Author Topic: Misleading The Mislead  (Read 390 times)


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Misleading The Mislead
« on: June 10, 2018, 06:29:37 PM »

"You have to find it. No one else can find it for you."

–Bjorn Borg

The only source of information he had to go by was a picture. A black and white photograph that did not seem at all to be recent. The girl in the picture was attractive with freckles and what he could gather to be a redhead. Einar was busy examining the photograph once again. It was a bit frayed at the edges thanks to its constant travel. He had He kept it close on his person at all times. He'd never know if she just might mysteriously just pop up into his life. Even if she did...what then? Einar pondered this thought as he sat in the bar of a random pub that he had forgotten the name of. The smells of booze, body odour and other scents drifted into his sensitive nostrils. It wasn't the cleanest or most pleasant of establishments but it had what and he needed and that was a good stiff drink. He had asked around previously if anyone knew her. Her face anyway. He didn't even have a name to put to the face. Maybe the Romany girl had swindled him after all.  It was a dismal thought and Einar put it to rest since the last thing he needed was negativity.

"I've come this far. I can't give up now," the lad mumbled to himself under his breath. He tended to carry out one-sided conversations with himself when he was either tired or drunk. At the moment he was both. Green eyes were half-lidded and he tipped the bartender before he got to his feet and took one last drink from his whiskey bottle before he placed the picture into the inside of his jacket pocket and started towards the door. His steps were slow and slightly off balance as was expected from someone who had consumed nearly an entire bottle of whiskey. At least he wasn't a complete lightweight. He snorted out a laugh at his own thought and the sound he made only made him laugh harder as he made his way further down the road. He wasn't sure how he somehow made it home in one piece in the middle of the night to his dismal one bedroom apartment in the West End. It took some effort to find his keys and when he did finding the right one and unlocking the door was an even bigger chore. The seemingly ancient wooden barrier gave way and Einar stumbled on in closing the door behind him. The keys were placed on the coffee table as well as the picture of the elusive redhead. Einar plopped onto his back as he lay on the couch. Not bothering to even get out of his street clothes. The whiskey numbed his whirling thoughts and frustration for the time being. However, when he would awaken the next day all of it would be there waiting for him like an old friend. That, and a rather nasty hangover.


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« Reply #1 on: April 13, 2019, 12:24:27 AM »
" I guess when you turn off the main road, you have to be prepared to see some funny houses, " - Stephen King

Einar was familiar with this routine. He had done this time and time again, but why did this time feel different? He paused as he walked towards the fortune teller's shop. Green eyes looking to the window where the word Psychic read in purple neon letters. A smiling silver half-moon accompanied by twinkling stars sat in the window. The tall lad pushed open the wooden door and made his way inside the shop. Immediately, his nostrils were hit with the unmistakable smell of incense. He made his way to the back of the shop where red velvet curtains had been draped. He paused once again until he heard a voice from behind the curtains. Distinctly feminine and quite youthful sounding.

"Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to make up your mind?" the words had a near playful tone and laced with a distinct Eastern European accent.

"I think you know the answer," was Einar's reply once his spidery fingers touched the soft curtains which parted them, permitting him to make his way into the room where the owner of the voice did much of her work. Lounging in a large wooden chair that resembled a throne, complete with a high back and raven heads carved into the armrests was a rather slim attractive girl in a spaghetti strapped black top that disappeared into a pair of faded blue jeans. She was slim to the point of near anorexia. Dark blonde hair hung past her shoulders and nearly reached past her armpits. She looked barely seventeen but her luminous black eyes spoke otherwise. They were like bottomless wells of deep memory. The eyes of a very ancient being.

"I do," was the girl's reply. She gestured for the lad to have a seat and he did so. Taking his seat in a simple wooden chair that sat across from the Romany girl. Einar didn't even have to even say the words. She knew there was something different in his demeanour. In his aura. "You have not come to discuss that mission of yours have you, "the girl stated.

"No," Einar replied simply. His eyes focused on her. "This is something else," he replied. " The mission is put on hold...for now." The Romany smiled at this. A rather knowing smile. She reminded Einar of a cat that had eaten a canary. "Go on..." she told him gently.

"There's this girl I've met," he began. "Mysterious, Mediterranean, beautiful. " The Romany was amused by the look on the lad's face. Oh, he was smitten alright. She hadn't seen him in this state before. Whether this was a good or bad thing remained to be seen.

"I see, " she replied. " That is not the full story of why you are here, is it, Einar? It is your dreams." Einar didn't even blink when she asked him this question.

