by LeatherQueen » Sat Mar 23, 2002 12:26 am
And yes... I have spent some time in formal troll court. It's where I learned to properly scrape and bow before the almighty and imaginative trolls. And where I learned to love and fear in equal parts their very wonderful minds.
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"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory
by jomarch » Sat Mar 23, 2002 12:29 am
Sounds you can't regconize but keep hearing it grow louder and louder as it gets closer - Always not a good thing, always. Check!
Ok, have decided to join Pixie and maudmac in the bath. Harness needs good washing too.
*Maudmac, hon, I could use a rubber ducky and some lavender bath salts, thanks*
by maudmac » Sat Mar 23, 2002 2:14 am
*holds up one rubber ducky, waggles it around for a minute, winks*
Okay, jomarch, if I give this to you, you have to sing the song.
Looky here, I got all kinds of lavendery stuff. And I picked up some patches for the knees of my mitten robe AND I got the last jam tart in all the land. Ooo! And some puddin'.
*runs out for a second to make deliveries to the other threads*
I have a feeling I'll be making a lot of KAE runs in the near future. Where's a teleportation spell when you need one?
*flings off harness, sprinkles lavender bath salts, and settles in*
Hey, y'all...um...I got a loofah. Loofahs, you know, they don't, uh, reach, and all. So can someone get my back for me?
by wiccachica » Mon Mar 25, 2002 7:59 am
Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: Lucy in Disguise with Demons
The gondola eases against the platform so lightly that I don't even feel as though we have come to a complete stop.
The conductor offers a lean hand to help us out onto the landing.
" Fifteen minutes...just like I promised." He says.
It seemed like no time at all, and yet....like a hundred years had gone by...
" Well...thanks." Willow says...shaking his right hand...while he helps me steady myself with his left... " I guess we had better find our friends...they can't be too far off..." She says.
I'm staring down at my hand....at my hand in this man's...and I'm feeling something... something in the pit of my stomach...like the Ferris Wheel hasn't stopped...like it's still surging downward... taking only my stomach with it....I look him in the eye.
How is it I hadn't seen it before...? How had I blindly walked by this man to get on this ride...and watched him wave up at us earlier...and not seen it?
Because he hadn't WANTED you to see him, Tara...face it...and maybe you hadn't wanted to see him either....but you know him...don't you...you know him...
" Not too far...right...." He agrees, looking at me while he answers Willow. He nods to me with a sort of sad conspiracy, and I can't look away...
Not until Willow reaches over and takes my hand in hers...and the world under my feet stops shifting downward...and becomes solid once more.
I take my other hand from his...and discreetly wipe it on my skirt.
" What's the biggest attraction in the Carnival...cuz that's where they'll be..." Willow says.
The conductor closes the gate on the gondola...
" Then your friends are at the Crimson Curtain..." He says. "It's the most popular attraction...even though I like to think that the Ferris Wheel catches the eyes of everyone for miles...It's Lady Ambage and her Crimson Curtain..."
He shrugs and gives us a chagrined smile. " It's human nature to want to know how far you are going to fall than how high you can climb...."
He reaches to his back pocket and removes a rumpled looking map....a map grizzled with use...and coloured by years of service to its owner....
" You'll find what you are looking for...with this....It's old...but it still holds up." He puts it in my hand.
" I'm sure that we can find our way around here without..." I start to say...
" This place has more to it than meets the eye, ladies....use the map." He says quickly...walking back over to the control panel and resuming his business without so much as a by or leave...
I hand the map to Willow...wanting nothing to do with it...feeling him glance my way again as we walk out of the gated area surrounding the Ferris Wheel.
"Are you going to tell me what THAT was all about...?" Willow asks me as we make our way through the crowds of the main thoroughfare.
"What WHAT was all about..?" I say...truly not knowing which part of that very weird experience she is referring to.
" You were looking at the Ferris Wheel guy as though he were talking about eating fuzzy little Koala bears the entire time we were talking to him...." She says...looking to the side at me.
He might as well have been for all it mattered.
" This is going to sound weird..." I start....
