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 Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2017 2:51 pm
Falls the Shadow
Word Count -- 281
Rhona recited Hail Mary’s all the way home, and she didn’t even know why. The litany began anew as Micah’s parents walked back to their car, took their son in their arms, and drove away. It hadn’t stopped since.
Crows wings rested heavily on her shoulders as she walked, hunched and alone, along alleyways and empty streets. Ink-black claws sunk into her flesh with an acrid stinging as toxins flooded her system. She should have been afraid. She should have been hysteric. She should have been many things. But beyond all the things she should have been…
Rhona was tired.
Darkness clung to her vision as she walked, filled with straw and sawdust. The boundaries of her own body were lost on her as she slid through that liminal space she now occupied. Burried but walking. Mourned and in mourning. A shade between worlds, spurred on no by intent, but by obligation. She couldn’t sleep in the graveyard.
But everything seemed darker now, Rhona noted with a mind like dry grass. Like a shadow had fallen and settled over her as she haunted the spaces between.
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee
Ten Hail Mary’s. Twenty Hail Mary’s. Thirty Hail Marys.
The Lord’s Prary.
For thine is the kingdom
For thine is
Life is
For thine is the
Life is long. And Rhona watched it stretch out before her, empty and strange. Where before there had been signposts and goals, there was only dry grass and shattered bottles. She stood at the door to her apartment and sighed.
Because that was the way her world ended.
Not with a bang.
But a whimper.
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Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2017 2:54 pm
Making Use of New Green Thumbs
Word Count -- 879
The first thing Rhona decided to do, besides scavenging the rickety old futon from the corner down the street, was invest in some greenery. What better way to inject life into a home, after all, than to literally inject actual life into it! She had a lovely south-facing window in her living room with a beautiful bay window and bench, and while she had originally wanted to make that into a seating area, she decided that, for now, it was better used as a small garden.
She began simply enough, with a small ivy plant, barely big enough for the smallest pot that they had available. But with that on one side of the bench, the whole thing looked really lopsided. She needed something for the other side of the area, which led to the purchase of a little fern. Just something to balance out the space, she said to herself.
But then the space was too balanced. It was too symmetrical. One plant on one side, and one plant on the other. She had to do something to make it a little more asymmetrical, but still… balanced. So she went out and bought another plant, this time bigger than the fern and the ivy, but still in the same vein. A bright little spider plant. It’s long tendrils dripping down the sides of the pot mimicked the ivy, but offset the fern that she placed it next to. And everything was perfect…
For a time.
But it was too green. Yes, she had wanted plants but… this was too much green. This was all green all the time. She needed some color. Something to pop with the green like a little firework. She settled, eventually, on a little hanging pot with an orchid slipping out of the side. She hung that from the ceiling on the side of the window with the spider plant and the fern, which in turn made her little ivy plant look so lonely and sad. But she didn’t want more green either. Rhona struggled for days about what to put on that side of the window, agonizing over colors and types of flowers until she finally settled on something. A small pile of blue flowers, like a little floral bush. It sat next to the ivy, finally putting the whole space in balance.
But plants were a slippery slope for Rhona, and soon she had heard about potted miniature citrus trees and simply had to have one. She bought a tiny little Meyer lemon tree, far from producing fruit, and placed it on the bench in the middle of the window, where it was sure to get full sun. When she bought it, the sapling looked comical in its massive pot, sized for a full-grown tree instead of brand new growth.
Rhona held her breath when she first purchased it, unsure of how successful this addition to her window garden would be. Lemons were a warm climate fruit, unlikely, the clerk told her, to grow in a region which experiences winter. But it was spring becoming summer and Rhona had to try. So she planted the young tree and waited, watching. This, Rhona felt, was her pride and joy, and two sisters, which would produce limes and clementines, followed it.
After that, it was a landslide of potted succulents, bright flowers, and plants which would one day bare crops, seated both in pots which rested happily on the bench and hung sparkling from the ceiling. It wasn’t until she came home with a little, potted basil plant to pair with her tomatoes that she realized that she had run out of room on her windowsill. Well… this was unfortunate. She even thought about taking the basil plant back until she remembered that the window opened onto a very large, very sturdy, very sunny fire escape. Was this illegal? Rhona wasn’t sure, but she was going to do it anyway.
Within days, the fire escape had become Rhona’s herb garden. She lined up terra cotta pots along the railing, planting every single type of herb that she could ever possibly need or want. Basil, oregano, mint, lemon balm, lavender, thyme, dill, everything. If it grew, and Rhona could throw it into a pot, it was set out on her fire escape. The only space left available was a path from her window down to street level, in case there actually was a fire and people needed to get out.
It became a part of Rhona’s daily ritual to rise, get herself some coffee, and then water her plants. Each one, individually as she talked to it. She had read somewhere that talking to plants helped them grow better. She couldn’t recall if there was any science to back it up. But she felt that it worked, and in the end that was all that mattered. Ad furniture began to filter in – at first stolen from street corners, and then thrifted as Rhona came into some money, and finally purchased new from a small cheap outlet store – it always had to match her greenery. Soft beige so as not to become too loud that it overpowered the plants. They had, after all, been her first friends and she wanted to pay them special tribute.
