#1447

[ My arch nemesis asked me to imagine what Mage's boss forms would be if the story were envisioned as a video game. Here's what I came up with! ]

1 – The Wanderer: A figure clad all in black, the hood of her cloak always drawn up to hide her face. Long black hair streams from the hood. No bladed weapons or jewelry save for a single silver ring on one finger. Carries a wooden staff topped with a clear crystal crescent moon. Solely uses far-range magic attacks, combo elemental spells involving wind, earth, ice, and lightning. Battle takes place in a frozen wasteland.

2 – Darkelvenmage: The Wanderer unhooded. Same outfit, though now you can see her face. Still solely magic-based, though the attacks are both long-range and close-range. Uses speed to close quickly and then back away, much like a game of cat and mouse. Circles patiently until an opportunity presents itself. Battle takes place in a fae forest which responds to her spells.

3 – Mage: The first incarnation with hair shorn at the chin. No cloak now, and her dress is more casual; black pants and corset, bare arms and neck decorated with silver jewelry. She uses a combination of magic and blade attacks, which have become more playful and impulsive. Battle takes place on a Sanctuary Island training ground. Is the battle serious, or just practice? Are the combatants friends or enemies? Hard to tell.

4 – The Dark Lady: Captain Mage; she wears a tattered black captain’s coat instead of the cloak, and carries a long rapier on her belt. Her ears, neck, and arms are covered in silver jewelry and charms. Some light body armor. Battle takes place on the deck of the Jolly Roger, which bucks in perpetual storm and over which waves frequently crash. Uses spells to summon monsters from the deep, as well as to increase the severity of the storm and control the thrashing of the ship to her advantage. Closes in with the rapier or hidden blade for final blows.

[ The name is a reference to the song The Dark Lady. ]

5 – The Trickster: Beast form. Mage assumes the form of a giant fox-like creature reminiscent of the kitsune, lithe and many tailed. Uses speed and agility attacks, as well as dealing damage with teeth and claws. Moves in shadows to hide her location, darting out to attack. Can also send out shadow forms as distractions. Battle takes place in the dream world, where nothing is as it seems.

6 – Shatterpan: The Mage we know best. Her outfit carries over from The Dark Lady, though now she wears a ragged cloak instead of the coat and more body armor. Uses the Hook to call down lightning and also as a close-range physical weapon for slashing/stabbing techniques. Also does double attacks using the Hook and another bladed weapon (either sword, dagger, or stiletto). Can call down darkness to partially veil the battlefield. Battle takes place on the shores of Sanctuary Island, pre breaking of the light.

7 – The Exile Queen: Final form. The original cloak and hood are back, veiling her features completely; it looks as if she is made of the shroud and nothing more. The cloak is made out of shadowstuff, which ripples and extends unnaturally across the battlefield, causing mild damage if touched. Uses control over the moon and stars to completely black out the playing field, attacking in the darkness with razor sharp claws (once the Hook) and magic. Battle takes place in the ruins of the Sanctuary lighthouse.

Mini Boss 1 – Tanim: Uses a single handgun. Main attributes are strength and firepower. Possible final form as The Sun.

Mini Boss 2 – Daren: Uses only bladed weapons, favoring small hidden blades. Main attributes are speed and agility. Possible final form as The Moon, or The Angel of Death.

Bonus Battlefield: The Starship Jolly Roger.

#1446

So here we meet again, my friend
looks like we’ve got a score to settle
since you’re always talking up your game -
come on, let’s test your mettle

I know you think you’re hot shit
but you’re room temperature at best
a special little snowflake? nope -
you’ll melt like all the rest

You’re getting pretty cocky
with all your buddies gathered ’round
bitch, this ain’t even my final form -
I’ll beat your asses to the ground

They’ve told you that you’ll triumph
’cause good always has to win
but this isn’t Disney, princess -
you better contact next of kin

#1441

If you want me, oh summer king, oh golden lord, then come and seek me; cast off your heavy silks, your rings of amber and tigers eye, and go slumming in the dark places; I am waiting for you in those cold depths, crowned in funereal ashes and buried in shadow, exhaling smoke with every deathslumber breath; take my cold hand, brother, if you do not fear the grave, and draw me out of this purgatory; resurrect your winter lord.

#1439

Dear Tanim and Daren,

Yeah. Hi. Remember me? Your faithful, humble scribe? The one who’s devoted her entire existence to chronicling your endless, messed up lives? The one who’s been available to you 24/7/365 for the past twelve years?

Right. That one. Good. Now that I’ve jogged your memory a bit, I just have a quick question for you both…

What. The fuck. Is going on here?

