FireWalkWithMeIndex SB: Alex/Swan: Fire Walk with Me SB: Alex/Swan: Fire Walk with Me Swan smiles down at Alex, “So, want set your peepers on a Broken Pattern, doll? I think it’s feeding time.” At the words, the seriousness drops like a veil and a large grin crosses Alex's face. Scooping her backpack from it's spot at her feet, she slides it onto her shoulder. "Gladly." "It would be well to complete the bargain." Sharane says. "We will bring the prisoner along, Swan. Alexandra, you may accompany us if you wish." With a renewed vigor, Swan pushes away from the wall and strolls up behind Acestes. He soon finds the cold metal of her rune pistol pressing into the small of his back, pushing him forward. “Don’t worry Testes, you going to a better place. Now move before I find a new use for your kidneys.” As turns her head to Alex, “You guys do have kidneys, right?” "I do," Alex replies dryly, "but I haven't checked anyone else out." "Huttner and I have a couple of things to discuss in private. Space to do that would be appreciated." Cazaril says. "This will also give the lady a chance to speak to her relations here." "This is wise" Sharane says. "And shall be done." “Smell you latter, guys,” Swan chimes. Alex throws a smile and a wave over her shoulder as she slips her arm through Swan's free one. She follows Sharane, urging the downtrodden Jesby along with cattle-prod pokes from her gun. Her voice changes from smarmy to respectful when she addresses the priestess. “Sharane. Have you or your sisterhood – I’m assuming there’s one of those – ever negotiated this Pattern? Uh. I mean, the Mandala.” Alex walks with respectful silence beside Swan, her attention on Sharane because she, too, is interested in the answer to Swan's question. "Only the most powerful of the Hari have dared to navigate the Mandala." Sharane says. "As I told you before, the Mandala speaks to the Hari, and it is the Mandala's decision if the Priestess is worthy to assay the design." "Yes:" Sharane says "I am among those of my line who have negotiated the Mandala. And lived, obviously. Now, behold!" At this point, Alex, Swan, Sharane and the captive Acestes are at a door. With a flourish, the Hari opens the door. Beyond the door is a circular room. Against the far wall is a gigantic design burning in blue fire that illuminates the room. It looks like a labyrinth or maze of some kind, an inwardly curving design that leads to the center. Its incomplete, though, shot through with black portions that are distinctly different than the dark stone the design is burning on. The black portions look as if someone had doused ink, or some other dark substance upon some of the lines, blotting them out utterly. Swan has a happy-shiver moment that runs through her body from head to toes. She recalls the first time she witnessed the True Pattern – a moment of pure wonderment and fear. But this? This is something different. This is something primal. Something raw and unfettered by order and light. This is dark, raw power coiling in the belly like sex and booze and jazz all in one imperfect package. For the first time in ages, she’s speechless. "Behold the Mandala!" Sharane says, stepping into the room first, as azure fire dances along its lines. She then gestures to the left hand of the room where a man sized trench clearly an abattoir, is carved into the rock. "Bring the prisoner! The Mandala needs to feed." And it is at this moment that Acestes, inevitably, starts to try his escape. He moves forward, away from Swan's gun, in a clear attempt to rush Sharane. It takes Swan half a second to recognize the threat. The gun barks in her hand twice, putting two warning shots into the back of Acestes’ knees. She’s got enough sense about her to utilize the rubber bullets, rather than risking injury to Sharane. Alex reacts at the same time as Swan, though her movements are slower than the shot coming from her lover's gun. Still, her hand is swift as it reaches behind her to grab the handle of the bat sticking out from her pack. As though she is rolling a cannister of her "special mixture" into a room, she lets the weapon go low to the ground, adjusting her movements automatically for the longer object. She throws it with as much speed and surety as she can, knowing that it will hit Acestes before he has a chance to reach the Hari. The baseball bat flies from Swan's hand and strikes Acestes a couple of moments before Swan's twin bullets strike Acestes in the knees. The Jesby begins to topple, well short of touching Sharane. “Alex! Grab him,” she growls, chambering another round. Before the words have finished reaching her ears, Alex is at a run, attempting to grab him as soon as he is off balance from the two attacks. Her hands clasps firmly around his arm and her knee goes into his back. Looking at her, one would not expect her to have the strength to keep this man in submission. But her heritage gives her far more than just a pretty face and a love for explosions. "No worries," she assures Swan and Sharane, her long hair flipping over her shoulder as she glances back at Swan, the wicked grin of fun lighting her face. Swan's new round is chambered and ready, and aimed at Acestes. Its not a particularly clear shot, given that Alex is wrapped around Acestes firmly. He is strong, and struggles, but Alex is stronger, and has the advantage of not having been recently shot by Swan. He is going nowhere. “Nice work, Doll! I may need to keep you around on a permanent basis,” Swan says, advancing on them. "I'm nothing if not handy," she replies with a wink. Sharane steps back a pace and looks at Acestes. She nods to both women. "You have my gratitude, especially since you did not spill his blood." She briskly heads over to the trench and takes a knife off of the wall. "If you would bring him here, Alexandra,, and bend his neck over the trench, we can release enough blood to make him ready to be given to the Mandala. Swan, if you would stand at the beginning of the design, your help in conducting him into the design would be equally appreciated." Swan nods, holstering her pistol. She helps Alex lift the fallen man to his feet; her fingers biting into his neck like bands of steel. “You got two choices here, Acestes. One: Man up, Walk the Walk on your own feet, and meet your Maker with some dignity. Or Two: Keep fighting like a catfish, I break your spine, and drag you over there with your legs floppin’ and a load steamin’ in your drawers. I’d personally vote for the first option.” Her warning delivered, she follows Sharane’s instructions and moves to the beginning of the Pattern. Acestes growls, but he does not prove to be any further problem for Alex to get him to the required spot. He doesn't show the dignity that Swan suggests, not quite, but while he