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sparkindarknessI am determined, admantly so, that they WILL have some nice normal life without life and death struggle.
No, don't laugh - they WILL have normal life that doesn't include violence or sex. It's not I'm even writing a made-for-TV movie!
“OK, the shelves are filled - Rick stay away from the lust potions section, I’m watching you. Right, shelves are filled, we have imps chittering in the rafters - Ahrimadan, for the thousandth time, will you leave them alone?! Play with your mouse or something. The phones, computers and - Ghost! Get out of that bloody till. Yes, I KNOW you’re in there. Don’t try to play dumb, I do not believe for a second that the manufacturer has sold me a till with that welcome message.” There was a crash and a plaintive yowl from one side of the shop. I think Darren was going to have a break down at this rate.
“Ahrimadan! Stop knocking over the holy water bottles. No, I don’t want excuses just stop it. And I can SEE you nudging your mouse behind one - don’t think I can’t. ‘I was playing’ is not an acceptable excuse, do you hear me?” His voice dropped suspiciously as some of the lights flickered. “Ghost? Get out of the wiring. I know you’re there, I don’t know what your planning but stop it now. RICHARD OWEN!!!”
I flinched reflexively, nearly dropping the bottles I was carrying. “Argh, don’t call me that!” No-one ever called me Richard unless they were pissed with me. It was a rule or something. I’d even made a point of not telling Darren my full name, but he found my birth certificate while he was burrowing for paperwork for this place. Guess I really should clear up more often.
“What are you planning on doing with those two lust potions?” His voice was full of humming menace. Hey, isn’t he supposed to be the sub? This is so unfair. I made a vague gesture towards the shelves, but he never gave me time to explain (I did have an explanation, honest). “Neither of them go on that shelf, so don’t even try. You wouldn’t be thinking of MIXING those two powerful lust potions, DESPITE the large warnings in front of you telling you not to?”
Fuck, rumbled. I tried to think of an innocent explanation. He grabbed the bottles off me and put them back on the shelves. I pouted at him, my best wounded pout. His hand snaked out of nowhere and smacked me round the back of the head. Ow! That really hurt. I tried to grab him but he was already crusading further down the shop, threatening Ahrimadan with a broomstick.
“I think your boy was better when he was trying to kill us all.” Mia sauntered in the shop. It was supposed to be locked, I’m sure. Ah, no wait, I was supposed to have locked it. Oops.
“Hey, Mia. Come to watch the breakdown? I grinned, pointing to where Darren was dragging his cat away from the wisps swirling in their jars.
“I thought Brits were all calm and collected?” Mia grinned, coming to stand next to me. I casually palmed a lust potion to her to hide for me.
Darren grimaced. He hated ‘Brit’ for some reason. Don’t ask me why. Apparently British people didn’t use the world. He actually said most British people didn’t even use the word ‘British’ much. I don’t know, I think he might just be messing with my head. “Most British people,” he growled angrily, “do not have to contend with these three.”
He stalked towards us, his hair was all mussed making him look a little wild. He dumped an indignant cat in my arms then quickly fished into Mia’s purse and pulled out the lust potion while we were distracted with the angry feline.
“Hey,” she protested angrily. He glared at her.
“Don’t encourage him!” He stalked back to the counter, pausing only to smack me on the way. Ow! I really was going to get him next time he did that. I thought about throwing Ahrimadan at him but the cat was giving me a ‘don’t you fucking dare’ look. Aren’t cats good at those? It’s almost as good as his ‘I can kill you with my glare,’ look.
“Rick, where’s the picketers?” Darren stared out the window at the defiantly empty street. “We open next week, they really should be started about now.”
“Good news!” I grinned, glad to be the bringing of good tidings. Hey, I’d managed to piss him off pretty solidly for the past 3 weeks up to this opening (it wasn’t like I was even trying for most of it. Hmmm… maybe I should get out some of the leather toys and make it up to him? Nah, deal with that later). “The, I dunno, what’s the organization called again? Families against Fun? Fundies for boredom? Fanatics against Everything? Whatever, they’ve called off the picket. One of the founders is ill or something. And most of the protestors are from out of state anyway.”
“What?!” Darren looked less than thrilled. “That’s terrible! Gods, do you know how hard it was to arrange a picket in New York, anyway? It’s not like we’re in Texas or Alabama. They were calling in people from out of state just to make up the numbers.”
