Kylea_McAllister

10 September 2008 @ 05:14 pm

I didn’t come lookin’ for trouble
And I don’t want to fight needlessly
But I’m not gonna hide in a bubble
If trouble comes for me

"The real question is, why is God working so hard on tempering your heart with such intensity? Its not the past you should be concerned about. Its why you were set on this path and where its headed." Wisdom. From Nick of all people. She remembered those words clear as a bell even though they were over two months ago, when she felt she finally set her life back right again. With those words in mind, she had finally contacted Rook. He came up to the house and had a look around while she told him what happened. Not best pleased obviously, but understanding in why she'd taken her sweet time getting around to him. All that said and done, and with the knowledge he would enforce the consillium's voice in Portal being unwelcome in Rome, she'd gone on to the meeting with him.

I can feel my heart beating faster
I can tell something’s coming down
But if it’s gonna make me grow stronger then…

There was plenty that needed her attention. Tombs hadn't told her last she saw him that Rome was that badly lacking in Arrow presence. She honestly hadn't paid attention before. Consilium house going crazy with a safe in the basement eating spirits....One of the Bound free. Shit. One problem of many. Not one that can be solved quickly though. Others though....

Now, maybe you’re thinkin’ I’m crazy
And maybe I need to explain some things
‘Cause I know I’ve got an enemy waiting
Who wants to bring me pain

The girl lay on the table. The taint rolled off of her and even Ronnie's attempts at clensing her failed. Ky heard enough of the story behind her. She was the first one to jump off the bridge. She'd seen the ghosts acting it out thanks to Shade's giving the death sight. Not things she liked looking at. Really. But necessary. Fucking moros. The girl was a good little catholic. The kind that everyone knew was a good girl. The kind with the little secret that gets them knocked up. And apparantly, the kind that decide life isnt worth living when you're carrying an unwanted child. That alone pissed Ky off. It was like throwing salt on the wound. Instead of death though, she had awakened on the way down and never hit the ground. Trapped in a space anomoly for the last two months she had become tainted and believed the Awakening was a curse.

She couldnt disagree there. The Awakening is a curse. She listened to Ronnie's words just the same, the results of his divination. No promises on if the girl could actually be recovered. She couldnt be clensed because she believed her current status to be a curse. She couldnt be convinsed otherwise without getting her over the loss of her unborn child. Perhaps something changed in that two months she had been trapped? Who knows. But Ronnie was sure if she was going to be recovered that it would be alot of work and hell on whoever tried.

But what he never seems to remember
What he means for evil God works for good
So I will not retreat or surrender

A look around the room told her the girl had a snowballs chance in hell for survival. For not being Arrow, and for not having any Guardians present, they had a damn near unanimous vote to kill her. Of those present, only Ky and Rook didn't want the girl dead. Rook couldn't help her. Ky could. Her voice rang out into the silence, "I'll take her. I'll try." They looked at her like she was crazy. "If anyone has experience in losing kids, I do. I can understand that part, I can sympathize."

Bring it on
Let the lightning flash, let the
thunder roll, let the storm winds blow
Bring it on
Let the trouble come, let the
hard rain fall, let it make me strong
Bring it on

This was hell. This girl was putting her through hell. She wasn't ready to deal with this again. It was like reliving the deaths of her children every day. The punching bag was long since destroyed. Her hands torn open on the trees around the house. She'd called her brother for help and support. He'd told her to call If. Call If?! What the fuck? The only thought she could manage was of that little twit. Pixel. She fumed about that. For a couple of days. She had him whipped...and he....he was happy. Wasn't that what she wanted for him? To be happy? Isn't that why she'd not contacted him when she needed him, not knowing he had awakened as well. Time to leave well enough alone maybe. He'd warned her, after all.

Let me be made weak so I’ll know
the strength of the One who’s strong

She wasnt a McAllister anymore anyway.

Bring it on

Current Location: Kingston, GA

Current Mood:

cold

Current Music: Bring it On, Steven Curtis Chappman

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05 July 2008 @ 07:01 am

[Kylea] Headspace

She was tired of the house, tired of being stuck here. Ewan had banned her bike so she couldn't use it. Of course she'd tried to pick the magic apart, to no avail. She'd yelled at him for it, even decked him for it. He didn't care, just shook his head and wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight. She had collapsed into tears. Again.

Hey, don't write yourself off yet.
It's only in your head you feel left out or
looked down on.

