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[Silver Screen] The Daemon
".....brilliantly flawed creatures, at times stumbling...but finding our way though the endless night." - Ted Naifeh

[Name] Creature
[Age] 2ish
[Gender] Female
[Occupation] Trying to keep Tom out of trouble
[Living at] The Downs
[Hair color] Red fox, with white wings
[Eyecolor] Green
[Abilities] Flight? But otherwise the mysterious lantern she carries, it has no candle but inside is a curious almost hypnotic flickering light.
[Personality] Curmudgen, weary, old before her time.

History: so far, its been spent chasing Tom and trying to scold him, lord know's hes hard to catch.

[Beautiful Monsters] - Friends and aquaintances.

[Roll Credits... - finding Thomas]

The House was silent and utterly serene. Still and unmoving, it appeared innocently enough within the fading daylight, though those who had been within it's grasp prior knew that this was all a false pretense. It's illusions sparked madness and deep down, there was something wicked that made it torment it's visitors with specters and frightful scenes.

Regardless, the night was just beginning, and there was a faint hint of something within the cool air. There was mischief to be wrought, that much was for certain.

The sound of her boot heels made a rich sound against the chill pavement and damp laden chill of the fall air... the smell of the leaves hung tantalizingly dry and just -tasteable- in the evening with the cloud laden suggesting that it might...or might not rain with cat-like winks and whispers.

She brushed Dark-auburn hair back behind her ear in irritation as it fell into her face. it was a loosing battle...it quickly slipped free and shaded down before the lenzes of her glasses.

The movie was a wash...disapointing and leaving her dispondantly uninspired in any right or sence... she needed a good book to read really, but it felt like she didn't have -time- anymore. And yet...here she was having wasited a perfectly good 2 and a half hours on a film. Small wonder she didn't find time to read she thought bitterly.


Still... they had the prettiest houses in this neighborhood...

That faint hint and rain turned into a bright, flare of promise when a bolt of lightening clapped through the sky, sending echoes of booming thunder reverbating through the air. Not but a split second later, rain came pouring down in torrential curtains, making it nearly impossible for one to see farther than a foot or so in front of them.

The closest shelter was The House itself, and with the lights that suddenly flicked on within it's dirt encrusted windows, it radiated a sort of welcoming warmth that was difficult to resist.

Her shriek of displeasure would have done any housecat proud... hair, previously stuborn now plastered to her face, blurred her glasses and crept quite unbidden into her mouth to be spit out with training raindrops as she let out another wail of displeasure.
God why did she -never- have an umbrella?!
"AAUUUGHHHh!!!" She yelled at the sky, finding her vocabulary utterly insufficient to express the disgust at the sudden onset of the hiterto barely hinted rain. Still... no fool she was not standing out in the midst of it to be struck by lightning. Not when there was a dry porch to be had.
She darted towards the poorch splashing through already forming puddles and feeling the rain already soaking through the thick cotton of her jacket and trousers. Oh -lord- she was going to be cold and wet for HOURS. Still...it looked...
it looked like there might be someone home. Perhaps they'd let her call a cab? Lend her a towel to at least sop up some small trace of the damp?
She hopefully imagined some older couple or woman, welcoming and profering some steaming cup of tea to chase off the chills.

The lady, now drenched to the bone, was not met by that welcoming old couple as she had hoped, though the door to the house swung open without a creak and a sudden burst of warmth beckoned her inside. The flickering light seen before from the windows cast shadows about the walls, dancing with rampant merriment as the newest guest to the House was urged inside.

She shook off for a moment on the porch... staring at the door and then back at the rain. There was a certain degree of distrust... fear that she would be scolded or chased off with charges of tresspessing but.
It was wonderful and warm. Inviting like a fire on a winterday.

"HELLO?" She called inside...
"Hello?...you're front door is open... I'm coming inside...just... a littleway! It's cats and dogs out there and I haven't a bumbershoot!"

She put one foot indoor as though fearing that the door itself might swing suddenly shut and try and eat her leg.
That failing, she put the other inside with a squelch that made her wince for the floor and carpets, and glanced around.

The wooden flooring creaked where she stepped, though no other noise could be heard. The faint sound of her tentative footfalls seemed to echo off the walls that seemed quite bare save for peeling wallpaper and scattered antiques. The flickering lights from before seemed to slowly dim before disappearing entirely, leaving the visitor within the doorway in pitch black darkness.

The door did exactly what she had feared moments before -- it slammed shut suddenly with a clap of lightening that lit up the house for a brief, split-second.

Darkness settled heavy upon the surroundings once more before a quiet noise of tick, tick, tick, tick broke through the silence, rapid-fire like film tape on a loop from an old fashioned projector.

