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Joined: Fri Jul 09, 2010 4:47 pm
Posts: 10
Post Random Writing
I'll be using this thread for the next little while to post up some of my own writing bits. At some point there will be a seperate area of the form to which all will be moved. Till then tada:

Of Time and Fate
Character Profile: James (Gwydion)

“Now James I want you to behave while you’re in New York.”

James looked up at his father with a mixture of annoyance and longing, “Dad, you know I fucking hate it there. Why cant I just stay with you this summer?”

“I know kid. I wish you could, but you know how it goes. Gotta see your mum for a couple weeks.” He opened his arms and wrapped the boy in a bear hug, “Now listen, if anything happens at all call me up and I’ll wire you the money for a ticket home. I know how things go there so keep yourself safe aye?”

FLIGHT 219: Dublin to New York will be departing in 15 minutes. Please make your way to the gate for boarding.

“Now get going,” he released his son with great reluctance “cant be missing that flight. Remember call me every night. If I don’t hear from ya I’ll be coming to get ya.”

James nodded and started his walk towards the gate. A strange feeling washed over him, threatening to overwhelm him, a sense of loss…longing…he turned to see his father raising a hand in farewell. He almost ran back. “Buck up, you’re 17 not 7.” he muttered to himself as he waved back and stepped on the path to the jet. It would be a long two weeks.

The flight droned on and on. A kid behind him kept kicking his seat and crying on occasion. His headphones did what they could to drown it out and managed only to distract him half way. He thought on his parents divorce, or rather what he had been told of it. It had happened only a year after he was born, and he had been kept by his father. Ireland was his home, but the fucking courts made him visit his mother every summer. They had tried to change that on grounds of her being unfit, but some how every time she managed to be clean enough for long enough to keep it from happening. He wondered if she did it just to spite his father.

“This is your captain speaking. We’re nearing New York city and should begin our descent in about five minutes. I’ve turned the fasten seatbelt signs on so please return to your seats. If you’re on the left side of the plane, look out your window and you’ll see the statue of liberty. I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s flight and we’ll have you on the ground shortly.”

James sighed. “Fuck.”

The duffle bag on his shoulder seemed to get heavier with each step. The waiting area was just ahead and that horrible bitch would be there. It never failed, no matter how fucked up she was, she would manage to be there. “Probably to make sure I didn’t escape to a hotel for 2 weeks.” he mused to himself. As he exited the throng of people he saw her. She looked like shit. Her fried blond hair was pulled back, and her skin looked like leather. It seemed that after his dad she had gone right to hell. Then again snorting enough coke to rot your nose out would do that. She tapped some guy next to her and pointed at him. “Oh fuck me.” She had a new boyfriend it seemed. This would not end well at all.

“Well hey there kiddo. How ‘bout a hug for your mom?” James obliged grudgingly “Ello mum.” She smelled…bad. Probably hadn’t bathed for a day or two. “And this is Shawn. We’ll be staying with him.” That stopped James dead in his tracks “Seriously? Why? The fuck happened to your place?” At this Shawn puffed out his chest, squared his shoulders, and looked down at him “Something wrong with my place?” James sighed and rolled his eyes “Well since I don’t know who the hell you are I’d say so.” Shawn started to turn bright red but his mother was the one to voice up “God damn it kid, just get to the car and lets go. Cant believe you started this shit already.” The two started to walk and James shouldered his bag “Fuck.”

The car proved to be what he expected, a beat up piece of shit with beer bottles on the floor and probably needles under the seats. He decided not to check for sure. It sounded like the muffler was about to rip off in mid traffic, which he honestly would think amusing, and smelled like there was a body in the trunk. Then again…it was New York. The apartment in the city was a dive. There was no other way to describe it other than a hovel of the absolute worst kind. His stomach lurched as they passed some bitch unconscious on the floor with a bottle beside her. Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful.

“Put your shit next to the couch and try to not be a pain in the ass.” Shawn turned to his mother “Now Charlotte I think we should give the kid some time to settle in.” He began to pull her towards what James assumed to be the bedroom and she started to giggle. “Fucking Christ.” He muttered as the door shut. Giving them a couple seconds to start whatever he flipped open his cell and dialed up his dad.

“Hello?” his father answered and again that strange want hit James. He wanted to be home, wanted to see his girlfriend, wanted to go on a walk with his dad, not stuck here. “Hey pops its me.” The relief in his fathers voice was evident “Hey kid. How’s it going over there?” James snorted “Well, mum is shagging her new boyfriend, and apparently we’re staying at his hovel.” A slight smile broke on his face with his fathers response “WHAT?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? GOD DAMNIT!” After another twenty seconds his fathers breathing slowed, telling James he was calm enough to talk again “Ok kid. Tell ya what. I can get out there in about 2 or 3 days, how about I come get us a hotel and we make a vacation of it? Ya still have to see your mom, damn court order, but they never said I couldn’t be there. Think you can make it that long?” James wiped a bit at the tears that had come unbidden to his eyes “Yeah pops I can. Thanks. I’ll let ya get packing and try to not sit on any dirty needles.” Again the response was “WHAT?!?” James laughed “I’m kidding dad. Pretty sure they have those hidden.” His father seemed to be holding back his own laughter “Not funny kid. I’ll see ya in a couple. Stay safe, call me if you need me.”

James looked at his watch. The ‘happy couple’ had been in there for two hours already. Feeling particularly triumphant that his pops was coming he decided to celebrate. “Fridge raid.” However his triumph turned to horror when he opened it up. The food was molding in some spots, some of it damn near shrunken into nothingness. This was NOT what he had in mind….And then he spotted it. Beer bottles lined the inside of the door. “Well not a total loss.” Usually he wouldn’t touch the stuff, but adding insult to injury seemed like a good idea at the moment. “Lets party…”

The pair emerged another hour later to find James, sitting on the couch, feet propped up, a beer in one hand and a book in the other. “Well guys I’ve got some good news, which might also constitute bad news for ya.” His mother and Shawn looked at him confused as he took a long draw from the beer. “Well it seems you only have to put up with me for two days, maybe three.” Charlotte’s eyes went wide as the implications sunk in, “You called your father didn’t you.” James nodded “He thought it might be best if he tagged along this time. So he’ll be here in a couple days.” Charlottes knees went weak and she was forced to sit on the arm of the couch “Shawn we’ve got to get this place clean fast. I mean seriously clean.” Shawn’s face went flush “What the fuck? I just got us some stuff! I gotta get rid of it now? All cause this little bastard’s dad is coming to get him? Why the hell will he care long as the kids fine?” Charlotte shook her head “You don’t know Danny. He’ll care, and honestly Shawn, he’d break you in two.”

Shawn looked at James, triumphantly sipping his beer, and began to shake with rage. James lost his smile at once and slowly stood up. He knew that look. “You…little bastard. You just had to ruin it all. And…is that MY BEER?” He roared and launched himself at James. Charlotte screamed something, but James was too busy trying to survive to hear. He ducked the first blow, blocked the second, managed to give Shawn a shot to the nose with open palm. Blood spattered out. That was the end of his part in the fight. Shawn used his size, being 6’3”, to over power the smaller boy. He forced him to the floor and the beating began. His heavy handed fist came down on his head over and over, his nose was broken almost instantly. After a minute he was trying to just cover his head as Shawn began to kick. He felt the foot connect solidly with a kidney sending lances of pain up his side. A thought ran through James’s mind: He’s going to kill me.

