Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Masonry started to laugh, “Your name is what?”
“Nutcracker.” The small brown-haired man gazed impassively at Masonry, as if he was bored with this whole exchange.
“What the hell kind of hero name is that?”
“Not any more stupid than Bladeless,” the man commented.
“It’s an obvious statement of my talent.”
“Might as well call yourself Bare-Knuckle Brawler. Oh, sorry, that’s been taken.” He walked to the middle of the huge room. Masonry had been impressed with the murals on the walls and the markings on the floor, not knowing what they were, but assuming they were magic. This room looked like it was used for battles. “Show me what you can do.”
Masonry summoned the darkness within, and his fists smoked. He looked up at Nutcracker.
“I’m waiting.”
“Do you want me to hit you?”
“Do whatever it is you do. I’m your enemy.”
Masonry looked down, and then rushed at Nutcracker. He hauled off and hit him hard in the ribs. It felt like he had punched a pillow.
“Again,” Nutcracker said, nonplussed.
Masonry let off a few good punches, and the man didn’t move. Again, it was like punching something soft. The man nodded. “Now, my turn.”
He raised his arms, and Masonry felt a huge blast of wind come at him. He centered himself and didn’t move. Then a bolt of lightning hit his arm. He yelled, jumped back, looking up at the dark cloud that suddenly appeared in the room. The cloud advanced on him, and another bolt shot out, hitting him squarely in the chest. He fell, the wind knocked out of him.
“Your defense sucks,” Nutcracker said, as the cloud moved to float over him. “You’ve been relying on offense all this time. I’m surprised you're not dead yet.”
“Gee, thanks,” Masonry retorted, getting up and brushing off his pants.
“Doesn’t the Netherworld cloud your vision?”
“Huh?”
Nutcracker rolled his eyes. “I’m among the heathens. The power that you use – what do you call it?”
“Darkness.”
“Fine, fine, Darkness. Does the Darkness ever cloud your vision? Want to take over?”
“All the time.”
“Do you let it?”
“I try not to.” But sometimes, and he didn’t want to admit to this M.A.G.I. agent, he had mistakenly killed enemies.
Nutcracker looked at him, as if trying to read his mind. “You need to practice that, to learn to control it, not let it control you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Well, the first thing we’re going to teach you is meditation.”
“Meditation? Are you serious?”
“You’re magic. Learn to use it.”
“Does that mean I’m gonna levitate and all that?”
Nutcracker gave him a crooked smile. “One step at a time, Bladeless. Sit down.”
Masonry sat in a lotus position. Nutcracker shook his head. “No, that’s not comfortable. You have to be comfortable. Lie down if you want.”
Masonry lay on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, also covered with murals.
“Close your eyes. Listen to my voice.”
Masonry closed his eyes, and heard a voice in his head, Don’t trust him.
Masonry snapped open his eyes. “Stop.”
“What?” Nutcracker had moved to sit beside him.
“I can’t trust you.”
“That’s the Ne—the Darkness talking. The Darkness doesn’t want to be controlled. It wants to control its vessel. You’re being used, Bladeless.”
“But if I…if try and control the darkness, it won’t give me power.”
“Wrong,” said Nutcracker. “If you know anything about dark magic, you should know that it’s selfish and always likes to be set free. If that means it gets bottled up a little bit, it just means it’s stronger when it’s let out.”
Masonry said, “Kind of like sex. If you don’t do it for a while…” He blushed, realizing where he was going with the analogy.
“Exactly like that.” Nutcracker rubbed his chin. “I need to teach you some basic defensive magic.”
“Do I need to?”
“You shouldn’t be scared of magic. It’s what you have now. Use it.” Nutcracker sat back. “Now, let’s try this again. Close your eyes…”
“Nutcracker.” The small brown-haired man gazed impassively at Masonry, as if he was bored with this whole exchange.
“What the hell kind of hero name is that?”
“Not any more stupid than Bladeless,” the man commented.
“It’s an obvious statement of my talent.”
“Might as well call yourself Bare-Knuckle Brawler. Oh, sorry, that’s been taken.” He walked to the middle of the huge room. Masonry had been impressed with the murals on the walls and the markings on the floor, not knowing what they were, but assuming they were magic. This room looked like it was used for battles. “Show me what you can do.”
Masonry summoned the darkness within, and his fists smoked. He looked up at Nutcracker.
“I’m waiting.”
“Do you want me to hit you?”
“Do whatever it is you do. I’m your enemy.”
Masonry looked down, and then rushed at Nutcracker. He hauled off and hit him hard in the ribs. It felt like he had punched a pillow.
“Again,” Nutcracker said, nonplussed.
Masonry let off a few good punches, and the man didn’t move. Again, it was like punching something soft. The man nodded. “Now, my turn.”
He raised his arms, and Masonry felt a huge blast of wind come at him. He centered himself and didn’t move. Then a bolt of lightning hit his arm. He yelled, jumped back, looking up at the dark cloud that suddenly appeared in the room. The cloud advanced on him, and another bolt shot out, hitting him squarely in the chest. He fell, the wind knocked out of him.
“Your defense sucks,” Nutcracker said, as the cloud moved to float over him. “You’ve been relying on offense all this time. I’m surprised you're not dead yet.”
“Gee, thanks,” Masonry retorted, getting up and brushing off his pants.
“Doesn’t the Netherworld cloud your vision?”
“Huh?”
Nutcracker rolled his eyes. “I’m among the heathens. The power that you use – what do you call it?”
“Darkness.”
“Fine, fine, Darkness. Does the Darkness ever cloud your vision? Want to take over?”
“All the time.”
“Do you let it?”
“I try not to.” But sometimes, and he didn’t want to admit to this M.A.G.I. agent, he had mistakenly killed enemies.
Nutcracker looked at him, as if trying to read his mind. “You need to practice that, to learn to control it, not let it control you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Well, the first thing we’re going to teach you is meditation.”
“Meditation? Are you serious?”
“You’re magic. Learn to use it.”
“Does that mean I’m gonna levitate and all that?”
Nutcracker gave him a crooked smile. “One step at a time, Bladeless. Sit down.”
Masonry sat in a lotus position. Nutcracker shook his head. “No, that’s not comfortable. You have to be comfortable. Lie down if you want.”
Masonry lay on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, also covered with murals.
“Close your eyes. Listen to my voice.”
Masonry closed his eyes, and heard a voice in his head, Don’t trust him.
Masonry snapped open his eyes. “Stop.”
“What?” Nutcracker had moved to sit beside him.
“I can’t trust you.”
“That’s the Ne—the Darkness talking. The Darkness doesn’t want to be controlled. It wants to control its vessel. You’re being used, Bladeless.”
“But if I…if try and control the darkness, it won’t give me power.”
“Wrong,” said Nutcracker. “If you know anything about dark magic, you should know that it’s selfish and always likes to be set free. If that means it gets bottled up a little bit, it just means it’s stronger when it’s let out.”
Masonry said, “Kind of like sex. If you don’t do it for a while…” He blushed, realizing where he was going with the analogy.
“Exactly like that.” Nutcracker rubbed his chin. “I need to teach you some basic defensive magic.”
“Do I need to?”
“You shouldn’t be scared of magic. It’s what you have now. Use it.” Nutcracker sat back. “Now, let’s try this again. Close your eyes…”
Monday, October 5, 2009
Dysio opened the door and just missed getting brained by a flying glass flask. It flew past him to the hallway beyond and shattered on the plaster wall, oozing bright blue liquid along it.
“Fuck!”
Dysio raised an eyebrow and entered the room. The usually impeccable magic workshop looked like the Legacy Chain had gone through it. Bottles, jars, books were everywhere, scattered along the floor. Papers fell from assorted nooks, and in the center of it all was his lover, Grimaulkin, tearing things apart.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s gone, it’s fucking GONE!” He threw a book to the floor and glared at Dysio. “Grimalkin’s atheme!”
Grimalkin was Grim’s demoness, who he had tricked into binding into a crystal dagger before they moved to the Isles. Dysio grabbed a chair, tipped it over knocking off the books that had landed there, and flipped the chair around, straddling it. “When did you last see it?”
“I remember packing it, it was the first thing I packed to bring here.”
“Are you sure?”
Grim whirled on Dysio. “What do you think I am, stupid?”
“No, of course not.” Damn, he’s sexy when he’s pissed. “You haven’t touched it since?”
“I know better. I bound her to it, it doesn’t mean she can’t use me as a conduit.” Grim was very aware of touching things with others’ “essences”. He could sense an essence in an object and use it in spells to control others. Sometimes, the essence was so strong that he couldn’t control it, as in the case of Grimmy. That, he knew, to leave alone.
Grim sat hard on the floor amid the debris. “What if somebody’s got it? What if they can set her free?”
“They can’t set her free, only you can. Only you know the spell.”
He looked up at Dysio. “We both know the spell. You taught me.”
Dysio’s gaze turned into a “duh” look. “Grim, you know I love you.”
“I’m not saying that! I’m just saying, if somebody…captures you, and tortures you…”
He chuckled. “I’m too tough to torture.” He got down from the chair and joined Grim on the floor. “Besides, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”
Grim looked at the hulking Dysio. “It’s the other way around, isn’t it?”
Dysio caressed Grim’s cheek. “I’m a weak incubus. I still need protection.”
“And constant sex,” Grim said, taking Dysio’s hand. “It’s a good thing we’re going to Paragon. So much repression there.”
“Maybe your dagger’s there.”
“But I packed it. I know I did.”
“And you remember stowing it on the boat in Striga? Do you remember that particular package?”
“Well, no, not that particular one…”
“It might be still in Striga.”
“It’s gone if it is.”
“The Warriors might have found it.”
Grim brightened. “And knowing them, they fenced it.”
“Which means it could be anywhere in Talos.”
“Or Paragon.” He gazed at Dysio. “Anywhere in Paragon.”
“And you can find it. You can sense her essence.”
“I don’t know if I’m that good,” Grim said.
“I’ll make you that good,” Dysio replied, and kissed him.
“Fuck!”
Dysio raised an eyebrow and entered the room. The usually impeccable magic workshop looked like the Legacy Chain had gone through it. Bottles, jars, books were everywhere, scattered along the floor. Papers fell from assorted nooks, and in the center of it all was his lover, Grimaulkin, tearing things apart.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s gone, it’s fucking GONE!” He threw a book to the floor and glared at Dysio. “Grimalkin’s atheme!”
Grimalkin was Grim’s demoness, who he had tricked into binding into a crystal dagger before they moved to the Isles. Dysio grabbed a chair, tipped it over knocking off the books that had landed there, and flipped the chair around, straddling it. “When did you last see it?”
“I remember packing it, it was the first thing I packed to bring here.”
“Are you sure?”
Grim whirled on Dysio. “What do you think I am, stupid?”
“No, of course not.” Damn, he’s sexy when he’s pissed. “You haven’t touched it since?”
“I know better. I bound her to it, it doesn’t mean she can’t use me as a conduit.” Grim was very aware of touching things with others’ “essences”. He could sense an essence in an object and use it in spells to control others. Sometimes, the essence was so strong that he couldn’t control it, as in the case of Grimmy. That, he knew, to leave alone.
Grim sat hard on the floor amid the debris. “What if somebody’s got it? What if they can set her free?”
“They can’t set her free, only you can. Only you know the spell.”
He looked up at Dysio. “We both know the spell. You taught me.”
Dysio’s gaze turned into a “duh” look. “Grim, you know I love you.”
“I’m not saying that! I’m just saying, if somebody…captures you, and tortures you…”
He chuckled. “I’m too tough to torture.” He got down from the chair and joined Grim on the floor. “Besides, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”
Grim looked at the hulking Dysio. “It’s the other way around, isn’t it?”
Dysio caressed Grim’s cheek. “I’m a weak incubus. I still need protection.”
“And constant sex,” Grim said, taking Dysio’s hand. “It’s a good thing we’re going to Paragon. So much repression there.”
“Maybe your dagger’s there.”
“But I packed it. I know I did.”
“And you remember stowing it on the boat in Striga? Do you remember that particular package?”
“Well, no, not that particular one…”
“It might be still in Striga.”
“It’s gone if it is.”
“The Warriors might have found it.”
Grim brightened. “And knowing them, they fenced it.”
“Which means it could be anywhere in Talos.”
