The Change

Dun dun dunnn! Michelle leaves Joshua in the darkness... literally, as she is taken away to pass the torch of her family's secretive - and utterly chaotic - lore-filled past heritage. The heritage of the incubus Camangelo of Black.




The Change


Joshua glanced at Michelle as they walked out of the hospital hand in hand a week after the shooting. They had spent the last few nights deliberating what they would do after they left, and finally she convinced him to let her split up from his side to go with her inner ‘gut’. Joshua had refused and avoided it, but she had won him over, and he knew she was right. Pero wasn’t after her, Pero was after him and if he wasn’t with her, all the better.
Joshua glanced over at her and sighed. “So when will I see you again?” he asked, squeezing her hand and avoiding her startling eyes as they strode down the street. Michelle stopped, leadign him aside into a dark alley.
“Soon.” Is all her heard as s great darkness dropped over them, wisping her away before his eyes. He felt his heart drop as her warmth left him, the darkness brooding. On instinct, he stumbled backwards, and then the sunlight was back in full. Strange. This wasn’t the street he’d been on before. He was in the better side of the city now, somewhere Pero’s rein had never leeched out to. Somewhere he could wait out the next few nights in peace. Until Pero found him and sent his thug-buddies to retrieve him.




Michelle stepped through the Darkdoor, something she had only learned about recently in her dreams where the ‘Angel of Death’ himself had visited her. How could this portly elderly man be Death? She wondered, barely able to get out of his chair, quiet like the spring breeze. Or was it a fake weakness he used to lure victims in, victims deserving of their fate?
With a raspy voice, he waved his hand to bring her closer, not by any will of her own, foecing her to kneel beside the chair. “You have been chosen, by blood and blood before you,” he grated, making her look at him, his blank, listless eyes sending chills up her spine. “You are the Countess… of the Other side.” He explained.
She knew the family lore. Somewhere along the line, where fantasy and reality blurred the lines and spilled into one another, they had claimed the heritage of a single black angel, Camangelo. He was never referenced in other lore. She would be the last living relative, and now havign found her great uncle, though she did not know how or why, she’d come full circle and would become the second countess of the Black.
“Michelle, what do you know about Camangelo?” he asked, turning away from her.
“He… was a fairytale. It’s family lore, uncle, you should know.” She said, in little more than a whisper. The older man smiled.
“He was the most powerful angel of black, the patriarch of your – our- family, an incubus of great power. I am Camangelo.” He gritted, turning to her with a wide, wicked smile. “And I am nearing the end of my three century life. I have chosen you to carry on the greatest legacy.”
Michelle nearly dropped cold. Had it only been a fairytale? She had to believe the blackness in his eyes. “Cam-Camangelo? I am… I am to be…” she stuttered.
Camangelo nodded and stood, his body shivering violently. “Soon. Tonight, I believe. Come, come… time to pass the torch.” He said, his smile dimming. “I only regret that I have not the will to force you to the deed, it is your choice to take this gift.”
He explained, offering his hand to her. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t begin to comprehend this. She could refuse, and go back to a normal life but no, it was much too late for that. But what did this all mean? Oh, too little time, too many paths were there for her.
“What would… to become Countess of Black, what would be asked of me?” she asked in a soft tone. Camangelo’s smile expired.
“The child. Succubi cannot have children in the Black, only after your two-hundreth year may you choose a successor. You may not marry. You will not age until your three-hundred and eighty-eight year of life as Countess. You may not show yourself to goodly folk except to tell of serious impending doom, or to join past lovers. Daytime is forbidden to you, and your body will become ethereal.”
Michelle didn’t even feel the tears and the lump in her throat as she took her hand and determinedly nodded. She knew the powers of succubi were a great gift, and she knew that with them she might protect Joshua. But that he would never live to see her choose the successor.




That night, as Camangelo lay in the bed next to her, she felt the changes begin. His body turned to ashes and bones next to her, but she couldn’t notice through the agony. She groaned as she felt the aches in her bones and her flesh’s tingling as they became less than touchable. Soon, she could see that, through her tears, she couldn’t see herself showing up on the pool of water beside the bed. Until she willed herself to
As a scantilly clad maiden. She was no different, but her beauty had an exotic allure now. Even women would be sorely tempted by her in the many years to come.
Michelle turned to what was left of Camangelo’s body, whispering her thanks and smirking. Pero always had a soft spot for beautiful women, what might he do if his arch enemy’s wife to behold showed up nude at his bedside?

