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Kalanna Rai
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 Posted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 7:51 pm Post subject: PHOENIX- Burn Eleven: Rain of Fire- FINAL CHAPTER!!! |
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Since many of my SG's seem to be dying, slow and painful deaths, I felt it was time to add a new title to my portfolio...Enjoy...
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Phoenix
Burn One: Tinderbox
One more block. Just one more to go. He could see the lights of the 12th Precinct from the corner he stood on. Rain beat on his head, flattening his black hair to his head, soaking the shoulders of his leather bomber, dripping onto his leather boots. One more block.
He could have sprinted it in less than a minute, athlete that he was, could have been in there singing his heart out, playing pigeon. He could feel their eyes on his back, their burning stares, feel their hot breath scalding his neck. Yet the alley in his path had him frozen with indecision.
He knew they were there, waiting for him, could feel it instinctively, and Ian's instincts were rarely wrong...except when he ignored them like he'd been doing for the past several years. But he was getting out, come hell or high water; he was severing his connections and getting his brother to safety. The time had come.
Clenching his fists so tightly that thin rivulets of blood seeped from between his white knuckles, he screwed his eyes tightly shut. With a prayer to the Almighty that, no matter what happened to him, Lyr would be saved Ian opened his eyes...and bolted. Wet black hair scraped across his vision, blinding him, and he ruthlessly shoved it out of his eyes.
He blew between a couple busy kissing under an umbrella, ignoring their angry protests. He who hesitates is lost. His jeans were soaked as he planted his feet firmly in puddles, sending their contents rushing upwards to be absorbed by the cotton denim. The alleyway loomed wide, like the maw of some horrible beast. He who hesitates is lost. The heat of the gazes intensified...
And suddenly he was past, leaving only mildly startled bums huddled under trashcans in the alley shadows. A smile split Ian's grim visage. He made it! Yet his pace didn't slow as he took the Precinct’s steps three at a bound, slamming through the double doors at the top.
Beat cops in blue uniforms scattered in every direction and angry stares turned his way as they all wondered who the hell was that guy and what was he doing. Ian had never been happier to see cops in his life; he could have kissed each one of them. On trembling legs, worn by exertion, nerves, and relief, he approached the duty Sergeant.
Between gasping breaths, hands splayed on the counter for support, every inch shaking as a puddle of rainwater spread around him on the floor Ian said "I have a confession."
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Earlier that day...
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"Turn it up man!" Lyr grinned as he cranked the knob on the shop stereo all the way up. Iron Man played so loud that it seemed the walls were shaking with it. Stomping in time to the beat, Lyr made his way back to the Chevy Cheville he was working on, picked up a ratchet with a twirl and went back to work, singing as loudly as the rest of the crew.
They all laughed when Rob, one of the other mechanics, grabbed a large wrench off his tray and air guitar-ed it. They laughed even harder when it slipped from his greasy grip and landed squarely on his toe. "Hey Rob what do you call that dance? The one legged man?" More laughter circulated at Arnie's crack.
"No I call it the Damn Wrench." With that Rob grabbed the offending tool and strangled it for a moment before turning back to his project. "Hey Lyr!" Lyr turned in time to catch the wrench as Rob negligently tossed it to him. "Give us a drum solo kid!"
With a grin and a flourishing twirl of both ratchet and wrench, Lyr began to tap on the Cheville's engine and hood. He got into the music more and more, putting more and more enthusiasm into his blows until..."VARO!" The music abruptly stopped and Lyr dropped the tools with a guilty look at the quarter sized dent in the Cheville’s hood.
With an apologetic smile on his face Lyr walked back over to where his boss, Tim, stood to take the credit for the accident. "Hey Tim I'll..."
"You'll fix it later. Right now there are a couple of guy's outside that say they need to talk to you urgently about something." Lyr craned his neck to the side, looking over Tim's head and through the door to the front of the shop and out the shop windows. Instantly his whole body tensed into fight or flight mode.
There was only one reason Carmine Giottie and Vito Leone would be waiting for him. The whole shop had sensed his reaction and they all knew him well enough to know trouble when it hit. "Cover me." Now they were worried. In an attempt to lighten the mood Tim cracked a joke.
"Hey Lyr. Next time you mess around with an Italian girl use a condom." The whole shop burst out laughing and Lyr cracked a grin over his shoulder. But when he turned back around and faced the street he had the look of a man that would take matters into his own hands and the Devil be damned.
The two men leaning against the black Lexus were discussing the anatomy of a female friend when Lyr emerged from the darkness of the shop. Well connected these guys might be but they'd never really gain rank, Lyr could tell. They'd never get anywhere when a person could read their faces like a book. And right now those books were saying 'Oh shit, plan A ain't gonna work.'
"Are you Lyr? We're..."
"I know who you are slime-ball. I want to know why you're here." They jittered nervously.
"It's about your brother." Lyr was listening. He took a menacing step forward. He hadn't meant it to be menacing but when you're 6'6", 265 pounds, are in a bad mood, happen to be wearing a tight t-shirt that says 'I can bench-press you', and that shirt happens not to be lying, then anything you do seems menacing.
"What about Ian." The pair exchanged a glance that said 'Who's telling him' before Carmine spoke up.
"Well I hate to give you bad news but...he's been shot." Lyr's legs turned to Jell-O but nothing showed on the surface. There were three possibilities: one, he'd been shot on accident; two, he'd been shot by rivals; three, he'd been shot on purpose. All of them were bad but that last one scared the shit out of him.
They wouldn't kill his brother; Ian was too valuable to them. If they killed him they had very slim chances of finding a man with his particular 'talents'...unless. A thought struck him that chilled him to the core. Unless they'd figured out that Lyr could do it too. Then they might have just gotten rid of Ian when he'd become difficult.
Or they were just telling Lyr this to get a hold of him and use him to make Ian do something he really didn't want to do. Using Lyr's safety as leverage. If they did that his brother would cave. Ian would fold like a deck of cards and go to any imaginable length to keep Lyr safe.
All these years of getting stronger had done nothing to allay his elder brother's fears that, one day, Lyr would be taken down. Done nothing to convince Ian that Lyr wasn't a kid and didn't need to be protected. But Lyr was smart, tough, and strongly motivated by self-preservation. He had no intention of being taken like a little lamb...lion maybe. "What hospital?"
The thugs looked at him. "We can take you."
"WHAT HOSPITAL!" They pressed back against the Lexus.
"Angel of Mercy." Lyr gave a curt nod and turned back into the shop. The two got into the car and sped off. Inside the shop the guys all tried to look like they'd been busy minding their own business, not like they'd been eavesdropping like they had. Tim tossed him his coat and he fished his keys out of his pocket.
"Good luck kid. Ian's tough, he'll pull through." Lyr turned and nodded. "If there's anything you need..." Lyr looked his boss straight in the eye so there could be no mistaking his words.
"Yeah boss. If I'm not here tomorrow and I don't call to let you know how Ian's doing...call the cops." Leaving the crew stunned Lyr rushed down the block to the parking garage where his Cuda six pack sat waiting. He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. A cold, hard, point of steel pressed up against the back of his head and the unmistakable click of the hammer going back could be heard.
"Drive kid. Don't ask questions just drive." Lyr glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled at the eyes behind the ski mask.
"If you're going to point that thing at me then you better kill me. I'm not going to be used as a bargaining chip." The ski mask seemed to smile.
"I didn't think so." Almost before Lyr could react the cloth was pressed to his face. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform washed over his senses and the world spun into blackness.
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Later that evening...
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Ian was comfortable in the interrogation room waiting for Detective Romotto to return. When his cell phone went off he felt it was time for a little well deserved bragging. He'd made it, and they were gonna burn. He'd see to it.
"What's up bitch?" The voice on the other end chuckled.
"Now, now, my fiery friend, is that any way to talk to me?"
"I'll talk any way I damn well please. After all I've been talking to the cops for the past two hours." Again the chuckle.
"Have you. Well then I guess I should invite you to the little party I'm having. We'll celebrate your victory together. You're brother's all ready here." Ian's heart skipped one beat, then two, then six. They had Lyr. His mouth went dry. "Hello? Ian? Are you still there?"
"Y..yeah..." He swallowed hard several times, trying to get the warble out of his speech as he gripped the phone tightly. His voice hadn't cracked so much since puberty. Another god damned chuckle in his ear.
"Good. I've got a car waiting for you outside. If you get in now everyone should go home happy. Or we can play rough. I'm sure your little brother will understand...or is he your big brother? I'm not sure which one of you is the more mature. You claim to be older but he seems to be more of a man." There was a long silence as he walked out to where the car waited.
The door popped open for him and the voice on the phone asked the question "Well?" He swallowed hard. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
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What is he going to do?
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Hope you like it.
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"Music makes you braver."
Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Tue Jun 26, 2007 3:54 pm; edited 19 times in total
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 8:12 pm Post subject: |
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Another Rai tale!  Less typos than usual too, though still some you need to fix.
I would say first, how does he know they aren't bluffing? Ask to speak to his brother.
Second, once he has established they aren't bluffing ask for an exchange. They have the two of them, they may also kill* the two of them. At least this way his brother gets away.
*Well, maybe not kill. I don't know what special ability they have, and how useful they are, but please tell me they are not werewolves or vampires.
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LordoftheNight
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 3:31 am Post subject: |
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Well, from the title, I would assume he was either a Phoenix in mortal form, someone with the powers of phoenix, or just a fire-starter.
First ascertain that they actually have Lyr - ask to talk to him, something like that. Then offer to make the trade, but only if they can prove it.
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Ave Dominus Nox
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chiacutie
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 3:58 am Post subject: |
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I F5 lordy. If you don't have it worked out what he is (I don't know, maybe oyu do maybe you don't... Im not a mind reader (or am I...DUN-dunnnn-DUUUUNNNN!!!!)) then Id go with the powers of a pheonix thing that would be cool...
So, like lordy and chin said, ask to talk to his brother. Then... I don't know, a trade sounds good to me, but maybe someone else can ocme up with something really creative (no offense lordy, its a very good idea, but I mean like...like shady, with her random spurts of genius)
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ninja baloon
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 5:18 am Post subject: |
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| Maybe he's just a mortal that can't die until his job is done. Chosen by some higher being. Everytime he dies he is brought back to life. Of course he would try an avoid death as I would assume it to be unpleasant.
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The White Blacksmith
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 7:30 am Post subject: |
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I F5 people in that he shopuld ask to talk first, then let the police put a small, unnoticable tracker on him secretly.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 9:59 am Post subject: |
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First off, to answer China's question, this story does not involve werewolves or vampyres. I've already got those stories going. To answer the whole, what makes Ian special, he's a firestarter, as Lordy guessed.
However the title is going to be throwing you in a loop for a while since the Phoenix has nothing to do with the tale at this point in time, other than being a really cool tattoo on Lyr's chest. If all goes well it will show up later...
Thanks guys and keep the ideas coming. The poll would be a little one sided at this point so I'm going to leave it here for another couple days for more people to come see and chew on.
Enjoy. 
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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chiacutie
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| Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 3:49 pm Post subject: |
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No. Lyr's special power is that he can turn into a chicken.
Just an idea.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 8:19 am Post subject: Re: PHOENIX- Burn One: Tinderbox |
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[quote="Kalanna Rai]
Unless they'd figured out that Lyr could do it too.
[/quote]
Hope that answers that question...The chicken thing just wouldn't fit in the plot. This one isn't funny although there's humor in everything I do.
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JezSharp
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| Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 10:29 pm Post subject: |
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| Well I'd go with the first three choices of the poll (actually only first and third are really necessary). I went for i) as that is what I'd do first then get the cops to put a tracking device on me.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 11:34 pm Post subject: |
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Right, anyone out there feel like casting a tie breaker for me? I get headaches trying to break them myself.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Aug 14, 2006 10:53 pm Post subject: |
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Last call for votes. I've still got a tie going I can easily write a chappy involving both of those plot options and hopefully get it moved to one of the SG forums...unless some meteor from space destroys my comp...
What? It could happen...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 12:16 am Post subject: |
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Warning this chapter contains graphic images. Not for younger readers..You Have been Warned! That said...Enjoy.
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Burn Two: Life to Ashes
Ian mentally slapped himself. Here he was standing outside a cop shop letting himself be intimidated. How the hell did he know they had Lyr? They might just be saying that, playing on his worst fears, trying to make him cave and come with them. Well he wasn't going to play the game by their rules anymore. "Listen here asshole! You're the one with your dick in a sling, not me. I'm not going anywhere until you prove to me you've got Lyr." Another faint chuckle echoed through the phone.
"You can try to speak to him...I'm not sure he feels like talking at the moment though." There was a rustling noise in the background some faint music that sounded familiar but he couldn't place the song, and voices with words he couldn't make out. Then heavy breathing filled the phone.
"Lyr." No response, only the steady intake of breath. In. Out. In. Out. A dull thud, the sound of meat hitting meat, broke the breathing. A grunt of pain, then the painful hiss of a controlled intake.
"Say something asshole. That's your brother." Ian recognized the voice. Nicolo Leone, Vito's older brother. You were very unlucky if he was giving you any kind of special attention since that usually ment losing a limb or some other body part you were partial to. More hits, more grunts, the sound of spit flying and a hard slap. "He ain't gonna talk boss."