“Or Paragon.” He gazed at Dysio. “Anywhere in Paragon.”
“And you can find it. You can sense her essence.”
“I don’t know if I’m that good,” Grim said.
“I’ll make you that good,” Dysio replied, and kissed him.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
“Wake up sleepy head!”
Diane slowly opened her eyes. “What time is it?” she moaned, shielding her eyes from the brighter light than her closed eyes.
“Ten o’clock!” Diane’s best friend from high school, Rachel Cassidy, was smiling down at her. “We’re supposed to go to that bookstore at Faneuil Hall.”
“Uh huh.”
“What, you were up all night?” Rachel sat at the edge of the couch Diane had collapsed on last night. “What were you doing?”
“Reading the book you got me. I went to Starbucks.” She sat up. “I met somebody there.” A mutant, like me.
Rachel didn’t know Diane’s ability to play with fire. Rachel smiled. “Did you? A guy?”
“Yeah, a guy.” She felt herself blushing.
“Oh, was he cute?”
“Yeah, he was cute.” He had such nice sapphire eyes, and the beard made him look so distinguished…she tried not to think about the rest of him but couldn’t help it. She blushed even more.
“Oh, you like him, huh? What’s his name?”
“Duncan Idaho.”
She looked up, thinking. “Why does that name sound familiar…?”
Diane shrugged, got up off the couch. “I’m supposed to meet him tonight.”
“Oh really?!” Rachel grinned at her. “That’s fast for you.”
“Well, it felt right.”
“Whoa, are you actually paying attention to those feelings now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“So are you going to call Kevin to tell him you’re not going to be home?” She winked.
“I’ll go home. It’s only a two hour drive back. I won’t be that late. We’re meeting at six.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I really have no idea.” I just wanted to see him again. “Let me take a quick shower and we’ll head over to Faneuil Hall.”
Idaho turned over in bed, his arms on fire. This usually happened while he slept, whenever he was totally relaxed, the fire would come. His bed and sheets were fire proof, he had disconnected the fire alarms in his little apartment.
He lay with his arms behind his head, thinking about Diane. Another hero, just like Aestas. Controller of fire, just like Aestas. Dark hair, just like Aestas.
It had been almost a year since he left her. She had changed, become too mystical for him, and the Peacebringer she had with her disturbed him. He couldn’t take it anymore and finally had to leave. She let him go without tears; he wondered if she was encouraging him to leave. He knew he held her back from doing what her destiny dictated.
I hope she’s with Silos, he thought. He’d make her happy, teach her the Mending that she was born to do. And being the Guardian…
He sighed, got up. She was so much, and only a tiny part of her concerned herself with him. He wasn’t that important in her life, and he knew it. But, then, when they first met, she wasn’t important in his life, either. So it was only fair.
After going to the bathroom, he padded to the kitchen and opened the fridge. When he opened it, he realized that he really didn’t have much to entertain somebody with. There were two six-packs of Heineken, some lunch meat and bread, and a piece of leftover steak that was there since the last time he cooked something, which he couldn’t remember when it was.
Dinner and a movie, he thought, nodding, and closing the door. Though he really should invite her in. He needed to stop at Stanley’s and pick up some wine. And wine glasses. He shook his head. No need to go overboard. He was a single guy. He wouldn’t have wine glasses at hand.
He glanced around the apartment. First, we clean.
He picked up and straightened out, wishing he had a vacuum. He made his bed, went out to the convenience store and got some crackers and cheese. He walked the four blocks to the liquor store and picked up the wine, though he had no idea what he was getting.
Idaho sat down and watched TV and the clock. At 5:00, he took a shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He had a place in mind for dinner, and it wasn’t fancy. He didn’t think she’d like anything fancy. At 5:30, he started to pace. At 5:50, the doorbell rang.
He took a deep breath, went downstairs, locking the door behind him. As he came down the stairs, he saw her through the glass door. In the twilight, she was pretty, with her shoulder length black hair but her severe face, as if she was holding something in. He opened the door and smiled at her. She smiled back, looking a lot prettier.
“Hi,” he said. Should I kiss her?
“Hi,” she replied. Should I kiss him?
They stood there awkwardly for a minute.
“At least I have all my clothes on,” he said.
“Uh huh,” she said, and blushed.
He put a hand through his hair. “Well, right. Okay. I know this nice little Thai restaurant a couple of doors down. Do you like Thai food?”
“I haven’t tried it.”
“It’s like Chinese.” He offered his arm. She slipped her arm in his, and they started walking. They were in silence for a little while.
“You don’t have a car?” she asked.
“I live in the city. I use a bus. Or I get rides from the guys at work.”
“And you do construction?”
“I’m a welder.” He smiled. “I have my own torch.”
“Ah,” she said. “How come you’re in Boston and not in Paragon City?”
“Long story.”
“Tell me over dinner.”
“Deal.”
They arrived at the restaurant. After they settled in, and Idaho ordered appetizers, she gazed at him for a minute. “I’m not going to let it go,” she said. “How come you’re not a hero?”
“I was a hero,” he said quietly. “Then I fell in love with a hero who was more…heroic than me.”
“Oh,” she looked at her plate.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. And then she got a Kheldian in her, and she went to Grandville to take on Lord Recluse, and everything changed.” He fiddled with his fork. “I tried to keep up with her, but I couldn’t. She let it take over her life. I was just added baggage.” He made an encompassing move with his arm. “So it was easier for me to just come up here and be a regular person.”
“Do you miss it?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Do you miss her?”
He looked at the plate. “Sometimes. But she’s happier doing what she’s doing, and she really doesn’t need me.”
“Did you really love her?” She blushed. What kind of question is that, Diane?
“She was my first love. Well, my second, if you want to count Pill.”
“Pill?”
“Pilanequay. She found me when I was first in Paragon. She sort of raised me.”
“You said you were a clone, though. Were you…born?”
“I was made,” he said. “In an Arachnos tank that was used for creating Fire Tarantulas.”
“That explains the fire.”
“Yes. My original doesn’t have fire.”
“What does he have? Is he a hero, too?”
“He was. He could encase himself in stone and take a few good hits. I don’t know what he’s doing now.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Masonry.”
“Never heard of him.”
“That’s okay, he…sort of died.”
“Sort of died?”
“And was brought back to life. I told you it’s a long story.”
She looked confused. Well, she thought, this is Paragon City, after all. Stranger things have happened.
He sat back. “Okay, enough about that. Now you.”
“Me?”
“Uh huh. I don’t know much about you. I know you’re a hero in Paragon, and that you manipulate fire, and that you’re a mutant. What else is there about you? Do you have a job? Do you have a family?”
“I don’t really work, I mostly study. For the hero exams, and magic stuff.”
“Why magic?”
“It’s something I don’t understand.”
“You probably never will. I don’t understand a lot of it myself.”
“But you have it all over you.” She motioned to his arms.
“It’s protection. And help. And strength. And power. And other things.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So what about your family?”
“I have a mom and dad, and a brother. We do heroing together.”
He smiled. “That’s nice. And you live in Paragon?”
“In Steel Canyon.”
“Nice area. Not so rough.”
“Why don’t you come back?”
Their food arrived, and Idaho let out a breath. Perfect timing. They started eating, and he hoped she would have forgotten about the question. But she didn’t. She asked him again.
He sighed. “Too many bad memories there. My original is still there. My enemies are still there. I don’t know where my ex-girlfriend is, but she might still be there. I really don’t want to go back and be a hero.”
“You could help. They’re always looking for help.”
“You be the hero,” he snapped.
She looked down, chastened. He softened his gaze, reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she said. “I probably sound like your ex.”
“Hm, maybe a little.” He let go of her hand, and she watched him pull back. He smiled at her. “So I was thinking maybe a movie?”
“I didn’t see a movie theater around here.”
“That’s the thing, you’re going to have to drive.”
“Oh, is that it.” She smiled at him. “I can do that.”
Idaho paid, even after she protested, and they walked out of the restaurant arm in arm again. “Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Two streets over. Finding parking here is a bitch.”
“Welcome to Boston,” he replied, as they started walking. They ended up walking along the Charles River. It was dark, and the street lights were relatively dim. He stopped, pulled her to him.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he said, and kissed her.
They broke from the kiss, and she put her head against his chest. “Me too.”
“The hell with the movie,” he said. “Want to come back to my place?”
She looked up at him. “Sure.”
This time, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. They walked back to his apartment. She entered the kitchen/entrance/foyer and turned around. “Kind of small.”
“It’s only me,” he said, taking her coat. “I don’t even have a kitchen table.”
“I can see that.”
“I don’t do much cooking, anyway.” He had to get next to her to get by her to go into the living room/bedroom area. He looked at her, then started to scoot by her. She put her hands out automatically and touched his hips. He stopped in the doorway, and she put her arms around him. He bent and kissed her again, long, deep. He backed her up against the door frame, pressing his body against hers. She pulled her arms up and embraced his back, pulling him closer to her.
They broke the kiss, and he bent to kiss her neck. He licked around her earlobe, and she gasped. He lifted his head, and looked into her eyes. Both of them were breathing heavily.
“I…I can’t.” He stepped back. “I’ll hurt you.”
“Huh?” she blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“If ….when…I get excited, I…go up.”
“Most men do,” she said with a smile.
“No, I mean, up…in flames. I burn.”
Diane moved closer to him. “I’m a mutant and I use fire. Do you think fire hurts me?”
“Huh, um, well…”
She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Let’s try it.”
He indeed went up in flames. So did she, enjoying every minute.
They lay in bed, entwined in each other’s arms. “Fireproof sheets?” she asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Where did you get those?”
“Paragon. Only place they had them.” He traced the outline of her breasts.
“Hey, that tickles.”
“Sorry.” He nuzzled closer against her. “Will you be going back to your friend’s?”
“I have to go home.”
“Why don’t you stay the night? Say you were with your friend for another night.”
“I don’t like to lie.”
“Okay, tell the truth, then.”
She turned to him. “Was I okay?”
He blinked. “Of course you were!”
“It was…my first time…”
He raised himself on his elbow and gazed into her eyes. “It was?”
She nodded, blushing. He scooped her up in his arms. “I hope I was good enough for you.”
“Oh, you were. You really were.” They kissed again, and hands roamed.
Diane slowly opened her eyes. “What time is it?” she moaned, shielding her eyes from the brighter light than her closed eyes.
“Ten o’clock!” Diane’s best friend from high school, Rachel Cassidy, was smiling down at her. “We’re supposed to go to that bookstore at Faneuil Hall.”
“Uh huh.”
“What, you were up all night?” Rachel sat at the edge of the couch Diane had collapsed on last night. “What were you doing?”
“Reading the book you got me. I went to Starbucks.” She sat up. “I met somebody there.” A mutant, like me.
Rachel didn’t know Diane’s ability to play with fire. Rachel smiled. “Did you? A guy?”
“Yeah, a guy.” She felt herself blushing.
“Oh, was he cute?”
“Yeah, he was cute.” He had such nice sapphire eyes, and the beard made him look so distinguished…she tried not to think about the rest of him but couldn’t help it. She blushed even more.
“Oh, you like him, huh? What’s his name?”
“Duncan Idaho.”
She looked up, thinking. “Why does that name sound familiar…?”
Diane shrugged, got up off the couch. “I’m supposed to meet him tonight.”
“Oh really?!” Rachel grinned at her. “That’s fast for you.”
“Well, it felt right.”
“Whoa, are you actually paying attention to those feelings now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“So are you going to call Kevin to tell him you’re not going to be home?” She winked.
“I’ll go home. It’s only a two hour drive back. I won’t be that late. We’re meeting at six.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I really have no idea.” I just wanted to see him again. “Let me take a quick shower and we’ll head over to Faneuil Hall.”
Idaho turned over in bed, his arms on fire. This usually happened while he slept, whenever he was totally relaxed, the fire would come. His bed and sheets were fire proof, he had disconnected the fire alarms in his little apartment.
He lay with his arms behind his head, thinking about Diane. Another hero, just like Aestas. Controller of fire, just like Aestas. Dark hair, just like Aestas.
It had been almost a year since he left her. She had changed, become too mystical for him, and the Peacebringer she had with her disturbed him. He couldn’t take it anymore and finally had to leave. She let him go without tears; he wondered if she was encouraging him to leave. He knew he held her back from doing what her destiny dictated.
