The dearest librarians rallied together. The would force Michon to their grounds and defeat him. They would have to be quick tongued and quick on their feet.
I read the reports of the happening some time later and all had their part.
Mina was to spot Michon first. Rivers would follow soon after, his own emotions over took him and he struck first. Mina would stand back to watch in case something terrible were to happen. Rivers practically tackles Michon, yelling at him, "You vile creature! How could you lie to my sister!" he threw him form the building on which Michon had perched himself. Roxy was quick to throw herself on top of Michon and hold him down while Octobre made quick work with bindings that Lorne had created and imbued with a deep power to keep him bound. Octobre would not stop there, to further hinder him he shot ice through Michon's legs to keep him immobile, Roxy would so effeminately deliver a well placed kick to Michon's crotch. Rivers made his final peace with a kick to Michon's head and they all whisked him back to the library's basement where I had set up a welcoming of my own.
It had been days since Michon was seen and I was getting so tired. I let Selk'Tar'Oth over take me a bit to give me strength. My head turned black, my eyes smoking with darkness, even my wings wilted and curled unhealthily. I was not so much Felice as I was Her and I was more than ready to take on this giant.
When Michon was brought Octobre laid him over the table, securing him tightly and left me there with him. Lorne appeared from the depths of the darkness and cast some magic over Michon that would force him to live and feel every pain that I would deliever to him, Lorne turned Michon mortal.
I cut his chest open. I said that he would become my newest masterpiece. I was not myself... not as most would know me. Not as many would see me. I was Sister Dementia for certain at this time but I was as always driven by Felice. It was my hand, it was my words, I just needed the push from Her to stay my hand.
I tore his rib cage open, I cut it on either side to get to his heart. Just as he played with mine, I would play with his and he would never forget it. I would make sure of it.
"Lorne grins under the surgical mask, and chuckles lightly "Ah, the sound of bone under a saw. Unique. I hope you appreciate the privilage, Michon. Actual humans are not able to experience what it feels like to have their heart damaged enough that it no longer functions well enough to keep them alive. You, on the other hand, will have that opportunity. I have even taken the liberty of augmenting your nervous system's capacity for processing pain, so that it won't be overloaded, and cause you to miss out on any nuances.""
I reached into the cavity and used my own power to snap his ribs like chicken wings. I cupped his heart and took in the scent of his living blood. It held this muscle in my hands and looked into his face. He had come back, Michon was whole and he was terrified by what he saw.
I bore holes into his heart for my work to take place, root and grow.
"Felice Nightfire pushes her thumbs through to the other side, the creatures writhing still within him as she watches his face. "You stole my heart." she states, her dual tone resounding in the small room still, "I hardly want yours but only to show you what it is now." she mutters as a long barbed creature unfurls from her hand. It crawls around her wrist swiftly before diving into Michon's heart. It lengthens and twirls, fitting itself into each chamber still beating. The creature expands, letting its body lock itself within his heart so that with each beat the barbs would make her pain clear to him."
My work was finished but there was yet one more person for Michon to meet with. He deserved to have his say, he would be brought to the light as Felice would have wanted him to be.
"Felice Nightfire almost tenderly slide overs Michon's torso, pressing his muscles back into place once more as she mutters. A croaking sound from her chest can be hear as the creatures she set in Michon's body all scurry from him at once, creating new exits where there were none. These creatures crawl up her arms and into her mouth as she opens it, eating them as her hands work healing Michon's torso once more."
Michon would wait one more night and Felice would recover to deliver him.
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Plan
It was Mina who found Michon first. She approached him knowingly who he was, what he had done, and what she needed to reassure me of.
Needless to say he was completely lost in his own mind, he seemed to be suffering his own struggle. He was sent to hell for killing himself, for murdering me and lying his whole life to me as to where his loyalties had to hide.
Mina told me the moment she could find me, "He loves you."
I nearly broke upon hearing this. Ada soon followed after Mina nodding, "He love you but is very troubled."
I clasped my chest and heaved a bit. I was feeling sick, feeling faint, I sat and placed my head between my legs. The lovely girls came to my side and comforted me. Mina always with her words and Ada with her strong guardian presence. The reassured me that he was out of his mind, that he was convinced to be released from his personal hell he had to finish the job he was originally set to do. He had to kill me to be free. The three of us knew better than this, that it would only deepen his torment. I was stricken with grief that I nearly lost my own head. It was already such a challenge to accept that my lot in life was to be used as a weapon of sorts, then my love coming back and wanting to kill me. I simply sat in silence.
Octobre soon joined us and Mina briefed him on the situation. He too confirmed that Michon would not rest without my blood upon his hands.
So the three of them together devised a plan. The would trick Michon into being captured, at which point they would take him to the basement of the library, question him, find out what makes him tick and stop it.
It is rare that plans perform as well as what we hope.
Needless to say he was completely lost in his own mind, he seemed to be suffering his own struggle. He was sent to hell for killing himself, for murdering me and lying his whole life to me as to where his loyalties had to hide.
Mina told me the moment she could find me, "He loves you."
I nearly broke upon hearing this. Ada soon followed after Mina nodding, "He love you but is very troubled."
I clasped my chest and heaved a bit. I was feeling sick, feeling faint, I sat and placed my head between my legs. The lovely girls came to my side and comforted me. Mina always with her words and Ada with her strong guardian presence. The reassured me that he was out of his mind, that he was convinced to be released from his personal hell he had to finish the job he was originally set to do. He had to kill me to be free. The three of us knew better than this, that it would only deepen his torment. I was stricken with grief that I nearly lost my own head. It was already such a challenge to accept that my lot in life was to be used as a weapon of sorts, then my love coming back and wanting to kill me. I simply sat in silence.
