Candice Dionysus: Prose and Non-Fiction

[Candice Dionysus]

Thank you, that means a lot to me.

[Candice Dionysus]

Wow, ok, so I have like actually twelve or thirteen chapters of this written... I can't believe I haven't updated it since the first one. Well, I'm going to.

[Candice Dionysus]

Dreams

The previous few nights she’d dreamed of trekking through black mountains under a blood red sky. She had been alone, but felt watched. It hadn’t been like she was dreaming. Falling hurt and she’d woken up sore. She’d seen strange tracks and heard weird animal and bird calls, and just before she’d woken up the first time a strange creature had lunged at her. It had looked like a cross between a wolf and a bird - the grey fur giving way to red-brown feathered wings; the padded paws giving way to blood-covered claws. It had been beautiful and terrible at the same time, and she was both glad and a little but sorry she woke up when she did. She kind of wanted to see it more clearly than she had.

The second dream had seen her in almost the same place as the previous had left her, but the creature was not there. It had been much the same, walking away from the large red-coloured sun, hearing strange calls, seeing tracks, the shadows growing in front of her, etc. It was a good workout, but it was hot and tedious after what felt like hours. The mountains had been on a steady downslope into almost tropical weather, and Anianka felt that she wouldn’t be able to stand the heat. Then the gentle rain began, and she was very grateful.

When she woke up this time she’d been sitting on what appeared to be a rough stone couch or bench - in all honesty it was probably neither - in utter ecstasy as the warm rain fell on her like mist.

It had been a particularly hot July night, so she was not surprised to wake up damp in the large house her Uncle had left her. But these dreams... They made no sense to her. She’d always hated hiking, so why was she dreaming of such an arduous journey in the mountains? It confused and amazed her, and she would do some research on dreams when she had a change to go online.

Her friends - the few she had - were all online. Everyone else were ‘acquaintances’ or ‘undesirables’. She liked those words because they were so much better than the rest. She had no real enemies or nemeses to speak of, just people with whom she shared a mutual dislike. And there was no one in the pissant little fuckhole of a city that she would ever consider calling a friend. It was that simple; they were all below her - her intelligence, her beauty, her grace, her abilities - totally below her. Or, at least, everyone she’d met, anyways. Her friends, though, online or not, were intelligent, they were on her level, and they could probably help her figure out the dreams.

One in particular, and Italian man in his late thirties, was into parapsychology and dream studies. It fascinated her, which was why they got along so well at first. They’d been talking for six years, sent each other letters, cards, trinkets... And spoke every chance they got. He was as close to a real partner as she’d ever gotten, and since she was of Italian heritage herself, she figured she might go see him, and see if it was the same in person... If the dreams didn’t drive her insane first.

It wasn’t so much the origin as it was the possible meaning that she really wanted to know - not the why but the what which was confusing her so badly. It was recurring, so it must mean something.

What she liked the most was the clarity of everything - the air, the stone, the red on crimson contrast of the sky, the sounds - and how she felt everything, including both rain and pain - even wind.

It wasn’t like a dream in any way until she woke up. Oh, but she still felt scrapes, had bruises, felt stiff, sore - in fact, she’d lost about ten pounds these past few days, but hadn’t changed her routine a single bit! And that made her laugh, when she really stopped to think about it.

In the dreams she knew who she was, but she had no memories of how long she’d been trekking, only that she’d finally left Barrie - Oh! How happy that made her - and she couldn’t wait to dream again, to visit -

( Maroque )

- that magical place once again, and be gone from Barrie, if only for the night, and... And...

Wouldn’t if be grand if she could sleep forever?

Ah, such silly little thoughts - not so much wishes as fleeting ideas. Anianka had PLANS, and ASPIRATIONS - real goals in the waking life... What did she have in the dreams? A weird desires to travel West as the red-orange sun coursed its way behind her.

What would she find at the bottom of the mountain path? What importance was it, really?

But the dreams had to be some sort of metaphor for something that her sub-conscious cooked up to make her really think - what did they mean?

She wished she could talk to Italo right this moment, but tomorrow was her off day, and so tomorrow it would have to be. She had a lot to do, and he was only normally online in the early morning until about one in the afternoon. By the time she got home he would be gone, probably asleep.

But she could wait one more night. Of course she could; she was patient.

[Candice Dionysus]

Memories

As a young girl Anianka was mostly ignored by her mother and father. She pierced and tattooed because she felt real, and it had made them notice her. When she pierced her nose her mother had slapped her, but allowed her to keep the damned stud in. A week later her father had kicked her in the side several times for getting suspended. It had hurt, but it healed. It always healed after time. What mattered was the attention; they were noticing her, and not just giving her food and money and clothing to go out into the world with.

In sixth grade she’d begun smoking. She knew all about it, the bad news was everywhere. She didn’t care. Her father had yelled himself hoarse, and then just hauled off and beat her black from the waist to the neck. Less than five months later she’d been injured during gym class, the remnants of her bruises still a yellow-black on her soft stomach and breasts. The nurses and doctors had taken her from her parents and she’d been given to an equally uncaring, though not abusive, uncle who had ended up raping her at age fourteen. What a joke that had been. His penis was so small it was no wonder he had to rape, it was the only way he’d ever get any. He did it again ten or twelve more time by the time she was seventeen, and then suffered a fatal heart attack in his sleep. He was forty eight. By that time she’d slept around with half the student body at her high school, Barrie North, male and female alike.

She’d turned to sex because it was the only time she really felt happy for the longest time, other than when she spoke to Italo. She’d met him a week before her uncle had raped her. When the bastard died the only person she’s told the truth to was Italo. He told her she was brave, and most women were too scared to say anything even after the person died. Then he vowed he’d always be there if she needed him, and she’d said something she’d never meant to say to anyone, “I love you, Italo. Thank you.”

