upstairs.
Lorne gave a nod, letting out a slow breath as He stood more comfortably. “Old, old magic. If you ask for help, and you make a sacrifice, there is a great deal I can do for you.” He paused as a portal opened, and with a rush of cold air, Severus appeared. Lorne continued, gesticulating toward Severus as if presenting, “You don't want this? Sacrifice your taste for it to Me.”
Glancing at Lorne with supreme distaste, Severus gestured dismissively with one large pale-clawed hand. “Whatever it is...I think not,” he drawled with his usual sarcasm.
I watched Severus carefully for a moment, then stepped closer to Grr, laying a hand on his arm. Grr looked up at Severus. “G'day Maker. Water botherin ya?”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly. “No worse than it did millennia ago….”
Lorne caught my eye and waved off Severus' response. “There, there, big guy, I know you don't like Me. Of course, I wasn't speaking to you, so the point is moot.”
“Don’t think yourself special,” Severus snorted. “I don’t like anyone.”
Lorne grinned. “Not even yourself. Yes, we know.”
“Nothing like a master of the obvious, Lorne,” Severus muttered dryly.
I glanced from Severus to Lorne and back, watching both demons warily, awaiting Lorne’s response when it dawned on me that He’d already answered. My eyes widened with understanding. It barely registered to me that Omega and come into the Library, I was so focused on the matter at hand. I bit my lip and met Lorne's gaze.
Lorne looked back at me, grinning. “To fight hellfire with hellfire. The irony itself is something to be appreciated. Granted, I never have resided in hell, nor in fire of that name, but let's just leave that pass, shall we?”
With bluster and the sound of wet boots on stone, Denenthorn swept into the Library. “Hullo Lorne, Sev, My Sweet, Coyote, Lady Grace....” Denenthorn has taken to calling me that. Lady Grace. He yawned loudly. “What's up?”
“I’ve no idea, just got here,” Severus muttered, giving me a pointed look.
“Water levels, fer one,” Grr replied, “And tha zombies….”
Denenthorn shrugged, “I've fought it all before, bring it on,” he replied lazily.
“Lorne,” Omega said with mild sarcasm, “Such a pleasure to see you again. Have you bought cake?”
Lorne did not reply to the Lady and let others field Denenthorn’s question. He raised His eyebrows expectantly to me, holding a hand out as if to prompt. “It starts simply, really. You needn't even say it out loud...I want....”
I looked steadily at Lorne, shifting slightly in His direction. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yes.”
Grr immediately alerted, looking from me to Lorne and back, then from me to Severus and to Omega, and back to me. “What are ya askin?” he spoke with alarm.
Lorne said nothing, but held my eyes. As I nodded, His hand closed abruptly, and He looked down to it. Opening His palm, a rather corroded looking coin, crude and uneven, lay there in His palm. He took it, and slipped it into His breast pocket, patting it as He looked to Omega, finally answering her question. “I'm afraid I don't deal or gift in lies, Omega. I had a gift, but it's already been given.”
I shook my head as if waking up when the coin appeared in Lorne's hand. I felt…different. I looked at Him again and smiled, murmuring, “Thank you.”
Grr opened his mouth at the sight of the coin and looked at me, still open-mouthed. “Coins…Spirit Gal, what did you do?”
Lorne gazed at me. “Not at’all. If it oils its nude body in front of you, and starts humping your leg, as if it would, you will feel not the mildest tingle.”
Omega turned toward me with a raised brow. I started to speak but was taken aback by the stricken look on Grr’s face.
“I…I….I have ta go,” he said in a rush of words, bounding out into the water of the flooded first floor, sloshing in the direction of the Hotel. Omega sighed, watching his retreat. I stared after him as he bolted away, full of concern and not understanding what had happened.
Severus blinked at Grr's disappearance and then glanced back to me. “Joah...so I repeat...what’s all this then?” he muttered irritably.
“Would you like me to show you?” I asked, turning toward Severus.
“Probably not,” he replied tersely, “But you can go ahead and spit it out.”
In answer, I simply began walking slowly toward Severus as he gave a heavy sigh and glowered down at me. He watched me warily, his towering frame taught, as if ready to spring away from my touch. I stopped, full of uncertainty. I looked from Severus to Lorne, hesitating.
“No cause to worry, Joah,” Lorne said quietly. “I have it all right here.” He patted his pocket.