Time seemed to slow as some how Shawn overshot a kick aimed at James’s head and smashed a toe into the wall. It was the only chance he had. He ramped his fist upward into the crotch of Shawn who was holding his bloodied foot. Quicker than he thought he could move he shot towards the door and tossed it open. Before he knew it he was down the stairs, and out into the street. He wasn’t sure how long he’d run, but it seemed like an eternity. Forever stretched before him as he rounded a corner and dove down an alley. He paused a moment and sat down. His head was ringing, he was bruised, cut, and who knows what else. For all he knew he could have gotten drugs in his system just from the shit that was on the floor. Blood poured from his nose. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open…

He awoke. It was cold now, dark, raining. He looked up from his gutter and things just didn’t seem right. “God I think he fucked up my eye…” He shook his head to clear it but regretted doing so instantly. A tiny light danced at the end of the alley, it seemed to beckon him to it. “The hell?” He rose shakily to his feet and walked towards the light, stumbling as he did. The light was getting closer. “How hard did he hit my head???” When the light was right in front of him he realized what it was. He blinked. Living in Ireland one heard tales of fairies all the time. His mind was making this shit for him. Brain damage. “Fucking great.” He turned and began to stumble back towards the street. “Hey kid,” a voice from behind him sounded “you want to buy some weed?” James sighed “Look asshole,” turning his voice stopped short. A creature stood before him. The legs and head of a goat, the torso of a man. “Well?” the creature said “You want some?” It extended a clawed hand with a baggie full of pot “Fifty bucks.” James turned and ran.

He bolted from the alley running full out, though how he wasn’t quite sure, and was greeted with the streets still being quite busy in the city that never sleeps. Busy…with all manner of strangeness. “What the fu…” he trailed off as a pair of, what could only be described as elves, looked over at him and laughed. He pulled the hood up on his coat and decided to keep his head down, but curiosity overwhelmed him before too long and he found himself looking at those around him. Talk about going down the god damn rabbit hole… He walked over to a small tree and leaned against it. Closing his eyes he leaned his head back against it. “The hell is going on?” He opened his eyes to find the tree staring back at him. He shot away from the thing only to bump into something. Almost crying he looked at who or what he had collided with. “Watch where you’re going!” James had read enough fantasy books to know an orc when he saw one. “Yes sir, so sorry.”

“Morning paper! Get your morning paper!” the troll was shouting which made James’s head pulse like a grenade had gone off inside. He was still in New York he was sure, but this shit…even with a head wound this was not fucking normal. At all. He spotted a diner on his side of the street and felt his wallet bump against his leg. His stomach growled at him. He walked in and the ogre cooking behind the counter shouted “Just sit where you want. Joan will be out to take your order shortly.” He walked towards a booth in at the far corner and sat looking out the window. All manner of strange creatures paraded up and down. His heart was still pounding for a tiny bit nagged in his mind. What if this is real? There are stories of this kind of thing back home…

“Well what can I get for ya?” James looked over to his waitress and his jaw dropped. She was obviously a nymph and was wearing nothing but a smile. Her silver hair cascaded over her breast obscuring them behind a silky sheet, but the rest of her pale skin was quite visible to James. He sat there slack jawed for a moment. “Well?” her musical voice rang out as she looked away from her tab. “Oh god! Who did that to you???” She pushed James to the side of the booth and sat down next to him. Before he could speak she had his head in her hands and was examining the eye that was swollen shut. “Jesus you really took a beating. Sit right there, I’ll get you some ice to put on that.” She was up and gone in a swirl of sliver hair that ended right before her perfect bum. She was a nymph after all. It was then that James became increasingly aware of his growing erection under the table. A minotaur in another booth raised a coffee cup to its snout and took a sip before picking up his paper once more.

“Its official, this day cannot possibly get any stranger.” He picked up the menu only to find the letters were not something he could read. All manners of strange symbols lined the pages, some seeming to leap out at him as important, others making his head buzz. He shut the menu just as the nymph returned. “Alright hold this to your face. You know what you want?” she handed him a cold rag wrapped around ice. James blushed slightly “I…I cant read it.” She smiled sweetly at him “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll bring you something good.”

His meal over James walked out into the strange streets again. Things were more intense some how. He could feel…something stirring amidst the world. “No!” A muffled cry caught his attention down yet another alley and against his better judgment, James decided to investigate. Sounds of a light struggle behind a dumpster rose to greet him as he walked deeper in. Two goblins held an elf woman against the brick wall of a building, while a third sorted through her purse. The noticed him. “Walk away kid.” James planted his feet. The world stirred. “Fine,” the one sorting through the purse started to walk towards him drawing a long knife from behind his back “looks like you picked the wrong short cut kid.” As before time seemed to slow of its own accord. James simply stepped to the side and pulled the knife from the goblins hand. It was almost too easy. He rammed the knife into the goblins stomach once, twice, three times before letting him fall to the ground. After all it was only goblins, and everyone knew goblins were trash. The two holding the elf took one look at the display and started to run. James sent the knife spinning through the air, end over end, and it landed perfectly in ones back. All too easy. He looked around for the elf woman but she was long gone. He shrugged, it scared him slightly how he was getting used to all of this. He’d probably find himself in the nut house in no time.

Wondering back out into the flow of pedestrian traffic as if nothing happened was surprisingly easy. No one was gawking at him or shouting about goblin dead. Maybe I’m just really really stoned and haven’t woken up yet. The musing comforted him to some degree that he’d be able to wake up and tell his dad about this crazy dream he had while unconscious. Night was coming to an end, the sky had taken on that dark shade of blue that could only mean the sun was not far off. That was when he noticed it. Rising up from amidst the other buildings and skyscrapers of New York was a tower he had never seen before. A compulsion rose with in him. It was more than curiosity to see the structure, it was a burning need that seemed to take him over completely. It was quite a ways off, but he began a steady trot towards it without hesitation.

He was drawing close and as he did so his heart began to pump wildly. The urge for it had all but consumed him and it was maddening. He bumped into orcs, pushed past trolls and elves alike, nothing mattered but the tower. Dryads leaned out from trees watching him with rapt anticipation. The sun, now risen into the sky, was hot and sweat dripped from his brow. A small kobold blocked his path, he tried to side step, but it moved to block him again. He could see the towers base now, he was so close! Frustrated he grabbed the tiny creature and tossed it off to the side, and broke into a run. He was heedless to the shouts and stares, unconcerned with the screech of tires and crunching metal. The tower! He approached a large set of double doors, his breath making his chest rise and fall in rapid succession. It was inlaid with more of those strange symbols, but no longer did they make his head buzz…now they simply seemed to wait for him to understand. Without hesitation or fear he pushed open the doors and set his feet upon the path leading inside.