And there it is...the world's most useless disclaimer of all time...at least when you are talking about practically any instance of my life...or ANY discussion about a day on the Hellmouth...
Yes...'this is going to sound weird' is a way to let the NORMAL people digest just how crazy you are NOT...to align yourself to the brief snatches of sanity in a day in Sunnydale.
'This is going to sound weird'...
...To anyone else...a silent plea for understanding...to Willow...a way to let her know that I speak a truth that even I don't understand.....or necessarily believe...
" Weirder than that moment back there when I thought you were going to ralph on that man's shoes?" Willow says...with a smile....
And I know she is now listening...
" I...think I know him....I mean...not now...but I think I KNEW him....I think I knew him a long time ago..." I say reluctantly.
You don't THINK so, Tara....you KNOW...it's him...it's him....and you just can't handle it because it will drive you mad.....
" Who do you think he is...?" Willow asks...concern pulling at her pretty features.
And if you tell her...she'll think you're crazy too....
" Will...I..." I work my mouth around the words...but they don't make it past my throat... If I say it ...it may make it real...it could mean....
" Tare...? Who was that man?" Willow says...pulling me to a stop with a hand...She sees the fear in my expression.
But look at that look in her eyes...she loves you...she loves you no matter what....
" Mr. Tearlach...." I say...." My second grade teacher..." Willow pauses only a second to process this before smiling at me...and giving me a playful nudge with her arm.
" See...? That's NOT impossible...a little odd maybe...the guy that taught you how to read just took a bribe to leave you and your girlfriend up at the top of his ride...to ...ah...you know...a little off the road, sure...but not...."
" Willow...Honey....he's dead." I say......
And there it is.....big and bright...and right out there in the big wide open....and here comes the look...the only look Willow could possibly give me right now...
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"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 25, 2002).]
by supermus » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:12 am
by wiccachica » Mon Mar 25, 2002 10:55 am
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: Go the Dissonance
I'm a rock....a golden warrior of valour.....a varitable man-at-arms for this motley troupe...
Click----scrape---click----scrape.
But frankly even I don't want to be here when the owner of that bloody sound gets here.
" What IS that???" Anya shrieks...as we all back away from the general direction the sound is coming from....
Out of a gray mist it comes...skulking...slinking...on tip toes made of thunder...on dulcet feet of dissonance...it creeps into my night....
A childhood rhyme....to scare curfews and obedience into the young.... Nothing more than a fairy tale for the weak minded.....
Click----scrape---click----scrape.
And yet something tells me that all stories come from something...from something TRUE to form....
A Lifetime movie...swimming in exaggeration but based most irrefutably on some morsel of fact...
In lupine skin it comes for me...it sings my name upon the winds.....it wants to lead my soul from me....as penance for my sins....
" Whatever it is...I DEFINATELY know that I don't like the sound of it..." Xander says.
Click----scrape---click----scrape.
Just as I am about to agree that we make a hasty retreat...a thin mist wafts over the fairground...only an inch or so high...but enough to turn my insides to putty....
A filmy white lubricant for the treacherous beast that is about to present tself to us....
I am now ready to beat a remarkably rapid escape from whatever could possibly be preceded by this thready and unimaginably inappropriate fog.
Click----scrape---click----scrape.
" We should run....we should definitely run...." Danger says adamantly. The loose head on his Spuds Mackenzie dog flopping agreeably in acquiescence.
Who am I to disagree with the Original Party Animal...
Even a golden warrior of valour and his trusty friends have to lead the way out of trouble in a full fledged sprint on occasion...
We run in the exact opposite direction of that sound and the fog...the only unspoken plan we have agreed on as long as I have known any of them...
Besides...we have to find Willow and Tara and get the bloody hell out of here....
Lets just hope they are in the direction that we are taking to heels like Olympic champions...
TBC....
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"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
by wiccachica » Mon Mar 25, 2002 12:23 pm
The Afternoon Edition:
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen: Just Call Me Little Miss Fortune…
Three whole minutes and not a single word….