“Waaaait, you want to be picketed?” Mia and I exchanged looks, I was lost.
“Of course. You don’t get better publicity than that. Even better, a fair slice of our market - non-magical pagans or pagan-wannabes positively LOVE being persecuted. It’s pretty hard to get the indignant righteousness of being oppressed these days when you’re a middle class, heterosexual white person.” He explained it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Or like we were being stupid. Ahrimadan looked at me like I was being stupid as well, but he always kind of looks at me that way. I’d kick him but I think he’d eat my leg.
“You aren’t allowed to use hate groups as publicity. I’m sure there’s a rule about that somewhere. And it’s got to be morally wrong to prey on middle-class white-folk’s teenage angst.” Mia couldn’t help grinning through.
“Lord and Lady,” Darren raised his eyes to the heavens in supplication. “It’s an occult and sex shop run by a gay pagan. If we were in Alabama or Texas or Utah they’d be crawling out of the woodwork to politely inform me of my holiday booking in Hell. Is one measly picket line too much to ask? What more do I have to do, offer abortions at the back door?”
Mia just collapsed laughing. I flared up, trying to be indignant. “Hey, my dad’s Texan!”
“Really?” Mia gaped at me, almost choking down her laughter. “Where’s your mom from?”
“Arkansas.”
“Wow. How did they end up with you?”
“Karma, I think.” I grinned. “I’m still waiting for them to invite me and Darren over for thanksgiving or something. We could bring the cat.” I tickled Ahrimadan behind the ears. “Does de nice liddle daemon cat wanna eat my mom’s doggy?” The cat glared at me. And licked his chops.
“Don’t encourage him to eat dogs. Your new landlord is still looking for his Rotweiler.” Darren sighed tiredly. “Aw well, I’ll get some adverts put in somewhere for publicity, I guess. Everything’s ready, so long as you gremlins don’t destroy anything else. I just need to programme the till and we’re done.” Darren sighed again and bent to work on it.
“Want to get a coffee or something?” Mia asked, quickly getting board. Ah, she needed to be more patient, there was more fun to be had yet.
“Nah, just sit and watch for a while, trust me.” I grinned, pulling up a chair. Darren glared suspiciously at me. I just grinned and watched.
I was still watching half an hour later, though Mia was near collapsed on the floor trying not to laugh. Darren’s hair had given up all pretence of order and stuck up around him like a mad scientist who used to do shampoo adverts.
“What did you do to it?” Darren growled at me, glaring eyes promising painful vengeance.
I grinned. I loved this. It was good for him to be helpless and dependent now and then. Honest. "I've done nothing, but you need to programme it."
He glared at me. "It's a bloody till not a computer."
"Everything's a computer now." Mia also grinned. She watched him pick up the manual. We both grinned. "That's useless. it will confuse you. Manuals are an evil conspiracy by computer nerds to ensure that the non-elite never encroach on our domain."
"Looks like you will have to ask for help..." I looked at him expectantly. "C'mon, you can do it... it's not that hard..." I grinned.
His eyes narrowed to slits his 'I'm going to kill you with my glare' look was nearly as good as Ahrimadan's. He took a deep breath and forced his words out between clenched teeth. "Rick, I would greatly appreciate it if you would assist me. Please." The last word was nearly spat.
I smiled, REALLY trying not to tease. He was getting better. "Of course." Mia blinked at me in surprise, but I touched her arm where Darren couldn't see, a silent plea for quiet. I went over and started fixing it for him, actually really pleased he asked for help.
I feel like on of those child psychologists, but we need to work something out. Darren can't run from his power and he can't let it go mad, we've tried both and they both suck elephant balls and rain corpses all round. He needs to live with it and to do that he needs to sort his head out - not just his head from a really messed up childhood, but also from basic Camaalis-ness. Having the others around has really opened my eyes (yeah they were still lurking, well the Seer and the corpsy-couple were talking ominously about a big prophecy he won't tell us about yet) - I can see their weird shit in Darren more after seeing them. And some of it just has to go or at least toned down a bit. Asking for help was the first step, but a reaaaly big one for the infallible, all powerful and all arrogant Camaalis.I'd get there. We'd sort out his head, his life, my life and we'd live happily ever after in a bondage dungeon of our choice.
