Thursday, September 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sorry everyone, but I don’t have much time. I was just about to sit down and blog when Mrs. Davidson stuck her head in and told me that my Uncle Warner has decided that its time for another of his “evening constitutionals.” I’m supposed to go, as usual.
I have no idea where he gets these ideas. You would think that a “constitutional” was a walk or something, but noooooo. Its this once a month meal where he orders the table set for about fifteen and then eats all by himself or with me. It’s not as weird now as it once was, now that I know about the portals in the Tower of Worlds. I think he’s waiting for someone, but I don’t know who or why.
The food is still just as weird as was the first time, though. I think my favorite is the “sugar beats.” He insists that they aren’t spelled “beets” because we’re supposed whack them three or four times with a tuning fork before we eat them. He says it brings out the flavor.
One good thing is that he tells the most wonderful stories. I might try to tell some of them here. Well, I have my own stories to tell now, about Relois, about, well…. I probably shouldn’t say more right now. I don’t tell Uncle Warner either. There are times I’d like to, but something stops me. I’m not sure why.
Well, I hear Mrs. Davidson coming. Gotta go.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Hello once again, esteemed world-travelers! It is I, your fellow sojourner, Igmar.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
So, apparently, my sister and brother-in-law are going to go off to find some faerie miscreant and they need me to watch their precious, little daughter whilst they are away. Funny, since their daughter is a sixteen year old girl who is highly trained in hand to hand combat and weapons skills from two different dimensions and has, as far as I am aware, been a miniature grown-up since she was five. Nevertheless, I, being a wonderful sort of uncle, am going to move from London to the States and be with dear, little Danni until her parents return.
I suppose, in the interest of general understanding, I should give some account of the history of faeries in this world and the formation of the Transworld Congress, at least in a little more detail. It will help you understand why I, as a half-blood, am still allowed to live in this world whilst others are imprisoned and sent back to the Otherworld without so much as a souvenir photo of La Tour Eiffel.
No one knows when the first channels opened up between our worlds, but my guess is that it was more than a few millennia ago. Back in yonder years, quaint little heathens worshipped magic users as gods. You know, Prometheus the Fire Bringer and Lugh the All Around Amazing Chap. You had supernatural disasters and curses and all sorts of wonderful events taking place that no one today believes actually happened. That was back when magic users walked through the channels without so much as a stamped visa.
As time went on, more channels began to open up, probably due to faeries figuring out how to do it themselves. Some people began to notice that humans were vanishing, never to be seen again, and magical events were taking place that were causing an unseemly amount of damage. I’m talking people killed, towns destroyed, the whole lot. I’m not sure if it was a human or a faerie who first suggested that we were destroying each other’s worlds and that something needed to be done.
In 1818, a congress assembled unofficially in some neutral location between-worlds. They created a document called the Transworld Peace that has been enacted every since. Basically, the faeries will watch their ends of the channels and we’ll watch ours. Any trespassers will be immediately sent back to be disciplined. It’s worked out fabulously.
Well, most of the time. Every now and then, things get messy. And people like me end up being born. Luckily for me, I didn’t get enough magic in my system to hurt the human world’s magickless atmosphere. I do have enough so that if I ever did want to foray into Faerie, I could. But I don’t want to. I am rich, happy, comfortable, and entirely not interested in meddling with Transworld affairs. Leave that to Amanda and Geoff.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
This place eats things. I suppose that’s what it does, because you can set something down, turn around, and then when you reach for it a second later, whatever it was is gone. Some things never show back up, but most of them do, and always in the weirdest places. Once a week Mr. Davidson goes all over the house looking for things that don’t belong and he brings them back and dumps them in a box in the front hall. He told me he found my hairbrush in one of the gutters on the roof. One day I was reading a book, set it down to take a drink and when I looked back, it wasn’t there. Five minutes later, Mrs. Davidson came in and handed it back to me; it was warm and a bit singed. She found it in the oven, next to some rolls she was baking for dinner.
As far as disappearing things go, the chair the other day was pretty bad. I was typing along and had to push back to grab a tissue and boom! I was on the floor. The chair was gone, right out from under my freaking bum! I said then that I thought the chair would be on the lawn. It wasn’t. I found it in the big fireplace downstairs. Good thing it wasn’t winter.
