Twice in His Prime (CA - Diane & Melinda)
Quote from Mae on March 5, 2022, 7:45 pm[June 19th 1997]
Parked off the corner of a sullen brick building was a black car. Presently, the driver was nowhere to be seen.Diane sat quietly on the passenger side, flexing her hand under the dappled orange light of the streetlamp through a rain-speckled windshield. Pain surged from her fingertips as she opened her palm. At it's furthest extent, her hand could only open half as wide as the other without spritely pain striking randomly through her upper and lower arm. She hissed softly through her teeth as she let the hand relax and rest in her lap. Even after two months, the arm still plagued her.
A shadow approached the right side of the car and Diane covered her pain. The door opened, and a black umbrella was presented over her head. The young man on the other side of it was dressed in a black coat and cap, with his spiked blond hair peeking out under the rim.
"Thank you, Edward." Diane said softly as she swept herself out of the car.
The young man led her to the door of the brick building and opened it to let her in. The sound of loud music echoing out of the dark hallway came out to meet them. Standing immediately on the other side of the door was a large, round man in dark glasses and clothes. He beckoned the two to enter and the door was closed behind them. Then the young man led Diane down the black hallway to the fluttering neon lights at the end. The music grew louder and louder until they entered the lively nightclub where bright lights showered tables of people, a liquor bar, and a live stage performer. - Well, people, was the word, but the smell that filled the room from the floor to ceiling was anything but. No man or woman in the room was an ordinary human being. This, was a den of wolves.
Diane allowed her escort to lead her toward the bar where he seated her near the stage at the corner of the room. Then he sat down beside her and the two were joined by several others.
"Hello boys," Diane said with a smile and a downward tilt of her chin. "Have you missed me?"
Diane's "boys" each smiled a toothy grin and slid into chairs around her table. Each of the young men and women at the table represented a different faction of the Svalnaglas pack. They were Talkane boys, and Beulanncan boys. Edward (Eddy) was a Baltronan boy, and Reggedae's boys were there too. Other factions were also present in the form of young souls with eager eyes and smiling lips.
"As you know," Diane said, "We lost Amos last month. But he didn't leave us without a proper farewell." Diane placed several pages on the table and lifted her eyes to the company. "Tomorrow is the full moon. You all have your work to do."
At this word, many of the young people looked at each other and left the table without another word, grinning all the same. Of those that remained was one Morty Norc of the Talkanes, Eddy, and a few others.
"Morty," Diane said. "I understand Talkane does not have an heir. His wife and child died in birth, and his favor has wavered among his elites for nearly three decades. Who presently is his second-in-command?"
"That would be Gabriel." Morty answered.
"Is he here tonight?"
"No. Talkane had a job for him tonight. But his girl's here."
"Which one?"
Morty gestured with his eyes to the stage and Diane's attention followed to the wild-haired woman singing "Heaven is a Place on Earth" to the crowd. Flaming blond curls caught the neon light behind her and danced above her head in a wild wind. As she sang, her whole body sang with her in fervent motions and vibration. Presently, the song ended and the room rang with claps and cheers. The wild-haired woman was red in the face, with moisture grabbing at her tangled hair, yet she smiled from ear to ear at her fellow musicians.
"How appropriate. Excuse me," Diane said. She picked the pages off the table and approached the stage. The vocalist was taking a drink while the drummer and guitarist reset.
"Do you take requests?" Diane said loud enough to be heard by the vocalist but not the crowd.
"Sure do, sugar." The woman replied. "What's on your mind?"
"This is the final composition of the late Baltronan Abdaerus Ambridge. He will be honored at tomorrow's Howl, and I wonder if you might play this piece."
The vocalist took the piece and gave it a look over. "Let me see. Just a moment, sugar." She said, passing the pages along to the other musicians on stage. After a brief glance and a few nods, the vocalist returned with a smile. "We'll see what we can do, sugar. Have a seat."
Diane returned to her chair and watched the band make adjustments to their instruments on stage. Then the vocalist stepped forward and spoke loudly into the microphone.
"This next one is for our good friend Amos Ambridge and the families Baltronan. As any of us up here know, good music is like a living breathing thing itself. And so, as long as we keep playing our music, his soul will never die. Here's one for Amos!"
Diane leaned into her chair as the lights changed and a somber feeling entered the room. When the music began on electric keys, it was nothing like the passionate classical tone that always poured so perfervidly out of it's writer. Yet, the style and vigor of the raging musicians on stage was not a disgrace to it, for the music came perhaps with different feeling but the same force. Diane smiled.
"Morty," she said under the sound of the music. "What was Talkane's task for Gabriel tonight?"
"I don't know," Morty replied likewise, "But I heard something about a man hunt, and some business between Talkane and your father..."
Diane's smile deepened. "Put an ear in for me, Morty... Let me know what you hear."
[June 19th 1997]
Parked off the corner of a sullen brick building was a black car. Presently, the driver was nowhere to be seen.
Diane sat quietly on the passenger side, flexing her hand under the dappled orange light of the streetlamp through a rain-speckled windshield. Pain surged from her fingertips as she opened her palm. At it's furthest extent, her hand could only open half as wide as the other without spritely pain striking randomly through her upper and lower arm. She hissed softly through her teeth as she let the hand relax and rest in her lap. Even after two months, the arm still plagued her.
A shadow approached the right side of the car and Diane covered her pain. The door opened, and a black umbrella was presented over her head. The young man on the other side of it was dressed in a black coat and cap, with his spiked blond hair peeking out under the rim.
"Thank you, Edward." Diane said softly as she swept herself out of the car.
The young man led her to the door of the brick building and opened it to let her in. The sound of loud music echoing out of the dark hallway came out to meet them. Standing immediately on the other side of the door was a large, round man in dark glasses and clothes. He beckoned the two to enter and the door was closed behind them. Then the young man led Diane down the black hallway to the fluttering neon lights at the end. The music grew louder and louder until they entered the lively nightclub where bright lights showered tables of people, a liquor bar, and a live stage performer. - Well, people, was the word, but the smell that filled the room from the floor to ceiling was anything but. No man or woman in the room was an ordinary human being. This, was a den of wolves.
Diane allowed her escort to lead her toward the bar where he seated her near the stage at the corner of the room. Then he sat down beside her and the two were joined by several others.
"Hello boys," Diane said with a smile and a downward tilt of her chin. "Have you missed me?"
Diane's "boys" each smiled a toothy grin and slid into chairs around her table. Each of the young men and women at the table represented a different faction of the Svalnaglas pack. They were Talkane boys, and Beulanncan boys. Edward (Eddy) was a Baltronan boy, and Reggedae's boys were there too. Other factions were also present in the form of young souls with eager eyes and smiling lips.
"As you know," Diane said, "We lost Amos last month. But he didn't leave us without a proper farewell." Diane placed several pages on the table and lifted her eyes to the company. "Tomorrow is the full moon. You all have your work to do."
At this word, many of the young people looked at each other and left the table without another word, grinning all the same. Of those that remained was one Morty Norc of the Talkanes, Eddy, and a few others.
"Morty," Diane said. "I understand Talkane does not have an heir. His wife and child died in birth, and his favor has wavered among his elites for nearly three decades. Who presently is his second-in-command?"
"That would be Gabriel." Morty answered.
"Is he here tonight?"
"No. Talkane had a job for him tonight. But his girl's here."
"Which one?"
Morty gestured with his eyes to the stage and Diane's attention followed to the wild-haired woman singing "Heaven is a Place on Earth" to the crowd. Flaming blond curls caught the neon light behind her and danced above her head in a wild wind. As she sang, her whole body sang with her in fervent motions and vibration. Presently, the song ended and the room rang with claps and cheers. The wild-haired woman was red in the face, with moisture grabbing at her tangled hair, yet she smiled from ear to ear at her fellow musicians.
"How appropriate. Excuse me," Diane said. She picked the pages off the table and approached the stage. The vocalist was taking a drink while the drummer and guitarist reset.