“I love you too, Princess Anianka. I mean it.”

Then she’d had to log off for school, and she felt sad to have to turn off the camera and go be among those loathsome idiots that everyone called her ‘peers’.

She did love Italo. He was the only person she really did love. Yes, she would be a hairdresser or something, and move to Italy to be with him, even if they were only friends forever. She was finally sure she was capable of loving someone, and it was Italo Imperioli. That made life easier for her, to a degree.

[Candice Dionysus]

Maroque

Unsure of what had drug up such painful memories Anianka took a shower and went to sleep. At first it was dreamless, but slowly she opened her eyes on the blood red sky of Maroque.

She moved her hand to rub her eyes and heard someone jump back. Bolting upright she had just enough time to see a small figure run behind a rock. Her blond hair fell in her face as she stood up, and she walked over to the rock, absently brushing the loose strands behind her ear.

“Hello?” she asked, softly. “Who’s there?”

When there was no response she turned to go, assuming who or whatever it was had run off. What a strange place this was, though. The landscape, the sky, the inhabitants she’s seen so far. It was all so alien, so unique. So...

She stopped. Something ahead was glinting out in the black sand a little to the right of the path. The sun, at about the ten a.m. point in the sky, was reflecting off of something glass or metal, perhaps a weapon, it was too far to tell. If she could have a weapon she might feel safer. Next time the bird-wolf attacked she might not be able to get away - and how had she gotten away? There was no memory - one minute she saw it, the next it was morning and she was twenty feet down the path. Very curious, that. Where had it gone? Where had she gone?

Ah, but if that were a weapon! She began to run towards it, thirty feet, not too far... Twenty feet; a sword, perhaps... Ten; a dagger... Five; or a staff lodged in the earth... She stopped and bent down to examine it. A statue, roughly the size of a basket ball, lay at her feet.

She tugged at her shorts and unshouldered her backpack, kneeling to lift it up and examine it; the metal was freezing cold despite the almost direct sunlight almost all morning. It was made of what looked like gold, though she couldn’t be sure, and though it was so big it was very light. She looked it over and the sad face of a turtle looked back at her with black diamond eyes.

What the hell? She thought. A turtle statue in the black sand of a mountain in the middle of nowhere?

It was a curious item, and she wondered who dropped it there without noticing, Her hands began to go a light shade of blue, so she put the idol in her backpack and got moving again. She could see what looked like trees with black trunks and red leaves, and a slow, creeping fog around the bases.

“Wait!” A small, dark voice called.

She stopped and looked back; the small creature in front of her was maybe about four feet tall, blue skin and green hair. Her nose came out off her face about four inches, and there was a piercing on the left side. There were several piercings in her left ear, as well. Her outfit was just a strapless top and a short skirt. She had a long, lizard-like tail, and wore sandals on her small, lizard-like feet. Anianka stared into her bright oranges eyes, and the small monster advanced on her. Taking a step back Anianka’s eyes never left the eyes of the creature in front of her.

“Don’t go into the marsh alone. You’ll never come out again.” The creature told her. “I’m Kyonsei. I’ll go with you, but for the Gods sakes, don’t go alone!”

Kyonsei seemed urgent, distressed. Anianka stood apprehensive for a moment, then waved her forward. The two of them looked at each other for several moments, studying each other. Anianka adjusted the straps of her backpack, and the straps of her tank top. Kyonsei looked her up and down, from her fedora to her biker-style hiking boots which rode to mid-calf.

“What’s down in the foggy marsh?” Anianka finally asked. “Why is it dangerous?”

Kyonsei gave her a look as though Anianka should know, then said a single word; “Starblaze.”

“Who or what?”

“Starblaze is Monique’s pet snake. He’s over a hundred and fifty feet long, a real giant. He’ll eat you whole if you’re alone, but if there’s more than one he usually lets ‘em go.” She was staring off into the marsh, and looked contemplative. “Well, usually, but not always. You shouldn’t be all on your own in Maroque, Anianka. You could die or be killed and never get out.

“Fuck that, I gotta go through the marsh to get to the lake!” She surprised herself by saying so.

“Why? What’s at the lake?”

“I don’t know. But...” she closed her eyes for a moment, and then she was the one staring off into the marsh and looking contemplative. “Have you ever felt that you had to go somewhere? That nothing else mattered, because once you got there you would know what to do next, and why?

"There is something important waiting for me at the lake. I can feel it. I’m going to keep going until I either die or get there, whether you’re with me or not, so... If we’re going, lets go.”

Anianka turned and started walking back down the slope, and Kyonsei started to follow at a quicker pace, to be just a little ahead of her. They got in amongst the black trunks and wetlands, the little lizard-girl picking out a path. There were only birdcalls now, all other noises save their footsteps had ceased.

Along the way Kyonsei said only two words; “stay alive.” When Anianka tried to ask her other questions, she ignored her. They walked in silence.

[Candice Dionysus]

Interlude ( I )

At the center of a vast field of white roses, all at the beginning of blooming, lays a large - no, enormous - white rose. She is a gigantic, carnivorous plant who becomes very protective of her seedlings around strangers. Her belly is wide enough for ten people to lay upon, yet only one does; a slender, young-looking girl with ankle-length pink silk hair, deep, violet eyes and full peach lips. She was laying on her thin waist, one long, slender leg bent up at the knee, the black, silver-buckled heels clinging possessively to her calf. Her thin, muscular arms were crossed under her angular jaw, her hair kept from her face by a simple black headband. Clinging to her teenaged-girl frame was a dark purple, thigh-length sleeveless jumpsuit. She was talking to the rose - whom she called Snowbright - cheerily about anything from new inhabitants in Maroque to how her other pets were. Snowbright listened attentively, occasionally asking a question or two. Despite her appearance, this girl was not sixteen - in fact, it was more like sixteen thousand.


