The Elektrichka Arrived on Time (II)SCENE: A room at the ******** Hospital in Moscow.
Sunlight strains and filters on occasion through the overcast sky, as lighting through the single but wide window in the room.
An austere hospital bed, white-framed and barred, beds a tall, well-built man. The covers are pulled up his chin, and his eyes flicker with considerable strain to open against the sting of light.
Sitting drowsily on a wooden chair beside the bed, is an equally tall, well-built, but more sleek and slender looking man in a uniform. His cap rests jauntily on his knee as he dozes off, waiting for his friend to wake from a much-needed sleep after an operation.
The man in bed is Andrei, while the man seated by his bedside is his friend, Mirka (Miron Kozmovich Koschevoi).
Mirka looks at Andrei with concern and a bit of curiosity, wondering what Andrei thinks of the whole situation. He feels and knows that his old friend is impatient to get this over with as soon as possible
ExperimentThere was a buzzing sound in my ears.
Behind me in the sitting room, my family was busy pretending to stare anywhere but at me.
"Why would she leave?" Mor, ever inquisitive, wondered out loud, "I thought - I thought she was HAPPY here."
"That's what we all thought," my High Lady replied from the corner seat, "looks like we were wrong."
Nesta, thank the Mother, remained silent. I had no wish to get into a brawl with her over her treatment of the girl. Was that why she had left?
Or was there another reason, closer to home?
A hand on my arm caused me to turn my head slightly.
Cassian looked worried.
"You're shadowing, brother. Stay with us."
I hadn't even realized I'd started to dissolve away, and gave him a curt nod; Rhysand kept his all-seeing eyes on me, but spoke to the room at large:
"She was never captive. If she chose, she could leave, and we have no right to judge."
Choice. Everything was always a choice; EVERYONE got a choice. But I had thought, seeing her adapt, hearing her laug
Mitya (I)I often wondered how it would be like for a parent to lose a child. Specifically, how would it be like for a parent to witness his progeny’s brutal death? Not a valiant death like they like to talk about in propaganda, mind you—just a brutal, simple death illustrating the Hobbesian adage that life was nasty, brutish and short.
Why was I thinking this as I looked over the booklet they had given me about Turkestan? It was worthless, nothing more than a glorified tourist guide. I had learned nothing about it was like to actually engage in battle in Turkestan, nothing at all, only that Turkestanis were ‘violent’ and ‘angry’ at us Communists for disrupting their centuries of ‘bourgeois’ dynastic rule. They were a simple people, as my father and superiors had told me time and time again, primitive tribesmen who were motivated by religious beliefs to attack, torture, and humiliate us. Their weapons were woefully basic and they were
Relative Illusion - Part SixteenLee returned to the penthouse in a remarkably good mood, humming to himself as he sat on the couch and typed. Sara stayed and spoke to Yule in the study about what she had learned and observed about her nephew, then agreed to stay for dinner. Yule went in to check on Lee and was surprised when Michael came through the door, home much earlier than Yule anticipated. An exchange of glances told Yule that his persistence had paid off, Michael had the look of a man with mission as he sat down across from Lee. Yule noted that Michael’s eyes were also strangely glassy, a sure sign that he’d been hit with a magical whammy and was still dealing with processing what had happened. Yule gave the two space and went to continue his conversation with his daughter. Ari, however, decided to go get something out of the kitchen and stayed there, listening in.
Michael cleared his throat, trying to come up with a good way to start a conversation. “So, what have you been working on lately?
RampartsStone walls crumble
the ocean's fury.
You watch as I stare
into the horizon.
The ramparts broken,
you pick up the trowel,
calling my name,
whispering sweet nothings.
Like fairies and imps,
dancing on the wind,
the magic engulf me.
The flames burn hot,
for a moment.
Passion and praises,
served in crystal goblets,
quench only the superficial...
Battles rage on barren wastelands.
You gently lead me
to hallowed ground.
"Evermore," the swallow sings,
it's song drowning out
the roar of the sea.
I take the trowel,
our fingers intertwining.
Now and forever...
WatershedMy fingers press against
the window pane.
Icy coldness in
the burning sun.
I am blind,
but I can see.
lie in ruin.
Mighty ships crashed
upon the shore.
by dawn's new light.
The torch passed
to slender hands.
I close my eyes,
but I can see.
Words float like ravens
upon the gentle wind.
Torn apart by wolves
and stark reality.
"Fairy tales don't exist..."
My crown crumbles,
set upon another's head.
"Come with me."
I take her hand.
That fine mistress,
Whispers sweet nothings
as the ramparts falls.
"I love you. I hate you."
... I love you.
Poison sweet upon the lips
Quenching the thirst
as it destroys
The book closes,
the inkwell dry.
...but I can see.
