Stranger Tides

You think I’ll cry?

I won’t cry.

My heart will break before I’ll cry.

I will go mad…

The street was damp and dirty, the cobblestones still slick with the recent rain and the woman cowered to maintain body heat amongst the chill in the air. Only spring and still to the pale redhead the breeze felt similar to the beacon of winter’s first frost. Her teeth chattered as she scrubbed at her shivering limbs and stared bleakly at the tiny fissures of moonlight that dared to sever the shadows of the alley. She sought the solace of the shadows as if the dark itself could ease away the bleak nature of her spirit. The redhead believed once that there had been such a glorious smoldering of brightness to her spirit but now she was but a candle before being snuffed out. Dying Light.



The emerald of her eyes went wild in their rampant search for some sort of salvation from the shadows but none would come, no savior surfaced from the darkness despite her whispered chant. The words she whispered incoherent as the chill to her bones left the words stumbling from her lips.



Finally she stood with shoulders slumped as she looked back the way she came. They would come for her, after all they had made certain she would leave a path. Her eyes trailed down one pale arm where the blood dripped its rivulets and the woman managed a bittersweet smile as the words she spoke then became more coherent.



“Aye, better then breadcrumbs any bloody day.”



What had been, what had happened was beyond her recollection. Her name, her past nothing but shades and shadows. Still she knew the familiarity of the cuts on her arms like a lover’s kiss. The razor sharp slices that had left her to bleed for them… and when she had bleed far too much the poor mess of attempts to stitch her up.



She felt nothing more than a doll, a patchwork creation. Through all the stitched and razor blade destruction of her skin she still felt as if someone was pulling her strings. No better than a puppet. No… a Poppet.



“Poppet.”



The redhead tested the name on her tongue. It felt strange and foreign and yet it would suit her. It would do for now. She took off running into the night trailing another dream as tangible to her as ribbons of green and ebon in the moonlight.

A Red Sky Morning. Chance didn’t need to be a seafarer to know the omen born promise to the waking rays of dawn as she looked out upon the sea. Her boot hit the boards of the dock with a rhythmic tap as she folded her arms across her chest and stared out at the endless blue.



“Pretty ain’t it?”



The rough smoke of Cinna’s voice held its constant sardonic edge as she smirked around the cigarette dangling from the edge of her lip. A brow arched in question as she nudged the Fox who merely shook her head.



“Means nae bloody good is whut it means.”

“So you think…”

“Muh instincts have nevah been bloody wrong.”

“Mm…yet.”



The lack of a far from dainty snort escaped the Sea Fox as she turned away from her first mate and headed down the dock towards her ship. It didn’t take long for the red sky morning to live up the superstitious nature of the seafarer’s that believed the messages in the hue of the sky. The shouts exploding from a spot near her ship had her steps turning into a full run. It was easy to tell by the smooth resonation of boots behind her that Cinna was in quick pursuit.



“What in sam hell is going on?”

“Donnae bloody know but ah’m about tae find out.”



A crowd of the usual outlandish, roughed up sorts that dwelled on the docks had gathered around what seemed nothing more than a tangled heap of clothing. It took time but with a few glares and elbow shoves Chance managed to make her way through the mass to stand directly before what at first sight seemed nothing more than the tattered ruins of someone’s left over attire.



“Holy…”

“Not now, Cinna”



Surprisingly enough the woman held her tongue as she coughed around her words. The remaining ember of Cinna’s cigarette was dropped to the docks left to be stamped out by a firm boot. For a moment the Sea Fox questioned her choice of electing a shape-shifting demon in the place of first mate, but upon considering her past company… well it just seemed fitting.



The thought itself was pushed aside as she crouched down to the cause of such disturbance upon the docks. A few brushes of her hand against the fabric gave Chance enough evidence to match her assumptions. It was a woman. Not just any woman either judging by the moon pale of limbs and the radiant shade of red hair. A hue of red that ever would compete and succeed the brilliant fire gold of Lilia McGlory’s own goddess blessed mane. These were the strands of hair that had given a certain woman the nickname of the Red Maned Glory amongst the seafarers.



“It’s Rummington..”

“That’s the infamous Rummington? She doesn’t look like much.”



Already Cinna was breathing out a dismissive snort and beginning to walk away. Cinna had no reason to stay when it was obvious that the woman on the docks was surely not the legendary Red Mane. It couldn’t be. Not that stitched, broken creature that was well… mortal. Mortal. Cinna didn’t know much but even the demons below knew well that the legends above and born of the sea were rarely mortal creatures.



