Cold this wind, cold this rain,/Cold these outstretched hands

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[Midday on Sunday, August 30 (day 91)]
[Miskatonic Café]

The rain's held steady, grey sky and wet earth and the air between running for the horizon. I've my own jacket now, but I borrow Iago's regardless; it's morning when I leave, and he'll not be going out afore I'm back. And if he's going to be abed--and I'll not begrudge him that--I can at least have the smell of him and his jacket 'round me.

Headed up through the park to the Abbey to catch service, and my jeans were soaked from midcalf down from the slow grasp of wet grass. Stayed for a little afterwards to pass time and words with Oya. Nothing of detail or import--I've no mind for where to begin on those--more a chance to greet her again. Interesting times, indeed. Head out into the rain again, and the wind's catching loose strands of hair across my face and the rain's soaking them down and I catch myself laughing a little trekking through the park to Main Street, light and passing delight. Love this weather, the wet bite of wind and the stroking patter of the rain and the light as grey as rock-dove feathers.

See the Miskatonic up ahead as I come out of the park, and wander across the slick cobbles of Main, long slow lope down the center of it and no worry for traffic, not on a Sunday midday of this weather. Music sounds low and clear as I open the door, get myself a coffee and take a seat in the window to watch the street--easy enough to do, the weather's kept the usual crowd rather down and I've my pick of tables. Drape Iago's jacket 'cross the back of an empty chair and take my hair down, start untangling it as best I can. Coffee here, I think, and maybe a sandwich, and then I'll bring something back for Iago, get home, sink into a hot bath... Going to be a fine day.

[Open first to Lucien, later to others]

Comments

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

"Don't suppose you'd like him better if he'd taken it up on whatever it was offering? --wait, Wanda was after saving you from it. How's that offense measure against turning it away?" Slow smile as I stare out at the rain. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't, true. But let's be honest, you and I.... I'm willing to lay good money on the odds that Dorian was not at all polite in his refusal. May have just piqued his interest more in our friend. And as to Wanda and I.... vicious circle. She's trying to save me, I'm trying to keep her safe.... neither of us will win, because we're both pig headed and willing to die for the other. Lost causes, both of us." I inform her almost cheerfully.... almost.

Glass cheerfully goes on about the popcorn cart and I can't help but grin.
"It must have been a spectacle to see. Makes me wish I was still around the show more often. Maybe I'll suggest they put the damn thing in the Cabinet of Curiosities. Behold! The very popcorn car that laid low a God." I say in my best pitch voice, snickering. Look around, and sure I'm not being noticed, bring a cigarette to my lips and inhale. "Want one?" I ask, holding out the pack to Glass.

Oh dear, Verdi has been getting into some trouble, from the sounds of it. "I think may be yes, or else starting t'be trouble, Not sure. Think she may be starting t'match the Shuck a touch much in time and nature. And pastime." Mutter something akin to a swear under my breath. "Great, just what we need, another vicious minded God. Should have Miao spend some time with her. Miao can temper just about anyone." Smile just thinking about her and give that some serious consideration, it's not a bad idea, really.

Smoke a bit more as Glass ruminates about the end times that have passed and the strangeness she's seen. I think I caught her off guard with my outlook. "But Glass, the end didn't come. Not really. The world went to hell in a handbasket, but it didn't end. Humanity survived. Man survived. Lucifer, The Morningstar... was cast down because he would not serve Man, he though himself better, more deserving to the Creator's love.
I would think, whatever's in the Tower, would dearly love to see it ALL end. That is, if you believe in the legends..." I add for good measure, with a smile, flicking my cigarette into an ashtray. "I do believe that He's striving for another end, if it will happen, who am I to say? But I do believe that's what he wants...."
My eyes ignite, and features go sharper, more feline as Marbas takes semi control and turns out face to Glass. "Actually, I have it on rather good authority that is exactly what he'd like." His voice comes out quietly, and like before, he's gone. I can only stare at Glass wide eyed as she stares at me.
"Would it be an understatement to say that I really hate it when he does that? Shit Glass.... sorry." I mumble, raking a hand through my hair.

