Francis moved through the chapel doors as quietly as she could manage under an armful of books and bottles. The heavy, wooden doors creaked ominously; threatening to give her away even before she had started. She paused and listened but there was no sound throughout the hallway, only the soft hiss of a candle full of too much tallow. The chapel was cool and silent with soft, flickering light puddling blood-red on the grey stones. Francis leaned against the smiling statue of St. Joseph of Cupertino, savoring his waning chill. She hated that statue, it seemed inappropriate for the gloom of the narthex, but a brooding St. Joe would probably be stranger. She toddled her way past the wooden pews up on to the dais where her bottles and books soon made a terrible racket.
Silence, still everywhere.
Francis wasted no time. The altar would have to be cleared, the cross stashed away, and the Eucharist safely laid next to the stone pitchers of Communion wine.
“Sorry Jesus,” She glanced up at the pieta in the corner, “But I don’t think you’re really going to approve of this.....you and Moltar.”
With the altar clear and the wooden doors stayed with pew backs, Francis checked her watch. She had left the Winter Ball just in time...it was nearly 3 a.m.
“The Hour of the Jackal,” she smiled, “Perfect. We’ll see what that little plant-sucking flower girl thinks of St. Joe’s after she gets a taste of this.”
Francis wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks. She still couldn’t believe that Sister Moltar had given HER detention for the mess in the courtyard. She had gone out to water Jeremy Wingra’s tree when she had seen her. That spoiled little <*&$@#> from Bloodvine. And then there was the memorial tree. The little ash tree was pulsing, twisting in on itself; the wood creaking and moaning in agony. The girl only snickered and watched as the tree lost one branch and then another. How did she do that, how did she get on campus?!?...how come no one else had seen her?!
“You ugly little <*&#@$>” She had screamed, startling the Bloodvine student. “You’re gonna pay for that!”
With that the water can flew into the air splashing Celia Bloodvine with water and plant pellets. For a moment she looked simply irritated and then amused, her uniform was soaked but if that’s all the pink-haired, financial aid, student could muster.....
The tree thrashed again, this time dislodging a sizeable chunk from the root base.
That’s when the truth dawned into Celia’s features. It wasn’t about water, it was about the screeching, crackling blast of lightening arching from Francis’ hands and heading straight for her face. She dove as the powerful Static Shock broke apart the ground beneath her feet and rolled away just in time for the snapping pain of a Tesla Cage to barely lash at her legs. Francis clenched her fists and summoned up as much of her endurance as she could, preparing for the gut-punching blast of Lightening Bolt.
But there was no more time. The Wingra Tree, already sagging from the blow upon blow it had already endured, curled back. The trees remaining branches coiled and the leaves turned sideways in the manner of hundreds of tiny razors. Francis crackled with electricity, her eyes cemented to the Bloodvine enemy facing her down in the courtyard but just as the Lightening Bolt began to seethe through her fingers, Celia popped her knuckles and the tree struck.
The next thing Francis knew she was staring up into the disapproving eyes of Sister Mary Moltar, lying among the debris and detritus of what was once a pleasant lawn, aluminum watering can, and memorial tree. Thankfully the tree is still alive....the only reason Celia Bloodvine is as well.
Now, in the quiet of the early morning, hidden in a pile of books and cache of magical potions Francis smiled and rubbed the huge bruise on her face concealed by an even more than normally judicious use of make-up.
“You’re gonna pay Celia Bloodvine....Your Daddy’s money can’t save you from this debt.”
She pulled out her most prized books, the last of her little library to survive the house fire. She had Robinson’s “Spirit Slate Writing”, Barrett’s “The Magus”, and her personal favorite, the alchemical works of Hermes Trismegistus. She laid out some red chalk, a handful of verbena, three watch gears, a piece of cloth from Father Montoya’s habit, a jar of Dr. Oliver’s pickling solution, and the last piece to her plan, a small handful of Kid Lion’s mane. He didn’t notice it missing and she figured he’d approve if he knew what she was up to. She looked at it and grinned, “Thanks Sweetie.”
Francis cracked her knuckles and began to draw the circle....
Her words echoed off the bare walls....”A pedibus usque ad caput, A posse ad esse...”
The candles began to flicker wildly....” A verbis ad verbera, Abyssus abyssum invocat...”
Trails of electricity began to scorch the ground...” Malum quidem nullum esse sine aliquo bono!!”
The candles went out.
“Take that....Bloodvine.”
Bells, Books, and Candles...
Moderator: Student Council
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
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Floribunda
- Heir Apparent
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Sun Dec 18, 2005 4:19 am
Electricity rippled along the ground, tearing a swatch of turf away. Floribunda had narrowly avoided it, and now lay sprawled out on the seared grass. She rolled to one side and then onto her feet. The pink-haired girl from Saint Joe's was already conjuring up another blast, sparkles of electricity gathering around her, swirling, roiling on the brink of control. Suddenly, without warning, the warping tree that had been the focus of Floribunda's attention, swayed and struck out at the pink-haired girl. Leaves cut her like razors, braches lashed her like whips. The collected energy she had focused exploded outwards, out of control. The tree, the pink haired girl, and Floribunda caught the majority of the blast, the earth around them explodiong upwards as it absorbed the rest of it. But from the safety of the alcove in which he hid, the young man with the cruel smile avoided the blast. Across the courtyard, he could see that his companion had escaped injury as well.
Like Floribunda, the two observers were students of the Bloodvine Academy. The boy with the cruel smile was Bennie Lane, known to the majority of the Academy as Temper. His companion across the courtyard was Elaine Mummery, also known as Shudderspeed. She nodded towards him, signifying that she was unharmed, and Temper nodded back in agreement.
