f_storyteller

NaNoWriMo: day 10

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 02:37:20 GMT

She was actually enjoying her stay in her new home, and she rather liked being Mrs. Lanway. In truth, when her dear husband had come home with chocolates, she felt like they could easily pass as newlyweds. Though Christine was still cold to her, perhaps she was beginning to open up her heart. Perhaps soon she would be utterly captivated by Lenora, and make her conquest all that much easier. A feral grin on her face, she ate another chocolate.

Suddenly, she heard a crash from down stairs, and Emelia screaming. Lenora rushed to the banister to see what the matter was, but when she began to go down the stairs, she heard Christine yell,

“Lenora, get back in the room! This will be over soon!”

She headed back into the bedroom and ran to the window. Down below, she could see the outlines of a group of figures, too shrouded in night to discern their appearances or identities. But Lenora knew them for what they were.

She gasped, “By the gods themselves, it’s the NSA.”

Lenora stepped away from the window and instead sat at her vanity, all in a panic. What if they tried to break into the house? Would they just vandalize their things, or would they murder her and Christine? Probably even Emelia wouldn’t be spared, all for working at the wrong house and for the wrong people.

Nicholas’ Shadow Alliance, or the NSA, was a powerful group of Yydanist thugs- a religious mafia that stole from and terrorized non-believers in Cloginsmire. They murdered prostitutes in the streets, and killed influential non-believers.

“They probably don’t even know about me being a non-believer,” she thought suddenly, “It’s Christine they’re after.” She took a rather long letter-opener from the desk, and hurried downstairs. Emelia was nowhere in sight, and Christine suddenly emerged from another room, a revolver in hand.

“Get back, Lenora,” she said, taking aim though a hole in the window. She pulled the trigger and a loud blast of sound pervaded the air. Lenora heard the sudden panic from the NSA cronies, as they took off from the residence.

Christine sighed, and then shouted, “Emelia, they’re gone, you can come out now.”

The maid timidly came out of a small closet in the hallway, and scurried over to the shattered glass on the floor from when the NSA broke the window.

“I’ve never seen NSA agents before,” Lenora said quietly, “that really was terrifying.”

“You’ll get used to it after it happens a few more times,” Christine all but snapped. She picked up the rock that had been used to break through the window. A note was attached to it, which Christine read out loud,

“Death to all those who oppose the Prophet of Yydan, Nicholas Arken, and death to all who do not tremble at the wrath of Yydan- what a load of rubbish this is.” She tore the note in half and threw the pieces on the ground for Emelia to sweep up.

“You mean this isn’t the first time they’ve come here?” Lenora asked in shock.

“Of course not, they come every month or so in an attempt to terrorize me. Needless to say, they always seem to run off when I get out my revolver.” She said, holding up the weapon.

Lenora took a step away from it out of reflex, and Christine said, exasperated, “Don’t worry; it’s not full of real bullets. It only needs to sound like a gun, to get rid of that riff-raff. I’d rather not kill one of them by mistake.”

And Lenora knew why- many of the NSA agents were said to be law enforcers who became vigilantes at dark. The Night Watch turned a blind eye to them and sometimes even overtly supported their actions. Were Christine to actually kill a member of the NSA, her argument of vandalism against her would fall on deaf ears, especially to the Yydanist public. And while the Church of Yydan claimed that it was not at all affiliated with such violent activists, there were whispers about where the church received its funds.

“Wouldn’t a guard-bot be a good investment if this happens so often?” Lenora asked.

“My revolver seems to work fine, and I’d rather not have them think they’re actually getting to me,” Christine said matter-of-factly, “but now I should think we need to order a new window. Perhaps a wiser investment than a guard-bot would be a set of windows with reinforced glass. Or at least a kind that’s easier to clean up and replace.” She said, looking at Emelia, who had almost finished cleaning the glass shards on the floor. “Anyway, I’ll write in the order to be sent tomorrow. Go up to the room, Mrs. Lanway, I’ll be with you shortly.”

Lenora nodded and headed back up to the room.

“Oh, and another thing,” Christine called up, “if you want a proper weapon, I’ll provide you with one, but please don’t take my letter openers from the desk.”

Lenora stared at her, open mouthed, then huffed and trudged back into the room.

When Christine finally made it back up to the bedroom, she saw Lenora was sitting on the bed, with her nightdress on, knees pulled up to her chest and eyes staring off into the distance.

“Lenora?” Christine said softly, “Lenora, are you quite alright?”

She seemed to snap out of her trance at that point. She smiled weakly at Christine and said, “My dear Dr. Lanway, I didn’t hear you come in. Were you coming to bed?”

“Yes, but…you don’t look well.”

“Just tired. Or rather… oh, I don’t know; I’m mentally exhausted but not physically so…it’s hard to describe.”

NaNoWriMo: day 8

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 02:34:34 GMT

WHY DID I NOT POST THIS BEFORE, I AM SUCH A MORON
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"Simplicity is a fool's aesthetic," Lenora sighed, "besides that, it's boring to keep things simple. We're married whether or not by any choice of our circumstances, why not enjoy it?"

"Just drop it, Lenora," Christine said, exhausted. She rolled over and tried to get to sleep, but Lenora pressed the subject.

"I refuse to, Christine," she said stubbornly, "I want to have a happy marriage to you, but I can't if you won't indulge me a little."

"Look, you lecherous little imbecile," Christine hissed, "you might be under the impression that going about kissing another woman is fine and dandy, but I know for a fact that it's an immoral practice, and I won't partake in it. I don't know what has caused such insanity in you, and I promise to cure you of it, but I refuse to simply go along with you and encourage such behavior in the meantime."

"Is it immoral for all the same damn reasons that intimacy of any sort is immoral?" Lenora said hotly. "Is it that you have actual facts to back up your assertion, or is it that you're just afraid to get close to me?"

"Afraid? You think that fear could ever overpower reason in me?" Christine bolted up and glared at Lenora, "Surely you jest. And I don't need to explain any of the complex biological factors that weigh in with all of this. All you need to know is that I'm not willing to participate in any such activities with you. Now good night, Lenora." And at that, Christine put her head on the pillow once more. But relentlessly, Lenora said,

"I'm asking you nicely to give me a kiss before I have another attack. It's for your own safety, you know."

Christine sat up again and looked Lenora square in the eye.

"I'll have you know that if you're bluffing, I will find some way to punish you. And, that once we have some other substitute, I will not be willing to do this for you, but since you've brought up the possibility of you loosing your mind in the middle of the night and attacking me, I will consent." She held up a finger and said sternly, "One kiss. Only one and nothing else past that, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, of course darling." Lenora smiled and brought their faces close together. Then she struck, pressing lips to lips, and holding Christine tightly as she did so. She pushed her down onto the bed and kissed her, open mouthed and hungrily, until Christine pushed her away and gasped for air.

"You...you vile thing! You put your tongue in....ugh, disgusting!"

"You never said what kind of a kiss it had to be," Lenora said sweetly, "and you never said how long it had to last. But thank you for that, darling, I feel much better now."

"Glad to hear it," Christine said sarcastically, "now I'm going to wash my mouth out.” She got up from the bed and stomped over to the adjacent bathroom, muttering and cursing all the while.

Lenora smiled as she snuggled into her covers licking her lips and enjoying the taste of victory. Her eyes were shut as soon as Christine buried back into bed, and she was asleep quite soon after that.

A few days afterward the disturbances began to become commonplace and the Lanway household fell into a new routine. Christine would go to work and Lenora would find some way to occupy herself at home, and Emelia would take care of all the household chores, run off to the temple at midday, and come back in the afternoon. Christine would come home, the two would have dinner, and then, with a goodnight kiss that Christine began to regard with dread, they went to sleep, only to wake up and continue as such ad nauseam.

One day, as Christine was filing away her papers at work, when suddenly she saw Dr. Vorst standing over her, all grins and fine dress and utter annoyance to her.

"What is it, Dr. Vorst?" She asked, agitated.

"Well, now that you're married I've taken a sudden interest in your life. You see, you've been acting a little strangely since your wedding day."

"Strange? You say I've been acting peculiar when peculiar is normal behavior for you! But what do you mean by that, Dr. Vorst?"

"I only mean to say that you once grumpy disposition has gotten even worse ever since you took Miss Edel as your bride. I do believe that there must be something going on in your happy home, and as your colleague and dearest friend, I intend to find some way to help you?"

"Friend?" Christine barked out a laugh, "Don't patronize me, Dr. Vorst, I know that you're just trying to nose into my life for your own personal amusement."

"You wound me, Christopher!" He said in all sincerity, "After all this time, I would've thought that you'd consider me with some closer bond than mere fellow doctors. But it seems I was mistaken. You have my apologies, Dr. Lanway.”

Now of course, Christine felt horrible for saying this to Dr. Vorst, and quickly responded,

"But of course, my apologies...Richard. I didn't know that you were being so sincere about it. Perhaps it is a fault of mine to be hesitant to trust, quick to deny the good in any one, and cautious when speaking of...friendship."

"I see," Dr. Vorst said with softened eyes, "well, it seems to me like you're having difficulties with your wife. Anything worth discussing?"

"No, no, everything is as I expected it would be. Well, it's just that she's... needy."

"In that she wants too many things? I can only expect that from an Edel girl- so used to having what she wants that she forgets that we mortal men do have expendable budgets."

"No, she never asks for anything like that. Come to think of it, she hasn't asked me for so much as a flower or a sweet since she came to my home. But she's needy in that she desires attention from me, attention that I'm unwilling to give her." Christine sighed and sat in her chair. Dr. Vorst pulled up his own chair from behind his desk and sat facing Christine.

NaNoWriMo: day 9

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 14:21:22 GMT

“Well, Christopher,” Dr. Vorst said at last after a short pause, “it seems to me your wife suffers from a lot of things. Boredom, primarily, and some need to feel loved and appreciated by her husband.”

“But I don’t love her,” Dr. Lanway said, “I really don’t care for her. But because we’re married, I don’t want to seem like a cruel, unfeeling sort of husband.”

“Be that as it may,” Dr. Vorst shrugged, “you know that she wants something from you. Whether or not you give it to her is your own affair, but if you want a happy, or at the very least a peaceful marriage, you’d best try to appease her. After all, the power is in your hands in your relationship, she can only do so much against or for you.”

Dr. Lanway ignored how Dr. Vorst’s statement smacked of sexism. It was true though, that women, or those who weren’t disguised as men at any rate, couldn’t deny their husbands much of anything, but men could deny their wives everything, if they so chose. Dr. Lanway was no hypocrite, she was not about to let Lenora suffer for being a woman while she reaped in the benefits of pretending to be a man. But she just couldn’t force herself to give Lenora affection when she had none to give. And she shuddered at the thought of the intimacy Lenora so craved.

“I’ll think about it,” Christine said finally, “and at the very least, I should be able to come up with someway that we can compromise our desires, if at least a little.”

“That makes both of you unhappy, my dear fellow. Wouldn’t it be better to have a happy wife than an unhappy one? I’m sure you wouldn’t have to do much. From what I know of marriage, it’s most important to keep your wife content.”

“You know nothing of marriage, Dr. Vorst.” Christine groaned.

“And neither,” he said with a smirk, “do you, my dear Christopher.”

When Dr. Lanway began the walk home that day, she noticed a slight chill in the air. She pulled her coat a little tighter around her and tried not to focus on the cold. Work was only a few minutes of a walk from home, and vice versa of course. She was almost knocked off balance by a storm of stampeding children on their way in to a confectionary.

“Excuse me, sir,” their nurse said with a curtsey, “the children become most unruly when they pass by the sweet shop.”

“No need, it’s fine,” Christine said, a little distracted. She looked over into the confectionary window and debated on whether or not she should buy something for Lenora. This particular store was known for its exotic chocolates and finely spun tea candies. Perhaps she would appreciate such a gesture, and help to begin something more of a friendship between them.

But then she stopped. Something like sweets, wasn’t that more of a gift between a real husband and wife, or lovers? She didn’t want to give off the wrong impression. True that she didn’t want to hate Lenora forever, that didn’t mean she wanted to encourage her to make advances on Christine.

She didn’t particularly care to see Lenora happy or sad or anything, but she supposed that perhaps ‘breaking the ice’, so to speak, could help kindle some understanding between them. And with understanding came boundaries and the respecting of them. While she was beginning to understand the importance of kisses, she hoped that one day she could substitute herself for a real man, and possibly wean her off needing so much intimate attention. Then, Christine would feel like her job as a doctor was accomplished, and they could live more peacefully and platonically together.

With all that in mind, Christine walked into the candy store and bought a few chocolates, neatly wrapped in a white box. Then she left the store and continued the trek home.

When she arrived back at her house, Lenora greeted her happily, with a hug and proclamations of missing her. Christine gave her an awkward one armed embrace, and then tossed her overcoat, hat, and cane to Emelia.

“And what do you have here?” Lenora asked, “It’s such a pretty package- for a friend? Perhaps it’s for a secret lover?” She said, laughing.

“No, actually, it’s…for you.” She said, offering the box to Lenora. She stood in real shock for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

“Oh, Dr. Lanway, this is such a surprise! Thank you so much!” She took the box and opened it happily.

“Chocolates, how darling! I must be careful not to eat them all at once! You really do spoil me, Dr. Lanway.”

She looked absolutely giddy, and she kept thanking him as they walked into the parlor together. Christine suddenly realized that, with all the tension in the Edel household, and despite growing up in such wealth, Lenora probably had not ever received a present from her aunt, at least not out of the blue like this. The way she was talking about them, she might have expected that she had given her diamonds. They weren’t cheap candies, but by no means were they jewels.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Mrs. Lanway.”

Lenora gave her a hug, a warm and tender embrace before skipping off somewhere in the house. Christine stood there, frozen in the parlor, wondering about Lenora and the joy in her eyes. Then she remembered she still had reports to fill out, and walked into the study, trying her very best to repress the memories of her wife’s moment of bliss.

That night, Lenora was sitting at her vanity that was finally brought from the Edel household. She brushed her hair and hummed; the chocolates sat by her side. She had only eaten one or two out of the twenty-four inside the box. She popped one in her mouth and savored the sweetness, letting the chocolate grow hot inside her mouth and melt. Even after she had swallowed, the taste still lingered.

NaNoWriMo: day 7

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:01:31 GMT

When they arrived at the Lanway household, Lenora was amazed at the quaint neatness of the place. All around were neatly trimmed hedges and gardens. She looked a little more closely, and saw no less than three bot-bots running around to do this work.

Bot-bots were scarcely a foot high, they were miniature automatons, usually circular or spherical in shape and gold or bronze in color, programmed to do simple tasks like trimming plants or shining shoes. They were usually kept by the well-to-do who were not quite well off enough to own actual automatons. Lenora was always delighted by the sight of them; they were endearing little machines that made adorable beeping sounds in greeting humans. Unlike full automatons, they were not programmed to speak words or ask for commands; they automatically did their singular tasks and shut down in their charging stations, usually kept in a shed of some sort, in twenty four hour cycles.

As the carriage halted, the automaton footman opened the carriage door for Dr. and Mrs. Lanway, They both knew better than to accept the offered hand to help them off the steam carriage, sometimes the automatons malfunctioned and could end up breaking one’s fingers. Instead, once Christine stepped down, she took Lenora’s hand in assistance and then dismissed the automaton, who boarded the carriage and began to drive it back to its masters in the Edel household. The bot-bots made their happy beeps as Lenora and Christine made it up the walkway, and Lenora couldn’t help but smile at them, though they couldn’t tell that she was pleased with them. They quickly went back to work on the hedges, and Christine opened the door for Lenora, who gladly stepped in to her new home.

The first sight that greeted her was a young woman, hardly older than Lenora herself, with brown hair and eyes and an exceptionally radiant smile. But the new mistress of the house gasped when she realized that the woman she assumed was Emelia the maid, only had one arm, or rather, only one arm that was made of flesh and bone. Her right arm was a metal contraption, full of visible gears and wires, made to look and function like a human arm down to the fingers. Lenora realized that she was staring at it and quickly looked at the maid’s face and focused on that. She did not seem the least embarrassed as she curtsied to them. Lenora smiled nervously and said,

“Hello there, Emelia I assume?”

“Yes Mrs. Lanway,” Emelia said, grinning, “it will be a pleasure to serve under you. Yydan’s light upon you.”

Then, as courtesy dictated, Lenora extended two of her fingers to Emelia, using her left hand. Traditionally, she should have used her right hand but, again, she didn’t want to be crushed by the mechanical arm. Emelia used her left hand to shake the fingers, and then she curtsied again. After this ritual, she took Dr. Lanway’s hat and cane and put them in a closet, and then went about her work.

“She does seem like a nice girl,” Lenora commented as Christine began to give her a tour of the house, “but you should’ve warned me about her arm so I wouldn’t have stared so. Do you know what happened to her?”