We walk side by side…I’m watching the patrons mill around us with barely subdued interest. She is watching the fair ahead of us…her brow crinkled in thought…
The booths we pass…not unusual for a carnival….but…different….white-washed even…
…Like beneath the cheerful humour of this place lies an abscess…rooted deeply into the ground…tapping into the Hellmouth below…and leeching dark power from it’s recesses…
I’m definitely crazy…..Who but me could find sinister trappings in the brightly lit Duck Shoot…or a busy Skee-Ball? From children giggling…or people laughing and screaming with joy?
I’m thinking I’m one sick puppy….that I need to pull myself out of this awful funk of negativity….
And yet even as we pass by the merry-go-round…the ride that brings the most joy to children and adults alike…the very personification of the idea of a Carnival…there is something about it…about that big turning sandwich of brightly painted wooden horses…muzzles pulled back in rictus shouts of indignation….heads thrown upward in surprise as though frozen in place against their will hundreds of years ago… fixed to this eternal turnstile with golden poles…. Forever running away from the off-key calliope music that wafts down from the ceiling….
But three minutes and nothing from Willow…frightens you even more…doesn’t it, Tara…We’re walking in the general direction of Lady Ambage’s Crimson Curtain….and the whole time she’s holding onto your hand like she’s drowning and you’re the only person standing on dry land…but….still…not a single word from her…
By the time we near the Crimson Curtain…the clattering-chirping-clinking of a busy fair has fooled me into a sense of desperate normalcy…I almost find myself WANTING to stop and squirt water into that damned wooden clown’s grinning mouth until his balloon nose goes ^pop^ … or tossing a softball at a pyramid of tin cans….. Anything to take my mind of the awful truth….
The truth is…Willow thinks you’re crazy…That’s why she isn’t saying anything…She’s written you off…
We navigate the seemingly endless rows of booths ..past the expansive black walls of the House of Human Marvels….past the tireless flows of fairgoers that enter the double black doors…
Past all of this to the entrance of the Crimson Curtain… A small building that looks like it has been nestled to this spot for centuries rather than one night…. A huge red eye is fastened to a blue door… Blood red curtains dance against the slight breeze that has picked up….
Blood-Red-Blood-Red-Blood-Red……come to me…come to me….
Nothing indicates our friend are here….but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t inside….inside this place that has struck a nerve with me….
Touch the black handle, Tara….come…you know you want to find me…here….
Willow takes a step towards the door…reaches for the large black handle…
Touch the black handle, come…COME to me….
And I pull her viciously short…She snaps back to me as though fashioned to a short chain…turning to gawk at me widely.
" Tara!" She says in surprise….but I just stare at the door…..
I hadn’t meant to pull so hard…I hadn’t meant to stop her…but….something was guiding my actions…something was amplifying itself….not only in my brain…but in every fiber of my being…every molecule of me ached to heed the call…
Put your hand on the black handle…put your hand THERE…come to me…come to ME….my Tara…..you are my Tara….MY Tara…..MY TARA…..MY-TARA……
Against my own will…I’m reaching out….I’m reaching… out…to that insidious black handle…the colour of pitch…even before my flesh touches it…I can feel it coming off the dark metal in waves… singing beneath my fingers….
And …somewhere….very far away…billions of light-years from where I’m straining to touch something I barely recognize as darkly forbidden…I can hear Willow calling out to me…
Tara! What are you doing??? Tara…?…
But it is willing me closer…bating me to clamp down my hand and complete the circuit…..
….My Tara…come to me…welcome home…..yesssssssss…
TBC…
(so sorry about the double posting! eek!)
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"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 25, 2002).]
by NewRuthRising » Mon Mar 25, 2002 2:28 pm
by canadian kitty » Mon Mar 25, 2002 2:41 pm
CK
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"Do you wanna go out some time, for coffee, food, kisses and gay love?" Willow - Normal Again.
by Sassette » Mon Mar 25, 2002 3:37 pm
Of course, I'm actually kind of giggling, too, because I'm imagining Igor with his humpback and his gimpy leg wearing tap shoes.
Click-Scrape. Click-Scrape.
