Story time
Jul. 29th, 2004 01:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lykomancerAngela needs something to read/beta. I know she does. So I'll provide for her a little.
The werewolf sat on the edge of the fountain, tucking her coat carefully beneath her so that it did not touch the water, and reached up to shove her glasses back in place on the bridge of her nose. She looked around calmly, surveying the bustling crowds of shoppers walking through the plaza, then checked her watch. She was early, as usual.
She blended into the background of the mallscape-- just one more young middle-class mall-rat waiting, perhaps, for a friend to join her for a movie or a latte-- and she did not have to work hard to keep up the illusion. She was dressed casually with blue jeans that were tattered about the cuffs and a black velveteen t-shirt showing beneath her heavy black trench coat, with scuffed sneakers peeking out from the hem. Her steel-rimmed glasses gave her a bookish, psuedo-intellectual look, and the gray eyes behind them were tip-tilted and alert. The length of her dark hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and peeking through the mop-like tangle of hair from the top of her head were a pair of black-furred squat triangular shaped ears that leaned forward attentively: They were the only visible conspicuous sign of her true nature, and they went unnoticed through the superficial examination of the shoppers that glanced her way.
The werewolf crossed her legs and rested her arms across her knees, watching the people that walked by without giving her a second glance, not even recognizing the monster in their midst, and she suppressed a smile.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
She noticed a small child staring at her at he was dragged by his wrist by rushed and impatient parents, his moist pink mouth hanging open and eyes wide, and they locked gazes momentarily before he was pulled into the swirling crowd. She flicked an ear and sniffed quietly.
Ah...but he knew. She felt little surprise; she'd been recognized by children before. Yes, I am the thing that you fear after the lights have been turned off and you lay curled up in your blankets, alone but for God and your imagination. Yes, I am an immortal shape-shifting monster... You mark me well, child, and remember, so that when you grow up you will know that there are worse things sitting in broad daylight in plain sight of everyone than there are skulking in dark alleys at midnight.
Her smile touched the corners of her lips. And be grateful that you did not run into something more terrible than I.
She was a young werewolf, still bearing the ridged scars across her forearms of the bite wounds that had changed her life-- and had Changed her-- scars that not even her new nature and its regenerating abilities could completely heal, but memories of her previous life, her human life, were fading quickly. The immediacy of her Change and its consequences had pushed everything else aside, destroying her old persona even as it built her up once more, forging her anew in blood-- like the tempering of a fine Damascus sword. She had difficulties remembering what life was like five years ago, when she was human, before she'd met Donovan.
She glanced at her watch again and sighed, swinging her legs impatiently until her heels hit the concrete wall of the fountain. She should have known to bring a book to distract her, or at least her headphones to block out the high-pitched shrieks of packs of teenaged girls, the wails of fussy babies, the laughter of rowdy young men. The busy mall was an assault on her finely-tuned senses, and she let herself fantasize briefly-- but vividly-- about locking everyone in it and burning the place to the ground. She grinned, revealing wickedly sharp predator's teeth normally hidden behind full lips. She wondered what her contact would think of that.
Her nostrils flared at the familiar scent in the artificially-modified air, and her ears swiveled a heartbeat before her head turned, seeking the source of the odor. She didn't see him immediately, but his scent grew stronger, and her tail quivered under the folds of her coat, wanting to wag happily in anticipated greeting. She stood up, brushing her clothing into place.
He moved through the crowd easily, gracefully, and she noticed that, despite what he was, he garnered no more attention than she did, though she wondered if he did something to deflect their awareness of him. Perhaps not, she decided. She had not known what he was either, until she learned to rely on her new, sharper lycanthropic senses.
He was dressed more formally: standard khaki slacks, leather loafers, and a white button down, though his tie hung loose and unknotted around his neck. His black hair, like hers, was pulled back into a simple tail, but his was slicked and tamed; he had the air of a successful fresh-out-of-college professional: not yet stuffy enough for a suit but certainly upper middle-class and Republican, and well on his way to a career that involved owning more than one briefcase. This deceptive appearance never fail to amuse the werewolf, and she shook her head with a wry grin as she stood waiting.
He smiled as he spotted her, a genuine smile that sparkled in his eyes, and he crossed the floor quickly.
