Friday, October 30, 2009
Jack Matthias set aside the report, and rubbed his eyes through his glasses. It was impossible, but there it was.
Finally, he got the report from the Isles. His brother had not gone down without a fight. They found blood under his nails. They did a DNA test, and ran it against known criminals in the Isles. It didn’t show up. Then they ran it against known heroes. They had a match.
A fellow named Masonry, who had died a year ago. However, he was allegedly alive and well and operating in the Isles.
Then, just a week ago, he received a text message from Trip saying that the data base had been updated and maybe everyone should be aware of something. Jack read about the new members of Safe Havens, and what they were doing there. He read the dossiers of the members, and decided that he should meet them sometime. Especially one.
Bladeless, who had just recently admitted that he was the long-dead Masonry.
This is the report he put aside. Did they know? Trip must have known. Trip could have stopped it, but she was of the belief that anyone who applied to Havens must have a good reason, and should be accepted for what they were. Masonry had been a member before. It was okay to welcome him back.
Jack went to his locker, and pulled out his suit. He would wait.
Bladeless came down dressed in casual clothes. Jack was in the TV room, which had a good vantage point of the entrance. Bladeless waved to Jack, heading toward the lockers. “Stop right there,” Jack said.
Bladeless stopped, turned around slowly. “Everything all right?”
“No, everything is not all right.” Jack felt his suit hum, and knew that Bladeless would hear it. “I know who you are.”
Bladeless said, “I’ve made no secret about it.”
“You don’t belong here. You belong with those murderers that those people are running from.”
“Can’t you believe I’m trying to change? I want to be a hero again.”
Jack didn’t want to hear it. He reached out with his hand, and invaded Bladeless’ mind. Bladeless stumbled, and something came up to block him, a wall of nothingness. Jack pushed. Bladeless fell against the wall.
Jack shoved, and got through the blackness, and saw the horrible things Masonry had done. He had a total disregard for people. Jack saw his brother’s death, and felt the lack of feeling that Masonry did. Jack almost tore out his mind right then and there.
Then he saw the passion, the love he was capable of feeling. He saw Masonry’s loss of intelligence, what he had gone through himself. Jack couldn’t excuse Masonry of what he had done. However, he couldn’t kill him out of hand. Jack was a hero, not a murderer.
Jack weighed the pros and the cons. According to Bladeless, he couldn’t die. But he could suffer. Jack went over to Bladeless, lying on the floor, stunned. He touched Bladeless’ third eye with his thumb. Jack knew he’d be incapacitated after this, but it would simply satisfy his thirst for vengeance.
“This is going to hurt,” he muttered. “Not as much as you’ve hurt me.”
And he started to tear Bladeless’ mind apart.
Finally, he got the report from the Isles. His brother had not gone down without a fight. They found blood under his nails. They did a DNA test, and ran it against known criminals in the Isles. It didn’t show up. Then they ran it against known heroes. They had a match.
A fellow named Masonry, who had died a year ago. However, he was allegedly alive and well and operating in the Isles.
Then, just a week ago, he received a text message from Trip saying that the data base had been updated and maybe everyone should be aware of something. Jack read about the new members of Safe Havens, and what they were doing there. He read the dossiers of the members, and decided that he should meet them sometime. Especially one.
Bladeless, who had just recently admitted that he was the long-dead Masonry.
This is the report he put aside. Did they know? Trip must have known. Trip could have stopped it, but she was of the belief that anyone who applied to Havens must have a good reason, and should be accepted for what they were. Masonry had been a member before. It was okay to welcome him back.
Jack went to his locker, and pulled out his suit. He would wait.
Bladeless came down dressed in casual clothes. Jack was in the TV room, which had a good vantage point of the entrance. Bladeless waved to Jack, heading toward the lockers. “Stop right there,” Jack said.
Bladeless stopped, turned around slowly. “Everything all right?”
“No, everything is not all right.” Jack felt his suit hum, and knew that Bladeless would hear it. “I know who you are.”
Bladeless said, “I’ve made no secret about it.”
“You don’t belong here. You belong with those murderers that those people are running from.”
“Can’t you believe I’m trying to change? I want to be a hero again.”
Jack didn’t want to hear it. He reached out with his hand, and invaded Bladeless’ mind. Bladeless stumbled, and something came up to block him, a wall of nothingness. Jack pushed. Bladeless fell against the wall.
Jack shoved, and got through the blackness, and saw the horrible things Masonry had done. He had a total disregard for people. Jack saw his brother’s death, and felt the lack of feeling that Masonry did. Jack almost tore out his mind right then and there.
Then he saw the passion, the love he was capable of feeling. He saw Masonry’s loss of intelligence, what he had gone through himself. Jack couldn’t excuse Masonry of what he had done. However, he couldn’t kill him out of hand. Jack was a hero, not a murderer.