She'd been quiet a while. Ewan was upstairs sleeping. She climbed out the window and dropped to the ground wearing jeans and a simple tank top and her heavy boots. She looked at her bike, not even bothering with it, and then at his car, knowing he'd wake as soon as he heard it roar to life. No, she needed transportation for what she planned, but neither of these was going to work. With a smirk she headed for the barn where Skip was waiting. The old clydesdale was waiting for her, like always. She'd bought him as a colt 10 years ago and raised him, never put a saddle on him though he'd certainly hauled things for her. He would do that today as well, and she gathered rope and her work gloves. He followed her out easily enough and she hauled herself up onto his back, nudging him down the slope and away from the house.

Just try your best, try everything you can.
And don't you worry what they tell themselves when you're away.

She shifted through the rubble that was the blasted side of the mountain, using the long poles she'd brought with her to make the job easier, searching for the right sizes and shapes. She only needed two, just right, and close to matching. After about an hour of digging, she found one and fetched the rope, wrapping the stone securely with the rope and forming a makeshift harness for Skip, he pulled the stone free in a few moments for her to inspect. She smiled, this one would work, now she just needed another. Turning back to the rubble, she went back to the same area, pleased to find another stone, very similar in size, shape and color close by. After hauling it out too, she realized that they were in fact the same stone, split when it fell from the mountain side. Even better.

It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle, it'll up the ride.
Everything will be just fine, everything will be alright.

The slope was a long uphill climb. She'd made a pole drag from the harness, having Skip pull it up the mountain. She walked along behind him, rope digging into her shoulders. She carried the other end a bit off the ground, Skip supported most of the weight, but she didn't need to leave tracks up the mountain side. So hot and sweaty, they finally made it up to the spring fed pond, one of the features she'd bought the house and land for. She let the rope slack and the drag hit the ground, groaning as the weight was released from her shoulders, and wiped her brow of the sweat flowing down her face. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for any place else she might want to set the stones, but she knew already where they were going.

Hey, you know they're all the same.
You know you're doing better on your own, so don't buy in.
Live right now.
Yeah, just be yourself.
It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.

The stones were wrestled into place between herself and Skip and she stepped back to inspect her work, nodding in satisfaction. Perfect. This would work. She glanced up the hill towards the house where Ewan was hopefully still sleeping. Why didn't he understand that she needed something to do to ease her mind? She gave Skip a pat and free'd him from the harness and settled down on her knees in front of the first stone. Tombs, her old mentor and a stone worker, would laugh and chide her. She'd taken her time choosing stones she knew he would have liked, but her tools were crude - a railway spike and a hammer. Her shoulders shrugged at the memory, his hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to be Crimson, little warrior. You'll make a fine Arrow, but you have to let go, move on. I'll help you..." She had nodded then, as she did now, and set her crude tools to the stone.

It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything will be just fine, everything will be alright.
It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything will be just fine, everything will be alright.

Her hands lost themselves in the work before her. The sound of metal striking metal and chipping away stone filled the area.   She let her thoughts consume her.

Solaris, her brother's adopted kid, strong despite an appearance totally to the contrary, "You're going to be okay" she'd nodded to him, "I keep telling myself that." He'd watched her, no stranger to pain, she knew, "Are you believing it yet?" She'd swallowed hard against impending tears, "No."

Nick, when they had visited Eric and Clare's graves, had held her tight, a shelter against the tears that kept coming, "They have long since forgiven you. God has long since forgiven you. And you never needed to even seek forgiveness from me. Your burden of guilt is exausting you..."

Ewan, her own brother that understood this pain better than perhaps anyone else, was doing everything he knew how to help her. Told her how he had destroyed himself in his grief, inability to cope....even him, "Losing your children was not your fault. Not this time. And it doesn't mean you're any less entitled, or any less worthy. It just means really, unbelievably shitty things happen sometimes."   His strong arms wrapped around her again, "You've always been stronger than me Evie" If that was true, why couldn't she see her way out of this?

Hey, don't write yourself off yet.
It's only in your head you feel left out or
looked down on.
Just do your best, do everything you can.

The tears flowed as she worked, thoughts swirling around in her head. Words echoing, "Sort your shit out, or it will fucking kill you." This was the only way she knew how... Her eyes didn't see her work, they just did it. There was the brief curious thought of wondering if this was how Tombs had worked, perhaps even why he did it. She knew the story of his brother and how he'd awakened himself. She had to have closure, it was the only way to move on.

And don't you worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say.

She wiped away the chips from the surface of the stone. Her hands were raw, bloody in places.   She blinked in surprise, both were done, and not in the names she had been intending. The work was good, better than she thought herself capable. Perhaps the Moros' hand had been guiding her again as he once had. She thought about the names, carved there in the stone, and smiled. Not what she had been intending at all, but appropriate. Hopefully, the doorway to peace again, or at least as close to it as an Arrow gets anyway.