"Hello?" She called again, a touch more timidly, the lights dimmed with her hopes of tea and a towel. "Is anybody..." She started to queery of the darkness whenthe door slammed shut. She shreiked and reached for the door handle on instinct bred of a few hundred horror flims.
The echoing crack of lightning that trickled on afterwards in soulless repitition as her heart raced as though trying to keep pace with the rappid ticktickticking that she could only picture as small creatures skittering across long forsaken floorboads.
Though so consistant was it that she could half imagine some homicidal voyere had produced an antiquaded camera and was replaying some previous and forgotten unsolved massacre.

The lighting seemed to suddenly brighten and the noise sounded more like that of a city on a bustling Friday evening. No longer was the lady standing within a simple house to escape the rain. She was now before a box office, though how it was she had come to arrive there was as mysterious as the sudden downpour of rain that had sent her fleeing into the House.

"TICKETS!" bellowed a looming voice, "Laaaaaaaaaaaaast call!"

A figure appeared before the box office, pale and gray scaled as though from some sort of long forgotten film before 'talkies' had taken over the silver screen.

"You!" the man bellowed, "The show is about to start! Best get inside, missy!"

She blinked, her jaw dropping for a moment to see such a thing... turning to look behind her for the door she had just tried so hard to coax open.
I've been hit by lightning... she concluded.
I've been hit by lightning, or a car, and I'm either dying in the road, or on the sidewalk, or something like that. But this, this isn't happening.
She flinched at his bellow though and walked forward almost numb, like a puppet with her strings twitched and pulled by some unseen magician.
"Inside...right..." She mumbled, half tripping over her own tongue trying to form the words when her mouth felt try and thick.

"I've gone mad..." she said to herself. Quite unsure as to a specific cause.

Once inside what appeared to be a movie theater, the light seemed to shift and everything save for the blood red carpet that covered the floor took on the same gray scaled tone as the man from before. A hallway, seemingly endless went on and on and the tick ticking from before seemed to have returned, though now much louder than before.

"What do you think you're doing here?!" demanded a voice from seemingly out of nowhere.

The red of the carpet was like a stain that lingered behind her eyes when she blinked. As true in its color as the imagined wirl of red down the drain in Alfred Hitchock's old film, where, although the film itself had been Black and white, people who left swore that they had seen red blood swirling down the drain in the aftermath.

The voice startled her, turning and stumbling over her own feet in alarm, soaked, chilly and now more than a little frightened.
What was happening!? -WHY- was it happening.

The voice said nothing more though behind the startled lady's back was suddenly the sound of heavy breathing. It was a low, almost growling noise that was not meant to come from that of a human.

Upon turning back around, she would find herself face to face with a beast, though unlike the specter she had met beforehand, this creature was in full Technicolor. Less impressive was the wolf suit the figure was clad in. The zipper, was plainly obvious, and the bristled hair, painfully fake.

The red stains and spots on his hands and muzzle, though, were quite realistic looking despite having the consistency of ketchup.

She Squeeked...almost literally when she turned to find herself face to face with the wolf suit.
"J----usH....G----D!!!! YOU......JERK!!!!" She yelled in a sudden fit of fury that chased hotly on the the heels of her fear.
"YOU....you....HALLOWEEN Isn't till the END of the month you WRETCHED...HORRID... son of a...OOUUHHhhhH!!!!"


Voice modifier...that's what it had to be. Or a tape recorder. This was rediculous. Some Student taking advantage of a wet and rainy night to test the effectiveness of their Spook Show no doubt.
The Grey... it must just be the upolstery, and hidden projectors, yes, that had to be it. Fancy tricks with mirrors and smoke.

A low noise erupted from the creature's chest, it sounded suspiciously like laughter but it was a rough, grating sound that was as abrasive as sandpaper on a squeaky chalk board. The creature in the suit reached with one hand to slowly unzip the suit.

The abomination that stepped, no, oozed out of the suit, was far more frightful than any wolf, fake or imagined, could ever possibly hope to be. Sharp rows of teeth lined it's mouth that seemed to only grin a bright, lipless smile that was held perfectly in place by firmly clenched jaws.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A JERK?!" it all but roared as it darted forward in a strangely fluid movement that belied the beast's twisted and deformed figure.

The beast's victim now only had one option: Run.

Not real not real not real not real
the mantra ran through her head almost as fast as her feet would carry her down the red carpet, the red somehow that much more strikeing, almost magnetic as she bolted away.
Pleaseplease don't let me die, not here not now, not to some monster that shouldn't...no can't exist. But its so real!
Her heart thundering in her ears, just get away, run away as fast as she could, and never, never, NEVER set foot in a strange house again.

