[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
In an empty field, twilight
A fortnight later


I sat there and started at the space that once held a dilapidated water tower for a very long time. It seems almost inconceivable that it's gone...

almost as inconceivable as what befell Iblis.

Oh, I will admit I felt a moment of prideful satisfaction; let us see how you enjoy being trapped in a flesh suit!, but no... what those creatures did to him was much more than that. More fulsome. The did not trap him, they remade him.

And then the horror replaced the amusement.

Not him. Never him. He should not be so reduced; diminished. The brightest, the most beloved...
And I wept.

And then... the world stopped. Time stopped. And I was no longer alone.

لدي اقتراح بالنسبة لك، معالج ....

And I wept at the sound of his voice, for I had not heard it since before recorded time began.

*************************************

It may have been centuries we talked, or a fraction of a second. I could never gauge time within The Presence of Ahura Mazda.

And I have been called upon to serve man once again; but as a necessary evil. To fill a void that Iblis left.

تفهم الحاجة إلى كل من الظلام والضوء، وكنت أفهم أنه أفضل من جميع أولادي.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath.

"Lilith..." I breathe into the air. We have much to discuss.

(Open to Lilith)
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
We knew it would come.

For four years, ever since the dream of the red city and the blue, we knew it would come. For three months, ever since the dream of Nanshe telling me what we must do.

And yet we always thought we would have more time before we had to be ready.

We very nearly were ready, that night that the earth shook.

I gathered up everything that I had been crafting and collecting, and went to find my family. I hugged Marie and Luc very tightly, and told them that I loved them. And then I told Valmont, and held him for as long as I could. We were both so full of fear and hope and love that we could barely find words, but we did not need to speak to know how the other was feeling. "I love you," I said once more, and kissed all of my family.

I dared not think of what might happen if I did not come back, what might happen if I failed. I could not think of that.

And then I ran.

Down to the river I speed, between the crashes of thunder and tremors of the earth. 'It is already raining,' I think, with a giddy, hysterical gasp of laughter. Do the Adversaries know that they have done some of the work for us? Do they care?

I know that I do not need to send word to Syl or Chester or any of the others who have been working on this great spell. Our magic has been twined so closely together over the last few months that I can sense them all, if I listen hard enough, and I know that they are all coming.

One by one we arrive at the banks of the river, just as we have planned to do for so many months. A little thrill still runs through me when I see everyone gathered. There are so many! So many who have come together for this cause, who never might have even spoken to each other were it not for their love of Excolo, and desire to keep it safe. Even if we are not all friends with each other - for Syl and I still are not, even though our respect for each other has grown as we worked together - we all love Excolo, and that is enough.

I have brought silver and mistletoe for protection - the same things that Chester taught me about in my very first lessons with him! I spread them in a wide circle around us to shield us from as much harm as possible while we work.

Our magic winds together, and we start to draw Nanshe's essence out of the earth, out of the water…

The instant that my magic touches the river, I can tell that there is something different. Not just Nanshe's essence that we have been concentrating in the water - there is something else. More divinity, more power. Something new and fresh, something that feels like spring and growth and fertility. I do not know its source, but I know at once that it is good. The new power flows into our spell, filling it with new life.

I am so deep into the spell that I do not even notice the thunder anymore. I see nothing but our threads of Power; I feel nothing except the growing magic and the rising tide of Nanshe's essence, each of us adding our own strand to the spell. Water and earth and fire and air and divinity, all coming together as one.

Air is mine - as we draw Nanshe's essence into the sky, I send out more and more threads of my own Power. We bind our Power together to make a bridge between the earth and the heavens, between the water and the sky.

The bridge is Nanshe, and the rain is Nanshe, and the earth is Nanshe. And now we are Nanshe too, as her divinity washes over us in the rain. I smile as the rain touches my skin, for now I know that we will succeed.

We have helped Nanshe give the gift that she wished to give to the people of Excolo: herself.

Est deus in nobis.

[Open to anyone working to stop the apocalypse]
[identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
Evening of Tuesday, 12 June; The Tavern of Hell

It is these pauses that are our undoing. It is then that sedition enters the fortress and our troops rise in insurrection. Once before he had paused, and love with its horrid rout, its shawms, its cymbals, and its heads with gory locks torn from the shoulders had burst in....