“Apparently, there was a fire in her last place of residence, she was the only one to make it out alive, but her right arm was all but burned off. She was taken to a hospital, and a generous benefactor of some sort decided to donate to have her current arm made.”

“The poor girl!” Lenora said, “She was very lucky to have made it out alive.”

“Yes, and at that moment she decided that she was chosen to do the work of Yydan; that she was saved from the fire by divine fate. Many people have similar stories of conversion, so I’m not surprised.”

“Well nevertheless, it’s surely a good thing she’s alive, regardless of what path she’s turned down on now. But do you know whose house it was that was burned down?”

“It was her family’s house, I think.”

“Rest their souls,” Lenora said sadly, “and let peace be upon them.”

They walked through the house quietly, with the silence broken by the creaking of the doors and floors and Christine’s occasional guiding voice.

“And here is the master bedroom, which we will share.” She opened the door and Lenora peered inside. It certainly looked like the room of a man, with no vanity or decoration. Everything was sparse and purposeful, a bookshelf to the side, a stack of papers in a corner besides a small writing desk, a large bed built for two, a wardrobe, and two nightstands. The conservation of space made the room look huge. Lenora began making note of what she wanted; a vanity, for starters, to do her makeup, and probably her own wardrobe. She would have to have some place in the house to use when she needed to occupy herself with embroidery or sketching, like the drawing room she saw downstairs. But what she had with the house was certainly workable, not as grand as the Edel mansion but somehow more livable. At least, it would be once she was properly accommodated.

“It’s lovely,” Lenora told her husband, “I’m sure I’ll be very happy here.”

“Wonderful,” she said gruffly, “now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work that must be done in the study. Please make yourself at home. I’ll see you at dinner.” And with that, Christine left the room and left Lenora alone.

She decided to sprawl out on the bed and do nothing at all. She was somehow unnerved and excited by the idea of waking up in this new bed every day, until it became routine. No longer would she have her life in the grand Edel household, full of servants who now detested her and family who disliked her even more, now she could stay here with the friendly Emelia and the not too friendly but still tolerable Christine.

Despite being in their own home, they had to keep up pretences for Emelia’s sake, and so Christine stayed as Christopher throughout dinner.

“Dr. Lanway,” Lenora said sweetly at the conclusion of the meal, dabbing her mouth daintily with a handkerchief, “are you finished with your work, or do you have to run off now?”

“No, no I’ve finished everything up.” Christine said, not paying attention to Emelia, who quickly took the plates away. “Why, was there something you needed?”

“I just wanted to discuss when the rest of my things would get here. I know that it’s troublesome to transport a wardrobe and vanity from my old home, but it would certainly be even more troublesome to buy new ones, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so. You’ll probably see them within two days, until then I hope it is no inconvenience to share a wardrobe with me, Mrs. Lanway?”

For some reason, Lenora smiled when she said ‘Mrs. Lanway’.

“Not an inconvenience at all, Dr. Lanway. Not at all.”

After dinner they retired to their bedroom, and Lenora tried to appear as innocent as possible when she lied down on the bed, watching Christine finish dressing for bed and climb in with her.

“Darling, may I have a kiss?” Lenora asked, her voice laced with sweetness.

“Not on your life,” Christine growled, “damn you and your kisses, Lenora.”

“Call me ‘Mrs. Lanway’.” Lenora said, sitting up in the bed.

“What? We’re in private, there’s no need to keep up formalities.”

“We’re still married, even in private.” Lenora said, leaning over Christine and letting her black hair fall onto Christine’s shoulder.

“No, we’re lying to the public and we hate each other in private. Now go to sleep, and no more talk of kisses.”

Lenora all but whimpered as Christine said this with such finality.

“But Dr. Lanway,” she said, “if we’re not married, then explain the rings on my finger. Explain the wedding. We are married, and if not by your choice and not by mine then perhaps by Fate’s.”

“Bah,” Christine mumbled into her pillow, “I will hear nothing of fate. Please, Lenora, I am a scientist, and as such I need to be focused on the practicality of things. Our marriage was a practicality, and though I’m not sure what’s going through your mind, I’m certainly hoping to keep things as simple as possible.”

NaNoWriMo: day 6

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:13:33 GMT

Not under cut because it's SO SHORT *cries*

Lenora was stuck on the worlds ‘our home’. She felt relieved to finally be leaving the home of her childhood, and she smiled in the excitement of the new possibilities that lay before her. A new home, a new husband, and a new beginning; she could enjoy the freedom of being alone. She could enjoy a house to herself without troubling relatives to bother her. Christine was sure to be lenient with her, at least for the outward appearances of being a kind husband, if not for her total indifference to Lenora. What’s more, if things didn’t work out with Christine and she began denying Lenora kisses and intimacy, then of course Lenora could go and find intimacy somewhere else. While it was unlikely that she could seduce a Yydanist maid, there were surely other women who would be willing to keep her company for a small fee. The only problem with that, Lenora thought, was that the level of discreetness it required to avoid scandal was simply phenomenal. The chances of getting caught in such an affair were staggeringly against her, even if she could convince Christine to help her in such a thing.

She turned to look towards her husband. Dr. Lanway stared out the window, her lips moving slightly as if whispering to herself, which she very well might have been doing. The scientific types were always quite peculiar like that. Nevertheless, a thought came to Lenora which put a real grin on her face- perhaps Christine wasn’t entirely immune to seduction herself. Perhaps there was a way to instill desire in her husband and have her initiate moments of passion between the two. It would take a lot of work and time, and of course there was no telling how many attacks she would have between then and the triumph of her plan, but she plainly decided that Dr. Christine Lanway would be her new conquest, whether she liked it or not.

NaNoWriMo: day 5

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 03:41:40 GMT

When Lenora walked down the aisle, the world did not stop its revolutions, and the birds did not swoop down to lift her veil or train. She moved no less gracefully than she always did, but also no more. But as the eyes of the guests were on her in awe of her beauty, Christine felt a tremor in her hands and a quiver in her heart. Not because she was in love with this woman, far from it in fact, but because the vision of her sent strange emotions into her heart. Envy, perhaps, at the simplicity of her life. That Lenora was so beautiful she did not have to want for anything. But with the envy came a sort of pity, that she had no ambitions outside of this day. That after today she would legally become Christine’s property, until death or divorce parted them.

Lenora smiled to the guests, but her eyes were locked on Christine, who looked so handsome in her finely tailored suit. Her heart was all aflutter with anticipation, and possibly desire, because after all this dreaming and waiting, she could finally make Dr. Christine Lanway hers. Even if at first Christine was unwilling to treat her as she wanted to be treated, she would come around. Eventually, she would want to spend their days together, she would go mad over her wife’s beauty and appetite. Lenora smiled a little more sinisterly as she lifted her eyes and climbed up to the altar. Being a diagnosed nymphomaniac could have some tantalizing advantages for the both of them.

They both stood side by side on the altar, where the official from the Temple of Yydan began the opening prayers. Nothing extravagant or particularly motivational, or even interesting was said here, they just went over the importance of the joining of man and wife, along with reminding the bride and groom of their roles in their future life as man and wife. Next, Susannah read a poem one of the Yydanist monks that was all about the feeling of love, in an acceptable and toned-down manner, completely skipping over any feelings of passion that was sure to be had in a healthy relationship. Susannah burst into tears by the end of the poem, so moved by it all, and had to be ushered away from the wedding to calm down before taking her place once more as Maid of Honor.

Christine and Lenora locked eyes with each other as they said their vows.

"I take you, Lenora, to be my bride."

"I take you, Christ..opher, to be my husband."

"To light your way in darkness."

"To be your shelter and your comfort."

"For ever and ever."

"Until death do us part."

"You may kiss the bride."

Christine hesitated for only a brief moment before leaning over to give Lenora a brief peck on the lips. Lenora wrapped her hands around Christine's head and pulled her in deeper, so that it felt to the couple, and to the audience, to last a lifetime.

After the wedding was, of course the real festivities. The academics that came to see 'Christopher' mingled awkwardly with the family from Lenora's side. And what's more, the bride and groom, though this was their hour, seemed to be quite tense, for no observable reason. Richard took Christine away for a while and nudged her.

"So, a married man now, Dr. Lanway? But your bride doesn't look entirely too happy. Maybe another passionate kiss will cheer her up?"

"I swear to never kiss her in public again, and I intend to keep to that. That's why she's in such a bitter mood."

"Well," Dr. Vorst said, grinning from ear to ear, "perhaps these nuptial festivities aren't the best to put her in a better mood. Perhaps it would be best if her husband could show her some tender affection when you're alone in the bridal suite."

"Dr. Vorst, if you will kindly stop making reference to that, I would appreciate it quite a lot.”

“You know I only mean to help you Christopher. There’s no need to get…touchy. At least, not towards me that is.”

He began to walk off towards a crowd, but not before sending one last charming smile Christine’s way,

“Really, if you have such a treasure and squander it, you never know who might pick it up next.”

Christine scowled and turned back to the buffet table, not picking up anything to eat, her appetite had long since gone, but cursing both Lenora and Richard, sometimes in the same breath.

Cake was cut and dances were done. All in all, the wedding was traditional, uneventful, and for the couple, rather boring. While Christine was happy to meet a few well-respected scientists, she felt that she was often condescended upon by them for her youth. What’s more, they seemed to share the opinions of the doctors Hamford and Winston. It made Christine realize that this whole charade really was worth it- there was simply no way she could’ve been a doctor without resorting to disguising herself. And if Lenora had to become a part of her life in order to keep things running smoothly, then so be it.

After the long banquet, the guests departed and the new Dr. and Mrs. Lanway were led to their suite for the night. Lenora linked arms with Christine and sighed as she leaned into her. Christine felt her blood run hot with embarrassment and trepidation as she opened the doors.

The room seemed to be put together in a sort of haste, unlike the rest of the carefully decorated wedding. White roses were hung from the canopy of the bed, but the rose petals strewn on the bed sheets were a deep red. Christine unhooked her arm from Lenora’s grasp and began to walk around the room. She noticed that there was an adjoining bath to the room, and she considered washing before going to sleep. She was grabbed around the waist by Lenora, who nuzzled at her back with the side of her face. Through the shirt and the corset, she could feel the contour of her cheek, and the warmth of her hands. She took a breath to relax herself and calmly analyze the situation, but the air was infused with a deep and tantalizing musk. Christine silently turned to face her wife, and saw that Lenora’s eyes were glazed over, as if possessed. She backed away from her, hitting herself up against the wall. Lenora smiled as she cornered her and brought their faces close together.

"Dr. Lanway," she breathed, "it's time for my treatment."

Christine gulped and tried to figure out how to best get out of this situation without causing too much of a commotion. Lenora pulled her into a tight hug, and the doctor was suddenly struck with feelings of a peculiar nature. She had never been embraced like this before, she had not often been hugged, even as a small child, but what she remembered is that such gestures were brief, emotionless- like a polite greeting to a stranger. But this felt relieving and passionate and wonderful. Her arms wrapped around Lenora by themselves, in some strange primal instinct that simply had to be quenched. She thought the worst of herself for enjoying it. but some more laviscious part of her mind rejoiced, reminding her that, while alone like this, there was nothing wrong with a practical experiment in biology.

However, this inner voice sounded far too much like Dr. Vorst, and so when Lenora put more of her weight against Christine, she struggled to get away. Despite being a petite teenage girl, Lenora was surprisingly strong, and was able to pin Christine to the ground and embraced her again.

Christine closed her eyes and tried to relax her body, tried to keep her mind off of logical conclusions of what Lenora wanted. Even though curiosity and her own libido tried to keep the status quo, her propriety, modesty, piety, not to mention her own dislike of Lenora, made her twist and wriggle out of her grasp.

But in all honesty, everything from the way that Lenora smelled to the soft but demanding touch she inflicted upon the poor doctor made her want her. She couldn't help herself when Lenora pressed her body tightly against Christine's. Simply enough, she wanted more. She felt that she couldn't deny herself the pleasure that was being offered to her.

"Damn it all." She hissed, just before Lenora kissed her.

Lenora broke the kiss and looked deep into Christine's eyes.

"I'm not forcing you to do anything," she whispered, "but I know that you want this as much as I do. Let me have you, I will show you pleasure the likes of which you have never known."

"The time for asking my permission seems to have long since ended for you." But she recognized this as one of Lenora's attacks, and there were only two feasible options: either she could give in to Lenora's whims, or slap her until she came to her senses. While the former seemed to be the way things were heading between them, Christine decided not to strike, but to shake Lenora, reversing their positions, and did not stop shaking until she could see the change in Lenora's eyes, back to normal.

"What happened?" She asked, then looking up at Chrisitne and the rage in her eyes, said, "Oh no, I'm sorry..."

"Well, at least nothing too terrible happened," Christine said, getting up and offering a hand to Lenora. She took the hand and when she was up, brushed herself off. They looked at each other with renewed awkwardness, they were unable to think about what they were doing or what was going on around them. All they imagined was how close they had come to the undeniably wicked and the undeniably pleasurable.

"Such things are best left for those people who are truly man and wife," Christine said with finality, "come on, let's get to sleep. I'll take you to my home tomorrow, and you can meet the maid and get settled in."

"Yes, of course."

They walked over to the bed and undressed to an amount that was decent for sleeping in but decent to be around each other in. They were unable to imagine sleeping peacefully, but they were so exhausted from the day they did not even have a chance to settle the things from a few moments ago. And their hearts raced into the night as their minds went into a deep slumber. And all in all, the wedding night, like the day, was otherwise uneventful, much like they hoped their lives together would be.

"You'll like Emelia, she's a sweet and diligent servant," Dr. Lanway said the next day in the carriage, on the way to his townhouse. "She's a little...simple though. A bit like your cousin, if you don't mind me saying."

"You know I don't mind insults to Susannah one bit." Lenora said, grinning. "But if she's anything like her, I assume she must be a Yydanist."

"Who isn't these days?" Christine sighed. "Yes, she is, and competes for a level of devotion that surpasses even the so called prophet Nicholas ___. She's saving up her wages for the Yydan core surgery."

"Despite the mortality rates? How absurd! How does she get by if she's saving so much?"

"I provide her room and board, and give her a reasonable salary. Again, she does a good job with cleaning and cooking, so I don't mind giving her such accommodations."

"It's such a shame that such a sweet girl must be so simpleminded." Lenora tsked. "Though there isn't much a girl can do if she’s not brought into society. Which reminds me, how on earth did you begin your journey to become a doctor? I assume you weren’t satisfied with a nursing position.”

“Perhaps that’s a conversation for another time,” Christine said, cutting her off, “it’s not much farther until we arrive at my…our home.”

NaNoWriMo: day 4

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:15:37 GMT

"Ah, very good Richard, thank you. I should hope that we catch at least the whiff of a patient today, eh gentlemen?" Dr. Winston chortled happily, and Dr. Vorst joined in, though more out of politeness and less of general humor. Dr. Lanway just sighed and began filing papers at her desk.

"By the way, Christopher," Dr. Winston said suddenly, "congratulations on your upcoming marriage. I just read it in the paper today, why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"It slipped my mind." Christine said honestly. Really, she had been rather busy with work and had been trying to not think about the wedding or her future bride.

"Slipped your mind? My dear man, don't let your fiancée catch wind of that! Surely your lovely wife to be sees this as the most important day of her life! You must be sensitive to the needs of a woman if you're going to marry one."

Christine sighed again and nodded, trying to make believe that she didn't take offense to those words. She knew for certain that not all women spent their days fantasizing about their wedding days. Some actually had more important things to do. It was just silly, silly women who spent their days dreaming of romance.

Dr. Lanway filed through her papers, also hoping that they could have someone come in that needed treatment. But with the growing popularity of the Yydan-core surgery, people were beginning to treat psychology as an unnecessary science, and it was dying just as quickly as it had started.

"How ridiculous that these people think the Second Heart could get rid of everyone's problems." She muttered, putting everything neatly into place.

"Now, now Christopher, why are you so glum? It's only a week until your wedding day; you should be overjoyed to wed such a sweet and prosperous girl like Miss Edel."

At this Christine said back to her boss, "Prosperous she may be, beautiful she may be, but sweet she is not. She is annoying and silly and not at all what I'm looking for in a wife."

"Then, dear boy, why in the world did you decide to marry her?" Dr. Winston asked incredulously.

"It was her aunt's idea, and I went along with it because it was you who hinted that I was in need of a wife in the first place!" Dr. Lanway took a few calming breaths and sat back down at her desk.

“Well, I didn’t mean for you or the girl to be unhappy,” Dr. Winston said sullenly, “After all, marriage should be joyful- the happy bonding between two people under the eye of society."

"Not to mention whatever gods might be watching," Dr. Vorst happily supplied, "but all of that aside, you shouldn't be cursing your good fortune, Christopher. There's many a man who would kill to marry one of the Edel girls, be sure you're not murdered in your sleep before the wedding."

