"My dear Lady," Anansi started, pulling up a chair next to Inez, spinning it around backwards and straddling it, despite his previous advice to Risk, "It's my job to know about them, and a great many things. Don't know if you were here earlier, but I'm a collector of sorts. That is to say that I collect stories. They're a...driving passion of mine. But what brings you here all the way from the Fingers?"
JOIN AN RP YOU SLACKERS!
Inez chewed her lip worriedly. She hadn't worked out a story about why she had left, she couldn't very well tell the truth. It was just all so wrong. She twirled a lock of blond hair around her finger and tried to think. “I... Um... I just... Decided to move. That's all. Capitol city of Andoria seemed like a nice place to live. No?”
Smiling she crossed her legs at the knee and said, “I collect flowers. Glass ones, dried ones, paintings of flowers, all sorts, really. And words. I like words, big ones, small ones.” She grinned. “I like the way you talk, it's funny. Oh, I don't mean funny, I mean umm... charming?”
She blushed and smiled for all she was worth. “Did you know I'm going to be hunting goblins? I signed up over there.” She pointed toward the sheet. “I really like that word. Goblins. You are apparently going to be killing jotlings or loksters or something else...”
Keke interrupted, “Darling child, they are one and the same. Goblins are Jotnar, they are actually a form of corrupted gnomes that were spelled by Loki.”
“No, I really don't think so. He said that I was related to them, and I've never even heard of them.” Inez said brightly.
“He means, because you are a shifter.” said Keke, rolling her eyes.
Eyes wide, Inez whispered, “But how did you... know? How could you possibly know?”
“You smell like a wet cat, for starters.” Keke wrinkled her nose delicately.
Anansi shook his head.
"She doesn't mean that, the wet cat part. It's a shame you don't have a more interesting story as to why you're here. Or maybe you do and just can't tell? Never can be too sure. Regardless. The Jotnar are the spawn of Loki, just as the Shifters are. He's Chaos personified, and a bit of a trickster. I like his style. But in a sense, Shifters and Jotnar, INCLUDING Goblins, are related."
The man rolled his neck, giving off an oddible pop.
"You should definitely have a drink. And don't take Her Majesty too seriously. She likes to toy with people. I'm sure she's had some sort of horrible incident in her formative years. I'm just too much of a Heh.... A gentle AHA HA HA HA HA. Ahem. I'm too much of a gentleman to really ask her about her past. It's just not in me to pry."
He grinned and held a hand conspiratorially to his face, speaking in a stage whisper.
"That's a bit of a misnomer. It is absolutely in me to pry. But don't tell any of these rubes that. They'd never forgive me."
"I meant exactly what I said." Keke smiled. "You smell warm, and human and under that, you smell distinctly of cat. Some sort of feral beast, a great cat of some sort, unless I miss my guess entirely?"
"Yes well." Inez said, slightly offended and taken aback. "You smell like the corpse you are, dry and cold and nasty."
Crossing her arms, Inez settled in to being quite mad indeed just before she had an attack of conscience. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that... But you are hands down the most riling person I ever did meet. And I have met some really nasty ones, let me tell you. Why, old Remy, he lived down the bayou from me, really I thought was the worst person ever. But then I met you. He pulls the wings off of flies just for the joy of it, but you do that to people. No, old Remy, he have nothing on you."
"I am nearly 400 years old." Keke said, exaggerating only slightly. "When one has been around so very long, their amusements come rarely and far between. Your ignorance is quite distracting though. This has been a remarkable night. So many new comers to this ratty old inn. I swear, there hasn't been this much fresh blood since..." She tapped her chin with a long fingernail. "Why, you may be correct Anansi, this may be the beginning of an epic tale. Fresh blood, goblins. What could possibly go wrong on a night like this?"
"Is she always like this?" Inez asked Anansi, for he seemed to know the most of her. And then remembering his previous statement about her past, "Oh and yes, I do have a bit of a tale about why I left the swamps... But lets save that for another day, shall we?"
She smiled and stood, cocking her head and listening to the music, "This is my very favorite song in the world!" she clapped her hands and twirled around. "What a lovely place this has turned out to be."
"As long as I've known her," replied Anansi, which to be honest wasn't really all that long, certainly not 400 years. The man crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. With the chair facing forward, there was nothing to lean back on. Chair and man tipped backwards, balancing precariously for a moment. They seemed to hang in the air, like a spider on a thread. Then gravity reasserted itself and The Spinner of Tales went tumbling backwards.
