Fixed and Consequent

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 71, Eighteen Five

It?s kind of funny, I see Aurora almost every night, we get to the observatory a little early to open up the gift shop and the exhibits, but when I saw her get out of her car at the dance club, it was like seeing her for the first time again. She wore a rose colored dress, silk, and heels, her hair was pinned up, I was stunned again.

If it hadn?t been for Teddy poking me with a claw, I?d probably still be standing there like an idiot. Aurora smiled, too, a lot, and she blushed. I don?t think as much as I did, but she didn?t say anything about it.

She dances so well. She moves to the music like nothing I?ve ever seen. I felt like some dumb clod who managed to ask Ginger Rogers to dance. She had this... incredible, exquisate expression on her face when she was dancing. I don?t know how I could dance. Then she said I was the best partner she?d ever had, and I was completely astonished.

The place was closing before I realized it, which embarrasses me still, I don?t usually lose track of time like that. Aurora said she didn?t either, but she was having such a good time. She really seemed to mean that.

We ended up getting breakfast instead of dinner, and she offered to give me a lift home since she?d kept me out all night. I kind of balked. She?s so bright and vivid that I really didn?t want to come off as some morbid creep and tell her I live in a cemetary, but she already knew, and she didn?t seem to think it was odd.

I hope not, anyhow. So many people think there?s something wrong with it, or me, that I do. Aurora just said her aunt told her I was from a family of morticians. Which kind of ...well I guess that still confuses and alarms me. Either Dr. Geemis is volunteering information about me, and I really don?t know what she thinks of me; or Aurora is asking, and... I don?t know what Debbi thinks of me.

I had her stop by the pond because the sun was coming up, and there?s a lovely veiw of it there. It was hard to watch the sun once the light hit her face. I wonder if she always had that golden aura and her parents named her for that.

Aurora said she thought the cemetary really was pretty, and offered to give me a hand if I needed it. The window boxes were blooming, and she bought more plants, the cemetary would be one big garden to work on. Which is how I see it, too.

I was tired or in a daze going in, I don?t remember getting into bed, but I did. Even now, if I close my eyes and am quiet, I can still feel her in my arms dancing. I keep doing that. I?m such an idiot.

I really want to know what Debbi Geemis is saying about me though. It alarms me, on one hand; it?s... I don?t know what it is. It?s a strange feeling, I?ve never wanted to be anything for anyone, and I certainly never cared what that lunitic thought of me. Now I?m terrified she?s telling Aurora what a psychopath I am.

Or worse, telling her about where I?m from, my disabilities, what happens to me. How often. Aurora?s never seen it. I?ve been lucky.

I don?t want to tell her. I don?t want to at all. I?m just another guy. I?m normal as far as... Well, I assume Aurora knows. I guess I can?t expect that the first thing out of her aunts mouth wouldn?t be ?he has seizures, darling, randomly, you?re going to be terrified the first time he collapses at your feet.?

Damn it. It was so nice to at least pretend she didn?t know. Pretend it wasn?t there at all.

I don?t even know what I?m thinking! She?s so... normal. Aurora is... just so normal. And here I am. I hide everything, and it never does any good. All I ever manage is for people to get to know me before this facade of the quiet normal young man shatters into its componant pieces. Mage, disabled, not quite human, astrologer.

Will o? whisps and ghosts. Bogle, shadow dragon, and familiar. Nightmares you can touch. A witch for a team leader. I live in a cemetary. I get depressed.

I guess Jackie was right. I wear this mask so doggedly, and I?m so scared when it comes down. Some people couldn?t look past all that once they learned it. They couldn?t see past it and see I?m still me. They would be angry and ask why I hadn?t told them in the first place, and I never have a good answer.

?Hello, I?m Desdenova, I use my mothers maiden name, I?m a mage, I have siezures without warning and partial mobia syndrome, I have several beings ascribed to fantasy on my person as familiar and protectors, I live in a cemetary, I work for an interdimensional research and developement facility, I can and do callously kill those that harm my loved ones, my sense of smell is as good as any blood hounds, and though both of my parents are human, only one is homo sapiens.? Yes, what a wonderful way to introduce myself.

I don?t want to tell her. I don?t. I want to just be another guy.

It never works out like that. I always betray myself just because I am myself. All I can do is hope that she likes me well enough to accept the rest.

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 71, Eighteen Five

I didn?t think my opinion of Alec could get any lower. I?ll say this much for that two-timing lying bastard, he?s got a lot more balls than I?d have ever dreamed any neutered girly boi could ever have.

He went crying to Zane about how I have been rude to him. I have been rude to that sack of mouse droppings. I?ve hurt his little feelings and made him feel bad.

I was so stunned by the audacity, I couldn?t even think. That whining little creep tattled. Not only that, but he lied to do it.

The worst part was that this mature adult didn?t come to me to discuss his problem with me. No. He went sleazing to Zane to whimper about how big, bad, mean Des was hurting wittle him.

That after I hear the little creep simpering to his lover Havock or whatever it is about how ?if people can?t accept me as I am, fuck them?. I loved that, I don?t know how I kept from laughing hysterically. ?If people can?t accept me as I am...?

Yet he refuses to accept other people as they are. I can?t dislike him for the way he treats Zane because oh, he?s a sexy made for sex sexual sex machine, and everyone has to respect that. And he does not have to respect that other people find his actions to be vile and disgusting.

I shouldn?t have been so shocked, I all ready knew he was a bald faced liar and hippocrite, but I was. And I?m sorry, but I?m not going to change my morals to make it okay for him to be such a hidious prick.

It?s not wrong for me to not find him lovely and sweet and adorible. Sorry, if he can?t accept me as I am, he can just fuck off.

Actually, no, I?m not that much of a self centered creep. I know that people have different ways. If they are worth knowing despite having objectionable habits, they will reach out when you reach out. They won?t insist on being accepted unconditionally any more than they would accept unconditionally things that they find objectionable.

They certainly wouldn?t force their ways on someone else, or worse, knowing already that their ways are objectionable, demand that someone else take up and enjoy their ways.

I tried, more than once. Several times. To reach out to him. I did so when Zane was there, and when she wasn?t. Every time I tried to get to know him better, I was rewarded with coarse sexual remarks and humor. I know I told him, and I know Zane told him, that I do not enjoy that sort of humor in the slightest, particularly if it?s suggesting that I am trying to be sexual.

But apparantly, I have no right to find that objectionable. I have no right to not want to have that aimed at me. I have to accept being the brunt of filthy innuendo and outright sexual suggestion, I have to think it?s funny and cute, or I?m bad.

I?m not bad. I still find it objectionable.

That was, evidently, the main part of my ?rudeness?. That I don?t like those sorts of jokes, I don?t like it when he?s trying to get an orgy on the porch going with all his little glitter fag friends, and I don?t like it when he?s petting and nuzzling over the half dressed skank girls.

Sorry, I don?t care what he is. He agreed to be Zanes? one and only, what he?s doing is worse than disrespectful. And that?s just what he does in the public veiw. That?s not counting after he and his good ?cuddle buddy? of the moment have gotten each other all thrilled and panting and suddenly they have to go.

I don?t automatically assume that they?re off fornicating, but it?s rather difficult to think they?ve gone off to the Christian Reading Room to brush up on their Gospel.

Alec whined to Zane that I would go out of my way to avoid walking by him. I was really surprised at that one, because I had, just a few nights before, said hello, responded to everything he asked me or in general, and politely pretended not to hear when he started making me sound like an utter monster to his new skank girl.

Though I remembered that yes, there were a few times that I went over the side of the porch rather than to go down the steps, and only one of those times had anything to do with him. That was when he had started a grope-fest on the steps, and there was no way I was going to go in reaching distance of that.

They were grabbing and pawing at everyone that went by, there wasn?t any way on earth I was going to get within range of that. I don?t think there?s any reason for me to feel bad for not wanting strangers and people I know are willing to molest others to touch me.

The other few times had nothing at all to do with him, and if he was stupid enough to think that I was going to use the steps when there were altercations in progress there, then he?s a bigger idiot than I thought.