Floribunda hadn't been so lucky. She had been knocked off her feet again, and struggled to stand. Steam rose from her scorched blazer, and the vines about her arms hung limp, lifeless. She staggered again, and started to collapse. With a flash of light and a strange tearing sound, Shudderspeed was instantly beside her, breaking her fall. Temper stepped forward, glancing around nervously. Certainly that commotion was going to be overheard.
"We need to jet," he said, striding quickly across the quad. "Sooner rather than later, too. You okay, Rosie?"
Floribunda nodded with a slight groan. "I'll live." She looked down at the body of the pink-haired girl. Her clothes were shredded down most of the front of her, exposing her pale skin to the moonlight. Thin rivulets of blood flowed from the dozens of small cuts crisscrossing her face, breasts, and abdomen. It took a moment, but then her chest heaved with a ragged, painful breath. Floribunda smiled weakly. "So will she, luckily."
Temper's eyes narrowed as her looked down at the pink-haired girl. "Good thing, too," he said mockingly. "She's fun to play with."
Floribunda didn't seem to catch his meaning, but Shudderspeed certainly did. Her eyes widened. "You did that?"
"Did what?" Floribunda asked, still finding her feet. Then it must have dawned on her. She glanced sideways at Temper. "God, you're a piece of work. No wonder she became so violent."
Temper laughed. "She was already angry, Rosie. I just helped her out a little. It's not good to bottle up one's feelings, you know." Temper loved his powers, and he loved using them. He was a semi-empath and telempath, but his particular talents focused on the negative emotions: greed, anger, lust. He could take them from a person, sculpt them to the shapes of his liking, and force them back upon their makers. Though the results of his efforts were sometimes unpredictable, he was unquestioningly the master of every situation where emotions flared out of control.
Flroibunda chuckled, but it caught in her throat and she coughed. "And what if she had really hurt me? What then?"
"Aah, you're always looking at the downside. Look at the freakin' upside once in a while! Did she even notice the tree was coming for her? No, and I'll tell you why: because her anger clouded her judgment." Temper spread his hands wide, grinning. "So, taa-daa."
"Even so," Shudderspeed began.
Temper cut her off. "Whatever, Elaine. Don't be such a mother-hen all the time."
Now that Floribunda was on her feet again, Shudderspeed stepped closer. "Take that back, Bennie."
Temper felt her flash of anger like heat on his face. What a wonderful feeling, anger. So primal, so pure. He resisted the deep urge to manipulate her, to draw forth rage from irritation. "Done," he said, and shook his head as if to clear it from the euphoria her feelings had produced within him. "I take it back."
Lights started to come on in the large brick buildings to one end of the quad. Shudderspeed turned around so quickly that she displaced the air around her with a soft pop. "Time to go," she said, a tone of fear in her voice.
Floribunda nodded, and turned her attention back to the tree, which righted itself and began to burrow its' roots back into the soil. Shudderspeed raised an eyebrow. "You aren't taking it?"
"I'm too weak, and so is the tree," Floribunda replied. "Too much electrical damage. It wouldn't survive the trip. Better to leave it."
Temper grinned down at the pink haired girl. "Later, cutie-pie," he said, squatting down next to her. "I just want you to know that tonight was really special."
"Temper!" Floribunda hissed. "Leave her be and let's go!"
Temper stood, still grinning. "You got it, boss." He stepped into one of Shudderspeed's waiting arms. "But I don't want you to feel neglected, Elaine. You know I enjoy our little trips together, too."
Shudderspeed sighed. "Whatever, Bennie."
As Floribunda stepped up, a door opened in the brick building. A silouette appeared, and started to cross the quad. Shudderspeed wrapped her other arm around her friend.
"Hold on," Shudderspeed said quietly. And they were gone.
Like Floribunda, the two observers were students of the Bloodvine Academy. The boy with the cruel smile was Bennie Lane, known to the majority of the Academy as Temper. His companion across the courtyard was Elaine Mummery, also known as Shudderspeed. She nodded towards him, signifying that she was unharmed, and Temper nodded back in agreement.
Floribunda hadn't been so lucky. She had been knocked off her feet again, and struggled to stand. Steam rose from her scorched blazer, and the vines about her arms hung limp, lifeless. She staggered again, and started to collapse. With a flash of light and a strange tearing sound, Shudderspeed was instantly beside her, breaking her fall. Temper stepped forward, glancing around nervously. Certainly that commotion was going to be overheard.
"We need to jet," he said, striding quickly across the quad. "Sooner rather than later, too. You okay, Rosie?"
Floribunda nodded with a slight groan. "I'll live." She looked down at the body of the pink-haired girl. Her clothes were shredded down most of the front of her, exposing her pale skin to the moonlight. Thin rivulets of blood flowed from the dozens of small cuts crisscrossing her face, breasts, and abdomen. It took a moment, but then her chest heaved with a ragged, painful breath. Floribunda smiled weakly. "So will she, luckily."
Temper's eyes narrowed as her looked down at the pink-haired girl. "Good thing, too," he said mockingly. "She's fun to play with."
Floribunda didn't seem to catch his meaning, but Shudderspeed certainly did. Her eyes widened. "You did that?"
"Did what?" Floribunda asked, still finding her feet. Then it must have dawned on her. She glanced sideways at Temper. "God, you're a piece of work. No wonder she became so violent."