Regardless of the topic changes her mildly amused mood stayed the same. She knew she didn’t have to worry, because all of this was hers. She organised the few inhabitants, found ways to keep them that way, gave them ideas and knowledge, helped them. She was Monique de Maroque, the Princess of Nightmares, and this was her land.


Of course, she was the older and strongest demon in Maroque, and no human could hurt her here, or at the lake, or in her castle, or anywhere in her realm. She was in charge of everything and everyone that set foot in her realm. Everyone.


Since she’d found the first few struggling, hungry demons in her black and red forests she’d come to realize two things; because she’d helped them, and continued to do so, they were her’s to command as she wished - she had POWER over them. The second was that all of them had no memories of how they’d got to her world, and all thought they should have been dead for one reason or another. Soon she figured out that when humans died here they changed, transformed into demons and were stuck, forever her subjects. Soon after she had her demons, those whom agreed with her ideas, hunting and killing all humans in Maroque. Monique herself had no memories of ever not being in Maroque, though she must have been out at least once, for she couldn’t have been here always. Regardless of her memories she always had a grand time, the magic’s she had taught herself in the first hundred years or so were always evolving, always getting stronger, and her people were so helpful, so loyal to her... The Demon Queen, Princess of Nightmares, was never happier in all her years.


The red-orange sun was slowly giving was to the blue moon, ever round, in the crimson sky which would soon turn maroon, then black. Somewhere in the West Anianka and Kyonsei were just reaching a safe clearing in the middle of the Serpent Marsh, Starblaze granting them safe passage only because he assumed Kyonsei would take her in her own due time. When Anianka awoke for the night he would approach the small lizard-lady and speak with her for a bit. He didn’t like the taste of the dead, and he wasn’t hungry anyways. Monique didn’t really care, though she did know about Anianka trying to reach the Lake - if she’d gone in the opposite direction she’d have passed right by her just presently. Monique had hoped to have the girl at the castle one day soon - she was similar in personality, and if she didn’t die, Monique saw big things for her in her own world. This was amusing, and maybe the girl would be strong enough for Monique to release.


What Monique didn’t know was that the Turtle statue was found that day by the very girl Monique felt like playing with. Not that she’d make too big a deal of it; it was just a statue. But she might wonder why she didn’t see her find it - she was looking at the time.

[Candice Dionysus]

Dei

As Anianka was flirting in the bookstore in Barrie, Dei was sitting in the shade of a tree in one of the many courtyards of the Juniper Hill Sanatorium in Malakai, British Columbia smoking a Marlboro one hundred millimetre, alone. The spaced-out, long haired patient had a form of hypomelanosis, known as Oculocutaneous Albinism type one, which manifested in him as white hair, white skin, photophobia, purple irises, and hyperopia, or farsightedness. For this last he wore a pair of tortoise shell horn-rimmed glasses, which he was never seen without - except in bed.


Today he had his ankle-length hair out of its accustomed butt-length French braid - he’d been too lazy to re-braid it even as a knee-length normal braid after his shower - and his hat, a kind of black cowboys hat, lay forgotten on his shelf. To see him now you’d think her were a young woman, and not the nineteen year old boy he was.


Dei had been having unsettling dreams about terrible creatures chasing after young girls, and such. He had a lot of premonitions even before he’d been admitted - which was for destructive behaviour, at age sixteen - but he couldn’t stand the drugs, and stopped taking them. So, after a brief break in the precognitive REM, he had a lot of dreams of people who ended up dead within a week. The little girl from last night didn’t stand a chance.
His purple eyes darted around behind his glasses for a minute, then settled on the grass between his legs, one of which was bent up at the knee, his arm, the one with the smoke, resting on it.


The dream troubling him the most had been two nights prior, he’d not dreamed of someone else, but of himself. He’d been lost in a marsh, terrified or a snake he couldn’t see, and of never finding who he’d been sent there to meet. He’d woken up soaked, and looked around the room, unsure which was reality for a moment or two. And then he’d been unsure of which reality he’d been hoping for, the marsh or his room at the nut-hatch. He figured he’d never be sure which was better, and so he was just now recalling all he could of the vivid, lucid dream.


A sense of dread and fear mixed with wonder, amazement, purpose, waiting, and a deep feeling of need were very, very prominent the whole time. Most of all the need, he needed whoever he was waiting for, and felt they might need him, too. Heeding his gut instinct, he’d dodged and wove his way through the marsh with little trouble. For some reason he felt he might miss


( her )


the person he was here to find if he wasn’t careful about what path he took and where he ended up in this terrible, beautiful place.


He snuffed out his smoke in a small dirt divot that served as his ashtray, and lit another after a few minutes.


Snakes, swamps, mysterious strangers... The dream had everything but the kitchen sink! But would it be a one-shot, or would it continue? He found he wanted them to continue, wanted the fear, the need, the adrenaline he had when he awoke that morning. Even the disorientation, unsure of which was the dream, and which he wanted to be the dream.


Sitting in the shade, smoking his Marlboro bitch-sticks, Dei felt he had an epiphany.


Eleven P. M. Unknown to even himself, Dei has begun to slip into Maroque for the second time. His eyes fluttered and darted, his room changing into the clearing even as his lids slid closed for the final time that night.


The marsh... Oh God, the Snake! Dei scurried from the spot where his eyes opened, looking about. He was among the trees. Right. But still no safe; before him lay the single long trail of the serpents body. It had missed him... But how? And how long until it came back this way?