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Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2017 2:56 pm
Down with the Sickness
Word Count -- 1313
Rhona had originally woken up with a sore throat. No big deal. Sometimes her sinuses drained while she was asleep and when she woke up it was a little prickly. A hot cup of something usually helped soothe the pain and melt away whatever had adhered itself to the back of her throat. And for a moment, the coffee that she sipped while she watered her green babies had helped. Her throat seemed to calm down from whatever was making it hurt and she could swallow without any pain at all.
And then the soreness crept back. It was just a little at first, Rhona figured it was particularly stubborn drainage from the night before. And at first hot tea was sufficient to wash the pain away. With each passing moment, however, it took more and more tea to soothe her throat. Soon she was downing whole cups around what felt like a bed of spikes lining her esophagus.
Stubborn allergies, Rhona decided. So she took a Benadryl and called it a day.
Going about her routine, Rhona ignored obvious signs. Her nose began to run, just slightly. The flowers were blooming. She was unused to the pollen. It was getting harder and harder to swallow. Stubborn drainage. She continued watering her seedlings, ignoring the dryness in her eyes and the scratching in her throat. Allergies. Simple allergies that wouldn’t interfere with her daily routine. So she finished watering her newborn plants, saw to their happiness, and whispered her goodbyes to them before sauntering off to her next task.
Rhona detested doing dishes after dinner, and so nightly they were rinsed and stacked neatly in the sink to be taken care of the next day. After Rhona woke up and watered her plants, she tackled that chore next. It was a system that she had fallen into now that she had been here for some weeks. As the sink filled with hot water, Rhona began to feel a slight twinge in her back. Now that was odd. Probably slept wrong. Except for that no matter how she stood, it didn’t go away. Even when she stood uncomfortably straight, her back still ached. That was odd… she didn’t normally hurt like this… she must have slept wrong the night before. So she took more breaks than normal, spreading her washing over an hour instead of taking one 10 minutes or so. Not a problem.
What was next on her list…? Rhona consulted the dry-erase board in her kitchen with her daily tasks listed in the slots for the days. What day was it? Ah yes, Saturday, which meant that she had to camp out in the laundry room in the basement and wash her clothes. She filled a thermos with hot tea and grabbed a scone from the bag on her counter – she always had a supply of them ready to grab for snacks and the like – and headed down to the basement with her hamper her snacks and a book. It would be nice for her back to sit up against the back of one of the chairs down there too…
The basement of Rhona’s apartment complex was only semi-finished. What that means was that half of the walls were drywalled and there were real light fixtures on the ceiling, but the floor was still naked concrete and it smelled like mold all the time. But it was cool and quiet and suited Rhona just fine. It was another domestic facet of her life that she adored so much. And so, she set up her camp, dragging a folding chair over to the washer and dryer set that she claimed for herself and began her wash.
Rhona wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but when she woke up, it felt like someone had replaced her throat with a brillo pad and fused all of her joints. As she rose to switch her laundry around, she could swear that she heard her knees and back groaning in complaint. Maybe sleeping in a chair wasn’t the bad idea… it had messed her up pretty well, it would seem. The rest of her laundry was a struggle since her body seemed to rebel by slowly declining. By the time Rhona dragged herself and her things back up the steps to her apartment, she was ready to admit that there was something wrong… but she wasn’t ready to admit what that something was just yet. Maybe she could just work through it.
And work through it she did. Rhona pointedly ignored her aching joints, the chill that raced over her skin every now and again, the soreness of her throat, and the dripping mucous from her nose. They were all just allergies and if she took enough medicine, she’d be fine.
She skipped patrolling that night.
When she took her temperature on Sunday morning the thermometer read 103.5. Rhona was now left with no choice but to accept that she was sick and that she had to lay low for the next god only knew how long. And she was not happy about this.
Wakefulness eluded Rhona in the coming days, lingering only long enough for her to execute necessary daily tasks such as eating and drinking. She forced it to stay long enough to water her plants, even if sometimes they didn’t get watered until the evening. While she was asleep, Rhona vascilated between hot and cold, constantly flinging the blankets off of her when she felt the sweat rolling down her back and then huddling back under them when she woke up shivering.
Awake or asleep, however, there was no comfortable way to exist. The pain had settled in her hips, it seemed, and at one point Rhona had the strangest fever dream. In this dream, she reasoned that the pain in her hips was from the bones flattening out and spreading while she was laying on her back. Well, that wouldn’t do, so she moved over on to her side to fix the issue and allow her pelvic bone to fold back into its natural shape. Until the pain came back because, of course, the bones had folded too far over and now needed to be flattened out again. Whenever they got too flat, the pain returned, and Rhona rolled onto her side until the ache returned and she returned to her back to flatten them back out. This cycle went on and on until she finally decided the stuff a pillow under her back to keep her hips at a 45-degree angle so that they didn’t get too flat, but didn’t fold over too much either.
It seemed perfectly reasonable.
At about 3:00 in the morning Thursday morning, Rhona woke up feeling like she was in a hot tub with Satan. Everything was too hot. Even laying on top of her blankets what too ******** hot and there was nothing Rhona could do to stop it. Her still fevered mind kept screaming fire, fire, fire like there was something ablaze in her apartment that was making her so hot. Trouble was that she couldn’t be bothered to rise from her bed. So if she burned, then she burned, and that was it.
She woke fully for the first time in days in the early afternoon that day. Her whole body felt still from inactivity and her mouth felt like someone had shoved cotton balls into it, but she could feel her defenses kicking in to repair whatever damage had been done. A long, hot shower helped her feel more human, and would probably speed up the healing process.