The thing that just really blew me away, though, was when Zane said ?well, Alec isn?t very perceptive about people?.

He?s plenty perceptive. It?s just that you either love him entire, or you suck. I don?t suck. I?m sure he?d love it if I did, though.

I thought he was supposed to be empathic, too. Not to mention he flings around magic like a drunken prom queen, and it?s all pulled out of his ass with the rest of his idiotic remarks and actions. He?ll be invisible, and I mean, literally that, invisible, in the corner, and then suddenly appear, and start whining about being ignored. Or he?ll pop up, insist he?s been there for hours and been ignored, and he wasn?t there at all prior.

All this as if no one else in the world is capable of knowing things like that. Well, I may know when he?s there and being invisible, or in another form, but I?ve been taught that when someone is trying not to be seen, and you don?t have a hit on them, to just let them hide. You could endanger them by pointing them out.

Besides, in general, when someone is hiding like that, they don?t want to deal with you.

He?ll also show up and then go inside, or a long ways away from the tavern, and I?m not following him. I won?t follow Cam when she and Bren go inside unless they need something. But that?s being rude and ignoring Alec. Nevermind the fact that it?s rude and ignoring me to walk up and by without a word. When someone ignores me, or is brusque and marches by to get away from me, I take that as a dismissal, not an invitation.

Mainly, I was just shocked that this supposed adult male with all these wonderous powers and skills within his complete control was not able to walk up to me and talk to me about my ?rudeness?.

I?ve been trying to be polite, I?ve been going out of my way to be polite. I don?t have anything else to talk to him about because it?s already been ignored when I said that I don?t care to be in the middle of his sexual innuendos. Obviously, it?s beyond his ability to respect that, so I don?t try to aggravate the issue.

I don?t like the way he treats Zane, but that?s between them. I know Zane has said that if he?s really fucking around, then one of her friends should tell her, but that never goes over well. She feels that if no one tells her, they?re not really friends.

The trouble is, even when I?ve started to tell her that there are a lot of suspicions, she quickly explains them away. Oh, sure Alec was kissing and fondling this person or that, and they both left in obvious sexual excitement, but Alec never would cheat when he said he wouldn?t. I don?t have any proof, and frankly, I don?t think she?d believe it if I did have proof.

And then I think she?d hate me if I did.

I tried to tell her, anyhow, but she just kept explaining it away. No, no, Alec?s just really affectionate and he?s allowed to do things that would infuriate anyone else if their lover was acting so.

So what else could I do? I was hurt. A lot. But there wasn?t anything I could say because she was just trying to protect the man she loves. I can respect that, if nothing else.

All I could do was to say that if Alec really had a problem with me, he needed to pull on his big boy underpants and talk to me instead of putting her in the middle of it. She agreed to that, at least. I felt bad, because now he?ll whine at her because if she?s not doing his every bidding, she doesn?t love him.

There?s nothing else I can do. Just nothing.

[Desdenova]

[Interlude -- Break Fast]


The first rays of morning slanted through the gaps in the sprung hinges of the barn doors, managed to press through the soot blackened windows. Charlie ruffled her feathers, dimmed to a pale, lightless gold in the night.

Silent for those few moments of rising sun, though another dawn, she would have blazed to morning bright and swoop glad fire-trails through the dark and dusty space. Not this morning, no. She was hungry, and watched the old grain bins and hayloft keenly from her rafter perch.

Rats and mice were easy prey as they scuttled back to their lairs, and the phoenix watched closely for them. The pair of owls that lived over the loft had already fed their hatchlings and were done with their hunts for the night, however, and Charlie realized that so long as the parents were feeding two little beaks, she wouldn?t have much luck in the barn.

Trilling to herself, Charlie launched from her perch, blazing sunshine, easy acrobatics to squidge through a broken out windowpane. Fluttering to rest on the lightning rod and to let the sun admire her fires, the phoenix contemplated the house.

Her boy would be up shortly, and he wouldn?t mind feeding her. In the cold thing, he had chicken and rabbit giblets, and fatty pig parts, as well as the eggs he collected from the scroungy hens she wasn?t supposed to snatch up.

Charlie almost decided to mooch a handout when she spied a young, fat ground hog snuffling along the side of the greenhouse. Tilting her head back and forth to get a bearing on breakfast, the firebird was oblivious that there was another predator watching the ground hog.

Preferring shadows to the open air, the other regarded the ground hog reflectively. Just the right size for a meal and perhaps a few choice bits left over to impress a female with.

Then in a flurry of fire and a sharp squeal of protest, the ground hog was gone. Scratching his head and chittering annoyance, the raccoon surrendered cover to try and find out where his breakfast had got to.

Perched on an ornate tomb, the phoenix merrily tore into her meal, chortling and singing to herself. No matter how sweet her boy was, reheating ones repast just couldn?t compare to fresh and warm.

The raccoon swarmed up the tomb, at first intending upon driving off the interloper from his ground hog, and then halting, absolutely transfixed by the shining fire colors of the phoenix?s feathers.

No female in her right mind would ever turn one of those down, but he?d have to search high and low for one that he?d want to offer a feather like that.

Charlies? back was to the bandit, unaware that there was larceny affixing to the graceful span of her tail feathers. Busy eating, quick gulps of meat taken with every duck of head, the phoenix was hungry enough to forget to keep an eye out for other predators.

Or theives...

The raccoon lunged with paws and teeth, quickly seizing Charlie at the base of her tail. Charlie let out an outraged and infuriated shriek, startled into flapping madly to escape her tormentor.

This resulted in a bare butt and a running bandit partially clothed in stolen plumage. Charlie was stunned, plopping to the ground like a wet hen and keening her head off.

Worse, her boy came running out... and started laughing. Laughing!

Charlie scolded through her misfortune, flapping and hopping. Instants later, however, Bea shot through the open door and plowed into the larger raccoon, barking. A sharp burst of energy caused the theif to squeal and drop the stolen tail feathers before beating feet from the cemetary as fast as his stubby legs would carry him.

Bea whuffed and scuffed her paws, stiff legged, strutting over having driven the raccoon away, and Desdenova still laughed. Finally, he staggered to the fuming phoenix, and gathered her up, trying to soothe away her indigneties.

Charlie wasn?t having any of it, however, she sulked and struggled to get free of his arms and fluttered back to the tomb where she chewed him out seven ways till Sunday while tearing at her ground hog.

Desdenova listened, lips twitching with his amusement, dutifully to the tirade until Charlie seemed to run out of steam. Finally, giggling softly into his hand, the youth turned and gathered up the fallen tail feathers.

Phoenix feathers. He knew that in the shop, even specimens in poor shape fetched incredible prices. There were dozens of spells that specified their use, none that Desdenova had ever really found need for.

Curiously smoothing the feathers in his fingers, he glanced between them and Charlie. They shone like flame, but didn?t burn. They remained warm, but not hot, never bursting into the real fire that Charlie was quite capable of igniting.

A kings ransom in his hand, Desdenova reflected, smiling in a gentle fade. Certainly, at least that. But they were pretty. Why ruin them for a spell?

That?s really all that mattered. Desdenova coiled them carefully in his pack. His friends would like them.

Finally, Charlie forgave the youth when he walked back out holding up a tin of silver nitrate to soothe her bottom and a chunk of fresh baked gingerbread to apologize to her stomach. Better, he was singing a song that Charlie hadn?t heard yet.

It wasn?t worth having her glorious plumage torn away, but Charlie allowed that it did make up for laughing at her misfortunes. Settling onto Desdenovas? shoulder, the firebird took up East Side of Heaven along with him.

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 72, eighteen five

No?Chok is his name, I don?t know why I was calling him other things. I probably haven?t written it the same way twice. Oh, well. I?m sure he?d just laugh and pick me up to hug me.

He?s the ...Lion-taur. Wemic he says sometimes, it?s a little hard to understand him often. He doesn?t speak much common yet, and I don?t like using translators or translation spells, because those can delay learning the language you?re trying to understand.

