30 July 2009

Merlin 6 : Empire

Merlin 6: Empire

The dark and stormy, turbulent clouds purged massive falling ceilings of water, by a second peering sun, scantily peeking through the morose weather, to spy on the two travelers, but without success. The light did make it easier to see their way but could not burn through the sky. As the landscape began to illuminate, the sky oddly seemed to reverse its course, time seemingly began to turn aback, towards the morning, eventually lessening the rain to a humble mist, but not ending the persistent rain, or clearing the clouded sky completely.

To his right the distant hanging horizon lays a calm, uninterrupted land stretching into the storm clouds that were bright white at the shore, which seemed to collide with the monolithic mountain. Between him and the stoic mountains top, was a long serpentine trampled earth trail of grey clay, leading all the way to the height of the mountain. A large glowing city rest shining through the clouds like a fire in the heavens, surrealistically sitting like something from the paintings he had seen in the streets that the old vandals would draw in the summer months. Its picturesque poise of the glowing city like the sun above the towering clouds is a glowing light that resembled a burning match, overcast with smoke contaminating the fires outline.

The ground’s damp and black dark clay below their soaked feet is dry as the heart of a stone in an intricate archway over the lofty entrance to the guarded threshold. An intricate yet inconspicuous door, built inside of the arch, led to a room for guards to rest and keep possible sentry weapons. From a coy brief glance troy could see that it was a small armory holding an arsenal of perceivable sorts and several tall, armored men playing cards on a small waist high table near the door. As he turned his head while walking, one of the guards from behind the encompassing wall, peered out from behind the doorway causing Troy’s glance to be abruptly interrupted, and he continued into the city following Merlin, almost unwittingly.

Immediately entering the city walls, there are several barkers and vendors for every personal and private, useless and shoddily crafted wares and works of art, immensely lining the walls of the street. The city seemed to rise in its center, as if a hill were in its center, albeit carefully constructed at the shoreline. From its center, the luminous bright light still emanates buried beneath a plurality of homes and staggered walls of differing heights, from the center of the city as a narrow ray of light, drawing in the mist, and making the silent steam around it glow with a surreal and mesmerizing radiance.

Through the streets, the city is more fog than rain due to the light creating a warm mist as the water from the heavens would hit it and fall to the ground around the pillar of light.

As they walked, they were able to notice with closer detail that, each section was its own community, each with shops and other places of interest based by importance for each section. It is a modern city with shops constructed with great skill, designed to be part of the vastly condensed city structure, and not men selling trade goods outside in tents in the rain.

Looking up they can see that each business is the primary level of what is often three or more levels of homes or places of business, each having opening bay windows, and sometimes decks, that would let in the sun during the morning.

Merlin: “a bustling and charming web of commerce, my boy”

He had become oblivious among the splendorous scenery of the market.

Troy: "What? I do not know what they call it here.

Merlin: "and your thoughts?"

(Looking at the scene)

Troy: “it’s miraculous, who is the king? Is there any sweet shops? Or zoos and liveries?”

Merlin: “As oppose to an old man with a cane? The only city built in this way for many months distance, and you will see what you want when you want…after you see what you need. Keep your bird stuffed and keep up.”

Troy: “Why do they call it anathema, is it a pirate port?”

Merlin: “Anathema is who we have come to see. She owns a bakery well up the road…”

Troy: “would it be at the ocean?”

Merlin: “Well take in a meal, and get some supplies and literature on your bird”

Troy: “it’s dry at this sweets bakery, I surely hope it is, we could stand to sit and wrung ourselves”

Merlin: “undoubtedly it is a delightful place of shelter and vital information for the tired and hopelessly restless.”

Nearing the far side of the spanning city, our two drenched travelers can hear the tumultuous ocean, its cogent waves crashing against an endless blank sandy shoreline and the whistling wind blowing over the unloving sea into the cobblestone city. The air that passes is arid and chilled but no more than it had been in the fields, the mornings prior when they awoke to the morning sun or suns or even a dwindling campfire.

Troy’s hairs was unevenly trimmed and not long enough to rest in a channel behind his ears or tie above the back of his neck, and often fell into his sight much to his irritation, more so now that the precipitation had lightened. The upper lashing of his left boot had begun to fray, and by smell he could have been mistaken for a proper sow. ultimately, the two had a seemingly morose attitude towards the rainy weather, the length of their walk, and the lack of a comfortable sleeping situation.

Passing through the city streets quite far from the entrance, the path becomes vacant of citizen domiciles and the separate partitions become place for sectioned kennels and corrals of tagged, branded and harnessed livestock. Some were majestic versions of animals he could vaguely recognize and others, strangely magnificent creatures and combinations of that which he had never seen, bringing him much amazement. Packed into sections next to each other were similar animals, it seemed. Simple pack animals as he had seen in his home village. In other pens, there stood strangely tall, two legged lizards with intimidating fangs and the look of voracious appetites. Each with froglike faces and long necks as it stood as if it were a bird, as it began to talk with the other animals or could sense the pet he had in his burlap sack.

A young boy, covered in an armor of oceanic sea leaves woven to a suit of chainmail woven as one piece from head to foot, sat upon one as the animal would wrap its long neck around its rider, affectionately. When it unwraps the passenger, it proceeded to unveil and throw a large tacky tongue from its mouth to the ground, to pull up vegetation and rooted soil into a marring chew than purred as a cat would and moaned simultaneously, causing the rider to become irritated and dismount contemptibly.

As they pass through the path of the muddy animal stockyard, Troy looks on it to witness it eats soil, stone, large and small insects, with a mouth full of flat rear teeth and none in the front. The animal quaintly notices them pass by and looks up, only to look away again without a flicker of concern.

