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Mab - In the Calm before the Storm

 
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Mab
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PostPosted: Thu May 05, 2011 12:18 pm    Post subject: Mab - In the Calm before the Storm Reply with quote

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.” William Congreve, 'The Mourning Bride'. First performed 1697

Over these past months, I have searched tirelessly. I have sent war party after war party to forge through the ‘Lands - The home of my progeny and the inheritance of my right. Soon, yes, very soon, I feel it like the coming days of summer; they will find the Crystal Caves and free the rest of me from the prison Raquel set upon me. Until then, I bide my time and prepare. For if there is nothing else I have learned from the Oberon he has taught me well the art of strategy and tactics. Such a fool was he! Handing his tools, his knowledge over to the rest of us, like toys on a playground. He never suspected they would be turned and wielded against him.

And yet…

I am haunted by the Oberon’s words. His confidence was enticement to torture; how I wanted to shred that smirk from his cruel lips with my fingernails! I am not whole, he’d taunted. He knows nothing! He is not *more* than me. He turned his back on the power, on the prestige, on the fabric of all we had built. He walked away along with his addled-brained whore, the pair of them so full of righteous ideals. Yet it is I who is holding the precious pieces of our past together in strands of gold and silver woven by the hands of the Fates for me, as I will it alone. It is I who now determines the future of all we created. I would laugh in his face were he not the coward hiding away in his clubhouse fortress, protected by magics and delusions of autonomy.

Today I sat watching as Helene’ cried. She sobbed like a child whose favorite thing had been cruelly ripped from her and destroyed before her bereft eyes. And I laughed. It was a merry sound, my laughter; it twinkled and danced through her utterly wearisome grief. If the Oberon cared a whit for those he’d abandoned, he would not leave her rotting for my amusement. I was happy to enlighten her so. The phantom she has made of herself merely stared with empty hollows of eyes towards the distant skies. Her voice was little more than a whispering breeze.

“You see only what you choose to, sister, and then only through clouds of your own twisted perception. I am here because this is where I need to be. This is where I will do the most good.”

And Helene’s delusions continue to change and direct… nothing! She is nothing! She is but a ghost of what was and I will see her kept this way! She walked into my trap and there are no heroes rushing forth to her rescue. Not that I expected the Oberon to do such a foolhardy thing, but… I could hope.

I replay the scene when I captured the Hag attempting to seduce my most revered of Generals. I marvel at my own slyness and cunning! My own brilliance dazzles even me at times. It was so easy for me to see the shade of my sister, Helene’, riding as she was inside one of my more prized creations, the Hag. And now… I have a new tool to unleash upon the unsuspecting masses that infest this realm. My lovely tool, my Hag, the haunting hunger of the depraved soul will feast nightly on the children of this forsaken city. Only the Oberon will know the reason for this plague… that is, until I wish it otherwise. Mayhaps I shall blame this blight upon him? It is truth, for were he not here there would be no need of my Hag’s presence, no need for her to feed upon the disgusting progeny of the unwashed populace. Oh, yes, I shall make all in this world hate him as I!

However… Progress is slow and time trickles past with each slow fall of sand through the hourglass. I would hurry towards the destruction of the Oberon, but there are still too many obstacles lingering in my path. Yet I work to build up my arsenal as quickly as I can.

Which reminds… The Dragon’s have lost my prophet! I paid them handsomely to collect the girl and I care less why they have failed. Their excuses are hollow and empty upon my ears. Their disappointment was great enough for immediate and swift retribution. Like I would concern myself over whom or how many they lost?! I offered them freedom from the bane of the Bloods in their lands. And yet they must not want it as much as they laid claim. Otherwise they would have worked harder to please me. Even now their ambassador hangs skinned in my courtyard as a warning to them not to make such mistakes in the future. And of course, the money and power promised has been suspended.

The girl is mine, I made her and I shall have her!

It is a minor setback at best I am sure, for the embedded indoctrination will kick in sooner or later and draw the girl back to me. Of this I can be most certain. Unlike the Oberon, such tricks are not beneath me. He is but a fool not to use his abilities to their fullest potentials. Why have such powers if one doesn’t bother to use them? I am not so imprudent.

Eventually, all those I have culled over the millennium of plotting will find their paths leading to me, and with each new tool I will move ever closer to the downfall of the betrayer. From the moment the addled-brained whore fell I have been maneuvering for their collective ends, Manon and the Oberon. They shall drink deep of the bitter draft of my vengeance while I dance lighthearted and confident through the nights of my true sovereignty. Yes, with each slow fall of sand through the hourglass I move ever closer to victory.

Does he know? Does he sense the coming end of his days? I feel only joy at the thought of his demise… joy at the thought of the destruction of Manon. It will be an end to an era. It will be a new beginning. I shall embrace the humans under the banner of my race, and together we shall own the very essence of all things Michael would envy. Yes… I shall have everything. I shall be the new True God.

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Mab
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"Queen Mab came about doth my bed side, and swooped upon thee, with great vengeance!" P.B. Shelley
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PostPosted: Sat May 14, 2011 6:19 pm    Post subject: From the private notes of Mister Howe Reply with quote

((Author Warning: The following post is rated MA!! Foul language spouts outta Howe’s mouth like water does a fountain.))