I nodded to Lorne, then stepped very close to Severus and placed my hand in the sigil on his thigh. Severus scowled blackly as my hand passed through his ward to touch him. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” he said with anger, taking a step backward.
I said nothing, but stepped closer again, pulling off one of my HazMat gloves and placing my bare hand on Severus' chest. Lorne raised His brows expectantly, turning His head slightly to the side. “Anything?” he asked.
“No…nothing,” I replied with a smile. “Not a tingle.”
“What the fuck did I just miss?” Denenthorn blinked.
Omega whirled around, “Joah? What have you done?”
Severus glared icily as I touched him again. I knew that the reflex of his skin would send a torrent of pure lust to course through me, yet there I stood: unaffected. Severus tensed, his pale body growing taut as he drew in a sharp breath through fangs. “What the hell did you do?”
Lorne nodded, smiling. “Excellent.”
“I sacrificed something, Severus,” I said quietly, my hand remaining on his chest. There was nothing, just as Lorne had promised. Not a tingle.
Denenthorn looked on rather confused “Can someone tell me what in the world is going on?”
Severus narrowed his piercing pale eyes sharply at me, brushing my hand aside. “So now, not only do you have no soul but no desire? Of all the utter bloody stupid....” He ground out between clenched fangs: “Why?”
Lorne gestured towards Severus, and then to me. “I believe she may be getting to the exposition right now.”
“I still have desire, Severus,” I replied. “But I won't be left in the Dreaming again by you.” Denenthorn studied me a confused, concerned expression on his face.
“Lorne has, it seems…given Joah a charm against…well, Severus' charms,” Omega said coolly. “Am I correct?”
I shook my head. “Not a charm, Omega. He holds in His hand…my desire for Severus.”
Lorne looked over to Omega, reaching for His pocket as He gazed at me. “Well, in My pocket, but close enough.”
Omega gave me a long look. “Joah, why would you give him such a thing? Have you learned nothing from us…from Nareth?” Nareth had gone willingly to Lorne, trying to summon…something. In the process, Lorne had slain Nareth, feeding her in bits to the Shadows…keeping only her heart.
I turned toward Omega, watching her carefully, but saying nothing.
Lorne pulled out the coin from his pocket, looking down to it, then up again to Omega. “Do explain that to Severus, won't you?”
Severus continued glaring at me. “I certainly dont scent her,” he said as if I were no longer in the room. “You did all this just because of that...I repeat, utterly absurd....” he trailed off with a dark scowl.
“It is hard to feel pity for a lamb that will not stop straying into the abattoir, Joah,” said Omega with more than a trace of anger in her voice.
Denenthorn appeared deep in thought. With a small frown on his face, all he said was, “I see....”
“Lorne,” Omega said sharply, “If I were the megalomaniac you think me, I would not allow Joah to do this thing. Nor would I allow her to continue to indulge your...obsessive meddling.”
Severus gestured dismissively at me. “If you had wanted me to be less than nothing, you certainly succeeded. I trust you're satisfied,” he murmured, his voice dull.
I watched Severus thoughtfully and sadly as he opened a portal and disappeared without a word. I then turned toward Omega, glancing briefly at Lorne. Breathing deeply, I replied, “He was not meddling. I asked Him.”
Lorne smiled warmly at Omega. “I do enjoy our little chats. I just may grow a wide mustache if there is a next time...I would defend Myself, really, I would, but...” He sighed dreamily, “you paint such vivid picture, I find Myself swept away.”
Denenthorn rolled his eyes. “Both of you argue too much. It's bad for yer health....”
“Nonsense, Denny,” Lorne grinned. “I'm teasing her, not arguing. If there were any purpose in arguing, her side of this marry old capering would not have grown new, and exciting limbs.”
Omega shook her head and watched Lorne in cold, icy silence.
Lorne creased His brow, turning back towards Omega, muttering with a wry sort of soft tone, “Exciting limbs. What a ridiculous phrase. I like it.”
I turned away from Omega and Denenthorn, nodded my head slightly to Lorne, and headed upstairs.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Threnody
Cara Amica,
I hasten this letter to you, Blue, because no moment must be lost when a heart is breaking. I have thought of you often since the darkness of recent events. Though we cannot assist another's night, I hope that she who received immortality against her will has found some measure of peace. It was a bloody gift and one not willingly accepted.