Bodies and Minds - Part Two

Another update, the second part of Bodies and Minds. (Betcha didn't see that coming!) I am going to try my hardest to keep this story alive, if it takes pins and needles to do it. Note the new divider, chapters are going to be going through one or more areas at a time. I didn't have much choice on dividers, sadly. (If I make my own, I'll edit them in ASAP...)





Malifain felt odd as he handled the two scimitars he’d been instructed to wield for now. Poison, in his left hand, glowed and angry green and gold, while Paradise hummed with a light silver and blue highlights.
“Now, show me what you know, as you please.” Lilithia silently bade him, watching and making noises as he tried his damndest to make use of them. The blade caught, steel ground together and with a clang, both of the scimitars hit the dirt five feet away. Malifain swore and tromped over to pick them up, pausing as Lilithia took control of his body. He felt the natural numbness as his nerves began to heed her call, being sectioned off into his own mind.
“Like this,” She said aloud, her voice as clear as the sunshine outside in the dirt arena. “Not so fast at first.” Lilithia instructed him, weaving the scimitars after having picked them up. “Use this one,” she said, lifting Poison to act out an attack. “To attack, the other,” she murmured, feigning and making a strong parry with Paradise. “To parry.”
Again, the numbness as she back away, letting him flow back into the body. He shivered, following her movements.
“Good.” She whispered, tinkering with her mind to let him see he fighting rituals, which she had been known to join with Drizzt in the early summer mornings. Left, over that stump, up, hack-hacking away at the dead stump. As he followed her guidance, soon the wood chips were fine and smooth, the scimitars answering his every call.
But he was not expecting her next step, as she reached out with her psionic powers and excited the wood of the stump.
“Retreat!” she briskly reminded him as the wood heated and splintered in his face, just as he rolled off to the side. Chuckling as she watched him pull bits of burning bark out of his long black ponytail, she reminded him not to stop moving the blades. “You’d be a dead elf.” She hissed.
“That’s enough fo today.” Cadderly chimed, smiling as he watched Malifain. The scimitars snapped back into their sheaths as Malifain returned the greeting with a smile of his own.
“Hello Cadderly.” Lilithia whispered through all three of their thoughts. Cadderly nodded and replied, though Malfain couldn’t hear it.
“Progress?” he questioned, his raised brow completeing the punctuation. She replied, making him smile, though Malifainknew better than to think she was making jokes at his horrible fight skills.
“Well, I see that you’re doing well,” Cadderly said, looking to Malifain and chuckling. “We’ve received a runner set by Drizzt.”
Both Malifain and Lilithia connected the dots, their shared heart stopping briefly. Cadderly smiled as Malifain’s smile almost wilted.
Cadderly shook his head. “No, good news. Drizzt and Catti-Brie have met and are close to getting the cure for her.”
They both heaved a sigh together, Lilithia and Malifain, both of them having become as one almost in their body. It would soon be time for them to chase Solanil down. As Cadderly departed, leaving them to think, Lilithia asked Malifain the key question.
“Will they make it back soon enough?” She whispered, her tone blank of sarcasm, anger or pride. Malifain shook his head, reaching with a hand to wipe the bead of sweat off his brow. They could only pray that he would make it back before her body expired, trapping her in Malifain’s thoughts.





Drizzt reigned in his tall black stallion, looking back over his shoulder to where Catti-Brie and her spotted white gelding were sinking into the mire. Somewhere far to the east a thunder bolt sounded, reminding them of the shortly-passed thunder storm. Catti-Brie groaned as she slid out of the soaked saddle to lead her horse up to Drizzt, handing the reins to him as she got up behind him. He handed her back the reins as he walked the stallion up the dimly moonlit trail ahead of them.
“Dawn will come soon.” He assured her, pushing back the soggy cowl of his cloak to look up into the stars, then farther ahead. When all he heard in return was a sigh, he glanced back at her. Shaking her head, Catti-Brie frowned.
“Why did ye never tell me?” she whispered, folding her arms and wobbling as the stallion’s hoof slipped in the muck. “Ye had a daughter and now she’s about to die and ye never telled me.”
Drizzt’s shoulders slumped as he took a deep breath. “I did not even know I had a child, until I saw her… fighting. She’s much like Zaknafein.” He told her, his tone soft and reminiscent of better times past. “It’s a shame he never met her.”
“And a shame I might not either!” she said, so suddenly it made the stallion flinch. Drizzt stopped the horse and turned to her.
“She adores you, Catti-Brie. Lilithia is searching for her hero, as I found in my father, and perhaps… perhaps she needs a hero in you.” He said, his curious smile infecting her and making her grin.
“Oh no ye’re not! Ye can’t-“ she was about to protest that he obviously wanted Catti-Brie to be as her sister.
“Not for an old friend?” Drizzt prodded, signalling the horse on and looking ahead. He smiled all the wider as Catti-Brie laughed.
“Okay, ye want me to foster yer little girl because she’s not a daddy’s girl.” She said, waving away what might have been a completely different proposition. Drizzt shrugged.
“I cannot be the mother she never had.” He grimly reminded Catti-Brie. He had slain her mother some years ago, when Lilithia was barely a toddler. She had been raised for the greater part of her life by Jarlaxle and his band of criminals, raised into the height of sorcery when they had been forced to return her to her grandmother, Matron Baenre.
Catti-Brie winced. “I will. For her.” She conceded, patting him gently on the shoulder. He smiled again, glancing back to her.
“You will, no doubt, find in her the sister you yourself never had.” He pointed out. “Two more miles and then we let the horses rest while we dry off.”

Bodies and Minds

WOO! Another Lilithia update, although it's a bit thick and bleh... and short too, it's something. We'll visit back to Drizzt and Catti-Brie later on, and then find out how much fun Malifain and Lilithia are having just learning to fight as one...