That ticked me off a few times. Alec just BAM casts a translation spell on No?Chok without even asking. Rome was just managing to get words from her translator, we were doing fine, but no, here comes Mr. Super Mage to the rescue.

No?Chok didn?t mind, but that doesn?t make it okay.

I envy him so much, No?Chok. From what I can understand, he is one day to be a shaman, and he has decided to learn about the world around him before he does so. Learning tales, or gaining them to tell again later or... Well, I?m not really sure, but he is determined.

He loves feathers, and beads, and puts them in his mane in specific ways. It seems haphazard, yes, but there seems to be stories in just how they are arranged. I gave him one of Feathyres? feathers, and he was delighted. It wasn?t one of her biggest feathers from her wings, but still he said that she must walk long on the wind.

Well, eventually she will, I said she was still young and would learn. She will.

[inserted into the pages]


I envy him, though. He has decided that he will learn of the world, and in turn, it shall learn of him. And, he just... went. Packed what he would need for the body and soul and started out.

It seems like he?s on some sort of pilgrammage. There?s a ...I don?t know. It?s a kind of good humored defiance in his tones when he speaks of his journey, but I haven?t really figured out why yet.

No?Chok speaks of the plains, and his ways and speech remind me of the plains Natives. Cherokee, maybe, one of the great tribes. He has that air of watching into the sun, of minding the sky.

When you?re a friend, he picks you up and hugs you. I like to tell him when people are friends, and then not tell my friends that they?re going to get picked up and hugged, and possibly licked. It?s funny.

There?s no chance in the whole world that No?Chok is harmless, after all, only a fool would take his sweet nature and kind heart for that. But he wouldn?t hurt anyone that was a friend.

I like it when he just plucks me up and hugs, though he usually makes me squeak when he does. One morning, he was in a particularly gleeful mood, and I was right there, he kept picking me up and hugging, and I kept squeaking.

Actually, now that I think about it, the ladies were there giggling that I was squeaking, and I think he was playing off of that. It?s easy to think of someone like him as being stupid, but he?s most certainly not. I?ll bet he dips the girl wemics tails in inkwells, too.

Anyhow, Paige drove me to work, because Maria had given her a list of things she needed for her Santoria, and she insisted that I didn?t need to help her, she?d get on fine with Matilde working the register. I really really should have suspected. Or at least been paranoid of Matilde and Paige chatting amiably without me standing there listening.

I don?t think that would have stopped them, but at least I?d have been better forwarned.

They made a little Desdenova-doll. It SQUEAKS. Matilde used MY toymakers first artical spell and made a DOLL of ME that SQUEAKS. And Paige gave it to Elly to GNAW on.

Women are evil.

[Desdenova]

[Interlude: Black Dog]

Yawning fit to shame the Grand Canyon, Shadow made her presence known. It was the first indicator of her mobility in the morning. Second was the bed head, which she always had. Just worse at this point in time. Shirt rumpled, pants wrinkled, she just rolled right on out of bed and started walking.

?Sun,? she squinted, lucid as a cave girl, ?Bright.?

Beautiful dog, yes. Elegant, flying trot carried the large black and white Borzoi from the woods, bounding after a red ball. Upon capturing the ball in jaws, the animal turned and launched back. Only to follow, barking gladly after the flight of the ball thrown once more.

This throw took it further towards the porch. Ball caught, the wolf hound poised, pointing, and finally, fringed whip tail waving, loped to the porch.

Running a hand through her hair, which made the rest stand on end too, Shadow meandered in patterns that made as much sense as she did. Precisely none. Until a dog with longer legs than she scrambled in her path up the steps. Give her roughly a few seconds. The motor was slow, and the oil was sluggy.

?Good morning,? To the canine, of course.

The hint of a grin tugged at the corner of scarred black lips as Patch approached the tavern, faded, lifeless gaze set on the borzoi engaged in play.

Dog-smiles on the wedge of head, the dog pranced the last few steps to the porch. Whines, churrs and chuffs behind the ball, bright and shining blue and green mottled eyes. Perhaps a mutation. The ball was set down and the animal barked, brightly, looking from Patch to Shadow, wagging yes, and a neat white-booted paw tapping at the ball.
Patch hunkered down as he arrived at the porch, that?s what one is supposed to do to appear as less threatening to a dog, yes. A hand slowly entended for the pup to sniff.

?Yes, I know. Just let me wake up,? Shadow soothed the dog blearily, and smiled to Patch, ?Good morning.?

?Whuff ruff bark!? The Borzoi was a talkative fellow, yes, and fearless, it seemed, a skip to Patch, forepaws up and rested on the outstretched hand after a cursory sniff. A lick of cheek! Dog-breath kind of smelled pancakey.

Patch chuckled at the lick and touch of forepaw, then replied to the red-tressed woman before picking up the ball, ?Good morning.?

The ball was tossed towards the woods for the dog as Patch spoke, and barking in delight, off the dog raced, flying through tall grass and nimbly shooting through trees. Sight hound rather than a retrievor, but boy was this fun! It wouldn?t dawn on the dog that he?d been playing fetch ad naseum. Did that ever occur to a dog?

Shadow opened one eye, closed the other. Repeated it, as if testing to make sure all systems were go, watching the ball bounce merrily into darkened underbrush.

?You know. That?s how they enslave you,? Shadow remarked, sliding feet toward the serving window, ?Want anything??

?No, but thank you,? Patch replied amiably to Shadow, ?And I can think of worse forms of indentured servitude.?

Returning, the dog stopped and danced a circle around a short, orange, felinish bogle, only to bound back to Patch, sans ball. Seemed Teddy was tired, and had confiscated the damn ball.

The Mantra of the Dog went as thus, after all: ?Oh boy, a Walk! My favorite! Oh boy, dinner! My Favorite! Oh boy, a ride! My favorite! Oh boy, sleep! My favorite... Oooh. Bummer. The Vet.?

Shadow nodded, and pondered. What was that approaching? She didn?t really stare at Teddy but okay well yes, she was staring.

?True,? she responded, abstracted, to Patch.

Rising to his feet, Patch walked over to the corner of the tavern and around it, returning a short time later with a bucket of water, which he set on the ground near the porch.

?Thirsty, there, pup?? he smiled kindly.

The feline seeming goblin, bandy legged and ill tempered, well, Teddy was actually in a pretty good mood this morning. Carrying the astronomers case, the creature hissed hello and simply parked his furry butt on the swing to chill out.

The Borzoi nosed the bogle only to turn and dance circles around Patch. Oh Boy! Water! My favorite!

Patch had thought as much, that the dog might be thirsty. He looked to the bogle with one side of the shelf-like brow arched.

?No pet today, Teddy??

Teddy simply chortled and pointed at the Borzoi slopping water gaily as he drank. Shadow tossed her head back a moment, between the curmudgeonly creature and the dog, it startled laughter.

?Aaaaieee...gods! Not enough coffee to prepare one?s self for this place,? she decided, and stuck her head in the window and caterwauled for caffeine, before leaning a hip against the wall. Pointing at the chortling cat - creature, she looked to to Patch. ?Who is that?? Not ?what is it?. Good girl.

Teddy was revelling in irony this morning, excuse his horridly smug manner.

?That is Teddy. He?s a bogle. Don?t ask me what that is, because I don?t know, and I?ll end up just pointing at him,? Patch explained, reasonably.

?Ehhhhhhhh!? Fonz-like, the bogle spread his paws out to indicate the splendor of Him. Shadow stared. And stared. And stared. Until she had her coffee, and a long drink helped.

?Good morning Teddy,? she responded politely to the FurFonz.

?Need I say more?? Patch noted, ever elegant in contrast to his rough hewn appearance.

Wet muzzled, wet chest, wet paws, the Borzoi managed to probably get more water on him than in him. A vigorous shaking and the cheerful animal bounced to the porch, looking for dog-suckers. Teddy, he grinned showing a mouthful of possum-sharp teeth and wiggled claws in greeting. This is better than his usual one-fingered salute.

