Category Archives: 0217
“She h’ain’t coming!” So shrill and trilling for a chicken, who usually wax eloquently when they have that talking device inserted down their throats. But Toothpick knew what happened; voice matches emotions of the moment. He figured Elberta ran off with that [delete name] boy Jimmy John Jones who she’s been going on about for months now. She’s bucking tradition in more ways that one. So she sent her messenger chick. The coward. He’d understand. He didn’t want to see her that way neither. This was his sister for God durn sake. His *twin*. He begins to think of running away himself. Maybe he’ll just follow her and Jimmy to wherever they went. That’ll teach ’em. He would have understood. He h’ain’t no looker like Jimmy. Everything will be safe and above board. He always liked Jimmy anyway. Despite the, um, well…
“We’ll have to order you a new part from Black Ice. I think it’s down in the belt section.”
“You’ll get use…”
Duncan Avocado kept shaking his head. He wasn’t going to budge on this. Pot-D can do whatever they like to him in return. Send him back to Dixie for all he cares. Then the memories flood back, the Slave-up vending machine, etc. Two months is a long *long* time down there (in Hell). He doesn’t want to relive that pain, even from a safe distance. He forces himself to come back to the present. He fondles his skeleton heart necklace, the one Buster gave him almost two years ago now. He reconsiders.
Buster Damm senses the change of heart and sweetens the package. “Elberta is a *looker*. You’ll get use to the hick ways. And they’re not really from the Deep South anyway, Mississippi and all. They’re from the very southern part of Black Ice where we use to have the Boos and Bogota…”
Duncan was nodding his head now. He’d given in. To whatever they had in mind. Mention of The River sealed it.
“No three word name. One, or, at best, two.” He spits in his hand. Buster spits in his. They shake.
“I may never go back to Mainland, Hucka Doobie. I like it here. I have Bake’s Bakery now. Like it was meant to be.”
“What about Cassandra City?” asked Hucka Doobie logically. “What of NWES City? It appears you need Mainland still.” She wiped her highlighted nose with her sleeve. Always forgetting her handkerchief these days, arrgh! Stupid nose.
“Both, then.” Like vending machine salesman Appleyon was both a new friend and an old old enemy, he thought to himself.
“Baker, you’ll have to excuse me,” Hucka Doobie blurted with this, stifling an urge to snort. “I have to go somewhere and blow my nose!”
Afterwards, The Arab took Baker Bloch on a walk through the local vineyards to try to cheer him up. He knew, because of the new outbreaks, that he’d most likely never make it out of Corsica alive. He was *stuck*.
Eventually he was able to steer the conversation back to Peakology and a positive outcome.
Kind Of Messed Up 02 stared at the picture, knowing this had all happened before. A negotiation.
“$50,000 for the lot of it,” Messed Up offered for her cafe, her house on the water, heck the whole kitten caboodle, along with her not quite as messed up kitty kat who Prof. Young Harris had nicknamed Leo for some reason. Perhaps the effect of the 4 Corona-V brewskies he downed before leaving Joan/Astrid back at the New York university sim-island to the northwest, another in the cluster of Weird-o Islands as history will call them. Like Stranger Creek here. Like Abbey up in the air where David A.B. lives, who seems to be the same as God in our current story or a close approximate. And then the NY isle to finish, upper state style. No Arthur Kill involved here, nor his Staten Island. He has been eliminated from this region by another local named Illuminatus, who we’ll revisit with later. Because, yes, Prof. Young Harris was charged with buying the island for upwards of 50,000 linden dollars, which Messed Up just offered. He couldn’t talk her down for some reason despite his savvy salesmanship — perhaps, he reasons, she was secretly in on the deal all along as well, and had forewarning of his visit. Or maybe they were just in total sync with each other. Because they also found themselves married 5 years down the road, after Messed Up had been basically cured of her confused look status and come into proper focus. Kind of Messed Up 02, renamed Leo from this point on, was with them until the last. A Happy Ending.
David A.B. reads Young Harris’ report up in Abbey and sees it is good. He can rest for a while.
For the child, Great Mother of Vampires asked a high price. “Let me have the lives of the remaining werewolves in town. Let my vampire brood feast on their flesh and blood.” Rebl looked over at Ben Wolf, who nodded, a look of surprising calm in his eyes. “We agree,” the cat-being lawyer answered back. Ben turned to the Great Mother and studied her ancient figure. He knew this was the only way to save his Irish Lass. What was her name again, darnit? Oh yes: Phyllis — the only way to save Phyllis. The pack would kill her otherwise. Unless it was the pack being killed. No other way.
“Then I turn over the child to the Cat-Witch here.” Great Mother eyed Cat-Witch loathingly again. So young! she thinks while imagining her own skin turning to dust. “We will not speak of the matter further.” She got up wobblingly, grabbed her cane, and hobbled out of the room down the hall to the secret elevator that would whisk her back to her parlor. Ben returned to his bar to prepare for the slaughter he knew was coming. He’d made his peace with The Lord. In fact, The Lord (me) told him to do all these things, to allow the vampires to take complete control now. “Fate”, I called down to him. “Bena must shift into a new era, with no Wolves or wolves allowed. That means *you*.” He had seen the light on this particular Corsica summit — Moork I think it was again. He descended back into town to tell Rebl to go through with the prearranged deal.
What of this child, though, this Katy Kidd? All we know now is that she will live to see another day in another section.
“Ahh. *There* she is, Rules of Rose. Hitting the tracks again.” She tries to call over once more, a little softer than before, knowing the futility of it. “Tessa. Tessa, honey. It’s me. Your Aunt Ruby.”
“She still can’t see or hear you,” states elven fairy Rules of Rose beside her. “It’s — different over here.”
Ruby Fantasie folds her hands over her lap, leaning back. “I know.” She sighs.
“It’s because of me.” Rules of Rose puts her hands to her eyes, beginning to cry (again). “I’m so sorry *sob*”.
Tessa makes her way back into the heart of the cave system, seeing/hearing nothing.
Tom Bean was a mysterious character that showed up in Grayson County one day – having just traded his horse and pistol for a wagon with a yoke of oxen carrying a barrel of whiskey. He had everything needed to open a saloon and so he did – naming it the White Elephant for what he considered his end of the trade…. According to one source he had one blue and one brown eye.
“Thank you for the eyes.”
Cherry Island (Scottish Gaelic: Eilean Muireach, meaning Murdoch’s Island) is the only island in Loch Ness, Highland, Scotland, and is an example of a crannog. The island is about 150 yards (140 m) from the shore near the southern end of the loch. The island was originally 160 feet (49 m) by 168 feet (51 m) across, but is now smaller as the level of the loch was raised when it became part of the Caledonian Canal. The increase in the level of the loch caused a smaller natural island nearby, Eilean Nan Con (also known in its Anglicised form of “Dog Island”), to be totally submerged.
A castle stood on the island during the 15th century; this was constructed of stone and oak wood and was probably used as a fortified refuge. It has been suggested that Eilean Muireach may have been a hunting lodge, with Eilean Nan Con the home for the hunting dogs.
“*Now* is the time, Sidechick.”