The hallway came to a sudden, abrupt end. The creature continued on its way but up above her was a door. It was her only means of escape.

UP!?? Oh god she WAS in a horrorfilm!!!
Though she had little choice but to try and reach it. She prayed to...anyone or anything that would listen to reach that door, to make it away from the creature.
"Ohgodohgodohgod"
Anything available to her, molding, chairs, a table... she used it to try and reach that door and reach what might be a moments safety.

A rickety chair, aged and weathered was her only avenue that would aid her in reaching the door. The creature moved swiftly, though it's movement seemed to slow somewhat as though it were tiring. Regardless, it moved forward steadily, intent on its target.

She climbed the chair...hazarding a foot on the back of it...dry and creaking and she expected ready to break.
Please... just hold on a little longer! I just have to reach...please let me reach.

The door above her swung open, narrowly sending the woman tumbling from the rickety chair. A light could be seen flickering and wavering just as before though with the creature behind her circling ever closer, its warmth and familiarity provided little comfort.

The light did, however, reveal a narrow staircase similar to the sort one might use to ascend into an attic.

She scrambled for the ladder like someone drowing. The cold of her damp clothes replaced by the hot fear and adreniline. If she could just get up there...if she could close the door behind.

A pale hand reached down and grabbed her hand. Dual colored eyes blinked at her in both confusion and curiosity. "... what are you doing climbing up into my room?" The woman looked obviously frazzled, which would be her only reason for helping her the rest of the way into her room, but really? Must she be bothered?

Petra frowned and she folded her arms across her chest. If she were honest with herself, she already knew the answer to that question. The Library was calling to the other woman the way it had countless others.

"Ohmygod...Ohmygod thank you...I mean...I'm sorry!Thethingpleasegod!
O Please god don't let it up here! I thought it was, and then it, the zipper, and!"
She waved climbed franticly up to the room, scrabling for the words to explain, embarised, and terrified all at once.

Petra simply sighed. She really and truly did not appreciate dealing with people by any means. She was a solitary creature and in being such a creature she did not appreciate having that solitude encroached upon for any reason. Regardless, the Library and House both had their whims and while she lived within the building, she was also subject to its moods.

"Come along," she murmured. It was best they get this over with so she could return to her beloved books. She reached for the door that the woman had just entered from despite the look of utter terror that was written across her face.

No monsters were found clawing at the door. No beasts, no red carpets, just a rickety latter that led to an even more destitute staircase. The only beast that lingered within their path was her daemon and though massive and foreboding, Distrust meant the woman that accompanied Petra no harm.

She stard for what seemed an eternity down the ladder, no beast, no black and white scaled world of horrors, fake fur and blood.
But here, a creature, strange and stoney that followed strange girls into the darkness.
"I'm going mad...." she said, barely a whisper. Folding her arms about herself and feeling hot tears run down her cheeks unbidden, embarising, and yet feeling like the stole the warmth out of her. She hugged at her soggy coat, and knowing not what else to do, followed.

"Welcome to the Library," was Petra's only explanation. She had witnessed enough from the shadows the illusions and terror that the place she called home wrought. She didn't see the illusions, per se, but she did witness the aftermath, though she had only once before taken part in what was no doubt to come.

"... do you have a name?" she asked quietly as she walked along, not bothering to look back to ensure that the woman was indeed following her. Even if she didn't, the Library would take her to where she was meant to be eventually by whatever means it took.

"Mine is Petra," she offered as she kept one steady hand on the back of the gargoyle-like beast that followed alongside her every step.

"I um...E....ende... E....everyone c...calls me ende...." She stammered, watching the casual interaction between girl and creature.
"W...what.... I just... It was raining and then..." she stammered.
"I'msorry!" She burst at last like a floodgate. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...and, the door was open and it was raining and....why...why....what's happening? Are you -real?, I don't....I just don't understand"

"I'm real," she answered before pausing as she reached a set of doors. They opened to reveal a rather impressive library of books. Rows upon rows of books. She paused, one heel clicking against the floor smartly as she took a brief moment to take in Ende's rather bedraggled appearance.

"Wait here," she told her as she walked towards the office in the back where the lime-haired man usually stayed. Perhaps she could find a blanket or some sort to help dry the woman off.

Both daemon and young woman disappeared from view, leaving Ende in amidst the sprawling Library. One book, however, stood out among the rest. It's cover was a deep, blood red, almost identical to the carpeting from before only this was made of leather, and not cloth.

It's surface was smooth to the touch, and it's pages were a pristine, untouched white. Engraved on the surface were mysterious looking designs and at the very edge of the book there seemed to be a slight tuft of hair peeking out, brown in color, and animal in nature.