-Sass
by jomarch » Mon Mar 25, 2002 5:08 pm
quote:
Originally posted by canadian kitty:
Is the click-scrape-click-scrape sound freaking anyone else out?CK
*Raises hand* yup definitely freaked out here. Not a good sound, so not a good sound. Do we have ear-muffs at the emporium?
[This message has been edited by jomarch (edited March 25, 2002).]
quote:by Mini-ALF » Mon Mar 25, 2002 7:52 pm
--Michelle
by Owl » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:03 pm
Sassette... Igor in tap shoes? Now that's something that'll stay with you... rotfl.
Jomarch - I believe Pixie is the Liason to the Kitten Emporium. So what do you say, teiers? Earmuffs?
[This message has been edited by Owl (edited March 25, 2002).]
by Pixie » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:30 pm
Maybe I should just appeal directly to the Troll. My darling scritchalupagus, perhaps you could reveal the big bad soon, so the scoobies can kick some big bad butt?
by Owl » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:40 pm
sneaks up behind and places earmuffs on her.
Owl: "can you hear me now?"
Pixie: "No..."
Owl: "gooood."
*flying leap into Pixie's lap*
[This message has been edited by Owl (edited March 25, 2002).]
by bulldog_tidnab » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:46 pm
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i'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back...
by Pixie » Mon Mar 25, 2002 9:51 pm
by NewRuthRising » Tue Mar 26, 2002 5:40 am
by caoilin » Tue Mar 26, 2002 8:46 am
Brilliant. Freakin' brilliant!
-Caoilin
by wiccachica » Tue Mar 26, 2002 9:46 am
I have always thought that the scariest thing in the world is not a tangible monster...but that cretin within our own imagination... If it makes you feel better...I am TERRIFIED of carnivals...and the clicky scrapey sound has already given me two nights of bad dreams.... but I have to say it's kind of a therapy session for me to watch the troll write this...
caoilin.... Thank you so much for your kind words...I am soooo happy you are enjoying this!
If anything...I hope to affect you all in some slight way with the imagery in my fic... a little giggle while you do the laundry... or a tiny shudder when you see a Scary-go-Round... then I will have completed my work..... (wink)
So with that...I give you...
The Morning Edition:
Today’s Disclaimer: I do not own Spuds Mackenzie or his slogans…I am merely playing with Anheuser-Busch’s toy…dog….oh…nor do I consciously support the consumption of…non imported beer….(and especially not by minors)
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen: Get Thee to a Mummery!
" Tara! What are you doing??? Tara…?…Can you hear me?" I say to her…but she doesn’t seem to hear me. She reaches out…her fingers hovering just a few millimeters above the handle…a far away look in her eyes…
If she didn’t like the idea of ME touching it…I can think of a million more reasons why SHE shouldn’t in her present state...
It’s like she’s listening to something I can’t hear…like she’s in a sort of…trance…
Her other hand ..the one still entangled in my own, clenches down…HARD…on my own…pressing my fingers uncomfortably together…she’s not trying to hurt me…she’s trying to…tell me something…
Don’t let me…don’t let me touch that handle…don’t let me…
I pull her towards me… a fraction of a second too late.
As her fingers brush the cold metal of the handle….and they lock around it…as though now possessing a mind of their own…
The door snaps open under her touch…and a sound…like the blare of a foghorn mingled with thousands upon thousands of terrified screams….and against that wall of physical sound I am sent hurtling backwards…my hand wrenched mercilessly from Tara’s as though by some jealous specter…
I land hard on my side… The breath knocked out of me momentarily.
What the heck just happened here?
The world around me is spinning, my ears ringing… a dull ache in my hip where it had struck the hard-packed soil. I look up just in time to see the door slam shut…sealing a surprised Tara inside…
I swallow air…wipe at my eyes…and roll onto my back…unable to get the sky to stop arcing to the left.
Just like when you were a little girl…and you would twirl and twirl and fall into the grass…and lay there to watch everything move on its own accord…
Only this time I want it to stop…
I roll to one side…and try to get my legs to catch the moving ground…I must look like a prize fighter trying to beat a ten count…from face down on the floor…
" Will! Willow!" I hear Dawn’s voice…still slightly muffled by the ringing….