Bodies and Minds


Malifain sat near Lilithia, looking to Celaine in question. They had been discussing a body-switch, to allow Lilithia to go and find Solani as Drizzt searched for the herbs to save her body. Without a doubt, Lilithia had agreed.
“Let me, Malifain.” She fought stubbornly, coughing black ooze up onto her lips. Malifain shook his head again, frustrated with her.
“And what of your body, and mine, if you are killed?” he asked, looking from her to Celaine. Celaine shook her head and shrugged, not able to explain before Lilithia cut in again.
“If I die, your body will again switch with mine. There is another way, though the magical taxation might kill a lesser mage.” Lilithia dared mention, sighing. “Cadderly can help. Summon Cadderly magically, he can transfer my conscious into Malifain’s and my body will become moot.” She rasped, turning over to sleep. Malifain shook his head again, questioning this wisdom as he stood, tucking the drow elfess in as she slumbered. He and Celaine turned and left the cottage after garnering the supplies they would need to call for Cadderly.
“I can’t let her do this,” he hissed, frowning with Lilithia’s ultimatum squarely on his shoulders. “Her father would be angered if he came back to find a living dead body.”
Celaine only nodded, wanting to be done with her task.
“I can’t do this alone.” She stiffly reminded him, his eyes glazing over as he begasn to think of loopholes on the grounds why Lilithia couldn’t borrow his body. He found nothing, and then he saw, as Lilithia intruded upon him, that she meant not only to borrow his body, she was going to use it as her own!
“Well Lolth be damned and Mielikki be proud…” he muttered as she began to impart visions of her previous feats. He chuckled at her prowess s she slipped away again, perhaps taking off that amulet to better sleep. Or perhaps silently probing his thoughts.
Are you ever concerned she’ll see something in there she does nto like, Malifain?” Celaine asked, putting the finishin touches on the inter-planar gate as he shook his head.
“Merely she’ll find something she likes too much.” He lamented, sighing. Celaine smiled, chanting softly and soon, before them, the puddle of silver that was the inter-planar gate splashed forth, an no doubt, another one in Cadderly’s private chambers. Celaine looked to Malifain, and for neither had seen cadderly, Malifain would speak for Lilithia.
“Cadderly, sir, we have with us a friend of your friend. Drizzt Do’Urden’s daughter has fallen ill and he is now out on the path to get her a cure, but we need use of her body. She is conscious, but is too weak to help us hunt the would-be murderer down.” He explained, his face not hiding the concerns. Cadderly nodded and gestured to the pool.
“Is it thick enough to walk through?” he asked, looking to the woman beside Malifain.
“Oh, pardon, I am Celaine and this is Malifain Sachereil and yes, it should be stable.” Celaine quickly spurted, stepping back and trying to develop her concentration. Gate-stepping was a tricky task, and exhausting too. Cadderly stepped through, and the puddle dried up suddenly, cutting off a sliver of his pant leg.
“Oops.” Celaine whispered, blushing and apologising. Cadderly waved off the apologies, turning directly to Malifain.
“I have waited for so long to hear from the ranger again, and his is the daughter I am seeing?” he asked with a courteous smile. Malifain nodded and showed the priest in, sitting beside the bed as he talked quietly with the ailing elfess. Soon, both had nodded their agreement, Lilithia providing the whereabouts of all her weapons, and then her magical items as well. Cadderly prepared the herbs right there in the room, for Malifain and Celaine to watch. Cadderly rolled Lilithia over, clasping her hand with Malifain’s as he sat beside the bed on a wood chair, then tying them together with spider’s silk. He motioned Celaine over, and Cadderly guiding her, began the chant that would permit Lilithia to fully take over Malifain’s body. After fifteen minutes, they left the room, so the other two could discuss privately their goals. Lilithia’s body breathed slower now, coughing less and never moving. But Malifain jerked as Lilithia spread her being into the corners of his mind. She cursed him silently, for they only heard each other’s thoughts, nothing more, and he had not lowered one wall of anger to let her see what lay beneath it.
“Malifain, for the sake of the gods…” she asked, pressing again. It was givign him a headache, but if it did, so be it. She didn’t need to know his fears.
“N… no…” he grunted, shifting on the floor. Lilithia was too wise, too impatient for such a fight, and he fought her smile as she consciously took over his nerves, imparting feelings on his body the way she had learned in Menzoberranzan.
He felt light like a feather, all his body displaced of time and cares. He was warm, so warm he wanted to take off his clothing, and so he did at her bidding. And then, a trick of the mind, Lilithia’s bare body appearred before him, encircling his and teasing it with kisses across his jaw, but nothing more.
“Malifain, Malfain…” she chided in mental whispers, “Now come, come to my bed my sweet rose.”
Malifain obeyed. Without knowing it, he remembered ending up on the bed, Lilithia’s visual thoughts of her body entwined around his, above his. As her lips met his, the sensation was more than real, but as they made love, something went terribly wrong.
To him at least.
At last, she slipped past the wall, lowered by his lust and excitement, and now she looked upon those thoughts as he thrashed in the bed. Her visual thoughts of her own body had dissapated, he’d realized, right as she bored through. He began to growl as she sauntered into that all-private grouping of thoughts.
“You… you fiend…” he growled, only making her force him still with magical chants. She could feel the immense, overwhelming hatred, the jealousy and the grief at Solanil injuring her. So her assumptions were right, he observed, as she let him see her thoughts more clearly in the clouded interior of his mind. She backed away, pushing her own hatred and jealousy of Celaine into that small corner and then she did something purely miraculous.
She obliterated all that hatred.
“Now,” she whispered, releasing his body and willing him to dress, “Trust me as you would trust yourself, Malifain, for if we are not working and thinking as one, we will die… as one.”
Malifain nodded, though he knew she was thought-speaking to him. As he strapped on her belt of weapons, along with her amulet and her timeless leather wrist bracers, he smiled, feeling weightless without the guilt and the hate. Cadderly and Celaine had re-entered to check on them, and they saw the twinkle of golden and violet behind Malifain’s blue eyes. But silently, Lilithia reminded Malifain this was only the beginning.

Bulletin #2

New chapter - not finished. So... it got badly neglected and I may just have to rewrite it anyways, I hate the layout. I've been working on art projects left and right, and they're eating my brain, plus papers to fill out and sign. Fresh out of summer school, no problems. I will try to get that chapter up so I can get the next after it too.