He slipped as silently as he could through the trees, carefully picking his path through the marsh. He was so sure that


( she )


the person would be there, where ever there was, sooner rather than later. He’d know where it was when he got there. It was imperative that he met up with them before the end of today, because it might be too late afterwards.


But maybe he was just being paranoid. He hoped so, but just in case... He would be there.


Day progressed to twilight with nothing be the marsh itself for company. As Dei walked up on the clearing he saw Anianka and Kyonsei, but neither were speaking; they just sat in silence, Anianka nibbling on something. He made his was up behind them, the breeze blowing his long hair out lightly behind him, as though it were a cape.


Anianka chose this moment to turn, standing up and looking right into his purple eyes. She know, all at once, that he needed to be with her at the lake. She knew the way an animal senses a natural disaster beforehand, and seeks shelter. Some things had to be. Others weren’t mandatory. Kyonsei, beyond this point, was not mandatory - though she may be helpful - but the white-haired androgyne before her had to be there on a “the planets will align” level, it was just meant to be.


She held out her hand, and Dei stepped forward to take it. There was a flash in their minds’ eyes’, and Kyonsei watched with mild amazement as they both collapsed.


Her purpose, he knew it now. Get to the lake, go from there... He felt her need, her desire, and he knew he had to go, too. Where else would he go? Her name, Anianka, he knew it now. Would she know his? Why was he here? How much information was just transferred between the two of them?


She had accepted him instantly, but he knew now she hadn’t been expecting him, hadn’t known there was someone (and hadn’t he known it would be a girl all along?) That she had to be with, had to wait for. Someone special, someone without whom things might go differently - wrongly. But when their hands touched something clicked on such a level it nearly knocked them out.


She was leaning over him now, her face wore a look of concern - this was, for some reason, unexpected.


“Dei?” She asked, unsure. “Is that your name?”


“It is if yours is Anianka.” He replied, trying to sound a little humorous. She smiled and helped him sit up, and for just one moment he wanted her. Just for an instant, then the feeling was gone.


She introduced Kyonsei, Dei feeling mildly unsure of her, but saying nothing. Kyonsei merely nodded, preferring not to speak, not to say anything lest she say too much.


Dei came to notice that Anianka was different than the caring girl bent over him he’d seen at first. She was anti-social, almost to the point of sado-masochism, and strong disassociative identity disorder, or maybe a highly advanced case of schizophrenia... She wasn’t sane, at any rate, so he’d have to be careful how he comported himself, and of the things he’d say. He didn’t want to piss her off, he was like that too, it was why he was in the nuthatch.

[Candice Dionysus]

Kyonsei

When Anianka and the newcomer, Dei, had vanished for the night Kyonsei left the clearing. She was going to do her own things, Monique be damned, and so be her pets. But she had help, of course. It wasn’t her against the world, Gods dammit, or she’d hide in a cave for eternity. No.


Ayrei was a winged creature modelled after Anubis, the Egyptian God of Embalming and protection of the soul immortal - head of a jackal, body of a man. He was also Kyonsei’s only friend in all of Maroque, just as Italo was Anianka’s only friend in all of the world. Or, her only real friend, the only one she trusted.


Ayrei was older than Kyonsei by far. He had taken her in when she’d died, been her guide, her teacher for the last four hundred years. And he was shadowing them now, so she went to him.


“Do you think she can, or should I kill her now?” she asked, not caring that it was a rude way to begin a conversation.


“Kyonsei, who’s ever wanted to get to the lake for no justifiable reason? She’s our best bet.”


“I’m not sure of her.” she replied. “I think she’s insane.”


“Then she’s more likely to really try, no?”


“I’m going to trust you,” she replied, “but if you’re wrong, I’m going to be so angry...”


“Pray I’m not, then.” he said. “Best bet.”


He smiled at her just then, his canine teeth sparkling in the bluish moonlight. He was sitting cross legged so that she wouldn’t have to crane her neck up to see him; Ayrei was six feet tall. He opened his arms and she went to him. He kissed her hair, holding her gently in his lap.


She didn’t like Anianka, but if Ayrei thought she could best Monique, well, she’d keep on it as long as she felt she was needed. Or until she was bid leave of the task. After all, there was only so much she could do for Anianka before she was useless.


“You might be able to teach her a few things, too.” Ayrei said, breaking her chain of thought. “Who knows?”

[Candice Dionysus]

The Serpent

Starblaze made his way top the clearing where he smelt the humans. The little demon wasn’t there, but she was close. His hissing breath drew in and out in huge, wind-like gusts, warm and strong. Normally he would have killed them by now, but he was curious about what the little one and her friend would do to them, now that the odds were even.


Monique might not approve of his god-like demeanor towards the situation, but his curiosity was getting to be very strong. Too strong to just kill and not find out what will happen. He was drawn in by some magic that was too old and too powerful to fight, so he went along.

Kyonsei, the Serpent hissed. It could not speak, but it could communicate in other ways. Come.


She looked up and saw the eyes, glowing purple in the light distance. Ayrei stood up, the lizard-girl in his arms.


“Starblaze!” he called. “Leave her alone, she’ll get to it on her own!”

Ssshe and I mussst ssspeak, jackal. Starblaze responded almost idly, ignoring that Kyonsei clung to her friend in fear. I mean no harm, little one.


She looked at the Snake doubtfully, Ayrei holding her close.


“No, put me down.” she said, deciding to trust herself to destiny instead of play it safe. This creature was not a god, nor was Monique, and she should not fear them as such. He gave her a look but did as she had asked of him. She smiled and tried to reassure him she’d be ok, but in the end she knew he felt no better for it. All she could do was go.