"Oof," he said getting back to his feet, "I meant to do that, all of you are aware of course? A little foolery does wonders to ease tension. And it IS an...enchanting song. I pegged you more for the Zydeco kind of girl, living down in the Fingers after all. Ah well, never can tell about people."
Fraise had stopped smiling by now. Her eyes...it would be quite exaggerating to say that they burned with a cool blue flame, but the spark in those pupils had shifted from a merry twinkle to something somewhat harder. It was not fun being here. It was the pits. She was fidgety, and it was now a newer, liquid smooth blue adrenaline that coursed through her blood. The adrenaline of poison. It was as if a glass soul was the one moving those lips and that young body.
"I...am bored. Why. Why do adults talk so much. Social niceties, satirical yabber yabber yabber. I've really had enough of that back there, home. It's not even a merry funtime of laughter anymore, I can't bear this atmosphere of veiled insuilts and verbal sparring anymore. If people want to be nasty, why not come out outright and be nasty? It's not worthy of my focus. And they say a child is naive. Right. Of course, it is adults that say that, so given the bias nature of that statement, I really should not be taking offense right?"
"Why are we just sitting here? Mmmm?"
"And I really thought that this would be something fun, I guess I was mistaken."
"All this talk about the Jotnar being related to us."
"It they could be my related younger incest born little brother and I still wouldn't care. It's just our job."
"This...is boring. When will we leave?"
And then the glass soul slithered away into the depths of the human psyche, leaving nothing but a merry, sparkling, twinkly eyed girl behind.
"I'm BORED. And I've finished my ICE-CREAM! Can we go can we go can we go can we go when can we go when can we go when can we go can we go and we go can we go please please pretty pretty please please please?" Tugging at the shirt of the storyteller nearest to her, she smiled a gaped toothed baby grin up towards the guy's spider-like face.
------------------------------
And in the inn, melting out of the shadows, huddled in a corner of Room 1...a single red eye flashed, and the crouched figure sat still.
Profile:
Room Number: 10
Name: Ultimus Omeganium
Age:17 The last age he remembers after he had gotten amnesia. Also he his aging was decreased making him appear 17.
Nationality: Unknown due to amnesia and comatose.
Race: Human
Mutation: True Shifter.WereDragon. He had first became a normal shifter through a fight with a Crimison Red and Gold Dragon in which turned him into a shifter. While he was sleeping after the battle with the dragon Loki came to him and changed him into a true shifter. In the process giving him amnesia and sending him into a deeper sleep which turned into a coma.
Background: Ultimus was the youngest monk of an ancient temple. He was a prodigy of Martial Arts as a whole. Any Martial Arts that had been developed he had mastered, but he was still young and lack discipline and wisdom.Even the martial arts with weapons. Though he was a very bright child never the less he was still naive. All the monks still admired his pure skills. As he was youngest at the temple that meant he still had to run errands.
One day the monks had sent him out to the nearest village, which used to be his former home before had committed his life to martial arts, for bread and harvest. When he arrived at the village it was destroyed. He save everyone he possibly could, but when he got to his parents home he had found that they were already dead, but his little brother and sister were missing. So he ran back up the road to the temple to tell them of what happened, but when he arrived the temple was destroyed as well. This time there was no one alive to save.
He lead the surviving villagers to a new settlement and helped them to develop a new life. He felt a strong guiltiness on his mind. In his heart he knew that he had to leave and find murders and destroyers of his parents, village, and temple. With no direction to go or leads to follow he wandered aimlessly. He traveled through all the lands spreading his story trying to find his brother and sister, as well as searching for his parent and masters murderer.
He visited cabins and inns spreading his story. The only thing that came up were worthless quest and pointless tales. He kept running into dead ends. Across the lands he was known as the Wanderer of Vengance. Even mages and druids heard of his story and they had came to admire him. They offer to teach him some of their ways in magic. He continued his training and further strengthen his martial arts and magic. He even began to develop his own style of martial arts, combining martial arts and magic.
In Ultimus wandering he had saved many villages, towns, and people. Earning respect across the land. He had arrived in one town where he heard rumors of a dragon that continuously terrorized villagers. He left the village to fight the dragon. He saw that the dragon had reached it's limit and he was ready to deliever the finishing blow. As he swung his fist in fiery blaze, he had gotten bitten by the dragon and it flung him into the air. He used the force from being flung into the air produced a skull crushing punch to the dragon and killed it. He then fed the entire village with the dragon's meat. He then made his own tunic, armguards, and shinguards. He took it to a mage to get it enchanted so only he could wear it.
