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sparkindarknessMore Drek! But I'm totally splurging at the moment. I need to keep writing or I will stop writing. So even if it's drek, it hits the page just to get in the habit of putting fingers to keyboard.
I was kind if impressed really. The whipped cream licking contest was bound to have created a mess, but probably not nearly so much the orgy that followed it. And how we were going to cover up the thefts and break ins at the lingerie chains, I don’t know. Even that seemed minor compared to trying to make everyone forget or explain the “Timewarp” incident. And that’s just skimming the first chapter.
I stuffed the huge list into my bag and went to find the people I was working with. Maybe one of them had a condensed version (what? I read huge boring documents all week, at least give me my weekends to be a ditzy slacker!) I checked the address of our “Event Command Centre” (Oh, a Crowley had to have named THAT one) and drive down there at breakneck speeds (if my grandfather wasn’t such a sour old goat all the time I would have gone to see him this morning and now I wouldn’t be bloody late). If I got a speeding ticket I was charging it to my Grandfather.
I ended up pulling into the car park of some kind of community centre, the kind of place that rents out rooms to cub scouts and the WI or the Concerned Citizens for Poking their Noses Where They Aren’t Wanted. A good choice, a Crowley can’t have chosen it. Last time a Crowley chose venue we ended up commandeering an entire hotel. Yes, try and covertly hide your activities after doing that.
Finding the room (Apparently being rented for people fascinated by the metaphorical application of Arthurian legend into modern daily life – yes, that sounded just boring enough to drive off the curious). I breezed into the room happily announcing, “Fear not, the super-Crowley is here to save the day!”
All eyes turned to me. There were four people in the room and I kind of recognised all of them. Pamela caught my eye first, but that’s because Pamela catches every eye first. I never know whether to be confused by the woman or insanely jealous of her. By any standards she’s fat, and I’m not talking “not a supermodel who’s nearly dead from chewing nothing but celery” fat but truly jiggly wiggly fat. Yet at the same time she sits there in her draped red and black dress and manages to be a mass of curvy sexiness who never fails to turn men’s heads. It’s so unfair that she can eat chocolate and be so sexy at the same time. Oh, she’s also a member of the Knights of Camelot and is not to be messed with – she teaches self-defence and empowerment and how the abused should channel their pain into anger and then channel that anger into ripping someone’s tonsils out. Her brother, Peter, was standing besides her. Well, looming beside her, more like, but he doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s hard not to loom when you’re as big as him. Tall, muscular and fatter than his sister, he looks like he could headbut his way through a wall. Except he’s one of the Brethren of the Heart, he’s a nurse and he spends his spare time at the animal shelter. He’ll take orphaned new borns home and hand rear them. He likes kittens. I’d worked with them both before and got on well with them; they both grinned at me and Peter offered me a seat.
I didn’t know the other two much. Amir was a seriously sexy member of House Elite. I didn’t think computer geeks were allowed to be hot, but from black hair to his tight muscular body and gorgeous dark eyes, Amir was lovely eye candy. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. He gave me a smile when it was clear I wasn’t being serious (yes, that really says all you need to know about the reputation of my family). The last member of our merry bunch was Simon from the Servants of the Outer Dark. He looked about 12, but then he’s looked like that for the last 6 years. He also had such a perfect aura of oriental inscrutability that I’m sure he must practice it in front of the mirror in the morning, seriously, I'm not buying that stereotype. He didn’t look like a sinister evil force, but Servants never did - even when they tried to be. He had been badly savaged by an attempt at a moustache though. It should have made him look older - instead it kind of looked like he had to wash his face. If he could be persuaded to have animal control remove it he might be kind of cute. He gave me a mysterious nod. I bet he spent an hour every day practicing that nod.
I dumped my dossier down on the table. “Ok, do I actually have to read all this stuff or am I a victim of maliciously excessive note taking? Or have we started selling advertising space in these reports?” I sighed excessively.