Relative Illusion - Part FifteenBlack Torrent strode into the Control Center looking agitated as he pulled off his cowl and grabbed the TV remote. “Someone want to explain this to me?”
The TV popped to life on its normal channel, following the local news. The report was about how Black Torrent and the team had thwarted an armed group of thugs holding people hostage after a botched bank robbery.
Overcast looked perplexed, “That’s not right . . .”
“I would hope not, since I wasn’t even there! Was someone dressed as Black Torrent while I was off looking for Carnie Kid? I’m pretty sure I’m not capable of being in two places at once, and I know I’d remember striding into a bank and lugging a couple of unconscious armed men out over my shoulders!” He glanced over at Yule accusingly.
“Don’t look at me, I’ve been at the comm all night. That isn’t what happened at all.” Yule watched the report closely, “They’re saying t
Egeiniana Chronicles Episode 3 (part 2)During the exact same morning in Tinosina Princess Dericia had put on her simplest olive coloured pelisse and together with her bodyguard taken a hack that drove them to the peripheral districts of the town who’s inhabitants people like Mayor Edouard de la Houppalaude never would invite to any of his lavish parties. It was important to them both to attract as little attention as possible, because if the wrong person saw the Princess running errands in the mucky alleys that proclaimed poverty, instead of making visits to the other influential role players that constituted the play of the Tinosina high society, she instantly would cause a startling scandal.
But because Dericia was a woman who was standing for all her opinions, even the more inconvenient ones, she was fully aware of the risks she was taken by visiting her secret friend Esther Platora, an rather old spinster that had devoted her life to take daily care of the children of the hard working labourers of her town. Miss P
Egeiniana Chronicles Episode 3 (Part 1)Episode 3
In which the aristocracy enjoys the luxurious life at their favourite resort while a Princess considers the social inequalities in that town and two young Countesses experiences an appalling date, a mother forcefully berates her daughter’s former landladies during an bizarre removal and a young husband in economic troubles gets a shady offer
Chateau de Regissi, at the Ehlldonian countryside
18th of June 1799
Princess Leatrice and Duke Alexander de la Narlonne were having dinner completely on their own, but because of the old man’s severely broken leg that had been surgically mended and therefore now required a long convalescence, he had no ability to walk downstairs to the dining room of his son in law’s chateaux. Instead he had to recline in his favorite bedroom lounge while his favorite granddaughter sat on a chair with a small table, which the servants had carried up exclusively for this purpose, between him and her. Despite the circu
She was in her sitting room, the sergeant informed me as he led me upstairs. Lady Grace Seraphin had been returning from a late night soiree (at none other than my sister Marian's house) with her maid, when she found her husband impaled on the railings outside their house.
My heart twisted in pity for Grace, for I was certain that I would never be rid of the image of my brother's bloodied body, yet I knew it would be ten times worse for someone who was not accustomed to viewing corpses.
The policeman informed me that the maid had had to be sedated as she became hysterical, but Grace refused all such medical attention, claiming it would do her more harm than good.
I found her sitting on a chaise lounge, eyes staring blankly ahead, looking oddly out of place as she was still in her evening gown. Yet her hair was dishevelled and the hem of her dress was stained in my brother's blood. She blinked dazedly when she saw me, her face slowly registering mine.
Then Grace inhaled sharply, as a sailor does upon reaching the surface, and whispered my name. I was at her side in a moment, pulling her up into my arms.
(The sergeant wisely left as silently as possible.)
Grace's entire frame shuddered violently and she began to sob unceasingly against my chest.
I sensed she had been too disturbed to shed a tear until that moment, but the resemblance between myself and Sebastian was too much to bear.
The sound of her weeping almost broke me as well, and though my throat burned, I bit the inside of my mouth until it bled to hold myself in check. Now was not the time. The pain was too raw, too unbelievable for tears yet.
Suddenly Grace began to beat her fists against me.
"Six weeks!" she sobbed, "six weeks! That's all we had together! We were meant to have a lifetime!"
I took the beating silently, gathering the courage to soothe her into silence.
Suddenly she slumped against me- the impact of Sebastian's death finally overwhelming her.
I carried her unconscious form gently over to the sofa and laid her down, studying her beautiful, terrible, tear-stained face with a growing sense of unease.
She truly had loved my brother after all.
There was some small, stupidly vain part of me that imagined she still held a candle for me as I did for her.
After witnessing her violent grief, my hopes were finally snuffed out.
It was then that a sickening dread crept over me.
How on earth was I to explain to her my dreadful theories about Lucius?
If he had escaped, then I might as well have pushed Sebastian off the balcony myself.
For I had released a devil into this lovers' paradise.If Grace ever found out, she would never forgive me.
'WHEN SERAPHIN FALL' WILL RETURN IN 2018
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