Indeed, the wave was better. Not to mention flying the bird probably just made chicks dig the bogle. Shadow held up her cup of sludge to look at it under the light.

?Mmm. Don?t see anything swimmin? in it.? So far, anyhow.

?Wrrf huff wff??The Borzoi looked up appealingly. Quick to push a wet nose... and head, really... under Patches hand. Petthedog? Freshly groomed, too, except for a few burrs and a lot of dew picked up in the morning run.

?Arf,? Shadow solemly replied to the dog, sprawling on her favored bench. It did sound like it asked a question, after all.

Patch reflected on his luck, and oh, all right, he?ll pet the nice, wet Russian wolfhound.

?Woof,? the dog agreed, apparantly, and wagged well enough to shake his entire arch of body. Bright and talkative dog, yes, but it was more cat-like, the push against the pettins. Spoiled dog.

?Yes, yes... you?re just a big ol? baby, aren?t you?? Patch noted, cueing the inane human-to-dog baby banter. A pleasant groaning sound from the Borzoi, eyes squeezed shut, the wagging threatened to go super-nova.

?WrrrrOoOooo.?

Patch was also trying to plumb the depths of a mystery, that mystery being out of all the people on the porch, he got suckered into petting the dog. The Borzoi did have a collar under all of that fur. And currently was oozing from one sucker to the next potential sucker: Shadow.

?Incoming,? Patch announced cheerfully to the carrot-top.

Like most large dogs, totally unaware of his size. Too elegant to really be intimidating, yes? Well. One might hope. Neat paw-pad at Shadow with an appealing whine, a quirk of silky ear. She wanted to pet the dog, yes? Of course she did!

Shadow blinked. Owlishly. Apparently, whatever day dream had carried her skittered away a moment as eyes focused on Patch, then the prance-pet-me-I-am-so-preeeettty-dance and tail wag.

?Mmm. You?re wet,? Pointing this out to the dog, before dangling elbows on her knees in a lean forward to scritch at the back of an ear. The dog smelled like some expensive shampoo, too, yes. But... was damp. Adoring gaze with the ear scratching, promptly mooching closer. Look at that silky glossy coat. Just begged to be petted. As if the dog wasn?t.

Patch was cleaned and groomed, too, but no one was petting him. Patch pondered the fur discrimination darkly.

Oddly, though friendly animals had a weird sixth sense about picking out the people that least wanted to do with them, the dog seemed content with pestering select people. The wolf hound murbled and groaned pleasantly, bulldozing in on Shadows? space.

Shadow didn?t mind. Half here and half not -- obviously. Ear scritching soon turned into full out back fur-burying-scritch-rub. The kind of petting for the dog that?d make pedigree owners who?d just spent a fortune grooming their
precious pookums, faint. Dogs loved it.

?Wrff. Wff rooo-rooooorroo. Wuff.? Well. Not quite adult and summer-coated, the Borzoi was perpetually shaggy to begin with. A lean in before going boneless, oozing to flop to his side. Doggy heaven.

Huge stretch. Huge. White socked paws out over head and fanned out with the white tipped tail. This was not to indicate the white-blazed belly that could use scratching, too. Really. Honest. Tail wag.

Patch brought Shadow another cup of coffee, silent and amused as she fulfilled her own prophecy and became a human scratch slave. Further mussing up the glossy black and white coat of the dog. Who was having more fun? The dog or the woman? Chicken or the egg? So many questions.

Tune in tomorrow for the answers on ?The Ways of Our Lives?...

?Arrrrroooorooouff.? Road-kill dog, yes, flat out, head back, tongue lolling upsidedown. The tail wag became a body-wag. Tuxedo pattern of fur. Matilde liked to pick species and breeds that had that particular coat coloring, prim white markings on black. Yet he would graciously allow Shadow to get her coffee. There were other dog-petters in attendance.

?Thankee kindly,? Shadow noted, setting the cup down on the benches arm. One hand idily mused through fur.

?Where did you come from?,? she inquired of the dog of course.

Well, when a lady dog and a gentleman dog love each other _very_ much.. ...And Timmy cries...

The dog couldn?t laugh, no, but dogs can have laughing eyes and laughing expressions that translate to a lot of wiggling and odd little puppy-sounds. He might have answered so smart assed to Shadow, his response was rich and chatty barking, ?Woof wuff huff rrrrrrooo Arffa wff.?

When a strange woman walked up and started, without a word of warning, to scratch behind the Borzois? ears, there were some signs of who the dog may belong to... May be? He didn?t know the woman and rolled promptly to sit, leaning back and eying her quite cautiously.

Shadow raised eyes breifly, watching as the stranger belatedly tried to make friends with the dog.

?Ought to be careful. Not every dog?ll be friendly like,? Shadow murmured to the woman.

?Animals don?t scare me,? the stranger spoke to Shadow, but she looked to the dog. A nose lick, anxious appearing, the sight hound looked up and back to Shadow and then Patch. Slight whine, a paw lifted in concern. Shadows? advice was well given, but so far, the Borzoi seemed harmless.

?Whassamatter, fella?? Patch frowned, blinking and looming over. That seemed to comfort the dog, oddly. Shadows eyebrows began to raise as she regarded the strange woman.

?That?s all well and good. But I?m not talking about you. Some animals are afraid of humans,? she explained patiently. Shadow pondered if the woman walked up to strangers on the street and petted them, too.

?Alright, alright,? the strange woman stood up and looked to Patch and would have glared at that stupidhead know-it-all Shadow if she had any backbone, ?I think I upset him.?

For the moment, the wolf hound remained sitting at Shadows feet, arched posture as elegant as some Tzarist figurine. Patch glanced from the dog to the stranger, shrugging.

?I don?t know, he hasn?t been upset by anyone else this morning.?

Fortunately for everyone, this dog didn?t happen to be snappy. He was considering this, however. Until Shadows fingernails titched a spot riiiiiight at the top of doggy ?eyebrows?, before bridge of nose. A good place to scratch.

?Rrr-rrrrrr. Meow,? the dog sighed pleasurably. You didn't hear that. Patch, however, peered curiously at the animal. What was that? The dog stared back as if trying to blame the bogle.

The strange woman stomped off with a muttering about stupid women under her breath, and abruptly...

?BARK. BARKBARK BARK BARK BARK!? The Borzoi was up on all fours, hackles up, stiff legged, glaring venomously at the womans back. Patch and Shadow both stared in surprise at the so far sweet tempered dog.

?Something wrong, Teddy, did Des fall in the well?? Patch inquired of the bogle.

?Des wouldn?t fall down a well,? Shadow decided, resolute. And if he did, and he died, she?d kill him.

Disgusted sounding sneezing, rolling growl, and the dog sat once more, ears perking and quirking. Solemn-sad stare. Unless there was more pettins involved, then the doggy smile would return. Teddy, he grinned toothily to Patch and just indicated, with both paws, the Borzoi.

?Sffrraazzttt.?

?You pushed him in the well, didn?t you,? Patch demanded of Teddy through narrowed lids. Teddys yellow eyes opened wide, a paw laid over furry orange chest. Moi?

Shadow smoothed fingertips along ears. Dogs like that, too. Swivelling her head around to narrow eyes at Teddy.

?Yes. You,? Patch rumbled.

The dog found many women to be idiots, really, and did not feel he was sitting beside one of those now. Teddy wasn?t sure how to explain the stupid mutt was offended by the idiot strangers words about Shadow, so he opted for a meltingly innocent gaze. As far as that went, for bogles.

?Mmmm,? Shadow mulled. Striking how many times she?s seen that expression Teddy made... On her own face. Time to look innocent. Look! A dog! One hand curiously swept at a -- collar?

The bogle snickered, and hopping from the swing, marched his furry butt over to the Borzoi. A few scritches to the dogs chest before Teddy pointed out quite an expensive silver collar around the dogs neck.

?Wait a minute...? Patch frowned. That collar had a plaque just like Desdenovas? Medic Alert bracelet. And the dogs eyes, and coat pattern and... ?What did you do to... Des??

