"Oh no you don't," she said, grabbing the instrument. She took his oversized collar and threw him up against a wall, making a point to put the pole against his voice box. "No music, no hypnotizing, and that's final." Hamelin began chuckling. His voice was almost as annoying as the damn flute, but it was infinitely more tolerable. That sound would keep her from falling asleep like, as he said, a giant.
"You think you're the first to come to and threaten me? You are one more sleeper, and your dear little sister is coming along for the ride." He was suddenly across the room, next to Kirsa and playing his tune again. The three were facing each other then and Maran realized that the man was playing to her sister, who was sporting a chipper smile on her face as she approached her elder. Maran's grip on the pole loosened for a second, even though the look was creepy as hell, and Kirsa took it easily into her hand.
Then it swung upwards. An impact on her chin. Maran fell to her back and Kirsa lunged forward with the splintered end coming down towards her face. Rolling out of the way at the last second, the sound of splintering wood followed as Kirsa's blow damaged the wood floors. Crap! On her feet again, Maran reached at the flailing weapon and caught it with a few of her fingers. Kirsa gleamed with happiness and pulled the post straight back, causing splinters to dig into her sister's hand. She let out a short howl and grabbed the smooth end of the stick, injury noted and surpassed. The pain was a reminder that it wasn't really necessary to stop when hurt. Kirsa slid away before Maran could punch her, being evasive with a playful streak. It wasn't a bad idea, just highly inconvenient for the older of the two. Before she could step forward again, the post came flying from the side, clocking Maran in the temple. She cursed and walked to the side of the room. The pain was immediate and prolonging and she wanted it to stop Now!
Her little sister began to walk to the back porch. When Hamelin's sound began to carry again, Maran punched the wall and began to lose feeling in her feet. Her body fell against the wall, sliding downwards while Kirsa stepped over her crouched form to skip out of the house. Hamelin began to laugh, his playing losing grip on her very slowly as his laughter turned to a hypnotizing song.
"Giant, giant, sleepy sleepy giant," he teased.
Fall asleep, hit the ground,
make sure you don't come around,
fight and cry and scream and wail,
let me know who's set to sail,
leave your homes and follow me,
right into the deep deep sea.
He trailed off as his laughter started up again, and the door slammed as Kirsa left the cooling house into the freezing outdoors. Maran knew she had to get up and follow, had to keep her sister from disappearing because of a crazy out in the world. Her legs were still numb and her head hurt like it should have, but she somehow found the energy to force their movement, staggering almost drunkenly to the back door to trail them. Her hand grabbed a blanket before bolting out the door, and something told her she would need it by the end of the night. If she were smart, she'd take the cell phone from her mother's den, but then again, if she were smart, she'd not try to call 9-1-1 and tell the police that her sister had been abducted by a magical creature bent on stealing her sister and doing who knows what.
The cell phone stayed in the den, she ran out the door at a dangerous speed. The short man, Hamelin, was turning out to be more trouble than he was worth, and as he led Kirsa away, two more doors shut in the distance. Who the hell wanted to leave their homes at this hour simultaneously? Stalker, pharmacologist, ransom, kidnapper, pedophile, tons of bad things to happen to innocent children in the dead of night, but this was a list of things Maran thought the man could've been.
But to explain the way the flute could stop her and remove kids from their homes—in this day and age!—still confused her. Maran knew with what she'd experienced so far tonight, her options were winding down and she'd have to accept a truth before the sun rose, be it an alarming discovery or a case of influenza. Kirsa began skipping East towards 7th & Maple, and the two who just exited their homes in order to follow the flutist music in a similar fashion. Maran had to know if she was facing something new, and as the cold air hit her face she had one thought going through her mind, Let the little bastard have the kid, it's too cold to chase after her. Part of her was completely fine with that one, only because she didn't want to go to the bay area, which seemed to be a highly possible destination.
She followed the small, cheering crowd down the street, and Hamelin appeared by a door. The door opened and a child answered with such enthusiasm. The music played louder, causing Maran to shut her eyes tight in order to concentrate. It was so intoxicating. She hobbled along after her sister, blind, and when the music faded so did the drunken feeling. Breaking off into a run, Maran pushed past a slew of dancing children that just appeared at a crossroad, Hamelin in the lead. She caught up with him in little time, trying to figure out the craziness of this situation before something bad happened.
They were heading towards the bay, and with mystified children unable to think on their own, it was probable that he was planning something massive to compensate for his loss, whatever that was. The water was well below swimming temperature, and Maran had to think fast before something drastic happened and they were all in deep trouble. There were things even she'd allow, like a joy walk around the city.
"Waitaminute. I need you to clear something up really quick. I can see you're a busy midget so I'll keep it to a minimum. You're a flutist who claims to have cleaned up an infestation and went unpaid. In response, you made the children of the city disappear. That's something out of a fairy tale. . . it doesn't happen in Real Life!" She grabbed his shoulder, turned him to face her.
"Of course it happens, giant, it's a true story."
"No it isn't! That had mystical crap and rats, a whole messload of people not paying up for something they saw coming. This isn't like that. You're just stealing kids and what? Training them to play follow-the-leader?" Hamelin giggled, actually giggled. Maran wanted to take a grip of his neck and squeeze as hard as she could. Why she didn't was beyond her but there was crazy logic all around tonight. When the laughter quieted down again, Hamelin approached her and drew her closer to his height with a wiggle of his finger. He made complete eye contact before whispering in a very low voice, different than from before with his laugh.
"The story remains that I didn't get paid. That's the moral. If you can't deal with this reality, what makes you think you understand your own?"
"She's just a kid!"
"And they were just rats." Maran froze. Kirsa tried to move forward, but the grip Maran had on her arm was vice-like. The air was cold and damp, and they were standing knee-deep in similar water, Maran breathing heavily but determined to win the situation. The Pied Piper was furious. And part of Maran had a fear of that look. The other part of her, the fighter, grew angry. Her hand came up and grabbed him by the face. Pushing him away with as much force as she could muster, she pulled Kirsa nearer to the shore. The music disappeared and she knew her chance had come. She grabbed her sister's other arm and turned her so they were face-to-face. While the music was still gone, Maran shook Kirsa as hard as she could. After a second, she went from limp to tense, her eyes opening for a second before she fell back and the music started again. Her eyes were open now, at least. Maran took that as her cue that she was in the presence of a sound-minded sister and turned to the Piper.
"You can't take the kids and you sure as hell haven't saved this city from any infestation. I still see the same scum everyday and the world isn't seeing anything worth changing for." Maran fell silent, shaking from fear, anger, and the cold. The Pied Piper of Hamelin said nothing, but he stared, his black eyes boring into hers. The cloudiness was gone, the music no longer bothering her. But those eyes, they promised suffering. Kirsa started to dance around, something frantic as she mumbled about freedom and whole families she could live with just beyond the waterfront, but that was several miles away, and Maran would be damned if she let her ungrateful sister drown herself.
"A pound of flesh I require! You're willing to make that deal?" the Piper yelled over the screams. Maran didn't say anything, but picked up her sister with as much force as she could and walked back to the shore. Setting the struggling, screaming girl of thirteen on the ground, she waited for her to balance before yanking the splintered post out of her grip. Her mind said goodnight the moment Maran swung at her stomach and winded her enough to cause unconsciousness.
"Sure." The laughter and song began to course through her once again, and the peace came back to her, promising the things she so desperately thought she could find with him. For the first time that night, she let herself think it was possible, and she faced the bay. The Pied Piper of Hamelin took his dues.
Kirsa woke up in the morning, groggy and her head pounding as the music faded. Stretching on the wet ground, her body rolled until she rested on her back. There were sirens in the background and she was pulled into a sitting position after awhile. The signals from her brain weren't reaching her limbs very quickly, she was so tired. "Kirsa? Answer me if you can hear me!" The person, a male, was trying to wake her up, and slowly the night came back to her. What was that sound, she asked herself as her body shook awake. Then she remembered cold water, eerie music, and her sister fighting some small man. Where was Maran? Kirsa remembered she was pulled into the water, and then what?
She remembered nothing then, nothing but the music. It lingered, and how it came after her. She couldn't scream, could barely talk when they asked questions. The sea called to her, like they had everyone else, but she was frozen in place from fear. All she could say was, "The music played, it played until they were all gone, it promised to take me away and I'd never felt so happy. But somehow the music stopped and I couldn't go too." She cried.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Dancing Children, pt. 1
Maran woke up to a strange wind that gusted through the house followed by a loud thud. She was awake, moreso than the rest of her family hopefully. In the chill of the night, it was possible there was a draft, but the old style of the Edenton was durable to stand the cold of winter. It could've been an opened door or window from downstairs, in which case the proper action to take would be to call the police and report a break-in. It would've been logical, but that wouldn't happen. She didn't really suspect a break-in. There was a window or door open somewhere and she had a feeling her sister had something to do with it, not a burglar.
Kirsa, her sister, had always been the restless type and her walking around in the dead of night was not unusual. When she snuck in the back door last time she had to intervene to give her sister the most subtle informative talk at two in the morning. Never before had she spoken to her about sneak tactics, but she managed to mention the back porch and ledge. Her sister was a bit of a slacker and Maran wasn't exactly daughter of the year, having slipped out at all hours of the morning herself until she was sixteen.
As a student, Maran found herself more immersed in her social activities than in her studies. It wasn't that she was popular—she wasn't—but that she fell in with a rather violent group and ruined her reputation with fights. Her mother caught her sneaking in through the back yard when working in the den. Up until that moment, her mother hadn't shown she suspected. A couple of months of intense therapy and some serious family time, she was a semi-model student. Now she was very well off their radar and into the proverbial melting pot of ignorance. She hated it, for the most part, but she didn't mind not being noticed. It was a sacrifice to let people think she'd converted to the social cult of America.
Normal people would've turned over and gone back to sleep. Maran in her old ways would've gone to shut the window before doing the same, but now her reaction was to go down and investigate somewhat. A likely scenario would be a midnight snack and paranoia and a positively embarrassing lecture from those awake.
But this felt different. Kirsa was usually quieter than this. There was no real possibility of drinking since she was more trouble when sober, but Maran needed to investigate. She sat up, ran a hand through her short brown hair to even it back, and pulled the sheets away. Her feet were itching to move, and it was driving her to leave the room in haste. Something about that wind was borrowing her for a moment, and she felt nearly entranced. The air was so thick she had to get to the door.
Then she heard it, the music. It was so faint that she had to concentrate to hear it. The eerie sound carried her away from her bed, getting louder as she gained distance. Almost to the door, her feet were moving alone to match the music coming from outside. It felt as though a warm blanket was being thrown over her, comforting her and lulling her into a deep sleep. Her body seemed to be in tune to the woodwind sound, but her mind was dozing too quickly for her taste. This shouldn't have been happening. She was in control of herself, she didn't need some outside force to try and exert power. The music suddenly became louder. Her arm shot out and grabbed a coat rack outside of her door, flinging sweaters and a hat into her mother's door. The woman could sleep through a nuclear blast.
Kirsa's door was wide open, and her curtains were billowing. Maran forced herself to concentrate on the cold in the walls as she dragged herself down the stairs and towards the front door, coat rack in tow. Her grip was painful, bringing her closer to what it felt to be awake. There was the choice to make now, whether to bring a weapon to the fight or play it by ear. She wasn't without any fight in her body, a mind of her own and several years in a karate class made her able to defend herself.
A voice appeared in her head, a soothing one with such an alluring sound that she found it hard not to listen. It was too calm and it caused her a headache because no one really sounded like that. The voice was promising her peace and quiet, things she desperately wanted, things Anyone would be foolish not to want so much. Grabbing the railing to the stairwell, she felt her feet almost fall into step and take her headfirst down the stairs. Peace and quiet, a place of her own where she could live. Away from the noise of the world she lived in. It was not far, and she could go with them and they could all live happily ever after. . . Maran scoffed then, her mind focusing on her hand gripping the handrail. Her body was turning to jelly about peace and quiet, but that was exactly the problem. Everyone wanted peace and quiet, so what was so special about that? The voice got quieter as she kept thinking, the fog in her mind disappearing as she became more skeptical of the sounds coming from inside her head.
Her body was back in her control. Finally, she thought. Now, lets see if we can find something worth going after.
She made her way down the stairs and peered into the living room. No one. There was a clear view to the dining room. That meant they were either in the dining room or kitchen, where there were tools of destruction. Maran didn't want to make herself vulnerable to attack. To meet an intruder without properly having something to bring to the fighting ring would be dangerous. The music began to fade, her senses returning to her. The post in her hand was snapped in half over her knee, which hurt at first but was a fade compared to the cloudiness from just now. Was there someone in the house other than the three of them? She made her way down the stairs quietly, dodging the creaky steps and holding her breath as she ventured towards the living room.
Then she heard mumbling around the corner. Kirsa was talking to someone in the kitchen, not begging or conversing like usual—which in her case was near yelling—but answering questions in an almost cheerful disposition. Kirsa wasn't a chipper person by any means, just like her sister. Maran's ears prickled a little at the mention of her name, and there was no secret about her position now. The splintered rod in her hand served well as a weapon, and she had every intention of using it on an assailant.
"She's overprotective, violent, and strong." Kirsa's voice. It didn't sound like her at all, more chipper and automatic, but the tone was not really unmistakable. When you lived with someone long enough, some things were automatic. Her hand clenched around the pole and she heard a male voice, accompanied by the returning music. This time it was louder than before, as though trying to convince her to fall back asleep. At first she thought it was a good idea, the sleep so calming it was sickening. It was a mellow light in the black. . . Then she heard her sister giggle. He giggled as well. His shrill sound pierced her eardrums, deadening the eerie tune again. Never again, she promised herself.
"She is a stubborn one," the male voice said again. He had an accent, possibly German, and why he was in her living room, Maran wasn't sure she'd find out right away and enjoy the answer if she did. "We'll have to bring her in to say hello." The music stopped altogether, but there was the opening of a drawer. Someone was going for something sharp. Crap, crap, crap. Maran's heart sped up and her grip loosened on instinct. She needed to get this one right. She also hoped that Kirsa wasn't going to let someone hurt either of them.
She just needed to stay completely quiet and strike when the opportunity was best. Then a voice whispered to her. "Psst. Who are we waiting for?" Maran tensed and saw spots. Turning, she found the broken coat rack gone from her hand and missing completely while staring into the face of a young man, quite a bit shorter than her. At five-foot-nine, Maran towered over many of her classmates and it helped with intimidation at times. The man was about four-foot-nine, and he carried something at his side. It looked like a recorder, but it looked so old. He wore a green shirt and tights, a belt holding his clothes up. Something told her he didn't belong from this region or even time, his clothes suggested. It worried her.
"Are you the sister?" His accent, so thick, was like an ice cube down her back. Her nails were digging into her palms, trying to grab onto the pole again that wasn't there. "I took away your little toy as good little girls don't play with sharp objects."
"Who are you?" Her voice cracked, it was so dry. The man grinned so wide his teeth glinted. His teeth were sharp enough to tear through leather, and that scared Maran. Many people were scared off by threats, idle or not. Maran's fears were based more on actual experience. Sharp things cut deep, and she'd been torn into before. The man looked so sure of himself that he could cut into her as well.
"Call me Hamelin. I'll be taking your sister. You're too old, a giant I'm afraid, but the journey specifically states that no giants are to be admitted."
"I'm not a giant. There are a lot of tall kids around. As I recall, you weren't able to hold onto me, not the other way around." There. The slight sneer and unwavering smugness he bore into her was moved just a bit.