Jack weighed the pros and the cons. According to Bladeless, he couldn’t die. But he could suffer. Jack went over to Bladeless, lying on the floor, stunned. He touched Bladeless’ third eye with his thumb. Jack knew he’d be incapacitated after this, but it would simply satisfy his thirst for vengeance.
“This is going to hurt,” he muttered. “Not as much as you’ve hurt me.”
And he started to tear Bladeless’ mind apart.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Bladeless stood outside of the magic room, looking into it. The room simply hummed with power and magic. It gave him goose pimples.
Going against his gut feeling, he entered the room. In the center of the room was a sphere, hanging impossibly in midair. There were obelisks and a few chests scattered around the room. The chests had no locks on them, but he really didn’t want to open them up to see what was in there.
There was a recessed area, where it looked like a circle had been crudely etched in the stone. He stepped inside.
A column of dark fire shot up and surrounded him. He jumped back from it – it hissed and seethed around him. He cautiously approached it, and put his hand through it. It went around his hand like water, and started crawling up his arm. It changed into something that looked like a black salamander, with glowing green eyes.
He cried out, yanked his arm back and shook the thing off. It fell to the floor, and started crawling to him. He stomped on it, and it exploded in what looked like dark blue goo that got all over his boot.
“Well, at least that ward works.”
Bladeless looked up to see Grim in the doorway of the room. “Grim, how do I get out of here?”
“Curious about magic, Mase?” He started walking around the room. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Bladeless watched Grim through the curtain of black fire, unsure of what he was going to do.
Grim continued talking, “It seems the rest of the wards work.” He motioned to the walls around him. “There’s markings everywhere, markings warning those who carry any malevolence toward me or this group, that they would be struck down by confusion at the very least, or white fire that would cling to them and eat away at their bodies and souls at the very worst. Obviously you passed.”
“I don’t have anything against you, Grim.”
“Of course not. I was a good fuck, after all.”
“Grim, I’m different now.”
“Are you?” He pointed to the dark fire. “You created that. That circle is neutral: black, white, grey, hedge, ceremonial magic all work there. You activated the black magic around you by merely entering.” He jumped up on one of the obelisks and sat down, dangling his legs off the side. “Now, what gets me is how.” He summoned up a ball of light. “I wonder…” He threw it at the dark fire. It exploded in a shower of sparks, white and black. “Interesting.”
“What?”
He jumped off the obelisk. “Why don’t you just step out of it?”
Bladeless took a step through the dark fire. It felt cold, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. He came out of the circle, and the dark fire receded. He looked down at himself to see little black things, like leeches, attached to him.
Then Grim raised his hands, a huge ball of white light in the center. He threw it at Bladeless. Bladeless had no where to go, and the white light hit him square in the chest. The white surrounded him, like an aura. The leeches burned and fell off, disappearing into the brightness of the light.
“Neat trick, Gr—“
Another ball of white light headed his way. This time he had the sense to move, but he still got hit in the back by it. Again, it encompassed him; this time it seemed to stick to him. He smelled something burning, and realized it was his hair.
He put his hands on his head, but took them away. His gloves began to smoke, starting up a scent of burning leather. He looked at Grim, and saw another volley of white light come at him. Bladeless backed up, but suddenly the stone turned to mud, and he was stuck, surrounded by a white fiery circle. His armor started to melt, his mask burned away.
“Grim! What’re you doing?!”
Grim coldly tossed another ball, hitting Bladeless in the face with it. Bladeless howled in pain as the whiteness started eating away at his skin. He fell face-first into the fiery circle, his entire body now encased in angry white flames.
Grim stopped, looking down at the body, waiting for the whiteness to dissipate. The smell of burning flesh was almost overpowering. Then, as he watched, a layer of blackness encompassed the body, forming a barrier between the white light and the body. The blackness grew darker, almost like ink, and the whiteness winked out.
“Grim?” came a voice behind him.
Grim didn’t even turn around to see Rusty in the doorway. He was standing over the body, watching the pool of darkness. It moved a little, then the figure of a body sat up.
“Grim,” said a rough voice that sounded like it was coming from the depths of hell, “that hurt.”
“Good,” Grim said, turned his back on him, and walked past Rusty, out of the room.
Going against his gut feeling, he entered the room. In the center of the room was a sphere, hanging impossibly in midair. There were obelisks and a few chests scattered around the room. The chests had no locks on them, but he really didn’t want to open them up to see what was in there.
There was a recessed area, where it looked like a circle had been crudely etched in the stone. He stepped inside.
A column of dark fire shot up and surrounded him. He jumped back from it – it hissed and seethed around him. He cautiously approached it, and put his hand through it. It went around his hand like water, and started crawling up his arm. It changed into something that looked like a black salamander, with glowing green eyes.
