Ye Olde S33k & Finde

[AmbrosiaCaress]

She had known him, from afar really, practically since her first wanderings onto Lit. His writings always entertained her. She found him to be a wonderful talented writer, intelligent and could spin a great tale and paint an erotic scene.
So, this quiet day, she decided to wander again, into his domain... and say..

hi.... Hope all is well...



Her voice was deep, soft, with a lyrical tone. Others had commented that her voice was sexy, that always made her smile....

 

[fr33ks33k]

He had been sifting through the stack of junk mail and bills, the mechanized spider perched on one shoulder and the clockwork bird on the opposite. Their tittering and squawking alert him of their guest. His eyes move upward slowly and he smiles in greeting.

"Hello there. Things are as well as can be expected."

He waits a moment before continuing, the bird and spider both making small noises as if appraising her.

"Is there anything I can help you find? Otherwise feel free to roam the shop. There are all sorts of mysteries and trinkets to find."

 

[fr33ks33k]

.....

 

[fr33ks33k]

Scribbled in a notebook.

Somewhere twixt the gloom of evening and the glow of early day, the wolf with wide and wary eyes has stalked and found its prey. The flesh is tender as the inside of a freshly sprouted tree, a twig of soft and supple sap and as fangs pierce skin the blood that flows is sweet.

Somewhere twixt the spark of sunrise and the ember of its set, the wolf with wide and hungry jaws will catch its victim yet. The chase is quick as lightning, the spring and pounce and snap. The last of air escapes and the wolf can feast at last.

Somewhere twixt twilight and darkness, a pair of eyes and jaws. A howl to rattle bones and frighten men with no regard for their laws. The beast will have its hunt, its chase, and finally its prey. The beast is loose, the beast is free, from now til the end of days.

 

[fr33ks33k]

Scribbled in a notebook, titled D.H.G.

She smells of cigarettes and cinnamon; carcinogenic chamomile that soothes the lungs by singeing every cilia. She looks like lightning and lavender; leprous love that leaves lesions on your lips and heart. She's cancer and death and beauty and yet she's just a flower blowing in the wind. She's a massacre in red and lovely silhouettes and proof that everything that's bad for you is irresistible. So avert your virgin eyes if you fear to take offense, because her hungry eyes and wicked grin are just as awful as they are powerful. And keep your gaze upon the ground lest you be disintegrated in the warmth of her smile. Because only a beauty this pure could be so vile and still attract even hardy souls like moths to a pyre. The lesson is love will eat you up from the inside out, leave you battle-worn and roughened. And you'll still exhale your last breath with a smile on your face; they don't call it a death's-head grin for nothin'.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*It is fortunate that this old place can take care of itself because he has been a very neglectful owner. Even so, the mechanical creatures gather at the telltale creaking of the heavy front door. They crow and roar and emit their tinny noises from their place on the counter, a film of dust covering the mounds of junk mail that never seemed to cease being delivered.*

Hello friends. Yes, I've been away far too long and I'm sorry. Life's current led me adrift. But I have returned and with renewed purpose! We have much to catch up on...but first, there are some things I need to find...

*He scoops up the clockwork spider and sets it on his shoulder before venturing into the ever-changing oddities the shop contains. The shrill of a metallic chirp and the clank of mechanized wings signals the accompaniment of the bird, eager to see what items are to be retrieved.*

 

[fr33ks33k]

*Time passes differently amidst the stacks. Months feel like weeks or days on most occasions and yet on others the opposite is true. He emerges from a darkened section carrying a burlap sack, full to the brim. The bird and spider are still with him, though along the way they have happened upon a new addition: a clockwork penguin, waddling noisily to keep up. As they reach the front counter he hefts his load onto the oaken slab and turns the bag upside down to dump its contents. He sets to sorting them into piles. He ends up with three heaps of items which he sorts further, dividing them into respective halves. Afterward he realizes one last piece that was not retrieved and sets off at a brisk pace to find it and bring it back. The machinated penguin waddles fervently after him, emitting metallic caws along the way.*

 

[fr33ks33k]

*Today finds him roaming the stacks again, still in search of what he needs. His mechanized companions are at his side faithfully, as usual. In an aisle not far from one of the walls of the shop, he happens upon a massive ruby.