Temper laughed. "She was already angry, Rosie. I just helped her out a little. It's not good to bottle up one's feelings, you know." Temper loved his powers, and he loved using them. He was a semi-empath and telempath, but his particular talents focused on the negative emotions: greed, anger, lust. He could take them from a person, sculpt them to the shapes of his liking, and force them back upon their makers. Though the results of his efforts were sometimes unpredictable, he was unquestioningly the master of every situation where emotions flared out of control.
Flroibunda chuckled, but it caught in her throat and she coughed. "And what if she had really hurt me? What then?"
"Aah, you're always looking at the downside. Look at the freakin' upside once in a while! Did she even notice the tree was coming for her? No, and I'll tell you why: because her anger clouded her judgment." Temper spread his hands wide, grinning. "So, taa-daa."
"Even so," Shudderspeed began.
Temper cut her off. "Whatever, Elaine. Don't be such a mother-hen all the time."
Now that Floribunda was on her feet again, Shudderspeed stepped closer. "Take that back, Bennie."
Temper felt her flash of anger like heat on his face. What a wonderful feeling, anger. So primal, so pure. He resisted the deep urge to manipulate her, to draw forth rage from irritation. "Done," he said, and shook his head as if to clear it from the euphoria her feelings had produced within him. "I take it back."
Lights started to come on in the large brick buildings to one end of the quad. Shudderspeed turned around so quickly that she displaced the air around her with a soft pop. "Time to go," she said, a tone of fear in her voice.
Floribunda nodded, and turned her attention back to the tree, which righted itself and began to burrow its' roots back into the soil. Shudderspeed raised an eyebrow. "You aren't taking it?"
"I'm too weak, and so is the tree," Floribunda replied. "Too much electrical damage. It wouldn't survive the trip. Better to leave it."
Temper grinned down at the pink haired girl. "Later, cutie-pie," he said, squatting down next to her. "I just want you to know that tonight was really special."
"Temper!" Floribunda hissed. "Leave her be and let's go!"
Temper stood, still grinning. "You got it, boss." He stepped into one of Shudderspeed's waiting arms. "But I don't want you to feel neglected, Elaine. You know I enjoy our little trips together, too."
Shudderspeed sighed. "Whatever, Bennie."
As Floribunda stepped up, a door opened in the brick building. A silouette appeared, and started to cross the quad. Shudderspeed wrapped her other arm around her friend.
"Hold on," Shudderspeed said quietly. And they were gone.
The youth of today must sieze tomorrow.
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
The chapel was dark and silent but for the quick, shallow, breaths of the girl hunched on the floor. The red chalk circle was now nothing more than a few wisps of dust splayed across the cold stones, and it had fared the best of all. The other components had all but vanished entirely. The books, still lying open, were tossed askew and a smell much like that of mown grass filled the small room.
Francis sat up slowly, as she did the battered yellow candles came haltingly back to light. They flickered in agitation and Francis rubbed her arms briskly against the cold.
“Man,” She breathed, “ that was intense.”
She glanced down at the mess on the chapel floor, wiped her brow with the back of her hand, and set about gathering the remains of the spell into her backpack. That’s when she first heard it, a soft scraping sound at first, almost like the scrabble of claws just beyond her hearing. The sound then became a deep churning grind and Francis could feel an icy chill climb unbidden up her spine.
“What the hell...” She trailed off, eyes darting from one tenebrous corner to the next. The candles once again began a frantic dance on their tired and drooping wicks.
A small trickle of dust tickled her nose as it fell from the ceiling. Francis snorted and brushed it from her hair as she looked up.
Vines!! Everywhere there were vines!!
The dark, green, tentacles curled out from between the stones and popped though wherever there was the smallest crack in the chapel walls and ceiling. Even now the vines grew and twisted with unnatural speed around the smiling face and blank eyes of St. Joe.
Francis panicked. This was all wrong! She shook her head and quickly slung her backpack over her shoulders. ‘What the hell...what was I thinking!’ she mentally screamed at herself. ‘It’s not supposed to work like this!’
She stamped several undulating vines into green pulp as she made her way into the aisle. The vicious plants were already beginning to climb across the altar and onto the pews. Several of the thorned vines whipped at her ankles as she passed.
“Dammit!” She snarled as a thorn cut into her leg. She turned and with a quick electrical charge the vine was retreating across the chapel floor and wrapping around a dangerously swaying candelabra. Francis bolted for the heavy chapel doors. As she reached them she knocked the pew barring the door out of her way and threw the doors open as hard as she could.
All fell silent.
Francis stood frozen at the doorway facing the halls of St. Joe’s School. Her breath came in fast panting gusts and the cold draft chilled her to the core. Slowly, she turned her head and peered over her shoulder into the chapel ambulatory. The little church was quiet and serene with soft, steady candle glow lighting the surroundings. It all would have seemed normal if not for the fact that the entire room was covered in blooming vines like a garden trellis gone untended. They started at the altar and winded down through the pews, across the floor, up the walls, and kept a vigilant strangle-hold on St. Joseph himself.
Francis turned back around and stepped quietly into the hall and pulled the chapel doors shut. If only she could remember where Scruffy kept the industrial strength weed-killer for times like this, but he hadn’t been seen in weeks. Once the doors safely clicked closed Francis grabbed one of the ‘Closed for Cleaning’ signs from the bathroom down the hall and raced back to the chapel. She stood thoughtfully a moment.
“What am I gonna do about this!” She growled. “Moltar’s gonna kill me.”
She smiled, there was one chance. She left the chapel doors confident that no new sounds had begun behind the wooden barriers and headed for the library. Of all the nuns and priests and teachers in this school, there was one whom Francis was sure she could convince to help.....Sister Salvation.
Francis sat up slowly, as she did the battered yellow candles came haltingly back to light. They flickered in agitation and Francis rubbed her arms briskly against the cold.
