Afterthought (Silas, Tiffany, & Ionone)
Quote from Adriana on April 3, 2019, 6:37 pmCharacter arc largely involving Silas, Tiffany and Ionone of the Svalnaglas, as well as several werewolf hunters.
Daughter of Beta Baltronan, Diane Betine, sends mercenary Silas on a mission shrouded in obscurity and consisting of an unknown danger.
Silas eventually meets Tiffany of the Talkane faction of werewolves, as well as her long time companion Ionone of the Kitsunes, who encroach on his mission. He attempts to lose them, only to find they follow him to his destination - a cave in the Turbulence Mountain range.
A perilous trek through the belly of the mountain ensues, which eventually pits the Svalnaglas in a battle of life or death with Douglas, a werewolf hunter, and his posse.
They also meet Willowman - a human who had gone missing after an encounter with the werewolf hunters in the Phantom Mountain Range, and is scarcely human when found...
How long have I been walking in this desert?
It's so hot... everything is so hot. My head feels hot, my hands... are so sweaty. You don't sweat in a desert, do you? The light here is so bright, and the sun won't stop looking at me.
Someone's out there. No matter how hard I squint, I can't get this light out of my eyes, I can't make out their shape. I need to find out who it is.. my feet feel heavy and my stomach hurts.
What is that sound? That sounds is so horrible... my hair is standing on end...
Then I wake up... a dark room, all except for the bulb of the lamp staring down at me. I'm drenched in sweat, and feel utterly weak. That's right, I'm sick... and I slept through the full moons entrance into the night. My white undershirt is in shreds, I stretched out another perfectly good pair of dress pants. What was I working on? Whatever it was, my research is covered in sweat and a nice burnmark from a cigarette butt. That was maybe a half decent diagram of the virus cell, at one point. Oh well.
I stammer over to the closet and begin to change. I don't know what I'm doing, but I can't stay in that room. I change into my scout uniform, more outfitted for winter than usual, click off the lights and turn to leave...
Character arc largely involving Silas, Tiffany and Ionone of the Svalnaglas, as well as several werewolf hunters.
Daughter of Beta Baltronan, Diane Betine, sends mercenary Silas on a mission shrouded in obscurity and consisting of an unknown danger.
Silas eventually meets Tiffany of the Talkane faction of werewolves, as well as her long time companion Ionone of the Kitsunes, who encroach on his mission. He attempts to lose them, only to find they follow him to his destination - a cave in the Turbulence Mountain range.
A perilous trek through the belly of the mountain ensues, which eventually pits the Svalnaglas in a battle of life or death with Douglas, a werewolf hunter, and his posse.
They also meet Willowman - a human who had gone missing after an encounter with the werewolf hunters in the Phantom Mountain Range, and is scarcely human when found...
How long have I been walking in this desert?
It's so hot... everything is so hot. My head feels hot, my hands... are so sweaty. You don't sweat in a desert, do you? The light here is so bright, and the sun won't stop looking at me.
Someone's out there. No matter how hard I squint, I can't get this light out of my eyes, I can't make out their shape. I need to find out who it is.. my feet feel heavy and my stomach hurts.
What is that sound? That sounds is so horrible... my hair is standing on end...
Then I wake up... a dark room, all except for the bulb of the lamp staring down at me. I'm drenched in sweat, and feel utterly weak. That's right, I'm sick... and I slept through the full moons entrance into the night. My white undershirt is in shreds, I stretched out another perfectly good pair of dress pants. What was I working on? Whatever it was, my research is covered in sweat and a nice burnmark from a cigarette butt. That was maybe a half decent diagram of the virus cell, at one point. Oh well.
I stammer over to the closet and begin to change. I don't know what I'm doing, but I can't stay in that room. I change into my scout uniform, more outfitted for winter than usual, click off the lights and turn to leave...
Quote from Adriana on April 9, 2019, 10:43 amI stepped into my living room, glazing over it's lackluster features. All of the usual things in a house-couch, coffee table. A kitchen at the other side with the regular amenities. All the windows were closed and shuttered. Everything was clean, but I could smell the dust that had accumulated in a thick layer on every surface, along with that one single roof rat that I couldn't get rid of. I decided to call him Hamlet. I'm not sure why. Something about tragedy. I was convinced someday Hamlet would chew a wire and my house would be ashes when I got back. But I'd kind of grown attached, in the way that Batman never kills the Joker because they're actually pals behind the scenes.
