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sparkindarknessWell, I don't distract easy not even when Radoslav is the one doing the distracting.
Of course, we all know that's a lie, but I'm still clinging to it in blissful self-dellusion. Lookit, pink elephants!
Y'know, before the last post I felt sure I;d be able to get Rick and Darren back to what passes for normal life for them. No such luck right? Well, I am, if I have to drag them every bloody step of the way damn it! And no amount of angst nor the entire Camaalis family is going to stop me.
Oh and at some point I have to get Donald to tell Rick his name, it's getting more than a little annoying having Rick using descritpions all the time.
{edit to add: well, the whole fic. Can't believe I forgot it!}
“So what do we have to do?” I really don’t know how to start, this is really old shamanism, ancient really. Guess my ultra-modern outlook isn’t good for everything then.
The older shaman looks really nervous though, not really confidence building, but I’m guessing half of it is being in a strange place without any friendly spirits around. The fact they're all techno spirits can’t be helping him any. I suppose it would help to let some of his allies in the room, but I don’t trust him. Chances are a part of him still would love to see Darren dead, love or no love. Shit, he’d probably think it a mercy. And it’s still wierding me out to see Darren’s eyes in a stranger’s face.
“I confess, I’ll be guessing for some of this. I don’t understand your spirits. We need memory, mind and thought, but not direct spirits of them, something more... evocative of them than actually an avatar of them. Do you understand? At home I’d use elephant spirits, bear spirits, owl spirits with some Rowan, Rosemary and Oak spirits, Here?” He looked around at the hyper-modern flat with all my high tech, cutting edge gizmos with something resembling despair. “Would such spirits even come here?”
Well, he was still an arrogant bastard. “They will come here, actually, but I’m not going to call them. It’d be, well, wrong to force them into the city. But I think I can dredge up a replacement or two.”
He looked doubtful, but nodded, he didn't have much choice really, did he? “Fine, I’ll trust your judgement, he’s your lover after all. We need a reagent as well. Something of spiritual essence with the correct resonance - again, memory mind or thought, but not a spirit itself.”
“Basically something to feed or strengthen the spirits and encourage the right, uh... powers?”
He looked surprised there, blinking those incredible blue eyes too quickly for several seconds before answering. “Yes... Amazingly, you’re right. At home I’d burn a herbal mixture, mainly of Rosemary, suspended in an oil. Anis, I think. Here?” He shrugged, incredibly expressively, something oddly foreign, I mean more foreign than usual. It didn't look like an English gesture. “Well. I suppose we could buy them here?”
“Don’t worry, I got replacements.”
“Ok... then we need prepare the ritual.”
I think he thought I was mad by the time we had finished getting ready. The circles and runes we drew on the floor we both recognised fairly well, even if a few of those runes had been created on computer and printed out. He wasn't happy about that, but if it’s techno spirits I have to call I’m not going to make any friends by drawing runes in a lump of unrefined chalk. But when I grabbed the rosemary air freshener in its pressurised tin and a bottle of pernod I had to practically fight him to use them. Alright, I know they’re not exactly spiritual, but the herbs are still the same. Anis in the pernod, and alcohol is related to the mind. Honest.
He didn’t recognise the spirits, which was a mercy at least. A spirit of a Processor (an Athlon), a spirit of RAM (he really didn't get what that was, and I had to fight off a bloody Microsoft spirit before we could continue, last thing I needed was a spirit of Windows in my lover’s mind, he’s got enough problems). Ghost was willing to herd it all together and fill in any gaps, at least he made the Camaalis shaman settle down, my spirit guide is plenty powerful enough to impress any shaman. And snarky enough anyway.
Look, hippy boy, get with the programme. We can all sweat in a mud hut in the forest somewhere later, ‘kay? Now we have to bring angst boy back, ‘cos the last thing I need is for Rick to go Goth. He’s not nearly cool enough for it.
Personally I think this shaman is too old fashioned to deal with ghost, heh, I'm betting he was taught to revere the sprits. You can’t revere Ghost, he’ll take way too much advantage of it. Still, the preparation’s done, the flat’s crowded with spirits and humming with power. What’s next? “Ok, now what? We’ve got some severe mojo building up here, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I haven’t known what we were doing ever since you opened the air freshener.” He was not happy, but that was his problem. “Look... this is important, how much does Darren trust you?”
Weird question... as far as I know he trusts me completely, well, I think so anyway, right? “I think he trusts me, he's not afraid of me or anything.”
“That’s not what I meant, not as such. How much do you know about him? How many secrets has he told you? Does he talk about himself?”