"That's alright, it's a camera phone. You know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words." The sounds died away as the phone moved again. "Say cheese." An instant later Ian's phone buzzed telling him he'd gotten a message. "I'll hold while you take a look. See if it's anyone you know." With trembling fingers Ian depressed the button, opening his mail.
"No." It was little more than a whisper, spoken as his legs gave out under him, letting him sink bonelessly to the wet stone steps under him. The picture was clear, or as clear as a phone picture could be. A young man's face exposed to the camera by a black gloved hand gripping his sweat-soaked red hair. Another message buzzed his phone. He almost didn't want to open it but he had to. Call it what you will but he needed to see that image. And it banished beyond all doubt that the man they held was his little brother Lyr Varro.
The picture was a clear depiction of his ink, the tattoo of a six winged Phoenix. It couldn't have been anyone else, there wasn't another piece of ink like that in the world. The head of the bird, with it's flaming crest, centered in the hollow of Lyr's throat, first two wings tracing over his pecs and wrapping up over his shoulders, two long streamers of flame meeting over the bird's head.
The middle wings flaired out and wrapped around his sides, the last two arcing down and tracing the last ribs on his ribcage. The body of the bird flowed into an arching tail of fire that twisted, wrapping around onto itself so that, when you stood back and looked, a hidden infinity symbol stood out of the twisting flames. Ian wasn't mistaken, couldn't be. Lyr had had that tattoo since he was fourteen. It had been one of those things he'd done to try and show Ian he was strong...brave...stupid.
"Hello? Ian? Mr. Varro are you still there?" He fumbled with the phone for a moment placing it to his ear with hands that badly shook...god he needed a smoke. "Well Mr. Varro?"
"Gimme fifteen minutes. Please. I gotta recant my story...tell them I made it up or some shit. If I just vanish...well you know cops..." There was a long pause then the door of the car infront of him shut and the car drove off having been given it's instructions. Ian sighed, he had gambled for time and won.
"I'll call you when the car returns. For Lyr's sake I would not do anything stupid Ian." The phone went dead as an audible snap cut off the conversation. Ian stood and nearly sprinted back into the Precinct. He darted back into the room where Detective Romotto sat waiting.
"Where'd you go? Take a smoke? You look like you need another one" Ian slammed his hand on the table.
"No time man! You have to help me!" Romotto held his hands up as if to say 'whoa' or something along those lines.
"Easy now. I'm..." Ian reached across the table and grabbed the Detective's shirt with both hands. He yanked the man clean out of his chair so that the tips of his polished brown loafers scraped the harsh tile floor. Ian was a big man, 6'3", 285lbs, and at the moment all of that muscle was directed at saving his little brother...It had been since their parents had died when Lyr was twelve, leaving an eighteen year old Ian to take care of him alone.
With tears standing in his eyes he screamed at the man in front of him. "You don't get it! My little brother's life is at stake!"
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Elsewhere...
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Lyr glared at the well dressed man with the phone, eyes still stinging from the flash and the sweat that was running into them. He watched as the man, now with an oily smile, wandered away, talking to Ian on the phone. The guy holding his hair tightened his grip and pulled Lyr's neck back to an even more acute angle, till he was staring into the man's dead brown eyes. "Kid face it. Nothing you can do is gonna change the outcome of tonight."
His head was sharply shoved forward and his tormenter stalked away to where a group, including the two who'd come to the shop, sat playing Go Fish. "Kid too tough for you Nicolo?" Vito grinned at his older brother. There was none of the love between them that existed between Lyr and Ian, instead a nasty rivalry had supplanted it. It was funny actually, since Vito looked like the first strong breeze would knock him over while Nicolo was a steriod poster boy.
"Tough? Him? Ha that's pretty funny. He's one of those boys that goes to the gym so that he looks good for the ladies...couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag." Actually Lyr had over ten years of training in the Martial Arts and Boxing...fight his way out of a paper bag maybe not but he could send anyone's nose into their brain with a well placed jab. Nicolo walked back over to him. "Isn't that right kid? All those muscles from protein shakes and chicken dinners."
"Oh yeah that's the answer. Is that the reason you tied me up with piano wire instead of rope like anyone else." A stiff backhand to the face made him thankful he'd always taken care of his teeth. If he'd had fillings they'd have been knocked free by now.
"Smart ass! We don't want you to suddenly break free once your brother gets here. That metal won't burn like rope will." True but if Ian really put his mind to it the thin wire wouldn't be much of a barrier either. Come to think of it if he wasn't so concerned about them finding out he'd also inherited the family 'Talent' he'd have already left. Maybe he should have anyway. Ian was going to the cops so it wasn't like they'd have been sticking around.
"Right, that's an easy excuse. You're just worried that an upstart 'kid' might be able to upstage you. What do you press? Ten...twenty miligrams?" The guys at the card table had stopped playing.
"Ooooh."
"I think the kid's taunting you Nick." Lyr smirked.
"That's right Nicki. Gonna let some punk tied to a chair upstage you?" Nicolo was almost there, almost to the breaking point of doing something incredibly stupid, like letting Lyr have use of his hands, when the man in the suit walked back in.
"The pidgeon is on the way. He'll be here in twenty minutes. See that the kid's ready to see his older brother." Nicolo nodded to the boss before turning to face Lyr, cracking an unusual amount of joints. An evil smile lit up his face.
"Well now. Lets see just how much pain you can take kid." The Boss laid a hand on Nicolo's beefy shoulder.
"Don't kill him. We still need him alive when Ian gets here." Despite his nod it didn't look like this new order had dimmed Nicolo's furvor any. He picked up a pair of wires that were attached to a battery, tapping the ends together to show Lyr they had live current.
"Shit."
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Eleven-ten p.m.
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They dragged Ian into the building, the usual abandoned warehouse used in most situations such as this, and took him into his own private 'room' where they hung him from a chain suspended by meat hooks in the ceiling. He'd already recived the beating of his life in the car, his legs might never work properly again, and now they broke out the bladed weapons. The next half hour was hell, as both hot and cold knives kissed his skin, teasing the layers apart.
"You know this really isn't our usual thing. Normally we'd just put a bullet in your head and dump you somewhere but hey, the boss needs you too badly. You're special, unique, you can start fires with your mind man, how freaky is that? You could have been a boss one day, would have been a boss one day, now you're going to be dog-shit on a leash." Ian couldn't even scream, his voice too raw from previous cries, as they drug the knives down his arms for the last time, etching TRAITOR into his skin for eternity.
Then they dragged him off the hooks, savagely stuffing him back into his clothing, dragging him back through the warehouse. Where the hell were the damn cops! Why hadn't they already come bursting in like gangbusters, no pun intended? Did they get held up at the Krispy Cream? A door suddenly burst in, kicked hard as a familiar voice bellowed "Freeze!"
For a moment Detective Romotto stared eye to eye with the pair of thugs dragging Ian before all three of them burst out laughing. Ian couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Romo! You made it!" Romotto walked over and kneeled in front of Ian.
"You really did a number on him. He looks like the shit he is now." Paying no attention as Ian attempted to get his lips to work, he fished around in Ian's pockets. "Ah here it is." He pulled a small silver object from the pocket of the much battered bomber. Then he totally dashed Ian's last hope. He flipped it open and lit the cigarette that he'd pulled from the pack in his own coat. Blowing the smoke in Ian's face he smiled. "Had you going didn't I dumb shit. Boys he thought my Zippo was some sort of top secret tracking device. Can you believe that shit!"
Tears began to silently slide down Ian's cheeks, there was no shame in it now, he'd doomed Lyr for sure. His tormentors and the crooked cop talked over his head the entire way down the hall, finally slamming him in a wooden chair at the end. A curtain spread across the space infront of him, stopping him from seeing what else might be in the room. "Well Ian, here we are." Ian looked up to where the Boss was standing.
"I'm sorry."
"You certainly look that but I know this little lesson in physical pain won't be enough to enforce our message. You'll talk again, the next time you get. So I've arranged for a little present for you." He nodded to the shadows, one of which proved to be Nicolo holding a bundle with a pink bow on it. "Go ahead, open it." Ian stared at the package for a moment before trying to force his battered hands to untie it.
Eventually he gave up, his fingers were all either broken or useless at the moment, and used his teeth to undo the bow. Then he fumbled it apart and froze. There, laying still warm in his hand, was a freshly severed human tounge. "That would be a fitting punishment for you but, alas, who knows if removing your speech would damage your 'ability'. Recognize it?" Ian turned his head swiftly to the Boss who only smiled and pointed ahead of him.
The curtain suddenly raised and there, tied to a chair on the other side of it, was Lyr. His hair, or what was left of it, dangled in scraggly strips, his head, no his entire upper body slumped like a man with no will left to go on. "Lyr?" He managed to choke out the name. The head slowly raised, the clear grey eyes of his younger brother boring into his hazel ones. Blood, bright red and wet, trickled from the corners of his mouth, electrical burns, like silver dollars on golden skin, glimmered on arms, legs, and thighs although the tattoo had been spared. Respect. "You bastards."
"He wasn't much of a talker anyway, didn't even scream enough. I don't think he'll miss it much." Ian looked back to Lyr who gave a half hearted smile and shrugged. All things considered a tounge was a small price to pay. Ian looked back at the boss.
"Alright, you've got me. You've made your point, the lesson has," he looked at Lyr and swollowed hard. "Been taken to heart. Now let the boy go and tell me what you want me to do." The Boss made a gesture with his hand and the two thugs that had 'entertained' him so far this evening dragged him backwards out of the room.
"No! Lyr!" His outstreched hand trembled in the faint light before the darkness of the hall swollowed him. They drug him outside before throwing him onto the hood of a car, his mangled right arm coming to rest on the blower. His cheek to the paint he recognized Lyr's Cuda, his baby. The Boss walked over, looking him up and down. "Boss you've got to take care of him. I don't know much about the body but cutting out his tounge...Lyr will bleed to death. We need to get him into a hospital...we need to take care of him."
The Boss nodded again. "Sit him up." Hands gripped him and he was pulled into a sitting position. The Boss smiled at Ian as Ian pointed, pleadingly, toward the warehouse. "Oh don't worry Ian. We'll take care of him." He pulled what Ian thought was a pen from his pocket. It wasn't until he saw the red button on top he realized what it was. Ian screamed wordlessly into the night as the red button on the wireless detonator was depressed and the warehouse exploded with the force of ten pounds of C-4.
---------------------------
Midnight
-------------------
Lyr knew what was coming. He tilted his head upward as the gangsters left him, running like rats from a sinking ship. His prayer, silent, mute, seemed to echo louder in his own head than any he had prayed before. 'Dear God, let not my death be in vain.' The explosion came, the fire, his fire, roaring before it.
In the seconds before he was vaporized, instantly turn from life to ashes, he screamed into the flames. In his mute voice his cry of rage echoed. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"
--------------------------
Lyr's Condo
-------------------
Ian sat in a tub of lukewarm pink water, clothes still on. The image of the explosion was still etched into his brain. They'd made him watch, sick bastards, until the fire sirens had scared them off. With so much power unleashed there was no doubt in his mind nothing was left of Lyr. Lyr. He sobbed. Memories flitted past his eyes.
Baby brother always tagging along, messy, sticky, hands into everything they shouldn't be. Little brother always wanting to do whatever Ian was doing, wanting to play with the big kids. Younger brother standing dry-eyed at their parents graveside, quietly slipping his hand into Ian's own, squeezing and letting Ian know he wasn't alone. Kid brother coming home after missing for three days, the tattoo on his chest gleaming with Vasaline. Brother blocking the door a week ago when the gang had come looking for Ian, threatening them until they left Ian in peace. Older brother moments ago, dying a death that should have been Ian's own.
A razor blade sat on the tub's edge, had been Ian's key to rejoining his brother. But his hands were too damaged to weild the weapon, his body too battered to allow himself the release of suicide. Now as he lay in the colder water, feeling the sting of soap in his badly stitched wounds, the boys had seen to that much, he turned his thoughts down a different path.
He made the choice to live, live in Lyr's honor, live to spite the men who had killed him. He was going to continue because if Lyr had been strong enough to die, Ian was strong enough to live. Yet he knew, instinctively, that Lyr would have known trouble was coming the moment he saw any members of the gang. That ment that he'd probably left instructions with somebody somewhere telling them what to do if Lyr didn't contact them tonight or tomorrow at the earliest. He looked at his watch, blessing water-proof for all it was worth, and realized that tomorrow was today.
He had to come up with a cover story, a lie to explain Lyr's abscence fast.
-----------------------------
What's he going to tell everyone?
--------------------------
Hope you like it.
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Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Wed Sep 20, 2006 11:32 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Aug 20, 2006 8:24 pm Post subject: |
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Right the poll is closed, the second chapter is written. Now all I need are your thoughtful comments on where to send my 200F. *pulls out bag of gold and looks around thoughtfully.*
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Aug 20, 2006 8:40 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | He had to come up with a cover story, a lie to explain Lyr's abscence fast. |
I am a smidgeon confused. Why does he have to explain Lyr's absence again?
Anyway, nice chapter, seemed much better spelling-wise too, though you got 'tongue' wrong.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 12:13 pm Post subject: |
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There are three reasons he has to explain Lyr's abscence rather than tell the truth.
First, he wants revenge. He wants to bring down the bastards that did this himself. He no longer trusts anyone, since the cops have proven themselves worthless, and doesn't want others interferring with his 'mission'.