"Either way, you're not a child by far, giant." The name he'd given her spiked her anger the slightest bit, driving away some of her fear. For a moment she could feel the weight of the post in her hand. She hadn't been aware of a cloudiness fogging her vision as she stood facing him. Her memory didn't feel like it was all there. Maran could hear her sister creaking up behind her, and turned to catch the hand sailing down to her soldier before it reached her. Kirsa had a knife and Maran had nothing. Thankfully Kirsa was also shorter and though she had a good right hook, she was no match for her older sister. Maran's eyes went wide as saucers when she spotted the look in those once dull eyes. They were green with excitement in the glow of the outside lamplight as she tried to push the knife down with incredible strength. The eldest of the two ducked under her sister's arm and twisted it back behind her, removing the blade from her hand. Maran had no idea what happened to her sister, whether she was in on this psycho's game or if she was hypnotized. She'd hurt the kid if she had to, but only with the intent of knocking her unconscious.
"And neither is my sister. What do you want?"
"A short time ago there was an infestation and I went unpaid."
"It's called an invoice."
"All debts are promises."
"Did you get shorted, then, Mister Hamelin?" He smiled again.
"In a manner of speaking, yes, so I'm taking my dues." Maran was confused. What dues could he possibly want that he'd have to entrance children to get them? She stared at him as though trying to step away and sweep the strange sense of familiarity into something discernable. It sounded somewhat familiar and it was on the tip of her tongue. Then it wasn't. The cloudiness came back and fought for some control over the thought process, taking her immediate line of thinking away. "As I said before, go back to sleep, giant."
He brought the flute to his lips and began to play. She didn't want to feel vulnerable again, and she knew what was coming.
Kirsa, her sister, had always been the restless type and her walking around in the dead of night was not unusual. When she snuck in the back door last time she had to intervene to give her sister the most subtle informative talk at two in the morning. Never before had she spoken to her about sneak tactics, but she managed to mention the back porch and ledge. Her sister was a bit of a slacker and Maran wasn't exactly daughter of the year, having slipped out at all hours of the morning herself until she was sixteen.
As a student, Maran found herself more immersed in her social activities than in her studies. It wasn't that she was popular—she wasn't—but that she fell in with a rather violent group and ruined her reputation with fights. Her mother caught her sneaking in through the back yard when working in the den. Up until that moment, her mother hadn't shown she suspected. A couple of months of intense therapy and some serious family time, she was a semi-model student. Now she was very well off their radar and into the proverbial melting pot of ignorance. She hated it, for the most part, but she didn't mind not being noticed. It was a sacrifice to let people think she'd converted to the social cult of America.
Normal people would've turned over and gone back to sleep. Maran in her old ways would've gone to shut the window before doing the same, but now her reaction was to go down and investigate somewhat. A likely scenario would be a midnight snack and paranoia and a positively embarrassing lecture from those awake.
But this felt different. Kirsa was usually quieter than this. There was no real possibility of drinking since she was more trouble when sober, but Maran needed to investigate. She sat up, ran a hand through her short brown hair to even it back, and pulled the sheets away. Her feet were itching to move, and it was driving her to leave the room in haste. Something about that wind was borrowing her for a moment, and she felt nearly entranced. The air was so thick she had to get to the door.
Then she heard it, the music. It was so faint that she had to concentrate to hear it. The eerie sound carried her away from her bed, getting louder as she gained distance. Almost to the door, her feet were moving alone to match the music coming from outside. It felt as though a warm blanket was being thrown over her, comforting her and lulling her into a deep sleep. Her body seemed to be in tune to the woodwind sound, but her mind was dozing too quickly for her taste. This shouldn't have been happening. She was in control of herself, she didn't need some outside force to try and exert power. The music suddenly became louder. Her arm shot out and grabbed a coat rack outside of her door, flinging sweaters and a hat into her mother's door. The woman could sleep through a nuclear blast.
Kirsa's door was wide open, and her curtains were billowing. Maran forced herself to concentrate on the cold in the walls as she dragged herself down the stairs and towards the front door, coat rack in tow. Her grip was painful, bringing her closer to what it felt to be awake. There was the choice to make now, whether to bring a weapon to the fight or play it by ear. She wasn't without any fight in her body, a mind of her own and several years in a karate class made her able to defend herself.
A voice appeared in her head, a soothing one with such an alluring sound that she found it hard not to listen. It was too calm and it caused her a headache because no one really sounded like that. The voice was promising her peace and quiet, things she desperately wanted, things Anyone would be foolish not to want so much. Grabbing the railing to the stairwell, she felt her feet almost fall into step and take her headfirst down the stairs. Peace and quiet, a place of her own where she could live. Away from the noise of the world she lived in. It was not far, and she could go with them and they could all live happily ever after. . . Maran scoffed then, her mind focusing on her hand gripping the handrail. Her body was turning to jelly about peace and quiet, but that was exactly the problem. Everyone wanted peace and quiet, so what was so special about that? The voice got quieter as she kept thinking, the fog in her mind disappearing as she became more skeptical of the sounds coming from inside her head.
Her body was back in her control. Finally, she thought. Now, lets see if we can find something worth going after.
She made her way down the stairs and peered into the living room. No one. There was a clear view to the dining room. That meant they were either in the dining room or kitchen, where there were tools of destruction. Maran didn't want to make herself vulnerable to attack. To meet an intruder without properly having something to bring to the fighting ring would be dangerous. The music began to fade, her senses returning to her. The post in her hand was snapped in half over her knee, which hurt at first but was a fade compared to the cloudiness from just now. Was there someone in the house other than the three of them? She made her way down the stairs quietly, dodging the creaky steps and holding her breath as she ventured towards the living room.
Then she heard mumbling around the corner. Kirsa was talking to someone in the kitchen, not begging or conversing like usual—which in her case was near yelling—but answering questions in an almost cheerful disposition. Kirsa wasn't a chipper person by any means, just like her sister. Maran's ears prickled a little at the mention of her name, and there was no secret about her position now. The splintered rod in her hand served well as a weapon, and she had every intention of using it on an assailant.
"She's overprotective, violent, and strong." Kirsa's voice. It didn't sound like her at all, more chipper and automatic, but the tone was not really unmistakable. When you lived with someone long enough, some things were automatic. Her hand clenched around the pole and she heard a male voice, accompanied by the returning music. This time it was louder than before, as though trying to convince her to fall back asleep. At first she thought it was a good idea, the sleep so calming it was sickening. It was a mellow light in the black. . . Then she heard her sister giggle. He giggled as well. His shrill sound pierced her eardrums, deadening the eerie tune again. Never again, she promised herself.
"She is a stubborn one," the male voice said again. He had an accent, possibly German, and why he was in her living room, Maran wasn't sure she'd find out right away and enjoy the answer if she did. "We'll have to bring her in to say hello." The music stopped altogether, but there was the opening of a drawer. Someone was going for something sharp. Crap, crap, crap. Maran's heart sped up and her grip loosened on instinct. She needed to get this one right. She also hoped that Kirsa wasn't going to let someone hurt either of them.
She just needed to stay completely quiet and strike when the opportunity was best. Then a voice whispered to her. "Psst. Who are we waiting for?" Maran tensed and saw spots. Turning, she found the broken coat rack gone from her hand and missing completely while staring into the face of a young man, quite a bit shorter than her. At five-foot-nine, Maran towered over many of her classmates and it helped with intimidation at times. The man was about four-foot-nine, and he carried something at his side. It looked like a recorder, but it looked so old. He wore a green shirt and tights, a belt holding his clothes up. Something told her he didn't belong from this region or even time, his clothes suggested. It worried her.
"Are you the sister?" His accent, so thick, was like an ice cube down her back. Her nails were digging into her palms, trying to grab onto the pole again that wasn't there. "I took away your little toy as good little girls don't play with sharp objects."
"Who are you?" Her voice cracked, it was so dry. The man grinned so wide his teeth glinted. His teeth were sharp enough to tear through leather, and that scared Maran. Many people were scared off by threats, idle or not. Maran's fears were based more on actual experience. Sharp things cut deep, and she'd been torn into before. The man looked so sure of himself that he could cut into her as well.
"Call me Hamelin. I'll be taking your sister. You're too old, a giant I'm afraid, but the journey specifically states that no giants are to be admitted."
"I'm not a giant. There are a lot of tall kids around. As I recall, you weren't able to hold onto me, not the other way around." There. The slight sneer and unwavering smugness he bore into her was moved just a bit.
"Either way, you're not a child by far, giant." The name he'd given her spiked her anger the slightest bit, driving away some of her fear. For a moment she could feel the weight of the post in her hand. She hadn't been aware of a cloudiness fogging her vision as she stood facing him. Her memory didn't feel like it was all there. Maran could hear her sister creaking up behind her, and turned to catch the hand sailing down to her soldier before it reached her. Kirsa had a knife and Maran had nothing. Thankfully Kirsa was also shorter and though she had a good right hook, she was no match for her older sister. Maran's eyes went wide as saucers when she spotted the look in those once dull eyes. They were green with excitement in the glow of the outside lamplight as she tried to push the knife down with incredible strength. The eldest of the two ducked under her sister's arm and twisted it back behind her, removing the blade from her hand. Maran had no idea what happened to her sister, whether she was in on this psycho's game or if she was hypnotized. She'd hurt the kid if she had to, but only with the intent of knocking her unconscious.
"And neither is my sister. What do you want?"
"A short time ago there was an infestation and I went unpaid."
"It's called an invoice."
"All debts are promises."
"Did you get shorted, then, Mister Hamelin?" He smiled again.
"In a manner of speaking, yes, so I'm taking my dues." Maran was confused. What dues could he possibly want that he'd have to entrance children to get them? She stared at him as though trying to step away and sweep the strange sense of familiarity into something discernable. It sounded somewhat familiar and it was on the tip of her tongue. Then it wasn't. The cloudiness came back and fought for some control over the thought process, taking her immediate line of thinking away. "As I said before, go back to sleep, giant."
He brought the flute to his lips and began to play. She didn't want to feel vulnerable again, and she knew what was coming.
Deities
A brisk wind, chill from the night, began its decent into dawn with one last caress over the grassy hills and plains. With a determination unseen by the human eye the fierce current blew, dancing and twisting as waves crashed upon the ocean front. With it were carried leaves, turning, rising and falling, untamed by invisible threads which seemed to draw from the Earth itself.
The air was salty, fresh on the ground as blades of grass worshiped with trembling chorus. The earth swayed. Shoreline approaching, leaves of gold and red swirled helplessly in the current only to be beckoned into a tight vortex. The Sun rose and in the glow shimmered the ghost of a figure, the leaves reflecting the sunlight with each passing second.
An undeniably feminine silhouette walked towards a precipice overlooking the ocean, dawn approaching within the half hour. With the brisk and chill breeze, Her body seemed to float over the dewy grass as morning approached. Time moved.
Grasshoppers had fallen silent hours ago, a soft symphony of nature to ease her mind. Through the silence she noted a stillness she'd not heard in ages.
Her gown fluttered in the wind. As though leaves had been embedded onto the hem and bodice, they clung to her form, brought color to her somewhat dull attire. She'd change it if the weather had been a little nicer in the southern hemisphere. Her fall colors always peaked out at the oddest times, her skin ever-changing. Despite the fact that she was in Spring weather of the East Coast, she was lacking the colors brought on by Spring, and was currently sporting browns, gold, red, and dark green. A few things remained, some dark butterflies that decided to latch onto her in order to travel north. They would live but turn with her in shades, mostly because she was ever changing and never aging.
Not physically, at least.
She was supposed to meet with Adrian in the evening. He'd asked for her to meet him privately and mentioned he had something important to tell her. Her stomach fluttered. How she came to love him, she will never know. All she knew was she was nearly head over heels in love with the Time Guardian. Perhaps she enjoyed his presence because of his control and gracefulness, but it was certain that she was the best thing in his life.
Although recently he'd been acting strange, disappearing from dinners at random times and showing up with artifacts. Usually he stuck to watching past events or pretending that he couldn't watch everything unfold while knowing the outcome already.
The guy was a jerk when at the movies, but everyone had their traits. He was responsible to say the least when it came to his job. He'd never been swayed in his time, at least that's what she'd been told. Why she had doubts now of all times she wasn't so sure. The wind felt different this morning. There were few moments when this was a sign of natural foreboding, and each occurrence left her emotionally distraught.
Why she thought so much on the topic of his professional manner always baffled her. However, it was smart to question when things were too good to be true. She would never have questioned if he hadn't made some strange decisions in the past few weeks. Her heart was all but his to hold but he didn't seem as committed as she was.
The winds were changing. She could feel it and was forced to act upon it. Time was grim.
A raven hopped up from behind her and she smiled, shaken from her reverie. "Jack, I see you've found me. Tell Frey I will be arriving shortly. Traveling in this world is hard without the right equipment. However, before you take flight, I request a boon from you. Seek me out should I suddenly become detained this week. I feel ill this morn. Many thanks, friend." She caressed Jack's feathers and he departed. The clouds churned as she stood there, and in her hand appeared a hat, a fedora. Dusting it off, her skin began to maintain a steady color. The magick within the object was strong, and on her head it went. Even the hat felt funny today. She shrugged it off as she continued her journey on foot to the bus station.
Her eyes looked out into the morning, ready for the day to begin. She smiled. This part never got boring. "Call me. . . "
"Lois, what was your distress? I didn't think you the paranoid type," said Frey. The woman in black and red took a bite from her burrito and continued walking with her autumn-clad friend. "Even Jack appeared concerned." The wind almost blew their hats across the food court, which could've blown their entire cover. The clouds were building, too. They were looking at a thunderstorm in the next few hours thanks to Miss Sunshine. Lois brushed a butterfly off her dress, the third one today, and sighed. Thinking back to her sudden change in appetite for beautiful weather, she realized her logic had won over. "Adrian has been so sweet these past weeks, and I feel a lack of concern right now. Logically, I would have been even the tiniest bit suspicious, but right now I feel so light."
"Jack mentioned some illness when he'd arrived. Perhaps he is planning something a little more permanent?" Lois looked up for a minute, as though something had occurred to her, but she shook it off.
"Nonsense. Adrian has control over time, what would he desire the weather?"
"Trust me, he has reason to want them. He's selfish like that. Having the power to harbor Time but not the control to change everything. He is just the Guardian, but he can't change anything. But just because he could have it, doesn't mean he would have the power to control it." Lois knew she was right. Even if Adrian wanted to control the weather, he didn't have the patience or the physical prowess to do any real damage. How she ended up liking a guy like him she would never know. These days she could easily conjure up a tornado that hit the scale at about four without making herself fatigued, but when she started out she could barely conjure a dust devil let alone an F4. Adrian had to use a different method to control time, therefore his powers would've been for moot if he actually succeeded.
She honestly could care less if he was after her. "That's why I prefer to keep everything simple. He could never control them even if he tried, and that's no exaggeration."
"I'm glad I stay out of relationships. I make it a point not to mix business with pleasure." Lois closed her eyes and laughed. Her voice carried and everyone seemed to fall into a daze for a second, as though her sound was a dream. The hats only filtered so much, so the utmost care was needed. Their disguises were bland but fair, the most important part being they could possess objects and tend to their worldly needs.
"How is Lucy? Still livid as ever?"