From the private notes of Mister Howe:

02.23.11 (Earth date)
A representative from C.O.P.E. met with me today. He offered me a hefty token in exchange for more stock. Of course they are only interested in the purist of souls from my stockyard of Rhy’Din whores and brats. I am tempted, I must admit. I’ll have to undercut my other “allies”, (I snicker as I write that), in order to make the exchange. It’s not like they are stepping up and offering me power greater or at least equal to what those bastards Lankyn and DeMuer stole from me. But, messing with primordials has never been an easy contract. They have so many issues, and although weakened by their mythic status their powers seem to wan and swell much like the damn seasons. One can never tell when they are bluffing or can pack one hell of a punch! I will have to consider my next move carefully.

03.14.11
There was an… “incident” today. I was fairly certain that had not Dewey stepped in when he did Cheatham would have attacked me outright. I think he suspects what I am up to. Thank goodness the old bastard Dewey’s still in the dark! Or perhaps Lankyn’s tricks have left the oldster limp and powerless?! That works quite well for me! Dewey, limp and powerless, heh, I like that, a lot!

On the up side, there have been no repercussions as of yet from undercutting my other “clients” in order to fulfill the contract with the C.O.P.E.

Tomorrow I have a meeting with one of the Fangs of Bhaal. If only it was the most enticing Nocent or the delicious Lady Dracina! Alas, it is someone known as “Sam”. It shall be interesting to learn what it is the cabal requires of me at this time. Perhaps I can entice them to join forces with me in my endeavor to rid Rhy’Din of the morose masses? Somehow I doubt it; they seem rather focused on the Scathachian Bitches. I myself do not see the worth of such an investment. Nothing but a bunch of wild, dirty-footed, female do-gooders; kill ‘em all and let their god sort ‘em out I say!

03.17.11
Wraithburn has refused to meet with me! I doubt he has what the Fang wanted anyway. He’s all pomp and bullsh*t. For a primordial he sure has his head notched high!

What?! Is he clueless as to who’s been in charge for the last several millenniums?!

Apparently, otherwise he’d have bent over backwards and kissed my a** to appease me! It doesn’t matter; I have other avenues I can use to acquire what the Fang wants. I have to admit I’m curious as to what she plans to do with the things… She was rather tight lipped and closed however. I got nothing off of her. Nothing!

The Bitch.

I can’t help but consider that this may give me the chance to earn more favor with the Fangs. And maybe, just maybe I can find other fabulous fare than what has been requested? Hmm? I wonder. Will this entice the luscious Nocent and the delicious Dracina into meeting with me again? I would so enjoy spending time with both or either of them. So tasty and like-minded are they… I can’t say the same about this latest Fang. Although she holds some beauty, her despise of males was evident and her attitude was something less than desirable. But… I will endeavor to please her nevertheless on the off chance it wins me further attention from the others. Yes, this Samara may be a bit sharp and pointy, but her sisters in the cabal far outweigh any and all of her personal unpleasantness.

I can hold on to hope… and my very vivid imagination!

3.27.11
Mab is pressing for more. More, more, more! That bitch is insatiable! She wants this she wants that! She wants my attention, and then a second later she doesn’t. Now she thinks she wants high tech weapons. What the hell are a bunch of savage elves gonna do with high tech jack sh*t anyway, that’s what I wanna know! A little iron and they are cowering in the f*ck*ng corner. Yeah, that’s right. There’s a reason ‘fairy’ is a derogative term and it isn’t about being homosexual either! Stupid humans such short life spans and memories.

So now, she wants me to find her what?! High tech that miraculously will work where none has before?! The bitch is outta her mind. But I shouldn’t complain because it makes her easier for me to manipulate. Yes, she is going to give me what I want and she isn’t even going to know she’s doing it.

And she calls herself a god. Yeah, and I’m Peter Pan. Ha!


4.12.11
Trouble is stewing. One of Kali’s minions found me today at our Marketplace offices. Just appeared outta nowhere, pretty as ya please! Like we’d never agreed to keep things on the down-low??! What would have happened if Dewey or Cheatham had caught scent of the minion! One can’t keep a secret if the secret keeps popping up at the most inconvenient times and places! Hot damn, I am gonna have to contact that Hindu bitch and give her a piece of my mind! Just because she’s not been relegated to mythos doesn’t mean she can butt-in whenever her little black heart desires!

Her minion brought news of Kali’s anger at being short-changed. I reminded the minion that as of yet I have received nothing in exchange for my product. Neither money nor power! How f*cking dare they presume to dictate to me when they haven’t come through on their side of the bargain, not even a jot! With a wave of a hand the minion slammed me into the large paned glass window and let me dangle there like a bug!

I am cursed by this physical sh*tbag of a body!!!! But soon, very soon, that too shall change and I will be the one tossing them around like rag dolls!

I am gonna make that bitch and her bratling horde pay for this insult, and I am gonna love every second of it!!!
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Revenge is best served cold and late, that way they wont remember to duck! Howe
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PostPosted: Mon May 16, 2011 5:45 pm    Post subject: BHO Reply with quote

~ Work is the curse of the drinking classes. ~ Oscar Wilde

Bel leans forward to activate the image orb before lounging back in her desk chair. A hint of a smirk alights on full, red lips as she stares into it with solemn green eyes. She takes in a deep breath then begins speaking.

“It’s been months since Corwyn vanished. I could rant and rave but truth is I’m simply too busy these days to get all worked up over things I have no control over. I would marvel at the change in myself, if I were sure it was a change I had made of myself and not a product of Corwyn's machinations.” A pensive expression moves over beatific features.