"Do you take requests?" Diane said loud enough to be heard by the vocalist but not the crowd.
"Sure do, sugar." The woman replied. "What's on your mind?"
"This is the final composition of the late Baltronan Abdaerus Ambridge. He will be honored at tomorrow's Howl, and I wonder if you might play this piece."
The vocalist took the piece and gave it a look over. "Let me see. Just a moment, sugar." She said, passing the pages along to the other musicians on stage. After a brief glance and a few nods, the vocalist returned with a smile. "We'll see what we can do, sugar. Have a seat."
Diane returned to her chair and watched the band make adjustments to their instruments on stage. Then the vocalist stepped forward and spoke loudly into the microphone.
"This next one is for our good friend Amos Ambridge and the families Baltronan. As any of us up here know, good music is like a living breathing thing itself. And so, as long as we keep playing our music, his soul will never die. Here's one for Amos!"
Diane leaned into her chair as the lights changed and a somber feeling entered the room. When the music began on electric keys, it was nothing like the passionate classical tone that always poured so perfervidly out of it's writer. Yet, the style and vigor of the raging musicians on stage was not a disgrace to it, for the music came perhaps with different feeling but the same force. Diane smiled.
"Morty," she said under the sound of the music. "What was Talkane's task for Gabriel tonight?"
"I don't know," Morty replied likewise, "But I heard something about a man hunt, and some business between Talkane and your father..."
Diane's smile deepened. "Put an ear in for me, Morty... Let me know what you hear."
Quote from Mae on March 5, 2022, 7:50 pm[August 1st 1997]
In 1902 the Svalnaglas drew a line around their territory, omitting the Varnished Hills.
In the late 1940s, another organization sprouted up around a peculiarity found there; the Phantom Herb, Exspiravit Herba; Ghost Grass.Now the latter sought an audience of the former. Could it perhaps be related?
Diane was sitting under an umbrella on Honey Lane and Fifth on another rainy day. Lightening cut through the sky as she sat under the shadow of her mother's tomb, quietly reading.
[August 1st 1997]
In 1902 the Svalnaglas drew a line around their territory, omitting the Varnished Hills.
In the late 1940s, another organization sprouted up around a peculiarity found there; the Phantom Herb, Exspiravit Herba; Ghost Grass.Now the latter sought an audience of the former. Could it perhaps be related?
Diane was sitting under an umbrella on Honey Lane and Fifth on another rainy day. Lightening cut through the sky as she sat under the shadow of her mother's tomb, quietly reading.
Quote from Indy on March 6, 2022, 9:54 pmIn the dreariest hour, she arrived. It were as though it had been a thing of design - yet in truth Melinda had never put much stake to dramatic effect. It had simply been poor timing, and yet never would the machinations of the world stall for one miserable day.
So she rounded the corner, dressed from head-to-toe in black. A black London fog reached to mid-calf with a black hood, followed by dark tights, and nimble black boots. She held close her umbrella, likewise matched in ink-black. She wore the colors of darkness upon her person - and that had been for an effect, of sorts. Yet never was it to arrive upon the scene dressed like a half-drowned crow. She had stumbled earlier along the path, and some mud still clung to the front-face of the jacket.
Thus more bedraggled than she had intended, she settled herself into the apposing seat of Diane. She tapped her umbrella to the ground and closed it, then held silent to the sounds of pattering rain and the dripping rivulets of water from her umbrella and jacket. Shadows hung under her eyes and she starred stiffly to the lightning along the horizon - in the pause there was rest.
In the dreariest hour, she arrived. It were as though it had been a thing of design - yet in truth Melinda had never put much stake to dramatic effect. It had simply been poor timing, and yet never would the machinations of the world stall for one miserable day.
So she rounded the corner, dressed from head-to-toe in black. A black London fog reached to mid-calf with a black hood, followed by dark tights, and nimble black boots. She held close her umbrella, likewise matched in ink-black. She wore the colors of darkness upon her person - and that had been for an effect, of sorts. Yet never was it to arrive upon the scene dressed like a half-drowned crow. She had stumbled earlier along the path, and some mud still clung to the front-face of the jacket.