Second, he doesn't want people snooping. If he just says Lyr died there's bound to be questions, from friends and people who knew the pair of them. Plus he knows that Lyr would have some sort of plan in place, somebody doing something if they didn't hear from him. He can't afford to have somebody put up a Missing Persons bulletin.
Third, who's going to believe the truth? Take a moment to imagine how it would sound. 'Uh yeah my little brother was whacked by the mafia when I refused to keep lighting fires with my mind for them.' He'd be committed.
In Ian's mind it's a much better thing to explain Lyr's vanishing on something else. To him telling the truth would only bring things to a halt.
Maybe I should have explained this but all you need to know is that he's not thinking rationally. He's rather disturbed at the moment and is only thinking about getting back at the goons not about what the logical thing to do is.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Aug 30, 2006 4:14 pm Post subject: |
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Well this thread seems to have died, making it a safe bet the SG would as well. I'll try this idea again later, after I've done some editing and such.
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Wed Aug 30, 2006 4:26 pm Post subject: |
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| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | Well this thread seems to have died, making it a safe bet the SG would as well. I'll try this idea again later, after I've done some editing and such. |
Don't give it up Rai. The stories in Start Here are often not commented on much, and the whole site seems to have been very quiet the last week too.
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JezSharp
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| Posted: Wed Aug 30, 2006 10:54 pm Post subject: |
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Yes I f5 China it has been very quiet this last week  ...hmm there must be a whole variety of explanations that he can come up with...
The simple one is that Lyr was working for the special forces in another country and so the details of his death are classified - the body was apparently never found - the best explanations are always at least half truthful.
For a more truthful explanation he could say that due to unforseen and unexplainable circumstances beyond his control Lyr had to leave the area for another place and is unlikely to be returning in the near future.
He could also make up any range of tempory excuses such as He's on a very long recuperation holiday or he's gone insane and been shipped to a a world famous Swiss medical institute or ... anyway something along those lines.
Hope that's at least a small help in generating idearium for the next poll.
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| Posted: Mon Sep 11, 2006 11:10 pm Post subject: |
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Regularly I would say that his bro was blown to bits...but in a serious note, I would just say he left the country under classified details. If they don't believe that.
Tell them he burned up, lol.
Sorry I couldn't give more helpful suggestions, but yeah. I'm really tired right now.
*yawns*
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Fri Sep 15, 2006 12:32 pm Post subject: |
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Looks like a good story. Haven't finished the second chapter yet, but there's a lot of action. I'll have to finish to comment more.
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 Chapter 5: The Rendezvous 
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| Posted: Fri Sep 15, 2006 8:06 pm Post subject: |
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I'm still not sure why we can't simply say- Gangsters killed my brother.
I think he should just say the truth, ommitting his powers. The more people to help him the better.
Also, the last sequence was somewhat confusing. Try to make things clearer. 
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Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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Geek_girl72
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| Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 6:08 am Post subject: |
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I'm finished reviewing this now, I could only find a few typos/grammer errors, but overall it's pretty solid. I woudl suggest less commas and more sentaces. The longer lines can be just a bit confusing.
Good detail, interesting characters, strong plot, a very good start.
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But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, it gives a lovely light!"
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Whodunnit?On hold till further notice
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:07 am Post subject: |
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Thanks. I'll keep your advice in mind for the future chapters GG!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Sep 27, 2006 12:28 pm Post subject: |
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Hey everyone! Don't be stragers now that we've moved here to Skiffy!. The new poll is up and the new chapter can only happen after you vote!
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| Posted: Wed Sep 27, 2006 11:51 pm Post subject: |
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| Went for Lyr left the country as it's at least sort of true.
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2006 2:17 pm Post subject: |
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If we don't want people asking questions, we need to make it clear that he's dead. Call it an accident, have a funeral, then get some justice in the semblence of the lesson Ian was given (which should have them pissing themselves considering the crap they just did). I was thinking a car accident (into a gas truck maybe) would be a convenient way to explain Ian's own wounds and the situation that lead to Lyr's death at the same time.
Voted
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| Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2006 1:22 pm Post subject: |
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Excuses, excuses...Enjoy...
---------------------
Burn Three: Sensation of Warmth
One Year Later...
------------------
Word had hit the streets that the Varro boys had been in a terrible accident. Lyr had just picked up his brother, Ian's injury hadn't been critical just a shoulder wound, when they'd run into a tanker truck on the way home.
The resulting explosion had landed Ian in the hospital for serious injuries, no questions asked about the etchings of 'Tratior' or the horrible stich job, and Lyr had been reduced to ashes, his body incinerated.
The only part of the whole thing Ian regretted was having to sacrifice the Cuda. If Lyr were still here he would have killed him but it was alot easier to make people think that Lyr had been incinerated than it would have been to think that Lyr had been driving a different car.
There had been the out pouring of sympathy, people had been fond of Lyr. He'd been given more gift baskets and cash than ever before in his life. It hadn't been like this when his parents died. They'd been given sympathies and cards, a little cash here and there, but mostly left to fend for themselves. Yet his little brother had brought him an almost fame.
Ian looked out the window. They guys at the garage had given the best tribute though. Another Cuda six pack, lovingly restored, and painted exactly the same. They'd used photos of Lyr to get the details right and Ian couldn't tell the difference. It sat under a dust cover in Lyr's old parking spot, waxed every Sunday just like Lyr used to.
Call Ian obsessed but he'd given up his own appartment to live in Lyr's condo. Not one thing had been changed, not one item moved or removed. Ian lived his life around Lyr's stuff, around the memory of Lyr. Tonight he was going to the empty lot where Lyr had died to hold a vigil. Nothing had been done to the site after they had bulldozed the charred ruins of the old warehouse. The Boss had even given Ian the deed soon afterwards as a joke.
Some joke. The bastard won't be laughing long. Three more nights and then... Ian whistled a happy tune as he washed up his breakfast dishes. He had a free day today, a rare thing now that the boys were running him ragged. Ian was lower than dirt in the ranks now. He could be called at any time of the night to preform any task, even one as mundane as taking out the trash.
With a last swipe of the dry cloth Ian put the dishes back. He'd insisted Lyr do this, mostly because he hadn't wanted to. Lyr had always been a little like a maid for Ian growing up, always picking up after his older brother. Ian regretted that but then he regretted alot of things these days. Mostly he regretted the wasted time.
All that cleaning up had had an effect though. Lyr had become a bit of a neat freak, a real homebody. Some might have called him metrosexual with all of his tidy issues inculding his own personal hygine standards. For a mechanic that was pretty funny but Lyr always used to say 'Just because I smell fruity don't mean I am fruittie.' Ian grinned at the memory.
Putting the last of the dishes away he was just shutting the cupboard door when his cellphone rang. He frowned recognizing the number. "Yeah?"
"I gotta job for you Traitor. Be at the pier in ten minutes." The caller hung up leaving no room for argument. Ian ground his teeth and glanced at the clock. It was only ten there was still the whole day before midnight when he'd hold his vigil. Come hell or high water he'd be at there.
It was a quick change of clothes for him and a swipe of comb through hair. Shrugging into a jacket, not his favored old bomber but a new second hand jacket he'd bought to replace it, he grabbed keys and phone and was out the door, locking it behind him.
------------------------
Seven-twenty p.m.
------------------------
Ian was so mad flames were dancing in his hair...literally. His own private updraft circled around him ruffling his hair and clothing and making him seem demonic. The two bully boys that had been bossing him around all day backed up a step. The had just realized that, despite the punishment he'd undergone, Ian was a very dangerous man. Or maybe it was because of the punishment.
"Tell me again very slowly...what do you want me to do?" They looked at one another. Realizing that he could very well kill them and then pass it off to the boss as some kind of freak accident. The Boss wouldn't believe him but in truth what more could they do to Ian Varro except kill him?
"We...uh...we uh...." Ian leaned in cupping a hand to his ear. "We want you to stand watch while we go out." Ian nodded his head.
"That's what I thought you said...but when did you say you'd be back?"
"We didn't." Ian smiled again.
"Well I've got no problems with watching the door but get this." Winds that had a temperature of ninety degrees whipped outwards from Ian. The bully boys were growing hotter by the minute. Ian stepped forward. "You two had better have your asses back here before eleven or I'm going to see how well you like being fried feet first."
They nearly tripped over themselves on the way out. Ian sighed, leaning against the door frame. All the fire seemed to go out of him and he just sagged there. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a picture of Lyr. "I'll be there bro...don't worry I'll be there." Rubbing his thumb across his brother's face he wiped away the tears that had sprang to his eyes. Vengence could't come too soon.
------------------------
Midnight
-----------------
The warehouse lot was deserted and Ian was still across town. The boss had called shortly after the boys had released Ian to go. He'd needed him for some special project and wouldn't take no for an answer. Thus the time of the vigil passed...but it did not pass quietly.
One year to the second later, the exact moment Lyr Varro had ceased to exist, a warm wind blew. The sky threatened a major thunderstorm but this wind was something out of a volcanic crater. Hot and dry it whirled around the site twice before focusing into a vortex over the site of Lyr's ashes.
Slowly the ashes rose, shedding dirt as they whirled upwards into the air. They began to compact, forming the skeleton of a tall man in his twenties. Slowly more ash formed tendons and blood vessels, yet more covering the bare bones with muscel tissues. This was a muscular young man. From a little distance away a small pile of ash formed a toung and attached in the young man's mouth.
Skin crept over the flesh, ash turning golden for a moment then becoming ash pale again. Long hair twisted out of more ash, charred black flashing brillaint flame red before becoming black again. He seemed to be nothing more than a sketch in black and white, his colors drained away.
Slowly the floating figure touched the ground, standing tall just as the heavens split open. Rain poured onto the shambling figure that blinked water out of it's cold grey eyes. On it's chest...the tattoo of a six winged phoenix gleamed damply the only patch of color remaining.
----------------------------------
Six a.m.
----------------------
He woke and stared at his ceiling for a moment. Then he scrambled around patting arms, chest, running his toung along his teeth. Just a dream...a damn dream.
"Oh it wasn't a dream sweetie." Lyr whipped his head around, catching a sight of black hair flying. Sitting on the edge of his bed was the figure of an attractive young woman. The only catch was she was completely see through, like a bad image in a photograph or a Ghost.
"Oh I'm no ghost sweetie, I'm like you a Revenant." Lyr stared at his hands again...they were ash pale. He tried to speak but only croaking noises came out. The ghost stared at him. "Having trouble talking?" She chewed a nail. "You wouldn't have been decapitated by...no you'd have trouble hearing and seeing as well...Something happen to your mouth just before you died?"
Does having my toung cut out by the mafia count? The ghost nodded.
"That would do the trick. When you come back if you weren't all in one piece when you died you'll have some problems using the separated bits for a little while. Don't worry, you'll be right as rain by tomorrow." Lyr nodded but that still didn't change the fact he was a living dead man.
So what's a Revenant? The ghost sighed and moved around to sit closer to him.
"I'd better tell you everything. A Revenant is a dead person who has been sent back to life by the Creator, don't ask I can't tell you more than that. It's said though that when an innocent dies unjustly, with rightous anger in his heart and vengence in his eyes, that a Revenant will be born."
"There are good Revenants and bad Revenants but they're called something else, I don't know what. A Revenant has the power to avenge him or her self and any others they were trying to protect but the catch is the power is limited. You've only got one week and then..." Lyr leaned forward.
"Then they give you alot of power in one great big clump. Like the week is a trial period and then you get the whole schebang. All that power can vaporize a Revenant, and generally does. If not then you're doomed to fade away as your power runs out. This is not what is happening to me."
"There is a way to escape being vaporized or fading away. You pick a focus, an object to channel all your energy through. All the fantastic beasts of history, dryads, nymphs, fauns, etc. Those were all Revenants. We take on the aspects of that which we focus through. The bad thing is, while we might live forever , if our focus is destroyed so are we. That's the only way to destroy us infact."
"That's why I picked energy as my focus. You can't destroy energy but you can run out of it. To replenish my stock I've got to have energy from someone else. I've got lots of power but I will just fade to nothing if I can't find someone else to share their power with me."
Lyr saw where this was going. At the moment nothing in the world could touch him, he had power that would never run out, and since he currently didn't need a focus he wasn't about to die. Obviously this spirit was her for the simple reason to hook up with him for the energy.
Was he going to let her?
-------------------------
Alot could go wrong if he chooses to do this, or things could go very right. What are your suggestions either way?
------------------------
Hope you liked it folks.
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"Music makes you braver."
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Geek_girl72
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| Posted: Thu Oct 05, 2006 5:56 am Post subject: |
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Well, if he uses her at the last minute to focus with, wouldn't take on her aspects? It seems she needs him more than he needs her, maybe he could use that to get her help...
_________________
"My candle burns at both its ends, it will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, it gives a lovely light!"
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Whodunnit?On hold till further notice
I Don't Believe in Fate: Chapter 13 is now released
Lost n' Spacey On hold till Further Notice
(\__/)
(='.'=)This is Bunny. Copy and paste Bunny
(")_(")into your signature to help him gain world domination.
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2006 2:49 pm Post subject: |
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Nice resurrection! I was wondering if that was going to happen, or if the name was hinting something else. We'll have to find out more about finding a focus. The ghost seems to have picked a good one. Perhaps we could find something as creative.
Lyr should probably get used to himself and his powers before contacting Ian. And it seems Ian just needs to keep cool (literally) for a while.
Can another person be a focus?