"He's out of his Hawaiian phase and now acting as the businessman everyone fears. His sense of humor is waning, though. Trade agreements this year, after all. I was lucky to get this time to shop, but he owed me." They fell quiet. Business was often the topic at hand, but they found their way around it to make it entertaining. "Once again, he's asking for 75/25, but it'll end up 60/40 just like last time and the time before that. He's a terrible finagler until someone asks for his help." Frey picked up a hair dryer and checked out the settings. Lois scoffed at the absurd quality of the machine.
"Hun, I could conjure a breeze that would tickle your spine and dry your hair for you."
"His Excellency wouldn't appreciate the favors you were doing me otherwise he would demand you do them for him as well. I'm better off just buying another one and charging him full price."
"I never understood what he was going for, 75/25. It must be a joke."
"He never fails to ask for that number, but I think he's just determined to keep most of them. He can never get over 60 percent." Frey didn't seemed phased by this. The Lord of Darkness getting over 50 percent anyway was a frightening but fair number, but there were things to factor into that number. The contract stated that the percentage of people they agreed on were the ones touched by either party. No prying into the business of the other party was allowed, and usually there was no problem in how they ended up so long as the numbers were right. Frey was calmer these days about such matters, and Lois knew it was just business.
Her contract was with the industrial world. With which company was she under contract? All of them. Since she began work, she'd been called upon to stop acting out against man's devices through the network. She would take out a small town for drilling into her kind and defenseless Earth for what they called "natural resources." She would drown a city that chose to exploit her resources over using the most reliable source of power-the Sun. After a few tries to destroy the balance of man over nature, she was forced to sign a contract with a band of mortals and gods. She was a deity. She had no use for contracts. If that were the case, then she wouldn't have needed to use these hats to get around on this plane.
But with the contracts came a level of rebellion, spurred by the masses and defended by those who lived solely on her. She almost despised them more, but appreciated those who treated her planet with respect instead of spite. The Wiccans had to be her favorite beings by far. They kept to themselves and enjoyed a lovely cup of tea every now and then. They were mellow when they came face to face with a deity.
"Lois, were you planning on hating my choice in appliances any time?"
"Just reminiscing, dear, no need to worry. I fear someone may be trying to disturb my realm this day and want to be on my best behavior when it happens. My contract was just renewed a couple of years ago. They were a snooty bunch and it made a connection somewhere down the line. I would hate to be me right now, who has to deal with the gods of civilized times. The new batch of mortals has sprouted from the ashes of their fathers.
Even if one survived, the contract remained in tact. The begin planning the next one for me to sign. I fear something bad may happen if I didn't real the contract completely this time. They added oil companies to the side, which was callous of them. Makes me wonder if they hid anything else in the manuscript."
"They've got their eyes on you, don't they. At least His Excellency has a bad reputation to keep up with, despite that three decade Hawaiian phase. Sandals, floral patterns, it was hard to keep his image fire and brimstone, but he managed to strike fear into everyone beside that. All it took was one laughing man to straighten the rest of the Underworld out."
Lois giggled. "You've been his secretary for how long? Four centuries?"
"Four and ten. It has not been easy. And his advances are borderline pathetic."
"Advances? You mean he hasn't been able to take you into his bed?"
"Trust me when I say in my years he has not once even forced me to join him."
"You've resisted the Pride Lord all this time? I've only heard of some of his exploits, but it must be hard to turn him down either way."
"He's a kitten, hun, don't forget that. Besides, I didn't value my body when I had it. Prostitution and drugs wore my body down and I regained all I had after I died. I made him laugh when I first told him I wouldn't become what I had before."
Lois thought about Adrian, how he'd been very patient. He knew time had to pass before she'd trust him like that, and fought the urge to be confusing when things needn't be confusing. Mortal or Deity, no difference in how either thought. Man could be more insightful than Deity, and Deities could be more so fickle as well. It was a spin of the dice at that point.
Adrian was sweet when he wasn't trying to be devious, she thought. Ever since she had put her hat on this morning, she'd been walking around and traveling the new way. Old-fashioned was flying around with trails of dust or glitter behind her. Sparkly. She almost missed the old ways, but then she remembered her first milkshake. That was when she stopped questioning the realm she was in.
Speaking of realms, Lois hadn't felt that connected with hers since she put on her hat this morning, and in thinking this, she turned to Frey. "I'm going to check to see if things are all right on my side. I'll be right back." Lois disappeared into the nearest bathroom and checked the stalls for feet. She didn't need anyone peeking in when she decided to return to her ever-changing form. It frightened more than one person on occasion, which was something she'd rather not repeat as far as experiences went. It was her usual several hour checkup, just in case she missed something. Frey did the same thing on the five hour mark, but all she had was a nosy boss to deal with.
Lois removed her hat, allowing the ever-changing colors to flush her skin and warm her body from the cold she'd been feeling on the back burner. Her hair was dryer with the Fall Season in the Southern Hemisphere, but she needed a little of her power to keep her warm. The Earth was getting colder under her feet, she never seemed to get warm, mostly because she was unable to use her powers to her own benefit. She was never charitable to herself, hadn't taken time to think about her needs first.
With her hair down to her waist, turning from brown to auburn to blonde to red.
She never could have black, just the darkest blue closest to dawn, but during the Fall Season she was graced with every color of the bold rainbow. She enjoyed the maroon almost as much as the forest green, but not so much the platinum blonde or near black.
The world was spinning just a little too fast for her. There was trouble stirring in this oblivious city. It was as though time was begging for her attention. Why would he want to take care of her, or want her power in any case? She should've been more careful somewhere along the line. She was listening to the whispers carried by the butterflies as they told her what the pit of her stomach already knew.
Someone was destroying her beautiful world. Someone close enough to hit in all the right places. This made Lois furious. Tree by tree, drill by drill, all of it was coming at her full force, and her knees buckled from the pressure. There was someone trying to get into her mind, someone close enough to cause her realm trouble. No one dredged into her realm and got away with it, she thought, sweat forming on her forehead. The pain was new at the moment, something she'd luckily avoided in her time. Running through her nerves, sensitizing every last one to the point that she wasn't going to be able to walk until they all stopped. It wasn't completely foreign to her, just out of the norm at this point in her life. It was her own folly that got her where she was. Her own heart.
Taking the time to lower herself to the ground, Lois decided to breathe in a few times, her chest hurting with every inhale. Tears formed in her eyes, she was sure she wouldn't be able to leave for at least five minutes after it stopped. So cold. . . "Hhuh. . . hhuh. . . " Her eyes were clenched and she was warm. She drew into the power of the Earth's core to warm herself, deciding that it was imperative to use it this once to help herself back onto her feet and cleanse her face. The water reached out for her, wanting to bathe her. She'd hardly asked anyone for any boon, never drew upon her surroundings for extra strength. Being that generous to the world made the world strive to make it the most comfortable for her was the most reassuring. She embraced the entity, the nymph's gentle touch, until she felt rejuvenated. That was her power.
"Thank you, my lovelies, be at thy rest now, I may call on you again."
Adrian was tired of her contentment to stay in one place, probably thought she could do so much with her power, but never tried. He wanted to put her power to work for him, and she resisted. She would continue to resist. She placed her hat on her head, feeling the shiver down her spine as the color left her body. The lack of color was cold, but her control was more important. Her reflection stared back at her. She needed to take care of herself should she become weaker in the next day. Perhaps this was the spur she needed to make things right. She finished washing her face, and dried her hands by waving them once through the air. Like warm towels against her skin.
She turned to leave the bathroom, and walked through the department store. The crowd was larger today, one of the reasons they were in need of disguise. There was something she loved about walking among the mortals, and that was that everyone had their own style. Much like the deities of old, Dionysus set the record for alcohol, and now St. Patrick set the record for most drinks in a single day. No one has heard him shut up since. It was the same with figures in this world. Celebrated political figures and celebrities walked the streets in disguises in order to avoid the masses.
She was Mother Nature, and no one thought of a bigger bitch. That was how people remembered her. She smiled as a wave of mischief swept over her. She didn't even do anything, just minded her own business while the rest of the world gave her credit for things that happened naturally. Yes, there were times when her attitude caused some problems, but these days she was pretty much mellow. A little restless, which is when she arranged for a friend to meet her on the mortal realm for lunch and shopping.
They never bought anything, who could possibly need anything of that sort?
Oh right, Frey and her absurd hair dryer. What a strange coincidence that she lived below the Earth's surface and had need for a machine made by man? Considering the weather conditions from whence she hailed, there had to be something that fueled her attitude. It wasn't too bad, from what she heard. Just a little hot, but other than that, it was pretty loud with the bars and fights breaking out. Honestly, it was no different than the night life in the mortal realm. Men just turned into monsters of their own thinking—people, they changed daily according to their beliefs in what made bad men.
But still, a hair dryer? It had to be a ploy to get out of the realm for some good-natured mischief.
She left the bathroom with a fresh trail of tan smoke behind her. She was happy to conform to the law of the fedora, only because the favors were less than reputable when she was found out by some imp who'd been trailing her since her teens. She'd be damned if she did any favors for anyone less than a high priestess these days. Mankind would never change in that aspect. They would always be wondering if there was another way, a shortcut to anyplace worth going. She always told the one who'd found her that their guess was as good as hers, but they were stuck in any case. Which was quite true. She just didn't mind keeping that detail to herself. Her time was longer than theirs.
When she approached her friend, Frey was getting a latté from a chain store. It must've tasted like Heaven after living in Hell. Hell made shitty coffee.
"Lois, what ails?" Frey handed Lois her favorite, hot chocolate. She was still cold and the liquid sweet made her tongue tingle. The ancients knew how to make chocolate, but this was close—cacao beans raw weren't too bad still, the additives made things unbearably addictive.
"A lack of tribute for old society. I tried to see the use in these pieces of technology, but every time there's something useful placed in the world, I hear about it first. It's draining, that's for damn sure. Every man looking for an easy way out, makes me mad. I'm the one who should be begging for an escape."
"You talk about making things easier, why not just conjure something for yourself every once in awhile? It's funny that you talk about doing one thing, then do something completely different."
"Only when it comes to myself. I can't spoil myself like that otherwise I'll get sloppy. My life is hard enough to deal with outside of these potential shortcuts. Sticking to the rules seems to suit me just fine."
"You might have to break the rules in order to rescue yourself if the shit hits the fan. It'd be your own fault if you let someone take your gift." Lois said nothing. She'd been feeling this for a few weeks, as mentioned earlier. She was grim that this happened, but she was ready for some of it. Time, after all, waited for no one, not even Adrian. A rush like none other crept into her stomach. She was smiling, and she hardly smiled. That was a gift she gave to very, very few.
"That feeling you just got, sister," Frey said. She'd grown her own set of horns.
"That's excitement. Nothing better than danger to bring out the deity in all of us."
"Don't try to provoke me, hun, you're the one with your afterlife virginity still in tact. I just need someone to watch me if I end up losing my cool."
"Which is appropriate, after all. You are a force to be reckoned with and the circumstances are right." Lois waited for the kicker they both knew was coming.
"However, the code would disagree with you. No one would take the word of a frustrated woman who just broke up with her ex."
"And here I was thinking we were still deities. My record would hold up better than his in any court. The only problem is that we aren't held up by any court here, and I'd miss out on my chance to humiliate him internationally instead of just on one plane. He'll come looking for me soon, try to corner me."
"Says the woman who talks to butterflies in the lavatory." It would end up in a bathroom, too. None of these fights ever took place in any dignified place, not since the weather channel began airing. Changes in temp and patterns were noticed. She'd not been looking for easier ways to take care of enemies, she thought the lines were clear since Murphy's Laws were written down. Nothing was sacred anymore, not even battle fields. Lois sighed, having lost her opportunity to fight long ago with her pacifistic ways. She never went to them, either, it was an opportunity to gamble among gods, and she was usually nowhere to be found in those times.
"I'll not have this going on tomorrow, Frey." And that was the end of that conversation. Frey was looking especially liberated with her finished latté, considering she only got one about once every ten years if she were lucky. The rest of the time, she had to imagine she was drinking coffee, when she was actually drinking the sludge scraped off the bottom of a two-hour old pot of joe from the employee lounge. It was the living she knew she'd rather have, so she let it go.
Possibly one of the most daring of the group but not the most laid back, Frey was chosen to be Lucifer's personal assistant. Before she was given this position, she was a meek woman who'd been thrown into the depths of what she believed was Hell from within. She'd been beaten, bruised, killed, then brought back to somewhat alive and kicking. She decided to become a little more responsible with her afterlife, and in doing this, she resisted any firm stances on how things were to be run. A side woman with no agenda, just what the guy wanted. She arranged meetings with potentials, monitored the surveillance system, and tended to the needs of her employer. Within reason, of course.
She was feared almost as much as Lucy himself, with her business apparel and tight bun atop her head. A clipboard in one hand, a cellphone in another, and a watch that had every timezone on its face. Not that she needed it after this long, but she'd request a location and have the appropriate time there. Most of the time, they were similar places, but His Excellency threw a wrench into her system once in a lunar eclipse.
Their day was winding down. Frey had her silly contraption, Lois had Adrian to deal with. Deities often stayed out of the business of other deities, so there was no confusion as to whom was causing her trouble. She'd been dating Adrian for a blip of time, cutting it off this early was something she wasn't terribly broken up about it. He was cute, young in a way. That was what he had, but he was a thief from the beginning.
Overlooking that small detail was kind of her.
Now she had to deal with his deception.
There, in the third stall from the end, was a pair of peculiar shoes. They were Adrian's shoes, and he had much to atone for. She'd caught him finally. He'd put a spell on her hat to make her suspicion disappear. Fortunately, her suspicions weren't based on something he was hiding, she just never learned to trust him. Turning, she walked back to the door only to find the door jammed somehow. She'd been set up. She feigned fear.
"Lois, darling, what is your hurry?"
"Adrian." Sure enough, the Time Guardian made himself known and walked to the sink. Lois had been right to distrust him as soon as she smelled trouble, and now she needed to take her leave. This was going to work out perfectly. She reached for her hat, but he stopped her. He was in front of her now. His hand came down from her head and he touched her nose as a parent would a child.
"I wouldn't do that. This room would surely react negatively to your change in form, as I'm sure you're aware. The magic is much too strong for what you're wanting to do. Destroying yourself is something neither of us desire."
"What deception is this, Adrian, that you can attempt to control me."
"Just want your power, sweetheart." He wanted her power, but he couldn't handle even the tiniest fraction of it. For a second, Lois pictured the world in chaos, somewhat like when she lost her cool and decimated a tiny shed in the Ukraine with lightning. Her mind didn't feel any change, though. She was ready to stop his threat.
"You'd never harness it." Her hat. She could usually control the weather with her disguise on. However, her powers were harnessed a bit to hold onto the plane. What was he getting at? She reached for her hat and realized he was watching not her, but her hand. His face was a little apprehensive. He didn't want her to remove her hat. In that case. . . she thought. With a smirk, she removed the hat, allowing the warmth to spread from her head to her toes. Her cheeks flushed, she was honestly a Goddess in its purest form. Her skin began to change tones, and Adrian became a little dazed. She was, without a doubt, in her most precious and invincible form. Even if Adrian had wanted to take her power, he would be unable to in this form.
"I. . . " Adrian's mouth fell open.
Adrian, if you were as in love as I was at one point, you would've known I'd be my own person, I wouldn't allow my work to play backseat to my relationship. Perhaps sidesaddle, but never backseat. Time, however. . . " The air dryer was behind her. The continual dramatic coincidence was upon her when she decided to use one to save her own skin. Oh spite, she drawled, poising her elbow over the activation nob.