She slowly made her way over to the giant snake, scared for her life but doing what had to be done.

[Candice Dionysus]

Awake (Dei)

He opened his eyes, the lizard-girl still partially visible from what he was now sure wasn’t just a dream, but an Astral Projection of sorts. This was probably a side effect of trying to gain control of his prophetic dreaming - or maybe they were drugging his food with some experimental drug, or something. Who could be sure?


His room came into full focus and he began to search for his dream journal and pen. He opened it to a blank page before putting on his glasses to write. His long, colorless hair shrouded his shoulders and chest as he began to scribble down all he could remember of the dream he’d just had, and the one two days prior, about Anianka, and Kyonsei, the fear, the longing... And about the underlying sense of destiny; how he felt he’d have met with her one way, or the other.


Once that was done he hid it away again and got dressed. The sun would be up soon and he was going to be first in line for breakfast - and get it fresh for once. His roommate still slept, her breathing faint. They had to share a room because there were no other options. Otherwise, they’d never’ve been paired together.


Being of the now non-violent variety their door was unlocked. Dei took advantage of this to go for smokes at night - so did she, and often they’d go together, watching out for each other like siblings. He would do so now, in the west courtyard. But he made a brief bathroom stop, first, his bladder screaming at him with a rage. Things outside were bright, now, in a dull “the sun is comin’ up” manner. The hall to the courtyard also led to the main building, and was long, dimly lit, and marked with fake potted plants on tables at regular intervals. He was on the second floor, but that was alright. The staircase led directly to the boxed-in courtyard, so he didn’t really worry. If anything he would be glad for the fresh air and the cigarette - he was going a little stir-crazy (haha) in the overly-warm room.


The bottoms of his baggy pant legs got under his feet as he walked down the hall and stairs. The doctors and nurses were amazed he didn’t trip himself or fall by slipping on the fabric, but his trick was walking softly. It was amazingly preventative.


He had the smoke lit before he was even out the door, unable to wait, feeling uneasy. He rushed out the door and nearly tripped on a bench. Over by a large Willow stood Seamus, an older patient who was harmless, and spoke quite often of “crazy Negroes” and “gold plated corn on the cob.” Harmless yes, but also an ex-heroin addict, and at one point, a hobo on the streets. He was picked up talking to himself, and brought here. But because he was amusing, and he didn’t hurt anyone, Dei didn’t mind him being around. He was one of the few Dei could put up with.


Currently Seamus was watching the leaves rustle, and hadn’t noticed Dei yet. So he went and sat in his usual spot under the tree, the grass wet, and his dirt-divot ashtray lined with morning dew. He sat down, not caring about the wet. He wouldn’t be able to find Anianka, but perhaps she could find him. The only problem with that was the fact that neither of them knew where they came from until they woke back up. This meant he would need some way to remind himself, some way to change things, to... To... To alter the reality of the dream and bend it to his will.


Of course, if he would take, say, a note in his hand, then he would remember, and she might be able to bring it with her on the other side! Or maybe she could bring him out with her...


No, try a piece of paper first, see how it goes. Work your way, Dei. But he was already grinning at the possibilities - silently laughing.


“She’s the Devils Daughter come to take her throne.” Seamus said, idly. The suddenness of his voice made Dei jump. “And the other is Goddess in disguise.”


“Who’s that, Seamus?” Dei asked.


“Oh, she don’t remember, but she’s been around the worlds of the Yggdrasil before.” he rambled on. “Not the first world, the hidden world, but the other nine for sure. When the two meet, sparks fly, who ever loses, loses their very soul. No referee, anything goes. Don’t lose, Goddess.”


Dei stared at him, unable to tell if it were rambles or prophecy. Seamus fell to sitting and smiled, just then.


“Who’s the Goddess, Seamus?” he asked. “Who’s the Devils Daughter?”


“Elohim can save her.” Seamus said, and he closed his eyes. “Elohim can help her.”


“Who?”


“Them crazy Negroes took my bucket of fries again, didn’t they?” Seamus asked, opening his eyes. “I’ll get ‘em eventually.”

[Candice Dionysus]

Edit: double post. Sorry.

[Jon]

Just keep posting them, Can. I love them!

[Candice Dionysus]

Thank you so much, Jon. I should be posting a bit more in a few days. I'm trying to find my notebook, because I write it all in there by hand first, and its missing, so I can't continue without it.

[Jean]

soon I hope to buy a cartridge for my printer, print it out and read at last! I remember loving the beginning

[Jon]

I never write by hand if I can avoid it. My penmanship sucks!


Can., I love how your writing has quality and you put out a great volume of it.

[Candice Dionysus]

Jean, you make me blush. May your cartridge never empty (once you get a full one).

Jon, I feel a lot better about my writing if I write by hand. That way, I know I always have a main draft sitting around. I know its in my room, I just have to remember which box I shoved it in..
And thank you. When I write, I like to write as much as my brain can spit out at that time. But, since I haven't been roleplaying, my brains had a harder time exercising, and I'm finding my real writing a little harder.

[Jon]

Yes, my son, an avid writer, has greatly reduced his writing because of two RPGs.

[Steve]

He came back to the counter with a Stephen Davis novel, she likes his books, and when he looked at her she heard his breath catch in his throat. She turned, playing the innocent flirt, and she giggled on her way back to the counter.

I never noticed that before...

[Candice Dionysus]

Ah, Steve, you know I love ya. You're also mentioned in Web of Lies, a movie my characters went to see was based on a book you'd written. Hehe. We King fans gotta stick together, no?

[Jon]

A WRITING MACHINE!!!!!

[Candice Dionysus]

I just noticed I posted the same chapter twice in a row. I'll go change that.