"That’s very funny, Dr. Vorst. Now, the both of you, I am quite content with my circumstances, I only wish that Miss Edel were a little more...intellectually inclined. That is all." She looked between the both of them, and for a short while no one said anything. Then Dr. Winston cut through the silence and said,

"Well, you know what they say about young lovers- that opposites attract each other. Think about it lad, you're a man of science and facts, and you don't take well to things outside of that. Now, Miss Edel, being a woman, will be drawn to beauty, both the beauty of herself and the environment she's in. She also will seem fixed on details of what we men see as trifles. But heed her well, dear man, because in her seeming fragility and weakness of mind, there is a vast store of practices in the subtle arts. Manipulation and ruin await a man who does not respect his wife, but a sweet and caring partner you'll surely have if you only treat her with kindness."

"'Fragility and weakness of mind'? You speak as though women were intellectual inferiors to men." Christine said, barely sustaining her voice so as not to growl at the man in charge of the practice.

"Ah, Christopher, if only you could've heard the discussions that were had at the last Academic's Ball. There was a fellow doctor of psychology there, a Dr. Hamford it was, who had written a book about the differences between men and women.

"The thing about women is, Christopher, that they are forces to be reckoned with if not under proper guidance. They deserve to be treated well, of course, as all creatures do, but there's no denying that in terms of strength or intelligence, there are simple physical characteristics that make it so that man was to be the superior of the two. Consider the thought processes of each, the average head sizes, physical tests of strength and speed. Consider also that women are content to serve a kind husband- it is because it is their place in life, so long as the husband isn't cruel to her. Being cruel to one's wife is, in my opinion, the worst offense a man can conceive."

All of this Christine bore with her teeth grit and her mouth clenched shut. Her hands were perfectly still at her sides.

"I still think," she said coolly, "that there hasn't been enough research done on the subject, and that this Dr. Hamford should consider actually talking to women and seeing how content they are serving their husbands when there's a much wider world out there for them."

"Well, now you're just being silly dear boy! Dr. Hamford is a very respected man, and for you to just say that there is something lacking in his work, just a year out of school yourself, the nerve!" He laughed as he said this, and wiped his eye with a handkerchief. "Women are far too emotional and illogical to be doing the work of men. Besides, if the woman was gone from the house, who would be there to watch over it? Not to mention the children."

"As you say, sir." Dr. Lanway said finally, ending the conversation there.

For the rest of the day she wondered if Lenora would be content to be nothing but a wife. She later concluded that so long as she kept giving Lenora the much sought-after kisses, she would be content to do anything.

In the Edel household, Lenora was having her own anxieties over the wedding. While she enjoyed the dress fitting somewhat, she found herself not all that interested in the planning of the decorations and the guest list, let alone what precise shade of white the table cloths should be. She left that to the critical eye of her aunt and instead locked herself in her room for days on end, or so it felt. She tried to imagine her married life, and think about what she should prepare to do in order to be seen as a good wife. She had never been quite clear on what a wife was supposed to do- only that they were social, affectionate, obedient, and had a tendency to spend their husband's money. But Lenora did not really want anything, nor did she have any connections with which to gossip over trivialities. Or just talk to. In this way, Dr. Lanway was to be her whole world, and she could be said to just be moving from one prison of boredom and luxury to another.

Ah, but life with Dr. Lanway might not be so interesting, though life with Christine would surely be something to look forward to. She fantasized sharing kisses with her every day. She dreamed that on their wedding night, they would kiss all night long. Then, Lenora pondered; why not see if she could go further than kissing? Kissing was wonderful, after all, but what about those dirty, pleasurable things she found in books that she hid under her dress and smuggled from the more downtrodden bookstores? For the longest time, they seemed like fanciful words on a page, but now she realized that her own wedding night, a time supposedly filled with passionate coupling, was merely a few days away. But nevertheless, Christine would never consent to that. She was too prudish, too terrified of Lenora to think about something like that.

But perhaps some subtle persuasion could do the trick. After all, if Christine thought it was her own idea, she'd surely go along with it. And what's more, Lenora wouldn't have to worry about not pleasing her soon to be husband, because Christine would be just as inexperienced, just as nervous and ready to move into what she considered the best part of marriage.

Before the wedding, it was decided that Susannah was to be the Maid of Honor and Dr. Vorst the Best Man, and for the exact same reason: neither Lenora nor Christine knew of anyone better to ask, if anyone at all. And when they learned that they had earned such high positions in the wedding, though they could only guess that it was by default, they were both overjoyed to be helping with the celebration. Dr. Winston was of course invited, along with the more distant factions of the Edel family. Christine claimed to have no living family members, and so her only wedding guests were academics from around Cloginsmire.

The day of the wedding was warm and sunny, and the garden that Madame Edel picked for the wedding and reception couldn't have been more picturesque. The color scheme seemed to be of very light pinks with plenty of pretty white decorations. Away from the guests, altar, and groom, Lenora was being prepared to become Mrs. Lanway.

Susannah was dressed in a pretty pink bride's maid gown, which went perfectly with her yellow hair. Her loveliness was second only to Lenora, who had been up all day with hairdressers and beauticians to look like nothing short of an earth bound goddess. Her ebony hair was piled neatly on her head with sparkling ornaments, and her dress was tailored so as to flow gracefully however she moved.

"Oh, my dear cousin," Susannah sighed, "you are a vision of loveliness. Dr. Lanway will be so amazed to see you."

Lenora smiled and looked down at her bouquet of pink roses. She held them up to her nose to sniff, and was pleased by the aroma they gave off. She couldn't have imagined a better day to get married. It was like something out of a romance book.

But she longed to catch sight of Dr. Lanway. While she was waiting for the ceremony to begin, she asked Susannah to take a look at how everyone was doing.

"He looks so very nervous!" She reported, "He's fidgeting with everything and is rocking on his feet. Yydan bless him, he looks like such a wreck!"

"If he's worried now, I wonder how he'll be saying his vows? I can only hope he doesn't have a nervous stutter." Lenora laughed and twirled about in her dress,

"Now, now," Susannah said, "stop that, and let's attach your veil and train. I think they're about to start the procession."

"We're about to start," Christine said to nobody in particular, "I hope this goes through without too much of a hassle."

"You're about to get married and all you can think about is the hassle?" Dr. Vorst said, clapping her on the shoulder. "You need to think of other things; the beauty of the scenery, the anticipation of seeing your bride, and not to mention," he said with a sly grin, "that which all men look forward to."

Christine flushed crimson at the mention of such things.

"Dr. Vorst, you're being vulgar."

"But you do know how it all works, right? Or shall I have to give you a brief but practical and very important biology lesson?"

The official, a priest of Yydan, walked up to them and said,

"We're about to start, we're asking that everyone takes their places, the bridal procession is about to begin."

When the guests were seated and everyone was hushed, the orchestra began to play. Lovely music permeated the gardens, and Susannah walked out before her cousin. Everyone turned to admire her loveliness, and then stood up as Lenora began to walk down the aisle.

NaNoWriMo: day 3

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:19:41 GMT

Type your cut contents here

After a few incidences of meeting each other in the random places they designed to meet at, Christine began to court Lenora properly, and Madame Eleanor Edel was very pleased. She was not so happy to find Lenora seeming to enjoy Dr. Lanway's company as that her niece could possibly be steps away from marrying a man of good standing and some wealth. Of course, not having Lenora attack the maids was just an added bonus, and soon she came to scheme that it was fine to leave the two of them alone for brief periods of time, if only to show her change of heart to Dr. Lanway, in that she was trusting him with her least favorite and only niece.

However, Susannah wouldn't hear of leaving them without a chaperone. When she next ran into Dr. Lanway, she apologized profusely for letting him go alone with her cousin.

"Because of course," she had said, "we cannot allow for a man such as yourself to be swayed by my cousin's... predicament." For she had seen Lenora go after the maids once or twice, and though she tried to cover up her uneasiness, she would always start if she saw Lenora staring off into the air, as if this was a beginning sign of her violent transformations of sanity.

However, all of that aside, Dr. Lanway was soon welcomed into the Edel estate, and was able to assure Madame Edel of his intentions to marry Lenora and provide her with a good home and a comfortable life. Lenora's attacks grew less and less frequent as she stole kisses from her future husband, and while her aunt and cousin were none the wiser, they were certainly happy to know that the household staff was no longer in any danger. What's more, they were happy that Lenora was eager to be married off to this Dr. Lanway, and they were oblivious to the real reasons behind the two seemingly happy young lovers.

Christine, of course, was never openly affectionate to Lenora, but the younger woman found herself oddly attracted to this aloof manner that Christine displayed. She felt that it was, perhaps, the fault of society for making her future husband so cold and unwilling to share in Lenora's joy that they would wed soon enough. In fact, when they were alone and didn't have to hold up pretenses, they found out that Christine was actually dreading the time of nuptials, especially since Lenora was become more fixed and amorous towards Christine.

One day, Christine was sitting with the Edel family when she abruptly said, "Madame Edel, I thank you for your patience with me all this time, and that you have been so kind to me in letting me spend all this time with your charming niece. I have told you of my intentions to marry her, and I plan to follow through with this." She turned to Lenora, who was sitting very prettily in her chair, for a moment, Christine was truly taken by her beauty, in that she had never considered herself to be very fair, not that she cared for such things. It was merely an objective observation, of course.

Dr. Christopher, or rather, Christine Lanway kneeled before Lenora Edel and drew out a small box, and spoke these words as sincerely as she could muster.

“Miss Edel, will you marry me, and thereby make me the happiest man alive?”

Lenora smiled and took the box with all formality to look inside it. The ring was most lovely silver, with a small blood red ruby in the princess cut as its focal point. She smiled at Christine, her heart all aflutter that their plans had finally come into fruition.

“Yes, Dr. Lanway, I accept your proposal, because surely marrying you will make me, without a doubt, the happiest woman alive.”

Madame and Susannah Edel watched this exchange with mixed emotions.

“You two deserve each other,” Susannah said, “Yydan’s light upon your union.” Christine and Lenora did not roll their eyes, though the temptation was great.

“Now,” Madame Edel said, rising up from her chair, “We must plan for the wedding. Relatives must be informed, the newspaper contacted with the marriage date, and the house must be set up accordingly.”

“And I’ll need a dress, of course,” Lenora said cheerfully, “I do so adore wedding dresses.”

“In good time, Lenora,” her Aunt Eleanor said offhandedly. The young couple and Susannah were shooed into the next room so that Madame Edel could think and begin the preparations. While in this room, Susannah congratulated them again on their engagement, wishing them the best and showering them with blessings of her god. Christine and Lenora held their tongues, having expected this from her. Instead, they ignored her and focused on each other- Lenora was giddy with anticipation and Christine was nervous and anxious, but they both began wondering about their future life as bride and groom- husband and wife.

Christine became more and more nervous as the wedding day drew closer, and her colleague at work in the psychology office, a Dr. Richard Vorst, did not make things any better on her. One day, she was surprised to see that Dr. Vorst had arrived at the office earlier than she did, when usually she was the first one there. He was reading a newspaper, hat and coat still on, boots propped up against the table. Christine did not like this man for the same reasons she did not get along with Lenora- she saw them both as lecherous, silly, and yet inexcusably good-looking. Dr. Vorst actually had similar features that Lenora did; he had dark hair and eyes, a graceful nose and full lips. Christine had once noted to Lenora that she and her fellow psychologist had such similarities, but Lenora only laughed at the very notion when Christine suggested some possible relation between the two.

When Dr. Vorst noticed Dr. Lanway’s arrival, he peered over his newspaper and said,

“Ah, Christopher, how good to see you. I wanted to make sure that I congratulated you on your upcoming wedding. Miss Edel is certainly a lovely young thing. I wonder how someone as stiff and uncompromising as you could snare such a beauty.”

“I’ll ignore the insult and tell you that she was a patient of mine, and I later began running into her in town. It was only logical that I court and wed her. She is, after all, young and strong-willed, certainly in need of a husband.”

“Are you sure it isn’t for the vast estate she has claims to? Or the handsome dowry you’re sure to receive?” Dr. Vorst said with a sly grin.

“She has no claims to the Edel estate, her aunt and guardian has constantly informed me of that. As for the dowry, it’s a rather modest sum.”

“That’s very stingy of them, to be giving their future son-in-law naught but a ‘modest sum’. But what about the girl? Does this picture do her justice?” He flipped the newspaper around to show Dr. Lanway the picture of her and her future wife. They were both smiling, but only Lenora was really sincere about it. She did look lovely, as she always did, but the pictures in newspapers always had an ugly brown tint to them.

“Pictures never do anyone justice,” Dr. Lanway said simply. “Now, Dr. Vorst, do you have the reports from yesterday?”

“It’s too early to be thinking about work, Christopher. And for the sake of the gods, do call me Richard.”

“It’s never too early to be working, Dr. Vorst. By the way, what are you doing here so early? You usually don’t come strolling in for another hour or so.”

He chuckled and folded the newspaper, putting it neatly on his desk.

“I just wanted to chat and congratulate you, nothing wrong with that is there? In all honesty, and I hope you find no offense when I say this, but you’re an incredibly rigid man, and while I find that amusing at times, I can only hope you’re not like that around your dear fiancée. After all, it’s a man’s job to make his wife feel happy, comfortable…satisfied.”

“Don’t lecture me about my place, Dr. Vorst!” She was about to give the man a piece of her mind when the door chimed open and in stepped the owner and final doctor of the practice, Dr. Winston.

Dr. Winston was an older gentleman, gray but not too wrinkled, a heavyset man with a gentle disposition. He took off his hat and coat and greeted his two underlings.

“Ah, Richard, Christopher, it’s so nice to see you both up and early. Richard, do you have the reports from yesterday?”

“I have them right here, sir.” He said promptly, swinging off the chair and producing the papers from his coat.

NaNoWriMo: day 2

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:15:00 GMT

"Miss Edel, I have heard recollections from your aunt saying what sort of things you do while you are in this unconscious state. Allegedly you lose control of yourself."

Lenora gulped and asked timidly, "What kinds of things do I do?" Strangely, she felt her pulse racing, perhaps because she was frightened of what was to come. Her face flushed, and suddenly she panicked. She felt another attack coming on.

"Miss Edel," the doctor said, "You appear to attack the maids, and make... advances on them."

"Advances?" She asked, her breaths becoming quick and shallow, "You mean I... harm them?"

"From what your aunt says, you've always been rejected and restrained. But it seems, and I must be frank with you, it seems that your... carnal appetite is so overwhelming that you loose control over yourself and lend yourself to... unladylike things. In short, I have reason to believe that you are a very rare form of nymphomaniac, and you must be treated accordingly."

The world around Lenora went black and she felt herself rising out of the chair.

The next thing she knew she felt a sting across her cheek. She opened her eyes wide and saw that she had the doctor in a tight grip, his shirt opened wide, or rather...

Lenora was shocked to notice that underneath Dr. Lanway's clothing there was a corset, drawn tightly over two small breasts.

"You're a woman..." Lenora said quietly, in a daze from her episode.

Dr. Lanway pushed her away roughly and began redoing his...rather, her pieces of clothing.

"Yes, indeed. You know as well as I do that women are not allowed to practice medicine, except in minor nursing positions. This was the only logical alternative.

"Now, after seeing one of these vile attacks of yours for myself, I have no choice but to diagnose you with nymphomania of the severest variety."

"Oh please," Lenora said, color draining from her face, "please don't send me to an asylum."

"That will only be a last resort," Dr. Lanway said curtly, "for now I will try to treat you, and prescribe to you a much lighter sentence." She cleared her throat and straightened out her jacket, disguised perfectly as a man once more. "I think that your attacks will stop once you have a healthy and an outlet, acceptable to society, for your... passions. I suggest that you find yourself a husband."

Dr. Lanway stopped to think for a minute, and then said, "Actually, I have an ideal solution. Well, perhaps not ideal, but certainly workable. If you're consenting, I will be your husband. After all, I am in need of a wife to keep up images, and this way no one else needs to know about my... little secret."

Lenora looked at her skeptically.

"You want to take me as your wife? How could you possibly think... well, I suppose you're right, logically, but still... aren't I a little young to be married?"

"You're sixteen, aren't you? Victalian law says you could've been married last year."

"True but...how old are you?"

"I am nineteen years old. The age difference is only three years."

"Yes but..." Lenora thought over this, "My aunt will most likely not approve."

“If your aunt doesn’t approve right now, we can find a way to make her approve.” Dr. Lanway thought on this and suddenly said, “I have it! We shall have to tell your aunt that the cure for this malady is a husband. Over a period of time, we can arrange brief and seemingly random encounters, and then eventually turn it into a time of courting. It will probably be brief, seeing as your aunt will want you married off as soon as humanly possible.”