"Gabriel," he said warmly, stepping forward her embrace her, and she let him, sliding against his chest.
"Donovan," she responded, her voice deep and with an ironic inflection, "you're running earlier than normal. You were almost on time." She pulled away, one hand lingering against his arm, and peered up at him over the top of her glasses. "Shall we?"
"You're probably hungry." He spoke confidently from years of experience with the needs of her inhumanly swift metabolism.
"No bet." She crossed her arms across her stomach. "People's children were beginning to look tasty. One of these days I'm going to eat someone while waiting around for you."
"Can't have that." Donovan inclined his head. "Come on, let's get some pizza."
Gabriel attacked the pizza with gusto, not minding the hot grease burning the roof of her mouth. She was hungry enough to ignore the momentary pain, and the blisters healed before she swallowed. She tore off another bite, then noticed Donovan watching her with a faintly amused expression. She sucked the dangling strings of cheese into her mouth, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
"So..." She took a pull off her soda. "What's going on? You have a new job for me?"
Donovan toyed with his own drink, his eyes lowered to watch the plastic cup slide on the tabletop. "What makes you think I didn't just want to see you?" His gaze flicked up to look at her, something more than casual curiosity in his gaze
You smell tense and stressed, which would indicate this isn't just a friendly visit. But she didn't give voice to that comment, and instead shrugged lazily. "Call it a hunch..." she smiled. "But it doesn't matter to me; you need no excuse to call me to your side." She picked at the pizza toppings, popping bits into her mouth. "I am, as always, your loyal and faithful servant."
Donovan grunted quietly in assent and folded his arms on the edge of the table.
Gabriel tilted her head toward the ceiling thoughtfully. "You know, I believe that this was predicted years ago by my mother..." She grinned and continued in a shrill falsetto: "If you don't clean up and fly straight, young lady, you're going to get yourself in a lot of trouble, hanging out with a bad crowd." She grinned and took another bite. "I sold my soul to the devil-- I don't think it gets much worse than that."
"You didn't sell anything." Donovan frowned, irritated at her jokes, and she wondered once more what could be bothering him; it took something catastrophic to worry Donovan. "I helped you because you needed it, not because I wanted your immortal soul. And anyway, according to popular belief, you're already damned; why would I waste my time bargaining for something that is already mine?"
"Chill." She held her hands up in the universal gesture of peace. "I was kidding. I'm still my soul-possessor," she smiled at her own pun, "and you know that I serve you because I want to, not out of any obligation." She put her hands down. "But I do owe you a debt of gratitude, Don...you saved my life."
He waved it off. "We've been over this-- you don't owe me any..."
Gabriel cut him off. "Yes, I do. So are you going to tell me what's got you so strung up or and I going to have to pull some fingernails?"
Donovan sighed heavily and ran a hand over his slicked hair, and Gabriel waited patiently as he considered the best way to begin speaking. His face was pinched and tight, and his normally languidly graceful movements were short and jerky. He looked up at her and leaned in across the table as if to impart a secret; her ears pricked up and she leaned in as well, unconsciously imitating him.
"We've found him."
Gabriel sat back against the vinyl seat, startled, the words hitting her like a physical blow. She felt the blood drain from her lips and she blinked in bewilderment. "You...you don't mean...?"
"Yes." Donovan's voice was low and terse.
So soon... she marveled, pressing her ears back flat against her head. I hadn't thought it would be for years... No wonder he's stressed. This changes everything. She occupied herself with her drink, sucking down the syrupy-sweetness as though to wash out a foul taste in her mouth. She set the plastic cup aside and reached out to clasp Donovan's hand on the table, wrapping her strong, callused fingers around his smoother flesh.
"Donovan," she caught his gaze in her own. "Give me my orders and I will obey without hesitation. What do you want me to do?"
He squeezed her hand and nodded, drawing in a shaky breath and regarding her with a forced, but fond, smile. "It's a tall order this time, Gabriel, but I have no one else so well suited to the job and so faithful. I need you to go to him-- to be with him. Go to where he is and guard him, protect him, guide him to an awareness of what he is to become. Do for him what I did for you; serve him as you would me." He paused and pulled her hand up, laying a soft kiss upon the back before releasing it. "I'm counting on you completely, Gabriel. The future is, quite literally, in your hands."