It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything will be just fine, everything will be alright.

Haven and Hamon McAllister. Shelter and Protection. She smiled and nodded, wiping the tears away with bloody hands. Yes, they were good names.

It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything will be just fine, everything will be alright.

Current Location: Kingston, GA

Current Mood:

thoughtful

Current Music: Jimmy Eat World, The Middle

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18 June 2008 @ 05:05 pm

[Kylea] You cant look back

Blood red lips traced with a tongue they shine,
Cut through a crowded room.
A look can say a lot sometimes

The bar had been crowded the night she and walked in, still full of hurt and anger from the split a week before, and looking to pick a fight. She'd found the first one easy. Some loser had put his hand on her ass and her reply had been to call him a faggot and tell him go fuck some other piece of shit up the ass. It was over too quick and she wasn't satisfied. So she sat down to play a few hands of cards. The dealer and his friend were cheating card sharks. It took her less than a hand to decide that. The smirk crossed her lips as she called them on it, sparking a second fight.

Every disappointment and mistake,
Some resentment from a one-night heartbreak.
My head is spinning
My hands go damp,
But still I force an introduction

She checked the cards and threw then back down, looking over the guy that had interfered with the fight as she lit a new cigarette and picked up her miraculously unspilled drink and downed the rest of it. He had the air of a rich boy that maybe wanted out of his gilded cage. That was one she understood well enough. She'd been the rich girl in the same situation not a large number of years ago. He introduced himself. Prime sight told her he was a sleeper. Not bad looking and, as he offered to play a straight hand of cards with her and buy another drink, she decided he'd do as well as any of these others for a good fucking. She didn't care about the cards anymore...and offered him a ride.

You feel like home up against me so close,
Though we've just met tonight .
There's still so much that we still don't know,
But I'm fairly certain
That we just might work out right.
Then again it can all go up in flames,
And I'll take you down in the name of love.
But for now let's kiss hard,
Fuck the games.
All or nothing, it's written in blood

Two weeks later found her still hanging out at that bar at night. She should have moved on by now. Yet something in her was having fun, watching him twist and squirm as she turned him a bit, got him to enjoy the thrill of things that his posh life hadn't shown him yet. She knew just by the reactions he gave. It made her understand why Nick had the thrills he did when they did things years before. Nightly rough fucking gave her the release she needed, so she justified staying in the area with that.

Another game of pool and they'd go. She knew that as she teasingly stretched across the table for her shot, legs spread wide and inviting with her hips pressed against the table. He pressed against her with a growl, she missed the shot completely as he pressed against her and turned to kiss him, the world falling away as his fingers pulled at her hair, trying to elicit the response he wanted. It was the solid white suit that got her attention, and she turned to look at it. The man approaching looked so much like him that it took no time at all to know this was the father, the ring on his finger alerting her to more subtle things as she cycled through her sights to discover that he was a mage, just before he made some snide remark about her, and banished his son from the area.

On the way to the wedding,
Dressed in black, she said
"Sorry lover but you can't look back."
She says
"Oh no," she goes,
"Oh no," she goes
"Slow down baby or you're gonna explode."

Years later, he showed up in Cocoa. She'd been surprised to see him. He still had the coin she'd given him when they'd parted ways. It was a brief topic of conversation, amongst many others that they discussed. But there was something to his thinking. She'd changed things for him, changed the flow of his life in much the same way Nick had once changed hers. In a strange way, she could understand his feeling, could bet on the current one.

Soft wet skin, hairs raised, body tired;
And the sheets are across the floor.
You tell me that love don't last,
Drawing circles with your fingernails across my back.
As your lips form the words you won't say,
In the distance your favorite song plays.

He had whispered sweet intoxicating words. Her resolve slipped, and it found them in a tangle on the ground, spent in each others arms. More than once throughout the night.

I turn you over and look in your eyes,
Promise you that this is forever
Or till one of us dies.

The call for help had gone out for Oklahoma City. Because Rax andPayday had made it, she decided to go. She respected both and would lend her skills to their fight. Tulsa wasn't far off, so she went there first for a visit to check up on Ty. In the end, he was the one that did the checking. "Well if they need help.. if you want me to go I will.. but Evie.. you're pregnant..." She'd sat down hard. That was news she wasn't expecting in the slightest. Nor was the second and third shocks he'd offered, twins, as he settled his hand on her still flat stomach, "Mine."

Days later...the shots rang out.

You taste like tear stains
And could have beens,
But I love a good train wreck.

She slept fitfully in between bouts of trying to clean up the blood. Babies she hadn't wanted when first hearing the news, and then decided it would be good to have a last chance, were now dead. Her brother had been to help, tried to comfort her and ease her sleep and nightmares. But he had his own things to take care of, and she had to try to move on. Again.