I wore this body here once. It was a wet night; I remember how this body stumbled, a knee going down into the dirt. The witch's mouth on mine, tasting of cigarettes. I was grieving for the Night Wind then; I am always grieving for him, it seems. Or myself. It is a fine line.

That grief was for how he had betrayed me, what he had made me feel. This grief... If I did not know better, I would say it has a taste of regret to it. That is a different savour than other sorrows; a bilious feeling, a sick pain under the ribs.  (Bodies are so useful for these articulations.) Something that feels regret can feel remorse, and that can lead to reconciliation; and those are things I will never have.

I thought I had known sorrow; but these feelings are - different enough in a way that is... unbearable. I have endured for so long. But not for much longer. I have decided to move matters on apace, faster than I planned. I had thought to wait until Rose was ready for her first blood; the symbolism appealed. But though I think she would reach that in three years, I am impatient now, as I have not been in a long time.

Come, reap.

I pick up my glass and drain it.

[Open]
[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
Wednesday, September 24th
Late enough that it is way too early
The backyard of The Dormouse


Lilith chided me to no end; calling me a sentimental fool and overly attached to the talking monkey.

And she was not wrong, not in the slightest. I was... I could not call Lucien Constantine a friend, but I had a great deal of respect for the man. Perhaps, many eons ago, before... we might have even liked one another.

In the form of smoke on the air, I slipped into the Tavern. For the obvious reasons, I could not attend in human form, but I felt the need to be there. To hear the stories, the taste the tears, to smile at the laughs and ridiculous stories. There were many of those. And there were many stories of how he helped, how we saved, how he cared. In the end... Lucien was a good man, respected and loved. It sat well with me, and it was odd that I felt it needed to.

Perhaps I am still too much of what I once was, and could never truly be again.

Dawn is coming, and My Lady waits on me for us to depart this accursed town, but I have one thing left to do. For him. I settle into my human form, and wait under her tree.

Open to Wanda
[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
Thursday, August 21st
Late afternoon, The Woods


Much to my annoyance, I have found we are just as bound to this wretched town now as the humans and petty gods are. Which is problematic, because now my human form as been labeled a murderer and I can no longer walk freely in my human form in town.

Not that I have not been busy. I can stalk the nights in my true form, and roam about the farthest reaches of the town lines and about the darker cor sprawl ners of the carnival. And Lilith has keep me very busy indeed. Between My Lilith and My Tiger Lily, I barely pay any attention to life outside our garden of delights.

But today the breeze was sweet and full of the life in the woods, and the urge to roam and stalk was too great. I slipped away in my animal form, and now I am quite sated after tracking and bringing down a large and rather mean cougar.

After I washed the blood off, I managed to find a clearing where the sun beats down on soft grass, and what is a lion but a giant housecat? With a satisfying stretch and a yawn, I sprawl out in a sunbeam and let myself doze, watching the pollen motes dance in the breeze through slitted eyes.

(Open to Alice)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
I can do it you gently
I can do it with an animal's grace
I can do it with precision
I can do it with gormet taste

But either way
Either (way), either way
I wanna kill you
I wanna blow you...
Away



July 2nd
Later at night, the banks of the Pontalier


I am far off enough that no one can see me from the buildings.  I am doubtful anyone would even notice me if they walked right below the tree I am perched in.  After an eternity of existance, one can learn to be still for quite a long time, even when trapped in human form.

I am about two hours into my vigil when the prey I am stalking comes into view.  From across the river, I can see Lucien step out onto the porch and light a cigarette.  Even from  here, my keen sight registers  the way his eyes dart about.  He finishes the cigarette... no, he abandons it and retreats back inside.  I can hear the 'click' of the lock, even from here.

He knows.

The growl starts low in my throat and escalates into a growl that echoes in the dark around me.

Witnesses be damned.  The eleventh hour has come. 

(closed)

[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
I can do it you gently
I can do it with an animal's grace
I can do it with precision
I can do it with gormet taste

But either way
Either (way), either way
I wanna kill you
I wanna blow you...
Away



July 2nd
Later at night, the banks of the Pontalier


I am far off enough that no one can see me from the buildings.  I am doubtful anyone would even notice me if they walked right below the tree I am perched in.  After an eternity of existance, one can learn to be still for quite a long time, even when trapped in human form.

