Welcome to Gaia! ::

The character is up to you, like usual.

I'll try to smooth it out a bit in the coming chapters, and in final edits for the coming 3rd novel... I think I might have a few ideas.

Indeed. ^_^

Just send me a link whenever you set it up. Oh yeah, and what about setting? Are Phonie and Syn coming to the human world? Or maybe Narshe summons them on accident and the interview ensues? There could be any number of things...

Ok, if you'd like to use the same thread, that works for me. See you in the villa ^_^.

Sure. That's cool.

On the last chapter.... (25, I think?)

I fundamentally disagree about your "science unifies, art divides" theory, [look at all the art that is purposed to reveal the beauty of togetherness, for instance, or 'social Darwinism', which although is not a true science, sprung from one, saying that, essentially, the strongest survive. In fact, elitism in science is a great ethnocentrism of all time. Look at the Romans, who disdained the barbarians because of their 'uncivilized ways' and lack of social structure, or the later Europeans and their views on Mesoamerica and Africa (central and south, mostly).] but seeing as I can't expect you to rewrite the whole story--or worse, storyline--I'll just accept that.

Apart from that, it's pretty good. Still weird--I guess I'm too used to Cosette's point of view--but...I'm not sure you mastered Archeme's point of view. She always seemed...serious, somehow. I mean, sure, she's playful, but she always seemed as driven as Cosette, in her own way. I don't see that here--it just seems like she's helping out her best buddy, who is, unfortunately, trying to take over the same world as her clock.

But maybe I misread her character: if I have, disregard this last part. As always, grammar and spelling don't seem to be a big problem; go in and double check to make sure I'm not just getting too involved in the story. I'm not too great on the technical side, anyway.

Again, sorry for the delay. In case you didn't get my message, I did try to post on Chorus Line!, but my computer crashed. It sucks. If you want, we could always end it prematurely--I was going to make the rest of it a one on one with Syn, a 'date', if you will, which I think would be ingenious for at least a bit of fun, both for the characters and their respective writers, and would give way to more questions in a more open, relaxed place than a laboratory.

Love and Vale,
-Leavaros

It's okay, I was starting to get worried, though.... Even if you can't get on for long, let us know you're alive every now and then, okay?

And...I could say that I was waiting for you to confirm the date--that is part of the reason for my delay in posting. But...I've also been a little preoccupied over here (and not just LRD, or V&V). Forgive me?
-Andrew

Twenty-Sixth Movement - A Day in the Life...

This chapter is mostly build up for the coming chapters, which will tie up the story threads that start in this chapter.

==============================================

"Hey Cosette! Hey, wake up!" There was a pounding at the princess' door the like of which she had not heard in several years. Archeme's voice called from outside to her. "Narshe is taking us all out for brunch in town! Hurry up and get dressed!"

"Umf." Cosette mumbled lazily, rolling over. "Mrst a mor mimmut..." she spoke, using her pillow as a kind of translator from human speech into dreamland gurgles. Light poured through slits in the drapes like a a white lance cutting into the gloom of Cosette's bedchamber.

There was a murmur of voices outside. As whoever stood without discussed the best way to get Cosette out of her seclusion and into the business of living another day.

Suddenly, a dim glow seemed to appear in the princess's vision. In the darkness behind her closed eyelids, there was a soft voice speaking. "Cosette." It was Nateel's voice, calm, quiet, inviting. So she can speak to me in dreams? That's... not surprising. Cosette rolled over again, her nightgown tangling around her ankles in a scratchy, unpleasant way, but not so unpleasant that the prospect of untangling it and stepping onto the cold villa floor seemed inviting.

"Cosette, I have a message for you." Nateel's voice spoke quietly and calmly. "WAKE UP!!!" Cosette's body lurched forward in surprise, her eyes bolted wide open in shock at the sound of Nateel's yell. It was a sound she hadn't heard in a long time, since the three girls had been wards of Old Jake during the war. During those days, rude awakenings from her cousin had been a disparagingly frequent occurrence.