I hope she’s with Silos, he thought. He’d make her happy, teach her the Mending that she was born to do. And being the Guardian…
He sighed, got up. She was so much, and only a tiny part of her concerned herself with him. He wasn’t that important in her life, and he knew it. But, then, when they first met, she wasn’t important in his life, either. So it was only fair.
After going to the bathroom, he padded to the kitchen and opened the fridge. When he opened it, he realized that he really didn’t have much to entertain somebody with. There were two six-packs of Heineken, some lunch meat and bread, and a piece of leftover steak that was there since the last time he cooked something, which he couldn’t remember when it was.
Dinner and a movie, he thought, nodding, and closing the door. Though he really should invite her in. He needed to stop at Stanley’s and pick up some wine. And wine glasses. He shook his head. No need to go overboard. He was a single guy. He wouldn’t have wine glasses at hand.
He glanced around the apartment. First, we clean.
He picked up and straightened out, wishing he had a vacuum. He made his bed, went out to the convenience store and got some crackers and cheese. He walked the four blocks to the liquor store and picked up the wine, though he had no idea what he was getting.
Idaho sat down and watched TV and the clock. At 5:00, he took a shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He had a place in mind for dinner, and it wasn’t fancy. He didn’t think she’d like anything fancy. At 5:30, he started to pace. At 5:50, the doorbell rang.
He took a deep breath, went downstairs, locking the door behind him. As he came down the stairs, he saw her through the glass door. In the twilight, she was pretty, with her shoulder length black hair but her severe face, as if she was holding something in. He opened the door and smiled at her. She smiled back, looking a lot prettier.
“Hi,” he said. Should I kiss her?
“Hi,” she replied. Should I kiss him?
They stood there awkwardly for a minute.
“At least I have all my clothes on,” he said.
“Uh huh,” she said, and blushed.
He put a hand through his hair. “Well, right. Okay. I know this nice little Thai restaurant a couple of doors down. Do you like Thai food?”
“I haven’t tried it.”
“It’s like Chinese.” He offered his arm. She slipped her arm in his, and they started walking. They were in silence for a little while.
“You don’t have a car?” she asked.
“I live in the city. I use a bus. Or I get rides from the guys at work.”
“And you do construction?”
“I’m a welder.” He smiled. “I have my own torch.”
“Ah,” she said. “How come you’re in Boston and not in Paragon City?”
“Long story.”
“Tell me over dinner.”
“Deal.”
They arrived at the restaurant. After they settled in, and Idaho ordered appetizers, she gazed at him for a minute. “I’m not going to let it go,” she said. “How come you’re not a hero?”
“I was a hero,” he said quietly. “Then I fell in love with a hero who was more…heroic than me.”
“Oh,” she looked at her plate.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. And then she got a Kheldian in her, and she went to Grandville to take on Lord Recluse, and everything changed.” He fiddled with his fork. “I tried to keep up with her, but I couldn’t. She let it take over her life. I was just added baggage.” He made an encompassing move with his arm. “So it was easier for me to just come up here and be a regular person.”
“Do you miss it?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Do you miss her?”
He looked at the plate. “Sometimes. But she’s happier doing what she’s doing, and she really doesn’t need me.”
“Did you really love her?” She blushed. What kind of question is that, Diane?
“She was my first love. Well, my second, if you want to count Pill.”
“Pill?”
“Pilanequay. She found me when I was first in Paragon. She sort of raised me.”
“You said you were a clone, though. Were you…born?”
“I was made,” he said. “In an Arachnos tank that was used for creating Fire Tarantulas.”
“That explains the fire.”
“Yes. My original doesn’t have fire.”
“What does he have? Is he a hero, too?”
“He was. He could encase himself in stone and take a few good hits. I don’t know what he’s doing now.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Masonry.”
“Never heard of him.”
“That’s okay, he…sort of died.”
“Sort of died?”
“And was brought back to life. I told you it’s a long story.”
She looked confused. Well, she thought, this is Paragon City, after all. Stranger things have happened.
He sat back. “Okay, enough about that. Now you.”
“Me?”
“Uh huh. I don’t know much about you. I know you’re a hero in Paragon, and that you manipulate fire, and that you’re a mutant. What else is there about you? Do you have a job? Do you have a family?”
“I don’t really work, I mostly study. For the hero exams, and magic stuff.”
“Why magic?”
“It’s something I don’t understand.”
“You probably never will. I don’t understand a lot of it myself.”
“But you have it all over you.” She motioned to his arms.
“It’s protection. And help. And strength. And power. And other things.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So what about your family?”
“I have a mom and dad, and a brother. We do heroing together.”
He smiled. “That’s nice. And you live in Paragon?”
“In Steel Canyon.”
“Nice area. Not so rough.”
“Why don’t you come back?”
Their food arrived, and Idaho let out a breath. Perfect timing. They started eating, and he hoped she would have forgotten about the question. But she didn’t. She asked him again.
He sighed. “Too many bad memories there. My original is still there. My enemies are still there. I don’t know where my ex-girlfriend is, but she might still be there. I really don’t want to go back and be a hero.”
“You could help. They’re always looking for help.”
“You be the hero,” he snapped.
She looked down, chastened. He softened his gaze, reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she said. “I probably sound like your ex.”
“Hm, maybe a little.” He let go of her hand, and she watched him pull back. He smiled at her. “So I was thinking maybe a movie?”
“I didn’t see a movie theater around here.”
“That’s the thing, you’re going to have to drive.”
“Oh, is that it.” She smiled at him. “I can do that.”
Idaho paid, even after she protested, and they walked out of the restaurant arm in arm again. “Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Two streets over. Finding parking here is a bitch.”
“Welcome to Boston,” he replied, as they started walking. They ended up walking along the Charles River. It was dark, and the street lights were relatively dim. He stopped, pulled her to him.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he said, and kissed her.
They broke from the kiss, and she put her head against his chest. “Me too.”
“The hell with the movie,” he said. “Want to come back to my place?”
She looked up at him. “Sure.”
This time, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. They walked back to his apartment. She entered the kitchen/entrance/foyer and turned around. “Kind of small.”
“It’s only me,” he said, taking her coat. “I don’t even have a kitchen table.”
“I can see that.”
“I don’t do much cooking, anyway.” He had to get next to her to get by her to go into the living room/bedroom area. He looked at her, then started to scoot by her. She put her hands out automatically and touched his hips. He stopped in the doorway, and she put her arms around him. He bent and kissed her again, long, deep. He backed her up against the door frame, pressing his body against hers. She pulled her arms up and embraced his back, pulling him closer to her.
They broke the kiss, and he bent to kiss her neck. He licked around her earlobe, and she gasped. He lifted his head, and looked into her eyes. Both of them were breathing heavily.
“I…I can’t.” He stepped back. “I’ll hurt you.”
“Huh?” she blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“If ….when…I get excited, I…go up.”
“Most men do,” she said with a smile.
“No, I mean, up…in flames. I burn.”
Diane moved closer to him. “I’m a mutant and I use fire. Do you think fire hurts me?”
“Huh, um, well…”
She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Let’s try it.”
He indeed went up in flames. So did she, enjoying every minute.
They lay in bed, entwined in each other’s arms. “Fireproof sheets?” she asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Where did you get those?”
“Paragon. Only place they had them.” He traced the outline of her breasts.
“Hey, that tickles.”
“Sorry.” He nuzzled closer against her. “Will you be going back to your friend’s?”
“I have to go home.”
“Why don’t you stay the night? Say you were with your friend for another night.”
“I don’t like to lie.”
“Okay, tell the truth, then.”
She turned to him. “Was I okay?”
He blinked. “Of course you were!”
“It was…my first time…”
He raised himself on his elbow and gazed into her eyes. “It was?”
She nodded, blushing. He scooped her up in his arms. “I hope I was good enough for you.”
“Oh, you were. You really were.” They kissed again, and hands roamed.
He stumbled down the street. Okay, it was another Friday night, and like all the other Friday nights, he went to the bar with the guys he did construction with. And like all the other Friday nights, he got so drunk he could barely stand.
Luckily, he didn’t have to drive home. Someone would point him in the general direction of his home and he would find his way, most of the time. Once or twice he found himself in the park down the street, and once in an alley way with his wallet missing. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he did.
He looked up at some bright lights and saw a Starbucks was still open at 1 am. Maybe if I get some coffee I’ll sober up, that’s what I’ve heard. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near his house because he didn’t remember a Starbucks…
He went inside. There were college students in all the comfy chairs. College, where is there a college…?
Cambridge? How did he get so far away from home? Think, think. Frankie had a car. They went across the Charles River Bridge. They were supposed to pub crawl in Somerville. Where the hell was Frankie?
He patted himself down – he had lost his cell phone again. He felt his wallet in his back pocket. He pulled it out and counted the money – not enough for a cab. When he saw Frankie Monday, he was going to put a two-by-four up his nose.
The barista was staring at him while he thought all this through. He focused on her and said, “Coffee. I don’t care what. Black.”
“Right away, sir,” she said, and poured some dark liquid from the spigot. He paid her, tasted it and immediately grimaced. Strong shit.
He turned from the counter and surveyed the area. There was a large chair right next to a dark haired woman reading a huge book. He made a beeline for it. As he did, he happened to look over the shoulder of the woman and saw the illustration in the book.
“That symbol means strength with mercy,” he said.
The woman looked up, her blue eyes boring into him. “How do you know?”
He lifted his arm and showed her a tattoo. Entwined within a bunch of tattoos on his arm, he traced the symbol out for her.
She peered at his arm, at the intricacies of the tattoos. “This…this is all magic.”
“Shh,” he said. “Not here.” He sat down next to her. “There’s a lot of…weird people here.”
She looked down, and he pushed down his long sleeve to cover the arm again. “Do you have a lot of tattoos?”
He nodded. “All over.”
“How come?”
He sipped the coffee again, and closed his eyes in disgust. “At first it was defiance. Then I found a purpose.”
“What?”
He looked sideways at her. “It’s a long story.”
She closed the book. “I have all night.”
“Unfortunately, this place closes at 3. And I have to find my way home.” He sipped again.
“You’re lost?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I remember crossing the Charles, but after that…”
“Where do you live?”
“Brookline.”
“In the city?”
“Yeah. It’s not pleasant, but nobody bothers me. Much. What about you?”
“I don’t live around here.”
“Where are you from?”
“Paragon City.”
He stared at her, stunned, for a minute. “You’re a long way from home this late at night.”
“I’m staying with a friend. I wasn’t tired.”
“Oh.” She was actually kind of pretty, if severe looking. She looked like someone you wouldn’t want to tangle with or cross. But underneath, he could sense something warm about her, but it was under so many layers of protection that she wouldn’t let it out. He held out his hand. “I’m Duncan Idaho.”
“Diane Cook.”
They shook. She had a very firm handshake. She was strong, he liked that.
“So what other tattoos do you have?”
“Maybe they’re in this book. Is it a grimoire?”
This time it was her turn to look stunned. “Yes…”
He reached for it, and pulled it toward him. She sat closer to him, and they paged through the book together. He pointed out some symbols that he knew he had, and they discussed symbols that maybe he should have gotten. Idaho could tell she was burning to know why he was covered in all this magic, but he wasn’t going to tell her.
Then they started talking. He didn’t want to ask about Paragon City, but she talked about it anyway. I don’t want to go back there, he thought. The more they talked, the more he realized he liked her. And the more he realized he liked her, the more he forgot his first love, Aestas, the reason he left Paragon City.
“Last call!” yelled the barista.
The two of them looked at each other. “Almost three already?” She got up and stretched, smiling at him. He got up as well.
“I guess I’d better get across that bridge somehow.”
“I have a car, I can take you home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. I don’t know if I’ll still have a parking spot when I get back…”
He helped her into her coat, and they walked out of the Starbuck’s together. He walked with her down the street a little. He stopped suddenly, and she took two steps and stopped. “What’s wrong?”
He tilted his head. Something felt wrong. His back prickled, which was a harbinger of the direction of the attack, part of the magic. He heard footsteps. He whirled around and burst into flame. His clothes turned to dust.
Behind him a gang of about six kids with assorted weapons stood at the ready. He crouched, and then saw fire out of the corner of his eye.
