JUNE 13, 2019 - Family emergency took a bad turn so had to stay away but now things are finally calming down. Hope to get going again shortly. Thanks for understanding. ~ZEPH
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January 17th Rorye's apartment, Book of Kells 5:30am She'd gotten out of practice, refining each lense to bring the burst of color in the fathomless darkness into focus. It was chilly in the turret room of her upstairs apartments, but the curved glass on the Victorian era window was perfect for the telescope to stare upward at the sky. Early morning, the night was still so deep in the west that she could get an incredible view of the deep violet rip, spatters of stars peeking through. Sensation was always the same as she gazed at it, a deep drawing lust for the depth of color, the wordless whispering at the back of her neck like a lover's breath. It happened every time. It drew her to it, and wasn't sure for the life of her why. Lips pursed to blow across the surface of her hot coffee to cool a bit while she fiddled with the telescope, unfolding her legs from the chair and touching down to the hardwood with bare toes that whispered back to her bedroom to change. Coffee cup clinked on her nightstand after a sip and she pulled off the silky emerald green cami and loose sleep pants that skimmed her calves, tossing them in the corner hamper, carrying the cup into her bathroom and the walk in tile shower. Streams were as hot as she could tolerate. Bruising faded, the sickly pale yellow from impact points still ached, skin and muscle still hard. She tried to knead them out as much as possible during every shower with the heat. It would take a while, especially when the weather was so frigid. Hair was let loose, water slithering over it to ride down painted skin. Palms planted on the wall in front of her, leaning there while the hot water peppered her shoulders. She had to get moving, a significant task to do before Nina came in to open the doors. Other than fixing one of the window panes in the tea house that the extreme cold had cracked. Other than making sure Jesse had the right list of stock to exchange on the shelves. It was the door nobody was allowed to use, past the basement shelter that had been set up after a fucking Were had almost burned down the block. Face lifted to the waterfall, shutting it off and clearing her eyes. Huge white towel was wrapped around her torso and secured, another twisted into her hair. Toothbrush scrubbed white teeth diligently, examining the pale yellow on the side of her neck under her ear where the asshole had been strangling her. Almost gone. Sigh long, rinsing her toothbrush, the soft quirked smile of her lip revealed the good things about that evening were still on her mind. A certain troublemaker and the tattoos he bore. It was because of that, the keys to the massive safe under her shop had been pulled out of another safe in her upstairs apartment over the shop. The things she hid there were that precious, and that dangerous. A terrifying threat to be met with terrifying force. Things she never should have had, but kept regardless for this very reason. She had a feeling she, and he, would need them soon.
St. Patrick's Cathedral Vaults and Catacombs 2-7-22 3am That tiny little thing on those whistles… the plastic… those leather half circles with the tiny piece of metal and a tambour of plastic that you could put on your tongue like a wafer and press to your palate. The high pitched whistle they could squeal was piercing, penetrating through your sinuses like a fire alarm, itching the center of your brain like whipping rain against a window of tissue paper until it popped. It was all he could think, hear, see, feel- that vicious searing sound crescendo through his every sense. Gasp was immediate, the uncontrolled reaction unusual as the world that had spiraled to a pinpoint of focus was broken by some shred of consciousness from somewhere. His hand was on fire, and the dirt floor room was vibrating, fist closing to stave the blood. He snapped the towel from around his neck and swathed it over the flames to extinguish them and muffle the blood that had almost just created something catastrophic. Breath seethed through his teeth at the first look of the split knuckles, then the ancient load bearing beam he’d been hitting. Wood was also spattered with his blood, quickly wiped off as well. His blood was like gasoline. Once he bled, his spark could ignite a firestorm. When his consciousness this time had fallen into seizure and errored, he’d no idea. Meditation was not new to him, physical training and focus were not new to him. Together, was most definitely not new; it was what gave him the intense control he had. This crack was getting bigger, and he was starting to lose longer moments of time. Under recent intense reflection, he had pinpointed it just to before the binding, before he walked into enemy territory of his own free will. His consciousness had bucked even the strongest of cuffs, and ever since then there had been a tiny leak in his brain. Enough to drip over years, testing his patience, his sanity… breaking open a crack that was swiftly destabilizing an already volatile mix of skills and magic. He could see his past so clearly before the Resonance. His hell after. Then numbness as he was a machine, and now. Now was this person he didn’t recognize. He was calculating, and angry. An angel on one shoulder, and a devil on the other. The angel he knew and still loathed, but this devil was seductive and unknown. Now as this person in the deep bowels of the cathedral where even the Vicar didn’t go, he was training again. Why? A deeply thought out plan. Physical training was at the forefront, his specialty was quiet and slick death. He needed to inflict more damage, be able to take more damage. The more damage he took, the crack would split further apart. The more he focused on it, the angrier he became, the angrier he became the more darkness flashed in his field of vision. Somewhere else, something else, and he couldn’t hit hard enough to make it either go away- or find the white rabbit. In the wane electric light of old brick, dirt floors and cement tombs, he just kept hitting, letting the fire flush up from his feet and over his form as his hands fell to his sides and chest heaved before it extinguished. Growl preceded the heels of his hands smacking together and palms thrust forward, the fierce blade of flame from his hands turning almost white as it scorched a brick wall, extinguishing as quickly as his temper tantrum had started. Knees hit the floor and he fell to sit, pushing himself back against the wall with the heels of his Tims. Elbows rested on his knees as he tried to knead the tension out of his skull. It felt like he was splitting apart, and all he wanted was another throat to cut. Or a world to burn.
January 3, 2022 Evening The Book of Kells Occult Shop Lips pursed as she blew out the flame on the Nag Champa stick. The scent was her favorite, it always clung to skin like a sensual swath of warmth... bringing her back to center wherever she was. The smoke curled upward, then spun in a tight coil as she placed it into a gold burner. She lifted tea to her lips, eyes still on the smoke that left her bookshop of the arcane always in a lazy and intoxicating haze. Almost the end of a long day, the regulars in the teashop the next room over were deep into books and late day conversations. She, was on her favorite stool behind the main counter, eyes wandering over the Sky Disc on the wall she'd risked her ass... Alistair's as well, to go retrieve. Her addiction to collecting everything dangerous and powerful hadn't abated, but without her 'partner in crime' the task had been much less fun and a lot more dangerous. Magus had the ability to kick ass. She on the other hand, was just... fast. Enhanced her ass. Lately... she was regretting throwing her hat in with Arma. A lot. The entrepreneur dealt everything to anyone, if they couldn't use it safely that was their business. Arma had kept her straight. Gave her a code to honor. That code hadn't been seen in over a year. Long sigh preceded her rise from the stool, taking her empty tea mug with her as the pillar of Hell's Kitchen went to retrieve another cup. She needed to pay Arma a visit. Soon. Time to sever ties.