You tell me don't get too attatched
Like this is just entertainment.

She'd gone to Cocoa, hoping that he would show. He did, though she'd broken down there by the koi pond. Then had to go through Anderson to get time alone with him so they could talk without prying eyes and ears. Time for them to be alone and grieve together their loss. He was strong for her, though the pain in his eyes was obvious, he didn't cry, holding and comforting her while she did. Words unspoken and others implied. Somehow an understanding that didn't need a voice.

Then again it could go up in flames,
And I'll take you down in the name of love.
Maybe one last kiss just to ease the pain
All or nothing it's written in blood

She'd gone to Oklahoma City like she'd said, despite knowing that her focus was clouded. She had to go. Standing on the razor's edge again would help. Then Morior did like he said he would, and arrested Portal. And brought him back to the Consilium, separating her from the cause of her pain by nothing more than a metal box and maybe, maybe a mile of distance. She had to go, get out of there. A hotel, anyplace would be better. So she got a room and meditated. Searching and searching for her center until she found it.

Then the phone rang. "I'm in OKC...." she knew she wanted to see him.

"Sorry lover but you can't look back."

Current Location: OKC

Current Music: She Wants Revenge, Written in Blood

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06 June 2008 @ 04:17 pm

[Kylea] Sever the tie

"Evie, you know everything I do, I do because I love you right?" She had nodded, he was leaving because she wasn't a good person. She understood that. She blinked, the feeling of cold steel against her stomach, held there by the man in her arms. The one she loved, the one that had just told her he loved her. Then there was nothing but the deafening roar in her ears.

I'm tangled and broken
Left scattered on the floor
Its useless now
There pieces
Can never make me whole

'Is my own gun this loud?' Hands came up to cover the gaping wound, shot by the desert eagle at point blank range. "What if you want to be a mother again?" Ewan's words. "I don't" had been her own quick response months ago. It had been true then. She hadn't. She didn't want to be a mother, wasn't cut out to be one and she knew it. Then the unthinkable happened. She was pregnant. She fell to her knees in pain, the sure knowledge that the precious cargo she carried was too fradgile for this forcing the words from her lips despite there being barely enough air for them. She couldn't even hear them, didn't get the chance as the heavy pistol in his hands sang its deadly chorus once more.

You wither
You blister
I watch you burn and peal
It's not like you
Can save me
It's not like you even care

The second shot landed just below the first. The casting faltered on impact as she gasped in pain, hands adjusting on her abdomen doing little to stop the flood of blood that escaped between them to pool around her on the floor. The copper smell and the tang on the back of her throat as her labored breaths passed her lips was enough to turn ones stomach. Eyes filled with pain and disbelieve turned on him, the one she had trusted so intimately, now betraying her so deeply. Good God he was aiming again! Was he going to kill her for this? Legs struggled to move as she turned, one bloody hand leaving her stomach to brace on the floor in an effort to move, a short desperate cry of "Dont!" escaping her. A tear rolled down his face, "Why not Evie?" and his aim adjusted, taking into consideration her movement and attempt to get to her feet again, "I love you too baby....Wait. Imagne that. Baby." She got to her feet and turned to face him, but was unarmed, her body screaming in pain, the life within her dieing or dead already. "Trevor...Please..." His eyes met hers evenly, finger laying on the trigger as he pulled it again.

I'm finding it so hard to hold on
This is where it falls apart
This is where it falls apart

"I'm sorry Evie" She crashed to the floor, landing on her back with both hands to her stomach, now riddled in molten metal. No chance for survival for the life she had been carrying. Her blood pooled around her at an alarming rate, fingers rapidly cooling as the pressure she tried to apply became less and less. The thought dimly occurred to her that if he shot her again, she would die. "I'm sorry it had to come to that Evie. And don't forget I still love you." She tried to force her fingers down tighter against herself, her mind collecting her thoughts enough to cast again to save her own life. "Heal it" came the command. He wasn't going to kill her then. She took a ragged breath and began the casting again, healing the extensive damage he'd done, though it took time. He waited until the flow of blood had slowed before speaking again, "Goodbye, Evana McAllister. I really did want to marry you. That baby was supposed to be mine. It was supposed to fucking be MINE!" Tears flowed down her face to mingle with the blood on the floor as the ancient words continued from her lips, casting still to save her own life.

I feel helpless as my everything comes
Crashing down on me
This is where it falls apart
This is where it falls apart

He looked down, her blood splattered over himself, the furniture and so much of it spread on the floor, a sob escaping him as he stepped backwards into the portal, leaving her to finish the healing alone.

