Chapter 8 part 2
As could be expected, I decided to go home from work early. I tried to relax, but my heart felt ready to burst from worry. I leaped out the window of my office, and was flying toward my building-when I realized that I had forgotten Calla. It's hard to do an about-face in midair, but somehow I managed it. I saw Calla standing at the window. Our eyes met, and I heard her thoughts say, Go. I'll catch up. Sending a wave of gratitude in reply, I turned back, and zoomed to Xen's apartment window. The blinds were closed; I couldn't see if she was there or not. I banged frantically on the glass, praying she would come. No answer. Hoping she would forgive me for this, I jumped off the ledge, flew backward a bit, and then went full-speed towards the glass.
Once again, CRASH!!
I was starting to make a habit out of smashing through windows. That part of my brain that thinks really weird things at inopportune moments wondered if someone would start paying me for it. Recovering, and brushing glass out of my hair, I leaped to my feet- and saw Xen, spinning around to face me, something in her hand. As soon as she saw who it was, relief covered her visage, and, dropping whatever it was onto the table, she sagged limply against her easel, which was set up nearby. Before I could go to her, the door to her apartment burst open, and in came Calla, gasping for breath. When she saw Xen was still there, she sighed with the same amount of relief as my technically-not-girlfriend was exhibiting.
"You're still here! We're early enough that maybe-"
"Actually, you're late," said Xen calmly. We gaped at her; finally, she said, "The shadow was here, but he didn't get me."
"Why not?"
She gestured wordlessly to the object on the table, which I finally recognized as her palette knife. It was coated in a red, sticky substance that was definitely not paint.
"I told you I'd have it handy. He got away before I could bite him, but not before I'd dealt a few good blows. I'm not about to let myself get kidnapped again."
I finally crossed the room to Xen, and wrapped my arms tightly around her. Now I knew she was scared, possibly in shock, even though she was trying to put up a brave front for my and Calla’s sakes; I could feel her body trembling as she clung to me, and smell her convulsive sweat (which is not as gross as you might think; it reminds me of aloe vera).
"Good for you," I said softly.
"Was it-fatal?" asked Calla, gingerly examining the knife.
"I doubt it. I think I only got the shadow in the shoulder, and the arm. But I can tell you this. It wasn't Jessup."
I pulled back a little, and looked her in the eyes with a frown.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'd have recognized his smell. This smell...it was of a human being, or at least something mostly human. Male mage, I'd say."
I thought about this. It did not connect with the previous information I had collected. Obviously, there was still a missing piece to this puzzle.
"I don't understand," Calla suddenly said.
"What?"
"One of my visions...it didn't come true. They always come true!"
"And yours did," said Xen with a shaky smile.
Calla turned to her.
"But I saw you get kidnapped!"
"No, what you saw was the shadow appearing and grabbing me while I was painting, correct?" Calla nodded. "Your vision just missed the part where I whirled around, knife in hand, and stabbed him. You then automatically jumped to the conclusion that I would let myself be taken easily."
The kid looked down at the floor, her eyes misting a little, and immediately Xen went to her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, that sounded mean. It was an easy conclusion to make. Besides, maybe the fact that you told us made it possible for me to not be captured."
Calla looked a bit hurt still, but smiled tentatively.
That night, Xen stayed at my place, because we'd had to report the illegal entry to the police, and after the cops had searched the apartment for any information, in the unlikely event that I wouldn't be able to find it, she was feeling a little overwhelmed, and didn't want to have to stay there by herself. Besides, I had no intention of letting her out of my sight, now that the shadow had tried to get her. Maybe he would try to get revenge, and even though she'd proven to be capable of handling herself, I wanted to be able to help protect her should the need arise. It was the second time she'd been up almost all day, so she was exhausted. At the same time, however, she was afraid to go to sleep; I could tell. She was lying on the couch, while I tried to make myself comfortable on the floor. But for a long while, I could see the lavender glow of her eyes in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, I said aloud, "Can't sleep, huh?"
