I've been interested following some stuff here. and I thought I'd put this out for anyone needing help with naming characters.
For multi-lingual inspiration, you can visit Yahoo! Babel Fish
Searching for something, usually one word, can get you started. (I.E.- hunter for a wide variety of words. (Hunter, blood, stalker, carnivore, villain...)
Swahili Translations are helpful too, for more natural or tribal sounding names.
I prefer exotic names, usually ones that stick in your head very easily. I like to use the letters M, Y, U, N, K E, R V, and Z or X in names, such as Khamunette, Manyx, and Zakyr. Latin can also offer base words but efficient and accurate translators are few and far between for it.
For more Forgotten Realms-ish names, I usually take two words to describe and bond them. (Stone, strength = Amsul Shinstones. A dwarven cleric?)
The names above and below are open for use until further notice, as an offer. None of them are claimed by my copy righted characters. Note, they are NOT in any order except that which they were composed in and I will try to update/add more when I get them. (Remember, these are generics. I can't be accounted for the meaning or whatnot. They're not race specific either.)
Akanhsa Kellan Kual Umna Hargyth Haramet Kammisut Paramier Ulan Khenner Tannar
Raegammon Senaed Sorrophena Alkern Haeyn Zaenner
Specific names: (SW. for Swahili meaning, IT. for Italian, SP. for Spanish, FR. for French, G for German.)
Uzuri *Zuri*- (SW.) 'Beauty'.
Makosa, Atakosa- (SW.) 'Sin'.
Umia, Umiza, Uchungu- (SW.) 'Pain'.
Haine- (FR.) 'Hatred'.
Odio- (IT.)'Hatred'.
Thursday, September 4
Sunday, August 17
Fear of Changes
This is something I found out among the many, many articles on the web. Sadly, I couldn't find the name of the author, but I'm sure that they won't mind.
"Sometimes a person is their own worst enemy.
The girl who fears change because she thinks she knows when she does, her 'friends' will all desert her. The person who has he heart of a lion, hides in the guise of a rat, to keep the spotlight of stares off their own back.
People who don't aspire to anything, or so they say, do jus that; They aspire to hide from those parts of themselves and those around them they think they cannot possibly embrace.
I have walked both paths, feeling at times only hatred and laziness, knowing without a doubt that love was a myth and kind deeds a weakness. Until those days a certain person touches me or a certain thing happens and then I see only where my heart lies, among the fields and meadows, next to my friends, next to my only lover's heart.
I find myself, everywhere, not inside, not outside, but in both places and in everyone I meet.
People may act as if some kinds of normal aren't normal. Not to them I believe, but to the person who believes that they are very normal. Normal isn't being a carbon copy, and those people who say 'be different!' would very much do well to listen to themselves!
Paris Hilton, Miley Cyrus and Oprah can, bluntly, fuck off. Not everyone has a million dollars to endorse their claims. Nor the freedom to put it on TV. Sometimes people need to turn the TV off, go outside and look up into a dark sky. The sky is never the same, so how can we be the same? People vary and change like the seasons, and what may be normal to a skinny person isn't the same to someone who is fluffed.
Certain people need to realize that sometimes the best changes are not a conscious choice at all. Most of the time, the best changes are those laid before us, the obstacles we face everyday morph us into who we should be.
And fearing change sets us into motion to change faster, and before you know it... you're either the lowliest scum, or you're the happiest person. My happiness isn't in money, I have often gone without it for months, surviving off of pittances from family and friends. But surrounding myself with loyal friends willing to do such for me when I run out of road... that they pave it for me... it makes me feel that I have the life I desire. And the one I love, when I hit a bump in the great road ahead of myself, he will always be there, no matter how far away or how much we think we hate each other at the moment.
Changes are not what we see. They are what we know to be true. Change is inevitable at best, impossible some times, and painful, always, even good changes. But that doesn't mean they're bad.
You can go through hell, but what does it matter if the experience you recount is happy, or a foreboding story to be retold? Even if you end up a lowly gangster, you have homies, and even then, when you're hated most by the 'normal people', you know you've been through it all and you can laugh in their face when they hide from such experiences.
Walk both paths, for the world is not divided among 'light' and 'dark'. Good and evil belong only in fairytales and myths, blind faith and blind wandering belong in the hearts of those unfaithful to themselves. Being a person, being yourself, and knowing the world around you, no matter if they accept you or not, is going to be the best of what you make of it is, after all, what everyone should have as their goal. There will always be peaces where war ensues, blood and tears of joy, sweat and a cool breeze. But come what may, it is your choice to change the light bulb when it flickers on that page of your life - That the light may reveal to you things are not so gloomy after all... It only takes one hand and fives fingers to change it, but it takes a mind and a heart to see the truth! And if you would rather leave that bulb to flicker, kudos - Those willing to brave the darkness are rewarded for their trials in the glorious rays of moonlight after the clouds pass.