He cried out, yanked his arm back and shook the thing off. It fell to the floor, and started crawling to him. He stomped on it, and it exploded in what looked like dark blue goo that got all over his boot.
“Well, at least that ward works.”
Bladeless looked up to see Grim in the doorway of the room. “Grim, how do I get out of here?”
“Curious about magic, Mase?” He started walking around the room. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Bladeless watched Grim through the curtain of black fire, unsure of what he was going to do.
Grim continued talking, “It seems the rest of the wards work.” He motioned to the walls around him. “There’s markings everywhere, markings warning those who carry any malevolence toward me or this group, that they would be struck down by confusion at the very least, or white fire that would cling to them and eat away at their bodies and souls at the very worst. Obviously you passed.”
“I don’t have anything against you, Grim.”
“Of course not. I was a good fuck, after all.”
“Grim, I’m different now.”
“Are you?” He pointed to the dark fire. “You created that. That circle is neutral: black, white, grey, hedge, ceremonial magic all work there. You activated the black magic around you by merely entering.” He jumped up on one of the obelisks and sat down, dangling his legs off the side. “Now, what gets me is how.” He summoned up a ball of light. “I wonder…” He threw it at the dark fire. It exploded in a shower of sparks, white and black. “Interesting.”
“What?”
He jumped off the obelisk. “Why don’t you just step out of it?”
Bladeless took a step through the dark fire. It felt cold, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. He came out of the circle, and the dark fire receded. He looked down at himself to see little black things, like leeches, attached to him.
Then Grim raised his hands, a huge ball of white light in the center. He threw it at Bladeless. Bladeless had no where to go, and the white light hit him square in the chest. The white surrounded him, like an aura. The leeches burned and fell off, disappearing into the brightness of the light.
“Neat trick, Gr—“
Another ball of white light headed his way. This time he had the sense to move, but he still got hit in the back by it. Again, it encompassed him; this time it seemed to stick to him. He smelled something burning, and realized it was his hair.
He put his hands on his head, but took them away. His gloves began to smoke, starting up a scent of burning leather. He looked at Grim, and saw another volley of white light come at him. Bladeless backed up, but suddenly the stone turned to mud, and he was stuck, surrounded by a white fiery circle. His armor started to melt, his mask burned away.
“Grim! What’re you doing?!”
Grim coldly tossed another ball, hitting Bladeless in the face with it. Bladeless howled in pain as the whiteness started eating away at his skin. He fell face-first into the fiery circle, his entire body now encased in angry white flames.
Grim stopped, looking down at the body, waiting for the whiteness to dissipate. The smell of burning flesh was almost overpowering. Then, as he watched, a layer of blackness encompassed the body, forming a barrier between the white light and the body. The blackness grew darker, almost like ink, and the whiteness winked out.
“Grim?” came a voice behind him.
Grim didn’t even turn around to see Rusty in the doorway. He was standing over the body, watching the pool of darkness. It moved a little, then the figure of a body sat up.
“Grim,” said a rough voice that sounded like it was coming from the depths of hell, “that hurt.”
“Good,” Grim said, turned his back on him, and walked past Rusty, out of the room.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Grimaulkin took off his shirt and shoes, and left them at the door. In his arms were the items that everyone gave him, items with their essences. In the old days, he would make a fetish with them, something to control them. For some reason, though, he didn’t even have the desire to do something like that – he wanted to help them.
Grim entered the circle barefoot and shirtless. Rusty had kindly marked it out on the floor for him. This was serious conjuring, and he no longer had his robes, so he had to work minimally. Normally, he would have worked skyclad, but he never knew who might come into this more public place.
Grim set the items down, and pulled out his silver athame. First, he called the quarters. Then he re-etched the circle in the floor, making it stronger. Grim could see the white glow of the circle, something he hadn’t seen before. He would make things stronger soon, by carving into the stone symbols of magic. Unfortunately, most of the symbols he knew were for dark magic, so he needed to look up more symbols for white magic.
Grim heard a sound and looked up to see Kalius at the door. “Hi,” he called.
“I’m here to help,” Kalius said.
“But I already cast the circle. You can’t come in.”
Kalius walked forward, and his foot touched the edge of the circle. Then he stepped over it. The circle only wavered, parted to let him in, then closed up behind him. Grim stared in amazement at him. Kalius only smiled. Grim started to smile. “Okay, let’s get to it.”
Grim turned to the items on the floor and knelt before them. Kalius knelt beside him. Grim picked up Kalius’ item first. He concentrated, pulling his energy up and directing it into the athame. He envisioned the power that he had, a pure white light, and envisioned it in the point of the athame. He drew a symbol on the item, a combination symbol of protection and power of his own creation, so it had his power in it, and no one else’s. Although the item would show nothing to the naked eye because the silver knife was not edged, to someone with magical sight they would see the symbol glowing white.