To remember your sister-wife now is all any of us can do. I will not forget that she saved my life the night I went with Labyrinth through the fire and the void. But it is with grief now that our remembrance must be done. Perhaps she does not go so far, as we who stay behind suppose. Perhaps she will come closer to you, Blue, for the lapse of her corporeal clothes.
I can only hope that my broken words have helped you. I felt so faint in uttering them, thinking of your great pain.
With greatest sadness for your loss,
I remain,
J.M.
(Adapted from the funerary letters of Emily Dickenson.)
R.I.P., Picket McDonnell
Denenthorn stalked by the Shadows
I hasten this letter to you, Blue, because no moment must be lost when a heart is breaking. I have thought of you often since the darkness of recent events. Though we cannot assist another's night, I hope that she who received immortality against her will has found some measure of peace. It was a bloody gift and one not willingly accepted.
To remember your sister-wife now is all any of us can do. I will not forget that she saved my life the night I went with Labyrinth through the fire and the void. But it is with grief now that our remembrance must be done. Perhaps she does not go so far, as we who stay behind suppose. Perhaps she will come closer to you, Blue, for the lapse of her corporeal clothes.
I can only hope that my broken words have helped you. I felt so faint in uttering them, thinking of your great pain.
With greatest sadness for your loss,
I remain,
J.M.
(Adapted from the funerary letters of Emily Dickenson.)
R.I.P., Picket McDonnell
Denenthorn stalked by the Shadows
Friday, September 19, 2008
While the brown girl lay sleeping
I lifted my skirt slightly with a palm to my thigh and headed back down the stairs, to the drawing room of the Library. “I think she's resting now, Grr. What was all that ruckus about?”
Denenthorn stood talking with Grr, wings stiff yet slightly unfurled. “Have I ever told you how hard it is for me to remember songs?” he jokingly asked me. I frowned, confused and turned back to Grr.
“The tosser hothead bolt-faces wanted ta whine that their playhouse went bang after Her Ladyship pulled their asses outta tha fire and gave them tha kiss of life...typical.” The Continuum. The Lady had managed to save them all from dying as the result of a hack, but collateral damage had left their headquarters in ruins.
Denenthorn shrugged. “Don't fret. I'll talk to Fareabell and smooth it all over.”
“That’s good,” Grr replied, then gestured upstairs where the sleeping Nareth lay. “Tha was a real shock, I wondered, maybe, if tha Nareth-Bot got Pinochio'd.”
“Joah,” Denenthorn frowned, “Does that thing upstairs resemble my granddaughter any?”
I sighed. “She’s not a thing, Denenthorn. She’s a woman.”
“You are sure?” Denenthorn met my eyes with a deep question in his.
“Am I sure that she is a woman? Yes. Am I sure that she’s human? Not entirely. But she appears to be…and I'm very tired.”
Denenthorn nodded. “May I meet her when she awakens?”
“I am sure that you can, Denenthorn,” I replied. “Just be careful of the blade.”
“The blade will not come near her,” Denenthorn muttered. “I shall place it off my body.”
Grr sighed, “Both of you…just in case.”
Denenthorn stood talking with Grr, wings stiff yet slightly unfurled. “Have I ever told you how hard it is for me to remember songs?” he jokingly asked me. I frowned, confused and turned back to Grr.
“The tosser hothead bolt-faces wanted ta whine that their playhouse went bang after Her Ladyship pulled their asses outta tha fire and gave them tha kiss of life...typical.” The Continuum. The Lady had managed to save them all from dying as the result of a hack, but collateral damage had left their headquarters in ruins.
Denenthorn shrugged. “Don't fret. I'll talk to Fareabell and smooth it all over.”
“That’s good,” Grr replied, then gestured upstairs where the sleeping Nareth lay. “Tha was a real shock, I wondered, maybe, if tha Nareth-Bot got Pinochio'd.”
“Joah,” Denenthorn frowned, “Does that thing upstairs resemble my granddaughter any?”
I sighed. “She’s not a thing, Denenthorn. She’s a woman.”
“You are sure?” Denenthorn met my eyes with a deep question in his.
“Am I sure that she is a woman? Yes. Am I sure that she’s human? Not entirely. But she appears to be…and I'm very tired.”
Denenthorn nodded. “May I meet her when she awakens?”
“I am sure that you can, Denenthorn,” I replied. “Just be careful of the blade.”
“The blade will not come near her,” Denenthorn muttered. “I shall place it off my body.”
Grr sighed, “Both of you…just in case.”
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