One thing Cinna knew for damn sure was that Rummington “Rummy” McFerran was no human. Far from it. A Goddess Incarnate of the Shining Court last time word had come to the demons below. Even an earth bound, light born Demon knew that. It wasn’t just arrogance that would leave Cinna to abandon the possible assumption that … that… girl… could be the one and the same.



“Cinna… ye need tae get Rona fer me. Someone ‘as done somethin’ tae Rummy”

“Gee ya think? Shocking notion. I never would have thought that when the presumed Chosen of the Goddess herself is a human girl.”



The low growl that came from Chance as she narrowed her eyes at her first mate proved that the Sea Fox was far from playing around. Cinna sighed and shook her head as she waved a dismissive hand.



“I’m on it. Listen for the jingly bells of my nonexistent cat collar as I head off to retrieve your dear friend…”



Anything else spoken by the light born demon was dismissed by Chance as she directed one of the bystanders to gather up the girl they once had known as Rummy. One thing Chance knew for sure… when Rummy awakened she would surely not wish to wake up on the docks.

Poppet dreamed. In her dreams there were blurs and blotches of color, brilliant hues and shades of red plastered against the pallor white of moon lit cobblestones.



The ink black of the shadows seemed ever so anxious, distraught and wrought with severe emotions. Those shadows cut through her spirit like a knife and soundless she screamed out. A cry in the darkness from mute lips.



In the dreamscape she struggled against the binds that held her, draining her life as she wept blood streaked tears and whispered his name like the chant of old.



Old remedies and wishes. How many nights had she spent ducking into the sanctity of shadows, finding sanctuary in the alleyways and the dead forest if only to seek and wait for him.



So many times she had waited to steal if not an hour than perhaps only a moment of peace within his embrace. Love in the darkness best kept secret. He was near a ghost to her, sometimes she questioned his very existence.



To ask though if he was real was to question the illusion of her own life. Were they not both fables breathed to live and thrive far past the ivory and ebon of papyrus and ink?



In her dreams she screamed out for him till her throat went raw with her anguish and longing.



It was in her waking that the world changed again.



The eyes of Pet opened to find a new world waiting. The dream shattered to leave Pet feeling a stranger in her own skin. Her breath breathed out into a growl as she skittered backward to press her skin towards the headboard of the bed she had found her resting place within.



Pet was no sleeping beauty.



Far from it.



Quick, savage eyes darted about the room before setting upon the male resting in the chair by the window. Pet gripped at the sheets to gather about her skin as a startled gasp was released in a hiss of shock. The stitched up patchwork of her own pale flesh left her shivering with distraught torment.



A bit more she felt the patterns and pieces of her mind cracking and shattering. Pet searched her thoughts for acknowledgment and recognition of the stranger but found he was unknown to her. He was far too bright and smooth to be her Shadow Man.



Pet had no choice. She had to act swiftly if she wished to escape.



Before her captor had a chance or a choice, Pet gathered up the sheet about herself and dashed for the open window. She leapt without thought praying that despite the four story drop she would land safely…

Whispers... so familiar
Are you there?
Are you there?

In her dreams there were a thousand lights so brilliant to set the night sky on fire with blinding radiance. Prymm looked upon the city with eyes promising enchantment as her gaze lifted towards the skyline. The skyline existed with so many marks and imperfections, the horizon left in severed ribbons of azure and violet by the skyscrapers that cut like silver knives.

The beauty of her surroundings haunted her but Prymm was pulled more into the haunted whispers of her mind that beckoned. Ever did they beckon. She followed along obediently, a slave to her own tarnished memories.

From the Light she left to enter what she wished to know more. The Darkness.

Within the Darkness the shadows enveloped and embraced her, their touch as soothing and comforting as a warm blanket. Without protest she felt the instinctive need to fight slowly drain away from her spirit.

In that moment of utter submission to her heart, he returned.

He was there before she knew it, a shadow cast presence of pale darkness that she knew as easily as she knew her own spirit. She touched him before he could protest or flee, he was so fleeting in her life gone for so long, leaving only patterns in her mind of bliss dark memories.

Her palm grazed his jaw and before her hand could retreat his lips were upon her palm and tracing the lines of her fingers. The sensation left her breathless until he in that moment took her breath away.

Against the dirt smudged wall was she pressed as his mouth covered hers. The smoky sweetness of nicotine and memories was upon her lips as he kissed her and she closed her eyes again, wishing for it to be a moment stopped in time.

Her arms surrounded him and with a severed kiss they held each other, drawing in breath with hearts beating in tandem. His eyes searched every inch of her, noting the blood and stitches. He never spoke in that moment but the emotions in his eyes could never be read. Not at that moment, never before.

"Please don't ever leave again..."

A whisper, a plea. The tears pierced and pricked at her lashes but dared never to follow. Even in her loss she dared not to cry, never show a weakness. That much she recalled.