“Man,” She breathed, “ that was intense.”
She glanced down at the mess on the chapel floor, wiped her brow with the back of her hand, and set about gathering the remains of the spell into her backpack. That’s when she first heard it, a soft scraping sound at first, almost like the scrabble of claws just beyond her hearing. The sound then became a deep churning grind and Francis could feel an icy chill climb unbidden up her spine.
“What the hell...” She trailed off, eyes darting from one tenebrous corner to the next. The candles once again began a frantic dance on their tired and drooping wicks.
A small trickle of dust tickled her nose as it fell from the ceiling. Francis snorted and brushed it from her hair as she looked up.
Vines!! Everywhere there were vines!!
The dark, green, tentacles curled out from between the stones and popped though wherever there was the smallest crack in the chapel walls and ceiling. Even now the vines grew and twisted with unnatural speed around the smiling face and blank eyes of St. Joe.
Francis panicked. This was all wrong! She shook her head and quickly slung her backpack over her shoulders. ‘What the hell...what was I thinking!’ she mentally screamed at herself. ‘It’s not supposed to work like this!’
She stamped several undulating vines into green pulp as she made her way into the aisle. The vicious plants were already beginning to climb across the altar and onto the pews. Several of the thorned vines whipped at her ankles as she passed.
“Dammit!” She snarled as a thorn cut into her leg. She turned and with a quick electrical charge the vine was retreating across the chapel floor and wrapping around a dangerously swaying candelabra. Francis bolted for the heavy chapel doors. As she reached them she knocked the pew barring the door out of her way and threw the doors open as hard as she could.
All fell silent.
Francis stood frozen at the doorway facing the halls of St. Joe’s School. Her breath came in fast panting gusts and the cold draft chilled her to the core. Slowly, she turned her head and peered over her shoulder into the chapel ambulatory. The little church was quiet and serene with soft, steady candle glow lighting the surroundings. It all would have seemed normal if not for the fact that the entire room was covered in blooming vines like a garden trellis gone untended. They started at the altar and winded down through the pews, across the floor, up the walls, and kept a vigilant strangle-hold on St. Joseph himself.
Francis turned back around and stepped quietly into the hall and pulled the chapel doors shut. If only she could remember where Scruffy kept the industrial strength weed-killer for times like this, but he hadn’t been seen in weeks. Once the doors safely clicked closed Francis grabbed one of the ‘Closed for Cleaning’ signs from the bathroom down the hall and raced back to the chapel. She stood thoughtfully a moment.
“What am I gonna do about this!” She growled. “Moltar’s gonna kill me.”
She smiled, there was one chance. She left the chapel doors confident that no new sounds had begun behind the wooden barriers and headed for the library. Of all the nuns and priests and teachers in this school, there was one whom Francis was sure she could convince to help.....Sister Salvation.
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
Less then 150 yards and already Francis was out of breath. She reached the library doors and nearly fell into them. Wincing at the noise she silently prayed Sister Salvation was still somewhere inside. Deep down she always had the nun figured for a night owl and tonight, she desperately needed to be right.
The doors flew open under frantic fingers and Francis, pink locks disheveled, barrelled into the quiet stacks nearly losing her footing and tumbling into a nearby pile of poetry books.
"Sister!" She called a little too loud, "Salvation! Where the hell are you!!"
The doors flew open under frantic fingers and Francis, pink locks disheveled, barrelled into the quiet stacks nearly losing her footing and tumbling into a nearby pile of poetry books.
"Sister!" She called a little too loud, "Salvation! Where the hell are you!!"
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Sister Salvation
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2005 12:05 pm
Sister Salvation stood up quickly as she hurriedly straightened her habit and cleared her throat, snubbing a cigarette out on the low bookshelf nearby. Looking a bit nervously to the floor next to her, she stepped out from behind the bookcase wiping her mouth and clearing her throat.
"Christ!" she muttered angrily as she walked up to Francis. "No one swears in this library except me." Behind her a shirtless man scurried out the back door of the library and Salvation cleared her throat again, hoping to keep Francis's attention on her.
"What on earth is so important that you come running in here like you've had your head cut off and you can't find it?" She tucked a strand of bleached blonde hair back into the hood of her habit before putting her hand to her hip and watching Francis curiously.
"This had better be good, too." She frowned, "I was busy... um, alphabetizing."
"Christ!" she muttered angrily as she walked up to Francis. "No one swears in this library except me." Behind her a shirtless man scurried out the back door of the library and Salvation cleared her throat again, hoping to keep Francis's attention on her.
"What on earth is so important that you come running in here like you've had your head cut off and you can't find it?" She tucked a strand of bleached blonde hair back into the hood of her habit before putting her hand to her hip and watching Francis curiously.
"This had better be good, too." She frowned, "I was busy... um, alphabetizing."
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
Francis did her best to take a deep breath, leaning on a heavy bookshelf for support.
"Yeah, alphabetizing...sure..*gasp*...anyway..*gasp*..I need your help!"
Francis straightened up and looked over the irritated nun from head to toe.
"I, uhhh...don't suppose St. Joe's ever needed an arboretum huh?...errr...sorry. Ummm.....I'm not sure how to explain this but....ok, here goes....*sheepish smile* I think the chapel got eaten by giant plants..."
"...and...uhhh...it's kinda my fault..."
"Yeah, alphabetizing...sure..*gasp*...anyway..*gasp*..I need your help!"
Francis straightened up and looked over the irritated nun from head to toe.
