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sparkindarknessIntroducing Rebecca Crowley (do not laugh at her name. Trust me. She doesn't think it's funny.) A member of the Crowley family (I mean it) and one of Camaalis' vassal families.
Yes - same universe as sparkindarkness (Darren and Rick verse) but a different slice of it :)
I nervously shifted my notes again before making an effort to still my hands. I cursed under my breath at my fidgeting and cursed again at my curse – no matter how hard I tried I could never seem to get the hand of that icy dignified calm everyone else seemed to manage so easily. Mother always said it would come in time, but I think she says that about a lot of things.
I grimaced again, being distracted, that was another one of my problems. It always got me into trouble in university. My thoughts always seemed to wander no matter what I did. Again., mother said that that would get better in time. I tell you, there are so many things that will get better in time that I’m going to have to live to be 300 just to learn them all.
I looked down at the strange spool of wire connected to the crystal lying on the ground in front of me. There were some runes scattered about it and a strange chart actually carved into a block of wood with runes carved about its border. Apparently it was some kind of map. The power of the Wellspring beat around me gently, but I only faintly felt it, it wasn’t really my magic. It was like looking at a nuclear reactor – I could see it, feel it’s power but I really didn’t have any chance to understand it. The same with the stuff in front of me, I guess. The notes said that the type of crystal and the wood the board was made from and the runes were all very important- neglecting, like just about everything did, to explain why. Not that I really cared, it wasn’t my magic after all.
Which lead me to the question I had been asking myself all week. Why am I doing this? Here I am, Rebecca Crowley (joke about my name and my whole family will probably kill you. Yes, he was a relative, no we aren’t happy about it, okay?), member of the Crowley family (again, no jokes or we reach for the voodoo dolls), vassal family to House Camaalis, newly qualified barrister and pretty decent Empath and I am sitting in the sandy soil of a wind swept cliff edge trying to track Ley Lines from a Wellspring. Oh, there was bound to be a reason why I was chosen, even if it were just that there’s nobody else, but no-one had bothered to share that with me.
Almost instinctively I flinched away from the implied criticism of Camaalis. It wasn’t fair really, Camaalis had a lot to do all the time. Besides, they were so good at what they did they did tend to assume we knew things we didn’t. It’s not really their fault that we can’t keep up. Besides, all of this has been filtered through the Crowley family and you can guarantee some has been held back because someone’s afraid I’m up-and-coming or think it may be useful in their own little crawling into Camaalis’ good graces. In fact, it could be my family who chose me, rather than Camaalis. Yeah, that would make sense – Camaalis describes a job they need doing, an old Crowley sycophant – probably my grandfather – announces that we can do it and then poor me is sent out to try and keep our promises.
With new resolve I dangled the crystal and sent it swinging. I halting tried to read aloud the lines that were written in my notes. They were Celtic of some kind (don’t ask me which, I took French at school) and nearly unpronounceable (I don’t care what our ancient ancestors thought, no language can reasonably contain that much phlegm) but apparently they did something in the spirit world (don’t ask me, not my magic, remember? I’m just an Empath). The crystal began to glow as it swung back and forth. I scrabbled through the notes again. I had the right Ley Line if it turned ‘a light shade of turquoise’. Not ‘light blue’ nor ‘cerulean blue’ nor ‘blue-green’. I squinted at the crystal. Was that turquoise? I thought turquoise WAS blue-green? Why, when they wrote these things, did they never think to include a Dulux colour chart? It looked about right, anyway.
The next step was to throw a pinch of this dust that smelled like cigarette ash and anchovies along the line. Apparently I’m only to scatter a pinch and it is best not to use too much or too little. Huh. If quantity is so important, didn’t it occur to the authors to use a slightly more accurate measurement than a bloody ‘pinch?’ I grabbed some between two fingers and threw it in the same direction the crystal was spinning. It sparkled like a firework for a few seconds then the dust disappeared. OK… was that supposed to happen? I checked the notes but the author, along with bad measurements and less than helpful colour description, also hadn’t felt the need to include any descriptions of what should happen.
Ok, last step then I can write my little comment note (yes, we’re Magicians with feedback forms) about how unhelpful these notes have been. I don’t know if anyone will actually listen, but it will make me feel better. Last step is to rub a little of the dust onto my eye lids. What? Ew? And there’s no notes about side effects or allergies or whether it could turn me into a lab rabbit? Grumbling I rub some onto my eye lids – if I turn purple am I am not going to be a happy bunny.
My eyes felt… really strange. You know how sherbet goes all fizzy? My eyes felt like that, fizzy. It didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel right either. Eyes shouldn’t fizz. Of course, for all I know that’s probably it reacting with my eye shadow to produce the Toxic Magic Chemical of Death™ and leave me rotting on the floor. Then they’d complain at my corpse for polluting the Wellspring.