Shadow fixed a stunned stare on the dog. The Borzoi promptly looked up to Patch.

?Woof.?

Shadows? nimble fingertips caught up the silver collar to ease it ?round the dogs neck toward her and Patch -- so they could read it. Sure enough, it read ?Desdenova Jones? along with a lot of numbers. His rabies shots must be up to date. Which was sad, they could have had fun sicking him on people.

?What the...?? Patch protested, jumping to his feet and staring incredulously, ?What did... how did... what happened?!?

?That?s impossible,? Shadow noted, sanely, ?No one can turn into a dog.?

Nice and calm, Shadow. Caaaaaaalm. Beautiful day. Lalalalalala.

?Did Paige have anything to do with this?? Patch asked because, well, the keeper generally had a hand in most of the evil mischief that took place ?round them thar parts.

?Wff,? And the dog shook his head. Teddy, mind you, was having boglish conniptions of laughter from his canine perch.

?Paige?? Shadow noted blankly, ?Des.? Zzzrrrrip. Record skip. ?Dog? Des...?

The Borzoi craned up to lick Shadows? cheek mournfully. Simon was going to be mad at him. Shadow, though, flapped a hand at the moogle. Beagle. Bogle. Thing.

?You turn him back, right now. You hear?? she snapped, looking for the broom while absently patting Des?s head. And then she blinked. ?Wait. Did he want to be a dog??

Because, despite the impossibilities of the entire situation, she hadn?t stopped to think that maybe that was Des? thang, and perhaps he was enjoying his hairball romp through never-never land. And it wouldn?t be polite for her to be all, flailing about if Des was enjoying being able to sit and...

Nevermind about the licking part. It hadn?t dawned on Des, the licking part. Blessedly. But he?d figured out the peeing on trees!

Teddy almost toppled from the Borzoi?s back laughing, but seated back on the dogs shoulders, apparantly went about explaining. This involved a lot of gesticulation and hissy fit sounds. It wasn?t Des? idea to be a dog, no, but seemed comfortable enough in the dogs? skin. The Borzoi crooned, tail wagging.

?...I?ve left my Hiss-aurus at home,? Shadow told the bogle.

?I hear that bogles are crunchy...? Patch growled with a snapping of teeth for emphasis.

Teddy, fearlessly, waved his furry butt at Patch.

?You?re going to have to mime,? Shadow decided, idly wondering, Can Teddy do the wall? Though mimes were worse than goblins, so one of the signs of the apocolypse must be a miming goblin. The world would then implode.

While Shadow was trying to maintain sanity, one of Teddys? middle fingers slooowwwwlllyyy raised under the waggling crooked tailed butt.

?Snnnek Fooo!? Teddy chortled.

?Why you little -- C?mere, I?m gonna have me a bogle aperatif!? Patch sputtered, outraged.

Shadow had quick hands. She made an attempt to grab at an appendage. How nice Teddy offered one. Teddy yawlped, siezed by the tail!

And an evil, evil grin ensued from Patch.

?Nice work, Red,? he purred, lumbering up onto the porch, cracking his knuckles and flexing his fingers. Catch a Teddy by the tail...

?Very good Mister Teddy. Do I have your undivided attention now?? Shadow inquired politely. She leaned forward. There are times where she wished she had claws, giant beak, or anything else frightening. She did, however, have one super power. One horrible, inhuman, unholy super power...

?Bah fenzzik Meeme gdorf!? Teddy complained, dangling. He folded his arms over his chest and huffed. The dog looked up, limpidly, and licked the hanging bogles face. Awwww.

?I don?t care how he turned into a dog. I don?t care if you did it. I do care that Des be returned to his usual state, as soon as possible. Or I am afraid...? Shadow gave a Dramatic Pause before issuing her ultimatim, ?I will have to sing the entire Beegee?s greatest hits.?

?Warf!!? The DOG complained!

?Yes. I know,? Shadow murmured to the dog, ?It?s supposed to be torture.?

?I think that I can manage something marginally more painful than that,? Patch offered politely. He stopped next to Shadow and Teddy, bending way over to peer upside down at the bogle.

Teddy was a goblin, after all. He might like Shadows? singing. But, either between the threat of aural torment or Patches implied hurting, Teddy spilled, or, appeared to spill, arms waving again as he hung there. Hissing his brains out.

Shadow held him up a little more to Patch. For close inspection. She probably wasn?t aware of the nature of Goblins. And that Teddy no doubt allowed her to hang onto him. How kind.

Finally, huffing, the goblin was reduced to, yes, miming. For paper and pencil.

?Patch? Would you be so kind as to find paper and pen?? Shadow smiled serenely. Later, back at the farm, she?d make sure to take alllll her medication.

?All right,? Patch agreed, and headed for the door doing the whole bend-duck-turn-enter thing, then made for the bar to swipe one of Bess? order pads and a pencil.

Teddy wasn?t so bad. He adored his pet human, anyhow. And the human turned dog wasn?t stressing over the bogles? actions. ...Though it was kind of fun to nose at the dangling goblin... Nose nose nose... Teddy muttered and swatted at the Borzoi. He was not a pinata!

Exiting in the same manner that he entered, Patch returned to the bogle and extended the requested items to him.

?Thanks,? Shadow hummed, swinging Teddy closer to Des. Dogs noses -- cold and wet.

?Zzrrrtiz!? Complaining, the bogle reached for the offered pen and paper... As he swung.

At this point in time, panic and the inability to understand how Des got caught in a puppy suit, was forgotten for amusement. Shadow seated the goblin once more on Des? shoulders.

Patch straightened up and loosely folded his arms across his torso and peered expectantly at the bogle.

?This had better be good,? Patch warned.

?Award winning,? Shadow agreed.

The dog settled and watched limpidly before a happy-dog smile heralded the hang of tongue. Teddy flailed momentarily before settling on the Borzois sloped shoulders. Licking his thumb, the goblin began to write. Actually, beautiful penmanship... for a bogle.

Finally, the pad was proffered back out with a chuff, Teddy tossed his round cattish head. It bounced back onto his neck okay, though.

Shadow leaned in to peer, also known as reading over one?s shoulder. Annoying, wasn?t it? Really hoped it wasn?t boglese, or whichever. Then Shadow paused -- Did the bogle do what she just thought she saw him do?

?Patch, you do the honors.? She was afraid to read it.

?Hmm,? Patch reached down and took the paper to read... English, and very nicely scribed... ?Dummy here insulted his supervisor, who happens to be a very powerful witch and in the midst of PMS. She?ll change him back after we get to work... Is this true, dum... eehhhh, Des??

Desdenova roooooed and hunkered under Patches gaze. Baaddddddd dog.

?All right, you?re off the hook,? Patch decided, peering evenly at the bogle and folding the paper up to stick it into his pocket. Shadow made a note to herself: Don?t visit Des at work. Ever.

The trouble was, it?s FUN harrassing his supervisor! The Borzoi hunkered more, and more, until he had his head on his paws, belly on the floor, butt up slightly though. Biggg sadddddd eeeeyyyeees. Teddy nattered and kicked at the Borzois? butt lightly before marching over to get the youths dispatch case.

?You do that well enough when you aren?t a dog,? Shadow murmured, petting Des?s head awkwardly. The next time she saw him, she?d offer him a Milk Bone.

Desdenova teethed on those, you know. They hold up better to baby drool than teething bicuits. That still didn?t explain a lot of things. And yet, some.

?Wrrf,? a few wags as the Borzois? head came up. There might be method to his bosses madness, actually. Into animal hide, the astronomer was a far more expressive creature. One just had to pay attention, closely, for such things, when he wasn?t a dog or cat. They were far more subtle in his usual form.

?Work, yes. I suspect you have to go to it eventually,? Shadow nodded. One of these days she hoped Des turned her into a newt. Revenge and all that.