might have dug in his heels, struggled, or otherwise made the experience miserable for Alex, the short trip to the trench is remarkably free of drama. At the trench, and with his neck lowered, Acestes tries to struggle again, but it is in the end, futile. Alex is too strong, and now has leverage. With a simple motion of her hand, the slicing of a knife, blood flows from a gash in Acestes neck. It steams as it emits from the wound, and into the waiting basin/trench. "Now, to the Mandala." Sharane says. Bleeding, and turning glassy-eyed and weak from the loss of blood, Alex finds that she has to practically carry the dying Acestes to get him from the abattoir where some of his blood cools and pools to where Swan waits. "Get him onto the Mandala" Sharane says as Alex reaches Swan. "Take a care not to step onto it yourself while you do so, or else the Mandala will consider you part of the sacrifice." “Right,” Swan says. “I’d rather keep all my body parts where they are.” She takes the Jesby meat-sack from Alex and keeps him tight in her grip as she leads him the last steps to the Mandala. Sharane then closes her eyes and begins to chant in a foreign, liquid sounding tongue, a language full not of ardor and beauty, but dissonance, darkness and a vaguely menacing tone. Swan holds Acestes out like toxic waste, making sure her feet don’t slip onto the glowing Pattern. The proximity to it, however, plays heavily on her inner death-wish… like leaning over a railing and feeling the urge to jump into gravity’s embrace. Alex stands back from the others, close enough to step in if necessary but far enough away to not be a hindrance. Now that her package has been delivered, she can concentrate on what is happening. There is something in Sharane's tongue that pulls vaguely at her, bringing to mind the dark horrors she has seen on her journeys. But she keeps the presence of mind to do nothing more than watch, with a small prayer that Swan makes no mis-steps. The priestess still chants, sonorously as this plays out, moment by moment. Like a dark soundtrack, her chanting provides atmosphere and ardor to the proceedings. When Swan lets go of Acestes onto the design, Acestes tries to pull Swan with him. And, indeed, he might have succeeded and pulled her onto the design to sacrifice and die, too. Fortunately, however, as his feet, and more importantly, a drop of his dripping blood hits the design, his body wracks with electric, elemental power. Acestes lets go of Swan, and totters away. He gets four steps, until one of his feet stands in a pool of darkness, and the stands on the bright line simultaneously. His legs tremble uncontrollably, and the Jesby totters and falls backward. Green, corrosive fire rises out of the darkness. No, more of an amalgam of black and green, that unnatural fire, that sheets over his body, turning it to ash, turning it into fuel and power for the Broken Pattern. As his body turns to compost, the Mandala grows in obvious power. The bright blue lines grow even brighter, to perhaps rival the real Pattern in Amber. And the darkness, too turns fulgin in its inescapable darkness and power. And Acestes is soon definitely gone. Forever. Still, his brief attempt to kill Swan by taking her with him has had this effect. Swan totters precariously on the very edge of, intentionally or not, taking a fateful step, herself. The Broken Pattern, the Mandala, seems to call Swan to take that step, now. The pulses of energy seem to speak in a novel language for her to step onto the lines, and more especially the darkness within the design whispers to her to do so. Indeed, as if urging her to do so, or casting a spell, perhaps to make her do so, the chant from the Hari raises in volume and tone as she now stares at Swan. Swan feels her world waver and tilt, as if she’s standing on a boat in a rough sea. Her head pounds with the sounds within it; the chanting, the calling. On another day, she’d be able to cast them off, but not today. Today she is worn thin, exhausted by the bloodshed and noise and chaos. The Pattern’s azure light fills her with a strange peace. A temporary peace that she usually only finds at the bottom of a bottle or in the arms of a lover. A peace to drone out the world and the memories and the anguish. The peace she’s sought from death all her life. The peace she’s never found. Despite the calling in her, she knows she’s being selfish. Alex is only a few feet away. A simple reach away. They will kiss and hold one another and whisper affections long into the night. But she’s done that before, hasn’t she? So many times. With so many souls. There is no lasting peace there. Never has been. Never will be. She's a broken, brittle creature without a heart. She will leave or Alex will. It's inevitable. It's just the way of things. Sorry, Alex. But as the man says, ‘The only true freedom is freedom from the heart's desires. And the only true happiness this way lies.’ And that way lies forward. Just one little step forward. So Swan takes it. And gives the Mandala what it wants. But she won’t let it go easy. It’s not in her nature. “Come get me, Bitch,” she whispers, taking another step and laughing as she goes. Alex starts to lean forward, wanting to reach out and pull her lover to safety. But then Swan's whisper reaches her ear. Taking a ragged breath, she starts to mimic Swan's steps - not onto the Mandala, but to the edge. "Strength," she murmurs. Everything she has, everything she is, is directed to the other woman. "Come back to me." The Mandala obliges. The first few steps are similar to a regular Patternwalk for Swan. At least, a regular Patternwalk if it were accompanied by the Hari's sonorous chanting, of course. It feels much the same in all respects, Swan being the conduit on the blue lines of power. It is her first step into the darkness that changes the experience for Swan. In an instant, the power and energy of the Pattern is transmorgified into something darker. A flow of dark energy enters into Swan. Come get her? This dark energy threatens to absorb her, to turn her into ash as it did Acestes. But there is a bond between Swan and this Pattern. Or the beginnings of one. Inside of her, step by step, Swan feels the lines of the Pattern fueling a change, a change that is directed and sculpted by the dark energy of the black portions of the Pattern. Outwardly, to Alex, to anyone, there is nothing to see. Inside, however, as Swan rounds a curve, she can very much feel the changes. Somehow, this Broken Pattern, with every step she is taking, is transmuting her skills, her powers, her nature, into something different. Something new. Even with this, the struggle to walk the Mandala is omnipresent. Beyond the more esoteric struggle of change within her, walking a Pattern, especially