Thus more bedraggled than she had intended, she settled herself into the apposing seat of Diane. She tapped her umbrella to the ground and closed it, then held silent to the sounds of pattering rain and the dripping rivulets of water from her umbrella and jacket. Shadows hung under her eyes and she starred stiffly to the lightning along the horizon - in the pause there was rest.
Quote from Indy on March 19, 2022, 10:00 pm"Do you fear endings, Miss Betine?" Melinda said abruptly, breaking the silence of the raindrops. Her expression was casual as she asked the question, her eyes alight on the book the woman had been reading.
"Do you fear endings, Miss Betine?" Melinda said abruptly, breaking the silence of the raindrops. Her expression was casual as she asked the question, her eyes alight on the book the woman had been reading.
Quote from Mae on March 19, 2022, 10:33 pm"No." Diane answered, turning down the corner on her page and closing the book. "I can only be disappointed by an ending."
"No." Diane answered, turning down the corner on her page and closing the book. "I can only be disappointed by an ending."
Quote from Indy on March 30, 2022, 11:25 pm"Spoken by one who has never had cause to fear the future," Melinda mused, glancing at the cover of Diane's now-closed book, "Tell me, are you the kind of person who skips to the end of a story in order to determine whether it is worth reading?"
"Spoken by one who has never had cause to fear the future," Melinda mused, glancing at the cover of Diane's now-closed book, "Tell me, are you the kind of person who skips to the end of a story in order to determine whether it is worth reading?"
Quote from Mae on March 30, 2022, 11:56 pmDiane looked at the cover of her book as well. The book's title was The Diadem of Nemean Leo. Diane's dark lashes flashed right as she looked on Melinda's countenance.
"If only it were that simple." She replied.
Diane looked at the cover of her book as well. The book's title was The Diadem of Nemean Leo. Diane's dark lashes flashed right as she looked on Melinda's countenance.
"If only it were that simple." She replied.
Quote from Indy on April 8, 2022, 3:49 pm"Isn't it?" Melinda replied, glancing once more at the title of Diane's book, "It seems to me many stories have been told before. Where once it has been told, it has been told a thousand times. Why, even that title itself perhaps pulls from the ancient woes of the hero Hercules against the Nemean lion. The stories of people are much the same - ultimately derivative in nature".
Melinda crossed her legs, resting her arms across her lap. It was a coy move to hide the mud-stain across her skirt. Though with an upright glance to Diane's eyes, it seemed as though she were daring the woman to comment further.
"And what of beginnings, Miss Betine? What bearing do you say they have to the ending that follows?"
"Isn't it?" Melinda replied, glancing once more at the title of Diane's book, "It seems to me many stories have been told before. Where once it has been told, it has been told a thousand times. Why, even that title itself perhaps pulls from the ancient woes of the hero Hercules against the Nemean lion. The stories of people are much the same - ultimately derivative in nature".
Melinda crossed her legs, resting her arms across her lap. It was a coy move to hide the mud-stain across her skirt. Though with an upright glance to Diane's eyes, it seemed as though she were daring the woman to comment further.
"And what of beginnings, Miss Betine? What bearing do you say they have to the ending that follows?"
Quote from Mae on April 9, 2022, 10:32 amDiane slightly narrowed her eyes at the ground. Surely these questions had a point. Was Melinda gaging her audience or leading up to something? Diane was not easily led but she would allow it to a certain end.
As patient as she was precise, Diane replied. "In written novels, I would say the beginning must have some bearing on the end. But in life, keeping with your sentiments, the first is only the foreshadow of the last."
Diane slightly narrowed her eyes at the ground. Surely these questions had a point. Was Melinda gaging her audience or leading up to something? Diane was not easily led but she would allow it to a certain end.
As patient as she was precise, Diane replied. "In written novels, I would say the beginning must have some bearing on the end. But in life, keeping with your sentiments, the first is only the foreshadow of the last."