"Not really. The memory of what happened keeps playing over and over every time I close my eyes, and I don't-"
She cut herself off; a quiet sob, which she tried and failed to suppress, resounded in her throat. I got up, and gently lifting her out of the way, sat down on the couch. Xen sat up next to me, and leaned into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her. She cried for a long, long time. I said nothing, just sat and took my turn to be the one offering emotional support. By the time her last bits of hysteria had subsided, that part of my shirt was thoroughly soaked. Noticing, she whispered, scrubbing at her eyes, "Sorry about your shirt."
"It doesn't matter," I replied. I took her face in my hands, and kissed each tear away. Finally, I kissed her mouth (which had a slight flavor of salt). That definitely seemed to help.
Xen fell asleep with her head in my lap, and soon after, I dozed off too.
Showing posts with label fight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fight. Show all posts
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
TANSTAV part 13
Chapter 4 part 3
After I brought him my (soon-to-be) friend Larry, Doctor Higgins had told me to come back if I ever needed his help again, because he “finds my psyche an interesting study.” I'm not sure rather to be flattered or insulted, since I personally find Higgins to be a little creepy. But just for argument's sake, I try to be flattered.
The thing is, Archibald Higgins is a very hard person to like. His mother was a mage, but his father was a (extraordinarily oblivious) human. Higgins's abilities are comparatively mundane, just being able to move things without touching them, minor intuition, and limited mind-reading, the latter of which helps him in his job as a shrink. Not that any of that has to do with my disliking of the man. It's just that I can't stand how he views everyone other than himself as a lab specimen, something to be studied. When he's around people, he scrawls down everything you say, and he watches every move you make, and you just know he's trying to listen in to your thoughts, and identify your personality, upbringing, level of sanity, and I don't know what-all. But, if he could help Calla, I was willing to endure a bit of his staring and brain-picking for three weeks or so. After all, he's been a big help to Larry.
Larry is an interesting study. He's a werewolf, with depression, and who came from the past. That sounds kind of complicated, so let me go back a bit. At the beginning of the 1900s, he was in his early 30s, and had gone to join his father in his ancestral home in a small corner of Wales. I don't know whether the werewolf who bit him there one night was human at the time, or had only morphed halfway, or what, but whatever it was, he obviously didn't do it right. Larry couldn't morph all the way. Instead, during the full moon he turned into this weird, biped, hairy creature, not completely wolf or human. And with absolutely zero self-control. He terrorized his village, without meaning to, for about 4 months, since nobody could figure out what the heck was going on. I mean, they found tracks and stuff, but nobody could find the wolf. Then they realized it only showed up during the full moon, put two and two together (at least, as much as they were capable, since they didn't know the full story), and decided to go out during the next full moon and kill the monster. Larry was asked to be part of the hunting party. By now, he was a nervous wreck; he'd figured out what he was, and felt absolutely horrible about the innocent people he had hurt and/or killed. He had come to think of himself as a monster. Well, yes, he is; but he saw that as a bad thing. Anyway, he'd decided that the only way his soul could be saved would be for the hunters to kill him, so he intentionally separated from the others, transformed when the moon rose, and came after them, as he’d known he would. His own father had raised his gun (filled with silver bullets; it’s incredible what kind of crazy additions to myths you humans think up) and was about to shoot- when the wolf man suddenly vanished, mid-leap.
Meanwhile, on the same night, only 70 years in the future, some teenage mages were fooling around in the town cemetery, doing conjuring spells, since it was the full moon (Supposedly it's the best time for magic, when a mages powers will be at their height; personally I think I’ll believe it when I see it). And, it figured that by accident they would summon Larry. He appeared, sprawled across the coffin they'd been chanting around, snarling and growling. Terrified, the teens ran away; thankfully he was too dazed to chase after them. The next morning, having changed back into a human, he managed to get out of the cemetery and wander into the main part of town, begging anybody who came within his line of vision to kill him, and thus end the curse. That, in fact, is how we met. I was out on an investigation with Morty (this was before he became lieutenant), and Ishida gave us a call, asking us to take a break and bring in some lunatic who was causing a disturbance near the corner of Karloff and Hitchcock. So, we went and picked him up.
