Under the Gun

[SpadeMalloy]

The night had hit the hour where everything was silent and cautious, the hesitation of a wary pause for whatever would come next in the thick of night. That hour, the very hour that the superstitious and pagans alike would term as the thirteenth hour would always be a favorite for Sidonie. In that hour she was always left to her thoughts. The late night stroll had left her mind quiet as she was nothing more than a wisp of darkness slinking and prowling its sensual shadow through a suddenly unlocked door of a business gone to ruin.

Spade easily could have claimed it was the economic hardships that left Cloud Nine in its closure, but in truth the downfall of Cloud Nine to Hell might as well just been a personification of Spade?s own tormented descent to such a lamenting pain of torture and spiritual torment.

Every night the nightmares would exist, unwelcome nightmares? never the ones she had known well and found solace in throughout the Dark Court. The Unseelie did not find any passion of tormenting any with the visual of death unless it was the fear of the one they sought to torture. Still night after night the same nightmare of an unborn child lost and of a consort that had taken his own life.

Her Truth and her child taken from her had left Spade in a desolation and wicked despair of spirit that led her into such self-loathing and hatred. The betrayals of her own kind against her and the nature of others trying to heal her only to leave her behind were far too much and left the once vivid and spirited Sidhe into a shadow of herself. The inner torment had made her nothing more than an enemy to herself as she found herself denying and avoiding her need for skin touch and the necessity to feed upon the emotions of others to drink down in order to survive.

The marks of such were physically obvious from the once shine of moon pale flesh had become death?s pallor born shade, the one svelte figure now bone marked and savage claimed by the ravaging run of the rampant black dogs upon her skin. Some of the marks were of her own doing the bruises certain revelation of her indifference to the end of her life and the shearing of lush black tresses to savage onyx blades of hair proof that her physical brutalizing had been taken out on her hair rather than on places that would bleed and bring an end.

Spade understood well that to survive meant a far worse curse and torture then to end her life. The loss of their child and Truth?s suicide she would judge only as being her fault. Still through it all she found herself resolved and comforted only by one thing in the realization of all she was and all she had become.

Spade had learned through the torture of the time that had passed that words spoken on the tongues of men were nothing more than lies and half-truths. That words became what the other wished and needed to hear rather then what truly was meant to be said. It was the one small thing that Spade held on to and kept faith in? the one small thing about being that of the Dark Court and Unseelie born that she cherished.

Sidonie could not lie and for that she would be eternally grateful especially when she knew how easy man could bend and twist words as elegantly as any Sidhe to save their own flesh for their own selfish needs. It was enough for Spade to possess that peace of mind to realize that despite all she had lost she at least had that. She still had faith in Truth it was everyone else that Spade no longer believed in or would allow in. No longer would she be so na?ve as to trust any of them ever again.

The keys to the business were abandoned on the vanity as she sank down to sit on the window seat as the sharp comfort of the whiskey was sipped straight from the bottle even as she withdrew the blade that possessed the sigil of the Hound.

Even if the Thirteenth Hour was her favorite hour, as Spade found herself staring out into the night, she could not feel any more alone.

[SpadeMalloy]

Time taught, to those that would listen and subject themselves to the observation, many things. With time one easily could learn to see beyond the glamour and through the facades that so many would subject themselves to wearing. Spade if any had finally mastered the art of seeing through the facades of those others wore. Perhaps it was because she was Sidhe but she believed more then anything it was because of what she had endured by the hands of others.

It wasn't so much their hands as their words now the woman no longer trusted. She found herself again standing on the rooftop of her shop leaving the night to soak into her skin as she contemplated all that had transpired. More then anything she missed her little band of Misfits and the mischief that had come of all of them spending time together. The memory itself would bring a smile to her face as she turned her eyes from the moon to stare out into the sweet darkness.

The lies of men, how easily she could be deceived by them even as she herself was unable to speak a lie. She had wanted to much to believe every single word only to find that each and every word might as well have been rehearsed for some fantastic performance. Just another mask, just another character being played and performed. When there were so many lies who really could know the nature of a man and who they really were?

Within lies and facades wolves really revealed themselves to be nothing more then broken pups with frothing mouths eager for attention. Within lies the greed of a man and his gluttonous need to be desired and wanted could go over tenfold until it destroyed. Spade had no curses for those poor souls when she knew in the end they would only destroy themselves. Part of that which was the darkness within the Sidhe, the part of her that truly belonged to the Dark Court felt an wicked pleasure at the notion of the downfall of man when such would come to pass.

She would wait for those moments with a beating heart and an eager smile but for now all she knew was the waiting for one that was none of these things. She waited for one that she had been waiting for each and every night when she knew he wasn't meant to return to her. Some things weren't meant to be. No, not for her. Happiness and love were a fool's game and a distant quarrel. Still she found herself waiting... waiting still for Truth.