It is unlike any other gem of its type that he's laid eyes on; seeming to be both smooth and faceted at the same time. As he turns it over in his hands he realizes that it has two additional features: There is a fire burning within the ruby, reflecting in the facets and flickering with each motion. There is no source for the fire and it does not appear to have extinguished and been relit.

An ever-burning flame inside a strange ruby would be odd enough, but it is also engraved with gilt lettering. A poem, written in a strange language. But as he attempts to read the words, he understands them. He would be surprised except this sort of thing is common amongst the oddities in the shop, lost languages that are simply begging to be learned, and if not that then simply understood. An urge so strong that the language wills itself to extol its virtues on the reader, whether they want the knowledge or not.

After finishing the poem, he smiles. For a moment the fire is reflected in his eyes and his heartbeat quickens. It fades quickly, but as he continues searching for the item he needs, he is humming the poem's meter.

--------------

She sits upon a throne of broken stone and melting iron; the swords of those who fought and would defy her.

Her eyes are sunrise orange, her lips are blood moon red. Her voice is low in dulcet tones though fire burns there yet. She is svelte of build with copper hair.

Her coronation, bathed in magma. Her crown is wreathed in flame. No heat can harm her. No candle, torch, nor inferno can compare.

She is the Ruby of the Kindling, the Child of Vulcan’s Forge. She is the Lava’s Kiss, the Warm Embrace, the Ember of the Dawn.

No metal can withstand her touch, no magic proves too strong. No enemy can extinguish her, every foe to cinders falls. No one can endure the intensity of her passion, she makes ashes of her thralls.

And so she reigns until the day when one can quench her blazing heart. Until such day they’ll sing the dirges: Incineration’s Call. And all shall hail the Fire Queen, whose burning gaze rules all.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

In the middle of a moonless night, a shadow crept down the street to stop in front of Fr33k's shop. A hand withdrew from the folds of the cloak worn and the form bent down to the level of the door knob and there was a slight sound just before the door sprung open slightly with a slight creak. The figure winced slightly at the sound.

Damn Fr33k, why haven't you oiled the hinges of this thing?

The words were spoken wryly. The hand slightly pushed the door open wider and before entering, it was waved in the air with an accompanied by a few softly spoken words. The air shimmered slightly, rolling through the dark shop like a small tidal wave and just before it hit the back wall, her fingers drew it back so the vibrations were not felt by the man that owned this place.

The figure moved into the interior of the shop, carefully avoiding the possibility of making something fall until it stood at the front counter where some of his mechanical collection stood. Once again, there was a soft rustling sound from the interior of the cloak. Only this time, something metallic was held in an open hand. As the gift was placed on the countertop it began to "squeak" a protest. A forefinger was lifted to silent lips in warning. Then the figure turned and retreated, insuring the door was locked and closed once more.

For a moment, the interior of Fr33k's shop was shrouded in darkness then a pinpoint beam of light fell from above and directly encompassing the small metallic gift that sat perched on the tip of a magically manufactured human fingertip, where it sighed softly as it waited for its new owner to claim it.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*He'd felt the magic emanating from the front of the shop almost immediately. Sounds were dampened, but no signs of danger were left in its wake. So he ignored it and continued searching through the stacks and aisles, seeking and not ever really finding what he was looking for though stumbling upon myriad other trinkets and baubles that caught his attention. His mechanical friends tittered and ticked their impatience, eager to be back with the rest of their kind.