Diane stood next to him, a flaming shield on one arm, and a flaming sword in the other hand.
“Shit!” the gang yelled almost in unison, and ran.
Diane and Idaho looked at each other, one encased in flame, one brandishing fire.
They both said together, “You’re a hero?” Diane laughed first, and then Idaho joined her. As he laughed, his fire died out, and he stood before her, naked. He looked down and covered himself. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said with a smile, and took off her coat. He used it to cover his front, but nothing could cover his back. “I’d better take you home.”
“Hopefully nobody sees me…”
They made a mad dash to the car, and she unlocked the door, letting him in. He gasped at the coldness of the leather seats. She climbed in next to him. “You should wear a fireproof costume under your clothes.”
“I usually don’t do that,” he said as she started the car. “I mean, fire up. I only do it if I’m threatened, I’m usually very controlled.”
“Are you a mutant?” She eased out of the parking spot.
“No, I’m a clone.”
“There’s another one of you running around?”
“He doesn’t burst into flame. It’s a long story.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight. I hope I get to hear these long stories.”
He smiled, looked out the window. “I could see you tomorrow, maybe.”
“Duncan Idaho, are you asking me out on a date?”
“I think I am.”
“Well, considering you’re a naked man in my car, we're intimate enough that you don't need to ask me.” She grinned at him but was blushing.
He grinned as well, “Good, tomorrow at…six?”
“Six is good.”
“And you’ll know where I live…” and he started giving her directions.
They parked outside of what looked like a simple brownstone house, but on the first floor was a boutique. “Shit, my keys, my wallet, everything went up.”
“Can you get in?”
He opened the door to the car. “I leave a key to the house in a hiding place. I’ve come home without my keys before.”
“Hey, wait, Duncan?”
“Hm?”
She leaned over the seat and kissed him. He opened his mouth to the kiss, and she kissed him deeper. He pulled away, blushing furiously.
She glanced down at his groin, but the coat was covering it. “Uh, I’m sorry, you, can, uh, keep that.”
“Good. Thank you. I’ll clean it for you tomorrow.”
“Uh huh.”
“Right.” They stared at each other for a minute, and then he turned away. He glanced both ways down the sidewalk and sprinted to a glass door beside the boutique. He opened it, and flicked on the light in the hallway. She couldn’t see where he bent to get the key, but he flicked off the light quickly and ran up the stairs.
Diane Cook, Pyrablade, smiled and shook her head. “Only in Paragon,” she muttered, pulling back out into the street.
Luckily, he didn’t have to drive home. Someone would point him in the general direction of his home and he would find his way, most of the time. Once or twice he found himself in the park down the street, and once in an alley way with his wallet missing. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he did.
He looked up at some bright lights and saw a Starbucks was still open at 1 am. Maybe if I get some coffee I’ll sober up, that’s what I’ve heard. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near his house because he didn’t remember a Starbucks…
He went inside. There were college students in all the comfy chairs. College, where is there a college…?
Cambridge? How did he get so far away from home? Think, think. Frankie had a car. They went across the Charles River Bridge. They were supposed to pub crawl in Somerville. Where the hell was Frankie?
He patted himself down – he had lost his cell phone again. He felt his wallet in his back pocket. He pulled it out and counted the money – not enough for a cab. When he saw Frankie Monday, he was going to put a two-by-four up his nose.
The barista was staring at him while he thought all this through. He focused on her and said, “Coffee. I don’t care what. Black.”
“Right away, sir,” she said, and poured some dark liquid from the spigot. He paid her, tasted it and immediately grimaced. Strong shit.
He turned from the counter and surveyed the area. There was a large chair right next to a dark haired woman reading a huge book. He made a beeline for it. As he did, he happened to look over the shoulder of the woman and saw the illustration in the book.
“That symbol means strength with mercy,” he said.
The woman looked up, her blue eyes boring into him. “How do you know?”
He lifted his arm and showed her a tattoo. Entwined within a bunch of tattoos on his arm, he traced the symbol out for her.
She peered at his arm, at the intricacies of the tattoos. “This…this is all magic.”
“Shh,” he said. “Not here.” He sat down next to her. “There’s a lot of…weird people here.”
She looked down, and he pushed down his long sleeve to cover the arm again. “Do you have a lot of tattoos?”
He nodded. “All over.”
“How come?”
He sipped the coffee again, and closed his eyes in disgust. “At first it was defiance. Then I found a purpose.”
“What?”
He looked sideways at her. “It’s a long story.”
She closed the book. “I have all night.”
“Unfortunately, this place closes at 3. And I have to find my way home.” He sipped again.
“You’re lost?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I remember crossing the Charles, but after that…”
“Where do you live?”
“Brookline.”
“In the city?”
“Yeah. It’s not pleasant, but nobody bothers me. Much. What about you?”
“I don’t live around here.”
“Where are you from?”
“Paragon City.”
He stared at her, stunned, for a minute. “You’re a long way from home this late at night.”
“I’m staying with a friend. I wasn’t tired.”
“Oh.” She was actually kind of pretty, if severe looking. She looked like someone you wouldn’t want to tangle with or cross. But underneath, he could sense something warm about her, but it was under so many layers of protection that she wouldn’t let it out. He held out his hand. “I’m Duncan Idaho.”
“Diane Cook.”
They shook. She had a very firm handshake. She was strong, he liked that.
“So what other tattoos do you have?”
“Maybe they’re in this book. Is it a grimoire?”
This time it was her turn to look stunned. “Yes…”
He reached for it, and pulled it toward him. She sat closer to him, and they paged through the book together. He pointed out some symbols that he knew he had, and they discussed symbols that maybe he should have gotten. Idaho could tell she was burning to know why he was covered in all this magic, but he wasn’t going to tell her.
Then they started talking. He didn’t want to ask about Paragon City, but she talked about it anyway. I don’t want to go back there, he thought. The more they talked, the more he realized he liked her. And the more he realized he liked her, the more he forgot his first love, Aestas, the reason he left Paragon City.
“Last call!” yelled the barista.
The two of them looked at each other. “Almost three already?” She got up and stretched, smiling at him. He got up as well.
“I guess I’d better get across that bridge somehow.”
“I have a car, I can take you home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. I don’t know if I’ll still have a parking spot when I get back…”
He helped her into her coat, and they walked out of the Starbuck’s together. He walked with her down the street a little. He stopped suddenly, and she took two steps and stopped. “What’s wrong?”
He tilted his head. Something felt wrong. His back prickled, which was a harbinger of the direction of the attack, part of the magic. He heard footsteps. He whirled around and burst into flame. His clothes turned to dust.
Behind him a gang of about six kids with assorted weapons stood at the ready. He crouched, and then saw fire out of the corner of his eye.
Diane stood next to him, a flaming shield on one arm, and a flaming sword in the other hand.
“Shit!” the gang yelled almost in unison, and ran.
Diane and Idaho looked at each other, one encased in flame, one brandishing fire.
They both said together, “You’re a hero?” Diane laughed first, and then Idaho joined her. As he laughed, his fire died out, and he stood before her, naked. He looked down and covered himself. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said with a smile, and took off her coat. He used it to cover his front, but nothing could cover his back. “I’d better take you home.”
“Hopefully nobody sees me…”
They made a mad dash to the car, and she unlocked the door, letting him in. He gasped at the coldness of the leather seats. She climbed in next to him. “You should wear a fireproof costume under your clothes.”
“I usually don’t do that,” he said as she started the car. “I mean, fire up. I only do it if I’m threatened, I’m usually very controlled.”
“Are you a mutant?” She eased out of the parking spot.
“No, I’m a clone.”
“There’s another one of you running around?”
“He doesn’t burst into flame. It’s a long story.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight. I hope I get to hear these long stories.”
He smiled, looked out the window. “I could see you tomorrow, maybe.”
“Duncan Idaho, are you asking me out on a date?”
“I think I am.”
“Well, considering you’re a naked man in my car, we're intimate enough that you don't need to ask me.” She grinned at him but was blushing.
He grinned as well, “Good, tomorrow at…six?”
“Six is good.”
“And you’ll know where I live…” and he started giving her directions.
They parked outside of what looked like a simple brownstone house, but on the first floor was a boutique. “Shit, my keys, my wallet, everything went up.”
“Can you get in?”
He opened the door to the car. “I leave a key to the house in a hiding place. I’ve come home without my keys before.”
“Hey, wait, Duncan?”
“Hm?”
She leaned over the seat and kissed him. He opened his mouth to the kiss, and she kissed him deeper. He pulled away, blushing furiously.
She glanced down at his groin, but the coat was covering it. “Uh, I’m sorry, you, can, uh, keep that.”
“Good. Thank you. I’ll clean it for you tomorrow.”
“Uh huh.”
“Right.” They stared at each other for a minute, and then he turned away. He glanced both ways down the sidewalk and sprinted to a glass door beside the boutique. He opened it, and flicked on the light in the hallway. She couldn’t see where he bent to get the key, but he flicked off the light quickly and ran up the stairs.
Diane Cook, Pyrablade, smiled and shook her head. “Only in Paragon,” she muttered, pulling back out into the street.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Grimaulkin raised his hands over his head, ignoring the dark sparks that erupted from his fingertips. He closed his grey eyes, focusing on keeping a woman’s image in his mind. The same woman was on a photograph at his feet. A black candle dripped methodically onto the picture. In his mind’s eye, he deconstructed the woman, making her lose her hair, then her eyesight, stooping her over, advancing her age.
He opened his eyes and looked down at the picture. The woman in the picture was now yellow, old, bent over with a look of pain. Grim took the picture from under the candle and held it over the flame. It went up in an instant.
Grim smiled, satisfied. He took the ancient dagger from the floor, and slashed over the circle drawn into the wood. Immediately he was assaulted by the heat of the summer, waiting for a cooling breeze from the sea at Nerva. He crossed the large studio and picked up a cell phone.
He dialed, glancing around the room. He focused on the door as it opened.
“Hello,” Grim said into the phone, and smiled and nodded at the person entering, “Mr. Caplin. Yes. Your ex-wife should be dead within two weeks. Yes, sir, very painful. No, sir, she won’t look like she did. Um hm. Yes. My methods are my own.”
The person who entered waited patiently, going over to Grim’s desk and looking at some of the flasks.
“I don’t think you need to know that. Just make sure that the money is in hand in two weeks. Of course. Pleasure. Good bye.” He flipped the phone closed and looked up at the red-haired man. “Of course, if he fails, he faces a worse fate than the one he paid me for.”
The man turned beautiful green eyes to Grim and grinned at him. “I was here earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I can multi task.”
The man chuckled, kissed Grim’s forehead. “Not with magic.”
“Or other things,” Grim commented, patting the man’s rear.
“Hm. Don’t get me started. What were you planning on doing today?”
Grim sighed. “I’m still practicing on my offensive magic. But something’s blocking me here.”
“In the house? I felt no spirits.”
“No, in Nerva.” He walked over to the desk. “It’s like there’s not enough power here.”
“There are a lot of magic users here. There’s Thorns just to the north. They steal magic where ever they can get it.”
“That’s what it feels like. Like there’s a river and too many people are siphoning from it. It feels dry, weak.” Grim held open his hand, and a small awkward-looking sphere appeared in it. “I can’t even hold a form.”
The man leaned back against the desk. “Then maybe we need to go somewhere else.”
“I’m not going to Cap au Diable, too crowded. And Port Oakes is full of untrained wanna-be’s running around.” Grim started ticking off on his fingers. “Sharkhead is sterile, Grandville is possessed by Recluse and his cronies, and St. Martial is full of too much emotion to wade through. Where else can we go?”
The man smiled. “Paragon City.”
“Paragon?”
“How many powerful dark mages are there? They don’t touch dark magic because it’s not” He made air quotes, “’pretty’.”
“Hmph, but using magic to save people. Been there, did that, got the lectures.”
“You also got me.”
“Well, yeah, that was a bonus.”
The man moved away from the desk and went over to a book case. “You know, Paragon isn’t all that beautiful on the inside. Underneath all the pretty parks and heroes in spandex…” He gave Grim a suggestive wink, “is a lot of corruption and decay. Not all heroes are perfect. They all need someone to knock them down a few pegs, and what better way to do it than from the inside?”