Pamela threw back her head and laughed – her trade mark laugh that made all men look. Her having that laugh and that sexiness was seriously not fair. “Oh, honey, does Greenpeace know how many trees you guys are killing?”
Peter gently took the dossier, his huge hands surprisingly deft as he thumbed through it. “Chapter 1 seems to have the facts,” he rumbled carefully, “the rest appear to be… suggestions.”
“Oh good.” I ripped out chapter 1 and carefully filed the rest in the nearest bin. Problem solved. “So I have a rough idea what happened here - our room full of bigots had a song and dance routine followed by a...“ I flipped a few pages... “followed by a lot of things.” I flipped another page. “Wow, a whole lot of things.” I turned the book on its side. “Hey, I got pictures. Did any of you guys get pictures?”
“I think ‘kinky bisexual orgy’ probably sums it up nicely.” Pamela said, smiling.
“Let’s go with that. So how did the kids do it? Inhibition dampner?” I ventured.
“A group of bigots gathering together to rant against the ills of society?” Peter rumbled. “They’re a group united by hate - you remove their inhibitions and I see violence, not kinky sex.”
“And they all reacted the same way.” Simon added, he hissed his ‘s’ slightly. I tried not to grin. Some of the Servants of the Outer Dark really did like to play into their reputation. “So many people, all with the same repressed desires? The same dark fetishes? But people are tempted in so many wonderful different ways. There are so many delightful ways to sin.” I think he tried a tempting smile. It didn’t work. With that moustache it really didn’t work. And the way he said sin? You just KNEW he was trying to wire up some kind of nifty sound effect for that.
“Does it matter how it was done?” Amir said clacking at his laptop.
“There could be lasting effects.” Peter chided gently. “We need to find these people and see if the magic has damaged them at all.”
“Doesn’t bother me much, to be honest.” Amir said, shrugging. “Camaalis pranks aren’t malicious. Worst thing that happens is some bigots are having trouble sleeping at night because they did such naughty things? Really not our problem. Probably do them some good, may make them rethink a few things. They’re not rioting any more, that’s the main thing. I’m more concerned with fallout - actual investigation by authorities, journalists etc. What do we need to cover up?”
Simon snorted. “Do we have to care about either? these politicians - their health or their reputation - are not our concerns since they’re such a minority party and of no use. What of the magic? There could be traces, lingering effects... side effects. As our dark House knows, unforeseen consequences can follow curses and black magic.” He steepled his fingers and tried to look mysterious and sinister. Amir had a sudden coughing fit that was in NO WAY due to laughter. Honest
Pamela looked ready to slap him silly. I think he’d probably enjoy that. I was counting to 10 - mustn’t laugh at the kid. And if the “dark House’s” curses had unforeseen consequences then they were doing it wrong. Trust me, I’m a Crowley, I know
“Ok,” I said brightly, sending out a gentle wave of calm. Messing with the minds of Magicians was always dicey but we could spend days arguing on this. “Sounds like we have things to investigate. 1. Any magical fallout we need to worry about. 2. Are the victims in a padded cell somewhere having the screaming meemies, 3. Who knows what, how much and do we need to make them forget all about it. Sound like a plan?”
Pamela gave a throaty chuckle, “Crowleys get things, done, you have to give them that.”
“Exactly, and usually you wish we hadn’t.” I said, grinning back. “Now, give me a few hours to turn that simple step plan into an overly complicated guide needing 4 flowcharts and an instruction manual in true Crowley fashion and we can get going.”
I don’t think anyone was especially happy with the plan, but no-one hated it enough to argue. Compromise at its best. Now where to begin...
I was kind if impressed really. The whipped cream licking contest was bound to have created a mess, but probably not nearly so much the orgy that followed it. And how we were going to cover up the thefts and break ins at the lingerie chains, I don’t know. Even that seemed minor compared to trying to make everyone forget or explain the “Timewarp” incident. And that’s just skimming the first chapter.