"I understand." She inclined her head in acknowledgement after a brief moment to digest this new command. "Where am I going? What is his name?"
"You will not go alone. You have the next five hours to pack up and prepare, and then your guide will arrive and you will follow him."
"Guide?" She'd always known that she wasn't Donovan's only servant, but she hadn't yet met any of the others; she wondered what kind of individual he would have assigned as her companion on this all-important mission.
"Yes." Donovan nearly groaned the word, rolling his head in his hands "He's called Puck...and he's the last person I would send with you if I had any other choice." He sighed. "But I don't. Not right now...this was bad timing for me."
Gabriel raised a brow in silent inquiry, but he rubbed his temples and shook his head. "You'll see what I mean when you meet him."
Donovan stood up then and touched the top of her head between her wolfish ears. "I repeat myself: You sit at my right-hand, Gabriel; you are my swift-winged messenger, and my presence where I cannot be. I am counting upon you."
Gabriel inhaled sharply at the touch, lifting her head and lowering her ears, faint color infusing her face. She smiled, showing her canine teeth and narrowing her eyes until they closed in an expression of bliss. "You can trust me, lord," she assured him.
"Then go with my blessing and love."
Gabriel felt and heard him move away, leaving her to return to the rest of his work, his scent lingering on the swirl of air in his wake. She raised her hand to her face and laid the back which he had kissed against her cheek for a moment, then stood and left.
She had much to do in the next five hours.
They are discussing the Antichrist, btw. Yay!
The werewolf sat on the edge of the fountain, tucking her coat carefully beneath her so that it did not touch the water, and reached up to shove her glasses back in place on the bridge of her nose. She looked around calmly, surveying the bustling crowds of shoppers walking through the plaza, then checked her watch. She was early, as usual.
She blended into the background of the mallscape-- just one more young middle-class mall-rat waiting, perhaps, for a friend to join her for a movie or a latte-- and she did not have to work hard to keep up the illusion. She was dressed casually with blue jeans that were tattered about the cuffs and a black velveteen t-shirt showing beneath her heavy black trench coat, with scuffed sneakers peeking out from the hem. Her steel-rimmed glasses gave her a bookish, psuedo-intellectual look, and the gray eyes behind them were tip-tilted and alert. The length of her dark hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and peeking through the mop-like tangle of hair from the top of her head were a pair of black-furred squat triangular shaped ears that leaned forward attentively: They were the only visible conspicuous sign of her true nature, and they went unnoticed through the superficial examination of the shoppers that glanced her way.
The werewolf crossed her legs and rested her arms across her knees, watching the people that walked by without giving her a second glance, not even recognizing the monster in their midst, and she suppressed a smile.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
She noticed a small child staring at her at he was dragged by his wrist by rushed and impatient parents, his moist pink mouth hanging open and eyes wide, and they locked gazes momentarily before he was pulled into the swirling crowd. She flicked an ear and sniffed quietly.
Ah...but he knew. She felt little surprise; she'd been recognized by children before. Yes, I am the thing that you fear after the lights have been turned off and you lay curled up in your blankets, alone but for God and your imagination. Yes, I am an immortal shape-shifting monster... You mark me well, child, and remember, so that when you grow up you will know that there are worse things sitting in broad daylight in plain sight of everyone than there are skulking in dark alleys at midnight.
Her smile touched the corners of her lips. And be grateful that you did not run into something more terrible than I.
She was a young werewolf, still bearing the ridged scars across her forearms of the bite wounds that had changed her life-- and had Changed her-- scars that not even her new nature and its regenerating abilities could completely heal, but memories of her previous life, her human life, were fading quickly. The immediacy of her Change and its consequences had pushed everything else aside, destroying her old persona even as it built her up once more, forging her anew in blood-- like the tempering of a fine Damascus sword. She had difficulties remembering what life was like five years ago, when she was human, before she'd met Donovan.
She glanced at her watch again and sighed, swinging her legs impatiently until her heels hit the concrete wall of the fountain. She should have known to bring a book to distract her, or at least her headphones to block out the high-pitched shrieks of packs of teenaged girls, the wails of fussy babies, the laughter of rowdy young men. The busy mall was an assault on her finely-tuned senses, and she let herself fantasize briefly-- but vividly-- about locking everyone in it and burning the place to the ground. She grinned, revealing wickedly sharp predator's teeth normally hidden behind full lips. She wondered what her contact would think of that.