Seriously. Virtually no contact for, what, two months now? Three? What exactly have you been up to in that time? Are you on a fucking vacation or something and just happened to forget to leave a note? I’m not running a shitty poetry blog here; you have to give me something to work with so I can stop vomiting out bad haiku. That’s the deal, isn’t it? You do your thing, fuck or fight or whine, I don’t really care, and I write it all down. That’s the deal.

Let me be straight with you: It is way too fucking hot for you bitchy motherfuckers to go full on radio silence on me. I know it’s always angsty-rain-clouds where you are, but over here we’re having what you call a god dammed heat wave and I am way. too. hot. to keep playing nice.

So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get your shit together and start giving me something to write or I swear to every god in the multiverse that I will straight up unleash the insane pirate elf on you. Don’t make me get Mage involved; you know that bitch is just itching for a fight. So do the right thing and nobody gets hurt any more than they respectively enjoy being hurt.

Finally, in closing:

Love,

The Scribe

#1438

Summer nights like this, hot and dead, my legs recall the endless circles paced along well worn paths, between brick buildings and silent chapels, dormitory windows slid wide to catch a nonexistent breeze. Sleepless nights like this, my legs itch to run but you are sleeping fitfully beside me and I no longer need to go seeking in the dark, headphones blaring Eisley and Imogen Heap, Sixpence None the Richer urging me onward another loop in the endless quest for something which couldn’t possibly be real yet lays at my side now, a lifetime later. I sought you for so long that on these stifling nights my body still falls into the familiar rhythm, the need to pace, to pine, to be unsettled and unfulfilled, the impulse almost overwhelming until I turn over and brush my hand across your bare skin to feel your warmth and life beneath my touch, the proof of our reality; the proof we no longer need to wander in lonely circles on restless nights and return, exhausted, to empty beds – our seeking is over.

#1437

[ A small sampling of the songs that remind me strongly of Tanim, Daren, and Mage. ]

Tanim:

Battle for the Sun – Placebo
Run to You – Pentatonix
Protoge Moi – Placebo
Gold Guns Girls – Metric
Lost in the Shadows – The Lost Boys
I Will Follow You Into the Dark – Deathcab for Cutie
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) – The Eurythmics
Every You Every Me – Placebo
Say Something – A Great Big World
Love Me Broughte – The Medieval Baebes

Daren:

Broken Promise – Placebo
Cold (But I’m Still Here) – Evans Blue
Lonely Ghosts – O+S
Mykonos – Fleet Foxes
Running Up That Hill – Placebo
The World – Yuki Kajiura
The Pit – Silversun Pickups
To Be Alone With You – Sufjan Stevens
The Bitter End – Placebo
Dirty Knife – Neko Case

Mage:

Dead Men Tell No Tales – Muppet Treasure Island
Brand New Day – Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog
Bedlam Boys – traditional
Radioactive – Imagine Dragons
Hysteria – Muse
Inner Universe – Ghost in the Shell
Resident Evil Main Theme – Rob Zombie
Team – Lorde
Love Song – Snake River Conspiracy
Exile – Enya

#1431

Tanim’s hands shake as he wedges the knife blade beneath the edge of the capsule’s seal. He draws in a slow, steadying breath before working the blade back and forth enough to slide one half of the capsule free, and a teaspoon of white powder rains down to join the contents of the other pills already emptied into the steaming cup of tea. A swirl of the spoon dissolves the powder, leaving nothing behind to betray any hint of the drink’s addition. Cup in hand, he pushes open the bedroom door and moves through the warm gloom to sit at the edge of the bed. Its occupant doesn’t stir at the motion, nor the light streaming in from the hallway. Only Tanim’s hand shaking his shoulder with a murmured, “Daren, darling, wake up,” draws him from an exhausted sleep. Glassy eyes deep within sunken sockets roll up to meet Tanim’s and Daren wets dry, cracked lips before rasping, “Morning. I think.”

“Something like that,” Tanim smiles weakly, grateful his face is half hidden in shadow. He’s never been able to lie to Daren, even when absolutely necessary. He holds out the cup of tea and urges, “You should drink something, love.” Daren frowns, staring at the proffered drink as if not immediately comprehending his lover’s words. Then he shakes his head, a minute gesture of dismissal while muttering, “You know I can’t keep anything down.” Nor has he for days now, the older man knows all too well. Still… “Please,” Tanim pleads, the word barely a breath, so desperate is he to keep any note of worry or guilt from his voice. “Just one cup. For me?”