I am about two hours into my vigil when the prey I am stalking comes into view.  From across the river, I can see Lucien step out onto the porch and light a cigarette.  Even from  here, my keen sight registers  the way his eyes dart about.  He finishes the cigarette... no, he abandons it and retreats back inside.  I can hear the 'click' of the lock, even from here.

He knows.

The growl starts low in my throat and escalates into a growl that echoes in the dark around me.

Witnesses be damned.  The eleventh hour has come. 

(closed)

[identity profile] kira-galliard.livejournal.com
{Early Evening- Tuesday, 29th June ~ Day 394}
{Crossroads DanceHall}


Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive
And the world turning inside out, yeah
And floating around in ecstasy, so
Don't stop me now
Don't stop me
'Cuz I'm having a good time, having a good time


It is finally time to open the doors.
The lights are on- thanks to a couple folks from the fair who came out to help me with 'em. And the musics' done warming up now- sounds of instruments tuning and and the player's psyching each other up have given over to songs playing and feet stomping along.
A few brave souls have opened the dancing and there are mostly smiles all around.

So far so good.

A lot of the younger set know me by now from hiring them for the clean-up, and I put up some signs around town, so hopefully we'll have a good turn out.
And now that the greater part of the haying is done, people are in a good mood. People like to dance and come out and see each other when they're happy. Even in a strange town like this that holds true.

Smooth my skirt as I circle the floor towards the drink stand. I'll probably take a few turns of my own tonight, but mostly my job is to meet people who don't know me yet and get them to like me enough to come back. If the night continues like this, I do think it'll turn out fine.

The band starts another song, and I find my smile is genuine.

(The DanceHall is open to all! Come on in and have fun!)
[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
Wednesday, June 19th
The Bridge of the Pontalier, early evening


It is such a frustrating thing, to be bound in this form.  It is both uncomfortable, and far too familiar for my tastes.  Lilith has grown impatient with me, and my reluctance to kill Lucien Constantine.  She mocks me for my fondness for the doctor, and my human sensibilities.  I have offered up the excuse that our CeCe could benefit from having a human parent has she develops...

but that is exactly what it is; an excuse.

Perhaps My Lady is correct.  Perhaps I have become too soft hearted, from being both trapped inside Lucien and within this human shell for as long as I have been.

These are the melancholy thoughts that occupy my mind as I wander through town, towards the fairgrounds.  It is a rather humid night, and the clouds are crowding out the stars and the sky.  There's a breeze that has the promise of a rain storm on it, but it's pleasing in it's way.  I stop on the bridge, and tilt my face upwards, inhaling deep.  I still have retained my keen sense of smell, and of sight and hearing.  I can hear the carnival games in the distance, and the lights sway and bob, dancing in the breeze.  The scent of hay, sugar confections and baked dough are pleasant, but moreso is the far off storm and electricity in the air.

With a rather contented... or resigned sigh, I hoist myself up to sit on the wall of the bridge.  People come and go from the Carnival, and to and from the businesses on Silk.  It is a curiously relaxing thing, to just sit and do nothing.

Yes.  Far too human for my tastes.

(open)
[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com
Wednesday, June 19th
The Bridge of the Pontalier, early evening


It is such a frustrating thing, to be bound in this form.  It is both uncomfortable, and far too familiar for my tastes.  Lilith has grown impatient with me, and my reluctance to kill Lucien Constantine.  She mocks me for my fondness for the doctor, and my human sensibilities.  I have offered up the excuse that our CeCe could benefit from having a human parent has she develops...

but that is exactly what it is; an excuse.

Perhaps My Lady is correct.  Perhaps I have become too soft hearted, from being both trapped inside Lucien and within this human shell for as long as I have been.

These are the melancholy thoughts that occupy my mind as I wander through town, towards the fairgrounds.  It is a rather humid night, and the clouds are crowding out the stars and the sky.  There's a breeze that has the promise of a rain storm on it, but it's pleasing in it's way.  I stop on the bridge, and tilt my face upwards, inhaling deep.  I still have retained my keen sense of smell, and of sight and hearing.  I can hear the carnival games in the distance, and the lights sway and bob, dancing in the breeze.  The scent of hay, sugar confections and baked dough are pleasant, but moreso is the far off storm and electricity in the air.