The inside was far larger than he had expected and everywhere all manners of creatures watched silently. It was as if someone had taken every creature, beautiful and horrible, from the fairy tales and put them in one room. There was a narrow path, unobstructed by creatures, leading to a small silver pedestal with a book atop it. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood next to it, her dress a gray silk fell about her like water, and long white hair cascaded down either side of her face. Her violet eyes stared at him intensely and she beckoned him forward. He walked slowly towards her, his breath becoming more even with each step. A golden quill lay next to the book. “Will you sign it?” the woman asked in a voice that was far too musical to be anything human. Without a word he took up the pen and opened the book. It was blank inside but he got the feeling it was not empty. Slowly he dipped the tip of the quill in a small well of ink. His breath caught in his throat. It was like molten silver and seemed to glow as he touched it to the page. He scrawled out his name. James A. McConnell. The world changed.

James looked about. It was all gone. The creatures, the tower, all of it. Gone. He was standing in an empty lot, his hand formed as if holding something not there. “What the fuck…” Understanding began to dawn as he felt…different. Something had changed within him, and thus had changed the world. His vision began to blur. James collapsed unconscious.

Several hours later…

Danny ran down the steps of the airport and hailed a cab. He had only brought a backpack with a single change of clothes after the hospital called. Someone had found James unconscious in an abandoned lot and had called 911. He had been rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital where they had found the contact information in his wallet and called him. Beneath the sickening worry was a budding fury over what had happened to his son. Someone would pay. “Mount Sinai, and make it fast. An extra 20$ if we get there in five minutes.” The cabbie nodded and shot off along the streets.

“I’m sorry Mr. McConnell. Your son is in a coma and we have no idea if he will wake. Even if he does he may be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life. He was just extraordinarily lucky he was found when he was else I think he would be dead right now. Whoever beat up your son caused internal bleeding and swelling of the brain.” Danny sat down, shock, anger, loss, confusion. They all roared at him at once. “Thank you doctor. I…I think I need to take a walk.” The doctor nodded, “We have your cell number and you’ll be called if there is any change. For what its worth I’m sorry.” Numb, Danny walked out of the hospital into the warm July air. He knew what he had to do. James had written down the address of where he was staying on a small piece of paper and stuffed it in his wallet. “Clever boy.”

“No,” Danny said pointing off to the side “let me see that one, the one with the pistol grip.” The pawn shop owner handed him the shotgun and glanced at his tv, “You hear about this? Some lunatic grabbed a kid on the sidewalk and threw him into traffic. No reason, just tossed him out in front of a cab. Poor kid. Anyway you got a permit? And…” The pawn owner trailed off as Danny started counting out $100’s, “$500 for the gun, slugs, and no questions.” The owner looked about to make sure no one else was in the store, “Deal.”

This was it. The run down shit hole of a building in which his son had been so savagely beaten. He walked up the stairs inside. They lived on the 3rd floor. He stepped over a passed out woman, the needle still in her arm. He was cold inside. His son might never wake up. He slipped the gun out from under his coat, shells already in the chamber. A man opened his door, took one look at Danny plodding slowly towards the end of the hall, and shut it again. A deadbolt turned. None here would call the cops till after the shooting stopped. Number 326. This was it. He could hear shuffling inside, muffled voices. He knocked. The door opened and a rather large man looked at him puzzled. “Who the hell are you? You aint Terrence.” The man had 3 inches on him, but was grossly out of shape. Danny smiled and pushed the shotgun against his stomach, “No, I’m not. Inside.”

“Shawn? Who is it? You selling that shit so we can get out of here or what?” The voice from the bed room Danny knew well. His ex wife, the drug addict who allowed her son to be beat almost to death. Danny turned the dead bolt locking the door behind him. “Shawn? We gotta get the fuck outta here before Danny gets into town so hurry up with that! Shawn?” Charlotte exited the bedroom and her eyes went wide. Danny smiled “Been a long time love. You look like shit. Now sit down next to your lover boy there.” She did as she was told, silently….eyes full of fear. Danny moved around in front of her, “Now,” Danny began to shake with rage and a tear ran down his face “our son is in the hospital, in a coma. He might never wake up and was just lucky he didn’t die.” He looked at Shawn and leveled the gun, “Give me one reason I shouldn’t blow your fucking brains all over your couch.” Shawn began to stutter, trying so hard to come up with an excuse, or a reason, that would soothe this angry father, yet all the while he knew it was hopeless. Danny’s eyes were dead.

Danny listened to Shawn for the first couple of seconds then something happened. Everything changed in the span between seconds. It wasn’t just fury, it was righteous fury. An angel had literally touched his shoulder with a flaming sword, as if ordaining and knighting him right there. Shawn droned on. Danny smiled. He pulled the trigger.

Charlotte screamed as a quarter of Shawn’s head, around the right eye, disappeared in a deafening roar and gore. Danny was breathing evenly, not even shaken as he looked at her, “Our son. You never loved him, but to let him be so savagely beaten, to let him run around the city on his own…you…you…” he trailed off and sighed “You have been judged. God has found you wanting. I am his angel, and Im James’s retribution.” Charlotte began to cry “Please Danny there was nothing I could do! Please! DON’T! You still love me! You always have! PLEASE DANNY!!!! I’ll get clean I swear!!!” Danny just shook his head, “No, I don’t, and no…you wont.” He pulled the trigger again.

Danny walked outside, no doubt the sirens would be coming soon. He lit a cigarette. He hadn’t smoked in ages but now seemed like as good a time as any to enjoy it a little. A black car pulled up right in front of him and a man in a suite stepped out from the passenger side, “Cops already? Well I wont put up a fight.” The man smiled “We’re not the police Mr. McConnell. We know what happened to you up there, we felt it. We can explain. What’s more we know the same sort of thing also happened or is happening to your son. We can help.” He opened the door to the back seat for Danny, “You will come to no harm. Please come with us.” Danny swallowed hard and looked up towards the apartment window. “Don’t worry about that Mr. McConnell, we’ll take care of it.” Danny got into the car, shotgun across his lap, “Who are you people?” The man in the suite smiled down at him “We’re Guardians Mr. McConnell. This is what we do. Leave it at that for now.”

3 years 7 months 22 days later…

James opened his eyes. Bright lights above him, an oxygen tube in his nose. He coughed slightly. “James????” His father came into view “My god! We didn’t want to wake you in case you were still having your Awakening! We had to wait for you to come to on your own, and then last night they said your signs were changing and I’ve been here…Oh god son there is so much to tell you so much to discuss! Plenty of time for that later, lets see about getting you some real food or something. Hey Myth he’s awake!” James looked at his father as if he had grown a second head, a woman came into view with bright red hair and when she spoke it was with an Irish accent. “Danny easy. The boy has just had an ordeal. Love, lets give him a bit of time.” James cocked an eye brow and spoke “Love? God what the hell….Well at least you arent orcs…” Danny smiled “We’ll talk soon James. Promise.”

Danny handed his son a pint and looked lovingly at the red head Myth. James blinked “So that’s it then eh? Wow. Just. Wow. Really?” Danny nodded “Myth here did some research. It seems that Mages run in our bloodline. As far back as the Crusades at least. We’ll start training soon, but for now…I’ve missed you boy.” James smiled and drank a bit of the pint, “Well,” he smiled “when do we start?”