The scary part of this is that the house also seems to manage to misplace people. I’ve only been misplaced a few times. If you’re not careful, you’ll just be walking along and suddenly you look around and you’re nowhere you should be. Sometimes it’s harmless. Mrs. Davidson said that one day her mother was visiting and she fell asleep on a chair in the main hall. Before anyone knew what had happened, she was gone, and an hour later they found her sitting, fully clothed, in an upstairs bathtub, still asleep. If you end up in the wrong place, though, it can be dangerous. That’s how I found the Tower of Worlds the first time.
Around here, when you go from place to place, you lock your eyes on your destination and take the shortest route. Things only seem to happen when you’re not looking…. Keeps you on your toes, I guess.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Anyway, back to the thesis of this entry, Hisoka is insane. We finally got a half-way decent mercenary group put together, we have a warrior of the Okami, a Toshi mercenary-
You all probably have no idea what these are so let me explain, simply and effectively...as long as Hisoka doesn't try to brain me again. Let's see, for the Okami warrior, his name is Keno, think naked super-warrior with magical weapons and tattoos that work like armor, maybe better. His wolf, oh...right, every Okami warrior bonds with a giant demon wolf, these wolves are the size of horses, anyway, his wolf died a few months ago and he's trying to get over it. I think he's suicidal right now, which is going to make life interesting until I can talk him out of that.
The Toshi, Genburu, think like monkey people except not monkey's. They live in the Oniyama and can fight better than most anyone who's not from the Kari clan. They're mercenaries by trade, and some people say they're spies too, I suppose I'll find out about that. This kid is pretty much looking for adventure I think, not entirely sure. He says he's the son of a bigwig in the Toshi clan but he ran away because he wants to be a mercenary. I'm not sure if he's lying or not.
Then there's Sanchiro, he's the prince of the Anteisei. Don't look at me like that, he is, not the first son, the third I think. Anyway, he's running away from some vision his wife had that he's going to kill her someday. Apparently he's taking it seriously, she is supposed to be a pretty good fortune teller, and so he's joined us so that he will never ever see his beloved wife again. I suppose he's figuring that if he never see's her he can't kill her. At least that's the story Tanaka got out of him when they were drinking last night. I don't figure that's likely to work, not that I have much experience with running away from prophecies of doom, but I figure it takes more than joining a mercenary company to get away. Maybe I'm wrong.
Let's see then, there's also Sanshi and Jushi, brother and sister, twins from the Saiban clan. Twin's are really bad mojo for the Saiban, they're all about middle ground and twins represent good and evil in their set forms. The Saiban think the twins are cursed from birth by the spirits and cast them out. I haven't managed to get a story out of these two yet but somehow they stayed together, and apparently they don't drink. Which makes it harder to ply them for information.
Then I guess the last one is Meiyo Kumiko, she's a thief. Not like a spy or an assassin or anything, just a thief. I wasn't sure about her at first but she and Hisoka were best friends from the moment they met...which probably means that Kumiko is stark raving mad as well. Anyway, she got caught, well almost caught, by someone important in Meiyo, the city, and now she's on the run. Hisoka probably knows more than that but I haven't had much time to talk to her. Anyway Kumiko should be good at getting us into places, and hopefully out of places as well.
So, like I said we finally get a halfway decent group together and the first job Hisoka picks up for us, which is MY job by the way, is sneaking into the castle at Tsuyosa and finding out how many troops are there. Its in the middle of the city, our first job as a team. We're going to die, there's nothing else to say, we're dead. I'm going to go prepare myself to meet Zainu face to face, hopefully Mizukaze will still be by my side and can get me a good ranking in my next life.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Ever since Isaac dragged me onto this site, I’ve been trying to figure it out. This is certainly a very interesting collection of beings. It figures that Isaac would find the oddest blog on the internet.
So, hello. I’m Nat. I won’t bother introducing myself again, since Isaac has already done such a …stellar… job. Right now, I’m trying to clean my Glock, while my little sister is drawing on my feet. I tell myself, it could be worse. She could be drawing on the wall. Or the table. Or my face. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. She really is a good kid, just hyper. And with an overactive imagination. So now, I have the honor of walking around on feet decorated with cows. At least I think they’re cows…. Oh, whoops. She says they’re horses. My bad.