"I, uhhh...don't suppose St. Joe's ever needed an arboretum huh?...errr...sorry. Ummm.....I'm not sure how to explain this but....ok, here goes....*sheepish smile* I think the chapel got eaten by giant plants..."
"...and...uhhh...it's kinda my fault..."
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Sister Salvation
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2005 12:05 pm
Sister Salvation stared at her for a long time, trying to decide if this was all an elaborate prank but then decided that these kids weren't smart enough for such a thing.
Grabbing Fancis's shoulder she turned her to face the door giving her a little shove in that direction. "Walk and talk."
Francis told of all that had happened and the vines that were over-taking the chapel. Salvation rolled her eyes a few times and reminded herself to ask for a drug test for this one. She paused at the "Closed For Cleaning" sign and looked unhappily at Francis.
"If this is a joke, you're ass is mine from here to Kingdom Come," she frowned and pushed open the doors.
It took her a moment or two to form a reaction. She wasn't prepared for the utter foliage take-over that had happened. "Jeezus H Christ..." she whispered, taking off her aviator glasses to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Close the door." She said evenly, quietly.
Once Francis was inside she turned slowly to look at her. "You have made quite the mess in here..." she 'tsked' under her breath. "What the hell are you going to do about it?" She lifted a thin eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting, fighting the urge to grin at the predicament, but more wanting to see one of these students squirm under the pressure. Too bad Francis didn't seem like the squirming type.
Grabbing Fancis's shoulder she turned her to face the door giving her a little shove in that direction. "Walk and talk."
Francis told of all that had happened and the vines that were over-taking the chapel. Salvation rolled her eyes a few times and reminded herself to ask for a drug test for this one. She paused at the "Closed For Cleaning" sign and looked unhappily at Francis.
"If this is a joke, you're ass is mine from here to Kingdom Come," she frowned and pushed open the doors.
It took her a moment or two to form a reaction. She wasn't prepared for the utter foliage take-over that had happened. "Jeezus H Christ..." she whispered, taking off her aviator glasses to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Close the door." She said evenly, quietly.
Once Francis was inside she turned slowly to look at her. "You have made quite the mess in here..." she 'tsked' under her breath. "What the hell are you going to do about it?" She lifted a thin eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting, fighting the urge to grin at the predicament, but more wanting to see one of these students squirm under the pressure. Too bad Francis didn't seem like the squirming type.
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
"Well," Francis took a sharp breath, "What I wouldn't give for a weedwhacker and a bottle of Round-Up right about now....aside from that I don't suppose you've got a machete hidden on that habit too?"
The snide humor died in the air with a dark look from Sister Salvation. If looks could kill, as the cliche goes, Francis would have been a grease stain on the flagstones.
Francis scratched the back of her head impatiently. "Humph, Dammit Sister! It wasn't supposed to do this. I did everything right, all the components were perfect! That Geas Charm was combined with the best Ledgerdemain and the whole thing should have been fool-proof...it wasn't supposed to be like this!"
Francis fumed for a brief moment. "What am I gonna do now?! It's not like I can just grab a vegetable knife and whip myself up a salad! That's why I got you. I mean, let's face it...if anyone in this school knows how to hide something and get away with it, it's you..."
With that, she folded her arms and turned toward a large, yellow vine nearly bisecting the altar and reaching up ominously for Joseph's face.
"So whadya say Sister...got any good hiding places?"
The snide humor died in the air with a dark look from Sister Salvation. If looks could kill, as the cliche goes, Francis would have been a grease stain on the flagstones.
Francis scratched the back of her head impatiently. "Humph, Dammit Sister! It wasn't supposed to do this. I did everything right, all the components were perfect! That Geas Charm was combined with the best Ledgerdemain and the whole thing should have been fool-proof...it wasn't supposed to be like this!"
Francis fumed for a brief moment. "What am I gonna do now?! It's not like I can just grab a vegetable knife and whip myself up a salad! That's why I got you. I mean, let's face it...if anyone in this school knows how to hide something and get away with it, it's you..."
With that, she folded her arms and turned toward a large, yellow vine nearly bisecting the altar and reaching up ominously for Joseph's face.
"So whadya say Sister...got any good hiding places?"
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Floribunda
- Heir Apparent
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Sun Dec 18, 2005 4:19 am
Bells, Books and Candles... (continued)
Note: I am cross-posting this on the SJS and BVA forums. From this point onward, the continuation of the story will be on the BVA forums only. The events as they transpire have little to do with Saint Joe's.
With a tearing, popping sound, Shudderspeed was back in her room. She stumbled when she took her first step, her head still swirling as she adjusted back to normalcy. Travelling vast distances through torn-time was still dibilitating for her, and she rested her hand upon her desk to steady herself. After a moment, her head cleared, and she became fully aware of the darkened room around her.
Her arm ached terribly, and she recalled that she still had a bullet in her shoulder. The sudden recollection made her queasy. She hated the violence of her life. It was unavoidable, and she knew it: the mundane world would always do violence to the extraordinary. But it didn't make her feel any better about the burns and knifewounds and venomous bites she constantly seemed to have. And though she had tried-- really tried-- she still had trouble returning the violence in kind without guilt or remorse. But it came with the mask; it was the difference between Shudderspeed and Elaine Mummery, a difference that she often fell back upon to sleep at night.
She tenderly put her fingers to the hole in her shoulder and shivered with pain. She took a deep breath and concentrated. Two hours ago, she thought, my shoulder was not hurt. She closed her eyes. Two hours ago. Waves, like heat, disrupted the air around her shoulder. Two hours ago. A moment of disorientation came over her, and when it cleared, her shoulder wasn't hurt. In fact, it had never been hurt at all. Nor would it ever be hurt, because the future was not set. It could be changed. It was confusing, even to Elaine, but it worked. Her shoulder would forever be a little younger than the rest of her body. But then, so was her right hand, her left thigh, and a dozen other spots around her body.