She spent the next few days drinking sage and mint tea to help booster her immune system and fixing the relative disrepair her apartment had fallen into. Slowly, she was feeling more like herself.
She never wanted to be that sick ever again.
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Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2017 2:57 pm
TRIGGER WARNING :: IMPLIED SUICIDE
This solo takes place during the Grand Floral Park DMC ORP In The Grip of Madness
Word Count -- 852
As darkness overtook Acubens’ senses, she worked hard to fight the panic rising in her throat. Don’t scream. Don’t. Scream. Screaming makes you weak. You can’t afford to be weak. Not when there were people here are counting on you. At long last, she swallowed the panic in her throat. She had to be strong.
She had to be strong.
She had…
To be…
“Strong.”
A familiar voice rang behind Acubens, scattering her carefully collected nerves.
“You are strong, Micah.”
“Misha…”
Acubens finally broke the spell that rooted her to the ground and whirled to face her long lost brother, cupping her face in his hands. He just smiled that lazy, placid smile, seeming to stare right through her. Sobs tore through her throat as she tried to move herself to be in the line of Misha’s gaze but he kept shifting it, staring just over her shoulder at all times.
“Misha, look at me,” she begged, trying now to manipulate his head so that he would have no choice but to look at her. No matter how she moved his head, however, his eyes stayed fixed on a distant point behind her. The more she tried to make his gaze meet her’s, the more desperate her sobbing became.
“Misha,” she sobbed against his unmoving shoulder. That was when he finally moved, encasing her in his arms protectively.
“You’ve always been strong, Little Bird.”
As Acubens looked up, Misha finally met her eyes. The sobs turned to relieved laughter as she threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek and the wild curls on the side of his head.
“Strong enough to leave me.”
Acubens stopped mid motion, a chill spilling over her body like someone had just dumped ice water over her head and the bone-chilling sensation permeated her whole being, freezing her heart.
“No I -- ”
“So you didn’t leave me,” Misha asked, eyebrow quirked quizzically, looking around himself as though looking for something.
“No I-I did but I -- ”
Misha sighed, smile melting from his face as he pulled her arms from around his neck.
“Misha no, don’t -- I was trying to protect you. Everything I have ever done, I did to protect you!”
Misha had fallen silent, face blank, eyes back to staring at the point beyond Acubens’ shoulder. He finally turned, walking into the darkness beyond the both of them. Acubens wanted to follow. She wanted to scream after him, beg him to stop and come back. She’d power down. She’d show him who she was. She’d invite him back into her life, even take him to MirrorSpace and see if the Black Mirror would take him. They could be together again.
But something held her.
When Acubens looked down, ugly black tentacle twisted and curled up her legs, looking her in place. They stretched up to her knees, fixing them into a locked position. The harder Acubens struggled against her bonds, the tighter it held on to her. Up and up it crept, fixing her arms to her sides so that all she could do was scream and scream into the dark abyss around her before it finally encapsulated her in it’s inky cocoon.
Velociraptor Endow
The magical claws sliced through Acubens prison, freeing her at long last. She wasted no time breaking into a dead sprint in the direction Misha had walked. Where had he gone? Why had he left her? Why couldn’t he understand that all she ever wanted was to protect him. She couldn’t do that if she had enemies like she did… the less ties he had to Acubens, the better…
Off in the distance loomed a figure, indistinguishable and hovering about a foot and a half in the air. Misha? Faster and faster she ran, trying to reach the levitating figure. It had to be Misha. It had to be. But the faster she ran, the farther and farther the figure retreated. Her lungs burned for reprieve, and though her shoes made no sound on the strange ground beneath her, Acubens’ legs begged for her to stop. She couldn’t.
She couldn’t.
She…
She…
Her legs finally gave out, refusing to go any further for her. She landed on the ground, wickedly rough for it’s smooth appearance. The side of her face and her forearms stung, likely skinned from the landing, but she would worry about that later. Now, she had to get back up. She had to stand and start running. She had to find Misha.
“Little Bird.”
Acubens flipped over, the joy in her eyes, however, quickly replaced with unadulterated horror. Misha hovered before her, swinging gently from a rope fixed around his neck. His skin had lost all color. His eyes had grown cloudy.
Acubens shook her head frantically, body racked by the deadly combination of sorrow and horror. Though her voice had hidden deep within her throat, she mouthed the same word over and over.
Misha.
Misha…
Misha…
There was an audible snap from somewhere in the darkness and Acubens’ voice was released, a soul-wrenching scream crawling out of her throat.
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Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2017 3:00 pm
Warum Schaltest Du Das Licht Aus?
Word Count -- ???
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Posted: Thu Nov 23, 2017 10:19 am
Returning to Aaeth
Word Count -- ???
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Posted: Tue Feb 27, 2018 6:55 am
Escaping Perdition
Word Count -- ???
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Posted: Tue Feb 27, 2018 6:56 am
Screech
WRITTEN BY STRICKENIZED -- NOT FOR REQS
The sound bit through her ears. She heard nothing. Felt nothing but the blood on her fingers. The cacophony brewing in her head screeched and screeched and screeched.