Octobre soon joined us and Mina briefed him on the situation. He too confirmed that Michon would not rest without my blood upon his hands.
So the three of them together devised a plan. The would trick Michon into being captured, at which point they would take him to the basement of the library, question him, find out what makes him tick and stop it.
It is rare that plans perform as well as what we hope.
The Stagnant
Thus I left them. I left most of this city to return my thoughts to myself. I wanted to ignore everything around me and let it all sink in. I spent a great deal of time on the beach or the boardwalk, collecting my thoughts. Much of my time was spent alone, that which was not in company of Ada or Mina or even Octobre for short whiles.
However, I could not escape Her. Selk'Tar'Oth wold not leave me alone. Instead she fueled my anger... I was angry at Denenthorn for what he charged my only one sided love to do. I could not be civil with myself without speaking to him about it. So i found him, alone, in the cemetery.
I approached and there were words. I wish I could say that there was a feirce battle, the likes of which drove my anger from me... but there was not. Those words exchanged were private. He gave me the right to kill him, I am most grateful not that I did not. He was to marry darling Vivi that Sunday, and forth that reason I would not murder him as he vicariously did me. I do not know if she knows the reasons... it is best left unsaid.
However with no vengence for my hatred Denenthorn spoke to me as only he could. Respectively I was without reason and he calmed me. The ice that had formed in my heart thawed and by the end of our conversation of wickness and duty. I had forgiven him. Still to this day he remains singularly who I would throw my life for. Vivi also... they come in a pair... both would damn my name should they properly know that though.
A plan was megerly formed. To know thine enemy is to know thy self. Considering I arrived to Toxia with hardly a name I had to find my past. Lorne was in the eather, it would have been too easy to ask him. I searched the library records, it came up with minimal information. My family names, my address, doctors notices... there had to be a way of contacting the past without contacting Michon personally.
I hate to admit it but I used my fellow librarians to this task, to my upmost joy they were eager and willing to help. I set them the tasks, described the man and they set to it. In the time between I sought my respected friends, those powerful in the seats they kept. I first set to meet with Dom of the Righteous Second in Command.
I did try to explain what was going on, the ever present battle in my head. This was when Selk'Tar'Oth screamed for blood, screamed for murder, to take and consume without ever think of the gravity of the situation. Dom in all of his brilliant splendor was blinded by his own light. His advise seemed to belittle me and I took it in stride. I tried to, still try to understand his God, his Light, his Voice... but all i could hear was Her whispering my ear to let Her take over, let her consume this Angel of power. I did give him thanks and I did consider it. To take in the light and drive out my own darkness. It was a plan that sounded flawless... however Selk'Tar'Oth knew and she snapped the idea from me in a nightmare. She convinced me enough that no light would drive her away.
I next sought Dio, leader of the Shadows. He and I have some history with each other, he to even have spent a good amount of time in the library under my wing. Since his time with the Shadows his mood and conversations had changed greatly. A near army at his finger tips and I felt the need to kneel to him. He would take none of that though and to my suprise spoke to me as though I were any equal. He had not forgotten me as I thought he would and allowed me to speak. He spoke to me of capturing Her as She was before... I assured him that she would not fall so easily for that again and it was most like sweeping a problem under a rug. She would escape and find me agian and Her reign would be all the more horrible. He then had urgent business to attend and I stepped away considering that if She is made of darkness, she would certianly consume that which any Shadow would provide.
My final stop was to Jaco, the Voice of the Coven. He and I keep good terms but he knew nothing of my creation. I told him of it and he himself was quite bewildered. He said that he would seek advice from the Gods and Goddesses that he worships but that they rarely tell him anything. He then said that it would be best to follow what I thought was right.
I set to do so. What felt right was revenge. What felt right was to kill Michon and end his physical life. But my love for him could not die so easily. I knew not what could be done with his soul.
I had to wait for my librarians to report to me.
However, I could not escape Her. Selk'Tar'Oth wold not leave me alone. Instead she fueled my anger... I was angry at Denenthorn for what he charged my only one sided love to do. I could not be civil with myself without speaking to him about it. So i found him, alone, in the cemetery.
I approached and there were words. I wish I could say that there was a feirce battle, the likes of which drove my anger from me... but there was not. Those words exchanged were private. He gave me the right to kill him, I am most grateful not that I did not. He was to marry darling Vivi that Sunday, and forth that reason I would not murder him as he vicariously did me. I do not know if she knows the reasons... it is best left unsaid.
However with no vengence for my hatred Denenthorn spoke to me as only he could. Respectively I was without reason and he calmed me. The ice that had formed in my heart thawed and by the end of our conversation of wickness and duty. I had forgiven him. Still to this day he remains singularly who I would throw my life for. Vivi also... they come in a pair... both would damn my name should they properly know that though.
A plan was megerly formed. To know thine enemy is to know thy self. Considering I arrived to Toxia with hardly a name I had to find my past. Lorne was in the eather, it would have been too easy to ask him. I searched the library records, it came up with minimal information. My family names, my address, doctors notices... there had to be a way of contacting the past without contacting Michon personally.
I hate to admit it but I used my fellow librarians to this task, to my upmost joy they were eager and willing to help. I set them the tasks, described the man and they set to it. In the time between I sought my respected friends, those powerful in the seats they kept. I first set to meet with Dom of the Righteous Second in Command.
I did try to explain what was going on, the ever present battle in my head. This was when Selk'Tar'Oth screamed for blood, screamed for murder, to take and consume without ever think of the gravity of the situation. Dom in all of his brilliant splendor was blinded by his own light. His advise seemed to belittle me and I took it in stride. I tried to, still try to understand his God, his Light, his Voice... but all i could hear was Her whispering my ear to let Her take over, let her consume this Angel of power. I did give him thanks and I did consider it. To take in the light and drive out my own darkness. It was a plan that sounded flawless... however Selk'Tar'Oth knew and she snapped the idea from me in a nightmare. She convinced me enough that no light would drive her away.
I next sought Dio, leader of the Shadows. He and I have some history with each other, he to even have spent a good amount of time in the library under my wing. Since his time with the Shadows his mood and conversations had changed greatly. A near army at his finger tips and I felt the need to kneel to him. He would take none of that though and to my suprise spoke to me as though I were any equal. He had not forgotten me as I thought he would and allowed me to speak. He spoke to me of capturing Her as She was before... I assured him that she would not fall so easily for that again and it was most like sweeping a problem under a rug. She would escape and find me agian and Her reign would be all the more horrible. He then had urgent business to attend and I stepped away considering that if She is made of darkness, she would certianly consume that which any Shadow would provide.
My final stop was to Jaco, the Voice of the Coven. He and I keep good terms but he knew nothing of my creation. I told him of it and he himself was quite bewildered. He said that he would seek advice from the Gods and Goddesses that he worships but that they rarely tell him anything. He then said that it would be best to follow what I thought was right.
I set to do so. What felt right was revenge. What felt right was to kill Michon and end his physical life. But my love for him could not die so easily. I knew not what could be done with his soul.
I had to wait for my librarians to report to me.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Return
Apparently he had been in the city long enough to survey the area, even talk to a few citizens. It was not until one of my personal prized possessions was missing did I find that he had returned.
I had walked into the library looking to take the stress away from the city, curl up by the fire and open my personal copy of Hamlet, something that I have kept with me in life and was delivers to me after my rebirth. When I found it missing I was very unnerved, no one knew where I had hid it, no one could have known it was behind the first two editions of Biochemistry of the Hatch ling Magpie and the sixth edition of Practical Alchemy. Someone had looked for it and meant to take it, I had not a clue why, it was only important to myself.
Regardless I had to find it and quickly, I did not want to make a fuss so I went to see the only person I could trust with finding such a personal object, Vivi. I headed for the church and stood a bit to let Denny and Vivi bicker on about something, I was most preoccupied with my thoughts to have paid close attention. After a bit of light banter I requested Vivi to scry for my book. I do not trust magic so much bt I recall it being rather effective in the past.
She worked quickly and it only took moments to find that it was a man wearing a hat with a noose around his neck who had stolen it. This description meant nothing to me but it bristled Denny quite a bit.
It was soon explained that a man named Michon had stolen it. This was a name I had not heard or even muttered since my life. It stung deeply and worried me that it was so possible for my past to have returned.
I admit, my reaction was... ungraceful, even rude. Denny was keeping something from me and this infuriated me even more. I know now that he was trying to protect me...but I escaped my wrath inflicting others and quickly and traveled to the hospital roof for some peace. I had to think because Denny must have been lying Michon had been long dead now.
Dearest Mina followed me, she wanted to know that I was alright. I stood there, staring out over the city, but not at anything. My mind was exploding within myself, Selk'Tar'Oth screaming at me for blood, myself trying to understand. Mina was struck by my hand when she tried to comfort me. I was losing it already and quickly apologized. She replied saying it was nothing to be concerned for, but her words did not register. She asked if I wanted to talk, the least I could do was oblige her... my death is not uncommon knowledge.
I told her that once I loved a gentleman, the man who took me away from the asylum, took care of me, loved me... that he went mad in the middle of one of my... episodes and had no choice but to put me out of my misery. Of course... it was his form of mercy towards me that three blows to the head with a lead pipe would do it. But he did love me, I know it, why did he have to end my existence?
Denenthorn had been listening... he spoke, "Because he was under orders to do such a thing..."
This struck me hard, I had been given orders before, for the Illuminati, for the House. But the way Michon loved me could not have been orders.
Denny spoke again at my denial and my questioning, ""He was under orders to do this.... because you created something.... cause you had to be an artist...Skilled enough to catch the eyes of your current benefactors and my former employers...Michon was merely a tool.... a catalyst...." he murmured, "It was not Michon who decided you needed to die.... in truth he is not the reason you're an angel.... just the cause....""
My head was swimming, who, why? What in the world could I have done to deserve such treatment? What did being an artist have to do with anything, Michon truly loved me, he was stressed over his work, my health, and our state of living, he did not have a choice, how could it have been orders? Everything gushing through my thoughts at once was making me light headed and I dared to not stand for this news, it was a weakness but one I think Mina and Denny understood. I demanded to know who gave the order.
Denny looked dead on into my eyes, "Me."
I denied it and he refused this, stating it was of his bosses order but that he was the one that had to give it to Michon, due to my Masterpiece. Because I created something that this world should not know about, because I created something that I should not have even imagined, because my Father had to give me a gift in remembrance. Because I was a mortal, I would not have time to finish my Masterpiece and the Illuminati wanted control over its power because... apparently, upon its completion, Selk'Tar'Oth would rise and the Order wanted that power.
This news was ridiculous, over my head, inconceivable, out of my realm... but completely true. I needed a moment to recalculate my entire existence.
I had walked into the library looking to take the stress away from the city, curl up by the fire and open my personal copy of Hamlet, something that I have kept with me in life and was delivers to me after my rebirth. When I found it missing I was very unnerved, no one knew where I had hid it, no one could have known it was behind the first two editions of Biochemistry of the Hatch ling Magpie and the sixth edition of Practical Alchemy. Someone had looked for it and meant to take it, I had not a clue why, it was only important to myself.
Regardless I had to find it and quickly, I did not want to make a fuss so I went to see the only person I could trust with finding such a personal object, Vivi. I headed for the church and stood a bit to let Denny and Vivi bicker on about something, I was most preoccupied with my thoughts to have paid close attention. After a bit of light banter I requested Vivi to scry for my book. I do not trust magic so much bt I recall it being rather effective in the past.
She worked quickly and it only took moments to find that it was a man wearing a hat with a noose around his neck who had stolen it. This description meant nothing to me but it bristled Denny quite a bit.
It was soon explained that a man named Michon had stolen it. This was a name I had not heard or even muttered since my life. It stung deeply and worried me that it was so possible for my past to have returned.
I admit, my reaction was... ungraceful, even rude. Denny was keeping something from me and this infuriated me even more. I know now that he was trying to protect me...but I escaped my wrath inflicting others and quickly and traveled to the hospital roof for some peace. I had to think because Denny must have been lying Michon had been long dead now.
Dearest Mina followed me, she wanted to know that I was alright. I stood there, staring out over the city, but not at anything. My mind was exploding within myself, Selk'Tar'Oth screaming at me for blood, myself trying to understand. Mina was struck by my hand when she tried to comfort me. I was losing it already and quickly apologized. She replied saying it was nothing to be concerned for, but her words did not register. She asked if I wanted to talk, the least I could do was oblige her... my death is not uncommon knowledge.
I told her that once I loved a gentleman, the man who took me away from the asylum, took care of me, loved me... that he went mad in the middle of one of my... episodes and had no choice but to put me out of my misery. Of course... it was his form of mercy towards me that three blows to the head with a lead pipe would do it. But he did love me, I know it, why did he have to end my existence?
Denenthorn had been listening... he spoke, "Because he was under orders to do such a thing..."
This struck me hard, I had been given orders before, for the Illuminati, for the House. But the way Michon loved me could not have been orders.
Denny spoke again at my denial and my questioning, ""He was under orders to do this.... because you created something.... cause you had to be an artist...Skilled enough to catch the eyes of your current benefactors and my former employers...Michon was merely a tool.... a catalyst...." he murmured, "It was not Michon who decided you needed to die.... in truth he is not the reason you're an angel.... just the cause....""
My head was swimming, who, why? What in the world could I have done to deserve such treatment? What did being an artist have to do with anything, Michon truly loved me, he was stressed over his work, my health, and our state of living, he did not have a choice, how could it have been orders? Everything gushing through my thoughts at once was making me light headed and I dared to not stand for this news, it was a weakness but one I think Mina and Denny understood. I demanded to know who gave the order.
Denny looked dead on into my eyes, "Me."
I denied it and he refused this, stating it was of his bosses order but that he was the one that had to give it to Michon, due to my Masterpiece. Because I created something that this world should not know about, because I created something that I should not have even imagined, because my Father had to give me a gift in remembrance. Because I was a mortal, I would not have time to finish my Masterpiece and the Illuminati wanted control over its power because... apparently, upon its completion, Selk'Tar'Oth would rise and the Order wanted that power.
This news was ridiculous, over my head, inconceivable, out of my realm... but completely true. I needed a moment to recalculate my entire existence.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Through the dust that has settled
A new Toxia arises.
Soon after the city was shaken, nearly to the ground, there was an abundance of power swelling through the city. Whispers spread, turning to chit chat, then idle talk, soon became yelling and shouting for vengeance and congratulations for new found homes.
Thusly, the Toxian shuffle occurred. Denny moved to the Church, Lorne moved to the lIbrary, Jaco succeeded over all else and runs the Voo Doo shop, as Dio must have rushed passed Kishi's temper to take the throne of the Pit; possibly dodging a new woman named Calypso who takes charge of the Garage.
Though these times for the library are new still, it goes without question that the library has sustained well. We have taken in many new members and have run story telling once more. I must confess though, his magic has caused me to consider tying these new fangled, fabric softener, static cling fighting, dyer sheets to my wings.
Soon after the city was shaken, nearly to the ground, there was an abundance of power swelling through the city. Whispers spread, turning to chit chat, then idle talk, soon became yelling and shouting for vengeance and congratulations for new found homes.
Thusly, the Toxian shuffle occurred. Denny moved to the Church, Lorne moved to the lIbrary, Jaco succeeded over all else and runs the Voo Doo shop, as Dio must have rushed passed Kishi's temper to take the throne of the Pit; possibly dodging a new woman named Calypso who takes charge of the Garage.
Though these times for the library are new still, it goes without question that the library has sustained well. We have taken in many new members and have run story telling once more. I must confess though, his magic has caused me to consider tying these new fangled, fabric softener, static cling fighting, dyer sheets to my wings.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Uncommon vacation
A week went by and I was not here, instead Selk'Tar'Oth walked for a time in my body. There was little I could do but I could see it all. I curse my body for being so powerless against her, or is it powerful because of her. No matter.... this thing that is entangled with my brain, capillaries, nervous system, and soul might be the death of me.
She took the innocence away from my beloved Librarians, tore them out to the city for hell bent disgusting activities. She went and threatened the church, even Denny and she wished to congratulate the new Shadow Lord... one whom I have even yet to meet,
She pushed Wotan into a battle of wits among countless others, she ruined my body with so much activity.... though unfortunately this city appeased her and she will not leave it yet as she had planned. She knows there is still something there.... I feel it as well...
I feel my mental capacity is fading, I cannot tell which way is up or down, left or right, good or evil. My head still swims in the toxic ocean and think I left the kettle on. Needless to say Selk'Tar'Oth has left me lost and very confused.
She took the innocence away from my beloved Librarians, tore them out to the city for hell bent disgusting activities. She went and threatened the church, even Denny and she wished to congratulate the new Shadow Lord... one whom I have even yet to meet,
She pushed Wotan into a battle of wits among countless others, she ruined my body with so much activity.... though unfortunately this city appeased her and she will not leave it yet as she had planned. She knows there is still something there.... I feel it as well...
I feel my mental capacity is fading, I cannot tell which way is up or down, left or right, good or evil. My head still swims in the toxic ocean and think I left the kettle on. Needless to say Selk'Tar'Oth has left me lost and very confused.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
An age of change
The dust is clearing. settling slowly and I am left still in the dark.. I do not know what it is that happened in this city but it feels as though an earthquake as shaken its very roots. There are citizen meandering about calling out names that go unanswered.
Finally I step back to the library, the on place that seemed spared. I walk through its doors finding a strange glowing glyph on the floor and books circling about. The walls rattle as a voice swells and I can feel an energy from the second floor.
I do not hear or feel Denenthorn around in this place... again there is a presence... someone... or something is missing, but I cannot lay my finger upon what it was... it seemed stronger yesterday and that it had a name... but today... oh that was no matter there was a definite disturbance in the library and it was hardly the time to try and remember.
Where in the world was Denny, of this a Toxian marked moment, we needed a leader present and I am incapable of rising to it.
As I stand to face this voice... this presence Jhura is standing, looking defensive but speaking offensively. He calls for the voice to show itself and I am too busy tilting my head in wonderment to tell him that I recognize it as Lorne. It is only when he pops into existence that I remember my notes of him.
Jhura draws his weapon, ready to take his head off and I raise my own hand, asking him to wait. This is no time to be chopping off heads of friends, this is a time when we must band together to create a logical conclusion to everything that has shaken this city.
At my asking he holds back, Lorne is explained in the quickest way to Jhura but it is then I beg for Lorne to speak. His eyevoids lock a moment on me, a case where a long time ago I would have shuttered, change can make the weakest bold.
Lorne speaks, his voice neither of care or hurtful intention. He speaks of something that I hardly understand, weylines... and things planted so long ago when the End still took solace in these walls. My head was swimming... I had to step out.
Now I must find my own answers. I must ask Denny and ask Lorne what has become of the library and who I should follow. Denny is my leader, always has been and Lorne... most respected but always to be with the Coven... I know they both had such strong ties to the library, but it was before my time... I only have stories to go from... I need first hand facts now or I may never be able to settle.
All at once this has come crashing in upon myself and my librarians... I owe them an explanation. For all that they have done for me, I owe them at least a story. Perhaps it is something the Masters proclaimed, it would not be the first time they kept secrets from me... and if that is the case I will stand my post lest I be killed for abandoning it, or my time has ended and it is one for the Master to hand me my last syringe, I hope to spare my life at least.
One more story, either to my own end or my beginning with so many more.
Finally I step back to the library, the on place that seemed spared. I walk through its doors finding a strange glowing glyph on the floor and books circling about. The walls rattle as a voice swells and I can feel an energy from the second floor.
I do not hear or feel Denenthorn around in this place... again there is a presence... someone... or something is missing, but I cannot lay my finger upon what it was... it seemed stronger yesterday and that it had a name... but today... oh that was no matter there was a definite disturbance in the library and it was hardly the time to try and remember.
Where in the world was Denny, of this a Toxian marked moment, we needed a leader present and I am incapable of rising to it.
As I stand to face this voice... this presence Jhura is standing, looking defensive but speaking offensively. He calls for the voice to show itself and I am too busy tilting my head in wonderment to tell him that I recognize it as Lorne. It is only when he pops into existence that I remember my notes of him.
Jhura draws his weapon, ready to take his head off and I raise my own hand, asking him to wait. This is no time to be chopping off heads of friends, this is a time when we must band together to create a logical conclusion to everything that has shaken this city.
At my asking he holds back, Lorne is explained in the quickest way to Jhura but it is then I beg for Lorne to speak. His eyevoids lock a moment on me, a case where a long time ago I would have shuttered, change can make the weakest bold.
Lorne speaks, his voice neither of care or hurtful intention. He speaks of something that I hardly understand, weylines... and things planted so long ago when the End still took solace in these walls. My head was swimming... I had to step out.
Now I must find my own answers. I must ask Denny and ask Lorne what has become of the library and who I should follow. Denny is my leader, always has been and Lorne... most respected but always to be with the Coven... I know they both had such strong ties to the library, but it was before my time... I only have stories to go from... I need first hand facts now or I may never be able to settle.
All at once this has come crashing in upon myself and my librarians... I owe them an explanation. For all that they have done for me, I owe them at least a story. Perhaps it is something the Masters proclaimed, it would not be the first time they kept secrets from me... and if that is the case I will stand my post lest I be killed for abandoning it, or my time has ended and it is one for the Master to hand me my last syringe, I hope to spare my life at least.
One more story, either to my own end or my beginning with so many more.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A year come and gone.
One year in Toxia, or would it be best said one mile... Approximately how many miles I have walked in this city I have not a clue. I have met many friends, many enemies, and have done away with filth that I cannot stand. I have risen above, fallen far below, and have come to level out where I am. I can say that this place is strange how much I loathe it, yet find myself living out each day here to the best of my ability.
While my time is becoming more constrained due to a sense of over establishment with my quantumn personality, I have stepped down from second in command but I will keep to the library in my best capacities as it is the only place I may call home.
I must admit, it will be nice to breathe without Denenthorn hanigng over my head, he has just moved to my shoulder which suits me well enough.
The library is changing once more, this time I feel it is for the better. We have so many new faces, so many new things to witness, I want to watch it grow and I think the librarians want to see this as well. With my step down I can only think that the library will step up as a whole.
I am... interested to see what this shift will do with the rest of the city.
While my time is becoming more constrained due to a sense of over establishment with my quantumn personality, I have stepped down from second in command but I will keep to the library in my best capacities as it is the only place I may call home.
I must admit, it will be nice to breathe without Denenthorn hanigng over my head, he has just moved to my shoulder which suits me well enough.
The library is changing once more, this time I feel it is for the better. We have so many new faces, so many new things to witness, I want to watch it grow and I think the librarians want to see this as well. With my step down I can only think that the library will step up as a whole.
I am... interested to see what this shift will do with the rest of the city.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Death again
I was stabbed.... a most unusual feeling thought it hardly lasted long. Before I knew it I was back in the waiting room, waiting. It seemed a bit brighter this time and once more nothing was there for a long time. It seemed like years until Selk'Tar'Oth came to me. She sauntered to me and crosses her arms, looking down at me shaking her head.
"You are trouble..." she said to me.
"Yes, you give me more trouble though I am sure." I replied.
"No... I have curbed my wants to respect to you and what I have seen of your... friends. We made an agreement, we will keep to it as long as you uphold your end of the deal."
I looked at her in confusion shaking my head, "But you have not even told me what that is."
"One knows, that is all that is required." she grinned at me, bending down to meet my gaze as her fingers traced over my curling creeping tattoos. "Have you ever looked closely at these? Do you remember ever receiving them? Do you remember anything about them?" she asked knowingly.
I looked down and shook my head, "You control my subconscious and my memories... you can only tell me what is truth, what I remember, what my past is... even if you twist it to your whim."
She cackled and let her long fingers curl around my hand. "Have one of those metal men look at you more closely, then you might have a lead." she chittered and suddenly tugged my hand. She fiercely pulled my hand into herself and again I was met with light and breath. In my head lingered, "Your knight needs you."
I opened my eyes to again see my reviver, Denenthorn standing over me. My head is swimming still... I remember the assault and I have handled it the way I do, by not showing anything.
However, an attack is not so uncommon, what is uncommon is that there was no known motive... all we have of any lead is a plastic rose... I fear this will be difficult to solve.
"You are trouble..." she said to me.
"Yes, you give me more trouble though I am sure." I replied.
"No... I have curbed my wants to respect to you and what I have seen of your... friends. We made an agreement, we will keep to it as long as you uphold your end of the deal."
I looked at her in confusion shaking my head, "But you have not even told me what that is."
"One knows, that is all that is required." she grinned at me, bending down to meet my gaze as her fingers traced over my curling creeping tattoos. "Have you ever looked closely at these? Do you remember ever receiving them? Do you remember anything about them?" she asked knowingly.
I looked down and shook my head, "You control my subconscious and my memories... you can only tell me what is truth, what I remember, what my past is... even if you twist it to your whim."
She cackled and let her long fingers curl around my hand. "Have one of those metal men look at you more closely, then you might have a lead." she chittered and suddenly tugged my hand. She fiercely pulled my hand into herself and again I was met with light and breath. In my head lingered, "Your knight needs you."
I opened my eyes to again see my reviver, Denenthorn standing over me. My head is swimming still... I remember the assault and I have handled it the way I do, by not showing anything.
However, an attack is not so uncommon, what is uncommon is that there was no known motive... all we have of any lead is a plastic rose... I fear this will be difficult to solve.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Thusly
The times have been rough. All that seems to be on anyone's lips are I need to speak with... blank. Or there is no one in the library when .... blah. Really now, there are not so many librarians in the city, we cannot be there all the time, we are only volunteers to this city... we do not get paid, in fact were threatened daily. Goodness, it is high risk being a citizen, it seems as though it is even worse being a librarian. We have a price for information, just as any one else would charge for a service... we cannot be expected to just give out information willy nilly... or just as easily as one seems to have the ability to find a drink in the bar...
But really... one would threaten the library or a librarian when there is little left to threat? The building has stood for years before and will stand after. Anyone harmed can be mended in some way, save for the few that seem to truely die and disappear, it was simply their time. The whole threat angle steadily becomes less and less of a concern... one cannot gather information from a dead person as is someone is less willing to give out information when something is amiss.
Why do the citizens not just come politely, get what we ask for in return of information and leave? It is really a simple policy that many seem able to abide by
and has worked in the past, why are there still a few that continue to fight? I must admit it is much like bashing one's head against a post as they seem to turn
a deaf ear.