Perhaps she requested too much for already he was fading into the shadows before she could speak his name. Prymm parted her lips to shout his name out but instead all that came out was the shaky gasp of longing. She was left once more with nothing more than the constant hollow point of loss. Always. Alone again...
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Her face was smudged with dirt trails where the tears had smudged her dirty complexion. Pet blinked up at her surroundings as she awakened from the dream to find herself once more in the alley she had escaped to. She knew if she took the steps out of the alley the shining city would not be there. Only in her dreams and maybe in her distant memories would that place exist.

She knew more now than ever she needed to leave this place. Escape. If only to find him again.

The pristine white of the bed sheet after the hours in the night had become beige with dirt and mud. Pet did what she could with it to manage it into a simple pattern of a dress. Her pale hands smoothed through the ash smudged strands of her red hair. Strangely the realization that her hands still remained untouched of stain brought a soft smile to her lips.

Pet breathed in, eyes widened as her senses were filled again with that ashy sweetness of his presence even as the bittersweet aroma already was fading. Pet took off running again knowing she couldn't give up the search. Once more she was oblivious to the silver stained rose petals that decorated the cobblestones admist the blood and the ash...

Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in

As much as she was weary of the light, she was becoming as easily frustrated with the shadows. Poppet frowned upon the waves that sought to lick and lap at her feet as she took a step back from them. The waves reminded her of faithful pets and the faded possibility of that memory seemed foolish. Was she not just a girl? Only a simple girl.



Really it was only in dreams that she felt something more. When she was with Him.



The mere thought of him trespassing in her mind brought her fingers to her lips. If she concentrated she swore the ash sweet aroma still permeated the air around her. The scent of him clung to her flesh, leaving her to rub her arms with her hands. She wanted the feeling of him to remain as long as it would.



Poppet’s eyes flickered away from the waves and the docks to travel far past her sight to the city she knew existed beyond the sea-faring habitat. She couldn’t help but frown as she realized that she had to return to a city that was just a smudged imprint of her thoughts.



A close of eyes, a glimpse of the past as clear as shattered glass and broken hearts.



“He doesn’t love you, you know. Only I do… it only will be me.”

“How can I know that when you only love me in the shadows…never the light.”

“It is the only place where I can be myself… where I belong with you.”

“Always?”

“Yes, Always. Only you will possess the love of Darkness.”

“And you of the Light. You must know that… only you.”



Poppet shook her head, wiping the tears away that were stinging her eyes. Those broken memories were shattering her soul with each and every shard of thoughts that came back to her. Of who she used to be, who she was to become, and of the man that haunted her every waking moment to every fading dream.



Resigned and weary, Poppet tugged absently at the collar of the makeshift dress she had managed to forge out of the bed sheet. If she was planning to go city bound, she would need a change of clothes.

I'll find the falling star
I'll fall In love with the eyes of a dreamer
And then a dream worth believing

The cottage existed only a few blocks away from the tavern that seemed to call to her with the silent plague of memories. No not the tavern... the alleyway. The old woman had appeared as if by magic on the cobblestone road when Pet took the first curious steps towards the alleyway.

She had been there ever since, the old woman's cottage had become her new home. Pet could only appreciate and admire the hospitality that the old woman had shown to her even as she could not shake the feeling of being kept prisoner.

"Like Rapunzel..."

A whisper that brought a smile to her lips. Her fingers combed through the fireblood of her hair as she tested the strands. No they were never long enough, never strong enough to allow a prince to come and save her. As comfortable as she felt here, Pet could not help but feel the constant sense of longing. It was nothing more then torment that she could look out the window and see the alleyway. The alleyway she was starting to feel like she... remembered.

Her thoughts were interuppted by the creaking whine of the door as the old woman stepped inside.

"Dearie, it is time again to treat your wounds. I brought the salve you are so fond of."

The shattered blue eyes of Pet blinked curiously to the old woman as she held out her arms for examination. Skin as pale as moonstone flawed only by the scars was exposed to the old woman's sight as she clucked in approval at the healing of Pet's wounds.

"It seems that whoever took the razors to you took the time to stitch you up. Curious thing that, they cared enough for this crude stitching job yet still left you to bleed."

Even as the old woman continued the words would fall on deaf ears as the keen shine of Prymm's bright emerald eyes shone through the shattered blue of Pet's eyes. Aware. Something of familiarity ignited within her. Stitches.

Razors.

The words pieced together to awaken the memory again. "What...what did you say?" Prymm's words were demanding as the power so many tried to stifle and extinguish began to lick upon her skin.

"Where... where is he?!? What have you done?!?"