Such was the conundrum of temporal control. She had learned a long time ago to not think so much about it.
It had been a busy night. First, the botched expedition onto the Saint Joseph School campus, the fight between Celia and the pink-haired girl. They had left in stalemate, retreating to the Academy to chat and laugh at their reversal of fortune. Temper had been particularly unapologetic about his role in the debacle, and Celia had gone to bed in a huff. Elaine and Bennie had finished a late-night snack in the kitchen, then gone their seperate ways. Bennie was off to explore the new Pocket D's, and Elaine had some unfinished business in Port Oakes.
The Longbow agents never saw her coming. Aside from the stray shot she had taken to the shoulder, the raid had gone off without a hitch. She had already passed the documents off to her contact, and now, scarcely three hours later, she was safe back at the Academy.
Elaine slipped out of her uniform and pulled her pajamas from the top drawer of her dresser. As she tied the drawstring of her flannel bottoms, she heard the thump against the wall. She paused a moment, looking at the wall that seperated her room from Celia's. Had she fallen? A second thump. And then a third. Elaine's eyes grew wide as she buttoned up the pajama top. The impossible seemed to grow more likely with each passing moment, as the thumping on the wall continued.
"My lord," she said quietly. "Celia's having sex?"
It was beyond inconcevable; firstly, and most importantly, it was against school rules. And Celia was not a rule-breaker, certainly not when Lady Bloodvine's rules were the ones being broken. And secondly, Celia was having sex?
It wasn't as though Celia was ugly. But she was a little plain, to be sure. She had a face that threatened to become really beautiful one day, when she was a little less awkward, when she filled out and gained more control over her own chimeric body. But at the present time, she was... well, not exactly sexy. And her relationship with Bobby Monroe didn't seem like is was trending towards the act. Celia seemed barely able to stand him touching her at all.
And yet the thumping continued. And accompanying them, low moans.
Elaine was bewildered about how to proceed. She wanted to look the other way, to let Celia have her fun, whomever it was with. But at the same time, Lady Bloodvine was pretty clear about stuff like this. She would ask Elaine if she had heard anything, and Elaine was utterly unable to lie to Celia's mother. And so she would get punished just as surely as Celia would. No, better to suffer the temporary resentment of her friend than the lingering anger of her headmistress.
And so Elaine stepped out into the hall, only to find that three of the other girls were poking their noses from their rooms. The prospect of Lady Bloodvine's wrath had drawn them out of hiding as well. They exchanged nervous glances, but none of them spoke. They seemed as conflicted about the situation as Elaine. Becca caught Elaine's eye, and mouthed the words "who is it?" Elaine shook her head and shrugged. Becca bit her lip.
After a moment, Elaine held her breath and ruched to Celia's door. She moved quickly, as if to deter herself from changing her mind. She knocked on the door, but the noises continued. Elaine looked back over her shoulder to Becca, hoping for support. "Do it," Becca mouthed.
So Elaine pounded this time. "Celia!" she hissed. "Are you nuts? Whoever you have in there has got to go, now!" The noises continued unabated. And then, suddenly, something hit the door so hard that Elaine heard the hinges creak.
And everything changed in Elaine's mind. Celia isn't having sex, she thought, panic rising. She's being raped.
Elaine stretched out her hands and held them flat against the door. She concentrated and felt the spacetime warp around her, and the door gave way, bursting from its' hinges. The smell of new-mown grass and deep, rich earth washed out of the room. And beyond, a nightmare of twisting thorns and pulsating growth.
The room had been consumed by vines and moss. They snaked and throbbed and were full of malice, wrapping around the dresser, the desk, the bed. With their rampant growth, they shook the room banged the bed against the wall. And in the center of the twisting, alien jungle, Celia was held suspended above the floor, like a fly in a spider's web. Her nightshirt was torn, and rivulets of blood dripped down her arms and legs from the thorny vines that constricted her. Celia did not seem enitrely conscious, but she was clearly in pain: her ragged breaths were punctuated with the low moans that Elaine had somehow mistaken for pleasure.
And behind Celia, towering over her, was a monster born of the earth itself. The roots and vines and moss all came from him, impossibly spilling out of his body in all directions. If it weren't for the eyes, Elaine might have mistake the creature for Dominic. But no human emotion dwelled in this creature's cracked, stony face. The creature's head twisted towards the door and met Elaine's eyes. And yet it was Celia who spoke. Her voice was filled with pain and soil.
"Get out."
Elaine felt everything slow down. She heard Becca scream behind her in the hallway, but it was distant. Celia twisted again in pain, and her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Get out or I will make you suffer."
Elaine Mummery closed her eyes. Shudderspeed opened them. And then she was moving into the room.
With a tearing, popping sound, Shudderspeed was back in her room. She stumbled when she took her first step, her head still swirling as she adjusted back to normalcy. Travelling vast distances through torn-time was still dibilitating for her, and she rested her hand upon her desk to steady herself. After a moment, her head cleared, and she became fully aware of the darkened room around her.
Her arm ached terribly, and she recalled that she still had a bullet in her shoulder. The sudden recollection made her queasy. She hated the violence of her life. It was unavoidable, and she knew it: the mundane world would always do violence to the extraordinary. But it didn't make her feel any better about the burns and knifewounds and venomous bites she constantly seemed to have. And though she had tried-- really tried-- she still had trouble returning the violence in kind without guilt or remorse. But it came with the mask; it was the difference between Shudderspeed and Elaine Mummery, a difference that she often fell back upon to sleep at night.