May no two paths be the same, and well wishes to those who wish it upon themselves. Sometimes losing your way is actually finding another, often one you thought you would or could never traverse. Have faith in yourself and your friends."
Unknown Author.
"Sometimes a person is their own worst enemy.
The girl who fears change because she thinks she knows when she does, her 'friends' will all desert her. The person who has he heart of a lion, hides in the guise of a rat, to keep the spotlight of stares off their own back.
People who don't aspire to anything, or so they say, do jus that; They aspire to hide from those parts of themselves and those around them they think they cannot possibly embrace.
I have walked both paths, feeling at times only hatred and laziness, knowing without a doubt that love was a myth and kind deeds a weakness. Until those days a certain person touches me or a certain thing happens and then I see only where my heart lies, among the fields and meadows, next to my friends, next to my only lover's heart.
I find myself, everywhere, not inside, not outside, but in both places and in everyone I meet.
People may act as if some kinds of normal aren't normal. Not to them I believe, but to the person who believes that they are very normal. Normal isn't being a carbon copy, and those people who say 'be different!' would very much do well to listen to themselves!
Paris Hilton, Miley Cyrus and Oprah can, bluntly, fuck off. Not everyone has a million dollars to endorse their claims. Nor the freedom to put it on TV. Sometimes people need to turn the TV off, go outside and look up into a dark sky. The sky is never the same, so how can we be the same? People vary and change like the seasons, and what may be normal to a skinny person isn't the same to someone who is fluffed.
Certain people need to realize that sometimes the best changes are not a conscious choice at all. Most of the time, the best changes are those laid before us, the obstacles we face everyday morph us into who we should be.
And fearing change sets us into motion to change faster, and before you know it... you're either the lowliest scum, or you're the happiest person. My happiness isn't in money, I have often gone without it for months, surviving off of pittances from family and friends. But surrounding myself with loyal friends willing to do such for me when I run out of road... that they pave it for me... it makes me feel that I have the life I desire. And the one I love, when I hit a bump in the great road ahead of myself, he will always be there, no matter how far away or how much we think we hate each other at the moment.
Changes are not what we see. They are what we know to be true. Change is inevitable at best, impossible some times, and painful, always, even good changes. But that doesn't mean they're bad.
You can go through hell, but what does it matter if the experience you recount is happy, or a foreboding story to be retold? Even if you end up a lowly gangster, you have homies, and even then, when you're hated most by the 'normal people', you know you've been through it all and you can laugh in their face when they hide from such experiences.
Walk both paths, for the world is not divided among 'light' and 'dark'. Good and evil belong only in fairytales and myths, blind faith and blind wandering belong in the hearts of those unfaithful to themselves. Being a person, being yourself, and knowing the world around you, no matter if they accept you or not, is going to be the best of what you make of it is, after all, what everyone should have as their goal. There will always be peaces where war ensues, blood and tears of joy, sweat and a cool breeze. But come what may, it is your choice to change the light bulb when it flickers on that page of your life - That the light may reveal to you things are not so gloomy after all... It only takes one hand and fives fingers to change it, but it takes a mind and a heart to see the truth! And if you would rather leave that bulb to flicker, kudos - Those willing to brave the darkness are rewarded for their trials in the glorious rays of moonlight after the clouds pass.
May no two paths be the same, and well wishes to those who wish it upon themselves. Sometimes losing your way is actually finding another, often one you thought you would or could never traverse. Have faith in yourself and your friends."
Unknown Author.
Friday, August 8
Like Death Itself
Michelle makes her first move, but she's far from done. Joshua's lost his way, and for once his starry-eyed lover is guiding him... from beyond the coporeal realm!
Like Death Itself
Michelle stood bye silently, watching as Pero picked the homely slut up and took her away to god knows where. She knew where. She followed his overwhelming scent across the city, finding him and the same woman, both of them now half nude, in a private room, a very posh one at that, about to make love. And thuse she decided the girl’s life was a little pittance for Pero’s warning.
She battered the girl, and Pero noticed her hesitancy as she slipped out of the booty shorts. She chomped the soul up without a single explanation, smiling and slipping fully into the body. Used indeed, she could feel the whole inner workings of this woman from her pains in the kidneys to the headache waiting to the start. But pain meant little to nothing for a succubus.