They passed a sliding door that opened as two doors, opening from the center of the gateway, which offered passage from the city to the sea. The opening briefly revealed a massive yet integral system of docks at the base of the livery, which seemed vacant and abandoned less a few small ferryboats and one longboat with an ornamented end post typical of a Viking ship. Eventually past the storm doorway, the shops begin again this time the buildings and shops were not sharing any walls with each other, with only one level each, connected wall to the exterior wall, with a slanted roof and gutters, which carried the water, back towards the outer wall. Fairly close to the kennels in the group of buildings was a shop with a sign over the door that reads, “Ana’s Bakery”. Merlin opens the door that strikes a bell hanging over the entrance and the two travelers walk inside of the bakery.

A woman’s voice calls out.

“Sit at the table by the fire and dry off. I won’t have you be the cause of my floor rotting out.”

Merlin: “I’ve found another one to feed the fire.”

The woman screams and comes rushing out to see Merlin with open arms. They connect and laugh/cry in approval.

Merlin: “Ana meet Troy, Troy this is my sister”

Ana: “is he one of yours?”

Merlin: “he is today. He’d like something to eat.”

Ana: “of course, you must be starving, warm yourselves”

They sit by the endearing fire, leaving collected pools of water in the form of their feet wherever they had stepped. Merlin begins to ring with a rapturous aggression of an unruly launderer, the water out from his stowaway hat. At that point, Ana comes back with warm soup in wooden hand carved bowls and thick steaming bread of many wild grains on a large evenly cut board, and placed it on the dry end of the worktable of crude planks they had chosen as a place to sit.

Merlin: “Have the fools been here to let me see the king?"

Ana: “and who might that have been?”

Merlin: “he sits upon the throne today, they will eventually be here.”

Ana: “why don’t you just go and see him?”

Merlin: “haste favors no one... and I’d rather I have the chance to run.”

She walks to the door and cautiously looks out; Troy shows some concern about the people to whom they refer.

Merlin: “he’s here to learn a few things from you if that is still allowed?”

Ana: “he’ll have to do it soon, they’re here Merlin. Go into the kitchen and make yourself busy boy”

Troy did as told, and went behind the counter and into the far end of the kitchen grabbing the first knife he could find. He began to make himself seem busy cutting some vegetables slowly. Occasionally he would toss pieces into the cold soup on the kitchen stove, which stood unlit.

Ana walked away from the door, only to stand behind the counter where she opened a drawer and retrieved out a small red vial. Merlin sat at the table begging to eat the meal his sister had prepared for the young Troy. The guards come in one at a time, three altogether, sounding the bell with the door as they entered. Merlin, sitting at the table, rests the spoon into the soup bowl and begins his coin trick. Over the table, he uses his right hand to wave over the palm-sized coin next to a candle on the table.

Ana looks back to Troy briefly enough for Troy to walk towards her, but she fronts the palm of her hand to him, gesturing him to stay where he is. The last guard entered to state to Merlin his requested presence.

Guard#3: “Your presence is requested by the king lord Merlin”

Merlin: “requested or ordered?”

#3: “I have been sent as envoy of this message, but actually it might be both, I cannot be certain. The king has another errand for you”

Merlin: “your king asks this of me here and now…..In the middle of my supper?”

#3: “urgently the king requests you; we are to be your escort”

The leader of the three, better armored, skittishly leaned his weapon forward towards Merlin. From the back of the room, Troy could see that it was the same as the guards had at the entrance to the city. Merlin could see the glow from within the staff caused the water from the guards’ helmet and the rain from outside, which had worsened, was steaming from the light that coursed his weapon and his armor. The other two guards acted in similar manner.

With successive waves of his hand, as Merlin remains silent, the coin appears, a symbol appears, the symbol sinks into the coin, and the seemingly engraved symbol fills with black oil and then lastly vanishes. His demeanor is undirected and solemnly curt as the nervous guards wait for him to make some form of cordial eye contact.

He begins to draw the air from the room towards the palm of his hand, in a mystical fashion. Visible to even Troy from the rear of the kitchen as the flames on the candles seem to draw towards the now parched Merlin. The air pulls a visible current of the smoke from the candle on the table as well as the mist and steam from the lead soldier’s weapon, to the core of his hand. Merlin, still sitting primly as the flame of the candle goes out and the vacuum slows but still enters his hand, he closes his hand, palm down, almost into a fist. The smoke, from the smoldering candle, and less from the steam, continues through his fingers into his hand than suddenly in a morose silence, there was no more smoke for him to consume unto his sleeve.

Ana with arms now crossed sounds a less than audible sigh of disappointment, the two soldiers, by the door, inevitably are rattling and nervous, standing so ever vigilant, at a defensive position, more than they already were. He raises his hand and it begins to glow like molten rock. A blast, of light, he gives the room. With a gust of wind, he had set the first guard afire and immensely singed all of his clothing, which was to show beyond the armor. On the entire of his front, sending him flying through the door between the other guards, and into the raining muddy street, as well as having covered the other two in soot and ash from the first guard, knocking them down in the process.

Merlin looks over to his sister, who is vaguely upset and standing next to Troy, who has hurriedly come to a counter from the back of the eatery to catch a better look...

Merlin: “stay here and help her clean this disarray. I will return here most likely after an errand for the king.”

Merlin walks away, a dozen paces, turns about, and walks back into the doorway of Ana’s shop.

Merlin: “he’s a phoenix in that bag; help him rear it while I’m away.”

Ana: “should I do anything else for you today?”

Merlin: “no”

Merlin walks out again, breaking glass beneath his boots.

Ana, shouting out to her Brother,

Ana: “behave this time”

The old wizard, already outside, gave a wave of the back of his hand and keeps his pace.

Ana: “are we feeling a bit lost today son?"

Troy: “like looking for knives, in muddy waters"

Ana: “you get your bird and well clean the rest following that. I’ll return in a moment”

She then walked into the kitchen and brought back a handful of coal. The bird, who Troy had thought to be sleeping, through the commotion, had clamored inside of the bag, all the while, began to stretch and yawn, calmly now that the peace had returned, as the soldiers began to rise to their feet. As they did, they groaned from the pain of their impact with the floor and of the street as young men do in the morning, or as old ones do at night if you will.