"I don't love you. Believe me when I say you are one of the most difficult women to impress when I want something from you." He was begging? How unlike the men of old.
"I know this, dear. That's why I'm no longer pining for you as I once did. It's not nice to fool Mother Nature, and so I bid you adieu. You are no longer responsible for your power after today as punishment for destroying" It began projecting air onto her hand and she knew she had a moment for this to make the desired effect. She whispered a few words of encouragement, anyone could do that, but she was the only one with the language of the wind.
She stepped away from the wall an inch. The air swerved around her form, lifting her arms as pets would, and shot forward in a whirlwind. He was taken aback by the attack and was forced against the far wall, flat on his back. She was unaffected. Her mind recalled the words she needed to end this. It would be short and sweet.
"I did love you, Lois." She approached him as the wind held him down, and with the pressure she was exerting on him, she was in complete control of herself and him. He was not being crushed, merely held back so she could talk to him.
"You were trying to lure me into a sense of false security so you could take my abilities, but as you can see, I'm more capable of handling them than you are. You are better off walking away from this. If you resist, I will remove your burden and find someone more capable of handling them than you."
"You're not going to, though."
"I will if I have to. Taking anothers' ability is punishable-"
"I know, but you aren't using yours."
"I respect my abilities. They respect me in return. You, however, have forgotten yourself more than once." She didn't have long, machines were shifty like that. "Choose now."
"I still, and always will, want to use your powers to the point where they are no longer yours. To the point of abuse." Lois sighed. Those were the words. This might've been harder for her to face after all. Adrian had been a sweetheart to her, showered her with love and she had done the same. They knew they could live forever, but love forever might have only depended on their ability to tolerate one another for all eternity. There was only a handful of couples who had accomplished this, and they were probably the only tame ones of the masses of them. "Destroy me, if you can. I'll take a part of you with me."
"You had more when I loved you." The words left her mouth, words of a different language, old tongue. His eyes strained back into his sockets and the wind broke around them. She was sorry to have broken their bond, but he wasn't happy with his gift. The only thing she could do was relieve him of it. He would not die, just be reborn as someone new, perhaps the next Time Guardian, any could tell. Sometimes it was a matter of time spent on the mortal realm to remind him of his actions and make him a better person. His powers would go to her, and she would have to transfer the power to another with the mindset for it until they could extract it into someone more responsible. There were backups for this, and in a few years, he would be given a chance if he proved worthy.
And he disappeared in a wisp of dark blue dust on the wind. Lois breathed in the smoke and coughed. The pressure was back and she grabbed onto a bathroom stall to keep steady. Her lungs, ready to burst, sent spikes of pain through her body. Spasms of fear and uncertainty shot through her but the decision was clear. She needed help to get back. As she lost all feeling in her arms, a pair of feminine arms caught her before she fell. Darkness.
Lois stood on the precipice with arms outstretched, overlooking the ocean at near sunrise. The air was moist with the night's frost soon to be turned to dew in the spring morning while the brisk chill fought to remain the strongest element in her presence. Nighttime was her time to settle down and collect her thoughts. The frost from the night would wear soon, as all things had a place in time.
She felt betrayed, but she would live. The darkness wasn't her favorite place to be at the time, and she was cold. The Earth would keep moving. Time was with a temporary Guardian, and they were contemplating the fate of the one reborn. Samuel Terrace, South Carolina, age fourteen. Born into a family recommended by the majority of neutral deities and in good understanding with their views concerning responsibilities that mattered the most to the council.
Her position was in question as well, but their evidence was vast against the Time Guardian and it was her own fault for trusting him enough to get herself into such trouble. She took full responsibility for her actions and they checked her records for any marring that would effect their decision. They found none.
Though she was now among her element, she felt a tiniest bit alone. She'd never asked for help from her elements. They knew this to be a kindness, and treated her well throughout the conflict. She was strong and willing to move on, and that was enough for now.
Lois smiled for the first time since she left him behind, and remembered that time waited for no one.
Fin.
The air was salty, fresh on the ground as blades of grass worshiped with trembling chorus. The earth swayed. Shoreline approaching, leaves of gold and red swirled helplessly in the current only to be beckoned into a tight vortex. The Sun rose and in the glow shimmered the ghost of a figure, the leaves reflecting the sunlight with each passing second.
An undeniably feminine silhouette walked towards a precipice overlooking the ocean, dawn approaching within the half hour. With the brisk and chill breeze, Her body seemed to float over the dewy grass as morning approached. Time moved.
Grasshoppers had fallen silent hours ago, a soft symphony of nature to ease her mind. Through the silence she noted a stillness she'd not heard in ages.
Her gown fluttered in the wind. As though leaves had been embedded onto the hem and bodice, they clung to her form, brought color to her somewhat dull attire. She'd change it if the weather had been a little nicer in the southern hemisphere. Her fall colors always peaked out at the oddest times, her skin ever-changing. Despite the fact that she was in Spring weather of the East Coast, she was lacking the colors brought on by Spring, and was currently sporting browns, gold, red, and dark green. A few things remained, some dark butterflies that decided to latch onto her in order to travel north. They would live but turn with her in shades, mostly because she was ever changing and never aging.
Not physically, at least.
She was supposed to meet with Adrian in the evening. He'd asked for her to meet him privately and mentioned he had something important to tell her. Her stomach fluttered. How she came to love him, she will never know. All she knew was she was nearly head over heels in love with the Time Guardian. Perhaps she enjoyed his presence because of his control and gracefulness, but it was certain that she was the best thing in his life.
Although recently he'd been acting strange, disappearing from dinners at random times and showing up with artifacts. Usually he stuck to watching past events or pretending that he couldn't watch everything unfold while knowing the outcome already.
The guy was a jerk when at the movies, but everyone had their traits. He was responsible to say the least when it came to his job. He'd never been swayed in his time, at least that's what she'd been told. Why she had doubts now of all times she wasn't so sure. The wind felt different this morning. There were few moments when this was a sign of natural foreboding, and each occurrence left her emotionally distraught.
Why she thought so much on the topic of his professional manner always baffled her. However, it was smart to question when things were too good to be true. She would never have questioned if he hadn't made some strange decisions in the past few weeks. Her heart was all but his to hold but he didn't seem as committed as she was.
The winds were changing. She could feel it and was forced to act upon it. Time was grim.
A raven hopped up from behind her and she smiled, shaken from her reverie. "Jack, I see you've found me. Tell Frey I will be arriving shortly. Traveling in this world is hard without the right equipment. However, before you take flight, I request a boon from you. Seek me out should I suddenly become detained this week. I feel ill this morn. Many thanks, friend." She caressed Jack's feathers and he departed. The clouds churned as she stood there, and in her hand appeared a hat, a fedora. Dusting it off, her skin began to maintain a steady color. The magick within the object was strong, and on her head it went. Even the hat felt funny today. She shrugged it off as she continued her journey on foot to the bus station.
Her eyes looked out into the morning, ready for the day to begin. She smiled. This part never got boring. "Call me. . . "
"Lois, what was your distress? I didn't think you the paranoid type," said Frey. The woman in black and red took a bite from her burrito and continued walking with her autumn-clad friend. "Even Jack appeared concerned." The wind almost blew their hats across the food court, which could've blown their entire cover. The clouds were building, too. They were looking at a thunderstorm in the next few hours thanks to Miss Sunshine. Lois brushed a butterfly off her dress, the third one today, and sighed. Thinking back to her sudden change in appetite for beautiful weather, she realized her logic had won over. "Adrian has been so sweet these past weeks, and I feel a lack of concern right now. Logically, I would have been even the tiniest bit suspicious, but right now I feel so light."
"Jack mentioned some illness when he'd arrived. Perhaps he is planning something a little more permanent?" Lois looked up for a minute, as though something had occurred to her, but she shook it off.
"Nonsense. Adrian has control over time, what would he desire the weather?"
"Trust me, he has reason to want them. He's selfish like that. Having the power to harbor Time but not the control to change everything. He is just the Guardian, but he can't change anything. But just because he could have it, doesn't mean he would have the power to control it." Lois knew she was right. Even if Adrian wanted to control the weather, he didn't have the patience or the physical prowess to do any real damage. How she ended up liking a guy like him she would never know. These days she could easily conjure up a tornado that hit the scale at about four without making herself fatigued, but when she started out she could barely conjure a dust devil let alone an F4. Adrian had to use a different method to control time, therefore his powers would've been for moot if he actually succeeded.
She honestly could care less if he was after her. "That's why I prefer to keep everything simple. He could never control them even if he tried, and that's no exaggeration."
"I'm glad I stay out of relationships. I make it a point not to mix business with pleasure." Lois closed her eyes and laughed. Her voice carried and everyone seemed to fall into a daze for a second, as though her sound was a dream. The hats only filtered so much, so the utmost care was needed. Their disguises were bland but fair, the most important part being they could possess objects and tend to their worldly needs.
"How is Lucy? Still livid as ever?"
"He's out of his Hawaiian phase and now acting as the businessman everyone fears. His sense of humor is waning, though. Trade agreements this year, after all. I was lucky to get this time to shop, but he owed me." They fell quiet. Business was often the topic at hand, but they found their way around it to make it entertaining. "Once again, he's asking for 75/25, but it'll end up 60/40 just like last time and the time before that. He's a terrible finagler until someone asks for his help." Frey picked up a hair dryer and checked out the settings. Lois scoffed at the absurd quality of the machine.
"Hun, I could conjure a breeze that would tickle your spine and dry your hair for you."
"His Excellency wouldn't appreciate the favors you were doing me otherwise he would demand you do them for him as well. I'm better off just buying another one and charging him full price."
"I never understood what he was going for, 75/25. It must be a joke."
"He never fails to ask for that number, but I think he's just determined to keep most of them. He can never get over 60 percent." Frey didn't seemed phased by this. The Lord of Darkness getting over 50 percent anyway was a frightening but fair number, but there were things to factor into that number. The contract stated that the percentage of people they agreed on were the ones touched by either party. No prying into the business of the other party was allowed, and usually there was no problem in how they ended up so long as the numbers were right. Frey was calmer these days about such matters, and Lois knew it was just business.
Her contract was with the industrial world. With which company was she under contract? All of them. Since she began work, she'd been called upon to stop acting out against man's devices through the network. She would take out a small town for drilling into her kind and defenseless Earth for what they called "natural resources." She would drown a city that chose to exploit her resources over using the most reliable source of power-the Sun. After a few tries to destroy the balance of man over nature, she was forced to sign a contract with a band of mortals and gods. She was a deity. She had no use for contracts. If that were the case, then she wouldn't have needed to use these hats to get around on this plane.
But with the contracts came a level of rebellion, spurred by the masses and defended by those who lived solely on her. She almost despised them more, but appreciated those who treated her planet with respect instead of spite. The Wiccans had to be her favorite beings by far. They kept to themselves and enjoyed a lovely cup of tea every now and then. They were mellow when they came face to face with a deity.
"Lois, were you planning on hating my choice in appliances any time?"
"Just reminiscing, dear, no need to worry. I fear someone may be trying to disturb my realm this day and want to be on my best behavior when it happens. My contract was just renewed a couple of years ago. They were a snooty bunch and it made a connection somewhere down the line. I would hate to be me right now, who has to deal with the gods of civilized times. The new batch of mortals has sprouted from the ashes of their fathers.
Even if one survived, the contract remained in tact. The begin planning the next one for me to sign. I fear something bad may happen if I didn't real the contract completely this time. They added oil companies to the side, which was callous of them. Makes me wonder if they hid anything else in the manuscript."
"They've got their eyes on you, don't they. At least His Excellency has a bad reputation to keep up with, despite that three decade Hawaiian phase. Sandals, floral patterns, it was hard to keep his image fire and brimstone, but he managed to strike fear into everyone beside that. All it took was one laughing man to straighten the rest of the Underworld out."
Lois giggled. "You've been his secretary for how long? Four centuries?"
"Four and ten. It has not been easy. And his advances are borderline pathetic."
"Advances? You mean he hasn't been able to take you into his bed?"
"Trust me when I say in my years he has not once even forced me to join him."
"You've resisted the Pride Lord all this time? I've only heard of some of his exploits, but it must be hard to turn him down either way."
"He's a kitten, hun, don't forget that. Besides, I didn't value my body when I had it. Prostitution and drugs wore my body down and I regained all I had after I died. I made him laugh when I first told him I wouldn't become what I had before."
Lois thought about Adrian, how he'd been very patient. He knew time had to pass before she'd trust him like that, and fought the urge to be confusing when things needn't be confusing. Mortal or Deity, no difference in how either thought. Man could be more insightful than Deity, and Deities could be more so fickle as well. It was a spin of the dice at that point.
Adrian was sweet when he wasn't trying to be devious, she thought. Ever since she had put her hat on this morning, she'd been walking around and traveling the new way. Old-fashioned was flying around with trails of dust or glitter behind her. Sparkly. She almost missed the old ways, but then she remembered her first milkshake. That was when she stopped questioning the realm she was in.
Speaking of realms, Lois hadn't felt that connected with hers since she put on her hat this morning, and in thinking this, she turned to Frey. "I'm going to check to see if things are all right on my side. I'll be right back." Lois disappeared into the nearest bathroom and checked the stalls for feet. She didn't need anyone peeking in when she decided to return to her ever-changing form. It frightened more than one person on occasion, which was something she'd rather not repeat as far as experiences went. It was her usual several hour checkup, just in case she missed something. Frey did the same thing on the five hour mark, but all she had was a nosy boss to deal with.
Lois removed her hat, allowing the ever-changing colors to flush her skin and warm her body from the cold she'd been feeling on the back burner. Her hair was dryer with the Fall Season in the Southern Hemisphere, but she needed a little of her power to keep her warm. The Earth was getting colder under her feet, she never seemed to get warm, mostly because she was unable to use her powers to her own benefit. She was never charitable to herself, hadn't taken time to think about her needs first.
With her hair down to her waist, turning from brown to auburn to blonde to red.
She never could have black, just the darkest blue closest to dawn, but during the Fall Season she was graced with every color of the bold rainbow. She enjoyed the maroon almost as much as the forest green, but not so much the platinum blonde or near black.
The world was spinning just a little too fast for her. There was trouble stirring in this oblivious city. It was as though time was begging for her attention. Why would he want to take care of her, or want her power in any case? She should've been more careful somewhere along the line. She was listening to the whispers carried by the butterflies as they told her what the pit of her stomach already knew.
Someone was destroying her beautiful world. Someone close enough to hit in all the right places. This made Lois furious. Tree by tree, drill by drill, all of it was coming at her full force, and her knees buckled from the pressure. There was someone trying to get into her mind, someone close enough to cause her realm trouble. No one dredged into her realm and got away with it, she thought, sweat forming on her forehead. The pain was new at the moment, something she'd luckily avoided in her time. Running through her nerves, sensitizing every last one to the point that she wasn't going to be able to walk until they all stopped. It wasn't completely foreign to her, just out of the norm at this point in her life. It was her own folly that got her where she was. Her own heart.
Taking the time to lower herself to the ground, Lois decided to breathe in a few times, her chest hurting with every inhale. Tears formed in her eyes, she was sure she wouldn't be able to leave for at least five minutes after it stopped. So cold. . . "Hhuh. . . hhuh. . . " Her eyes were clenched and she was warm. She drew into the power of the Earth's core to warm herself, deciding that it was imperative to use it this once to help herself back onto her feet and cleanse her face. The water reached out for her, wanting to bathe her. She'd hardly asked anyone for any boon, never drew upon her surroundings for extra strength. Being that generous to the world made the world strive to make it the most comfortable for her was the most reassuring. She embraced the entity, the nymph's gentle touch, until she felt rejuvenated. That was her power.