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 9:54 pm Post subject: |
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Yes Lebby another person could be a Focus but here's what you need to understand about a Revenants focus. A quick sneak peak at a passage from chapter four.....
Your focus, if you choose one, will become the most important thing in your life. You see, you're immortal you will live forever and nothing, I mean nothing, will kill you. The only way to destroy a Revenant with a focus is through the focus. Think, in mythology what happened to a dryad who's tree was chopped down...they died. That's right, that's why I picked energy as my focus...thought I was being smart since you can't destroy energy.
But everything comes at a price....
So you see Lebby if Lyr's going to choose a focus he'd better be choosing something that won't be found or destroyed easily...and a person isn't the wisest choice...although it would make for an interesting story since Revenants take on the qualities of their Focus...
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 11:04 pm Post subject: |
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She's a hot chick, do it! She will be grateful no doubt. 
Good chapter Rai, happily devoid of your spelling errors, very readable.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 11:20 pm Post subject: |
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First off China who said she was hot? Second all of you guys are urging him to attach himself to some spirit who's name and motives he has no clue to.
She want's his energy sure and she needs his permission to get it, but are you considering what effect that might have on Lyr himself? I hope so since I'm planning on using your ideas but if you don't supply I have few old stand-by's that should serve well enough...
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 11:28 pm Post subject: |
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| Kalanna wrote: | | First off China who said she was hot? Second all of you guys are urging him to attach himself to some spirit who's name and motives he has no clue to. |
Bound to be.
| Rai wrote: | | She want's his energy sure and she needs his permission to get it, but are you considering what effect that might have on Lyr himself? |
Nah, I don't think that far ahead.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 11:36 pm Post subject: |
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| chinaren wrote: |
Bound to be. |
*sigh* Not all my girls are hot China. She's not some amazon valkiery or anything like that, she's respectibly nice looking but she wouldn't win a beauty pagent or turn any heads. The people in this story are average looking people with extrordinary powers.
Although I might make someone hot just to keep consistancy...and keep certain eye candy based fans happy.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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LordoftheNight
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| Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 3:49 pm Post subject: |
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So far, she seems to be the heroine. Therefore - she must be default be the hottest person there.
Unless of course she intends to complete the ugly duckling transformation, but that brings in whole new realms.
Plus - so far, there's no villainess, meaning the cardinal rule of storytelling (that it appeals to it's readers) states she must be hot.
Don't look at me - I don't write the rules.
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Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
Ave Dominus Nox
A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo Lupi
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A Tale of Four Swords
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 11:57 pm Post subject: |
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No villainess in this story guys, nevermind a hot one. I could work a sort of side villainess in but hey you two are forgetting one thing.
I'm a girl. Therefore I declare that the one hot person in this entire story is...the Hero. The rest are average looking or slightly above. Hot chicks, if and when they appear, will be in menial roles or as breif flings, bimbos, etc.
Still since only one main character is hot there will have to be several eye candy scenes. Luckily we're dealing with the mob here and anyone who's familiar, even in a general way, with them knows they're real fond of hot broads. So never fear gentlemen.
However I want this story based on the tale itself, not on the dirty images in your minds. This isn't Playboy and I'm not a bunny.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Oct 11, 2006 10:54 pm Post subject: |
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Right the new poll is up, do some voting...
P.S. He can't focus right now, not until the moment when he's imbued with power...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2006 10:59 am Post subject: |
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Any more votes out there? I'm closing this poll tomorrow.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2006 12:26 am Post subject: |
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Right I couldn't wait any longer...sorry if you didn't vote. Enjoy...
Warning Language.
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Burn Four: A Twining of Flames
Six ten a.m.
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He wasn't going to do anything just yet. It was too sudden, too soon...hell he shouldn't even be breathing right now, nevermind contemplating everlasting life. I'll have to get back to you on your...issues. Right now I'm in desperate need of a long, hot shower. Without waiting for her to comment he pushed back his covers and swung his legs out of bed. Rummaging through his drawers, why had nothing been moved, he grabbed a pair of cargo shorts and a black tee shirt that said 'Four out of Five Voices in my head say GO FOR IT!'.
Shuffling into the bathroom he shut the door even though he was already naked and was pretty sure the other Revenant could have walked through the door any time she pleased. He turned the hot water on, lathered up, and forgot everything for a moment as he literally scrubbed his cares away...for now.
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Six fourty-four a.m.
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Ian walked into appartment and kicked the door shut behind him cursing hard enough in several languages to make a sailor blush. He dropped the keys on the table...and the two paper bags of groceries hit the floor an instant later as he whipped a black Glock 9mm pistol out of his waistband. "FREEZE PUNK!"
The figure in the cargo shorts and black tee shirt froze in mid action, towel still over head and hairdryer in hand. Ian didn't know how someone had gotten in here, there were no signs of forced entry, but he knew how someone was going out. Under fire. Flames licked his hand and he quickly surpressed them before towel head could notice. A shadow flickered in the bedroom. "You in the room FREEZE!" The shadow stopped.
"Now get out here!" Slowly a figure walked out of the bedroom holding up her hands.
"Oh what are you going to do hero? Shoot me?" Ian could see right through her to the wall behind. To his credit his gun never waved.
What the hell he thought. I'm a freaking pyrokenetic who's to tell me there's no such thing as ghosts. The ghost got a very peeved look on her face.
"Dammit how many times do I have to explain...I'm a freaking REVENANT not some piece of shit ectoplasmic spasm. Damn men! I should have just kept to myself but noooo. I just had to come see the kid that lit up the scene like a freaking nuclear reactor...I had to be greedy." She glared at towel head. "You deal with him and when you two have stopped being morons I'll think about talking to you." With that the huffy ghost stormed back into the bedroom leaving Ian to concentrate on towel head.
"All right bastard. I don't know about Bitchzilla over there but you seem pretty damn mortal to me now why don't you take that towel off your head so I can get a good look at the piece of shit that broke into my house." A hand slowly raised and the towel slowly fell...an instant later so did Ian's gun followed shortly by Ian himself as he sank to his knees. "Lyr?"
It had to be a dream, some twisted, sick excuse for a dream. A nightmare. But he felt pain and his kid brother was still standing there looking at him like 'you think you're have a hard time coping try being the living dead guy'. "Lyr is it really you?" Suddenly Ian sprang to his feet, fire and gun in hand. "Or are you some freak from the Nth dimension posing as my dead brother."
Very slowly 'Lyr' looked around the room his grey eyes serching for something. The more Ian looked the more he was sure it wasn't Lyr. Lyr had red hair and golden skin, this guy had hair like charcoal and skin like ash. Yet when the stranger with the familiar face found a tablet and pen he wrote something very carefully. I can't speak.
"No shit. Playing dumb." 'Lyr' shook his head writing something else. The message astounded Ian.
Remember that time I had food poisoning and you told me it was a flu bug. You brought your girlfriend over...
"And you puked on her...oh God Lyr...it is you." The gun, the pen, and everything else was forgotten as the two brothers nearly crushed each other in a fierce hug. "Do I want to know why you've come back...all freaky and goth-like?" Lyr bent and picked up the writing tools. He thought for a moment before writing down one word...Revenge.
Ian smiled. "That's my little brother."
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Seven thirty a.m.
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Lyr put the hair dryer down and looked at his hair in the mirror. He sighed for the umpteenth time at his reflection. My whole damn wardrobe will look stupid on me. I'm going to have to go goth...yippe.
"Oh it's not so bad. Most of us have to indulge in that look from time to time sweetie. It's almost like it's in the job description." Lyr sighed. The pesky spirit just would not go away. She just hung around, like someone's mother-in-law.
You realize I'm not going to give you anything until I've got a grasp on the situation. She smiled.
"I realize this...do you think I'd tie myself for eternity to some total moron...You've got some brains kid and when you use them people get burned." Lyr made a shushing motion, glancing toward Ian. "You havn't told him? How on earth did you manage to keep a secret like that...from him of all people?" Lyr shrugged.
Where better to hide one fire than in the heart of another? It was true though. He'd kept the secret of his pyrokenesis from Ian since it had woken with the onset of puberty. Lyr grimaced at the memory. Puberty was the ackward moment in everyone's life but you try not only having your voice break, your size suddenly expand, your craving for hot chicks suddenly appear, and have an explosive inner fire suddenly demand more time and concentration than living to control.
It had been hell on ice. Lyr shuddered and twitched even thinking about how close he'd come to total disaster several times. Was it any wonder he'd thrown himself into self defense classes and weight-lifting with a fevered passion? Not really. If he found an outlet for his energy and went to bed drop dead tired every day the fire lay within him like hot coals.
But it had been the ultimate bitch to train alone and in secret. He'd had to take up Auto Shop just to explain the odd singes in his clothes to Ian. Of course cars had become yet another passion in his life because of it. Whatever Lyr's fire touched it seemed to bring out the fullest while Ian's flames...Lyr frowned. His brother had a talent for distruction that Lyr respected.
He knew that his own fires could dwarf Ian's and knew himself capable of even greater havok, that's why he'd kept his powers secret. But he also knew that Ian could never expand anything by burning it. He'd never had any 'burning interests' in his life other than money, women, and keeping Lyr safe. Not that Lyr minded the third but the first two he could have done without.
Sometimes what Ian brought home wasn't worth the effort. Fake blonds that were more plastic than flesh. Dark eyed brunettes that wanted nothing more than a cut of the cash. And bad tempered red-heads that wanted all the attention at Lyr's expense. Then there were the witches with long black hair that latched onto Ian for his power.
And while Lyr hadn't asked questions while he was younger, the older he got the bigger the wedge his older brother's lifestyle drove between them. Lyr was a stay at home, raise and protect a family type guy. Ian was flash, cash and tough guy served on a hot plate. Girls ate him up and tore him up. How many times had Ian warned Lyr not to mess with women, that they were nothing but trouble, only to bring a new girl home a month later.
Still the Varro boy's were thick as theives. They'd never been driven apart and now it seemed death itself had said "Shit. That was a fuck up." and sent Lyr back. As he wandered back out into the living room the spirit blocked him.
"I realize we've gotten off to a bad start and normally I've got more manners than this but...well lets just say that pretty soon I'll be lapsing back into French. My name is Joan and you are Lyr. I'm very pleased to meet you even if you choose to send me away." Lyr returned Joan's curtsey with a stiff bow. It made him feel funny but it seemed the right thing to do.
She followed him back to where Ian lay sprawled on the couch eatin corn chips. Lyr frowned as he brushed the crumbs off his chest and then laughed as Ian instantly broke out the dust buster and sucked them up. Wow I really did have to die to get you pick up after yourself. Ian glared at the cardboard note then laughed at little.
"Oh I've become a regular Lyr clone since you've been gone. It sucked, especially before I healed up." Lyr spared a glance for his brother and shook his head. Having stripped off his jacket the green shirt he wore under it had short sleeves. The satiny scars that wrote the word TRAITOR were visible against his bronzed skin as well as many others. Reminders of the night from hell.
Sorry I wasn't there.
"Yeah me too...but now we've got them. Can you imagine the looks on their faces when you come walking in in a pair of big combat boots with a shot gun over your shoulders. They'll wet themselves." Lyr grinned.
Nah I'll pay them like fore like. An eye for an eye, a burn for a burn. Ashes to ashes they say. Ian looked at him.
"Whoa. I'm not gonna go around torching them little bro. I'm saving the Boss, Mr. Armand Sevetti, himself for the old human candle trick." For a moment Lyr debated keeping his secret then shook his head. It was time to come out of the closet.
Actually I think I'll char them myself. Ian laughed.
"You and what flamethrower." With a snap of his fingers Lyr incinerated the paper, and only that one sheet of paper. Yes his control was that good. For a moment they only stared at each other before Ian muttered one word. "Shit."
Lyr was almost as stunned. He'd felt the flames in the bottom of his soul but he didn't know if his powers would still be intact. He didn't know what made him pyrokenetic, didn't know if death would have robbed him of it or made it stronger. But when that paper ashed relief flooded him. I've still got it. With a dazzling smile he held up a new note for Ian, an idea that had formed in his mind.
The family that preys together stays together.
"You suggest a joining of forces?"
A twining of flames more like. Ian slapped his knee, taking his little brother's newly revealed skill.
"Well this shoots my plans to shit." He ran into his room and came back with a battered folder. Spill the contents out on the table they proved to be notes, reams of notes on fellow mobsters...all people Ian intended to kill. "With your help I'll be able to do so much more. We need a new plan of action."
Lyr listened as his brother outlined groups, captains, lieutenants, and verious thugs. What they did, where they ate, who they slept with, who they had paid off. But both of them decided to hit Vito and Carmine, the boys who had come for Lyr, first. "We'll go tonight. They'll be counting cash at Serpicci's after hours. We'll get them and their dirty money...blood money."
Now all we need is a plan. They studied the blue prints of Serpicci's Fine Italin. Only two options seemed open. One involved lots of brains, the other involved lots of firepower. They eventually settled on one though.
-----------------------------------
What's the plan?
---------------------------------
I'm looking for two things with this DP and you can be as creative as you want, making up floorplans out of whole cloth.
1. How are they getting in?
2. What do they do once in there?
Let the idearium flow...
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"Music makes you braver."
Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Thu Oct 26, 2006 4:43 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 4:53 pm Post subject: |
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Need a few more ideas...who can oblige?