With a rather contented... or resigned sigh, I hoist myself up to sit on the wall of the bridge.  People come and go from the Carnival, and to and from the businesses on Silk.  It is a curiously relaxing thing, to just sit and do nothing.

Yes.  Far too human for my tastes.

(open)
[identity profile] catherineknight.livejournal.com
Late Morning, June 7th,
Day 372
The Abbey


When I woke this morning, my first thought was that I was still dreaming. It had been summer when I bedded down, and now I look out to see the Abbey's gardens blanketed in snow. The training yard and the lawns and the trees, all coated in white. I dressed rapidly and rushed out....it was no illusion. Snow, covering the ground. In June.

My first thought as I walked to the stables was that this must be some trick of the Devil's. The snow is lovely, soft and shining and white, but the Devil's tricks can be hidden under a guise of beauty. Perhaps he plans to destroy the town's crops, or ruin the growing season, or blight the farms, or...

But a loud whinny distracts me from my thoughts. Devil trickery or no, Hirondelle still needs to be fed.

The stables are still warm, at least, and Hirondelle is prancing at the door of her stall, stretching her neck towards me. She, at least, doesn't seem disconcerted by the weather. In fact, as I fill her grain bucket and water, she looks longingly towards the door. Boaz is already out in the paddock, and Hirondelle obviously wants to join him...well, why not. I need time to think of how to approach this, anyway. I let Hirondelle finish her breakfast, and then lead her out to the paddock.

God gave man stewardship over the animals, but that does not mean that animals have nothing to teach us. For it is Hirondelle who shows me how foolish I am being. As soon as I remove her halter, Hirondelle whirls and charges through the snow, sending great clouds of it shining through the air. She rears, prances like a filly, then drops to roll, kicking her legs in glee. I can't help laughing as I watch her, my great and dignified warmare, as she cavorts and kicks up her heels like a new foal. And it is watching her that makes me realize...whatever this is, it is no Devil's trick. It is a gift from God, meant to bring us joy.

I turn my face up to the sky, and I smile, and I give thanks, and my mare leaps with joy.


[OPEN]
[identity profile] catherineknight.livejournal.com
Late Morning, June 7th,
Day 372
The Abbey


When I woke this morning, my first thought was that I was still dreaming. It had been summer when I bedded down, and now I look out to see the Abbey's gardens blanketed in snow. The training yard and the lawns and the trees, all coated in white. I dressed rapidly and rushed out....it was no illusion. Snow, covering the ground. In June.

My first thought as I walked to the stables was that this must be some trick of the Devil's. The snow is lovely, soft and shining and white, but the Devil's tricks can be hidden under a guise of beauty. Perhaps he plans to destroy the town's crops, or ruin the growing season, or blight the farms, or...

But a loud whinny distracts me from my thoughts. Devil trickery or no, Hirondelle still needs to be fed.

The stables are still warm, at least, and Hirondelle is prancing at the door of her stall, stretching her neck towards me. She, at least, doesn't seem disconcerted by the weather. In fact, as I fill her grain bucket and water, she looks longingly towards the door. Boaz is already out in the paddock, and Hirondelle obviously wants to join him...well, why not. I need time to think of how to approach this, anyway. I let Hirondelle finish her breakfast, and then lead her out to the paddock.

God gave man stewardship over the animals, but that does not mean that animals have nothing to teach us. For it is Hirondelle who shows me how foolish I am being. As soon as I remove her halter, Hirondelle whirls and charges through the snow, sending great clouds of it shining through the air. She rears, prances like a filly, then drops to roll, kicking her legs in glee. I can't help laughing as I watch her, my great and dignified warmare, as she cavorts and kicks up her heels like a new foal. And it is watching her that makes me realize...whatever this is, it is no Devil's trick. It is a gift from God, meant to bring us joy.

I turn my face up to the sky, and I smile, and I give thanks, and my mare leaps with joy.


[OPEN]
[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com


Outside the Doctor's Office
Late afternoon, Monday May 3rd

It is one of those beautiful Spring days that poets write about, that make children look out schoolroom windows longingly, and have people out enjoying the sunshine in droves.

It is most inconvienent.

