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The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

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posted on Dec, 14 2011 @ 10:48 AM
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A JOURNEY BEGINS



The sun was already high in the sky - higher than most folks around Vandalia would allow it to get before arising and setting about their daily labors - before Gert decided to awaken nenothtu. The old woman sighed. She well recalled that it just wasn't safe to approach and shake this one awake. Instead, Gert grabbed a sturdy home-made husk broom from the corner and purposefully approached the split-log bench neno was currently sprawled out on.

"You 'wake?" she called asd she approached.

"MMmnhnhnn" came the muffled reply.

"Elevate and radiate, boy. Daylight's a-burnin' ".

"MMmnhnhnn" again, but no motion towards arising. Gert slipped th broom handle under the bench and levered the bench over, sending neno sprawling out on the ground.

"Ah TOLD ye, daylight's a-burinin'! It's already 9 of the clock! You plannin' on sleepin' all day?"

Nenothtu jumped from the ground spluttering, then realizing his assailant was a little old woman, checked himself. "That was a pretty dirty trick, Gert."

The old witch-woman cackled. "What'd ye 'spect? A lady has a reputation to protect - couldn't leave you snoozin' out in the yard like that. It just wouldn't look fittin'!"

"naw, Gert. I'm talkin' about that blasted popskull you plied me with. THAT was the 'dirty trick', not the bench-dumpin'. I b'leive your reputation is about where it'll stay, anyhow. Who'd bother ye? Who'd accidentally come up in here to see me sleepin' in yer yard anyhow?" Then, a thought struck him in connection with what she'd said - 'a lady has a reputation to protect'. His head wasn't quite clear yet, but clearing up fast. "GERT! You didn't git me drunk an'...?"

The old witch couldn't help herself. She cackled so hard and loud that it bent her old frail-looking form over. She cackled so hard that her laughter echoed throught the hollow. Gert found the very idea hilarious, and neno's alcohol induced confusion even more so. She couldn't resist gouging him. "Wal, now, young feller, a gal has to find her sport somewhere don't she?"

neno blanched. As all the blood drained from his face, his expression sent Gert into further paroxysms of laughter. For all her age, she ended rolling on the ground and gasping for breath between cackling guffaws. This was just too rich!

neno picked the old woman up from the ground. Rolling around like that at her age just wasn't seemly. Besides, as she rolled, her skirt was riding up, and he didn't have the stomach to go there. This amusement was already too much for him. When Gert got herself back under control, she said "What d'ye want fer breakfast, Lover?" which sent her off into paroxysms again.

"I don't think I'm very hungry." neno sullenly replied. His manner renewed her laughter. This boy was just too easy sometimes, she thought. He really ought to have known better, and the fact that he didn't was just hilarious, and to be played upon. As she'd said, a gal has to find her sport wherever she can.

Eventually, Gert regained control of herself, and wiping her eyes said "set yer bony ass down on the bench here, Freddy. we got to talk."

Neno balked. "I don't think I wanna have that conversation, Gert." Which threatened to tip her balance again. It wasn't fair. Her ribs were already hurting from laughing. "I know I ain't touchin' nary another drop of yer homemade popskull, ever agin. I know that much!" that was too much. Gert fell off of the bench laughing again.

Between gasps as she picked herself back up, Gert said "Stop that! Here I am trying to git in shape fer a serious confab, and you keep settin' me off agin!" raising herself back on to the bench Gert reiterated "I said sit yer bony ass DOWN!" Neno sat. At the far end of the bench. His discomfort threatened to send Gert off yet again. She hadn't had this much fun out of anyone in years.

"Relax, boy." Between giggles, she struggled to add "Whut's done is done. Cain't be UNDONE, y'know?" she wasn't about to let him off the hook. this was too much fun. Nenothtu sat there without reply, looking like he was trying to draw up into a knot the size of a hickory nut. Gert reached over and patted his knee. "I said relax. yer virginity's still intact, Freddy." That very notion set her off again, but all she had left was a series of choked snorts.

Gert wiped her eyes and continued. "You got a hangover?" neno shook his head. "Think about that, then - you really OUGHT to have one, oughtn't ye?" He nodded. "Well, that's yer immortality kicking in. ye cain't be kilt, because ye heal too fast. what it is, is..." here she struggled to dumb-down the concept enough that he could grasp it in a basic way. there was time for full realization later. there was going to be a lot of 'later'. "Whut it is, is that you've been given a much higher dose of 'life-force' than the average mortal. that's all that sets you apart from them. You just can't die because you have too much life in ye, and ye heal too fast. - everything else mortals are subject to is still in place in you. You can drown, you can get shot, all of that, but ye heal so fast it can't kill ye, or if it does, you'll heal right back, all the way to livin'." She paused to let that sink in.

"I don't wanna live for ever, Gert." A simple statement.

"Doesn't matter what you WANT, it's what ye've got. You can either make of it a blessing or a curse. that's altogether up to you and how ye handle it, but it is what it is. and it's non-refundable."

Pausing to let that sink in, Gert finally continued. "Now right now, you've got more pressing concerns. You've got ferever to mull over ferever, but right now you've got to go through The Breaks."

"The Breaks? into the Badlands? What the hell for? I ain't lost nothin' over in that godforsaken patch of wasteland!"

"How should I know?" Gert replied. "The Sperits said you gotta go, so you gotta go. They generally know more'n we do, since they're everywhere at will - ain't bound to this reality like we are. They told me yer needed over there, so yer needed. Besides, how 'godforsaken' can it be if a god walks there again?" she said matter of factly.

Exasperated, neno said " well what am I supposed to look for, then? I gotta have SOME reason fer going."

Gert replied "they just said you was to go through The Breaks, then foller yer feelings" the old woman shrugged. She neglected to mention that his 'feelings' has been tweaked a bit, a natural response to the increase of the life force within him. No need to overload him with too much information. some things just had to be learned as you went along. Gert cocked her head to the side as if listening to a distant sound, then added "They say it's time sensitive, and you'd best get movin'."

"The Breaks - that's gotta be a fifty mile trip if it's an inch. Long walk for a 'time sensitive' mission that you don't even know the end point of, nor how far the other side you'll have to go."

Gert responded with "You recall the Goss place down to Juniper Crick?" nenothtu nodded. "Well there's a Lynch family living there now, and they owes me a horse and set of tack fer not 'lowin' his missus to die givin' birth. I never collected on it 'cause I never had a place to keep it here, but you can go down there and tell 'em you've come to collect fer me, Then you just take that horse on. I'll not miss it iffen I never have it here to miss, now will I?"

"Now you git goin'. I'll always be around here somwheres if you've got further questions or just need to yak through the centuries. Always here. The place has grown on me, and forever is a long time. Can't think of any better or more peaceful place to spend it."

Nenothtu stood and started gathering his things as Gert disappeared into the cabin. As he was strapping the Caliburn sword across his back, she re-emerged with a parcel "Hyar's some grub for the trail. Tain't much, but its parched corn an' jerky. It'll last ferever. It ain't like ye can starve to death or anything, but it keeps the belly from growlin' and all manner of discomfort from visitng ye when it does."

Neno thanked her and set off down the trail towards Elder Gap, and the old Goss farm on the other side of it. Gert watched until he was nearly out of sight, then called after him "Daddy says yer a-gonna hafta MARRY me now!" Then fell over on the ground laughing as neno picked up his pace into a jog and disappeared. As he rounded a curve in the trail where it wrapped around a spur of the ridge, a bell tinkled in Gert's cabin.






edit on 2011/12/14 by nenothtu because: (no reason given)




posted on Dec, 14 2011 @ 10:48 AM
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..............~*~Utterly Helpless~*~.....................




Adam felt the spongy ground beneath his boots quiver as Charon led him deeper into the mists. The tall black-clad figure had not turned even once to see if Adam still followed, nor did he slow his pace when they had reached the edge of the bog that encircled the Lake. The air was thick with fragrant apple-blossom at first, but then transformed into that of rotten vegetables and potatoes. Adam curled up his nose but did not want to appear a lily-liver, so he refrained from covering his lower face with his hand.

He began to feel moisture seeping into his boots – they were not water-proof. The mist grew thicker and likewise seeped into his clothing, giving him a chill clear through to the bone. He was thankful there was no wind to slice through them, but his discomfort was substantial nonetheless.

Charon stepped deftly from peat to peat, gaining more ground on Adam until Adam could no longer see him at all. Adam misstepped just as Charon vanished into the ground-cloud, and splash! he was hip deep in the murky waters.

Good thing Silo Thirteen isn't with me on this quest, he thought sourly, remembering that if she were completely submerged in water, she would die.

And that brought back to mind what Charon had said: That Silo Thirteen had been 'right' about his brogue suiting him. When had Charon talked to her? Recently? Where? Adam scowled now, feeling himself sinking slowly deeper, and a notable suction forming around his boots. Suddenly aware that he could be pulled into the bog altogether, he began to look around for a hand-hold, something to pull himself out with. Nothing. Only peat.

Then he felt the sensation of something moving against his pant legs. This brought a lump of fear to his throat, but he calmed himself enough to double-check. Yes, definitely there was something swimming past him. He plunged his hand into the cold water and felt a slick, long thing pass under it.

Eels! His first reflex was to run, which of course only increased the suction tightening on his boots. Another eel swam past…was he in one of their channels? He began to look around himself frantically. The light was fading now, and the air was frigid and damp. I'm going to die here tonight, he thought sadly. I will never find Dag, and this damned bog will swallow me whole. I could lie here for centuries – millennia! – and never be discovered.

Adam thought back to his weakness and near death when Carpet had saved him, and Dag had heroically carried him (her little outburst about the gimpy gurney notwithstanding) to the safety of the recovery bay. He thought of her courage and tenacity, her loyalty and strength, her beauty, her fire. And his eyes filled with tears. He felt bad for having doubted her fidelity, knowing full well that she had only put on the Man/Girl's dress for a practical joke.

Another eel slid past his legs, and he wondered how long it would take for the bog to swallow him. And then something grabbed hold of his ankle, firmly, from behind. He felt a rush of panic, then heard a gurgling sound, and tried to turn round to see what had come upon him. A tube was projecting from the water, and slowly rotating. It began to rise further into the mist, and he saw the peat moving as though being pushed up from below. The grasp on his ankle suddenly released, and with a slow and ominous splash, a dark orb arose.

Adam screamed like a little girl. The orb screamed back. And then a hand came up from below the water and wrenched off the neoprene hood and snorkel mask covering a face. It was a girl! She stood to her full height, and came only to Adam's shoulder.

"You're quite firmly stuck," she said. "I'll need help." There was no mistaking the tone of disdain or the expression of bewildered surprise. What the hell was he doing out here, in the cold, alone, at dusk? Oh well, there would be time to ask later. But she'd have to hurry if she was going to find her way back. She did not wait to hear Adam's response (and there really was none required – he would be saved, or he would be sucked into the bog – there was no middle ground). She smiled to herself at the pun she had made, and said quickly, "I'm Fiona. I'll be your rescue swimmer today." And then she put the tube back into her mouth, lowered herself into the water, and kicked her fins, abruptly moving away.

Adam noticed the light fade one more degree as the tube moved away from him. "Holy Jenovah," he muttered. And out of the mists, seemingly from all directions, he heard a deep, menacing laughter.

edit on 14-12-2011 by wildtimes because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 16 2011 @ 02:00 PM
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A JOURNEY CONTINUES



On his way to pick up the horse at the Lynch farm, nenothtu dropped by Ben's old cabin. It was there tha he reunited with Ben, and Sslar who had inexplicably been "transported", or whatever the mechanism was called, in the company of Old Ben rather than neno. Bleached human bones still littered the camp from Ben's stand there in the days of old. Nenothtu dug a skull out from under the leaf litter with the toe of his boot, then punted it into the woods like a football, muttering "Scroggin' Taggarts!"

Ben raised an eyebrow at that, making his crazy eyes look even that much crazier, if that were at all possible. "You don't turn loose of a grude easy, do you?" he queried.

"Grudge don't even begin to cover it. " neno replied "It pisses me off to no end that there ain't none of 'em left to kill."

"That'd be yer own fault, wouldn't it? Shoulda saved some fer a snack." As Ben was saying that, Sslar bounded off into the woods after the skull, thinking neno wanted to play fetch.

Nenothtu changed the direction of the conversation. "I'm headed over to the old Goss place. There's Lynches own it now, and I'm to pick up a horse there. Gotta head throught the Breaks."

"You goin' inter the BADLANDS? I reckon you might want a bit of comp'ny on a trip like that! Whacha atter over there?"

Neno looked chagrined. "I dunno. All I know is Gert said her 'sperits' mean fer me to head thataway. Yeah, some comp'ny would be good. If I run inter trouble, well, they say many hands make light the work, and I'd ruther we don't git any more scattered out than we already are. What are you gonna do for a horse, though?"

Ben grinned and replied cryptically "I've found over time that it pays to keep stashes here and there. Gert d'ye say? That old hussy still kickin'? She gotta be near a hundred."

Neno eyed Ben, and said "She's held up well fer her age, Ben. Sorta like you have."

It was Ben's turn to change the subject. Dropping his eyes and looking around at various spots on the ground, he said "Gimme a minute to git my bearings. I know about whar it's buried." He wandered off into the woods, grabbing what was left of an old shovel from an out building on the way. Sslar, for her part, decided that neno hadn't intended to play fetch after all, and just dropped the skull on the ground, rubbing against neno's leg in a plea to have her ears scratched, which neno absentmindedly obliged.

Minutes later, Ben returned with a length of plastic pipe, knocking the dirt off as he walked. "Wal we got funds now. I bury 'em here and there, now and then just in case. Let's go after some hosses."

With that, the trio set off for Elder Gap, and the farmstead beyond.




edit on 2011/12/16 by nenothtu because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 17 2011 @ 01:54 AM
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~*~ De-feet ~*~


‘Chumley!’ Squibbs hollered, grumbled something profane and hollered again. The rain wasn’t letting up but all the wet and wild wind didn’t seem to be bothering Chumley who refused to share the meager rock shelter with the Robots. Instead the Regalian sat there on the lip of the stony outcrop waiting for the weather to clear while twiddling his thumbs.. He wasn’t good with the fingers of the U-Man suit, but he’d gotten a real hang of the thumbs.

‘He’s not comin’ in.’ Skinny’s tinny voice grated as Squibbs rounded on him his broken head-light flashing shards of splintered light. ‘Told you so.‘ Squibbs nearly squealed. Skinny mumbled and turned back to the wall. They’d been bickering for hours now. Not only was their rescue mission a failure but the forced inactivity had them at each others throats. They hadn’t been designed with ‘down time’ in mind. Squibbs returned to sulking while Skinny continued scratching away at the rock wall of the cave a smaller red stone for a tool. A crude drawing of Neno-Chumley in his cowboy hat, Squibbs and Skinny marred the wall of the rocky shelter.

In the distance Chumley caught a shimmer of yellow that coagulated and took form. The Tumbler materializing from cloaking mode had made it as close as a stones throw away to where they‘d been waiting. ‘We go now.’ Chumley called flatly to the droids.

One droid under each arm Chumley ran for the Tumbler slipping and sliding precariously as he went. He'd get his friends out of the rain then go looking for Silo and the Green Man himself. Chumley refused to believe she was dead and wouldn't leave the miserable planet without her. Dead or or alive.


edit on 17-12-2011 by silo13 because: pic fix



posted on Dec, 17 2011 @ 03:29 AM
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~*~ Pleasure and Pain ~*~


The ‘aliens’ screaming started at the first onslaught of tubes, needles and invasive instruments to collect, sample and swab. Watching on the surveillance camera Macalister’s eyes gleamed with pleasure and anticipation. Margo’s stomach rolled with nausea. The whole thing made her sick.

‘Why do you continue this Mac? Are you never going to tire of torturing the poor things?’ One long red nail traced the line muscle up his forearm. The hair there rose, his skin broke out in small bumps of pleasure, pleasure from her touch and gratification watching the girl on the screen suffer.

‘It’s no different than what her kind did to me as a boy!’ He snarled and would have flung off her hand if she’d been any other woman.

The nail on his arm increased it’s pressure leaving a white line behind on his deeply tanned skin. Flinching Mac acquiesced giving the command, ‘Put her under!’ his voice boomed through the speakers. A pair of lifeless eyes turned to face the camera in confusion, the Boss never called for pain relief so soon. ’Do it!’ Mac bellowed. The attendant moved quickly to comply, the ‘alien’ girl slumped back onto the table the drug taking effect. Disgusted Mac cursed and flipped off the screen. No fun watching now the screaming had stopped.

‘Thank you Darling.’ Margo purred near his ear. ‘I was getting jealous. All your attention on that girl and little ol’ me right here in the same room as you.’ The long red nail jumped to trace the square line of his jaw and something other than the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. Mac knew she was jealous of nothing but it was so seldom she allowed him pleasure he’d do anything to gain rights to her.

Taking his hand Margo led into the next room. A four poster bed heavy with velvet draping and glowing gilt beckoned invitingly. A crackling fire, food, whiskey and wine, they’d have all they needed for a long night of passion. Mac whet his lips as she neared the bed pieces of her gown floating to the floor behind her. He picked them up and held them to his face, to his nose as he watched her, transfixed. Pulling back the sheets Margo climbed lithely onto the snow white silk becoming him to join her. Mac’s breathing increased his pulse pounding in his ears. Lurching to the side of the bed like a green and greedy boy he grabbed for her. Darting just out of reach her eyes filled with something dark and smoky. Fully atop the mattress on all fours Mac inched forward like a predator, his prey retreated. Impatience boiled his blood. If she played games with him this time he’d kill her.

Reading his eyes and having created a lust she had no plans on sharing Margo moved an inch closer as if giving in. The glory of her capitulation bolted through him like lightening. Just before his lips touched hers his eyes exploded in shock his pupils dilating into two black orbs. He fell flat faced atop the sheets a syringe stuck in his shoulder the needle buried bone deep.

Pulling the syringe free, recapping the lethal tip Margo replaced the hypodermic back between her garter and inner thigh. Ignoring Macalister’s moaning she stripped him bare and with a grimace of disgust raked her fingers sharply across his back drawing blood. Mussing the sheets, a half empty whiskey bottle on the bedside table Margo hesitated. One more thing. Slipping out of her stockings Margo tied one wispy leg around his hand the second of the pair to the bed. He wouldn’t remember anything thanks to the drug but if he doubted they’d been together the marks on his back and her stockings should be enough to convince him. Leaving Margo shut the door quietly behind her.

‘Going so soon?‘ A tall man stepped from the shadows blocking her way.

‘Taggart! What are you hell are you doing here!‘ Margo moved to cover bare skin with her cast off clothes sickened by the roving eyes of Macalister’s right hand man. Delighted with her reaction he took a step closer.

‘You touch me and he’ll kill you.‘ Margo hissed refusing to show fear to this mad dog of a man.

‘If I tell Mac how soon you left his room he’ll kill you.‘ Taggart’s drawl made her skin shiver in disgust.

‘Who do you think he’ll believe? Me? Or You?‘ That very question called the stalemate. Fact was neither of them knew who Mac would believe or who he’d shoot on the spot.

His features hidden by the shadows Margo didn’t see the snarl lift the corner of his lip. She’d won, at least for the moment. Taggart stepped aside but only just so, Margo still had to brush past him to get to her room. Once inside the door firmly locked Margo stepped into a shower. She despised them both Macalister and Taggart. It would take a river of hot water and a full hour of scrubbing to get the feel and stink of them off her skin but remembering the hell she’d saved the alien girl? It was worth it.


edit on 17-12-2011 by silo13 because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 17 2011 @ 09:29 AM
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.......................................~Witch-Men And Which-Way!?~....................................

Camelot waited against the backdrop of slowly-rotating galaxies and blazing bonfires
as Boy In A Dress dismounted from Reaper and reached for Merlyn's ride. The old
wizard rivaled his mount with his heavy breathing as BIAD waited for the final part
of the request.

The night-kissed meadow enjoyed a spectacular view of King Arthur's home and the
thought of Boy In A Dress being looked upon as Queen Guinevere, brought troubling
variables to the eyeless-creature's musings.

"You must forgive an old man..." Merlyn sighed as a naked stick-thin leg swung over
the pommel and prepared to climb down "...the years that your friend flees from have
found a home on these tired shoulders"
The Man/Girl smiled and helped the sorcerer from the nostril-blowing horse, his own
towering-beast watched from beneath it's midnight-stained fringe.

When Merlyn had first approached BIAD, the ancient eyes had told the hermaphrodite
that he saw him as a bare-shouldered, high-hemmed monster. The Knights saw a Queen
-but the Warlock saw more.

"My spells still have juice -I see" he had chuckled and as Arthur's trusty Soldiers of Virtue
had waited near their mounts, Merlyn had continued.

"I called out across the mysterious void for you to help us and the Fates have seen fit to
send me the Horned One of Olde to assist... I judge not" he had said softly and glanced
back at the shining men at the end of the stone avenue. BIAD had remained silent and
leaning slightly forward, the flickering braziers had shown only some of the old wizard's
features. Then bone-brittle hands had pulled the hood back and BIAD could see Merlyn's
snow-white beard and centuries-wise eyes, he looks like Tibbs -the wig-wearing freak
thought.

Reaper had snickered as Merlyn had gathered his thoughts and Boy In A Dress wondered
what favour would be asked, it seemed that at every turn, folk required some form of help
from the Brother-Of-The-Terrible.

"For the children of Avalon, they look on the delicate hallmarks of Queen Guinevere and
know that their King sits at the throne with pleasing looks, but you and I know the truth
of this Summer night and so I turn to you -Dweller of the Underworld... I seek a boon" Merlyn
had announced and stared with a noble gaze at the shiny-thighed Man/Girl.

"I am not the one you're thinking about, Sir... I've come here searching for a girl called
Dag" BIAD had said kindly and gently rubbed Reaper's oily-skinned shoulder, the horse
adjusted it's standing and showed iron on it's left-rear hoof.
Merlyn had showed a toothless smile and whispered "we are all used as chess-pieces
by the Gods, no?" and whirled dramatically towards the waiting Knights.

"I will escort my Queen back to Camelot, no ill can befall her in my presence" he snapped
to the serious-looking Men-At Arms and without any response -except for one nod of the
head from all, they climbed into their saddles and took off into the darkness.

BIAD noticed that one of the men seemed to show a small amount of hesitance as he slowly
mounted his charge and struggling to pull the memories of Professor Shaw relating some of
Earth's histories, the hermaphrodite gambled that the good-looking kid with the fair-hair was
Lancelot.
'Watch yourself' -Boy In A Dress warned himself and subconciously pulled the back of
his dress-hem down.

Merlyn's body had trembled as he attempted to clamber onto his blue-roan, the patient
animal had watched with a wide-eye as the Conjurer of eons-old curses showed dirt-stained
underwear in his antics and it wasn't until BIAD had lifted the old man onto the saddle and
turned Merlyn in the correct position, that Arthur's confidant had explained more.

"I thank you Demon and I will tell more of the troubled time -here in Camelot, Mordred has
spat his venom across this land again" Merlyn had hinted.
They had rode at speed through the night and for the first time -in a long time, BIAD had felt
his heart race in a true-happiness, hair-flying behind him and a strong sinew between his
legs, the Man/Girl had grinned and grinned.

The calf-high grass of the meadow now waited with the smiling Boy In A Dress for Merlyn
to reveal more of the stranger called Mordred and his deeds.




posted on Dec, 17 2011 @ 10:57 AM
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..................~A Damsel In Distress and The Damned In This Dress~...................

The comment regarding Boy In A Dress' friend being a time-traveller had bothered the
shadow coloured-haired Man/Girl and as Merlyn adjusted his rope-sash and dark robes.
he asked "the one you say that 'flees time'... who are you talking about?

The lines around the cunningman's eyes deepened in a smile and Merlyn responded with
"I think we both know who I mean... the thigh-high being from beyond the curtain of
the heavens" the mesmerist searched the black-fringe for a reaction.

BIAD looked back at the wonderous sight of Camelot in the dark and thought of what
to say next and a few moments brought the hermaphrodite nothing constructive.
"Okay... what is it you wish of me?" BIAD sighed and leaving his red-nailed hands on
his hips, his posture indicated resignation.
That stars looked down and waited.

"Morded, that serpent-nephew of my good-King took Guinevere for his own and only after
Arthur threatened to crush the grave-worm under his heel and raise his home to the ground,
did Morded release the fair-Queen from his evil clutches" Merlyn stroked his long pointed-
beard in a 'Tibbs-like' fashion as he related the tale.

"Arthur believes that you are his consort and are on your way to his side, yet, Morded has had
second-thoughts and now -keeps the heart-melting Guinevere in the bowels of his abode"

The small shadow far-off across the meadow dropped to the ground and then after the faint
sound of pain and indignation, the black shape appeared again and shambled closer.
Merlyn looked out in the same direction of BIAD's gaze and recalling the terrified Elf that
waited in the shadows of the Henge's sarcen WatchMen, "Your servant is loyal" he muttered
and drew in a deep breath.

"The time is a short friend ... not unlike our mutual Friend-from-Time and so I will give my
plea and prepare myself for your payment" Merlyn said from the side of his mouth. BIAD
screwed his lips at the Witch's dubious humour and watched Gerald's oncoming journey.

"Will you rescue my Queen from this scoundrel?" Merlyn asked and turned his face to look
on the one he believed to be The Horned God of the Wiccan-ways, the necromancer's voice
warbled with uncertainty.
Boy In A Dress let stale-air escape his lungs and felt his shoulder straps ease on his skin as
he reluctantly accepted the quest.

"I will, just keep Arthur and his men off my back... and when it comes to Lancelot, I mean that
literally!" BIAD said and seeing Gerald appear from the gloom, he finished with "we'll talk
later about your debt"

The young wide-eyed Elf panted and rubbed his bony-knee as he looked from the smiling
androgenous-being to the serious-faced, wispy-haired sorcerer. "I made it" Gerald said and
offered a grin back to the one he now saw has his Master.
Boy In A Dress walked to the small youngster and patted him amiably on the touseled-head.

"Yes, you did and we've a task to accomplish" BIAD said and nodding once at King Arthur's
advisor, he slipped a high-heeled shoe into a stirrup and climbed onto Reaper.
Ignoring the shocked looks from Merlyn and the newcomer -due to the sight from his short-
dress mounting, BIAD reached towards Gerald and hissed "to the Batmobile, Robin"

The Elf with the mud-stained trousers and a sweat-sheened eager face, now offered a
puzzled brow -along side an accepting hand and said "er... Sire?"
The Man/Girl pulled Gerald onto the horse and as he settled himself behind the red-dressed
rider, BIAD looked down on the ancient Merlyn. "Give me a day-or-two's grace and I'll do
what you ask... I only hope that your Fates have my friend in a safe place" he said and dug his
heels into Reaper's ribs.

"Fear not, Dark One..." Merlyn called after the galloping horse "... I have faith that the Sages
from beyond will favour you" and watched the odd-pair on the huge black beast slip away
into the late-summer's night.



posted on Dec, 18 2011 @ 04:38 AM
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~*~ Girl Friends ~*~


‘How’re you feeling?” Margo asked softly, wrung a cloth in cool water and replaced it over the ‘aliens’ eyes. She knew the ‘girl’ was conscious though her eyes remained firmly shut. Surprisingly though, she did answer.

‘It’s you.’ Slowly Maggie’s eyes opened, the lavender orbs clear and alert. She’s obviously been awake much longer than Margo had guessed.

‘Yes, it’s me.’ Margo chuckled her dark red lips smiling wide, thick blue-black fringe bangs hiding her eyes. ‘You’ll be fine now. Best thing you can do is get up and get dressed. That boy of yours is about ready to chew through the wall with worry.’

‘Pip? He isn’t mine.’ Maggie felt no need to hide her relationship with the boy from the stunningly beautiful woman.

‘Oh no? I don’t think he knows that.’ ‘And if he wasn’t before, he is now’ Margo through to herself extending her hand, her long red nails shining and bright. Maggie took the offered hand in her own but instead of shaking Margo pulled the girl into a sitting position.

‘I’m Margo. Your boy told me your name’s Maggie.’ She used ‘your’ intentionally. She wanted the spitfire kid, his father and Maggie together. It would give her something to think about, to smile about, have hope about on long lonely nights.

‘He’s ok?’ Maggie asked fear shining in her eyes. Margo smiled wryly, she was right, the girl’s question came straight from a mother’s heart.

‘Oh, he’ll sport a black eye for a while’ she waved her hand like shooing a fly, ’and he probably wont try to jump anyone a hundred pounds heavier and two feet taller than him in the next day or two but yes, he’ll be just fine.’ ’In fact, he’s already eating and trying to find a way to get to you and his father.’ Margo waited knowing what she would hear next.

‘How’s his...father?’ Maggie’s voice caught in her throat.

Margo’s heart beat painfully, queerly. She was right again, there was something between the two. ‘Gep?‘ She said his name sans the emotion knifing through her breast, ‘He’s no more worse for wear than his boy. He was beat pretty bad,’ her voice dropped, ‘I wasn’t sure if Mac and his men hadn’t killed him there for a while, but he’ll heal.’

Needing to distance herself Margo rose, the shifting of the bed making Maggie’s stomach roll, an aftereffect of the drugs. Margo’s dress red and long but her feet bare floated across the room to a decanter of wine, poured Maggie a full cup and returned holding it out to the girl.

‘Gep and the boy will be released to go back to their farm. Mac has no interest in them other than He feels Gep cheated him out of another woman. Mac was quite looking forward to having her here.’ Once more her voice gave no indication what she was feeling.

Maggie took the offered cup and drank. The liquid settled her stomach and warming her while tasting sweet on her lips. ‘You knew her? Mercy I mean?’ Maggie drained the cup and swung her legs out over the side of the bed.

‘I knew of her.’ Margo shrugged but Maggie had the feeling there was a lot more she wasn’t telling. Regardless she let the subject drop.

‘Do I get to go home with Gep and Pip?’ Maggie’s open innocent face made Margo want to slap her. How long since she’d looked the same? Felt any innocence or hope at all? Called anyplace ‘home‘? Margo chased away her own shadows clapping her hands like a school teacher for attention.

‘Now you’re thinking! In this world you have to think of yourself first.’ Her censure was mild her words like steel. ‘Mac plans to keep you here in payment for Mercy and I don‘t need to tell you that doesn’t mean good for you.‘

Margo searched through a tall mahogany wardrobe returning with a plain calico dress that matched the girls eyes. ‘Mac’s angry and don’t thing he’ll not try and take out that anger on you.’ Margo slipped the dress over the girls naked form doing up the small buttons then tying it in back with a small bow. Seeing the girls reflection in the mirror another unexpected surge of hate exploded in her breast. She smothered the emotion and in doing so her voice lost it’s kind camaraderie.

Pushing the girl to sit on the stool before the mirror Margo bent to whisper in her ear. ‘Mac hates aliens but even Mac can‘t out and out kill you, you’re a woman. Even so, never forget what I’ve told you.’ Her voice sang light and airy as she began brushing Maggie’s hair. ’As for me?’ Her hand paused mid-stroke her tinkling laugh reminding Maggie of the wind chimes at the farm, ‘Whether you’re an alien or not makes no difference to me in the least. What matters dear is what Mac thinks.’

‘What does make a difference to you?’ Maggie asked watching the woman in the mirror.

‘Nothing darling, nothing at all.’ Margo answered bluntly staring straight at Maggie before going back to stroking her hair. Even so Maggie had yet to see the woman’s eyes.

edit on 18-12-2011 by silo13 because: wording fix



posted on Dec, 18 2011 @ 08:21 AM
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.........................................~Hamlets and Heartaches~...........................................

They rode into the wood smoke-shrouded hamlet as the last of the night sky fled
west and Gerald's snoring told Boy In A Dress that his new-found 'serf' was exhausted.

The young Elf's head bumped and bounced against BIAD's shoulderblades in his slumber
and even though Reaper's gait was fairly steady, sleeping on a horse told the Man/Girl that
he should stop and give the lad some time to rest.

A cockerel announced dawn and then set off on it's strutting duties, BIAD's steed didn't
even notice the gawdy-bird slip through his huge legs and disappear into the long weeds
under the make-shift fencing.

"We'll rest up awhile and get our bearings" BIAD said softly over his shoulder and heard
the hitch in Gerald's snoring, the Elf sat upright, worked his stale-saliva mouth and responded
with "huh... er, yes Sir, yessir"

The long drab-coloured dress swished across the threshold of the stone and straw-thatched
cottage, and the fair-haired lassie with fire-ash smudges on her hands -carried the wooden
pail towards the cow byre without looking at the two strangers arriving in Barrow-In-The
-Beans.

"Excuse me... Miss?" Boy In A Dress called to the straw-coloured haired young woman with
the milk maid's bonnet bouncing on her shoulders, he helped Gerald climb from the tall
stallion -but kept his eyes on the struggling villager.

The smooth-skinned girl turned her head as she continued her journey and though her
chores were time-sensitive, the sight of the bare-legged black haired-being on the back
of a demon-horse, caused her to stop on the dried-mud track and drop the empty bucket.

"Oh... my... fiddlesticks!" Ellyn whispered and glanced at the small Elf rubbing his behind,
she crossed herself twice and wished that Reverend Pallow was here.
"I'm sorry to startle you Miss, but we seek a place to rest... can you help?" the Man/Girl
said kindly and carefully dismounted from the huge black charge, he knew that his odd
appearance could be a concern.

Ellyn curtsied and looked for an escape route, the Devil had arrived in Barrow-In-The-Beans
and now, though -she had shown respect in her actions, her heels wanted to be away and
hide where the cockerel scratched and clawed.

"Please Mrs. Devil, spare my soul and take a beast from the barn" the eldest-daughter of
Walter Nash wailed and felt a hot bladder of fear, the long-fringed harridon in the blood-red
cloth stood beside the pawing-horse and held a scarlet-taloned hand up to silence the
quivering wench.

"Be still child... I am not who you think" said BIAD and hoped the easy-tone would allay her
feelings, a robin landed onto a gnarled fence-post and watched the supposed supernatural
being.
"I am Boy In A Dress and this is my friend Gerald, we merely seek a place to feed our horse
and the young Elf" he continued and offered his best kind-smile. Ellyn Nash fell to her knees
and mumbled a prayer through pressed palms, a faint wasn't too-far away BIAD thought.

It was Gerald who saved the day by walking over the eye-closed female and crouching down
to be lower than Ellyn, he whispered through her communion.

"We are on a mission to save Queen Guinevere from the evil Mordred's clutcheds... we need
your help, Miss...?" Gerald left the statement hang in the air as he looked on the girl's young
features.

Ellyn was pretty and even though that the revelation that milk maid's skin was blemish-free
due to the interaction with bovine and thus -being partially immune from smallpox had not been
discovered yet, the Elf marvelled at the freckles that sprinkled across her pert nose.
The low-cut bodice revealed an ample decoutage and Ellyn's sun-weathered hair curled and
ran across the milkmaid's slender shoulders.

The clear-blue eyes snapped open and stared back with a 'O'-shaped mouth at the Elf before
her, Ellyn swallowed hard and mumbled "Ellyn... my name is Ellyn" and lowered her praying
hands.

Gerald put on his best smile and let it dally around his eyes "that's a nice name, Ellyn... will
you help us?"

The cows would have to wait for another hour as the girl who had never left Barrow-In-The
-Beans showed the strange pair where the horse could be watered and fed, she had even
sneaked out bowls of steaming porridge for the Elf and his Devil, both had accepted the
breakfast with relish.

Now pulling on the lowing beast's teats and ignoring the dull ache at the base of her spine,
Ellyn pondered about the fairly good-looking 'Jack O' the Forest and the Beelzebub in the red
dress.


edit on 18-12-2011 by A boy in a dress because: Pic Added



posted on Dec, 18 2011 @ 11:12 AM
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............~~Strange Revelations~~............



Adam waited for what seemed like weeks, and noticed his feet go entirely numb, followed by his calves, and his knees, and then the lower portion of his thighs. He was exhausted, and even considered resting his head on the peat heap next to him, but it was too dangerous. And what if the rescuers needed him to hail them? He wished he had a flare. And a gun. And his friends.

He sighed. "What a doofus I am," he thought. "An utter loon."

He could not imagine any of the others finding themselves alone, in a bog, at night, hip-deep in stinking water and about to be sucked into oblivion by milennia-old muck. Not even Chumley would have been so careless.

"Who am I kidding?" he thought out loud. "I'm no doctor. I'm a tech, at best. My first mission? To seek and destroy the thirteenth Self Integrated Life Organism, a renegade. Fail. Second mission? Escape the LAB. Would have failed if not for Dag. Save Silo. Would have failed, again. And again, and again. And will fail now. And no one will know where to come to visit my watery grave."

"Feeling sorry for yourself, son?" asked a female voice. "Adam then heard the whisper of an oar dipped into the water ahead of him, and from out of the mist came a flat-bottomed boat. In it were Fiona and an old lady. "You were right, Fiona, he doesn't look too bright. But we can't all be geniuses, now, can we?"

Adam, taken aback by this audaciously rude observation, could think of nothing to say. Fiona appeared to ignore the remark and extended her hand for Adam to grasp, so he could pull the small vessel closer to himself. He did so, and then Fiona tied a line round his waist and attached it firmly to the cleat on the boat's bow. She then rummaged in a pouch and withdrew her hand, producing a small rod of plasticene that glowed with a key-lime color. This she worked onto a fish-hook. She extended the bamboo pole to which the hook was tethered out over the water, and then struck a match on the seat of the boat and seemed to light the base of the pole.

Adam watched as the flame was sucked into the pole, and then emerged at the top end, and realized the fuse was wrapped round the trout line holding the hook. The sparks were moving fast, and just as the fuse reached the glowing green stuff, Fiona let go her end of the line and the entire hook assembly, sparks, green rod, troutline and all, dropped below the surface of the water.

Adam watched as the submerged thing continued to burn, sinking finally into the murky water too far to see it. Then he felt a rumble in the water around him, and suddenly a burst of explosion erupted not two feet away from him.

"Got it," said Fiona. She reached for Adam and pulled him as the old lady paddled quickly to get the boat out of there. Adam gasped as he watched where he had been standing go up in flames.

"Methane," said Fiona then, to his silent question. "Regular mine-field of it, this bog. But you should have known that, eh? Signs all over. Signs saying "keep out" and "danger" and "methane fields ahead" and so forth and so on. Ye failed to note 'em, then, eh?"

"I failed, yes," said Adam morosely. "But that doesn't surprise me."

"What be your destination?"

"I was taken there to await some friends."

"In that bog? Only an idjit would go there! Who you choose for friends is your business, but if I were you, I'd reconsider!"

Adam looked at the young woman, who had know removed her skinsuit hood. She could not have been more than fourteen years old, and was slender, with wide, pale eyes and pale skin. Her hair reflected less of the ambient light of the stars, but he could not tell the color of it. She was shapely, from what he could see, and he allowed his eyes to roam slowly over her from top to toe. When he came to her feet he felt his jaw drop open.

She had not been wearing rubber flippers, the type used by divers that strap round the heel. Her feet WERE flippers. The toes were webbed, and black as a goose's, and every bit as long as the artificial divers' prop. And at the ends of the toes were claws, and these shone like diamonds. Noticing his gawking, she drew her toes together and tucked her feet below the bench.

