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 Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2017 6:30 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2017 6:31 pm
Solo 88: MadnessTW: It was suggested I add this for references to child loss. Scylla hit Madness Level in this ORPScylla's body slowly crumpled until hit the ground, the park's soil scraping bare legs and knees, her arm wrapping around her gut, heaving in gulping breaths of air that felt slick and hot, not cold- the air should be colder at night. Shouldn't be this hot, shouldn't be this agitating, should be sharp, not... oily. Her hands shook and she dug them into her skirt, her face going bloodless under her tanned skin, a ghastly mask with amethyst chips. Her shuddering, ragged inhaled were loud gasps in her own ears, and if she had been in her own mind she might have wondered how they sounded to others. But Scylla was not in her own mind. She was not even sure if she was on the battlefield anymore.
One thing she was... Scylla was on fire. All she could see was the fog, like hazy flames. The monster that was out there was grabbing at her, tucking her under, pulling her to a place where there was none of her left except fear, fire, and fury. There was something in the dark, threatening her- and she was afraid. But why? Why was she afraid? There was no reason to be afraid. The voices had reminded her she was a monster too- she shouldn't be afraid. Over and over she repeated it, her arms wrapping around herself, digging in against the-
Her head lifted, wraith's hands on her cheeks, and she stared into the face of the creature that had spoken. "Destroy them all." it told her, and Scylla shook her head. Her reflections danced in the mirrors around them; blue-black curls bounced and shook, gold glinting in the inky darkness. Shifting inky vines, tentacles in the dark. “Destroy them all,” it told her again, and in the mirror she could see someone else- the speaking girl. The hands on her face turned her to look at the girl, tendrils and vines digging into her, sinking into her skin.
No. No no no no please. Scylla shook her head mutely. She tried to speak, but she couldn't. The hands held her mouth shut, clenched her jaw. All she could do was watch, and stare. She didn't want to. Let me go!but though she struggled, she couldn't get free. She couldn't avoid the slow rage that slid down her spine, spilling through her bones. This wasn't her. But she couldn't stop it.
There was a girl there, in front of her, but she had no reflection; there was a wraith behind her, but Scylla was alone in the mirrors. She could feel the fog and the writhing mass, but there was only Scylla- and then even her very reflection was gone, along with the distracting mirrors. There was only darkness, and the girl. A pixie, with dark skin and hair so blonde it was almost white. Blue eyes. She held the box, wearing patent leather shoes and a dress of sunset- pink, and orange, and blood red. The child lifted the lid, and something came oozing out. Dripping, black and red like inky blood, and with it, the sound of something screaming.
A baby, crying.
“No!” she shrieked it, struggling against the invisible arms holding her, the shriek garbled and mangled as she fought the grip on her face. “Keep the lid closed! Stop!” the madness poured through her, and she struggled through the sharp burst of pain as something made contact, the madness consuming her slowly. The child seemed to teehee, and the voices-
Where is she?La madre sta per morire. Lasciala tenere sua bambina.Where-
Qui, mamma. Guarda la tua bella bambina. Che cosa hai intenzione di nominare lei?
Wh-
The lid lifted, and Jada shrieked, struggling, the cries and blood spilling from the box as the lid came higher and higher. She struggled away from the grip of the Wraith, crawling towards the girl and the box on knees that scraped and bled, dragging herself towards the wails with an animal cry of her own; closer and closer and with every step the box lifted higher and higher. Closer and closer, through fuzzy memories and the stink of blood and burning. Dragging herself through the muck and the pain, through the madness burning her skin, until she was at the child's feet, staring up as the screams filled her ears, oil-slick blood pouring out of the lid and soaking her to her knees as she reached up.
A supplicant.
“Close it, please,” she begged.
The girl leaned down, mouth close to Scylla's own, and she whispered her command a third time. “Mama,” she whispered, and her breath stank of death, "Destroy them all."Che cosa hai intenzione di nominare lei?What was always the last thing in the box? Jada knew her mythology, and even in the growing madness the irony and humor was not lost on her, her laughter bitter and crazed. She reached up, touching the little girl's face with gentleness, and she whispered- “Hope. Hope is the last thing in the box.” She tried to slam her hand down on the box, to make the screaming stop.
Destroy them all.
And then Scylla was lost to the madness.
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Posted: Sat Apr 29, 2017 5:57 pm
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Posted: Sat Apr 29, 2017 5:59 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 30, 2017 5:23 am
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Posted: Sun Apr 30, 2017 12:55 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 30, 2017 12:59 pm
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2017 6:32 pm
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2017 6:58 pm
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Posted: Tue May 02, 2017 3:48 pm
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Posted: Sun May 07, 2017 6:13 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 5:52 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 6:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 6:11 pm
Solo 89: Birthday Gifts!
In the eyes of Giulia and Aidan, there were only a number of days in the year that stood out as Important. Capital-I Important. Giulia and Aidan were international children, after all, but couldn't celebrate all the holidays of all countries they lived in, otherwise there would be, like, forever celebrations.