He started to feel the effects of the bite from the dragon. His entire body began to burn up and ache horribly. So he went to sleep in an Inn in the nearest town. When he was sleep a mysterious figured stood over him. They then cast a spell over him. Then left a flyer that said Bad Moon Inn. The spell caused him to have amnesia, in which made him forget what he was questing for. Though it had been 7 years since he had been sleep. It only felt like one night to him. The villagers tended to him over the years some thought he would never wake up. Others had faith in him. When he woke up he grabbed the flyer and immediately left to go to the inn. when he arrived there he gave the tendent the flyer. The tendant gave him a key and said room 10.....
Description: Before the transformation he was bald with a all white tunic with and a tribal dragon design. After he killed the dragon he took the skin and carved a dragon design into it. Afterward he took the dragon's skin and made it into a tunic, armguards, and shinguards in memory of his parents and fellow Monk brotheren. He then he took it to a mage to get it enchanted so that only he could wear it. When he awoke from his coma his hair was dark red and down to his back. His eyes were black before the coma and afterward they were red and gold. He also had tribal dragon tattoo on his neck the wrapped around his entire torso.
Room Number: 9
Name:Billy Lacroix
Age:22
Nationality: The Fingers
Race: Human
Mutation: WereGator
Description:
Background: Billy lived with his family down in the darkest swamps of the Fingers. He had a large extended family and all the lore of the swamps was theirs. They were insular but managed to make enemies regardless. The Lord of the Land and his entourage no less. A Brutal guerilla war took place. The Lacroix knew the swamps better than anyone of course and many an elf got lost in the muck searching for their foe, never to be heard from again. The resources of the Lord were greater however and in time he took drastic measures. The elves called upon their own powers and turned the very wildlife against the Lacroix family. Massive hunting cats, swamp pumas were captured and trained to hunt the humans. And in time, slowly but surely the Lacroix were hunter down. Billy's family was dwindling fast and he knew he had to take drastic steps.
How you were made: Billy Lacroix went to see Mary Big Money Bones, The Swamp Witch. He entreated her for help. She told him she'd help, but the price would be steep, his own humanity. Nothing would stop Billy from his vengeance. He readily agreed and she sent him on his way, with the promise that his help would arrive. As Billy left the Swamp Witch's hut and made his way through the bayou he was attacked. A massive gator, bigger than any he'd seen burst from the water. Billy fought like a mad man but the gator's bite was fierce. Amazingly enough after taking a taste of the young man, it left him, alone and bleeding in the swamps. For days he wandered through the bayou ,feverish. Finally, the change was upon him. After it happened. He knew the Witch had made good on her promise. He hunted the elves, and he hunted the big cats. It ws all he could do, by the time he made it back home after his change, The Lacroix had been all but wiped out.
He was a good hunter and the Lord of the Land himself grew nervous that some night a giant gator would come out of the darkness for him. Bigger prey awaited Billy though. He found the lair of a massive puma, it was wild and hungry. Worse still it was as wily as any human. It escaped him and in his tracking he lost it's scent. For many nights the swamps echoed with the enraged sound of a Bull gator. Then he found a scent. It wasn't the same Puma but it was familiar. He tracked it out of the swamplands and eventually out of the Fingers entirely. Across the empty forgotten plains of Carolain and all the way into Andoria. It wasn't long before the young swamp man found his way to the Bad Moon Inn.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *
Billy pushed open the door to the inn and looked around. He sniffed the air for a moment and his eyes grew wide.
"Mizz Temple?" his voice was barely a whisper, he didn't want to give himself away. Not after all this time, tracking his quarry half way across the world. Now to find it was a pretty young thing he used to see every now and again in the swamps. A Human and NOT an elf? Well at least there WAS an elf here, that would make his vengeance possible. He certainly wasn't gonna after Inez, at least not until he was sure she had help kill some of his family. Well, no time like the present to make yourself visible.
The man strode to the bar, slamming his fist down on it.
"Hey there, Brer Gnome. I don't spose y'all have any moonshine 'ehind the counter? Naw? Ah well gimme a beer den why doncha, fren. Dat's gonna hit the spot, lemme tell you. It has been a LONG walk from way down southways. Lemme ask you somet'in fren. What's goin on round yere parts? Anything worth doin?"
Ultimus woke up after one refreshing night at the Inn. The question never left his mind. What was this place? He went down in the stairs to the reception seeing a crowd of people. At the Inn felt a sense of sercurity something he hadn't felt in years. Though at the same time he felt a serious killing intent deep within the Inn. He put that feeling aside to try to get some answers as to what the place was and why he was called there. So he began to walk up to the crowd of people.