It's been increasingly harder to find Lucien alone.  That night of him railing and moaning by the fire was the closest I've come, but that damn bartender came along as I started to move in.   And now he's got the dark haired girl back in his bed and apartment.  Complication after complication.  It's not that I shy away from bloodshed, not at all.  And if the truth be told, I am getting to the point where I will kill half the town if I bloody well have to...

but now knowing exactly how long it will take to be restore to my self after Lucien breathes his last.  Well, I don;t want to be caught in human form by a lynch mob before I find out.  It would amuse Iblis, I am sure, if I were to kill the man and then find myself dangling from the hangman's noose before I revert back. 

I take a sip of coffee and shift myself to a more comfortable position under a tree.  To everyone else, I am just the mild mannered school teacher relaxing in the sun.  But not for much longer if I can help it.

(Open to Lilith)


[identity profile] marbasthefallen.livejournal.com


Outside the Doctor's Office
Late afternoon, Monday May 3rd

It is one of those beautiful Spring days that poets write about, that make children look out schoolroom windows longingly, and have people out enjoying the sunshine in droves.

It is most inconvienent.

It's been increasingly harder to find Lucien alone.  That night of him railing and moaning by the fire was the closest I've come, but that damn bartender came along as I started to move in.   And now he's got the dark haired girl back in his bed and apartment.  Complication after complication.  It's not that I shy away from bloodshed, not at all.  And if the truth be told, I am getting to the point where I will kill half the town if I bloody well have to...

but now knowing exactly how long it will take to be restore to my self after Lucien breathes his last.  Well, I don;t want to be caught in human form by a lynch mob before I find out.  It would amuse Iblis, I am sure, if I were to kill the man and then find myself dangling from the hangman's noose before I revert back. 

I take a sip of coffee and shift myself to a more comfortable position under a tree.  To everyone else, I am just the mild mannered school teacher relaxing in the sun.  But not for much longer if I can help it.

(Open to Lilith)


[identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com
Wednesday, sometime, somewhere in Dream

Once upon time there was a beautiful princess. Her hair was the colour of jet and her skin was the colour of nutmeg, and each of her teeth were like pearls. Flowers grew where she walked, so that the fields around the tower that was her home was carpeted in blooms as white as snow. The princess was very happy, all save for one thing: her fear that one day the thorn of one of the flowers would prick her. Her servants combed the field for thorns every day, trimming the stems so that it would be safe for her to walk. But still the princess was afraid, and she neglected to notice that each month the forest encroached closer on her home, until one day, standing in her field of flowers, she looked up to see the trees looming around her, undergrowth thick with thorns. Frightened, she fled inside, and as she ran she began her first bleeding, and the blood that trickled down her thigh fell to the earth and stained the roses around the tower a deep and brilliant red.

Inside the tower the princess was afraid that she was dying, for her father had always insisted that royal blood was the most precious of all things and must never be spilled. Weeping, she showed the blood to her old nurse, who laughed and kissed her cheek and told her this was the secret gift of women, and now she was blessed. So the princess wiped her eyes, and was no longer afraid of bleeding. But the thorns of the forest came for her all the same.
[identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com
Wednesday, sometime, somewhere in Dream

Once upon time there was a beautiful princess. Her hair was the colour of jet and her skin was the colour of nutmeg, and each of her teeth were like pearls. Flowers grew where she walked, so that the fields around the tower that was her home was carpeted in blooms as white as snow. The princess was very happy, all save for one thing: her fear that one day the thorn of one of the flowers would prick her. Her servants combed the field for thorns every day, trimming the stems so that it would be safe for her to walk. But still the princess was afraid, and she neglected to notice that each month the forest encroached closer on her home, until one day, standing in her field of flowers, she looked up to see the trees looming around her, undergrowth thick with thorns. Frightened, she fled inside, and as she ran she began her first bleeding, and the blood that trickled down her thigh fell to the earth and stained the roses around the tower a deep and brilliant red.

Inside the tower the princess was afraid that she was dying, for her father had always insisted that royal blood was the most precious of all things and must never be spilled. Weeping, she showed the blood to her old nurse, who laughed and kissed her cheek and told her this was the secret gift of women, and now she was blessed. So the princess wiped her eyes, and was no longer afraid of bleeding. But the thorns of the forest came for her all the same.
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Dream.

There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?

[OPEN TO ALL]
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Dream.

There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?

[OPEN TO ALL]

January 2014

S M T W T F S
   1 2 3 4
567 891011
12131415 161718
192021222324 25
2627 28 29 30 31 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 22nd, 2017 04:39 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios