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The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

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posted on Apr, 6 2013 @ 06:58 AM

............................................Sheer Madness...........................................

Adam tentatively touched the scissors and sighed softly to himself. Death's request
was no different from the demands he had put on the young Doctor during his spell
as Soul Collector, but he'd been fighting for his own existence then... now it seemed
it was Dag's turn.
"I'll do it" he whispered with resignation across the cold Library and turned to face
the Reaper.

The lovers slept. The small crib sitting near the stone lecturn where The Book Of The
Wretched waited also gave the impression that it's contents slumbered, however the
strange offspring of Boy In A Dress and Pandora was far from the arms of Morpheus.
BIAD jnr. was listening.

"I admire your gentlemanly conduct Sir, but I require the female for this undertaking..."
Death growled from beneath his hood "...there are certain aphorisms that must be
adhered to" The tall figure glided over to the young man in the t-shirt and jeans like
a ghost and added "I think your kind would quote 'like-for-like' ... yes?" Death inquired

"What of the child...?" Dag said softly, she still struggled with the feeling that Pandora
and James Craddock could hear them. Magical-spell or not, Dag did not enjoy speaking
out loud so close to the sleeping pair.
"...What will become of the baby?" she asked and steeled herself from placing her hand
to her mouth.

The broad shoulders under the dark robes moved as if a chuckle struggled beneath it's
night-colour, Death waved a bony hand and seemed to become taller.
"That particular problem is in-hand, the baby will live with a couple that will rear it as itheir
own..." Death grumbled "...a destiny awaits that swaddled creature"

Adam glanced up at the host of the Library and asked "this man and woman, who are they?"
he forced his thoughts away from Death's wish of Pandora's slaying. The Doctor knew that
the Reaper's want of revenge was the only-true way out of this horrible place.

Death moved back towards the sleeping lovers and whispered almost inaudibly "who said
they are a man and woman?" The room's temperature dropped even more.

Dag plucked the scissors from the ornate box and gazed at the wicked blades, 'Cisorium of
a Tailor' -came the strange thought and she offered a puzzled brow to the young man
beside her. Adam shrugged and followed Dag's eyes towards the waiting Reaper beside the

"Shepherds used them to shear their herds, it is said that Delilah brought her lover to his
knees with such an instrument..." Death announced "...And of course, when one cuts one's
cloth accordingly, yon blades are the tools of the trade" he added. Both -Adam and Dag heard
the words said with a tone of anger.

Dag took the scissors and held them as a dagger, blade down and clutched in both hands.
The fair-haired girl breathed in deeply and silently convinced herself that this foul act was
necessary for a greater-good. She failed miserably.

''Gatto verde..." Death hissed "...the answer to the question you asked, the child will be reared
by your friend's Xang Cat" Adam showed surprised-eyes at the tall monster and twisted his
brow with more confusion "You want the kid to live with an animal!?" he asked.

As if a breeze entered the Library, a small photograph fell from the pages of the great book at
the lecturn and without another word, Adam walked over to it and picked it up.

"As you can see -my good Doctor, a child needs a Father too" Death snickered and waved for
Dag to step up to the bed.
edit on 6-4-2013 by A boy in a dress because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 6 2013 @ 05:25 PM
After lunch, neno couldn't decide whether to take a nap or walk it off. "Most folks die in their sleep" he mumbled to himself, and decided to walk it off instead, rather than try to take a nap on his still sore rib. Casting his gaze around to see which way he wanted to walk, he suddenly realized that he was gawdawful tired of seeing rock everywhere, and the group of strap-hangers which seemed to track his every move made him just a bit nervous, anyhow. Something wrong with folks who follow you every where you go, and take notes to boot!

Boarding the Starwolf, neno shouted to Margo "Git 'er airborne, woman! You need the flyin' time and I need a walk - I think you've pisened me er sumpin!"

Margo looked hurt. "You know I wouldn't poison you, you old curmudgeon! I hear you're too mean to die anyhow, so what would it profit me?"

"Be that as it may" neno answered "there is somethin' in my belly threatening to drag me into sleep, an' you know that folks DIE in their sleep, so I ain't goin'. Git me to the surface - ahm in need o' some fresh air!"

Navigating the warren of passages in the underground, Margo found the exit where she initially entered, with a pile up rubble beneath it - the remains of the tower that had been Rebo's final resting place. Going upward, the Starwolf at last broke surface in the middle of the ruined city, which was well into the process of being overtaken by the jungle.

"Thataway" neno said as he leaned on the back of the pilot seat Margo was sitting in. "Looks a little less... dense... over there."

Margo swept the panel with her eyes and said "looks like something living over here" and stabbed her finger at a point on a readout.

Neno harrumphed. "There's stuff living everywhere here! Most of it tries to make you NOT live."

"No no no" Margo insisted. "These dots have different colors than the other dots. Might be something special."

Neno squinted his eyes and peered at the read out. "Well I'll be damned" he observed. "That'n, the puke green one, that's Sslar. What in the devil is she doing out here? Better set it down near her so's we can pick her up. Big planet to loose yerself on." Margo maneuver the ship as close to the green dot as she could, but it still left some walking. Where Sslar was just had too much of a riot of life around, and they couldn't blow a hole to make a clearing too nearby, for fear of injuring the big Xang cat in the blast.

Once settled, nenothtu looked at the tangle of jungle outside the Starwolf. "Better get my big knife I reckon" he said, referring to the Caliburn. "Them viney things there are 'creepers'. Nasty stuff, needs choppin' Can't kill 'em by shootin', you've got to separate their physicality."

" 'Creepers'?" Margo queried. "That's just a vine of some kind, isn't it?"

"Yeah" neno said as he opened the storage cubby to retrieve the sword. "Vines that creep after you. They're plants that hunt."

Margo shuddered. "Nice planet you've got yourself here." she said, but neno was already on the move and out the hatch.

edit on 2013/4/6 by nenothtu because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 6 2013 @ 05:27 PM
Nenothtu worked his way through the tangle of vines, chopping as he went, but it was slow going. There was a lot of chopping to be done. "Damn this thick brush!" he muttered, more than once, placing the emphasis on a different word in the sentence each time.

At last, he saw the form of Sslar laying in the tangle. Laying. that just wasn't right. Upon closer inspection, he noted that the big cat was twitching as well, and it didn't appear to be the dreamy variety of twitch. Sslar wasn't sleeping, she was down.

Heedless of the danger of waking the Xang cat from a sleep, neno rushed to Sslar, stopping just short of touching her as good sense took hold of him. Snapping off the stalk of some strange plant with a whorl of leaves at the base from which the 6 foot stalk sprang skyward, neno poked her with the makeshift prod and said "Git up. Git yer lazy ass UP!" Sslar made no response other than perhaps a slight increase in her twitch rate. "Well THAT ain't good!" he mumbled. He approached close enough to inspect her. No blood. It wasn't one of the numerous carnivorous denizens of the jungle that had laid her out.

That was when neno noticed the thorn in the cat's paw. "DAM-MIT!" he growled, and snatched the thorn from her paw. It was a poison spine of the creeper plant, and had to be dealt with forthwith - it might be too late already. The first thing was to remove the thorn, so that the poison didn't continue entering the body. After that, neno started looking around, somewhat more frantically than was his habit. He was looking for a peculiar plant that had application in this situation. Not finding it, he started casting a wider search.

Now, how a plant would know that it was outclassed, neno had no idea. he only knew from previous experience, that if you whacked off enough of the vine's "arms", the plants noticed, and would start moving aside to allow you to pass, as they were now doing. 30 feet into the jungle along the path cleared by the vines as he went, neno found what he was looking for. He didn't bother to finesse it, instead he just ripped the medicinal plants up by their roots and stuffed a deep pocket on his slicker full of them.

When he turned to start back to Sslar was when he heard the voices. "... or neno's hair ball" was the first snatch of voice he heard, delivered in a dry, crackling near whisper. A sound that only could have come from Death himself. Nenothtu immediately started in the direction of the voice, Caliburn at the ready. When he heard:

‘We’ll decide like this.‘ Death bopped the heal of one clenched fist atop the crown of the other and began to chant, ‘One potato, two potato, three potato...’

... he stepped into the scene and growled "I wanna play, too."

Death snapped his head upward and almost calmly said "Ah! My dear nenothtu! So glad you could join us!"

Neno looked around and saw, of all things, Newman! He must be the other option in Death's little game of choice. "You ain't gonna be very damned happy in jus' a minute er two." No excitement in the statement, just calm fact, from neno's perspective. "What'n'tha'hell are ye doin' on MY rockball?"

Death tried to appear calm. "I'm DEATH, my dear boy. Everything dies, even here. I've got a right-of-way to anywhere I want to go. Today I wanted to come here to your world. pretty simple, that, nuh?"

"And ye intend to kill my 'hair ball'? I b'leive you'd best think again. This may not turn out well for Sslar, but it sure as hell ain't gonna turn out well for YOU."

Matter of factly, Death responded by saying "well that choice hasn't been made yet. It could be your little buddy Newman here. I'll tell you what. Since I'm in a good mood today, I'll let YOU decide which is to die. It couldn't be more fair than that, could it?"

Nenothtu whirled the giant sword in a lazy vertical circle in his right hand, then swapped hands to the left and did the same, limbering up his arms, before responding. "I choose option three" he said.

"I didn't give you a third option."

No, you didn't. I'm TAKING one. YOU."

Death cackled a dry, dusty, but nervous laugh, then said "I'm DEATH. How do you expect to kill me, youngster?"

Neno chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute as he continued working the sword in the air to loosen himself up. "I don't" he responded. "But I think you'd look a LOT scarier carrying your head around in your arms 'stead of on yer shoulders. I'm fixin' to make that happen, since I can't kill you outright" and with that he lunged forward at Death.

Every since a former encounter with nenothtu, in which Death took a sound thrashing, Death had been wary of the gunman and his sudden moves. This time, he was prepared. With a POOF and a WHOOSH, Death simply was not there any more, and the sword sliced through the air where his neck had been an instant before. Even though that was neno's plan all along, to simply make Death go away, he still felt somewhat cheated by Death in the exchange. "That just ain't right" he mumbled.

Newman, hearing the mumble but not catching the words, said "What was that?"

Nenothtu, as if seeing Newman for the first time, said "Oh. It's you. I said ' go to that crick over yonder" indiating a direction with his chin, "an' git me some of that bluish gooey clay on the banks of it. Then bring it to me over by Sslar. Got some mending to do. Jus' a double handful oughtta do it."

As if he hadn't heard, Newman said "What about Silo?"

"What about 'er?" neno responded.

"She's here on the planet, too. We've got to find her."

"Ahhh CRAP!" neno exhaled.

edit on 2013/4/6 by nenothtu because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 6 2013 @ 07:13 PM
Wild 'watched' all this while she thought she was sleeping. Brittle was beside her, sleeping as well. They were both fully clothed.
The silhouette she'd seen was the same colors as Sslar, and they (the colors) seemed to ignite something in her. Something about a 'Sisterhood'....she couldn't quite keep a grasp on it, but when she looked at the sleeping Brittle, there seemed to be an 'energy exchange' between them.....

What was it?
What was going on here?!

There was just blackness for a while in her sleep, then the shimmering shapes of two women came into view.
"You, too, are of the Sisterhood," they raspily whispered. "There is one called Dag...another called Mucklebones, and a third called Gert.. Dag is now in our realm. Mucklebones and Gert are still in your realm. It is imperative that you commune with them, to get a grip on how all this works."

"I am confused," thought Wild.

"Of course you are," the ethereal entities conveyed. "Gert is the one. Gert is the one who was meant to be Dag's servant. Now, since Dag has crossed over, it is Gert's duty to assist you. Mucklebones is aware of this; but her man is enmeshed in something else very crucial, and she needs your assistance to get on with the programmed plans."

"What plans?" thought Wild.

"Getting everyone safely off this planet. Everyone," she 'heard' in her mind.
The ethereal figures then faded, visually as well as audially, and Wild lay with her eyes wide, next to the still sleeping Brittle, and wondered where her 'father' Redbeard had gone. Obviously, this was a critical situation.

Wild then felt an overawing sucking at her psyche, and suddenly she was in the ether as well.
She watched from outside her body while Brittle slept and breathed, ever so slowly. "What?" she thought. "Sisterhood?"

She had no idea, and would never have been able to predict, what happened next.

edit on 6-4-2013 by wildtimes because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 7 2013 @ 10:29 AM

----------------------------------------The Verdict-------------------------------------

The Giant turned his huge head and gazed upon the small-being that appeared on the
pathway. That gravelled-track on which the Vithians had first led the brute to where
he now waited. Waiting, shackled and bound.

"You caused so much mayhem in that reality..." Chairman Toymes said in a soft voice
"...and you were warned at the very beginning"

The faint light from the lantern lay across the lined-face of the Committee man and the
Giant knew by the stony-features that he was in serious trouble.

Here, in a place millions of light-years from where the Giant once roamed a jungled land,
the Vithians would make the decision on whether the hulking Killer would continue his
mission of obtaining The Rootak Lapis. Unknown to the Giant, that decision had already
been made.

"Such bloodshed..." Toymes whispered "...and so many deaths. You have brought shame to
our brethren" and the old man in the hooded-robe looked on as the Giant squirmed under
his serious gaze.
It had almost worked. It had almost been perfect.

So long ago now, Tibbs had been sent out to befriend the immortal known as Carpenter and
the Devil called Boy In A Dress. The multi-being had been given this greatest of tasks because
of the Man/Girl's destiny in find the 'Shadow Diamond' -as the wigged freak had called it.

It was that stone that would have led them to the Dark Matter.
It was that stone that would have realligned the timelines and plugged the holes that time
travelling caused.
The Giant spluttered in his sobs, but Chairman Toymes ignored the childish-blubbering as he
pondered what was to become of his race.

The plan was simple, simple enough that-even Tibbs couldn't screw it up -Toymes mused
miserably. The Neo would acquire his world, the stone would be discovered and the crew
of The Yydryl would live happily-ever after on Khalamzadar IV.

Jordan XX was next up to the plate, Jarv IV was certain that the unnaturally-tall Vithain
would force the issue to it's conclusion. Yet sure enough, Mr. Jordan became bogged-down
with the day-to-day problems of wolves, crime bosses and Tibbs' bed-warmer.
At this particular moment the Committee weren't even sure where Jordan was.

The Giant clinked the massive links of his chains as he attempted a prayer and Toymes shook
his head with resignation "it seems even the ogre believes in a God "he muttered to himself.
And so they had brought the Giant back, the killings were not part of the plan and the marauding
monster was now to be held accountable.

Chairman Toymes felt for his hand-set and caressed the red button at the base of the machine.
"It's time" Toymes said and turned away from the changing scene before him.

For one Earth-second another view appeared, but that's for another day.

edit on 7-4-2013 by A boy in a dress because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 7 2013 @ 02:17 PM

---------------------------------- Connections -----------------------------------

In Arthurian Lore, it is said that when the King began his reign of his lands, he sought advice
from a mysterious wizard that was born from a demon and a woman.
Supposedly, this ear-whispering counsel was a Cambion.
The true-facts are alittle different and as some readers here know, facts can be far-more
interesting than fiction.

The scholar known as Geoffrey of Monmouth stated in his loose-workings of
Historia Regum Britanniae that the sorcerer known as 'Merlin' was a close-aide
of the great King Arthur and the sky-touching towers of the fabled Camelot cast their long
shadows on a robe-wrapped old man with crazy eyes.
Basically-speaking, Geoff was describing Tibbs

The Vale of Apples in the Glastonbury area did enjoy a pennant-flapping castle with braziers
illuminating the country lanes in the dark evenings. A wandering traveller would see noble
steeds carrying serious-faced Knights to police the surrounding hamlets and villages.
And a visitor to the place called Camelot would catch a glimpse of a enigmatic sage toying
with muttered spells and strange potions, but the 'Geoffster' had it wrong, it wasn't Merlin
and it wasn't even Tibbs.
It was Mr. Jordan.

Again, the tales and yarns of yore tell of battles, betrayals and bodice-ripping, but Geoffrey
of Monmouth
had missed a couple of the more-interesting facts on the fella' with the
magical wand. From what I've gathered, the roving bard was not-so diligent in his reasearch
-gathering when it came to mundane information.

The name 'Merlin' is a deviation of the word Myrddin which in Welsh means
'From The Hill Over The Sea' Some historians also looked on the stories of Lailoken
as a possible source of Monmouth's writings and this particular name means 'A Fool'
Are we seeing the Tarot cards rearing their heads yet?!

If the reader wished to discuss with Mr. Jordan which name was the-more accurate, I think
we would find a more disguised allusion.
'Murlynn' is a name he chose because in medieval times, it meant 'The Hour' and as we know,
Jordan XX of the Vithians is a time-traveller.

So, among the fields of barley and salt-of-the-earth peasants, we find an alien hiding out in
a time where his technology would be seen as magic and awe-inspiring, it's so overt... it's

Except Jordan's true reason for his dark arts among the ignorant is to uncover the origins of
something called 'The Sisterhood'

edit on 7-4-2013 by A boy in a dress because: (no reason given)

posted on Apr, 12 2013 @ 05:02 AM

* ~ * she’s back * ~ *

The pounding in her head kept her close to the surface of awareness but just below the conscious plane. Silo struggled against it. She wanted the dark, She wanted sleep. That exquisite bliss being nowhere, no one and nothing - not caught in the twilight of being and not.

Silo tried to morph from beneath her bonds into the tree she was bound to, into the ground just below her head, anywhere away from the vines holding her tight. But morphing was not a possibility, not now. Bound nude, upside down her limbs pressed close to her body was no hindrance to escape, it was the pressure of blood pooling in her head that negated morphing. She was at the mercy of the vines holding her tight their tiny barbed tendrils sucking her life away slowly, ever so slowly.


She responded by trying to close her eyes tight against the voice in her head but her blood engorged eyelids would not respond.


‘Who’s there?’ She answered her will flagging.

‘The vines don’t know they’re hurting you. Forgive them, it’s just their way.’ The feminine voice continued serene, unthreatening.

“I don’t care. Help me. Please.’ Silo begged.

‘Relax, let them feed. They will not let you die.’ Calm, so calm. The voice washed over her like an opiate.

‘Who are you? Help me, please.’ Silo begged again wanting to cry. Even that comfort was denied her.

‘I will. That’s why I’m here. Be patient little Silo. When the vines are sated I will help you - when no one else can.’ Like a balm the voice continued to warm her.

‘How will you help?’ Silo wept soundlessly.

‘I will make dreams come true...’

‘Who are you?’ Silo felt the contact slipping away.

‘Allena. I am Allena.’

The swell in voices near her head forced Silo even closer to consciousness. Voices she didn’t recognize. A language she didn’t understand. She wanted them to go away, leave her alone.

While the vines continued to feed Silo called the name over and over like a prayer. Allena. Allena. Over and over and over again until what little hope she had bled out leaving her empty never to hear the voice again.

posted on Apr, 21 2013 @ 07:02 AM

* ~ * Dreams come true * ~ *

‘Slow down son. Take it easy.’ He said the words like their meaning, drawing them out, making them last. From somewhere beyond the pain she heard him. Unmistakably male, using a tone to gentle frightened animals and children Silo didn’t understand the words but his voice soothed her, a balm to the tips of her conscious.

The boy understood the words but not the intent and kept on with his hacking. They’d found a girl no bigger than himself trapped like a fly in a spider web but unlike spun silk this web was a mean snarl of hungry vines and all unwilling to relinquish their meal. The sickening sound of their sucking against the hundreds of tiny cuts crisscrossing her skin was unnerving. He had to get her out. He just had to.

‘But we gotta hurry. She’s so white she’s near blue!’ The boy’s voice cracked and rang high in it’s struggle overcoming puberty.

‘And a slip a your blade wont help her will it?’ Exasperated the man moved to stave off a new attack of vines trying to keep them from reclaiming parts of the girl they’d just freed. Swearing he hacked away with his own knife with just a little more care than the boy. Damn it! He’d brought the lad out here to teach him woodcraft, have a fun-a-day maybe returning home with something meaty and fresh for the clan - not to risk the lads own skin saving an off-lander girl from a thirsty bunch of greens intent on draining her to dust.

With a yelp of pain the boy jumped back his face leached of color his knife raised cheek high in panic. A thin welt of red appeared near his temple to bleed down the line of his jaw. ‘It bit me!’ He squealed, shocked.

‘Damn and blast! I said be careful!!’ No time to coddle the boy the older warrior swore aloud when a third team of vines snaked from the underbrush to join the ones already feeding on the girl.

Redoubling his effort the boy chopped and cut willy-nilly a fop of lanky black hair falling over his eyes. It was all the older man could do not to groan in despair. When a smaller vine wrapped around his own wrist and drew blood he‘d had enough. Brains. Who needs ‘em he thought stepping back from the writhing mass of fauna.

‘’Enough!‘ He bellowed sheathing his dagger. ‘This is nothing but pure bloody evil I tell you.’ He all but stomped his booted feet. ’And you! Get away from her with that pig sticker a yours before you kill her!’

Red beard and hair flying the man swung his meaty arms clearing a temporary path through the whipping snarling vines. What a fool he‘d been! Faced with something he’d never encountered and he’d depended on his brain. Wasn’t his brother always admonishing him to put use to his mind before his might? So he had. Proving nothing but he’d been right in never listening to his mum’s own pup. Not only wasn’t intellect working but probably doing more harm than good all that time wasted in the fight to save the girl. Enough. Now it was time to do what he should have done in the first place. Use brawn. Unsheathing his longsword in one fluid movement the man’s eyes narrowed sparkling with a preternatural light.

Cracking his neck first to the left then to the right the warrior sucked a piece of his mustache between his front teeth ready to focus on the coming fight. ‘Stand back boy.’ He growled, ’This might get messy.‘

posted on Apr, 21 2013 @ 07:08 AM

* ~ * Dreams come true II * ~ *

Slicing through the finer tendrils like they were made of mist his blade caught the base of the largest vine as thick as his own forearm severing it clean through. With moves too fast for the eye to follow the man and his sword made quick work clearing the main vines. En masse the longer thinner creepers paused in their feeding and rose off of the girl turning their attention to their attacker. Like a throng of enraged snakes the vines struck. Rearing and plunging some striking high, while others crept in low the vines retaliated to the violence, but then no more than fleetingly. Aggressive when hungry but then towards something weak or hurt the whip like suckers quickly retreated from the cleaving iron shrinking back into the forest like they’d never been.

Dropping to one knee and placing a resounding kiss to the twin wolves adorning his hilt the man sheathed the blade cracked his neck again and swore roundly. It had been too easy. Disappointingly so. He’d make sure to include that in his report to his brother. Boosting off his dropped knee he gained his feet and smirked thinking of that audience to be. Then he remembered the girl who lay unmoving and streaked with blood at his feet.

‘Cover her!’ He barked tossing his cloak to the boy who did as he was told with one hand the other clutching his dagger raised in ready and wary of any vines that might return. Fascinated they watched a tiny tendril no thicker than the boys little finger slither it’s way back over the sand to wrap around the girls ankle. The boy’s mouth dropped open in horrified awe.

‘Damned tenacious aren't they.’ Chuckling the man pointed his chin at the vine prodding the boy to action. With gusto to spare the lad sawed at the little vine leaving the severed end flipping and writhing like a lizards tail.

‘Wrap that thing up in a piece a your cloak. Your Lord my brother will find it a’ His attention on gathering up the girl up in his arms the man knew his instructions would be followed and laughed when the boy squealed again.

‘But it’s still moving!’ No longer than his forearm the thing thrashed in his grip before snatching onto a length of his hair where it hung dripping a pink green slime from it's cut end while refusing to let go.

‘Your way will work too.‘ The man chuckled his wide mouth breaking into a frowning grin.

Narrowing his eyes but holding his tongue the boy wiped some of the slime from his cheek and scampered up the trail towards home the vine trailing from his hair flapping wildly as he ran.

Safe within the folds of his arms the sound of his great heart thumping next to her ear Silo snuggled closer to his warmth.

The man sighed deeply a great satisfaction stealing over him. Looking down at her pale skin and lavender hair the man’s smile faltered, his heart skipped a beat.

His brother was not going to believe this.

edit on 21-4-2013 by silo13 because: (no reason given)

posted on May, 15 2013 @ 02:30 AM

* ~ * Dreams come true III * ~ *

A days growth shadowing his jaw, the dark stubble at odds with the length of wheaten hair bunched into a loose braid twisting down his back the bedridden man shifted in his cot blanching with the pain but recognizing its worth. The twisting agony from broken rib and bone cleared his mind from the groggy daze of his mothers potion readying him for the audience with the one who was battering at the tough hide acting as door to his hut.

‘Enter!‘ He called pulling himself up to his elbows his legs useless his lip curling like a dogs before he replaced the snarl with a smile. He hoped his brother hadn’t seen his moment of weakness from where he stood squinting his eyes at the smoke from so many burning wicks crowding the little room.

‘’Come in! Come in!‘ Chuckling he raised his hand in welcome his eyes creasing at the corners in real pleasure of the greeting. ‘So brother, you’ve returned!’ The other man took his hand gripping it warmly.

‘None too soon I can tell you.’ His grin broke wide exposing a gap between his front teeth. ’Please, call for wine and food. I’ve a story to tell and need something to fill the hole in my belly and wash the dust from my mouth.‘ Stripping down to his leggings the man went to work making himself at home in the hut. ‘And have the lot of these little fires put out. It’s hotter than a whores...‘ His sentence was cut off by his brother’s ribald laugh.

‘Now now, no grousing. You know Mother insists on heat to heal my crippling.‘ He replied.

‘Put them out anyway. I‘ve an ugly story to tell and don’t need shadows jumping in every corner while doing it.’ Pulling a second couch closer to the center fire and focal point of the room he began tugged off his boots tossing them one my one into the corner before reclining.

The brothers shared a companionable silence while two young men served trays of fresh crusted bread, meat thick with yellow fat filling goblets with deep red wine while blatantly ignoring demands to extinguish the tapers.

‘So, Mother still rules I see?’ The red haired brother laughed from his couch his brows raised in question.

‘Did you doubt it for a moment?’ Cocking his chin his golden braid falling back over his shoulder the broken man raised his cup in salute and drank.
edit on 15-5-2013 by silo13 because: counter

posted on May, 15 2013 @ 02:35 AM

* ~ * Violet * ~ *

‘You say she was near dead when you found her?’ The tale had been told and now questions came lazy with wine and heat of the room.

‘Yes, but technically it was the boy who found her. Bloody ugly her all trussed up like a moth in a spiders web.’ He shuddered openly. ‘It’s a good thing she’s with our mother now. She would not live without her help I‘ve no doubt of that.’

‘And the boy? How did he carry himself?‘ Regret and a little bitterness tinged the question though he tried to hide it. The boy was his get. He had wanted to be the one to lead him into manhood but his encounter with the rogue Giant had changed all that. Now his brother, the boy’s Uncle would be doing what he could not.

‘He shows a lot of promise. He did well as any. Better even.‘ He remembered with pride the boys courage and determination. ‘Do you think he knows you sent us out hunting to keep him from going hell bent after that giant of yours?’

‘If he’s anything like we were as boys he knows.’ The man’s eyes lit with expectation as one of the young men returned carrying a vial of potion sent by his mother. He tongue touched his lips in anticipation of the relief soon to come.

‘What are we going to do about that menace?’ Rising from his couch the red bearded warrior brushed bread crusts and cheese rinds to the floor. If his brother must take his potion he would take his leave.

‘The Giant? That dirty bastard’ll not be back soon.’ He snarled remembering the encounter, ‘He busted me in two to be sure but left at a run with my spear buried deep in his gut,’ He sighed, ’and the rescue ship is only a few days off now, a week at most. Until then there’s guards posted.’ Receiving the tray of wine and potion he carefully poured the thick milky substance from vial to goblet. ‘It does present a dilemma for you though dear brother.’

“And that is?’ He paused pulling on his shirt.

‘What will you do with her? When the rescue ship gets here I mean.’ He moved his attention from his goblet long enough to watch his brother’s eyes carefully.

‘Violet?’ Feigning indifference he returned to lacing up his coat.

‘Is that what you’re calling her then?’ He laughed swirling the goblet forcing the liquids to mix.

‘We have to call her something, it might as well be the color of her hair.’ He told remembering the silky softness of it.

‘And what will you do with this ‘Violet’ when the rescue ship arrives?’ He didn't wait for an answer but drained the draft in one long pull.

‘Take her with us of course.’ He replied simply ducking out of the hut leaving his brother to take his ease.

edit on 15-5-2013 by silo13 because: bbc center

posted on May, 19 2013 @ 04:23 AM

* ~ * Violet II * ~ *

‘How’s your brother?’ The tallish women standing in the shadows demanded before he’d fully entered the make shift healer’s hut.

‘Nice to see you too Mother.’ The red bearded man replied without answering. Squinting in the dim light he made his way forward and swore under his breath.

Her over cloak, a soft homespun material of a shade that matched the purple smudges under her eyes, spread at her sides like wings unintentionally or not shielding the girl from his view. As if he hadn‘t spoken she put the question to him again. ‘How is your brother? You know he’ll not let me in to see him since his...accident.‘ Her poor choice of words and he spit. Two pairs of eyes were drawn to the floor where the wet spot gleamed disgustingly. Feigning indifference she hurried on.

‘Loosen your tongue and I’ll do the same. I know you’re only here about this one.’ Dropping her arms she stepped aside allowing a glimpse of the girl lain naked atop a kind of nook built into the wall, a crude shelf his mother used as an examination table. He stepped closer disturbed by the young woman’s stillness and vulnerability.

‘Always bargaining aren’t you Mother.’ He said around her, ’You’d think recent experience would have curbed you of that habit.’ His hand stalled only inches from her shoulder. He’d been ready to move her aside but he’d not laid hand on her in anger or love since he was a boy. The light flashing behind her two-toned eyes warned him this was not the day to start. Dropping his hand to the apothecary's table snugged between him and the girl he let the moment pass.

‘Dear Jenovah but you’ve been teething on my nerves since you broke gum. Enough!’ She soured taking the same tone as she’d used on him as a child. ‘Those who he'll have attend him will tell me no more than he takes his drugged wine, little food and sleeps.’ She showed her wrists palms up in a plea for mercy. He did not give it.

‘Draughts you keep him well supplied with.’ Toying with the vials and powders under his hand he recognized many of the herbs and salves his healer-Mother had used on her wounds. ’And do you think it’s wise allowing him his fill of your...drugs.’ He smiled thinly when she hissed at his use of words he knew she’d find barbed and crude.

‘Would you have me go against his wishes! He demands ease!’ Her palms rose in greater supplication her eyes widening.

‘You trespass when it suits you Madam!’ He words whistled through the gap in his teeth. The girl on the table stirred.

‘Then I’ll cut off his potions. He’ll see me then!’ She’d debased herself before this man for nothing. Thrilled anger filled the space left injured by pride.

‘You cut off his potions and I will cut off your nose to spite that beautiful face of yours!’ His knife drawn the point buried in the cowl at her throat the warrior bent to whisper in her ear. ‘I do not approve of his taking so much ’ease’ but you stop those potions at the peril of your own life!‘

‘Ohhhh but I am wearied of this!‘ Speaking the truth for the first time since he’d entered the hut she sunk herself down on the watcher’s chair placed close where the girl lay breathing raggedly. ‘Let us try at peace you and I. You are still my son. Now, tell me of your brother.’ Her sigh was real. It effected him more than her demands.

‘He wants to know if the girl will live. As do I.’ Turning back to the girl he touched a stray length of the girl’s hair curling the lavender lock around his finger.

‘She’s no girl she’s a woman - and I use the term loosely.’ She answered without malice. Coming from her any censure would be rudely misplaced.

‘She’s not human?’ He didn’t look back but she’d seen him start.

Turning in the chair she lit a new taper close to the girls head. ‘By the hells of Jenovah no.’

‘Interesting turn of phrase considering where we’ve been marooned these months.‘ Pulling a length of material much like his mother’s cloak over the girl he felt better when covered she snuggled into it’s warmth. Smiling wolfishly he gave his full attention to his dam who sat hands folded, waiting.

’Now, tell me of the girl and in return I’ll give you news of my brother.’ He gave in, he knew he would as had she, but not without a fight.

‘He will not wake for another half day.‘ His mother returned petulantly.

‘Then you’ll shall wait for your information, but I will not.’ Despite his smile his eyes narrowed, ‘Now Madam, begin.’

edit on 19-5-2013 by silo13 because: pic fix

posted on Jun, 14 2013 @ 02:04 PM

Connections II

Jordan XX, Mr. Jordan -the tall figure sent by The Vithian Council to urge or if need be,
take over from Tibbs in his quest to allign the timelines and get the crew ofThe Yydryl
to live out their existence on Khalamzadar IV.

The Diamond Dark would be the prize for delivering this destiny and it seemed that
Mr. Jordan would make sure the plan went accordingly, the quiet man in the quaker
hat would save the day... and begin a new one for the ancient race of Time Keepers.

Except he had fallen off the map, the lanky Vith with stupid buckled-headwear had
disappeared... gone AWOL -as Nenothtu would say.

It had happened only once before, during a mission to discover a phenomena that
had piqued the Council's interest on that small blue planet that had come to be a
constant thorn in the Vithian's side, the third one from a sun.

Jordan had hit the ground running on that mission, it was said that a species of
Maleficium had arrived on Earth and were planning to mine the planet of Scandium.

If any of the readers here have read the book 'Chantell's Manifest Of Minions' they
would know that the Maleficium needed this rare element to make their home-world
continue to rotate, something to do with meddling with it's core -it was later agreed.
Anyway, these multidimensional invaders landed on the soft-damp soil of a large
continent that held Scandium in substantial quantities in the Earth-year of 1691.

Due to the Maleficium's distaste for the ore we know as iron, they decided to 'utilise'
a group of humans that were hold-up in some sort of social gathering.
Town -to you and me.

Mr. Jordan was placed at a time that would thwart the ghost-like and body-snatching
Maleficiums. Arriving at the small town called Salem -Massachusetts in an appropriate
time to prepare for the quiet invasion, with a shiny-buckled hat he strode into the cleared
area that would be known in later years as Salem Common.

I will not bore the reader with the yarn of how these 'demon-like beings were thwarted,
albeit to say that the rumour that the hat-wearing stranger arriving in the god-fearing
congregation under the name of Roger Conant was originally a Salter -purveyor of salt,
was true... the Maleficiums hated that stuff too.
I recall Chairman Toymes commenting that the villagers should have raised a statue to
Mr. Jordan in his success of that mission and who knows, maybe they did.
But I digress.

After something called 'Witch Trials' and the decision of the indigenous species to
punish each other, Jordan XX was not heard of for three Earth days.
The Maleficium left for other possible deposits among the stars and the Council
agreed that nothing too disruptive had been done to the timeline.
Even The Splitter failed to register a complaint, so that shows what a small blip it
was in the planet's history. Well done -all round.

Then Jordan showed up in the middle of nowhere on a white patch of Gypsum
called White Sands and the date was July 16th 1945, the day they tested the bomb.
To the uninitiated, the White Sands Trinity site was where the first Atomic device was
tested and a thin-faced chappy called Robert Oppenheimer would go down in Earth
history as the man who set us out on a path to our destruction.
What none of these so-called historians would ever know was that this event assisted
in the future in a space travelling craft that could think and feel like a biological, for all
intents and purposes it was alive.

The ball-like apparatus that would sit in a small shack on the eye-aching sands in
New Mexico back in the days of black-and-white TV, the wired-bomb known affectionately
among the captured German scientists as 'The Gadget' was the great-great -great
(on and on!)... great Grand-daddy of The Yydryl.

And of course two years later, Boy In A Dress was discovered just a couple of miles up
east of the site along with Mucklebones and her crew taking a nose-dive nearby and
around the same time.
Coincidence...? I think not and I know that The Vithian Council believed Mr. Jordan
was somehow involved.

So here we are again, the great sage-like Vithian watching the changing of time from
under his wide-rimmed hat and watching it all from the battlements of a structure known
as Camelot.
If it's not one thing, then it's another.

posted on Jun, 24 2013 @ 02:23 PM


The daylight waited just over the horizon as Arthur stared from the upper-most window
of the royal tower, Guinevere slept on with a soft breathing that reminded Arthur of the
waves in the quiet bay where he had spent his childhood.
An eternity away -it seemed to him these days.

A lone crow winged it's way through the cool morning air towards the freshly-ploughed
fields of Avalon and Arthur sighed at a fleeting memory that the black raptor awoke.
Again, it was in his young days when the world was simpler and the sun was always
high in the sky.
Time was plenty.

"Don't you ever rest...?" Arthur's Mother called as the boy with the shoulder-length hair
raced among the corn, Eigyr watched her son laugh towards the cloudless sky as he
pushed corridors through the towering cereal.
The days that followed her husband's return from his battle on the West coast were good,
her family were safe again and her spouse had returned to the growing fields that would
need his care.

Though Uther was known as 'Pendragon' and held sway among the many hamlets and
villages around the marshy environs of Avalon, it meant little when harvest time came
around. The surrounding counties had suffered just as much during the long war and it
would be all-shoulders-to-the-wheel before Autumn would come a-calling.

She had grown to love him, the sour-faced man with the eyes of a hawk. Uther had tricked
her with that bastard Myrddin's magic and laid with her like an husband does.
Gorlois, her first-love and Father to her girls had perished in an accident that very night.
But time is a balm -they say... no?

Eigyr smiled at the half-made pouch on her lap and pushed the troubled thoughts away,
Elaine would be doing cartwheels in the courtyard when she saw that she had a purse that
rivalled Morgana's.
Sisters indeed.

The swaying stalks became still as Eigyr's deep-blue eyes looked up from her sewing,
Arthur's giggling had stopped and the green-brown curtain of corn offered no clue as
to what had caused it.
'Wolf' was her first thought as she scrambled to her feet, the hand-stitched tie-bag dropped
from her hands as she reached for the short knife that Uther had insisted she kept with her
at all times.
Arthur's tousled hair could be glimpsed among the tiger-stripe shadows in the spelt-stalks.

"Stand still Arthur... and don't cry out" Eigyr said evenly, the swish of her coarse-cloth
dress tearing a wake towards the still-small figure that faced away from her. She tightened
her small hand around the rough-handled dagger.

The grey boulder wrapped in strange vines had appeared from nowhere, it stood as high
as Morgana's pony enjoying the meadow grass over near the Tor and the object seemed to
be singing a soft melody to her boy.
Eigyr stepped next to where Arthur stood and looked at the thing that had halted the merriment.

'He was here and now he has moved on, yes...?' hissed the magical stone that glittered starlights
and whispered wizard songs. Arthur breathed through his nose and offered wide eyes, surely
his soul would be torn from him at any moment.

'...I come a long way boy and the one I seek will not avoid me any longer' the strange-round
ball in the corn rasped, Arthur heard the words in his head and in passing, wondered if he had
become mad.
The welcoming hand of his Mother rested on his shoulder as the smooth rock with the tangle
of leafless tendrils wrapping it's surface asked again 'I seek he who travelled your roads, he
who saved your woman from Morded's grasp and he -that stole your hallowed sword'

The summer breeze parted Arthur's fringe as he and his Mother gazed at the object that had
appeared from nowhere, the metal-like skin of the boulder seemed to shimmer under the late
-morning sun and what Eigyr took to be the many eyes of the mysterious entity, flashed as if
contemplating their fate.

The woman that had birthed three girls to the husband that she believed Uther had slain
slowly raised the knife towards the stone-from-hades and whispered to the staring lad beside
"Go Arthur, seek out the Pendragon for help..." came Eigyr's calm-soft voice, the 'thing' had
began it's strange singing again "...Run like the Devil is on your heels" she added.

There was no explosion, no loud noise or divots of soil flying through the air, the apparition
that had arrived on that summer morning in Avalon simply disappeared as quickly -and as
quietly as it had first arrived.

If Arthur had looked back in his fleeing, he may have seen the vision that his Mother -Eigyr
had been privvy to, the opening of the air behind the object, the magic space where demons
tarry -I'd wager.

(Continued Below)

posted on Jun, 24 2013 @ 02:25 PM
(From Above)

That had been long ago, a boy's life and before the many battle scars.
King Arthur Pendragon scratched his stubbly chin and wondered if the sorcerer would
know what it was that had appeared in that cornfield of his youth, the wide-rimmed hatted
necromancer always had the answers -Arthur mused from his bedroom window.

Maybe Myrddin -or to others Mr. Jordan, may have told his tall valiant King that the bizarre
apparition that had left a dark scorched area in the corn was a smoldering stone that
raced from the heavens in search of unknown enemies, maybe the Magician would have
imparted that the round-rock had been belched from Hell and whispered lies and deceit.

Mr. Jordan could have even told Arthur the truth, but the truth would be words of a maniac,
of gibbering lips and rolling eyes, a machine that could kill forever -indeed!

Arthur turned back to the sleeping Guinevere and just like the passing crow, the muse
left him.
His last thought on the matter was of the words he spied on the boulder's shiny hide,
the two words that he had never spoken of.
Trinity Site.

posted on Jun, 27 2013 @ 02:26 PM

"We've come a long way, you and I..." Robert Oppenheimer said softly to the dark shape
that waited under the canvas with him "...and now it's time to prove your worth"
He really wanted a cigarette right now, but showed a tight-lipped mouth in his resolve to
resist the temptation, General Groves Jr hated his weakness.

Somewhere far off, a siren called out across the vast white expanse of the area of white
sand and the sharp-faced man in the slightly-too-large suit breathed in deeply.
It was time.

The device began to whir and later, the theoretical physicist would swear to himself that he
couldn't actually recall switching 'The Gadget' on. He must of -of course, that's how things
Lightly tapping the bolted hatchway near the top of the spherical apparatus, he whispered
"sorry whoever you are" to the grey-metal surface.

The New Mexico sky burned blue as Mr. Oppenheimer left the tent. The bomb was ready, it's
occupant installed and all would go well.
Taking off his hat, the scientist who had discussed with Albert Einstein the idea of causing
time-shifts with the detonation of an atom bomb, the quiet Jewish man who'd argued with the
top-brass at Los Alamos about the insane-idea of placing 'somebody' inside the machine...
well, taking off his hat he mumbled a small prayer at that eye-hurting sky and lit a cigarette.

1945... the year the Earth would call out across the void that it had grown up, glancing back
at the fluttering tent-flap, he nodded once at the instrument humming to itself.
It was almost like a song.

"Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds" Robert Oppenheimer hissed despairingly
towards a passing Dust-Devil and headed for the waiting jeep.

"It's been a long road..." Drake said to Corky the Maintenance-Droid and nodded for the small
many-armed robots to begin the re-painting of the escape-pod that Bernard had used, "...and
now it's time to prove our worth"

The Bell sat slightly-askew near some canvas tarpaulin that Gilland and Henry Jessup had
requested for their next jaunt back down on Khalamzadar IV and the Head Repair-Droid
would be only too-happy to see the Repair Rooms back to some-sort of orderly condition.
Corky tilted his big bronze-coloured head and gazed out at Nenothtu's planet, the crew were
still down there and The Yydryl really needed to be on her way.

But to where...? The huge craft that waited among the stars must have a purpose -Corky
mused, she must have a mission.
There were supplies to store and machinery to prepare, mumbling that 'something should be
done' to himself, he headed for the waiting Maintenance Bay.

Boy In A Dress reset the blacked-out goggles that the scientists had insisted he wore for the
light-blast and waited in the darkness, they said he would be fine.