"Partly, yes. I dream of a wolf. A white and black furred wolf with eyes that are ocean blue. In the dream I'm following the wolf towards a lake and then a shadow of a woman appears and the wolf vanishes and the shadow does to consuming the wolf." Einar sounded slightly unnerved by the dream. The Romany girl nodded slowly as she listened, her expression serious. "You believe this dream has ties to...this girl?" She was fishing for a name.

"Leorah," the lad replied. "I do. I'm not troubled by the wolf or the lake. It's the shadow. Something I feel I should be wary of. That it's someone I've met before. " He frowned. "It doesn't make any sense, does it?"

" It makes more sense than you realize, Einar, " the Romany replied. She looked to the crystal ball that sat in the middle of the table. " You also are not as powerless as you think you are. What have you done before? When there was an obstacle or a prize you wanted to obtain? You crushed it. You took what you wanted. Why should this be any different? " She sounded almost amused. " If you like her and she likes you, what is the problem? Your mission? I do not think it is as important to you as you would like to think. " I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog too. Einar wasn't sure why he was mentally quoting the Wizard of Oz just now.

"I thought it was, " he replied. " Now I'm not so sure. Even if I could return to what I was before it wouldn't be the same. " He wasn't sad about it. It was just a fact. " I've been in this state for far too long. I'm not what I was before. It's not good and it's not bad. It just is what it is." Einar felt a strange feeling of relief wash over him as he finally accepted this fact. The Romany merely stared at him for a moment before she spoke.

"If this shadow is what I think it is, then you may have to fight fire with fire, " the Romany told him.

"Last time that happened I almost burned down half of the dockside," Einar admitted. He didn't realize that the Gypsy was speaking in metaphors until she told him so with a tone of mild annoyance.

" You may have to use magic," she told him. Einar thought on this. He looked as if he almost disbelieved that he could.

"Why the doubt, Einar? Magic runs through the very core of your being. No matter what form you take. An ancient creature like yourself would know this. You attract other magical beings. You cannot turn your back on it, especially now. "

"I get a sense that I'm running out of time, " he told the Gypsy.

" You just may be right, " she replied. Einar nodded and got to his feet.

" Leaving so soon, " the Romany asked. The humour returning to her face.

" I have a lot to think about," Einar replied. " Thank you, Star." The Gypsy merely grinned at him. She cleared her throat as the tall black-clad lad turned to leave. He slowly turned to look back at her. She held her hand out and retracted it when her payment was received.

" Good luck," she told him as he made his way towards the velvet curtains.

"Thanks," he replied and soon he made his way past the curtains and out of her vision.

"You will need it," she muttered when the lad was finally out of earshot.


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"At First Scent"
« Reply #2 on: April 24, 2019, 03:56:28 PM »
It had been a long, overly exhausting night for Leorah. It seemed task after task was thrown her way and before she knew it night was already invading the skies. Multifaceted blues peered up to the blood orange and purple clouds trailing their dying origin just above the horizon. Luckily, she had just finished with the last job for the day. Slender fingers twisted the bag at her feet, winding and winding till the material was thin enough to form a sailor's knot. She then gave a little bend of her knees to haul her goods over her shoulder and to her employer. A woman so petite carrying what appeared to be a body bag made her way through woodlands, her frame a mess of soil, blood, and sweat. She wreaked of a hunt that took too long, her hair a wild mess of earthly possessions and perspiration.

Only a few miles carrying the dead weight until it was dropped in the makings of an abandoned alley and warehouse. There a burly man of too many beers in his belly clamored towards her while clapping his chubby hands together. He gave a low whistle obnoxiously reaching out to ruffle Leorah's already unforgivable mane.

"Wheeeew Leo girl, you did a good job. Thought I was going to have to give this a whirl, you were taking a little longer than usual." He waggled his bush brows at her while one of those forsaken hands gripped at a whistle at his neck, his index and thumb holding it much too close to her face while his wrist twitched this way and that in a teasing manner.

She didn't even give the man a chance to continue his rant before she spat right on that whistle he waggled at her. Blues flecked with gold seared through the middle aged man, a booted foot taking a step toward him in challenge.

"Don't screw with me Mike, give me what you promised and take your s*** with you. I've done my part now give me that ****ing whistle and be gone."

A hand shot out to snatch the whistle from his neck but Mike, given his fat bearings, retracted pretty easily while tsking and shaking his head. A low growl ruptured from deep within her chest and radiated its way through her throat.

"Now now! Calm down Leo girl, let's not ruin a good thing we have going here. I was only joking with you kiddo." He held both hands up in retreat, the whistle dropping to his neck once more. "Look, you do a good job. Lately I know we've been calling more often but we pay you good too, don't we?"

She moved back from him, arms crossing over her chest as she shrugged and shook her head. "Yea, whatever. You do. But I don't want to do this forever. A few jobs I said, not all of them. I'm not your dog."