[Candice Dionysus]

Awake (Anianka)

Damnit! She slammed her fist down on her pillow, the sun shinning in her window. She had today off, so she wouldn’t have to wonder all day how the hell there was the Turtle Statue from her dream next to her in bed this morning. This was getting out of hand, she had to talk to Italo, or she’d lose her mind.

She got up, grabbed a towel and hopped in the shower. The heat of the water released some of her stress, but she still couldn’t explain that statue, and it gnawed at her like a rat. How did it get there? What did it mean? In mythology the Turtle was generally a God-like figure upon who’s back rests the world – literally the weight of the world on its shoulders.

But not always – Christians saw them as symbolizing evil forces, and the Greeks saw them as the citizens of hell; and it was one of the four Divine Animals of Chinese legend, accompanying the Phoenix, the Dragon, and the Chimera. She breathed deeply for a few moments, turning off the water and drying her pale white skin – she noticed on her legs some cuts, strawberry slices in her smooth skin.

Oh well, they were small, they wouldn’t scar. Besides, she had to further her knowledge on Turtle Myths today, what she knew was little compared to what there was to know; a basic knowledge.

She made her way into her room, grabbing some pants and a blouse – she dressed this way on her days off or when she was hung over, unelaborated outfits were for when she was lazy. Wrapping the towel around her shoulders she sat at her desk and turned on her laptop computer. When it was booted up she logged in and opened all the programs that she figured she would need, including her music player. Maybe some Death Metal would put her in a better mood – it usually did.

Sometimes, usually randomly, she wondered if she was and angry person, but really she was just apathetic.

When she had her music blaring nice and loud she opened her messenger to look for Italo. She didn’t see him online, so she opened her browser and began to look up “Mythology; Turtle” in her search engine. She spent three hours scouring the results and taking notes. Then, as she was coming back from getting a sandwich Italo logged on. His messenger window and a web camera invitation suddenly covered the browser; Anianka happily accepted the offer and when it loaded, he waved to her.

”Hello.” She typed. “I’m glad to see you.”

”Is good to see you, too.” Came his reply. “How are you?”

”Freaking out a bit.”

”Why’s that?” He asked.

”This.” She replied, picking up the statue. Then, one handed, she proceeded to explain what had been going on.

”How unique.” Italo replied. “Story from a Live Action Role Play?”

”Er, no.” She wrote. “Something really going on.”

”No joke? No lie?” he asked. “You’re really serious?”

”Yes, I am.” She replied. “Have I ever lied to you before? What reason would I have?”
”Good point.”

“I’m really freaked out about this, hon.” She put down the statue, and shook her head. “I’m actually scared.”

“Its alright to be scared,” Italo told her. “We all do, unless we’re robots. Listen, I have no idea what’s going on while you sleep, but that statue is unique. Get it checked out by a pawnbroker or a jeweler, but don’t sell it. See what it is, got it?”

”Yes, I understand…”

“What have you found on Turtles?” he asked.

She thought about it for several minutes, and then began to type up everything she had, copying and pasting whole sections from certain sites. It took up the word limit per message multiple times, taking up over 16 messages. Italo took his time to read it all carefully, looking for any clues and trying to form a theory or two on this strange phenomenon.

After a short while he replied, and the two of them threw ideas back and forth for a while. All the time she’d been slowly gouging a hole in her desk between messages. This one was significantly smaller than the others, but was a sign of stress and worry – a habit she’d picked up in grade school many a year ago.

The most common result, they concluded, was that of the Turtle with the world on its back. It sounded somehow right to Anianka, though as with her desire to reach the lake, she couldn’t exactly say why. It nagged at her, of course, but there were more pressing matters this day. Far, far more pressing matters to attend to. Such as what she should do when next she slept, and if she could bring things in with her, as well as out.This idea scared her a bit, but if she could, she could bring a weapon next time; a dagger, or sword from her collection.

”Anianka, don’t do anything impractical.”

”I won’t, I promise.”

After a few more hours Anianka ended her conversation with Italo and grabbed the statue. What are you? She wondered, the cold metal numbing her hands easily. Why are you?

After a moment she put the statue in her backpack and got ready to go out.

[Candice Dionysus]

Roommates

The girl sat quietly beside the tree as Dei explained bits and pieces of the story to her. She figured, because of how well she knew him, that he’d finally actually gone off the wall and landed upside-down. But she listened attentively and made mental notes of things to ask him when he was done. Her roommate, what a guy.

Catie knew Dei to be one of the sanest patients there, but then, what was “sanity?” What was “normal?” Other than something the ignorant masses pushed on free-thinking individuals who they deemed “crazy” or “weird.” Ah, but she was waxing philosophical. She was here because she’d attempted to kill her eleventh grade History teacher. The man had tried to seduce her several times to no avail. The final time she had jammed a pencil into his forearm and tried to cut his throat with scissors. The teacher denied trying to take advantage of her, and with no witnesses, Catie plead insanity.

She did put up a convincing case, but hadn’t expected to end up here. That had been three years ago. She smoked her Virginia Slim, listening to the only person she got on with go truly mad, and sighed. Dei stopped.

”Catie, I need your help.” He said. “Right now.”

”What can I do?”

Dei explained his theories on bringing things in and out of the dream realm, and how he wanted to test it first with paper, and work his way up He told her if he could a note in with him, he might be able to bring something out. Or someone in.

She looked at him, trying to see how serious he was, if he was pulling her leg, but he seemed sincere and that scared her. That really made her uneasy.

Dei scanned Catie’s face for any signs of emotion – she was so good at masking it – but this time was surprised to find what looked like fear. He reached over to touch her face, to reassure her. Her long black hair fell in her face, an he lent in to fix it for her,
”Catie, I’m not lying.” He said.