"Ah, awake at last, princess." Narshe seemed to burst into the room on cue, carrying Cosette's clothes. Without bidding, she began to dress the girl. "My, what a lovely face you have this morning." She tossed a veil over Cosette's head without looking, "that ribbon you've worn all your life, the black silk one?" She paused for Cosette to nod under the veil. "It covers the condition you have. As long as you wear it in your hair, no one will react oddly to your..." she chose her words carefully, "state. Do you remember the command word to untie it?"

"Avilameritti?" Cosette ventured. The ribbon snapped up and tied itself around Narshe's eyes, causing her to lose balance and topple over onto Cosette out of surprise. Thankfully the fall was more humiliating than painful, as Narshe was a well-padded creature.

"Voriscatvi." The vampire growled, and the ribbon slipped off of her face easily, as she stood up and flattened as many wrinkles as she could from Cosette's dress. "It's Voriscatvi. Try to remember."

They bantered on a bit as Cosette finally got fluffed and frilled to the point of presentability. Of course, what passed for the most basic form of presentable in Cosette's mind probably outdid the combined Sunday best of any three Chicago natives. She was continually astounded by how ragged the commoners looked in America. And the working classes out in the streets, walking through the upper-class ends of town!? Unthinkable, really.

Boarding the carriage away from the old Villa were Narshe, Nateel, Archeme, Hallie, and Cosette. A light snow was falling through the air--not enough to add to the snow already blanketing the ground, but enough to make sure that what was already there wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

"Our little family just gets bigger and bigger, doesn't it?" Nateel smiled at Hallie. She looked quite normal and sound of mind this morning--a stark contrast to her pitiful state only a few days ago. Thankfully, that uneasy feeling Cosette seemed to get when something was amiss did not hang in the air around Nateel as it often did. Today would be a good day. A good day with good company.

"Thank... you... for... bringing... me." Hallie spoke quietly and looked down, as though embarrassed to be in such distinguished company.

"Don't mention it!" Narshe smiled. "It's high time you got out into the real world anyway, eh?"

"Yeah, as long as you're sparing lectures about how to find happiness as a woman." Archeme shuddered. "I could lock myself away a lifetime to miss those."

"Yeah... we were way too young, Narshe." Cosette patted Archeme's shoulder. "You've scarred the poor girl for life."

"I could never look at Father the same way again." There was a sniffle. "It's like... I lost something precious that day."

Nateel and Narshe were both laughing. "But I have so much yet to teach, my dear. And with that lithe body of yours... ohh, and the machines listen to you too... why you could--" Narshe's mouth kept moving, but the words stopped coming out.

Cosette lowered a hand, the green glow from a curse of silence was fading from her fingertips. "So it will be a good morning after all."

"I for one didn't think it was bad advice. Why, before I became an ascetic, I spent long ni--" Nateel looked at Cosette's raised hand, shrugged, and then decided it was best to change the subject. "What kinds of things do you like to eat?" she looked over to Hallie. Despite herself, she spoke to the girl more like a dog than a human. Hallie had that effect on people. Narshe, for her part, pouted silently towards the window of the carriage cab.

"I... like... solid... food." Hallie nodded. "In... the orphanage... we mostly... eat... soup." She spoke as if surgically choosing her words.

"Do you know what a parfait is?" Archeme had a hopeful look behind her glasses.

Hallie shook her head to indicate no. Archeme's features became a picture of mortification.

"This... this is a crisis, Cosette. Conjure one, quick!"

The princess sighed, "you just need to get out a bit. Today, we're going to open the world to you, little sister." Cosette's teeth sparkled in the sunlight coming through the carriage windows as she patted Hallie's colorless hair. The girl leaned on her slightly and gave off a smile so radiant that it seemed to light the cab.

They got off near an artsy cafe called Sabatini's and walked inside, like some kind of sorority (which, in fact, they were). The place was small. Just enough for a counter, two booth tables, and a row of other tables along a curving glass storefront that gave an excellent view of the square, provided that you were willing to look at it through the words efaC s'initabaS.