“That sounds like a good plan, but what if she decides to marry me today to someone other than you?”

“I will insist that the person has to ensnare your passions. Little does she know, your interests seem to lie only in women.”

“I see. Well, Dr. Lanway, this does sound like a good start. Just one question.”

Dr. Lanway nodded for her to go on.

“What is your name, doctor?”

She looked at the younger woman incredulously and then said in a cracked voice,

“Christine. Though, mind you, to the public I am Dr. Christopher Lanway.”

“And to the public I will soon be known as Mrs. Lenora Lanway.” She smiled and held out her hand for Christine to shake. Christine clasped Lenora’s hand, and with that they made their plans.

As they had decided, three days later they ‘coincidentally’ met each other in the park. Lenora brought Susannah along with her and they walked among the spring flowers and couples happily walking arm and arm, or families enjoying the beautiful weather. Dr. Lanway sat on a park bench, and when Lenora spotted her she whispered to her cousin,

“Look, there’s my psychologist, Dr. Christopher Lanway. Shall we go to greet him?”

Susannah tilted her head to the side and noted the doctor, who was locking in quiet contemplation.

“He looks to be keeping his own company and seems quite content with that. We shouldn’t bother him.”

“Nonsense, dear cousin!” Lenora exclaimed cheerfully, “We simply must go see him. You’ll like him, Susannah; he is a man of science and much intellect.”

“Perhaps, we shall see.” She replied, resigned to let her cousin drag her over to the doctor.

“Oh, Dr. Lanway! Dr. Lanway! It’s me, Lenora Edel, from a few days ago.”

Christine stood as the women approached her, took off her hat and bowed, as was Victalian courtesy, and then put the hat back on her head. Lenora and Susannah curtsied to her, and Christine said,

“Miss Edel, how wonderful to see you again so soon; and, might I ask, who is this young lady?”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well, good sir. This is my cousin, the lovely Susannah Edel.”

“May Yydan’s light shine upon you, good doctor.” She said, curtsying again. Christine looked taken aback and affronted by this show of devotion to Yydan.

“Thank you,” she said with a deceptive sincerity, “that’s very kind.”

Susannah smiled, not sensing the hesitancy from the doctor.

“Well, Dr. Lanway, my cousin and I were going for a walk,” Lenora chirped, effectively steering conversation away from tension, “would you care to join us?”

“I would be glad to; if you are sure I would not be intruding on your company or conversation.”

“Perish the thought! I was just telling Susannah here that you are a true man of science. Perhaps you could educate us on your practice?”

“I’ll try to not bore or overwhelm you young ladies with details, the practice of psychology can be tedious at parts, but otherwise it is an exciting field, full of possibilities and discoveries.”

“Are you at all involved in the Yydan-core surgery?” Susannah suddenly asked.

Again, Dr. Lanway was taken aback by Susannah's natural tendency to center all thoughts and conversation topics on her god. Clearing her throat, she said,

"No, actually, since I'm a doctor of the mind and not of the body, I do not deal with the Yydan-core surgery."

"I take it you're not a Yydanist, Dr. Lanway?" Lenora said slyly, looking up at her and batting her eyelashes in mock-innocence. Dr. Lanway snorted.

"Of course not. I never could identify with religion. And Yydanism has principles that I simply could never agree with as a scientist."

"How so?" Susannah asked, suddenly offended, "Yydan and his prophet wish to share light and joy upon the world, what could possibly be wrong with that?"

"I mean no offense, Miss Edel, I simply mean to say that the principles of controlling the body in such ways that the Yydan core surgery does defies nature, and certainly defies logic."

"I've been trying to tell her the same thing for the longest time," Lenora said, laughing as her cousin's face flushed, "but she won't listen to me. I don't even understand the entire process, but the idea of removing one's own heart and replacing it with some machine sounds absolutely horrid!"

"The point of the surgery is cleansing," Susannah supplied, "it removes chemicals from the body that cause one to have impure thoughts or feelings. It eradicates desire and allows a person to live a pure and good life."

"This, of course, sounds absurd. As a doctor of psychology, I feel that in my studies I've found that there are important reasons we have desire. One of the most obvious, though I hesitate to say it in front of innocent young ladies, is reproduction."

"Oh, you are such a gentleman," Lenora teased, "but go on, good doctor; I'd like to know more about your views.”

"Well, for starters, it's hard for me to imagine any sane person going through the Yydan-core surgery, what with its mortality rates. And the attempts to improve the surgery will only encourage more people to go through with it.”

"Oh, of course. But you must admit, those who die off because of the surgery are certainly saving the rest of humanity from inheriting their stupidity for replacing such a vital organ in the first place."

At this, Susannah stomped her foot on the ground and exclaimed, "What is the matter with you two? Going off about such things, knowing that the Eye of Yydan is upon us all?"

"Yes, yes, I know dear cousin. Don't mind her, good doctor, she's always like this. I'm afraid she's quite serious too. Actually believes such rubbish."

Now Susannah looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Your mockery breaks my heart, Lenora. I'm trying to be a good follower of Yydan and showing you the True Way, but the non-believers always hurt me so. Well, I must go home to pray, and pray for you, both of you. I'm sure you will keep company just fine without me." And with that, she turned and quickly walked away stiffly, barely holding on to her composure.

"I thought she would never leave," Christine growled as she walked alongside Lenora, offering her an arm to take. Lenora linked her arm with the doctor's and smiled.

"She's really a sweet girl, but a little daft, I'll admit. So, now that we're here without a chaperone, what would you like to do?"

"We should plan for our next meeting," Christine said with her usual solemn tone, "Perhaps in a shop in town, two days from now?"

"Which shop?" Lenora asked, wondering how they could make the next scene be as unpracticed and amusing as this first one.

"Are you fond of sweets?"

"I love sweets! So a confectionary?"

Christine nodded. "I don't mind the occasional candy myself, so it seems like an ideal meeting place. See if you can bring an aunt or a friend, I need to get to meet as many of your close relations as possible."

"Well, the truth is I don't have any friends. I've been confined to the manor all my life, with only Susannah and the maids as company. Now that I've been ostracized from the company of the latter, I'm stuck with the former and her perpetual ranting and raving on her great lord Yydan." She smiled and leaned into Christine coyly, "Perhaps your company will provide more entertainment. I so bore of Susannah. Having a husband will be much more...pleasurable?"

Christine balked at the notion and seemed to inch away from her future wife.

"I'll find some way to treat you; since I am still your doctor, but please keep that I'm not planning to do any actual 'treating' myself."

"Why not?" Lenora asked sweetly.

"It's...unprofessional."

"To be intimate with one’s wife?"

"Miss Edel," Christine said sternly, "must I remind you that this is a marriage of convenience, not romance? I'll find some other way to treat you of your disease."

"My disease is repression," she countered, "that I'm young and passionate without any, as you've said, 'outlet'. Surely you can understand that this alone is the cause of my madness?"

"Nevertheless, you seek women for pleasure, and you must find a way to seek the company of men."

"Then why should I marry you?" Lenora suddenly stopped and crossed her arms, glaring at her doctor. "Why didn't you recommend that I marry a real man?"

"Because I desperately need a wife to continue practicing medicine! I have to make house calls, and the unmarried women get nervous when I show up without a ring on my finger. I'll be able to hire a manservant, or find some other way to sate you and these seemingly inhuman desires of yours."

By now they were in a secluded part of the park. Lenora, growing angry and volatile, pushed Christine down onto the ground. Standing over her, she said,

"You just told my cousin that such desires were perfectly natural."

"Not for women! And certainly not at the level that you feel desire! We must moderate the things you feel, change them into something more acceptable."

"Then prove to me this," Lenora said, leaning down on top of Christine, "that you don't feel anything for me, that your heart doesn't race when I'm this close to you." She put her hand on Christine's chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat through the clothes.

"I have decided that a condition of our marriage," Lenora said seriously, "is that you have to kiss me. Not at the wedding, but right here, right now. Kiss me."

"What impropriety is this?!" Christine asked, shaking Lenora off. "You know that this is wrong and yet you go ahead with it?"

"You know that you're a hypocrite and yet you flaunt it for all to see?" Lenora retorted, pushing Christine back down. "Kiss me, you idiot!"

"No!"

At this point, Lenora bared her teeth. The world around her was starting to fade, she was starting to lose control. "Kiss me, or I'll have another attack."

Through fear, Christine hesitantly raised her face towards Lenora. Lenora dove in and shared her first kiss with the woman that would be her husband.

Christine's lips were thin, but soft, and despite never kissing anyone before, she wasn't too bad at it. The kiss was chaste and close-mouthed, but it was the single sweetest and most passionate experience that Lenora ever had. When they parted, the world became clear again, and Lenora smiled.

"You liked it," she teased, playful once more, "admit it."

"Never." Christine retorted, straightening her jacket and standing up. "We may soon be married, but I will never enjoy that, or anything like it."

Lenora laughed shamelessly as she and Christine left the deserted part of the park and returned to the lively people enjoying the springtime. Lenora smiled, because for the first time in her life she honestly felt satisfied.

NaNoWriMo: day 1

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:12:23 GMT

The young woman walked through dark alleyways without fear or hesitation. All around her were pleasure seekers and persons whose debauchery could be sensed quite some distance from their location. The pleasure seekers paid her no mind as she walked through their lairs, some of them propositioned to her, but she merely walked past, and her cold, metallic-colored eyes dissuaded them from pursuing her further. She walked quickly through cool air and the horrid stench of sewage, her boots clicking smartly against the ground. The pocket watch in her coat pocket made a noise, and she took it out for inspection. Then she bent her knees and sprung up through the air, landing on top of a tall building, face to face with an incubus.

“I see that the Order does not allow for anything short of superhuman within their ranks,” the monster chuckled, “ironic, that you despise the non-humans so much and yet that is exactly what you turn out to be.”

“Simple magic tricks aren’t what I’d call inhuman.” The woman snarled, suddenly brandishing a large staff with a spear on one end and vicious electric probes on the other.

“What a lovely weapon you have there. You’ve certainly come a long way from axes and pitchforks of the bygone days.”

The woman made no remark, and leaped high into the air to strike at the incubus. He dodged, barely, and took a swipe at her with his large claws. She deflected with the staff and struck him with the fizzing and crackling electric probes. He took the full blast of it, and fell on to the rooftop, silently being electrocuted. The woman looked at the creature nonchalantly, and casually brushed debris off her dress before approaching him and inspecting to see the extent of his injuries, as well as guess how long he would be unconscious.

Not for long at all. He jumped up and struck the woman down, leering in inches from her face. Though she kicked and screamed, he pinned her down effortlessly and looked into her eyes, and seemed to bore into her soul.

“Now, now my dear, I’m not about to shoot the messenger. Or at least, harm the person I want to play as the messenger.”

“What do you want?” She asked coolly, regaining her composure as the incubus smiled down at her.

“Tell your masters that Lord S is in town. I look forward to seeing what the Order is attempting, now that I’m making myself public.”

“…Lord S…My god, you don’t mean…”

“The same, my dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m hungry for a woman more flesh than bolts. Until we meet again…”

And he spread his wings and flew up into the abysmal sky.

The once humble town of Cloginsmire was revered as the birth place of a god. The people there hailed the god Yydan, and spread their faith to the surrounding countryside. For the people of the country of Victalia were bound by geography and politics alone. They found themselves divided by faith and culture, and sometimes even by language.

Indeed, Victalia was seen as the emperor of all countries, at least in the Northern world. Armed with armadas of battle and trade ships, ready to conquer and control any land it set sight on, Victalia was a truly great and truly terrible land. In history, it was a land divided into small warring city states, brought together by a powerful if not tyrannical king. Tragedy followed ruler after ruler in a grapple for blood and rule over the country, until a group of lords and knights of the realm overthrew their leader and set up the first parliament.

Now Victalia is a bustling world of modern sciences and practices, though sometimes in the darkness there lurked traces of what once was; fear and ignorance and magic.

But the town of Cloginsmire was far removed from such things, or so it believed. The prophet of Yydan, the pious Nicholas Arken, revealed that his god would banish such darkness form the world, and magic was left for heathens and criminals, which incidentally were almost one and the same, if not in the eyes of the law then certainly in the eyes of the people.

But even the light of Yydan could not help but cast a shadow, and the people of Cloginsmire, if not the whole of Victalia, would tremble at the dark days approaching them

Lenora Edel was a young woman in the upper echelons of Cloginsmire’s society. While she was young, refined, and beautiful, she had a natural tendency to disturb the people around her. After her beloved mother, Josephine, had died, she was left in the care of her widowed aunt, Eleanor, where she grew up alongside her cousin, Susannah. In beauty, the two of them were equals but not rivals. They each had a special type of loveliness, unique to each girl. While they were both fair-skinned, Lenora’s hair was dark as night, while Susannah’s was yellow as the sun. And while Susannah possessed an innocent face and wide blue eyes, Lenora was mysterious and unreadable, with fathomless black eyes and a knowing smile.

And while Susannah would spend her time in worship of Yydan and the studies of religion, Lenora strove to be social with the maids of the household. When she was young, this was looked upon with endearment, but as she got older, perhaps at the age of fifteen or so, the problems began.

Lenora never knew what happened when she encountered the maids the same age as her. She greeted them, and then awoke as if after swooning, on a couch with her aunt and cousin giving her respectively stern and horrified looks.

One day, early in the morning, she was lifted out of the bed by a household automaton and put into the steam carriage her late uncle had insisted on having. Once well on their way to the destination, Lenora awoke to see her aunt sitting in a tense posture and a solemn grimace upon her countenance.

“Aunt Eleanor,” she said, confused and unsure whether or not she was dreaming, “Where are we going? It isn’t even dawn yet.”

“You will see.” She spoke sharply as she always did. Lenora was none too thrilled and wondered what was in store for her. Being so early in the morning, she could not fathom what required such urgency.

The steam powered carriage arrived into town more quickly and smoothly than a horse powered carriage would, and for that Lenora was grateful. She could look out the window and see where she had been taken. What she saw was beyond what she had imagined.

The plain wooden sign above the door read ‘Psychology Practice of Dr. Winston’. It was the only psychology office in all of Cloginsmire, since most that were suspected of mental deficiencies and problems were simply carted off to an asylum in the next town over. While Cloginsmire was certainly large enough to have its own asylum, the people there were far from willing to have any claim on what they considered the trash of society.

When Lenora hesitated to step out of the carriage, Madame Edel ordered the automaton footman to move her into the office by force. Lenora, knowing her chances against such a powerful machine, decided to come quietly into Dr. Winston’s office.

While the man she expected to see was old and gray, the doctor that stood before them was young, blond, and handsome, though possessing a serious demeanor and dark conservative clothes.

“Where is Dr. Winston?” Madame Edel asked the young man. He stiffly replied,

“He is not here at the moment, Madame. I have been told about your niece’s condition and I will be taking his place for the examination. My name is Dr. Lanway.”

“Hmph. Fine then, here is your patient.” She said, gesturing to Lenora.

“Very good, I shall take her into my office and examine and diagnose her there.”

Here Madame Edel looked appalled, “An unmarried man alone with my unwed niece? You must be joking.”

“I most certainly am not, I can assure you Madame. Doctors must spend time alone with their patients in order to see how they behave without any outside influences. Surely that sounds reasonable to you, especially when one considers the severity of the circumstances?”

Lenora deducted that the circumstances they spoke of had to do wither the strange episodes she had, but she wondered what possible mental ailment could be connected with it. Why take her to a psychologist’s office when surely a hospital would be better to treat her unusual seizures?

“Alright,” Madame Edel conceded, “I will allow the examination to take place without my presence. But be warned, young man, I will not tolerate any sort of impropriety.” She gave a stern glare to Lenora, “From either of you.”

Lenora took an affronted step back and Dr. Lanway turned his nose up in disdain, as if offended.

“Madame, I can assure you I have no designs on your niece, save to see her well and healthy. Now, Miss Edel, if you will kindly follow me into the back…”

Lenora wasn’t overtly suspicious of this Dr. Lanway, but she was still wary of such a man who seemed to not possess a sense of humor. Lenora was rather fond of people in good humor, though she was hard pressed to find many people with that particular quality.

Lenora followed Dr. Lanway into the office. It was rather sparse and formal, though not completely uninviting. It seemed to reflect the kind of person who worked there, not entirely unpleasant but not particularly charming either.

“Miss Edel,” Dr. Lanway started, “do you know why you’re here?”

Lenora took a seat facing her new doctor and said, “No, I’m afraid not, doctor. Might you tell me why my aunt has sent me here?”

“All in good time,” he said, taking out a notebook and jotting a few things down. He then looked up at her and said, “Now, Miss Edel, I have a few questions for you that I’d like you to answer truthfully. I ask these to all my clients to rule out certain factors that could affect my diagnosis. Again, please answer these truthfully. Do you hear voices?”

