( Author's Note: Follow the bouncing ball....The Seer's Tower, The List of Names, and Cousin-Caller. )
I need a respite from this noise The distant roar of static oceans Give me a haven from this bedlam And let my senses rust away - Assemblage 23
Red Dragon Inn: Out Front Day One
Cobble paved the way through busy city streets, until at last the seer came upon the Inn. Lantern light illuminated her soft features, wrapped in layers to keep out the cold. Slipper shoes lasted better than expected in such weather, proving their dexterity as well as her own as she leapt from stone to stone, skipping over threes and fours and fives, humming as she did.
They spoke.
"Mm?" Her game of skip-that-cobble was cut short by the sudden stopping of those feet. She stiffened, then glanced down, large off-blue eyes falling to one stone in particular. Hesitant, she gave a look around, then ducked. Squatting, then sitting on her heels, she murmured to the pavement.
She leaned forward, an easy motion, save for the shifting overcoat. It fell over her shoulders and bunched at her neck as she lowered herself, until at last her mouth was just inches from the stone. Then, she turned, one elegant ear placed just at its center, and there, she listened.
Cigar smoke tainted the air. The seer gave no notice.
"Slither, you say?" Seconds ticked by, measured by the clucking of her tongue.
Instantly, she withdrew, settling back onto her heels in the dirt. Aqua eyes lifted, filled with secrets though obscured by fog. They sought answers in the sky, but the sky was silent, for the most part.
Not all was silent.
"Psst' Girly, girl, what?s the rock saying?"
The inquiry belonged to one Mr. Howe, of the law firm DCH. Alerted, and perhaps slightly shaken, she turned toward him. He had stepped out of the shadows and settled down in front of her without warning, and though his smile seemed charming, the venom was still there.
"The stones announce your name, Snakeskin." Her tone was singsong for the moment, but sharp, each syllable short and sweet.
He blinked. "Oh, I see. So the stone thinks my name is snakeskin. I fear the stone has misled you sweet girl. I know your cousin, the Lady Tara Longden. She's a....friend of mine. And you would be...?"
The wind issued a warning, tossing two-toned curls atop her head. As if to answer, she rose. The drifting air rustled the coat at her knees.
"Friend of the Cousin?" That question bordered on blasphemy. She shots him a half-smile, painted quite perfectly on her pretty little face. "I am Victoria, and you are Snakeskin."
True name. Unwise. Might as well be Ultrinnan.
"Ahh, Victoria. What a pretty name indeed." The respectable bow of his head was matched with the offer of his hand. "It is a pleasure to be sure, dear Victoria. And alas, although your....friend the rock seems to think my name is such, it's Mister Howe. You can call me Mr. Howe."
"The stones rarely do lie, save for when the rain drowns their voices or when sets of heavy hooves trample all over. I do naut think it best to be a stone in the road. Your feet do naut threaten them so, because they are fake." Her chin lifted with some element of pride and she crossed her arms at her middle, thus avoiding the connection.
"But you are Mister Howe, as you like," she added.
"Why, thank you dear Victoria. Might I ask, how long have you been speaking to ah' Uh. Stones?"
Tense as his inquiries intensified, stress was building along her spine. She looked at him, square in the eyes, and then further, as if to peel back his secrets. Gelatinous tissue gave way to blood and their vessels, and the hordes of spiraling connective chords that linked back to his brain. There, she delved, little thief she was.
"Since the fog rolled in," she whispered, and even as those words were given breath and sound and body, she was there, standing very still, and stealing snippets of secrets.
But the seer's invasion was thwarted by Howe's sudden realization.
"What are you doing GIRL"!" Realization gave birth to shouting, and as he continued to glorify his outrage, he started for her, his intentions clear.
"HOW DARE YOU"!"
One second, she was just a strange girl, staring at him from her place along the road, her face marked by moonlight, her eyes marred by obvious madness. And then, the facade slipped, and she was found out! With a sharp and earth-shattering scream, she sidestepped and launched herself back upon the road, scrambling for higher ground.
"Stolen names! Stolen names!" She yelled back. There's a mockery to this latest fragmented exclamation. Half hoping to cause a distraction, she headed backwards, on knees and hands, toward the brush.
But he followed.
"WHAT GAMES Are These"! What Kind of Creature Are YOU"! Not Angel. Nor Demon!"
He has your scent!
Not angel, nor demon, and this was true. The girl looked strikingly Elvin, save for her taller stature, but at the mention of "Angel" she was frozen.
"Name-like-bells," she whispered.