I feel helpless as my fucking world comes
Crashing down on me

Some time later, the casting stopped. Her body healed. Life sight told her everything she needed to know. Dead. She still lay in a pool of her own cool blood, sticky around her as she fumbled for her pocket, reaching for her phone. She'd programmed in the number he'd given her, hitting dial. An unfamiliar man answered the phone, sounding groggy. Her own voice was hoarse and sounded awful. "I wanna talk to my brother. Now. Dont you say no Goddamnit." Minutes later, he was on the phone, equally groggy, "Its one in the morning." How had she managed to hold on to the tears this long? "I don't care....Ewan..." as she started crying.

Crashing down on me

Current Location: Rome, GA

Current Mood:

cold

Current Music: Stabbing Westward, Falls Apart

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17 February 2008 @ 06:58 pm

[Kylea] Rationale

Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear
Sealed with lies through so many tears
Lost from within, pursuing the end

Sting. Turn, block swing, yank. Pain. She remembered now. She had agreed to it. She had agreed because otherwise she would drown in grief and pain, keep killing until someone came to kill her. And yet, she knew she didn't realize exactly what she was agreeing too. Her understanding of what was to be done didn't match the memories she had. She was supposed to remember giving up Eric and her unborn daughter, memories replaced with Cypher and Key. But little Eric had been erased completely. Change hands. Duck. Close distance. Swing. Pull. Trip. Kick.

You will never be strong enough
You will never be good enough
You were never conceived in love
You will not rise above

Pain. No Swords. Chains only. Yank. Hard. This time would be different. It had to be. Fuck it all if it felt like it just happened. Fuck it too if now she remembered both series of events. One clearly not adding up right and definitely not making sense, but accepted as truth, and the other perfect. A brief period in her life where, for once, it might have been okay. She even remembered the brief fleeting thought of taking them home, if for no other reason than they didn't need to be exposed to her life, to the things that were out there waiting for mages. On the ground. Kick. Coil. Swing.

They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

Blood. Crimson. That's what she had been then. The name made sense again. She had called herself what she had spilled. She had hunted endlessly. Right up to the point that she ran into him. Wormwood. The one that had made her see straight again. Showed her that she had become the monsters she hated. How long before she became the hunted? She hated that feeling, prey. She wasnt prey. But now she understood didn't she? She hadn't cared then when she killed, only that the job was done. Someone else would live free and unmolested by the dark things in the world. Blood....

But through my tears breaks a blinding light
Birthing a dawn to this endless night
Arms outstretched, awaiting me
An open embrace upon a bleeding tree

She tracked blood away from the ring as she left it. She wouldn't become that again. She couldn't. Wouldn't. No one needed to know about this. No one needed to know. Christ, what she needed right now was a good grudge fuck. Those were the best kind. Hard, furious, savage. Left her feeling good afterwards, frustrations spent. She downed a few drinks and left the bar. Frustrations were worked out for the time being. Head clear enough to think. Now what she needed...was to ride. The small flame of the lighter lit up her face.

Rest in me and I'll comfort you
I have lived and I died for you

Miles. Roaring engine. Realistically, what did this change? She knew when she awakened what she was meant for. She could justify her path. She had justified continuing on it herself a few times. Old testament Priests had to be cleansed to enter the holy places to intercede on behalf of the people. They did this because the people couldn't bridge the gap on their own. She knew then, as she did now, that her place was in the gap. She was no priest, but the holy place...was for the ones with the wisdom to achieve. It was not hers to have, never was, and never would be. Her place was as simple as it always was. She stood in the gap. She would take the hit so that someone else didn't have to, and that was fine by her. Knowing what happened, that she had been a mother, it changed nothing. The world continued. Perhaps it was time to talk to Ewan again, about his Legacy. They key turned and the engine died.

They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

The stars were beautiful tonight. Clear. So was her path.

Current Music: Evanescence, Lies

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04 February 2008 @ 07:12 pm

[Kylea] Ripping the Rug

Cos this world swallows souls
And when the blues unfold
It gets cold silence burns holes
You're going mad
Perhaps you always were

They had taken the climb straight up, 600ft up the blasted side of the mountain. Kelly of course made better time. She was really getting too old for this shit, but hey, it was a good workout. She'd slipped once, dropping 10ft before her hands grabbed onto the rock again. Dangerous – neither one of them wore any safety equipment.