We go silent for a time, lost in our own thoughts. Marbas has become so much stronger since I came here. I know the terms of the contract, only my death can seperate us, but now I have to wonder if he can bring it about on his own. And, of course, my freind has become completely silent on the matter.

Glass quietly swings the conversation back to Wanda, and I blink several times, trying to push out maudlin thoughts. "Lucien, you know her better than anyone else, yes? 'mind her of that, next time you tell her she's not a bad person." Sigh and prop my chin up on my hand. "Know her? Does anyone really know her? Spent close to five years together, and nearly as many apart. She is as familiar to me as my own skin.... and as foreign to me as a stranger. She used to be so open and trusting... and I know that I am mostly to blame for that." Stare out into the rain, towards home, wondering what she's doing right now. "But she's darker now, vicious.
The whip, the knives, the lack of restraint... that's not the Wanda I knew."
Sigh again and smile at her ruefully, stubbing out my cigarette.
"Sorry Glass, the rain makes me mopey and depressed."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"...I'm willing to lay good money on the odds that Dorian was not at all polite in his refusal. May have just piqued his interest more in our friend." I shrug. May have, or the thing being a god of hate and lies may've taken it as natural, and who can say? "And as to Wanda and I... vicious circle. She's trying to save me, I'm trying to keep her safe... neither of us will win, because we're both pig headed and willing to die for the other. Lost causes, both of us."

I snort dismissively. "Pair of idiots," I say, smiling to take the sting out of it. "Don't know why I like you two's well as I do." Shake my head at his offer of a cigarette. "Suppose it must be the conversation. Well. Long's whoever gets to't first manages to die usefully, suppose I can't really say much 'gainst that."

"Great, just what we need, another vicious minded God. Should have Miao spend some time with her. Miao can temper just about anyone." Nod at that. I took her effect on Lucien for being his care for her, at first, but I'm thinking I had the wrong of it. Remember the afternoon at the Miskatonic after I found Julian, and the pale cold rage I was in, and her deft unknotting of it. Didn't much soothe my misery, but surely took me away from lashing out so cruel.

"She does have a gift for it," I say thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea." Sunday, the 'Boy's closed on Sunday... Well, I can stop in for a social call, I suppose. "I'll ask her."

"But Glass, the end didn't come. Not really. The world went to hell in a handbasket, but it didn't end. Humanity survived. Man survived."

Wave one hand. "Always someone surviving. That world broke, came its end of days, and the dead rose and the seas bled and strange things came crawling in through the shattered walls of what used t'be. And now if you look close, water flows uphill and trolls live in the deepest woods and dragons turn 'neath the mountains. This," I wave a small circle in the air with the hand holding the coffee cup, "isn't what came before. That ended. This is its own thing."

"Lucifer, The Morningstar... was cast down because he would not serve Man, he though himself better, more deserving to the Creator's love."

"Iblis, you mean? --wait, morning star?" And a flick of memory... "Lucifer, like a match? Hah. It's a sense of humour to't, then." Smile and explain. "Tanwen means white fire."

"Whatever's in the Tower, would dearly love to see it ALL end. That is, if you believe in the legends..." and I smile at that, resting one elbow comfortable on the table. "I do believe that He's striving for another end, if it will happen, who am I to say?" and his eyes light up like coals and his face shifts and draws itself towards points and his blown-glass flesh clouds as something else says "Actually, I have it on rather good authority that is exactly what he'd like."

Silence for a moment, then.

Consider him careful and pull my hand back from the pocket of Iago's jacket as he mutters an apology. "You looked closer to solid there for a second, dyn gwag," I say, gaze sharpening. "Take it that's the demon holding place where your soul used t'be?"

"Know her? Does anyone really know her? Spent close to five years together, and nearly as many apart. ...But she's darker now, vicious. The whip, the knives, the lack of restraint... that's not the Wanda I knew."