*Reads back a bit*
Goodness, perhaps Toxia has changed my outlook on things. I suppose however, one can only expect personalities to rub off upon another, Denenthorn would be no exception towards me... he has shown me an amount of bravery in words, even if there is a bit of hiding involved with it; I am no fool.
A most strange occurance though, Dio has shown me something of great value, a very strange book intended for memories. It is a wonderment that he has established it this far however, he owes me two books still in return for the one he has changed. I will have to remember to go to him and collect that which is rightfully mine.
It is also most strange that when the library is open nearly 24/7 how when we close it for twenty minutes that is the time everyone wishes to enter it.
I have so much more to write, but the time is for rest now.
But really... one would threaten the library or a librarian when there is little left to threat? The building has stood for years before and will stand after. Anyone harmed can be mended in some way, save for the few that seem to truely die and disappear, it was simply their time. The whole threat angle steadily becomes less and less of a concern... one cannot gather information from a dead person as is someone is less willing to give out information when something is amiss.
Why do the citizens not just come politely, get what we ask for in return of information and leave? It is really a simple policy that many seem able to abide by
and has worked in the past, why are there still a few that continue to fight? I must admit it is much like bashing one's head against a post as they seem to turn
a deaf ear.
*Reads back a bit*
Goodness, perhaps Toxia has changed my outlook on things. I suppose however, one can only expect personalities to rub off upon another, Denenthorn would be no exception towards me... he has shown me an amount of bravery in words, even if there is a bit of hiding involved with it; I am no fool.
A most strange occurance though, Dio has shown me something of great value, a very strange book intended for memories. It is a wonderment that he has established it this far however, he owes me two books still in return for the one he has changed. I will have to remember to go to him and collect that which is rightfully mine.
It is also most strange that when the library is open nearly 24/7 how when we close it for twenty minutes that is the time everyone wishes to enter it.
I have so much more to write, but the time is for rest now.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Learning
Though I spent years, nearly a century and a half learning from books in limbo, it does not compare to practical establishment and implementation of knowledge.
I might be noted to have knowledge of everything or anything under the sun however my experience with people is lacking. I have manipulation at my finger tips however, I can be just as easily manipulated. I prefer the former to the latter personally, however there have been occasions where the latter has proven to be profitable.
I have not ignored you so much as I have gotten busy with the city. It seems to flourish a new each day, we have new librarians come in, we have a few leave, but none leave as detrimentally as one. He was working in our stead, it should have been standard book retrieval however the identity of the one in question was mistaken.
The Reckoning seem to be out for blood over this mistake, yet it is they who offended us. They stole from my precious library, no permission was given, I do not even know how they were able to find the books they aquired as the file system is scrambled for that very reason.
Regardless it happened, what more are we expected to than hire someone to retrieve that which we cannot? However they captured him and tortured ihm for information, about who had sent him. Just like any good mercenary he took his information to the grave.
But he is needed. Thusly it was taken by Denenthorn and myself to resurrect him. He is with us once more but in a badly weakened state. His voice has not returned, better still I am in claim of his memories. I will turn them over to Pontifex once more since he has greater dealings with such things.
To trace back my steps a bit, Pontifex has shown me his drink. He had shown me his wine, made that of lust, innocence, and loss once before but this drink was his own. I took my sip ever=so=gently and I will never be the same for it. I dare not write what I saw, for if this would get into the wrong hands, only I should be the one to suffer. However, I can say that I feel more him more deeply than I had before. He and I share more in common with each other than I could ever have realized without it.
That night I gave him a small portion of my story, that which only my brother knows of and even then I think he would deny it.
((Following are logs taken from the South East Bar))
[23:33] Felice Nightfire nods, "Quite yes, at the moment I do." she tilts her head, "Go ahead?" she looks a bit shocked, "You wish to hear it?"
[23:34] Pontifex Jenvieve nods, "If you're welling to tell..."
[23:38] Felice Nightfire sips the last of her wine setting the glass on the table as she nods once, "It is a story but only as far as I understand it... but not far enough in many parts." she tents her fingers over her lap, her eyes brightening with the renewed taste of the wine, fading slowly as she speaks, "I was born... long enough ago. I grew up near here... closer to the North, but none the less lived fairly normal. My father worked as an archeologist, my mother as a sunday school teacher, my brother had his school and his friends but I had my artist pad and charcoal."
[23:40] Pontifex Jenvieve listens, closing his eyes as he attempts to picture her words in grimy black and white.
[23:43] Felice Nightfire "I did not have much need for school then, I was about seven, my brother would watch me out of the corner of his eye since father was off on a dig somewhere out by what might be known now as India..." she thinks, tapping the table cloth, "Father came home and given me my pocket watch.... his pocket watch.... something had happened on the dig, he said that they found something unusual, unexplainable caverns, he hardly slept ont he journey." she shakes her head, "His eyes were dead when I looked at him to welcome him home, but he handed me the watch and his eyes livened." she says slowly, her wings tucking more tightly against her.
[23:46] Felice Nightfire "I was very little then.... very weak." she nods and looks to him for a long while, her eyes seeing to study him, "But I could see more than anyone else, I know what is out there, and it does not care about us." she states and breathes a little harder, her eyebrows creasing deeply as she looks away, holding her head and inhaling deeply. "Long..... very long story short.... my father and mother put me into the hospital." she gesutres behind her towards the beach a bit, "And I lived there until my love could remove me and take me somewhere descent."
[23:46] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes briefly, to see if she had the pocket watch out as she told the story, then closed his eyes once more picturing the India dig.