Rhona Lee couldn’t quell it. Hands pressed to ears, head cradled, body coiled up into itself like a dying animal offered no reprieve. Scraping her hands bloody against the ground only forced another mess upon her. Nails bent and broke against unyielding tarmac. Words scraped her throat raw as she fought the sound with her voice. Even at her highest decibels, she felt mute against its impossible volume. She would die of it, she was certain. Her injuries meant nothing against this veritable torture.
For Rhona was not Rhona before, but Acubens of the Dark Mirror. In moments passed, she fought a titan twice — no — thrice her size. She knew impossibilities in other dimensions. She felt love and strife and fear and hate and vehemence and pride and love again. She tasted victory on her lips. She rose to action against a foe so great, a foe that threatened to crush her good half, her better judgment, her best friends and leave the world broken asunder. But those moments transpired beyond the mirror — beyond the reality of her derision. The queen was felled, and her kingdom crumbled. That interstitial dimension knew no further existence to her here. Rhona was Rhona now, and Acubens remained a distant memory. A star too dim and distant to light her path.
The threat she faced now commanded no great presence. It did not tower over her menacingly, nor plead, nor chide her like a child. It did not coo its sympathies. It did not raise its fist in anger.
Rhona knew not who she fought, or where or why or how. She had no strategy against this opponent. No one to stand up for but herself. She knew no audience, she had no one to protect. Here, with her fists in her curls and her breaths flecked with blood, she had no one to fight for.
She tore at her hair and she screeched and screeched and screeched.
The sound never stopped. The harrowing shadow overtaking her grew, past the size of Altea, past the size of the building adjacent her. Eclipsed were the weary sodium lights that watched over her. Blackened were the great strips of brick that climbed up the buildings. She saw wings, feathered and screaming —she saw death on the horizon —
“ … Concussion,” he said. He turned to her then, blurred and abstract against the overbright lights in the ER. The ER? When — “Can you hear me, Ms. Lee? Rhona?”
“Hello?”
“Rhona?”
“Was suchst du?”
The sound bit through her ears. She heard nothing. Felt nothing but the blood on her fingers. The cacophony brewing in her head screeched and screeched and screeched.
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2018 7:47 am
Passage
Word Count -- ???
Song -- Passage by Vienna Teng
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Posted: Mon May 07, 2018 8:44 am
Stark Realizations
Word Count -- 500
Another year had come and gone and Rhona sat in her living room window, her empty apartment behind her. The tea in her hands spread warmth through her palms and reached with steaming fingers up to her face. Clove, cinnamon, and turmeric muddled in the warmth and filled her senses with comfort and yet… Rhona was unsettled. The season always shifted her. Since she became this woman, when the air got cooler and the leaves began to turn, she could feel her spirit growing more distant. Families migrated across the country, people came together against the cold, and warmth became a divine intervention and yet… she found herself… alone.
Rhona pressed her forehead into the chilled glass and watched as her breath fogged the windows as she breathed. In and out. In. And out. The rhythmic action centered her, and she focused on it, swallowing the frozen lump in her throat that threatened to break her. Where did this feeling always come from? She was home, wasn’t she? She had come so far, fought so hard, sacrificed everything. She was with her… her family. Wasn’t she?
The thought that had haunted her since she broke up with Lavender came back to her suddenly, bringing with it the threat of tears that she was working so hard to keep at bay. Slowly, very slowly, feelings and anxieties that had before only been nebulous ideas and impressions began to coalesce into something more tangible. Thoughts with sudden terrifying weight shimmered into existence behind her closed eyes try thought she might to keep them away. She did everything by the Court. For the Court. And she believed in it to a dangerous extent. She corrupted for it. Started a new life for it. Or at least… she thought that she had. As Rhona opened her eyes and gazed around her cold apartment she realized with sudden, terrifying clarity that she had only started a cover. A lie. A place to lie in wait until she could power up again and become… herself.
Without knowing it, she had defined herself by the Court. By Acubens. And forgotten to define herself as Rhona Lee. She had become Eternal Dark Mirror Sailor Acubens who was also Rhona Lee. Not Rhona Lee who was also Eternal Dark Mirror Sailor Acubens. The sudden realization broke her. She hugged her tea to her chest tightly, trying to drain the warmth from it to sooth the bone-chilling cold that shuddered through her. So that was where this feeling came from? The sudden realization that Rhona Lee was… in the end… nothing. And that she had… in the end… very little to show of herself.
Rhona got up suddenly, leaving the steaming mug of tea on the bench by the window. She had to get out. Had to get away from the empty apartment and go… somewhere…
“I have so much work to do,” she muttered, grabbing her tools and making for the church that she would make into her own.
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Posted: Mon May 07, 2018 9:01 am
She Changed her Number
Word Count -- 635
Rhona had been working for days in a row since Lavender left her apartment and changed her number.
She changed her number.
Rhona shoved the crowbar under a rotted out plank of wood and stomped down, flinging the board away from the wall with more force than needed. It broke into pieces once it hit the ground, but Rhona didn’t care. She had bigger things on her mind.
Like what kind of person agreed to start again and then confessed her love? And then ran out when Rhona… when Rhona… when Rhona said nothing. She should have said something. Should have said anything. It probably would have ended the same way, but at least she’d be able to say that she’d done something. Lavender deserved something more than having been ignored… and that’s what Rhona did. She ignored her confession.
Another plank of siding came flying off the side of the church in Rhona’s frustration. And another. And another.
She should have said something.