"I hear her moods are carrying her away, yes," I say thoughtfully. "But as I understand it, she's not killed anyone for those moods, not raised hand nor blade t'anyone who hasn't come t'her for it save those who jumped Zann--and she's my sympathies there, I might add--and not set herself to visit cruelties on whoever came passing. So 'less there've been murdered dead secreted in her basement since Friday, I'd 'mind her that it's what folk do that carries weight, not only what they want." I glance at Iago's jacket lying neatly over the chair, and smile a little. My stormcrow.

"She gets swallowed by the idea she's vile, sometimes," I say softly. "'m not taking it for so." Mad, maybe, and with strange joy in blood shedding and shed, but not vile.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

The silence stretches out for what seems like an eternity to me, but it can't be more than a minute or two. For a second I think she's gonna bolt, and I really can't blame her, but she settles back into her chair, still eyeing me up.

"You looked closer to solid there for a second, dyn gwag, Take it that's the demon holding place where your soul used t'be?" Consider her for the space of time it takes me to fish another cigarette out of it's pack and inhale. "That would be him, yes. A bit more aware than he was. Another "fuck you very much, Excolo" moment in my life. It's quite interesting and maddening. I don't recommend it at all. Clinical opinion, of course...." Take a long drag, holding the nicotine in, let it sear my lungs, then exhale. "Just hope you never really get to meet him. Surprised the fuck outta me that Wanda didn't cut and run again when she had the pleasure."

Conversation turns back to my poor, poor Wanda.
"I hear her moods are carrying her away, yes......," Glass' words fade a bit as I dwell. Carried away? She's missing a chunk out of her goddamn neck, terrified to sleep, reckless and impulsive but given to tears if I look at her wrong.
"....She gets swallowed by the idea she's vile, sometimes" Her voice cuts softly into my thoughts. "'m not taking it for so."
"She's not vile, she's just sick." I think my heart breaks to hear me say aloud what I've been trying to avoid admitting for days... weeks. "She has good days, days when I think it's all in my head, but then something else happens and I swear she'll lose herself in the tears or the anger or the fear she's keeping right under the skin..... she's sick...." My voice breaks a bit, and I clear my throat quickly to cover it. "And there's nothing my medicine can do to fix her." I manage to sat calmly enough, suddenly feeling as hollow as Glass says I look to her.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"That would be him, yes. A bit more aware than he was. Another "fuck you very much, Excolo" moment in my life. It's quite interesting and maddening. I don't recommend it at all. Clinical opinion, of course...."

Oh, interesting. "Is't only for being so near the tower, that it--he's come out? Or something else?" And then, thinking on I really hate it when he does that, "Has he had much to say?"

"Just hope you never really get to meet him. Surprised the fuck outta me that Wanda didn't cut and run again when she had the pleasure."

"Really?" I say, studying him. "It's not surprising me at all." That's the woman who made her life as actress and who sings like to nothing I've ever seen, and spoke of ripping her own tongue out rather than losing Lucien. "What'd he come out for, or have to say?"

"She's not vile, she's just sick," and yes, I think that's the right of it. "She has good days, days when I think it's all in my head, but then something else happens and I swear she'll lose herself in the tears or the anger or the fear she's keeping right under the skin..... she's sick...." and I catch a catch in his voice, and let it be only clearing his throat, I hope, "And there's nothing my medicine can do to fix her."

"Clear, then, you ought be looking to something outside your medicine," I say thoughtfully, "and while I trust it'd not cross your mind for a second let me make it clear that I'll have you not going north for it. That aside..." Sip my coffee and think. "What is there in town? Syl, may be? She works the closest to herb-witchery that I've seen in years, and my mam could help folk like that, sometimes. Or Oya or Miao? Wanda places the wildest of her moods as particular recent; may only be all she's dealing with. Takes folk in different ways, when it grows to be overmuch." Shrug a little. "Myself, I sleep and visit graveyards, sometimes at once, and count myself lucky for falling apart so neatly."