He held the item, and envisioned power in it. Then he felt Kalius put a hand on his shoulder. Grim felt him open himself up to him, to be able to use his own power of the gods. He didn’t need it right now, but by the end of the ritual, he might.
He placed the item down and turned to Mind’s. He did the same, etched the symbol on it, poured power in, and placed it down. He did the same to Rusty’s. He turned to Raina’s.
Raina’s was already glowing gold, showing its magic in the circle. Grim took some power from Kalius and got high for a minute. He reached for the item, and held it in his hands. I use white magic, he thought. It helps, not hurts. Do not break the spell on this, but help it. He drew the symbol, and it glowed white like the others, but was layered on top of the gold glow. Then, even as he watched, the white symbol began to glow a brighter gold. He smiled, set the item down.
Next, he raised his arms and hands over the items as if in benediction. He envisioned the Word they would use, and the short ritual they would perform, either with their will or in their actions. He knew Kalius, Mind, and Raina would be able to perform it by will, and he felt that Rusty could do it with his telekinesis. The protection part of the symbol would ensure that no dark magic would find its way in the spell.
He looked down at the items, and the symbol and item glowed, each a different color. Kalius’s symbol was white on a creamy ecru, Raina was bright gold on gold, Mind was bright blue on dark blue and Rusty was bright green on dark green. His power had combined with their essences. The ritual was complete.
He glanced back at Kalius and nodded. Kalius released Grim, and Grim thrummed with power. He got up with his athame and walked around the circle, taking its power within the athame and into himself. Then he thanked the quarters – no longer banishing them as he used to – and the room filled with a sweet smell of growing grass. Grim knelt and put his palms to the floor, and the energy flowed gently out of him, so he could ground himself.
“How was it?” Kalius asked, getting up from his kneeling position.
He looked at the items. No longer in the magic of the circle, they looked normal, without even a scratch.
“I think they’re cooked.”
Grim entered the circle barefoot and shirtless. Rusty had kindly marked it out on the floor for him. This was serious conjuring, and he no longer had his robes, so he had to work minimally. Normally, he would have worked skyclad, but he never knew who might come into this more public place.
Grim set the items down, and pulled out his silver athame. First, he called the quarters. Then he re-etched the circle in the floor, making it stronger. Grim could see the white glow of the circle, something he hadn’t seen before. He would make things stronger soon, by carving into the stone symbols of magic. Unfortunately, most of the symbols he knew were for dark magic, so he needed to look up more symbols for white magic.
Grim heard a sound and looked up to see Kalius at the door. “Hi,” he called.
“I’m here to help,” Kalius said.
“But I already cast the circle. You can’t come in.”
Kalius walked forward, and his foot touched the edge of the circle. Then he stepped over it. The circle only wavered, parted to let him in, then closed up behind him. Grim stared in amazement at him. Kalius only smiled. Grim started to smile. “Okay, let’s get to it.”
Grim turned to the items on the floor and knelt before them. Kalius knelt beside him. Grim picked up Kalius’ item first. He concentrated, pulling his energy up and directing it into the athame. He envisioned the power that he had, a pure white light, and envisioned it in the point of the athame. He drew a symbol on the item, a combination symbol of protection and power of his own creation, so it had his power in it, and no one else’s. Although the item would show nothing to the naked eye because the silver knife was not edged, to someone with magical sight they would see the symbol glowing white.
He held the item, and envisioned power in it. Then he felt Kalius put a hand on his shoulder. Grim felt him open himself up to him, to be able to use his own power of the gods. He didn’t need it right now, but by the end of the ritual, he might.
He placed the item down and turned to Mind’s. He did the same, etched the symbol on it, poured power in, and placed it down. He did the same to Rusty’s. He turned to Raina’s.
Raina’s was already glowing gold, showing its magic in the circle. Grim took some power from Kalius and got high for a minute. He reached for the item, and held it in his hands. I use white magic, he thought. It helps, not hurts. Do not break the spell on this, but help it. He drew the symbol, and it glowed white like the others, but was layered on top of the gold glow. Then, even as he watched, the white symbol began to glow a brighter gold. He smiled, set the item down.
Next, he raised his arms and hands over the items as if in benediction. He envisioned the Word they would use, and the short ritual they would perform, either with their will or in their actions. He knew Kalius, Mind, and Raina would be able to perform it by will, and he felt that Rusty could do it with his telekinesis. The protection part of the symbol would ensure that no dark magic would find its way in the spell.
He looked down at the items, and the symbol and item glowed, each a different color. Kalius’s symbol was white on a creamy ecru, Raina was bright gold on gold, Mind was bright blue on dark blue and Rusty was bright green on dark green. His power had combined with their essences. The ritual was complete.