Her nostrils flared at the familiar scent in the artificially-modified air, and her ears swiveled a heartbeat before her head turned, seeking the source of the odor. She didn't see him immediately, but his scent grew stronger, and her tail quivered under the folds of her coat, wanting to wag happily in anticipated greeting. She stood up, brushing her clothing into place.
He moved through the crowd easily, gracefully, and she noticed that, despite what he was, he garnered no more attention than she did, though she wondered if he did something to deflect their awareness of him. Perhaps not, she decided. She had not known what he was either, until she learned to rely on her new, sharper lycanthropic senses.
He was dressed more formally: standard khaki slacks, leather loafers, and a white button down, though his tie hung loose and unknotted around his neck. His black hair, like hers, was pulled back into a simple tail, but his was slicked and tamed; he had the air of a successful fresh-out-of-college professional: not yet stuffy enough for a suit but certainly upper middle-class and Republican, and well on his way to a career that involved owning more than one briefcase. This deceptive appearance never fail to amuse the werewolf, and she shook her head with a wry grin as she stood waiting.
He smiled as he spotted her, a genuine smile that sparkled in his eyes, and he crossed the floor quickly.
"Gabriel," he said warmly, stepping forward her embrace her, and she let him, sliding against his chest.
"Donovan," she responded, her voice deep and with an ironic inflection, "you're running earlier than normal. You were almost on time." She pulled away, one hand lingering against his arm, and peered up at him over the top of her glasses. "Shall we?"
"You're probably hungry." He spoke confidently from years of experience with the needs of her inhumanly swift metabolism.
"No bet." She crossed her arms across her stomach. "People's children were beginning to look tasty. One of these days I'm going to eat someone while waiting around for you."
"Can't have that." Donovan inclined his head. "Come on, let's get some pizza."
Gabriel attacked the pizza with gusto, not minding the hot grease burning the roof of her mouth. She was hungry enough to ignore the momentary pain, and the blisters healed before she swallowed. She tore off another bite, then noticed Donovan watching her with a faintly amused expression. She sucked the dangling strings of cheese into her mouth, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
"So..." She took a pull off her soda. "What's going on? You have a new job for me?"
Donovan toyed with his own drink, his eyes lowered to watch the plastic cup slide on the tabletop. "What makes you think I didn't just want to see you?" His gaze flicked up to look at her, something more than casual curiosity in his gaze
You smell tense and stressed, which would indicate this isn't just a friendly visit. But she didn't give voice to that comment, and instead shrugged lazily. "Call it a hunch..." she smiled. "But it doesn't matter to me; you need no excuse to call me to your side." She picked at the pizza toppings, popping bits into her mouth. "I am, as always, your loyal and faithful servant."
Donovan grunted quietly in assent and folded his arms on the edge of the table.
Gabriel tilted her head toward the ceiling thoughtfully. "You know, I believe that this was predicted years ago by my mother..." She grinned and continued in a shrill falsetto: "If you don't clean up and fly straight, young lady, you're going to get yourself in a lot of trouble, hanging out with a bad crowd." She grinned and took another bite. "I sold my soul to the devil-- I don't think it gets much worse than that."
"You didn't sell anything." Donovan frowned, irritated at her jokes, and she wondered once more what could be bothering him; it took something catastrophic to worry Donovan. "I helped you because you needed it, not because I wanted your immortal soul. And anyway, according to popular belief, you're already damned; why would I waste my time bargaining for something that is already mine?"
"Chill." She held her hands up in the universal gesture of peace. "I was kidding. I'm still my soul-possessor," she smiled at her own pun, "and you know that I serve you because I want to, not out of any obligation." She put her hands down. "But I do owe you a debt of gratitude, Don...you saved my life."
He waved it off. "We've been over this-- you don't owe me any..."
Gabriel cut him off. "Yes, I do. So are you going to tell me what's got you so strung up or and I going to have to pull some fingernails?"
Donovan sighed heavily and ran a hand over his slicked hair, and Gabriel waited patiently as he considered the best way to begin speaking. His face was pinched and tight, and his normally languidly graceful movements were short and jerky. He looked up at her and leaned in across the table as if to impart a secret; her ears pricked up and she leaned in as well, unconsciously imitating him.
