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 Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 8:53 pm
 This journal is for Fatal Discipline and his pet Lenseilt. For now, only Fatal Discipline may post here. table of contents1.1 Intro 1.2 Lenseilt 1.3 Escher 1.4 Roleplay Links 1.5 Friend Links 1.6 1: The appearance of the orb 1.7 2: The influence of the orb
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 8:59 pm
Lenseilt's Statistics/Information
Name: Lenseilt
Type: Seelie Flower Fae
Stage: Orb
Gender: Male
Appearance: A frosted orb with a visible black rose blossoming within.
Other information TBA.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 9:23 pm
Guardian's Statistics/Information Name: Escher Vane. Gender: Male. Age: 27. Occupation: A shady sort of financier and enforcer. Sexual Orientation: Homosexual. Height: 6'4" Weight: 190 lbs Hair color: Silver. Hair length: Past waist-length. Skin tone: Pale caucasian. Eye color: Magma orange. Distinguishing marks: Missing his right eye. Usually wears an eyepatch to cover this. "Discipline" is tattooed along the underside of his right arm, and "Passion" along the left. A Maori-style semi sleeve, all in blackwork, covers his right shoulder and shoulder blade. Likes: Classic metal, candles, waterfalls and water clocks, children, money, knives, long cool showers. Dislikes: Liars and those who try to cheat him, abuse/neglect, mistakes, sudoku, boy bands, girl bands, spandex hotpants, fast food.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 9:25 pm
(Reserved for roleplay links.)
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 9:26 pm
(Reserved for friends links_
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2008 3:03 pm
1. The appearance of the orb
The way Morrie sat never failed to irritate Escher. She just looked trashy, and he wasn't a fan of trashy. Alternative, yes. Punk, right-o. Visual kei, definitely. Trashy, no. And the only thing that could be said for a girl in a skintight miniskirt sitting with her legs high crossed on her employer's desk was trashy. Especially when the bulge showed unexpectedly between her legs.
"Isn't the point of female impersonation supposed to be the illusion that you're a woman?" he asked dryly. Morrie cast him a disgruntled look, lowered her legs and smoothed down the snakeskin skirt.
"You're blessed with that angle because it's comfortable and you're a friend," she said in a tart tone.
"Really. I thought I was your boss." Escher flipped open the nearest folder, rifling through the paperwork inside. "You gave this guy an extension? You really are a soft touch. You know he won't have the money in three months. He'll spend it on drugs or gambling."
"Maybe." Morrie flipped her long red hair. "And then you'll get a chance to cut out his kidneys or whatever it is that gets you your kicks these days now that Yuki left you. Or maybe people aren't always as low-down dirty as you think."
Escher lifted an eyebrow. The veins on his arms twitched, beneath the deep black scripted lines of matching tattoos. "Bring up Yuki again and you'll be post-op in no time."
She blew him a deep red-stained raspberry. "Don't do me any favors." She opened her mouth to continue speaking, but the strangely melodic noise of something glass or ceramic rolling along the floor caught both their attentions. Escher's hand disappeared into his jacket.
Morrie leaned over, looking at where the object had stopped beside a bookcase, then glanced back up at him and shook her head. She reached out-
"Don't touch it." Escher stood up and stalked over, shoving Morrie unceremoniously back. "Just because it looks harmless, doesn't mean..."
He reached down gingerly, and lifted the object. It was an orb of some sort of glass or crystal, delicately frosted in its hues. In the center, a beautiful black rose could be seen, blooming magnificently.
"It's beautiful," Morrie breathed from behind him, and he almost jumped at the sound of her voice. It was as if, for a moment, he had forgotten where he was.
"Yes, it is." Escher examined the orb carefully for any openings, any strange noises as he turned it. Finding nothing, he slipped it into his pocket and checked the hall. There was no sign of who had set it rolling to them.
"You're keeping it?" Morrie sounded vaguely disappointed.
"Somehow," Escher said sardonically, "I have the feeling whoever sent this into my office didn't intend it for my project coordinator."
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2008 3:42 pm
2. the influence of the orb
That evening, after Morrie left, Escher found the note and package the crystal had arrived in. He had been closing up, methodically checking for anything new or amiss, locking door after door. Whoever left it knew Escher's habits frighteningly well, for the package had been left in a discreet place on the fire escape, which was the way Escher customarily exited the office. It begged the question of how the orb had managed to roll into the office... but that was by far the least pressing of the questions regarding the gift.
When Escher got back to his apartment, he laid a hefty pile of mail, case folders and bills on his lap, the note from the package placed on top. It would make a good break from the monotony of each night's reading work. But as he read, his skin began to feel cold and he found himself devouring each page, feeling something strange creeping along his spine as he did. This person knew everything! Things no one should have known, not even his most trusted confidantes.
The pages told of Yuki, and that was simple enough. He hadn't tried to hide their relationship, and hadn't been able to hide the fiery nature of the breakup. But somehow the sender knew just how shattered Escher's heart had been, something he'd shared with no one. Worse, the sender knew about all the losses and betrayals before Yuki, the endless parade of abandonment. The cracks in his pride, the hole in his being. The letter even spoke of Escher's deepest desires, the dreams he hardly even let himself remember.
After that, he couldn't read case files or correspondence. He dumped the rest of the pile on the table and curled up next to his fireplace. At first he avoided the crystal, but then he found himself rolling it gently in his hands. It was somehow soothing, always cool to the touch. As if merely contacting it cleared his thoughts.
Eventually, he got up and fixed himself an omelet with cheese and scallions, eating it while watching a medley of old horror movies, the orb resting on his stomach as if it were a pet or a lover.
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