Part 1: kind of emergency drill
kind of character study: Frank Edwards, Mark Smith
“Suit yourself.” I smiled at Frank and his innocent curiosity. Meme barked and almost gave away his secret. That bark suspiciously sounded like ‘pity’. He didn’t like Frank much, although I had found him in the very same state of despair. Of course, Meme had chosen his animal appearance to match his not-so-human instincts. Maybe they were too similar. Where Frank was hurting himself, Meme was trying to hurt others. Still, they were consumed by the same brand of anger and hate.
Frank looked funny at Meme. He must’ve noticed. Meme smiled sheepishly at me in the hopes of salvation. “Can you imagine, how I found you?” I started down the rabbit hole. After a pause, I decided not to wait for any answers. “I followed the spreading bow wave of death that accompanied you.” Frank spat the sip of beer he just took into the fire. It hissed.
Continue reading “threshold voids & useless gods”
Storycluster: Devil's Peak;
character studies: Mark Smith, Frank Edwards
Mark couldn’t hold up his enigmatic misanthrope act. Today, he let me see his friendly side. The scotch made him chatty and I was nice and cozy in a beer-fog. Perfect match. The late afternoon droned with the noises of the forest’s edge.
The bugs screeched. Meme, the dog, barked from the shore at us. Some campers shouted and scream-laughed somewhere on the side of the lake. Chainsaw noises faded into the distance, and the dark waters of the lake whispered to the purplish hue of the fading daylight. Bah! Took a swig from the bottle. Looked like a nauseating postcard picture. A big cheesy blown kiss from Mother Nature that smacked me right where my heart was. A kiss, like poison ivy rash; itchy, blistering feeling, where I just couldn’t reach. Swollen. Red. A raw spot. My hands shook and with them the fishing pole.
Continue reading “kind of emergency drill”
Part 1 Superstition
Part 2 Names for Blades
– SIN-EATER –
The dirt and the leaves on the trail showed no signs of disturbance. It smelled of balmy firs and two-day-old game trails. The patches of grass and plants stood straight. The path we took was virginal. No wind, no movements, no sounds, besides Frank’s and mine. I almost expected the cicadas to sing, but the forest remained silent. The day lost its fierce heat and power. Even the fir trees froze in the semitransparent shadow of ominous size, stretching above the canopy. It was something heavy and dangerous. Blue, violet, and brown saturated in the shadows but I was the only one to recognize. Light withered faster than I had anticipated. Continue reading “DEVIL’S PEAK (3)”
Part 1 HQ Part 2 Biwako-Ohashi-Bridge Part 3 Rustling in the Dark
Part 4 Moonlight Market
Part 5 Giant Magic Spider
The pub was dark and silent, except for the lit candle sitting between two whiskey glasses shimmering with golden liquid and ice cubes. The counter was dividing the darkness and the mirrored shelves packed with gleaming liquor bottles, jars with herbs and other potions. “Aunty made us welcome drinks?” Lou whispered. I shook my head.
I breathed in the rich scented atmosphere. I recognized honey, beeswax, cold tobacco, leather, lemony and herbal notes, and polished wood. Home! I closed my eyes. This all meant home to me. Home. I opened my eyes. I wasn’t alone. Lou was here with me.”Remember! Nothing is for free. Ever! That’s a test.”
“But. You’re family! Aren’t yo-” I harrumphed, and Lou shut up.
Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (5)”
Part 1 H.Q.
Part 2 Biwako-Ohashi-Bridge
Part 3 Rustling in the Dark
The sight of Lake Biwa had me in a headlock of a peculiar mix of joy and dread. The water surface shimmered with the natural and artificial magic mist, walled in by the lurking whispers in the trees around the shore. It could have been a gust of wind if this wasn’t a sacred place. The darkness of a starless sky moved. It hopped from tree to tree like a curious beast, deciding if the newly arrived people at the lake were prey or toy.
I heard the beating of multiple wings, the rustling of feathers ‘n claws, probably the menacing clicking of beaks. Several pairs of eyes fixed me and Lou. My skin tingled where the gazes touched me. The shadows whispered in a distant language, in their breaths: a distinct lack of innocence.
Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (3)”
Part 1 HQ
Part 2: Biwako-Ohashi-Bridge
Officers: Kuro, Lou Rouxgaroux, Felix Kanagawa
We reached Kyoto by bullet train. Rain clouds made the October afternoon look like an early winter greeting. Two very bored uniforms welcomed us at the platform.
First, their halfhearted attempts to hide their disinterest didn’t rub me the wrong way, but when one of them placed a folded up paper into my outstretched hand expecting a handshake… I wanted to punch them. Who was I kidding, I wanted to punch everybody. Always. It was a note was from Superintendant Yatomi.
“That’s just peachy!” Lou read it over my shoulder.
Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (2)”
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department,
Kuro (BLACK, han'yo),
Lou Rouxgaroux (Lou Wolfwolf, werewolf),
Felix Kanagawa (HAPPY Kanagawa river, river spirit)
Part 1 HQ
Lou sat on the office couch reading his book.
Well… No, he didn’t. He was pretending to read, and he was pretending to sit. Being a werewolf seemingly gave him cat-like abilities to turn into liquid in and on any surface or furniture.
Lou was focused on Felix’s lunch.
How could I tell?
I was eying that lunch too. Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (1)”
A starving human doesn’t need freedom.
SHe craves clean water and healthy food.
A dumb human doesn’t need freedom.
SHe craves guidance and entertainment. Continue reading “what does a human need?”
“I admit, it was a kneejerk reaction,” John shivered. We were both nearly naked and dripping wet. The dive I took into the frozen lake was an accident, and John did his best to rescue me. He had a conscience after all. It was his fault that I broke in, in the first place. So he pulled me out, brought me back to the mansion. The blanket I had on my shoulders started itching. I hoped his itched as well. Continue reading “bruises”
I’ve been reading Pete Walker’s- C-PTSD from Surviving to Thriving, and some of his phrases really hit me. It clicked with me so hard, that I had a lucid dream about it.
As a surviver I try to find new meaning in my life, to listen to my heart more, and care less about others. I slowly un-learn my adaptations, and try not to be on the edge that often. It’s a process, really. Slow paces up the mountain, sometimes sliding back down. Patience. I tell myself, after all It’s been more than two decades of abuse, that can’t go away that easily. Continue reading “C-PTSD progress”