"What was it like growing up with Uncle?" She resisted the urge to tell a humiliating story, as several came to mind, and instead answered, "We had fun. Believe it or not he was a good boy once." They bantered conversation back and fourth and she was happy, spending time with her daughter, even if the girl was clueless. They sat there on the edge of the cliff talking, enjoying the company right up until Kelly asked, "So what's behind the door?" The door. She didn't even remember anymore. Just knew that she didn't want to open it. Ever. "Are you scared?" No she wasn't scared. It just wasn't important enough to know. Never had been. But isn't there something odd about that all by itself? Shit why does everyone come around and ask about that? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to dust the knob or maybe even put some furniture up in the way or some shit.

When you most need to get up you got no energy
Time and time shit'll happen
The dark shit's unwrapping
But no-one's listening your mates are laughing
Your brethren's fucking and then you start hating
Your stomach starts churning and you mind starts turning.

Kelly kept digging at it, and eventually, she'd had enough, standing and flicking the spent butt of a cigarette over the cliff, climbing back up on the back of the clydesdale horse and offering Kelly an arm up. They rode back in silence and she couldn't help but hope she was done asking questions. But she wasn't. Of course not. That would be too fucking easy.

It didn't take them long to argue their way into the house, where she stood, confronted with that door. It wasn't that she was afraid of it. In fact, she felt nothing at all about it, other than just *knowing* that the door shouldn't be opened. But the girl was still badgering away, so she stepped forward and reached, but still couldn't open the door.

It won't matter no more but the next day still feels sore
Rain taps on your window
Always did tho but you didn't hear it when things were so-so
You're on your own now

It was Kelly who opened it. She couldn't do it, or wouldn't. Either way didn't matter once it was opened. It was a hallway, littered with newspapers, folders that looked like medical folders, a photo album, two open doors, wadded up kleenex and lots of dents in the walls. The air was stale, as it should be, it hadn't seen the light of day in years. She walked in, confused as memories stirred, unbidden, hurtful.

Trembling fingers picked up a newspaper, yellowed with age, the article on the front page, her own name. Her son's name. A car. The name of the other driver. The newspaper was ten years old, to the day, and it told the story in cold detail. The young mother had gone shopping in preparation for when she returned home from the hospital with her newborn. She had been 38 weeks pregnant and not wearing her seatbelt properly. Her son however, had been strapped safely into his rocket seat. For all that she was well trained and often operated solely on instinct, the car driving with the lights of flying down the road, was never seen.

It's that world out there that's fucked you
You're no less of a person and if God exists
He still loves you
Just remember that - the more you sink the further back from that brink
Maybe you've lifetime scars and you think tattoos might be more fitting
But who's picking?
Searching for yourself you find demons

The newspaper fell from numb fingers as the memory of impact took her. The crash through the windshield, trying to curl in the air to protect the precious life within, but landing hard anyway and rolling. The pathetic screams from the boy in the back seat as the car caught fire and her struggles despite the pain and blood to reach him and failing. Kelly was looking at the photo album discarded on the floor. Pictures of a younger girl with a little boy, heavy in another pregnancy. Not her daughter. Not her child. Her children were dead. Hell, one had never truly lived. Her gut wrenched and still she had to look, had to see it. Eric's room. Just as she'd left it. Untouched still. Cream colored walls with trains and rockets and race cars. Toddler bed painted race car red, she'd spent the afternoon painting it the color he wanted. Little sheets covered in dust. Dimly she realized she was crying. Across the hall was another room. The one she'd cleaned out and painted pink, with a new crib and a hand me down changing table. Packages of diapers that were never used lay ready. Ready. . .

Stop dreaming

Her head hurt and she couldn't figure out why. She had to get out. Her feet tracked over papers and folders until she reached the living room, and crossed over it with steps that didn't stop, straight into her room. Dead. Why had she forgotten? The echo of the door closing reached her ears, along with her daughter…no, not her daughter. Her cousin. Her cousin's knock and concerned call. How could she forget? Her gut wrenched again, and she vomited the last of a tv dinner from the night before and booze and then heaved. She knew she was crying, but she couldn't hear the sobs. It was a lie. Kelly came and then left. Left her alone to sort through her memories.

Just try and stay positive
Just try and stay positive

By the time the sun rose, the trears were gone, though her mood definitively sour. Still in shock and confused, there was nothing to do. Nothing at all to do but accept the truth, and move on.

Current Location: Kingston, GA

Current Music: The Streets, Stay Positive

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23 January 2008 @ 06:23 am

[Kylea] Kelly

She was staying at the sprawling estate that her brother's cabal called home for a few days.   It was still a shock, being able to see him again. It had been so fucking long and was something she'd given up hoping for a long time ago. Her brother was Awake....had been awake since before she left home for that matter. That was a bit of a cruel twist in her opinion but not much to be done about it now. Her careful avoidance in her dealings with the sleepers to not be traced back to her family really didn't matter, and she somehow found some irony in that. No, she was not related to *those* McAllisters...the name just happened to be spelled the same. She could just about laugh.