Troy reaches into the bag for the waking bird who greeted him amorously, scaling his arm and amorously leaning against his head. Ana arrives at his side, takes a piece of the coal, and ushers it into the fowl’s beak. Somewhat reluctantly, it swallows the dark coal, and retreats to the arms of its master, causing Troy to fuss with the bird. Meanwhile, Ana had put the rest of the coal on the table.

Ana: “the coal should keep the bird occupied"

Troy: “what is to become of the fallen guards?"

Ana walks cautiously to the guard.

Ana: “Next time you won’t provoke him, or he’ll put you asunder.” She said, to the guard, in the doorway, who picks glass, from his hair and checks for injuries. She continued, “You’d think they’d learn from the stories.” to the boy and his bird. “If you can stand I’ll make you a meal”

The guard closes the door, which was now only a frame with a missing window and stammers away. The door the room the windows and Troy look amiss.

Ana: “You’ll need to see that it eats more of that in the winter, but only when it gets older, that will be enough for now.”

With that, Troy put the rest of the coal into the fireplace on the wall to his left.

Ana: “you shouldn’t waste the coal; I’ve put that fire into a burn on sand, with a spell, so that I don’t waste the coal unless the sailors are in here too long.

Troy: “sorry”

Ana: “that’s alright, I won’t tell. Put that bird in the fire. Then pull the door off the hinges and bring it to the table.

Troy: “don’t you think that it is broken enough?”

Ana: “off the hinges, it will lift, right, up, if the door is completely open”

Confused he put his bag on the ground and his nameless bird by the fire. He walked to the door opening it to find that, when opened, the door lifted easily up. He carried it through the doorway, knocking the bell, just outside over the entrance, once catching the attention of the bird as well as Ana. She knocks the candle from the table, recklessly, and holds her hands out to help him rest the door on the table. The bird, on the ground, while playing games by the fire had stubbed one of its talons while showing a display of dominance with its tail in the air, and was now attempting to intimidate it by spreading its wings and howling at it with a strange screeching, almost inconsistent, is having dual tones.

Ana: “can you see your bird wreak havoc with stones?

Troy: “I think I’ll call it phoenix as they call it”

Ana: “a name will come to you or it will help you decide”

She takes a step towards his new pet, startling it too quick for it to flee, and slightly kicks it into the fire.”

Ana: “you need to know that your bird will never be burned. It will live longer if you do.

Troy: “thank you but you could warn me the next time you do something like that”

Ana: “alright but I’ve something else to show you”

Troy, looking confused watched her walk over to the fire and grab a coal shovel with a long arm and lift the phoenix out of the fire. As it cooled, from a red glow, to a cooler condition, Ana takes a hand knife and pares a feather from its tail. The bird snapped its mouth shut and quickly turned its head to her, to give her a scowl. She throws the bird back into the fire, much to its surprise, and it lets out a short squawks to her, but almost immediately loses interest as it realized where it is, and continues its play a new, in the fire.

Ana: “don’t wrench your mind over it. You'll need it open to work with me”

She walks into far end of her kitchen. Troy looks to the bird that seems livid in the fire and then back to Ana who waves him to join her

Ana: “come here and we’ll make a door.”

Troy walks back to join her in her search, not knowing what he’s looking for, but rifling through drawers cautiously none the less. Ana pulls a steel mortar from a box by the back door, and then grabs a stone mallet from above a table in the center of the kitchen. Still roaming, singing a song she grabs a longbow leaned against the wall, and then Troy by his shoulder and pulls him to the front of the shop. She lets go of Troy and places all of her items on the table. Taking the hammer, she pounds the feather into a dust.

A bucket filled with table scraps sat on the floor in front of the counter. She takes the bucket and pours it out, in front of the fire, to which the bird leaps out and begins feasting. She walks to the back of the kitchen and into a room he cannot see, and comes back shortly, with a bucket of sand.

Watching confused Troy takes a seat as Ana pours the sand into the space inside the frame of the door. With a rag, taken from the tie string of her apron, she stands the bow on end, and brushes the broken feathers dust from the rag onto the bowstring. After setting the rag back into her pocket, she walks over to the fire, and lights the bowstring on fire with a scrap of a torn piece of paper from the ground.

The bowstring ignites, burning a blue glow. She points the other end of the bow to Troy and, holding both ends, they slowly walk the bowstring across the sand. As it passes across the surface, it turned the sand to glass and scorching the wooden frame. Taking the bow with both hands, Ana walks to the front of the fire, scaring Troy’s pet back into the flames. Pointing the string away from her, she kneeled in front of the fire and the phoenix inside. The bird chirping in an undistinguished pattern slowly began to quiet and timidly come out again. It looked to the flaming string and to Ana and then back to the string, and after a small settling of the birds wings, the flame on the bow ceased to burn. As the bird jumps back into the fire and begins to frolic, she rises up and leans the bow on the wall.

Ana: “now all we have to do is melt some wax around the glass and its good as new. You can grab the broom and brush out the mess; we will hang the door after he comes back.

Troy is confused but does as told and brushes most into the fire after she tells him to.

Troy: "the pot I mixed while Merlin blasted the guards is smoking!"

Ana: “we'll have to throw this out, you almost killed someone”

Troy: “I was acting as if I belonged back here; it’s only my first time on your world”

Ana: “come here and I’ll tell you something about cooking. If you are not from a world, do not cook unless someone shows you how and stick to what your bird eats. You’ll be better off that way"

Ana at this point had collected all of the smoldering mess into a pail, and walked back through the door with an ease of passage as if it were not there at all.