"Then again," she added, "pairing your brains with your manners, you've probably not got many options for companionship, have ye, then?"

"Forgive me," said Adam sheepishly. "And thank you for coming back to rescue me. I hope I can make a satisfactory explanation, but you are right. I by all appearances, and objective measures, am a rude idjit, as well as a failure."

The old lady cackled in the boat as she rowed.

"Now, dearie," she said. "We don't often get visitors who can speak. Give the lad a break."

"Yes, nana," said Fiona, but she turned away and Adam had only a view of the side of her lovely face until they reached the tiny island where they docked the boat and clambered ashore.

In front of them was a one-room house. "Well, come on, then," said Fiona. "We're home."
edit on 18-12-2011 by wildtimes because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 18 2011 @ 12:06 PM
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........................................~Here There Be Heartaches~...........................................

The morning yearned for noon as BIAD and Gerald slipped out of the dilapidated barn
-scanning the quaint scenery before them. Reaper grazed in the small paddock along
side a bedraggled donkey, the equine pair seemed at peace with each other.

Huge oaks and thick elms grew all around the clearing and the sight of the occasional
trail of smoke told the two interlopers that Barrow-In-The-The-Beans lay just beyond the
foliage.

"You know, maybe it's a good idea if I go on alone" Boy In A Dress suggested to the Elf at
his elbow, the thought of Gerald being torn apart by a swinging battleaxe would certainly
put a cloud on Merlyn's horizon. The Man/Girl also believed his brother -Death would use
the situation to his own ends.

Gerald sighed and murmered "I knew this would happen, just as I get an opportunity to
prove myself as all grown up... it's snatched from me and I end up with..." he looked towards
the large black Reaper rubbing it's neck on a dried-out railing "... tending someone's horse"

Boy In A Dress smiled out across the pasture and laid a hand on the lad's shoulder, he half-
expected for Gerald to shrug it off, but he didn't.
"Very well my friend, we enter Mordred's domain together... just don't leave my side" the
hermaphrodite said and kept his tone a little stern.

Ellyn arrived about ten minutes later and by that time, Reaper was saddled and now blowing
air into the face of the small donkey through the fence. BIAD felt a pang of sorrow for the
big stallion saying goodbye to his new-found friend.

"I brought you some food for your journey" the young woman said and blushed as she
handed a deer-skin package to the grinning Gerald, BIAD turned to pat Reaper and flashed
a smile to himself, he had wondered if love would have enough to make the Elf stay.

"My Father told me when I was small that Mordred owned land on the riverbend, you may
find our Queen being held there" Ellyn said and focused on showing the back of her slender
neck to Gerald, the action wasn't lost on the young man.

"West of the crossroads will bring you to the monastery ruins, follow the track through the
avenue of hanging willows and you will find Morded's fortress lying besides the Brue"

The milkmaid wiped her hands on the white apron on her slim waist and waited to see if
she was needed for anything else and Gerald mumbled a thank you as he placed the supplies
into the saddlebags of Reaper.

"It is customary in my region for a damsel to offer a kiss of good luck to one who rides into
danger..." Boy In A Dress said as -using the body of Reaper to hide his mounting, he swung a
bare leg over the saddle, his hem stayed low enough not to shock the village-girl.
"... however, being of a different class than the country-girl I see before me, I will allow
you to wish good-tidings to my servant" he finished and busied himself straightening the
reins.

Hell, she was quick. Gerald had no time from looking puzzled towards the Man/Girl -before
Ellyn was on him and crushing his lips with hers. The Elf stared wide-eyed into the cool-blue
orbs of the milkmaid as they kissed for an eternity, BIAD looked to the sky and enjoyed being
alive.

When Ellyn finally released the smaller being from her arms, Gerald's body had become as
flexible as sago, his half-closed eyes told of rapture and heart-aching love.

"Will you be coming back this way, Sire?" the panting Ellyn asked and double-checked the
sappy-smiling Gerald. BIAD drew in a breath and replied an affirmative "Yes my girl, if all goes
well and we succeed in our enterprise, we will visit you again" the androgenous-being hoped
the recent onslaught of the rural lass would persuade Gerald to stay.

The sight of the bewildered Elf grabbing the bedroll and half-empty canteen told BIAD
otherwise.

The big horse pawed at the lush grass and wished to be away, the smaller beast-of-burden
offered a bray of farewell and sauntered off towards the weather-won water trough.
"Say nothing of what we have told you -Ellyn, for the lad's life is at stake... remember,
loose-lips-sink-ships" Boy In A Dress said and hauled Gerald up onto the saddle.

The maid from the tiny hamlet of Barrow-In-The-Beans stood in her ankle-length milking
dress and her mother's apron and wondered what on earth the Daemon was talking about.

The eyeless Devil in the Hellfire attire and the bonny-faced Elf with the love-struck smile
rode towards Mordred's dark abode and out of Ellyn's life... for now.



posted on Dec, 20 2011 @ 11:01 AM
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......~*~*~Into the Wellies and Through the Walls~*~*~.......



Gert rushed into her hut and over to the shelves that held her many pairs of Wellingtons. She didn't bother to find an actual pair, just grabbed the nearest right foot from the top row, and left foot from the bottom row. (From time to time she enjoyed rearranging the colorful rubber boots into fresh artistry..by moving the colors nearer together or further apart, she was able to make an infinitely interesting visual display.)


The result was one of navy blue, and one in chocolate brown with pink dots. She didn't notice; while she stepped into them she was looking at the wall o' beanies, and grabbed one to jam onto her head.
Then she stepped over to the fire-grate and grabbed her shotgun and the leather pouch that hung on the hook below it before pushing the button that pulled the bookcase panel open.

Spry as a cheerleader, she was; an ancient cheerleader in a Nepalese beanie, a cotton gown, toting a shotgun and pouch in mismatched Wellies, the old witch's eyes twinkled with excitement as she leapt through the arched doorway.. It had been, oh, 250?....300? years since that old iron bell had rung.

She of course had oiled the bell daily, just in case, and it was one of her delights in living….knowing that one day it would ring again. With each dawn, as she awoke from her dream-dimension, she thought to herself, "Perhaps today…" There were few things left that gave her such a piqued state of excited anticipation.

Behind her, the bookcase closed and she tugged on the string above her to activate the lighting system. It was a web of old decorative Solstice lights, in multiple colors, dozens of them, in all shapes and configurations. Ahead, down the passageway, she looked.

"Blast," she muttered. "Now why is that one string blinking?!!" She would have to check the bulbs one at a time when she got back, but right now she had bidness to attend to. She squeaked down the passage without looking back, the shotgun poised at her right shoulder as she continued into the depths. She let out a small, girlish cackle of delight and said to herself, "Excitinggg!"

For while Gert truly and sincerely cherished the seasons' changes, and the weather extremes, the coming and going of flora and fauna, and the occasional wanderer-through, being called to the hidden faerycombs below the mountains was her absolute favorite waking experience. It was as near as her daily life got to the fantastical things she experienced in her dreamworld, and the unspoken law that the faerycombs should never, ever be entered unless summoned (except for minor maintenance like correcting the occasional stupid strand of lights that started blinking) made it all the more enticing.

*************************

Back at the Gypsy shop, in Home-Town, Dag and Brittle had been fitted with hats of their own and Wellingtons. None of the boots were large enough for Brittle's feet, so the faeries had cut the toe end off of an older pair, and in these he was walking. Reluctantly he followed the gals, embarrassed in his hat that was fashioned like a Mohawk and his toes poking out of pink-striped boots, but since they had offered him a cigarette (a rare and cherished delicacy) as well as the chance to get to the portal of Avalon, he obliged them. If this getup was required, well, he would just have to wear it.


As they moved along the passage, their shadows flickered against the arched ceiling in wraithlike dances, and as they got deeper, Brittle began to hear the slow beat of drums. Unconsciously the group all fell into step with them, a phenomenon that heightened the sensation of ritual ceremony. Dag smiled to herself; she was having a marvelous time, and she thought Brittle looked adorable in his boots and Mohat. The faeries, upon hearing the drums, had turned to see the reactions of their unexpected guests, and then shared a private grin and little shrug and twittery giggle. They were certainly enjoying themselves. It had been long, indeed, since the faerycombs were opened.

After some time, the troupe turned into a side passage and then climbed a series of staircases. Dag wondered if at its top they would find a starship waiting after all, but it was not so. After 1,298 steps they came to a door.

Fiona withdrew a huge crystal key from the folds of her gown and slipped it into the lock, and the door silently swung open. They had reached the cave of enchantments.

"Now what?" asked Dag.

Brittle said, "Yes, now what?"

Fiona smiled proudly at them. "Now we wait for your mother," she answered. "I assure you, she's on her way."

edit on 20-12-2011 by wildtimes because: Antonio..ahem...BRITTLE has arrived!!! In full costume!!

edit on 20-12-2011 by wildtimes because: spelling and puncuation



posted on Dec, 21 2011 @ 02:59 AM
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~*~ Patricide ~*~


‘What did you tell her?’ Mac asked before Margo made it through the door to his study. Margo flinched but continued into the room. She hadn’t thought Mac was in his office, she hadn’t wanted him to be.

‘Just what you told me to last night Darling,’ she sighed as if bored, ‘you’re going to let the boy and his Father go home and keep Maggie here to square up the deal.’ She placed a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before moving to sit by the fire.

Mac’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t remember telling Margo his plans, if they were his plans, in fact he didn‘t remember much of last night at all. He’d lay off the whiskey next time he thought angrily calling for the bottle. Margo rose, filled his tumbler then one for herself clinking her glass to his.

‘I also told her you don’t like aliens.’ Margo made sure to add just the right touch of hesitation, like maybe she‘d said too much. She knew Mac had been watching her and the girl but Mac didn’t need to know that.

‘She afraid’a me?’ Mac drew on his cigar letting his head fallback to watch the smoke swirl to the ceiling.

‘I don’t think she knows enough about the way you operate to be afraid.’ Margo said wryly her eyes focused on the fire.