She'd gotten a computer from them staying in contact now and all that shit, so she'd have it when she left. They'd made sure she know how to get online and talk to other mages.   So she sat around a few times and watched conversations and tried to figure out why anyone bothered with this. It was so boring! Damn she had better things to do with her time.   Yet one managed to catch her attention. This one who had little more than two years of her memories, that was just damn unfortunate. But they talked, because well, Ky understood trying to get to know your family again, it was a bit of a soft spot. She vaguely wondered what that would be like, to have no memories at all of family. Fuck, anyone could claim to be related. Anybody at all - and that was damn dangerous.

Then low and behold Bear showed up in the conversation. She hadn't seen or heard from or about him since the few months after she awakened in the mountains near his cabin. She remembered the lessons he taught her, given her the start she needed to continue on her own in mage society. She'd promised to not talk about him or where to find him or any such and it rather looked like he was now out and about which was good....and oh lord, telling the story of when he'd held his hands over hers on his pistol and shot himself and freaked her the fuck out. She still hadn't forgiven him for that shit.

But then....he had to blow her mind again....this girl with no memory of her past was...Kelly? What the fuck? Hell no... Kelly...she remembered holding the infant in her arms. The trip to the hospital... keeping her for a few months before giving her away.   She wasnt suited to be a mother and she knew it. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, give up the child to keep her from living a fucked up life. Ky hadn't even been Awake then. Just the family fuck up, and so she'd given the baby to relatives who had promised never to say anything about what she'd done and to raise Kelly as their own.   The last time she'd seen her, Kelly was four and such a beautiful happy child it hurt to look at her. But her choice had been made. Not long after Evie had taken the walk to her tower, and Evie became Crimson, Apostate Obrimos, the one that never went home. Crimson later became "Little Warrior" after months of being called it by her mentor Tombs, she took on the celtic translation, and became Kylea.

Either way the story goes...Ky had left...left Kelly in care of relatives so she wouldn't fuck the child up. Left home to not fuck up everyone else's lives. How the hell was shit still fucked up without her there? Ewan...Kelly...fuck. One thing was for sure. If Kelly had no memories, then she still didn't need to know. Ky wouldn't tell her. Surely the mind of someone who didn't know who the fuck they were didn't need the added burden of being given away. But she'd agreed to meet the girl a few days later when she'd be home and Kelly was going to Atlanta anyway, since that wasn't far from home.

They met in the park and then she followed Ky up the mountain to the house. The girl had a gang tatt on her arm, which Ky found interesting It told her something about her daughter....that apparently, she'd passed on the free living trouble making. Or else it was just in the blood.   They'd talked a bit before the girl got tired, so they slept, or tried too. Nightmares haunted Kelly's sleep, and while it seemed that most awakened Ky knew had nightmares, Kelly's seemed to end abruptly, which Ky didn't like. Questions didn't get anywhere, so Ky shared her philosophy of the rock in the water.

They stood on the edge of the lake half way down the mountain and Ky pressed a rock into Kelly's hand, instructing her to throw it into the water, which she did and then asked the gril what she saw. "Ripples" came the expected answer, everyone observes the ripples, so she questioned what happens to those ripples, "They spread till they eventually fade from existence." Good, maybe, just maybe Kelly would get this. Not everyone did, though she'd shared it many times in the past. Each person's interpretation of the metaphor was different and it didn't always work. So she continued, "Problem solved right? Just wait long enough?" Kelly's answer was the same as everyone else's. Ky had never gotten a different answer to the question, "Right" so Ky was quick to correct, "Wrong." that got an answering scowl from Kelly. "The rock, signifying your problem, is still under the surface. It can still be dredged up. Proby nastier than it was when it was thrown in in the first place and cause alot more problems when it comes back." Fuck, as many times as she'd done this, there were things in her own life she needed to dredge up, but right now...that wasn't important. What was important...was could she get a connection with her daughter?   She would settle for being an aunt and a friend. It would have to do. She'd made her choice 16 years ago and was really all she deserved anyway.

Current Mood:

thoughtful

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13 January 2008 @ 05:09 pm

[Kylea] Coming home

She stands there a moment, stunned watching the man fall to the ground dead, a clutch of wallets stolen from their rightful owners scattering around him before the sound of an engine starting draws her attention. She's heard it before, seven years ago. A one night stand, a fling, easily forgotten, so it took her a moment to remember. The chains came easily to her hands as they always did, wrapping around the bars of the bike and turning the driver towards her. His hand held a pistol aimed dangerously towards her, in spite of that, she stands there unphased.