But cue the cavalry. An audience was gathering just as the blood began to drain from all the fine features of her face. Alysia Skye, Lucien Mallorek (affectionately known as Lucky), Sylvia Nightshade, Guthorm Othinsson, and Erin Dunbridge were spilling into the street, one by one, two by two, some taking to the shadows, others, like Guthorm, moving toward Howe.
"WHO Owns YOU, GIRL?" He roared, nearing her hiding place. Fear was a small obstruction to her flight. On the move again, and ducking into the sanctuary alongside of the road, she vanished, lost beneath a spray of leaves, though every now and then there was a snapping of a twig.
"HOWE!" It was Guthorm. He was gaining speed.
Howe was frantic in his search, bearing down on the smallest sound. "Where did she GO"!"
Unfortunately, the seer was not dressed in camouflage. Far from it. Her loud display of color was an obvious hindrance to any attempt at hiding, though the overcoat shielded her somewhat. Caught between two bushes littered with bright red berries, she stayed put, the psychotic lawyer none too far.
"I WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE, CHILD! HOW DARE YOU"!" Fortunately for Viki, the forest gave her adequate protection. Her scent was lost with the thousand other smells, the dirt and the damp, flora and fauna. Nevertheless, he shouted for her. "WHAT ARE YOU?"
Luckily, Guthorm reached him at last and grabbed him by the shoulder. Surprised and glaring, Howe turned, then calmed and spoke his name.
The distraction came at the most beneficial time, as one Sylvia Nightshade dispatched one of her guards, and he moved toward the brush, dangerously close to Viki's hiding place. Sylvia's guard was like a spotlight on her sanctuary. Hissing a curse, the seer dodged, then crawled between a tree stump and a fallen log. In the moss, in the mud, she lay, counting the march of time with every loud heartbeat.
Guthorm continued to distract Howe before the others could move in.
"Away!" He ordered, pulling him out of the brush and back to the road.
"Yes, yes, of course. She took me by surprise," said the lawyer as Guthorm tugged him along. Together, the two slipped away, and though Viki couldn't get a visual on either, she did make out snippets of their conversation.
"What I have is??
But that was all. And since the shouting had stopped, she was content to lie in the muck of the undergrowth. As their footfalls became softer still, she waited, drawing symbols in the dirt, which, if ever examined, mirrored some distant constellation.
When at last the weeds whispered signs of safety, her head shot up.
I need a respite from this noise The distant roar of static oceans Give me a haven from this bedlam And let my senses rust away - Assemblage 23
Red Dragon Inn: Out Front Day One
Cobble paved the way through busy city streets, until at last the seer came upon the Inn. Lantern light illuminated her soft features, wrapped in layers to keep out the cold. Slipper shoes lasted better than expected in such weather, proving their dexterity as well as her own as she leapt from stone to stone, skipping over threes and fours and fives, humming as she did.
They spoke.
"Mm?" Her game of skip-that-cobble was cut short by the sudden stopping of those feet. She stiffened, then glanced down, large off-blue eyes falling to one stone in particular. Hesitant, she gave a look around, then ducked. Squatting, then sitting on her heels, she murmured to the pavement.
She leaned forward, an easy motion, save for the shifting overcoat. It fell over her shoulders and bunched at her neck as she lowered herself, until at last her mouth was just inches from the stone. Then, she turned, one elegant ear placed just at its center, and there, she listened.
Cigar smoke tainted the air. The seer gave no notice.
"Slither, you say?" Seconds ticked by, measured by the clucking of her tongue.
Instantly, she withdrew, settling back onto her heels in the dirt. Aqua eyes lifted, filled with secrets though obscured by fog. They sought answers in the sky, but the sky was silent, for the most part.
Not all was silent.
"Psst' Girly, girl, what?s the rock saying?"
The inquiry belonged to one Mr. Howe, of the law firm DCH. Alerted, and perhaps slightly shaken, she turned toward him. He had stepped out of the shadows and settled down in front of her without warning, and though his smile seemed charming, the venom was still there.
"The stones announce your name, Snakeskin." Her tone was singsong for the moment, but sharp, each syllable short and sweet.
He blinked. "Oh, I see. So the stone thinks my name is snakeskin. I fear the stone has misled you sweet girl. I know your cousin, the Lady Tara Longden. She's a....friend of mine. And you would be...?"
The wind issued a warning, tossing two-toned curls atop her head. As if to answer, she rose. The drifting air rustled the coat at her knees.
"Friend of the Cousin?" That question bordered on blasphemy. She shots him a half-smile, painted quite perfectly on her pretty little face. "I am Victoria, and you are Snakeskin."