I feel arms under my own…lifting me to my feet…
Ding…ding…throw in the towel coach…this one is over….
I turn my head on a neck that feels like a wet towel to see Danger holding me up from behind.
" Oh…I can stand…" I hear my mouth say….
Personally I think it’s playing a practical joke on you, Will….cuz these legs…they ain’t workin…
Danger gently lets me go…
And my legs gently buckle beneath me….
And I gently crash into the ground again…my cheek bouncing off the ground slightly…my vision suddenly filled with the stuffed white bull terrier Danger had set down to help me in the first place.
The Terrier stares at me with factory-sewn bead eyes….
You look good like that… He says to me…His thread mouth unmoving…but his message coming across all the same…
Why…thank you Mr. Mackenzie…
You should come by some time….audition to be one of my Spudettes… Spuds winks a plastic black eye at me…
You think? You think I could? Even though my legs don’t want to come with me?
" What’s wrong with her?" I hear Danger ask Dawn…
" I’m having a conversation…do you MIND???" I mumble angrily from the soil.
This Spuds for you, Baby…. Spuds says.
" Danger…lets get her up again…. " Dawn says from waaaaay up there…where the standing people exist…
I feel arms under me again…lifting me away from Spuds…out of his line of sight…. propping me up on my feet again. The blood rushes back out of my head to its designed places…
But the fight is over…right…? The towel has been thrown in?
I look at them. My thoughts sliding back into place…
" You’re all alone…" I say.
" We got split up running from the big….well…Scary Sound….." Danger says.
" Where’s Tara?" Dawn asks me.
" We have to get her….out…" I say, clinging to Danger’s arms to keep from falling…my head propped against his chest behind me.
I lift a soggy arm to point….at the Dunk the Monkey booth standing right where the Crimson Curtain had been just moments ago.
My senses are sobering…too quickly to bear now…
I may be Punchy McPunch Girl right now…but I’m not crazy…it was JUST here….
" She’s in a Dunk the Monkey?" Dawn says warily….
NO-no-no-no… She’s in the big red house of curtains….the one that is no longer ANYWHERE in the vicinity…
" It took her…" I moan… " It was just here…" I say.
" WHAT was?" Now there is an edge of panic to Dawn’s voice…I recognize the tiny quiver.
" The Crimson Curtain…It was just…" I stop suddenly to pull up and away from Danger a little…so I can take the crumpled map out of my pocket. "Here…"
My head is still swimming…my joints loose and threatening to give out on me all at once…but I manage to ignore their mutinous warnings right now and concentrate on what I’m seeing…
The map has changed.
Or not so much the map itself….but the location of the Crimson Curtain.
It is now on the opposite side of the fair from where we are standing….
I tap the spot definitively with the tip of my finger…
" We have to find Tara…she’s in THIS place…near the Tilt-a-Whirl…and then we have to find the others…and get the heck out of here…This place is haunted…" I say…wincing at the utter look of terror on Dawn’s face…she tries to mask it…but it is there….
Danger offers an arm around my waist to help me walk…he picks up his Spuds with his other.
" You should really think about leaving that thing behind, Danger." Dawn says.
He looks at the worse for wear stuffed toy and back at her.
" I can’t…" Is all he says…and reaffirms his hold on both me…and the Party animal…
At least he has his priorities straight.
And Tara…Sweetie…hold on…I’m coming to find you….!!
TBC…
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"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
by Sassette » Tue Mar 26, 2002 10:16 am
Okay, this Spuds Mackenzie thing is thoroughly cracking me up. Thanks for the update - you rock *G*
-Sass
by wiccachica » Tue Mar 26, 2002 12:32 pm
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen: A Traveler Walks the Thinnest Lines…
The little girl wakes up to the tacaroo of the nightingale…the singsong of distant crickets…and a blessed reprieve from the awful sound of the thing that chases her.