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 5:55 pm Post subject: |
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Hey where did all the readers go? I need more suggestions than just Lordy's Burn them all to death....not that I'm not finding that appealing...
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 8:28 pm Post subject: |
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Well, I think they should start with the minions, burn a few and send the bosses the corpses to put the fear into them. Then go in on full heat.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Nov 13, 2006 12:31 pm Post subject: |
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Right new poll is up. Vote!
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Dec 02, 2006 4:41 am Post subject: |
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With NaNoWrMo behind me I can finally get back to the stories I enjoy writing...like this new chappy. Enjoy...
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Burn Five: Fire Rekindled
Eleven Fifty One p.m.
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"Hey will you hurry up? You'd think you were wearing concrete gloves as fast as you count." Carmine glared acrost the table at Vito.
"Oh hardy har har. I don't see your pile of cash overwhelming my own by any great margin. You want to talk the talk you better walk a little faster." The two thugs snarled at each other in the hidden back room of the high class resturant. Money was being banded, wrapped, and stacked in canvas laundry bags they would haul out later. Nobody else was around, Vito had a spare key to the joint so that they could let themselves out later when they were done.
"Hey Carm, did you turn up the heat." Vito tugged his shirt collar, sweat beginning to trickle down his face. Across the table Carmine didn't seem to be faring much better, looking flushed and damp. He looked up, puzzled.
"No, I thought you might have."
"Well someone has and if I didn't do it and you didn't do it...who the hell?" They stood up overturning their chairs as one wall, the outside wall, exploded in a hail of bricks, morter, fire and smoke. Standing in the center of it all in nothing but a pair of torn jeans and battered sneakers, was Ian Varro.
"Well well...hope I didn't interrupt anything boys." Carmine and Vito both had their revolvers out, Browning Semi-Auto's both, and aimed them right at the man that looked like he had stepped out of hell. His scars shone wetly in the flickering light, dust was settling in his black hair, and fire still danced along his skin in odd flashes. "I just thought I'd drop by and say...I quit."
"You can't quit Traitor. The Boss'll have you dead in a heartbeat...maybe he'll even torch you like he did your brother." The thugs guffawed about that one and a little tich jumped in Ian's cheek. Carmine elbowed Vito.
"Yeah poor Liar...Leer...something like that. But then he was a member of the Fantastic Four. Did you know that Vito? Varro's little brother was a cloest superhero." Vito turned to Carmine with mock surprise in his eyes.
"Which member of the Fantastic Four was he Carmine?"
"Why the human torch of course." Both thugs burst out laughing at what they thought was the total sum of all clever things said ever up until that point in time. However the stopped laughing quickly enough when they noticed that Ian was laughing with them, real warm laughter not something forced or play acted.
"The Human Torch...cute. Now there's someone I want you to meet, call him my term-maker if you want." Slowly, through the swirling smoke and floating brick and morter dust, a massive dark shape moved. Broken bricks clattered every which way as slowly a massive wall of human flesh clad all in black leather shouldered his way through the ruined wall. Vito and Carmine looked at the guy with a strange feeling of deja vu. They'd seen him before. Ian only smiled. "Carmine, Vito...may I present my little brother Lyr Varro...the Human Torch."
With a cruel smile and a snap of his fingers Lyr sent flames outward in an explosion of destructive force, like some massive sledgehammer made only of elemental fire. Before it stainless steel melted, bricks puffed into dush, furniture incinerated, and the two thugs became so much ash.
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Twelve ten a.m.
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The fire trucks rushed to the scene of the massive blaze, which neighbors had described only as a 'massive explosion' and hastily began to put it out. In the massive crowd that gathered to watch stood one massive young man in a black turtleneck and black leather pants. Next to him stood another slightly older young man wearing a leather jacket a few inches to long for him. They exchanged glances and smiles before they wandered off, not noticed as more people crowded forward to watch the resturant burn.
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Seven eleven a.m.
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Lyr groaned as he woke up, a massive headache behind his eyes. He knew he'd been sent back for revenge, when he'd said that it felt so right...although vengance sounded a whole lot better. But he also knew that wasn't the only reason, he'd been sent back to mend other parts of his life too, finish other buisness. He just couldn't think of what it would be. Shuffling into the kitchen he quietly passed Ian on the couch without waking him.
Reaching into the cupboard he pulled down a glass, poured himself some orange juice, and decided to rummage through his closet and see what clothes he could still wear and which ones were Salvation Army fodder. Setting his orange juice down for a moment he turned to grab an apple from one of the hanging mesh baskets they were stored in. A framed photo hanging on the wall caught his eye, a photo of him and his girlfriend Addy Lasky.
He found himself lost in the picture, one Ian obviously liked because Lyr looked absolutly euphoric in the photo, and lost track of time. Where were all the other photos of him and Addy? Gazing around he saw that all of them had been turned around so that the faces were no longer visible, Ian's way of dealing with the pain without changing a thing. Lyr chugged the rest of his orange juice and headed for the closet, a whole new purpose square in his mind.
Opening the slotted wooden sliding doors Lyr stood on tiptoe and slid his arm all the way back along the shelf at the top. In a very dusty corner in the back his fingertips brushed a velvet box, covered in dust by the feel of it. With trembling hands he pulled it forward, bringing it to the light of day for the first time in over a year. Opening it he swollowed hard at the sight of the five carat diamond solitair that had taken him six months to save up for. He'd ment to give it to her, he just hadn't gotten the chance.
With a leaden heart he replaced the box and tried to shove Addy out of his mind. No doubt she'd moved on by now, she'd had a whole year. It wasn't like she wasn't smart, funny, or extremely attractive in all the right ways. It wasn't like she wasn't a warm, caring person who fell in love with every misfortunate stray animal that straggled across her path. It wasn't like she wasn't a brilliant up and coming editor for a popular fashion magazine. Who wouldn't want that in their life...Lyr certainly had.
He walked back into the living room and turned around the photos again, pictures of his life as it had been, as he had been. There were pictures of him and Addy...pictures of him and Ian. There were birthday photos and party photos and a graduation photo that Lyr felt unflattering since he looked rather poorly in his deep plum and grey graduation robes. He was aware of Ian standing behind him from the moment his brother first opened his mouth...Ian wasn't very fresh of breath in the morning.
"Hey little bro how are you?" Lyr flipped him a thumbs up and turned heading for the bathroom. "Yeah well leave me some hot water shower hog. I'm not exactly fresh as a daisy back here." Understatment of the century big brother. You are the whole reason they invented roll on deodorant. A chuckle next to him announce the return of Joan.
She didn't say anything for once which almost took Lyr by surprise. I suppose you're not talking because you can only talk French now eh? To her surprise she nodded. Fair enough. She looked after him a little mournfully but Lyr shook his head. He wasn't ready to commit to anything with her, not even for the sake of conversation. He showered quickly and hopped back out, leaving plenty of hot water and fluffy towels for Ian.
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Eight thirteen a.m.
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Breakfast had been eaten and the dishes cleared now Ian watched the news, especially the clips about the 'mysterious' fire at Serpicci's. Lyr looked out the window and tried to clear his head. But the more he thought about Addy the more he felt like she was part of his unfinished buisness, part of what he had been sent back to see...or do. With Joan speaking in a language he really couldn't understand, it had been a while since high school French, she wasn't going to offer him any helpful tidbits.
Finally when he was unable to stand it anymore Lyr put on a simple black polar fleece and pulled on his boots. I'm going out, back afterwhile. Ian tossed Lyr his spare cellphone. "I'll call you if anything comes up. Have fun and stay out of trouble." Lyr grinned. How much trouble could a dead man get in? Grabbing the keys to the restored Cuda he trotted down the stairs to the parking garage and whipped the dust cover off with gusto. Running his hand over the smooth paint he frowned a bit. This wasn't his car...well not exactly. It was a close look-a-like but not his. Still, it was drivable and close enough for Lyr to not give it more than a second thought.
Fireing up the engine Lyr grinned like a mad man. Time to go see the old places, the old faces. Settling some sunglasses over his eyes he turned on the radio to his favorite rock station and cranked the volume all the way up as Mötley Crüe's Dr. Feelgood came on. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel he drove out of the garage finally enjoying his second chance at life. Now where to first?
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Nine thirty a.m.
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Lyr had stopped for coffee at the little bakery he always bought it from, paying the man and leaving a dollar tip as he sipped his cinnimon almond mocha. Blissful. He was just walking out the door when a young woman bumped into him, nearly causing him to slosh hot coffee all over him. "Sorry." She called back over her shoulder in a worried, hurried tone before she rushed in, grabbed a cup of coffee the man already had waiting with a smile, paid in exact change, and rushed back out cup of coffee raised to her lips.
Lyr had recognized her in a heartbeat and was now standing there tearing himself apart inside. It was just after 9:30, of course Addy would be hear getting her pre-work cup of coffee. He watched her as she brushed back past him without a second glance, eyes closed as she gulped her coffee, not watching where she was going. That was probably why she didn't see the bus as she stepped off the curb. Without thinking, indeed his reflexes were faster than thought, he wrapped an arm around her waist jerking her backward out of harm's way. Then he ran leaving Addy stairing around in complete confusion.
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Eight fourty two p.m.
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Lyr had spent the whole day in the park after the coffee incident this morning, unable to stop himself from shaking. He knew that with only a week on earth it was very foolish of him to spend the whole day sitting on a park bench throwing stale popcorn to pidgeons that only pecked at it because they knew he expected them to. He couldn't get over her, how different she looked, seemed. It's been a year of course she looks different. Not everyone's been dead.
But he remembered the new stress lines that had been stamped on her face, the way her hair frizzed a bit more. She'd never been that rushed before...what had changed? What made her act like it was her first day of work in forever? Lyr couldn't figure it out and kept turning it over and over in his head like some mental rubix cube. The phone in his pocket rang. "Hey bro, I need you home okay? We've got planning to do." Lyr hung up and walked back to the cuda before driving back.
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Nine twenty two p.m.
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Lyr hadn't heard a word Ian had said in the past ten minutes and Ian knew it. Something was eating his brother and eating him big time. He could see it in the set of his shoulders, the way his eyes seemed turned inward and a bit glassy. Maybe letting him spend the day on his own hadn't been such a wonderful idea after all. "Hey Lyr you okay?"
What do you think? Ian smacked Lyr's shoulder. "Wiseass. Now come on. Something's eating you up...what is it." Ian watched as Lyr stood and walked over to the mantle, grabbed a picture, and walked back, tossing it onto Ian's lap with a flick of his wrist. Addy's face stared up at Ian from the silver frame. "Oh damn...I" Lyr held up one finger telling Ian to wait. He came back a little later with something cupped in his hands. He tossed the little black dusty box ontop of the picture. Ian almost didn't have to open it but he did anyway.
"Oh god...you bought a ring. You were..." Lyr held up the 'what do you think' card again. "God little brother...you would have made an honest woman of her. I'm proud." Lyr looked at Ian with a puzzled expression. She doesn't lie Ian. "Well I know but I ment..." Lyr slapped his head, he wasn't a moron afterall. Right he blushed. How did you know? Ian opened his mouth to speak then shut it like a trap.
He doesn't know? Well duh he doesn't Ian you idiot...he's been dead for the past year. He looked at his little brother and gave him a wicked smile. "Intuition." Lyr didn't believe him for one moment. He knew something was up now and he was glaring at Ian. Something flickered behind his eyes and he stood swiftly, donning coat and boots once again, car keys in hand insanely swift. "Lyr wait..." Too late he was gone. Ian slumped back down on the couch.
"Dear god...how will he take it?"
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Ten o five p.m.
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Lyr stared up at the window of Addy's appartment building. He didn't bother hitting the buzzer, the door wasn't locked until 11:00 when old Mr. Jameson finally finished his rounds. He took the steps two at a time until he hit the fourth floor landing. He looked on his key ring until he found the key he was looking for, Addy's spare key she'd given him a lifetime ago. With a slightly trembling hand he unlocked her door and pushed it open, hoping that she was asleep.
He shut the door behind him silently and then turned to examin his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place here in the hallway, a few things changed but nothing big as he moved into the living room. The furnature had been rearranged, a play pin filled with stuffed toys took up one whole corner. That hadn't been in here before...was Addy babysitting now? Pictures of a chubby infant sat on the mantle one was even tucked into a photo of him and her. A feeling of dread hit his stomach.
He looked at the light sockets and saw each one had a little plastic protector in it. The edges of the furnature had soft rubber rounders on them to take away sharp edges. Panic was flooding his system as he walked down the hall on silent feet, creeping past Addy's bedroom. There was a spare room at the end of the hall that Addy used as an office. He slid the door open and stopped dead in his tracks. Being dead had changed his life but what he saw changed everything he stood for.
The room was a nursery complete with framed birth certificate on the wall above the crib. Shaking beyond all control Lyr walked over to that crib and peered inside. The chubby infant from the photos was sleeping soundly in a pair of blue footie pj's thumb in mouth. A cap of bright red hair curled on top of his little head and his skin looked golden in the soft glow of the teddy bear night light. Oh god...
Looking up at the birth certificate Lyr finally lost his battle with gravity and was forced to lean on the crib to stay vertical. His lips moved as air travled up his throat and his voice echoed in the air for the first time since he'd been deprived of his tounge. "Lyr Aren Varro Jr. Born 6/10/06 St. Mary of Charity Hospital. Mother: Addy Mae Lasky. Father.....Father: Lyr Aren Varro Sr."