The four younger girls sat down at a table with a good view, and Narshe pulled up one chair from a nearby table to join them.

The five of them chatted the morning away, or at least all but Hallie. She was too awed at having so many friends to say too much. The quality of the food was tongue-tying anyway.

As they were finishing their meal, and Archeme was ordering parfait desserts, Cosette caught the gaze of a familiar figure. "Hey... isn't that..." She trailed off, realizing that no one else would recognize the man in the top hat and black tailcoat reading his paper quietly and smoking a strong cigar in the back of the cafe.

"Hm?" Archeme craned her neck around to see. "A friend of yours?"

"Someone I met awhile back. It's only polite to go and say hello, right?" The princess stood, and Narshe nodded as she turned to speak to the man.

"Ah, Cose'tte." A deep, rich voice bellowed as she approached. "So good t' see ya' once ag'in."

"Likewise, Baron." Cosette courtesied, with a bob of her head. "And what brings you up North?"

"I am a' takin' care o' a little business in 'de city." He smiled, polishing his monocle on his shirt and replacing it. "I assure ya' 'dat it is no'thin too sinista'."

"At your word then." She smiled. "You're always welcome at the villa. It's the least I can do after how you helped us in Haiti."

"Don not men'tin it. 'Ow is you ya' mo'tha?"

"She's well."

"An' 'de angry young lad. 'Ow is 'e?"

"Midland? That's a bit of a story, actually..."

* * * * *

Somewhere in Kuwait...

"What do you want with me!?" Midland struggled against a set of heavy manacles. Remiliss, Babylon's living chemical weapon held him in a strong, constricting grapple, finally releasing him in a heap on the floor of a rather well-decorated room. Tapestries adorned the various walls, and the king-sized bed combined with the ornate chandelier overhead to create an perhaps the most ostentatious display of wealth the boy had ever seen.

"How many times do I have to say it..." Princess Al-Sabah shook her head, eliciting a jingle of gold coins and necklaces. She was so weighed with jewels and precious metals even her smile seemed to ring with gold. "We just want the sword. It's ours--mine really." She shrugged. "But since you and the sword seem to have grown so attached to one another, I've taken you both, just so that there are no snags."

"Where is Marduk? Where is it!? It's mine!" The youth roared standing up, and thrashing about, as he tried to break through the manacles.

"In the treasury, like the rest of my things." She put special emphasis on the "my". Lydia sat back in a high backed chair, watching the pitiful display. "Why don't you sit down, clear your head." It was an order, not a question. With a sigh, Midland at last seated himself on the bed.

"You see," Lydia began, folding her fingers in her lap. "Lord Enlu fought to overthrow the Nightmare Empire with his two brothers, Vult and Gade. Enlu had his magic to guide him, of course, but the two brothers--they had two swords. The one possessed by Gade was the Holy Sword Sacrament, which fell into the hands of an organization Gade founded and which later became the Church.

Vult, the elder brother, was the crown prince of Babylon, and my ancestor. When the Nightmare Empire was finally overthrown, he invited his brother back to create a united Babylonian Empire. And how did Enlu reply? He slew his brother and took Marduk, deciding to set up his own kingdom. When that Renaissance Empire fell, Marduk was lost to history. But you see, it was stolen, and I've rightfully inherited that stolen property." She finished, considering the boy sitting beside her. "You have to agree, collection is more than overdue."

"Finders keepers."

"Such childish logic. Let's just say that I've found you then, and you belong to me as well."

"Put me in the vault with the rest of your things then. We'll see how it works out." Midland glared.

"Ooh, sharp. I like that." Lydia laughed. "I'll leave you here for now, though. Can you be a good boy, or does Remiliss need to keep you company?"

There was no reply.

"Better." She raised an eyebrow, and the smirk was unmistakable, even beneath her veil. "Fetch the sword, Remiliss. We've a tower to raise."

* * * * *

"Kill a chimera?"