She finds herself laying face-down in a nest of fir nettles, and giant tree leaves twice the size of her own tiny hands put together…
She is in the woods…. somewhere…
Which woods…and how large they might be are beyond her tiny child’s scope…but finding her mother is not….
How far have you gone this time? How many miles will you have to walk to find her?
Though she is a brave little girl…a very brave little girl…tears well up in her large blue eyes…her bottom lip quivers as she looks around.
She wants her mother…very badly…
She wants the safety of her embrace…the soft lull of her voice….
She’ll even bear the gruffness of her father’s disapproving glare…and the constant badgering of her older brother…if it means the safety of the place she calls home.
The little girl stands up…she brushes the debris from her skirt and legs….picks the twigs from her honey-blonde hair…. And takes a silent mental report of her surroundings…
Darkness…swathed in a sable blanket … smattered with monstrously tall trees…
Something in that darkness moves…rustling the brush at the perimeter….not with the blatant sound of something more afraid of her than she of it…but something else…
Something that moves with the knowledge that little girls don’t run so fast…that they have tasty little legs…and yummy little arms…
And when they are all alone in the dark…they are even better…
This thing does not want her because she is special…because she can do very special things…or because it wants to keep her for its very own…
It wants to have her for supper….or maybe since she’s so very small…dessert…
The little girl does not take her eyes from that spot where the sound comes …
Though she is a brave little girl…the very bravest little girl… her little heart thrums madly…and her legs lock her to the spot where she stands.
Now…more than ever…she needs this to work…she needs to go….
And she knows that if she wishes hard enough with all her heart…that she will be able to leave these woods and their sneaky sounds…and their darkness…
But she also knows that it’s sometimes like a dream…where the faster you want to run…the slower..you get…or you are haplessly stuck to a spot…. glued there because you tried too hard…
Have to go…have to go…. Have to……
And her wish is granted once again…and the darkness becomes absolute….
And the little girl is on her way…
Enrobed in grateful unconsciousness…and left to the wind…. The very bravest little girl is on the move again…
Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen: The Softer Side of Seers
Finding the Waking World is a lot like swimming upward through thousands of gallons of molasses…
Finding it here…makes me want to dive back in to try again…
Isn’t there somewhere you should be? Where is Willow? Where is the Carnival???
I blink.
I am on my back…slowly rocking…
But it is not you who is rocking…it is the red-swathed world… or at least the little monkey…
You think I’m crazy…but there is ACTUALLY a tiny gray monkey in a red bell-hop jacket and short pants perched just above me…rocking his small trapeze swing to and fro….
He chatters angrily down at me as though it was I who disturbed HIS slumber….
I push myself up into a sitting position…unable to contain my latent fear….
This can’t be happening…this can’t be the SAME place….you tried so hard to forget, Tara….and you had been successful until today….
As I stand up, the monkey chatters even more angrily and plucks at my hair to emphasize its point.
" He’s asking where you’ve been…" A voice …whispered…so as to be nearly genderless…. comes from somewhere deeper into the labyrinth of dark red velvet….
I turn to peer down the deep red throat of the hallway…to the dim light beyond…where my history sits waiting for me to discover it fully…
" I don’t know him…we’ve…w-we’ve never met…" I say to the hall…not moving forward.
" You don’t remember Sir Fustian? Well….he remembers you….you used to carry him around on your shoulder like a princess…and sneaked him apple slices when you thought I wasn’t looking…." The voice says.
" I…I think you …and…Sir Fustian…are mistaken…" I say.
Sir Fustian plucks at my tresses and chatters indignantly.
" He says you’ve let your hair grow long…he likes it, but there is no place for him to sit…." The voice says…
I pull my hair over my left shoulder…and Sir Fustian climbs onto my right one and settles himself there. He pats his paws together gleefully and chirps his approval.
" You’re a very regal young monkey…" I say to him…and he gives me a tiny little monkey salute.
I know I am…
" Come here Tara…let’s have a look at you…" The voice says…and I find myself pulled down the hallway…
Sir Fustian props a tiny monkey paw on the top of my ear for balance.