Lenora was taken aback by the question and promptly answered, “In my head? Of course not!”

“No need to raise your voice, Miss Edel, I’m just trying to make sure. Do you have any thoughts of harming yourself or others?”

“No.”

“How about intense paranoia; do you feel like there are people out to harm you?”

“No.”

Dr. Lanway made some more notes on his papers, and then turned back to Lenora.

“How about lapses in memory?”

Lenora looked down at her hands and pondered whether or not to tell this man the truth or not. Who was to say if he could be trusted? What would he do with the information if he got it? It was something frightful indeed, and she was afraid to say something. And yet…this man was, after all, a doctor, and things like this were kept in confidence. If he could explain her episodes, well, that would be one major problem taken care of and out of her life.

“Yes,” she said quietly, “I black out at random times, I’m never sure what happens to me.”

“Are you sure they’re random?” Dr. Lanway asked, “What do you remember doing before one of these ‘black outs’ as you call them?”

“The last thing I remember is that I was…talking to the maids. I talk to them sometimes, but they’ve been staying away from me lately.”

“And are you always talking with the maids before you loose consciousness?”

“No…I don’t think so… well, maybe. But surely that’s a coincidence, right?”

Dr. Lanway gave her a stern look, “Actually, I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all. You seem to be experiencing these episodes when you’re around the maids, and only then. There seems to be a trigger connecting them with the incidents. And I’m not saying them as individuals, but that the nature of your episodes indicates that the trigger has to do with young women being connected to your subconscious.”

“My subconscious? As in, something about the maids standing there makes me fall into such fits?”

“That’s exactly it, and I think I have a good idea as to the root of your problem.” While this was good news for Lenora, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something awful in store for her. The good doctor did not look pleased when he stated that he had solved this mystery. “Tell me, Miss Edel,” he said, “you’re sixteen, correct?”

“Yes doctor.”

“And you’ve never had any courters?”

“Not a one, sir.”

He jotted more things down. Always writing and Lenora was always trying to figure out what the significance of all this was. She was a patient person, but she wanted to know the cause for her acting so strangely.

The other story

Sun, 14 Sep 2008 17:29:05 GMT

Hamsteröron

Business at Quackraki and Ojoh’s new Hamsterear clinic was, surprising to them, nonexistent. Their premise was the space between two buildings in the Shibuya district, conveniently close to Harajuku- not inside it due to certain rather annoying restraining orders the pair received after propositioning to one too many cute lolitas (and groping them), but close enough to observe all the pretty girls going to Harajuku.

Their hopes were drained as more and more females passed by without giving them a second glance (or, worse, giving them a second glance and then taking off as fast as humanly possible, no matter how unstable their heels).

“Why isn’t anyone here?” Quackraki complained, “We’re selling them cheap. Really cheap. Unbelievably cheap! But no one’s coming…”

“Maybe our sign isn’t flashy enough.” Ojoh said, rubbing his chin with the hand that wasn’t holding his favorite syringe, which held the anesthetic (Sophia certainly hadn’t deserved such a privilege, but they could spare it for their lovely customers) to use during the operation.

“There’d be people here if we were doing cat ears,” Quackraki lamented, slumping down so that his chin touched their makeshift stand counter, “it’s always ‘Oooh! Neko-chan! Kawaii!’ but hamsterears are always underappreciated.”

“Like us.” Ojoh remarked bitterly.

“But, you know…” Quackraki thought aloud, “I might not think cat ears were so bad if it weren’t for that damn XYZ-7. Can’t stand him.”

“I know. The little brat almost bit my arm off the last time I gave him his injections.”

“I think that was ‘cause you laughed at him when he started to cry.”

“Oh shut up.”

They continued in this manner for quite a few hours, bored and disappointed. A few times there were some girls who seemed interested in the ears, but not interested in the unique payment they requested. With many a scream of ‘hentai’, the poor fetishists found themselves devoid of customers and, slowly, devoid of hope.

“I don’t understand it,” Ojoh said, “this is as cheap as I’m willing to lower the price to, anything less than a proper kiss just isn’t worth it.”

“Maybe using ‘slobbery’ isn’t the best way to describe those kisses though,” Quackraki mused, “we should try something more…enticing.”

“Oh? And what do you suggest?”

Quackraki shrugged, “French? French makes everything sound more enticing.”

“Damn those French! What’s so good about their kissing anyway? What’s wrong with Japanese kissing?”

“More tongue involved. And it’s some unwritten rule that everything French is romantic.”

“…even French Fries?”

“…I thought French Fries were Belgian.”

And there was silence for a bit.

“Hey, Ojoh?”

“Yes, Quackraki?”

“How long has it been?”

“…A couple of hours?”

“Hmmm…and how hot is it?”

“Something unbearable. I’d say 32°C at the very least.”

“Ah.”

“...Quackraki, why are you asking anyway?”

“Thought I was hallucinating.”

“…Hallucinating what?”

“Oh, there’s a blonde with really big tits walking towards us. Must be a mirage.”

But when Ojoh looked up, there actually was a shapely girl in a high school uniform, with purple eyes and red bangs. She looked up at the sign, and then down at the two gaping men. She smiled.

“You’re doctors?” She asked sweetly. They nodded, dumbstruck. “And you implant hamsterears?”

“Would you like some?” Quackraki asked, coming to his senses, “It doesn’t cost much, just-“

“-give us a kiss each. On the lips.” Ojoh interrupted, looking the schoolgirl up and down.

“French kissing.” Quackraki added (they had changed the sign after some consideration).

“Oh,” the girl said with a small pout, “but I don’t want to get an operation, you see. I’m delicate so I react badly to…surgical things.” She propped her elbows on the counter and leaned in towards the drooling males. “It’s too bad… I think hamsterears are really kinda…sexy…”

Their eyes glimmered with perverse delight. They both were itching to simply pull the pretty young thing behind the stand and ravish her, but they were fixed by the hypnotic motion of her lips and her fingers as they drummed against her face.

Suddenly, the cellphone at her hip began to ring. She straightened up and answered.

“Hello?” there was a pause, and then she said, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Where are you? Shopping? No, I’m in Shibuya right now- I was going to meet you but,” she paused in conversation to wink at the doctors, “I got a little distracted. I’m talking to a pair of gentlemen about hamsterear implants. Yes. Yes. No, not for me, silly! For you! I know how much you love hamsterears. Yeah, don’t worry, you just finish your shopping and head over to Shibuya when you’re done. Take your time. You’re welcome. Bye-bye!” She hung up and clipped the phone back on her skirt.

“Gomen nasai,” she said in a sweet little voice, “that was just a friend of mine. We’ve both moved here from America. She’ll be here in a couple of hours for the operation.”

“And…will she be paying for the operation?” Ojoh asked hungrily.

“And is she as pretty as you?” Quackraki added.

“Well…she’s frankly a bit of a prude and has never French kissed anyone, and to top it off she’s a lesbian. And no, she’s not prettier than me, dammit.”

“We can’t do the operation unless she pays us,” Quackraki said, “so if she’s not going to pay, she can’t have the ears.”

“But…” the gorgeous blonde batted her eyelashes, “what if I paid for her?”

“Hmmm…” both men turned around for a quick whispering conference, then turned back to the girl.

“Well,” Ojoh said, “there are…uh, certain issues regarding the…uh… e-thick-ell? Ethical! The ethical procedures of this transaction.”

“It’s all in the rules. Doctor’s rules.” Quackraki stated with conviction, “and…we can’t perform surgeries on the people who aren’t paying.”

“What if,” the girl asked, leaning forward a bit so that they could have a better view of her breasts against her tight sailor-girl shirt, “I paid in full for her?” She hoisted herself onto the counter so to show off her smooth, creamy legs and her tease of a skirt. Running her hand up and down her leg, she asked huskily, “So…what do you think, doctors?” And with another devastating wink, the fiendish doctors grabbed her by the wrists and the trio disappeared deeper into the alleyway.

Quite some time later, an unusual pair was eating ice-cream on the Harajuku Bridge. The first was an adolescent brunette dressed as an adorable little goth-loli outfit and sporting a pair of very adorable little hamsterears. The second was a man who appeared to be in his early twenties, with long blonde hair, red bangs, purple eyes, and a neck adorned with hickeys.

“Thank you so much Azy!” The girl said as she petted her new ears, “They’re absolutely darling! And I’m glad I had time to find all of these wonderful Harajuku clothes!”

“Hmph. At least you’re happy.” He remarked bitterly, biting into his ice-cream with a vengeance.

“What’s the matter, Azy?” She asked, looking at her companion with concern.

“I don’t think you’d understand this, Fortuna.”

“Just tell me,” she said, “didn’t everything go as planned?”

“The thing is, Fortuna, when you said that you wanted to use my body, albeit my genderbent body, to get those little ears, I was fine with that. Doing a couple of older men in an alleyway in broad daylight? My cuppa tea. Doing it while in a teenage girl’s body, fitted sailor uniform and all? Heck, why didn’t I think of it myself? But I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“…What?”

“Fortuna…you said ‘doing it with a pair of old men’ but failed to mention that it would be the absolute WORST SEX I’VE EVER HAD!”

She noticeably gulped, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t know…how bad, exactly?”

“Let me,” he said, throwing his ice-cream away and putting his hands on her shoulders to establish a rather intense eye-contact, “explain things in great clarity for you. I am Asmodeus of the Sinful Brothers. My vice is Lust. I have had more sex in this past year alone then most people have in their lifetimes. This is not my first time having sex in a woman’s body- I’ve done it loads of times before. But I swear this is the first time I’ve ever had to fake an orgasm. EVER!”

Fortuna turned a deep shade of red.

“TMI, Azy,” she muttered, looking away sheepishly, “I really had no idea that they were…that bad.”

“Well they were and now I’m depressed.” He let go of her to lean over the bridge and pout.

She patted his back and said, “There there,” not knowing how else to console him.

“It’s just not fair,” he whined, “I mean, you got the hamsterears you wanted, so you’re happy, those two imbeciles got a roll in the hay with a demon of lust for cripes sake, and I doubt they’ll ever get a better fuck than that, so they’re happy. I’m the only one who’s not happy!”

Fortuna thought for a while and then reached into her bag. She drew from it the two objects she used to solve most of her problems- a pencil and a piece of paper. Asmodeus looked at her quizzically as she jotted down a little note.

“Alright,” she said, “this states that ‘I, Fortuna Storyteller, Queen of the land of Night and ruler of all its denizens, decree that as a reward for accomplishing a traumatizing feat so as to assist me, Asmodeus Lust is entitled to an entire twenty four hours where his brother, Lord Lucifer Vainglory, must submit to his will and perform every task that Asmodeus requests of him, no matter how perverse.’ Sound good?”

“Make it forty eight hours and it’s all good.”

“Forty eight it is.”

And, with that, the demon, the writer, and a mountain of shopping bags stuffed with loli fashion, disappeared into thin air.

E.D.E.N. Fanfiction!

Sun, 14 Sep 2008 17:24:38 GMT

The wonderful, talented, and glorious chigrima has begun the cracktacular story E.D.E.N, which is quickly gaining popularity in the little corner of the internet I visit. For her and silvestris's birthdays, I wrote some fanfiction about the series ^_^U Unfortunately, both of them have a few of my own characters sneak into the series. Hope you enjoy them anyway.

Two to Tango

A Story of Gods, Mortals, and Sapient Water Lilies

It was hard for Xochipili to say exactly what had happened to him. One minute, he was trying to break up magical duel between to of his younger siblings, and the next he found himself in the middle of a dense jungle- obviously the effect of taking a hit by those idiotic little brats, but surely nothing that couldn’t be undone.

Still, as he took a tentative step from his landing point, he could sense that all was Not Well. When he brushed his hand over a flower on the forest ground, it did not curl around his hand and caress his fingers as the ones back home might have. In fact, it had the audacity to bite him. He smited it and went on his way, cursing the lack of respect in the local flora and vowing to figure out why they were suddenly turning against their Lord and Master.

The rest of the jungle was just as uncompromising- his fine and delicate clothes were ripped into worthless rags by the tree branches and various rocks, his sleek black hair was getting caught in various plants as he walked passed them and they refused to let go. He even asked nicely but they didn’t obey him. So he smited them too, and hoped it would teach the rest a lesson.

Night had begun to fall as Xochipili trudged on through the foreign jungle, muttering all the ruthless punishments he would inflict on his siblings- damn the fact that they were still toddlers, they would pay for this!

He shoved away the hanging ivy in his path and found a setting much more to his liking: a clearing with a lake, a view of the moon, and some lovely water lilies. He smirked at this sudden good fortune and approached the lake when he noticed a figure in white approaching him. ‘Ha!’ he thought, ‘A mortal! He will surely give me the respect I deserve.’

“You there! Human!” He shouted in a loud and commanding voice, “You stand in the presence of Xochipili, God of Flowers.” Saying his name and title was rather important. He found that mortals couldn’t keep the different gods straight, what with there being a few hundred of them. “I command you to tell me where I am.”

The mortal looked momentarily shocked, then a bit confused, then looked at him carefully and smiled.

“You are in my home in Costa Rica, O lord. I am but a humble botanist, and I am called Cathetel.”

“I have never heard of this ‘Costa Rica’. I will not tolerate lies, human.”

Cathetel walked closer to him, he had a very graceful walk, Xochipili thought; perhaps he really wasn’t a man under that coat.

“But of course I would never lie to you, Lord Xochipili. God of Flowers, you say? In that case, consider me your avid devotee, for I enjoy nothing more than studying and…enjoying the beauty of plant life. In fact, I had come out here to check on my pride and joy, the water lilies.” He gestured to the pool, where a variety of little multi-colored flowers were wriggling about. Xochipili held out his hand to them, and they eagerly curled around it. The god smiled knowingly- these plants had some respect, at least; although it did take a bit of effort to get them to let go.

Cathetel produced a black box, seemingly from nowhere, and set it on the ground. Xochipili jumped back as music flowed out from it, a fast moving melody that had the water lilies shaking about in what could only be described as total bliss.

“I learned that my beloved plants share my adoration of latino music, this is one of my favorite tangos- I have yet to hear anything to trump an Argentine Tango as lovely as this.” He unbuttoned his white coat and tossed it aside. “Do you dance tango, my lord?”

“I’ve never…heard of this ‘tango’.” He admitted.

“I can teach you if you like.” There was a glimmer in his eyes that Xochipili simply didn’t trust, but there was something enticing about learning the kind of dance that accompanied such exotic music.

“Yes, show me.” He commanded.

“Oh Lord Xochipili,” Cathetel said, “I’m afraid you don’t understand. The tango is danced with a partner, if I am to show you, it would be with me leading your steps.”

“Fine,” he muttered, “if it is the only way to learn.”

Suddenly Cathetel had one hand in Xochipili’s and the other around his waist. Xochipili felt strands of Cathetel’s hair against his face and did his best not to show discomfort. A dance like this, after all, might help him to impress Tzanusade, the love of his life (if not also unfortunately his older sister).

“Let us begin,” Cathetel said with his lips on Xochipili’s ear, “when I move forward, you move back. Let’s just have a little fun and see where it goes.” And suddenly they were off, Cathetel guiding the flower god and Xochipili trying to keep up with the botanist. It was hard enough to figure out where his feet were supposed to go, never mind the fact that Cathetel’s hands kept…moving around. And when Cathetel wrapped his leg around Xochipili’s waist and threw his head back to a sudden accent in the music, Xochipili shamefully admitted to himself that the whole endeavor was quite, for lack of a better term, sexy.

But his thoughts were as confused as his dance steps. He certainly didn’t think guys were attractive beyond a passing glance. That was for weirdoes like his half brother Audreyllis, who apparently enjoyed sexing up the King of Winter instead of hating him like normal creatures did. It was impossible to concentrate against the music and the movement, so he let the thought slide but oh so secretly longed for Cathetel to do that trick with his leg again.

He was so obviously being controlled, but he rather enjoyed it. He enjoyed his mistresses being a little dominant (and his sister dear could be as dominant as she wanted), so there was no real problem with letting Cathetel spin him around and then lean into a dive…

His hand ran up his leg, down his leg, up to his chest, down to his thigh, and Xochipili felt the horrible urge to make some kind of noise that would convey exactly how much he enjoyed the sensations. He swallowed and came back up from the dive, following Cathetel around and around with the strange dance, only partially conscious of how they seemed to be pulling closer and closer together, hardly conscious of how Cathetel’s lips seemed to have migrated to his neck, and completely unaware of how the human had stopped putting on a façade of decency and let his hands wander freely. This physical sensation was Xochiplili’s one true weakness, having another being touch him, especially touch him with such skill and dexterity, was his only true pleasure in his eternal life. Then the scientist made another example of crafty legwork and Xochipili didn’t think to restrain the sharp intake of breath.