Slowly, and hazily, a misty turquoise line seemed to stretch out in front of me. It seemed to stretch for miles, gradually turning from turquoise to white in the distance. It got thinner as well, but that seemed really strange too – I couldn’t decide whether it was about as thick as my arm or as thick as a large truck. Sound weird? Well it’s not nearly as weird as seeing it – so this is what it must be like to be on acid. I didn’t turn around, I wasn’t even going to try and look at the Wellspring like this. But, hey, it worked! It actually worked.
I got up, brushed off the worse of the soil from my jeans and retied my hair where the wind had yanked it out of the clasp. All the tools gathered into a little parcel that I slung onto my back as I headed to my car. I hoped it was an optical illusion how long the line was. I didn’t want to spend all day on the road.
Actually, it wasn’t an optical illusion, it did go on for miles. The Line was still mainly turquoise here, meaning it must be many many miles before it actually turned white. Don’t ask me why distances can’t behave with magic. Maybe my magic sight needs glasses. Or maybe they gave me dodgy powder. Yeah, I’m going with the second.
Still, this was the place. According to my map, anyway – and it was just a map. A nice, simple ordinance survey map. I like that, they tried to give me a GPS but I canb guarantee it wouldn’t work or it would blow up or mutate or something. About the only bad thing you can say about a nice simple, paper map is that you need to be an origami expert to refold it. Still, I stood on a rise (thank you, my calves are killing me walking up that thing) and looked down at the somewhat scrubby meadow. A busy road passed not too far away and I knew there was a sizeable town just at the other side of that. This was the spot, the local council planned to build a large rubbish incinerator and possibly a water treatment plant on this very spot. It had so far gone completely unopposed. Remarkable, really. Normally you could rely on at least someone to oppose it out of sheer awkwardness. After all, Camaalis tried to change the use of one warehouse to allow it to store food products and it was amazing how many people leaped out of the woodwork to describe how this change would ruin their lives, destroy the country and end the world.
Camaalis wouldn’t care about the incinerator and water treatment plant either. Not even the possible rumours of a toxic waste dump. Except for one minor problem – the Ley Line ran right through the proposed area. And the Ley Line fed into the Wellsping of Wind several miles away. The pollution even the best run and cleanest plant could produce was likely to pollute the line when the line ran right through it. And that would do some nasty things to the Wellspring. The Line ran through the dead centre of the proposed site. They couldn’t use any part of it without effecting the line. Great. How do you get planning permission denied on the ground of Ley Lines?
I got back in my car and quickly checked what that powder had done to my eye make up before I set off on the long drive home. Hey, I had done my job perfectly. Can we have bets on whether this will stop them shooting the messenger?
Yes - same universe as sparkindarkness (Darren and Rick verse) but a different slice of it :)
I nervously shifted my notes again before making an effort to still my hands. I cursed under my breath at my fidgeting and cursed again at my curse – no matter how hard I tried I could never seem to get the hand of that icy dignified calm everyone else seemed to manage so easily. Mother always said it would come in time, but I think she says that about a lot of things.
I grimaced again, being distracted, that was another one of my problems. It always got me into trouble in university. My thoughts always seemed to wander no matter what I did. Again., mother said that that would get better in time. I tell you, there are so many things that will get better in time that I’m going to have to live to be 300 just to learn them all.
I looked down at the strange spool of wire connected to the crystal lying on the ground in front of me. There were some runes scattered about it and a strange chart actually carved into a block of wood with runes carved about its border. Apparently it was some kind of map. The power of the Wellspring beat around me gently, but I only faintly felt it, it wasn’t really my magic. It was like looking at a nuclear reactor – I could see it, feel it’s power but I really didn’t have any chance to understand it. The same with the stuff in front of me, I guess. The notes said that the type of crystal and the wood the board was made from and the runes were all very important- neglecting, like just about everything did, to explain why. Not that I really cared, it wasn’t my magic after all.
Which lead me to the question I had been asking myself all week. Why am I doing this? Here I am, Rebecca Crowley (joke about my name and my whole family will probably kill you. Yes, he was a relative, no we aren’t happy about it, okay?), member of the Crowley family (again, no jokes or we reach for the voodoo dolls), vassal family to House Camaalis, newly qualified barrister and pretty decent Empath and I am sitting in the sandy soil of a wind swept cliff edge trying to track Ley Lines from a Wellspring. Oh, there was bound to be a reason why I was chosen, even if it were just that there’s nobody else, but no-one had bothered to share that with me.
Almost instinctively I flinched away from the implied criticism of Camaalis. It wasn’t fair really, Camaalis had a lot to do all the time. Besides, they were so good at what they did they did tend to assume we knew things we didn’t. It’s not really their fault that we can’t keep up. Besides, all of this has been filtered through the Crowley family and you can guarantee some has been held back because someone’s afraid I’m up-and-coming or think it may be useful in their own little crawling into Camaalis’ good graces. In fact, it could be my family who chose me, rather than Camaalis. Yeah, that would make sense – Camaalis describes a job they need doing, an old Crowley sycophant – probably my grandfather – announces that we can do it and then poor me is sent out to try and keep our promises.