" Can someone tell me what this place is?"
“Oh, *hic* ... no.” Keke grimaced into her goblet of wine. Her empty goblet that once held wine, that is. Had she actually drank it? Oh, dear. Her elven metabolism still left her quite vulnerable to the effect of alcoholic beverages. Fluids were the only thing she could safely consume, since her death and subsequent rebirth as a Child of the Night.
Safely being a relative term, in her case.
“I... *hic*” She covered her mouth with her hands. Muffled, she said, “Oh no. No no nononono.”
Risk watched her with growing amusement, and that just wouldn't do. Did he know about the elven weakness to alcohol? Should she abandon all dignity and retreat to her room until the effects had passed? Of course not! She had never retreated in her life! “*Hic!*”
Just then, a man said, "Can someone tell me what this place is?"
“And I thought I was supposed to be the drunk one.” She giggled and nearly fell off her stool at the bar, barely catching herself and holding on to the seat with both hands. “This is *hic* the common room of an inn. It's like a pub or a *hic* tavern except there are rooms to let above the premises. People live here, some are just passing through, others live here while some are just passing through. And also some people live here, as well.” Was she talking in circles or only thinking in circles? “And this one specializes in... ahem... *hic*.” What had she been saying? “Ooh. Shiny...”
Blinking rapidly, Keke remembered what she had been saying, “Oh... Umm... Specializes in... *hic* those who are lunarly challenged and umm... fanged. That is, those who turn furry once a month and those who are bound to the night.” She widened her eyes dramatically, and nearly fell off the stool again. “Which are you?”
“Oh!” She said, as though she had just remembered something. Clapping her hands, she said, “Ohh!!!”
She giggled so that she did slip off her stool. Clambering up in a way that made her petite height of 5'1 overly apparent, she managed to sit atop her perch once more. Still giggling, she pointed at Anansi, “You!”
She paused before continuing, taken in a fit of laughter. “You wanted *hic* stories. Have I got a doosy! Ahahaha *hic* hahha aaha *hic*
“This one time, about, I don't know. A long time ago... *hic* I knew this guy. And I was also married to him.” She held up her ring finger dramatically and tried to point to the blank spot where a ring should be but missed pointing at her hand entirely. “But then I wasn't. Wait.” She waved her hands about the air.
“That isn't the story, that's a side story. It's not very relevant. Wait. What was I saying? *hic* It was a long time ago... And I was also married to him. But there was this girl who I was teaching the sword to, and I didn't like her but I liked her father. Hah. Ahahaaa! Ha! *hic* and umm... Right. The sword,” She gestured to the sword sheathed at her hip. “She wasn't very good. I didn't like her very well, but her father.”
Keke nodded knowingly and wiggled her eyebrows. Which made her dizzy, so dizzy in fact that she nearly fell over again. “We were campaigning, there must have been a war. Was there a war? Oh. Yes. The Jotnar were coming down from the mountains and there wasn't much time and I had lost a bet and I had to show her the sword or... Or... And her father... *hic* Oh, her father.”
She broke off and started humming not very tunefully, staring off into the distance and fiddling with her earlobe. “What had I been saying? Oh, right... Her father... No wait, the girl! The bet! *hic* What was her name? Did I say? Who cares! I was teaching her the sword! *hic* We were going through the elven swordmaster steps, time and again. She wasn't very skilled... But her father... I keep getting distracted by him and he is certainly long since dead. How very rare.
“What was I saying? The steps of the sword. I even taught her the Flame and the Void which she was not very good at, not at all.” Keke blinked. “Anyway, The Heron Wades Through the Rushes.”
Standing, Keke drew her Nimcha and dagger, balancing on the ball of one foot, she held both swords crossed over her head so that they formed a cross. “The Heron!”
The air crackled with electricity and the swords flew from her hands to smash into the wall. Sparks flew from them as they slid down to rest on the floor behind the bar. The gnome barkeep shouted, “No fighting on my premises!”
“I wasn't fighting, I was *hic* demonstrating! Something...” Keke shouted back. “But I don't *hic* remember what.”
She slumped down on her stool, rubbing her forehead with one hand and thinking far too hard. “Oh! I remember! The Heron. The girl said, 'I don't think I could see someone using that and not be obliged to stick my sword through their *hic* middle, it leaves them right open.' and I said, 'It's just for practice *hic* and gaining balance!' and it is. But then when we were dueling later, after her feather was killed... Feather? No. Father. What have feathers to do with anything? Her father was killed. It was quite tragic because he was so pretty... Did I tell you about him? I must have. Did I? Of course.