He glanced back at Kalius and nodded. Kalius released Grim, and Grim thrummed with power. He got up with his athame and walked around the circle, taking its power within the athame and into himself. Then he thanked the quarters – no longer banishing them as he used to – and the room filled with a sweet smell of growing grass. Grim knelt and put his palms to the floor, and the energy flowed gently out of him, so he could ground himself.
“How was it?” Kalius asked, getting up from his kneeling position.
He looked at the items. No longer in the magic of the circle, they looked normal, without even a scratch.
“I think they’re cooked.”
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Pyroblades regarded the blond man in a black trenchcoat standing at his table in the Pocket D. “How do I know you’re Grimaulkin?”
“Step outside and I’ll show you,” said the blond.
Pyroblades took a long drag on his cigarette and blew it out slowly. “Don’t think so.”
The blond sighed. He fished around in his coat and came up with something that looked like a small stick. He tossed it on the table. Pyroblades looked at it; it was a finger bone.
“What happened to you?” he asked, as he shoved the chair next to him open with his foot. “You’re not black.”
Grim took the seat. “I’ve been Redeemed.”
“Got baptized by a holy roller?”
“Baptized by fire.”
He took another drag. “Let’s not get into religion, huh? People kill each over lesser things.”
“That’s what I’m here about.”
Pyroblades had no eyebrow to raise, but his brow twitched. “About that vamp lady?”
“Yes. Don’t kill her.”
“Gonna need more money to make that kind of decision.”
Grim pulled out an envelope from his coat and put it on the table. “There’s a thousand in there to make you forget.”
Pyroblades picked up the envelope and peeked in it. “What about the little girl you hooked me up with?”
“Let’s forget about her, too. Do you need more for that?”
Pyroblades stuffed the envelope in his jacket. “Nah, I’ll let it go as a favor. Why the change of heart?”
Grim got up. “Just forget about her.”
“Forget about who?”
Grim nodded. “Good. Be seeing you.” He turned away from the table.
“Hey, forgot your finger.”
“Don’t need it anymore,” he said, without looking back. Pyroblades picked it up and twirled it absently on the table. It kept pointing to the door whenever it stopped.
“Step outside and I’ll show you,” said the blond.
Pyroblades took a long drag on his cigarette and blew it out slowly. “Don’t think so.”
The blond sighed. He fished around in his coat and came up with something that looked like a small stick. He tossed it on the table. Pyroblades looked at it; it was a finger bone.
“What happened to you?” he asked, as he shoved the chair next to him open with his foot. “You’re not black.”
Grim took the seat. “I’ve been Redeemed.”
“Got baptized by a holy roller?”
“Baptized by fire.”
He took another drag. “Let’s not get into religion, huh? People kill each over lesser things.”
“That’s what I’m here about.”
Pyroblades had no eyebrow to raise, but his brow twitched. “About that vamp lady?”
“Yes. Don’t kill her.”
“Gonna need more money to make that kind of decision.”
Grim pulled out an envelope from his coat and put it on the table. “There’s a thousand in there to make you forget.”
Pyroblades picked up the envelope and peeked in it. “What about the little girl you hooked me up with?”
“Let’s forget about her, too. Do you need more for that?”
Pyroblades stuffed the envelope in his jacket. “Nah, I’ll let it go as a favor. Why the change of heart?”
Grim got up. “Just forget about her.”
“Forget about who?”
Grim nodded. “Good. Be seeing you.” He turned away from the table.
“Hey, forgot your finger.”
“Don’t need it anymore,” he said, without looking back. Pyroblades picked it up and twirled it absently on the table. It kept pointing to the door whenever it stopped.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Grimaulkin slowly opened the door to the apartment and closed it quietly behind him. The studio was dim, lit by the moonlight filtered through the curtains, but he knew his way around. He took a sniff of the air – it smelled of incense and blood, and something underneath, something that smelled almost rancid.
He turned and faced the room. He could hear Dysio on the other side, moving around in bed. “Grim?”
“Yeah,” Grim replied, walking across the room. He casually stepped across the magic circle etched in the wood floor, and the rancid smell almost overpowered him. He stopped in the middle as his stomach rolled. He took a few deep breaths through his mouth to get rid of the smell.
“You okay?” He could see Dysio in the moonlight, sitting up in bed, the silver in his chains glistening.
“Yeah,” he said, and continued on through the circle. He stopped about five feet away from the bed, and was assaulted by another smell – a dead skunk.
“You reek,” Dysio said, getting up out of the bed. As usual, he was naked, and he moved with a gentle grace up to Grim. The smell grew stronger, and Grim couldn’t even look at him. “You can take off the glamour, it’s just us.”
“It’s not on,” Grim said, and finally looked up at him. “It’s me.”