Grim stroked his goatee, as he did when he was thinking. “You might be right, Dysio. Paragon needs to know how imperfect it really is.”
“Mmhm. And besides, they have bigger buildings.”
“True.”
“I kinda miss Steel Canyon. And the university. And all those football players.”
“Did you do them all?” Grim asked slyly.
“Even the coaches.”
“Nice…” Grim came up behind him. “Were they tasty?”
“Not as good as you,” Dysio replied, and embraced him. “So what do you think? Go back to Paragon?”
“I think I might. I’ve made a name for myself here, but I think they’re catching on to me.”
“That’s the problem with dark magic, it leaves residue no matter what you do.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help with that.”
“But you’ve given me spells and abilities that these stupid Thorns can’t even fathom. They can’t trace some of the work I’ve done. They know it’s dark magic, but they don’t know it’s me, and that’s a plus.”
“But they know you’re a dark mage. You’ve made no secret about that.”
Grim glared. “I won’t make a secret about that, nor will I make a secret about my choice in sex partners.”
Dysio knew he pressed a soft spot with Grim’s pride. He liked to see Grim mad sometimes. It brought a new dimension to their coupling. Dysio bent down and kissed Grim gently on the lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” Grim couldn’t stay mad for long, especially in the arms of his lover. He rested against Dysio’s broad chest, silver chains scratching his cheek. “Maybe I will go back.”
“Good,” Dysio said with a wicked smile. “Very, very good.”
He opened his eyes and looked down at the picture. The woman in the picture was now yellow, old, bent over with a look of pain. Grim took the picture from under the candle and held it over the flame. It went up in an instant.
Grim smiled, satisfied. He took the ancient dagger from the floor, and slashed over the circle drawn into the wood. Immediately he was assaulted by the heat of the summer, waiting for a cooling breeze from the sea at Nerva. He crossed the large studio and picked up a cell phone.
He dialed, glancing around the room. He focused on the door as it opened.
“Hello,” Grim said into the phone, and smiled and nodded at the person entering, “Mr. Caplin. Yes. Your ex-wife should be dead within two weeks. Yes, sir, very painful. No, sir, she won’t look like she did. Um hm. Yes. My methods are my own.”
The person who entered waited patiently, going over to Grim’s desk and looking at some of the flasks.
“I don’t think you need to know that. Just make sure that the money is in hand in two weeks. Of course. Pleasure. Good bye.” He flipped the phone closed and looked up at the red-haired man. “Of course, if he fails, he faces a worse fate than the one he paid me for.”
The man turned beautiful green eyes to Grim and grinned at him. “I was here earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I can multi task.”
The man chuckled, kissed Grim’s forehead. “Not with magic.”
“Or other things,” Grim commented, patting the man’s rear.
“Hm. Don’t get me started. What were you planning on doing today?”
Grim sighed. “I’m still practicing on my offensive magic. But something’s blocking me here.”
“In the house? I felt no spirits.”
“No, in Nerva.” He walked over to the desk. “It’s like there’s not enough power here.”
“There are a lot of magic users here. There’s Thorns just to the north. They steal magic where ever they can get it.”
“That’s what it feels like. Like there’s a river and too many people are siphoning from it. It feels dry, weak.” Grim held open his hand, and a small awkward-looking sphere appeared in it. “I can’t even hold a form.”
The man leaned back against the desk. “Then maybe we need to go somewhere else.”
“I’m not going to Cap au Diable, too crowded. And Port Oakes is full of untrained wanna-be’s running around.” Grim started ticking off on his fingers. “Sharkhead is sterile, Grandville is possessed by Recluse and his cronies, and St. Martial is full of too much emotion to wade through. Where else can we go?”
The man smiled. “Paragon City.”
“Paragon?”
“How many powerful dark mages are there? They don’t touch dark magic because it’s not” He made air quotes, “’pretty’.”
“Hmph, but using magic to save people. Been there, did that, got the lectures.”
“You also got me.”
“Well, yeah, that was a bonus.”
The man moved away from the desk and went over to a book case. “You know, Paragon isn’t all that beautiful on the inside. Underneath all the pretty parks and heroes in spandex…” He gave Grim a suggestive wink, “is a lot of corruption and decay. Not all heroes are perfect. They all need someone to knock them down a few pegs, and what better way to do it than from the inside?”
Grim stroked his goatee, as he did when he was thinking. “You might be right, Dysio. Paragon needs to know how imperfect it really is.”
“Mmhm. And besides, they have bigger buildings.”
“True.”
“I kinda miss Steel Canyon. And the university. And all those football players.”
“Did you do them all?” Grim asked slyly.
“Even the coaches.”
“Nice…” Grim came up behind him. “Were they tasty?”
“Not as good as you,” Dysio replied, and embraced him. “So what do you think? Go back to Paragon?”
“I think I might. I’ve made a name for myself here, but I think they’re catching on to me.”
“That’s the problem with dark magic, it leaves residue no matter what you do.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help with that.”
“But you’ve given me spells and abilities that these stupid Thorns can’t even fathom. They can’t trace some of the work I’ve done. They know it’s dark magic, but they don’t know it’s me, and that’s a plus.”
“But they know you’re a dark mage. You’ve made no secret about that.”
Grim glared. “I won’t make a secret about that, nor will I make a secret about my choice in sex partners.”
Dysio knew he pressed a soft spot with Grim’s pride. He liked to see Grim mad sometimes. It brought a new dimension to their coupling. Dysio bent down and kissed Grim gently on the lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” Grim couldn’t stay mad for long, especially in the arms of his lover. He rested against Dysio’s broad chest, silver chains scratching his cheek. “Maybe I will go back.”
“Good,” Dysio said with a wicked smile. “Very, very good.”
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
He ran. That was the only thing he knew how to do, and he couldn’t even do that well.
He glanced behind him for half a second. They were still on him, screaming like banshees. He whipped around a corner into an alleyway. He tried to jump over a bag of trash but tripped over it, and fell on his shoulder, skidding a good ten feet on the concrete. He struggled up, but felt someone grab him by the back of his backpack and pick him up, and throw him into the fence.
He stared into the maniacal eyes of Joey Tebow, captain of the local track team, baseball team, and all around jock.
“You can’t run,” he said, grinning. His posse behind him were all laughing and grinning at him.
Joey raised a hand to punch him, and someone yelled, “HEY!”
The group turned to the entrance to the alley. A man in a black biker jacket stood there, glaring at the group.
“Leave that kid alone,” he said, advancing into the alley.
When Joey was in this kind of a mood, he was insolent and uncaring. “What’re you gonna do about it, old man? You can’t touch us, we’re kids.”
The man gave him a cold smile. “Hm, you know, that’s right.” He casually lifted a hand and slowly opened his fingers wide.
Joey’s eyes went wide, and he dropped the boy. The rest of the group stared at something in the air, and then the man made a pushing motion. The boys screamed and ran down the other end of the alley.
The man nodded, turned his attention to the boy. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and rubbing his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Sure. This happen to you a lot?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
The man’s gaze softened. “You should do something about it.”
He humphed. “Too fat to take karate, too much of a klutz.”
The man smiled, this was a lot warmer than the one he gave Joey. “I know that feeling. By the way, my name’s Nathan.”
“Rob.” He took the offered hand.
“I think I should walk you home to make sure they don’t change their minds and come after you.”
“Eh, well, okay.”
They walked for a little while in silence, and then Nathan said, “You know, I was in your shoes once.”
“Really?” Rob looked over the handsome man. He looked very strong and not that easy to push around.
“Got beat up every night after school for four years. Same kids. I still remember their names.”
“What did you do? Did you tell anybody?”
“Heh, like anyone believed me.” He fell silent, glanced in his direction. “Nobody wanted to help a fat nerd.”
“Oh,” Rob looked down at the sidewalk as they walked.
“So that’s why I want to help you.”
“Me?” He stopped. He was only a block away from his house.
“Sure.” Nathan stopped with him. “One of the things you need to learn is how to defend yourself, and I can help you with that.”
“I’m too fat.”
“We can take care of that.”
“I have asthma.”
“We can take care of that, too.”
“I don’t know.”
He made an encompassing motion. “I’m not going to be around all the time to save your ass. I can help you. If you don’t want to take the help, then you’re going to grow up to be a bitter, angry man.”
“I’ll think about it, okay? Will you be around tomorrow?”
“I’ll make a point of it if you want.”
If he could get this guy to walk him home all the time, it would be well worth it. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He started to walk away.
“Hey, Nathan, what did you do to them to make them run away?”
He turned around and had a slightly sad look on his face. “I showed them things nobody should ever see.”
“They did it again?”
He looked up at his mother. “Yeah.”
“What do you do to get them mad at you?”
“I don’t know, mom.” Breathe?
“You must be doing something. Want an éclair?”
“Sure.”
He sat at the kitchen table and munched on his éclair. His sister came downstairs, Tara the toothpick.
“Eating again?” He always seemed to be eating when she came around. Tara made a disgusted noise and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her uniform for Drenched Donuts down the street. His mother sighed and started pulling out supper.
After a hearty chicken parmesan with tons of macaroni and cheese, he went upstairs and flicked on his computer. His shoulder was still sore, but it hadn’t been scraped as badly as he thought. He had no real friends, nobody he could even email or IM. He played a few shoot-em-up games, and shut it off half an hour before he had to go bed.
He went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror. He had brown eyes, brown hair, was fat and unremarkable. He didn’t know what caused the posse to come after him night after night. Maybe he was smarter than they were, maybe he did have something they didn’t.
Rob took out his scrapbook of heroes he adored. Tons of heroes he had read about, and almost all their escapades…he had been lax in his collection, so his scrapbook was about a year old. Some of the heroes in it had retired, disappeared, or died. Sometimes, when he looked at it, he wished he could be a hero, too.
Nobody wants a fat kid, he said to himself, as he got ready for bed.
The next day, Joey accosted him in the hall. “We didn’t get a chance to finish our little talk,” he said to Rob, as he grinned with the same maniacal look he had the day before. “We’ll be waiting.”
Rob bolted out of the school and started running. He didn’t know where he’d meet Nathan, if at all –
He ran into what seemed like a soft brick wall. “Hey,” said Nathan, “what’s the rush?”
“They’re after—“
“Like I said, I’m not going to be around all the time. Time to start your training.”
“Training?”
“If you can’t fight, run. If you can’t run, hide.”
Rob looked around frantically.
“Stop. Calm down. Look at your environment. You’re small enough to hide here – “ he motioned to a small alcove behind him. “If you’re desperate, you can hide in that dumpster over there.”
“In the dumpster?!”
“Trust me, nobody looks there.”
“And how long am I supposed to stay there?”
“You’ll know. You might be wrong at first, but you’ll learn.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Personally, I’d rather stand and fight.”
“You can do that.”
“Like I said, I didn’t always. C’mon, I’ll teach you basic brawling techniques. I don’t know judo or akido or anything like that…though I can ask someone I know.”
In the park two blocks from his house, Nathan taught him basic punching and blocking moves. Nathan was an encouraging teacher, helping Rob perfect his form and strength. Nathan often stood still while Rob punched at him. Then one morning, about three weeks later, he pulled on his pants and they fell off. He hadn’t realized he was tightening his belt throughout his time with Nathan.
Nathan was usually at the school to get him, but this afternoon he wasn’t there. This wasn’t like him. Rob walked home, and when he got home, he realized he hadn’t been ambushed. He went upstairs to his room, skipping his mother’s brownies, and practiced the moves Nathan taught him.
Nathan returned a few days later. He looked tired. “I had some business to take care of,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have a way to contact you.”
“You can leave a message with my mom.”
“Got a phone number?”
“She doesn’t like phone calls. You can go to our house.” He had known this guy for a month. If he was a pervert, he would have come on to him by now. “C’mon, I’ll bring you over.”
Rob brought him over to the house. Nathan stayed at the foot of the townhouse and looked up the stairs. “You can meet my mom.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow and mounted the steps. “Where’s your dad?”
“They’re divorced.”
“Ah.” He followed Rob to the door. Rob announced himself, and his mother came into the hallway.
She looked up and up at the tall, handsome man and just stared at him. She didn’t hear Rob talking to her, so smitten she was by him. She did manage to catch his name.
“Oh, so nice to meet you –“ His hand was huge around hers. “Would you like some cookies?”