“I am still haunted by Scottie’s words to Sid and me about Corwyn. I know he’s right. A leopard doesn’t change its spots… But I don’t want to believe Corwyn would manipulate those nearest and dearest for no good reason. Surely I can have that much faith in him? And yet… Where is he now? I can’t reach him through the telepathic link we share. Nor can I get a straight answer out of Trev. He just looks at me with that inscrutable expression, not even a shrug. Obviously he knows something… Corwyn never does anything that Trev doesn’t know about… But as always he remains tip-lipped and unreadable.” A flicker of anger brightens green eyes then just as suddenly softens as her thoughts turn elsewhere.

“I miss Sun… I often wonder where she’s gotten herself off to this time. I wish I knew! I’ve tried to reach her through our link, but there is nothing but static. Wherever she’s roamed she’s too far away for me to find her.” She pauses, nipping at her lower lip thoughtful. Shaking it off, she continues talking to the orb in a firmer tone.

“The truth is… all of what I am saying is little more than a ruse to avoid the issues looming before me.

I unwittingly started a war with the Dragons. Oh, yes, do not doubt it! The claiming of the Thorn and the slaughter of the war party sent to retrieve her? Of course the Dragons want retribution. If the same had happened to us we would too. If Corwyn doesn’t return soon and agree to meet with the Dragons’ chosen ambassador… war with the Dragons will be upon us. They will not take second best.” Bel gestures at herself as her smirk widens. “And let’s not forget how closely associated with the Yakuza the Dragons have gotten! War in the streets of B-Town and highly likely here in Rhy'Din too!

Another war…” Bel sighs heavily as sudden shadows overcast beatific features. “Over my lifetime it seems the one thread that remains intact and ever-present is war. Perhaps that is the state of our existence after all? How many times must we do this dance before we wake up and realize the futility of it all?” A slight half-shrug is dropped as her gaze dips downwards.

“I’ve had no news from the Old Temple District. Our spies report all is quiet at the Temple of Mab. But word from Elfhame suggests Mab's war parties have doubled and the destruction they are leaving in their wake begs to question what is it they are looking for? There must be something she’s seeking otherwise why would she have allowed this horror to be perpetuated against those who called her their Queen? Against her own lands?! None of this makes any sense and there isn’t a soul willing to explain it.” Her gaze lifts to stare again into the eye of the orb before her.

“Nor are we any closer to unearthing what DCH is currently up to. Seems they are behaving themselves, which I find too incredible to believe.

Why are so many of my race so freaking tight-lipped?! So many secrets…” agitation taints her tone.

“I hate to say it, but have all of the immortals lost their minds? Is that the cost of our immortality? Secrets and insanity? The inability to trust anyone? Certainly this is not the path I would choose…

Ahh, to have been created human… or even Elven? Either would have been more preferable I like to imagine.” Her voice turns pensive and wistful as she speaks before hardening anew.

“It’s useless to wish for what cannot be… and I still have a pile of paperwork demanding my attention before today ends. I would rather immerse myself in more pleasant undertakings; a night of heavy drinking, or chatting with friends… alas, no playtime for the head of House Onyx, I’m afraid… Just stacks and stacks of papers that need my undivided attention. Damn titles!”

Bel drops another sigh as she leans forward and snicks off the image orb.
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PostPosted: Wed May 18, 2011 2:01 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

From the journal of Mab’s most esteemed General Camthalion Anwamane:

“It’s been ten days of hard riding and we have only just found our way into the Mountains of Aiwvenlee. It will take another week on the backs of our already fatigued mounts to reach our destination. We are running out of places to look. One would think that she would recall where she’d placed the Oberon’s prison since she lays claim to its creation. Except, she is changed since her reappearance.

Some whisper of madness. It is my firm belief she’s always been a bit insane, but I agree that something is off with her these days. She is missing chunks of her memory and her power diminishes with distance. I cannot remember when last I felt so free to have my own thoughts, my own feelings, not those stirred by her whims and demands.

I find myself of late dreaming of another. Longing for her embrace, to feel her hand caressing, for the taste of her lips on mine, to return to the life we once shared. The dreams we had! A family we could call ours, away from the politics of the courts, away from the machinations of the elders. Then I awake and realize the futility of such dreams. Even now my true love lies in a prison of Mab’s creation, caught like a trapped animal, a mere shadow of herself, for the Crone’s sole amusement.

Why did Hèllénè come to Rhy’Din?

If I could but think straight when I am there! I could free Hèllénè. I could declare my undying love for her and we could run away together, reclaim what we once had!! Start anew...

Or is it too late? She did come upon me whilst I slept, riding in the Hag... was it her goal to suck my life away? Has she come to hate me as much as she once loved me? Would she see me dead and rotting without reprieve?

If only I could talk with her, explain how I feel, what my heart and soul desire! But after all this time would she listen? I am plagued by doubt. I fear my return to the lair of the Crone where I am nothing more than a puppet pulled by her vicious, self-satisfying strings!

Being ensnared by Mab has cost me everything!!!

Perhaps I should hinder this search? Half of Mab is better than the whole!”
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"A kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life." - Sun Tzu
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PostPosted: Fri May 20, 2011 3:57 pm    Post subject: The Mother Cries Reply with quote

Her love is like an island
In life's ocean, vast and wide
A peaceful, quiet shelter
From the wind, the rain, the tide.
'Tis bound on the north by Hope,
By Patience on the West,
By tender Counsel on the South
And on the East by Rest.
Above it like a beacon light
Shine Faith, and Truth, and Prayer;
And thro' the changing scenes of life
I find a haven there.