a Pattern like this, is a fight for survival. The Mandala asks a question. Are you strong enough to master me? And with each step, as dangerous and fraught as it is, Swan manages to answer that question. Now, though, a large dark patch remains before the center of the Mandala. The final transformation awaits Swan, if she has the strength left to navigate it. Does she? Swan struggles with each step - not only because of the difficulty of traversing the Pattern’s dark complexities, but also from the fear in her heart. One hundred years of pain and disappointment do tend to scar one’s psyche. And scars can be comfortable. A protective shield against the hardships and pleasures of life. But now she can feel the Mandala stripping away that skin, peeling her like an onion and letting this soothing darkness in. It begins to replace the shadows already lurking there, exposing them to the azure flames. She’s never felt this naked in her life. Never more vulnerable. And it terrifies her. For a moment she wavers. She could simply let this darkness consume her and blessedly fade from existence. Would it really matter? To her father? To her family? To anyone? And then beyond the umbrous pit looming before her, she can see Alex. Her sweet, explosive-crazed moll. And she remembers how seeing someone she cared for die in front of her and how that irrevocably changed her. Transformed her into a heartless thing. And she knows that no matter where their lives take them after this, she cannot inflict that same fate upon Alex. Not now. Not ever. With renewed purpose and strength, she mutters a foul curse and pushes through the final transformative steps. At every curve, another line of worry etches itself onto Alex's face. Her own steps are almost automatic, moving back and forth, staying as near to Swan as she can without putting herself into certain danger. Swan would never forgive her - or herself, the younger woman suspects - if she were to be stupid enough to die because of a misstep. But she watches as closely as she can, knowing that she will take the steps onto the Mandala without hesitation if it seems as though Swan needs her. The Hari ignores Alex's mimicry, continuing her chant, her mantra, as Swan faces her last, definitive steps. For Swan, they are a roar of transformation, transmorgification. The Mandala continues to work on Swan, augmenting and changing not only her power set, but her very nature. As Swan takes the last step across the black patch between her and the center of the Mandala, she feels the transformation is complete. She is no longer just a gun mage scion of the Pattern, but another word, another epithet comes to her mind. Siren. But to Alex, watching her progress, Swan softly and silently vanishes before taking that last step into the center... It takes a heartbeat for Alex to realize what happened, hoping that maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no... Swan was no longer on the Mandala. She was nowhere in sight. "Don't you DARE," she swore softly, her footsteps automatic as color rose to her cheeks. Mimicking from the outside hadn't kept the other woman safe, so Alex did the only thing she could think to do. She took her first step to the beginning of the broken pattern. Alex is the daughter of power...the daughter of Jurt, son of Dara, the Queen Mother of Chaos means that Alex has the potential of power in her blood. It means that she can walk the Mandala. Ten steps in, the Hari stops her chant and speaks directly to Alex. "Swan has walked the Mandala and it has changed her. If you complete the walk, it will change you as well. Not in the same way, but in according to your nature." "Who and what are you?" The Hari asks. While the questions echo in Alex's mind, the path gets progressively harder. Alex at least has her lover's walk as a guide where to step, how to navigate this amalgam of light and shadow, of pattern and chaos. But who and what is Alex? But there is a bond between Swan and this Pattern. Or the beginnings of one. Inside of her, step by step, Swan feels the lines of the Pattern fueling a change, a change that is directed and sculpted by the dark energy of the black portions of the Pattern. Outwardly, to Alex, to anyone, there is nothing to see. Inside, however, as Swan rounds a curve, she can very much feel the changes. Somehow, this Broken Pattern, with every step she is taking, is transmuting her skills, her powers, her nature, into something different. Something new. Even with this, the struggle to walk the Mandala is omnipresent. Beyond the more esoteric struggle of change within her, walking a Pattern, especially a Pattern like this, is a fight for survival. The Mandala asks a question. Are you strong enough to master me? And with each step, as dangerous and fraught as it is, Swan manages to answer that question. Now, though, a large dark patch remains before the center of the Mandala. The final transformation awaits Swan, if she has the strength left to navigate it. Does she? Swan struggles with each step - not only because of the difficulty of traversing the Pattern’s dark complexities, but also from the fear in her heart. One hundred years of pain and disappointment do tend to scar one’s psyche. And scars can be comfortable. A protective shield against the hardships and pleasures of life. But now she can feel the Mandala stripping away that skin, peeling her like an onion and letting this soothing darkness in. It begins to replace the shadows already lurking there, exposing them to the azure flames. She’s never felt this naked in her life. Never more vulnerable. And it terrifies her. For a moment she wavers. She could simply let this darkness consume her and blessedly fade from existence. Would it really matter? To her father? To her family? To anyone? And then beyond the umbrous pit looming before her, she can see Alex. Her sweet, explosive-crazed moll. And she remembers how seeing someone she cared for die in front of her and how that irrevocably changed her. Transformed her into a heartless thing. And she knows that no matter where their lives take them after this, she cannot inflict that same fate upon Alex. Not now. Not ever. With renewed purpose and strength, she mutters a foul curse and pushes through the final transformative steps. At every curve, another line of worry etches itself onto Alex's face. Her own steps are almost automatic, moving back and forth, staying as near to Swan as she can without putting herself into certain danger. Swan would never forgive her - or herself, the younger woman suspects - if she were to be stupid enough to die because of a misstep. But she watches as closely as she can, knowing that she will take the steps onto the Mandala without hesitation if it seems as though Swan needs