My job is similar to yours, Andreas- I specialize in security. Although, it’s mostly against normal human criminals, not otherworld beasts. That seems to be changing recently, though. After I started taking jobs from the Fae.
Liam- I can’t imagine a world in which the Fae are restricted to the otherworld. I suppose it’s good for me that they aren't in mine. The Courts pay well, and I certainly need the money.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Evidently, to her eyes I resemble a mix of two kinds of earth creatures: a “rabbit” and a “squirrel”. Personally, I do not see the connection at all. My kind is something else entirely. Beyond and above. That sort of thing.
According to my research, the best known of these “rabbit” things is something called “Bugs Bunny.” Having observed several of documented sightings of this creature, I suppose that its unique physiology makes it somehow superior to other “rabbits”—it can walk upright, speak the common language, and I have to admit that I am a bit jealous of those thumbs. Beyond that, it makes no sense! Its voice is annoying and it cannot decide whether it is male or female. It lives in a hole in the ground that should flood with every rain, and collapse if anything of sizable weight passed over. How does it fit all of that furniture into that tiny little hole? Perhaps I’m underestimating it, but I doubt it’s clever enough to know how to tesser space. Even I’m not very good at that. And why “Bugs”? I fail to see what insects have to do with any of this nonsense…unless perhaps he’s really part of an insectoid species infiltrating your society in disguise. I don’t suppose that’s impossible.
Bah! My ears are MUCH more impressive.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
My name is Liam Caslow and I am the unfortunate offspring of Romeo and Juliet. Oh yes, they were star crossed and dramatic and died in each other’s arms and everything. They did manage to survive for twelve years after having me, which I guess puts them ahead of Shakespeare’s originals. My father, I’m told, was a hunter, stationed in the minute hamlet of Coverdale in Yorkshire, England. Good spot to catch faeries, you know. Lots of channels between our world and the Otherworld in Coverdale for who knows what reason. My mum, who was Fae, apparently sneaked through one of those channels for a bit of sight seeing in the mundane world. She and my father fell madly in love. Of course, that’s forbidden, and not just because it’s a disgustingly romantic cliché. They went underground for years. When I was born, I was immediately packed off to live with my great aunt (on my father’s side) and I only saw them every few months – or years, depending on how things were going. They started some sort of revolution, but it ended badly. They both died, as did poor Great Aunt Mary Ellen of a stroke that same month.
If it hadn’t been for Oliver and Hannah Caslow, I would probably have been shipped off to one of those special facilities for mistakes like me. The Caslows were hunters, but they realized that I didn’t have enough magic in me to damage the mundane world and convinced the Transworld Congress to let me stay on this side of the channels. The Caslows adopted me. I thought myself pretty lucky.
At least until I met my new sister Amanda. She is… well, let’s just say that my life has been much easier since she crossed the pond with her new American husband Geoff Gallagher. They stayed in the family business, hunting illegal crossers from the Otherworld. Seem to do pretty well for themselves. I’ve heard that they’re two of the best in the business—
But, then, I’ve made it very clear to my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, my niece, and anyone else who’s interested, that I don’t want to know what’s going on in the transworld. I don’t want a job as a courier. Really, I don’t want to be involved.
So why is Amanda leaving me messages? Again?
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
So, having nothing to type about I summoned up Gilly...uh...that's Gilderoy Amphersand Palonius Asterick Kevlar Mastectomy...he named himself...I think he just kind of picked words that he thought sounded cool...and then put them together. Anyway, he's a demon poodle who likes to pretend he's important. I brought him up to see what was going on in the six hundred thousand hells, you know, to see if anything interesting was going on, No-One-In-Particular's idea. He was...mad about that...mostly 'cause I pulled him out of a poker game he was winning with a few other demons, something about '700 tortured souls riding on the last card and then poof'...he complained so much that I bound him into my tea-pot...I've been needing a new heater for it anyway, the last one escaped when Olef dropped the pot into my summoning circle.