“No thank you, ma’am.”
She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, call me Annie.”
“All right.” He smiled, and she wanted to melt.
“C’mon up to my room,” Rob said excitedly. This was the first time he had invited a friend to his house, and he wanted to show him everything. Nathan followed him up the stairs to his room.
Nathan entered the small room and looked around, his smile growing. “Reminds me of my room when I was your age.” Nathan walked around a little and saw the scrapbook on his desk. “You like heroes?”
“Yeah, I used to read a lot about them. But there’s so many of them now, it’s hard to keep up.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nathan opened the scrap book and paged through it. “I remember some of these.”
“It’s a little out of date.”
Nathan stopped paging, and looked down at one of the pictures. It was a white-haired man, bathed in white light. Rob came and looked around Nathan’s elbow to see who he was looking at. “Oh, that’s Masonry. He died last year.”
Nathan swallowed and set the book down. He looked at the book, took a deep breath and glanced around the room again. Rob started showing him other things that he owned, and Nathan made non committal noises over them.
“Rob, dinner!”
Nathan put a hand on the door. “Guess I’d better be going.”
“No, maybe she’s made enough for you, too.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose –“
“It’s okay, really! Mom, mom, can Nathan stay?”
“Well, uh –“
Nathan put his hands up. “Really, I can go—“
But Rob was already pulling Nathan by his jacket into the kitchen. Rob looked at all the food piled on his plate. “I don’t need all that.” He got another plate, and he poured some of the shepherd’s pie into it. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
“I don’t want to be accused of taking food out of your mouth,” Nathan said, looking at the setting at the table.
“It’s okay. Time for me to go on a diet, anyways.”
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged out of his jacket. He wore short sleeves, and his arms were huge, muscular and built. Rob’s mother sat across from him, and they all ate, Rob chattering constantly. When dinner was done, he got up and went to the bathroom.
Annie smiled at Nathan. “I’ve never seen him so excited.”
“That’s good. He’s a good kid.”
She nodded. “I just wish he’d stop bothering the boys at school. They keep beating him up.”
“I doubt he’s bothering them. Sometimes bullies don’t need a reason.”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t understand. He gets good grades. They still beat him up.”
Nathan looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut. He glanced at the clock. “I really have to go.”
Rob came back into the room, and Nathan repeated himself. “Thank you very much for dinner, Annie.” He shook her hand again. He left the apartment with the promise to see him tomorrow.
Rob fell asleep that night, the happiest boy alive.
“Hey, Rob.”
Rob turned to see Joey coming up to him. Again, the grin that boded ill was plastered to his face. “Hey, that guy that’s teaching you how to fight? Know who he is?”
“He’s my friend,” Rob said defensively.
“He’s a dead man tonight.” Joey laughed and walked away.
Rob had to warn Nathan. For all he knew, Joey had arranged for a drive-by to happen. Again, he bolted out of school and saw Nathan across the street. He dove into the street, and ran to him. Nathan watched him, concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Joey…said….you’re…a dead man…”
“At one time I was.”
Rob didn’t have time to register that until he heard a man yell, “Hey, you! Perv!”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother. Rednecks.”
Sure enough, a pack of men, similar in looks and even attitude to Joey’s posse started coming up the street. The kids across the street in the schoolyard were gathered at the fence or on the sidewalk. Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder and shoved him behind him. “Back up.”
Rob did as he was told, backing up about twenty feet. Nathan stood, his legs spread just a little, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you calling perv?”
“You, hanging around the school and picking up little boys.”
“I’m his mentor.”
The man was balding but had a beard, and had a beer belly. He looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a week. The rest of them didn’t look that much better. “I’ll bet,” the man said, and suddenly punched Nathan in the side.
It was like he slammed his fist into a brick wall. Nathan didn’t move, and the man went down on his knees, howling and holding his hand. “Care to do that again?!” Nathan yelled at him.
Rob saw another man moving, a bat in his hand. “NAY—“
Nathan lifted his arm to block. Rob could hear the crack of the bat as it connected with Nathan’s arm. The arm didn’t waver. Nathan moved his arm down, wrapped his hand around the bat and yanked it out of the man’s hand. The man fell forward, and Nathan gave him a push with the bat so he fell onto the ground. Then he snapped the bat over his knee as if it was a twig.
“Anybody else?” Nathan demanded, dropping the remnants of the bat. The group of rednecks suddenly realized they needed to be somewhere else, as they bolted, leaving their two compatriots writhing on the ground.
“Thought not.” He turned to Rob, who was staring at him in almost adoration.
“You’re a hero,” he said quietly.
Nathan put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t spread it around.”
“Wow…”
“This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop training you. In fact, it’s time to start working on building muscles. You’re going on a diet.”
“Aw, man…”
Nathan didn’t show up every day, but when he did, his training was relentless. Rob started losing weight faster than he could buy clothes. Kids didn’t bother him, after seeing him work out in the school’s gymnasium.
Then, one day, he saw Joey accosting another boy. Rob went up to Joey. “Leave him alone.”
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
The fight was quick but brutal. Rob punched him solidly in the nose. Joey yelled and stumbled away, banging against the lockers as he dashed down the hall to the school nurse. Rob checked on the boy, and smiled a little as he escorted him to his next class.
Nathan was waiting for him outside. Rob told him proudly what he had done, and Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “You don’t need me, then.”
“What?”
“I’ll still come around, but I think you’re doing fine on your own. You can use the school’s gym, right?”
He nodded. He looked up at Nathan. “But I don’t want you to leave.”
“Remember what I said the first day I met you. I can’t always be here to save your ass.”
He looked down, sad. Nathan tilted his head and looked down at him. “There’s only one thing I ask.”
Rob wiped his nose. He was trying not to cry.
Nathan met Rob's eyes. “Just pay it forward.”
Inspiration: "The Headmaster's Ritual," The Smiths.
He glanced behind him for half a second. They were still on him, screaming like banshees. He whipped around a corner into an alleyway. He tried to jump over a bag of trash but tripped over it, and fell on his shoulder, skidding a good ten feet on the concrete. He struggled up, but felt someone grab him by the back of his backpack and pick him up, and throw him into the fence.
He stared into the maniacal eyes of Joey Tebow, captain of the local track team, baseball team, and all around jock.
“You can’t run,” he said, grinning. His posse behind him were all laughing and grinning at him.
Joey raised a hand to punch him, and someone yelled, “HEY!”
The group turned to the entrance to the alley. A man in a black biker jacket stood there, glaring at the group.
“Leave that kid alone,” he said, advancing into the alley.
When Joey was in this kind of a mood, he was insolent and uncaring. “What’re you gonna do about it, old man? You can’t touch us, we’re kids.”
The man gave him a cold smile. “Hm, you know, that’s right.” He casually lifted a hand and slowly opened his fingers wide.
Joey’s eyes went wide, and he dropped the boy. The rest of the group stared at something in the air, and then the man made a pushing motion. The boys screamed and ran down the other end of the alley.
The man nodded, turned his attention to the boy. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and rubbing his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Sure. This happen to you a lot?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
The man’s gaze softened. “You should do something about it.”
He humphed. “Too fat to take karate, too much of a klutz.”
The man smiled, this was a lot warmer than the one he gave Joey. “I know that feeling. By the way, my name’s Nathan.”
“Rob.” He took the offered hand.
“I think I should walk you home to make sure they don’t change their minds and come after you.”
“Eh, well, okay.”
They walked for a little while in silence, and then Nathan said, “You know, I was in your shoes once.”
“Really?” Rob looked over the handsome man. He looked very strong and not that easy to push around.
“Got beat up every night after school for four years. Same kids. I still remember their names.”
“What did you do? Did you tell anybody?”
“Heh, like anyone believed me.” He fell silent, glanced in his direction. “Nobody wanted to help a fat nerd.”
“Oh,” Rob looked down at the sidewalk as they walked.
“So that’s why I want to help you.”
“Me?” He stopped. He was only a block away from his house.
“Sure.” Nathan stopped with him. “One of the things you need to learn is how to defend yourself, and I can help you with that.”
“I’m too fat.”
“We can take care of that.”
“I have asthma.”
“We can take care of that, too.”
“I don’t know.”
He made an encompassing motion. “I’m not going to be around all the time to save your ass. I can help you. If you don’t want to take the help, then you’re going to grow up to be a bitter, angry man.”
“I’ll think about it, okay? Will you be around tomorrow?”
“I’ll make a point of it if you want.”
If he could get this guy to walk him home all the time, it would be well worth it. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He started to walk away.
“Hey, Nathan, what did you do to them to make them run away?”
He turned around and had a slightly sad look on his face. “I showed them things nobody should ever see.”
“They did it again?”
He looked up at his mother. “Yeah.”
“What do you do to get them mad at you?”
“I don’t know, mom.” Breathe?
“You must be doing something. Want an éclair?”
“Sure.”
He sat at the kitchen table and munched on his éclair. His sister came downstairs, Tara the toothpick.
“Eating again?” He always seemed to be eating when she came around. Tara made a disgusted noise and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her uniform for Drenched Donuts down the street. His mother sighed and started pulling out supper.
After a hearty chicken parmesan with tons of macaroni and cheese, he went upstairs and flicked on his computer. His shoulder was still sore, but it hadn’t been scraped as badly as he thought. He had no real friends, nobody he could even email or IM. He played a few shoot-em-up games, and shut it off half an hour before he had to go bed.
He went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror. He had brown eyes, brown hair, was fat and unremarkable. He didn’t know what caused the posse to come after him night after night. Maybe he was smarter than they were, maybe he did have something they didn’t.
Rob took out his scrapbook of heroes he adored. Tons of heroes he had read about, and almost all their escapades…he had been lax in his collection, so his scrapbook was about a year old. Some of the heroes in it had retired, disappeared, or died. Sometimes, when he looked at it, he wished he could be a hero, too.
Nobody wants a fat kid, he said to himself, as he got ready for bed.
The next day, Joey accosted him in the hall. “We didn’t get a chance to finish our little talk,” he said to Rob, as he grinned with the same maniacal look he had the day before. “We’ll be waiting.”
Rob bolted out of the school and started running. He didn’t know where he’d meet Nathan, if at all –
He ran into what seemed like a soft brick wall. “Hey,” said Nathan, “what’s the rush?”
“They’re after—“
“Like I said, I’m not going to be around all the time. Time to start your training.”
“Training?”
“If you can’t fight, run. If you can’t run, hide.”
Rob looked around frantically.
“Stop. Calm down. Look at your environment. You’re small enough to hide here – “ he motioned to a small alcove behind him. “If you’re desperate, you can hide in that dumpster over there.”
“In the dumpster?!”
“Trust me, nobody looks there.”
“And how long am I supposed to stay there?”
“You’ll know. You might be wrong at first, but you’ll learn.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Personally, I’d rather stand and fight.”
“You can do that.”
“Like I said, I didn’t always. C’mon, I’ll teach you basic brawling techniques. I don’t know judo or akido or anything like that…though I can ask someone I know.”
In the park two blocks from his house, Nathan taught him basic punching and blocking moves. Nathan was an encouraging teacher, helping Rob perfect his form and strength. Nathan often stood still while Rob punched at him. Then one morning, about three weeks later, he pulled on his pants and they fell off. He hadn’t realized he was tightening his belt throughout his time with Nathan.
Nathan was usually at the school to get him, but this afternoon he wasn’t there. This wasn’t like him. Rob walked home, and when he got home, he realized he hadn’t been ambushed. He went upstairs to his room, skipping his mother’s brownies, and practiced the moves Nathan taught him.
Nathan returned a few days later. He looked tired. “I had some business to take care of,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have a way to contact you.”
“You can leave a message with my mom.”
“Got a phone number?”
“She doesn’t like phone calls. You can go to our house.” He had known this guy for a month. If he was a pervert, he would have come on to him by now. “C’mon, I’ll bring you over.”
Rob brought him over to the house. Nathan stayed at the foot of the townhouse and looked up the stairs. “You can meet my mom.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow and mounted the steps. “Where’s your dad?”
“They’re divorced.”
“Ah.” He followed Rob to the door. Rob announced himself, and his mother came into the hallway.
She looked up and up at the tall, handsome man and just stared at him. She didn’t hear Rob talking to her, so smitten she was by him. She did manage to catch his name.