“Anyway, she insisted on dueling me. *hic* Her teacher! *hic* And I slid into that stance, why did I? I must have been feeling... Something. How uncomfortable. Oh I do hate having feelings. Guilt. It must have been that, or something else entirely. But I was having feelings. *hic* Blah.”
Grimacing into her cup, she tried to take a drink before remembering it was empty. “Another one of these, if you will, my *hic* good man.” Pointing to her cup, she gestured to the barkeep. “Where are my swords? I could have *hic* sworn they were right here in my sheaths just a moment ago.”
“The Heron.” Keke nodded seriously, “She did it, too. She stuck her little *hic* sword right through my middle, and she must have known about me. Or at least suspected... Because her sword was silvered. Most people who suspect don't really believe. Baldr's blazes, most people who know don't believe. But she did, and her sword was silvered. She stuck it right through my middle like she said she would.”
Untucking her shirt from her pants she lifted it far enough to show a long jagged scar across her stomach, just under her ribs. “That's why gambling is wrong. That's the moral of the story, don't gamble. And don't get married. And don't get feathers in your bed. Or fathers. It's always a mess.”
...damn?
The door of Room 1 banged open a few metres away from where he sat. From where he was sitting. From where he would continue sitting, for the next couple of minutes anyway. A sad looking, ratty grey broom intruded into his line of vision, being roughly used to sweep up the gathering carpet of dust that had settled and made home on the ground. The broomhead was being banged around roughly, scraping against the wooden flooring and achieving dents all over the cheap plastic that held the broom fibres. Poor broom. He knew how it felt to be that way. He pitied it.
The clattering continued, followed by gnomish muttering. "Buncha visitors pop outta nowhere, inn's being bustling like a crow caught in a bushfire. More cleaning to do once this bunch gets out of the way. God, I hate cleaning." All of a sudden, the clatter of broomhead against cheap wood stopped, to be replaced by a dull thud of it hitting something soft instead. Robespierre paused for a sec, inches away from the shadow cast by the cupboard. He peered more closely.
"God, please don't say the previous guest left another bunch of useless junk here again. God, how I hate junk. Now I'll have to lug it down and out again, more killing work for my poor back. God, this sucks. It'll never be anything of value that I can sell off for a bit of gold. Wait, what's this...?"
As he looked more closely at the dark lump piled against the corner, cast in shadow, it spoke.
"Don't use the gods' names in this way. They won't like it." it said quietly.
The chatter downstairs in the pub was immediately wiped out by a loud yell from the second storey. As everyone raised their heads in the direction of the stairs, their efforts were rewarded by the sight of something big and black being flung bodily down the stairs by a white faced, trembling Robespierre.
"A GHOST!" the gnome screamed in fear.
And as the black figure splattered on the ground at the feet of the guests below, he did not flinch the slightest. Face still planted against the floor, all he did was mutter.
"And make that the hundredth and thirteenth time." said the Joker darkly.
Anansi took stock of what was happening now. In a matter of moments it appeared Camilla had managed to drink herself into a stupod, One of Inez's Country Cousins had bumbled in to buy a beer, some sort of runaway monk with amnesia had staggered onto the stage and now a member of the Black Circus had tumbled down the stairs to face plant. It was all...amusing, in it's own way, but something troubled the man.
"Camilla...as much as I enjoy you making a spectacle of yourself, don't you think we need to be preparing to assault the Jotnar? If you desire, I can draw the drink from you, or at least the intoxication."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*
Billy tried to listen as the Gnome explained the Goblin Hunt. He nodded absentmindedly and signed an X on the paper. He was too distracted by all the strange goings on. He needed to find out why Inez had the scent about her.
Her shirt still partially untucked, Keke stood and flourished her sword. At least, she tried to brandish a sword. As her weapons still clung to the wall behind the bar, she flourished an empty hand, dramatically shouting, “To arms, men!”
Clutching her middle, she giggled helplessly and stumbled her way to the door that lead to the stables. “To horse! Where is my horse? My kingdom for a horse!
“Hold on a minute,” she paused at the door and turned back to Anansi. “What was that you were saying about something... about something?” She grinned lopsidedly and sheathed her imaginary sword. “How would that be done exactly? As we elves like to say, I'm all ears.”
---
Inez eyed the new comer as he signed up for the quest. How strange that he should wear the clothes of her homeland. He was the first person from the swamps she had seen since leaving. Why was he there?
