Author Topic: Prelude to War: Revelations  (Read 1062 times)

Aunty M

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Prelude to War: Revelations
« on: June 14, 2017, 02:10:24 PM »
[size=14]Part 1 - Aunty M[/size]

[size=10]The Devils Gonna Git You

Devil's gonna git you,
Devil's gonna git you,
Oh, the devil's gonna git you,
The way you're carryin' on...


Bessie Smith

Listen to it here![/size]

Aunty M lay on the dark red chaise lounge.  A creamy white, unblemished arm draped over her head in a dramatic fashion.  She's dressed in a form fitting, tailored satin dress of ivory that highlights her slender while bountifully full figure and compliments her coiffed warm blonde hair.  A perfectly manicured hand lifts a slim cigarette to full, pouty lips a shine with deep red lipstick and she imbibes in a lengthy pull; it's been a long time since she's been able to enjoy this particular sin.  Her body renewed it could handle it.  

Her gaze sweeps over her million-dollar view of New York City.  Perched high atop a rooftop in an extravagantly expensive Penthouse Apartment Aunty M looks down upon the city lights glittering below.  It is almost as if the sky had been flipped upside down; a foreboding darkness high above while the stars sparkled below.  She slowly exhales the thick blue smoke and smirks.  Here she is living in luxury, unlike the squalor of Rhy'Din.   Her shell, the stolen body she wears like most would clothing, had been completely restored to its former glory; youth, beauty, she had it all.  She was reaping the unexpected benefits of a spell gone awry, while Howe...

Who knew where Howe really was? More so, who really cared?!

Certainly, he no longer walked this plane of existence, she couldn't sense him anywhere in the physical.  As the one who claimed his contract, she had a special connection with that dog.  But even she can't find him.

She had abandoned him when chaos erupted inside the warehouse.  It was exactly what the snake deserved as far as she was concerned.  He'd failed again and again in doing her bidding, always ****ing everything up.  But she had to confess she was mighty pleased with the outcome of this particular ****-up; it was everything she could have asked for!  Instead of inheriting, (stealing...) Belial's physical shell (which she really didn't want anyway) her own had miraculously been rejuvenated!

Although, she hated to admit, she had no idea how or why it had happened.  It shouldn't have - that much she knew.  She could only imagine that when Howe screwed the spell up he royally screwed it up so bad it ironically worked in her favor.  Or at least this is what she has chosen to believe.  M has decided to ignore all that Angelic Magic Howe had been toying with.  He really should have known better.

It simply wasn't at all healthy for a Demon to immerse themselves in garbage like that!

M let the smirk curve into a smile on lips painted dark red as she sat up.  Running a hand down the satin smoothness of her dress she relished the feel of the fleshy firmness.  Yes, this was everything she wanted!  If there were any drawbacks to what happened in the warehouse she was blissfully unaware and she planned on staying that way.  

However, there are some minor inconveniences.  She needed new minions as she'd had to leave hers behind.  Minions didn't tend to travel well, being dead and all.  Briefly she pondered what would happen to the Willa's now that she was not around to keep them motivated.  Without her about to instill them with a half-life, minions tended to simply waste away.  But even as the thought came it went.  M is far too narcissistic to worry about anyone other than M.  Heck, she hasn't even bothered to wonder what became of that freak Belial.  Were it to cross her mind M would simply be tickled that there was a possibility Belial no longer existed.  

She took another leisurely draw from her cigarette.  Her movements elegant, practiced; a portrait of Marlene Dietrich perfection.  M, over her time in the physical realm, had studied beautiful women and learned to mimic them.  She adapted many aspects to better entice and enchant her potential victims.  It had become such a habit that even when she was alone she maintained the facade.  She was very good at it and now, with her body back in prime condition, it would serve her anew.  

M stands as she grinds out the cigarette in an overflowing ornate crystal ashtray.  Cleaning up after herself was never her forte.  Her smile dances as she considers her choices for the evening.  First, she will need someone to drive her about as she is terrible at it herself, always wanting to run over pedestrians or speed off to her destination.  Oh, and most assuredly someone to take care of her apartment, pick up after her messy ways.  A nice upscale couple would suit, hopefully with at least a hint of New York chic and taste.  It was time for M to make New York her new home.

(To Be Continued...)
[b:0ce780816b]M[/b:0ce780816b]
[size=9:0ce780816b][i:0ce780816b]"Youth is wasted on the young  Oscar Wilde once said.  Well, I am about to test that theory."[/i:0ce780816b]
[b:0ce780816b]M[/b:0ce780816b][/size:0ce780816b]

Hellene

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Prelude to War: Revelations - Part II - True Love Lost
« Reply #1 on: November 18, 2017, 02:07:58 PM »
[size=16]True Love Lost[/size]

[size=10]"Most dangerous is that temptation that doth goad us on to sin in loving virtue."
~ William Shakespeare[/size]

I came seeking my love but was caught in a trap of my own making.  I would like to say that I thought through the idea - riding the Hag into Mab's compound, stealing into the sleep of my love, and unleashing her hold upon him.  It had seemed so simple and easy, a plan that couldn't fail.  Between the Hag's abilities and my own I thought the plan infallible.  In my imagination we would be reunited, and our love would bloom unfettered once again...