Description:
James is about 5’10 with dark brown, almost black, hair that is worn a bit shaggy and long. His skin is what one would expect of an Irishman. Usually he wears plain black t shirts, khaki cargo pants, and hiking boots. He weights around 155 and its almost all muscle. After his coma he took to physical activity with a vigor. His eyes are a mixture of green and brown. Usually he is clean shaven, but its not rare to have a 3 day scruff going.

Concept: A young relic hunter trying to make his way in the awakened world.


Fri Jul 09, 2010 5:22 pm
Profile

Joined: Fri Jul 09, 2010 4:47 pm
Posts: 10
Post Re: Random Writing
Note: This was my profile for a pair of characters whom were sisters. Things might fade in and out as they were covered in the other.

Lost in Fae: A Deadly Dance
Character Profile: "Bloody" Claire

What was my life before? Hell at this point Im not even sure I can remember. You know everyone says that…they prattle on about “This was the moment that changed my life.” Idiots. Sure life changes, it evolves, events make or break you. For me, it made me…almost destroyed me. For my sister, it cracked her mind. In the end it made us, but are we more or less? I don’t know. I don’t know if I ever will. The Fae does that to you…changes you. Not just you, but the world for you. Reality is nothing but a cheap façade. Made and broken. Just like a mind. Does fear rule you? Or does it make you more…so much more.

My name…as far as I can remember, is Claire. To the Changelings I am ‘Bloody’ Claire. With good reason. I honestly don’t know how or even where to begin. I guess I’ll just…begin. I was 24, just out of college and life was good. Fuck yes it was great.

“Sis you doin ok?” Claire pranced over to her sister smiling as she sipped her drink. They were twins in every sense of the word. Fair skin, black hair, but the eyes was the difference. Claire’s eyes were a vivid ice blue, where as her sisters were very green. “Ugh,” her sister replied glancing up with slightly blood shot eyes “how you can still spin, and prance, after drinking that much is beyond me.” Claire frowned slightly and sat down in the crowded bar next to her sister, “You want to go home lovely? Too much and too late?” Her sister nodded and let her pretty head drop down into her hands “Why does the world spin quite so fast?” Claire laughed and slipped an arm under her, “Come on bitch we’re gonna get you home while you’re still conscious.”

Outside Claire stood, her short skirt and fishnets still drawing whistles, even with her some what hung over sister hanging off her. A cab stopped and she pushed her sister in, then climbed in after her. Much to the displeasure of her 3 dancing partners whom had followed her out to see what was going on. “No,” her sister tried to protest “don’t worry. Go have fun.” Claire only smiled at her and turned to the cab driver, “Start driving, I’ll give you the address in a sec.” She turned back to her sister, “I can always come back. Once you’re tucked in I’ll decide.”

The cab ride was uneventful. A few turns, a few lights, one homeless man washing car windows for change. And then they arrived, Claire pulled her sister from the cab, paid him, and helped her up the stairs. Once inside she pulled back the covers and tucked her sister in. She kicked off her boots and dropped down beside her, the night catching up and exhaustion setting in. Before drifting off to sleep Claire smiled “Ya owe me bitch. They were hot.”

Morning dawned, far too early, and Claire had to leave for work. God how she hated her work. Before leaving though she set a pot of coffee to brew and left a note next to it:

Got work. Hope the head doesn’t pop haha. You owe me one, I’ll call later.

Work was dull. She had graduated college the semester before with a degree in photography and dance, but instead of starting her life properly, she was working this dead end job at a cd store. Music she did indeed love. Customers though. Customers she loathed from the deepest pit of her heart. She whipped out her cell and hammed out a quick text to her sisters cell: You owe me lol. Pick you up at 730 or 8. Be rdy. Just another few hours of work…

Work ended quickly enough and Claire set herself to getting ready. Fishnets, knee high boots, a red skirt, and a black corset. Like a demonic little school girl. Perfect. It was time to rock the fuck out. She hailed a cab and went to get her sister.

The concert was going well. A little grunge metal band that they could spin and jump and crash to. It was great. Her sister was having fun, and she had met quite the guy…he was keeping up with her which was rare indeed. He had even jokingly called her the ‘Fairest of them all’. She had giggled. It was sweet. Claire swirled away from her boy toy towards her sister who was head banging like a pro. “Glad you’re having a good time!” she shouted as she felt arms around her waist. She glanced over to see the boy smiling and kissed him for his efforts. It was going to be a rather good night it seemed.

“Im going to take of dear.” Claire pouted at her sister “You sure? I mean I probably will stay out a bit longer. He’s rather cute…” Claire’s sister shook her head. She knew what that usually meant. To this Claire laughed “Fine fine. Go home and I’ll call in the morning?” Her sister nodded and walked towards the corner to hail a cab. Claire waited till she was in said cab before turning back to her boy. “So handsome,” she looked up through those dark locks of hair “know some where a little more quiet tonight?” He smiled, “Yeah. I think you’ll like it my little Dancer.”

Claire shivered a little. It was cold out tonight. “How much further cutie? This is starting to get a little creepy.” She laughed. He looked over his shoulder “Trust me. We get to the center of this garden it’s the most beautiful place in the world.” He kept telling her he was taking her to a ‘garden’ and they were indeed in some sort of little garden maze. However…something didn’t feel right. Claire kept having the feeling she was being watched. “You sure? Couldn’t we just go back to your place?” He stopped and turned “We are. And we are there. Welcome my beautiful dancer. You are not for me, but for one with whom I deal.” Claire pulled a small can of mace from her purse. This had gone too far “Fuck off.” She turned to leave, to run. And her mind blurred. The horrors began.

She was being drug. Through thorns, bushes, flowers, sunshine, water…her mind was blurring all together.

“Agreed.” Claire awoke, her head hurt. The world was bright. So bright her eyes couldn’t adjust. “Ah the pet awakes.” Someone came into view and leaned close. She blinked. She hadn’t done X in a long time, and acid only once. This was fucked up. “Oh don’t worry pet. We’ll have fun. Well. I will.” It was a female voice…but something was wrong. Then it began and she screamed.
Time no longer held meaning. My memories of this are fleeting, broken, shattered and fevered. I remember bits though. It is what gives me more strength. Ever opened memory is a door to powers I’ve seen. I remember the pleasure. Oh god I’ve never known such pleasure. Orgasms that lasted for days, that brought ones heart to the bring and then turned to pain. Pain that wracked the body for what seemed like forever. Beds of roses turning into hot embers. Ribbons braided into one’s hair only to become snakes. Wine turning to blood. The blood then boiling. All for the amusement of our dread masters. I say OUR because I was not the only one. There were many. All of us taken and broken…or mostly broken. A rare few hold onto themselves, but that is dangerous for if they know you are still you. You die. You must be theirs and bury you deep down. This is what I did. When I thought it safe I would chant to myself “Your name is Claire and you have a sister.” The only parts of my life that meant anything. Me and her. Would she notice I was gone? She would. Would it matter? I couldn’t think on this.