Pero slid up beside her in the large satin and velvet draped floor, twining an arm around her legs and bidding her to lay down now, for it was so luxuriously soft down there. Something was also a lot more exotic, exuberant and alluring to him about Shezzebel tonight. Her dirty blond hair was suddenly a bit more soft and longer, shimmering in the candle glow, as was her skin, finally taking on a healthy glow. He liked his women pale, and though she was the color of the moon’s heavenly face, she seemed to glow like it was a deathly tan.
And it was. Her flesh was already hot and inviting, her touches more than exciting him tonight. As she moved to straddle him, guiding him onto his back, he didn’t protest, her kisses dulling his senses as she assumed the body she had been born with. Pero would, no doubt, recognize her. Black hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at him as he sobered, and a stronger than was natural hand clamped over his throat.
“A man watched by Countess of Black would do well to watch his back,” she growled in a vicious, demonic tongue. Pero bit back a threat as she dug hideous white cat’s claws into his throat, his vision shifting into the black realm where her etheral form shown. Her skin was outlined by a steaming hue of blue and green, the deeps of her slitted pupils the deepest black as was her skin, around it the bloodiest hues fo mauve and red.
She grinned, revealing row after row of sharp teeth and a long, rasping forked tongue. “You touch Joshua, you consider yourself a dead man, Perotino Valliano.”
Joshua awoke huffing and puffing in the dark room. Gagged so that he might not scream, bound and blindfolded, stuffed into a box to keep him standing. Torture wasn’t one of Pero’s better skills, but Pero’s ‘pet’ Jenzen would break his fingers one by one. The thought sent shivers up his spine, but suddenly he felt comforted. Little did her know that Pero was dressed and scared out of his ever-living in the next room over, looking again and again to the body that dissected itself atop him, holding him down to let the blood run over him.
But he did hear the last, wailing screech. It was that of something undead, hideous and devilish, drawing on the terror of the man. He thought it was just another dead whore Pero was beating for leaving him unsated. He felt a second, colder, shiver run up his spine inside that tiny, smelly box. He would sleep no more tonight.
Michelle watched them as she chuckled and stepped through the wall, leaving not a bit of evidence to get anyone in trouble. She had nothing against Pero, so long as the man didn’t lift a hair off of her precious Joshua’s head. Not one. Or she castrate Pero for the hell of it.
She snickered again, tinkering with the phone. If the guards weren’t superstitious, now they were when it rang up the police. Knowing this phone’s trace personally, the officers looked to each other over the office desk and their faces blanched. Gang wars were not uncommon, and if someone had claimed a coup on Pero, this would be the signal. Michelle had seen that in Pero’s greatest fears, but not before she’d stoled his seed. It didn’t matter if they made love, she had ways, and now… well, now she’d bring up a half-demon to her side to assist her before she killed it to obliterate a second, more devious crime scene.
And perhaps several more until Joshua was a free man. She listened to the horrified gasps as she walked through the three guards in turn, chanting a spell to make their scents more appealing to her, to remind the hungry succubus that she had more work to do when the night was over. Tonight, she had fasted, tomorrow she would assume the role of a vicious hunter once more.
All of the sudden, Richard and Joshua were reunited, in a bright flourescent-lit room with a window to a darker room. They were on bed, the whole of the room a starched, cleanly white. Richard made to move to stretch or to clean himself up, a six day beard appearring over his sunken cheeks. He felt his stomach rumble and looked around, but to no avail.
Pero, pacing behind the glass, talked to Barty and Neloman who sat watching and monitoring the two captives.
“See that the Richard one is taken out back and…” he began but then he thought back to Michelle’s ominous threat. “Let him go.”
Barty and Neloman looked too him, the shorter and more plump Neloman dropping his prized catch, a chocolate glazed donut. “What?!” they shrieked in unison.
Pero backhanded them both and swore up and down, until Barty walked to the door and called for Richard. “Just you.”
Joshua growled and stood in front of him, giving Richard a knowing look. He knew Pero disposed of the ‘worthless ones’ without mercy.
“No, Pero wants him freed.” Barty said, hurrying them on as he nervously watched the furious Pero and a cursing Neloman look to him at the hesitation. “We’ll give him a gun… and two bullets… a cell phone and a car too.”
Pero nodded and waved a hand. None of it matter, he had fleets of cars, boxes of guns and cell phones, a whole treasury of bullets and magazines. One or two wouldn’t make a difference.