His breath came in gasps and his head snapped to the side as a small cry caught his full focus. The little boy was awake and going to start squalling in a moment. He looked up at Lyr with big eyes that were already beginning to fill with tears, his little hands waving toward Lyr as if to say 'pick me up'. Lyr wanted to, desperately wanted to hold his son. But he didn't know if he should. Wasn't it better to walk away right now, to walk away and not look back. It wasn't fair to get attached to the little guy when he only had a week...not fair to him or his mother.
Torn with indecision Lyr hesitated a moment. "Why me?"
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What will he do?
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Right, I'm off to bed now. Read and reply if you don't mind.
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Masterweaver
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| Posted: Sat Dec 02, 2006 6:12 am Post subject: |
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Oh, the poor kid!
Love on him, or be a zombie. I think the choice is obvious.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2006 7:51 pm Post subject: |
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New poll is up...vote please.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 3:02 pm Post subject: |
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I really do need a tie-breaker this time since this is a major turning point in the tale. Wouldn't be fair if I just went and made the choice now would it?
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JezSharp
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| Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 3:49 pm Post subject: |
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| Missed a few Chapters here but caught up. He may as well hold his son, if its once it shouldn't make much difference and he may as well wait for Addy.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 5:11 pm Post subject: |
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A big thanks to Jez for breaking the tie! Enjoy.
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Burn Six: Old Flames
Ten twenty five p.m.
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Before the little boy could start squalling Lyr reached down and scooped him up in his arms, supporting the neck and back just like he'd been taught in Health Sciences back in school. Bouncing him slightly he looked around for a bottle of formula or, heaven forbid, a spare diaper. Luckily the little guy needed neither food nor change, he'd just wanted some attention. Instead of fussing and crying he just fixed both of those big baby blue eyes right on Lyr's face and didn't move them.
One chubby infant hand was pressed into his mouth where he was chewing away on it, teething maybe, the other was wrapped around some of Lyr's black hair, tugging a bit. It wasn't too painful for Lyr, nothing at all when you compared it to the sensation of instant cremation. Slowly moving to a rocking chair that took up a corner of the room Lyr sat down, slowly rocking back and forth, back and forth, singing softly to the little boy...his little boy.
A gentle warmth spread though Lyr's body, concentrated along where the infant was laying, to help sooth him. It didn't take more than a couple of minutes before the little tyke dozed back off leaving Lyr smiling slightly over him and still singing, just to be sure. With soft, gentle motions he stood and quietly crossed the room to where the crib lay, empty. He was just leaning over it when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked behind him. "Put the kid down you jerk."
Not wanting to wake the infant Lyr's motions continued without a hitch as he put the baby back in his crib. He wanted to kiss his son goodnight, goodbye actually, but wasn't going to push his luck when it seemed Addy had a loaded gun of some kind aimed at him. "Forgot the baby monitor didn't you asshole. What kind of prick kidnapps an innocent baby huh?" Lyr was still silent, bent over the crib as he tucked the blanket in a little closer to the kid, warming it up with his touch. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
Slowly straightening and shaking his head Lyr's voice was low and calm, yet filled with sorrow. "Why is it that the people I love the most are greeting me with loaded guns?" Turning around he watched Addy's eyes go wider...then the gun went off. There was no booming noise thanks to the silencer that was connected to the end of the barrel, where she'd gotten that he had no idea.
Pain exploaded in his size, like being punched in the ribs by an elephant. He groaned a bit and pressed a hand to his side as the bullet traveled along between two of his ribs and lodged just under the skin of his back. No blood seeped from between his fingers and, strangely, the pain began to fade almost as soon as the bullet stopped traveling. Addy, meanwhile, had pressed a fist against her lips and dropped the gun onto the floor.
Quickly checking that the baby was still asleep Lyr moved slowly across the floor and picked the gun up. "It's alright Addy, it's just me." The fist slowly moved away from her lips and reached out to take his arm. She drew closer, till she was inches away, before slapping him as hard as she could. As badly as the bullet hurt, that slap hurt much worse.
"You...you...asshole. I knew you couldn't be dead, I told myself that for months. I know all about Ian and the Mob, that's why at first I thought it was a hit...that Ian had somehow survived. Then I saw the scars on his arms and knew he turned on them. So I though that maybe you faked your death and went into witness protection while he worked for the FBI or the state...now I know it." Lyr quirked his eyebrows at her. Addy had studied Criminal Justice and Law before finding her passion in fashion. It wasn't far fetched for her to think this way.
Although it was probably the most insane way she could have looked at it. No, scratch that, the most insane way to look at it was what had actually happened. And now I've got to convince her, it's almost worth it to let her think I faked my death. Her hand reached down to where his was still holding his side. "Do you need a doctor Lyr?" Realizing she didn't feel any blood she looked at him. "Are you wearing kevlar?"
"No honey, I'm not wearing kevlar." She pulled his hand away and lifted his shirt. Not much could be seen in the slight light of the teddy bear light so she pulled him into the hall, flipping on a light switch. She gasped as she saw the wound which looked like it was sealing itself closed. She looked up at him. "It's a long story." As the bullet fell into her palm she rolled it to her finger tips and held it up in the light.
"I've got time."
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Midnight
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She sat on the other couch in her pink pj's looking so alone with her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around them. She stared at him with her big blue eyes, dark blond hair pulled in a messy bun on the top of her head. "You don't expect me to believe that do you?" Lyr, who was sitting in the chair across from her, shook his head and spread his hands wide.
"You think it's any easier for me to believe? You don't want to know what the last thing I remember is. Then I wake up in my own bed, in my own appartment and it's like everything was some crazy dream. But it's real Addy, honest to god real." For a moment the two of them sat in silence. Lyr put his head in his hands and Addy chewed on a straggling bit of her hair. "You could always try shooting me again."
"What good would that do?" He looked up at her.
"I'd do anything to prove to you that I'm telling you the truth."
"You told me that the mob wouldn't kill your brother because he had a 'talent' that was too valuble for them to waste. What was that talent." Lyr shook his head.
"You wouldn't believe that either Addy...unless I proved it to you." Lyr searched through his pockets until he found the coffee recipt from earlier and the old popcorn bag. "Take a good look at these." He handed them both to her and watched as she turned them over and over.
"Bassie's...that was you earlier!"
"Yeah. You need to watch where you're going. But that's not what I wanted you to see. What are you holding?" She gave him a 'this isn't funny' look and dropped the bag and slip on her coffee table.
"It's a paper bag and a recipt for coffee...what's this got to do with your brother's 'talent' huh?" She made the little quote marks with her fingers as she said talent. She still wasn't believing a word he said. Lyr sighed. Why can't people be a little more willing to believe things out of the ordinary?
"It's not just Ian's talent, it sort of runs in the family on mom's side. She had an aunt who could do it and she always said Grandpa could do it, it skips generations though. You couldn't tell from our family history who would and wouldn't have it. Some times father, son, daughter, and aunts and uncles would all have it, other times it was just grandpa and grandma."
"And...this tells me something how?"
"I just thought you might want to know our son might be able to do this in the future."
"Do what?" She sighed, frustrated. "Lyr I..." With the snap of his fingers the paper went up in flames, becoming a little pile of ash on the unmarked coffee table. She watched with wide eyes for a moment and sat silent for a bit longer before she looked at him, hands trembling ever so slightly. "Well...that's good to know then...about little Lyr. Were you ever going to tell me though?"
Lyr smiled and opened his mouth when his phone rang. He would have let it ring but considering that Ian might be in big trouble after last night's little stunt he had to take the call. Addy shook her head a bit but knew it wasn't like Lyr to not answer his phone...it would have made the caller nervous.
"Lyr thank goodness I got ahold of you. Sorry about breaking up your meeting with Addy, or if you arn't talking to her you should be bro, but I've got some major issues. Meet me on the corner by Tom's Sports in ten. Bye Lyr." Ian hung up before Lyr could get a word in edgewise, making him chuckle just a bit as he hung up the phone.
"Well?"
"It was Ian, I've got to go." Lyr stood shrugging into his coat. "I'll see you soon honey." He leaned over to kiss her and pulled back as she stiffened a bit. "Don't be mad. Please..."
"I'm not mad it's just...go, go. Give me time to think." She shooed Lyr out the door with waving hands and gentle pushes. It wasn't until he was driving away from the building that he realized he hadn't asked her a single question all evening.
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One ten a.m.
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Lyr pulled up infront of Tom's Sports but Ian wasn't there waiting for him. Instead there were a couple of thugs in expensive suits in a black Lexus. As he pulled up the motioned for him to roll down his window...he got out of the car instead. Crossing the street to where they were waiting he rapped on the glass of the driver's window. When they didn't roll it down he put his hand through the glass and grabbed the man by the shirt front.
Ignoring the man's partner, who went for his gun, he pulled the man forward in his seat until the partner would have to hit the driver if he shot at Lyr. "Where's Ian scumbag?" The man stammered around a bit before giving Lyr directions to an appartment on the upscale side of town. "And I bet I won't get past the doorman without one of you boys with me eh?" A slight nod confirmed his guess. Lyr shook his head. "Too bad nobody ever said what shape you had to be in did they?"
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One twenty one a.m.
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Lyr parked his car half a block from front doors of the building and stared at the skyscraper. "A bit ostintatious isn't it?" He said this to no one in particular since neither of the two thugs was concious at the moment. Lyr drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, regretting his violent actions of eleven minutes ago. He could heft the thugs over his shoulders and walk up to the doorman...but he doubted he'd be treated like a guest if he did that. Which ment he had to figure another way inside...
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Well what's Lyr going to do?
---------------------------
Hope you liked...merry Christmas!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 5:35 pm Post subject: |
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He could, but he'll have to take care that nobody sees him doing this on either side of the wall.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Jan 08, 2007 11:27 am Post subject: |
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New poll...vote at my own risk.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2007 12:27 am Post subject: |
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Still looking for votes guys...anyone out there?
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| Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2007 12:54 am Post subject: |
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| damn. I'm late. sorry for not being there to vote. i would have said burn an acces and then carry the thugs in. going to cast vote:)
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Jan 17, 2007 4:39 pm Post subject: |
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Right, vote was to burn a way in. Enjoy.
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Burn Seven: Fanning the Flames
One thirty a.m.
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Lyr was in no mood for politely knocking on the door or for asking permission to enter. Slipping out of the car after tying the thugs up in shreds of their own suits he walked around to a dimly lit alley on the side of the building. Looking around to assure himself nobody was watching he leaned against the wall. Smoke wafted out around him and, in no time flat, he'd burned a hole in the wall.
Stepping through and looking around, just to make sure nobody had seen him, he realized he didn't even know which room they were waiting for him in. A light tap on his shoulder had him whipping to confront none other than Joan standing behind him. Pointing first to herself then to him, she took off. "I guess I'll follow you then."
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Two a.m.
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Lyr burst through a door at the top of the stairs and into a hallway where two thugs in black suits turned automatic gunfire on him. After wincing as the first few rounds pummled through his body Lyr didn't even slow down. He simply walked up to them and slammed their heads together, knocking them unconcious, before kicking the door in.
After listening to the hail of gunfire outside the thugs inside the posh penthouse didn't even bother to try and stop him. Not as they looked at his bullet hole riddled clothing and watched him leave a trail of slugs behind him as he walked away across the carpet. Turning a face shadowed by pain and rage, hair twisted from the fire fight into ribbons of sweat soaked auburn, to a thug that was particularly well dressed Lyr snarled. "Where's Ian?"
The man pointed down the hall gibbering. "He's in the study with the Boss...but you'll" Lyr slammed the man back into the wall and walked way, heedless of whatever message the man was going to say. Finding the door to the study locked Lyr broke that one down as well much to the shocked expressions of those in the room.
Ian sat in a comfortable chair a look on his face saying he didn't believe what was happening. The Boss, or Carlo Satori, had a horrified look that quickly melted away. And the strange woman in the room looked slightly unnerved until regaining her regal, serene, calm. "Ah Lyr, so good of you to join us." Lyr snarled at Carlo.
"Give me back my brother or you will find out in a hurry just what kind of Hell you put me through." Ian shifted nervously and Carlo's frown deepened. The woman next to him smiled brilliantly.
"You see Ian," she purred. "It's just like we told you, Lyr is not heaven-sent...he's hell spawned." Lyr gazed at her sharply but her eyes were already sliding past him. "Why if you need any more confirmation just look at the spirit following him. How are you dear Joan."
"Marde." Lyr might not remember much French but he knew 'Shit' when he heard it. This couldn't be going well. Biting the bullet he gave Joan a small zap of energy, feeling slightly weak for a moment. She coughed once before locking her mind onto his. We have a really, really big problem. Serephina is like us...but remember I told you about evil Revenants...the one's called something else? She's one of them.
She's focused isn't she. Joan nodded ever so slightly. What's her focus? Joan grimaced.
Her beauty. Looking at her Lyr could see that she was indeed flawlessly beautiful. Like some goddess. And her voice was so heavenly...he shook his head bringing thoughs of Addy and his son to mind. That shocked him back to reality like a bucket of ice water. She's a Temptress.
Thanks, I think I figured that one out. He glared across the room at her. "What do you mean saying I'm hellspawn? You maybe should look in a mirror?" Was that a flinch that ran through her, Lyr wasn't sure.