I really don’t want to play agony aunt with this guy. Besides his questions are hitting, a little close Darren never tells me anything. But it’s not because he doesn't trust me! I’m sure of it... right? “Look, he doesn't talk about himself - he does trust me, but if you want me to answer 20 questions on him I’m going to fail. I always got the impression that his past was too painful to talk about. Of course, I bet you understand all about that since you’re one of the bastards who made it so unbearable in the first place.”
“Spare me you’re righteous anger, I have no time for it. His hands aren't clean enough for you to judge our actions. Now, did he tell you about his uncle, Alexei?”
“No... I know he hated him, but that's about it. Something big happen?”
“It isn’t your business, and it is Darren’s place to tell, if he chooses to do so. To bring him back, the spirits will guide you through his mind to his consciousness. The main problem will be getting past the evil that lurks in his mind, I am trusting to your courage, your purity and your love to get you past that.” He shrugged, “I can't help you there, but you could die facing it.”
Well, he doesn't he sound worried about it. Why do I get the feeling that if I die he isn't going to be all that bothered about it? “And what does that have to do with his uncle?”
“The second obstacle is Darren’s memories. You’re entering his mind, his thoughts and memories will largely be available to you. That is not a pleasant experience. Will Darren be able to accept you knowing everything about him? Will he tolerate it? He may fight you, try to push you out. He may destroy himself rather than let his secrets be known. Either way, I hope I don't have to tell you how dangerous he is.” He paused, looked a little concerned for like the first time ever. “Or, could he live with you, even if you bring him back, knowing how much you know? Will he leave, be driven away by your knowledge. Can you stand that?”
I thought for a while. This was a huge biggie. I mean I’d hate for Darren to be able to riffle round in my head, I got some memories there I don't want anyone to know, no matter how much I love them or how much I trust them. I'd be pissed, on a mega knew uber scale. And Darren? Well Darren’s got to have some worse memories than I do, he's got to want to keep them secret more than me...
Fuck, I don't know why I was even debating this, it’s not like I had much choice in the matter, really is it? I can either try and risk Darren killing me, risk him killing himself and risk him running off into the sunset, or I can cope with him living as a vegetable for the rest of his life. No choice. I have to take the risk, no matter how bad it is. Fuck, at the minute I don't care if continuing could cause the next world war, the end of the world or George Bush winning a second term. I have to do it.
I just looked at him and nodded. He understood. We were going to do this.
Of course, we all know that's a lie, but I'm still clinging to it in blissful self-dellusion. Lookit, pink elephants!
Y'know, before the last post I felt sure I;d be able to get Rick and Darren back to what passes for normal life for them. No such luck right? Well, I am, if I have to drag them every bloody step of the way damn it! And no amount of angst nor the entire Camaalis family is going to stop me.
Oh and at some point I have to get Donald to tell Rick his name, it's getting more than a little annoying having Rick using descritpions all the time.
{edit to add: well, the whole fic. Can't believe I forgot it!}
“So what do we have to do?” I really don’t know how to start, this is really old shamanism, ancient really. Guess my ultra-modern outlook isn’t good for everything then.
The older shaman looks really nervous though, not really confidence building, but I’m guessing half of it is being in a strange place without any friendly spirits around. The fact they're all techno spirits can’t be helping him any. I suppose it would help to let some of his allies in the room, but I don’t trust him. Chances are a part of him still would love to see Darren dead, love or no love. Shit, he’d probably think it a mercy. And it’s still wierding me out to see Darren’s eyes in a stranger’s face.
“I confess, I’ll be guessing for some of this. I don’t understand your spirits. We need memory, mind and thought, but not direct spirits of them, something more... evocative of them than actually an avatar of them. Do you understand? At home I’d use elephant spirits, bear spirits, owl spirits with some Rowan, Rosemary and Oak spirits, Here?” He looked around at the hyper-modern flat with all my high tech, cutting edge gizmos with something resembling despair. “Would such spirits even come here?”
Well, he was still an arrogant bastard. “They will come here, actually, but I’m not going to call them. It’d be, well, wrong to force them into the city. But I think I can dredge up a replacement or two.”
He looked doubtful, but nodded, he didn't have much choice really, did he? “Fine, I’ll trust your judgement, he’s your lover after all. We need a reagent as well. Something of spiritual essence with the correct resonance - again, memory mind or thought, but not a spirit itself.”
“Basically something to feed or strengthen the spirits and encourage the right, uh... powers?”
He looked surprised there, blinking those incredible blue eyes too quickly for several seconds before answering. “Yes... Amazingly, you’re right. At home I’d burn a herbal mixture, mainly of Rosemary, suspended in an oil. Anis, I think. Here?” He shrugged, incredibly expressively, something oddly foreign, I mean more foreign than usual. It didn't look like an English gesture. “Well. I suppose we could buy them here?”