It had not dawned on me until I was moments from him that it could go terribly wrong.  That I would find myself trapped in Mab's twisted dimension, merely a ghost of myself.  Yet that is what happened.  I linger in a half-life much as Mab does, only I realize it and she continues to live in her delusions of grandeur.  

Some things never change...

I was saved by faithful followers answering my call and something very unexpected: an unknown, a necromancer with a heart.  

As I sang my ethereal song nearby followers found their path to me.  They pretended to join the forces of Mab, hiding their true intent with as much help from me as I could muster.  I admit it wasn't much... being halved takes a lot out of a soul.  Six were given access to Mab's inner sanctum, her dimensional rift where she'd jailed me.  Two had grown close enough to Mab to gain her ear as counsel.  Two others made themselves indispensable to her, seeing to her every physical need.  Two of the six fled, along with hundreds of others, when her madness became overwhelming.  Or, perchance, influenced by my song?  I did not know if I were contributing to the situation in either a positive or negative way, but I never stopped singing.  I wanted to save them all.

I did not blame any of them for running away, nor did I try to stop them.  I understood their panic.  And I still have four faithful left ready and willing to serve me when the time finally arrives.  

Then came the Cat with the Girl in the pouch.  It was followed by the necromancer - the Shadow Man as Mab called him.  But I knew something she didn't; he could hear me, hear my song.  I don't know how he could hear me, but I knew he did when he glanced my way with a tilt of his head as if listening.  He granted all of us the single most precious of gifts: a scroll that would set us free me from the tyranny of Mab.  I was shocked and grateful.  I wondered how he'd known?  Was it my song?  Or something else?  I had no time to ask him, for he was there and gone too quick for me to act.  So enthralled was I in their exchange and that tiny bit of hope.  I feared Mab would most certainly notice and destroy it.

Even in my ghostly form it was easy for me to see the spell alight on the parchment, yet Mab didn't seem to notice the scroll at all.  An oddity I immediately added to my growing arsenal against her.  My momentary feeling of small victory was washed away as she captured the Girl in the pouch jailing her in a soul gem.  

Another promise broken.  

Mab has truly lost all her honor - if she'd ever held any?  

Once, long ago, we had promised to honor the souls under our charge.  We agreed that the gems would only be used to keep our kin safe from those that sought to destroy them - they were never intended to keep a soul captive.  It seems there is no line Mab wouldn't cross, I knew it in that moment as clearly as an endless blue sky.

In the early morning hours, Fa'thea, a faithful servant of mine, collected the parchment scroll from the pocket of Mab's dress left on the floor forgotten.  She placed the pouch on Mab's dresser in an effort to avert potential suspicion.  It worked like a charm, Mab never seemed to notice the missing scroll.  She seemed happy to remain fixated on getting even with some demon she called Howe.  

We, my faithful servants and I, had our way out.  Now, all we had to do was wait for the return of my truest of loves, Camthalion.  I had high hopes that the spell would free him and the others under her influence like him as well.  

Alas that is not to be!  Every day Mab's insanity has grown in intensity and now the whispers have born truth; The Oberon has closed off the Land's anew and my heart has sunken to new depths of sorrow.  My love could well be free of Mab's control, but as lost to me as my own body.  I have no way home and he cannot return here - he is likely to die in the Lands for his trespass in Mab's name.  Our ilk are not forgiven our bad behaviors even when we have been enthralled.

What have I done?

Had I waited too long for selfish reasons?  Is my optimism my curse?  

I do not have the luxury to lament.  It was time for me to silence the songs and end this imprisonment!  There was no reason to wait for there is nothing left to hold us here and every reason to flee.

In her fury, Mab has taken her once trusted counselors and hung them by their arms from posts erected along her walls.  A slow, cruel death intended.  Two of whom, Tanithil and Virion, are faithful to me.  Her anger is boundless and she lays the blame upon them, harsh and sharp, for not foreseeing The Oberon's actions.  Fa'thea prays in fervent whispers for my compassion, to save her husband from Mab's heinous fate.

I cannot continue this selfish endeavor any longer, it has become futile and pointless.  Perhaps my true love will be lost to me forever?  It is a risk I must take if I am to be true to myself.

I reply firmly, confidently to my most faithful, Fa'thea, "Yes my dear heart, it is time.  Read the scroll."

I know not what will happen to us next, but I have faith it will be brighter than this.

Goodbye, Camthalion, wherever you may be.  Know that I will always carry you in my heart.

[size=10](To Be Continued...)[/size]
[b:687ad265b8]Hellene[/b:687ad265b8]
[size=9:687ad265b8][i:687ad265b8]Mother is the home we come from. She is nature, soil, ocean.[/i:687ad265b8]
- [b:687ad265b8]Erich Fromm[/b:687ad265b8][/size:687ad265b8]