- Author Unknown


“I lift my eyes to the false sky above and know no one can hear me here in this prison fashioned by the hand on the one named the wisest among us. I recall days of bliss, happy days of unity and know they shall never come again. Too much sand through the hourglass, too many rains have washed the ground barren. I know this and yet I yearn for those times like a child would for its mother. Of love and laughter, of nurturing our children, watching as the land grew and flourished like our families once did. We were happy once.

When did it all change?

Mab would say it happened when Manon fell. But I know otherwise. It began when Mab felt the first pangs of jealousy and greed. It was when Mab turned her desires into her ambition. And this, dear children, was long before the angel known to us as Manon fell.

I recall the heady days of Summer, before the first Winter fell and the loss of so many of our children. My heart breaks with each bittersweet remembrance. Every face, every laugh, I know each one personally as if they came from my own womb. Each of you is my child. Each of you is as precious today as any ever was. Alas, the past cannot be our future. Indeed, the past was not even true.

Hear me my children, for what I say holds the key to your salvation. This is my gift to all of you.

We were not of this world. We were not even of our own creation, the ‘Lands. We were never meant to walk those realms but we dared to dream. Dared to challenge. We broke our own bounds and did what was forbidden. Is this the cost to be paid? Are we to destroy all we have created? In the name of… what I must ask?

Mother, Maiden, Crone. The Holy Trinity remade. The price of our arrogance will be paid in full by our children’s children, unless Mab is stopped.

I came here out of selfish desire. I wanted what was stolen from me. I wanted to get my heart back. I stay because I must. I stay because I love you. You are my heart tenfold, and without you I would be as desolate as the desert sands. I know this now.

I must save all we created not for us, but from us.

I am the Mother. And my tears are of renewal, each tear a kernel of Hope. Mab cannot see it for she is blinded by her insanity, her arrogance and spite. But as each day passes another of you awakens and sooner than she realizes all she has sown will wither and die. There will be nothing left for her to reap. Only the destruction she has already implemented.

But you, our children, can stop even that. The power of change is in your hands now. This is my song to you, my last gift - your freedom from our unintentional tyranny.

We did not know what we were doing. We never meant to lay boundaries upon you. We never intended to force you into the same servitude we were created to adhere to. I grant you what we forgot to give: Truth and the right to govern yourselves.

I shall stay in this prison until I have freed every last soul. This, my dear children is all I can give you. Too late… too long… have I waited to grant you these simple gifts.

If only I had listened to the Oberon! None of this would be happening!

Take heed of this song, for if we wait too long, my darlings, there will be nothing left of our homelands.”
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PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 7:23 pm    Post subject: The Wandering Oberon Reply with quote

"Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other." - Carl Jung

“I know why I married her. She is one of the most stunning of women I’ve ever known. Not merely because of her beauty, it enhances the whole, but it is not the whole. When first I met her there was innocence in her eyes. And betrayal. A child who had been stolen from her promised Fate. I saw in her all that we Above have never known. I wanted to protect the innocence and wash away the pain. I knew even then I would never be able to accomplish either.

It wasn’t until coming to Rhy’Din that I saw a potential for a shared path between us. Until that time I was caught in my world and her ever searching for hers kept us apart. In Rhy’Din none of that mattered. We were in a sense free to love, free to be together. Free to walk a path that had been impossible in our pasts.

I won’t deny there have been rough periods. I have yet to see any relationship that doesn’t have such bumps along the road. With each new challenge we’ve been able to grow stronger and more together.

Of all the women I have ever known Sun is the only one that has accepted me as I truly am. She sees inside of me; she’s seen the best of me and she’s witnessed the worst. Not once as she used her love as a weapon.

When she left seven years ago, I thought it would be a few weeks, perhaps months, never expected it to turn into years. As the time of Mab’s war neared and there was still no sign from her, no contact, I knew I needed to find her. I have to make sure that Mab does not lay hands on those most precious to me. She will make them suffer, as she has not been able to make me.

This is the monster my heart has created.

I made Mab into the horror she is today and I shall pay for eternity for the transgression. I could lament that had I known what would come then I would have rethought my actions. There were warnings, wise men with wagging tongues, Brothers with whispers of caution, and prophets who foretold a bleak but distant future filled with battle and blood. I laughed at them all, so sure I was of my new direction. So sure I was that this was my destined path – this is what God called upon me to do. I was righteous in my pursuit of my Duty, unshakable in my belief.

Hèllénè understood. She was the first to truly capture my heart and the first to offer me the solace of pure love. She was like rain to my desiccated soul, filling me up with her gifts of joy and laughter. Hèllénè was everything Mab wasn’t. She saw the future that I wanted to create. Mab could never understand that. She didn’t really want to. Mab only wanted the power, the status, the control. Sun didn’t care about all that nonsense. She loves without boundaries; she gives without expectation. To her, love is as pure as the girl she once was, untainted by the hardships, the atrocities to which she’s been subjected.

Sun is the rarest among us; a pure soul untainted by the monster she’s been made into.

As I step out of the portal, I cannot believe my eyes. Before me lies a desert wasteland. Sand stretches for miles upon endless miles, broken only by beribboned dunes shaped by the hand of the mighty winds. The sun beats unmercifully down upon the desolate landscape, a mighty burning furnace.

I don’t understand why my wife would wander here. This is the last place her kind would ever wish to be caught; of this I can be most certain. Staring out over the badlands I catch her song, light as it is, distant but here. I’m in the right place. But for all that is Holy, I can’t puzzle out the why of it.