Richard pushed Joshua aside and nodded, whispering something discreetly as he passed. “They need a sniffa fer yer gal.”
Joshua stifled the smile easily, knowing that she had outwitted that bastard again. Yet again, she had managed to disappear probably and this patter had them all worried, for what force might she have rallied in the last six days? And before then, even, a whole week or two now. Joshua did well to bite back a snapping comment at Pero while the door was open.
As was promised, Richard was given a gun with two bullets, a car and a phone and he sped away from Pero’s private island compound like the Southern breezes, heading for the border. If he got down to Temecula, he’d be safe, for in Temecula was a nuetral zone and Pero would have to stretch to worthless lengths to get just one man. Joshua and Michelle were king and queen of the better part of the city, championing the fight ti throw Pero off the city’s back for eight years now.
As soon as Richard was out of sight, Pero threw a great fit and in that time, he ordered Joshua released as well. Joshua headed north, without box or money, nor gun or phone, headed to hell knew where. Anywhere. Then he got pulled voer for speeding, on purpose. He’d be safest in the police compounds, and there he was in two hours.
Michelle saw the opportune moment and couldn’t skip it. Coming to a wanton call, she appeared before Joshua in a half-clad body, curling up in his arms and sighing.
“Joshua, I’ve nto much time to explain. I’m not able to be your wife and I’ve lost the child, to pay in for the gift my elderly uncle gave me… oh woe! This cursed gift… but you are safe, you will live…” she whispered. Joshua took it all in stride, kissing her and gasping prayers for her safe return. Or so he believed.
“This is a dream, I’ve not much longer. I’m safe, don’t look for me, and Pero will soon be… taken care of.” Michelle managed before her body fade. “I love you.” She squealed as her lack of energy return her to a deep lethargy in the Black, with dawn showing through the window. Joshua fell forward and cursed as her body slipped from his hands. This delusion left him with more questions than answer, though, for he now wondered what dark cold had befalled her to make her skin and voice so… cold.
Like Death itself.
Like Death Itself
Michelle stood bye silently, watching as Pero picked the homely slut up and took her away to god knows where. She knew where. She followed his overwhelming scent across the city, finding him and the same woman, both of them now half nude, in a private room, a very posh one at that, about to make love. And thuse she decided the girl’s life was a little pittance for Pero’s warning.
She battered the girl, and Pero noticed her hesitancy as she slipped out of the booty shorts. She chomped the soul up without a single explanation, smiling and slipping fully into the body. Used indeed, she could feel the whole inner workings of this woman from her pains in the kidneys to the headache waiting to the start. But pain meant little to nothing for a succubus.
Pero slid up beside her in the large satin and velvet draped floor, twining an arm around her legs and bidding her to lay down now, for it was so luxuriously soft down there. Something was also a lot more exotic, exuberant and alluring to him about Shezzebel tonight. Her dirty blond hair was suddenly a bit more soft and longer, shimmering in the candle glow, as was her skin, finally taking on a healthy glow. He liked his women pale, and though she was the color of the moon’s heavenly face, she seemed to glow like it was a deathly tan.
And it was. Her flesh was already hot and inviting, her touches more than exciting him tonight. As she moved to straddle him, guiding him onto his back, he didn’t protest, her kisses dulling his senses as she assumed the body she had been born with. Pero would, no doubt, recognize her. Black hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at him as he sobered, and a stronger than was natural hand clamped over his throat.
“A man watched by Countess of Black would do well to watch his back,” she growled in a vicious, demonic tongue. Pero bit back a threat as she dug hideous white cat’s claws into his throat, his vision shifting into the black realm where her etheral form shown. Her skin was outlined by a steaming hue of blue and green, the deeps of her slitted pupils the deepest black as was her skin, around it the bloodiest hues fo mauve and red.
She grinned, revealing row after row of sharp teeth and a long, rasping forked tongue. “You touch Joshua, you consider yourself a dead man, Perotino Valliano.”
Joshua awoke huffing and puffing in the dark room. Gagged so that he might not scream, bound and blindfolded, stuffed into a box to keep him standing. Torture wasn’t one of Pero’s better skills, but Pero’s ‘pet’ Jenzen would break his fingers one by one. The thought sent shivers up his spine, but suddenly he felt comforted. Little did her know that Pero was dressed and scared out of his ever-living in the next room over, looking again and again to the body that dissected itself atop him, holding him down to let the blood run over him.