her. The Hari ignores Alex's mimicry, continuing her chant, her mantra, as Swan faces her last, definitive steps. For Swan, they are a roar of transformation, transmorgification. The Mandala continues to work on Swan, augmenting and changing not only her power set, but her very nature. As Swan takes the last step across the black patch between her and the center of the Mandala, she feels the transformation is complete. She is no longer just a gun mage scion of the Pattern, but another word, another epithet comes to her mind. Siren. But to Alex, watching her progress, Swan softly and silently vanishes before taking that last step into the center... It takes a heartbeat for Alex to realize what happened, hoping that maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no... Swan was no longer on the Mandala. She was nowhere in sight. "Don't you DARE," she swore softly, her footsteps automatic as color rose to her cheeks. Mimicking from the outside hadn't kept the other woman safe, so Alex did the only thing she could think to do. She took her first step to the beginning of the broken pattern. Alex is the daughter of power...the daughter of Jurt, son of Dara, the Queen Mother of Chaos means that Alex has the potential of power in her blood. It means that she can walk the Mandala. Ten steps in, the Hari stops her chant and speaks directly to Alex. "Swan has walked the Mandala and it has changed her. If you complete the walk, it will change you as well. Not in the same way, but in according to your nature." "Who and what are you?" The Hari asks. While the questions echo in Alex's mind, the path gets progressively harder. Alex at least has her lover's walk as a guide where to step, how to navigate this amalgam of light and shadow, of pattern and chaos. But who and what is Alex? Swan stands there for a moment, studying her altered surroundings. The soubriquet echoes in her mind, inspiring a jubilant smile. Her body hums like a tuning fork, blessedly new and familiar at the same time. Having always suffered a sense of disconnection from the world, this new existence is not disconcerting, but welcomed. Curious to explore, She heads in Alex’s, the last frame of reference she had in this strange half-world. The Mandala beneath her only stirs a little as she crosses it in search of Alex. The worried look on her face is evident. And before Swan can figure out how to get out of his phase-out life that she has found herself in...Alex sets foot on the Mandala and begins walking. “‘Lex, what are you doing? ALEX!” Swan shrieks. Her heart floods with slushy fear. “No, no, NO! This isn’t happening.” She tries to skirt the swirling darkness of the Mandala, to get as close to Alex as possible. Alex. Her friend. Her girlfriend. Her lover. It suddenly strikes her just how deep this girl has wound her way into Swan cold heart. Losing her now would mean something. Something terrible. And she’s not going to let that happen. The fact that she's made it at least as far as Acestes is a sign, perhaps, that Alex can survive the walk. But considering what it did to Swan...what will the Mandala do to her lover? And how can Swan return to reality? Swan paces back and forth like an angry tiger, trying to muddle her way through this problem. She’s grown so accustomed to shooting things to solve her problems. Shooting is so much easier than thinking. And then it hits her. Her rune-guns. They phase in and out of existence all the time. What if this half-realm is like that? Simply a state of existence between the ‘spaces’ of Reality. She pauses and tries to will herself back into the Mandala’s chamber, imagining herself folding Reality like a piece of paper until the two points connect and she can step through to the other side. As Alex takes her steps, and Swan is still nowhere to be seen, the Hari heads towards the Door to the Mandala's chamber, and opens it. Standing outside are Espérance and her new henchwoman, Kolfa. Inside, Espérance can see the familiar room, with the design on the wall. Walking along the Mandala as if the wall were the floor, is Alex. "Come in." The Hari says. "The blond haired Siren has walked the Mandala, and now the Lady of Fire does as well. Did you come to walk, too, Lady of War?" "No, I--" And it is at that moment, there is the sound of a soft explosion. Out of nowhere, near the Mandala, Swan appears. More properly, from the observant Espérance's point of view, Swan appears in a corona of a wave of monochrome energy that, fortunately, falls just short of touching her, Kolfa, Hari and Alex. Even though her head is swimming, Swan bolts toward the edge of the Mandala, “’Lex! Damnit all, what are you doing?” She doesn't even seem to notice the effect she's had on her surroundings. All that matters right now is Alex. She begins to pace back and forth along the edge like an agitated cat. “Okay, honey. Just don’t stop, savvy? Don’t stop for anything! Keep walking no matter what.” Alex barely (and wisely from Swan's point of view) acknowledges Swan. She firmly is concentrating on the broken design before her. Stepping along lines, stepping completely in the dark as needed, Alex's progress is slow and less sure than Swan's was, but she does not stop or halt as she walks along the design, perpendicular to the rest of the room. The Hari moves aside to allow Espérance fuller entry into the room. As she does so, she turns to look at Swan. "I am pleased your transmogrification is complete. The Mandala is pleased." she says. Swan turns her head, eyes flashing. "Well, if she's pleased, I hope she won't sink her mitts into my moll. Or we'll have words, transmoggidoggieification or whatever." She runs her fingers through her hair, "She's going to be okay, right?" She hates this helpless feeling - wanting to do something to get Alex out of this, but interfereing will likely do more damage in the end. "What the hell did that thing do to me? Us?" For the moment, Espérance just stands and watches the eerie sight of Alex walking on the wall. "I am as yet uncertain how the Mandala will transmorgify the lady of Fire, but it will likely do to her what it did to you." Sharane replies. "It will remake her and empower her as befits her nature." "You, Swan" The Hari continues "Are an assassin who relies on stealth, deception, and sex appeal to kill. The Mandala has merely accentuated your nature by gifting you powers that increase all of your talents, including augmenting your appearance." "The Lady of War" Sharane adds, with a touch of humor in her voice "likely has not noticed the latter." Swan blinks and then glances down at herself, “Yeah. It would take a Pattern to make this tomato look any sexier than she already is, alright. I mean, I was already perfection.” She runs her hands over her hips and gives them a