With new resolve I dangled the crystal and sent it swinging. I halting tried to read aloud the lines that were written in my notes. They were Celtic of some kind (don’t ask me which, I took French at school) and nearly unpronounceable (I don’t care what our ancient ancestors thought, no language can reasonably contain that much phlegm) but apparently they did something in the spirit world (don’t ask me, not my magic, remember? I’m just an Empath). The crystal began to glow as it swung back and forth. I scrabbled through the notes again. I had the right Ley Line if it turned ‘a light shade of turquoise’. Not ‘light blue’ nor ‘cerulean blue’ nor ‘blue-green’. I squinted at the crystal. Was that turquoise? I thought turquoise WAS blue-green? Why, when they wrote these things, did they never think to include a Dulux colour chart? It looked about right, anyway.
The next step was to throw a pinch of this dust that smelled like cigarette ash and anchovies along the line. Apparently I’m only to scatter a pinch and it is best not to use too much or too little. Huh. If quantity is so important, didn’t it occur to the authors to use a slightly more accurate measurement than a bloody ‘pinch?’ I grabbed some between two fingers and threw it in the same direction the crystal was spinning. It sparkled like a firework for a few seconds then the dust disappeared. OK… was that supposed to happen? I checked the notes but the author, along with bad measurements and less than helpful colour description, also hadn’t felt the need to include any descriptions of what should happen.
Ok, last step then I can write my little comment note (yes, we’re Magicians with feedback forms) about how unhelpful these notes have been. I don’t know if anyone will actually listen, but it will make me feel better. Last step is to rub a little of the dust onto my eye lids. What? Ew? And there’s no notes about side effects or allergies or whether it could turn me into a lab rabbit? Grumbling I rub some onto my eye lids – if I turn purple am I am not going to be a happy bunny.
My eyes felt… really strange. You know how sherbet goes all fizzy? My eyes felt like that, fizzy. It didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel right either. Eyes shouldn’t fizz. Of course, for all I know that’s probably it reacting with my eye shadow to produce the Toxic Magic Chemical of Death™ and leave me rotting on the floor. Then they’d complain at my corpse for polluting the Wellspring.
Slowly, and hazily, a misty turquoise line seemed to stretch out in front of me. It seemed to stretch for miles, gradually turning from turquoise to white in the distance. It got thinner as well, but that seemed really strange too – I couldn’t decide whether it was about as thick as my arm or as thick as a large truck. Sound weird? Well it’s not nearly as weird as seeing it – so this is what it must be like to be on acid. I didn’t turn around, I wasn’t even going to try and look at the Wellspring like this. But, hey, it worked! It actually worked.
I got up, brushed off the worse of the soil from my jeans and retied my hair where the wind had yanked it out of the clasp. All the tools gathered into a little parcel that I slung onto my back as I headed to my car. I hoped it was an optical illusion how long the line was. I didn’t want to spend all day on the road.
Actually, it wasn’t an optical illusion, it did go on for miles. The Line was still mainly turquoise here, meaning it must be many many miles before it actually turned white. Don’t ask me why distances can’t behave with magic. Maybe my magic sight needs glasses. Or maybe they gave me dodgy powder. Yeah, I’m going with the second.
Still, this was the place. According to my map, anyway – and it was just a map. A nice, simple ordinance survey map. I like that, they tried to give me a GPS but I canb guarantee it wouldn’t work or it would blow up or mutate or something. About the only bad thing you can say about a nice simple, paper map is that you need to be an origami expert to refold it. Still, I stood on a rise (thank you, my calves are killing me walking up that thing) and looked down at the somewhat scrubby meadow. A busy road passed not too far away and I knew there was a sizeable town just at the other side of that. This was the spot, the local council planned to build a large rubbish incinerator and possibly a water treatment plant on this very spot. It had so far gone completely unopposed. Remarkable, really. Normally you could rely on at least someone to oppose it out of sheer awkwardness. After all, Camaalis tried to change the use of one warehouse to allow it to store food products and it was amazing how many people leaped out of the woodwork to describe how this change would ruin their lives, destroy the country and end the world.
Camaalis wouldn’t care about the incinerator and water treatment plant either. Not even the possible rumours of a toxic waste dump. Except for one minor problem – the Ley Line ran right through the proposed area. And the Ley Line fed into the Wellsping of Wind several miles away. The pollution even the best run and cleanest plant could produce was likely to pollute the line when the line ran right through it. And that would do some nasty things to the Wellspring. The Line ran through the dead centre of the proposed site. They couldn’t use any part of it without effecting the line. Great. How do you get planning permission denied on the ground of Ley Lines?
I got back in my car and quickly checked what that powder had done to my eye make up before I set off on the long drive home. Hey, I had done my job perfectly. Can we have bets on whether this will stop them shooting the messenger?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 03:12 am (UTC)Or am I just being a clueless American?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 07:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 09:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 08:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 09:48 am (UTC)Rebecca's a little... sensitive about the name. It often means they aren't taken seriously
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-08 08:04 pm (UTC)I can relate to that. I really can.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-09 12:54 pm (UTC)Her family tell her that reflexively stabbing people is excessive.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-09 04:33 pm (UTC)