The gate before us was as black as the sky.
When I dreamed, it was of darkness, a heavy, thick velvet of black and green suffocating the ground below. The rain came down heavily enough that air was seldom separate from the sea. Lightning crackled above the sickly green waters, illuminating the waves of moisture as they met in the area between sky and ocean.
Continue reading “Wet Dreams”
Marius’ Valet, Coutherie Hafaza.
[for the House of Cards campaign]
A meeting of Marius’ knights was rarely called, each of them having their own duties with irregular reports being forwarded to the ever-so genial Sir License. That it was requested proved enough to pique the curiosities of all five.
Continue reading “The Valet of Hafaza”
Marius briefly discusses his learning of the Trumps.
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience.”
Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4
[edited for continuity reasons]
When I think of Trump, I think of the sea wind, and the sound of sailors shouting in the background, bells ringing in the fore. I did not learn of the Trumps so much as learned patience, you see.
Continue reading ““O gentle son,”
Although they were flesh’d villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and kind compassion
Wept like two children in their deaths’ sad stories.
King Richard III, Act 4, Scene 3
So, having finally purchased a copy, I decided to go ahead and try to write Marius up using Dogs in the Vineyard.
Continue reading “Canid”
I find myself disappointed in Sir Brennan of the Ruby Knights, a master of the fields of the dark realm.
“… this is my true-begotten father, who, being more than sand-blind,
high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try
confusions with him.”
The Merchant of Venice
I find myself disappointed in Cousin Brennan. Sir Brennan of the Ruby Knights, a master of the fields of the dark realm.
It is difficult to put into words why I do not find pleasure of him, although I believe I have found it.
Continue reading “[Aside] “O heavens!…”
Hmmm. I need a new to-do list…
(from a comment in the HoC GM Blog)
“Hmmm. I need a new to-do list,” Marius thinks to himself. “What are my upcoming plans? Oh yes. I even have them as a top ten list.
10. Have discussion with Martin in re: being a King.
9. Find out if it’s really true about Rebman girls. You know what I mean. [nudge-nudge wink-wink say-no-more say-no-more]
8. Surprise Ossian with something in Trump that has that “It’s so crazy it just might work!” feel.
7. Spawn a parasitical Brandbeing.
6. Have it out with Jovian.
5. Learn how to absorb people a la Cloudeater’s kind.
4. Absorb the right people.
3. Gain knowledge and power.
2. Ask Paige out for a date.
1. Become King of the World. Or a world. Or, really, having my own Pattern Realm would be nice.”
Secrets are planted in the Garden. Secrets can grow, but with proper tending they do not become choked with the weeds of deceit.
Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,
Shall send between the red rose and the white
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
King Henry VI
I stood in front of the portal, where the Lady awaited.
She gestured and I sat, watching the flowers sway in the current. Tendrils of the plants reached out as if picking invisible details out of the water. Some of the long, thin vines were more like whiskers, quivering in anticipation of the Lady’s passage.
“This is the Garden,” she said.
I nodded, although I did not know what she meant. I heard the capital in the word, and knew that was some of what she was saying.
She wore black, black threaded with a green so dark as to be almost invisible against the silk. She was the tallest woman I had seen in this Rebman realm. She crossed her legs, sitting across from me. Some of the floating leaves brushed against her, caressing the long black strands of her hair.
Continue reading ““And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,”
“Whose doom is whose?” I wondered aloud, before awaking.
…so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of.”
I hesitated at the archway, and the Lady of the Garden stood before me. She had pale skin, and was tall, almost alien in height. Her eyes were faintly curved, with a delicate ashen fold, and her hair was the black of Chaos. Her lips were a beautiful mint colour. Her kimono was also black, with green designs I could not make out, and to stare at them made me feel…strange.
“Go forth,” she said. Her voice was like my mother’s, but not quite. Sister of my grandmother, perhaps? The thought skipped across my mind like a rock skittering across the surface of a pool. “Go forth, at your own peril.” The first was invitation, but this sentence was a warning.
I took the step. It was peril to go forth, but peril too to remain at the periphery.
Continue reading ““And since you know you cannot see yourself…”
It’s a little darker than my usual musical interests.
Jars of Clay – “Flood”
Stabbing Westward – “Save Yourself”
The Smiths – “Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before”
Duran Duran – “Ordinary World”
Seal – “Princess”
Dave Matthews Band – “Don’t Drink the Water”
XTC – “Mermaid Smiled”
Depeche Mode – “Dream On”
Tina Turner – “We Don’t Need Another Hero (Thunderdome)”
I usually start out with the Beatles’ “Maxwell Silverhammer,” too.