After some time, his steps placed him back at the heavy oaken counter. The beam of light shone down on a new addition to the clockwork menagerie of creatures; a butterfly done in wonderfully intricate detail. It rested on a disembodied finger, which he found odd. Upon closer inspection he recognized the construction and magical properties. Only one person signed their spells this way; Cait.

He smiled and reached out his own index finger toward the butterfly, which was stock-still within the light cast down on it. With a slow whirring and clanking, it started to flap its wings and alighted onto his digit, still moving in slight ways as if it were waking up. The summoned artificial finger disappeared after its task was completed and he was left with the fluttering of cog-filled wings. It takes a short flight and lands on the shoulder opposite the spider, who seems more intrigued than predatory.

Having been unable to find the final piece of his former workings, he settles for sorting the newly amassed pile of junk mail that has been left for him on the counter.*

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She had left him a small Fae One last time. This time, through means she wasn't ready to reveal, a butterfly, its colors glorious, merely appeared on the shelf next to the Fae One.

In one of her travels, an old man had gifted her this little jewel because she had been silently admiring it and knew exactly who she wanted to give it to as a gift. She had done the old man a few favors. Exactly what those favors had been, she wouldn't say but the old man's universe wouldn't ever be the same again.

In any case, FR33k would take good care of it.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*The ticking and whirring of the mechanized butterfly grew louder at the sudden appearance of its counterpart. A shaft of light shone down onto its intricate wing pattern. He happened to walk by just after, the sound alerting him to the commotion. He leaned in to examine the newcomer, smiling as the shimmering panels of its wings cast pastel glows on the shelf it rested upon. His eyes glanced about to see where the gift had come from but no one nor thing remained as evidence. He reached out both hands, index fingers forward offered as perches for the two creatures. Both seemed timid at first but clambered up and accompanied him back to the front of the shop, wings flapping in a silent conversation between them.*

 

[fr33ks33k]

Maybe story ideas...

*He sat at the counter, eyes staring intently at the screen before him. Several holo-discs lay strewn over the oaken surface, each labeled with their aisle, cross-aisle, and shelf. He watched each in turn, sometimes smiling and sometimes jotting down notes in a leather-bound journal.*

-----

An armored figure faces a dragon. They battle viciously yet evenly, despite their size difference. the dragon scores what would be a fatal blow without armor, but instead only knocks the figure sidelong against a wall. The warrior's helmet flies free, revealing the lovely maiden beneath. Her eyes are glassy as she attempts to regain focus and her feet. Before she can right herself the dragon pins her to the wall with a massive claw. It turns its head to one side to stare at her, sizing her up. The air is filled with heat and pressure, her vision turned hazy before slowly fading to black.

She awakens in a cold cell, chained to the wall at wrist and ankle. Her armor is missing; she is clothed in a plain slip. As she is gaining her bearings, the sound of footsteps echoes along the stone of her prison...

------

A man stands in a shop full of trinkets. He is perusing the wares when he happens upon a strange key. It seems to beckon to him as he turns it over in his hands. When he asks the shopkeeper what the key belongs to, he is unable to say. In fact, he seems eager to be rid of the piece. After a brief discussion on price, the man purchases the key and leaves the shop.

In a darkened room, a figure shudders and shakes, its motions stiff and unsteady. A pair of bright blue eyes flicker like candle flames as they come alive. A soft voice edged with the sound of whirring gears utters a single phrase. "Where...where am I?"

-------

The moon hung low on the horizon, illuminating the sole visitor of the rest stop 58 miles outside of Garvey.She looked far more at ease than astranded girl all alone at a rest stop should. Truth was, she'd hitchhiked before. The first few times it was a thrill, the thought of what strange men could be capable of. Now it was boring. No one, not even in the seediest of truck stops had provided even a small twinge of danger.

Tonight was different. Just as she had given up hope, sitting on the curb of the rest stop parking lot, a solitary vehicle pulled in. All tinted windows and black paint, a nondescript sedan that looked more like a secret service car than a luxury automobile.