At that moment, a man and his pregnant wife came in stepping over the broken glass in an intricate confusion. Stepping over the glass outside and in, the young woman called to Ana as the husband tipped over a chair to knock the glass off it and helped the woman of maternity to a sitting rest. The young woman was relieved.

Terra: “if I would have known I would have sent him to clean this up.

(While entering from outside)

Ana: Terra is that you, my word, I forgot you were coming, this mess is Merlin's havoc and this is his friend Troy.

Troy: "hello"

Ana: "I had made a nice ocean root for you and your baby, but we had a misfortune during the commotion and now it has become frost bread."

Terra: "that's not a problem; we just came through to see what the mess was

Vin: "and if you were alright"

Ana: "I’m fine fool; you let her come here so you must need your sleep more than you’re letting on."

Terra: "where's Merlin?"

Ana: "he's gone to speak with Mars"

Terra: "who?"

Ana: "the white shadow...?"

Terra: "I forgot that you and Merlin know the world by its name"

Troy's bird in playful attitude had begun to attack, quite rambunctiously, the strap of his tattering boot. together they notice Troy and the phoenix bird in a quarrel over his bootstrap.

Vin: "is he family to you"

Ana: "maybe" (together) Troy: "no"

Ana: "it’s a short life, maybe, has he told you otherwise?"

Troy: "no, but I guess ill be asking, if the time permits."

A silence fell over the group and the pregnant Terra looks into the kitchen

Ana: "Vin, take Troy out to the shore and introduce him to Neptune."

Vin was tall and handsome, standing proudly towering over Troy. he wore a vest under a leather coat and had long pale hair just as Troy and Merlin did. His boots looked identical to the guards of the city; Troy noticed a small sword on his left side and a wand with a clear marble on it on the right of his waist on his belt, as Vin walked toward him. Troy stood with the timid bird, once squawking annoyingly, cowering in Troy's arms as Vin stood by, towering over the boy and his bird.

Vin: "What is its name?

Troy: "it doesn't have one, I wait for a sign"

Vin: "perfect leave it inside."

Troy: "why should I do that?

Vin: "because it's raining" (together) Terra: "because it’s raining"

Terra: "and you don’t want the bird to get stuck in the door."

Terra giggled as she and her husband stared at each other confusingly and mysteriously.

Vin: "right, let’s be off can we?
Troy: "OK just let me...." he went to set the bird down as Ana took it from him.

{inside} the two walked out and through the back door this time leaving it clear to see the rain outside. Ana threw the bird this time hurriedly and with some force towards the fire again.

Terra: "He had a bird"

Ana: "He had a bird?"

Terra: "An ice hawk but he broke it"

Ana: "let’s get you something to eat" and Ana walks into the kitchen.


(from inside)Terra: "you left the door open"

Troy stepped outside and noticed the smoldering food pot sitting on the ground. He began to look out to the sea as far as the clouds would let him, the rain was light but the clouds covered the coast like an impenetrable sound barrier that was catching and carrying the far off strikes of lightning into the shore. to the left was a dark and gloomy rain soaked green coastline with a short stack of mountains behind it, to the right was the icy outstretching coast that led into the wintry cold winds that seemed to be the source of the lightning. Occasionally below the clouds, lightning would pour out onto the mountainside and crawl below the mist, eventually dissipating or retreating into the clouded sky. To the right of the illuminant fog was a path that led at its finish almost directly upward, and much further was the river, now barely visible, much farther down the mountains spine. He turned around to confront a breeze that took him by a chilling surprise, beyond him was clear and vacant water, but because of its turbulent surface, he could not see farther than a few lengths of his arm, out into the mirroring, shimmering surface. While looking past the shore he had already missed what Vin had begun to do.

While Troy was wondering about the fish in the sea, the size of the world and what anyone of the strangers reply might have been, Vin had loaded the smoking food onto the platform of a small handcrafted catapult. As soon as Troy realized that he was cranking tension into the machine, Vin hit the catch and let the smoky bowl take flight out into the ocean. Much to his surprise, the bowl was not smoldering but causing a fog from an intense cold that made his stomach cringe. As it hit the water it caused a splash in the water that froze instantly as the contents reached the water, the ice spread into a small iceberg large enough for a bear to stand upon and not quite topple over.

Troy: "who lives on the mountain?"
Vin: "Your kind does."
Troy: "my kind?"
Vin: "yours and mine, they choose not to coexist with us, they built that city on the mountain"

Troy: "and the road up the mountain?"

Vin: "the dragons of feign"
Troy: "why they are not closer patrons of your town, are they not allies of the fisherman?"
Vin: they choose not to mix because their records of history are vastly aged................................and are ashamed of their failure as a functioning government, several times over which they blame on their acceptance of outsiders, to which they resolved by moving to the mountain."

Troy: "was that pot for Neptune?"
Vin: "yes, wait and see, but keep an eye out at the water"
Troy: "how big is this world?"
Vin: "how big is any world, how big is your world, fast and wicked."
Troy was a bit confused

At that very moment he noticed something swimming in the water, swimming into the air, directly toward Vin. with a dodging step Vin took a collapse to the ground, twisting in a clasp with the Aquarian man, slamming to the ground, dragging them both, in the sand, back from the shore. With one vaulting movement, the aquamarine man had taken control of the battle, having Vin pinned with a short blade to Vin's chest. The swimmer had interestingly enough, hair much like everyone else. Vin, as much as Troy, was out of immediate breath.

Neptune: "you're getting better Nordic, perhaps another go?"
Vin: "no, I still need to raise my child."
Neptune: "your crawler"
Vin: "anything new?"
Troy: "I'm swimming...I mean, I’m Troy...and I’m impressed."
Neptune: "he is?"
Vin: "I assume he is Merlin’s?"
Neptune: "It will be good to have supper and a reunion...Merlin!"
Vin: "he's not here"
Troy: "he'll be back in a day."

Neptune reached into his shadow colored vest, which was dry in appearance, and took out a pouch, climbing off Vin, he helped the downed giant to his feet, with the reach of his arm, and threw the bag to Troy simultaneously.