Chewing her lip nervously, Inez watched him closely. Normally she would have rushed right over and made him feel welcome, but the man was radiating hostility. His aura was definitely dark, and he had the scent of a shifter about him to boot. She had never met another shifter besides the one who made her before that very night, and his was not the same. It was... different. Colder. Musky, like swamp water... What was he? A snake? She giggled and folded her hands behind her back. Time would tell, or it wouldn't. She had all the patience in the world.
Anansi studied the girl's face.
"I am not sure that you would take me up on the offer. I could do it a number of ways. The quickest and easiest, I do not think you would like. It would require a small bite. I would draw the intoxication into myself. It is also the safest. I could use Necromancy, but simple healing and doing specific bodily alterations are two different things. It is not always an exact science and the collision of Order and Chaos can make for dangerous and unpredictable results some times."
He looked around, "It's up to you. In the meantime, I suggest anyone planning to go after the Jotnar, get your gear ready. We will move out when this...situation is remedied, one way or the other."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Billy looked up. Well that was certainly fast. He didn't exactly have much Gear to speak of. Still a job was a job, and he had taken the job, even if he really hadn't been terribly serious about it.
It was something else to focus on, other than blind vengeance, and he let the anger roll off him as he steeled himself for the hunt. He gave a cordial nod to Inez, wondering why the girl hadn't spoken, then again he hadn't spoken himself. He looked the group over. The monk looked like he'd be a calm sort, and those were usually good in a tight spot. He moved toward, Ultimus.
"Hey, Brer, How ya doin? Ya guine to hunt Monksters with the rest of us? Looks like a good a evenin as enny for it, yeah? They call me Billy down bouts where Ah live. You got a name?"
Did he understand what he was asking? Feeding from a vampire was a very intimate act... Shared only between close Brood members or loved ones. The only other to feed from her had been Daerid, her maker, and Freyr, the font of her Bloodline.
*hic*
Still, if it was the only way... The Jotnar did have to be dealt with in a timely manner. If they were Jotnar. Which she doubted. Highly.
*hic*
Her poor brain was swimming in circles and her deductive reasoning had taken a serious blow.
“I will leave this to your... *hic* ...best discretion.”
After sharing blood, occasionally the recipient could detect certain emotions or even more rarely, thoughts. But... If she regretted her action later, she could always kill him.
Keke brushed her hair to the side and turned her back to Anansi. She had found that to be the most comfortable (and least intimate) way to feed. There was something too loverlike about hugging and biting one's neck. As she touched her hair, she remembered the ribbons.
---
Inez smiled shyly at her new swampland friend. She waved, barely wiggling her fingers.
“Hi.” She said conversationally. “I'm Inez Temple, from the Fingers. Looks like you come from there too.”
---
Risk watched the whole show with a frown and crossed arms. This was a waste of time. The moon was tugging at him, and he wanted to hunt. If not in his true form then in... True form? Where had that thought come from? Since when was the Wolf his true form?
“Tuck the little girl in her bed and let her sleep it off. Elves.” He snorted. “Never can handle their liquor.”
As he smirked in Keke's general direction, he watched her change. Or rather, he didn't, and that was the odd part. One moment her head was covered in ribbons and bows, and the next it wasn't. That was all. They were just gone.
He goggled. That was the only way to describe it.
Anansi moved up behind Camilla now. He brought his mouth low to the back of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Then his fangs...uncoiled more than anything else. a set of pedilaps emerged from the sides of his mouth, the tips glistening with green venom for a moment. Then the venom seemed to disappear, sucked into the fangs. Then the bite. It would feel oddly relaxing to the girl at first. The Spinner of Tales' fangs were coated in a sort of anesthetic. Then there was the ecstacy as her blood flowed through her neck and into his mouth. It lasted less than a moment. Anansi wasn't intending for this to be any sort of social...event. In fact though blood was drawn, it was truly the toxins in her body that were drained away from her and into him. As much as part of him lusted after tales, another still lusted for toxins. That was the reason he drank enough alchohol to send an elephant into a coma. He tried to ignore the emotions and thoughts that flowed into him through her, to file them away for another time.
And then it was over. He drew back, fangs safely secure within the pockets of his cheeks once again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"There, you should feel better now."
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Yeah Mizz Temple, Ah know ya from way back. You'd come around ever once in a while and trade wit' me and mah fambly. Ah'm Billy Lacroix, but Ah guess you forgot that. It's okay though, time's is strange for everbuddy. Have ya met mah new friend?" He glanced toward Ultimus.