wiggle, as if reintroducing herself to them. Satisfied, she turns her attention back to Alex and her Marcel-Marceau-Walking-Against-the-Wind impression. “You’d better make it through this, ‘Lex,” she yells. “I gots me a new bod and you need to take it for a test drive! Do you hear me?” A fleeting grin crosses the other woman's lips, but she says nothing. Her face is a mask of concentration, but the light that began to shine in her eyes at Swan's words has yet to go out. And as but surely, Espérance can continue to watch as Alex continues her journey on the Mandala. She is slowing but not stopping, as the center looms before her. But who and what is Alex? Her right foot pauses for a heartbeat before landing firmly on the pattern before her. Who and what is she? The question of who she was had been one she'd struggled with for years. It was what caused her to grab her backpack and start walking, in search of the father who she had so often been compared to. Before she met Caz, her definition of self was something far different than it had become since the day she found the cellphone in her bag. Hell, she had changed so much between the first step she'd taken on her journey and when she met her cousin. Before she was content to sit in the background, playing with chemicals and detonating small bombs for her own amusement. She never felt as though she "fit", which is why she took those first steps, but she never expected that the search for her father would have changed her that much. The girl she had been would not have expected her to be a part of the raid with Theo, that lifetime ago in the arcology.. Creating her own special formula to help them, yes. She never could allow the strong to prey on the weak, and if her talents helped with that, then that was what she would do. But smashing a super-charged bat into a giant pepper-pot? And finding that she liked the rush and the fear that came with it... it was almost as though she was in the center of one of her explosions. Then Cazaril told her about her family history. She came from royalty. Super-powered, incredibly unusual royalty, but it was enough for her to be given a deference that she had never before experienced. And she still didn't know how she felt about that. Would it be something, like the new-found love of danger, that she would relish or would it make her miserable because, at heart, she still thought of herself as a bastard whose Mama didn't understand her? That was a questions she couldn't yet answer, so she pushes it aside for a moment. Words drift to Alex's ears and she thinks, for a moment, that they are spoken in Swan's voice. But it can't be, she tells herself, making her way around a curve. Swan went elsewhere. But as her steps bring her around once again to see the Hari, she notices the woman is not alone and that Swan's voice was not a mirage. A quick glance is all she can spare before she must concentrate on her steps once more. 'She's okay!' The relief courses through her mind and heart like she never would have expected before. And another part of who and what she was lit like a neon sign. She was Swan's lover, and Swan was hers. She had never experienced an instant connection with another woman the way she had with Swan. To be honest, she'd never experienced such a connection with ANYONE before. It scared her - she never thought of herself as a lesbian or even as bisexual. Other women had never been more than friends to her. But Swan... the crazy, sexy, strange-talking woman that came into her life like a whirlwind was so much more than a lover. She was the confidant the younger woman had never had, the one that could make Alex laugh and cry, give her strength and make her weak. She was the one that Alex trusted above all others. And she was the only person in the Worlds that Alex would not be able to lose. Alex was in love with her. Again, Alex's steps almost faltered as the thought slammed into her. Love was something she'd never expected, never truly experienced. And her it was, changing her in ways she could not imagine. But love was also what kept her lifting her foot as though through molasses. Even if Swan did not return her feelings, it didn't matter. Love and the knowledge that Swan was waiting, whether just as a lover or as a love, was enough to keep her moving. 'Swan's lover is not all that you are, though,' the little voice inside her mind chided her. Being one thing was far from all, far from the most important thing that she was. Yes, it helped define her, but only as an edge piece helped define the whole puzzle. She was strong, she was smart. She loved to laugh and to sing. She loved to watch fire waver before her eyes, watch something whole explode into it's smaller components. She knew her own views of right and wrong. She tried to fight for those who could not fight for themselves. She was loyal to her friends and her loved ones. And for all that a small amount of cynicism that had crept into her mind, she was not cynical. She was far from perfect - she had her moments of selfishness, moments of doubt, but all in all, she was a good person and she would do what she had to to keep that as a part of her. Love, Passion. Loyalty. Fire. These four things sustain, and define Alex. And, it must be said, perhaps, as the Mandala, the Broken Pattern, threatens to destroy Alex, these things save Alex. The heat beneath Alex's skin builds in the last few steps, and when she reaches the center, she does so in a corona of fire and heat. These flames surround Alex for a minute, obscuring her from the view of all. When the flames finally are banked, Alex is distinctly...different. Her skin is now bronze colored, with a hint of red to it. Alex's hair has turned obsidian in color. Around her, even as far away as the far ends of the room, Espérance and Swan can feel the heat that comes off of Alex in waves. There is the reflection of dancing flames in her eyes. Alex is now a creature that would find a home in lands with churning deserts, lava rivers and volcanoes, and harsh, dry winds. "Elemental" The Hari says, softly. Swan runs forward, ignorant to the heat, only one thought, one word, on her mind. “‘Lex!” Espérance bites back an exclamation of alarm. [Assuming she doesn’t burst into flames doing so… ] [Swan] wraps the young woman up in her arms, hugging her desperately. “You stupid, stupid girl! What the hell were you thinking?! You could have been zotzed for crappin’ sake. And then where the hell would I be?” She kisses Alex’s cheeks and forehead and then hugs her again, unwilling to let go. Alex's skin is warm to the touch, even bordering on hot, but Swan does not burst into flames or turn to ash. As the women embrace, the worst of the heat and elemental outburst subside. Alex still is radiant, but at