“Oh, so nice to meet you –“ His hand was huge around hers. “Would you like some cookies?”
“No thank you, ma’am.”
She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, call me Annie.”
“All right.” He smiled, and she wanted to melt.
“C’mon up to my room,” Rob said excitedly. This was the first time he had invited a friend to his house, and he wanted to show him everything. Nathan followed him up the stairs to his room.
Nathan entered the small room and looked around, his smile growing. “Reminds me of my room when I was your age.” Nathan walked around a little and saw the scrapbook on his desk. “You like heroes?”
“Yeah, I used to read a lot about them. But there’s so many of them now, it’s hard to keep up.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nathan opened the scrap book and paged through it. “I remember some of these.”
“It’s a little out of date.”
Nathan stopped paging, and looked down at one of the pictures. It was a white-haired man, bathed in white light. Rob came and looked around Nathan’s elbow to see who he was looking at. “Oh, that’s Masonry. He died last year.”
Nathan swallowed and set the book down. He looked at the book, took a deep breath and glanced around the room again. Rob started showing him other things that he owned, and Nathan made non committal noises over them.
“Rob, dinner!”
Nathan put a hand on the door. “Guess I’d better be going.”
“No, maybe she’s made enough for you, too.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose –“
“It’s okay, really! Mom, mom, can Nathan stay?”
“Well, uh –“
Nathan put his hands up. “Really, I can go—“
But Rob was already pulling Nathan by his jacket into the kitchen. Rob looked at all the food piled on his plate. “I don’t need all that.” He got another plate, and he poured some of the shepherd’s pie into it. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
“I don’t want to be accused of taking food out of your mouth,” Nathan said, looking at the setting at the table.
“It’s okay. Time for me to go on a diet, anyways.”
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged out of his jacket. He wore short sleeves, and his arms were huge, muscular and built. Rob’s mother sat across from him, and they all ate, Rob chattering constantly. When dinner was done, he got up and went to the bathroom.
Annie smiled at Nathan. “I’ve never seen him so excited.”
“That’s good. He’s a good kid.”
She nodded. “I just wish he’d stop bothering the boys at school. They keep beating him up.”
“I doubt he’s bothering them. Sometimes bullies don’t need a reason.”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t understand. He gets good grades. They still beat him up.”
Nathan looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut. He glanced at the clock. “I really have to go.”
Rob came back into the room, and Nathan repeated himself. “Thank you very much for dinner, Annie.” He shook her hand again. He left the apartment with the promise to see him tomorrow.
Rob fell asleep that night, the happiest boy alive.
“Hey, Rob.”
Rob turned to see Joey coming up to him. Again, the grin that boded ill was plastered to his face. “Hey, that guy that’s teaching you how to fight? Know who he is?”
“He’s my friend,” Rob said defensively.
“He’s a dead man tonight.” Joey laughed and walked away.
Rob had to warn Nathan. For all he knew, Joey had arranged for a drive-by to happen. Again, he bolted out of school and saw Nathan across the street. He dove into the street, and ran to him. Nathan watched him, concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Joey…said….you’re…a dead man…”
“At one time I was.”
Rob didn’t have time to register that until he heard a man yell, “Hey, you! Perv!”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother. Rednecks.”
Sure enough, a pack of men, similar in looks and even attitude to Joey’s posse started coming up the street. The kids across the street in the schoolyard were gathered at the fence or on the sidewalk. Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder and shoved him behind him. “Back up.”
Rob did as he was told, backing up about twenty feet. Nathan stood, his legs spread just a little, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you calling perv?”
“You, hanging around the school and picking up little boys.”
“I’m his mentor.”
The man was balding but had a beard, and had a beer belly. He looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a week. The rest of them didn’t look that much better. “I’ll bet,” the man said, and suddenly punched Nathan in the side.
It was like he slammed his fist into a brick wall. Nathan didn’t move, and the man went down on his knees, howling and holding his hand. “Care to do that again?!” Nathan yelled at him.
Rob saw another man moving, a bat in his hand. “NAY—“
Nathan lifted his arm to block. Rob could hear the crack of the bat as it connected with Nathan’s arm. The arm didn’t waver. Nathan moved his arm down, wrapped his hand around the bat and yanked it out of the man’s hand. The man fell forward, and Nathan gave him a push with the bat so he fell onto the ground. Then he snapped the bat over his knee as if it was a twig.
“Anybody else?” Nathan demanded, dropping the remnants of the bat. The group of rednecks suddenly realized they needed to be somewhere else, as they bolted, leaving their two compatriots writhing on the ground.
“Thought not.” He turned to Rob, who was staring at him in almost adoration.
“You’re a hero,” he said quietly.
Nathan put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t spread it around.”
“Wow…”
“This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop training you. In fact, it’s time to start working on building muscles. You’re going on a diet.”
“Aw, man…”
Nathan didn’t show up every day, but when he did, his training was relentless. Rob started losing weight faster than he could buy clothes. Kids didn’t bother him, after seeing him work out in the school’s gymnasium.
Then, one day, he saw Joey accosting another boy. Rob went up to Joey. “Leave him alone.”
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
The fight was quick but brutal. Rob punched him solidly in the nose. Joey yelled and stumbled away, banging against the lockers as he dashed down the hall to the school nurse. Rob checked on the boy, and smiled a little as he escorted him to his next class.
Nathan was waiting for him outside. Rob told him proudly what he had done, and Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “You don’t need me, then.”
“What?”
“I’ll still come around, but I think you’re doing fine on your own. You can use the school’s gym, right?”
He nodded. He looked up at Nathan. “But I don’t want you to leave.”
“Remember what I said the first day I met you. I can’t always be here to save your ass.”
He looked down, sad. Nathan tilted his head and looked down at him. “There’s only one thing I ask.”
Rob wiped his nose. He was trying not to cry.
Nathan met Rob's eyes. “Just pay it forward.”
Inspiration: "The Headmaster's Ritual," The Smiths.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Masonry thought it was stupid to join a gym. He was still working on perfecting his powers, hell, even using them at will would be a good start. A new gym had opened up in Skyway City, catering to super heroes. He figured that the reason most people joined would be to primp and preen in front of each other, to show off their massively muscular bods.
He opened the door to the Super Gym (original, that), and stepped inside. He was immediately assaulted by the clean smell of the place. The young girl at the front desk looked up from her magazine and gave him a smile. “Welcome to Super Gym, can I help you?”
“I’d like to sign up,” Masonry said.
“Okay, if you could fill out this form…”
He took the form offered and sat down in the not-so-comfortable fat chairs in the lobby. He wrote his real name, left off his hero name, and filled in the other necessary demographics like his height and weight. Personal trainer gender preference: Circle one. Male Female.
Let’s play it safe. Female.
He passed the form in to the girl. “Thank you, Mr…Greene.” She picked up the pen and filled in “Anonymous” when it asked for his hero name. “Okay, let me see, I think Judy’s available in about half an hour…”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“You can take a look around if you like. We’ll page you when she’s ready.”
“Okay,” he said, and started walking around.
He had no idea what these contraptions did, but he saw men and women on them, so he assumed they were some kind of weight training machines. He didn’t wander far from the lobby, because he didn’t want to get lost. “’Scuse me,” a woman said, and jogged past him. He thought that was silly, jogging in a building.
Masonry just watched some people, not really focusing on what they were doing, when he heard his name over the intercom. He found his way back to the lobby, and saw a woman with dark hair in black Lycra. She had muscles on top of muscles, and the Lycra was cut off at the midriff to show her six-pack abs. She was better built than some of the heroes he had seen.
“Hi, I’m Judy,” she said, and shook his hand in a bear grip. “I’ll be your trainer. Did you get a chance to look around?”
“It’s a big place, I was afraid to get lost.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take you on a tour.”
They wandered the huge building, where she helpfully pointed out cardio-vascular machines, weight training machines, body measurement machines, treadmills (he knew what those were), and all sorts of machines for all different kinds of things. Stair steppers, and ellipticals, rowing machines and free weights…it was all too confusing.
Then they went downstairs, where he saw the huge pool room. He needed to buy swimming trunks…he usually swam in costume, which was waterproof.
“Does this sound like something you’d like to do?”
He looked at her. “I think so.”
“Okay, then, let’s get started.”
She referred back to his form and turned it over. “Ever have the following medical conditions…”
He answered no to every question. “What is it you want to do? What’s your goal?”
“To keep in shape.”
“Do you do heroing?”
“On the weekends.”
“Uh huh, and what’s your day job?”
“I don’t have a day job.”
“Okay…”
Masonry gave her a disarming smile. She smiled back, though it was forced. “Okay, then, let’s take a look at your body mass index. It looks like you’re at a healthy weight. Do you want to develop muscles?”
“Sure, that’ll work.”
“Or strength training, or develop more mass…”
He shrugged. “I am putty in your hands.”
She looked him over. “Right,” she said, and shook her head. Masonry wondered if she was gay.
She wrote down a few things, and gave him an index card. “Here’s a list of machines I’d like you to try. You can start with this routine, and then we can work on how things go.”
“About how long will it take?”
“Say about an hour.”
“Okay.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do.”
For two hours, Masonry sat down at assorted machines and tried them out. They were harder than they looked, considering he wasn’t using any of his power to move the weights. He definitely was out of shape, as he found himself panting through the last leg of the workout. He looked up at Judy, who was smiling. You’re enjoying this, he thought with a twinge of anger.
“Good job for the first time. I’m assuming your power isn’t super strength.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward on the bench.
“Even mages need to keep in shape,” she said. She turned from him. “Will you be coming back tomorrow?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll check in with you, see how you’re doing. Thanks for coming by.” She gave him a little wave and left him.
Masonry got up from the bench and glanced around the room. Yeah, Frost is gonna get a real kick out this.
Masonry returned once every other day, except on weekends. For the first week, he barely got through the workout. He enjoyed the swimming afterward and could have spent all day in the pool.
The next week, he was pausing at an incline bench, when someone came up to him. “Can you spot for me?” he asked.
Masonry looked at the blond man, broad shouldered, and very muscular. Certainly someone he would not want to tangle with. “Spot?”
“Watch me while I’m lifting. Make sure I don’t drop the bar.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Great.” The man walked away. Nice ass, Masonry thought, and shoved that thought right out of his head.
The man lay down on the bench and Masonry stood over him. He remembered seeing other people do this, so he had some sort of familiarity with it. Masonry watched the man do his repetitions, about forty, and then he set the bar back on the standards. “That looked easy,” Masonry said.
“Eight hundred pounds,” the man said with a smile, and sat up. “Danny.”
“Nathan.” They shook hands. “Super strength?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Not.”
Danny laughed. “Heh, I see, doing it the old fashioned way. Well, thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Masonry said and looked at the next machine he had to do. He sighed and headed over to it.
Danny was just coming out of the shower as Masonry was walking in. “Hey,” they said to each other.
“Do you come here every day around this time?” Danny asked.
“Every other day, why?”
“I need a spotter.”
“I don’t know if I could lift 800 pounds if it dropped on you.”
“I haven’t dropped it yet, but it’s house rules you have a spotter.”
“Sure, I can help you out.”
“Great. See you next time.”
Masonry nodded, watched Danny leave. He had noticed the wedding ring on his finger. Heh, lucky girl, he thought.
Masonry often spotted for Danny, and the two men got to know each other a little better. Danny was more forthcoming with his private life than Masonry. Danny was married, had two children. His day job was working as an accountant for a subsidiary of Wentworth’s, while he did his heroing at night and on weekends. He was known as Captain Strongbow, even though he didn’t carry a bow. He didn’t do anything on Sunday, “that’s the Sabbath day.”
Masonry kept quiet about his life, saying that he did a little heroing, that he was in a relationship, and he really had no day job. Damn, he thought, I need to get a job. I feel like a sponge.
One day, Danny put two extra weights on the bar bell and lay down on the bench. “I think I’m ready,” he said, and took hold of the bar.
“What is it now?” Masonry asked.
“A thousand,” Danny grunted, lifting the bar off the standards and pulling it toward him.
Masonry stood close, watching his face. He was struggling, but, like all men, he was going to force himself through it. Then Masonry saw a look of alarm pass over Danny’s face. Masonry reached down, called upon the darkness, and with one hand grabbed the bar just before Danny’s arms collapsed.