“Cathetel…” he all but begged. The mortal smiled a truly triumphant smile, and they fell, kissing, into the water lily pool.

Not dead yet

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 14:43:02 GMT

This started as a character bio. I swear.

Featuring: Queen Sylfiva, Fortuna(me) and Rose Calliope Storyteller

Name: Sylfiva
Age: 30
Species: Murudai (Human)
Occupation: Queen
City: Vildkatt, on the pseudo-continent ‘Ring’ in Murtra (Mortal Realm)
Eye color: Green
Hair color: Black wi_

Rose Storyteller stopped typing, got up from her seat, and walked across the lab to inspect the work in progress- namely, the female-shaped thing suspended in an oversized test tube, hooked up to wires and a breathing mask and floating rather comfortably in viscous green…stuff. The atmosphere of the place was definitely out of her element, but she admitted that the Scholars certainly knew what they were doing when they created the Character Lab. The characters created in that room were great successes- the combination of science and inspiration proved to be surprisingly effective, even though Rose, one of the older Muses, felt a sort of attachment to methods that involved magic, divine revelation, or just giving her Writer a good smack when she was least expecting it. She bit back a laugh and observed what was to be the benevolent Queen Sylfiva: her role in the story was very vague, but Rose could see a great potential in her; she saw strength and triumph in this one’s future, a minor character for sure, but a great influence and support for Audreyllis, and he was certainly going to need her help...

Rose sighed. She was getting far too sidetracked and needed to complete her more mundane tasks before contemplating wonderful things like plot. Now she needed to focus on hair. Fortuna had said that Sylfiva wasn’t supposed to be based too much off of Silvestris, but what was considered ‘too much’? She was pretty sure that the actual person had brown hair, but her avatar’s was black and silver. Perhaps just black hair would work, then changing the eye color to purple or something. And then the ears; Fortuna rather liked the pointed ears; she thought they were cute, and Rose rather agreed. Besides, among the races of Murtra there was one group of humans with pointed ears- as a ruler of the ‘melting pot’ of the Mortal Realm, Sylfiva was more likely than not a descendant of many ethnicities.
Walking back to the computer she continued:

Hair: Black
Height: 5’5”
Skin tone: Light Tan
Hobbies: Art_

She stopped again to think. No, that wasn’t right. Art isn’t her hobby, it’s her passion. It’s her life, her joy, her raison d’être. If anyone were to dismiss Fortuna’s love of writing as a mere ‘hobby’, Rose knew that the two of them would be livid. She changed the entry.

Hobbies: Ruling, Reading, Games, Bantering with Neve_

The door to the Character Lab opened to admit Fortuna Storyteller, who was grinning from ear to ear and practically danced her way over to her beloved Muse.
“Hello darling,” she said, giving Rose a hug, “how are things going here?”
“Sylfiva is coming along fine, take a look yourself.” The young Writer inspected the growing human in the test tube and nodded.
“She looks lovely, mea Rosa, thank you so much for filling out the boring stuff.” The Muse laughed, continuing to type out the data sheet.
“It’s no trouble dear. I’m rather fascinated by what the Scholars have done here. The machines aren’t that hard to work, but I can’t imagine what sort of things must have gone into constructing the devices themselves.”
Fortuna ran a hand through Rose’s thick red hair, saying, “Stuff like that isn’t hard for Scholars. Now the fun part, that’s what’s tricky for them; the intricacy of the plot and the raw emotion of the characters, the hours spent finding the absolute best word or phrase…” the girl embraced her Muse again, inhaling a light sweet scent from Rose’s hair, not unlike her namesake. Rose turned her head and gave the girl a peck on the cheek.
“I take it you’ve been checking up on Murtra? How are things there?”
Fortuna beamed and said,
“Couldn’t be better! I’ve toured around the continents and the Ring, the cities are shaping up and we’re finding where we want to put mountain ranges and rivers. The Winter Realm is absolutely gorgeous; you should really come and see it when you’re done here.”
“I’ll just take your word for it. Flowers in the snow stand about the same chance as icicles in hell.”
Fortuna rolled her eyes. “You’re not delicate, stop pretending to be.”
Rose punched away at the keys, recording certain royal duties that poor Sylfiva would have to accomplish: mostly amounting to stacks of paperwork and participating in the occasional conference with leaders of merchant guilds and the other four rulers of the Ring, not to mention pointless travels to the Church of Ozmundon to be lectured at, along with all the other kings and queens in the realm.
Fortuna watched her type and continued to talk about and motion her excitement for the Audreyllis series.
“I’ve been talking with the Scholars about the demonic Drokkukai, and we’ve been putting together a chaotic force, a type of magic that exists to counteract Fate. It’s kind of like a… a supernatural monkey wrench to throw into the works, if we’re keeping with a machine metaphor.”
“Can we really do that though?” Rose asked, turning to glance at the eager young Writer, “Make Fate a machine? I mean, would it conflict with the high fantasy genre we’re trying to go with?”
“Nonsense!” Fortuna exclaimed, “Fate is a goddess, a beautiful woman made of gold, a giant with six wings and a voice that resounds across oceans, a will that touches all living things.” Rose sensed a rant coming on, so she stopped typing. “The God of Order, Ozmundon, builds her to restore peace to the worlds and effectively defeat the Chaotic Beings, the Drokkukai, but he builds her knowing that the cost is the free will of every living thing.” She took to pacing around the room, and Rose smiled and let her continue. “The goddess from which I fashioned my penname, Fortuna, is depicted as blindfolded. But this girl, this monster, activates when her eyes open, she consciously enforces the will she has been commanded to enforce. With Fate under his command, Ozmundon rules all things- the thoughts and actions of everyone.

“That’s why a chaotic force is necessary, a power that Ozmundon has no control over, something that can destroy his plans and reset the balance of a chaotic orderly world. Chaos is seen as devilish magic- Drokkukai and their descendants can use it from birth, and normal humans can learn to manipulate it through years of practice, but Ozmundon forbids it because he knows it would foil everything he’s sought to achieve.”
“This of course,” Rose responded, “makes it the perfect instrument for his demise, since it is a forbidden magic that he cannot easily counter and Audreyllis is rather conveniently half-Drokkukai.”
Fortuna nodded, and having meandered over to Sylfiva’s pod sometime during the conversation, began to tap on the glass.
“She’s very pretty,” Fortuna randomly noted, quickly adding, “not as pretty as you of course, but still.” It was cute how her Writer treated her like a human sometimes, fretting about making her jealous and making sure she said nothing offensive. Very cute.
“You’ve based some of the other Ringleaders off of your school friends. What do you plan to do about the age difference?” Rose asked.
Fortuna thought for a moment. “I’ll make them all older versions of themselves,” she decided, “mature versions. All of them will keep their artistic temperaments and silly streaks, but they will have keen senses of how to work together and benefit their cities.”
Rose shook her head; Silvestris was fine when it came to mature, the others would probably need a bit of stretching, perhaps beyond recognition. She saved the in-progress character sheet and watched Fortuna marvel at Sylfiva. Together, as Writer and Muse, they would weave stories and destinies together and travel to worlds beyond reality. Two as one, she thought pleasantly, and one as two

Proof my writer's block is over...more or less

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 17:55:26 GMT

Chapter III

Audreyllis sat perfectly still, trying his best to ignore the faces that were either shocked, disgusted, or, in Serpina and Kosopie's cases, amused. He managed, through pride and poise alone, to avoid squirming in his seat, but even then his mind was reeling with possible punishments that could come of speaking out of turn.

Ozmundon slowly folded his hands together, from the looks of the other council members, this was a sure warning sign, and gave Audreyllis a steady look. Audreyllis found that, for all of his skill for deciphering facial expressions, he could not discern what in all things Emperor Ozmundon was thinking. The God of Order spoke with a deep, authoritative voice that resounded throughout the hall,

"Were you not warned to keep silent about matters that did not concern you?"

Audreyllis humbly bowed his head and said nothing.

"Well I," said a voice laden with ice and malice, "am very interested to know why he thinks these matters concern him. With your permission, Ozmundon, I would like to hear the child speak."

This annoyed Audreyllis quite a bit- he was not a child, the very fact that he was in the council proved that, but to argue the matter would be foolish, so he merely awaited the Emperor's decision. Ozmundon gave him a stiff nod, as good a cue as any.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn," he said with an ample amount of modesty, "and for causing such a disruption in the council."

"You seem to have an interesting opinion about these matters," Serpina said with a poorly hidden grin, "care to share your thoughts, young prince?"

Glaerial quickly stood and implored the council,

"Please, he is a foolish boy, a reckless, newly turned adult. He is rebellious by nature and doesn't mean a word he says."

"But whether this is the result of his heritage or his upbringing, we will never know." Domdel muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Though this remark offended Glaerial greatly, she wouldn't dare give insult to the son of the Emperor, and instead clenched her teeth and sat down again. "I do wonder though," the High Prince continued, "what it is that he has to say on this matter."

"If your highness would give me leave to speak, I'd be happy to inform you." Audreyllis said, perhaps more cheekily than he should have. His mother glared at him and silently commanded him to humble himself before the Highest of High, but Audreyllis only smiled more- he might as well make use of the fact that all eyes were on him.

"Thank you all for allowing me this time to speak," he began, "and though my beloved mother might dislike the…controversy of my words, it's reasonable enough to believe that if I'm old enough to attend a council in Sheoltra, I'm old enough to have my own opinion in matters of divine policy."

There were grumbles and mutters throughout the room, mostly from his mother's end of the table. Audreyllis noticed that she was red in the face from restraining her anger, and the fact that she had to restrain that anger made him unbelievably happy.

"I have had the audacity to say that the war between my mother, Queen Glaerial, and the renowned King Locyrex," his eyes flickered to the king, whose face had a most unsatisfying lack of expression, so he looked back at his enraged mother and said, "is an utter waste of time, energy, and lives- more so than any war I've heard or read about." Here he paused to let that soak in and continued, “Wars are waged for greed, for honor, for justice, for a great many reasons- but this war is fueled by nothing more than the hatred that these two individuals,” here he gestured to both ends of the table, “have for each other. Wars should not be waged over personal grudges and vendettas- they are fought by large groups because the matters affect large groups. I know of many wars between human leaders where this is the case, but to see such feuds between divine beings, who should be setting the example? It is simply deplorable.”

Without leave to do so, Tzanusade stood and said to Audreyllis,

“You think that this war does not affect all of us? You’ve never seen a single snowflake, much less the blizzards Locyrex sends to bring the mortal realm to ruin.”

“My hatred for that murderer is justified!” Glaerial exclaimed, “I am ashamed that any child born of my womb would think otherwise! How dare you call my efforts a waste?!”

“My hatred for that conniving hypocrite perfectly justified,” Locyrex said without facing Audreyllis, “and though I do not hold any delusions about the state of the mortal realm without Glaerials interference, I can easily say that I would be much happier to see her dead.”

“Whatever quarrel you have between you is your own problem,” Audreyllis said, “but why involve the lives of your people and the lives of the mortals? All I’m saying is that it would be much easier to just settle the dispute between yourselves, not resort to war.”

Serpina laughed and asked him,

“Are you proposing that Glaerial and Locyrex engage in a duel? They’d kill each other.”

Audreyllis shrugged and smirked,

“Well, then they’d finish each other off and end the war with minimal bloodshed. It sounds like a peaceable solution to me.”

“How ironic,” Domdel remarked, looking at Audreyllis, “that the spawn of a Drokkukai should talk of peace.”

Audreyllis always responded to such insults with courtesy and a subtle tone of sarcasm, “How so, Highest Prince? War is most inconvenient, no matter what one’s species is.”

“Drokkukai are the very essence of Chaos,” he said sharply, “and I can think of nothing more chaotic than war and all that war brings.”

“On the contrary,” Audreyllis said with even more insolence, “war is very Orderly, all creatures are used to large-scale combats and have been fighting since Creation. I’m certain that if we ever found ourselves in times of absolute peace, no one would know what to do with themselves and Chaos would reign over all.”

A hush ran over the room. Words like that, suggesting that Chaos could usurp Order, were never to be spoken, especially not plainly in front of Emperor Ozmundon. Being half-Drokkukai, it was almost a threat.

Of course, Audreyllis did not intend it as a threat. He was hardly one to side with the Drokkukai; he had never seen a full Drokkukai before, he had never met his father or glimpsed the cursed city Druzayne. But still, he was amused to see the reaction that it instilled within the other gods. They felt threatened by him. He rather enjoyed making people feel threatened.

“Your son has quite a tongue,” Locyrex remarked snidely, “he’d do best to keep it in line or one of these days he’ll find it removed.”

“We have heard enough from you,” Ozmundon said, “be seated and speak no more.” Audreyllis knew that the emperor was not to be baited, so he sat down and bowed his head, trying his best to look ashamed for his actions. “Glaerial, if there are ever any incidents like this from one of your children, there will be consequences.”

“He will be punished upon our return to the Summer Realm,” Glaerial said quietly, “severely punished.”

“Perhaps you should be a bit lax on him,” Kosopie remarked, “after all, he has done nothing to merit severe punishment. He was talking to me when he made his remark- I asked him what he thought of the war and he responded honestly. Then he was asked to explain himself and he did so honestly. He may need to soften his tongue, but he has done nothing of great consequence.”

“What he said was unheard of. He has all but declared war on we Sheolai, and you think to side with him?

“My emperor,” Kosopie said testily, “he is hardly an adult and therefore reckless in his speech. How could he possibly declare war on us? What army does he have that could breach the gates of Sheoltra? What power does he have that could threaten you?”

“He is half-Drokkukai, a bringer of Chaos.”

“He is half-Gyaevai, a bringer of beauty. In the brief moment we spoke with each other, I used my mind’s eye to search his soul,” this revelation caused Audreyllis great discomfort, but he made no show of it, “and he is not a wicked being.”

Audreyllis couldn’t help but pale a little at her words- he never believed that a Sheolai would defend him. He was shocked by the show of kindness and was, secretly, very grateful for it.

“Wickedness can be buried far from even your far-reaching eye.” Ozmundon said dismissively, “Covering evil with beauty is, after all, his domain- remember that he is the creature that gave venom to snakes and spiders, he is the one that turns flowers and berries into instruments of death. You would do best not to defend a Drokkukai, much less the God of Poison.”

Marriage Counseling

Wed, 02 Jul 2008 18:10:46 GMT

This is a cracky little piece that involves a crossover between characters from the Audreyllis series and some other OCs from a story still in very early development stages.
Takes place after the entirety of the Audreyllis series and has mild spoilers (mentions of character deaths XD).

Warnings: Uhh...gay marriage, hints of incest, and psychologists loosing their sanity? Oh, and it's rather unedited and probably needs work.

Marriage Counseling

The good doctor was sipping coffee at his desk, looking through his files and sorting his papers, when two men appeared out of thin air.

“We’re here seeking your counsel in regards to our upcoming nuptials,” said the taller man, a figure pale as death possessing ghostly white hair adorned with a gleaming silver crown and cold eyes that seemed to lack irises, “one Fortuna Storyteller has informed us that you are the best doctor in your practice. Would you agree?”

The doctor’s hands shook as he set the coffee cup on the table.

“Who are you?” He asked with a defensive tone, “Where did you come from? What do you want from me?”

The shorter man, whose red hair was shorter in comparison to his companion and wore a golden circlet sculpted to appear as a pair of serpents, gave a slight bow of his head and said to the doctor,

“I am Prince Audreyllis of the Summer Monarchy, the God of Poison, and the future husband of this man before you, King Locyrex of the Winter Realm, God of Ice and Snow. A woman I believe to be our mutual friend, a Fortuna Storyteller, has recommended this so-called ‘marriage counseling’ to help settle any lingering disputes before we enter into matrimony.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” the doctor said slowly, “do you even have an appointment?”

“Are you not Dr. Alan Chillings?” Locyrex asked.

“I… am.”

“Then we should be there on your list.” He said, pointing to the agenda book Dr. Chillings had on his desk. Cautiously, the doctor picked it up and checked the date and time; sure enough, his secretary had penned in that ‘Audreyllis and Locyrex’ should have their appointment at that time.

“…And you say you know Mrs. Storyteller?” Fortuna was an amateur writer and a bratty heiress that, for some unknown reason, decided to play the patroness for Dr. Chillings’ practice, without asking to see a single penny returned to her, after he declined an offer to follow his degree and his interests by joining the team in the Seward Institution, which dealt with people inflicted with bizarre mental disorders. Alan had always thought that she would want free counseling for her own marriage, but she and her wife, Rose, seemed to get along eerily well and never sought help or advice from him.

“The Storytellers are our trusted recorders,” Audreyllis supplied, “and seem to understand the ways of marriage, so it seemed wise to take their advice and seek yours.”