The stillness was enveloping, and I decided I needed to move before I turned into a statue. I went to a closet and opened a safe built into the back wall, picking out some party favors, because I'm always ready for a good time. Throwing the straps over my shoulder, I closed the safe and left the house.
My house was nestled in a little suburban alcove where nobody else lived. I liked to think of it as a post apocalyptic world every time I stepped outside. There were about a dozen houses, but the streets were empty, no trashcans ready for pickup, no mailmen came around this neighborhood. It was a nice setup. The land was purchased and built upon independent of either neighboring city it was nestled between- somewhere centered between Pinerich and Middlecrest.
The purpose of the land was strictly Svalnaglas. They had the money for this kind of elaborate charade. I liked it. It was peaceful. Not the crowded, tense air of the city, or the secluded country where I couldn't get a phone signal or telephone wire out to so I could know when and where I was needed.
There were no nosy neighbors to ask why I wouldn't be coming to Jimmy's graduation party. Screw Jimmy and his buck teeth. There was nobody to complain to the land manager when another rowdy party at Cindy's spilled into the streets at two in the morning. No old gripey Peterson's next door to me who told me I shouldn't smoke and that they'd get cancer from the air that wafted over.
Most importantly, no little Red Riding Hoods to ask why I had such big teeth and so much fur.
I stretched my shoulders and neck, flickered my tail and coughed, the cold winter air irritating my chest. Then I looked to my driveway where there were two vehicles. That rattly old truck I had barely got Diane back home in during our last escapade, with my bloodstains still embedded into the dusty fabric cushions that made my eyes water when I got in it. The license plates were gone, the truck having vanished from existence a long time ago.
Then I had my baby- my 1965 Buick Riviera. As classy and timeless as it was fast, powerful and bold. Or so I thought, anyway. I had put a lot of work into it, so I could show it off to my make believe girlfriend, Miss Mary Clancy, who had an all too judgemental father and a ditsy mother who already showed stages of Alzheimer's.
I put my toys in the trunk, and slid into the driver side of good old Arcadia, who's windows were too dark for anyone to see even a silhouette of her driver.
Now to find out where this night would go.
I stepped into my living room, glazing over it's lackluster features. All of the usual things in a house-couch, coffee table. A kitchen at the other side with the regular amenities. All the windows were closed and shuttered. Everything was clean, but I could smell the dust that had accumulated in a thick layer on every surface, along with that one single roof rat that I couldn't get rid of. I decided to call him Hamlet. I'm not sure why. Something about tragedy. I was convinced someday Hamlet would chew a wire and my house would be ashes when I got back. But I'd kind of grown attached, in the way that Batman never kills the Joker because they're actually pals behind the scenes.
The stillness was enveloping, and I decided I needed to move before I turned into a statue. I went to a closet and opened a safe built into the back wall, picking out some party favors, because I'm always ready for a good time. Throwing the straps over my shoulder, I closed the safe and left the house.
My house was nestled in a little suburban alcove where nobody else lived. I liked to think of it as a post apocalyptic world every time I stepped outside. There were about a dozen houses, but the streets were empty, no trashcans ready for pickup, no mailmen came around this neighborhood. It was a nice setup. The land was purchased and built upon independent of either neighboring city it was nestled between- somewhere centered between Pinerich and Middlecrest.
The purpose of the land was strictly Svalnaglas. They had the money for this kind of elaborate charade. I liked it. It was peaceful. Not the crowded, tense air of the city, or the secluded country where I couldn't get a phone signal or telephone wire out to so I could know when and where I was needed.
There were no nosy neighbors to ask why I wouldn't be coming to Jimmy's graduation party. Screw Jimmy and his buck teeth. There was nobody to complain to the land manager when another rowdy party at Cindy's spilled into the streets at two in the morning. No old gripey Peterson's next door to me who told me I shouldn't smoke and that they'd get cancer from the air that wafted over.
Most importantly, no little Red Riding Hoods to ask why I had such big teeth and so much fur.