“What happened to you?” Dysio lifted Grim’s head by the chin and looked closely at him. “Did you get laid by an angel?”
He started to smile. “Sort of.”
Dysio let him go and stepped back. “What the hell did you do?”
Grim held his arms open. “I’ve been redeemed.”
“Redeemed?” Dysio stepped back, backing up against the bed. “By who? By what?”
“A Mystic Shadow.” He gazed at Dysio. “I’ve been cleansed. I’m free, free of the demoness, free of the darkness.”
Dysio folded his arms across his chest. “Oh yeah? What about all the power you wanted?”
“I don’t need the demoness for that. It’s right here.” He pointed to his heart. “All the power that I need or want.”
“The wrong power,” Dysio said. “You’re a necromancer. You use blood magic and fetishes and bindings. You don’t do this…this…white magic.”
“I guess I’m not a necromancer any more.” He parted open his coat. “I got rid of all the fingers I had on me.”
“You still have some over there. C’mon, Grim, you’re acting all stupid. Let’s go to bed and I’ll make you forget all about it.”
“No,” Grim said. “Do you even know my real name, Dysio? It’s Michael. Nobody’s called me that for years until today. I almost forgot it.”
Dysio glowered at Grim. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. The demons won’t let you go after you die.”
“Then they’ll choke on my soul.”
“I won’t be able to protect you any more. You’re on your own.”
“No. No, I’m not. I have friends.”
“Friends,” spat Dysio. “A mage doesn’t need friends, you told me that.”
“I was wrong,” Grim said quietly. “So very, very wrong.”
Dysio whirled from him and grabbed a pair of pants that was hanging over a chair. “You’re being all kinds of stupid!” He yanked himself into the pants and then grabbed his boots. “Friends, redemption, what a crock of shit!” He pulled on his boots, and stood, his eyes on fire. “They’ll only drag you down, Grim. You’ll see.” Dysio started to walk past him, and stopped at his shoulder. “I’ll come back tomorrow after you’ve thought about things.”
“No, Dysio,” Grim said and looked sideways at the incubus. “Don’t come back.”
Dysio’s eyes flamed, and Grim saw the darkness gather around him, and the smell of decay was ten times worse. “Fuck you, Grim,” he snarled, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Kalius was out there, he thought, watching the door. He would have seen Dysio leave. Grim could go out and get him, bring him in, and maybe he would comfort him.
Grim shook his head, and pulled off his coat slowly. He suddenly felt exhausted, drained. But he reached inside himself and touched the power still there, just behind his heart. He smiled, reassured. He took off his pants and boots, and climbed into bed.
Sleep escaped him.
He turned and faced the room. He could hear Dysio on the other side, moving around in bed. “Grim?”
“Yeah,” Grim replied, walking across the room. He casually stepped across the magic circle etched in the wood floor, and the rancid smell almost overpowered him. He stopped in the middle as his stomach rolled. He took a few deep breaths through his mouth to get rid of the smell.
“You okay?” He could see Dysio in the moonlight, sitting up in bed, the silver in his chains glistening.
“Yeah,” he said, and continued on through the circle. He stopped about five feet away from the bed, and was assaulted by another smell – a dead skunk.
“You reek,” Dysio said, getting up out of the bed. As usual, he was naked, and he moved with a gentle grace up to Grim. The smell grew stronger, and Grim couldn’t even look at him. “You can take off the glamour, it’s just us.”
“It’s not on,” Grim said, and finally looked up at him. “It’s me.”
“What happened to you?” Dysio lifted Grim’s head by the chin and looked closely at him. “Did you get laid by an angel?”
He started to smile. “Sort of.”
Dysio let him go and stepped back. “What the hell did you do?”
Grim held his arms open. “I’ve been redeemed.”
“Redeemed?” Dysio stepped back, backing up against the bed. “By who? By what?”
“A Mystic Shadow.” He gazed at Dysio. “I’ve been cleansed. I’m free, free of the demoness, free of the darkness.”
Dysio folded his arms across his chest. “Oh yeah? What about all the power you wanted?”
“I don’t need the demoness for that. It’s right here.” He pointed to his heart. “All the power that I need or want.”
“The wrong power,” Dysio said. “You’re a necromancer. You use blood magic and fetishes and bindings. You don’t do this…this…white magic.”
“I guess I’m not a necromancer any more.” He parted open his coat. “I got rid of all the fingers I had on me.”
“You still have some over there. C’mon, Grim, you’re acting all stupid. Let’s go to bed and I’ll make you forget all about it.”
“No,” Grim said. “Do you even know my real name, Dysio? It’s Michael. Nobody’s called me that for years until today. I almost forgot it.”
Dysio glowered at Grim. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. The demons won’t let you go after you die.”
“Then they’ll choke on my soul.”