Neptune: "take those inside."

Vin: "please"

Troy walked back inside, scratching his head with his free hand. he could hear them mumble indistinctly.


The room, once in duress, was now clean, if not cleaner, than it was when he had arrived.

Terra: "could’ve made it look nicer with a bit of color?"
Troy: "he said to give you these."
(Ana takes pouch.)
Ana: "the fish has brought us, weather stones."
Terra: "excellent, you can go outside and tell the big fish to catch a small fish for a meal."
Ana: "and call him fish face" (loudly, audible to them as they stood outside)

Troy walked back outside into the brisk air which not only had cooled but became more dreary than it had all day, as Ana emptied the pouch of stones behind him as he walked outside.

Neptune: "tell him nothing"
Vin: "this is Troy. Troy this is Neptune, another friend of our Merlin. "
Neptune: "hello Troy, I am a friend of Merlin, it is my pleasure to meet you, please do not tell anyone I am here if you can help it.
Troy: "they need a fish to cook"

The evening had set in to the extent that if either of the suns had shown, it would have been verily close to sunsets. the suns did set between a distant stormy horizon after first rising shortly and then back again into the cobalt ocean.

Neptune leapt eagerly back into the water, and in a matter of moments he was back on shore with a fish the length of his arm, his dagger run through the side of the silver fish with one dark blue stripe that ran its length.

Troy: "whom can we tell nothing of?"
Vin: "don’t tell your friend that fishy here owes Merlin the money on a wager"

Neptune looked to Vin briefly, than threw the fish into Vin's face, which then turned around and carried it into the kitchen laughing. a younger version of Neptune swam to shore, exhausted grasping for air, breathing as Neptune did but with gills upon his neck flaring intensely, a sure sign of intense exertion. he wore an outfit identical to Neptune’s, a mere vest and shortened trousers, made from material that at first glance seemed like silk-like glazed leather. though he had swum to shore, he had not climbed out of the water, but was catching his breath on his knees at the shore filled with now steadily increasing crashing whitecaps. Vin had stepped out among the commotion smoking a (cig/pipe). The smaller version of Neptune was immensely exhausted, and stammered to catch its heavy loss of breath in front of the three of them.

Vin: "evening Jon?"
Troy: "who's that?"
Neptune: "my son, who must've spawned too many catches."

Jon: "I told you its morning crawler, get a watch"

Still breathing fast and pale in the face, he had his hands on his knees.

Neptune: "they've had rain all day, what is it Jon?"

Jon: "the red army is coming up from the southern cost, and the Icelanders have mobilized their defense. They will be to the dry fort in no time at all.

Vin: "what is a dry fort?"

Neptune: "they're coming to get you in your dry fort."

From the distance, Troy could notice where the cloudland sat on the sea and between him a luminous fog drifting toward the shore from the distance to his right, like a mist of stardust, no taller than the bow of any average-fishing vessel.

Vin: "get your bird. Ana! get outside, we have a problem...!”

Neptune: "good luck up here Troy...I hope we get to have that meal."

Jon: "and soon"

Troy: "what's happening"
Ana: "I don’t know, get your bird boy"
Troy: "what about Merlin"
Terra: "We should be away from here before he chooses a side"
Vin: "that’s true boy, lets be away, before the Mages come out.

Neptune: "I hope we meet again, but I have my own city to protect."
Troy: "what will your people do?"
Neptune: "we'll scavenge parts and feed on the dead, what will yours do.?"

Troy: "thank you"

Neptune: "you can trust them, go now."

Neptune put his hand on his sons back and pulled an oddly curved pistol from his pocket, and Jon does the same. One after another, they fired their weapons into the atrocious sky. the projectiles landed in the clouds and caused a vein of light to shock through the clouds like the workings of a growing tree in the middle of winter, illuminated as a white vine system to spread to a point and gently fade away, directly away from the shore from where they stood. before it faded, Neptune and his son Jon had holstered their weapons. His son dove, swiftly into the increasingly tumultuous water, instantly vanishing out of sight and sound. Troy nervous, realizes a fog that resembled the mountains light had crept down the mountainside, and from the opposite direction, a red fog approached the dockyard. Vin grabs Troy by his collar and drags him into the kitchen.

Terra looks outside to see chaos; the red armored soldiers had already entered the city at the main gates. The jubilee of their firefight with the city guards had begun to jump above the walls of the city.

Terra: "well need to firelight"

Ana: "everyone outside we're leaving in a hurry"

His bird had again fallen asleep in his satchel, and upon noticing Troy grabbed it up and went outside. Vin grabbed a bottle of some concoction from above the fireplace, walked to the door and carried his wife from under her arm outside. Ana was last out the door. standing together Troy's attention drifted to the city wall once more. the lights streamed like meteors over the wall, crashing into the cities hold, the light from the center of the city began to rumble. The conflict had begun to shake the rain from the sky.

Vin: "watch Ana, and keep your eyes closed"

Confused Merlin watched as Ana placed her fingers into the air one palm forward and the other behind her in a twisting motion the ground began to burn in a circle. As she continued, her twisting motion she rotated her posture to swing her hands in the opposite direction, as she did the circle of fire began to rise in a wall of flame that surrounded them. His bird flailing and shrieking, the entire land became bright, a piercing white light that made him cover his eyes, and the phoenix's detestation to quell into a silence.

When he could see again, they were in a green forest next to a lake at the side of a road. The weather was wonderful, the road was dry and well traveled and they all were steaming. Vin and Terra, sat together in the grass growing between the road and the pond, as the husband opened the bottle and took a drink. Terra snatched the bottle from him and took a drink after him. Ana however was naked and swimming avidly in the lake. Troy was steaming as he noticed his sleeves had singed as well as his hair, enough for him to notice as he ran his fingers over his scalp in nervous habit. All of the commotion was too much for the young Troy and he immediately fainted from a complete upright stance.