I stuffed the huge list into my bag and went to find the people I was working with. Maybe one of them had a condensed version (what? I read huge boring documents all week, at least give me my weekends to be a ditzy slacker!) I checked the address of our “Event Command Centre” (Oh, a Crowley had to have named THAT one) and drive down there at breakneck speeds (if my grandfather wasn’t such a sour old goat all the time I would have gone to see him this morning and now I wouldn’t be bloody late). If I got a speeding ticket I was charging it to my Grandfather.
I ended up pulling into the car park of some kind of community centre, the kind of place that rents out rooms to cub scouts and the WI or the Concerned Citizens for Poking their Noses Where They Aren’t Wanted. A good choice, a Crowley can’t have chosen it. Last time a Crowley chose venue we ended up commandeering an entire hotel. Yes, try and covertly hide your activities after doing that.
Finding the room (Apparently being rented for people fascinated by the metaphorical application of Arthurian legend into modern daily life – yes, that sounded just boring enough to drive off the curious). I breezed into the room happily announcing, “Fear not, the super-Crowley is here to save the day!”
All eyes turned to me. There were four people in the room and I kind of recognised all of them. Pamela caught my eye first, but that’s because Pamela catches every eye first. I never know whether to be confused by the woman or insanely jealous of her. By any standards she’s fat, and I’m not talking “not a supermodel who’s nearly dead from chewing nothing but celery” fat but truly jiggly wiggly fat. Yet at the same time she sits there in her draped red and black dress and manages to be a mass of curvy sexiness who never fails to turn men’s heads. It’s so unfair that she can eat chocolate and be so sexy at the same time. Oh, she’s also a member of the Knights of Camelot and is not to be messed with – she teaches self-defence and empowerment and how the abused should channel their pain into anger and then channel that anger into ripping someone’s tonsils out. Her brother, Peter, was standing besides her. Well, looming beside her, more like, but he doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s hard not to loom when you’re as big as him. Tall, muscular and fatter than his sister, he looks like he could headbut his way through a wall. Except he’s one of the Brethren of the Heart, he’s a nurse and he spends his spare time at the animal shelter. He’ll take orphaned new borns home and hand rear them. He likes kittens. I’d worked with them both before and got on well with them; they both grinned at me and Peter offered me a seat.
I didn’t know the other two much. Amir was a seriously sexy member of House Elite. I didn’t think computer geeks were allowed to be hot, but from black hair to his tight muscular body and gorgeous dark eyes, Amir was lovely eye candy. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. He gave me a smile when it was clear I wasn’t being serious (yes, that really says all you need to know about the reputation of my family). The last member of our merry bunch was Simon from the Servants of the Outer Dark. He looked about 12, but then he’s looked like that for the last 6 years. He also had such a perfect aura of oriental inscrutability that I’m sure he must practice it in front of the mirror in the morning, seriously, I'm not buying that stereotype. He didn’t look like a sinister evil force, but Servants never did - even when they tried to be. He had been badly savaged by an attempt at a moustache though. It should have made him look older - instead it kind of looked like he had to wash his face. If he could be persuaded to have animal control remove it he might be kind of cute. He gave me a mysterious nod. I bet he spent an hour every day practicing that nod.
I dumped my dossier down on the table. “Ok, do I actually have to read all this stuff or am I a victim of maliciously excessive note taking? Or have we started selling advertising space in these reports?” I sighed excessively.
Pamela threw back her head and laughed – her trade mark laugh that made all men look. Her having that laugh and that sexiness was seriously not fair. “Oh, honey, does Greenpeace know how many trees you guys are killing?”
Peter gently took the dossier, his huge hands surprisingly deft as he thumbed through it. “Chapter 1 seems to have the facts,” he rumbled carefully, “the rest appear to be… suggestions.”