The moment I saw Larry, I knew he was in shock. His pupils were extremely dilated, and he staggered down the road, staring with unfocused eyes at the passing monsters. He had this awful, pained expression on his face. When he saw us, he said in a ragged voice, "Hello. Will you kill me?" He didn't even notice that we weren't exactly human, he was so far gone. Needless to say, after bringing him to the station, we searched the yellow pages for the first available psychiatrist, who happened to be Doc Higgins. And now, after almost a year of therapy, a weekly meeting with Lycanthropes Anonymous, and a special spell that helped him turn into a complete wolf every full moon, Larry seems to have adjusted to his new life. It has done him a world of good to know that he's not the only one of his kind, and that he can go through life as a werewolf without killing, or even maiming, anybody. He has a job, and a home, and even the possibility of a family in the future. He still has that tortured, agonized facial expression every once in a while, but I think that's become second nature for Larry.
Higgins lives in the middle of Elm Street, in an ancient house called The Nightmare. I don't know who came up with the idea of giving old houses names, but it's a weird one. Higgins uses The Nightmare as his office; his patients go there for appointments, so that he never has to go out, unless they schedule it as a house call. It's funny, but his house is the only one on his block that actually looks like the sort of place a monster would inhabit, and he's the only one in his neighborhood who doesn’t look at all like a monster. Everyone else has these normal-looking, modern houses, and he has this big, fancy, kind of dilapidated mansion. I wonder if he does it just to be eccentric.
It was pouring rain, and that makes for very bad flying weather, so I had to walk. I strolled down the street, lost in thought, hands in pockets. Unfortunately, my mind was so focused on the case, and its detestable suspect, that I was not paying strict attention to where I was going. Suddenly, I was hit from the front by something both small and fragile. I stepped back in surprise, and beheld a young woman, dressed in jeans, a jacket, and a T-shirt with the initials H.N.M. on it, holding a collecting tin in hand. I could see, just by observing her, that she was a hybrid Light Fae, that one of her parents had been disinherited (probably following their marriage), that she worked for a monster welfare program, and that she spent some of her time gardening. How did I know, you may ask? The first part, about her being a hybrid fae, came from her eyes. The right one was a luminous green, but the left was silver. When two different species of fae marry and have children, the children have bicolored eyes, based off what their parents are (I guess it’s because the two differing genetic materials split them, or something). Hers had been a Floran and a T'sa, respectively. And, since the T'sai are by nature mostly snobs, and discourage their offspring from associating with other species, let alone marrying them, her T'sa parent had most definitely been disowned. Also, she was generating a bit of sunlight to keep herself warm, a skill basically only possessed by Flori. The initials on her shirt stood for Help Needy Monsters, an organization that had come into being recently in Styxburg, and gives help to the tired, poor, homeless masses yearning to have a place in the monster world. H.N.M. also defends interbreeding between species, protesting against segregation and bigotry that show up every once in a while. As for the gardening, her hands were kind of tough and callused on the palms and insides of the fingers, especially on her right hand, meaning she had spent time doing manual labor. Since Flori are talented in working with plants, that could only mean work gardening.
"Sorry," I muttered, trying to push past. To my surprise and annoyance, she stepped back into my way, brandished the collecting tin, and asked, "Are you aware that every day, hundreds of monsters starve in the streets, and thousands more are shunned because they are not pure-blooded monsters, or because they are not humans?"
"Well, yes, actually, I am. Now, if you'll excuse me..." I tried to squirm past, but she was persistent.
"Your contribution could help to feed just one of the homeless for a month, or help us to pass a law against discrimination on account of species! Only twenty dollars could-"
"Sorry," I interrupted through gritted teeth, "but I can't help you right now." With that, I bent my knees, and jumped right over her. I landed gracefully on my feet, and began to walk away. Don't get me wrong, I'm for justice and everyone having a home as much as the next monster. But I hadn't got any money on me, and I hate donating to charities. They annoy me, especially the overly zealous ones. The girl, obviously not believing I had nothing to offer her, stormed after me, demanding, "Have you no pity? While you sit in your comfortable home, eating 3 square meals a day and using hot running water, tens of thousands of poor, lost souls roam the streets crying out for the most basic necessities! They-"
That did it. My dander was already up on account of the case, and all the stress I'd been experiencing today. This girl made it worse. I snapped.