She tenderly put her fingers to the hole in her shoulder and shivered with pain. She took a deep breath and concentrated. Two hours ago, she thought, my shoulder was not hurt. She closed her eyes. Two hours ago. Waves, like heat, disrupted the air around her shoulder. Two hours ago. A moment of disorientation came over her, and when it cleared, her shoulder wasn't hurt. In fact, it had never been hurt at all. Nor would it ever be hurt, because the future was not set. It could be changed. It was confusing, even to Elaine, but it worked. Her shoulder would forever be a little younger than the rest of her body. But then, so was her right hand, her left thigh, and a dozen other spots around her body.
Such was the conundrum of temporal control. She had learned a long time ago to not think so much about it.
It had been a busy night. First, the botched expedition onto the Saint Joseph School campus, the fight between Celia and the pink-haired girl. They had left in stalemate, retreating to the Academy to chat and laugh at their reversal of fortune. Temper had been particularly unapologetic about his role in the debacle, and Celia had gone to bed in a huff. Elaine and Bennie had finished a late-night snack in the kitchen, then gone their seperate ways. Bennie was off to explore the new Pocket D's, and Elaine had some unfinished business in Port Oakes.
The Longbow agents never saw her coming. Aside from the stray shot she had taken to the shoulder, the raid had gone off without a hitch. She had already passed the documents off to her contact, and now, scarcely three hours later, she was safe back at the Academy.
Elaine slipped out of her uniform and pulled her pajamas from the top drawer of her dresser. As she tied the drawstring of her flannel bottoms, she heard the thump against the wall. She paused a moment, looking at the wall that seperated her room from Celia's. Had she fallen? A second thump. And then a third. Elaine's eyes grew wide as she buttoned up the pajama top. The impossible seemed to grow more likely with each passing moment, as the thumping on the wall continued.
"My lord," she said quietly. "Celia's having sex?"
It was beyond inconcevable; firstly, and most importantly, it was against school rules. And Celia was not a rule-breaker, certainly not when Lady Bloodvine's rules were the ones being broken. And secondly, Celia was having sex?
It wasn't as though Celia was ugly. But she was a little plain, to be sure. She had a face that threatened to become really beautiful one day, when she was a little less awkward, when she filled out and gained more control over her own chimeric body. But at the present time, she was... well, not exactly sexy. And her relationship with Bobby Monroe didn't seem like is was trending towards the act. Celia seemed barely able to stand him touching her at all.
And yet the thumping continued. And accompanying them, low moans.
Elaine was bewildered about how to proceed. She wanted to look the other way, to let Celia have her fun, whomever it was with. But at the same time, Lady Bloodvine was pretty clear about stuff like this. She would ask Elaine if she had heard anything, and Elaine was utterly unable to lie to Celia's mother. And so she would get punished just as surely as Celia would. No, better to suffer the temporary resentment of her friend than the lingering anger of her headmistress.
And so Elaine stepped out into the hall, only to find that three of the other girls were poking their noses from their rooms. The prospect of Lady Bloodvine's wrath had drawn them out of hiding as well. They exchanged nervous glances, but none of them spoke. They seemed as conflicted about the situation as Elaine. Becca caught Elaine's eye, and mouthed the words "who is it?" Elaine shook her head and shrugged. Becca bit her lip.
After a moment, Elaine held her breath and ruched to Celia's door. She moved quickly, as if to deter herself from changing her mind. She knocked on the door, but the noises continued. Elaine looked back over her shoulder to Becca, hoping for support. "Do it," Becca mouthed.
So Elaine pounded this time. "Celia!" she hissed. "Are you nuts? Whoever you have in there has got to go, now!" The noises continued unabated. And then, suddenly, something hit the door so hard that Elaine heard the hinges creak.
And everything changed in Elaine's mind. Celia isn't having sex, she thought, panic rising. She's being raped.
Elaine stretched out her hands and held them flat against the door. She concentrated and felt the spacetime warp around her, and the door gave way, bursting from its' hinges. The smell of new-mown grass and deep, rich earth washed out of the room. And beyond, a nightmare of twisting thorns and pulsating growth.
The room had been consumed by vines and moss. They snaked and throbbed and were full of malice, wrapping around the dresser, the desk, the bed. With their rampant growth, they shook the room banged the bed against the wall. And in the center of the twisting, alien jungle, Celia was held suspended above the floor, like a fly in a spider's web. Her nightshirt was torn, and rivulets of blood dripped down her arms and legs from the thorny vines that constricted her. Celia did not seem enitrely conscious, but she was clearly in pain: her ragged breaths were punctuated with the low moans that Elaine had somehow mistaken for pleasure.
And behind Celia, towering over her, was a monster born of the earth itself. The roots and vines and moss all came from him, impossibly spilling out of his body in all directions. If it weren't for the eyes, Elaine might have mistake the creature for Dominic. But no human emotion dwelled in this creature's cracked, stony face. The creature's head twisted towards the door and met Elaine's eyes. And yet it was Celia who spoke. Her voice was filled with pain and soil.
"Get out."
Elaine felt everything slow down. She heard Becca scream behind her in the hallway, but it was distant. Celia twisted again in pain, and her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Get out or I will make you suffer."
Elaine Mummery closed her eyes. Shudderspeed opened them. And then she was moving into the room.
The youth of today must sieze tomorrow.
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Sister Salvation
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2005 12:05 pm
Sister Salvation paused a moment, looking carefully around the room.