‘Yes, well, we’ll cure her of that soon enough now wont we?’ Mac chuckled with anticipation. Watching him over the rim of her glass Margo downed half her drink. When he got ‘that look’ on his face she knew it meant someone was gonna get hurt.

‘So Margo, did you enjoy last night? Mac asked lightly, anything but concerned.

‘Immensely Darling,’ Margo purred remembering another night, another man. ‘An passionate interlude to remember. We’ll have to do it again sometime.‘ She still didn’t turn to look at him lest the loathing in her eyes give her away.

Margo didn’t see him rise his hand going to his gun.

An empty whiskey glass exploded above her head raining thick shards of glass on the hearth. Without a word Mac turned and left the room.

Eye in the Sky


Margo, her ribs barely able to contain her thundering heart fumbled at the controls in the arm of Mac’s chair until Gep came into view above the mantle. He lay shivering on a small cot, his knees tucked up to his chest, no blanket, no fire, his color death like, his lips blue. Drinking in the sight of him Margo didn’t turn away even knowing Mac would kill her if he caught her watching Gep. Heart pounding harder still Margo wavered one second more. I light fell over Gep, someone had entered the little cabin.

Gep’s swollen eyes opened in thin slits, then grew wider. A smile tugged painfully at the corner of his cracked and swollen lips. ‘Pip’ Gep rasped lifting a finger to his boy. Pip came into view throwing himself on his father unaware of the pain he was causing. Gep tried to raise his hands to stroke the boys hair, his hands fell back to the cot.

Margo’s stomach knotted in fear. A shadow fell over the pair. Mac advanced on the boy pulling him away from Gep his hand crushingly on Pip’s shoulder. The boy’s right side, paralyzed against Mac’s strength crumpled. ‘I told you not to touch him!‘ Mac snarled giving the boy a rough shake rattling his teeth.

Moaning a profanity Gep lurching from the cot fell to the floor. Both ankles having been broken days before Margo watched horrified as the man she loved - who’s hands were also broken - used his elbows to pull himself across the small space between him and the man who’d just hurt his son. Margo openly sobbed when reaching Mac’s boots and unable to fight Gep brought his bloodied hands together like a supplicant begging Mac to leave his boy alone.

Mac, more dreadful than could be imagined leaned down and lay his palm over Gep’s blood crusted hair. Margo could hear Mac speaking but couldn’t make out the words. When Gep’s head fell to the dirt floor in utter defeat Margo was glad she hadn’t.

Turning Mac motioned Pip back to his side. The boy, crying silently, his black eye the only color in his face complied.

‘I'm a merciful man Pip. I’ve decided to give you a choice.’ Mac’s voice rose, Margo flinched and ducked behind his chair forgetting Mac couldn‘t see her. Unable to take her eyes off the screen Margo watched on.

‘Your choice Pip is your father,’ Mac used the tip of his boot to roll Gep‘s face towards them, ‘Or, Maggie.’ Pip started to shake, his teeth chattering and cutting into his lips drawing blood. “Now, your father here is almost dead.’ Mac nudged him again with his boot. ‘It would be a mercy to put him down.’ Mac chuckled and drew his revolver. Cocking it he forced it into the boys hands pointing the barrel at the man on the floor.

‘One little tug on that trigger and you and Maggie will live. You don’t shoot? I’ll kill all three of you.’ Mac stepped back the bulge in the front of his pants showing just how much he was enjoying himself. Margo retched into her handkerchief around her own chattering teeth.

‘I can’t. I can’t do it...’ Pip sobbed but didn’t lower his hand, or the gun. ‘I can’t!’ Pip sobbed harder blood running down his chin, he must have bitten his tongue in fear, Maggie realized retching again.

‘You can, and you will or I’ll bring Maggie here and shoot her first.’ Mac cowed the boy mockingly laying a hand on his shoulder almost gently this time. ‘Now, buck up and be a man son.’

Gep’s eyes opened wide, his voice almost clear. ‘Don’t... call...my...boy...son!’ Looking straight at Pip Gep nodded once slowly and closed his eyes.

Turning to the camera Mac’s eyes bored directly into Margo's

Pip pulled the trigger.

Margo turned from the screen and ran.

edit on 21-12-2011 by silo13 because: counter



posted on Dec, 23 2011 @ 09:22 AM
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................................~Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas~................................

The small conifer struggled with the weight of the homemade Christmas baubles and
small red-ribbons, the candle in the window made the rudimentary star on top -glint into
Mucklebones' eyes.

"And all this is to celebrate a God being born?" the Witch asked dreamily as she enjoyed
the scarlet bows against the dark green of the fir needles. Tibbs finished reading
the recently-found letters and taking his spectacles from his nose, he squinted over
at his alien-lover.

"It was an idea..." he said quietly "... it began in a part of the Earth that was enduring the
boot-heel of an invading force and as time went on, scriptures that promised a Messiah
seemed to be more-and-more doubtful"

The Vithian's handset sang out 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' and Muckles looked
surprised at the sudden sound.
Tibbs smiled and laid the device on the scratched, worn table, the song made the room
feel warm and comfortable and the flickering flames of the fire in the hearth seemed to
hark of a more peaceful time.

"Then a human-child was born that grew to stand for that idea... a way that would show being
humble as a strength and being free -a right of every sentient being" Tibbs searched Muckles'
features as she listened to his words and found that even she, the being that had been
shunned by others for most of her life, offered eyes of hope.

A lined-hand reached for the Crone's bag of bones and tapped it lightly "You see, ever since
the U-man could stand upright, he dreamt of a world that would know peace and within that
idea, lay the seeds of that dream. But there were others..." Tibbs looked away into the
flames with a sad expression "... others who would see that dream dashed"

Far off, some animal called out a lonely wail and the two off-worlders waited for an answer,
but the night remained silent.

The force that Tibbs had sought to manipulate for what seemed an eternity, sat with the
two lovers in the little cabin and the descending-candle paced it's path.
"I am happy here, my love... but I know that somewhere out there, our destiny taps it's foot"
Mucklebones whispered to the sad-small Vithian in the heavy robes, Tibbs listened to the
crooning from the handset and nodded without enthusiasm.

"I miss his cigar-smoke..." came a wee voice from the hunched-being at the table and tears
formed under the big alien-eyes of the Witch "... and the other's smile" Tibbs finished.
The fire crackled and as Muckles stood up, she brushed the Christmas tree with her elbow
and caused a tiny bell to peal it's song, the sound told that time was moving again.

"They say everytime a bell rings, an Angel gets it's wings" Tibbs muttered and felt the cool
caress of the Gray's fingers on his neck, it was getting late.
Mucklebones breathed in deeply and turned to look out of the dirty-window of the cabin.

"Then we'll be needing those wings to find your friends" she proclaimed and wiped the
eye-water from her face, her voice was strong and determined.
Tibbs swung his head and followed his darling's gaze into the night "May we find them
before danger does" he added.

The candle-flame was snuffed and the warm little cabin on the mountainside fell into
darkness, and somewhere among the trees and undergrowth, that lonely call of the
forest animal was answered with a hopeful response.

Nothing and nobody walks alone.


edit on 23-12-2011 by A boy in a dress because: Left Santa Hat in Edit Room.



posted on Dec, 24 2011 @ 02:27 AM
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~*~ Back on the Yydryl ~*~


‘Why don’t you just go Carpet?’ You could if you wanted to were the words she left unsaid. If Carpet were any other crewmember Ship would have ordered him onto the Tumbler II but it had to be a decision the Milli-Being made on his own.

‘I thought you needed me here?’ He answered.

‘That was days ago and you know it. The only problem I’m having at the moment is Ship to ground readings.’

‘Yes, the atmosphere.’ He repeated warily. ‘And the Tumbler II? What’s her opinion.’

‘She’s been ready to go since day one. She says the Tumbler wasn’t fully prepared. I thought it was in-fighting, but with the way things are shaping up down there now,‘ she said referring to the planet below, ‘now I’m not so sure.’

‘Where’s the Tumbler I?’

Ship sighed. ‘Skinny and Squibbs are in the T1, they couldn’t take surface weather conditions. The Tumbler’s cloaked outside some type of compound waiting for Chumley who’s gone off on his own. Chumley thinks Silo’s in the compound, but, like I said the communications are sketchy.’ Ship began to loose her tempter. She told him nothing he already didn’t know.

‘Carpet, I don’t know what happened to you when you were in Adam but whatever happened could it have been so bad you can’t go back?’ She sighed again, ‘Carpet, please. What changed in you? Was it so bad?’ She wondered aloud.

‘No Ship, it wasn’t that bad. The problem is? It was that good.’ Carpet whispered. He remembered how glad he’d been to get back ‘home‘, relieved to ‘get out’ of the dead U-Man, relieved to be back on Ship the only home he ever knew. But he’d not been Ship bound longer than it took for the rest of them to leave before he was aching to go. The problem wasn’t that he’d been almost U-man, the problem was he’d had to share being U-Man with another. If he’d been in his own body he doubted even now if he’d of ever returned to Ship. Now? Hearing there were more problems with Silo and the others? The need to go had become something he fought himself over every second of every minute of every day.

‘So what’s the problem?’ Ship asked. When he didn’t answer right away was the moment she knew. The room cooled something that didn‘t go unnoticed my Carpet.

‘Ship...’ he started.

‘You don’t have to say it Carpet. I see clearly now.‘ The Yydryl steeled herself for what came next. ‘What you’re telling me is if you do go, if you do use one of the new U-Skin suits you might not ever...come back.’ It wasn’t a question. The room grew colder still. ‘You’re also telling me it’s finally come down to a choice.’

‘Yes.’ Carpet answered wondering why he felt ashamed.

‘So it’s me. Or it’s Silo.’ Ship laughed sardonically.

‘No Ship. That’s where you’re wrong.‘ Carpet answered after another hesitation. ‘It’s not about Silo. It’s a choice between you, and me.’ Carpet said quietly before turning to leave.