Whirling around, I snarled at her, "Look, lady! I've got my own problems right now; I don't need anyone else's! And furthermore, you have no right to judge me! Now LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
The girl stepped back in shock, looking as though I had slapped her. Without another word, I stormed on my way.
After I brought him my (soon-to-be) friend Larry, Doctor Higgins had told me to come back if I ever needed his help again, because he “finds my psyche an interesting study.” I'm not sure rather to be flattered or insulted, since I personally find Higgins to be a little creepy. But just for argument's sake, I try to be flattered.
The thing is, Archibald Higgins is a very hard person to like. His mother was a mage, but his father was a (extraordinarily oblivious) human. Higgins's abilities are comparatively mundane, just being able to move things without touching them, minor intuition, and limited mind-reading, the latter of which helps him in his job as a shrink. Not that any of that has to do with my disliking of the man. It's just that I can't stand how he views everyone other than himself as a lab specimen, something to be studied. When he's around people, he scrawls down everything you say, and he watches every move you make, and you just know he's trying to listen in to your thoughts, and identify your personality, upbringing, level of sanity, and I don't know what-all. But, if he could help Calla, I was willing to endure a bit of his staring and brain-picking for three weeks or so. After all, he's been a big help to Larry.
Larry is an interesting study. He's a werewolf, with depression, and who came from the past. That sounds kind of complicated, so let me go back a bit. At the beginning of the 1900s, he was in his early 30s, and had gone to join his father in his ancestral home in a small corner of Wales. I don't know whether the werewolf who bit him there one night was human at the time, or had only morphed halfway, or what, but whatever it was, he obviously didn't do it right. Larry couldn't morph all the way. Instead, during the full moon he turned into this weird, biped, hairy creature, not completely wolf or human. And with absolutely zero self-control. He terrorized his village, without meaning to, for about 4 months, since nobody could figure out what the heck was going on. I mean, they found tracks and stuff, but nobody could find the wolf. Then they realized it only showed up during the full moon, put two and two together (at least, as much as they were capable, since they didn't know the full story), and decided to go out during the next full moon and kill the monster. Larry was asked to be part of the hunting party. By now, he was a nervous wreck; he'd figured out what he was, and felt absolutely horrible about the innocent people he had hurt and/or killed. He had come to think of himself as a monster. Well, yes, he is; but he saw that as a bad thing. Anyway, he'd decided that the only way his soul could be saved would be for the hunters to kill him, so he intentionally separated from the others, transformed when the moon rose, and came after them, as he’d known he would. His own father had raised his gun (filled with silver bullets; it’s incredible what kind of crazy additions to myths you humans think up) and was about to shoot- when the wolf man suddenly vanished, mid-leap.
Meanwhile, on the same night, only 70 years in the future, some teenage mages were fooling around in the town cemetery, doing conjuring spells, since it was the full moon (Supposedly it's the best time for magic, when a mages powers will be at their height; personally I think I’ll believe it when I see it). And, it figured that by accident they would summon Larry. He appeared, sprawled across the coffin they'd been chanting around, snarling and growling. Terrified, the teens ran away; thankfully he was too dazed to chase after them. The next morning, having changed back into a human, he managed to get out of the cemetery and wander into the main part of town, begging anybody who came within his line of vision to kill him, and thus end the curse. That, in fact, is how we met. I was out on an investigation with Morty (this was before he became lieutenant), and Ishida gave us a call, asking us to take a break and bring in some lunatic who was causing a disturbance near the corner of Karloff and Hitchcock. So, we went and picked him up.
The moment I saw Larry, I knew he was in shock. His pupils were extremely dilated, and he staggered down the road, staring with unfocused eyes at the passing monsters. He had this awful, pained expression on his face. When he saw us, he said in a ragged voice, "Hello. Will you kill me?" He didn't even notice that we weren't exactly human, he was so far gone. Needless to say, after bringing him to the station, we searched the yellow pages for the first available psychiatrist, who happened to be Doc Higgins. And now, after almost a year of therapy, a weekly meeting with Lycanthropes Anonymous, and a special spell that helped him turn into a complete wolf every full moon, Larry seems to have adjusted to his new life. It has done him a world of good to know that he's not the only one of his kind, and that he can go through life as a werewolf without killing, or even maiming, anybody. He has a job, and a home, and even the possibility of a family in the future. He still has that tortured, agonized facial expression every once in a while, but I think that's become second nature for Larry.