"Well, first things first, lets see if we can make this less of a mess." She pulled a silver cigarette case out of her habit and pulled out a dark brown cigarette. Seeing the look from Francis she muttered a "shut up" with the cigarette carefully between her lips. She lit it with a small ball of flame in the middle of her palm and once the embers were glowing, she breathed into the ball of flame and made it grow.
***
Some time passed, Sister Salvation was out of cigarettes and the chapel smelled like a salad shooter had melted. Most of the small leaves and branches were singed and gone, but the problem of the huge, wet thick blistered and oozing trunks of vines remained.
Sister Salvation rubbed her knuckles across her cheek, smearing plant goo and soot under her aviator glasses.
"Ok Francis." She said, catching her breath. "Get to the kitchen, get the biggest knives you can find and hurry back here. We've got some more work to do."
"Well, first things first, lets see if we can make this less of a mess." She pulled a silver cigarette case out of her habit and pulled out a dark brown cigarette. Seeing the look from Francis she muttered a "shut up" with the cigarette carefully between her lips. She lit it with a small ball of flame in the middle of her palm and once the embers were glowing, she breathed into the ball of flame and made it grow.
***
Some time passed, Sister Salvation was out of cigarettes and the chapel smelled like a salad shooter had melted. Most of the small leaves and branches were singed and gone, but the problem of the huge, wet thick blistered and oozing trunks of vines remained.
Sister Salvation rubbed her knuckles across her cheek, smearing plant goo and soot under her aviator glasses.
"Ok Francis." She said, catching her breath. "Get to the kitchen, get the biggest knives you can find and hurry back here. We've got some more work to do."
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Sister Salvation
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2005 12:05 pm
Francis returned with a large cleaver and an electric carving knife, holding them up for approval. Together, Salvation with the cleaver and Francis with the carving knife, they hacked the thick vines into stumps.
Using her faculty keys, Salvation opened the doors to the science lab. Setting two stumps in the corner, she stuck a thermometer out of the side of it and made it look like some crazy experiment was underway. In the kitchen, they diced them and mixed it in with the greens for lunch salads. In the hallways they added thick winding fingers of greens to the potted plants, doing their best to make them all fit.
In the library they stacked the leaves high before pushing the book case of law books back into place, hiding most of the oozing green. The stood side by side in the library, sweat on their brows from the work. Salvation went to her desk and got a new pack of cigarettes out, tapping one out and lighting it easily. She drew a deep breath and saw Francis eyeing the smoke. She handed it to her and frowned as she looked up and saw the soft orange glow of sunrise.
"You'd better get back to your dorm," Salvation said. She sounded strange, almost sad? Not Salvation. The woman wasn't capable of such things. She was like a machine of well... things that didn't get sad. "Get some sleep, Francis." She walked away, moving to the stack of books that had to get put away and started busying herself with alphabetizing them.
Using her faculty keys, Salvation opened the doors to the science lab. Setting two stumps in the corner, she stuck a thermometer out of the side of it and made it look like some crazy experiment was underway. In the kitchen, they diced them and mixed it in with the greens for lunch salads. In the hallways they added thick winding fingers of greens to the potted plants, doing their best to make them all fit.
In the library they stacked the leaves high before pushing the book case of law books back into place, hiding most of the oozing green. The stood side by side in the library, sweat on their brows from the work. Salvation went to her desk and got a new pack of cigarettes out, tapping one out and lighting it easily. She drew a deep breath and saw Francis eyeing the smoke. She handed it to her and frowned as she looked up and saw the soft orange glow of sunrise.
"You'd better get back to your dorm," Salvation said. She sounded strange, almost sad? Not Salvation. The woman wasn't capable of such things. She was like a machine of well... things that didn't get sad. "Get some sleep, Francis." She walked away, moving to the stack of books that had to get put away and started busying herself with alphabetizing them.
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
Francis studied Sister Salvation from across the room. She was such a strange member of the eternally screwed-up family that was St. Joseph’s Academy. Franky had always figured her for the “bad nun”, you know, the one Sister that took holy orders because she had to and not because she would ever want to. She had always figured Salvation for a chain-smoking, come-hither-to, and possibly criminal showgirl-type who was standing behind a wimple as an alternative to bars, but if that was true…..why did she seem so sad? The salad greens idea had been brilliant and Francis almost couldn’t wait to see the rest of the school at lunch tomorrow, but something was weighing on her as Sister Salvation distracted herself among a pile of books. Sister Salvation had actually come to her aid like a…well, like a hero would. The chapel was even passable. The altar was still cracked and the pews looked like someone had lost an indoor shot-put match and the vines were now hidden throughout the school like some Freakshow had gone on a Scavenger Hunt and forgotten where all the pieces were but it didn’t change the fact that Francis had just had her butt saved…big time.
She glanced out the window at the sunrise and groaned. Her 7am Abnormal Linguistics class would be getting under way soon and it looked liked she’d be sleeping through it again….not that that was unusual or anything….
Francis sighed and stood up, mashing out the cigarette on the porcelain angel statue on Salvation’s desk that usually served as an impromptu ashtray.
“Thanks Sister,” she said. “Thanks...............I owe you one”
The only other sound in the room was the shuffle of books and the soft thud of the library door.
She glanced out the window at the sunrise and groaned. Her 7am Abnormal Linguistics class would be getting under way soon and it looked liked she’d be sleeping through it again….not that that was unusual or anything….
Francis sighed and stood up, mashing out the cigarette on the porcelain angel statue on Salvation’s desk that usually served as an impromptu ashtray.
“Thanks Sister,” she said. “Thanks...............I owe you one”
The only other sound in the room was the shuffle of books and the soft thud of the library door.