True name. Unwise. Might as well be Ultrinnan.
"Ahh, Victoria. What a pretty name indeed." The respectable bow of his head was matched with the offer of his hand. "It is a pleasure to be sure, dear Victoria. And alas, although your....friend the rock seems to think my name is such, it's Mister Howe. You can call me Mr. Howe."
"The stones rarely do lie, save for when the rain drowns their voices or when sets of heavy hooves trample all over. I do naut think it best to be a stone in the road. Your feet do naut threaten them so, because they are fake." Her chin lifted with some element of pride and she crossed her arms at her middle, thus avoiding the connection.
"But you are Mister Howe, as you like," she added.
"Why, thank you dear Victoria. Might I ask, how long have you been speaking to ah' Uh. Stones?"
Tense as his inquiries intensified, stress was building along her spine. She looked at him, square in the eyes, and then further, as if to peel back his secrets. Gelatinous tissue gave way to blood and their vessels, and the hordes of spiraling connective chords that linked back to his brain. There, she delved, little thief she was.
"Since the fog rolled in," she whispered, and even as those words were given breath and sound and body, she was there, standing very still, and stealing snippets of secrets.
But the seer's invasion was thwarted by Howe's sudden realization.
"What are you doing GIRL"!" Realization gave birth to shouting, and as he continued to glorify his outrage, he started for her, his intentions clear.
"HOW DARE YOU"!"
One second, she was just a strange girl, staring at him from her place along the road, her face marked by moonlight, her eyes marred by obvious madness. And then, the facade slipped, and she was found out! With a sharp and earth-shattering scream, she sidestepped and launched herself back upon the road, scrambling for higher ground.
"Stolen names! Stolen names!" She yelled back. There's a mockery to this latest fragmented exclamation. Half hoping to cause a distraction, she headed backwards, on knees and hands, toward the brush.
But he followed.
"WHAT GAMES Are These"! What Kind of Creature Are YOU"! Not Angel. Nor Demon!"
He has your scent!
Not angel, nor demon, and this was true. The girl looked strikingly Elvin, save for her taller stature, but at the mention of "Angel" she was frozen.
"Name-like-bells," she whispered.
But cue the cavalry. An audience was gathering just as the blood began to drain from all the fine features of her face. Alysia Skye, Lucien Mallorek (affectionately known as Lucky), Sylvia Nightshade, Guthorm Othinsson, and Erin Dunbridge were spilling into the street, one by one, two by two, some taking to the shadows, others, like Guthorm, moving toward Howe.
"WHO Owns YOU, GIRL?" He roared, nearing her hiding place. Fear was a small obstruction to her flight. On the move again, and ducking into the sanctuary alongside of the road, she vanished, lost beneath a spray of leaves, though every now and then there was a snapping of a twig.
"HOWE!" It was Guthorm. He was gaining speed.
Howe was frantic in his search, bearing down on the smallest sound. "Where did she GO"!"
Unfortunately, the seer was not dressed in camouflage. Far from it. Her loud display of color was an obvious hindrance to any attempt at hiding, though the overcoat shielded her somewhat. Caught between two bushes littered with bright red berries, she stayed put, the psychotic lawyer none too far.
"I WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE, CHILD! HOW DARE YOU"!" Fortunately for Viki, the forest gave her adequate protection. Her scent was lost with the thousand other smells, the dirt and the damp, flora and fauna. Nevertheless, he shouted for her. "WHAT ARE YOU?"
Luckily, Guthorm reached him at last and grabbed him by the shoulder. Surprised and glaring, Howe turned, then calmed and spoke his name.
The distraction came at the most beneficial time, as one Sylvia Nightshade dispatched one of her guards, and he moved toward the brush, dangerously close to Viki's hiding place. Sylvia's guard was like a spotlight on her sanctuary. Hissing a curse, the seer dodged, then crawled between a tree stump and a fallen log. In the moss, in the mud, she lay, counting the march of time with every loud heartbeat.
Guthorm continued to distract Howe before the others could move in.
"Away!" He ordered, pulling him out of the brush and back to the road.
"Yes, yes, of course. She took me by surprise," said the lawyer as Guthorm tugged him along. Together, the two slipped away, and though Viki couldn't get a visual on either, she did make out snippets of their conversation.
"What I have is??
But that was all. And since the shouting had stopped, she was content to lie in the muck of the undergrowth. As their footfalls became softer still, she waited, drawing symbols in the dirt, which, if ever examined, mirrored some distant constellation.
When at last the weeds whispered signs of safety, her head shot up.