I can’t love you. Yet. Not right now. Give me time I just spent… so long trying to to love you… you left me once and I tried so hard… not to love you. I can’t. Yet. I can’t. Right now. I want to, god I so want to.
And Rhona had no one to blame but herself. She didn’t say anything. And then she didn’t stop her.
And then Lavender changed her number.
Rhona called it three more times the next day just to make sure she was doing it right. She even typed it in herself just to make sure. Still nothing.
So that was it. That was all. It was over.
Rhona pulled the last planks off of the wall but never heard it hit the ground. The ringing in her ears was too loud. The blood in her veins was moving too fast.
She changed her number.
What was Rhona supposed to do with that? That was such an obvious red light. A cutting of ties. Go no further. Even though Rhona knew where Lavender lived, there would be no use in going to see her. Why trek all that way just to have the door slammed in her face and be made to feel more like a ******** monster.
Still something vile rose in her throat and threatened to steal her voice and her legs. To take her right to Lavender’s door and let loose. Tell Lavender all of the things that she wanted to ever since she walked out of her door. That Rhona wanted to love her so much, but her timing was such ******** s**t and how dare she dance into Rhona’s life and then kill her. That she wanted to try but she didn’t know what Lavender wanted and talking to her was like walking on a minefield because what Rhona would normally say was all wrong. So she lied. She lied and she tried to feed Lavender what she wanted to hear because who would want to hear that their partner was too much like that barbarian general from light years away and eons ago ho crawled off into a corner like an animal to die alone? Who wanted to hear that their partner leapt into war like they breathed? Who wanted to know that their partner didn’t know how to show affection and they needed to be showed.
But Lavender didn’t want to stick around and show her.
She’d rather run away.
So maybe, in that light, Lavender wasn’t a good fit for her, Rhona supposed, looking at the pile of rotted wood off to the side and the huge patches of unsided wall.
Best to leave well enough alone. Best to let her change her number and live out her life.
God knew Rhona had ******** it up enough.
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Posted: Mon May 07, 2018 10:00 am
A Gift from Mirrorspace
Word Count -- 891
Acubens had been carrying around her green crystal almost constantly since she had found it months ago. She knew that it had something to do with those floating islands off in the distance of Mirrorscape, but the only issue what that she didn’t exactly know what they were for. Occasionally when she was exploring the Citadel and wandering around the great open plan of what could only be the common area, she would look up to the white planes like stars and wonder if there was one for her. She could see specs of things being built on several of them so she knew that it was possible, it was just a matter of… readiness? Acubens had never quite felt like she was ready to visit the plane that she knew was waiting up there for her.
But what would make her ready?
Acubens could never quite put her finger on that answer, however hard she might try. It was like when she was trying to say something, and she knew that she knew the word, but the exact sound and shape of it in her mouth eluded her. Of course, this was to her never ended irritation. She wanted nothing more to explore what Mirrorscape had to offer her, but she also knew better than to go against her instincts like that. So she gazed up at the sky of Mirrorscape with longing, wondering when her gut would let her explore that place…
No time to worry about that now, though.
Acubens turned on her heel and stalked from Mirrorscape, through the great golden mirror in the Common Room. She was being pulled somewhere, thought where she did not know. Her feet knew the way, though, and she followed. It wasn’t like she minded the small sojourn through Mirrorspace. Despite all of the bull s**t and curveballs it threw at the Court… it was still home. And she still felt warm and happy whenever she was inside. It was a strange sensation, since so many people found the dimension strange and uncomfortable but… Acubens had always been a bit of an odd bird.
So, in this comfort, Acubens wandered for a long while, meandering in and out of Mirrorspace, just enjoying the quest and trusting her feet. They would take her where she needed to be, just as they had taken her to Leto. Just as they had taken her to Lesath. As they had taken her to Remarque, to Kiuchi, to Crocus, and to everyone and everything else that meant so much to her. They hadn’t lead her astray yet, (even if at times it seemed that they had) and so this trust in her feet allowed her mind to wander just as she did.
It was clear that Mirrorspace was either a byproduct of what happened to Altea or that Altea was a byproduct of Mirrorspace. There was just no denying the similarities. But where Altea’s affliction seemed rather… malignant… Mirrorspace appeared to be more benign.
Most of the time.
So then which came first? Or rather… which truly acted and which was the puppet? The Chaos Seed not rested harmlessly atop of the citadel and there was no way to reaching it (try thought she might despite Remarque’s most fervent pleas not to touch anything at least once Acubens please stop touching things). Maybe that was what had corrupted Altea so much. Touching it. Absorbing it. Feeding it. They weren’t really feeding it, right? All of the energy that they drained as a court went into a different crystal. This thing just seemed to be… floating… not really doing anything. So how bad could it be?
Not that Acubens wasn’t constantly worried that they weren’t all going to end up like Altea. Such had been the source of many nightmares for her. She was doing this to protect her family, even if she was so far from them now. That didn’t me that she couldn’t act. And the idea that what she was doing was actually doing the opposite of helping them… it made her blood run cold.
No. That wasn’t possible. She was doing the right thing. She had to be. She didn’t kill her parent’s daughter for no reason. She didn’t her her brother’s twin for no reason. That can’t have been what happened. If the Chaos Seed did turn Altea into a monster and her home into a ghost, then they would find a way to keep it from doing that a second time. Such was her unfailing and unshakeable faith in what her Court and their cause…
The sound of a tiny bell caught Acubens attention. She turned slightly, wondering what could have been the cause of it… a chime, perhaps? Where might there have been a chime?