Destiny is a funny thing. Today it directs me to tackle the desert to reclaim my missing bride.”
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 12:20 pm    Post subject: In a small, secret cupboard... Reply with quote

[Ed. This interlude follows the end of “Out of the Frying Pan” in the “This, the now” thread.]

In a small, secret cupboard…


Oh listen, sister
I love my mister man and I can't tell you why
Dere ain't no reason why I should love dat man
It must be sumpin' dat de angels done plan…

Tell me I'm crazy, maybe, I know
Can't help lovin' that man of mine.
~ Billie Holiday



“Three days since I have been gone from Rhy’Din. Three days absent from where his presence is strongest. True, it has been a few weeks since I have actually been in his presence, what with him off manipulating and furthering his own agendas. All the same, three days gone and my mind while in this lucid, half-wakeful state is still filled with thoughts of him. One would think we were newly wed, the bloom still on the rose. The thought of him, the images in my mind’s eye, if I did not know better I would swear that he were just over the next horizon.

The bastard.

The stone I rest against is cool upon my cheek, but the sun through the single dirty high window of this cupboard filters through the lashes of my half-lidded eyes setting everything afire, and the oppressive heat of the desert at the solar zenith is making me cranky. I am reminded of a day centuries past, the day we met.

Snake in the grass.

It is not surprising, given my nature, that for the first six centuries stuck upon the mortal plane I was treated not only as barely more than chattel but also as merely a child. Being female and knowing the time frame one can postulate the reasoning for the former. Given my nature and lack of control, one can glean the reasoning for the latter.

I spent those first many long years moving from a darkness fueled by rage into a semi sort of existence. Due to the time allotment of one life - permitted to me because of how I appeared even in glamoured form - this amounted to myriad of lives lived with scarcely any thought. I traveled through my reality with but one goal. Never giving thought to much beyond the obsession to exact revenge and return to my people, my Isle, my purpose.

I was a ghost in my own skin, to my own mind. Between the Seven Years War and the march towards the French Revolution, my light was swiftly fading. At the point my neck rested firmly awaiting the executioner’s axe, I was more than ready to end the emptiness all my lives had become.

The well-timed gift of my Nether heralding my flight I took as portent and, indeed, fled.

A full turning of the sun I spent within its ankle deep mists, healing and perfecting a glamour to take me through the next century and onwards. Ruminating on how to employ what I had at my immediate disposal to further my own ends.

Nearly a half-century had passed since I emerged from my Nether a new man. Literally. Facial hair can be a forgiving cover, and being male provided me with opportunities a female glamour would not. Yet, the time of this current life was nearing its close.

And thus, the first day I met m’One we met as men. Equals. Or so I deluded myself at the time.

Brazen cad.

I know what he is, who he is. For all that one soul can truly know another. I know why I love him, why I am his in name and all, despite that even my roomie has wanted him dead more than once.

He is everything that is whispered behind his back by those standing leagues away, casting shield spells and imploring their various deities he cannot hear them now.

He is quicksilver; artful, calculating.

He is also slippery, deceptive, manipulative, and completely ruthless.

Yet, I am not nor have I ever been easy to love. I tend to throw things, heavy things at vulnerable areas. My appearance is not the only characteristic that speaks of adolescence. He has oft called me petulant and rebellious, among much stronger adjectives.

He unconditionally accepted the monster that I was made, allowing me to grow towards learning an acceptance of the Beast I carry.

He sweeps me off my feet and frustrates me to my last frayed nerve, but I walked into this with my eyes wide open. The traits that my husband possesses are a part of his nature as the Beast is mine. Loving him would be nothing if it were not a love of all he is, for all he is has made him the one I love…

I can almost hear his s…

And my mind is playing tricks. Does the sun ever dip in this godsforsaken land? I would swear it has not traveled an inch down the window’s dirty pane. Still, I shall be safe until it falls to dusk; the dust of disuse in here is heavy. No fingerprints mar the few tomes left on low shelves.

Hmmm… Those two look strange.

Latin? No. Something older. Something, perhaps, to peak the interest of m’One, smooth feathers if he has happened to return before I get back and wonders to where I have gotten? I did leave a note, did I not? And why am I not surprised the monks have works bound in human leather and written in… yes, blood? Oh aye, these shall make a fine gift.

He deserves one pleasant gift from this trip.
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PostPosted: Wed Jun 22, 2011 1:40 am    Post subject: Mab - In the Calm before the Storm - Trespass Reply with quote

Revenge converts a little right into a great wrong.
German proverb


“The days seem endless; empty, dull. I wait hopeful that my Star will fall again soon. Every night, I gaze up into the endless star-studded sky and ponder which one is she? When will she return? The days stretch into oblivion but each night is an eternity in itself.

What ambition I once had has fled me. What I prized has lost all sheen. I am lonely, empty and adrift. I have grown to hate myself for acts I cannot undo, for things I never should have done. Will they cost me my Starlight? Could they have already done so? What does she see from so high above?

What emotions are theses; from where do they spring and how do I stop them?

Wounds I cannot heal. Trespasses I cannot undo…

I wonder… will the kindnesses I have granted outweigh the evils I have committed? Will I be given the same compassion that those who are human have been gifted? Or will I stand judged as Brethren?

Months back, I released Rachel.

She sat speechless and vacant at the table one night. Not a quarrel or spiteful remark from her for weeks just that bleak, blank stare at the floor. She had become less and less responsive over our time together. Now she seemed more like an empty shell than a person. What fire she’d held had been extinguished. I could feel her soul slipping further and further away into oblivion where no soul should be left to wander.