Wracked with emotion the Milli-being shed colors from every spectrum of the rainbow racing away from the bridge. Passing by the Swamp, then CindyMar's room Carpet stopped, stilled, then returned. Waiting on the outside Carpet yelled until the door opened. He couldn’t enter, her quarters were private, her floors bare, but it didn’t stop him from calling inside.

‘You in there Milli? Squatch?’ Carpet wanted to scream for the cat to hurry but knew it would have the opposite effect. Squatch, CindyMars cat had been holed up in her quarters since his return to Ship, waiting day after day in vain for his masters return. Still the host to the female Milli-Being to Carpet’s male Squatch walked lazily to the door, sat, and waited.

‘Listen Milli. This is a one time offer. You want the corridors? You want Ship? She’s yours.‘ Without waiting for an answer Carpet was gone.

‘I wondered how long it would take him. Foolish male.’ Milli laughed watching Carpet disappear around the bend.

If there was one color for hope, and change, fear - and love - that would be the color of the corridors between where Squatch sat licking his paws and the docking bay holding the Tumbler II and a U-Man Suit with Carpet’s name on it.

Ship watched Carpet go. And smiled.
edit on 24-12-2011 by silo13 because: counter



posted on Dec, 26 2011 @ 12:59 PM
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From The Chronicles of Avalon Decoded

(as cited in The Fae Files*, the companion volume to the Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl, 15th ed. pp. 5,182-5,183)

"A reader of the chronicles may have, at some point, noticed that the Fae, the Little People, and the Fendwellers, seem to come and go interchangeably. Or, perhaps the reader may not have noticed. If one is to study the Scriptures, however, one will occasionally find replacements where a faerie in one site of the underworld might shape-shift into some other being entirely.

For example, in the Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl (VOTPATY), a record taken by many as the utmost truth, in the study of Darling, the Lady of the Lake, and her half-brother Lancelot (Brittle) meeting up with their mother, they are first escorted by Bridget and Bella into the mountain, but it was the Fenguardian Fiona who unlocked the door for them.

One must read carefully, indeed, for the authors of the journals often slip these clues into the texts with cunning and sleight of hand.

The serious scholar will need to pay very close attention to these tricks of the authors, for they are meant to confuse, confound, and cloud the credibility of the journals. In Chapter 62, verse 10 of the VOTPATY, we see that the supernatural being "Fiona" was the name of the Fenguardian who was – it would seem -- rescuing Adam from an untimely, putrid and exotic death, a continent away from where Darling (Dag, aka Gia) and Lancelot (Brittle) (see Chapter 62, verse 12) at the exact same moment, were being escorted to the portal, that is, the cavern of enchantment, the heart of Avalon.

These verses, interspersed among other story lines, are spaced ingeniously, in fact in such an extraordinary and fantastical manner, that the common lay reader will need to be of exceptionally excessive acuity to catch the switcheroo. The serious scholar must ask: What had become of Bridget and Bella? And what was the source of the crystal key? (for more information, see Vol 1, Chapter 56** )

Researchers and historians have discovered from recently discovered personal journals of the original authors of the history, and an accompanying codex that was located in a tube unearthed by a peat farmer which appears to have predated the 2nd edition of the VOTPATY, that the two faeries Bridge and Bella, in fact, were with Adam, in the Fen.

This is a marvelous and enigmatic effort on the part of the chroniclers to disclose the truth of the Fae: they are quite capable of shifting into forms other than their essential auras. For centuries, it was thought that a mistake had been made. In fact, the recently decoded diaries of the original chroniclers reveal that those "switcheroos" were intentional, and a deliberate effort to confuse the readers. In this manner, the lay reader is confused and confounded, and the truth clouded. But why would the authors go to such lengths to obscure factual history?

It is hoped that in future, the missing diaries of Tibbs the Vithian will be discovered, and it is widely held that therein lies the key to the unraveling of the mysteries of parallel worlds, dimenions, and the so-called magickal beings of old."


--Gertrude Louise Sommers (dob ? -- dod ?),
Editor in Chief of The Fae Files ca. 2782.
*Copyright released to public domain Boxing Day 6782.


**"The one you call Nenothtu needs to place the Glass Flute into the small rip that this 'Dark
Lord'..." The Splitter pulled one side of his mouth to show a sardonic smile "... has dabbled
with. The Flute will do the rest" he said and sighed.


edit on 26-12-2011 by wildtimes because: how come size=1 works in preview, but not in the thread? Boooo!



posted on Dec, 27 2011 @ 10:38 AM
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............~*~Fenfire and Gemstone~*~...........


Adam had no more than stepped into the hut behind Fiona when he heard a mighty splash and roaring sound. He whirled round to see the source, and his jaw dropped open. The entire Fen was aflame. The tiny island on which Nan's hut stood proudly was completely surrounded with searing licks of yellow, orange, blue, red, white.

Well, no wonder the oarsmen won't come! he thought, and Charon was in such a rush to beat it out of here! (Which was true...Charon was a blur at the moment, the fire some distance away as he chortled with glee.)


Over his shoulder, too mesmerized by the sight outside to turn away and address his saviors eye to eye, Adam asked, "How often does this happen?"

There was no response.

The hut was perhaps three meters square, so there was really nowhere anyone could hide. He looked about and wondered if he was hallucinating, or still under some sort of enchantment. He reached one hand across to pinch the soft skin inside his elbow. "Ow!" he said softly. Nope, not dreaming. He was alone. "Terrific," he said. He would not be sucked into the bog tonight, but left instead to die a slow death on an isolated mound of high ground while the bog burned its putrid gases.

He sighed with frustration. I really am such a loser, he thought. And he sank onto the spongy floor of the little shelter. He would not fight Death off this time. He would wait, patiently, and take a good look inside himself. This, he knew, would depress him, and offer no solace. But apparently it was required if he was to escape a perpetual state of purgatorial discomfort.

He lapsed into a sort of trance as he gazed out at the bog fire. Flames have a way of doing that, of soothing one, and facilitating the sort of hypnotized state necessary for introspection. Never quite the same, their licking. Like snow...never two flakes precisely identical. This drifting thought led to memory of the Tower, the Splitter, and the Glass Flute.

What is it about crystal that is so mystical? Adam wondered. He had often heard humanoids speak of it as a thing of power, both an evil-absorbent and a repellent. With these thoughts flowing freely, Adam drifted further into a methane-fueled altered state of awareness.



**********************

In the cave of enchantment, Fiona closed the door behind Dag and Brittle and herself.
"Who are you?" asked Dag, her eyebrows drawn together in irritation. Brittle was standing with his mouth open, eyes wide as he took in the irridescent colors of the cavern.


"And what happened to Bridget and Bella?" Dag added, looking disapprovingly at Brittle's childish gawking. Why can't men just focus?, she wondered. The attention spans of babies!

Fiona smiled sweetly. "I am Fiona. Bridget and Bella summoned me and my Nana. They will meet us in the Naica cave."

A low rumbling noise reached Dag's and Brittle's ears then, and Fiona smiled. "Yes, they've arrived there safely. Now we just wait for Gert."

"You already said we were waiting. What happens when she arrives, this person you refer to as 'Your Mother.' Whose mother is she? Mine? Brittle's?"

Again Fiona smiled her enigmatic grin. "Both. She is everyone's mother, Gia. Everyone has a mother, eh?"

"I was created in a LAB," said Dag. "I was not born of a woman."

Fiona raised her eyebrows, but did not reply except with the same grin. Brittle seemed oblivious to their interaction, still gazing at the rocks that glowed from within somehow. One corner of Dag's pretty lavendar mouth curled sideways, and a dimple of sardonic disapproval appeared. She was tempted to roll her eyes, but did not do so outwardly.

"Look," said Dag, "I came her voluntarily, to help him." She thrust her thumb toward Brittle in front of herself. I am free to go if I want to. And I don't like this place. I have friends who are looking for me."

"Are you so sure?" asked Fiona.

"YES I AM SO SURE!!" Dag announced, and the echoes bounced for an unseemly long time around the cavern first more softly, then resonating again into a volume as though first shouted out. SURE!! SURE! SURE, SURe,SUre Sure, sure, Sure, SUre, SURe, SURE, SURE!, SURE!! and then fading once more. One would have expected the sound to eventually dissipated, but in the Cave of Enchantments, this did not happen.

Dag looked around her as the sound waves bounced away and returned like a boomerang. After several minutes and perhaps fifty cycles of the sound she looked at Fiona with an expression of indignant embarrassment. "When will it stop?"

Fiona only shrugged. "I guess we'll find out," she said. "I don't know that anyone has ever been that loud in here before, but I can tell you that nothing escapes without authorization."

Brittle, finally distracted, looked at Dag with a creased brow. "What did you do?" he asked.

"Oh, be quiet," said Dag, and crossed her arms in front of herself. "Just...be quiet."

edit on 27-12-2011 by wildtimes because: pics or it didn't happen!



posted on Dec, 27 2011 @ 11:38 AM
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.................................................~He Ain't Heavy~.................................................



"Some would think it silly..." Death said and pushed his frameless spectacles up his nose
"... but in Amity, one man can make a difference" The young Elf known as Gerald slept on
even though Chief Martin Brody had raised his voice and Boy In A Dress wondered about
the impersonation -as he turned from the lad's curled-form under the creased-blanket to
look on his 'altered' brother.

Death sat near the small campfire and after adjusting the stained and crumpled life-jacket
strapped on his shoulders, he leaned towards the flames and warmed his hands.
Mordred's fortress lay just over the hill and after watching for any patrols, BIAD and Gerald
had agreed to enter the building after midnight, the Man/Girl thought it prudent that the
dirt-smudged Elf with the dark circles under his eyes should get some rest.

"You're deviating from your path -my dear brother... it's been said 'What thanks sufficient,
or what recompence
' and I have to ask myself that same question... what are you doing
this for?" Brody growled and watched the fiery tongues.

BIAD remained silent as he brooded on his brother's words. For some time now, he had felt
the tug of his apparant future-role and the idea of being the Devil held no enthusiasm, he
guessed that these 'quests' were somehow connected to what lay ahead.