And who says adults don't believe in fairy tales?
No, don't laugh - they WILL have normal life that doesn't include violence or sex. It's not I'm even writing a made-for-TV movie!
“OK, the shelves are filled - Rick stay away from the lust potions section, I’m watching you. Right, shelves are filled, we have imps chittering in the rafters - Ahrimadan, for the thousandth time, will you leave them alone?! Play with your mouse or something. The phones, computers and - Ghost! Get out of that bloody till. Yes, I KNOW you’re in there. Don’t try to play dumb, I do not believe for a second that the manufacturer has sold me a till with that welcome message.” There was a crash and a plaintive yowl from one side of the shop. I think Darren was going to have a break down at this rate.
“Ahrimadan! Stop knocking over the holy water bottles. No, I don’t want excuses just stop it. And I can SEE you nudging your mouse behind one - don’t think I can’t. ‘I was playing’ is not an acceptable excuse, do you hear me?” His voice dropped suspiciously as some of the lights flickered. “Ghost? Get out of the wiring. I know you’re there, I don’t know what your planning but stop it now. RICHARD OWEN!!!”
I flinched reflexively, nearly dropping the bottles I was carrying. “Argh, don’t call me that!” No-one ever called me Richard unless they were pissed with me. It was a rule or something. I’d even made a point of not telling Darren my full name, but he found my birth certificate while he was burrowing for paperwork for this place. Guess I really should clear up more often.
“What are you planning on doing with those two lust potions?” His voice was full of humming menace. Hey, isn’t he supposed to be the sub? This is so unfair. I made a vague gesture towards the shelves, but he never gave me time to explain (I did have an explanation, honest). “Neither of them go on that shelf, so don’t even try. You wouldn’t be thinking of MIXING those two powerful lust potions, DESPITE the large warnings in front of you telling you not to?”
Fuck, rumbled. I tried to think of an innocent explanation. He grabbed the bottles off me and put them back on the shelves. I pouted at him, my best wounded pout. His hand snaked out of nowhere and smacked me round the back of the head. Ow! That really hurt. I tried to grab him but he was already crusading further down the shop, threatening Ahrimadan with a broomstick.
“I think your boy was better when he was trying to kill us all.” Mia sauntered in the shop. It was supposed to be locked, I’m sure. Ah, no wait, I was supposed to have locked it. Oops.
“Hey, Mia. Come to watch the breakdown? I grinned, pointing to where Darren was dragging his cat away from the wisps swirling in their jars.
“I thought Brits were all calm and collected?” Mia grinned, coming to stand next to me. I casually palmed a lust potion to her to hide for me.
Darren grimaced. He hated ‘Brit’ for some reason. Don’t ask me why. Apparently British people didn’t use the world. He actually said most British people didn’t even use the word ‘British’ much. I don’t know, I think he might just be messing with my head. “Most British people,” he growled angrily, “do not have to contend with these three.”
He stalked towards us, his hair was all mussed making him look a little wild. He dumped an indignant cat in my arms then quickly fished into Mia’s purse and pulled out the lust potion while we were distracted with the angry feline.
“Hey,” she protested angrily. He glared at her.
“Don’t encourage him!” He stalked back to the counter, pausing only to smack me on the way. Ow! I really was going to get him next time he did that. I thought about throwing Ahrimadan at him but the cat was giving me a ‘don’t you fucking dare’ look. Aren’t cats good at those? It’s almost as good as his ‘I can kill you with my glare,’ look.
“Rick, where’s the picketers?” Darren stared out the window at the defiantly empty street. “We open next week, they really should be started about now.”
“Good news!” I grinned, glad to be the bringing of good tidings. Hey, I’d managed to piss him off pretty solidly for the past 3 weeks up to this opening (it wasn’t like I was even trying for most of it. Hmmm… maybe I should get out some of the leather toys and make it up to him? Nah, deal with that later). “The, I dunno, what’s the organization called again? Families against Fun? Fundies for boredom? Fanatics against Everything? Whatever, they’ve called off the picket. One of the founders is ill or something. And most of the protestors are from out of state anyway.”
“What?!” Darren looked less than thrilled. “That’s terrible! Gods, do you know how hard it was to arrange a picket in New York, anyway? It’s not like we’re in Texas or Alabama. They were calling in people from out of state just to make up the numbers.”