Keke blinked and looked around. She could sense Anansi, a bit. Not enough to find him if she had to, but enough to know he was there once he got close enough. Even that dim awareness seemed to bleep in and out of notice. Like a fly that buzzed at your ear, then flew away before you had time to bat at it, the annoyance was not very strong. Not yet, anyway. It took three mutual feedings to give the constant pestering realization of another's existence any real strength, which would very likely never occur. Or so she told herself, fervently.
It was a double edged sword, if she could feel that slight wave of satisfaction coming from the spider, then he could feel her growing frustration at her own stupidity. How could she have been so dense? This wasn't the first time she had screwed up while taken with alcohol, or even the worst. But it was the most recent. It gave her a strong distaste for the stuff in general, but when in the commonroom of an inn, one needed to blend. A cup in hand usually served that function, and she could not believe she had lost herself enough to actually drink the vile wine.
The corners of her mouth tugged down in a slight frown as she stomped toward the side exit leading to the stables. She snapped at a stablehand to saddle Ciaran and waited impatiently as it was done. Poking her head back into the inn, she shouted, “If you are coming, let's go. We are burning moonlight. The sun will be up before you know it.”
Without waiting for a response she swung into the saddle of the large, black warhorse and nudged him into a slow plodding walk. The small party moved through the town, northward toward the mountains. At the outskirts they continued north through scrub pine forest, along a thin wagon trail that didn't seem much used. After a time the pine trees thinned to patchy farm land, spreading over the foothills like a quilt.
After about a half an hour of travel they came upon the farm in question. It looked abandoned and not much used. Heavy winter curtains still hung in the window, and it was far into spring. The farm tools leaned against the barn had several months worth of rust forming on their blades.
“This seems to be the place.” Keke said, sliding down from her horse and tying him to a fence post.
(I don't have much time, will post more later. Just threw this together in a few minutes time. Sorry)
"Where is everybody?" asked Isha, looking at the farm.
Anansi glanced at Isha.
"Well, it reminds me very much of an old ghost story actually -"
Billy raised a hand to cut him off.
"Ya know, Brer, I dun EVEN wanna here dat. Probably be like de story of de Wuller de Wurst! ennyhows... I tink I can track sometin round here. De hackles on mah neck're raised and I got a sneakin' feelin some of y'all can feel somethin'"
The swampman knelt near the ground, running his fingers along the mud.
"YEah, look richere... dere's some tracks and dey ain't human nor animal. Bettin dat's yo're goblins. Dey lead down off dat ways." He pointed off in the distance toward a stand of trees with a rocky outcropping jutting up from among them.
Keke took a step toward the farm house. Her nostrils flared, “Do you smell that?”
“Of course.” Said Risk. “Blood. Old blood.”
The place was rank with it. The closer they drew to the house the worse it stank. Waving her hand, Keke shewed away Lucifer's own weight in flies from the door. They caked the surface, sleeping for the night. Twisting the knob, she found it locked.
“Allow me.” Risk said, taking the great ax from the leather loop from which it hung on his hip. Hefting it over his head, he swung it toward the door in a mighty arc, shattering the door frame. He swung the ax at the door over and over, until it hung crookedly from it's hinges, little more than a mass of splinters.
Stepping inside, Keke gasped and clutched her head. “The imprint. It's awful.”
It didn't take a psychic imprint to tell Risk that something awful had happened recently in the house. Blood had dried on the walls, ceiling and floor. Stew was spilled into the fire, and the kettle lay on its side near the hearth.
“Seems as though something interrupted supper preparations.” Risk observed. “Still, all that blood and no bodies. Where they at, ya reckon?”
The war had given him a strong stomach, and he soldiered on. He marched through the kitchen and up the narrow stairway at the back leaving the little elf to nurse her head. Imprints, indeed. Heh.
"It doesn't take a coroner to realize this thread is dead." muttered Keke.
So as the sun rose resplendently in the eastern sky, Keke found herself peering out the back window of the small house. Across the meadow she could see two men crest the hill and stand haloed by the sun.
“Who's that, I wonder?” She said to no one in particular as she stepped out the back door and onto the lawn.
As the two approached, Keke was blinded by the sun and unable to make our their appearance.
“Hail, good woman!” shouted one, as the other laughed maniacally. “Who might you be and why are you in my house?”
“Oh.” Keke said, flustered. “I was informed there was a disturbance in this area and assumed yours was the home in question.”
“No! Quite the contrary!”
“Well, I do apologize. How awkward.” She said, blushing slightly.