Acubens eyes settled on a small crystal, the color on stone rested on the floor of mirrorspace, winking up at her. As soon as Acben registered what she was looking at, the strange sensation of needing to move faded from her legs. So this… was what she was moving toward? Acubens looked up and around, trying to figure out where it had come from…
From mirrorspace...
That was all she needed to know. Acubens scooped up the gem and made a beeline for the common room.
She was ready.
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Posted: Mon May 07, 2018 3:44 pm
Hills and Vallies
Word Count -- 774
Something had called Acubens here, to this mirror. To this place. To this moment. In her hands were the two crystals that she had been given by Mirrorspace, their weight a comfort and an anchor. She turned them over in her hands, inspecting the facets and edges before turning her attention to the mirror on the floor of the citadel she had never explored. Ready to go to a place she had never seen. To build a home she had never dreamed.
The reflective surface of the mirrored floor rippled as she stepped on it, afraid for one moment that she was going to crack the surface. She did not. Instead the ripples turned to waves around her and she sank into the cool clear surface. She fought the natural instinct to struggle against the sensation of it, like quicksand curling up her legs and dragging her under. Up and up the mirror rose, or rather down and down she sank into it. The sensation was not unpleasant, like a cool shower just like how it felt to mirrorwalk. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that when Acubens mirrorwalked, she could halt the process and back out if she needed to. She was in control. This was different. She held her breath for the first time since she’d corrupted as the mirror rose to her chin and finally took her mouth and nostrils.
The exit process was much quicker, and when Acubens opened her eyes again she was situated in the middle of a large, flat disk of what seemed to be white dirt. She kicked at it and watched as clouds of pale dust billowed up before settling back into the land from whence it had risen. In her hands, the crystals had transformed. The green one was budding with life, stems and leaves covering the whole thing. Her grey sister was endlessly shedding dust, and when Acubens pressed on the surface, larger rubble fell from the surface.
Curious…
But now what to do?
Acubens walked from one end to the other, peering over the edges at other islands both above and below her. Some were still blank canvases like hers. Others were in the process of being built on. She saw the beginnings of shelters and facilities. Off in the distance were two islands bigger than all the rest. Leto and Remarque’s most likely. Biggest because of their rank and Acubens could not help but feel a small p***k of jealousy.
Not at their stations, never at their stations. But rather at the size of the canvas that they were given to work with. What would she do with all that land?
Hell, what would she do with all this land?
Acubens turned from the edge and paced back to the center of the disk, turning the gems over and over in her hands. What to do… what… to… do… she tossed the gems from hand to hand, pseudo-juggling as she paced back and forth across the center of the disk wondering what she could do to make this place feel a little more like… home…
Acubens heard something whisper to her. A strange voice, but one that she knew. She called it instinct, but she knew that it had another name. Still, she listened to it and looked down at the gems in her hands. Strange things they were, but she knew that they were connected to this land. This place. Her hands moved without the knowledge or consent of her mind and pressed the crystals together in one fist. Green and grey glitter poured from her fingers and onto the pale dust where it vanishes and for just a moment Acubens wondered if she hadn’t made a huge mistake.
Then came the sound of earth moving. Just a sound at first, and then the motion. Like a tremor before an earthquake just under Acubens’ feet. She braced herself for more, but instead of increasing in severity and splitting the earth beneath her in two, the earth began to rise. Slowly and steadily, ro rose beneath her, lifting her into the air as it did so. When everything settled, Acubens stood on a small hill, about a foot high and six feet around and covered in greenery and flora. It stood out sorely against the white dust of the rest of the Realm, but Acubens couldn’t say that she minded.
So that was how to make changes…
Acubens stood still for a long moment before she left the small rise and bounded for the mirror at the edge of her Realm.
She needed more crystals.
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Posted: Thu May 10, 2018 8:54 am
Feeding Time
The Greatest Show Mini Event
Word Count -- 1027
Rhona wasn't totally sure why or when she had ended up in the animal stables, but there she was. Alois cawed from overhead, hidden somewhere in the dark rafters no doubt planning something. But she was here and in her hand was a feeding bucket so that must have been what she was there to do... right? Something hazy and strange clouded Rhona's mind and it was difficult to tell what, exactly, had transpired to bring her to this place. She must have been tired and was moving on autopilot, not really thinking while she finished up her conversations in the main tent and then wandered over here to... feed the horses...
She would just need to get more sleep.
She shook the confusion form her mind and scooped a healthy serving of oats into the pail to feed the first horse in line (in truth probably more than she should have... but no one was here to tell her no so...). As the disorientation melted from Rhona's mind, she felt more at ease in herself. Yes. Sleep was what she needed. Nevermind that the show was meant to start any minute and she should probably be at the main tent... her act wasn't until the middle of a two-hour show. She had time to feed these wonderful creatures.
The first horse, one of four beautiful white stallions, huffed his approval as he ate his dinner, allowing his nose and face to be stroked adoringly by the woman who was feeding them. In truth, Rhona had always felt more at home around the animals. Something about how sweet and kind they were. No animal ever hurt another animal out of spite or malice. It was only ever a reaction out of fear... and who can really blame them? No, they were the last vestiges of innocence in the world and maybe that was what endeared them to Rhona so greatly. Mischief, perhaps. She had been nudged by the horses and larger animals and fallen over more than once, that was was just because they didn’t understand how large they were and how small she was. It had been all in good fun and Rhona could never hold that against them.