"We've found him."
Gabriel sat back against the vinyl seat, startled, the words hitting her like a physical blow. She felt the blood drain from her lips and she blinked in bewilderment. "You...you don't mean...?"
"Yes." Donovan's voice was low and terse.
So soon... she marveled, pressing her ears back flat against her head. I hadn't thought it would be for years... No wonder he's stressed. This changes everything. She occupied herself with her drink, sucking down the syrupy-sweetness as though to wash out a foul taste in her mouth. She set the plastic cup aside and reached out to clasp Donovan's hand on the table, wrapping her strong, callused fingers around his smoother flesh.
"Donovan," she caught his gaze in her own. "Give me my orders and I will obey without hesitation. What do you want me to do?"
He squeezed her hand and nodded, drawing in a shaky breath and regarding her with a forced, but fond, smile. "It's a tall order this time, Gabriel, but I have no one else so well suited to the job and so faithful. I need you to go to him-- to be with him. Go to where he is and guard him, protect him, guide him to an awareness of what he is to become. Do for him what I did for you; serve him as you would me." He paused and pulled her hand up, laying a soft kiss upon the back before releasing it. "I'm counting on you completely, Gabriel. The future is, quite literally, in your hands."
"I understand." She inclined her head in acknowledgement after a brief moment to digest this new command. "Where am I going? What is his name?"
"You will not go alone. You have the next five hours to pack up and prepare, and then your guide will arrive and you will follow him."
"Guide?" She'd always known that she wasn't Donovan's only servant, but she hadn't yet met any of the others; she wondered what kind of individual he would have assigned as her companion on this all-important mission.
"Yes." Donovan nearly groaned the word, rolling his head in his hands "He's called Puck...and he's the last person I would send with you if I had any other choice." He sighed. "But I don't. Not right now...this was bad timing for me."
Gabriel raised a brow in silent inquiry, but he rubbed his temples and shook his head. "You'll see what I mean when you meet him."
Donovan stood up then and touched the top of her head between her wolfish ears. "I repeat myself: You sit at my right-hand, Gabriel; you are my swift-winged messenger, and my presence where I cannot be. I am counting upon you."
Gabriel inhaled sharply at the touch, lifting her head and lowering her ears, faint color infusing her face. She smiled, showing her canine teeth and narrowing her eyes until they closed in an expression of bliss. "You can trust me, lord," she assured him.
"Then go with my blessing and love."
Gabriel felt and heard him move away, leaving her to return to the rest of his work, his scent lingering on the swirl of air in his wake. She raised her hand to her face and laid the back which he had kissed against her cheek for a moment, then stood and left.
She had much to do in the next five hours.
They are discussing the Antichrist, btw. Yay!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 12:04 am (UTC)And why aren't you on IM? ;P And when should I expect to see you tomorrow? *pokes* Waiiii! xD
Please excuse me, I need to go skin an Akuma. D:< Hrmph. Will probably comment more later, just as utterly pointlessly.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 12:11 am (UTC)I'm using Heather and Akia's computer in the dark while everyone else is sleeping around me, and I'm trying to be real quiet and get to sleep at a semi-normal time myself. (Methinks it is not happening.)
Yeah, I'll wander over there today whenever I become functional in the day... like leave here at 10 or 11. I would have been tehre yesterday, but Annie and Marybeth showed up and abducted me for the day. ^_^;;
I have no control over them.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 12:24 am (UTC)Hey, is there any chance I could bum a ride to Wal-Mart off of you and Tom? I haven't been there in literally months, and there are a couple of things that I should pick up >_< Well, that and beer. xD Urgh, I need to check to see if I have any money in my account >_< *babbles*
So, you wanna do the lunch-and-anime thing? How long do I get to abduct you for? And how's your tolerance for awful eighties hair and near-pornographic pants? Not on me, of course. On pretty men.
As I said before. Waiiii!
By the way...
Date: 2004-07-29 12:49 am (UTC)*pause* *evil, holiness-killing grin*
I'm drawing it *^_^*
Excerpt of the moment:
"Great! I'll go write some sexually explicit lyrics about sugar cones."