“No harm done! I am The Joker and this is The Riddler.” Said the one, making introductions. “Have you ever danced with the devil beneath the pale moon light?”
“Umm... No?” Keke replied.
“Well, riddle me this, riddle me that! Who is afraid of the big, black bat?” Said The Riddler.
“Umm... I don't know?”
Just then, to her left, Keke noticed a vat of yellow jello and inside tied up quite naked and pretty sat Inez. She shouted, “Help me!”
“Good lord! What happened?!”
“IDK! This is so fucking weird!” Screamed Inez, more than a bit franticly.
“I'll help you!” Keke shrieked, running toward the jello vat.
“Wait!' Inez said, her voice high with panic. “This is no ordinary yellow jello! It's homo-erotic jello, if you enter, we will start going at it like bunnies!”
“O rly?” Keke said, her interest piqued.
“Ya rly!”
“Ding dang. I'll have to think about this for a minute.” And she proceeded to do just that. She tapped her chin and bit her bottom lip, her forehead creased with worry. But then, “Ah-ha!”
“You have it?”
“By jove, I think I do!”
“K. Hurry.” said Inez.
Keke walked over and grabbed The Joker and The Riddler by the collar and threw them into the vat of yellow homo-erotic jello!
“OMFG!” Shouted Inez, as she was jostled aside. Immediately the two men stripped down and started like totally going at it.
Keke watched with interest for several minutes, until she figured one or the other was near to finish. Then she pull them out by their hair and sent them on their way.
“Wait, dude, no fair!” Shouted The Joker.
“That's your punishment for being impertinent. I'm a vampire bitchez!”
“Dude... Wait, what?” Said The Riddler, yellow jello still dripping from his nude body in the early morning sunlight.
“Blue balls.” She said with satisfaction.
“Way harsh!” Said The Riddler AND The Joker at the same exact time.
“I know, right. Now get gone!” She pointed toward the rising sun, and they both limped away into the dawn with their sore anuses.
“Keke! What have you done!? They didn't have anything to do with this. The Spider tied me up and placed me here, in this vat of yellow homo-erotic jello. He set up a video camera upstairs and plans to record us going at it! This had nothing to do with whomever they were. Poor fellows!”
“Spiderman? Well, why didn't you say so earlier? How awkward!”
“Awkward? You call this awkward? Here I sit in nothing but my hello kitty unders and you call it awkward?” Inez shouted incredulously.
“Let me see if I can untie you without getting any jello on me.”
“You do that!” Inez said, in a huff. It was terribly hard to sulk while sitting knee deep in a vat of homo-erotic yellow jello, but she endeavored to do so.
As she leaned over the jello, Keke slipped and fell inside! “Oh dear!”
“Oh man! I guess this means we have to totally scissor and stuff!”
“OMFG!” Shouted Keke, as she tore her clothing off.
“Understatement!”
But then, Inez slipped and hit her head on a giant black dildo, rendering her unconscious. “OMG we were just getting started!”
The author poked her head in, “Is anyone reading this? Really? Amazing! This is wanton and gratuitous homosexuality, no? Perhaps we should move on to the violence? What do you think, Keke?”
“You were starting to sound like Anne Rice and Laurell K. Hamilton there for a minute!” Said Keke. “I'm up for a random fight scene.”
“Okay!”
So an ogre appeared out of no where and Keke climbed out of the vat of yellow homo-erotic jello to battle it. Unfortunately, her clothing was ripped beyond repair and all she had on was a hot pink thong. She grabbed her swords from where they lay on the ground and leapt into battle.
She sparred with the ogre, giving as good as she got. Swords clashed, sparks flew. It was like totally awesome.
Just as she thought she was about to win and stuff, the ogre picked her up in it's great big ol blue hand and said, “Youz pretty!”
“I know right. I'm an elven princess, it's practically a prerequisite that I be unearthly lovely.” Keke said, her tilted emerald green eyes crinkling at the corners in her amusement.
“But don't you think it's cliché?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, the pretty elven princess character.”
“Huh?”
“And a dumb blond? Really? Well, aren't we original.”
“Uhh... I'm the smart one! Inez is the dumb blond.”
“Two dumb blond characters? Srsly?”
“Ya rly!”
“And internet memes!?”
“I love lamp!”
“All your base are belong to me!!!” Bellowed the ogre, as he totally squished Keke.
The End.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away...
"I told you this wasn't Ireland!" shouted the captain.
"Yeah yeah..." replied Ervan.
*sigh*
Did somebody say REVIVAL?
Originally Posted by kyne
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