Maybe a good brush would do this big boy some good. Not that he needed it but… it certainly wouldn’t hurt…
Rhona reached up to where the brush was supposed to be and her hand closed around something totally foreign. She couldn’t really register what it was that she was holding for a long moment. A handle of sorts, but the brush didn’t have a handle. The handle was wrapped in leather straps and felt well worn… Rhona pulled the object off of the hook the brush usually hang from and stared.
A… a riding crop?
To the best of her knowledge, the horsemasters didn’t use these… so what was one doing in the stables? And hanging where the brush was supposed to be?
Something slammed into Rhona with a palpable force, stealing her vision from her and forcing her out of her own body.
This isn’t right. You don’t belong here.
Inky black wings enveloped her, stealing her breath and sparking something far more vicious than she had ever known to life in her gut. Something acrid and wildly terrified tore through her, wailing and tearing it’s own voice out while leaving a wildfire in its wake. When she came to again an instant later (though it had felt so much longer) Rhona was left with the lingering feeling that something was terribly terribly wrong. A feeling worse that not belonging, it was a feeling of complete and utter displacement. Like she was in the wrong time, the wrong place… the wrong body.
Rhona looked around for something to anchor herself to. To prove to herself that she wasn’t as utterly out of place as she had thought. Overhead, Alois called out for her once before swooping down to grab at a lock of her hair and then vanish into the darkness overhead. Had that been her sign that everything was alright? She searched the darkness for his shape but found nothing and still the feeling clung to her bones.
Feed the horses… yes… feed the horses.
Cling to your routine Rhona Lee. Cling to your normal. Cling to what you know. She move automatically, removing the feed bag from the stallion’s muzzle and filling it back up to feed the next horse in line. Number two of five brilliant white stallions. He huffed as well and began munching as Rhona reached for another feedbag to feel the other four white horses in the stables. But when she turned the feedbags were gone. She was sure that they were all kept on a hook above the crates of oats… right? She turned back to the stables, eyes wandering down the whole row, a herd of pure white stallions and Rhona knew them all by name. And they were hungry. They needed to be fed.
A reflection of light caught Rhona’s eye… the feedbags? How had they gotten over by the elephants? Carelessly flung after a hurried dinner last night, perhaps? A prank by one of the stable keepers? Not that it mattered, Rhona had found the bags and she needed to feed a whole herd of beautiful ink-black stallions, so she wandered over, still trying to shake the feeling of fundamental wrongness from her skin.
Wait… the reflection had come from right here… hadn’t it? Light playing off of a metal rivet, right? And yet when she approached she saw nothing. Only a proud and docile elephant and her baby. They seemed to smile at Rhona and Rhona smiled back, patting their trunks as they slipped them out from between the bars to greet her.
“Have you seen the feedbags,” she asked them. Both mother and calf remained silent as always.
It didn’t matter… Rhona had a show to put on.
“Alois, let’s go buddy.”
The crow swooped down from the rafters and landed heavily on Rhona’s shoulders. Maybe the show would take the feeling away...
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Posted: Thu May 10, 2018 1:33 pm
Curiouser and Curiouser
Word Count -- 1684
Acubens found herself venturing into Mirrorspace more and more as winter gave way into spring. With her church now wrapping up and the planning for the opening bazzar well under way, her attentions seemed to be turning more and more to the realm again. After all… she did always need a project. Idle hands and all that. Her only hope to keep the devils hands off her wrists was to fill her hands with crystals, she supposed. And fill them she would. She wanted to do so much with that blank slate and ideas swirled and collided in her mind creating a tangled mess that she had to somehow organize. Maybe a bullet journal? Something else?
First thing was to absolutely cover the plane with green.
But to do that, mirrorspace had to decide to spit out another green crystal. And it had been… stingy... lately. She’d been in and out ever since her hunting trip with Logos and besides that green crystal, Acubens had been going through a bit of a dry spell.
“Come on baby,” she muttered, running her hands along the milky surface of the walls around her. “Haven’t I been so good to you? Haven’t I done so much?” Mirrorspace remained, as per usual, passive and silent. Acubens heaved a great sigh, her hand sliding down the wall and returning to her side. It didn’t really matter how much she did for mirrorspace, she had her own standards for her acolytes and she was not telling anyone what those standards were.
Well fine. Acubens would continue to wander around aimlessly for a while longer until she called it quits. She still had a quota to fill and then she had to be in bed early enough to run to the nursery to order bedding plants for landscaping in the morning.
And then she felt an odd pulling sensation. Like someone slipped a hook into her nerves and began tugging. She knew that feeling -- instinct leading her somewhere and she had learned long ago not to ignore the sensation.
Her legs worked without the need of her mind, and once more she was thankful. What did mirrorspace have for her? Was it a crystal? It was about time… thought Acubens tried not to be ungrateful… was it something else? Some other trinket or tidbit of information? Acubens heels clicked on the floors, the sound echoing down the empty hall. It was a reminder of how haunting the space could be, and once again Acubens found herself in awe of it. Was this what might have become of Altea’s kingdom? Was this someone else's kingdom? A patchwork of infinite other kingdoms that had been drained by this place? Would their home be reduced to this if they ever lost their tenuous hold on the place?