Once I was broken I was remade. My lady was a lover of light, of sun. Dark was not of her court. Thus, my hair that was once black was turned to a pale blond. My lovely blue eyes, turned to the color of liquid gold. My skin bleached to as pale as it could be. These changes pleased my lady. She reshaped my ears to resemble hers. So proud of her work she was. Slightly longer than a humans and pointed. Elven. I was made beautiful to the court for her pleasure. And I was taken to her bed for her pleasure. When she was done remaking me she wished to sample of her prowess. It was as much pain as it was pleasure. And last of her changes. I was made to dance. A beautiful Dancer for her pleasure.

I remember how and when my status changed. When I became a Dancer of Death for my lady. It was a party and I was dancing in my crystal cage. My lady had put forth her champion to fight an Ogre for amusement. This happened often at her parties. Each Fae Lord or Lady who came brought a champion or beast. They would pit them against each other. Just as old Rome once did. He was good, but the Ogre was better. He swung his sword and the Ogre caught it with open hand. Literally caught the blade. A moment later the hammer came down. Again literally. The champion was no more at that point but a stain.

“Oh dear!” I heard my lady exclaim with more laughter than disappointment. “My lords and ladies. Would you permit me to enter one more of my pets?” All were in agreement that it would be quite amusing. However one of the Lords spoke up, cloaked in shadows and darkness, a rarity scene in the court of my lady. “However my dear. I wish to choose.” My lady nodded. I kept dancing, but watched as he slowly circled the room with his eyes. They came to rest on me. “That one. Your pretty little Dancer you keep in that delightful crystal cage.” I froze in mid dance. My Keeper laughed “I think she heard you dear. Oh yes lets have her! Come pet!”

The cage opened and I walked and knelt by my lady. I was clothed in only white saffron about my breast and a flowing white dress made of simple strands. The Ogre was armored from the waist down and displayed his heavily muscled upper torso with pride. I was rife with terror. “Come pet. Its only sporting we’ll let you chose a weapon of the Fae just as the others have.” I was brought to a small table and all manner of weapons were displayed before me. Daggers, swords, chains, flails, a hammer, an axe…but no all were too much. My eyes came to rest on a short spear, much like the Assegai used by the Zulu warriors. Of course it had a much more Fae like manner, but it was light, quick, and could kill. I rested my hand upon it, picked it up, tested its swing. “Good pet. Now go die for me. If you manage to live I’ll give you a small treat.” Part of me soared at such attention. Part of me longed for death. But that small part, deep within, the true me…it said “Kill.”

I entered the ring. My wrist twisted this way and that weaving my weapon to and fro, still coming used to its feel. The Ogre laughed and saluted his lord with his hammer. He laughed still as I sprinted at him. Beckoned me with a hand, readied the hammer. I leapt into the air as I neared and he started to swing. He thought I would go for his vitals, I did not. His hand with the hammer. The tip of the spear sheared through bone and flesh. Four fingers fell to the ground as did the hammer. His blow did not land and I curled into a ball as I hit and rolled. He screamed. I was up before he could turn and leapt again striking out. The blow landed true, passing just under his skull severing his spine and exiting the throat. Blood spurted out as he fell and I tucked and rolled again. Coming up I breathed barely heavy and I still held my weapon.

“Oh my!” my Keeper exclaimed, actually excited that her pet had actually not failed. The others remained silent and then began to laugh. “Oh she’s so proud!” one exclaimed “Look at her: all bloody!” another. Amidst the laughter and delight a voice rose “Lets see her against my wolf.” Before the laughter had even died a thorn wolf, bigger than I had ever seen rushed into the ring and at me. Something deep within me took over and I knew just what to do. The wolf wasted no time charging at me full speed. It leapt hoping to drag me down under its weight. Once it was airborne and nearly upon me I stepped to the side and brought the spear up with both hands. It sheared through its throat. Blood poured out. As it landed bleeding I stepped behind and brought the spear down again. The head came free.

My lady beckoned me over and I went still holding my weapon. “You’ve done very well my pet. You may go up to my chamber and wait for me.” I went, having to set the weapon aside as I did, and I wept there alone. I knew that the torture of my existence was not about to end, but only change. New horrors would lay in store. I would forever be her play thing. When finally she came up I was awake and nude, waiting for her as I knew to be. She was pleased and I pleased her most of the night. She rewarded me with a blinding mix of pain and pleasure. This was to be my reward when I succeeded and won, death if I failed. I was the new Champion of my Lady.

The court was in joyous uproar at the rather abrupt change of pace the party had taken. It was not often things were made exciting for them beyond what they expected. The next day or…whatever it was I was again in my crystal cage, but instead of the white gossamer my garb was quite different and stood out in the court. The first layer was of close fitting but flowing black silk. The second a slightly heavier, more flowing, robe of some black material I could not identify. From the hem to the hips the gown was split by 4 slits. The final layer was a blood red sash that was bound tight about my waist and half way up my ribs; it held the flowing garment close to me. Beauty, mobility, deception, and danger all in one. For the first time in the Fae lands…I smiled.

Battles came and went. It was easy for me, just an extension of my dance. Too easy a human mind might think, but at this point I was hardly human any more. I was tested daily by my Lady. Servants willingly and gladly threw their lives away at the point of my short little spear. Each death honed me. My precision grew, my speed, agility, and timing. I was becoming something far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Not just a killer, but as my sister had once been…an artist.

“My Lords and Ladies! I am so very pleased you could make it to this little gathering!” My Lady was talking, she was announcing what I already knew was to be coming. I was to fight. “If you remember last time we gathered, my little dancing pet quite surprised and entertained us!” Murmurs from the Fae. They remembered. “Well my little pet has been practicing and I believe shall entertain us again tonight! She will at least not go quietly!” The Fae were laughing. At me. They expected me to die. Rage boiled inside, but not a fire that would make me foolish. A boiling black death. “Ladies and Lords, I present my Champion!” The crystal cage around me unlocked its self and I walked into the ring to polite applause. I vowed then to make them cheer before the night ended.

My opponent was a Draconic. This was going to be….for lack of a better word horrible. He held a wicked axe in each hand and flared his wings at me. A taunt but also a slight glimmer of respect in his eyes. It would be a battle of wounds. We began. I surged forward, but stopped shorter than he had expected. His axes whistled through the air as he spun, using the momentum to bring him back around to face me. I was already moving, my spear spinning in my hand as I rushed. I caught his left and right hands both in the savage assault, but earned a rending kick to the ribs for my effort. It sent me flying. I heard the little claps. The knowing murmurs. I rolled with the momentum. I wasn’t bleeding, I wasn’t broken, I was winded. The Draconic however had his own problems. My blade had cut perfectly into each hand and he found holding his weapons a bit too hard. Unfortunately he still had claws. With a leap and stroke of his wings he closed the distance too fast for me to dodge. His claws raked out meaning to tear my head off. I threw myself onto my back and avoided the death blow, but still three gouged into my face. Blood flowed. His milky white, mine a deep red. I rolled and we broke apart, circling each other once I was on my feet, each more wary of the other now.