29 July 2009

neglect of respect and resolution

a risk-free education portal into the trying times of the liberal hate machine, and the fascist oppression of socialism in our modern political climate. i do not hate capitalism, i hate gambling and wish it was opposed as the 11th commandment so that one of these idolaters would remember.

"change" we can believe in, has come to people who already pay taxes. the president has blamed the past for a debt he adds to, and admittedly will not attempt to fix, awhile passing legislation he daren't explain without having read. never have i seen such subterfuge, it must be because he's half-breed.

anyway, bailouts from insider bureaucrats, the A.I.G. bailouts, belonged to W. and his oil tyrants, Katrina, i think was a catastrophe waiting for anyone to avoid, and because it was such a calamity in the cross hairs, it costs ever so much, than tarp, a reparations program for bad asset banks and irresponsible lenders as well as loan recipients, all having been made because of civil action groups who demanded self indignant entitlements with their hands out and their jaws hanging open, that would not desist until everything was 'equal', even if it meant breaking the proverbial camel's back, and most recently the "vote early, vote often" approach to campaigning that includes, a public payoff check that has left the public appeased as they wait for their next voter bribe, a so called one way ticket to the eye of the storm.

change we can believe in, but never see, was all administered by the federal reserve chairman and the federal reserve liaison to the white house, remember our serfdom lies waiting in the limbs of old hatreds and caste resentments, as we pay our taxes to the federal reserve and much less the treasury, as it in fact we should NOT be.

limiting greed would take a wise man, which so many over the legal age to run for office cannot do. never trust anyone old and fat who never smiles, and ask your self not only what is right for you, but how many thieves are left. perhaps i am cynical, but think of this. why in one hand, is it illegal to bribe a peace officer and judges, but at the same time, in the other, its legal to bribe the officials that make the law, so long as you're a lobbyist?

these incorrigible dissidents have resentment crawling through their essence, that is seeping from their genetic foundation. they are the over-caste oppression so many would assume of a war chief or a heretic. illogically they have been trying to add more people to their cause, not particularly knowing why, logically their compatriots at the other end of the spectrum, have been fighting for freedom since they were born, in and out of sleep, not knowing why, but letting the diminutive grasp of central government grow ever powerful and fatally intricately woven, both never seeming to be in the right place at the right time.

its not my mission to make things a better place, i just want my solar panels, my helical wind turbines my hydrogen gas generator/torch system, to run my car on water, purify the water better than the city can, heat my home, possibly illuminate my home, grow food, for a minute fraction of the exorbitant costs that this seductive society of convenience, have so seemingly forgotten, in place of slavery and sycophantic monotony.

our machines that benefit us need, parts, tools, maintenance, operation, and specific parts to be crafted, intricately as well as accurately, these should be the items we base our caste system on, not a spiteful opposition of who has these things or more so who arrived lastly. we need food to operate in our daily rigmarole, and we should be sharing it to aid and abide the progress of society as a whole, this is what we must build the foundation of judgment upon in a society that still uses money, the capital of criminals. expect great reaction from oppression because the slower prey will not go quietly and the faster are always watching you with your hasted family.

13 July 2009

pets of reform

(click images to view full size)

3 cats and 1 dog, ughh. There were more when i arrived, i couldn't banish them all but i tried to keep the best, i kept three so they could socialise and learn cat things and keep kat kompany.

I often wonder if mexicans like cats or do they simply eat them. i like cats. they fend off varmints and insects and often fatally pat spiders, if they feel like dirtying their paws.

one was a newborn that mom brought from a pub.
we'll start with that one.


She was small and it was just before the week where is was 50 below for 5 days.
she's an obvious mix of white and black i like to call grey. A long hair winter cat that probably was a steam alley cat. a concrete jungle grey, long hair and a common variety who often attacks the other cats when i bring them inside after they run off. she gives herself baths, and catspit is not clean, by the way.

once she caught a baby mole who had made it under the garage wall. needless to say its not with us anymore, she couldn't carry it casually. i wanted to call her daisy, but mom thought mouse was cute so i went with that, sometimes calling her daisy, mouse, mosa, missy and mitzi. she climbs trees when she gets out.

mouse in the window

i took these pictures when it was cold out because im a white boy
and highly mobile in the winter. i play outside while others run door to door.
i know to keep the door closed and the heat on.

very clean very fast. i didn't name him, the late step-pa did. very affectionate and sleepy. a russian blue, it and a royal northern white mixture. they grey once again to the benefit of northern concrete and slushy road camouflage, the under belly bright and clean white to not be seen by a loose winter rodent. the grey also helps him hide from the owls that cannot see the grey as well as other colors. when he goes outside he rolls in the dirt where the grass doesn't grow and rolls in it, so that stranger cats wont think he's well 'kept for'. mom calls him pugsy which he responds to as well as answering to pugsley, puh-puh, and puggy. his eyes are yellow and not the pseudo green that inbred cats can get in the deep north.


the late step-pa named this one as well. long hair, royal northern white and a red or orange of natural variety that i like to call iowa red. in the winter the rodents are defenseless against his blanc white coat. yellow eyes. in the summer the red tail and crown keep him from being seen by prey as he approaches and by wind hawk of the golden fields that are often of the appropriate height, during the warmer months. we live in the land of the lake woods so he's long teeth as for his heritage. when i open the door he doesn't want to go out side and get dirty. but he gave me a mouse once as a peace offering with its hips pulled straight up through its haunches, a precision kill for a feline.