I stretched my shoulders and neck, flickered my tail and coughed, the cold winter air irritating my chest. Then I looked to my driveway where there were two vehicles. That rattly old truck I had barely got Diane back home in during our last escapade, with my bloodstains still embedded into the dusty fabric cushions that made my eyes water when I got in it. The license plates were gone, the truck having vanished from existence a long time ago.
Then I had my baby- my 1965 Buick Riviera. As classy and timeless as it was fast, powerful and bold. Or so I thought, anyway. I had put a lot of work into it, so I could show it off to my make believe girlfriend, Miss Mary Clancy, who had an all too judgemental father and a ditsy mother who already showed stages of Alzheimer's.
I put my toys in the trunk, and slid into the driver side of good old Arcadia, who's windows were too dark for anyone to see even a silhouette of her driver.
Now to find out where this night would go.
Quote from Adriana on April 17, 2019, 8:48 pmI sunk back easily in my seat as I drove along the long stretch of freeway between my humble suburban home and the city of Pinerich. There was no hurry. It was well into the night already- if there were any meetings or junctures I was expected at, I was usually informed earlier. I typically liked to stay within the city limits during full moons as an extra pair of hands, in case anything slipped. The Svalnaglas did a good job of keeping wayward bands out of the city.. and by out, I mean in the Monvak River, with the likes of Darius and his gang.
That particular band of disorganized thugs turned that woman Robin and the one eyed loner, who in turn worked under another man and tried to burn me and a friend alive. I didn't know what had become of the old man, or the loners at this point. The last time I'd seen them, or at least her, the Reggadae family was hosting a gracious thank you soiree for the woman... who I'd discovered was married to our own Jodecai, who together with her had sired that confused Slovak speaking, Native Indian hybrid woman called Logan, who was in with the Calagathorm. It was enough to make me dizzy.. er than I already was.
I mulled over what I knew of her story as I drove. The light posts were few and far between out here, mostly placed at the turnoff of some dirt trail with the faint promise of a homestead at the end. The yellow lines on the road were hypnotic, but I kept my gaze steadily forward.
Most of what I knew of Logan, I had obtained while she was drugged on Phantom Mountain. She had left her little rural mining village someplace North, after being attacked by a werewolf. If she knew that her blood was already mingled with the virus, would she have stayed? Even after letting her relation to the Svalnaglas be known to myself and Diane, Jodecai had remained decidedly tight lipped about Logan and I was left to fill in the blanks. It's not like my career revolves around extrapolating or anything.
I was relieved the Svalnaglas had seemingly let Robin go. Even if she did nearly burn me alive, which was a piece of information that burned with the shack in those woods. It was a unique and complicated situation, and somehow, even then I got the feeling that she and her ally were acting without much desire on their part. It's a dog eat, dog world. I was in their shoes once. Who was I kidding-I still am. Only instead of Texas Hold 'Em, I'm playing Omaha at a different table. A much bigger and solemn table where an extra card up your sleeve would buy you a nice plot of land in a marble orchard.
I breathed in through my mouth and exhaled slowly out of my nose, one hand on the wheel. A green road sign, bright in my headlights for a sixteenth of a second before I drove past, read "Welcome to Pinerich". Not too much further to drive. I lifted the car phone from the dash and pressed two buttons, that would automatically route to the full phone number, which belonged to Diane Betine.
I was her man first. While her father, the First Beta, was my immediate supervisor and had taken me under his wing when Leonem Rubrum left me all but dead, he and his daughters ideals didn't always seem to align.. and somehow, I ended up answering to Diane more often than him these days. First of all, who could say no to a woman on a mission. Secondly, who could say no to Diane. As beautiful and elegant as she was intelligent, fierce and determined. If she said, "jump off a cliff", I'd ask, "freefall or dive?". I listened to the phone ring, two, three times, more... she was likely busy, and if so, I'd show up, business as usual.
I sunk back easily in my seat as I drove along the long stretch of freeway between my humble suburban home and the city of Pinerich. There was no hurry. It was well into the night already- if there were any meetings or junctures I was expected at, I was usually informed earlier. I typically liked to stay within the city limits during full moons as an extra pair of hands, in case anything slipped. The Svalnaglas did a good job of keeping wayward bands out of the city.. and by out, I mean in the Monvak River, with the likes of Darius and his gang.