a reduced "The journeys are completed and are accepted." The Hari says with satisfaction. She turns and lets her gaze go over Espérance, Alex and Swan alike. "Your menfolk are in a state of agitation and worry. Perhaps now, with our business complete, and the Mandala safe, it is now time for the three of you to collect them, and depart." "With all due respect, Hari," says Espérance, "I think that's a fine idea." "I am certain" she adds to Swan and Alex "the two of you will return one day. But go forth, today, to other realms and worlds, by the power of the Mandala." “Thank you, Mistress,” Swan says with genuine humility and thanks. “We’ll make sure to keep the Mandala in our hearts long after we drift.” Alex, resting her head on Swan's shoulder, nods as well. "And my thanks as well," she adds with equal humility A hint of a smile arrives on her lips. "I suspect this will even the playing field a little between the two of us." She hugs Alex around the waist, “Let’s go talk to, Caz, shall we? I’m sure he’s gonna burst a vessel when he gloms what went down in here.” The bronzed woman places one hand over her lover's, holding it softly in place around her waist. "I dunno," she replies to Swan's remark. "He's a lot easier going than I would think for someone his age." Her own arm slides around Swan's slim waist, their steps synchronized but their movements showing the subtle differences that tell of their individuality. "Fare thee well" Sharane says as the three women depart. [Swan] follows behind Ezzy, grinning like a cat. With little effort, the three women find their way to the doorless side room where Cazaril and Huttner have been holed up. Both men, turn, stare and study Swan and Alex as they reach the entrance to the room. The jaw dropping look is quickly extinguished when Caz looks at Huttner. He then gives a quirked smile in the direction of Espérance. "Perhaps" Cazaril says. "I should be surprised that only Dara's daughter resisted the temptation to indulge in this primal power?" "Swan looks like a Peisinoe, and Alex now looks like a Charrae Fire Elemental." Huttner exclaims. "I take it" Cazaril adds with an outward air of calm, looking at Swan and Alex "the changes are far more than cosmetic?" Swan quirks a brow at Huttner, “I don’t know what you just monikered, but it sounds dirty. And yeah, there were issues in there. The blood sacrifice went south and before you can say Bob’s Your Uncle, I ankled up a wall. Little Fire-Brand here ran after me. Isn’t she sweet? Crazy. But sweet." "It was completely non-premediated on both parts, I am sure." Cazaril replies. In the meantime, Huttner's gaze is a bit unfocused as he studies Alex,Swan and Espérance in succession. If she hadn't been the color of melted bronze, Alex is sure that color would have come to her cheeks. As it is, she can feel the air warm around her. She tries to control the heat, doing her best to prevent any discomfort to her lover. But the control is weak at best and it takes until Swan has finished speaking to feel as though she can speak herself. “Either way, the Pattern in there spat us out good as new. Which is rate, because it pretty much ate the first palooka to step on it.” [Swan] jerks her thumb at Espérance, “Prissy Ezzy over there decided to keep her beak clean. She’s no fun at all.” She smirks broadly. "I think I should learn more about these things before I try one," Espérance replies. Swan puffs on her gasper, “Where’s the fun in that? A little ignorance never hurt nobody.” "You had to know more about it than I did," Alex points out, her body temperature finally back to normal. "I'm curious how it would have changed you." Turning her attention back toward Caz, she smiles briefly. "As you've probably guessed, there are quite a few changes that came along with the body. Still not sure what all of them are, but I can't wait to find out." Swan smirks, “I volunteer to conduct a thorough physical. I’m thinkin’ it’ll take a week or so.” "I am not overly familiar with Primal Powers that make such overt and outward changes." Cazaril says. "Certainly you will now have some capacity to travel through shadow, although I suspect there will be consequences and risks to doing so." "I suppose, however, Alexandra." he says, with clear reluctance in his tone. "that while I would normally counsel not experimenting with your Imprint until we arrive at House Sawall, the powers of the House will be less than pleased if we do not do so. So I propose..." "Espérance!" Huttner interrupts Caz, suddenly. "What is that you have on your wrist? It's registering strongly to my aetheric sight." "Ah, yes," says Espérance. "This is apparently a gift," she gives the mental command for the bracelet to shift into a sword, "from my mother. An heirloom, in fact." Huttner whistles. "The Queen Mother is generous." Swan nods in appreciation, “Nice. Pointy.” "More than that, I think" Cazaril says. "I may wish, Espérance, to inquire more about your gift from Dara. But not here, and now. Now, I think its time that we got ourselves sorted, and departed. Have you said your goodbyes to your father and his companion?" "Not formally," Espérance replies. "Kolfa and I left them rather abruptly when Vanyel detected ... well, presumably the Mandala's reaction to being 'walked' by these two. I also wouldn't mind seeing them safely out of this mountain. It's not that I don't trust the Hari's promise, but..." "Trust but prepare for treachery." Kolfa says with a nod. "Darasdottir is wise in this." Swan gives Alex a playful aside, “Oh sure. She blames /us/ for them beating feet. Like we had any choice in the matter. Well, you did. So, it’s your fault really.” One eyebrow rises slightly. "Then maybe you shouldn't have disappeared on me," she retorts, eyes sparkling brightly. She puffs on her gasper and glances over at Caz, “So, are we booking to Chaos now?” "Sounds good to me," Alex replies, glancing at her cousin with a shrug. "Once our business here is complete" Cazaril says "Yes, we will be traveling to the Courts. Espérance and Kolfa do have a point. We'll collect your companions to escort them out of the Mountain. Doubtless Vanyel will wish to leave the mountain at this time as well, although I am fairly certain he will not wish to travel with us further." "Let us go." he adds. Cazaril is suddenly in motion and heads out the door, with Huttner on his heels like a hunting hound. Swan follows, giving Alex a playful pat on her burning-coal rump. Espérance follows them out into the hallway and then turns toward the room where she left the Duke, St. Vier, and Vanyel. By the time the three ladies and two scions of Sawall reach the original room, both the Duke and St. Vier are leaning against the wall and chatting. Vanyel is nowhere to be seen. Richard turns