Before the Star, I might have overlooked it. Perhaps turned a blind eye or been amused. My comforts outweighed hers didn’t they? She was only a monkey. A thing for me to use and manipulate to suit my needs and desires.

The Star changed all that by opening something up inside of me. At least I think it was my Star? I don’t like contemplating the alternative that I might be becoming one of the monkeys.

That night, the night I freed her, I sat at the table and watched Rachel. It was as if I saw her clearly for the first time. I felt her gloom like a shroud wrapping around me. Unfamiliar such reflections are to me, alien in scope and breadth. I lifted my fingers to my lips and passed them to her forehead without really thinking it over. I didn’t want to consider the why, I just wanted to give her the peace she had craved and pleaded for so long. I didn’t stop to consider the consequences.

What drove me to it? Compassion? Unlikely. Pity? Perhaps. I would like to say it was because I felt some kind of empathy for her, but if I am honest I must confess I doubt that. It is far more likely that I was afraid of what the Star would think of me. Forcing this unwanted servitude upon the already dead woman. Yes, Viki has a charitable soul, she never liked the enforced enslavement to begin with.

Her body fell limply into the soup she’d made for our dinner that night. Dead. Her soul? I don’t know who laid claim to it. I buried her in the backyard, next to a wild rose bush. I think she liked the flowers. She spent long hours smelling them, tending to them though they had done fine without her attention. Why I even cared I couldn’t say.

I am alone now.

(To Be Continued...)
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PostPosted: Wed Jun 22, 2011 10:25 am    Post subject: Mab - In the Calm before the Storm - Trespass Part II Reply with quote

It never dawned on me the work it is to keep a body alive. Once Rachel was gone I was forced to go to Market, to cook and clean for myself. Small trivial things that I took for granted while Rachel was there to do them for both of us. I thought of claiming another, but knew it would take the same path, lead to the same unfortunate conclusion and possibly alienate the Star. I had to adjust, learn to do these things for myself. At first they seemed mountainous too much for me to surmount. And then as days slid past things became normal, easy.

It was at the Market that I first saw the tainted witch. I knew her by the aura that surrounded her; an avatar of a primordial, a voodoo witch. But it was the scent she carried that whispered her secrets. The smell it was more than familiar. It brought up a fierce bloodlust and I could not help myself. I saw opportunity and I wanted, no, required revenge! The first emotion I had felt in a long time that I knew only too well before I was cursed to this physical existence. It was familiar. It felt old and trusted. It held a fragment that whispered of my existence lost.

Belial. The bitch knew Belial and if I were careful she’d lead me straight to her.

In the Westend the magic twists and roils. It’s hard to locate people in the maelstrom. You can’t trace your quarry with smell or trinkets or magic. You just get turned around and around like spinning in a never-ending circle of futility. The Westend is a living, sentient creature. I realize that may sound of madness, but until you’ve walked the streets you cannot pretend to understand. The Westend is alive and there is none other like her. Fickle, cunning, illusive, she is the harshest of mistresses’, the cruelest of hearts. She wants to break your spirit and crush your soul by denying you whatever it is you seek.

I had found Sid outside of the Westend a while back. I had taken my anger out upon her brutally, savagely. It had felt so good! And for a time it granted me some solace to this cursed existence. But Sid isn’t the reason I am here. Sid had nothing to do with my mortality. Corwyn and Belial are responsible for the Hell in which I have been bound.

Yet… even now as I think back upon it, I can recall every nuance, ever sensation and yes, every emotion invoked. It had unlocked the lust that rides the physical. It had also held a dark throbbing energy that had overwhelmed at the time. It hadn’t taken long for me to crave it; like a drug I wanted more and more of that power, more and more to feed the seven-headed beast of Sin. But I would never seek out my child again. I knew what would happen should I end Sid’s existence. The Star would stop shining for me forever and this I would not invite. So I turned my back on Sid and her alluring essence, on that dark throbbing energy and my desire to devour it.

Belial. Well, that is a whole other chapter and the pages had yet to be written (at least to my satisfaction). I do not believe that my Star cares as deeply for Belial as she does for Sid. Sid I will spare for my Starlight but Belial is mine to do with as I will it.

So it is that I followed the witch. From stall to stall, the orphans running about behind her carrying the goods she bought with smiles and laughter. The chocolate-skinned temptress, the avatar of a primordial God, seemed popular with the disenfranchised, which stirred in me only hatred and disgust.

A false prophet of a false God.

Were I my old self I would be duty bound to smite her. But that wouldn’t get me what I wanted, so I shoved those thoughts aside and ignored my sense of Duty. I was cautious not to get caught and she never seemed to suspect I was there. Like an obedient servant she led me directly to my prey.

The first day I perched on a building across from the worn out looking brownstone and watched. I couldn’t sense Belial inside but there were many wards woven to protect the place. Still I wanted to be certain before making any moves.

The second day I grew hungry and thirsty. I had to abandon my post for several hours. The physical form is far too fragile and demanding. I spent the time cursing my fate and Michael’s ineptitude at keeping me from this physical prison.

On the third day I was rewarded for my patience when Belial finally stepped through the threshold onto the exterior porch. Even from the distance I knew it was her. At first sight I was caught off guard by her beauty. It brought me back to a time before; after the Great Wars… Yes, it was after the third and final war that I truly tasted the talents of the Hell-bound whore. I had been infatuated with her then. There was a time when I had allowed her to touch me. She'd awakened parts of me I hadn’t known existed. Humans would call it lust, but it was something much greater than that. A bond only our kind can share. A mingling, a merging of essence that goes beyond anything physical.