Acubens hand landed on a door knob as she was thinking, the easy give wiping away her musing with one motion.
Before her was a room, much like the other rooms Mirrorspace contained. Milk white, ransacked, and flickering in change. Acubens stepped into the room with soft steps and looked around, wondering why she had been drawn to this place. She walked right down the exact center of the room, taking note of the space around her. Behind her the door clicked shut with a gentle sound.
As the sound died away, Acubens was struck with a powerful feeling, like something had fallen out of balance. No. Not fallen. Been forced out of balance. A trap? A trick? Acubens felt her pulse quicken as she turned back to the door only to find… nothing… The door had vanished and all that was left was the wall, impartial and indifferent to Acubens new situation.
Panic had not yet reared its ugly head, so Acubens spent some time glancing around the room. It seemed just like the rest of mirrorspace in it’s disarray, but something still felt off. It wasn’t long, however, until Acubens realized what it was. In the middle of the room was a perfectly round table, with a crystal vase sitting on one end and on the exact opposite end. Bookselves flanked the centerline of the room, each with books in the same exact state of disarray. A chair lay on its side in one corner, and in the mirrored corner an identical chair lay in the exact same fashion. As Acubens looked around she appeared to be in a room which mirrored itself.
A laugh escaped her lips despite herself and she sat down on a rather sturdy looking stool, gazing at it’s twin across the room.
Okay… this was cool but… that didn’t stop the fact that the door had vanished and Acubens had no way to knowing why she had been pulled there. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest here or at least… not at first. Across the room, sitting atop a plush ottoman, was something that should have stuck out right away and yet avoided detection until exactly that moment. A book, bound deep, chocolate brown leather with gold filigree along the edges. It looked like there was a mirror embedded in the cover as well. Now that was curious… everything else Acubens had ever encountered in Mirrorspace had been fickle and monochrome. This appeared to have been left by someone else… but who?
Acubens strode across the room to retrieve the book. Maybe there was a name on the inside cover… nope. As Acubens leafed through the book, each perfectly smooth and white page was unmarred. Huh. Acubens lifted her gaze, tucking the journal under her arm as the plot thickened. Curiouser and curiouser.
Ever more curiouser was the fact that, despite having looked around the room several time, Acubens was also just now noticing a twin to the journal across the room, sitting on the same plush ottoman as it’s sibling had been moments before. Maybe that one had a name…
Except for that when Acubens tried to cross the room this time, she was stopped. Well, alright. No so much stopped as she did collide with a barrier that was now cutting the room exactly in half. She cursed, checking to make sure that there was no blood coming away on her fingers. And s**t, she had dropped the book as well. She retrieved it, checked to make sure none of the pages had been bent, and set it on the table in the center of the room.
Turning her attention back to the barrier, Acubens pressed a hand to its surface. It was cool and smooth, reminding her of a mirror in more ways than one. The only difference seemed to be that while everything else had a reflection… she did not. Even as she puffed her breath onto the surface, trying to see if she could fog the surface, nothing happened. Now that was odd. Just a moment ago, she had been able to cross the room. Sure it had been mirrored but… had this barrier simply let her through until just now? Had there been a time limit or had something triggered it?
Triggered it…
Acubens glanced down at the journal that she had left on the table and visibly jumped. She had placed the journal right next to the crystal vase and now, on the exact opposite side of the table, next to the mirrored image of the vase, sat the reflection of the journal.
Or was it a reflection?
All logic stood to reason that it would have been a mirrored image, and yet… that answer didn’t seem right. Acubens couldn’t explain it but… that wasn’t just a reflection. It couldn’t have been…
But more pressing than that was the fact that it had just teleported from the ottoman to the table so that it could sit exactly opposite the original book. Nothing else had changed in the room.
Acubens attempted to slide her hand across the table, but to no avail. Her hand was blocked by something that she could not see. But then again… that would have been to easy and Mirrorspace liked her children to work for what they had, didn’t she?
So Acubens sighed and stepped away from the center, righting the chair in the corner so that she could take a seat and think about her next move. And once she did that and got comfortable, she noticed that the chair’s reflection in the opposite corner had been set upright, and yet she could not see herself sitting in it. Acubens tipped her head to one side, kicking a picture frame experimentally away from her, watching the reflection as she did so. Nothing… at least not until she turned her gaze away and then back again. The frame’s reflection had followed suit while her attention had been turned.
So the other half of the room truly was only a reflection of sorts?
More experimentation confirmed this theory. Acubens began rummaging around, looking for anything else of interest. When a book was moved, so long as she was not looking at the other side of the room, the reflection shifted to match the change. It didn’t seem to matter how big or small the change was either. Acubens opened a book, the book on the other side was opened. She pushed a bookshelf away from the wall to look behind it, the mirrored shelf moved as well. It was all very interesting but… how did Acubens get that other journal?
Once again, Acubens tried sliding her hand along the table to get to the other side but… nothing. She pushed the journal on her side against the barrier and turned away but when she turned back, the other book was flush and no further.
The alarm on her phone went off, signalling the end of her time in mirrorspace… she watched the journals for a long time before she finally turned towards the mirror in the corner of the room. She’d be back for them, she decided. She had to be. This puzzle was a long way from being solved.
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