Alan processed this information: they did have an appointment, and since his secretary had left a little star in the corner, they had paid in advance for it, so who was he to judge if they were dressed more than a little odd and seemed to materialize into his office out of nothingness?

“Alright,” he said “just have a seat on the couch. Yes, that…that thing behind you. So…where do you live currently?”

“Audreyllis lives with me in the Winter Realm.”

“It’s a few leagues north of the mainland of Murtra.” Audreyllis added, as if that would help Dr. Chillings in the least.

“I…see…” he said, making a mark on his clipboard, “and when is your wedding?”

“We have set the date for the Spring Equinox,” Audreyllis said, “and we’re hoping to hold it in Vildkatt, since the Ring is fairly easy to access for all the guests that will be coming, especially my siblings, who live in the Summer Realm.”

Dr. Chillings let all of that fly over his head except the once piece of information he could grasp,

“Ah, you have siblings, Audreyllis? How many?”

“Twenty…four? Since Tzanusade died, I guess twenty-four.”

“Legitimately.” Locyrex remarked, only to be elbowed by his fiancée.

“Ah… that’s too bad. About this San-oo-saad…?”

“Tzanusade,” Audreyllis corrected, “and it really isn’t too bad at all, I hated her.”

“If it’s not too much to ask, how did she…”

“Die? I killed her,” Audreyllis said with a smile, “because she was trying to assassinate Locyrex.”

“And why was she…”

“Trying to kill me? To put an end to Winter and unleash her plan of universal conquest, after she usurped Glaerial’s throne, of course.”

“…Glaerial?” Alan asked, looking at the two gods with much confusion.

“My mother,” Audreyllis said, “the former Queen of Summer.” Much as he dreaded the answer, Dr. Chillings just had to ask,

“…Former?”

“Locyrex killed her,” Audreyllis said, slipping his hand over his lover’s, “and now my younger sister, Nezzarade, has taken over the throne.”

“…What about your father?”

“Oh, Locyrex killed him too,” he said offhandedly, “before I was born, he didn’t know that it was my father.”

“…Why did you kill your future in-laws?”

Locyrex’s gaze turned from chilly to frigid and the room suddenly became much colder.

“That vile woman killed my daughter;” he said venomously, “the death I gave her was too swift and merciful to befit her crime.” Audreyllis edged in closer to Locyrex, and for a single silent minute, the two men held each other, completely unashamed, until the temperature gradually resumed its former state, at which point they separated to resume the counseling.

“You see, Dr. Chillings,” Audreyllis said, “my mother was absolutely out of her mind. She was a delusional, hypocritical, homicidal, nymphomaniac, who kept many of my siblings and me captive in the Summer Realm, and exiled me to Murtra for five years without the aid of my powers, who would willingly sacrifice the children she claims to treasure above all else for her own self-preservation…and who ruthlessly murdered the Winter Princess in the name of her idiotic dogmas and selfish designs. Please let it be no surprise that I’m rather happy to see my mother dead than alive, as she has been nothing but a hindrance to the happiness of those I love.”

“Well, um, yes of course. You did what- ah- had to be done. But is there anything you two personally want to resolve with…each other before you wed?”

They sat still for a moment, until Audreyllis spoke again.

“There is…one thing I wanted to address with you, Locyrex, and I hope that you’re not too upset with me for bringing this up…” Dr. Chillings and Locyrex looked at him expectantly, the first looking a bit nervous, the second looking impassive, concealing his actual dreads that were forming with increasing speed and horror.

“There is far too much white in the castle,” Audreyllis said, “and, though I know it’s your favorite color and symbolic of your realm and all of that, I just don’t think the entire castle has to be one color.”

Locyrex sighed in relief, having temporarily feared things like secret lovers coming to light or other such things. Alan Chillings, on the other hand, felt much worse about the revelation. How, by all he had ever learned about psychology and all that was ever common sense to him, could Audreyllis switch gears from talking about the death of his own family members, how his husband-to-be made an orphan out of him, how the blood of his own sister was on his hands, and then talk about how a color scheme was vexing him?!

But, being a patient and well-schooled doctor, he merely cleared his throat and said,

“What do you think about this, Locyrex?”

“I thought you liked my castle. I’m rather offended that you don’t.”

“No, no, I like the castle; I just don’t like being the only thing in the entirety of it that isn’t pure white.”

“What’s wrong with white?” Locyrex asked, pointing to his hair and garments.

“It’s everywhere, that’s what wrong with it! The walls, floors, and ceilings are white, the doors are white, the decorations are white, the furniture is white, and the food is white!”

“I fail to see the problem.”

“My dear lord and love, I’d like to relate a little piece of wisdom I picked up from talking with the mortals: there exists what they call ‘too much of a good thing’. I’m not saying that white is bad, I’m not saying that I want everything painted a different color, but I am saying that everything does not have to be so monochromatic.”

Locyrex started to glare, and that’s where Dr. Chillings cut in.

“Now, Locyrex, do you think there’s a way for the both of you to compromise and perhaps introduce some different colors to your…uh…castle?”

“I suppose,” he muttered, “what is it that you would prefer, Audreyllis my dear?”

“Well, we can keep everything mostly white,” he said, “if that would make you happy, but perhaps also put in light blue for some of the rooms? I know you want to keep up a certain motif, but I’m just saying we could add a little variety.”

“I haven’t changed a thing about my castle for the past ten-thousand years,” Locyrex said stubbornly, “and I see no reason to start.”

“Except,” Dr. Chillings added, “that Audreyllis will be your husband, and therefore you have to compromise so to accommodate him.”

Being outvoted in the matter, Locyrex consented and agreed to add a very light blue to some of the rooms.

“And,” Auderyllis added, “I want red curtains and bedspreads in our chamber.”

“Why red?” Locyrex asked, exasperated.

“What’s wrong with red?!” Audreyllis countered, pointing to his hair.

“It doesn’t sound like too horrible of a request to me.” Alan said timidly, because Locyrex was looking more and more annoyed. Eventually, Locyrex consented on this point as well.

Dr. Chillings wanted this session over with as soon as humanly possible- he felt that if he had to listen to these gods discuss their lives or debate their plans any further, his head would just implode.

“Now,” he said, “anything else you’d like to discuss? Either of you?”

“Yes,” said Locyrex, much to Alan’s dismay, “about those siblings of yours, Audreyllis…”

“We’ve already agreed that Nezzarade can visit when she wants;” Audreyllis reminded him, “so don’t go back on that.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Locyrex said tersely, “but there are certain individuals I’d prefer to see banned from the realm.”

“Alright.”

“Liral and Sibene are not welcome- their destructive tendencies would tear the island to shreds. And that idiotic brother of yours, Xochipili, had best not even come close.”

“Done and done, I don’t like them anyway. But Aviena can visit, right? You like her.”

“Yes, she is welcome, her fiancée as well.”

“Wait,” Audreyllis said, puzzled, “Aviena’s getting married? I haven’t heard of this.”

“To Saelin, I think.” Locyrex remarked.

“No way…”

“Excuse me,” Chillings cut in, “but who is…”

“Aviena is my sister.” Audreyllis explained

“…Saelin?”

Audreyllis smiled and said, “My brother.”

Alan took a long drink of coffee and wished it was vodka.

“Well,” he said, looking at the clock, “it appears to have been an hour, so I need to prepare for my next clients. You two seem to get along quite well, and I wish you many happy years together.”

And, with that, he ran out the door to the front desk and with a rather concise “I quit”, fled the building to seek a saner occupation.

“So,” said Dr. Jack Garrison to Dr. Alan Chillings a few hours later, “you want to apply for a position at the Seward Institution? Just to let you know, we see some strange things here, and there’s only a few people who can stand up to the challenge of so much insanity in one place. Think you’re up to it?”

“I think that the next two words out of my mouth will convince you that I am very well-qualified to join you.”

“Hey, confident, I like that. Okay, what was your former occupation?”

“Marriage counselor.”

Dr. Garrison extended his hand across the desk and said,

“Welcome to the Seward Asylum, I hope you enjoy working here.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Audreyllis: Prince Poison (Chapter II)

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 00:03:02 GMT

Comments are always welcome- I'd like to know what people think (if anything)!

Chapter II

At his first glance of the city, Audreyllis was utterly awed. The ground beneath him was perfectly flat, smooth, and seemed to be made of gold, and the buildings were designed with splendor he knew could not be matched. Every tower, every archway, was designed with absolute precision; the buildings did not look like they had been put together piece by piece- they rather appeared to have been formed out of molten gold to create seamless structures. What’s more, everything in the city glowed with the warmest light imaginable. At first, Audreyllis reasoned that the structures were made of substances that reflected the sun’s light, but then he remembered that the sun was below them, he had flown past it to get to Sheoltra. The light it was emitting was all it’s own.

As he walked by, he noticed the inhabitants of Sheoltra gathering to watch the procession. Like the guards at the gate, these creatures were not the Sheolai- those gods of gods were waiting for them at the palace they were headed to. Most of the creatures in Sheoltra were called the Sanglai, golden-skinned creatures with bird like features. They bowed to the Summer Monarchy as they passed and whispered amongst each other as they caught sight of Audreyllis.

He did not hide his amusement at the reaction his presence provoked. He turned and smiled whenever he caught wind of his name- it seemed that even the blessed Sanglai fell victim to his wretched wicked smile, those who caught sight of it were paralyzed where they stood.

Aurdreyllis continued to parade with his mother and siblings, all the way to the Sheolai’s palace, where the council was to be held. There they passed through a series of other gates and checkpoints before they were admitted into the palace, and once there they were asked to give their weapons to the Sanglai guard for safekeeping.

“So we’re unarmed and defenseless while the guards keep their weapons?” Audreyllis muttered. Tzanusade hit him across the face with the back of her hand.

“Quiet,” she snapped, “this is a peacekeeping council, you fool, and arms of any kind are not permitted in the hall.” She then proceeded to hand over her sword to the Sanglai and stood to wait for the others. Audreyllis rolled his eyes, knowing full well that she was carrying a bosom knife and probably had an assortment of daggers strapped to her legs.

When it was Audreyllis’ turn, he tossed them his scimitar, the knife he had strapped to his arm, took his boots off and shook them so that the small blades no bigger than letter openers fell out, but the guards still insisted on performing a humiliating manual search to make sure he wasn’t concealing anything. Tempted as he was to shoot Tzanusade a withering glance, he focused on a spot on the wall and made it through the whole ordeal in absolute silence.

When the guards confirmed that he was fully unarmed, Audreyllis mustered his dignity and gracefully followed his siblings into the council hall, where the other gods had already assembled.

There were always thirteen gods at the table for the Council of Seasons. Glaerial, Tzanusade, and Aviena, for Summer, Spring, and Autumn, and three of Glaerial’s other children; chosen only from among those who were grown adults, that is to say, were at least five-hundred years old. Kosopie, the Goddess of Wisdom, also attended these councils to ensure the best possible rulings. Duvarl, the God of Time, made sure that the seasons were acting in strict accordance with each other, beginning and ending on precise dates according to the 260 day calendar. Serpina, the Goddess of Death and the matron goddess of Crows was also a member of the Season’s council, there to call attention to any possible battles that may have taken place during the century that passed between councils. Ozmundon, the Emperor of the Gods and the God of Order and Law, oversaw the meetings and ensured peace throughout them. To his right sat his empress, Mahveena, the Goddess of Beauty, and to his left sat his son, Domdel, the God of Judgment.

At the end of the table farthest from Glaerial was seated a man Audreyllis had only heard of in spite-filled rumors and whispers, the God of Winter, Locyrex. True to legend, he was pale as a corpse, with long hair white as snow and narrow eyes that seemed to be without irises. He dressed only in long white robes and always wore a jagged silver crown. It was rumored that he wore the same stone-cold expression for centuries on end without changing it. Watching him, Audreyllis could very well imagine the rumors were true.

“I call the Council of Seasons to order,” Ozmundon declared, “Glaerial, present your guests to the court.”

Tzanusade and Aviena were exempt from this, since they were deities of seasons, but Xochipili, Saelin, and Audreyllis rose from their seats and bowed to Ozmundon and his family.

“The three of you know of your place,” Ozmundon said routinely, “to observe. We do not care for your opinions here- it is only through Glaerial’s…persistence that you be allowed here. Therefore, talk amongst yourselves but hold your tongues for matters that concern only the council members.” They nodded, bowed again, and seated themselves.

Audreyllis sat between Saelin and Kosopie; the latter gave him a warm smile.

“This is your first time in Sheoltra, young prince?”

“It is indeed, your grace. My first and probably last time- mother is only letting me tag along out of tradition.”

“That is a pity,” she said sympathetically, “and hopefully this will not be the last you see of the Celestial City. Tell me, Prince Audreyllis, what do you think of Sheoltra thus far?”

“My lady, have you ever heard anything about the city that wasn’t a praise of its beauty?”

“Only from the Drokkukai.”

Audreyllis’ look darkened and he used all his will to bite back a scathing remark. He looked at Kosopie straight in the eyes, intending to use his powers against her, but stopped as he read her expression. She hadn’t been insulting him, he realized, just stating a fact. She had been around when Drokkukai lived in Sheoltra; she had probably battled against them.

“Well,” he said regaining a polite expression, “it’s only to be expected from Drokkukai, isn’t it? But, if I may my lady, let us not talk of other wars while one is enacted before our eyes.” For now, as with every Council of Seasons, Glaerial was furiously screaming insults at Locyrex from her side of the table, Ozmundon was ordering her to be silent, and Locyrex remained statuesque despite the vicious words hurled in his direction.

“He’s a filthy murderer!” Glaerial raved, “A blight and a plague upon the mortal realm! I say that winter has no place in a world where death is behind every corner and tormenting the brief lives of the mortals!”

Serpina stifled a laugh and whispered into Duvarl’s ear. Both of them were given seething looks from the Summer Queen.

“Life and Death must remain balanced,” Ozmundon droned, exhausted by Glaerial’s never-ending tirade to obliterate the fourth season, “and I have already allotted you and your family exactly one-hundred and ninety-five days to reign over the seasons of Spring, Summer, and Autumn, and I have given only sixty-five days to Locyrex. With these restrictions, it is impossible for him to cause any permanent damage to the mortal realm.”

“But he still does damage,” Glaerial pointed out, “he purposefully tries to kill as much as possible, even with the few days he has! Surely you have seen him; on the winter solstice, the moment my land is closed from the outside world, he sends horrible blizzards that the mortals can’t hope to survive!”

Locyrex placed his hands on the table and stood very slowly. With a voice that chilled the room he said,

“And yet, year after year, time and time again, they live, you fool of a woman. They burrow into their homes and sit by their hearths for all sixty-five days of winter and do not dare to leave for fear of my wrath. You sit here, every council, and try to turn Ozmundon against me with your disgusting fantasy and plans for an ‘ideal world’ as you would have it. The days of the seasons will remain as they are, you vile harlot, and your wheedling will not change that.”

Despite himself, Audreyllis found that he rather respected King Locyrex for having the gall to call his mother a harlot. Not many people did, even immortals.

“How dare you?!” Glaerial shrieked and leapt to her feet, joined by Tzanusade and Xochipili. “You humiliate me in front of the council! In front of my children!”

“Glaerial, you humiliate yourself by speaking. What else are you but a harlot- you have twenty-six children… twenty-six legitimate children, not to mention the hundreds of half-gods you’ve birthed that have been running among the mortals…”

“If the king would hold his tongue,” Tzanusade seethed, “then perhaps we can all get on with the council matters, instead of this pointless bantering?”

“Yes,” Ozmundon droned, “let us continue with the reports. I’m sure that this century has been just as uneventful as the last one, but we can always make sure…”

A discussion started about how the different monarchs have been handling their seasons- Glaerial did not cease to point out that, in her mind, the mortal world would be far better off without Locyrex’s influence altogether. Locyerx continuously ignored her, opting to speak rationally with Ozmundon and Domdel about fixing the barrier that separated Glaerial’s realm from the mortal realm for the sixty-five days between the winter solstice and the spring equinox- there had been reports of Glaerial’s forces being sighted and not a few of his troops were found dead all over the realm.

Audreyllis and Kosopie resumed their conversation amidst the loud voices,

“Grown deities,” Audreyllis chided under his breath, “acting like little children!”

Kosopie laughed, shaking her head, “They do this every meeting,” she said, “Glaerial trying to impose her ideals while Locyrex refutes them and calls her indecent names.”

“They are true,” Audreyllis remarked, “and, in my biased opinion, perfectly called for, but not the best protocol before Ozmundon, is it?”

“Their hatred is so strong they forget themselves,” she noted, “Ozmundon would like to punish them for their insolence, you can see it in his eyes, but he knows that the mortal realm would suffer greatly for it, so he lets them bicker.”

“And mother reprimands me for not acting my age! If the entire point of this council is to watch these two vulgarly point out the other’s shortcomings, I’ll be happy when it’s over…no offense to you of course, my lady.”