Those days are long gone.

(To be continued...)
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PostPosted: Wed Jun 22, 2011 10:39 pm    Post subject: Mab - In the Calm before the Storm - Trespass Part III Reply with quote

As I continued watching Belial I saw past the beauty. I noted that she looked oddly tired and pale. I recall how it inflamed my anger that realization of her. How dare she, I had thought, because she wasn’t cursed as I had been, no. She still retains the ability to flee from the physical at her whim. Yes, my hatred only grew stronger in those moments watching her unaware.

She seemed sad. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to. I refused to let any sentiment cloud my desire to reap my vengeance!

I waited until she slipped back inside then I hopped down from my perch as quickly as I was able, (due to restrictions of the physical I couldn’t simply bound down to the street like I once had the luxury to do). I cursed her every step of the way right up to her front door.

In my mind the fist I used to pound upon the fragile wood of the door was pounding her to a pulp. The surge of adrenaline was sharp, unfamiliar, it made me feel invincible. Odd what human shells do to our psyche. The rush of chemicals is similar to drug induced euphoria. Intoxicating and thrilling, they practically sang through me.

When she opened the door I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed her around that pale, perfect throat and slammed her into the wall a full seven paces back from the doorway. A picture rattled then fell the glass covering it shattered much like I wanted her bones to. I tightened my grip, she was choking, couldn’t breath. It felt exhilarating watching her struggle like a human, holding her life in my hand.

If only that were true…

Of all the creatures that have haunted and hounded me the most it was she! And I had her right where I thought I always wanted her.

I threw her away from me into another wall a few feet away. She hit it hard her body leaving an indention and cracking the drywall. More carnage to furniture and wall hangings but I was too wrapped up in the violence to pay such trivialities’ any true attention. A few steps and I had her again about her throat. I shook her like a cat might a rat it’s just caught for dinner. Those green eyes bulged, filling with tears as her hands flew to mine and she clawed at it weakly. Surely she had more of a fight in her I recall thinking at the time. But she wasn’t fighting against me, no; instead she was attempting to speak. Her words were a sputtering sound lost without any breath to push them out of her.

I remember laughing. I recall the overwhelming sadness she telepathed to me but I was too quick for her! I didn’t let her inside my head. I slammed down my mental barriers keeping that emotion and whatever words she was trying to convey out. I blocked it all like one might too bright sunlight. I wouldn’t let anything stop me. I thought of all I had lost and this… thing under my hand was the cause. All I wanted was to destroy her! And I knew how easy it would be! Ruin her physical shell and that would send her screaming back down to Hell and to the first of my Brothers to betray me!

I slammed my fist into that face, over and over and over again, until blood flowed from her all over me and the sound of bones crunching were all I heard! It felt amazing! The give and tear of flesh under the hammer and might of my curled knuckles was like an elixir from Above.

Still not satisfied I threw her around like one might toss a ball. Into this wall then that. At one point she bounced off the wall and practically flew into another room from the force of my attentions. The sound of her hitting something inflexible made me feel buoyant. When I stepped into the room, she was lying still on the floor before a heavy oaken cupboard. She looked dead, broken, like a lifeless doll. I didn’t care.

I snatched her back up and was about to toss her through the window when the voodoo witch appeared from somewhere out of the back of the house. The memory of everything but Belial under my bloody hands is foggy, hazy and unreal. The witch lifted her hands as if trying to ward me away. It was dreamlike, distant, indistinct. She was screaming at me in a language only she could make sense of; French, German, English, Spanish, like a mix-bred mutt.

I lifted my free hand to backhand the woman, I just wanted her to shut up and make her leave me alone. I wanted her to go away and let me do what I wanted to my most hated of enemies’. If I did more damage than that I know I would have shrugged it off considered it what the bitch deserved for her profane behavior. Forsaking God for primordial ooze is punishable by death.

It was then that Belial reacted.

I thought she had given up. That maybe she even wanted me to destroy her, or send her back to Morningstar. But no! Perhaps it had been a ruse all along? Or her devotion to the primordial’s slut woke her up? I may never know…

She laid her small hand on my shoulder and that was it. I felt my body light on fire with the surge of energy that spiked through me. It was like a million suns bursting inside of me. I fell to the floor. I vaguely recall a bloodied Belial flopping down beside me and then everything went dark. I had never known such energy before… but in that instance I knew the secret the three of them had been carrying.

Abominations!

The word holds so little meaning today. But there was a time when such beings were hunted to near extinction. We flooded the world to end them. She was beyond that now. She was beyond even my talents. All three of them are. What they had done was more blasphemous than brethren mating with humans!

I woke up I don’t know how long later. It could have been hours or days. The sun was high in the sky. I was lying on my back in a WestEnd alley I wasn’t familiar with. How I had gotten there or how long I had been I still don’t know.

I had so many unasked questions. I wanted to know how, when, why, but there were no answers, not then and surely not now. Belial is likely to smite me down should I dare go near her or that voodoo bitch she seems to prize ever again. But I know. I know and although there is no one yet to tell I know their secret! And one day, she and her cohorts, the oh-so-sanctimonious Raphael and my traitorous daughter Sid will pay. Of this I am certain for I shall be the one to call them to task for their sacrilege, to this I swear! For I am the Hand of God, vengeance is and always will be mine!