Daren’s frown deepens and his eyes narrow, bright and focused now, searching Tanim’s gaze for a silent moment. Whatever he reads there must decide him; he levers himself up to a sitting position, a soft hiss his only acknowledgment of the pain even simple movement causes, and reaches out one skeletal hand. “For you.” He brings the cup to his lips, meeting Tanim’s eyes once more over its trembling rim as if in challenge – or submission – then downs the contents in one swallow.

Tanim catches his companion as Daren slumps forward, the cup clattering from limp fingers.

#1429 – Summer Solstice

high above the city, the world, if it must be done then just let it be done spoken with a weary sigh to the chill night, silent night, one way or another, what does it matter? holiest night and the sun long set, where is the sun? by my hand or his, blood or bruises, or just one simple step off this edge no sun, just the darkness and the wind tugging at hair, fingers, clothing like a lover’s supplication but I don’t want simple, not this time gentle yet insistent, urging him to take that one step into oblivion no, I want to fight, I want to rebel, even if it means falling I just want to live a different kind of lover’s supplication as the hand closes around his wrist, if you fight, I fight at your side and the wind picks up, fate demanding submission to the ritual death, howling for blood, how dare they defy? but I choose the dawn not this time, not this night, destiny denied as the Moon steps down and the Sun releases his wrist, kneeling in allegiance, adoration and abdication, and I choose you, always

 

[ I have a number of new followers, so to those of you who are new to my characters, here! Have a tragic solstice myth! ]

#1423

Sir,

There is much to say, and no knowledge of how to say it. Forgive me for the lack of focus. I only hope you finish reading this knowing I am in your debt.

Much of my life has been spent struggling with this feeling, like a secret bursting at the seams to be told, but coupled with so much fear of getting caught that, ultimately, the secret dies in the keeper’s throat.

One year ago, I began to feel different. The fluttering was still there, oh yes, but it had moved from my throat to my chest. It felt like I was being torn apart on the inside, ventricle by valve. So what did I do? I fought, of course. The loneliness had been safely harnessed in my throat, effectively silencing me my whole life. Suddenly, the animal wanted out. I couldn’t let it. Because if I did let it out, there’d be nothing left inside me, and I already felt so hollow.

This was when I made a decision. I chose to let things happen. I opened my cage and closed my eyes and waited for the parades of tourists to mock the botched pieces that composed me.

But something happened that, in all my emphasis of claiming I knew myself, surprised me: I wanted someone. A girl. A girl I’d never met. A girl whose words flowed through my veins in place of blood. And the more I fought it, the deeper she got. I pulled away, but it was as thought I had bound myself to her, and she had no choice but to follow.

You know of whom I speak.

She is as valuable to you as you are to her, whether or not you are aware of it. She often speaks about you and your mate as though she owes her life to the two of you. I’d never tell her otherwise… but I wonder how much you two realize that she is vital to you. Yes, you two would live on regardless… but she has been nothing but a faithful servant. Please don’t think me insensitive. I know that you at least acknowledge her and the role she plays in your existence. But as her mate, it bears repeating.

You and I share a bond: we both serve the one we love. And perhaps that’s all I needed to say. My hand desperately had to write this, to write to you. I feel close to you in a way I’ve never felt close to anyone before. Do you think that means we owe something to one another?

There’s more, other things to say that, in time, will be said. But for now, it’s enough to thank you for this gift you’ve given me.

I trust we’ll speak soon.

I remain,

Chriselle

- – -

Little Flame,

Love bites. Love bruises. Beware.

I will not dissuade you from your path – it is mine as well, after all, and you no more chose to walk it than I did. But be cautious in your footing and do not rush overlong when you have yet to see what waits beyond the turn. Step lightly.

You are right: we have much in common, you and I, as do our lunar paramours. I too was blindsided by that feeling of being torn apart and yet knit together at the same time. The fear of hollowness; the fear of being filled and consumed. Neither could I pull away, drawn like a helpless magnet caught in an ancient force. Yet you have avoided the vices and demons which plague myself and my own, and will continue to do so if you are willing to fight for each other. Look to the one you love; she is yours to protect, from others and from herself. We are guardians and servants both, and you hold wells of strength of which you are not yet truly aware.

I know you would have us see the worth of her, and we do. I promise I respect the gravity of our debt. You must be patient, though. It has been just the two of us in this tale for so long, and such a tragic tale… we lose track of everything beyond our sorrow, sometimes. And you know He is not the kindest of men, especially toward those to whom he feels indebted. He fears her love, just as he fears mine.

Change is coming, Little Flame, and it is our duty to anchor our beloveds lest they be overwhelmed and undone. Have faith and hold fast.

- T

 

#1422

In my dream the ghosts reach out to you with electronic tendrils, seeping through the ether(net) to slip filament lies through your veins and into your brain, and even though I’m begging and pleading, yelling and screaming, I can see the digital glamour glow in your eyes and you’re already turning away, ears blocked by whispering static, fingers poised to craft a reply that will only feed the specters, only make them stronger.