"I seek a friend and sometimes, the path meanders a little..." BIAD answered after a whole
minute had passed and peered out into the darkness, his head ran with the rescue-plan.
Reaper snorted to no one and moved his weight onto the other hind-leg, the sheen of his
coat fought the surrounding night to display the magnificent beast.

The Police Chief of the famous island followed his brother's gaze and said "your fate... as you
believe it to be, is to rule as the Darkest-of-Dark... you cannot avoid it " Death's words were
strong, but tipped with only a smidgen of pity for his kin.

"I know that due to your interaction with these humans, you've acquired the foolish emotion
of guilt and I know that you feel that if you do works of good, then you may be granted a
pardon... may I ask, who would grant this?" Death's tone had changed and BIAD heard a slight
mocking fluttering around his words.

"I know-I know... a Devil needs no pardon" the Man/girl hissed and thought he felt a drop
of rain on his face, he eyed the starry sky above for any passing cloud.
Brody chuckled and checked the chunky watch on his wrist, time was a-flying "You are a God,
you belong to a higher state than these..." Death waved half-heartedly towards the
slumbering Gerald "... carbon-heads and yet, you shrug from your throne"
The stars looked down like a frowning jury.

BIAD smiled-the-smile of a clown and sighed to himself, no bonds would hold him from his
future, no far-flung planet would hide him from the duty and no castle would keep his fate
outside.
"Yer' gonna need a bigger moat?" Death quipped and saw that the joke was lost on the sad
eyeless-being with the black permo-wig, Brody's hand patted the bare shoulder for comfort.

The night creatures chirped and scuttled in the undergrowth and went about their business,
Death prepared to go about his.

"I will need that sword -brother, it is important to my plans" he said as the character he was
playing sloughed away into the familair tall robed-figure, Death scanned the back of the
raven-coloured wig "... let's say it could delay your inevitability" he finished and bled away.

BIAD tapped a red fingernail on his front teeth as he contemplated his existence in this
reality, he wished Tibbs was here.


Gerald woke a few minutes later and gathering his bedroll together, his mind was on the
danger that lay over the hill, the rain (and it didn't taste of wine)... came not long after.
The hermaphrodite in the short red-dress blew a warm breath into the chilly night-air and
watched the boy-Elf's task of getting the horse ready for the rescue.

"Sir...?" Gerald asked as he wrapped the strapped the canteen firmly to Reaper's saddle
and checked for no shiny surfaces to give them away "... will I ever see my world again?"
The androgynous silhouette dowsed the fire and brought the night into their campsite,
the cool air slipped in like a loyal brother.

"You will see your own again, I swear it" BIAD said and thought he heard laughter from far off.
The unlikely pair walked the big stallion towards Morded's home.


edit on 27-12-2011 by A boy in a dress because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 28 2011 @ 08:18 AM
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~*~ Free ~*~

*For your listening pleasure ‘click’ PLAY - and proceed with the Saga*




The huge yellow and black retrieval vehicle trembled at the edge of the docking bay where inanimate tarmac married with the animate corridors of the Yydryl.

‘Come on Man! We gotta get down there! We gotta gooooo!’ The Tumbler chanted with impatience. ‘The Surface! Rain storms! Sand storms! A Compound! Our Dude Chumley’s on the run! Where’s the Green Man?’ She sang, ‘Where’s Silooooo!‘ The Tumbler sidled closer to the corridor and continuing her litany.

‘Steady on or you’re gonna slip a cog there Mut.’ Carpet hushed her from just inside the hall but she didn’t listen. Nearly prancing on her landing gear like some green filly at the starting gate the Tumbler shivered again and shook her great yellow metal body until it rang like muted chimes. Carpet, the Milli-Being chose to ignore her. He had to, he must focus on the transfer ahead. He was about to make the jump from the only home he’d ever know, the halls of the Yydryl leaving them forever behind to take up a U-Man Suit waiting for him inside the Tumbler II.

‘Calm yourself Mut, this isn’t the time.‘ Carpet shushed her again under his breath and bunched his nap into a huge tight knit ball as close to the tarmac as he dared. ‘Come on now, show me what you can do with those appendages of yours. Get me into the hull.‘ Carpet waited, shimmering in pale colors of apprehension. ’Come on, come on comeoncomeoncomeon...’ He chanted under his breath.

Two long strong bio-mechanical arms stretched from the main frame of the vehicle sprung outwards. Rotating pincers flexing on the ends of extendable arms nipped the air in anticipation like great yellow crabs. Mut seized Carpet up in one ‘claw‘, the other cupping horizontally under his bulk ‘against droppage’ she said. With a rip Carpet tore free from the Yydryl, the bare patch of her underpinning showing bleakly in the corridor began oozing green viscous fluid - a gruesome sight for the Milli-Being.

Without hesitation the Tumbler's inner appendages, smaller versions of the first, shot out to claim Carpet from her larger and longer ‘stretchers’. From there the near translucent bio-material containing the Milli-Being Carpet was directed towards a mouth like opening and sucked through a specimen hatch into the hull of the Tumbler and bowled across the floor into a U-Man sized bio-locker, the momentum slamming the door shut behind him.

‘Mut’ growled revving her engines, the quiet in the locker was too much for her. ‘Come ON!’ She hovered over the tarmac shivering in midair. When Carpet didn‘t answer her patience's snapped.

’Forget it! NO MORE WAITING!’ the Tumbler howled over the whine of her engines. She wasn’t stopping for the Milli-Being to ‘change’ before heading off for Earth. Mut signed off from the Yydryl, her back speed slowing her smoothly into the corridor exiting the docking bays where she went through her last pre-flight instructions and readied her engines for the ‘Go’ signal from Ship.

Ensconced in the womb like cabinet Carpet caught up the U-Man suit in his fibers and willed himself inside. Filling the suit, growing, moooving Carpet bust free from his confines falling to the floor. Righting himself onto all fours he caught a glimpse of his ‘new self’ for the first time in the shine of the Tumblers glowing walls. ‘Jenovah!‘ He cried, ‘Why The Neno!‘ Carpet laughed manically at his reflection.

Pushing up onto unsteady legs his cries of pain and exhilaration melded with the screaming of the Tumbler’s engines until the two beings, one for the first time standing on his own two feet - the other ready to break free from her cocoon, the Yydryl, sped through the Yydryl's internal flight shaft heading for freedom.

And like giving birth the Yydryl opened her outer doors and expelled ‘Mut’ and the new ‘U-Man’ into open space.

‘Yeahhhhhhhhhh-Whoooooooooooooooo! The Tumbler and Carpet screamed together the force of speed pushing their cries back at them.

Carpet, now an upright biped made his way on shaky legs to the front of the craft, strapped himself in and saluted the Yydryl falling away behind them in the viewer.

The Tumbler - spinning in pure joy settled back into her flight plan, turned her nose towards the big blue planet and FLEW!
edit on 28-12-2011 by silo13 because: woo eee baby woo eee



posted on Dec, 28 2011 @ 01:10 PM
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...............................................~Like Thieves In The Night~.........................................

Boy In A Dress dug in his nails and felt a better purchase on the wall, the dark stone
told of age and dark deeds inside. "Nearly there son" he growled and pulled himself
and the dangling Gerald further towards the rooftop, another gargoyle watched the
two invaders pass.

The night-rain had chilled their skins well-before BIAD had set out to scale Mordred's
home, the tall dark church-like building sat at the bend of a river -just has Ellyn had
described.

Reaper waited in a small copse of alders just south of the fortress and Gerald had made
sure he was out of most of the rain. BIAD asked once more if the Elf wanted to continue.
"I am here with you and I believe the Fays wanted me to be..." Gerald had whispered
and stroked the big horse's nose "... I will serve until I fall"

The Man/Girl smiled and adjusted a shoulder-strap "Then we'll go all the way, and we'll
rescue the girl and save the day" he said huskily and turned to look at the brooding structure.
Walls of stone and steep rooftops warned strangers to stay away, but a faint-yellow light
at a window also warned that not all were sleeping.

"Let's do it" BIAD hissed and moved off towards a clump of wild gorse, his thoughts on what
Nenothtu would do in his situation, shadows-melted-with-shadows as the being in the dress
and the smaller Elf made their way to Guinevere's prison.

BIAD's shoulders clicked as he hauled Gerald onto the thin coving at the base of the roof,
water splashed down the grey slates and emptied down pitch-sealed holes, the Man/Girl
guessed the rainwater would cough out of the mouth-gaping gargoyles below.

"There's a hatchway just further up the roof... be careful" BIAD whispered into the
panting Elf's ear and helped Gerald to his feet. The ground seemed a long way down and
the pair were just-alittle glad that the night hid the wooded surroundings, they both felt
vunerable at this point.



With careful movements, the pair climbed the near-smooth surface of slates towards the
small doorway, BIAD's hair reached around Gerald's waist and this gesture made the Elf feel
a little safer.

Moments later, the hermaphrodite peeled the poorly-fitted hatch door away and climbed
quietly in out of the rain. The attic smelled of mouse-droppings and forgotten clothes, Gerald
licked his lips and twisted his face at the aroma.

"We'll walk indian-file...okay?" BIAD mouthed and saw the Elf's shadowed-features alter
to show confusion and the grinning bare-thighed suddenly remembered where-and-when he
was. "I mean walk behind me" he corrected and turned away.

The attic door wanted to creak as BIAD placed a long-red nail through the narrow space where
the latch waited, shafts of light slipped into the gloomy loft during the Man/Girl's unlocking.

"Before we go on, I need to know you will do as I say" the crouching red-lipped Devil said in
hushed-tones "... you may have to kill"
Gerald gulped and showed child-eyes towards BIAD and a comforting hand tapped his cheek,
"Dont let it concern you... I'll keep an eye out" the Man/Girl whispered and pointed at his
black fringe in jest.

Without a sound, BIAD's tresses lowered the Elf onto a stair landing and the hermaphrodite
followed, stunted torches flickered along the walls.

The two would-be rescuers and their two shadows ghosted towards who-knows-what.



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