Teddy clambered onto the Borzois? back once more, hanging onto both case and collar. The uttered words were alien, of course, but held the ?go walkies? Go walkies?!? inflection that sent the dog prancing gaily in a circle around Shadow and Patch. Paw-pats and affectionate licks with the whipping wag-tail.

Shadow ought to be frightened. Or babbling inconsolably somewhere. She?d spent too much time here, it seemed. A nod of her head gently, with a last ruffle of the d..Des?s ears.

?Yes, good morning to you, too. And no doubt you?ll see me soon. I expect to see you on two legs. Teddy, perhaps stop and get his supervisor some chocolate?? Always best, in such cases, to approach the ired PMSing witch with chocolate in hand.

?Have a pleasant ... walk,? Patch rumbled, giving the bogle one of those ?I?m still watching you...? glowers.

?Snok nrk,? ?No problem?, lazily grinned to Shadow, and the bogle eeled out his tongue at Patch. Fortunately, only instants before the Borzoi perked and took off like a shot towards the city.

The Moov. file came to a halt on the flight of the dog, and Desdenova, staring stupidly at his computer, abruptly smacked his face into his keyboard, scarlet from his hairline down.

Smirking sweetly, Matilde dropped a shoulder to his open office door frame.

?Did I tell you I developed a little spell to allow the recording orbs I use to trace and archive to transfer their data to Moov. files? It?s just they have to be entered on the network server. So everyone in the company can access them.?

(adapted from live play)

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 73, Eighteen Five

Oh, I guess I deserve it. What goes around comes around, and all that. And I do tease people a lot when I know they?ve got a new girl or boy friend. When they don?t blatantly repell me, and I guess sometimes even then, too.

Just the whole drowgraine thing I did with Cam means I?m going to hell, I know. I?m not trying to be mean or jealous or something, it?s just... well, I blush easily, and that?s the one time I can finally get back at some people.

Sometimes. But then I get it back!

Tyg was pretending to be all horrified because I?d gone dancing with Aurora, and we didn?t get back until dawn. I mean, we were just dancing. I wouldn?t ask someone to go out and then try to well I?ve never kissed anyone, on the lips, anyhow, so I guess it?s a moot point.

I just like to be with her, that?s enough to make me happy. And act stupid, evidently.

Well, they were all just teasing me. Tyg and Paige and a lot of the ladies. I don?t know if they were getting me back or thought it was cute, I guess some of both. It was funny.

Ace got all freaked out because they were teasing me, I guess. Like that was going to make me go gay or something. I don?t think very many people here realize that being gay isn?t a decision or a weapon. Then again, most think being gay means being really effeminate and swishy, too.

Anyhow, Rick asked me if the teasing bothered me, and said if it did, he?d put a stop to it. It doesn?t, and I guess I just was staring at him, he said something about Ace and them, and I was just... well... No. I mean, why would it? I tease people I care for all the time.

He took me up in the DC-3 finally, and well, I seized during takeoff. It?s a good thing he?s a good pilot, but he said he just locked the co-pilot controls and I couldn?t get the belt unlatched. It just really ...I was so exhausted, I couldn?t enjoy it as much.

But he let me fly it a little. I... wow. I mean, every move, and it?s this huge aircraft you?re controlling... It?s incredible. It?s loud, and the engines vibrations go right through you. So I gained altitude, and turned it, and then just flew level for a while.

Rick said straight and level flight was more important than anything else.

All you can see is the sky... Just the sky. If there wasn?t glass, you could reach up and touch it.

Then I was just a wreck. Scared, upset, nervous, angry, everything. I wanted this so much, and I seized before the stupid plane could even get off the ground. Story of my life.

Rick said don?t worry, it?s not like I?d never have another chance to go up, I remember, but I was pretty hysterical, I guess. That doesn?t usually happen around other people, and it just made it worse, I started thinking he?d call my doctor or an ambulance or just take me to the ER.

He didn?t, though. I know he sedated me, but I don?t know if he called for that, or if Teddy told him to or if he just figured that was best. I woke up at their house, anyhow, I felt like I?d been beaten flat.

I played with Elly because most everyone was busy. I sing to her, and she gurgles back. When I had my dulcimer, I played for her and she ?sang?, and I recorded that to give to Rick for Fathers Day, like it was from her. Well, it was.

I give things like that to my Dad, he really seems to like it a lot. I can?t play violin a bit as well as him, but when I?ve recorded my playing for him, he has the recordings near him all the time, listening to them, too. Even the silly recordings Alice, Jackie and I all made over time. I guess it?s a Dad thing.

I guess I?d like the silly ones, too. This year, I gave Dad the research we got on the manannaggals guts and toxins, though.

I?ve been trying to teach Elly to say ?Des rules, Sin drools?, but she just gurgles a lot and giggles. So I made a song of it. I can?t remember how old Alice was when she started talking, so I figure I better start now.

I apologised, because... Well. I don?t know if I was apologizing for making a fool of myself or making so much trouble. Rick just laughed a little and said it was all right. He understood. He told me why he has scars on his wrists and ankles.

It?s weird to think he knows what it?s like to be shackled.

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 74, Eighteen Five

I didn?t see Shadow soon after the whole dog thing, though. I still have the moov. file in my computer, I guess a lot of people do. There?s still people I don?t know that will walk by, and on seeing my ID badge, start woofing. It?s embarrassing, but funny.

When she started coming around after the whole ogre thing, I don?t know, I... Well, I?d never seen anyone like her there. It kind of gave me hope that there were people who I could talk to and flirt with and even go out with and they wouldn?t decide automatically I wanted to marry them or something. Mainly ?or something?.

I tried to ask her out one night, a while ago now. I was so embarrassed, though, and then I was angry, but... Well, I guess it doesn?t really matter. Now, or then, either.

Actually, I was just ...stunned, really. I tried to ask her, and she said oh, she was engaged to Simon. Simon! He?s old enough to be her father. He?s a stiff backed and ultra proper gentleman sort, I mean, he makes me look laid back.

He?s not what he seems for all he tries so hard. There?s things he does and says that just don?t add up to a man raised to and bred for the gentry. I guess Shadow had asked him to help her learn more, to get something of an education, and it got to be a lot more.

I remember it really kind of repelled me. It was more like he was grooming her. Otherwise, he?s all right, but he?s not someone you really ought to trust with a lot.

Anyhow, well, I tried to ask Shadow out and then, well... She didn?t seem to understand that it wasn?t right to date people while you?re engaged. I mean, it?s not like I was going to try anything, but that doesn?t matter. I think I just made her think I didn?t trust her all that much still.

I didn?t mean to, but I was so mortified, I don?t know how I managed to talk coherantly at all.

Feathyre really doesn?t like Simon, but I don?t really know why. She seems to feel he pretends she?s not there, because she?s a hippogriff, but... he does sometimes. I guess that?s it. He sometimes does seem not to see her.

There was another night, it was kind of weird. I was talking about Anna. Which I was doing a lot, just to shut Ace up and make him think I had a girlfriend. I was telling... someone, I don?t remember now, that Anna and I had been dancing down by the bridge, and Simon was suddenly all over it.

He gave me the strangest look, too. Before he started asking all these questions about Anna. He finally said ?ah? or something, and let it go. It was so creepy, I went and asked Anna if she knew him or something, or if pushed her out of the cart in the first place.

But Anna hadn?t ever seen him before, so I guess it was maybe he knew someone else named Anna. Who wasn?t supposed to be dead, I hope.

Well, anyhow, I think that was the last time I saw Shadow. When I was a dog that time. She was fine. I watch the moov. over and over sometimes, trying to figure out if there was anything different or wrong, and... She just seemed her normal self. She even said she?d see me again soon.

Then Simon took me aside and said Shadow had just vanished without a word or trace. A lot of people were trying to find her and everything, and I offered to help, too, if I could, but it seemed that it was all covered.

I worry about it. I mean, she?s human and doesn?t have anything, really, besides her own strength of will and soul, to defend her. That?s a lot, it?s a lot more than people realize. It?s kept more people alive in worse situations than anything else. It?s ...sad, I guess, that few seem to realize the worth of being ?just human?.