It was so his fault, I know...I left the horse entrails on the floor, but still...his fault.
So, now I'm posting about the fact that Gilly will be warming my tea for the next ten years or so. I've been threatening to do this for a while when he doesn't cooperate so I suppose it's about time I made good on it.
Anyway... ... ...I'm hungry, I'm gonna go eat now.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Waverly Hall is here in Georgia outside a tiny town called Tiger, which is near a slightly larger town called Clayton, which is near…nothing in particular. Mountains, I suppose. It’s a nice place, but don’t go looking for a mall or cell phone reception. I think that maybe if I stood on top of the tallest tower, held my phone over my head, stood on tip toe, and got struck by lightning, I might get one bar.
This place is gigantic. If you tried to go from one end to the other, you might want to pack a lunch, and I can’t tell that anyone has set foot in most of it for a VERY long time. You can tell how long it's been because the carpet in those parts has been “let go,” according to the Davidsons, and is in places knee-deep. I’ve since learned to stay away from those parts of the house. You can’t always tell when things are coming.
The picture here is of a place I think Mrs. Davidson weedwhacked recently. It's nice and short.
Towers, yes, that's something. How many houses do you know that have towers in them? Not too many I would bet. Waverly Hall has three or four, depending on the day and if the fourth tower is feeling frisky enough to let you find it. (Oh, you can always see it from the outside, but the inside likes to move around to different parts of the house.) The Hall was one of those places that was built to look like a castle, but since I don't think you could keep anything out of this place if you tried, I guess they didn’t think they would have to actually defend it from anyone other than perhaps a horde of angry grandmothers (all the stairways without railings would get them…they might also be eaten by the carpet).
It’s the central tower, the biggest, that really is different. It has the Gallery of Worlds, and has gotten me into a whole lot of trouble. More about that later, though.
Fellow sojourners of space and time, I give you my great thanks for the opportunity to test the bounds of knowledge and great minds on this endeavor. I am Igmar Gamelson, honored first born of the great scholar Gamel Igorson, co-founder of the High University of Elemental Theory of Einstarn, and his father who was some sort of brutish warlor, as I recall from father's stories. I come to you from the world of Rune-Midgard, the land of men blessed by the Order of Elements, and the gods which rule them, and us, with varying degrees of success.
I myself hold office in that university, a highly awarded and regarded scholar in the field of Elemental Science, which is, incidentally, how I discovered this peculiar device- You see, I was performing a rather dangerous crossing of the elements of Reality and Order, fluctuating Chaos to catalyze a ujhbjbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbncdfeljmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm /………….
I’m terribly sorry, that would be Vera, my dear pet- She is a rabbit, you see- a blue one. Quite rare, and curious- I would correct that mistake, but I have yet been unable to discover a method-
In any case, I accidentally generated this strange device- and with several modifications managed to connect to its source material plane, and so found this strange system of information, mostly rubbish, and stumbled upon this meeting ground of what I can only assume must be great minds of science to have found their way here as well. I have not been in kinship with other like minds for over two decades, you see- I traveled out of the blessed city to the rural home of my youngest sister, Liv, on the news that she was with child… only to find that she had died during childbirth, and that there was no one to care for her son, Andreas. The father left only an heirloom, and I have not any details to his identity.
I raised young Andreas as I would my own son, in the stead of my dear sister, teaching him in the ways of science and Elemental Theory as is the tradition of young scholars of the great university. Andreas is a bright young man, although not comfortable in society (not a problem for which I am capable of any worthwhile advice, the poor lad), and a bit of a woodsman- But he has a knack for applying his studies to his trade as a hunter and trapper, and brings me many interesting specimens of elemental corruption for study, like my Vera here.
Well, that’s quite enough for a first entry, I think- I am eager to know your thoughts, travelers.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
My name is Mikaela. I’m nineteen, and not too long ago, I got run out of my own village for talking to a horse. I accidentally did magic, and apparently that means I’m an evil bringer of doom and deserving of execution by pitchfork. So me and my horse Pride ran away and I found out that I’m a Ghost - not the dead kind, but the magic kind (though I have this feeling that there’s a strong chance that I’ll end up the dead kind as well). And now I apparently have to make a choice.