“I won’t be able to protect you any more. You’re on your own.”
“No. No, I’m not. I have friends.”
“Friends,” spat Dysio. “A mage doesn’t need friends, you told me that.”
“I was wrong,” Grim said quietly. “So very, very wrong.”
Dysio whirled from him and grabbed a pair of pants that was hanging over a chair. “You’re being all kinds of stupid!” He yanked himself into the pants and then grabbed his boots. “Friends, redemption, what a crock of shit!” He pulled on his boots, and stood, his eyes on fire. “They’ll only drag you down, Grim. You’ll see.” Dysio started to walk past him, and stopped at his shoulder. “I’ll come back tomorrow after you’ve thought about things.”
“No, Dysio,” Grim said and looked sideways at the incubus. “Don’t come back.”
Dysio’s eyes flamed, and Grim saw the darkness gather around him, and the smell of decay was ten times worse. “Fuck you, Grim,” he snarled, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Kalius was out there, he thought, watching the door. He would have seen Dysio leave. Grim could go out and get him, bring him in, and maybe he would comfort him.
Grim shook his head, and pulled off his coat slowly. He suddenly felt exhausted, drained. But he reached inside himself and touched the power still there, just behind his heart. He smiled, reassured. He took off his pants and boots, and climbed into bed.
Sleep escaped him.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Dysio lounged naked on the bed, looking at his lover who sat on the side of the bed, also naked. The two men had just finished a wake-up call of passionate lovemaking, and Grim was trying to clear his mind through the after-effects.
Dysio turned lazily and curled around Grim’s back, his ever-present chains scratching Grim’s lower back. “What’s wrong?” He head snaked around to rest on Grim’s lap.
“The bottle.” Grim said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I gave him back the damn bottle.”
Dysio kissed Grim’s thigh. “You’re getting soft.”
Grim sighed. “I know. It’s this city.” He got up, padded over to the desk. “I have nothing against him, nothing.”
“Maybe you should concentrate on someone else.” Dysio lay back. “Maybe that Greek?”
“I’ll take the Greek when I’m ready. He’s a damn hero.”
“What about the telepath?”
“No. Oh, no, no, no, I don’t want to go through that again. Besides, he’ll start high and blow my brain to bits with the first shot.”
Dysio put his hands behind his head and lay down flat on the bed. “Then try a girl.”
He whirled on Dysio. “A girl?!”
“Or the robot. He’s got fingers, right?”
“Dammit, Dy, I have my scruples!”
Dysio laughed at Grim’s expression of horror. “You could just tempt him. Them. All of them.”
“I’m not bisexual or cross-species. You know those are my rules.” He turned around and faced the desk. “Besides, I don’t have your stamina to do them all.”
Dysio only chuckled. “So what are your plans?”
“Start with the new gun-slingers. Get them over to our side.”
“Harris’ side.”
“I don’t have a side, not yet. I’m too new there. Maybe later…I have to get them away from Melody.” He turned back to Dysio. “Melody brought them on and left them to fend for themselves. They’re loyal to her, supposedly. All she did was talk to them and hire them.”
“So you need to talk to them more.”
Grim nodded. “And become their friend. They’re heroes, they’re stupid like that.”
Dysio got off the bed and walked over to Grim. “You’re going to spell them?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try not to.”
“You’re a magic user,” Dysio said with almost a pout. “Use magic!”
“It bounces back sometimes, you know that! The more I use magic, the more karma gets built up.” He looked up at Dysio and gave him a crooked smile. “I’ll use my roguish charm.”
Dysio grinned. “Use your roguish charm on this,” and forced Grim to his knees.
Dysio turned lazily and curled around Grim’s back, his ever-present chains scratching Grim’s lower back. “What’s wrong?” He head snaked around to rest on Grim’s lap.
“The bottle.” Grim said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I gave him back the damn bottle.”
Dysio kissed Grim’s thigh. “You’re getting soft.”
Grim sighed. “I know. It’s this city.” He got up, padded over to the desk. “I have nothing against him, nothing.”
“Maybe you should concentrate on someone else.” Dysio lay back. “Maybe that Greek?”
“I’ll take the Greek when I’m ready. He’s a damn hero.”
“What about the telepath?”
“No. Oh, no, no, no, I don’t want to go through that again. Besides, he’ll start high and blow my brain to bits with the first shot.”
Dysio put his hands behind his head and lay down flat on the bed. “Then try a girl.”
He whirled on Dysio. “A girl?!”
“Or the robot. He’s got fingers, right?”
“Dammit, Dy, I have my scruples!”
Dysio laughed at Grim’s expression of horror. “You could just tempt him. Them. All of them.”
“I’m not bisexual or cross-species. You know those are my rules.” He turned around and faced the desk. “Besides, I don’t have your stamina to do them all.”