The man that stepped out of the car was tall, dark, and handsome, eyes covered with glasses tinted just as dark as the car's windows. It was hard to tell if he noticed her at all as he strode into the rest stop's main building.

On his way out, he stopped next to her, offering his hand to help her up. "Need a ride?"

His voice was...compelling. She felt the pit of her stomach starting to churn. Finally, someone who might afford her the excitement she'd been looking for...

 

[fr33ks33k]

Inscribed on gilded parchment. Aisle 356, Top shelf.

An obsidian chrysalis cracks and crumbles to reveal infernal wings unfurled, stretching and stiffening to support dark flight. Ruby beads faceted a thousand times search the sky for prey as jagged jaws spread wide to release a primal scream...

A diamond orb, unbroken smoothness encapsulating a rarity: absolute purity. The lithe figure floods with inner light, making itself a beacon, making the diamond a lantern. The signal flares across the stars and in between. The siren song catches many ears; both divine and unclean...

 

[fr33ks33k]

Found spray-painted on an outer wall.

Home is not where you kick off your boots and relax your feet.
It's where you open up your third eye and let your mind roam free.

It's not where you were born nor where you find the roots of your family tree.
It's where you're not afraid to soar and unfurl your wings.

Home is not a house, a city, a country.
It's a place in your being where you feel most comfy.

That's why we can live in each other's souls.
Why we call the space between the hug of a brother or a lover our homes.

That's why even sittin' desolated, isolated, on our God-damned own.
We still have a place deep inside we can always call home.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*The place had taken care of itself well enough in his absence, but the pile of mail was nearly his height when he managed to find his way back to the counter.*

I really need to unsubscribe from all of this...

*The clockwork creatures greeted him in their various ways, along with the fae butterfly. Amidst the junk on the oaken slab was a small crate. He reached into a pocket inside his trenchcoat and retrieved a small steel bar. He wedged the bar into the lid of the crate and pried it off easily.

Inside was a pair of gloves.

They were gauntlets, really. Gleaming metal that seemed like part of some medieval armor but showed none of the age. Reading the glyphs on the gloves, he smiled and donned them. His fingers flexed and the glyphs lit up one at a time. The mechanical animals seemed frightened yet intrigued by the power that began coursing through his hands.*

Come along, little friends. I know just the place to test these out...

*He strode off into the aisles, the clockwork creatures struggling to keep up with his brisk pace. It didn't take long for him to arrive at their destination: an open alcove that held two tall spires topped with large steel bearings. They bore similar markings to the gloves, though in a different dialect.

He lifted both hands and tapped a tempo with his left foot, then began conducting. Arcs of electricity flew from his fingertips to the bearings, a tone humming in different pitches as he continued. The song he played entranced the little critters and brought a smile to his face.

As the song trailed off, he took off the gloves and set them on an empty shelf next to the spires. The mechanized menagerie clicked and whirred as they followed him deeper into the shop.*

 

[fr33ks33k]

*His absence had been felt, though the shop continued to run autonomously. The door groaned in protest as he opened it, followed by the tinny whine of the clockwork creatures as they clamored around him, eager to show him what new tricks they'd learned. The mail pile was gargantuan, towering in a heap next to the front counter.*

Good to know that I'm missed even if I'm not around as much.

*A large portion of his evening was spent getting rid of the junk mail and perusing a few interesting trinkets that had arrived from parts unknown:

A crystal that shone all the colors of the spectrum, flickering with an ethereal fire. The clasp for the gem was in the shape of a dragon's claw, clutching the stone like an egg.