toward Espérance. "Your new friend departed without a word. Quite uncivilized, really." he says seriously to her. "And I suspect you are all here to see us safely out of this mountain?" "That's the idea," says Espérance. Swan glances around for her uncle, a faint twinge of regret touching her heart. “He got on the rail without so much as a ‘goodbye’? Well, if that don’t twist my straps.” She shrugs, “Well, I have what I want, so let’s beat feet. I want so ‘us’ time, so we can figure out what kinda damage we can get up to.” "Very well" The Duke says. "The sooner I see the Sun, the better." "Unless you have stolen it in the meantime." Richard says to Espérance. "That would be a bit of a high climb even for me," she informs him dryly. "Anyway, I haven't done second-story work since I was ten." Without much more ado, The Duke, Hugo, and Richard fall into line with Espérance, Alex, Swan, Cazaril, Huttner and Kolfa. The last takes a rear position, continually looking into corridors, rooms and behind the group. She doesn't stop doing this until the group reaches the entrance to the cave, where the male members of the cult stand on guard. They watch the group, but none make a move to molest the group. Tulorian, standing here now, does give a deep bow to Swan, Espérance, Alex, Cazaril and Huttner in turn as they pass by him. Swan stubs out her gasper and breaths in the fresh air from outside. She gives a nod to Tulorian as they pass by, “Thanks Tully. I’ll probably be back after a spell, so keep your lady safe for me.” "Fare well Swan" Tulorian says gravely. "I can practically taste the sunshine" Richard says as the first rays of sunshine strike him and his companion, laughing in unison. "Does it taste as good as Panaji spices?" Espérance asks him with some amusement. "I wonder if it tastes as good to you as my..." The Duke gives off a grin and stops abruptly as he regards Richard. As she emerges from the cave, Swan shields her eyes and sighs. “So Caz, can we sail to the Courts from here? Or are we going to shoe it for awhile?” "I know Huttner's preference would be to sail, and there are advantages to taking a ship." Caz replies. Huttner, as if on cue, gives a grin. Caz continues "It is easier to pull a ship through shadow than some other methods. Alex and I" he gives a smile to Alex "traveled a fair amount through shadow by means of rail, which also has similar advantages to a ship in terms of moving large amounts of people." "Although I have the ultimate decision" Cazaril says. "I am interested in all of your preferences, since we six are traveling together and will need to get along." Hugo gives a bark. "Yes, all
"And once you all have decided, then we will part our ways, I suppose" Richard says. "Well, if we're going to return to the ship we came in on," Espérance points out, "we have to walk back down to the city anyway. If that's on your way..." "You didn't think we were going to walk all the way back?" her father counters. "We *could* The Duke says. "But we won't." “I can be a pirate for a tick more,” Swan says. “And our ship is a good one. Unless you want to nick the other tub from Sax’s chopper squad. It had a few more berths than ours I’ll wager.” She glances over at Alex and then rubs the back of her sweating neck, thinking. “’Course, being on a boat with a human torch might be a touch unwise. No offense, angel. Still, I'm cool beans either way. I justw ant to get outta this heat. It's starting to make my pink parts itch.” "No offense taken," Alex replies with a smile. "I'll admit, I'm not secure enough in my control yet to feel comfortable with a boat, but they do say that the best tests are when you're under fire. Nothing makes you have to hold onto the fire like knowing that the only thing between you and an ocean of water is something flammable." A small shudder courses through her body at the thought of so much water around her fire-self and she slips a hand into Swan's. Swan’s hand meshes with Alex’s like it has always belonged there, squeezing her fingers. She says nothing. But then again, she really doesn’t have to. "I would be fine on a ship" Huttner says proudly. "However, were the ship to burn, only I would be well equipped to deal with the consequences. We should travel overland, perhaps a caravan." "I follow the lead of she who must be obeyed" Kolfa says, looking at Espérance. Swan flashes Espérance a smirking wink, “Ha! I knew you had that dominatrix thing goin’ on.” "That settles matters, then" Cazaril says. "We will travel to the harbor, pick up any possessions we have, part with our friends here in this shadow, and travel to the Courts. We stick to overland travel, until Alexandra's control over her power and disaffinity for water are tempered. It will permit us the opportunity for you to practice shadowshifting." "I trust" Cazaril looks at Swan "you still retain control over that ability even given this overlay of this Mandala's imprint? And you can teach Alex how to shadowshift?" He then starts walking down the mountain, in expectation of being followed. Espérance collects Kolfa and Hugo with her gaze, and starts after him. “Ain’t nothing but duck soup, Caz,” Swan replies. “Although dollars to donuts, ‘Lex’s version is the CliffsNotes of true Pattern. That Walk was definitely on the bing side of things.” She smiles at her lover, “Just keep it clammed around my Family. They’ll ing-bing all over your fine ass if they find out one of the Squishies can fold time and space, saavy?” She chuckles softly against Alex’s ear unabashedly, “Oh babe, you and I are gonna have so much fun in Shadow." "It is wise advice, Alex." Cazaril says "The Amberites will not appreciate the idea of a scion of a Pattern, even a distorted one, who lives in the Courts." “She’s got me to look out for her,” Swan says firmly. “If they mess with her, they’ll be messing with me. And most will think twice before twisting my unmentionables. But better clammed than damned.” "You should be careful when you are in the Courts, too." Huttner says to Swan. "He is correct" Kolfa says curtly. Swan smiles winningly, “Oh, leave it out. They’ll just love me to pieces. ‘Cause, I’m one charming tomato when I want to be.” Alex grins. "It seems" Richard murmurs to Espérance "that the conflicts between the nobles in Riverside are written even larger in this greater world of your Mother's." "Who would have thought *that* possible?" The Duke adds. "The larger they're written, the easier it is to spot them," Espérance notes dryly. "But that is also true of storms." Richard replies, in a tone similar to his daughter. Such is the tenor of the conversation for the remainder of the journey through the city and to the docks. Without incident, the group is standing in front of Swan's ship. "And here ends our fellowship, for