“Oh good.” I ripped out chapter 1 and carefully filed the rest in the nearest bin. Problem solved. “So I have a rough idea what happened here - our room full of bigots had a song and dance routine followed by a...“ I flipped a few pages... “followed by a lot of things.” I flipped another page. “Wow, a whole lot of things.” I turned the book on its side. “Hey, I got pictures. Did any of you guys get pictures?”
“I think ‘kinky bisexual orgy’ probably sums it up nicely.” Pamela said, smiling.
“Let’s go with that. So how did the kids do it? Inhibition dampner?” I ventured.
“A group of bigots gathering together to rant against the ills of society?” Peter rumbled. “They’re a group united by hate - you remove their inhibitions and I see violence, not kinky sex.”
“And they all reacted the same way.” Simon added, he hissed his ‘s’ slightly. I tried not to grin. Some of the Servants of the Outer Dark really did like to play into their reputation. “So many people, all with the same repressed desires? The same dark fetishes? But people are tempted in so many wonderful different ways. There are so many delightful ways to sin.” I think he tried a tempting smile. It didn’t work. With that moustache it really didn’t work. And the way he said sin? You just KNEW he was trying to wire up some kind of nifty sound effect for that.
“Does it matter how it was done?” Amir said clacking at his laptop.
“There could be lasting effects.” Peter chided gently. “We need to find these people and see if the magic has damaged them at all.”
“Doesn’t bother me much, to be honest.” Amir said, shrugging. “Camaalis pranks aren’t malicious. Worst thing that happens is some bigots are having trouble sleeping at night because they did such naughty things? Really not our problem. Probably do them some good, may make them rethink a few things. They’re not rioting any more, that’s the main thing. I’m more concerned with fallout - actual investigation by authorities, journalists etc. What do we need to cover up?”
Simon snorted. “Do we have to care about either? these politicians - their health or their reputation - are not our concerns since they’re such a minority party and of no use. What of the magic? There could be traces, lingering effects... side effects. As our dark House knows, unforeseen consequences can follow curses and black magic.” He steepled his fingers and tried to look mysterious and sinister. Amir had a sudden coughing fit that was in NO WAY due to laughter. Honest
Pamela looked ready to slap him silly. I think he’d probably enjoy that. I was counting to 10 - mustn’t laugh at the kid. And if the “dark House’s” curses had unforeseen consequences then they were doing it wrong. Trust me, I’m a Crowley, I know
“Ok,” I said brightly, sending out a gentle wave of calm. Messing with the minds of Magicians was always dicey but we could spend days arguing on this. “Sounds like we have things to investigate. 1. Any magical fallout we need to worry about. 2. Are the victims in a padded cell somewhere having the screaming meemies, 3. Who knows what, how much and do we need to make them forget all about it. Sound like a plan?”
Pamela gave a throaty chuckle, “Crowleys get things, done, you have to give them that.”
“Exactly, and usually you wish we hadn’t.” I said, grinning back. “Now, give me a few hours to turn that simple step plan into an overly complicated guide needing 4 flowcharts and an instruction manual in true Crowley fashion and we can get going.”
I don’t think anyone was especially happy with the plan, but no-one hated it enough to argue. Compromise at its best. Now where to begin...
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-11 07:34 pm (UTC)Pamela through back her head and laughed
I think you were going for threw, not through. Confused me for a sec as I almost read it as Pamela laughed through the back of her head. That amused me to ponder how she managed it and it managed to creep out my Euthanatos. Always fun when that happens.
And this
With that moustache it really didn’t work. hehe so this dude looks 12 but has a moustache? I suppose it doesn't help him look older at all huh?
Other than that, well done! it's most amusing drek. I'm going to have to go back and re-read the rest since apparently there was an orgy I missed or had forgotten about. Off I go!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 02:07 pm (UTC)Hmm that isn't well worded. He DOES have a moustache but it's weasley and patchy and he's too young for it and it just makes him look worse - kind of like those 14-15 year olds who don't shave their bum-fluff and try to grow "beards"
Thankeee :) Missing orgies is a terrible habit! I'm sure Ms. Manners had something to say about it