See, there are these four different magical creatures that used to roam this world back in The Golden Age (every world had one, it seems, but we’re never actually living in it) wielding their magic and being generally awesome and terrifying. They killed each other off in true magical creature fashion, but their magic stuck around, began to attach itself to humans (for lack of anyone better, I guess), and four new kinds of magic users emerged. They took on the names of the four original magical creatures and formed the four Holds: the Fae, Phoenix, Centaur, and Shifter Holds. They each have super special abilities and each one is, of course, the best. Or so they each tell me.
I found all this out a few weeks ago now, at about the same time I found out that I was one of the lucky few humans called Ghosts who are able to join any one of the four Holds and become very powerful. So they all want me. So they’re all chasing me. I don’t think I’m paranoid when I say that pretty much the whole world is out to get me.
Then I met Alec, who’s a Shifter, and Tevrin, a little kid who’s a Ghost, and a prodigy, at that. Alec is part of some big cooperative effort to bring peace and harmony amongst the Holds (sweet, right?) to keep them from repeating their ancestors’ mistake and killing each other off again; and they think that Tev is somehow the key to all this.
I’m just along for the ride. You’d think that if Tev was the one they all wanted, they’d leave me alone, but oh no. I guess they figure that since I’m here, they might as well harass and chase and bother and threaten me too until I finally pick one - or get killed. I like to think that I can avoid becoming a crazy magical killer, but I’m not seeing any other options. At this point, staying alive is all I can handle.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Speaking of weirdos, there's this one dude that thinks he's going to be a teacher. If I were hiring, this guy would get nowhere near anyone under the age of 30. He's just that sludgy. Makes me shudder just thinking about him.
A lady three doors down from my room thinks she's Mary, the mother of Jesus, and that she's going home soon...to Heaven. She believes all the rest of us are unholy heathens who are keeping her away from where she wants to be and that we're in need her pity and prayers. I'd have to agree with her about the staff, though. They wouldn't be smiling so broadly if they weren't being payed so much.
The other day, I met a guy down the hall who has something he keeps close to his chest. Literally, close to his chest. His hands clutch something, and he's constantly checking on it. (I'm just waiting for him to call it his "precioussss" or something.) But, other than that, he's pretty cool and rather bright. He speaks in complete sentences and everything (which is a rarity around here, it seems). Maybe one day he'll show me what he has.
There are several other freaks around here, but I feel completely normal...except for seeing things that aren't there and hearing voices. The voices keep calling my name. They want my help, but I can't figure out what they want me to do. I guess it doesn't really matter because they don't really exist anyway. The things I see look mostly cartoonish. Creatures that aren't real (like the pumpkin-headed fellow who is so sad, or the cute little fuzzy things kind of like chipmunks). Sometimes the walls "breathe" or the carpet turns into a swirling mass of miscellaneous shapes. Other than that, though...I truly do feel normal.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
I sitting here, minding my own business, and some guy up and pops into the tavern where I'm waiting for new recruits, and he's wearing really weird clothes, and shoves a brush into my hand.
"Write a brief biography" he says, "we're going to put it on the web!"
What in the world is 'the web', from the way he said it I'm going to assume it doesn't have anything to do with spiders. But then, hey, its not like I've got anything else to do till some recruits start showing up so here goes nothing...yeah, nothing.
My name is Yosu Seshui, Yosu is the family name Seshui is the personal name, this guy didn't sound like he knew that. I grew up in the Yosu family of the Kari clan, which probably means nothing to any of you but hey...I don't really care I don't have a clue who you are anyway. I'm a sorcerer, used to work for the Toshi clan then I met Hisoka and, well, my life took a turn for the bizarre.
See, we were both drunk, which I never do I swear, but we were...it was a hard day, and I kind of convinced her to buy this boat with a trunkload of stolen gold. I didn't know it was stolen at the time, that came up later. Anyway the boat was a piece of crap and it took three months just to get the thing sea-worthy and find a crew and by then, well, the money was gone. Hisoka always wanted to be a pirate, that's half of what the Same clan does anyway, so...we decided to start pirating.