Oddly this slight weight fills me with a touch of nostalgia…of comfort….
You should be frightened right now…
But I am not…I am filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth….
I run my fingers along the curtained walls as I walk…like a little girl had done a thousand times before.
Memories…like shy butterflies…flitter teasingly across the edges of my mind…
Nothing solid…nothing tangible….but I know that even if I closed my eyes at this very moment…I would be able to find my way.
And when I finally find myself in the small rotunda of the Crimson Curtain…and catch sight of my Whisperer….I can’t help but break into a smile……
" My Tara…" The woman seated at the table says…her voice thick with emotion… She raises a smooth hand to beckon me closer.
" Aunt Acacia…" I say….and move forward to greet my mother’s sister…
TBC…
------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 26, 2002).]
by Grimaldi » Tue Mar 26, 2002 3:18 pm
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"I don't care if it is an orgy of death, there's still such a thing as a napkin." Willow, Superstar
"I want my room to be Willow-friendly." Tara, New Moon Rising
"I present to you, the 5 assed monkey"
Vampire is not a career choice
by Pixie » Tue Mar 26, 2002 10:49 pm
BTW, I am at my parents' house now, visiting for Passover, and I brought my laundry (it sucks that I had to sell my washer & dryer when I moved) - I had a hard time keeping my giggles to myself! This is not the time when I want to be having naughty laundry thoughts!
by Sassette » Tue Mar 26, 2002 10:54 pm
Spin Cycle.
-Sass
by Bookcat » Wed Mar 27, 2002 12:14 am
Good, long fic. Nice troll. Need sleep.
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"living for thirty minutes at a time with a break in the middle for adverts" - Elvis Costello, Invisible Man
by Pixie » Wed Mar 27, 2002 12:27 am
quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
I got two words for you, Pixie:Spin Cycle.
-Sass
Sass, you are so bad!!! It's a good thing my parents are asleep right now.
by wiccachica » Thu Mar 28, 2002 9:16 am
Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen: When in This Grace
There must be time to understand….there must be time to think about…all of this…
But still I kneel by her chair…oblivious to all of the signs… And still I grasp her porcelain cool hand in mine and press my cheek against the tops of her slender fingers….
And still I look up into her face…so like my mother’s …so like my own….
You do remember…don’t you….?
I do remember……I remember thinking…so many years before this…. that she and my mother were twins….for most of my young life, I harboured the fantasy that they could finish each other’s sentences…or be mistaken for one another at the drop of a hat…just like in the television shows…
Though my mother was almost three years Aunt Acacia’s junior…and I KNEW this…I still liked to pretend that they were two sides of the same coin…
But it turned out the only thing they did share was a remarkable resemblance…
Where my mother had been talented, shy, and reserved with her abilities…she was also unfathomably loving and kind…
Aunt Acacia had turned out to be Mother’s polar opposite… Brash…and flippant with the magicks…and mildly possessive…vaguely insane…and wholly jealous of everything that her sister possessed…especially her special little girl….the little girl with so much raw natural ability that it waned her own…
Even knowing all of this…I loved her fiercely...
And Aunt Acacia had loved me more than anyone…as much as she knew how to love…
"You look like your mother." Acacia says to me now…stroking my cheek with the back of her hand. I blink back tears and look up again to take in her every last detail.
She hasn’t aged a day…And she still wears that wide red satin ribbon around her throat…and those fitted black dresses…she always wore black dresses….Her honey-blonde hair pulled up away from her shoulders…
As I had gotten a older…I quickly realized that my mother and her sister did not look as much alike as I had first thought…especially not twins….And that my Aunt bore more than a passing resemblance to the 80’s actress, Linda Hamilton. Her features slightly stronger and more defined than my mother’s…or my own…
On occasion..with the tilt of my head or a certain smile…I find I can pull a little bit of Sarah Connor out of my own little expression hat.
But it hadn’t occurred to you until now? Why do you think that is, Tara? What MADE you forget all of this…?
" Come…sit down with me…a while…." She says…and I am lulled by her even voice, and depthless blue-green eyes…
Because this is all a trick…. There is something you have to do for them…something they want from you….