now." Richard says to his daughter "If I knew how to sail her, I might ask your friend Swan for the loan of the ship. She's a beautiful vessel." "Ha, now you will want one when we get back to Riverside" The Duke retorts. In the meantime Huttner and Kolfa are toting items out of the hold and depositing them onto the dock in front of the group. “Thank you,” Swan says. “I built her myself. Sorta. Keep her, if you like. She got us through some hard knocks." She pats the gunsel and sighs wistfully. "My first real boat. Dad would be proud, I think." Not being the sort of person who habitually lets others do for her, Espérance goes aboard ship to fetch her own trunk. Swan head below decks to fetch her modest collection of things. When she's done, she joins the others back on the dock. "Ready when you are, fellow bindle punks. I think if we head inland I can spin us a path to follow." And with that, final partings (for now) are made with Richard and the Duke. Both embrace Espérance before they head off into the city, leaving the group to make their plans to head toward Chaos. "Are we just going to walk and carry our things, or should we get something for the luggage?" asks Espérance. “I usually rely on a stick, a bandana, and my getaway sticks,” Swan says. “But if you need a horse or camel, it’s gooseberry lay time.” She lights up another gasper and sighs happily. “Hey Caz. If I glom us a crate a few shadows from here, how far do you think she’ll run on the way to LogrusVille?” Cazaril regards Swan. "Originally, I had a different and more comfortable manner of taking Alex toward the Courts." "The train!" Alex says enthusiastically. "Yes" Cazaril says. "The Train. It will provide us some comfort and privacy for the bulk of our journey. Getting to a shadow where we might find the Train, however is something that you might be able to aid us with." "I suppose" Huttner says looking at Alex speculatively. "it would be less risky than a ship." He looks then at Espérance . "You'll like the train, I think. An extremely long, multi-compartment carriage which travels on rails." "Can one ride on the top?" asks Espérance. "That's what I always prefer with carriages." “If you don’t mind the smoke, I suppose,” Swan says. "Trains are also fast" Huttner says. "Strapping yourself on would be recommended." "To get ourselves and our gear to it, though, an Oliphant might be easy to find in this region of shadow, Swan?" Cazaril suggests. Swan jerks a nod, “I’ll see what I can drum up for us in the way of four-legged boilers.” She shoulder her bag and heads back into the city, instinctively seeking out the Trade Quarter. After near-death and a Pattern-Walk, she’s starting to feel the stain of the day. She doesn’t talk much, as a result. Not until her sensitive nose leads her toward the smell of sweat and dung. There is a subtle bit of shadowshifting that Swan needs to, and manages, to get it done. Whether or not they are exactly in the same city of Panaji and the same shadow is a matter of splitting hairs. What Espérance and Alex see, though, is that Swan goes invisible...but only for a flickering moment. Espérance blinks and wonders if she actually saw that; then decides that, on the whole, it's quite likely she did. The open-aired market is abuzz with activity and talk - a number of the citizens eagerly discussing the violence from earlier in the day. But crowds or no, it isn’t difficult to find the animal stalls. “I gather this might be it,” she says. The trumpeting cry of an Elephant is punctuation to Swan's words. In short order, the group is able to purchase the use of a large Elephant, gray skinned, with oversize tusks. A howdah is included, and so all of the trunks, equipment and personal effects can be loaded onto the huge beast of burden and transport. There is no one who immediately seems assigned to act as guide and mahout for the beast. Huttner, however, heads off to enquire about this. "There are greater wonders than this in Chaos" Cazaril says to Espérance. "We would use a demon in place of a shadow creature under most circumstances. Sometimes a mindless variety of elemental." "I like this one," Espérance tells him. "It doesn't look at all mindless." She grins slightly. "And I don't mind the transport being armed, either." She has been observing how the people in charge of the elephant are handling it. Swan waves her hand in front of her face, “He smells worse than my uncle Gerard after a two-week bender. Still, better than wearing out our soles.” She takes the time to pick up some supplies as well. The walking tank isn’t the only one that’ll need to eat. When she returns, she adds the food and filled water-bags to the howdah, along with some extra cushions. Having nearly died, she has no intention of ruining her a$$ as well. Finally, she turns her attention to the elephant itself and scratches her head, gnawing her lip. “Okay. Someone care to tell me where the steering wheel is?” she calls down at the others. "That would be me" Huttner says, appearing once more with a hook and a chain. "I've learned what I need to know." He puffs up his chest with pride and continues. "I get to drive the beast. All of you can get up into the howdah, and I will lead us. I suspect that you will pull us to the destination?" Huttner says to Cazaril. "Yes" Cazaril says. "To the nearest train station. It shouldn't be too far, judging from the path Alex and I took. But it could be an uncomfortable walk to carry our possessions without our elephant friend here." "Any objections?" he adds, looking at Alex, Swan and Espérance. "None at all." Espérance swings herself up into the howdah with ease and looks around, pleased by the view of their surroundings their lofty perch gives them. “Lead on, McDuff,” Swan says. She sacrifices a view for laying her head on Alex’s lap. After putting on a good show all day, she surrenders to the exhaustion playing every muscle like a cello in Strauss’ Don Quixote. She closes her eyes and doesn’t open them again. “If I start yapping in my sleep, wake me.” Soon enough everyone except Huttner-as-mahout are arranged in the spacious howdah. There is enough room for everyone to take their leisure on the padded benches. Alex's fingers lightly dance on Swan's scalp (and the fingers are just slightly warmer than Swan expects), and so the exertions of the day turn into a gentle, rocking, rolling ride. "Are you looking to rconverse, or to rest?" Cazaril says to Espérance. "I expect that between myself, and your bondswoman, you could find some rest. Really, only I and Huttner" Cazaril looks ahead and down at the young man confidently urging the large creature forward "are the ones that strictly *need* to be awake." "I will rest" Kolfa declares "only when She gives me leave to do so." Backlinks |