He owed her dinner, she remembered that. A home cooked meal, promising it would be good. If that was the case…it would be the first one in so long she couldnt remember. The ride was long and uneventful, ending at a sprawling estate which failed to impress. Not the first one she'd seen, wouldn't be the last. He started cooking and she watched, mildly interested talking briefly to his sister when she came in. Feigned interest in what was going on stopped as another came stumbling down the stairs cursing.

It took a moment to recognize him, the piece of bread she had been eating slipping from her fingers to the floor, forgotten, once she did, as the idle conversation around her fell on deaf ears. Her last memories were of…a happy, pudgy computer geek of a brother, terrified of her driving and not understanding the freedom she lived her life with, starting his own life, getting a good job, a good wife, going places…going to be someone. There was nothing of that in the man before her. He looked like he had walked hand in hand with misery and death since the last time she'd seen him, and was much the worse for wear. Her mind slowed spinning enough to finally ask, "Ewan?" his response, looking at her, looking right at her, "Who the fuck is this?" cut to the bone.

How could he not recognize her? His own sister…they had grown up together, done everything together until she left home…Jesus, he was only a few hours older than her. The words sent her reeling. Not only had the brother she had sought to protect not have the happiness she'd hoped for…she couldn't even think. Her request was simple, though forgotten a moment later, for Truth to take her back to town. Hearing her name again, the first time in 12 years, brought her back to him.

He had changed so much, in so many different ways, but his arms still fit snugly around her in the same comforting embrace it had so many years ago. Her brother's arms had changed, no longer pudgy and weak, they were strong and sure now. Something about that made it that much more comforting. They had once shared everything, she had thought she never would be able to again. Perhaps now, she could have a brother again, have a family again..... His car was fast, and he drove every bit as badly as she did so many years ago when she had made him scream in fear. But he enjoyed it now, or seemed to anyway. It would be good to be around again....very good

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20 June 2007 @ 11:08 am

Visits

Domovoi’s hand is warm in mine as I teleport us both across the miles. I hope that Ewan has recovered….I hated seeing him in the shape he was in last. Unshaven, unkempt, he hadn’t eaten in days and he reeked of smoke and alcohol. We had talked, and then I had asked how I could help, and he didn’t know. So I suggested a shower and a meal…

I smile and turn the water on for him, and usher him closer to the shower, and then am frozen in shock for a few moments as he steps in, clothes and all. In the few seconds it takes me to respond, I realize he’s not even registering.

I laugh at the joke he tells, ragging on Dom’s Philadelphia Eagles cap and give him a hug, relieved that he’s dressed, clean, and seems to still be well fed as I squeeze him lightly. His niece comes out, and I offer her a brief thanks for making sure he keeps eating, making a joke that force feeding isn’t any fun and I wouldn’t have wanted to do it to him anyway.

I reach into the shower and start stripping him out of his now soaked clothes, and then stand there, waiting to see if he will bathe himself or not. He doesn’t, and so I reach into the shower and start with his hair, shampooing it and scrubbing hard. It kills me inside to just watch him stand there as I bathe him, not flinching as I scrub every inch of his body clean from days of grime.

I help Key get some tea made and we take it out to the guys. I smile briefly. At one point, I had wanted to be the one to make Ewan happy, hell, I had even been jealous when he married Banu. Dom may not be as much to look at, but I love him, and can’t imagine things having gone down differently.

He actually dresses himself, telling me that he has a stew in the kitchen; every other word of its contents is potatoes. I get out bowls and he puts some in the bowl and I watch him start to eat, following suit, and then watch him as he stops. My heart breaks for him as the words cross his lips, “I don’t want to live anymore.” I set my bowl down and take his from his numb fingers, wrapping his larger more powerful form into a hug against my much smaller one. Ewan breaks into heaving sobs of pain against me, and I silently curse God for his suffering…

Our conversation is light, nothing deep at all. Though I cant help but be amused at the picture of Ewan dressed in a Starwars costume, collapsing into peals of laughter that only get worse when I remember Dom’s whistling and my efforts to stop him nights before.

He tells me that he hasn’t slept, his dreams haunt him. I offer to make sure he can rest, and ask him if he will trust me enough to monitor his sleeping mind through the nite. He does, and I smile. I think he’s probably one of very few who has trusted me all along. His dreams aren’t what I expect, and it’s hard for me to decide what to let him dream so that he can rest, and at one point, I force him back to sleep before he can wake. In spite of not having slept in days, he wakes early in the morning, looking better, and makes me breakfast.

We leave after a while, once I’m satisfied that Ewan will recover. I cuddle Dom close to me as we drift off to sleep, inhaling of his scent, of our scent in the bed. I love him, but I need to go see M soon too…

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