But he did hear the last, wailing screech. It was that of something undead, hideous and devilish, drawing on the terror of the man. He thought it was just another dead whore Pero was beating for leaving him unsated. He felt a second, colder, shiver run up his spine inside that tiny, smelly box. He would sleep no more tonight.
Michelle watched them as she chuckled and stepped through the wall, leaving not a bit of evidence to get anyone in trouble. She had nothing against Pero, so long as the man didn’t lift a hair off of her precious Joshua’s head. Not one. Or she castrate Pero for the hell of it.
She snickered again, tinkering with the phone. If the guards weren’t superstitious, now they were when it rang up the police. Knowing this phone’s trace personally, the officers looked to each other over the office desk and their faces blanched. Gang wars were not uncommon, and if someone had claimed a coup on Pero, this would be the signal. Michelle had seen that in Pero’s greatest fears, but not before she’d stoled his seed. It didn’t matter if they made love, she had ways, and now… well, now she’d bring up a half-demon to her side to assist her before she killed it to obliterate a second, more devious crime scene.
And perhaps several more until Joshua was a free man. She listened to the horrified gasps as she walked through the three guards in turn, chanting a spell to make their scents more appealing to her, to remind the hungry succubus that she had more work to do when the night was over. Tonight, she had fasted, tomorrow she would assume the role of a vicious hunter once more.
All of the sudden, Richard and Joshua were reunited, in a bright flourescent-lit room with a window to a darker room. They were on bed, the whole of the room a starched, cleanly white. Richard made to move to stretch or to clean himself up, a six day beard appearring over his sunken cheeks. He felt his stomach rumble and looked around, but to no avail.
Pero, pacing behind the glass, talked to Barty and Neloman who sat watching and monitoring the two captives.
“See that the Richard one is taken out back and…” he began but then he thought back to Michelle’s ominous threat. “Let him go.”
Barty and Neloman looked too him, the shorter and more plump Neloman dropping his prized catch, a chocolate glazed donut. “What?!” they shrieked in unison.
Pero backhanded them both and swore up and down, until Barty walked to the door and called for Richard. “Just you.”
Joshua growled and stood in front of him, giving Richard a knowing look. He knew Pero disposed of the ‘worthless ones’ without mercy.
“No, Pero wants him freed.” Barty said, hurrying them on as he nervously watched the furious Pero and a cursing Neloman look to him at the hesitation. “We’ll give him a gun… and two bullets… a cell phone and a car too.”
Pero nodded and waved a hand. None of it matter, he had fleets of cars, boxes of guns and cell phones, a whole treasury of bullets and magazines. One or two wouldn’t make a difference.
Richard pushed Joshua aside and nodded, whispering something discreetly as he passed. “They need a sniffa fer yer gal.”
Joshua stifled the smile easily, knowing that she had outwitted that bastard again. Yet again, she had managed to disappear probably and this patter had them all worried, for what force might she have rallied in the last six days? And before then, even, a whole week or two now. Joshua did well to bite back a snapping comment at Pero while the door was open.
As was promised, Richard was given a gun with two bullets, a car and a phone and he sped away from Pero’s private island compound like the Southern breezes, heading for the border. If he got down to Temecula, he’d be safe, for in Temecula was a nuetral zone and Pero would have to stretch to worthless lengths to get just one man. Joshua and Michelle were king and queen of the better part of the city, championing the fight ti throw Pero off the city’s back for eight years now.
As soon as Richard was out of sight, Pero threw a great fit and in that time, he ordered Joshua released as well. Joshua headed north, without box or money, nor gun or phone, headed to hell knew where. Anywhere. Then he got pulled voer for speeding, on purpose. He’d be safest in the police compounds, and there he was in two hours.
Michelle saw the opportune moment and couldn’t skip it. Coming to a wanton call, she appeared before Joshua in a half-clad body, curling up in his arms and sighing.
“Joshua, I’ve nto much time to explain. I’m not able to be your wife and I’ve lost the child, to pay in for the gift my elderly uncle gave me… oh woe! This cursed gift… but you are safe, you will live…” she whispered. Joshua took it all in stride, kissing her and gasping prayers for her safe return. Or so he believed.
“This is a dream, I’ve not much longer. I’m safe, don’t look for me, and Pero will soon be… taken care of.” Michelle managed before her body fade. “I love you.” She squealed as her lack of energy return her to a deep lethargy in the Black, with dawn showing through the window. Joshua fell forward and cursed as her body slipped from his hands. This delusion left him with more questions than answer, though, for he now wondered what dark cold had befalled her to make her skin and voice so… cold.