"Yes. A rather large one. And there will be a large commission as well, mind you." Malgrave pressed his fingertips together and rested his chin upon them carefully. He seemed preoccupied today. "I've discovered the nature of this 'Remiliss' creature. Since she had a short contact with Hylie, some traces were left on the girl's corpse, which I have secured from Narshe."

Ghaith blinked, wondering if there was more that would be added as explanation. He was sure he had seen Hylie recently enough, and that she did not seem too dead then.

"She got a new body, naturally. Demons do that." Hulbrenth continued. "Anyway, this creature..." his brow furrowed. "Have you ever heard of a Homunculus?"

"You mean like a golem, mi'lord?"

"No, golems are just animate earth. Magic-driven. A Homunculus is different. Well, they should be different. They're not supposed to exist. The biologies conjectured by early alchemists aren't sustainable, you see. Humans consume a great amount of energy, but a Homunculus, in imitating human biology through artificial chemistry would consume much more." The vampire digressed, staring past Ghaith into the space beyond, at a portrait of Lord Enlu hung above the hearth in his room.

"Forgive me, Lord Malgrave, but it's quite beyond me. Can we discuss the job?" Ghaith was sitting with one leg crossed, hands resting in his elbows. Across the desk stacked with notes and diagrams and tons of books, Malgrave started. It was clear that he had been working too hard, and the thoughts were rushing in his head too quickly for his mouth to bother keeping pace. There was a kind of red haze in his eyes, which Ghaith recognized.

"Have you eaten recently, sir?" Ghaith subtly moved a hand to his scimitar, just in case.

"Hmm... There's too much to do." Malgrave blinked once or twice. "I haven't had the time to go hunting, and Narshe can't pick to suit my tastes."

Ghaith waited a second.

The vampire could sense his tension. "You don't have to be afraid of me." Malgrave grinned, showing off two long fangs. He sniffed. "I can't stand the taste of Arabic blood."

Unsure of whether to be relived or insulted, Ghaith released his blade. His expression or readiness to strike did not change. Those were matters of habit by now.

"The job, is to kill this Chimera. It's one of the old battle-chimeras Lord Enlu owned--perhaps the strongest." Hulbrenth opened a book, turning to a marked page. The book slid across the table to Ghaith, who stared down at the description of the thing. There was no picture, but it sounded horrible enough. The majority of the words on the page were 'claws', 'acid', 'dangerous', 'unstable', or collections of nouns and adjectives carrying similar connotations. "This chimera was built from a special reagent, one which will be necessary in the creation of my Homunculus."

"The commission is then...?" Ghaith waited for Malgrave to finish.

"In the currency of this country, ten thousand dollars. You want gold as usual?" The alchemist tested the waters.

"Sir, forgive me, but this is a job for a band of professional monster-hunters. Five thousand might be a suitable payment of trust for each of them."

"How many will you hire?"

"Three others."

"And you require?" Malgrave wasn't in a mood to bargain, he was in a mood to have things done. Ghaith had the upper han today.

"Fifteen apiece, and another fifteen for expenses concerning the ship." The hunter pressed.

"Seventy-five? That's ridiculous." The vampire looked away, his gaze fixing on a set of beakers on another desk.

"If you want a job done right..." Ghaith trailed off. "You know we're the best, and I know the gold is nothing to you."

Malgrave smiled, still not turning his steel gray eyes back to Ghaith. "True...but I can make more and more useful things than gold. How would you like a few years of Bottled Life? Or maybe... a Regenerative?"

Ghaith considered. The bottled life did not concern him, but it would make a gift to his aging mother. A religious woman, though, she wouldn't be one to cling to life. A potion to restore lost limbs and vitals though... he knew someone who would pay quite a price for that...

"I'll consider the Regenerative as five thousand." Ghaith sat back.

"It costs more than that to make, and almost that many days to brew." Malgrave snarled. "Consider it twenty."

"I can't sell it for that."