Unknown to the long-fringed fool in the embarrassingly-short dress, the 'test module' he'd
been placed in, the capsule that Mr. Oppenheimer had created and the men in military uniforms
had told him was to be used to go into space, chittered and whirred it's way to it's supposed

It would hurl the Man/Girl with the grinning lips two years into the future and it would awaken
forces never dreamed of by the small chain-smoking man racing across the New Mexico desert
or the wild-haired scientist who mentioned something about E=....

The men in the white coats knew that the odd-being that General Groves had brought into the
Los Alamos compound -under guard, the smiling maniac with the nice legs from the desert, the
eyeless creature from 'a place classified' would be instantly incinerated and the whole idea of
putting the confused oddity inside The Gadget just didn't make any scientific sense.
Hell, it didn't make any moral sense!

'The Atomic Marraige' Groves called it and swore them to secrecy.
July 16th 1945... BIAD would never remember this day.

But The Gadget would.
And it would come looking for it's bride.

edit on 27-6-2013 by A boy in a dress because: (no reason given)

posted on Jul, 3 2013 @ 04:26 AM

* ~ * Entangled * ~ *

For two days the red bearded warrior hunted the harsh surroundings of their camp for game. Big game. His mother’s potions might cough out a miracle or two for the sick or injured but what Violet needed to heal couldn’t be supplemented entirely from his dam’s herbs and powders. The girl needed red meat. Blood - and lots of it his mother had told him and the boy after she‘d patched up their ‘foundling’ as best she could.

So far he’d failed. The boy, had not.

Before noon each morning the lad returned to camp his game bag stuffed with the animals resembling big footed rabbits he himself had hunted as a boy, long tailed ‘whistlers’ the name they used for the indigenous mammal resembling fat gray squirrels of his homeland. Even a strange rotund creature who rolled itself up in a ball sporting spines when threatened. The product of the boys efforts kept the communal stew pots bubbling, the camp redolent of rich fatty meat and spice but what was good for the group lacked any real contribution to healing the girl.

‘Tell me something...’ The older man sighed while they sharpened their blades next to a morning fire the dawn still dark under her blanket of dark and stars.

‘What?’ The boys eyes rounded darting to the surrounding brush before returning to overseeing the workings of his knife.

‘How is it ye got such luck nabbing the wee creatures?’ A wiry tuft of his mustache caught between his front teeth the warrior satisfied with his blade sheathed it with a deft flip of the wrist.

‘It’s ‘im.’ The boy pointed to the sprig of vine tangled in his dirty forelock tucked behind his ear.

‘That thing still aint let go a your hair?’ Snatching the boys puny blade he scrutinized it’s bite running the pad of his thumb over the thin edge. A bright bead of blood sprung up under the slight pressure. Eyebrows raised the corners of his mouth dipped in a smile. The lad’s done a good job. Impressed the man handed back the knife without a word.

‘No Sir, he’s been stuck there since we rescued Violet.‘ Rising off his knees he tugged at the vine coming to life against his cheek, ‘an he points straight and true every time. Watch.’

‘Straight and true at what?‘ The warrior grumbled following the boy to the edge of camp. Close to the perimeter the vine stirred it’s tip weaving from side to side. When the boy stepped into the thick overgrowth the vine reared up like a hound sniffing the air.

‘What’d I tell ya!’ The boy smiled when the vines tip rubbed it’s stem and tip together creating a sound like cricket’s chirping. ‘He smells something and he’ll keep that noise up ‘til we’re just about on top a whatever it is too.’ Patting the vine the lad was rewarded with a soft purring sound before the vine stretched out impatient to continue the hunt.

‘Then what boy?’ The warriors beetle brows hunched over his eyes.

‘I catch whatever it is he smells and then feed him some a the blood.’ Jerking his hand from the vine the boy yelped and stuck his finger in his mouth, ‘Ya gots to watch ‘im close though,’ he said around his finger, ’He bites when he’s hungry.‘

Shaking his head the warrior’s chest swelled. His nephew was a grand boy. Made him proud. He wondered if his brother would ever tell the boy...

‘Maybe we should get you one too?‘ The suggestion was the closest his nephew would ever come to admitting his hero had returned to camp empty handed for days. Jumping from foot to foot he tumbled on, ‘The way I see it? We get you a big vine and you can catch something bigger for Violet!’ Triumphant shone from his shining eyes and great gap toothed smile.

‘You think that wee vine a yours will lead us to the bigger ones?’ Unable to resist the lad’s enthusiasm he let himself be drawn in.

‘Sure he can!‘ The boy’s eyes hooded, ‘but I don’t want to lose this one.’

‘Don’t you worry yourself or that twiglet a yours. I’ll not let them hurt your little friend.‘ The warrior reached out to touch the vine, thought better of it when the thing darted for the patch of red drying on his thumb. ‘Let’s go find me a vine worthy of,’ a man he’d almost misspoke and covered his words with another truth, ‘a man my size and when we do? For my thanks I’ll give you my blade.’ It had not gone unnoticed by him the boy had lusted over his knife since the first day he’d clapped his greedy eyes on it.

‘Deal.’ The two shook, sealing the bargain.

posted on Jul, 10 2013 @ 09:44 AM

* ~ * Hiss * ~ *

The large Zang cat nosed her way past a leathery hide, a thick skin draping over the doorway to the hut. It might have blocked the wind but not the scent luring the cat on. Limping forward into the dark interior Sslar lifted her nose, nostrils flaring. She’d found Silo.

‘Move no farther Cat.’ The words of warning hissed from the shadows.

Sslar’s tail bristled but she didn‘t stop. Swiveling her massive head atop her thick neck ‘the Cat’s’ gaze searched the room settling on a pair of mismatched eyes looking back from the darkness.

‘Lay down your fur. You’re hurt.‘ A tall woman simply but regally dressed and veiled stepped forward her palm held flat between them. ‘Come, I’ll help you.’ Lighting a taper she waved Sslar forward. Calm, cool, no scent of fear. Sslar knew then the woman was armed.

Growling, her tone brooking no interference Sslar made her way to Silo lying prone on a small rock shelf at the back of the hut.

‘Ahhh, the tables have turned, now I shall not move.’ Against her words the woman followed Sslar to where the girl lay unmoving.

Shoulder to shoulder their attention caught by a hitch in Silo’s shallow breathing the strangers chose peace.

‘A friend of yours no doubt?’ She asked.

Sslar sniffed then licked the gray hand hanging limp from the shelf. It wasn’t affection or even in answer to the woman’s question but Sslar's way of accessing Silo’s condition.

‘Friend then.‘ The Healer surmised. ‘And as you can see - or taste,’ a wry smile caught at her lips, ‘she’ll live. It will be slow, she needs blood. But she’ll survive.‘ Turning her attention to the pots of unguents, herbs and powders waiting on the preparation table the Healer made her second command. ‘Come. Enough of her. I’ll tend to your injury now.’

Obeying, this time, Sslar leapt onto the shelf at Silo’s feet waiting patiently while the woman lighted the many torches and bowls of fat strewn around the hut. A fiery reflection caught and held at her hip. A sickle knife hung neatly from the Healer’s plane woven belt.

‘It’s ornamental, a sign of my station. Healer, Priestess, Queen...’ She mumbled under her breath holding up a pair of vials measuring the contents of each with her mismatched eyes. Adding the contents of the vials to an earthen bowl of clotted fat she mixed the ointment letting the warmth of her fingers melt the congealed glob to liquid. ’I can smell the poison from here. You’re lucky you’re alive.’ She spoke matter-of-factly. ‘Now, give me your paw.’