"Thank you, my lovelies, be at thy rest now, I may call on you again."
Adrian was tired of her contentment to stay in one place, probably thought she could do so much with her power, but never tried. He wanted to put her power to work for him, and she resisted. She would continue to resist. She placed her hat on her head, feeling the shiver down her spine as the color left her body. The lack of color was cold, but her control was more important. Her reflection stared back at her. She needed to take care of herself should she become weaker in the next day. Perhaps this was the spur she needed to make things right. She finished washing her face, and dried her hands by waving them once through the air. Like warm towels against her skin.
She turned to leave the bathroom, and walked through the department store. The crowd was larger today, one of the reasons they were in need of disguise. There was something she loved about walking among the mortals, and that was that everyone had their own style. Much like the deities of old, Dionysus set the record for alcohol, and now St. Patrick set the record for most drinks in a single day. No one has heard him shut up since. It was the same with figures in this world. Celebrated political figures and celebrities walked the streets in disguises in order to avoid the masses.
She was Mother Nature, and no one thought of a bigger bitch. That was how people remembered her. She smiled as a wave of mischief swept over her. She didn't even do anything, just minded her own business while the rest of the world gave her credit for things that happened naturally. Yes, there were times when her attitude caused some problems, but these days she was pretty much mellow. A little restless, which is when she arranged for a friend to meet her on the mortal realm for lunch and shopping.
They never bought anything, who could possibly need anything of that sort?
Oh right, Frey and her absurd hair dryer. What a strange coincidence that she lived below the Earth's surface and had need for a machine made by man? Considering the weather conditions from whence she hailed, there had to be something that fueled her attitude. It wasn't too bad, from what she heard. Just a little hot, but other than that, it was pretty loud with the bars and fights breaking out. Honestly, it was no different than the night life in the mortal realm. Men just turned into monsters of their own thinking—people, they changed daily according to their beliefs in what made bad men.
But still, a hair dryer? It had to be a ploy to get out of the realm for some good-natured mischief.
She left the bathroom with a fresh trail of tan smoke behind her. She was happy to conform to the law of the fedora, only because the favors were less than reputable when she was found out by some imp who'd been trailing her since her teens. She'd be damned if she did any favors for anyone less than a high priestess these days. Mankind would never change in that aspect. They would always be wondering if there was another way, a shortcut to anyplace worth going. She always told the one who'd found her that their guess was as good as hers, but they were stuck in any case. Which was quite true. She just didn't mind keeping that detail to herself. Her time was longer than theirs.
When she approached her friend, Frey was getting a latté from a chain store. It must've tasted like Heaven after living in Hell. Hell made shitty coffee.
"Lois, what ails?" Frey handed Lois her favorite, hot chocolate. She was still cold and the liquid sweet made her tongue tingle. The ancients knew how to make chocolate, but this was close—cacao beans raw weren't too bad still, the additives made things unbearably addictive.
"A lack of tribute for old society. I tried to see the use in these pieces of technology, but every time there's something useful placed in the world, I hear about it first. It's draining, that's for damn sure. Every man looking for an easy way out, makes me mad. I'm the one who should be begging for an escape."
"You talk about making things easier, why not just conjure something for yourself every once in awhile? It's funny that you talk about doing one thing, then do something completely different."
"Only when it comes to myself. I can't spoil myself like that otherwise I'll get sloppy. My life is hard enough to deal with outside of these potential shortcuts. Sticking to the rules seems to suit me just fine."
"You might have to break the rules in order to rescue yourself if the shit hits the fan. It'd be your own fault if you let someone take your gift." Lois said nothing. She'd been feeling this for a few weeks, as mentioned earlier. She was grim that this happened, but she was ready for some of it. Time, after all, waited for no one, not even Adrian. A rush like none other crept into her stomach. She was smiling, and she hardly smiled. That was a gift she gave to very, very few.
"That feeling you just got, sister," Frey said. She'd grown her own set of horns.
"That's excitement. Nothing better than danger to bring out the deity in all of us."
"Don't try to provoke me, hun, you're the one with your afterlife virginity still in tact. I just need someone to watch me if I end up losing my cool."
"Which is appropriate, after all. You are a force to be reckoned with and the circumstances are right." Lois waited for the kicker they both knew was coming.
"However, the code would disagree with you. No one would take the word of a frustrated woman who just broke up with her ex."
"And here I was thinking we were still deities. My record would hold up better than his in any court. The only problem is that we aren't held up by any court here, and I'd miss out on my chance to humiliate him internationally instead of just on one plane. He'll come looking for me soon, try to corner me."
"Says the woman who talks to butterflies in the lavatory." It would end up in a bathroom, too. None of these fights ever took place in any dignified place, not since the weather channel began airing. Changes in temp and patterns were noticed. She'd not been looking for easier ways to take care of enemies, she thought the lines were clear since Murphy's Laws were written down. Nothing was sacred anymore, not even battle fields. Lois sighed, having lost her opportunity to fight long ago with her pacifistic ways. She never went to them, either, it was an opportunity to gamble among gods, and she was usually nowhere to be found in those times.
"I'll not have this going on tomorrow, Frey." And that was the end of that conversation. Frey was looking especially liberated with her finished latté, considering she only got one about once every ten years if she were lucky. The rest of the time, she had to imagine she was drinking coffee, when she was actually drinking the sludge scraped off the bottom of a two-hour old pot of joe from the employee lounge. It was the living she knew she'd rather have, so she let it go.
Possibly one of the most daring of the group but not the most laid back, Frey was chosen to be Lucifer's personal assistant. Before she was given this position, she was a meek woman who'd been thrown into the depths of what she believed was Hell from within. She'd been beaten, bruised, killed, then brought back to somewhat alive and kicking. She decided to become a little more responsible with her afterlife, and in doing this, she resisted any firm stances on how things were to be run. A side woman with no agenda, just what the guy wanted. She arranged meetings with potentials, monitored the surveillance system, and tended to the needs of her employer. Within reason, of course.
She was feared almost as much as Lucy himself, with her business apparel and tight bun atop her head. A clipboard in one hand, a cellphone in another, and a watch that had every timezone on its face. Not that she needed it after this long, but she'd request a location and have the appropriate time there. Most of the time, they were similar places, but His Excellency threw a wrench into her system once in a lunar eclipse.
Their day was winding down. Frey had her silly contraption, Lois had Adrian to deal with. Deities often stayed out of the business of other deities, so there was no confusion as to whom was causing her trouble. She'd been dating Adrian for a blip of time, cutting it off this early was something she wasn't terribly broken up about it. He was cute, young in a way. That was what he had, but he was a thief from the beginning.
Overlooking that small detail was kind of her.
Now she had to deal with his deception.
There, in the third stall from the end, was a pair of peculiar shoes. They were Adrian's shoes, and he had much to atone for. She'd caught him finally. He'd put a spell on her hat to make her suspicion disappear. Fortunately, her suspicions weren't based on something he was hiding, she just never learned to trust him. Turning, she walked back to the door only to find the door jammed somehow. She'd been set up. She feigned fear.
"Lois, darling, what is your hurry?"
"Adrian." Sure enough, the Time Guardian made himself known and walked to the sink. Lois had been right to distrust him as soon as she smelled trouble, and now she needed to take her leave. This was going to work out perfectly. She reached for her hat, but he stopped her. He was in front of her now. His hand came down from her head and he touched her nose as a parent would a child.
"I wouldn't do that. This room would surely react negatively to your change in form, as I'm sure you're aware. The magic is much too strong for what you're wanting to do. Destroying yourself is something neither of us desire."
"What deception is this, Adrian, that you can attempt to control me."
"Just want your power, sweetheart." He wanted her power, but he couldn't handle even the tiniest fraction of it. For a second, Lois pictured the world in chaos, somewhat like when she lost her cool and decimated a tiny shed in the Ukraine with lightning. Her mind didn't feel any change, though. She was ready to stop his threat.
"You'd never harness it." Her hat. She could usually control the weather with her disguise on. However, her powers were harnessed a bit to hold onto the plane. What was he getting at? She reached for her hat and realized he was watching not her, but her hand. His face was a little apprehensive. He didn't want her to remove her hat. In that case. . . she thought. With a smirk, she removed the hat, allowing the warmth to spread from her head to her toes. Her cheeks flushed, she was honestly a Goddess in its purest form. Her skin began to change tones, and Adrian became a little dazed. She was, without a doubt, in her most precious and invincible form. Even if Adrian had wanted to take her power, he would be unable to in this form.
"I. . . " Adrian's mouth fell open.
Adrian, if you were as in love as I was at one point, you would've known I'd be my own person, I wouldn't allow my work to play backseat to my relationship. Perhaps sidesaddle, but never backseat. Time, however. . . " The air dryer was behind her. The continual dramatic coincidence was upon her when she decided to use one to save her own skin. Oh spite, she drawled, poising her elbow over the activation nob.
"I don't love you. Believe me when I say you are one of the most difficult women to impress when I want something from you." He was begging? How unlike the men of old.
"I know this, dear. That's why I'm no longer pining for you as I once did. It's not nice to fool Mother Nature, and so I bid you adieu. You are no longer responsible for your power after today as punishment for destroying" It began projecting air onto her hand and she knew she had a moment for this to make the desired effect. She whispered a few words of encouragement, anyone could do that, but she was the only one with the language of the wind.
She stepped away from the wall an inch. The air swerved around her form, lifting her arms as pets would, and shot forward in a whirlwind. He was taken aback by the attack and was forced against the far wall, flat on his back. She was unaffected. Her mind recalled the words she needed to end this. It would be short and sweet.
"I did love you, Lois." She approached him as the wind held him down, and with the pressure she was exerting on him, she was in complete control of herself and him. He was not being crushed, merely held back so she could talk to him.
"You were trying to lure me into a sense of false security so you could take my abilities, but as you can see, I'm more capable of handling them than you are. You are better off walking away from this. If you resist, I will remove your burden and find someone more capable of handling them than you."
"You're not going to, though."
"I will if I have to. Taking anothers' ability is punishable-"
"I know, but you aren't using yours."
"I respect my abilities. They respect me in return. You, however, have forgotten yourself more than once." She didn't have long, machines were shifty like that. "Choose now."
"I still, and always will, want to use your powers to the point where they are no longer yours. To the point of abuse." Lois sighed. Those were the words. This might've been harder for her to face after all. Adrian had been a sweetheart to her, showered her with love and she had done the same. They knew they could live forever, but love forever might have only depended on their ability to tolerate one another for all eternity. There was only a handful of couples who had accomplished this, and they were probably the only tame ones of the masses of them. "Destroy me, if you can. I'll take a part of you with me."
"You had more when I loved you." The words left her mouth, words of a different language, old tongue. His eyes strained back into his sockets and the wind broke around them. She was sorry to have broken their bond, but he wasn't happy with his gift. The only thing she could do was relieve him of it. He would not die, just be reborn as someone new, perhaps the next Time Guardian, any could tell. Sometimes it was a matter of time spent on the mortal realm to remind him of his actions and make him a better person. His powers would go to her, and she would have to transfer the power to another with the mindset for it until they could extract it into someone more responsible. There were backups for this, and in a few years, he would be given a chance if he proved worthy.
And he disappeared in a wisp of dark blue dust on the wind. Lois breathed in the smoke and coughed. The pressure was back and she grabbed onto a bathroom stall to keep steady. Her lungs, ready to burst, sent spikes of pain through her body. Spasms of fear and uncertainty shot through her but the decision was clear. She needed help to get back. As she lost all feeling in her arms, a pair of feminine arms caught her before she fell. Darkness.
Lois stood on the precipice with arms outstretched, overlooking the ocean at near sunrise. The air was moist with the night's frost soon to be turned to dew in the spring morning while the brisk chill fought to remain the strongest element in her presence. Nighttime was her time to settle down and collect her thoughts. The frost from the night would wear soon, as all things had a place in time.
She felt betrayed, but she would live. The darkness wasn't her favorite place to be at the time, and she was cold. The Earth would keep moving. Time was with a temporary Guardian, and they were contemplating the fate of the one reborn. Samuel Terrace, South Carolina, age fourteen. Born into a family recommended by the majority of neutral deities and in good understanding with their views concerning responsibilities that mattered the most to the council.
Her position was in question as well, but their evidence was vast against the Time Guardian and it was her own fault for trusting him enough to get herself into such trouble. She took full responsibility for her actions and they checked her records for any marring that would effect their decision. They found none.
Though she was now among her element, she felt a tiniest bit alone. She'd never asked for help from her elements. They knew this to be a kindness, and treated her well throughout the conflict. She was strong and willing to move on, and that was enough for now.
Lois smiled for the first time since she left him behind, and remembered that time waited for no one.
Fin.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
abecedarian
Adrienne saw it first. The twitching hand of a dead man. An ambulance and several squad cars were on their way. Most of the grocery customers were outside, but she'd needed to vomit first. They told her to join up afterward and make it fast because she looked like hell. Looking into the mirror after flushing, Adrienne went to the mirror and her eyes bulged out.
Her face had blood splattered over her cheek and nose, and she reached for the automatic sink and a handful of soap. Slathering the liquids over her face, she washed her skin as hard as she could without scratching her skin. Five minutes later she was starting to fight the shock and come back to herself. Her breathing was first to come back. She hadn't realized she'd stopped.
She was okay, at least on a physical level. Emotionally, she was a little shaken because the customer was now dead. There was something to be said about her calm, how she seemed okay after having seen someone die in front of her. She took herself out of the bathroom and started towards the exit. The man was in a different light in the quiet store with no audience.
He'd come in ill, sweating and breathing heavily while he grabbed a few cold waters and several boxes of painkillers. Money didn't seem to be an object, but she wasn't sure he cared about the debt at that point since he seemed so close to the grave. But now there was doubt of his sanity as well, and her blood ran cold at the thought of being so close to someone so sick.
The man was dead now, but there was something different about him. . . other than his lack of life. His chest was moving. Her eyes widened but she shook her head clear of the paranoia. No one came back from his kind of dead. Was he just sleeping? When her feet led her to the body again, she forced herself to stare. About to leave and declaring her disgust in herself, she noticed his fingers twitching. A muffled cry later she bit her tongue as hard as she could.
The dead man moaned. Adrienne found herself standing outside of herself while staring down at the twitching hand. This was bad, Very bad. She had to run. She was suddenly that girl in the cheesy horror movie where the idiot went to open the door to find the murderer on the other side. This made her step back.
That, and the dead man's hand started reaching for her. Adrienne screamed when he suddenly grabbed her ankle and she pulled away only to tear open her skin. She ran to the door, losing more blood than she cared. The air tasted so stale that the only option she had was to get outside. She started seeing spots and her bosses came to see her. They asked her if she was okay and if she needed a doctor and she agreed to be taken to the hospital. Paramedics laid her down on a gurney and put her in one of the ambulances, and doped her up to stop the pain.
The doctors couldn't understand why she wasn't stabilizing, why her fever just wouldn't break. Hours later, she was in the general ward, sleeping with a shallow breath.
Her hand twitched.
Her face had blood splattered over her cheek and nose, and she reached for the automatic sink and a handful of soap. Slathering the liquids over her face, she washed her skin as hard as she could without scratching her skin. Five minutes later she was starting to fight the shock and come back to herself. Her breathing was first to come back. She hadn't realized she'd stopped.
She was okay, at least on a physical level. Emotionally, she was a little shaken because the customer was now dead. There was something to be said about her calm, how she seemed okay after having seen someone die in front of her. She took herself out of the bathroom and started towards the exit. The man was in a different light in the quiet store with no audience.
He'd come in ill, sweating and breathing heavily while he grabbed a few cold waters and several boxes of painkillers. Money didn't seem to be an object, but she wasn't sure he cared about the debt at that point since he seemed so close to the grave. But now there was doubt of his sanity as well, and her blood ran cold at the thought of being so close to someone so sick.
The man was dead now, but there was something different about him. . . other than his lack of life. His chest was moving. Her eyes widened but she shook her head clear of the paranoia. No one came back from his kind of dead. Was he just sleeping? When her feet led her to the body again, she forced herself to stare. About to leave and declaring her disgust in herself, she noticed his fingers twitching. A muffled cry later she bit her tongue as hard as she could.
The dead man moaned. Adrienne found herself standing outside of herself while staring down at the twitching hand. This was bad, Very bad. She had to run. She was suddenly that girl in the cheesy horror movie where the idiot went to open the door to find the murderer on the other side. This made her step back.
That, and the dead man's hand started reaching for her. Adrienne screamed when he suddenly grabbed her ankle and she pulled away only to tear open her skin. She ran to the door, losing more blood than she cared. The air tasted so stale that the only option she had was to get outside. She started seeing spots and her bosses came to see her. They asked her if she was okay and if she needed a doctor and she agreed to be taken to the hospital. Paramedics laid her down on a gurney and put her in one of the ambulances, and doped her up to stop the pain.
The doctors couldn't understand why she wasn't stabilizing, why her fever just wouldn't break. Hours later, she was in the general ward, sleeping with a shallow breath.
Her hand twitched.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Happy Valentine's Day!
Rational Compulsive Decision-Making Sufferer.
by
Daniele Marx
~~~~
The Calculation
listen whilst reading, please.
~~~~
Dana struggled to sit up, being so exhausted. What was wrong with her? The man beside her under the sheets must’ve worn her out more than she remembered. A smile tried to reach her lips but only fell as far as her eyes. A tickle in her throat kept the luxurious feeling of euphoria at bay. She was in love, there was hardly any point in lying to herself any further. Alan rested so peacefully, deeply. She didn’t really know that about him. He hardly even moved. Such a change from last night.
Her arm was a little moist, but it was too dark to tell anything but that Alan must’ve also drooled whilst lying partially atop her. That brought a smile to her lips at last. Then her headache, quietly lurking in the background, came full force and knocked her forward. Her trembling body pulled the covers off and yanked her to the dark bathroom, fumbling in the dark for the aspirin. She knew this place well enough that light wouldn’t have helped much. Dark was good.
After gulping down five or six--honestly, who counts anymore?--200mg, she stumbled back into bed but slid off the silk sheets to the floor. Boy, she loved silk sheets, and there was probably a lot of enjoyment on a regular Saturday afternoon for these babies with whom she secretly called ‘her man.’ Alas, it was Wednesday morning. This had to be atypical for a weekday, even, especially to those who worked customer service. And what a week it was for them. Valentine’s Day. She then decided, as the first one up, to make the complimentary coffee. Maybe the caffeine would help her pounding head. Something just lifted the hairs on her neck this morning, but that’d have to work itself out after a night of hardly any sleep.
She got up after much struggle and lost all control of her motor skills about halfway to the armoire. Her arms didn’t catch, but her legs began to ache as well, and she wondered why she was having any trouble at all. This was really starting to scare her. She jumped when Alan’s alarm went off, the morning news flooding the room like an ugly haze. Someone was blurring in her eardrums, but after a few moments it became more distinct. The voice was talking about people falling ill all over the metropolitan area, and the word ‘epidemic’ was thrown in a few times. This, she decided, was serious and much scarier than her headache. Then ‘airborne,’ ‘death toll,’ and ‘thousands’ struck a note.
Dana’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she scrambled for the light. She needed to know--Alan always said that was her worst flaw, the constant desire to know what was going on. Her hand found the dimmer and she fumbled for a second before the overhead came up in a rush. There, on the bed in a pool of his own blood, was her lover. He was dead, and the blood had come out from everywhere, eyes, fingertips, mouth, nose, ears, everywhere she could see, as far as she could see. Abrasions were all over his skin and then she torn her eyes from him to inspect herself, knowing there was hardly any use in going for help if the word airborne came into play.
First off, she was covered in blood. Alan’s, hers, whatever. Tears fell down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop herself. The pain all over her was just getting worse. Her feet carried her back to the bathroom, to the medicine cabinet. Ten, twenty, nobody counted anymore. She took them all, and went back into the room with her lover, her man. The Valentine’s Day Pandemic, Dana shakingly slid back into bed, and carefully positioned herself for as much comfort as she could muster. The horror, her mind was completely blank. She had no words, no thoughts. Her hand touched his slightly warm one, and pulled it to her lips, kissing his bloody fingers, and held it to her chest. The other hand rested on his soft hair, and she sat there, letting the tears fall.
by
Daniele Marx
~~~~
The Calculation
listen whilst reading, please.
~~~~
Dana struggled to sit up, being so exhausted. What was wrong with her? The man beside her under the sheets must’ve worn her out more than she remembered. A smile tried to reach her lips but only fell as far as her eyes. A tickle in her throat kept the luxurious feeling of euphoria at bay. She was in love, there was hardly any point in lying to herself any further. Alan rested so peacefully, deeply. She didn’t really know that about him. He hardly even moved. Such a change from last night.
Her arm was a little moist, but it was too dark to tell anything but that Alan must’ve also drooled whilst lying partially atop her. That brought a smile to her lips at last. Then her headache, quietly lurking in the background, came full force and knocked her forward. Her trembling body pulled the covers off and yanked her to the dark bathroom, fumbling in the dark for the aspirin. She knew this place well enough that light wouldn’t have helped much. Dark was good.
After gulping down five or six--honestly, who counts anymore?--200mg, she stumbled back into bed but slid off the silk sheets to the floor. Boy, she loved silk sheets, and there was probably a lot of enjoyment on a regular Saturday afternoon for these babies with whom she secretly called ‘her man.’ Alas, it was Wednesday morning. This had to be atypical for a weekday, even, especially to those who worked customer service. And what a week it was for them. Valentine’s Day. She then decided, as the first one up, to make the complimentary coffee. Maybe the caffeine would help her pounding head. Something just lifted the hairs on her neck this morning, but that’d have to work itself out after a night of hardly any sleep.
She got up after much struggle and lost all control of her motor skills about halfway to the armoire. Her arms didn’t catch, but her legs began to ache as well, and she wondered why she was having any trouble at all. This was really starting to scare her. She jumped when Alan’s alarm went off, the morning news flooding the room like an ugly haze. Someone was blurring in her eardrums, but after a few moments it became more distinct. The voice was talking about people falling ill all over the metropolitan area, and the word ‘epidemic’ was thrown in a few times. This, she decided, was serious and much scarier than her headache. Then ‘airborne,’ ‘death toll,’ and ‘thousands’ struck a note.
Dana’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she scrambled for the light. She needed to know--Alan always said that was her worst flaw, the constant desire to know what was going on. Her hand found the dimmer and she fumbled for a second before the overhead came up in a rush. There, on the bed in a pool of his own blood, was her lover. He was dead, and the blood had come out from everywhere, eyes, fingertips, mouth, nose, ears, everywhere she could see, as far as she could see. Abrasions were all over his skin and then she torn her eyes from him to inspect herself, knowing there was hardly any use in going for help if the word airborne came into play.
First off, she was covered in blood. Alan’s, hers, whatever. Tears fell down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop herself. The pain all over her was just getting worse. Her feet carried her back to the bathroom, to the medicine cabinet. Ten, twenty, nobody counted anymore. She took them all, and went back into the room with her lover, her man. The Valentine’s Day Pandemic, Dana shakingly slid back into bed, and carefully positioned herself for as much comfort as she could muster. The horror, her mind was completely blank. She had no words, no thoughts. Her hand touched his slightly warm one, and pulled it to her lips, kissing his bloody fingers, and held it to her chest. The other hand rested on his soft hair, and she sat there, letting the tears fall.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Teri Hatcher -- Lizard Woman from TV Guide
Not only is this weird lady a shoe-in for the next Harley Quinn/Joker Girl, but I noticed she only has twelve teeth on her top row. This is what I do with my time.If I didn't know any better, and if I believed everything on the internet, she almost seems. . . lizardish. She could pass for a lizard person. I was actually waiting for her tongue to come out all forkish and such.
Don't let her escort you to the next room with the lights dimmed and the shades drawn,you might find she's the last to see you alive.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
favorite movie score composers:
Danny Elfman I think this guy has style instead of just having the ability to "Sound the same."
Hans Zimmer Love his work, makes me giddy whenever I listen to him.
Marco Beltrami Loved the Hellboy music, feel dangerous whenever I listen to him. ^_^.
Tyler Bates 300. . . that is all.
James Horner Mask of Zorro, Braveheart. . . <3
Steve Jablonsky Make those Transformers appeal to humans!
Don Davis I'll never pour honey on cornbread the same ever again.
Ramin Djawadi Bring on the Iron. You haven't done much, but you bring on the awesome.
Britt Daniel For his work on Stranger Than Fiction. Less musical score, more rock track. Love you, man.
Michael Giacchino: I loved The Lost World & Star Trek.
John Williams. . . I like him, but everybody thinks he's the only one who shits gold or something and for some reason that ticks me off.
Jerry Goldsmith: Gremlins, Powder, I.Q.
Hans Zimmer Love his work, makes me giddy whenever I listen to him.
Marco Beltrami Loved the Hellboy music, feel dangerous whenever I listen to him. ^_^.
Tyler Bates 300. . . that is all.
James Horner Mask of Zorro, Braveheart. . . <3
Steve Jablonsky Make those Transformers appeal to humans!
Don Davis I'll never pour honey on cornbread the same ever again.
Ramin Djawadi Bring on the Iron. You haven't done much, but you bring on the awesome.
Britt Daniel For his work on Stranger Than Fiction. Less musical score, more rock track. Love you, man.
Michael Giacchino: I loved The Lost World & Star Trek.
John Williams. . . I like him, but everybody thinks he's the only one who shits gold or something and for some reason that ticks me off.
Jerry Goldsmith: Gremlins, Powder, I.Q.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Hey, check this trailer out. Riese: The Series just started on the second and it might be something with which to keep up.
Riese: The Series [Trailer]
The reason I'm just posting the link is because the video seems to take up the entire blog. That makes me sad. *tear*
Riese: The Series [Trailer]
The reason I'm just posting the link is because the video seems to take up the entire blog. That makes me sad. *tear*
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Library Computers
I love hanging out online at a library, especially in the back of the room. I get to see everybody's screens and it's a really fun thing to do. It's not like stalking between you and me, but I watch people seek out strange things much like I am--like a potential MySpace unsavory type of person lurking for a little action. No, not creepy at all, because I'm watching HIM. He's a guy with blond hair and a bushy mustache that probably woN'T get him a girl. Aaaaand there he goes. Behind him, a boy on a racecar game site, someone checking her email one up and over, and some Twitards left earlier. They were cool until they opened their mouths and said something. Then I told them Twilight sucked and they got that deer-in-headlights look in their eyes. Then, it got really quiet and they left. At least I can surf and check out webtoons without their meddling. :3
Monday, November 02, 2009
Random Things Learned from the TDTESS remake
* Aliens, when they appear, usually show up to the party early. . . about 90 years too early.
* Aliens, when given a choice between Tuna Salad, Ham and Cheese, and Chicken Salad, will always choose Tuna Salad. Beware.
* Keanu Reeves plays his most vital roles when absolutely no human emotion is required, responding with a very resounding "Whoa" when he looks into the camera.
* Jennifer Connelly finally stopped giving children to Jareth and started keeping them herself.
* Slow motion means everything goes faster.
* Avoid planet-shaped orbs of glowiness when possible.
* Robotic men. . . don't fuck with them.
* Reeves does just as much acting as an alien as he does Jes--I mean, Neo.
* Cassandra Wong's dad: "You've got to start blinking, Keanu."
Keanu: "If you stay, you will die."
Cassandra Wong's dad: "What?"
* Jennifer: "Even though my son calls me Helen, I still think everyone in the audience is calling me Sarah. You give your brother away ONCE and all this happens!"
* Jareth: "Doesn't matter, I don't get laid in this one, either."
* Vogon Leader: "Did they have proper authorization to Kathy Bates this movie?"
Vogon Peon: *Shock* "N-No, Sir!"
* I think it's time to just destroy the planet at this point.
* Central Park is THE place to destroy the world. The other location was in Los Angeles, but Hollywood thought it'd be too Hollywood.
* Keanu Reeves is like the idiot closet scientist without the vocal chords to tell us what he's capable of.
* Where's Lucifer? This movie could use more Lucifer.
* Moral of the story 67 minutes into the film: Human race. . . stop being a dick. Hey! We can stop watching now! :D
* Apparently, the only ones who notice the bad shit on this planet are the ones whose existence are forcibly unacknowledged by the masses.
* Little bastard told on him and now expects to be dragged everywhere by an alien whose directions rely on the memories of the only species on the planet that flat-out refuses to pull over for directions to the World's Largest Ball of Yarn, insisting that "It's just up ahead."
* This could also use a two-foot mallet and a cabin in the--hey! Cabin in the woods!
* Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I've stopped paying attention.
* Aliens, when given a choice between Tuna Salad, Ham and Cheese, and Chicken Salad, will always choose Tuna Salad. Beware.
* Keanu Reeves plays his most vital roles when absolutely no human emotion is required, responding with a very resounding "Whoa" when he looks into the camera.
* Jennifer Connelly finally stopped giving children to Jareth and started keeping them herself.
* Slow motion means everything goes faster.
* Avoid planet-shaped orbs of glowiness when possible.
* Robotic men. . . don't fuck with them.
* Reeves does just as much acting as an alien as he does Jes--I mean, Neo.
* Cassandra Wong's dad: "You've got to start blinking, Keanu."
Keanu: "If you stay, you will die."
Cassandra Wong's dad: "What?"
* Jennifer: "Even though my son calls me Helen, I still think everyone in the audience is calling me Sarah. You give your brother away ONCE and all this happens!"
* Jareth: "Doesn't matter, I don't get laid in this one, either."
* Vogon Leader: "Did they have proper authorization to Kathy Bates this movie?"
Vogon Peon: *Shock* "N-No, Sir!"
* I think it's time to just destroy the planet at this point.
* Central Park is THE place to destroy the world. The other location was in Los Angeles, but Hollywood thought it'd be too Hollywood.
* Keanu Reeves is like the idiot closet scientist without the vocal chords to tell us what he's capable of.
* Where's Lucifer? This movie could use more Lucifer.
* Moral of the story 67 minutes into the film: Human race. . . stop being a dick. Hey! We can stop watching now! :D
* Apparently, the only ones who notice the bad shit on this planet are the ones whose existence are forcibly unacknowledged by the masses.
* Little bastard told on him and now expects to be dragged everywhere by an alien whose directions rely on the memories of the only species on the planet that flat-out refuses to pull over for directions to the World's Largest Ball of Yarn, insisting that "It's just up ahead."
* This could also use a two-foot mallet and a cabin in the--hey! Cabin in the woods!
* Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I've stopped paying attention.
Slice of Life
Eyes open. Trees. Left. Right. Left. Right. Swallow. Breath. Pain.
How long have I been out?
The sun was beginning to glow on the horizon--I was in the forest!--but I wasn't sure anymore that someone would find me. Not when I wasn't positive of my location. My stomach cramped, the pain unbearable. I don't even think I can see color anymore. If my hand was in my sight, would I see red or gray?
Maybe I could still stand if I tried hard enough. Something about never wanting to die without a fight. The thing had to be gone by now, having done its' damage. It wasn't anything like the book said, nothing like the eyewitnesses, and that goes to show that some people don't mind being inaccurate. A fighting chance. Beast or not, I was going to get myself back on my feet. Walking to the nearest road on the chance of someone stopping? Let the devil come out and finish me so long as I'm standing if not.
One hand up, the pain was less. Not a good sign. The other hand pulled to come up, and a long stitch of heat soared through my body. I screamed. My arm was pasted to my wound. Shaking, free hand down, I pushed myself up to sit. Jesus the pain.
I couldn't smell anything and my face hurt. Hell, I think I may have gotten whiplash or something. Part of me wondered if my face looked as bad as I felt. Nocturnal being, wamp-something or another. I didn't care anymore, and I was then on my feet. I don't know, but the trees were quiet, the wind dead.
Snap. Rustle. Growl.
Tears fell down my face and all my pain faded for this moment to the sound of my heart pounding in my head, neck, legs, everywhere. I couldn't move I was shaking so bad. I was going to die.
I turned to the sound, my neck and stomach aching horribly and not allowing for much of any movement. My arm, still stuck against my stomach wound, was causing the blood to flow again. Eyes through the darkness and peering from behind a nearby tree, glowed in the dawn's path. I couldn't move and my lips couldn't do more than shudder. It stepped towards me, more tears.
I was balancing on my knees and good arm now, clenching the grass. How'd I get here? Whimpers made the creature lick its bloodied lips and I didn't even try to stand again. He raised a clawed hand as I looked up to see the hunger in his eyes.
Pain.
Then nothing.
How long have I been out?
The sun was beginning to glow on the horizon--I was in the forest!--but I wasn't sure anymore that someone would find me. Not when I wasn't positive of my location. My stomach cramped, the pain unbearable. I don't even think I can see color anymore. If my hand was in my sight, would I see red or gray?
Maybe I could still stand if I tried hard enough. Something about never wanting to die without a fight. The thing had to be gone by now, having done its' damage. It wasn't anything like the book said, nothing like the eyewitnesses, and that goes to show that some people don't mind being inaccurate. A fighting chance. Beast or not, I was going to get myself back on my feet. Walking to the nearest road on the chance of someone stopping? Let the devil come out and finish me so long as I'm standing if not.
One hand up, the pain was less. Not a good sign. The other hand pulled to come up, and a long stitch of heat soared through my body. I screamed. My arm was pasted to my wound. Shaking, free hand down, I pushed myself up to sit. Jesus the pain.
I couldn't smell anything and my face hurt. Hell, I think I may have gotten whiplash or something. Part of me wondered if my face looked as bad as I felt. Nocturnal being, wamp-something or another. I didn't care anymore, and I was then on my feet. I don't know, but the trees were quiet, the wind dead.
Snap. Rustle. Growl.
Tears fell down my face and all my pain faded for this moment to the sound of my heart pounding in my head, neck, legs, everywhere. I couldn't move I was shaking so bad. I was going to die.
I turned to the sound, my neck and stomach aching horribly and not allowing for much of any movement. My arm, still stuck against my stomach wound, was causing the blood to flow again. Eyes through the darkness and peering from behind a nearby tree, glowed in the dawn's path. I couldn't move and my lips couldn't do more than shudder. It stepped towards me, more tears.
I was balancing on my knees and good arm now, clenching the grass. How'd I get here? Whimpers made the creature lick its bloodied lips and I didn't even try to stand again. He raised a clawed hand as I looked up to see the hunger in his eyes.
Pain.
Then nothing.
At the Speed of. . .
I was having the cashier dream again. The food actually felt pretty real. That's all I could think about. Beep. The sounds were different, though. Beep Beep. "Error Correct." I didn't remember there being screeching and snapping before. Beep. Beep. Beep. "Will that be all?" I was in my pajamas. Why? Because this was a dream.
"Roaghurghle." Then there was a snarl. I finally looked up and before me was what I could only guess was a gigantic, spider-faced fur-coated beast. My eyes wide, I tried to think of something apologetic, because I can't stare. I shouldn't stare, but I feared what would happen if I looked away. The creature put a few coins on the platform and a hole appeared out of the woodwork. A receipt came up to my right.
"H-Here's your-r-receipt. . ." Shaking hands gave the Spider Man's furry ones a small piece of paper and I tried to slow my racing heart enough to keep from wanting to run.
"Flurgnagglen," he muttered. It was supposed to sound insulting, and he left. I couldn't stop staring, or stop wanting to cry. Then the next customer thudded her purse onto the belt. I reached for the beginning of her items and made the mistake of looking up. Empty eye sockets with dark red puss draining from them on a body of a porous and decaying woman stopped my breath. She opened her mouth, blood pouring out from there as she attempted to speak.
Oh god, I'm going to die.
In a half-attempt to remain conscious, I quickly checked her out and turned to shut my light off. Waking up was imperative, but I could feel everything! Every pain in my foot, even the sore on my hand from scraping against the metal turn style, was real. I felt my clothes, jumped up and down, caused my hand to bleed just to see if I could shake it off.
Turning around to see if I had any co-workers whom I knew, I found my voice gone as a woman with a name tag I couldn't read seemed to be made of flesh and bone except for the gigantic black tentacle that was spurred from her head and wrapped around her neck. Her eyes were black orbs and every once in a while she twitched and growled.
I looked around frantically. Bug people, dead animals, slime creatures, they were my co-workers. I was the only human here.
"Rawrrr." I turned and bit my tongue. I couldn't take it. Something came up behind me and pushed me out of the way, taking their turn at my register and muttering something I didn't understand. It pointed to a man-shaped creature, facing away from me, a few meters away and I went to him.
"Umm. . . " I lowered my voice, "Excuse me?" He ignored me. "Hello?" Suddenly, a loud growl came from behind me and I squeaked in fear and jumped out of the way of a millipede trying to get by. The man creature turned and looked at me finally. He had a crab claw for a hand and pinchers for a mouth snapped. He made a gurgling sound at me and I fainted.
And then I woke up in a sweat, heart pounding and shaking from head to toe. I was staring at a white ceiling, not sure if I wanted to know where I woke up this time. Sitting up, my feet became more level with the ground and I found myself standing. Tears were falling down my cheeks and I was where I fell. My side hurt, like somebody had tripped or run me over in some way. It was quite possible.
Still in my bunny pajamas and fighting to not run, I took my apron off and went in search of answers. Screeches and grunts followed me until I reached the outside world. It. . .
It looked the same. But worse. Monsters and creepers swarmed the streets and on the oozing and blood-coated ground were pieces of paper with a picture of a black spot and a halo of light around its circumference. A solar eclipse. Oh. s**t. Could that crap I read about in school have been true at all, even the littlest bit? Space travel and other worlds, dimensions?
A thud on my shoulder made me jump and spin to meet the eyes of the snapping face pincher boss. I held in a scream and he pointed back into the building. I didn't want to go back into the building, but part of me argued that if it was whatever it was and I had nothing else to go on yet, I was dead in the water.
I walked behind him through the store, avoiding eye/blob/feelers contact with anybody. Nobody spoke my language, but there was a calendar kind of thing in the back, schedules to see and learn, a system. All I had to do was keep from screaming or passing out every time a customer talked to me.
My eyes opened. Bunny Pajamas were replaced with a uniform. Beep. Beep Beep. "Rornwa Eromn." Beep. Beep. Beep. Item after item, one horrific monster after another, with their brain-sucking little monsters with them, screeching and moaning. Not really that much different than before. I still don't understand anything they're saying, just like before. Nobody really gave a damn. Same as here.
What was home? When was it? Did I dream it up? I had dreams of being back in the house I remembered in another dream, but it was less real now. I giggled a few times, trying to recall what my life was before the last Eclipse, but my memory was hiding from me. From ME! Another giggle, more like a cackle.
Something about Rome.
"Roaghurghle." Then there was a snarl. I finally looked up and before me was what I could only guess was a gigantic, spider-faced fur-coated beast. My eyes wide, I tried to think of something apologetic, because I can't stare. I shouldn't stare, but I feared what would happen if I looked away. The creature put a few coins on the platform and a hole appeared out of the woodwork. A receipt came up to my right.
"H-Here's your-r-receipt. . ." Shaking hands gave the Spider Man's furry ones a small piece of paper and I tried to slow my racing heart enough to keep from wanting to run.
"Flurgnagglen," he muttered. It was supposed to sound insulting, and he left. I couldn't stop staring, or stop wanting to cry. Then the next customer thudded her purse onto the belt. I reached for the beginning of her items and made the mistake of looking up. Empty eye sockets with dark red puss draining from them on a body of a porous and decaying woman stopped my breath. She opened her mouth, blood pouring out from there as she attempted to speak.
Oh god, I'm going to die.
In a half-attempt to remain conscious, I quickly checked her out and turned to shut my light off. Waking up was imperative, but I could feel everything! Every pain in my foot, even the sore on my hand from scraping against the metal turn style, was real. I felt my clothes, jumped up and down, caused my hand to bleed just to see if I could shake it off.
Turning around to see if I had any co-workers whom I knew, I found my voice gone as a woman with a name tag I couldn't read seemed to be made of flesh and bone except for the gigantic black tentacle that was spurred from her head and wrapped around her neck. Her eyes were black orbs and every once in a while she twitched and growled.
I looked around frantically. Bug people, dead animals, slime creatures, they were my co-workers. I was the only human here.
"Rawrrr." I turned and bit my tongue. I couldn't take it. Something came up behind me and pushed me out of the way, taking their turn at my register and muttering something I didn't understand. It pointed to a man-shaped creature, facing away from me, a few meters away and I went to him.
"Umm. . . " I lowered my voice, "Excuse me?" He ignored me. "Hello?" Suddenly, a loud growl came from behind me and I squeaked in fear and jumped out of the way of a millipede trying to get by. The man creature turned and looked at me finally. He had a crab claw for a hand and pinchers for a mouth snapped. He made a gurgling sound at me and I fainted.
And then I woke up in a sweat, heart pounding and shaking from head to toe. I was staring at a white ceiling, not sure if I wanted to know where I woke up this time. Sitting up, my feet became more level with the ground and I found myself standing. Tears were falling down my cheeks and I was where I fell. My side hurt, like somebody had tripped or run me over in some way. It was quite possible.
Still in my bunny pajamas and fighting to not run, I took my apron off and went in search of answers. Screeches and grunts followed me until I reached the outside world. It. . .
It looked the same. But worse. Monsters and creepers swarmed the streets and on the oozing and blood-coated ground were pieces of paper with a picture of a black spot and a halo of light around its circumference. A solar eclipse. Oh. s**t. Could that crap I read about in school have been true at all, even the littlest bit? Space travel and other worlds, dimensions?
A thud on my shoulder made me jump and spin to meet the eyes of the snapping face pincher boss. I held in a scream and he pointed back into the building. I didn't want to go back into the building, but part of me argued that if it was whatever it was and I had nothing else to go on yet, I was dead in the water.
I walked behind him through the store, avoiding eye/blob/feelers contact with anybody. Nobody spoke my language, but there was a calendar kind of thing in the back, schedules to see and learn, a system. All I had to do was keep from screaming or passing out every time a customer talked to me.
My eyes opened. Bunny Pajamas were replaced with a uniform. Beep. Beep Beep. "Rornwa Eromn." Beep. Beep. Beep. Item after item, one horrific monster after another, with their brain-sucking little monsters with them, screeching and moaning. Not really that much different than before. I still don't understand anything they're saying, just like before. Nobody really gave a damn. Same as here.
What was home? When was it? Did I dream it up? I had dreams of being back in the house I remembered in another dream, but it was less real now. I giggled a few times, trying to recall what my life was before the last Eclipse, but my memory was hiding from me. From ME! Another giggle, more like a cackle.
Something about Rome.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Cowboy Bebop LAM [why am I scared?]
Keanu Reeves Confirms Live-Action Cowboy Bebop Involvement
December 17, 2008
Source: MTV
by Alex Billington
We first reported a rumor way back in July that Keanu Reeves was cast as Spike Spiegel in an in-development Cowboy Bebop live-action adaptation. Not much has been mentioned about it since then, however, MTV talked with Reeves recently and finally got confirmation on his involvement - "we're trying to do that," Reeves said. As originally reported, Fox producer Erwin Stoff is developing the project and an unannounced writer is working on the screenplay. In addition to confirming his involvement, Reeves shared some early details on the project, including ideas for the story that they're hoping to put together. "It's so episodic and so disconnected - we're trying to figure out what pieces to put together to tell one story."
Reeves says of his appreciation for groundbreaking anime series: "It's got a western quality, a western film noir aspect to it. It's got so much style to it, and that's part of its appeal. That kind of Old West, bordertown, low-tech science fiction aspect." As for adapting it, Reeves admits it will be a challenge, but adds that "that's why you want to do it." As for the style that he mentioned, Reeves says that this project "would be a production designer’s dream - I think you just need a good production designer." I couldn't agree more, but obviously it all starts with the director and as far as we know, they haven't found one yet.
"Because it's such a short form, to make a 2 hour version [will be tough]. And it's got so much of an origin-story obligation; you've got to get people up to speed, but you don't want to do much of that. There are a lot of things to take into consideration, but we think we can do something good." I know fans of the series are already very skeptical, considering our first article on Reeves racked up some 118 comments, most of them complaining about Hollywood ruining great anime and Reeves' attachment. However, based on Reeves' statements here, I've got a feeling that this isn't going to turn out as bad as Dragonball Evolution in the end. They just need to find the right director first and maybe that will relieve everyone's fears.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
FRICKIN' A
Okay, I'm officially in a funk with my writing. None of it is making it from word processor to internet, and it's all because I'm afraid I'll start revising it and never stop. Plus, I found out some interesting news recently and now I've become a little less sane than I used to be. Go fig that it'd be over family matters and money.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Joseph Ridge
I promised some higher rating pieces, it'll just take a little time to get into the story before the nice parts start happening. I'm working on this story often so I'm hoping to make things clearer by certain chapters--not saying I've got these in chapter forms, lets just call each entry a chapter. Enjoy!
~~~~
A cell phone let out a shrill ring in the quiet apartment. Dana and Jordan nearly cringed from the familiarity of the sound; it usually meant trouble for them when Colin’s phone rang. The sound of Colin presenting them with yet another dilemma to their already building tension made nothing easier to bear. Thankfully Colin was there to answer his own damn phone.
“Merriam speaking.” Dana sent a look to Jordan, waiting for the bad news to rear its ugly head, but the man was already angry at his superior for reasons he would not disclose, which meant that it concerned her. The man wasn’t too hard to figure out, despite his psychological defenses and cloaking devices. What did Colin say to him that had her caretaker on edge? “Sorry, you must have the wrong number.” The A.D. was even upset about something, being completely unreadable as he poured himself a brandy from his flask. It was a nasty habit to break for him; he usually did it around Dana when she was exceptionally difficult. This was their bimonthly meeting with the three of them. The A.D., Alfred Young, was not angry at her otherwise he’d been discussing whatever behavior she’d displayed with her by now. No, he was angry at Colin, but for different reasons than usual.