yeah, 13, that's right, his name is fozzy because that's the only bear i knew when we got the dog when i was 14. since then the family (+dog) moved once, where he and i are now and i have moved from a remote and secret spy location, in Hoosier, to Detroit for 2-3 years, than silicon valley, California for 5-6 years and now a year of sober, relocation and improvement of my life condition with pets and plants. oh frak, the dog. i only call him fozzy, but his full name is fozzy the bear. he's half golden retriever and half brown chow. an all around beautiful family dog that in his younger years hated blacks and guarded me, like spirit animal or something. now i think he just cries all day dreaming about other dogs. NOAH'S LAW: ALWAYS HAVE TWO OR MORE. when on rare occasion he gets off, he always comes home with loads of little kids. he only barks when someones outside, but after that hes just a speed bump. and did i mention 13yrs and no grey hair. hes 100 lbs, and never did eat alot. sort of a nice dog. he cant eat the rawhide bones anymore, but he lets me know when he has to go outside, if he didn't i would have removed him long ago. i have to have cleanliness at all cost. remember kids, pure breeding is inbreeding.

when i got home from calif, there were 6 cats, i got rid of four. two were ferile tricolor cats that had made peace with the previous owners, they went first. third to go was a cat that weighed 25 lbs, i took him to the shelter because he needed that fate, some diet or competition with the other cats. besides house cats cant re-acclimate to the wild. and lastly, a 15lb pure pitch black longhair cat that had inbred green eyes, pissed on the good clothes, i.e.school, not the shit-work clothes, shed, pissed on the massage chair if my coat laid in it, and wouldn't let the other cats eat. black cats are bad luck, or im resentful of the color, but he had to go. mouse came in after that. when i got rid of the black cat, it must've known it was going, because it fought it every step of the way. all of the 4 cats when to a no-kill retirement, catland shelter, that was clean, nice, and didn't smell with a vet next door where i took mouse to get her shots.

when the black cat was at odds with me he gave me a 6 inch laceration/scratch/tear:

and that's it. no one else lives in my house, for the past year from the peak of american currency through the lasting fall. one day the market dropped 777pnts and i lost stock in humanity. ive been living here in moms house, where she just pops in time to time.

i'm writing a fiction novel called merlin and posting it here on my blog for free, because im bored and i want the world to have it. that and writing stories is easy, making them interesting is hard, making them boring is difficult.

chapter 6 is done, readers, i've just about put the p's and q's in it and tied it to the next dozen or so chapters, i just needed to sleep here and there between deciding who says what, and how to turn this transitory chapter into two or three chapters. the result was 3, and it meant this newest chapter would have an increased need for a title. the older one that i replaced it with was older than this one.

12 July 2009

An Ancillary Future

Action of humbling or degrading pathological indecisiveness when the art of making wood blocks in place of relief while provisional name for a plant whose flowers are unknown falls and dies.

Descriptive work on a system of or pertaining to work on the atmosphere of an inhabited world inhibits, causing inspiration for multiple acts of regression.

Stone that falls from the sky the meteorite was a thin crinkled semi-transparent piece of what seemed to resemble fabric of oriental silk, having a sheen and lucent zeal.

Like or pertaining to summer everlasting; endless eternal existence as a creature of root and stone give an attack to the colorless on sight or an assault to their belief system; an alarm or fright intense desire to be in open spaces formed as a democratic pyromania was supposedly ruled by a government by the children of the corn.

Bones make cement when formed with expansive magnesia.

A cauldron of boiling water used during trials by manner of a great ordeal to punish and no more than rebuke the wicked criminals in the water they could not swim in.

Art of printing from aluminum plates imaginary flowers the gods have reputed never to fade.
Immortal; undying deep purple-red colour like the amaranth rose in a garden of purple heart.

Reconnaissance gives us all, scientific description of the vine, the fossilized amphibian stretching far; having a great scope of the art of engraving to give the subject an embossed appearance, the catastrophe can only destroy the collective mind.

Nymphomania and flower fetishes have made a partial treatise on the winds, while silk-like fabric made from the strongest pack, wicked are utterly destroyed after death, continue the condition of lacking accepted social values or standards of, like or pertaining to a virus plague with opposition to government.

Anarchy before breakfast as a preface to war to prefer antithetical second worlds on the opposite side of the sun cause stagnation of the combined world, and its iron sun.

Antique losses of initial unaccented vowels from the beginning of misnomers are of a common solution.

Abnormal interest to bees and the praying mantis, one skilled in navigating arctic regions creates polarity. Government of the arctic regions of the earth by money that can be spent errant, by simple majority spins the silk fabric that becomes ecstatic.

Silk fabric to contain frantic, hasty reeds, is doctrine to that self-denial of the body the living permits spiritual enlightenment and foolish petty astrology.

The unit of distance equal to the distance from the earth to the sun makes melancholy even the simplest of sounds; fearing dangers they find a crude balance for weighing cheap coarse fabric of time, against compound words whose second part is a noun but that acts as an adjective.

One who supplies governments with wind for sails to ferry barbarians is the frozen air.

The judges of a locality, a recessional respite location among miners of area, are the measurement of particles equal to 100.

Fine silk cloth, coarse linen fabric, and some kind of tactile obsession will get flags of an unimpressive nature.

Potato sacks have an intrinsic obsession with sharp objects during the rule by beasts, under a benevolent ruling class on a world with excess masses.

Rule by beasts betwixt two winds lands a marketplace of historical proportions, a government by two people with no undertaker to write or speak of lets rain a sickness as windily seeds to be sown like smoke while turned away before a torrent of winter gales.

Like or pertaining to silk or cotton, thin fabric of rumbling noise , causes an ailment of the bears and the bulls to be ended by a hallucinogen found in certain tropical waters and fires.

Coarse cloth buzzards as a unit of volume bring the one who plays using a reed the word of caution into a language by literally escape allows a perpetual allude, creating infamy and lore.