There was Christmas, of course. Valentine's day. Mother's day and Father's day were difficult ones that were also of great importance- France celebrated Mother's day on the last Sunday in May or the first in June, America and Italy celebrated the second Sunday in May. Father's day? France and the US celebrated on the third Sunday in June, while Italy celebrated on March 19.
Birthdays. They were the last of the capital-I Important days.
Naturally, when the twins were made aware that their ‘father' and his brother were having a birthday on June 11th… neither one of the children could resist the urge to prepare gifts. The week before Father’s Day, and they already had plans for that! It was a tragedy that they would have such a glut of presents close together, but at least it was halfway til Christmas, so they would get more. Enjoyably, the twins were not afraid of doing handmade arts and crafts. They simply enlisted Jada’s help, carefully shaping clay and paint with her guidance, making both men their birthday gifts with the care only six year olds could give. Jada made sure the crafts were as solid as she could- Giulia and Aidan made them pretty.
Two mugs each, one for their family members and one for any guests the men may have over, like Ofie! (Giulia loved Ofie sooooooo much, she hoped she visited Elzo lots and lots. Jada was still in reservation of judgement, though she knew without a doubt that Ofelia had protected Giulia, which made her infinitely more likely to come out in the positive.) One little dish for keys or other such small items was made for each of them, carefully crafted from a quick cast of Giulia and Aidan’s tiny hands. And last, a picture frame for each, complete with thin sheets of protective glass, decorated with childish, handmade flowers, and filled with a sneaky picture of them taken by one of the twins.
The three of them picked out birthday cards for the brothers together- Giulia wanted them to be hand crafted, so they settled on one that could be printed into thick white paper. Taking the one for Elzo, Giulia elected to use crayon, and sprung to work with artless abandon, scribbling his name and her own big and proud across the art. Aidan and Jada used marker for Marlo’s, ensuring they took the time to fill in the lines as best they could, eliminating lines and then Jada was assigned to sign the card (“Neatly, Jada!!!”) for the three of them while Aidan scribbled his name in what little space Giulia had left him.
The last touch for their birthday was to make them a birthday cake. This part had to be planned and scheduled, and Jada made the plan to drop off the twins for lunch Sunday, to enjoy a nice early lunch with their family- Jada would pick them up later for them to spend their night as they wanted. Sunday planned, then Saturday they picked out the recipe and got the necessary ingredients- there would be no store-bought and store-made cake. Marlo wouldn't let them have one for their birthday, Giulia insisted, so this had to be the most nicest, the most bestest cake. Aidan said vanilla cake, so they could color it; Giulia was insisting on chocolate because it tasted yummier. Jada, the tiebreaker, took no side- a two-layer cake it would be.
And once she knew the toppings, there was certainly not going to be any color.
The enterprising trio of definitely-not-chefs topped the two-layered cake in smoothed buttercream icing and crushed oreos, brightly-colored rainbow sprinkles peering up cheerily through the dark, crumbled cookies. Little sugar flowers, at Giulia’s insistence, lined the edges, bright and incredibly obtrusive. Each color of flower had a different flavor- strawberry, almond, rose, lemon, espresso, peanut butter! (Jada had stopped her at six- there had been almost two dozen flavors available and Giulia had wanted to get them all.) The top layer was a rich chocolate, a neutral, thin layer of icing; then was the rainbow layer. Giulia had, after all, gotten her way with the flowers… Aidan would take nothing less than agreement to his idea.
Cake cooled and decorated, tiny ears cleaned and hair neatly brushed out, and then it was time to pile children and cake into the car. (Thank goodness, Jada had been about to …. Do nothing, probably. Giulia wasn’t sure, but Jada had always just sternly glared, before.) The cake was buckled carefully into the front seat, Giulia and Aidan watching attentively the entire drive, squawking at every pause, every imagined, minute shift. And then they didn’t want to carry the cake- they would hold the doors. They wouldn’t let the staff carry the cake, either, in case they- what? Tried to take credit for what Jada was calling a lovely decorating travesty job?
Ever so slowly and carefully, Giulia, Aidan and Jada made their way to the door. Jada had said she was dropping them off, not that she was coming in as a cake-deliverer. Hopefully, they wouldn’t mind her brief invasion to set down the sweet treat and wish them a happy birthday. Giulia and Aidan carefully fit their small kazoos to their lips before knocking, loudly. Jada closed her eyes. Waited. Dreaded the thing she knew was going to happen.
The door opened. Kazoos sounded. Giulia beamed at whoever opened the door, tackling their leg. Jada didn’t open her eyes, her nose scrunched.
Aidan kept blowing the kazoo.
“HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY” Giulia yodeled soulfully, “MAY ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE. HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROM THE THREE OF US TO YOU.”
Aidan kept blowing the kazoo.
Jada was probably going to break the kazoo once she could put the cake down, Giulia reflected. “You can stop blowing now, Aidan,” she hissed to her brother, “the song is over.”
Elzo and Marlo better love this damn cake, Jada mused as she opened her eyes and ungritted her kazoo-clenched teeth to give a sunny smile.
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Posted: Wed Jul 19, 2017 8:55 pm
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