”I… I know.” She replied. “That’s the problem, I believe you but its so strange…”

”Catie,” He smiled. “Its not so bad. Hey. I tell ya what… If it works, I’ll show you, I’ll take you there.”

Catie felt her face flush, and looked into Dei’s eyes; his smile was so comforting, so friendly. She kissed him, quick, and then looked away. Why had she one that? Why had she given to sudden emotion like that?

Dei’s eyes widened as she kissed him; this wasn’t what he had been expecting. He looked at her, seeing that she seemed embarrassed, ashamed. He took her hand to reassure her he wasn’t upset.

”Will you help me, then?” He asked.

She nodded, her eyes darting quickly to look on his quite briefly. “Tell me how…” She whispered.

Dei bowed his head and stood up, Catie standing with him. Silently they made their way out of the courtyard and up the stairs; the hall was so dim, so closed. Patients and staff wandered about, seemingly aimless. They both showed no signs of outward emotion towards anyone, looking instead both angry and tired. People left them be.

When they got into their room and closed the door she threw herself onto Dei, hugging him fiercely. He wrapped his arms around her waist, not understanding, but glad for the contact.

”How do we do this?” She asked. “What do I do?”

”Keep an eye on me… Look for changes,” he paused, “and see if I’m still physically here or not.” He leant over his nightstand and scribbled a note to himself and Anianka quickly. He knew she wouldn’t be there right now, but if this worked, he could keep the note until later. Catie’s help was very much appreciated, and he’d have to tell her so, afterwards.

She must have truly lost it herself to believe the young man leant over the small table before her. But there was no harm in indulging him in his own insanity, was there? She could always claim that, should staff choose to ask… But why would they? Silly Catie… They don’t care! She thought. Dei stood straight and turned, a grin on his pale, slender face. He looked beautiful just then.

”I’m going to take two pieces.” He told her. “A note, and one that has nothing but the word ‘destroy’ on it. When I do destroy it, it should be gone when I wake up. Tell me what happens.”

Catie nodded and sat down in the chair next to Dei’s bed. She watched him take off his glasses and lay down, the notes clutched tightly in his hands. He used a technique he’d taught himself to overcome insomnia, and after a while everything faded away.

-----

He opened his eyes to a large blue moon and golden stars in the maroon sky. It was mesmerizing, and he had to stop himself from getting fully entranced. The notes were there, it had worked. Now he had to destroy the one, but how?

He ripped it in half, then in half again and again. Then he let the breeze carry the pieces away. Then he froze. The snake… Where was it? It was close by, but… No, he had to wake up now… Now!

----

Catie’s eyes widened as the notes vanished from his grip, and he now seemed transparent… But no! Trick of the eyes, has to be… She stood up and leant over him. His breath was warm on her skin.

“Dei..?” She whispered. “Are you there?”

No response, of course, the albino was asleep. She sat back down and watched his body. His breathing picked up and he twitched. She stared, her breath caught in her throat. He was gone for a second… Just a second, and then he was back, sitting bolt-straight, panting, and with only one piece of paper in his hand.

”What?!” She was frightened, he was acting weird.

”S-Starblaze…” He whispered. He shook his head, unsure of reality even still. But… He had remembered to destroy the paper! Yes, because there was only one in his hand, which means it worked… He could, in fact, take things into Maroque.

Catie waited for a coherent response, but she was on edge. This entire situation was ridiculous, but it was happening… She’d finally gone over the edge into the black oblivion of true insanity.

”The snake is close to our campsite.” He said, finally calm enough to form a coherent sentence. “Starblaze has found Kyonsei, she was gone.”

”Ah…” She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Dei made perfect sense, and she was terrified.

[Candice Dionysus]

Truths to Come

Anianka sat clinging to her backpack and the frozen Turtle statue like a child might cling to her teddybear. The jeweler she had visited had studied the Turtle very closely for more than an hour, and offered her a ballpark estimate off the top of his head… Twenty-six point eight million dollars, but when she’d refused, he’d just kept going up and up until she’d simply walked out. He must have thought she was crazy, and maybe she was… But the statue seemed to claim otherwise, almost arrogantly.

So the statue was worth tens of millions, solid pure gold and perfectly rounded black diamond eyes. It hadn't looked as valuble, she thought, in Maroque. It was beautiful and pricey, and she couldn’t sell it until this was all done. If it ever ended, or she lived to see the end. Which she was seriously beginning to have doubts about. Her weapons room had many a sword and scimitar she could strap to herself and bring in as protection. Plus, she did know how to use most of them, because of her obsession with ancient war, battle, and hand to hand combat.

She got up, putting her backpack on and began to make her way home. Not only to choose a weapon, but to hide herself away from the world she so hated.

She got home at about the same time Dei was destroying his paper in Maroque, hiding the bag under her bad and going into her weapons room. She’d inherited the house, which was owned outright, from her uncle, and only paid the necessary bills like hydro and internet. What to bring with her tonight? She looked around the room, carefully considering her options, and found she couldn’t decide from her functional models. Her swords, throwing knives, crossbow, compound bow, various daggers… There were too many options, too many working weapons. Her indecision mocked her, giggling cruelly from a safe distance as it blocked her choice from getting through. And so she sat among her various blades and sharp objects, unable to reach a final verdict, but unwilling to give up.

Finally she was able to decide upon a scimitar and short sword, a bowie knife, and for good measure, her compound bow and quiver of arrows. Pleased with her selections, she moved them to by her bed, and busied herself with making some food.