That particular band of disorganized thugs turned that woman Robin and the one eyed loner, who in turn worked under another man and tried to burn me and a friend alive. I didn't know what had become of the old man, or the loners at this point. The last time I'd seen them, or at least her, the Reggadae family was hosting a gracious thank you soiree for the woman... who I'd discovered was married to our own Jodecai, who together with her had sired that confused Slovak speaking, Native Indian hybrid woman called Logan, who was in with the Calagathorm. It was enough to make me dizzy.. er than I already was.
I mulled over what I knew of her story as I drove. The light posts were few and far between out here, mostly placed at the turnoff of some dirt trail with the faint promise of a homestead at the end. The yellow lines on the road were hypnotic, but I kept my gaze steadily forward.
Most of what I knew of Logan, I had obtained while she was drugged on Phantom Mountain. She had left her little rural mining village someplace North, after being attacked by a werewolf. If she knew that her blood was already mingled with the virus, would she have stayed? Even after letting her relation to the Svalnaglas be known to myself and Diane, Jodecai had remained decidedly tight lipped about Logan and I was left to fill in the blanks. It's not like my career revolves around extrapolating or anything.
I was relieved the Svalnaglas had seemingly let Robin go. Even if she did nearly burn me alive, which was a piece of information that burned with the shack in those woods. It was a unique and complicated situation, and somehow, even then I got the feeling that she and her ally were acting without much desire on their part. It's a dog eat, dog world. I was in their shoes once. Who was I kidding-I still am. Only instead of Texas Hold 'Em, I'm playing Omaha at a different table. A much bigger and solemn table where an extra card up your sleeve would buy you a nice plot of land in a marble orchard.
I breathed in through my mouth and exhaled slowly out of my nose, one hand on the wheel. A green road sign, bright in my headlights for a sixteenth of a second before I drove past, read "Welcome to Pinerich". Not too much further to drive. I lifted the car phone from the dash and pressed two buttons, that would automatically route to the full phone number, which belonged to Diane Betine.
I was her man first. While her father, the First Beta, was my immediate supervisor and had taken me under his wing when Leonem Rubrum left me all but dead, he and his daughters ideals didn't always seem to align.. and somehow, I ended up answering to Diane more often than him these days. First of all, who could say no to a woman on a mission. Secondly, who could say no to Diane. As beautiful and elegant as she was intelligent, fierce and determined. If she said, "jump off a cliff", I'd ask, "freefall or dive?". I listened to the phone ring, two, three times, more... she was likely busy, and if so, I'd show up, business as usual.
Quote from Mae on April 20, 2019, 8:35 pmFive times the phone rang, then finally an answer came.
"Hello," a woman's voice answered on the other end of the line. It was a voice as pleasant to the ear as polished silver is to the eyes; a calming voice, as gentle as a brook, and as light as a feather falling to the ground. It was a voice of substance, proposing to the mind's eye the image of elegance as untouchable as the highest branches of the noble beech tree, and as long lasting as the bedrock of the sea.
Five times the phone rang, then finally an answer came.
"Hello," a woman's voice answered on the other end of the line. It was a voice as pleasant to the ear as polished silver is to the eyes; a calming voice, as gentle as a brook, and as light as a feather falling to the ground. It was a voice of substance, proposing to the mind's eye the image of elegance as untouchable as the highest branches of the noble beech tree, and as long lasting as the bedrock of the sea.
Quote from Adriana on April 21, 2019, 1:47 am"Oh, I'm sorry about that, miss... I must have the wrong number." straight faced, as straight faced as a dog snoot could be, "But, say, dear, while I've got you on the line-tell me-" I whipped out a pretty good upstate New Yorker accent, in a pinch, "-do you happen to be America's sweetheart? Because I'm simply charmed." I kept one hand on the wheel, the car phone in the crick of my neck, if only out of habit. Turns out, when your ears seem to be about a yard from the base of your neck, it doesn't do too much good.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that, miss... I must have the wrong number." straight faced, as straight faced as a dog snoot could be, "But, say, dear, while I've got you on the line-tell me-" I whipped out a pretty good upstate New Yorker accent, in a pinch, "-do you happen to be America's sweetheart? Because I'm simply charmed." I kept one hand on the wheel, the car phone in the crick of my neck, if only out of habit. Turns out, when your ears seem to be about a yard from the base of your neck, it doesn't do too much good.