We respected each other now. I knew his strength and savagery. He knew my speed…and knew that when it came down to it he would lose. I saw it in his eyes. He would fight hard, but lose. We rushed at each other. I ducked, wove, tumbled. With each evasion I slashed, poked, jabbed. With in little time he bled from a dozen or more light wounds, and at least two serious ones. The milky white liquid was pouring out and making the floor slick. My face still bled, my ribs ached, and my left arm was raked fairly badly. I saw him slip a little, his eyes going wide knowing that was it. I was upon him before he’d even finished stumbling. My blade sought his throat and cleaved through it like a warm knife in cold butter. He gurgled and I sought to end his suffering as quickly as possible. His head came free with two more quick strikes. I grabbed it up and held it aloft in my bloodied hand, my spear in the other. They cheered. Rearing back I tossed the head into the crowd. They surged up and roared approval.

My memories blur again. There were other fights, but they don’t stand out. Each was dire peril I am sure, but I cant remember. My crystal cage became much larger as my Lady favored me more and more. I had not only a bed now, but room to dance, practice, and stretch. All the time though I was on display for a random Fae Lord or Lady who wished to view the Dancer of Death as I was known some times. Above all I shared the bed of my Lady more often than not. The pleasure was greater, the pain lesser. Neither was very pleasant to the mind even if the body soared. Always when alone I’d chant, “I am Claire, I have a sister.” The chant was meaning very little at that point, more of habit than anything else. Very few fights stand out. My first, the Draconic, and my last.

It was to be my last fight for my Lady. My brilliant beautiful Lady. I dare say if I had remained much longer I would have loved her. This party was to be special. I was to fight a wizened old soldier who was a part of some standing army of an ally. We had both been told before hand. No surprises, no laughter, only a dim murmur in the court. They knew this would be a sight to see for sure. We entered the ring and observed one another.

He was heavily scarred for sure, a victor in many battles of the Fae. His mail was dark, a buckler on his left hand, a bastard sword in his right. He saluted. I returned it with grim respect. Our dance began. We tested each other slowly, a stroke from him easily evaded, a jab from me easily blocked. I paid dearly for one of my testing attacks when he suddenly went offensive. His blade crossed my face, below my eyes, across the bridge of my nose. If I had been slower I would be dead. I danced away, blood pouring down my face. It hurt so much. I couldn’t give in though, I pushed the pain aside. Rage fueled me now. I launched at him with a series of attacks. The onslaught surprised him and he went completely defensive. His shield blocked my spear, his sword held like a guard at his right side. He should have attacked. I was open in all my fury at being so marked. One strike to the middle I would be skewered. Yet he didn’t strike, he defended hoping to tire me. I drove my knee into his groin…we were ever so close at that point. Once, twice, and as I went for the third his shield came down. My knee slammed into it, and oh how it hurt, but he was exposed and the tip of my spear slashed out. It caught him from the tip of his hairline to the corner of the opposing eye. The butt of my spear struck his nose. I danced back.

He was fumbling. Trying to quickly wipe the spurt of blood from his eyes. I had taken a moment to gauge the situation and I knew what needed to be done. He swung wildly as I approached. It was simple with him blind. I stepped in after a back hand swing and drove the point of my spear forward. It entered around the tip of his nose, up between his brows, and deep into his skull. He twitch once….twice….as he fell, and I rode him down driving all the way. Blood splashed out. He was fallen by my hand. The Fae were silent, a rarity indeed, but only for a moment before the roar of pleased applause sounded.

My reward was my wound healed, though the scar remained. I was allowed to return to my cage, my weapon placed on its stand not ten feet from the cage. My guards were many, more to prevent retribution than my escape. Fools. I wanted to rest. Death does take a lot out of one. However rest did not come. Unexpected, unbidden, and at first moment unwelcome…my sister did.

A darkling approached, fair but shadow, and rapped upon my cage. My glance was of uncaring disinterest. I didn’t want some little half Fae bitch near me. She professed herself my sister. It got my attention but not how she wanted. I nearly tried to kill her right there. Her plea, her explanation, her arguments…they moved me little. However in desperation she forced her mask away. The eyes. Shockingly green, full of hope, love, a chance. Did I believe? I don’t know. All I knew was I finally had a way out. “Free me.” I said and her slender hands produced a key which slid neatly into the lock. It clicked. My guards shouted. I smiled and went for my weapon.

Fifteen seconds. That was all it took once I had my spear in hand to kill every guard in the room with a single, precise, strike. My sister, however, at either the act of actually freeing me or the carnage before her was now of little use. If discovered I would be punished, maybe killed. That would not suffice. “Obey me.” I commanded her and she mutely nodded. I grabbed her wrist and we fled…not with stealth, but cutting a bloody path out. No true Fae tried to stop us. I rather think that they were more entertained to send minions after us and see if we could make it. It blurs a little after that for it was a flight of blood. All who came before us to stop us died. We found the hedge, found our way through the hedge, through the hobgoblins, through the nasty creatures sent to stop us. We escaped and when finally we burst through that point and the real world was beneath our feet….I wept.

We were discovered by a few Changelings whom had sensed our escape some how, or perhaps had been looking for those like us. Its how I earned my name. Bloody Claire. When they found us, you see, I was literally soaked with the blood of the Fae creatures. They tried to touch me. I would not allow it, though now I know they meant well and only to clean me of any wounds. I don’t like to be touched. I don’t like to speak. Most call me an introvert due to my experiences. They are right, but I don’t care. Its too much. Too many dark things touched me as I cut my way through them. My sister was there though. Touching me always, keeping me driven.

Those Changelings that found us, set us up with a nice apartment and some how paid for it until we could actually go out into the world. Well…until my sister could. I rather like it inside most of the time. So much time passed, so much was lost in the Fae. Ten or so years I understand it…

Claire trailed off in her tale and looked over at her sister. The dark beauty stood there smiling, crazy as ever, but her perfect compliment. Claire looked down at the Changeling who was tied to the chair in front of her, duct tape over his mouth. “You see,” she said “the Changelings that found us also were able to provide just loads of information once we managed to discuss our Fetch.” Claire smiled and reached out with a tentative finger, brushing the changelings chin. She shuddered. “Small steps yes? But yes they did a bit of digging and found out that over the past ten years or so most of the loyalist have been killed off around where we were taken. Not you though.” Claire shuddered with pleasure and anticipation. “So tell me…was helping snatch my poor artist sister worth it? Was sticking around once you heard of us getting out?” Claire pulled the wicked short spear that had served as her escape from the Fae. It had been concealed in the folds of her garments. “Beautiful isn’t it?” Her eyes lit up slightly. “I am Bloody Claire, member of the Autumn Court. Feared I was and feared I am. You are sentenced to death.” The spear flashed out and sank deep.

The Autumn twins have come with the changing of seasons, with the blowing of leaves. Beautiful and terrible to behold. Light and night. As the seasons change, the world turns, and the twins weave their beautiful nightmare.