“Don’t worry, I got replacements.”
“Ok... then we need prepare the ritual.”
I think he thought I was mad by the time we had finished getting ready. The circles and runes we drew on the floor we both recognised fairly well, even if a few of those runes had been created on computer and printed out. He wasn't happy about that, but if it’s techno spirits I have to call I’m not going to make any friends by drawing runes in a lump of unrefined chalk. But when I grabbed the rosemary air freshener in its pressurised tin and a bottle of pernod I had to practically fight him to use them. Alright, I know they’re not exactly spiritual, but the herbs are still the same. Anis in the pernod, and alcohol is related to the mind. Honest.
He didn’t recognise the spirits, which was a mercy at least. A spirit of a Processor (an Athlon), a spirit of RAM (he really didn't get what that was, and I had to fight off a bloody Microsoft spirit before we could continue, last thing I needed was a spirit of Windows in my lover’s mind, he’s got enough problems). Ghost was willing to herd it all together and fill in any gaps, at least he made the Camaalis shaman settle down, my spirit guide is plenty powerful enough to impress any shaman. And snarky enough anyway.
Look, hippy boy, get with the programme. We can all sweat in a mud hut in the forest somewhere later, ‘kay? Now we have to bring angst boy back, ‘cos the last thing I need is for Rick to go Goth. He’s not nearly cool enough for it.
Personally I think this shaman is too old fashioned to deal with ghost, heh, I'm betting he was taught to revere the sprits. You can’t revere Ghost, he’ll take way too much advantage of it. Still, the preparation’s done, the flat’s crowded with spirits and humming with power. What’s next? “Ok, now what? We’ve got some severe mojo building up here, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I haven’t known what we were doing ever since you opened the air freshener.” He was not happy, but that was his problem. “Look... this is important, how much does Darren trust you?”
Weird question... as far as I know he trusts me completely, well, I think so anyway, right? “I think he trusts me, he's not afraid of me or anything.”
“That’s not what I meant, not as such. How much do you know about him? How many secrets has he told you? Does he talk about himself?”
I really don’t want to play agony aunt with this guy. Besides his questions are hitting, a little close Darren never tells me anything. But it’s not because he doesn't trust me! I’m sure of it... right? “Look, he doesn't talk about himself - he does trust me, but if you want me to answer 20 questions on him I’m going to fail. I always got the impression that his past was too painful to talk about. Of course, I bet you understand all about that since you’re one of the bastards who made it so unbearable in the first place.”
“Spare me you’re righteous anger, I have no time for it. His hands aren't clean enough for you to judge our actions. Now, did he tell you about his uncle, Alexei?”
“No... I know he hated him, but that's about it. Something big happen?”
“It isn’t your business, and it is Darren’s place to tell, if he chooses to do so. To bring him back, the spirits will guide you through his mind to his consciousness. The main problem will be getting past the evil that lurks in his mind, I am trusting to your courage, your purity and your love to get you past that.” He shrugged, “I can't help you there, but you could die facing it.”
Well, he doesn't he sound worried about it. Why do I get the feeling that if I die he isn't going to be all that bothered about it? “And what does that have to do with his uncle?”
“The second obstacle is Darren’s memories. You’re entering his mind, his thoughts and memories will largely be available to you. That is not a pleasant experience. Will Darren be able to accept you knowing everything about him? Will he tolerate it? He may fight you, try to push you out. He may destroy himself rather than let his secrets be known. Either way, I hope I don't have to tell you how dangerous he is.” He paused, looked a little concerned for like the first time ever. “Or, could he live with you, even if you bring him back, knowing how much you know? Will he leave, be driven away by your knowledge. Can you stand that?”
I thought for a while. This was a huge biggie. I mean I’d hate for Darren to be able to riffle round in my head, I got some memories there I don't want anyone to know, no matter how much I love them or how much I trust them. I'd be pissed, on a mega knew uber scale. And Darren? Well Darren’s got to have some worse memories than I do, he's got to want to keep them secret more than me...
Fuck, I don't know why I was even debating this, it’s not like I had much choice in the matter, really is it? I can either try and risk Darren killing me, risk him killing himself and risk him running off into the sunset, or I can cope with him living as a vegetable for the rest of his life. No choice. I have to take the risk, no matter how bad it is. Fuck, at the minute I don't care if continuing could cause the next world war, the end of the world or George Bush winning a second term. I have to do it.
I just looked at him and nodded. He understood. We were going to do this.