"I?" She put a dramatic hand on her bosom. "I am an angel." Joan burst out laughing and Serephina glared at her with hate filled eyes. "You, you laugh. Of course you would, you have always mocked the power of God." At that Joan paled as if she'd been slapped in the face and Serephina allowed a smile to cross her lips.
Joan rattled of something in very angery French, her entire form shaking. To stop the conflict Lyr allowed flames to dance in his hair as he said in a quiet voice "Enough." They all turned to look at him. "Ian, we're leaving." Ian looked at him for a moment before standing, flames in his hands. "Ian?"
"You know, maybe I should have shot you right off the bat. If I had known that you worked for evil I would never have helped you...you demon." Lyr shook his head. He didn't remember much about the afterlife but he knew there hadn't been anything even remotely close to evil in the moments between death and rebirth.
"What are you talking about."
"She explained everything! The game is up Lyr!" He pointed to Serephina. "She is an angel, she's been using the mobsters to rid the world of evil people. That's why they killed you instead of killing me...I just didn't see it before." Lyr was shaking his head...Ian had gone mad.
He's completely under her spell. There's nothing you can do now. Lyr didn't want to believe he'd lost Ian. Yet how could he break the Temptress's hold?
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Well how might this be done?
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Hope you liked.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 2:11 am Post subject: |
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Well. to break the spell. It could be that it is partly his true story. Anyway 'n mirror. a kiss...*giggle* hit him through the face. Can he maybe kill the woman, I rarely know if angles can take hold of poeple. I think i skimmed a few parragraphs. I shall reread soon.
I'm not that intelligent in how to break spells. LOL. But again another good chapter.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Jan 27, 2007 1:16 am Post subject: |
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Are there any more readers out there with willing comments...or have you all found this story less than it once was?
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 11:50 pm Post subject: |
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Poll is up.
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| Posted: Fri Feb 09, 2007 7:55 am Post subject: |
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| Kalanna Rai wrote: | Right, vote was to burn a way in. Enjoy.
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He's completely under her spell. There's nothing you can do now. Lyr didn't want to believe he'd lost Ian. Yet how could he break the Temptress's hold?
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Well how might this be done?
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Hope you liked. |
Classically, in greek myth, temptresses had had a defeatable power. I.E. The Siren's music could be blocked by plugging your ears. The amazon's had some garment like a belt or short skirt. Her beauty isn't all consuming. You should think about distracting Ian with virtuous 'brotherly love' verses base lust. Assuming there is an angel - virtue connection her power is weaker against virtuious attacks. Don't know how it works. I voted for getting Ian away from the Temptress. I think the story would do better with somebody other than the mob as a recurring challenge to deal with. Particularly somebody that uses Ian as a pawn to count coup with. That does seem the direction that the story was going - Ian and the mob or Ian and the temptress. Ian seems to be what I call a DNPC (Dependant, Non-Player Character) which is in the story to be a plot hook.
I don't know about his wife and son. The wife could be a DNPC, but his son could grow into a Player that has his own line in the story.
Introduce the combat between importals for the hearts and minds of mortals. A sort of tragic never ending battle that will constantly need to be begun again each generation. If he's really immortal and others in the family have been too. Where are the previous generations and about fighting the classic us verses them? I.E. As in Harry Potter. The mage verses muggle argue and good verses evil questions. This story is walking on the edge of modern fantasy rather than SciFi. Does that give you some ideas?
Dave
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Fri Feb 09, 2007 10:48 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you for your thoughtful post and this isn't supposed to be sci-fi...it's supposed to be horror although we're just now getting into the real meat of the story.
No the mob wasn't supposed to be the only major player, indeed the Temptress is the first of several 'evils' that Lyr has returned to fight.
No there have been no immortals in his family prior to Lyr however the pyrokenesis is a heriditary family trait as Lyr explained and both Ian and Lyr demonstrate.
Addy is also a character around which the plot revolves as she is one of Lyr's major weak points, his son and brother being the other two.
And lastly...you hit upon the epilogue when you suggested that his son take over where he left off. Lyr's not exactly immortal...he's only got a weak of this god-like state before he has a major decision to make. At the end of his week he'll either burn out, fade away, or find a focus that will rule the rest of a very long life. Thus his son will take over for the father, fighting supernatural evils as they come his way.
Hate to reveal that now but hey, when you hit it you hit it. Glad to have you abord Dave, your comments are sound and your ideas are wonderful. Enjoy the ride.
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"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2007 1:21 pm Post subject: |
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| Sallume92054 wrote: | | Kalanna Rai wrote: | Right, vote was to burn a way in. Enjoy.
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He's completely under her spell. There's nothing you can do now. Lyr didn't want to believe he'd lost Ian. Yet how could he break the Temptress's hold?
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Well how might this be done?
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Hope you liked. |
Classically, in greek myth, temptresses had had a defeatable power. I.E. The Siren's music could be blocked by plugging your ears. The amazon's had some garment like a belt or short skirt. Her beauty isn't all consuming. You should think about distracting Ian with virtuous 'brotherly love' verses base lust. Assuming there is an angel - virtue connection her power is weaker against virtuious attacks. Don't know how it works. I voted for getting Ian away from the Temptress. I think the story would do better with somebody other than the mob as a recurring challenge to deal with. Particularly somebody that uses Ian as a pawn to count coup with. That does seem the direction that the story was going - Ian and the mob or Ian and the temptress. Ian seems to be what I call a DNPC (Dependant, Non-Player Character) which is in the story to be a plot hook.
I don't know about his wife and son. The wife could be a DNPC, but his son could grow into a Player that has his own line in the story.
Introduce the combat between importals for the hearts and minds of mortals. A sort of tragic never ending battle that will constantly need to be begun again each generation. If he's really immortal and others in the family have been too. Where are the previous generations and about fighting the classic us verses them? I.E. As in Harry Potter. The mage verses muggle argue and good verses evil questions. This story is walking on the edge of modern fantasy rather than SciFi. Does that give you some ideas?
Dave |
What braniac said.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2007 11:45 pm Post subject: |
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Tie-breaker anyone. I've been breaking too many of them myself lately.
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| Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2007 9:55 am Post subject: |
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| O sorry Rai i voted mirror, since it works always on temptresses. After that smash it... smash a mirror. and well then she is dead you see.
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 3:56 am Post subject: |
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I agree with Crady. There, tie broken. Happy?
_________________
Truly great madness cannot be achieved without significant intelligence.
Henrik Tikkanen
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 4:11 am Post subject: |
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Mirrors get the best of something...  Can't wait to see your next chap Rai. 
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 8:59 am Post subject: |
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Very Happy Mastermind...I'll get this chappy up later today RL willing...or unwilling.
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 2:27 pm Post subject: |
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Right next chappy. Enjoy
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Burn Eight: Fire Burning Bright
Two Thirty a.m.
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Lyr stared at Ian, his heart breaking. "You don't know what you're doing, you're not yourself."
"That's kinda strange coming from the mouth of a dead guy little bro. As far as I know I'm still me...but you're definetly not you. I should have caught on when you went along with my revenge plots. Time was when you would have talked me out of it..."
Lyr's expression hardened. "Yeah well that time kinda went out the window when my flesh was seared from my bones." Serephina's smile widened as she came from around behind the desk to stand behind Ian, hands on his shoulders.
"You don't need to fear your brother Ian...I am with you." Joan snorted at the Temptresses words.
"Yeah, fat lot of good that's going to do you. She's sapping your strength, not adding to it Ian. Serephina it's good to see some things havn't changed...you still jump into the pants of the first man likely to aid your cause...only last time it was MY brother you were jumping all over." Serephina laughed at the rage filled look on Joan's face.
"You? You were just the bastard by blow of the family. I'm surprised they're even still speculating about it all this time afterward. There's really no hard evidence. Besides, you were a shame and a disgrace, godless little hore!"
Joan lunged forward with a screech at Serephina's words, stopped only when Lyr's flaming hand wrapped around her arm. They both stared at each other in shock that he could hold onto her when her form was little more than colored haze. He looked at her and shook his head. "Let's not play into her image of us anymore than we already are shall we?"
Lyr's brain was already racing a million miles a minute. He remembered what Joan had told him about Revenants. If they had a Focus then destroying the focus would destroy them. But sometimes, as in this case, the focus wasn't something easily destroyed. Lyr had a hunch he could throw fireballs at Serephina's face all day long and nothing would happen. She wouldn't have so much as a scratch.
Well, he'd be viewed as a monster by Ian for the rest of his life, that much was certain. His brain was trying tell him something, something that might help him. It snapped into clarity all of the sudden. "Come on Joan, we're leaving." Joan stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
"But your brother..."
"Leave him. He's a big boy...he can make his own choices. If he wants to fight for the Mob and some Fallen Angel he can. I'm sick of it, I have better things to do." Turning for the door he'd just put his hand on it when it sprang into flames. "Wow, that would have been a deterrant if I'd been a living man. I've already been incinerated, fire holds no mystery for me anymore. And being burned," He looked over his shoulder at Ian's face. "I don't even feel that..."
Walking into the hallway Lyr ignored Joan's looks, concentrating instead on the item he was seeking. "Are they following us Joan?" She shook her head at him.
"Not yet." Lyr's brows knitted, as she shook her head. Dammit he need them, or at least Serephina, to follow. He rounded a corner and opened a door to find the room he was looking for. Rummaging through some drawers he found what he was looking for just as Joan hissed at him. "Here they come."
He moved quickly to the front door, looking into Ian's eyes one last time. "I'm offering you one last chance to trust me Ian." Ian shook his head.
"Never again Lyr...I'm sorry...I can't."
"Well then if I proved your angel was a fake?" Serephina took that oppertunity to laugh.
"And how are you going to do that?" Before she could finish laughing Lyr pulled the mirror from behind his back and flipped it toward her. "No! Get back!" She threw a hand across her eyes.
"What's wrong? Don't you want to admire yourself?" He thrust the mirror in between the sheilding arm and her face. She pulled back, her form rapidly bubbling like hot tar. "I didn't think so." She screeched at the top of her lungs, a banshee wail that had the mortals in the room clapping hands over ears.
Lyr stood there the whole time with the mirror aimed at her just in case. She swept her arm outward, trying to strike it from his hand. Flames crept up his form, rimming the mirror so that it blazed forth a shining light. She was breaking apart, sizzling like a sidewalk on a hot summer day. One of her melting hands clasped his foot, her eyes filled with hatred reflecting his flames.
"You think you have won...I was only the first...the distraction. There are far worse horrors instore for you, Lyr Varro. And I swear to you the fires of Hell shall charr the flesh from your bones." With a last gasp her form oozed away to nothing but a dark stain on the carpet, a stain quickly bursting into flames.
In moments the whole condo was engulfed. Lyr, unable to feel or be affected, knew the same wasn't true for Ian. Reaching out for his brother he was shocked to find himself still blazing, the mirror nothing more than ash in his hand. "Ian follow me!"
Ian shook his head, looking around. Lyr could tell he was still a bit dazed. The flames were spreading far too quickly, cutting off any hope of escape via elevator. That left only the stairs, which were quickly being engulfed by flames, and a massive window. "You can jump Lyr...you might be able to get Ian to safety if you do." Lyr shook his head...that was a bad idea. But then so was risking flame engulfed stairwells.
What to do...
-----------------------------
Hope you liked.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 2:39 pm Post subject: |
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Very good chappy Rai!
He can make flames, maybe he can extinguish them as well?
If not, then go for the window, and try to find something you could use as a rope.
| Serephina wrote: | | And I swear to you the fires of Hell shall charr the flesh from your bones. |
The Mob already did that. It didn't work out very well. 
_________________
Truly great madness cannot be achieved without significant intelligence.
Henrik Tikkanen
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 3:25 pm Post subject: |
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Indeed...they did try and look what happened. Maybe burning isn't a good idea.
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"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 10:44 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: | He can make flames, maybe he can extinguish them as well?
If not, then go for the window, and try to find something you could use as a rope. |
I agree, if he could make flames he should extinguish it too. Tough a window sounds better, but I doubt you'll just find a rope lying around.
there has to be another means of excape, like a fire excape or a ladder mounted to wall outside...
I liked this chapter Ria hope to see more real soon.
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| Posted: Mon Mar 05, 2007 12:25 am Post subject: |
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New poll going up...
Vote when it appears...
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| Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:12 pm Post subject: |
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Here's to Mastermind and his vote. Enjoy!
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Burn Nine: Inner Fire
Two fifty a.m.
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The flames raged out of control all around him, all over him. Lyr's head whipped back and forth between window and doorway, between Joan's anxious grimace and Ian coughing into his elbow. He brought a flaming hand to his lips, biting his knuckle hard as a nervous habit from childhood surfaced. It was then, staring at his flame covered flesh, that he had an idea. Lyr, despite the flames that licked across his skin, was still fully clothed...and that was because he had told the flames to leave his clothes alone.
Closing his eyes, he didn't want to watch if this didn't work, he reached out to the rapidly growing inferno around them. At first he was trying to tell the flames to leave every surface alone but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work. It was like trying to deny a starving pit bull a t-bone. Opening his eyes Lyr caught sight of the fire advancing on Ian, the one person in the room they could consume.
Without thinking he reached out and pulled and the flames spiraled backward through the air and into his palms. Just as he had so many times before, Lyr recalled the fire to himself, drawing the blaze inside and locking it away until only smoke and smolder were left. For a moment he stood, dazed and wobbly after the exertion, before pain blossomed in his gut like a match in gasoline soaked rags.