Fri Jul 09, 2010 5:26 pm
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Joined: Fri Jul 09, 2010 4:47 pm
Posts: 10
Post Re: Random Writing
The Truth & Lie
Character Profile: Emily Worthington (Hex)

Light cascaded down over my face, my body, broken by green leaves that twisted in the wind. I felt the warmth, heard the rustling of branches on the summer wind. Not a bad way to die. Not after what I had endured. A bird cawed at me from a branch. I drifted. I was broken, slipping away onto that warm breeze. Death was welcome. The bird cawed again, this time right next to my ear. There was strength in the caw, an earnest beckon. I opened my eyes. I was not dead, in fact I had never been so alive. I looked over at the bird as it watched with all too intelligent eyes. It hopped upon my outstretched hand.

These are my first moments as a Mage, my first moments as one of the elite Awakened. I suppose this would only make sense if I told what lead up to this moment. I was born in London, my mother died in birth, my father took his life soon after. Those are the easy parts. Some say the Awakening takes an entire life time, and to do credit I should tell my life’s tale. Perhaps they are right, but with most Awakenings it is a catalyst, a moment, that thrusts us into our new lives. There was no horrible family for me, I was an orphan until I was 6. Then I was found by an aunt and uncle from my mothers side and taken in. They were kind, if a bit strict. They gave me room and space, let me do what I wished within reason. When I was 19 they let me travel to New York to visit friends. I guess that is where the story truly begins…

The plane touched down without incident and I stumbled down the ramp on cramped legs. My tussled punk rock hair a bit flat in the back, my piercing itching slightly. I looked about the lobby and saw a huge sign with pink and black lettering “WELCOME EMILY!!!” My friends shouted and pounced on me, a pile of girls screaming their heads off. It was a nice welcome, Dave lowered the sign giving me a warm hug. These were my mates and we were finally together again. Ruth and Darla barely gave me room to breathe as Dave hailed a cab. For one of the few times I felt like I belonged again. As we rode to their flat I stared out the window at the huge buildings. It was so unlike London…so new, so modern, no history to speak of. The smells were both pleasant and disgusting. Wafts of expensive restaurants mingled with scents of trash. I honestly didn’t know what to make of it. “Em,” Dave turned in the front seat and smiled at me “we’re here love. Lets grab your bags.” The cab had come to a stop and I blushed, my pale London skin flushing a deep crimson. I’d always had a thing for Dave, but he was a good gent. Wouldn’t snog his sisters friend. I shouldered a bag and moved slowly towards the building following Ruth. This would be home for the next 6 months. I couldn’t have been more pleased.

The squared me away in Ruth’s room with a nice little blow up bed against the wall. Couldn’t complain it was a cozy enough set up. “So,” Ruth turned to me, her streaked hair flailing about “if ya bring anyone to shag, you can use the bed just change the sheets after.” I blushed furiously and Ruth laughed “Well that answers the other question. Guess you and Dillon didn’t work out eh? Still got that cherry problem.” I blushed even a more furious shade of crimson and gave her a shove “I wouldn’t call it a problem, just cause I have opened my legs for the first tosser to show interest. Who knows maybe I’ll finally get to jump on Dave.” Ruth arched her eyebrow at me but the corners of her lips twitched upwards in a smile, “Just don’t let Darla catch ya. She’d be convinced that her brother seduced her best friend and would be right pissed.” I winked and flopped down onto the cozy airbed. “Im still on London time, gimme ten to sleep and we’ll grab some dinner.”

The first two weeks passed without incident. It was a flurry of food, clubs, diners, restaurants, movies, bars, and friends. We went everywhere together and Dave started to actually pay attention for once. Good guy, just a bit slow on catching on it seemed. He was the unofficial protector of these three young women and always kept a bit of a watchful eye out. Darla told me that Dave had been doing some really serious training and was apparently quite adept at breaking things. In the two years they had been in New York, only one mugger had come at them. He had brandished a knife and Dave was on the guy before he could blink. “Snapped the bastards arm nearly in half,” Darla bragged as Dave blushed “I don’t think the guy even saw ‘em comin.” Dave seemed to be pointedly ignoring us but every so often his eyes drifted to me. I even caught his gaze once and winked. It was fun watching him blush. If I had known what would soon transpire I would have jumped him right then and there. Ignorance is bliss I suppose.

We found ourselves at a night club that suited us perfectly. Dark, rhythmic beats, like the drums of some dark hunt. It stirred something within me, perhaps that truly was the beginning, but in any case we were drawn to it like moths to a flame. We danced the night away, Ruth and Darla toyed with a few of the boys in the club, but I danced with Dave. I knew that tonight would be the night and so did he. We watched each other, moved together, against one another. The crowd was swirling with the beat, I couldn’t see Ruth or Darla by then but I didn’t care. I had him in my grasp…and then I was torn away. A couple guys who had too much to drink I suppose decided this pale little rocker was their play toy. They pulled me away and I was between them as they tried to dance. “Thanks but no thanks.” I went to move, and they blocked me again. “Hey,” Dave my savior had come “she said no thanks guys, just let her by and Ill buy ya a drink.” They laughed and pretended not to hear. I could see just a subtle change in Dave that he wasn’t having any of it. He snagged one by the hair and pulled him to the side. I caught his other hand as he dragged me to the door. “I think we should go. I’ll text Ruth and D once we get a cab and have em come out.” I didn’t argue.

We made it outside without incident but that was about as far as we got. The two stumbled out before a cab showed. Two, followed by six more. Dave pushed me behind him and I felt something…like a tingle running up my spine and neck, and Dave went at them faster than I could track. He dropped one, then two before the others could react. Something happened, a bat came out of nowhere and I heard a *thunk* as it smashed into my savior. He crumpled to the ground. I should have run away. I ran to his side. I tried to scream but a hand clamped over my mouth, and a sharp blow struck my head. I faded to black.

I remember little of what transpired next, only fragments come to me now. I was in a van and my pants were down. One of those bastards had his fingers inside me. I struggled, fought, my nails reached out and raked his face. I could feel the blood on my finger tips and he banged my head into the floor. Blackness.

I woke, my hands were tied back, and I felt a pain that I’d never had before. My virginity was gone, taken in a cruel moment of rape. Not by one, but many. They were taking turns with me over and over again. I fought the bonds. A boot came down on my face, once…twice…and blackness took me.

I woke, but not in the van…not in the world I knew. An endless jungle stretched out around me in all directions. I shook slightly. “What the fuck?” It was light out, and there was a heavy mist still. Humidity and heat drenched me. Birds of all sorts called out in the treetops. I felt fine, but some how knew that time was not on my side. I moved to the closest tree and began to climb. I needed to see where I was. Thankfully I was wearing pants and not the leather miniskirt I had considered. As I reached the top I nearly lost my footing with a gasp. A great tower was the only visible structure. It stretched out of the jungle and reached towards the sky for what seemed to be an eternity. “Hello?!?” I shouted. “Can anyone help me????” The birds went silent. I cursed my stupidity. If I was in a fucking jungle then there would be predators about. Not the greatest thing to be doing. Somewhere close a raven cawed. It landed right in front of my face and cawed loudly. I laughed and it seemed to be offended at this. “So…you’re going to help?” It cawed again and bobbed its black head up and down. I began to climb down and it flew to the jungle floor. It hopped and flew a little ways forward before looking back at me. “Follow?” It cawed and I walked.