Wait here? Oh god... the floor wasn't going to swollow her now was it? They hadn't just brought her -to- the creature somehow had they?...
But, there was something about books, even on the worst of days that dragged her attention to them. The smell of their antiquity, well fingered spines to fresh uncracked leather waiting to be turned.
Bibliophile, that was the word for it, it meant a lover of books, though it sounded almost obseen.
That bright red cover, so strikeing as though it too were surrounded by a world of half nightmare monochrome. As long as she didn;t brush her jacket against it, surely...surely it would be alright just to....touch it.
It was so soft and smooth under her fingers that she pulled at it slightly almost unthinking. As though this were a real library and not some house of smoke, mirrors and fear.
Animal fur? Curious and soft beneath her fingertips, and the designs, almost made her dizy chasing them with her eyes behind water stained glasses.
What was its title? Who was the author? The stark white of the pages almost looked sharp, the way that the newst books do. Waiting for their payment in return for reading them. A quick and shocking papercut waiting to happen for some reader too entracned in a story to be careful.

Petra returned with a lime green towel in hand that had smilie face designs on it. Truly, it belonged to Pippin. There was no shock written across her face when she found the woman with the book, though a small, barely there smirk did tug at her lips.

She sighed quietly before clearing her throat to get the other woman's attention. "Lay the book on that table. I have something to explain to you," she stated before turning her back on the table and Ende entirely while motioning for her to follow suit.

"Oh! I'm I'm sorry it just...I was..." she stamered and flushed...gratefully accepting the towlel and placing the book carefully on the table.
Why not the shelf? She wondered. Then again, she was soaked still, saturated from the heavy rain, they probably wanted to make sure she hadn't damaged it.

What did she have to explain? Well...maybe the creatures? The set up? Please don't tell anyne this was really a movie set? or...
Really, there must be some sane explination. But still, it all felt too real, like spending your whole life looking out over the ocean, only to find yourself plunged into it/

That faint smirk was still firmly set upon Petra's otherwise delicate, yet stony features. "About that book," she went on as she reached to absently trail her fingertips down one of Distrust's rather impressive horns, "It's... special. It's why you were brought here by the Library."

"But, I wasn't..." She started and glanced back at the book.
"It just started, well, torential down poor and, n...no one brought me I just...the door was open and...."

Her excuses, her reasoning, sounded as flimzy as tissue paper, even to her ears. The inviting lights in an otherwise abandoned house? Black and White Movie men and thearteres? The sound of the ticking tape of a projector that had haunted her like a heartbeat beneath poe's floorboards, and that monster, vanishing when she came...=here=, to this room, only to be drawn to that book. That book and no other, there were hundreds of titles in that room. Normally she;d have been walking the rows to read each title and lightly finger each spine as though greeting an old friend. But only that one, just that one, and she'd been utterly absorbed by it...she still was.

"W, what's...speacial about the book?" She asked at last, surrendering to the madness, or perhaps the truth. Though perhaps here and now, maddness and truth were bedfellows, if not one and the same.

Petra laughed quietly. It was a low, sweet sound, and for a split second that laughter seemed to add warmth to her face and eyes. "Turn and see," was her explanation as her smile faded to simple bemusement.

Perched upon the table with his legs swinging back and forth was a small child. He looked as though he belonged in that movie theater with it's blood red floors and monochrome setting, but instead he sat upon the table with his fox-like companion who's wings ruffled in a sort of impatient huff.

Just beneath the child's hand that rested upon the table was a small slip of paper that read:

"We were beautiful monsters -- the kind this city thrives on, allows to flourish and greedily destroys. A creature such as thi.."

The older Forgotten stood with an unreadable look across her face. This was strange. The child was no mere babe, but seemed to be slightly older -- a toddler at least. It was no wonder, really. The House and Library had been acting strange. It was restless and it's power, particularly that of illusion from what she could gather from Ende's babbling, was growing.

She turned her gaze away from the child and his curious daemon and to the woman at her side. "They were meant for you to care for."


Book now a child... child from a book. That haunting flickering color scheem of whites, greys blacks and reds that semed to pervade his very skin. So much so that she half expected him to open his mouth and have that ticking-clicking sound of of a film real spill forth rather than anything human.

"But...I can't just...how could I explain..." She started to protest. But, just looking at him, the odd red fade to his hair like it were dipped in red wine, it was the same pervacive red of the book cover.

"W, what's his name?" She asked quietly, the pich of her voice dropping with the knowledge that some part of her had already commited herself to eery, unsettling red eyes, rimmed in black.

Petra shrugged as she crossed her arms gingerly across her chest and glanced down towards her own daemon with dual colored eyes. "I do not know. Perhaps.. you should ask him," she offered.

The little boy in question blinked before pushing his glasses a little further up his nose. "Tom."