We did that for about three years, just kind of floated around wherever the wind took us and ransacked whoever we came across...except for the Neshelim. Yeah, we tried that once, chased down a Neshelim ship right out of the port, we had to replace most of our crew, we didn't do it again.
We were actually getting pretty good at the whole pirate thing when we chased down this one Merin ship and whoop, up comes a giant sea-demon, eats the ship crew and all. Hisoka, Saba, and I were the only one's that made it out alive, as far as I know anyway. Then there was that whole thing with this insane Merin priest, seriously nuts, and another demon and, well, suffice it to say that by the time we made it back to land no-one wanted to step foot on a boat again for a while.
So, now we're trying this whole mercenary thing, Hisoka's idea...I love the woman but she runs me ragged. I guess there's a war brewing between the Anteisei and the Meiyo, big surprise there, so we should have enough work...if we can find some soldiers, otherwise its gonna be the three of us on our lonesomes...lonesome...whatever. So, uh, hey there's a guy coming up to my table, looks like an Okami...this should be interesting. The guy who asked for this said something about questions so...I don't know how that's going to work but I guess I'll get them if you ask them.
Friday, September 3, 2010
"My name is Nathaniel Masone. No, not 'Mason', 'Mah-son-ee.' It's Italian. I'm not really in touch with my cultural heritage, but my grandmother is. She's a rolling pin-waving, garlic-wielding, holy water-tossing Catholic harridan who attacks poor unsuspecting vampires. I have a cute five year old sister, but she's not any friendlier. The kid's a psychopath who thinks she's a pirate, and tries to keelhaul people on a regular basis.
Despite the fact that I come from such refreshingly violent and bloodthirsty roots, I am a pretty boring individual. I somehow managed to get a position in the faerie court, even though I have no special powers to speak of, other than good getaway-car driving skills and deadly accuracy with a .45. You'd think I would have at least ended up with the mob, but no. I spend most of my time babysitting the afore-mentioned little sister, studying old books, and interfering in the life of a brilliant dark sorcerer, who has so far been gracious enough to let me live."
Yeah, that pretty much sums up Nat. A little healthy moral corruption would do wonders for him. But, enough on Nat. The manticore venom is almost done boiling, and I have to get back to work...
Thursday, September 2, 2010
What can I say…my life was never normal. Orphans dream of normal, but that is something that they don’t get to have—their parents being dead and all. I always thought my parents were crazy to name me Beatrix, but they did not ask me. Not that they would had they lived long enough to see my first birthday. Sorry, I think I might be sounding bitter. I am not bitter; it is just a fact of my life. And for anyone to understand me, they have to know this fundamental fact—I have never had a family or a place that I called home since I can remember. This changed when I met Mr. White, on my sixteenth birthday. (It was pretty much the best and strangest day of my life). White (which is the only name he has ever given me or anyone) is my godfather, though I don’t think he really wants to be, but the idea could grow on him. My godfather has a rather unique occupation—He is Death and I now live in the House of the Dead with all the souls waiting to cross over the Styx. OK that last statement is not entirely true. I live in the House of the Dead but it is not completely full of dead people. Nora and Hyrum live there as well as Bast, Othinn, Poly, Martin, Emmit and my dear friend Grimm. They work for or with or are Death—I am not sure of the logistics of how immortals and Death really work.
Anyway, the dead mostly stay to themselves…well except Violet. She has or is having difficulty coming to terms with her deaths. She has adopted me or something like that. She thinks that I came from the Living solely to be her nanny. I suppose in the grand scheme of things I don’t mind being her nanny. I mean it is really fun to tease her; she is really touchy about being dead. And her company is not entirely boring. She keeps things interesting. Violet is a permanent fixture in the House of the Dead, sort of like a rug that no one likes but no one can get rid of because it was a gift from the favorite Aunt or something. I am not well versed in the protocol for gifts and such but Nora the Housekeeper explained Violet that way and I sort of liked it.
Anyway, I recently found out that I am the wrong goddaughter or the wrong Beatrix Wynn (Apparently, there was more than one of us with a fairly bad name.) The Fates messed up my fate and her fate…well the other Beatrix is lost. The Fates lost her and I have to find her because the worlds are unraveling…