Like Death itself.
Deathwish
Ah yes. It does seem like each of them has a deathwish of their own, but whose will be heard first?
Deathwish
Joshua pulled the abused cellphone from his pocket, looking at the dull screen and then at the locked door of his motel room. It had been a whole two weeks since Michelle had left him, and he was far from just beginning to worry about the girl. He was hysterical now, and Richard was barely able to keep him in the room. Richard, his roomy and as of late, his enemy, had been watching Joshua grow restless when she didn’t turn up.
Neither of them knew that for her to come anywhere near them now would be a death sentence. Quietly she had slipped from bedside to bedside many, many nights now, possessing the local whores off the streets in order to sip from the souls of the thugs and streetlife, and the occasional delicacies the richer men provided. Steengthening herself to fight Pero.
No, Joshua was convinced that Pero had kidnapped her off the street and it was his fault for dragging her into this war. The papers were still stashed with Richard in the thick wooden box. Incriminating papers that would get Pero, the crime lord of Los Angeles, locked away. For good this time.
Quickly he glanced around, noting that Richard had gone out for a smoke by the pool. He dialed the number to Pero’s own bedside phone and damn the man if he was busy fucking some whore. He needed to know where his girl was and now.
The dial tone clicked and buzzed until Pero picked up. “It’s traced, congrats you dumb fucking deadman!” he growled, slamming down the phone. Joshua hung it up and went for the door, dropping it as he slammed his fist on the door.
“Richard! Come now, fuck… Richard?!” he roared, leaning back against the wall and running a hand back through his hair. Pero didn’t have her or he would have tormented Joshua. Pero had the cops, waiting for this. Pero was in on whatever it was. Richard busted in the door, waving his arms and nearly slamming the knob of the door into Joshua’s gut in his rush.
“Whoa, whoa, who’s dyin’, what the feck is goin’ on Josh?” he groaned, looking over to him, his unusual accent thicker as he became more frustrated. “Ye’re gonna wake the fucken’ Devil o’ of these days!”
Joshua pushed him back and closed the door, his breathing hectic as he pointed to the phone, money and the infamous box. “Gather our shit up, we need to leave – tonight- because Pero traced my call…” he gasped, makign Richard’s lips go wide, the cigarette dropping onto the blankets.
“Fuck!” Richard said sharply, “You din’… yes you did. Josh ye stupid boy! You call’t Pero, you dumbass and now he’s on us!” he said, jumping off the bed as Joshua noded. Within five minutes they had everything packed in the car, the key was taped to the back of the locked door as they sped out of the parking lot.
Richard kept glancing over to Joshua, the car’s windows up as they took the best lit streets. “Was it worf it, eh Josh?” he asked softly.
Josh sobbed and hld his temples. “He doesn’t have her.” He whispered, shaking his head. “Michelle’s in the gutter somewhere and it’s all my god damn fault.”
Richard tapped the brakes as his eyes shot over to Joshua, making the bus behind them screech on its brakes and honk.
“It was then.” He gently answered, turning them off to a brightly lit carpark. “So ye knew yer sweet’art is safe.”
Joshua groaned and slammed a fist into his thigh, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. “But Pero’s flushed us out again. And he can track the phone, but how … he knew we were in that room. Cell phones can’t be tracked like landlines…” he blankly deliberated, relaxing. “He knew all along. And he knew Michelle was gone, knew that we wouldn’t leave until we had her… and he was bluffing that he had her to bring us in.”
Richard looked over and grinned. “Ah, then thanks to ye, fer getting’ us outta harms way. And thanks to yer smartass girl. Make sure I getta thank her someday and apologize for calling her a whore.” He said, chuckling. Joshua, for once, chuckled with him, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to fade the slightest bit.
Michelle wiped her lips with the corner of a blanket before leaving the bedside, bumping a candle to light the place on fire. As she willed the cloth into being with her strong mind, a white gown covered her corporeal body until it faded into that of a ghost with long, black tendrils for wings. She drifted up through the roof and out to the night sky, spreading the curled tendrils and soaring back towards her nest.
As she touched down on the landing, she sighed. She hadn’t counted the amount of time had passed since she had been transformed, but she was almost strong enough to kill Pero and to contact Joshua. Killing the deepest pit of courrption in the city would deeply taint her, and make her hungers vicious. After all, that’s what kept her going, feasting on the evil, transmuting chaos and corruption to order and goodliness.