#1420

You think I have forgotten who you were once, but I have not. I remember him, the one who was both god and beast, angel and demon. My beautiful monster, tragic and deceptive and deadly. We have lived a thousandfold lives yet still I recall that incarnation, oldest and cruelest, most clearly. I carry those memories with me like battle scars; memories of madness, of destruction, of desperation and sorrow. Memories of blood and ash, myself kneeling at his feet in the wasteland, the gun in my hand. The gun at my temple. I remember it all, and I love that creature still. I worship the shard of darkness he left within you.

#1417

Or do you loathe me, specter, because you fear what I may reveal? The past of which your lover may only guess, and to which I am more privy than you would like? Yet I have given you no reason not to trust me with such intimate information. As bound and indebted to you as I am, I should not have to swear an oath of silence to prove myself; let my twelve years of unbroken faithfulness be testament to my willing servitude. Yes, each time we join I sink a little further into your consciousness, and with the weight of your body anchoring my awareness come, too, the memories stirring unbidden beneath your mind. But these are your memories, your experiences and burdens, and I would slit my own throat before letting a single one pass my lips. You know this, specter. You share my essence as much as I share yours, and every part of myself is open to you if you deign to look. I don’t ask you to trust me. I only ask you to judge my actions, not the threat I could pose.

#1416

I feel your hatred every time we join, specter; your animosity, your rejection, your disgust. I’ve always been aware of it on the periphery, but now it’s a force I must reckon with each time I gladly relinquish control, every time I unwillingly wrench it back. Why? What have I done, faithful scribe as I am, to earn your eternal condemnation? I thought once it was my necessity you scorned, that you resented needing someone else to tell your story, an intruder into your ill-fated tale. Yet… that isn’t the entirety, is it? Yes, you begrudge me my role, but there is more to your disdain. Something deeper. Something private.

Tell me, specter… do you hate me so because I know what you strive to hide even from yourself? Do you loathe me because I know that more than anything else, you want him to hold you? Just to hold you, like a child woken from a nightmare? I’ve felt that longing, so strong and sharp it makes me want to weep at its mere recollection. To deny that need for even a moment, let alone constantly as you have done for so long… no wonder you’re filled with such rage. No other emotion is powerful enough, nor volatile enough, to bury such a thing.

I will not ask for your forgiveness, specter; I do not expect you to give it. I only wish you to give me time to show you I pose you no threat. I am yours in all things, in all ways, body and heart and soul. You know this as well, even if you choose to deny it.

#1415

[They lay silent in the darkness, bodies curled into each other like spent Autumn leaves. It is Daren who speaks first, his words a low murmur against Tanim's bare chest.]

Daren: What does it feel like?

Tanim [shifts to draw Daren closer against himself ]: Being with you?

Daren [nods]: Yes.

[Tanim is silent for a moment as he considers his words.]

Tanim [thoughtfully, more to himself than his companion]: Like living and dying at the same time. I can’t tell which I’m doing, and I don’t care.

Daren [at once both weary and hesitant]: Do you wish it were otherwise?

Tanim: I wish a great many things, but not that. Never that.

Daren: What do you wish, then?

Tanim [reaching up to brush his fingers through Daren's short hair]: I wish for you to sleep peacefully through the night, love, just once before I die.

Daren: The only small amount of peace I’ve ever known has been with you.

Tanim [emphatically]: And I have never known peace before you. Not once.

[Daren says nothing to this, and a brief moment of silence passes between them.]

Tanim: Do you believe me?

Daren [sighing]: No. But you are a fool, and I know you believe yourself.

Tanim [tightening his embrace on Daren for emphasis]: Your fool.

Daren: Mine. [He nods, a faint smile of concession drawing back his lips, and turns his face into Tanim's chest.] Yes. Mine.

#1412

dazed, soul aching and body craving, desperate for a hit, a fix, an escape, cessation culmination everythinganythingsomething, tired of useless alcohol and worthless drugs, no chance of reprieve there so he turns to pain, fresh and hot and searing like it used to be, can be again, palm flat on the table and fingers spread, he presses the barrel of the gun to the back of his hand and pulls the trigger

#1411

“I’ll fax that right now”
“can you hold for just a sec?”
hotels tell you lies
-
waiting for a fax
I know it will never come
they’re laughing at me
-
new email pops up
this had better be my fax!
no. no. never. no.
-
fax finally here
they charged the wrong credit card
cycle starts again
-
[ My job involves dealing with hotels across the globe. This is my day, every day. ]