“How…”
Masonry easily lifted the bar and set it back on the standards. Danny stared at him, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“I had a little help,” Masonry said with a smile.
“Evil,” Danny said, getting up off the bench. “You’re evil!”
Masonry looked down at his hands, and saw they were smoking with the remnants of the Netherworld. If he could guess, he figured his eyes were smoking as well.
“Spawn of Satan!” Danny cried, almost hysterical. Some of the other members of the gym turned in their direction.
“Danny, there’s nothing different about me.”
“Get away from me!” Danny ran from the room. Masonry stared after him, confused. What the hell..?
Masonry glanced at the people around the room, who turned and went back to their workouts. Masonry looked at the door, still confused, and hurried through his workout. He headed to the showers, and saw Danny hurriedly packing things in a bag.
“Danny…”
“Get thee hence!” Danny yelled, making a cross symbol with his index fingers.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I’m not a devil.” Not today.
“You consort with demons, you have the powers of darkness!”
“Yes,” Masonry said patiently. He wondered what Danny’s reaction would have been if he mentioned he was gay.
“I do not consort with demons. I am a God-fearing man, and believe in the power of Jesus Christ.”
“Okay, okay,” Masonry said, suddenly uncomfortable. “But using the darkness doesn’t make me evil.”
“It most certainly does. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you anymore.” He finished packing his bag and got up. “In fact, I probably can’t come back to this gym anymore, not while you’re here.”
“C’mon,” Masonry said, “this gym is big enough for both of us.”
Danny shoved by Masonry, avoiding touching him. “You corrupt everything you touch,” Danny said, “So goes the power of darkness.”
Oh, brother, Masonry thought, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s in the way that you use it.”
Danny turned his back on Masonry and stormed upstairs. Masonry’s confusion gave way to anger. Well, fuck you, too.
Masonry angrily went to his locker and started loading up his bag. He seethed as he stormed up the stairs to the lobby. At the entrance to the lobby stood a huge man with his arms folded across his chest, looking menancing. He caught Masonry’s eye and called, “Mr. Greene?”
“Yeah?”
“May I speak with you a moment?”
Masonry raised an eyebrow and followed the man into the corner. The man turned to him. He had perfected the “bouncer look” and gave it to Masonry. Masonry tossed his head back defiantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Greene, but we’ve received some complaints about your conduct here.”
“Complaints, my ass,” Masonry snarled. “All I did was stop a barbell from crushing someone’s chest.”
“Powers such as yours are not welcome here,” the man responded in kind.
“And this is a church?”
“We have upstanding members of the community here.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Masonry growled. “It shouldn’t matter what kind of power I have. It’s not like I summon demons in the middle of the swimming pool!” He hitched up his bag and glared at the man. “Screw it.” And screw you, and your fucking gym…
Masonry stormed out of the gym. Luckily he hadn’t left anything in the locker, and he didn’t care if he did. His mind swirled with epithets and revenge.
He stopped. “Well, screw them,” he said, and headed home. The first thing he was going to do when he got home was ask Frost for a weight machine. And then he was going to look up Captain Strongbow.
He opened the door to the Super Gym (original, that), and stepped inside. He was immediately assaulted by the clean smell of the place. The young girl at the front desk looked up from her magazine and gave him a smile. “Welcome to Super Gym, can I help you?”
“I’d like to sign up,” Masonry said.
“Okay, if you could fill out this form…”
He took the form offered and sat down in the not-so-comfortable fat chairs in the lobby. He wrote his real name, left off his hero name, and filled in the other necessary demographics like his height and weight. Personal trainer gender preference: Circle one. Male Female.
Let’s play it safe. Female.
He passed the form in to the girl. “Thank you, Mr…Greene.” She picked up the pen and filled in “Anonymous” when it asked for his hero name. “Okay, let me see, I think Judy’s available in about half an hour…”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“You can take a look around if you like. We’ll page you when she’s ready.”
“Okay,” he said, and started walking around.
He had no idea what these contraptions did, but he saw men and women on them, so he assumed they were some kind of weight training machines. He didn’t wander far from the lobby, because he didn’t want to get lost. “’Scuse me,” a woman said, and jogged past him. He thought that was silly, jogging in a building.
Masonry just watched some people, not really focusing on what they were doing, when he heard his name over the intercom. He found his way back to the lobby, and saw a woman with dark hair in black Lycra. She had muscles on top of muscles, and the Lycra was cut off at the midriff to show her six-pack abs. She was better built than some of the heroes he had seen.
“Hi, I’m Judy,” she said, and shook his hand in a bear grip. “I’ll be your trainer. Did you get a chance to look around?”
“It’s a big place, I was afraid to get lost.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take you on a tour.”
They wandered the huge building, where she helpfully pointed out cardio-vascular machines, weight training machines, body measurement machines, treadmills (he knew what those were), and all sorts of machines for all different kinds of things. Stair steppers, and ellipticals, rowing machines and free weights…it was all too confusing.
Then they went downstairs, where he saw the huge pool room. He needed to buy swimming trunks…he usually swam in costume, which was waterproof.
“Does this sound like something you’d like to do?”
He looked at her. “I think so.”
“Okay, then, let’s get started.”
She referred back to his form and turned it over. “Ever have the following medical conditions…”
He answered no to every question. “What is it you want to do? What’s your goal?”
“To keep in shape.”
“Do you do heroing?”
“On the weekends.”
“Uh huh, and what’s your day job?”
“I don’t have a day job.”
“Okay…”
Masonry gave her a disarming smile. She smiled back, though it was forced. “Okay, then, let’s take a look at your body mass index. It looks like you’re at a healthy weight. Do you want to develop muscles?”
“Sure, that’ll work.”
“Or strength training, or develop more mass…”
He shrugged. “I am putty in your hands.”
She looked him over. “Right,” she said, and shook her head. Masonry wondered if she was gay.
She wrote down a few things, and gave him an index card. “Here’s a list of machines I’d like you to try. You can start with this routine, and then we can work on how things go.”
“About how long will it take?”
“Say about an hour.”
“Okay.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do.”
For two hours, Masonry sat down at assorted machines and tried them out. They were harder than they looked, considering he wasn’t using any of his power to move the weights. He definitely was out of shape, as he found himself panting through the last leg of the workout. He looked up at Judy, who was smiling. You’re enjoying this, he thought with a twinge of anger.
“Good job for the first time. I’m assuming your power isn’t super strength.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward on the bench.
“Even mages need to keep in shape,” she said. She turned from him. “Will you be coming back tomorrow?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll check in with you, see how you’re doing. Thanks for coming by.” She gave him a little wave and left him.
Masonry got up from the bench and glanced around the room. Yeah, Frost is gonna get a real kick out this.
Masonry returned once every other day, except on weekends. For the first week, he barely got through the workout. He enjoyed the swimming afterward and could have spent all day in the pool.
The next week, he was pausing at an incline bench, when someone came up to him. “Can you spot for me?” he asked.
Masonry looked at the blond man, broad shouldered, and very muscular. Certainly someone he would not want to tangle with. “Spot?”
“Watch me while I’m lifting. Make sure I don’t drop the bar.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Great.” The man walked away. Nice ass, Masonry thought, and shoved that thought right out of his head.
The man lay down on the bench and Masonry stood over him. He remembered seeing other people do this, so he had some sort of familiarity with it. Masonry watched the man do his repetitions, about forty, and then he set the bar back on the standards. “That looked easy,” Masonry said.
“Eight hundred pounds,” the man said with a smile, and sat up. “Danny.”
“Nathan.” They shook hands. “Super strength?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Not.”
Danny laughed. “Heh, I see, doing it the old fashioned way. Well, thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Masonry said and looked at the next machine he had to do. He sighed and headed over to it.
Danny was just coming out of the shower as Masonry was walking in. “Hey,” they said to each other.
“Do you come here every day around this time?” Danny asked.
“Every other day, why?”
“I need a spotter.”
“I don’t know if I could lift 800 pounds if it dropped on you.”
“I haven’t dropped it yet, but it’s house rules you have a spotter.”
“Sure, I can help you out.”
“Great. See you next time.”
Masonry nodded, watched Danny leave. He had noticed the wedding ring on his finger. Heh, lucky girl, he thought.
Masonry often spotted for Danny, and the two men got to know each other a little better. Danny was more forthcoming with his private life than Masonry. Danny was married, had two children. His day job was working as an accountant for a subsidiary of Wentworth’s, while he did his heroing at night and on weekends. He was known as Captain Strongbow, even though he didn’t carry a bow. He didn’t do anything on Sunday, “that’s the Sabbath day.”
Masonry kept quiet about his life, saying that he did a little heroing, that he was in a relationship, and he really had no day job. Damn, he thought, I need to get a job. I feel like a sponge.
One day, Danny put two extra weights on the bar bell and lay down on the bench. “I think I’m ready,” he said, and took hold of the bar.
“What is it now?” Masonry asked.
“A thousand,” Danny grunted, lifting the bar off the standards and pulling it toward him.
Masonry stood close, watching his face. He was struggling, but, like all men, he was going to force himself through it. Then Masonry saw a look of alarm pass over Danny’s face. Masonry reached down, called upon the darkness, and with one hand grabbed the bar just before Danny’s arms collapsed.
“How…”
Masonry easily lifted the bar and set it back on the standards. Danny stared at him, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“I had a little help,” Masonry said with a smile.
“Evil,” Danny said, getting up off the bench. “You’re evil!”
Masonry looked down at his hands, and saw they were smoking with the remnants of the Netherworld. If he could guess, he figured his eyes were smoking as well.
“Spawn of Satan!” Danny cried, almost hysterical. Some of the other members of the gym turned in their direction.
“Danny, there’s nothing different about me.”
“Get away from me!” Danny ran from the room. Masonry stared after him, confused. What the hell..?
Masonry glanced at the people around the room, who turned and went back to their workouts. Masonry looked at the door, still confused, and hurried through his workout. He headed to the showers, and saw Danny hurriedly packing things in a bag.
“Danny…”
“Get thee hence!” Danny yelled, making a cross symbol with his index fingers.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I’m not a devil.” Not today.
“You consort with demons, you have the powers of darkness!”
“Yes,” Masonry said patiently. He wondered what Danny’s reaction would have been if he mentioned he was gay.
“I do not consort with demons. I am a God-fearing man, and believe in the power of Jesus Christ.”
“Okay, okay,” Masonry said, suddenly uncomfortable. “But using the darkness doesn’t make me evil.”
“It most certainly does. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you anymore.” He finished packing his bag and got up. “In fact, I probably can’t come back to this gym anymore, not while you’re here.”
“C’mon,” Masonry said, “this gym is big enough for both of us.”
Danny shoved by Masonry, avoiding touching him. “You corrupt everything you touch,” Danny said, “So goes the power of darkness.”
Oh, brother, Masonry thought, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s in the way that you use it.”
Danny turned his back on Masonry and stormed upstairs. Masonry’s confusion gave way to anger. Well, fuck you, too.
Masonry angrily went to his locker and started loading up his bag. He seethed as he stormed up the stairs to the lobby. At the entrance to the lobby stood a huge man with his arms folded across his chest, looking menancing. He caught Masonry’s eye and called, “Mr. Greene?”
“Yeah?”
“May I speak with you a moment?”
Masonry raised an eyebrow and followed the man into the corner. The man turned to him. He had perfected the “bouncer look” and gave it to Masonry. Masonry tossed his head back defiantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Greene, but we’ve received some complaints about your conduct here.”
“Complaints, my ass,” Masonry snarled. “All I did was stop a barbell from crushing someone’s chest.”
“Powers such as yours are not welcome here,” the man responded in kind.
“And this is a church?”
“We have upstanding members of the community here.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Masonry growled. “It shouldn’t matter what kind of power I have. It’s not like I summon demons in the middle of the swimming pool!” He hitched up his bag and glared at the man. “Screw it.” And screw you, and your fucking gym…
Masonry stormed out of the gym. Luckily he hadn’t left anything in the locker, and he didn’t care if he did. His mind swirled with epithets and revenge.
He stopped. “Well, screw them,” he said, and headed home. The first thing he was going to do when he got home was ask Frost for a weight machine. And then he was going to look up Captain Strongbow.