Michelle smiled softly as she slipped into her private room, away from the two servant maids left to her by Camangelo. She need privacy to think about this. She had to know, when and where, she could time it all out to make it easier to kill the man. How complicated it seemed for only one body, but well worth it.
Pero walked out from behind one of the brightly lit cement pillars clapping and smilign under the black hood. “Good job, nice show.” He grimly commented. He had, indeed, been tracking Joshua and Richard from the hospital. He had, however, lost tabs on Michelle when she seemingly vanished from the face of the earth.
Richard turned pale, and Joshua stiffened as more thugs closed on the car, slashing the tires and plugging the exhaust. They both exited the car, but then a cold wind whipped up. Something was amiss about Pero, normally the cocky man would walk anywhere without fear. Why was he now hiding his face?
Lilithia watched, still planning his demise. She would not let him hurt Joshua, but until she could make her move she could not interfere. She phased through the car, taking the box and the money. Pero would gain nothing.
She knew they would feel her, but as she locked their guns up with the pangs of her deepest chaos, she turned and stepped through the Blackdoor with confidence. No gain, no murders.
Joshua and Pero looked around but then Pero threw bck the hood. “Bind and gag them, search the car then mar and burn the damn thing.” He said, turning. No elborate murder schemes tonight, both Richard and Joshua noticed. Pero was uncomfortable in his own city.
Later that night, Pero picked up his phone, calling the cellphone that had been left near the bunred out shell of Richard’s car. He left a terrifying message, at least terrifying to the normal populace.
“If you don’t bring me the box, he dies at midnight.” He said, calm and coolly. Surely she’d be smart enough. But however she had gotten the box in a hand off had escaped him. He’d seen everything, and there were no fake copies of that box. He was afraid, afraid because for once he didn’t hold the better hand of cards at his own table.
Michelle looked on in concern as the phone rang. She had revisited the scene to ensure her slight intervention had done nothing, and indeed, it hadn’t. She listened to the ominous message and laughed. Pero couldn’t kill a man wo had the protection of the single most powerful demoness aside from Lucifer’s own minions.
She laughed all the louder as she picked up the phone and crushed it in a single hand, though anyone watching would have thought that it imploded of its own accord.
“A man so hated by the Countess of Black would do well to watch his back.” She whispered cryptically., dropping the phone, or what was left after it had been ground into sand. Yes, soon she would be able to turn the tables and knock every single thug from the face of the earth in her city.
Deathwish
Joshua pulled the abused cellphone from his pocket, looking at the dull screen and then at the locked door of his motel room. It had been a whole two weeks since Michelle had left him, and he was far from just beginning to worry about the girl. He was hysterical now, and Richard was barely able to keep him in the room. Richard, his roomy and as of late, his enemy, had been watching Joshua grow restless when she didn’t turn up.
Neither of them knew that for her to come anywhere near them now would be a death sentence. Quietly she had slipped from bedside to bedside many, many nights now, possessing the local whores off the streets in order to sip from the souls of the thugs and streetlife, and the occasional delicacies the richer men provided. Steengthening herself to fight Pero.
No, Joshua was convinced that Pero had kidnapped her off the street and it was his fault for dragging her into this war. The papers were still stashed with Richard in the thick wooden box. Incriminating papers that would get Pero, the crime lord of Los Angeles, locked away. For good this time.
Quickly he glanced around, noting that Richard had gone out for a smoke by the pool. He dialed the number to Pero’s own bedside phone and damn the man if he was busy fucking some whore. He needed to know where his girl was and now.
The dial tone clicked and buzzed until Pero picked up. “It’s traced, congrats you dumb fucking deadman!” he growled, slamming down the phone. Joshua hung it up and went for the door, dropping it as he slammed his fist on the door.
“Richard! Come now, fuck… Richard?!” he roared, leaning back against the wall and running a hand back through his hair. Pero didn’t have her or he would have tormented Joshua. Pero had the cops, waiting for this. Pero was in on whatever it was. Richard busted in the door, waving his arms and nearly slamming the knob of the door into Joshua’s gut in his rush.
“Whoa, whoa, who’s dyin’, what the feck is goin’ on Josh?” he groaned, looking over to him, his unusual accent thicker as he became more frustrated. “Ye’re gonna wake the fucken’ Devil o’ of these days!”
Joshua pushed him back and closed the door, his breathing hectic as he pointed to the phone, money and the infamous box. “Gather our shit up, we need to leave – tonight- because Pero traced my call…” he gasped, makign Richard’s lips go wide, the cigarette dropping onto the blankets.