Higgins lives in the middle of Elm Street, in an ancient house called The Nightmare. I don't know who came up with the idea of giving old houses names, but it's a weird one. Higgins uses The Nightmare as his office; his patients go there for appointments, so that he never has to go out, unless they schedule it as a house call. It's funny, but his house is the only one on his block that actually looks like the sort of place a monster would inhabit, and he's the only one in his neighborhood who doesn’t look at all like a monster. Everyone else has these normal-looking, modern houses, and he has this big, fancy, kind of dilapidated mansion. I wonder if he does it just to be eccentric.
It was pouring rain, and that makes for very bad flying weather, so I had to walk. I strolled down the street, lost in thought, hands in pockets. Unfortunately, my mind was so focused on the case, and its detestable suspect, that I was not paying strict attention to where I was going. Suddenly, I was hit from the front by something both small and fragile. I stepped back in surprise, and beheld a young woman, dressed in jeans, a jacket, and a T-shirt with the initials H.N.M. on it, holding a collecting tin in hand. I could see, just by observing her, that she was a hybrid Light Fae, that one of her parents had been disinherited (probably following their marriage), that she worked for a monster welfare program, and that she spent some of her time gardening. How did I know, you may ask? The first part, about her being a hybrid fae, came from her eyes. The right one was a luminous green, but the left was silver. When two different species of fae marry and have children, the children have bicolored eyes, based off what their parents are (I guess it’s because the two differing genetic materials split them, or something). Hers had been a Floran and a T'sa, respectively. And, since the T'sai are by nature mostly snobs, and discourage their offspring from associating with other species, let alone marrying them, her T'sa parent had most definitely been disowned. Also, she was generating a bit of sunlight to keep herself warm, a skill basically only possessed by Flori. The initials on her shirt stood for Help Needy Monsters, an organization that had come into being recently in Styxburg, and gives help to the tired, poor, homeless masses yearning to have a place in the monster world. H.N.M. also defends interbreeding between species, protesting against segregation and bigotry that show up every once in a while. As for the gardening, her hands were kind of tough and callused on the palms and insides of the fingers, especially on her right hand, meaning she had spent time doing manual labor. Since Flori are talented in working with plants, that could only mean work gardening.
"Sorry," I muttered, trying to push past. To my surprise and annoyance, she stepped back into my way, brandished the collecting tin, and asked, "Are you aware that every day, hundreds of monsters starve in the streets, and thousands more are shunned because they are not pure-blooded monsters, or because they are not humans?"
"Well, yes, actually, I am. Now, if you'll excuse me..." I tried to squirm past, but she was persistent.
"Your contribution could help to feed just one of the homeless for a month, or help us to pass a law against discrimination on account of species! Only twenty dollars could-"
"Sorry," I interrupted through gritted teeth, "but I can't help you right now." With that, I bent my knees, and jumped right over her. I landed gracefully on my feet, and began to walk away. Don't get me wrong, I'm for justice and everyone having a home as much as the next monster. But I hadn't got any money on me, and I hate donating to charities. They annoy me, especially the overly zealous ones. The girl, obviously not believing I had nothing to offer her, stormed after me, demanding, "Have you no pity? While you sit in your comfortable home, eating 3 square meals a day and using hot running water, tens of thousands of poor, lost souls roam the streets crying out for the most basic necessities! They-"
That did it. My dander was already up on account of the case, and all the stress I'd been experiencing today. This girl made it worse. I snapped.
Whirling around, I snarled at her, "Look, lady! I've got my own problems right now; I don't need anyone else's! And furthermore, you have no right to judge me! Now LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
The girl stepped back in shock, looking as though I had slapped her. Without another word, I stormed on my way.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Freegans part 28
Lucy
I felt a little nervous, but figured anyone was better than the Junkmen or the Vice President. Our new friend said, "It's best if we take this way out, so there will be less bloodshed. Come on." We were about to follow, when Madiza walked right up to him, a slightly suspicious look on her face, and stared him right in the eyes. She stood like that for several seconds, as if she were looking for something. Suddenly she smiled and said, "You're a good boy." Then she stood up on tiptoe and patted him on the head.