An orb made of black metal, floating above a pedestal. The metal turned on its own axis, bobbing as if repelled by magnetic force. As he reached for it, the orb crackled and shifted, small panels sliding and receding as the orb transformed into a flower, a blossoming lotus that spun in a slow circle. As the last petals unfurled an aura began exuding from within. The scent it gave off was somewhere between peppermint and lilac, and as he breathed it in, he felt himself grow more calm. He left the lotus spinning on the countertop as he strode into the shop to find....something...*

 

[fr33ks33k]

*His footsteps were accompanied by the sound of small bells rattling and the mechanized whirring of the animals as they pranced about. He'd found what he was looking for and hefted it on one shoulder as he returned to the front of the shop. He planted the base of the imitation fir tree opposite the long oaken counter, the branches swinging into place as he fitted the trunk into the base.*

Alright everyone, time to decorate!

*They gathered on claw and wing, draping garlands and strands of lights around the tree, some of the smaller creatures getting stuck in the tangle of wires before being rescued by larger animals or he himself. It did not take long for it to be done. He stepped back and clapped his hands twice, the lights flickering on and then beginning to blink in tune with various festive songs. He smiled and sat behind the counter to admire their handiwork as he sorted through the never-ending mound of junk mail. He whistled Walking in a Winder Wonderland while he did so.*

 

[fr33ks33k]

Found in a wooden scroll tube. Aisle 773, Bottom Shelf.

Evil is as Evil does and I've been quite the wicked motherfucker.
Sometimes more literally than others.
I'm a purveyor of all the vile vices vilified by honest folk.
Sometimes people pay in gold, sometimes the price's someone's weight in souls.
Ever measured someone's sins against a single raven's feather?
It's sometimes easier to set sail in foggy weather.

Evil is as Evil does and even demons know to give a wide berth.
Might not have horns, a crown of thorns, but I know how much the truest words are worth.
I'm a connoisseur of all the cruelties and cravings cultivated by those who claim innocence.
Sometimes the taste is sweet like cinnamon-sugar, sometimes it's more blood-iron when your tongue is covered.
Ever tried to feel someone from the inside out?
Sometimes it's easier to perform an autopsy, without a doubt.

Evil is as Evil does and if my hunter's eyes are on you, you're surely out of luck.
Evil is as Evil does and if you've glimpsed my hungry smile, you're surely out of luck.
Evil is as Evil does and I'll devour you completely.
Evil is as Evil does, but will you know me when you meet me?

 

[fr33ks33k]

Excerpt from a book bound in red velvet. Row 409, Bottom Shelf.

Soft and pale and oh so fucking pretty...perfect canvas for my filth and lust. All curves and supple sweetness...sugared lips and honeyed tongue. Your innocence, I want to taste it...corrupt your kingdom come...cum...cum for me, with me, let me break you open, find your center, make it throb like ruby-throated hummingbirds in fucking slow-motion. Let me sate my red-eyed hunger with tooth and nail and sounds that only vaguely smack of human. Let me slake my thirst for your electric tingle, the feel of death finding you in little bursts like fireworks exploding. Let me, or I'll take you...whichever you prefer...

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Soft and pale and oh so fucking pretty...perfect canvas for my filth and lust. All curves and supple sweetness...sugared lips and honeyed tongue. Your innocence, I want to taste it...corrupt your kingdom come...cum...cum for me, with me, let me break you open, find your center, make it throb like ruby-throated hummingbirds in fucking slow-motion. Let me sate my red-eyed hunger with tooth and nail and sounds that only vaguely smack of human. Let me slake my thirst for your electric tingle, the feel of death finding you in little bursts like fireworks exploding. Let me, or I'll take you...whichever you prefer...

(Oh damn, Fr33k) *fan fan*

 

[fr33ks33k]

(Oh damn, Fr33k) *fan fan*

Hi there, Cait. Heh, I was in a mood.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Hi there, Cait. Heh, I was in a mood.

*clears throat*

Yeeeah, I could tell.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*clears throat*

Yeeeah, I could tell.

*Grins wolfishly*

How have you been?

 

[DarkWarrioress]

*Grins wolfishly*

How have you been?

*eyes that grin of his*

Good. Busy. You?