I stand up and walk over to the chair opposite her at the small round table. I place my hands on the warm surface….I gaze down at the symbols on the table before me….they make no sense…just disjunct pictures and shapes…words… in a language I do not recognize…
A fog has invaded my peripheral vision….and the only thing that I can see is the table…and my hands upon its smooth surface...
What does it mean? What does it say?
" We love you, Tara….We want you…to stay here….to…remember for us…." She says gently…motioning lightly to Sir Fustian…who hops down off my shoulder and scampers out of my line of sight.
Love…..love……. Panic surges through my veins…
" Willow!….Where is Willow?" I say groggily…trying to look around…trying to find a way to get out…to find Willow….but I can’t bring myself to move…
…Something is terribly, terribly wrong here….
And there are some things best left forgotten…best left buried deep within….Tara…
" Some things you have to sacrifice…some… people….hold you back from your potential…but they will soon be nothing…." Aunt Acacia croons.
She’s NOT talking about Willow and the others…..She couldn’t be… I fight to have my own thoughts…my own mind…
And I gasp as the pictures on the table move beneath the lacquer…
" That’s right…remember…." Aunt Acacia presses.
" I don’t…want to…" I say defiantly…unable to keep from watch that table churn…and reveal itself to me…..
But you do….Oh Goddess…you do…..
And now there is nothing…nothing except this table…and I have the sudden sinking feeling that I’ve been duped…tricked …by this woman who should love me…
And it wasn’t the first time…
Wasn’t it why we left? Why Momma took her family…and ran away from this…?
Acacia points to a spot on the table…where the words writhe into place…she looks from the table to me… a newfound anxiousness in her eyes….her lips pulled back in anticipation.
I close my eyes….
Sometimes…you used to leave places…you used to just shimmer away…..Momma used to call you her Little Pixie…..and then you forgot….you forgot how to shimmer…. But right now you need it more than ever…before something awful happens….
I strain at the edges of my memory…trying to recall how it is done…how a little girl could go from place to place….how…
But nothing happens….nothing at all….disappointment washes through me….
" Say it…." Acacia demands. I shake my head…my eyes opening on their own accord….I find I HAVE to look at those awful words…the words I know….the words that will…
I shake my head and she doubles her efforts.
"Such pretty words…soft on the tongue….lovely when spoken….such pretty words….just say them…and I’ll let you go…I’ll let you find your Willow and the others…and I’ll let you leave here…because I love you…because you’re FAMILY…" She says.
You heard her…she’ll let you go….all of you….
I look at the first circle of words….
" Promise me you’ll let my friends go…" I say.
" Of course…I promise…." She says…pointing to the words again…..
I look down at them…and they come together for me…and only me…. I take a deep breath….and read…
" Ili se ut Chakna te peli Shelna…"
I call first to the Keeper of the Primary Lock
" Et Shelna pe tagora em ilato sei…."
And the Lock will turn on this night…..
" Et Shelna pe Hanem shen sei….."
And the Lock will find its housing this night…
" Et Gredasim Shelna se vigrestas m’tet…."
And the People of the Lock shall be set free….
" Et Gredasim Shelna pe takleta im’ efetate…"
I look up at my Aunt from across the table…eyes wide….unbelieving…
The ground begins a steady shudder beneath us…and I feel my heart clench….
And the People of the Lock will rule over the Plane of the Living for all time…..
" The first lock alters the reality enough for them to arrive…..It greases the wheels of the bizarre… so to speak…" She says excitedly…..
" This is…wrong…this is…BAD…" I moan…trying to turn my face away from the table…as a little girl did so many years ago when her Momma came to save her…to take her away from this place….
" No…. I won’t do this…." I say, and stand up…but only long enough to stop my upward momentum…
…I am slammed back down into the chair by an unseen force…
" You WILL read the other two circles, Tara" She says… and points down at the table.
And that is when the most horrific sound I have ever heard begins…
TBC…
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"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy
" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz
" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)
[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 28, 2002).]
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