-------

As she browsed her fridge, looking for what to make, she considered everything, but most specifically her connection to the Turtle, and why she’d found it. If the Turtle was a God, it was trying to tell her something; but what? This business with the other world, also… Why was she going there? What was drawing her there? How could she end her constant nightly adventure in a dream realm? She knew she needed to get to a lake, but not why. What would happen when she got there? Why? But she had none of the answers for these questions, and it vexed her.

”What the hell is going on?” She asked herself, heaving a sigh. “Why is a Turtle so important?”

She pulled out the ingredients she needed after deciding on a nice Rosemary Chicken, and turned the oven to the correct temperature. She did not see the Turtle statue begin to glow at the eyes, or feel the temperature of her apartment begin to drap as the gold mouth opened to release a cold mist. She measured the ingredients, and prepared the chicken in the pan, and when she finally was enveloped in the frozen air of the icy mist, it was too late to even scream; time stopped.

[Candice Dionysus]

Chapter One

After eating dinner with her parents Silanis returned to her room, her ferret kicking up a little bit of a racket. Taking her food bowl and filling it, Silanis cooed to her ferret, Libra, and scratched under her chin just a little. Libra licked at her fingers, and then ravenously dug into her food. Silanis giggled softly before going into her bag to grab the small box she had found on her way home. Upon further inspection it looked mechanical, like some of the safes and jewelry boxes she had seen when she had visited the market at Lakshûr to the South when she was younger. This meant that the three buttons on the top were probably some sort of code, which meant there were only so many combinations to try before she got the sequence correct. Turning it over, she took another peek at the inscription. It seemed inconsequential, trifling. One son comes around; millions cannot stand to his power. Maybe it meant something, and maybe it didn’t. She thought on it quietly, trying to decide its usefulness in opening the box, but it made no sense.

Turning the box over and over to study it, she considered what her options were. Then, while she was about to give up, she noted the buttons were colored and something in her mind clicked. One son… Son… Sun! Of course! Her mind raced as she made the connection, and she scarce knew what she was doing before she pressed the yellow button. Hoping she was right, she held her breath and watched. Nothing happened, and her heart sank as she had felt for sure that she had figured it out.

When she turned the box back over to look at the inscription again and ponder it, however, her eyes widened and her breath hitched in her throat. With a choked yelp she dropped it. The words had changed somehow, and as far as she knew, there was no technology for something like that. Libra looked up from her food lazily, sniffed the air, and went back to her bowl with what seemed like a shrug.

Tentatively, Silanis picked the box back up and looked at the inscription to be sure her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her. There it was, defiantly staring back at her as if it had every right to say something different, and she couldn’t explain the feelings that evoked in her. There was no way, no conceivable way, that those words could have possibly changed when she pressed the button; she had never heard of anything like that.

But it was another useless sentence that seemed of little consequence, and Silanis was almost certain now that this was some sort of game of riddles, despite none of them being actual questions. Considering this new sentence carefully she remembered back to her childhood, visiting the fair in Grenview to the West. To the riddling competition that took place. They took the game very seriously, it was one of the most ancient, and she remembered hearing somewhere that riddles had been used for everything from a test of wits to making a wager to save your life. What could this one mean, then, by stating quite uselessly “see shells on the beach, and gulls in the sky?” The sheer irrelevance of it was nigh infuriating, and she was, in spite of the shock of it, rather displeased with how this box seemed to be working. Reason dictated that she shouldn’t hit a random button, for fear of what might happen were she to get the answer wrong, but yet she could not guess on her own just yet as to the correct answer. It only made sense that you would see shells on a beach and gulls in the sky, and yet the incontrovertible sentence seemed to manage a manner of ambiguity to it, which even still eluded her.

Silanis moved to take a break, shuffling through an old book of riddles to see if there were any of these sorts. As she flipped through the pages, lounging back on her bed with the box next to her, she didn’t seem to find anything of importance. This line still befuddled her, and she was growing impatient with it fast. What did it mean? She was tempted to throw the box at her large pile of stuffed dolls in the corner, but held back, fearing her aim not so good. In a huff she opened a dresser drawer and aimlessly started to ruffle through her clothing. She came upon a bathing suit at the bottom, and remembered the times her mom had taken her to the port at the tip of the peninsula, Port Canchâs, and she had gone swimming at the beach. Then it clicked in, and it took her a moment to realize she now had the answer. It was water that was what had been eluding her. She pushed the blue button and quickly turned it over to see what new riddle had taken its place in the inscription.

The words that awaited her confused her even more than the previous. It said, “The blade is not sharp, but can be very long.” This infuriated Silanis, because she knew nothing of weaponry, and there was no way she could ever figure out the answer to this question. Regardless, she began to list off all the weapons she could remember in reference to the word blade. Her list was terribly short, and not long after she realized none of what she had come up with corresponded with a color anyway. In a huff she sat upon her bed with her arms around her knees.

Why did the riddle have to be about weapons, she wondered, when that was one of the things she knew nothing of? She wanted desperately to see what would be on the inside at the end of it all, but of this she had no clue. What kind blade made sense with a color, and was not sharp? It couldn’t be blue again, but there was no silver or gray to push, and none of the colors would mix to make it. She closed here eyes, feeling very silly, and tried to clear her mind. Who did she know that she could ask about such things? Unfortunately there was no one whom she was able to think of off the top of her head.

But of course there had to be some simple answer to this, and she was just thinking much too hard on it. This couldn’t really be so impossible as it was making itself out to be, and she would surely be able to think of an answer on her own in time. She heaved a sigh, getting up to change into her pajama’s, and going through her own nightly ritual of bidding goodnight to the moon and stars. Perhaps she would be able to think more clearly in the morning, after breakfast and a quick run to wake herself up.