"Oh, there's a going rate for a immortality?" Malgrave snarled. Didn't he know the price of his potions? Malgrave could get more than twenty thousand easily, but money to an alchemist was a trivial thing. One vial of Regenerative, and the drinker would regrow any lost limb, organ, or tissue. Complete invincibility for a half hour was what it was. A panacea, in every sense.

"Fifteen." Hulbrenth was selling for results, not gold. In such an exchange, value often becomes immaterial.

"Twelve."

"Fine. I'll pay it. Sixty-three and the Regenerative, if you're back in a week with the token. Every day late, I take away half the gold." Malgrave went to a safe in the back of his room, and spun the dial a few times. The cabinet-sized safe clicked open, and revealed shelves of small, wooden boxes. Taking a box the size of a ring-case, the vampire opened it, and looked down at the contents. An oblong glass vial, not the size of a small coin, held a few drops of a shimmering green substance. Immortality. Humans will pay so much for eternal life. He shook his head. If they had it, they'd soon see what a burden it is.

"Fair enough. It leaves time for a few stops along the way."

The case snapped shut, and passed into Ghaith's waiting hand. The hunter opened it an looked at it. He did not need to ask Malgrave to verify the contents. Unlike some employers, at least the vampire could be trusted. "It's completely sealed." Ghaith noted, looking at the vial with no opening.

"The vial slides under your tongue, and you break it in your teeth." Malgrave explained. "It's made such that one can always have it at the ready."

"I see." He slid the potion into his pocket, and stood to leave. At the door, Ghaith stopped for a moment.

"Was there something else?"

"Does the gold double if we get back early?" He asked.

"If you really need more money, just kill the other hunters instead of paying them." Malgrave smiled back. "Then you don't have to rush."

* * * * *

There was a knock at the door to Arrant Young's apartment. This was a strange occasion in and of itself, one one count because Young never made appointments at his home, but on another because he lived in the high-class end of town, where landlords made a point of turning away unexpected guests at the gates. Upon consideration, this may have been the first visitor he had ever had since moving in.

Arrant put out his cigarette and pulled open the door. "Hello?" He seemed unsure of what to expect, which was all the same, since the man outside seemed to have a perfect grasp of what was and was going to happen. He pushed his way in and sat down on Arrant's couch.

"Tis a fin' 'ome you 'av, Mista' Young." The baron set his walking stick aside and flung his top hat expertly at the hat rack. The tip of it caught on the rack, and it spiraled several times before settling atop its new perch.

"Excuse me sir." Arrant was a bit baffled by this kind of affront, and wasn't quite sure what to say. "But... umm..."

"Come an' sit down, man." He pointed with an inclining of his head to the chair opposite Arrant's coffee table. For some reason, the young man obeyed. "Ma' name be Ghede', ya' may know 'o me as 'de Baron Samedi, no?"

Arrant's eyes turned as wide as saucers, and he started to stand, but the Baron was quicker. He reached across the table and rapped Arrant's shins with his heavy walking stick, forcing him to fall back with a yelp. "Don' 'ya go runnin' off fo' ya' notes now. Dis' be me inta'viewin' you."

"Gah." Arrant gritted his teeth. His shins really hurt. "I understand."

"I s'pose ya' know 'bout 'da t'ree dragons o' de Wild, ya?"

"Tree dragons?"

"T'ree dragons." The baron held up three fingers, just to make sure the point got across.

"Cosette seemed to have told me something about that, yes." Arrant nodded nervously. "By the way... Papa Ghede... aren't you the, eh... well... the one who takes people's souls when they... ehem... how to say... die?"

The baron laughed a sinister, roaring laugh, and sat back on the couch. He suddenly became deathly serious. "'De very one."

Arrant's face blanched. The Baron's serious look dropped, and he began laughing again, in a more good natured way. "But 'dat is not why I be 'ere today."

"Oh no?" Arrant tried to show professional interest, but it was masked out by the relief on his features.

"So, concernin' 'de Wild. Ya' see, de normal way is 'dat, at birt', a child be consecrated to 'de dragons, an' 'e become a champion o' 'de Wild."