Dysio only chuckled. “So what are your plans?”
“Start with the new gun-slingers. Get them over to our side.”
“Harris’ side.”
“I don’t have a side, not yet. I’m too new there. Maybe later…I have to get them away from Melody.” He turned back to Dysio. “Melody brought them on and left them to fend for themselves. They’re loyal to her, supposedly. All she did was talk to them and hire them.”
“So you need to talk to them more.”
Grim nodded. “And become their friend. They’re heroes, they’re stupid like that.”
Dysio got off the bed and walked over to Grim. “You’re going to spell them?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try not to.”
“You’re a magic user,” Dysio said with almost a pout. “Use magic!”
“It bounces back sometimes, you know that! The more I use magic, the more karma gets built up.” He looked up at Dysio and gave him a crooked smile. “I’ll use my roguish charm.”
Dysio grinned. “Use your roguish charm on this,” and forced Grim to his knees.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Grimaulkin took the whiskey bottle and set it on the table in the base’s magic room. It looked like any old empty bottle, but to Grim it was special – it had an essence. Harris’ essence.
It wasn’t much, it wouldn’t be enough to bind him, but it would be enough to influence him. To bind him he needed a lot more, or blood. He didn’t want to bind him anyway, just get him to loosen up, to let down his guard.
Grim climbed the stairs and went to one of the back rooms. Whoever had used this room already cleaned out most of the really good magic books. There was one dark magic tome, and that was for novices. Luckily he had done these spells enough times that he had memorized them, every syllable, every motion.
There was no room for a real summoning circle here, so he used the bed as his altar. He drew his dagger, his personal atheme, and walked around the bed, saying, “I consecrate this circle, that none shall enter here, none shall leave here, until my ritual is completed. So mote it be.” He repeated it again, and completed the circle.
He sat on the bed, with the whiskey bottle in the middle of the circle he had drawn. Although he couldn’t see the line of it, he could sense it. He took the bottle by the bottom with both hands and closed his eyes. He opened himself up, feeling power course through him. He opened his eyes – they glowed green. He could see the small bit of saliva on the mouth of the bottle. He put his hand over the area, and he could see the smoke of darkness flow from his palm to the bottle.
He could do one of two things: He could absorb the essence and have a part of him for a temporary amount of time, predicting Harris’ moves and actions, feeling through him for a short time; or he could seal the essence on the bottle and make a fetish, something to use to influence him.
To absorb the essence wouldn’t last long, and he wouldn’t get what he really wanted. He let the smoke flow from him and touch the mouth of the bottle, wrap around it and on top of the area Harris had touched. There, it was sealed.
He took his athame and slashed the circle open. He felt the chill of the gathering of spirits outside come rushing in. He shrugged them off, grabbed the bottle by the neck, and brought it back out to the main room. He opened a drawer and found what he wanted. He stuck a red candle in the mouth of the bottle, and smiled.
“Let the spelling begin,” he whispered.
It wasn’t much, it wouldn’t be enough to bind him, but it would be enough to influence him. To bind him he needed a lot more, or blood. He didn’t want to bind him anyway, just get him to loosen up, to let down his guard.
Grim climbed the stairs and went to one of the back rooms. Whoever had used this room already cleaned out most of the really good magic books. There was one dark magic tome, and that was for novices. Luckily he had done these spells enough times that he had memorized them, every syllable, every motion.
There was no room for a real summoning circle here, so he used the bed as his altar. He drew his dagger, his personal atheme, and walked around the bed, saying, “I consecrate this circle, that none shall enter here, none shall leave here, until my ritual is completed. So mote it be.” He repeated it again, and completed the circle.
He sat on the bed, with the whiskey bottle in the middle of the circle he had drawn. Although he couldn’t see the line of it, he could sense it. He took the bottle by the bottom with both hands and closed his eyes. He opened himself up, feeling power course through him. He opened his eyes – they glowed green. He could see the small bit of saliva on the mouth of the bottle. He put his hand over the area, and he could see the smoke of darkness flow from his palm to the bottle.
He could do one of two things: He could absorb the essence and have a part of him for a temporary amount of time, predicting Harris’ moves and actions, feeling through him for a short time; or he could seal the essence on the bottle and make a fetish, something to use to influence him.
To absorb the essence wouldn’t last long, and he wouldn’t get what he really wanted. He let the smoke flow from him and touch the mouth of the bottle, wrap around it and on top of the area Harris had touched. There, it was sealed.
He took his athame and slashed the circle open. He felt the chill of the gathering of spirits outside come rushing in. He shrugged them off, grabbed the bottle by the neck, and brought it back out to the main room. He opened a drawer and found what he wanted. He stuck a red candle in the mouth of the bottle, and smiled.
“Let the spelling begin,” he whispered.