Colin was outright spiteful towards the young woman. He reasoned that she wasn’t trained for the work he was ordered to give her, so instead of adapting to the arrangement between himself and the other three who were in on this setup, he piled her with enough work that both she and Jordan suffered from sleep deprivation. The two often had to call in delivery in order to get a meal in while they looked over paperwork that Colin had dropped off. The week prior to this one, Dana had gotten a total of twelve hours of sleep; Jordan had gotten ten, but that’s only because he fell asleep on his file and she decided to let him lie there for two hours. He woke up with a start, nearly scaring Dana as she poured herself more hot tea.
But now Colin was paying for something he did. Dana just wished she knew what it was so she could hate him as much as Young did. “There’s no Jones here.” Jordan let his façade drop. There it was, Dana thought. Someone was looking for her. That’s why no one was looking at her, why everyone was keeping her in the dark. They didn’t want her to know they screwed up, that someone was looking for her. Who was it? She still didn’t know if she wanted to be found. She was lost. The A.D., who had once glared at Colin, was now content to look away from the trio in order to contemplate the possibilities of the caller.
“Put Jones on the line,” the man repeated on the other end of the line.
“There is no one here by that name.”
“Of course there is.” Colin was shaken out of his confusion by Dana’s hand, which came up to take the phone. “She’s right there beside you.” Colin’s face paled at her blank stare. She had been confused for a moment until she’d looked around. Everyone was trying not to think about what was happening on the phone, trying to deny that someone had leaked information about her whereabouts. She wasn’t one to deny the facts, but Jordan should’ve known better. At least the A.D. was trying to discover a way out of this, either that or he was too upset about the fact that someone opened their fat mouth.
“I’m Jones.”
“No you aren’t,” he said, unbelieving.
“Did you even read my file? It was the first thing at the top you idiot.”
“I’m not giving you the phone.” Colin looked at Jordan, who was giving him a stern look of disdain. “I’m not giving her the phone.”
“Give her the damn phone, Merriam, or it’s your job.” A.D. Young said. The taller man’s shoulders sagged from reluctance. He surrendered and dropped the phone into Dana’s hand. His revulsion towards her was childlike and frowned upon among his colleagues, but he continued to let her bother him. At first she debated even answering it but she saw Young’s blank stare. “Answer it, Eiseley.” She brought the phone to her ear, turned away from the three stares, and held her breath.
“I knew you’d be there. That Colin has a big mouth.” Well, she reasoned, she couldn’t argue with fact.
“Who is this?”
“Joseph Ridge.” Dana blinked. Was she supposed to recognize this name? No one she knew had that name or alias. “You don’t know me, Jones, but I’ve heard about you.”
“How do you know about me?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is time. You are running out of it.” Dana scoffed at the message. Running out of time? About time. “I have placed a rather powerful explosive in a very crowed place, and I’m going to give you the chance to find it.”
“That won’t fly, Ridge. I’ve got no power to do that.”
“Then how come you’re the one I keep hearing about? The hacker turned FBI commodity? Everyone wants one now that you’ve come along.” Dana took a seat and leaned back into the cushioning. She had a feeling that this wouldn’t be quick or simple.
“And everyone wants me, I suppose?”
“You suppose correct. What are your thoughts on this?” Dana, without missing a beat, changed the subject. She’d try to not become too curious. Jordan was too anxious to leave in the dark at this point.
“Why would I give a damn about a bomb?” Jordan and Young stared at her in shock as the words left her mouth. They couldn’t believe, with her self-sacrificing attitude, that she would say such a thing. Was she bluffing? Jordan knew that she’d been suffering mental strain these past few days; he just didn’t know it was as serious as she was acting. She had to be bluffing.
Then Ridge backed up to the original topic, went along with her. Dana wondered if she would have to wait for the answer to that question. Why would he not pursue her lack of response to his apparently play on her position?
“Because you don’t want to be responsible for the one thousand casualties when this device goes off. You’re not ready to risk more lives in order to fulfill your own need to rebel.” Her eyes seemed to steel over, and she knew Jordan saw it. She wanted to meet the challenge and he knew it now. Thankfully neither the A.D. or Colin knew this look. She was ready for a fight. The man on the line was making little progress in developing his reason but his intent was clear. She was angry because of his lack of interest.
“I could disconnect this call right now and would not lose--”
“Eiseley, don’t you dare.” the A.D. barked. She rolled her eyes, sighed from frustration, and threw her arm over the back of the couch. Her patience had been waning for three days, and now she seemed to be lashing out against a threat to national security. She could do this and no one would be able to force her to do anything else--they’d have to send her to prison. She wanted that from the beginning. But, with a raised eyebrow and look of pure apathy on her face, she could hardly resist.
“Sure, why not? Tell me about your bomb, Mr. Ridge, I have all the time in the world. It’s not my phone.” There was laughter on the other line. Colin shifted uncomfortably at the thought of her racking up his phone bill. The notion almost made her smile. Jordan wasn’t sure whether she was still serious about her reluctance to help them by staying on the line. He was starting to wonder whether keeping her on the line was a good idea. In her moods like this it was well known to keep her away from people she’d once been associated with. She was on no one’s side when she reverted to this attitude.
Young said nothing but stared at Dana, trying to read her expressions.
“I’m not impressed.”
“Of course you’re not. Are they still in the room?” Dana looked up to see the three staring at her intensely.
“They are. Do you wish to speak with one of them?”
“Your voice is infinitely more arousing than any of theirs.”
“Not flattered.”
“Not disgusted. I’ll bet Svela had some real chivalry and class you could compare men to in the future.” Her mouth went numb. How did he know about Alan? “I don’t stand a chance.” Jordan didn’t even know about Alan until she told him and even then he had to fight her for the information. Her caretaker was staring oddly at her, or was it she who was uncomfortable enough to interpret his looks differently? She took a second to gather her reserves, her breath being hasty and draining as she realized her state. Her hands were clammy and her face obviously pale and jaw slack. There was good reason for her to be this way, and she meant to stop it now. She stood up and made her way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, moving the phone to her other ear so she could wipe the moisture from her hands.
“Leave him out of this.” She passed between Jordan and Young and aimed straight for the hallway that led to the bathroom. His voice stopped her.
“You’re nervous. Stop moving around.”
“I wouldn’t be if you’d stop beating around the bush.”
“I’m not the one running from my past. Don’t move another muscle until I’m done speaking.” She looked down, feeling anxious for moving and allowing him control.
“Lets just get to business; we can talk about me some other time.”
“It’s a date. Meet me outside in ten, and wear something nice.” Before she could say anything, there was a click and she was disconnected. Looking up quickly, the realization that she was once again tricked soaked into her mind. She wouldn’t go through this again. Numb, she suddenly jerked her arm away from her, the cell phone went flying onto the coffee table. She didn’t move for the long moment following.
~~~~
A cell phone let out a shrill ring in the quiet apartment. Dana and Jordan nearly cringed from the familiarity of the sound; it usually meant trouble for them when Colin’s phone rang. The sound of Colin presenting them with yet another dilemma to their already building tension made nothing easier to bear. Thankfully Colin was there to answer his own damn phone.
“Merriam speaking.” Dana sent a look to Jordan, waiting for the bad news to rear its ugly head, but the man was already angry at his superior for reasons he would not disclose, which meant that it concerned her. The man wasn’t too hard to figure out, despite his psychological defenses and cloaking devices. What did Colin say to him that had her caretaker on edge? “Sorry, you must have the wrong number.” The A.D. was even upset about something, being completely unreadable as he poured himself a brandy from his flask. It was a nasty habit to break for him; he usually did it around Dana when she was exceptionally difficult. This was their bimonthly meeting with the three of them. The A.D., Alfred Young, was not angry at her otherwise he’d been discussing whatever behavior she’d displayed with her by now. No, he was angry at Colin, but for different reasons than usual.
Colin was outright spiteful towards the young woman. He reasoned that she wasn’t trained for the work he was ordered to give her, so instead of adapting to the arrangement between himself and the other three who were in on this setup, he piled her with enough work that both she and Jordan suffered from sleep deprivation. The two often had to call in delivery in order to get a meal in while they looked over paperwork that Colin had dropped off. The week prior to this one, Dana had gotten a total of twelve hours of sleep; Jordan had gotten ten, but that’s only because he fell asleep on his file and she decided to let him lie there for two hours. He woke up with a start, nearly scaring Dana as she poured herself more hot tea.
But now Colin was paying for something he did. Dana just wished she knew what it was so she could hate him as much as Young did. “There’s no Jones here.” Jordan let his façade drop. There it was, Dana thought. Someone was looking for her. That’s why no one was looking at her, why everyone was keeping her in the dark. They didn’t want her to know they screwed up, that someone was looking for her. Who was it? She still didn’t know if she wanted to be found. She was lost. The A.D., who had once glared at Colin, was now content to look away from the trio in order to contemplate the possibilities of the caller.
“Put Jones on the line,” the man repeated on the other end of the line.
“There is no one here by that name.”
“Of course there is.” Colin was shaken out of his confusion by Dana’s hand, which came up to take the phone. “She’s right there beside you.” Colin’s face paled at her blank stare. She had been confused for a moment until she’d looked around. Everyone was trying not to think about what was happening on the phone, trying to deny that someone had leaked information about her whereabouts. She wasn’t one to deny the facts, but Jordan should’ve known better. At least the A.D. was trying to discover a way out of this, either that or he was too upset about the fact that someone opened their fat mouth.
“I’m Jones.”
“No you aren’t,” he said, unbelieving.
“Did you even read my file? It was the first thing at the top you idiot.”
“I’m not giving you the phone.” Colin looked at Jordan, who was giving him a stern look of disdain. “I’m not giving her the phone.”
“Give her the damn phone, Merriam, or it’s your job.” A.D. Young said. The taller man’s shoulders sagged from reluctance. He surrendered and dropped the phone into Dana’s hand. His revulsion towards her was childlike and frowned upon among his colleagues, but he continued to let her bother him. At first she debated even answering it but she saw Young’s blank stare. “Answer it, Eiseley.” She brought the phone to her ear, turned away from the three stares, and held her breath.
“I knew you’d be there. That Colin has a big mouth.” Well, she reasoned, she couldn’t argue with fact.
“Who is this?”
“Joseph Ridge.” Dana blinked. Was she supposed to recognize this name? No one she knew had that name or alias. “You don’t know me, Jones, but I’ve heard about you.”
“How do you know about me?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is time. You are running out of it.” Dana scoffed at the message. Running out of time? About time. “I have placed a rather powerful explosive in a very crowed place, and I’m going to give you the chance to find it.”
“That won’t fly, Ridge. I’ve got no power to do that.”
“Then how come you’re the one I keep hearing about? The hacker turned FBI commodity? Everyone wants one now that you’ve come along.” Dana took a seat and leaned back into the cushioning. She had a feeling that this wouldn’t be quick or simple.
“And everyone wants me, I suppose?”
“You suppose correct. What are your thoughts on this?” Dana, without missing a beat, changed the subject. She’d try to not become too curious. Jordan was too anxious to leave in the dark at this point.
“Why would I give a damn about a bomb?” Jordan and Young stared at her in shock as the words left her mouth. They couldn’t believe, with her self-sacrificing attitude, that she would say such a thing. Was she bluffing? Jordan knew that she’d been suffering mental strain these past few days; he just didn’t know it was as serious as she was acting. She had to be bluffing.
Then Ridge backed up to the original topic, went along with her. Dana wondered if she would have to wait for the answer to that question. Why would he not pursue her lack of response to his apparently play on her position?
“Because you don’t want to be responsible for the one thousand casualties when this device goes off. You’re not ready to risk more lives in order to fulfill your own need to rebel.” Her eyes seemed to steel over, and she knew Jordan saw it. She wanted to meet the challenge and he knew it now. Thankfully neither the A.D. or Colin knew this look. She was ready for a fight. The man on the line was making little progress in developing his reason but his intent was clear. She was angry because of his lack of interest.
“I could disconnect this call right now and would not lose--”
“Eiseley, don’t you dare.” the A.D. barked. She rolled her eyes, sighed from frustration, and threw her arm over the back of the couch. Her patience had been waning for three days, and now she seemed to be lashing out against a threat to national security. She could do this and no one would be able to force her to do anything else--they’d have to send her to prison. She wanted that from the beginning. But, with a raised eyebrow and look of pure apathy on her face, she could hardly resist.
“Sure, why not? Tell me about your bomb, Mr. Ridge, I have all the time in the world. It’s not my phone.” There was laughter on the other line. Colin shifted uncomfortably at the thought of her racking up his phone bill. The notion almost made her smile. Jordan wasn’t sure whether she was still serious about her reluctance to help them by staying on the line. He was starting to wonder whether keeping her on the line was a good idea. In her moods like this it was well known to keep her away from people she’d once been associated with. She was on no one’s side when she reverted to this attitude.
Young said nothing but stared at Dana, trying to read her expressions.
“I’m not impressed.”
“Of course you’re not. Are they still in the room?” Dana looked up to see the three staring at her intensely.
“They are. Do you wish to speak with one of them?”
“Your voice is infinitely more arousing than any of theirs.”
“Not flattered.”
“Not disgusted. I’ll bet Svela had some real chivalry and class you could compare men to in the future.” Her mouth went numb. How did he know about Alan? “I don’t stand a chance.” Jordan didn’t even know about Alan until she told him and even then he had to fight her for the information. Her caretaker was staring oddly at her, or was it she who was uncomfortable enough to interpret his looks differently? She took a second to gather her reserves, her breath being hasty and draining as she realized her state. Her hands were clammy and her face obviously pale and jaw slack. There was good reason for her to be this way, and she meant to stop it now. She stood up and made her way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, moving the phone to her other ear so she could wipe the moisture from her hands.
“Leave him out of this.” She passed between Jordan and Young and aimed straight for the hallway that led to the bathroom. His voice stopped her.
“You’re nervous. Stop moving around.”
“I wouldn’t be if you’d stop beating around the bush.”
“I’m not the one running from my past. Don’t move another muscle until I’m done speaking.” She looked down, feeling anxious for moving and allowing him control.
“Lets just get to business; we can talk about me some other time.”
“It’s a date. Meet me outside in ten, and wear something nice.” Before she could say anything, there was a click and she was disconnected. Looking up quickly, the realization that she was once again tricked soaked into her mind. She wouldn’t go through this again. Numb, she suddenly jerked her arm away from her, the cell phone went flying onto the coffee table. She didn’t move for the long moment following.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Your results:
You are
The Joker
Click here to take the Supervillain Personality Quiz
Your results:
You are Wonder Woman
Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...
You are
The Joker
| The Clown Prince of Crime. You are a brilliant mastermind but are criminally insane. You love to joke around while accomplishing the task at hand. |
Click here to take the Supervillain Personality Quiz
Your results:
You are Wonder Woman
| You are a beautiful princess with great strength of character.  |
Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...
Monday, December 18, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
I need a vote of who all reads this. I want to place smutty stories on this blog. Come on people, I know you're out there and I know what kind of mind I have. I'm going to start posting my more dangerous works if no one wants to stop me. Also, I'm running out of complete PG-13 stories and I really, really like it.
Will edit with results later, might switch to a darker theme for a few months.
Tell me what you think about smut. Don't worry, I won't bite. . . unless you ask me to.
Will edit with results later, might switch to a darker theme for a few months.
Tell me what you think about smut. Don't worry, I won't bite. . . unless you ask me to.
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