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, the other hand pulling the whistle from his neck and tossing it at her. "No, you're a bitch alright but you're right. My bad. I'll give you a break, ok? Couple days off, get your mind right, then come back so we can keep getting the bad guys."

She gave a long sigh before cursing something in Portugese at him, a hand coursing through her knotted waves of chocolate before she bent to retrieve the whistle. With some pressure from her thumb it was bent and eventually broken, the snapped pieces left to be tossed to the ground. She spun on her heel towards the docks, the man left with the package and without a reply from her.

She wasn't quite sure what drew her to the docks, perhaps it was the closest platform to water that she could jump off of. All she could think of was soaking in some form of water, washing away the burdensome engagements with the fat dealer. Eventually she found herself sitting on the wooden platform, legs dangling over the edge allowing her feet a cool dip in the waters below. She had managed to brush whatever debri was in her hair with her fingers, plucking a twig here and there before combing the rest out. She had been alone for a while on the dock which suited her fine, she wasn't in the mood to conversate with anyone.

Thankfully she always stowed extra pairs of clothing here and there just in case a job ever got messy and she couldn't return home. At least she didn't look like a murdered mess now. Lips pressed firmly together as her blues swept over the water, a sharp inhale taken in an attempt for relaxed breathing but she'd get nowhere near that. There was something in the air, a scent that she was unfamiliar with and in all honesty was entirely too intoxicating not to investigate. She didn't move from her seated position but she did lift her head and tilt it to allow those blues to watch the man that approached at the beginning of the dock.

He was a young thing dressed in all black, a pale man with piercing emerald eyes. She had nearly forgotten the reason she turned to look at him because her blues were lost in his greens. Lips parted in her awe and when she drew in another breath she practically sighed with relief from how beautiful of a scent it was. But he'd never see her staring, nor he'd know just how intently she watched him because she'd readjust to face away several steps before he was standing near her.

A day that started to resemble hell had suddenly made a turn around. For whatever reason this man's scent pulled her in, trapped her, and she was enticed to know who he was. She took a deep breath in making a memory of his scent, a sensation overwhelming her as she finally looked up at him. Their eyes crossed and their story began.
"Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart.
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart.
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in.
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl."


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« Reply #3 on: May 07, 2019, 08:21:18 AM »
"Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever." - Neil Gaiman

"You seem distracted," the barista at his usual coffee shop announced. Her kohl lined eyes looking up at the rather tall black haired youth. She was nearly a foot shorter than her imposingly tall crush. Silver piercings adnored her lip, nose and ears. Her hair was shaved at the side and dyed a sea foam green. Einar was oblivious to the girl's wide grey eyed stare. How she always tried to make small talk whenever he ordered his drink. It was the same exact drink every time he made an order. A large chai tea with half and half. Those wide green eyes never met her gaze although she tried to hold his. How she would never miss the oppertunity to touch his hand when when she needed to hand him back the change.

"Keep the change," he told her this time. Einar wasn't about to tell her why he was distracted. Why his mind kept traveling back to the sultry beauty he had conversed with on the docks. The preditory woman who almost seemed to know more about him than he even knew about himself. It should have sent the lad packing but what should have installed fear intrigued him. The girl merely watched him as a slow smile spread on her full black painted lips.

"You know, if you ever want to talk about it. Or talk about anything else," her hand was holding Einar's now. She placed a scrap of paper in those fingers. "Here's my number." The lad with drew his hand with a confused look. He scanned the scrap of paper over.
"Why would I want your number?" he asked. His question was genuine. Einar was a brutally honest sort but his intent was never malicious. The girl's face became red. She didn't answer his question but instead replied with a curt 'have a nice day.' Einar could swear he heard a f--- you tone in that voice. "...thanks." he told her and turned away feeling her eyes burn a hole into his back. He almost thought to leave but decided that he didn't feel like walking back to his car just yet. Instead he grabbed a book that was avaliable on the wide shelf of tomes, cross word puzzles, and photography books. Which he liked. Made him miss his old hobby of taking and developing pictures. His gaze soon rested on the title of the spine of the book. Shape shifters, Magical Beasts and Realms. The title intruged him enough to yank the book off the shelf and he decided it would be his reading material for now. His green eyes were focused on the book as he took heavy sips of his tea when he soon heard his name being uttered from exotic lips. The book was soon set down and low and behold was the object of his sleepness nights. The mystery he wanted so badly to unravel.

"Leorah..." her name was spilled from his lips as he offered a seat. She sat and the conversation began. All the while the grey eyed girl watched the two in the back with a shrug. "Makes sense," she uttered. Although she made a mental note to herself to put a laxative in his drink the next time he made an order.