The man, who quickly introduced himself as Kestrel, led us down a tunnel, his plasma rifle cocked and ready. Madiza skipped along, a wide grin plastered on her face, as if we were going on a picnic. Cara and Matt were slinking as quietly as you please. Seeing how well they could adjust to the situation made me feel loud and clumsy, and as stealthy as a water buffalo. Which, in fact, I probably was. And Ben? Thankfully, he stayed by me, to help me along. I felt a wave of gratitude towards him. He was so nice all the time.
Of course, our escape was slightly ruined by the fact that somehow the Junkmen found out we had escaped, and sent out robots after us. Thankfully, we now had Kestrel, so we had better chances. Instantly he fired off another round of plasma, blasting most of them into pulp. He waved us behind him, so that he wouldn't accidentally hit any of us. However, more and more robots just kept coming. We backed up slowly, moving down the tunnel. Suddenly, we couldn't go any farther. With a touch of deja vu, I saw that we had another giant pit behind us. Without wasting time, Cara clicked her heels and blasted into the air. Then she got one of the grappling hooks out of her pack, and attached it to a pipe in the ceiling.
"Come on, guys! You can swing over!" she called. While she was saying this, she walked on the air to the other side. Instantly I got a wave of vertigo. The idea of swinging over what looked like a bottomless pit made my legs go weak. However, the next thing I knew, Ben had grabbed the rope and was tying it around my waist.
"What are you doing?! I'll die! Or fall! Or something!" I shrilled, feeling terrified out of my wits.
"Relax, Luce," said Matt. "Cara will catch you. There's nothing to be afraid of." Ben reached out a hand and pushed my eyelids closed, which I interpreted as telling me to do that. I nodded, squeezing them shut. The next thing I knew, I was whooshing through the air, and suddenly Cara had me, and was untying the rope.
"See, silly?" she asked. "I knew you could do it."
I felt a little nervous, but figured anyone was better than the Junkmen or the Vice President. Our new friend said, "It's best if we take this way out, so there will be less bloodshed. Come on." We were about to follow, when Madiza walked right up to him, a slightly suspicious look on her face, and stared him right in the eyes. She stood like that for several seconds, as if she were looking for something. Suddenly she smiled and said, "You're a good boy." Then she stood up on tiptoe and patted him on the head.
The man, who quickly introduced himself as Kestrel, led us down a tunnel, his plasma rifle cocked and ready. Madiza skipped along, a wide grin plastered on her face, as if we were going on a picnic. Cara and Matt were slinking as quietly as you please. Seeing how well they could adjust to the situation made me feel loud and clumsy, and as stealthy as a water buffalo. Which, in fact, I probably was. And Ben? Thankfully, he stayed by me, to help me along. I felt a wave of gratitude towards him. He was so nice all the time.
Of course, our escape was slightly ruined by the fact that somehow the Junkmen found out we had escaped, and sent out robots after us. Thankfully, we now had Kestrel, so we had better chances. Instantly he fired off another round of plasma, blasting most of them into pulp. He waved us behind him, so that he wouldn't accidentally hit any of us. However, more and more robots just kept coming. We backed up slowly, moving down the tunnel. Suddenly, we couldn't go any farther. With a touch of deja vu, I saw that we had another giant pit behind us. Without wasting time, Cara clicked her heels and blasted into the air. Then she got one of the grappling hooks out of her pack, and attached it to a pipe in the ceiling.
"Come on, guys! You can swing over!" she called. While she was saying this, she walked on the air to the other side. Instantly I got a wave of vertigo. The idea of swinging over what looked like a bottomless pit made my legs go weak. However, the next thing I knew, Ben had grabbed the rope and was tying it around my waist.
"What are you doing?! I'll die! Or fall! Or something!" I shrilled, feeling terrified out of my wits.
"Relax, Luce," said Matt. "Cara will catch you. There's nothing to be afraid of." Ben reached out a hand and pushed my eyelids closed, which I interpreted as telling me to do that. I nodded, squeezing them shut. The next thing I knew, I was whooshing through the air, and suddenly Cara had me, and was untying the rope.
"See, silly?" she asked. "I knew you could do it."
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