Maybe they would if they knew what had been before, but I doubt it. It?s like that line of Agatha Christies... That a dead herring shines, but it stinks.

Paige said later that Shadow had been on her own a long time, and she could take care of herself and all, and it was quite likely that she simply decided that everything she was getting into was more than she had intended or wanted.

That sounded right. I mean, she?d come wandering out of the woods like Columbine following the wrong song, and ...You know, it really was a lot like that. Columbine trying to find Harlequins? song and then confused by the mortals? song, and getting stuck where she wasn?t supposed to be.

I don?t know. Paige said that Shadow sometimes went off for long whiles, and she, meaning Paige, had a lot of contacts on the street, and none had seen her. That she probably needed to go look after her ?rats?. I guess she meant other street rats.

I just hope she gets back all right. People come and go around here so much, and sometimes, the ones that means things to you vanish, and then all you have left is the memory.

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 75, eighteen five

The other chemical I found in my desk was a primitive, nasty toxin with hypnotic properties. Along with the cocaine, which was in the typical seven per cent solution before it crystallized over time, it didn?t make a lot of sense.

At first, I just thought that maybe the mortician there was trying to make his own business. I talked to Dad about it, too, and he said, you know, particularly cholera has a comatose stage from which people often recover.

Meaning, a lot of cholera victims during epidemics were buried alive. Either in mass graves or in coffins. The age of everything in the house puts it before the 1860s, which is when mortuary science really took off. Civil War victims were often shipped back home, and the undertakers of the time struggled to try some form of embalming so the departed would arrive home at least recognizable.

Which was really only when there were available preservative supplies and the undertakers weren?t being pressed into service as field doctors. I can?t imagine what that must have been like. Such... horror. Real horror. Dad will sometimes mention seeing battlefields during World War Two, and even he will shake his head and mutter what a waste it was.

What he never talks about, though, is the slaughter house he ended up in. Just that the damn thing blew up, and he had it remade into a garden memorializing the people who had died there. Which ...I don?t know. It doesn?t seem like something Dad would do, but it does. Forgive, but never forget is the proverb, but Dad doesn?t forgive or forget some things.

Anyhow, the point being, a lot of cholera victims were actually still alive when they were buried. And coming to, if they were not in a grave, but in a sepulchre or tomb, the caretakers of the dead often freaked out as bad as the victim.

But, well, Dad?s had his share of the dead raising on the work table. He says it?s no skin off of his teeth, as long as the bill was already paid. Morticians don?t have a money back guarentee, after all. Dad said the second chemical may have been kept handy to make sure the dead stayed dead.

It seemed logical, but you know, if they are alive, then you have the fees, and later, you?d get it again when they really did pass away. Besides that, it was in the desk. I?d think it?d be in the work room.

I haven?t found the work room, honestly. It could be in the basement here, like ours is at home. There?s a few outbuildings here, one I?m pretty sure was a non denominational chapel, which I haven?t tried to get into. The green house, of course. An outhouse. The barn and carriage house, which I?ve only been able to get into the barn. They?re both about as big as each other, but the carriage house is lower, of course, and built onto the back of the barn.

Against the back wall are a pair of cottages, I guess, those were probably for servants. They?re both dilapitated, and I haven?t tried to get into them, either. I?m afraid they?re going to have to come down for all they seem to have been built as the same time and with the same materials as the main house. Their windows were open all this time.

I suppose they could be the work room and perhaps a veiwing room, after all, there isn?t one in the house, and there should be. But, then again, back then, veiwings were generally done in the home of the deceased.

Dad did point out that judging from the house -- estate, really -- that, damn, the mortician living here was wealthy. Any undertaker will make good money, but serving a small town, a lot of them had the proverbial day job. Even renting out their hearses as ambulances, which is why so many small town owned vintage hearses are painted in lighter colors, or are even white.

The town the cemetary served wasn?t that big, it?s gone, pretty much, now. Just a little hamlet of maybe one hundred and fifty, and they don?t really know this place is here at all anymore, except for a few fragments of boogie stories.

I can mark a few epidemics that went through the population by the death dates, but even the largest of those only put fifty into the ground. The ghosts aren?t much help about it, but I don?t expect them to be. It takes time between death and the lifting of the veil for them to become aware of what?s going on, and sometimes they never do.

So, perhaps the mortician was well off to begin with, and had this place built over the original caretakers home. You know, what I need to find is the oldest grave here. The map and records are so poorly kept and so disorginized, I don?t think they?re going to be much help.

This place reminds me more of a ?Boot Hill?, that is, a western cemetary, where a piece of waste land that was high and dry and not feeding groundwater into the town, was used to bury people. There wouldn?t be anything but the graves, sometimes a split rail fence. Western boom towns had widely diversified populations, usually, and if they were lucky, they had a church.

Usually, there were brothels before churches or holy people.

But when they had to bury someone, there weren?t any niceties of religion or color or cast, they all got buried in the same place out of necessity. No outside the fence because you didn?t have last rites, no whites only, no Potters field.

So maybe the town was like that, in which case, the oldest graves could be verging on prehistoric and been marked by stones later used to build the walls or cut for other tombstones. Then there?d be wood, which wouldn?t survive well, if at all. I?ve been watching for signs of where they could have been, sometimes the portion buried will remain.

In this climate, though, I?m afraid only stone would survive.

But... I don?t know. The toxin is nasty, it?s a sort of neurotoxin, and it could have caused paralysis, or could have killed. Very primitive, and I?m guessing that it?s more stable in its suspension now than it ever was when it was made.

I finally really got a good look at that block of ebony, and it?s just a block of ebony with something metallic embedded in its heart. Like the tree grew around a key or a piece of jewelry or something. Matilde said that she?d heard of particularly alchemists taking blocks of rock or wood or what have you, and using some formulae or another to embed within it things that they want to keep safe or hidden, but it wasn?t that widespread a practice.

There isn?t a spell to open or close the case, it?s a matter of returning it to the same formulae to make it porous enough to fetch out what you?ve hidden. I can?t find a spell on this, anyhow, and well, it was pretty well hidden.

I don?t know.

Cam found the most amazing ruby and pea

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 76, Eighteen Five

Irina... I don?t know. The first time I met her, she seemed really neat. Like the other girl, Cass. I really was hoping both would hang around more. But they didn?t.

I remember talking to her, and... well, she had a boyfriend. So did Cass. Which always just annoys me no end. It?s like there?s this ...welcome wagon of guys who are just waiting on the outskirts of RhyDin ready to run in and suck any ?new? girl they see into an instant relationship.

And, of course, they promptly vanish after doing that. But you can?t point that out to these girls, because they?re going to deny vehemently that it happened to them. They?re trusting their feelings and following their souls and...

Why does a perfectly intelligent young woman turn into an utter cheese brain at the sight of a potential engagement ring?

I mean... Okay, now, I guess I understand some, but... it?s been so much more fun to just... see Aurora when I see her and ...well, moon around like a moron when I don?t.

Then again, Aurora?s not pushing or pressing me for anything, she?s not making me feel like if I don?t declare intentions now, she?s going to move on for someone that will.

I don?t think Aurora would be half as interesting if she did act like that. It wouldn?t matter, there just isn?t anything I could do about it. I?d have I?d have to b I?d have to say okay, move on.

I guess I wouldn?t like it at all if she said she was going to go out this weekend with someone else, but if she does, she doesn?t say that. I wouldn?t, either, that?d be rude. It?s not my business if she does.

Jackie dates one guy for fun, wacky parties, another guy to go to cultural events with, another to go surfing or skiing with, and all, she?s got a different guy for every mood, almost, and even though they?re all a lot more secure and mature than the guys around here, she still doesn?t make a point of telling them about each other. Though they do the same thing.

But for whatever reason, the only person I?ve ever heard doing that here is my mother. Before she picked Dad.

I like Irina, but she just... Ugh. She has an inborn mage ability, it?s not really like mine, but it?s related. It?s more wild magic trying to be tamed than sit down and learn spells and either have aptitude or not. More fae-like.