“Waaaait, you want to be picketed?” Mia and I exchanged looks, I was lost.
“Of course. You don’t get better publicity than that. Even better, a fair slice of our market - non-magical pagans or pagan-wannabes positively LOVE being persecuted. It’s pretty hard to get the indignant righteousness of being oppressed these days when you’re a middle class, heterosexual white person.” He explained it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Or like we were being stupid. Ahrimadan looked at me like I was being stupid as well, but he always kind of looks at me that way. I’d kick him but I think he’d eat my leg.
“You aren’t allowed to use hate groups as publicity. I’m sure there’s a rule about that somewhere. And it’s got to be morally wrong to prey on middle-class white-folk’s teenage angst.” Mia couldn’t help grinning through.
“Lord and Lady,” Darren raised his eyes to the heavens in supplication. “It’s an occult and sex shop run by a gay pagan. If we were in Alabama or Texas or Utah they’d be crawling out of the woodwork to politely inform me of my holiday booking in Hell. Is one measly picket line too much to ask? What more do I have to do, offer abortions at the back door?”
Mia just collapsed laughing. I flared up, trying to be indignant. “Hey, my dad’s Texan!”
“Really?” Mia gaped at me, almost choking down her laughter. “Where’s your mom from?”
“Arkansas.”
“Wow. How did they end up with you?”
“Karma, I think.” I grinned. “I’m still waiting for them to invite me and Darren over for thanksgiving or something. We could bring the cat.” I tickled Ahrimadan behind the ears. “Does de nice liddle daemon cat wanna eat my mom’s doggy?” The cat glared at me. And licked his chops.
“Don’t encourage him to eat dogs. Your new landlord is still looking for his Rotweiler.” Darren sighed tiredly. “Aw well, I’ll get some adverts put in somewhere for publicity, I guess. Everything’s ready, so long as you gremlins don’t destroy anything else. I just need to programme the till and we’re done.” Darren sighed again and bent to work on it.
“Want to get a coffee or something?” Mia asked, quickly getting board. Ah, she needed to be more patient, there was more fun to be had yet.
“Nah, just sit and watch for a while, trust me.” I grinned, pulling up a chair. Darren glared suspiciously at me. I just grinned and watched.
I was still watching half an hour later, though Mia was near collapsed on the floor trying not to laugh. Darren’s hair had given up all pretence of order and stuck up around him like a mad scientist who used to do shampoo adverts.
“What did you do to it?” Darren growled at me, glaring eyes promising painful vengeance.
I grinned. I loved this. It was good for him to be helpless and dependent now and then. Honest. "I've done nothing, but you need to programme it."
He glared at me. "It's a bloody till not a computer."
"Everything's a computer now." Mia also grinned. She watched him pick up the manual. We both grinned. "That's useless. it will confuse you. Manuals are an evil conspiracy by computer nerds to ensure that the non-elite never encroach on our domain."
"Looks like you will have to ask for help..." I looked at him expectantly. "C'mon, you can do it... it's not that hard..." I grinned.
His eyes narrowed to slits his 'I'm going to kill you with my glare' look was nearly as good as Ahrimadan's. He took a deep breath and forced his words out between clenched teeth. "Rick, I would greatly appreciate it if you would assist me. Please." The last word was nearly spat.
I smiled, REALLY trying not to tease. He was getting better. "Of course." Mia blinked at me in surprise, but I touched her arm where Darren couldn't see, a silent plea for quiet. I went over and started fixing it for him, actually really pleased he asked for help.
I feel like on of those child psychologists, but we need to work something out. Darren can't run from his power and he can't let it go mad, we've tried both and they both suck elephant balls and rain corpses all round. He needs to live with it and to do that he needs to sort his head out - not just his head from a really messed up childhood, but also from basic Camaalis-ness. Having the others around has really opened my eyes (yeah they were still lurking, well the Seer and the corpsy-couple were talking ominously about a big prophecy he won't tell us about yet) - I can see their weird shit in Darren more after seeing them. And some of it just has to go or at least toned down a bit. Asking for help was the first step, but a reaaaly big one for the infallible, all powerful and all arrogant Camaalis.I'd get there. We'd sort out his head, his life, my life and we'd live happily ever after in a bondage dungeon of our choice.
And who says adults don't believe in fairy tales?