The raven led me on for what seemed like an eternity. We walked through streams, over twisted roots, through thorn thickets, and all the way we were followed, stalked by the predators of the Wild. Night was beginning to fall, the shadows were growing long, and I knew that if we did not reach the tower before full night fell that we would be dead. Nothing would survive in this jungle. Just as the sun dipped out of view, the last rays of light were dying, we came upon it. A pair of great stone doors stood open and inside I could see a single fire burned. Through those doors we walked, striving to reach the fire. The stone doors shut behind my little bird and I with barely a sound. In front of a great pit, from which the flames roared forth, stood a single stone pillar with a book atop it. I stopped to gaze upon it, only to find all the pages were blank. A sharp quill stood off to the side but no ink in the well. I looked about the walls and found my gaze pulled upwards. I could see up through the top of the tower, though I knew not how as night had fallen. At its peak a I could almost make out a book that mirrored the one now in front of me. Upon the walls were drawings, like the cave paintings found in ancient times, hand prints scattered here and there. Something primal took hold of me. I grabbed the sharp quill in my left hand and drove the point into my palm. I rubbed the fresh blood across till it coated my hand completely…and I pressed it to the book.

Light cascaded down over my face, my body, broken by green leaves that twisted in the wind. I awoke as I described earlier. The raven watching me. I knew in that moment everything was different. My injuries were gone, as if healed by themselves. I had no pain. I wondered if I was dead but the blood and skin under my fingernails told a different story. I stood and stumbled as my pants were still around my ankles, my panties long since having been torn away. It seems stupid now, but then I had to know, I reached down and slowly felt between my legs. Whatever damage that had been done had been healed. Even my virginity was intact. Impossibly stupid knowing what I know now, but then it gave me comfort. Then I noticed them. The spirits clustered about me. I knew them all as they were born of the rape and were strong. Spirits of pain, rage, hate, anger, and suffering. My raven cawed as if to drive them back but I stopped it. It took effort, I was going off pure instinct at this point…but I spoke to them. “Spirits, you wish to feed? Then come. Keep safe those I care for now and myself, but those whom I seek you may feed upon and do your will. I offer them to you as I find them.” One by one they inclined their heads to me. I smiled and pulled up my pants. The raven took to wing and landed on my shoulder. I had my army. I needed my savior. So I walked towards the city and my future.

When I arrived later in the evening at the apartment I could hear Dave inside on the phone. “Its been three days officer….yes I know….but why hasn’t she been found or any arrest made?” I knocked softly on the door. “Fine. Yes I will call back later.” I heard the click as he hung it on the wall and the thudding of his boots as he walked towards the door. It opened and his eyes went wide. I pressed a finger to his lips silencing him. “Where are the ladies?” He took a deep breath and swept me up into his arms. The embrace was crushing and I loved it. “Sleeping.” he whispered “We’ve been up for almost two days hoping for you and they couldn’t stay awake any more.” He set me down and I smiled, not the cheerful smile I used to have, but one full of darkness. One that promised pain later to come. “We need to talk Dave.” As if by will my sight changed and I could see not just him, but a sparkling aura around him. Dave took another deep breath and looked at me. I got the feeling he was seeing me as I saw him. “Yes Em…I believe we do.”

The conversation was…intriguing to say the least. Dave explained what he could of the world I had just been birthed into. I asked few questions, mostly just listening as he talked. My own story slowly pried its way forth. I could tell by the clenched fist that he was not going to let what happened to me slide. It was a good feeling. Someone was willing to stand up for me, and what’s more I was now on equal footing with him. Well more or less. He explained, as best he could, his manipulation of time. I in turn tried to explain the spirits I saw. Neither of us really got what the other said past the theory, but we both knew the other. We were mages. We did not fully, or even barely, understand each others powers but that did not matter. We both wanted the same thing: retribution. Dave knew the importance of sympathetic connections even if I did not. Carefully he took a toothpick and q-tip to the fingernails that had ravaged the face of one of my attackers. He smiled. I smiled. Our little world exploded.

“I have them!” Dave murmured though his gritted teeth. He had been scouring the fates, time, locations to pull it all together and find those whom had hurt me. The skin and blood was a little old, but not by much. It took him several tries but with that announcement I looked to my cadre of spirits. “We feast soon pets. Your patience will be rewarded.” Dave looked at me then, one eyebrow arching slightly. He did not ask, had not asked, a thing of the few words I often spoke under my breath. He mentioned nothing of the raven sitting perched, comfortably, on my shoulder. “We can strike them now…” he trailed off watching me as I shook my head. “No. In person. I want them to see me, feed the fear, rage, panic. I want them to feel and feed the panic, anger, hatred, and death. I want their blood on my boots.” He seemed a bit taken back by this. I understood his reluctance, but he had not been raped for hours upon end as each took their turn, gaining their fill and sating themselves upon me. Never again would they do this. “Well then,” Dave said as he rose from his crossed legged seat. It was 3 am. “Lets go to this frat house then. Should make the front page…”

“For those of you just joining us this morning, citizens of New York awoke to a grizzly scene at a local fraternity. Eight members of Theta Gamma Delta were found slain inside the frat house. The 911 call, we are told, went out at about 4 am. NBC News has obtained a clip of that call, we warn you the audio is extremely disturbing.”
“911 What’s your emergency?”
*sobs and screams in the background*
“I…Im a member of Theta Gamma Delta and I think someone is in the house. I heard Tim screaming and….and something….I just don’t know.”
*A closer scream sounds followed by a deep throated growl and the sound of bones being torn loose*
“Oh…Oh god they’re getting closer….Please help. Oh god please send help!”
“Sir stay on the line with me and be very quiet. I’m sending all available units to your location.”
*The sound of a door creaking open and heavy, frightened, breathing on the phone*
“You?!? You’re dead! Oh god…..AAErgh…..”
*The phone clatters to the floor providing an in depth audio of the frat boy being torn in half.*

The news fades back into view as the audio clip ends. “Just disturbing,” the anchor comments as he shakes his head “and now lets head back out to Tom our reporter on the scene. Tom?”

The screen changed and Tom came into view “Thank you. I’m here with one of the first officers on the scene. Officer can you tell me what you saw?” The cop looked quite shaken. He was pale and the look on his face told of at least one vomiting session. “Well…I’ve been a cop for twelve years. Never seen anything like this. They were just….ripped apart. Broken up.” He looked like he might be sick again, “I’m sorry I cant discuss this.”

I walked over and turned off the television in the flat, my eyes coming to rest on Dave. “They got what they deserved.” Dave nodded and ran a hand over his face “Well our day isn’t over yet. I need to take you to the leader of my Pylon and have you brought into the order. They probably will send you away for training.” I nodded and walked back to the couch and made to straddle Dave, “Alright. Since I wont be seeing you for a while then, there’s something I’ve always wanted…” He smiled “I don’t think we have to go quite yet…”

Later that day I was brought into the Seers of the Throne. Emily Worthington ceased to be soon after and I became Hex, a servant of the Exarchs and a member of the Seers of the Throne.


Fri Jul 09, 2010 5:27 pm
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