I brought her some vegetarian recipes, because her boyfriend is a vegetarian. She?s really touchy sometimes. She gets really threatened if you say anything negative about her boyfriend at all.

She had this ...enormous meltdown one night, and I was just... Well, as it turned out, she was hearing Tyg, Nathanial, and a few others speaking of women who allow themselves to be victims, and she ...seemed to think they were speaking of her.

I didn?t know why. She finally told me her boyfriend had been killed. Which no one else knew. I wonder if she got so offended because she was hearing herself and denying it.

The people she fell in with are just going to keep repeating that cycle. I?ve watched them almost a year before she met them, and they do that. Meet, love, vanish, dead. Sometimes return from the grave and condemn the love for moving on, get a new lover, usually gay, vanish, die. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I guess she?ll just have to see for herself, but she?s just... I don?t know. She likes all that drama. She?s a comic book artist, so I suppose it?s a natural for her, to be able to live that ?big? as it were.

It?d be nice if she was less of that. She really is nice, and interesting. But she?ll just end up burnt out and struggling to pretend she?s not. You can?t save or even help some people.

[Desdenova]

Journal Entry 77, Eighteen Five

I had Alice stay with me over the weekend, so I finally set up my computer because she was going to PERISH if she didn?t have her Zoo Tycoon there to play on. Which, of course, she didn?t touch the whole time she was here.

At least I got that stupid laptop set up, I connected to the Four Winds network, which will let me work from wherever I happen to be. I just prefer to go into the office, because all I can really do is enter data and do reports and such otherwise.

She was all over the place, I had Flinx running shotgun on her, and I think she actually wore that poor shadow dragon out. I took her to meet the Halliburtons menagerie, she vanished into that fray, then she had tea with Dame Arlene and I. Well, dinner, really, but Dame Arlene recieved us in her little parlor, which was dazzling enough; and to Alices? eyes, it was a fairy tale castles? main dining room.

Mine, too, honestly.

So, a real butler served us on these tiny dishes, salad, soup, filet mignon and steak fries... It took me a while to realize he was using Dame Arlenes? childhood china play set. Oh, she was so lit up. Dame Arlene and Alice, both. I started getting all teary eyed. Because she got to play with her tea-set again.

I?m such a sap.

Then Dame Arlene had us ride in her old Cord, so her chauffuer could drive, and I love her to pieces, I really do, but I was so glad the chauffuer was driving. Alice was just... Well, she called Mom and Dad the moment we got home to tell them she had tea with her fairy godmother. I promised Alice I?d take her back. It was more like promising Dame Arlene, she seemed so happy to have Alice there.

I kind of wonder if she is. If Dame Arlene is Alices? fairy godmother.

Well. We did work the next day, Alice went around to pull weeds, and of course, any weed that had flowers, she not only did not pull, but she collected the seeds of and scattered around even more. I got her to make her wildflower ?garden? towards the back wall, where Anna?s buried, so I would have half a chance of restoring the original gardens.

I got a bunch of chickens, hopefully, they?ll get the weeds. That was kind of funny. I was walking to the observatory, and I went through Wolsons Hole. Out of the blue, one of the men came running past me like the devil was on his heels.

So, I looked back, and had to hit the dirt when I heard gunfire. I figured Brother Cousin had been at a cousin he shouldna oughta. Sure enough, he had a plenty mad woman chasing him. She was riding a bicycle. And shooting at him.

She probably would have gone faster running, but I wasn?t going to suggest this to her. She was drunk and stoned out of her mind.

As it turned out, he ran right home to Mama. Mama came out, clobbered the hell out of her erring son and marched into the back of the shanty and came stomping out to thrust a cage of hens at the woman on the bike.

This was, apparantly, her sons dowry. Mama wasn?t giving such a fine dowry to the little slut-cousin sonny boy was cheating with, so the woman on the bike got the chickens, but not the son. The slut-cousin could have the son, but not the chickens.

But the virtuous-cousin on the bike was a good and proper lady, she didn?t want anything to do with any of them now. So, cussing up a storm, Mama marched over to me while I was trying to slink by and shoves the cage in my arms.

This apparantly restored honor all around.

And I had eight scroungy hens. Angel brought me a rooster the next day, I was so overjoyed. I stuck a muffler whistle in his tailpipe to get even.

Anyhow, I was working on one of the crypts. Patch came by and helped me with that one, it was dug in as a sort of psuedo-catacomb, with a limestone face and walkway below ground level. Over time, the walkway filled with dirt and debris, and had to be dug out again.

There?s a line of those. I?m slowly getting their porch spaces, as it were, cleared, but they?re sunk six feet down and they haven?t been maintained in decades if not longer. I?ve seen these sorts of tombs before, but they?re still rather rare, and usually are to emulate church or city catacombs.

Patch got the door off for me, too. It?s a family tomb, of course, but the last seal looked like it?d been pressed twice. It was really nicely done, it?s a limestone barrel vault and the gypsum plaster over the bricks was painted in a rather Eutruscan manner, but with pastorial scenes of heaven.

Patch is incredibly intelligent, and I think it?s a lot like Dad, where the patchwork of individuals making up the whole contribute their experience and wisdom into the whole. His aura is a lot like Dads?, anyhow. Well, Patch suggested that they weren?t earlier Christians, as I assumed, but perhaps were late Eutruscans, who civilized considerably after the rise of Roma and remained well into the Christian era, adopting the customs they preferred from the incoming Romans, Greeks, and Arabic peoples.

His point being that there were male and female figures shown together in Grecian peplos, and other than the typical ray-style halos, no real early Christian imagery.

So, these may be the original graves. But they seemed to have either been in use all that time, or the original deceased were removed and the crypts reused.

This one, though, was incredible. The seal was perfect from its last entombment, the gypsum was open and porous enough to absorb and wick off moisture to the limestone, and the bodies had mummified.

The eldest aren?t in as good a shape, of course, since the tomb was opened and closed periodically over time, but still. I was absolutely thrilled. I threw a preservation spell over it entire, and got to work.

When I find bodies like this, I take them to work so they can be studied and recorded and cleaned and all, but I bring them back once their burial place is repaired and cleaned. It?s wrong to remove any of them from their rest, unless it?s necessary, and then they should be reburied as best one can to their customs.

Only a few were in actual coffins, several were on shelves. I reached over to lift one, and ...It was really easy to move. Because I had stuck my hand clean through a knife left in the body! I just stood there staring at it the longest time, and Patch says, politely, ?I think we?d better have that looked at.?

So, we went to the ER, and the doctor had an utter conniption fit, but it was fine. It didn?t hit any bone or tendon, and we brought the knife -- left it in until the doctor saw me, in fact. It was clean.

A strange little mystery, really. The man, by his clothing, was well off, but not in his Sunday best, which the rest were buried wearing. He had all of his personal effects, including a pipe and tobacco. And a ?honey-dew? list, which I can?t think anyone would be buried with. There?s no way he can ?stop by and leave a card for Dear Old Mrs. Cook?.

The list did ask that he stop by Mercy Dale and speak to ?Jeoff? about getting that ?dreary ivy away from Mamas grave?.

Forensics took custody of that mummy, they?re borrowing him for their law enforcement training. They said, surprise, he was stabbed in the back to the heart, and was probably the cause of the doubled seal mark. ?Jeoff? is a suspect, of course. I think Jeoff is buried in the main grounds, in any case, there is a ?Jeoff Whitherburn? buried there.

Which just makes more questions. Was Jeoff the caretaker of the grounds and the owner of the house? Did he work for the owner? He couldn?t have been the mortician. It had to be about the same time as the house was originally abandoned, judging from the deceaseds? clothing.

But, Patch cleared out that line of sunken tombs for me. That?s a huge help. He asked if I wanted the big capstone on the first removed, it?s an actual capstone of tan basalt. I said no, though, because there?s things carved on it I can?t decyper. They?re faint, but there.

It would be a bad idea to remove it until I know for sure what they mean.