Quote from Mae on April 22, 2019, 4:51 pm"Actaeon." The voice on the other end replied with unaltered perspicacity. "The evident lack of divulgence among my associates has left me wondering what became of you. I presume my father has given you sufficient time for recovery and that you are in good health."
"Actaeon." The voice on the other end replied with unaltered perspicacity. "The evident lack of divulgence among my associates has left me wondering what became of you. I presume my father has given you sufficient time for recovery and that you are in good health."
Quote from Adriana on April 22, 2019, 7:37 pmSomething caught in me when she said my name. Not because she knew who I was-I did say she was intelligent, after all, not discrediting my accent which I was sure was spot on. It felt like that last draw of breath before the roller coaster drops; tangibly suspended in time, temporary peace with the promise of thrill.
"Aces, little lady." I stifled a cough in my throat, but it backfired like an old lemon and came out some contorted sneeze/snort hybrid that left my throat feeling worse than if I had just hacked it out. Thankfully I managed to cover the mouthpiece of the phone against my shoulder beforehand to save some dignity. I cleared my throat and put the phone back up to my ear.
"And yourself?... The evident lack of divulgence among my associates left my wondering what became of you." I came to a stop at a light. Not too much further. "Should have been me." now that I thought about it, I still didn't know who fired the dart..
Something caught in me when she said my name. Not because she knew who I was-I did say she was intelligent, after all, not discrediting my accent which I was sure was spot on. It felt like that last draw of breath before the roller coaster drops; tangibly suspended in time, temporary peace with the promise of thrill.
"Aces, little lady." I stifled a cough in my throat, but it backfired like an old lemon and came out some contorted sneeze/snort hybrid that left my throat feeling worse than if I had just hacked it out. Thankfully I managed to cover the mouthpiece of the phone against my shoulder beforehand to save some dignity. I cleared my throat and put the phone back up to my ear.
"And yourself?... The evident lack of divulgence among my associates left my wondering what became of you." I came to a stop at a light. Not too much further. "Should have been me." now that I thought about it, I still didn't know who fired the dart..
Quote from Mae on April 27, 2019, 10:57 am"Don't let that trouble you." The soft voice on the other line replied. "The target, after all, was not selected by fate, but by design. Of that, I feel most certain. Yet, I should worry for you. A man like you, unable to rest on the best of days, and now with so much spare time on your hands... It must be killing you."
"Well, pity to survive an armed raid only to die of boredom. I have a little game you can play. Are you interested?"
"Don't let that trouble you." The soft voice on the other line replied. "The target, after all, was not selected by fate, but by design. Of that, I feel most certain. Yet, I should worry for you. A man like you, unable to rest on the best of days, and now with so much spare time on your hands... It must be killing you."
"Well, pity to survive an armed raid only to die of boredom. I have a little game you can play. Are you interested?"
Quote from Adriana on May 4, 2019, 9:09 pm"Killing me physically and figuratively," I responded evenly, "I'm essentially a zombie at this point." I added. "What sort of game do you have in mind?"
"Killing me physically and figuratively," I responded evenly, "I'm essentially a zombie at this point." I added. "What sort of game do you have in mind?"
Quote from Mae on May 4, 2019, 9:39 pm"There's a container truck coming in this morning." The woman replied. "Its scheduled to stop at the resting depot on the south side of town. The container is unmarked. You'll know the truck by a red tractor and silver detailing. Find and speak to the driver, his name is Jack Moren. He'll give you your first card. You'll have to be careful, however, as he is not what we call friendly to the race. Use caution, and let me know what you turn up."
"There's a container truck coming in this morning." The woman replied. "Its scheduled to stop at the resting depot on the south side of town. The container is unmarked. You'll know the truck by a red tractor and silver detailing. Find and speak to the driver, his name is Jack Moren. He'll give you your first card. You'll have to be careful, however, as he is not what we call friendly to the race. Use caution, and let me know what you turn up."
