Vacation~

Gone for a week, will likely have to save up writing and post it in chunks when I manage to sneak access or all when I return, but will still get the writing done.

- The Management

Third Host: Z and Malachi, Needle’s Embrace

Without even looking up to his reflection in the mirror, she new he was watching her work. This made her smile. More so then just working made her smile. It wasn’t the most intricate piece she had done, by any stretch of the imagination. Just a knotted arm-band. The kind of thing she often sent people off to other shops to get done. Except for those rare few people like this man, who actually had thought it over and really wanted a simple tattoo for a reason.

“So is today actually the big day, or is this a gift after the fact?” She asked.

“Today is it,” the large man grinned, glancing down at her work.

Z stole a glance back at Malachi, waiting across the room patiently, grinned again, then went back to work. “Well, congratulations again. I love getting to do this type of thing.”

“Anyone who knows a thing or two about tattoos knows this is the place to come if you want a piece that means something.”

Z blushed slightly, but kept on working on the tattoo, expert hand detailing the knotted band. “Thank you.”

The conversation drifted off, occasional bits of small talk keeping the room comfortable. Before long Z had finished the work and stood up to let the man examine himself in the mirror. The large man couldn’t help but grin.

“This is perfect!” he said.

Z grinned and cleaned up her work station a little, before turning to head for the little back room. “As much as I’m sure you know the routine, let me get you the care instructions and everything you need. I can ring you up out front.”

The man shook his head and crossed over to Malachi. “You’re a lucky man. Take care of her.”

Malachi smiled a bit wryly, “I intend to, which is why I keep getting in trouble with her.”

He laughed and patted him on the shoulder, “Always the way with the good ones.”

Z stepped back out carrying a small bag and a little brochure. She glanced between the two men a bit warrily. “Behaving yourselves, I hope?”

“Yes Ma’am,” answered the large man.

Malachi laughed and smiled wider, “Always.”

Z watched them both through narrowed eyes, then shook her head and continued out to the front counter. “Men.”

Weekday Morning

Drifting

toward morning,

soft light

creeping in,

stirring sounds,

burrowing into

warmed blankets,

fighting to get

two more minutes

before work.

Summer Nights

Exhaustion sets in,

limbs moving out of sync with mind -

sinking with the moon.

Wind

Watching the wind

play branches

against windows,

soft scrapes,

creaks filling

empty house,

sound building,

flooding quiet,

driving people

indoors, ripping

at buildings,

leaving behind

shreds of comfort.

Building to Collapse

Words disolve

into exhaustion,

too many nights

tossing under dreams,

visions of tomorrow,

yesterdays follies,

all building together

until nothing

coheres, body

surrenders, dreams

momentarily ease

deep wounds

but morning

brings troubles,

another day,

another struggle.

Patterns

Tired

of waiting

letting someone else

dictate terms,

Forcing

a path,

one more choice

cut down

Until

everything looks

exactly the same

as yesterday

Leaving

tomorrow tarnished

a story told

too often -

tired.

A Question

City speaks, listen

to straining cries of crowded dreams -

how many come true?

Journeys

I seek my center,

amidst hums and screams

of a city, splinter populous

chained by geography.

I seek myself

amidst pages and songs,

new voices and old

deafening cacophony of other.

I seek my heart

in memories and shadows,

paper and pencil, old words

murmured in the dark.

I seek so much

without ever finding,

always journeying toward something

that lingers just out of reach.

I seek home,

a sense of permanence,

my safe harbor for storms

I’d like to weather before

I seek something more.

Third Host: Mefathiel, Ezra

Mefathiel shoved the heavy filing cabinet off of him, coughing softly. He weekly brushed at the suit and looked around slowly. Ash was brushed across the nearby buildings and the building was neatly sheered off level with the floor. Ezra was crouched where the door had been, shadows crawling around his feat. Sirens started getting closer.

Mefathiel crossed over to Ezra, grabbed his shoulder and tugged him upright, ignoring the shadows scrabbling at his feat. “We have to go. Neither of you wants to deal with the police.”

Ezra chuckled darkly, “Police? I bet they would be quite tasty.”

Mefathiel pulled him toward the charred staircase. “That would be a stupid move. You’re not stupid. Nor are you in control, really.” Mefeathiel suddenly turned, still holding Ezra’s shoulder with one hand, his other lightly touching the intricate series of tattoos showing through Ezra’s tattered clothing. A faint glow and warmth flowed over Mefathiel’s skin, outline of wings appearing off his shoulders. The glow crept into the warding sigils tattooed into Ezra’s skin.

Ezra let out a snarl, back arching as the glow traced through the patterns, suffusing across chest and back. The shadows receded and Ezra collapsed, eyes fluttering closed.  Mefathiel  picked him up and carefully, settling him over his shoulder, then picked his way down the staircase, bits of it collapsing around him. Mefathiel jumped the last stretch to the ground, wincing a bit underneath the weight of the other man. He picked his way through the charred mess and kicked open the front door. He opened the back door to Ezra’s car and dumped him into the back seat and quickly pulled away, turning down the first available side street to avoid incoming sirens and questions.

Once the sounds of sirens had faded off into the distance Mefathiel finally stopped the car. He reached into the back-seat and gave Ezra a good shake. The other man groaned and stirred slowly. His eyelids fluttered partially open.

“Wha… how?” said Ezra, trying to sit up.

“I gave your wards a little extra juice,” said Mefathiel.

“Oh. Lets… lets try and avoid that in the future. Feels like they’re on fire…”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it would be nice. It’s why I never suggested it before. Couldn’t imagine it having a good effect, considering how entwined into you that thing is,” said Mefathiel.

“That continues to be a rather large problem,” said Ezra.

“Where is the safe house.”

“I’ll drive,” Ezra pushed himself upright and climbed out of the car.

Mefathiel smirked and stepped out of the drivers seat. “I’m impressed. You’re tough even with the demon.”

Ezra dropped into the seat. “There’s a reason I haven’t lost it yet.”

Mefathiel shook his head and circled the car, climbing in the other side. “True enough.”