Sslar held up her injured paw, now twice it’s size and waited for the reaction she knew was coming.

A quick intake of breath the healer paused. ‘So. You’re not alone.’ Untying the tattered piece of fabric from around Sslar’s injured foot she all but turned to check behind her. ‘And whoever bound your wound must be looking for you. Or her?’ The Healer’s eyebrows rose in Silo’s direction.

Sslar grumbled low in her throat before answering. ‘Yes. He’s looking. The Neno is close.’

Snarling with pain as the grip on her injured paw tightened Sslar knew the healer’s reaction had nothing to do with hearing the cat speak from within her own mind but who she spoke of.

‘The Neno? Here?’ Startled her eyes widen dilating until all but the thinnest rim of color remained.

Sslar dropped her chin slightly, then purred.

* ~ * * ~ *

‘Whaaaaaaaaaat! You didn’t tell my Mother?!’ He roared into the boys face, that small face only inches from his own - and upside-down.

‘No, I didn’t tell her about my vine.‘ He moaned, ‘I thought she would cut it off. I’m sorry!‘ He wailed his face suffused with blood from the pressure and mortification.

Equally red faced the warrior’s eyes dropped to the ground ten or more feet below them. The vines had shot from the underbrush snatching their ankles and flipping them topsy-turvy before sound or warning. They watched helplessly as the ground spun below where their weapons lay uselessly out of reach.

The boy moaned again miserably scrunching his eyes tightly shut.

‘Stop yer whining lad, what‘s done is done. I’ll not raise a hand to you.’ The warrior snorted at his own perverse joke. His arms secured at his sides by hundreds of smaller vines much like the one hanging from the boys forelock he couldn't have struck the lad if he wanted.

‘It’s not that.‘ His nephews eyes popped open alarmed. ‘I’m going to be...sick!’ The boy sputtered.

And then he was.
edit on 10-7-2013 by silo13 because: spelling

posted on Jul, 30 2013 @ 01:27 AM

* ~ * Machinations * ~ *

Healing salve spread liberally over her wound then bound and packed in animals skins full of hot water to help draw out any residual poison Sslar lay full length beside Silo atop the healing table.

‘You can’t fight it Sslar, ’ The Healer crooned watching the Zang cat fight the drugs she’d slipped into her water, ‘Let go. Sleep and heal. I've saved your life.’ She added as Sslar gave a toothy hiss, her huge head dropping to her paws her eyes closed.

Whispering ancient words under her breath the Healer stroked the velvety fur behind the cats ears. ‘Great Zang cat, ancient one, you’re bound now to me - as surely as your bond to the Neno is now broken.’

The Healer’s hand shook uneasily. Like it or not the cat was in her debt. It almost made the Healer feel pity for the regal beast. The cat's love and loyalty to Neno was the stuff of legends. Mg sighed, yet it wasn’t her rules changing the course of their lives but the rules of every Zang. They never forgot - and for good or ill the always paid their debts. The cat owed her.

‘Queen Mag...‘ A sycophant whispered from behind the raw hide flap covering the door.

Lost in the moment Mag didn’t immediately respond but with the Neno near she’d need all the strength she could come by. This was no time for austerity.

‘Yes, bring it in. Leave the food and drink on the table and go.’ Mag didn’t turn. 'When my son returns send him to me. Immediately.’

Pinching out the tiny flames ringing the room Mag left three candles burning. One on the table where her food and wine waited, one by the Zang cat and Silo, the last perched before a small statue placed in a niche in the wall, a statue of a dragon crafted from dragon bone as priceless as it was rare.

And if you looked just right as the flame flickered just so? Deep in the emerald eyes of the effigy a shadow flickered. The shadow of man and a Sword.

The Neno.

edit on 30-7-2013 by silo13 because: (no reason given)

posted on Aug, 16 2013 @ 11:49 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~. As Above, So Below.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The water called to Boy In A Dress in the way an Autumn breeze calls to the child
that the last chance of play is slipping away before the Winter drags in it's sack of
cold. It's a secret talk, words whispered to the soul.
And it was deep... so very deep.

The smooth-faced young man from the Base under the desert looked on as his long
-haired assignment in the short red dress slowly gazed at the documents that the
white-coats had given him.
If Hy Brasil was down there, Boy In A Dress must find it. Colonel Groves' future in
the Military echelon would certainly depend upon it.

The late-Winter night sky offered cold shining medals that rivalled the stern-faced eagle
above the many-coloured braids on Groves' chest, it too looked on at the clandestine
Colonel Groves was 'Marine' through-and-through and he felt that if this latest task
that his superior had given was a success, then he would set at-least one foot on
the rung to being a Brigadier General.
The weird creature that he'd been assigned to would not mess up, could not mess up.

"We're right over it..." Dr. Wigner called from the ship's starboard railings and looked up
from the dark waves. "...It's time to get your... er, diver ready, Sir" he added.
The ship began to run it's generators and Colonel Groves knew the hull-doors would
be opening. It was just like when they'd attempted to pull the Russian sub up from the
sea-bed, except this time they would get what they wanted.
Something the scientist called Oppenheimer wanted... something to win the war.
Something lost down there and now found.
The big glass rock.

It was down there, Groves knew that even though it may lay under a thousand feet
of water, the 'thing' in the red dress would find it.
There had been tests at Dulce and it seemed the grinning-guy with the body of a female
could withstand extreme pressure... and hold his breath.
If all went well, he would then escort the 'BIAD' to Los Alamos for another secret mission
and maybe -just maybe he'd have moved along in his carreer.
Stupid red dress.

So it was deep and Boy In A Dress knew it. Well, he knew it, but Groves wagered to himself
as he watched the Man/Girl step along the submerged walkway that the grinning fool didn't
understand how deep.
Deep enough to crush that dress-hugging freak like a tin can.

"We want you to look for something that resembles a large crystal..." Dr. Wigner cooed softly to
Boy In A Dress as slipped his ridiculously-high-heel shoes off. "...We're expecting great things
from you this time" he added in his thick-German accent and patted the seated Man/Girl on the
mass of black hair.
Wigner would later mention to the three scientists waiting on the hold's gang-walk that he felt
the creature's tresses beneath his hand move, as if they had a life of their own.

But at this moment, Dr. Eugene Wigner was observing from the gang-walk with his fellow
-scientists and pondering another idea, an idea to use this shiny-thighed guinea-pig in a test to
prove his belief that reality can be altered.
Eugene wiped his high forehead and concentrated with the task in-hand.

The coast of Ireland lay somewhere behind them in the darkness as Boy In A Dress waded
carefully forward along the metal shelf that would take him to the place called by the concerned
-looking men in the white coats the 'drop-off point'
To the stony-faced soldier with the braid on his chest standing in the camera room and to the
serious-faced scientists on the metal ledge, the water did look cold.

"The item should be glassy and about the size of your head!" Dr. William Hout called from the
lofty shadows, the ship's hold made his voice echo and weak. Hout would be the one who would
suggest Boy In A Dress be placed in the device known as 'The Gadget' a year from now.
"Good luck" he offered and glanced at his cohorts for reassurance.
BIAD watched silently as the water reached his shoulders.

He was ready.
edit on 16-8-2013 by A boy in a dress because: Left inflateble armbands in Edit Room

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