"I see..."

"Ah, so, ya' already understan' wat it be 'dat you mus' do 'den?"

"Eh... perhaps we've... overlooked something, Baron. Is it Baron? or Ghede? or Papa Ghede?" Speaking a bit always had made Arrant feel a bit better.

"Whateva' ye' like." Baron Samedi took his monocle and placed it upon one of his great brown eyes. "So ya' do not yet know? 'De trut' is, 'de dragon o' 'de seas, Iormungandr, 'e is called, 'as no such champion. 'Dat's why 'e 'as chosen you."

"Wait... what?!" Arrant shook his head. "Sir, are you--"

"O cours' I be sure! Baron Samedi always be sure!" The baron bellowed, silencing Arrant once again. "Now den'. At my 'ouse in Haiti, you partook o' a ritual. An' de' symbol o' Ouroboros was placed upon 'ya body, yes?"

"That's... it's not there now." Arrant gulped. He was telling the truth, the circular mark which had been branded onto his back that night had vanished a day after. He had convinced himself that it was merely imagined in the weeks that followed.

"So, it fades afta' time. But 'de connection be 'dere." The baron explained. "Ye' can call on 'de powa o' 'de dragon if ye wish."

Arrant looked down at his hands, he didn't feel any kind of Eldrich power in them. The only thing he was really feeling now was the throbbing of his shins where the Baron's ash cane had struck them.

"There's not a... well... a manual for any of this, is there?" Arrant made a desperate attempt to cling to something more solid than the mere words of the baron.

"Ah, ye' an de' drag'n 'ave a like-mind, ye' do." Samedi laughed. "Yo' little Empress 'as it in 'er library, she does."

* * * * *

In Babylon...

Lydia stood before a great wasteland, beneath the beating sun, looking out over a vast stretch of desolation impassively. "It was great once, Remiliss. Once, this city ruled the whole world. Babylon--the great triumph of humanity over monsters, the world, and even the gods."

"Something in me remembers." Was the only reply the chemical-driven girl made to this comment. Her pale skin shimmered in the sunlight. Apparently, she was capable of sweating.

"Babylon's greatest treasures were three Black Stones--forged by our own hands. With these treasures, we formed our own God, and attempted to ascend into heaven by our own power." Lydia continued, "The tower, a monument to our struggle for godhood, rests beneath this very earth. One of the stones was formed into that weapon in your hands." Lydia tilted her head to indicate Marduk, the cursed sword Remiliss held. "The second was refined to create another weapon--you." She paused.

Remiliss did not blink or respond. She was, as always, completely nonchalant.

"The last one I keep close on hand." Lydia finished. "With all three together once again, we can restore our tower--and our God, once more." Looking down at the sword in Remiliss's hands, her eyes narrowed. "Enlu made you a demon when you were forged into steel, but do you remember what you once were, Marduk?" In the shimmering metal of the blade, a large red eye opened, blinking once at Lydia before disappearing once more into the sword. "Don't worry. It all comes back."

Princess Al-Sabah took the blade from her servant Remiliss, and placed its blade into the earth. She lifted up her head and fell to her knees, speaking softly. On the rising winds, her voice seemed to carry like a torrent. "I am the heart of man. Encompassing all the passion and ambition of life. The day draws near when mankind shall be as one. United beneath one language, one city, one God. I am the voice of that language. I am the ruler of that city. I am the vessel of that God. Rise, mighty Babylon. Arise, and become for me a dominion over the earth, and a throne above heaven."

As she stood with a sinister glow in her eyes, the ground began to shake.

Wow, you're right. going over this again, I'm finding a ton of typos. I guess that's what happens when you get out of the habit for a few weeks. sweatdrop

The new Chapter of DMO is up on my site, for those following along! Any comments on the chapter are actually more appreciated there than here, but I'll take what I can get *_*

Leav, you wouldn't mind commenting on the actual update posts, would you? I feel like it might inspire more people to give input if someone else started off the discussion.