“Fuck!” Richard said sharply, “You din’… yes you did. Josh ye stupid boy! You call’t Pero, you dumbass and now he’s on us!” he said, jumping off the bed as Joshua noded. Within five minutes they had everything packed in the car, the key was taped to the back of the locked door as they sped out of the parking lot.
Richard kept glancing over to Joshua, the car’s windows up as they took the best lit streets. “Was it worf it, eh Josh?” he asked softly.
Josh sobbed and hld his temples. “He doesn’t have her.” He whispered, shaking his head. “Michelle’s in the gutter somewhere and it’s all my god damn fault.”
Richard tapped the brakes as his eyes shot over to Joshua, making the bus behind them screech on its brakes and honk.
“It was then.” He gently answered, turning them off to a brightly lit carpark. “So ye knew yer sweet’art is safe.”
Joshua groaned and slammed a fist into his thigh, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. “But Pero’s flushed us out again. And he can track the phone, but how … he knew we were in that room. Cell phones can’t be tracked like landlines…” he blankly deliberated, relaxing. “He knew all along. And he knew Michelle was gone, knew that we wouldn’t leave until we had her… and he was bluffing that he had her to bring us in.”
Richard looked over and grinned. “Ah, then thanks to ye, fer getting’ us outta harms way. And thanks to yer smartass girl. Make sure I getta thank her someday and apologize for calling her a whore.” He said, chuckling. Joshua, for once, chuckled with him, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to fade the slightest bit.
Michelle wiped her lips with the corner of a blanket before leaving the bedside, bumping a candle to light the place on fire. As she willed the cloth into being with her strong mind, a white gown covered her corporeal body until it faded into that of a ghost with long, black tendrils for wings. She drifted up through the roof and out to the night sky, spreading the curled tendrils and soaring back towards her nest.
As she touched down on the landing, she sighed. She hadn’t counted the amount of time had passed since she had been transformed, but she was almost strong enough to kill Pero and to contact Joshua. Killing the deepest pit of courrption in the city would deeply taint her, and make her hungers vicious. After all, that’s what kept her going, feasting on the evil, transmuting chaos and corruption to order and goodliness.
Michelle smiled softly as she slipped into her private room, away from the two servant maids left to her by Camangelo. She need privacy to think about this. She had to know, when and where, she could time it all out to make it easier to kill the man. How complicated it seemed for only one body, but well worth it.
Pero walked out from behind one of the brightly lit cement pillars clapping and smilign under the black hood. “Good job, nice show.” He grimly commented. He had, indeed, been tracking Joshua and Richard from the hospital. He had, however, lost tabs on Michelle when she seemingly vanished from the face of the earth.
Richard turned pale, and Joshua stiffened as more thugs closed on the car, slashing the tires and plugging the exhaust. They both exited the car, but then a cold wind whipped up. Something was amiss about Pero, normally the cocky man would walk anywhere without fear. Why was he now hiding his face?
Lilithia watched, still planning his demise. She would not let him hurt Joshua, but until she could make her move she could not interfere. She phased through the car, taking the box and the money. Pero would gain nothing.
She knew they would feel her, but as she locked their guns up with the pangs of her deepest chaos, she turned and stepped through the Blackdoor with confidence. No gain, no murders.
Joshua and Pero looked around but then Pero threw bck the hood. “Bind and gag them, search the car then mar and burn the damn thing.” He said, turning. No elborate murder schemes tonight, both Richard and Joshua noticed. Pero was uncomfortable in his own city.
Later that night, Pero picked up his phone, calling the cellphone that had been left near the bunred out shell of Richard’s car. He left a terrifying message, at least terrifying to the normal populace.
“If you don’t bring me the box, he dies at midnight.” He said, calm and coolly. Surely she’d be smart enough. But however she had gotten the box in a hand off had escaped him. He’d seen everything, and there were no fake copies of that box. He was afraid, afraid because for once he didn’t hold the better hand of cards at his own table.
Michelle looked on in concern as the phone rang. She had revisited the scene to ensure her slight intervention had done nothing, and indeed, it hadn’t. She listened to the ominous message and laughed. Pero couldn’t kill a man wo had the protection of the single most powerful demoness aside from Lucifer’s own minions.
She laughed all the louder as she picked up the phone and crushed it in a single hand, though anyone watching would have thought that it imploded of its own accord.
“A man so hated by the Countess of Black would do well to watch his back.” She whispered cryptically., dropping the phone, or what was left after it had been ground into sand. Yes, soon she would be able to turn the tables and knock every single thug from the face of the earth in her city.
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