05 July 2009

if but not where

the night is short at this time of the year,
vikings do it in the dark
that is the life kings do
you are addicted to your racism neurosis
religion is an aspect of judgmental disposition you drunken monkeys
Socialism is for everyone of the socialist pricks yeah
and then that means the world is full of trailer trash?
i can say they are already here and i am cubic
the number of vikings that give a fuck about the desert rats are none
die fascist until you regret I'm an American
die and do not push your hatred on me
i am gods friend as well as i am yours
die fascists die, until your spawn can accept all life
until you do i have the life rune
with arms in the air, a running life
i take breaths of winter rivers at night
and intend to war with sharks
i will sleep on the mountain that birthed your so called god
you can find me, i am the color of the silk you walk on
as you argue with idolaters about times long past
and the truths about characters
in a play that you've never seen
you've taken your law as ethnic privilege
above the law of the land you live
a land that puts opinions to silence as if they were felonious
i don't think the new amish would allow oppression
by those who exist out of necessity
clamoring for your place in a world like grasshoppers in the fall
begging army ants for socialism and communism
and problems that are appealing to hasty aggregation
i give up politics and take up religion
but i know that if you're not religious
you're simply and just political
and if you're not a friend, than you're family
but their parents raised them into their faith, into your faith
take your abuse and turn it on the ash fault
i am soul light of the house of memories
and i wish to bury the scholars
and bring down heaven for its support
the money is worthless, before its spent
and the masters hire labor for slavery
and not endured time for every red cent
i reject your reality, and substitute my own
it causes my one vision to have any fate
as i go to learn, what i cannot forget

01 July 2009

nine more than nine

in fire you serve
with the dead outside your window
you must never close your doors
join them in the market place of the beasts
the undertaker shall take the axe
two kingdoms become one as they conjoin
where are all the words
from this place toward better angles
and not speaking
to the demons in my mind
as i sit they wait and toil
fallen from heaven
gently rested on the field
with an unseen hand
to give amazement
games that become games
to the caretaker
a better judgment
made with better company
a loneliness
that will never leave my soul
lowliness of
false prophets and lenders
seek ye the light of the lord
in the halls of war
have it your reliefs and countenance
does the sky shake below the pounded ground
or does it cry as you tear the fertile earth
troglodytes tearing themselves
apart for food
symptomatic of
a fledgling bureaucracy
the vampires tear apart
the wolves and their long faces
to avoid the treachery
and insolence of the dogs
lantern jaw
will you work for free
one in ten they are of every problem
as the warrior walks in
the poet asks
why his face is so long
i've never laughed harder
is it to reach the forbidden fruit
all the better
it takes countless years
to appreciate the dead
and even longer
to convince them of the heat
is there a difference between
the poet and warrior
the latter has the question
to discern the separation
between sympathy and efficiency
they must have their uses
since i cannot count but one
i call them the old race
for they are dying
destruction and anarchy
the letters weep
should the fire be taken to heaven
for the laws to be written
the souls from hell are saved
as the fire cleans the air
and i sit writing to you
not knowing where you are
with another
tale not to long from now
could you ever be so pale
in attempting to be fair
cross with
corrosive games
of wizards and men
proof of the darkness
heavier than time
and complacency of loneliness

have gun, will travel

i'm starting to believe that the world is full of hix thriving on nonstop gossip and despotism. the media thrives on scandal and slander, if it, the outlet of information, were forced to report on truth and consequence what would it do, what would happen?

we become constantly blinded through throes of debates on who should provide for us, the providers or the protectors, when in reality, we should be asking to provide for ourselves and avoiding despicable and egregious charities as well as avoiding the welfare system, capitalism unfortunately leaves behind itself in a trail of users and abusers. In the medias outlet choice of who should provide healthcare, the employer or the state, or that is the state super structure the federal government, the people should have thier own healthcare. we buy our own house, car and life insurance and the companies that provide them offer what is called competitive prices.

the medical industry is more of a pharmaceutical industry from its inception into your childrens hearts, offering simple solutions which entail adverse reactions to experimental solutions. it offers a sedative of conscious common sense solutions instead of preventative measures, nourishment and nutrition, albeit stringing along our health painfully medicated and cost ineffective.

in the center of the problem lies a strange society as a whole. outcropping its resources as it commercialises and when supplies run out prices become extortion methods to our already economic situation of fear and remorse. An example of this per se, could be cutting all of the trees for commercial paper, charging an exorbitant amount of money for the last page, firing every worker between the first and the last to compensate for lost revenue, all while forgetting that no one would be here to write anything down because of a lack of oxygen.

our air, should be clean. our land should be beautiful, our skies should be blue, an increase in carbon dioxide would constitute a flourishment of flora on the globe throughout, such things we learn as early as primary school, yet an increase in carbon is turning out to be an increase in taxes instead of the lesser of the economic crippling effects.

and on to the president. no new taxes below 350, no 250, no 215 thousand a year and yet a cap and trade would tax every one available, a health care reform plan would tax the unborn, and the extreme amount of money being printed will make everyone millionaires, still unable to afford the simplest and just of things. and the idea of anyone who is unable to see the logic in ethical commitments to society, unable to appreciate an honest days work, and wants to complain, and unions i mostly blame you, can have their hands put out and the politicians will sprinkle magick fairy money in the palms of their hands. If you're not bored enough yet, he promised not to have lobbyists in his administration and has almost count them, 20, so called czars, officials in charge of our country's affairs, each from separate lobbying interests. all of this chalks him up to be a liar. not to worry i fell for it as well.

jobs are fewer and farther between. semesters are worth months of salary, student loans are often more than salary can afford, and schools are being shut down and/or deprived of funding.
business is cutting costs as employees are cutting limbs as taxes are rising in state and federal areas for both employer and employee as well as shipping costs across the world.

i can say that i'm ready for this but i thought the power was going to go off first. i always had that dream from the "left behind" book series where you wake up one morning and the world was gone. no power, no people, only their toys. they made a movie about it, the character gets to play the saxophone in the streets before finding the remaining 1% of the earths original population. and of the dead, thier bodies are there, and that's what makes it similar to today. everyone is here and no one is doing anything.