[23:52] Felice Nightfire "He moves me into a nice flat, it was small but it was what could be afforded by him and he went to work at the factory." she says her lips pursing a bit tightly a moment. "I was able to draw more freely there... but I got so much worse." she sighs heavily, "I could not help my work, I was not conscious of the world.... my love.... got frustrated." she says and looks into her palms, rubbing at the ink there shaking her head again, "He got very angry and... decided .... must have decided to be merciful... to end my life..." she says sounding a bit forced on it.
[23:54] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes to look at her as she speaks of her death. He takes another breath and lets his eyes fall to the table cloth.
[23:56] Felice Nightfire sighs deeply and sits back, "He decided to take a lead pipe to my head three times... and three was enough." she says with a bit of a shrug. She doesn't seem to notice a thin line of deep red, near black liquid drip down the front of her forhead very slowly, like chilled molassas. "Limbo was not so bad.... coming back and learning what I had missed was difficult... as well as emotional capacities."
I might be noted to have knowledge of everything or anything under the sun however my experience with people is lacking. I have manipulation at my finger tips however, I can be just as easily manipulated. I prefer the former to the latter personally, however there have been occasions where the latter has proven to be profitable.
I have not ignored you so much as I have gotten busy with the city. It seems to flourish a new each day, we have new librarians come in, we have a few leave, but none leave as detrimentally as one. He was working in our stead, it should have been standard book retrieval however the identity of the one in question was mistaken.
The Reckoning seem to be out for blood over this mistake, yet it is they who offended us. They stole from my precious library, no permission was given, I do not even know how they were able to find the books they aquired as the file system is scrambled for that very reason.
Regardless it happened, what more are we expected to than hire someone to retrieve that which we cannot? However they captured him and tortured ihm for information, about who had sent him. Just like any good mercenary he took his information to the grave.
But he is needed. Thusly it was taken by Denenthorn and myself to resurrect him. He is with us once more but in a badly weakened state. His voice has not returned, better still I am in claim of his memories. I will turn them over to Pontifex once more since he has greater dealings with such things.
To trace back my steps a bit, Pontifex has shown me his drink. He had shown me his wine, made that of lust, innocence, and loss once before but this drink was his own. I took my sip ever=so=gently and I will never be the same for it. I dare not write what I saw, for if this would get into the wrong hands, only I should be the one to suffer. However, I can say that I feel more him more deeply than I had before. He and I share more in common with each other than I could ever have realized without it.
That night I gave him a small portion of my story, that which only my brother knows of and even then I think he would deny it.
((Following are logs taken from the South East Bar))
[23:33] Felice Nightfire nods, "Quite yes, at the moment I do." she tilts her head, "Go ahead?" she looks a bit shocked, "You wish to hear it?"
[23:34] Pontifex Jenvieve nods, "If you're welling to tell..."
[23:38] Felice Nightfire sips the last of her wine setting the glass on the table as she nods once, "It is a story but only as far as I understand it... but not far enough in many parts." she tents her fingers over her lap, her eyes brightening with the renewed taste of the wine, fading slowly as she speaks, "I was born... long enough ago. I grew up near here... closer to the North, but none the less lived fairly normal. My father worked as an archeologist, my mother as a sunday school teacher, my brother had his school and his friends but I had my artist pad and charcoal."
[23:40] Pontifex Jenvieve listens, closing his eyes as he attempts to picture her words in grimy black and white.
[23:43] Felice Nightfire "I did not have much need for school then, I was about seven, my brother would watch me out of the corner of his eye since father was off on a dig somewhere out by what might be known now as India..." she thinks, tapping the table cloth, "Father came home and given me my pocket watch.... his pocket watch.... something had happened on the dig, he said that they found something unusual, unexplainable caverns, he hardly slept ont he journey." she shakes her head, "His eyes were dead when I looked at him to welcome him home, but he handed me the watch and his eyes livened." she says slowly, her wings tucking more tightly against her.
[23:46] Felice Nightfire "I was very little then.... very weak." she nods and looks to him for a long while, her eyes seeing to study him, "But I could see more than anyone else, I know what is out there, and it does not care about us." she states and breathes a little harder, her eyebrows creasing deeply as she looks away, holding her head and inhaling deeply. "Long..... very long story short.... my father and mother put me into the hospital." she gesutres behind her towards the beach a bit, "And I lived there until my love could remove me and take me somewhere descent."
[23:46] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes briefly, to see if she had the pocket watch out as she told the story, then closed his eyes once more picturing the India dig.
[23:52] Felice Nightfire "He moves me into a nice flat, it was small but it was what could be afforded by him and he went to work at the factory." she says her lips pursing a bit tightly a moment. "I was able to draw more freely there... but I got so much worse." she sighs heavily, "I could not help my work, I was not conscious of the world.... my love.... got frustrated." she says and looks into her palms, rubbing at the ink there shaking her head again, "He got very angry and... decided .... must have decided to be merciful... to end my life..." she says sounding a bit forced on it.
[23:54] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes to look at her as she speaks of her death. He takes another breath and lets his eyes fall to the table cloth.
[23:56] Felice Nightfire sighs deeply and sits back, "He decided to take a lead pipe to my head three times... and three was enough." she says with a bit of a shrug. She doesn't seem to notice a thin line of deep red, near black liquid drip down the front of her forhead very slowly, like chilled molassas. "Limbo was not so bad.... coming back and learning what I had missed was difficult... as well as emotional capacities."
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