My only hope is that somehow, someway my Star will find it in her heart to forgive me my Duties and understand my ambitions. Surely… I mean more to her than they? For now I kneel and pray to my Brother Michael. I hope he hears me and answers soon for this secret of theirs must be unveiled and properly punished."
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 10:25 pm    Post subject: In the Calm Before the Storm - Mabs Prophet Reply with quote

Memory comes when memory's old
I am never the first to know
following this stream up north
where do people like us float?

there is room in my lap
for bruises, asses, handclaps
I will never disappear
for forever, I’ll be here

whispering
morning keep the streets empty for me
morning keep the streets empty for me

I learned to not eat the snow
my fur is hot, my tongue is cold
on a bed of spider web
I think about to change myself

a lot of hope in one man tent
there's no room for innocence
so take me home before the storm
velvet mites will keep us warm

whispering
morning keep the streets empty for me
morning keep the streets empty for me

uncover our heads and reveal our souls
we were hungry before we were born
- Fever Ray. “Keep the Streets Empty for Me”



There is too much blood! It rains over me like waves crashing against the rocks. I stare up into the stormy, dark sky above and wish the vision would cease but it keeps unfolding like a nightmare unleashed. Everything feels out of control. I scream and nothing comes out as if my voice has been sheared away. My heart races, a fluttering beast attempting to escape from its prison. Images of faces I do not know flash before me; twisted and contorted in pain, dying or already dead. Broken. A wasteland of death.

And then there is one I do recognize.

Fierce Warrior, covered in gore. Her sword glows with a light from within; a light that burns where it spears through the darkness. It seems an extension of her and not a weapon wielded. Her smile is not the gentle kindness she’s shown me, but full of bloodlust and vengeance. Her black curls caught in the wind whip around her with unholy vigor as she moves like liquid towards the pale Enchantress.

Cleaved in half, I watch helplessly as she crumbles to the cold, hard ground. Lifeless. Nothing now but a memory of what once was. Belial lies amidst the others that have fallen before her… and I know more will join them. And I can do nothing to stop this, nothing to help!

The pale Enchantress has cast a pall upon me!!! As certain as a prison of my own flagging will I am caught frozen in place. Trapped. Unmoving. I cannot do anything. My soul screams for freedom, but my body dances to her whims!

She is the bringer of destruction, Beauty that holds inside of it the Beast. She calls to me, her voice undeniable, I cannot turn from it. I cannot stop the desire to move towards her. To lend my feeble voice to hers, so powerful it would make the Gods ache to hear it. I open my mouth; my words are a protest. I do not want to join in her song. It is ugly, discolored, painted with evil and avarice. I know all of this but I cannot stop myself. It is as if the pale Enchantress will own me.

It is as if she always has…

I look down and watch in horror as blood drips from my fingers. In my hands is a thick lump of raw meat. It smells of copper and feels like death. Again I scream my denial and my ears are filled with lyrical laughter. So thunderous it rolls over me tossing me aside like a leaf bereft its limb. I am left broken and bloody, my last breaths come in ragged, silent gasps as the pale Enchantress leans over me, laughing… laughing in triumphant. I am but a tool to be used by her… and discarded like little more than trash.

And when the nightmare should fall away and the upside-down world right itself, instead I am left on this bloody ground surrounded by the cries of a thousand murdered souls. Of lights snuffed out before their time. Beauty mangled and left thoughtlessly to rot. No honor for these fallen… they will be left and forgotten like animals to the butcher.

The battle rages on, and we, the dead, are naught but ghosts caught in a tableau of terror, our bodies puppets to be commandeered, used without our consent. I see the dead walker, his skin thin as paper, his eyes hollow holes as he makes the dead dance to his vile deeds.

Will the horror never end?? What voice I had is gone with the last of my breath… my heart is as still as the lump of flesh I’d held in my hands. Even the laughter is vague and distant to dulling ears. The acrid smell of smoke that would have bitten and stung is nothing but a misty curtain over the gory scene of the battlefield.

In the distance the fires burn and I know all I have ever held dear is gone… I know I had a hand in its destruction, but the memories are unmade yet… only this nightmare vision grants me any clues…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awake in my bed at House Onyx with a terrified gasp; tears stain my cheeks. The nightmare seemed so real… Nightmare, I call it, when I know otherwise. Here in this place far from everything I’ve known the visions come stronger, more vivid than they ever did before. My gift… my curse has a tighter grip on me now… in this new land.

I feel… fear. I feel a sense of the inevitable. I fear I walk this path alone… Maybe I always have? Through the dark and empty streets of my soul I wander with buildings of steel and glass, cold and haunting, empty and crumbling, my only company. Has this always been?

Memories of me… lost memories of those I may have been are like fragments from a broken mirror. I am one, but I have been many. This is truth. Truth I know inside but have never given voice to. I was created with a destiny in mind… and I wonder if it is inescapable?

Whispers of the past and what may come are intangible to most. Secrets few care to carry, few would truly seek to know, and yet… to me they come, to me they seek a voice. Whispers of what was, what may be haunt… why do I see the hell and not the heaven of them?

Who is the Pale Enchantress? I know she is my enemy, but… fear overwhelms. I could not stand up to her in my vision. Is that the truth of it? Am I to fall under her spell no matter the path I choose? I need help… but to whom do I turn? I watched as she slaughtered all of the Elves sworn to protect me. I cannot let such sacrifice happen! I must find a way to end her before she ends us all!!!

_________________________________________
Lin-Mae
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.

~ William Shakespeare. Macbeth.


((Authors' Note: To retain timeline continuity, please review this post! Thanks!))
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