“It is a pleasure to talk with you, Audreyllis. Take it as a compliment that I now believe the rumors about you to be false.”

“Rumors often spring from a sliver of truth,” he said quietly, “but, thank you. It is especially kind to hear that coming from a Sheolai. If I may return a compliment- I’m very glad to see you live up to your domain, Goddess of Wisdom.”

They laughed quietly as the council raged on. Ozmundon, with all his power and presence, could only sit tense in his chair, annoyed, as Glaerial hurled insults and Locyrex returned them with stinging remarks and accusations.

The council, Audreyllis decided, was just a way for Ozmundon to make sure Glaerial and Locyrex hadn’t killed each other off. Because Ozmundon had implemented force fields around the Summer and Winter realms on the precise moment when one monarch had to relinquish their rule to the other, neither monarch could send their armies into the mortal realm unless they did so before their realm closed off and kept them there until it opened back up again.

“It seems a little foolish,” Audreyllis remarked as the bantering continued, “that everyone is just letting this carry on instead of trying to resolve whatever matter offends either party.”

“Locyrex’s very existence offends Glaerial,” Kosopie reminded him, “and Locyrex used to be much more patient at these meetings… well, since before he unleashed the year long winter.”

“Why did he do that?” Audreyllis asked, “I had heard that he singlehandedly overpowered my mother’s forces and attempted to end life in the mortal realm.”

“When Ozmundon was finally able to calm Locyrex down,” she said, “he summoned both Locyrex and Glaerial to Sheoltra, where he locked themselves into a council room. Nobody could hear what happened inside. They debated for five days without respite, at the dawn of the sixth day, they left the conference hall and Ozmundon declared the War of the Seasons officially over and sent the King and Queen to their respective islands.

“I looked into the conference room before the Sanglai servants came to clean it. The entire room was in shambles: there were marks from weapons on the walls and tables and icicles everywhere. I can only assume that they were trying to fight each other and Ozmundon overpowered them; that is the most I know about the truce they were forced to agree to.”

Audreyllis closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

“Really,” he said to Kosopie, “I cannot believe how immature this all is. I must be frank, your grace, the War of the Seasons, in its entirety, has got to be the most pointless, idiotic war ever waged.”

So caught up in his own thoughts, Audreyllis did not realize that, at the exact moment he said those words, a lull in speech had spread over the conference. Upon opening his eyes, he was startled to see every member of the council looking at him and everything was deathly silent.

Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome...

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 17:50:58 GMT

Here's the briefest overview of the main characters for the Audreyllis series, all of whom will make an appearance (no matter how brief) in the first book.

Audreyllis:
The title character, Audreyllis is the 15th child of the Summer Goddess Glaerial (by her 11th husband) and the God of Poison. Because of this rather frightening domain (the majority of my characters seem to have a terrible thanatophobia), he has been stigmatized since birth and has often felt isolated from the majority of his family. Because of this, he has grown to embrace the fear that he inspires in others and does his best to maintain that fear. He is condesending and rebellious towards those with authority over him and has an arsenal of bitter, sarcastic comments to unleash upon those around him. He is, however, very kind and protective towards people who gain his trust- his half sister and best friend, Nezzarade, is his closest confidant and the only person he would trust to watch his back.  He maintains a few civil relationships with his siblings- he and Saelin, for example, are on rather good terms with eachother, but outright feuds with others (he had all the lack of sense to make an enemy out of Tzanusade, Glaerial's oldest and the crown princess of Summer). Audreyllis is, in short, a defensive, manipulative, caring, quick-witted individual who has a bark worse than his bite (but the bite's still pretty bad).

Nezzarade:
The 16th child of Glaerial (12th husband) and the Goddess of Tranquility, Nezzarade possesses a compassionate heart and a ready mind- but as a child (460 years old, not yet considered an adult by god standards), she has had her share of trouble-making alongside her beloved brother, Audreyllis. Often the voice of reason that cuts in when Audreyllis is on the verge of something incredibly dumb, Nezzarade is famed for remaining calm in nearly all circumstances. Among the humans, she is a symbol of peace and harmony. Her powers stem from balance and meditation, arts that humans have copied to help them cope with the many stresses of being mortal.  She is represented by butterflies- in many human cultures, good meditation spots are butterfly gardens, because it helps to channel tranquil energy.  To make up for a lack of useful battle powers, Nezzarade is well-versed in hand-to-hand, her weapon is similar to a bo staff, but her strength comes from agility and using her opponents' might against them. She never fights with an aim to kill, only to protect whatever it is that needs protecting (more often than not- Audreyllis). She is very reserved towards people she can't stand but is never outright hostile. Her greatest strength is also her greatest fault- her compassion can drive her to do great things but can render her heartbroken if she feels that she's failed someone or something.

Glaerial:
The Goddess of Summer, one of the original 10 gods who came to be in the Beginning. Glaerial is, in mild terms, batshit insane. She and her 26 (legitimate) children live on an island in the mortal realm, a good distance away from the mainland, and confines most of her children to the island for 257 out of the 260 days of the year.  She blatently chooses favorites among her children, which creates strife and competition among the siblings, her undisputed favorite is her oldest, Tzanusade, who she (literally) lets get away with murder.  Glaerial aims to make the mortal world into a utopia and thinks that this can be accomplished through one thing- the death of her hated rival, Locyrex.

Tzanusade:
The oldest child of Glaerial (created from Glaerial's magic, does not have a father), Tzanusade is the Goddess of Spring and has been around for...quite a while. Sadistic and arrogant, she will stop at nothing to crush her enemies and achieve her goals- usurping her mother's throne, for starters, putting an end to Locyrex, who has been a thorn in her family's side for quite some time, and maybe even conquest of all realms. In fact, while she's at it she might as well get rid of the pesky little drok of a half-brother, Audreyllis, especially since he'll only get more powerful as the books continue.  She's a first-rate manipulator and all-around bitch, ~~not to mention a total babe,~~ half as delusional but twice as hypocritical as her mother. She has an astounding amount of charisma and good organizational and leadership capabilites, but she's jaw-droppingly self-centered and power-hungry to a fault.  There's no question why she's one of my favorite characters.

Locyrex:
Although he doesn't get much of a chance to shine in the first book, the story would not be the same without the mighty God of Winter. He's another of the 10 gods from the great Beginning and lives on an island away from the mortal mainland, directly on the other side of the world from Glaerial. He hates the Summer Monarchy with a passion, having been greatly wronged by Glaerial thousands of years ago.  Although once upon a time his season was merely to maintain the balance of life and death, he now sends fierce blizzards and the cruelest conditions onto the mortal realm in hopes to obliterate all life. Of course, he only gets 65 days out of the 260 calendar days, so he never succeeds in this endeavor, but there were times that he got damn close. Legends still speak of his wrath- he once caused a winter that lasted an entire year, and not even all of Glaerial's forces could stop him from freezing over the mortal realm. It took the most powerful gods from the Celestial Realm to end his ice-age and restore the balance of the seasons.  His most common expressions seem to be rage and utter indifference, the latter he shows about 99% of the time.  He is reclusive but seeks the occassional distraction from his grief. Unfortunately for him, he gets more than he asked for when along comes a certain prince of the Summer Monarchy, who talks to him about peace and a possible position as an ambassador...

Audreyllis: Prince Poison (Chapter I)

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:48:09 GMT

Here is the first chapter of the novel I'm working on. It seriously needs a lot of work. If there's anyone willing to read it and critique, I would be very, very thankful.

In the vast fields of paradise slept the god Audreyllis, laying with his hands tucked behind his head and his vivid red hair fanned around him. His expression was troubled in sleep; he was neither plagued by dreams nor uncomfortable in the tall lush grass, but he appeared tense and guarded, as if he could sense budding discord in the world. As he slept, wheels turned wheels in the monstrous mechanism of fate- edging him closer to certain destiny.

A girl in a yellow dress ran through the fields in search of him. She was graceful in figure with bright blue eyes and a dark complexion. When she found Audreyllis lying in the grass, she kneeled and shook him until he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

“Nezzarade, I was having such a pleasant rest! What could I have possibly done to deserve this disturbance?”

“Brother dear,” she chided him; “you’ve been asleep for half the day. Mother and the others are preparing to leave for Sheoltra, and you’re going to make them late.”

His smile vanished and he bolted upright in a panic.

“The Council! I’d forgotten all about it!” He sped off in the direction of the castle of the Summer Realm, which had been his home for his short five-hundred years of life.

Six chariots and the entire household of the castle, servants and all, waited for the young gods to appear. At the front stood Audreyllis and Nezzarade’s mother, Queen Glaerial, the goddess of Summer, and beside her stood the other four that she had chosen from her twenty-six children to accompany her to the celestial realm of Sheoltra. Farthest from her was Saelin, the god of beasts, followed by Aviena, the goddess of Autumn, Xochipili, the god of flowers, and her first-born, crown princess Tzanusade, who looked disdainfully at Audreyllis as he appeared in the distance, running full speed towards the castle. Tzanusade was heralded as the goddess of Spring, and was always at her mother’s right hand.

“The little drok will make us late,” Tzanusade hissed to Xochipili, “it’s ridiculous that he has to come along anyway.”

“I whole-heartedly agree, but what can we do? He has come of age; it is tradition for him to come to the Season’s Council. At least take comfort that Mother will only let him attend this one meeting.”

“One meeting,” she said testily as Audreyllis finally made it across the field, “is all he needs to wreak havoc on us all. By the highest Order and lowest Chaos, he had better keep himself in line.”

“Keep himself in line?” Xochipili asked incredulously, “This is still Audreyllis we’re talking about, right?”

Audreyllis bowed to his mother and siblings, perfectly aware of the glares they were giving him.

“My humble apologies, dearest mother and beloved siblings, for the delay: Nezzarade found me sleeping, with no track of time, and I ran here as soon as I was awakened.”

“Very well,” Glaerial snapped, “but where is Nezzarade now?”

Audreyllis shrugged, “Perhaps enjoying the perpetually good weather? She was in no hurry to get back. She would be here already if she had any desire to be here.”

“He makes a good point,” Xochipili said, stepping onto his chariot, “after all, if he and Nezzarade raced, she would surely beat him.” The others began to laugh. Audreyllis only smiled, and boarding his own chariot said,

“Too true, dear brother. Then again, she also beat you in a race when she was much younger, not that your speed is a hard one to match, so I can take comfort that I’m not the only one she surpasses.”

With silencing glares from Glaerial and Tzanusade, the other gods stepped onto their chariots and, on Glaerial’s signal, tugged on the reigns so that the massive white birds pulling the chariots began to fly high into the air and carry them to Sheoltra- the Celestial Realm.

With the wind against his face and the ground far below him, Audreyllis never felt so free. He tugged on the reigns to make the giant bird rise at a steeper angle, to the point where he was far too dangerously vertical and could slip out from the open back of the vehicle. Grinning, he pulled on the reigns again and the bird flipped the chariot over and back again in a death-defying loop to experience a moment of true weightlessness and push the limits of his new freedom. Suddenly, his hands slipped off the reigns and he fell back into the empty sky, only to be miraculously caught by the chariot as it looped back around. He laughed in his relief and took a tighter hold of the reigns as he flew closer to his siblings.

Saelin, who had seen his daredevil act, pulled his chariot in closer to Audreyllis and said,

“It would be a shame for your first visit to Sheoltra to end before it even began. You’ve never flown this high before, so you’d do best to leave your antics for solid ground.”

“I shall keep that in mind, believe me. Tell me though, Saelin, how fares the king of beasts so far from his domain? I should think that you are at loathe to find yourself here in the sky.”

Saelin returned Audreyllis’ cheek with a grin of his own and a deadly glint in his golden eyes.

“Watch how a hawk dives from the sky to catch its prey,” he said, “and tell me that there are no beasts in the air.”

“True,” Audreyllis remarked, “but the hawk must be faster than its prey. If some smaller bird were to out-fly the beast of the skies…then what?”

“I have seen no bird that can out-fly a bird of prey.”

“I know of one.” Audreyllis said, pointing to the sky, “What say you?”

Saelin looked up, and then incredulously back to Audreyllis.

“A race to Sheoltra? You’re mad.”

“No, just easily amused. Close enough though. What say you?”

The God of Beasts snapped his reigns and willed the bird to fly faster.

“I say that there is no bird to out-fly a hawk, even such a daring fledgling as you.” With that, Audreyllis gained speed and soon caught up with Saelin. Neck and neck, they rushed past Aviena and Xochipili, who were going about their own paces and were appalled by the younger gods’ behavior.

“Saelin! Audreyllis!” Xochipili called, “Stop this idiocy at once! You’re acting like children!”

“If you want to stop us,” Audreyllis shouted back, “you’ll have to catch up with us. But from the looks of it, Nezzarade isn’t the only one who can surpass you in speed, is she?”

Xochipili’s curses faded into the distance as Audreyllis snapped the reigns and flew higher into the sky, zipping through clouds and gaining on Saelin. Soon they passed the half-way mark of their journey, the sky castle ruled by the God of the Sun, So’Hleis. It was still a ways to Sheoltra, and Saelin was getting ahead of him, so Audreyllis forced himself not to be distracted by the sight of radiant castle and catch up with him.

Within minutes, Audreyllis was tied with Saelin and pushing ahead of him; both their birds were flying as fast as they could and both drivers were intent on victory. They were hurtling closer and closer to the chariots of Tzanusade and Glaerial,

They began to overtake their chariots, Saelin darted out in front of Glaerial, against her loud complaints, and Audreyllis made a sharp turn as to cut Tzanusade off. Just as he was starting to pick up a slight burst of speed, Tzanusade swung her chariot around and bashed it into Audreyllis. He was almost knocked off of the vehicle but was able to hold on long enough to reestablish stability- only to be battered by Tzanusade a second time, and then a third time immediately after. Audreyllis heard the wood splintering with each blow, and after another assault from Tzanusade, the chariot began to break apart.

Thinking fast, he leapt from his chariot onto the back of the bird, unsheathed the scimitar he wore at his side, and cut the harness. As the chariot hurtled to the ground, Tzanusade urged her bird to go faster so to attack Audreyllis a final time. Without the extra weight of the chariot, however, Audreyllis’ bird took off into the sky and left the Goddess of Spring far behind.

Within the hour, Audreyllis glimpsed the radiant world Sheoltra, the realm of the highest gods, the Sheolai. He reached the sky dock, which was placed below Sheoltra so as to let the guards check parties before letting them through the gates, and did not at all mind the strange looks the guards were giving him for apparently riding a bird bareback all the way from Murtra.

He saw that two of his family members had already arrived- Glaerial was reprimanding Saelin for his unseemly behavior, and Saelin was not even attempting to look interested. The God of Beasts glanced over at Audreyllis, a look of triumph on his face, until he noticed that his chariot was missing. He gave his younger sibling a curt nod, which Audreyllis interpreted to mean they would retry the race another time.

At the sound of fiercely beating wings, Audreyllis knew that Tzanusade had arrived. She did not even glance at Audreyllis as she landed and took her place at Glaerial’s side. Audreyllis smiled behind her back.

Soon enough, Xochipili and Aviena rejoined the party, the former brandishing what Audreyllis recognized as the wheel of his demolished chariot.

“Audreyllis, what is the meaning of this?” Xochipili demanded, shaking the wheel at him, “first you and Saelin act like fools, racing to Sheoltra, and then this wheel of yours almost hit me in the face! Explain yourself.”

“I accidentally knocked into Tzanusande”, he lied, knowing that Glaerial would not hear of a foul word against her oldest child, “and my chariot was wrecked. I rode on the bird the rest of the way. Sincerest apologies, brother dear, it was completely unintentional.”

Xochipili turned to Tzanusade, who neither confirmed nor refuted Audreyllis’ story. More likely than not, Xochipili realized what had actually happened, but appeared to believe Audreyllis’ fabrication.

After a few sharp reprimands from Glaerial about Audreyllis’ foolish behavior, they approached the gates of Sheoltra, a massive structure made of stardust changed into workable metal, with guards and watch towers at regular intervals along the surrounding wall. Glaerial approached the gates and the guards bowed to her and her children.

“Your highness,” one said, “it is an honor to welcome you back to Sheoltra. As protocol demands, may we have the names of who you are bringing with you?”

“Tzanusade and Aviena, as always,” she said shortly, “and three of my sons, Xochipili, Saelin, and Audreyllis.”

The look that the guards shared when Audreyllis’ name was mentioned did not escape the young god’s notice. He did not mind- he was rather accustomed to the infamy he received by merely existing, to the point of enjoying it. He grinned at the guards, who noticeably gulped.

“Open the gates!” One of the guards called to the tower. The mighty portcullis was lifted to admit the representatives of the Summer Monarchy into Sheoltra.