It doubled him over, this fist of Hades, putting him on his knees with one hand wrapped across his torso. He bit his lip so hard it bled, the fire within feeling like it was a wild animal clawing it's way out of his flesh. It had never been so bad before, even when his raw powers had first surged to life. Ian's hands were on his shoulders for a brief moment before his elder brother jerked them back, smoke curling from reddened flesh. "Lyr, talk to me! What's going on?"
Joan knelt before him, twisting her face around until she could stare him in the eyes. The expression on her face was carefully nutral but Lyr detected the quaver in her voice. "He's burning up from the inside out. The blaze, it was started by Serephina's remains...Lyr's got Hellfire trapped inside him."
Forehead on carpet, both arms hugging his sides to keep his fiery equivilant of Frankenstine's monster from escaping, Lyr bared his teeth. "Oh that's just peachy. It feels like dying a second time."
"You're in very real danger of doing just that. It's blocking your ability to draw from the Source, you're essentially running under your own power."
"He's what!" Ian's yell was full of clammy fear and Lyr might have been grateful for it if it hadn't acted like chilled vodka and stoaked his hellish inner fire.
Joan's words were calm, for the moment, but there was nothing soothing about them. "He's been cut off from the Source, the power that's been feeding him. That means he's suddenly lost his unlimited power, his regenerative capabilities, and his connection to the this life...in short, he's either going to master this thing or die trying."
Grinding his teeth so hard they squeaked, Lyr forced himself up on one knee, knuckles of one fist in the charred carpet. "I love the way you're talking as if I wasn't right here."
"Don't get angery Lyr, this is Hellfire. It's not out to destroy you at the moment, just break you, own you. It's cut your connection and you know it, yet it's also offering you power isn't it?" Lyr had to admit she'd hit the nail on the head with that one. The malestrom within him was tearing through all of his carefully built barriers like they were paper, proving it was so much stronger than the power he'd possessed of late it was scarey.
Lyr might not be a Faith driven man, might not attend church or put much strength in devine doctrine, but he did know the difference between good and evil. Good was the soft reassurance he'd had for the past few days, the soft warmth of banked embers ready to spark upon command. This...this was evil, full on firestorm every second of every day, a blaze so powerful it would consume everything within Lyr, everything Lyr had ever been and would ever become, to feed itself.
It was then that Lyr stood, how he couldn't tell you, and turned his face upward. Staring through a skylight who's windows had blown in the flames, he gazed at the vault of the sky though no moon nor stars could be seen. Once before Lyr had made a plea, a plea that his death would not be in vain. Now he made another plea, a plea for the strength to fight.
White light seared downwards, invisible to all but the eyes of Lyr and Joan, illuminating him. Through the barrier of flames within, along the lines of his severed connection, it poured into him. He was distantly aware of Joan shouting.
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Two fifty-eight a.m.
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Ian couldn't tell what was going on but he was perceptive enough to know it was something big. Energy charged the air so badly that Joan was become every more 'real' as she soaked it in. "What's happening?"
She looked at him with wide eyes that reflected a brilliance Ian was blind to. "Can you not see? It is the most beautiful tragic thing I have ever witnessed...the first Revenant I have ever seen call down the Final Gift."
"Final Gift?"
"As I've said, your brother was a young Revenant. What that means is that he was still well within his week, the week we are all given to adjust to our new state. During that time we are connect to the Source at all times, unlimited power at our fingertips, unable to die or stay injured. At the end of that week all the Power a Revenant will ever have is given to us at once. It's called the Final Gift."
"But he's been back little more than two days! He should have five left!" Ian was frantic. Anything with the word 'Final' in it couldn't be good and things weren't that great to start with.
"That's been taken into account, the power he would have used in that time is being given to him as well...charity on an immesurable scale Ian, trust me." Suddenly the power, the charge, stopped for a moment and a sense of tension and waiting replaced it. Joan gazed intently upon Lyr. "It's all up to him now."
Ian looked at his brother, trying to fathom the struggle going on within him. Ian had never denied the paranormal, couldn't with his 'Gift', but he'd never really taken the allegations of angels and demons, Heaven and Hell, all that seriously...until that night seven months ago...until he the day Lyr returned to his life...until now as he watched his little brother fight a battle Ian himself had already lost.
'I sold my soul to a demon for the promise of power...Don't make my mistake Lyr, don't...' Joan gave no sign of hearing Ian, for which Ian was greatful. They'd seen how he'd acted with Serephina...but he doubted they'd guessed that she was only pulling the strings a much more powerful puppet master had placed upon him.
Still Ian had to know, what would happen to Lyr now that he'd taken this 'Final Gift' of his early? "Joan..."
She put a finger to her lips and shushed him. "He's making his choice."
Standing and listening to the clock strike the devil's hour, Ian could only hope it was the right one.
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Three a.m.
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Lyr felt it, all that power waiting just under his skin, all that power freely given warred with the power that wished to take all he had. But now he had the power to choose...and he chose willing service over blazing chains. The hellfire burst from him in a swirling conflaguration that seemed to scream in fury for losing his soul, but that was not the end of his battle.
The power freely given, his Final Gift, waited for his choice. He remembered what Joan had told him, about fading away and burning up, but he already knew that those were not the right choices for him. He would choose to Focus his power and he knew just the thing. His inner fire. "I so choose..."
The words sprang from his lips unbidden, unknowingly, and with utter conviction. He didn't need to speak his choice aloud, the power knew somehow. Like all others before him who'd ever chosen a Focus, Lyr's body began to twist itself around to suit, changes making him something that could never again be called 'human'.
His blood was seared away, liquid flame taking it's place. His ashen skin became the golden color it had held in life save that now it radiated a warm golden glow, the inviting light of home and hearth. His charred black hair returned to it's former flaming hue, moving like the fires of the inner earth with molten shimmer and wave. He could feel it now, the essence of fire that swirled through him, igniting along every line of his body. The heat grew intense, a blast furnace that swirled around his feet and spiraled upwards, the collumn of superheated wind it generated knocking flat the walls of the penthouse, incinerating the ceiling before it fell.
The tattoo on his flesh ceased to be ink and instead was drawn in searing flame. As the fire spiraled outwards it met and clashed with the hellfire, blurring the line between the two enough that Lyr lost track of it, knowing only that it fled. Then he felt confined, as if something needed to change. From the center of him, pressure built, fire building, consuming itself in a reaction that would never stop. Suddenly, in a wave that illuminated the night, it all flashed outwards. A scream, like that of an eagle and fire itself, wild and free, shrilled across the night even as Joan and Ian were knocked into empty air by the blast's concussion.
As the light faded on the charred rooftop, grey ashes rained down...
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Three days later
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Ian woke in a bed that wasn't his own, the fire raging inside him like a hungery beast. A shadow flitted across his vision and he turned toward it, seeking a glimpse of whoever, or whatever it was. He had a good feeling he knew though, a feeling that was confirmed moments later as he was flung from bed and pinned against a wall by an unseen force.
"You have failed."
For once Ian was proud of failure. After watching Lyr, feeling the unease and guilt in his presence, Ian was glad that he wouldn't have to feel it for eternity. But his Master wasn't a pleasent creature to deal with, and he didn't like even the smallest failure...and failing to convert Lyr was no small failure.
"You've cost me a powerful servant and stolen her Fire on top of it and you remain silent...Foolish man."
Ian couldn't repress a shudder as his Master moved out of the light. Even now, in his human form, the Master was a formidible creature. Just over six feet tall and all whip-like muscle, arms and shoulders that could rip a bull in half. Long black hair was collected by a black ribbon at the nape of his neck and flowed in a smooth tail to the backs of his knees. His hands were strong, fingers slender, nails immaculate and sharp, razor sharp.
He was dressed in a suit of crushed black velvet, a red tie with a diamond tie pin that matched his cuff links the only color to be found. His skin was beyond pale and his black eyes burned with all the intensity of a black hole. "I'll expect you to fix this Ian. I'll expect you to track him down...but now I'll expect you to kill him."
Ian's blood ran cold. Kill Lyr? Even if his brother wasn't already dead it was impossible. "He's stronger than I am."
A smile curved the Master's lips. "Then find more power. Don't ask how...I'm sure you'll think of something."
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How is Ian going to find more power?
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And now the cards are on the table, the plot's finally unfolding, and you've met the real foe. Can you handle it? I hope you liked this chappie.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2007 9:52 pm Post subject: |
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Liked it very much Rai.
Well, as using more fire probably wouldn't work, I'd say use liquid nitrogen to freeze Lyr.
Or maybe if Ian could control Hellfire...
| Quote: | | until he the day Lyr returned to his life |
_________________
Truly great madness cannot be achieved without significant intelligence.
Henrik Tikkanen
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
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| Posted: Thu Mar 15, 2007 11:05 am Post subject: |
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| Quote: | I'd say use liquid nitrogen to freeze Lyr.
Or maybe if Ian could control Hellfire... |
F5 hehe. well let him pray to the gods for a miracle or kill someone or drink something that is flammable or get really angry and then he gets more power, but it would not hold out for long.
He dies and comes back stronger than before...
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| Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 1:37 am Post subject: |
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Poll's up.
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| Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 1:25 pm Post subject: |
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Right Mastermind, liquid nitrogen...I'm on it. Enjoy!
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Burn Ten: Freezing Phoenix
Seven a.m.
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The ashes swirled and stirred, blown by the wind far from the charred rooftop where firemen swarmed. They twisted and whirled in the light of the dawn, conforming their shape into the shape of the man they belonged to. In moments Lyr Varro stood shaking his head. "I'm going to have to get used to that." His voice worked, he felt a small quirk of surprise that he shouldn't have...then realized he was standing in a park, naked, burning like a torch.
He thought longingly of clothes, the kind he used to wear, and watched as the flames twisted themselves into the imagined outfit. Slowly their brilliance faded until only the snap in his grey eyes and the highlights in his red hair betrayed their presence. He snuck a glance at his tattoo to find it still etched in glowing lines, but the glow didn't seep through the white turtle neck or the tan leather jacket over that. A pair of khaki cords and tan boots finished the outfit.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings and trying to discern where Joan was. He felt his connection to her like one might feel the leash on a dog. Lyr wasn't inclined to think of Joan as an animal and he was even less inclined to yank her 'leash'. Still it did lead back to her and right now he wanted some answers. Like, why was everyone rimmed in light, like the glow of a candle, that he'd never noticed before?
He walked out of the park and bumped into an elderly woman walking her small Yorkie. She looked at him, startled and obviously annoyed, and he watched as all that seeped out of her face and was replaced by a grandmotherly smile. "You need to be more careful young man. My old bones arn't as agile as they used to be." The warm tone coaxed Lyr's own smile back.
"I'll have to remember that Ma'am. I was so lost in thought I needed a rescue party. So excuse my clumsy mistake and thank you for rescuing me." She smiled at him again before leading her dog into the park and leaving a bewildered Lyr standing on the sidewalk wondering what had just happened. As he looked around he realized he recognized the place and took off in the general direction of where he'd left his car.
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Eight thirty a.m.
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Ian had despaired for a few moments. How was he supposed to fulfill his Master's wish? The Hellfire raged inside him, whispering, demanding, pleading, seducing. He thought again of Lyr and felt the fire flare into an inferno of anger and rage. The Hellfire hated Lyr, hated him for refusing it, and it feared him, feared him for casting it out. It called to Ian again, in the language of wordless fire that his forsworn soul understood.
The foe of fire was ice and if his brother's flames could be frozen then his brother would be powerless...save for his focus. The fires churned around inside Ian, begging then ordering him to tell them what he knew of Lyr's focus. But Ian knew nothing, had no idea what his brother might have chosen and where he might find the item even if he did know what it was. The fires punished him for that, charring everything inside, consuming him.
The only thing keeping Ian alive was his Master's will. Ian couldn't die until he had completed his job for the Master, or until the Master tired of him...which seemed likely if he failed this time. He needed more power and the Hellfire responded, pulling more essence of the inferno upward until Ian was little more than a charred black skeleton wrapped in the blazing fires of Hell.
He looked at himself in the mirror and laughed. "Well Lyr always said I needed a new look. I wonder how he'll like me now. But I can't go out like this..." Almost instantly an illusion sprang into place, an illusion of himself. "Better...now I suppose I can use some liquid nitrogen to freeze Lyr cold but I've got to find him first." The flames whispered, deamanded, that Ian not go to Lyr, that Ian bring Lyr to him.
For a moment Ian stood thinking, wondering how he could bring his brother to him. Then it dawned on him. "He still loves Addy...and I know where she is. I'll pick up a few things and go pay her a visit."
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Ten twenty p.m.
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It was harder than he thought to track Joan down, especially since she seemed to keep moving and he was on foot. He'd been pretty pissed when he'd returned to the scene of the fire only to find his car had been towed to make room for emergency vehicles. And it wasn't like he could go pay the fines on it. He only hoped the man upstairs would see fit to return it to him.
Joan, it seems, had been treated as a Jane Doe fire victim and had been bounced from hospital to hospital. He finally found her in Our Lady of Peace, laying in an ER bed and pretending she was unconcious. Slipping in, unnoticed by doctors and nurses, Lyr walked over to her bedside, ignoring the man on the gurney next to her. "Come on, we've got to get out of here."
She cracked open her eye and the monitors went wild on her pulse and respiration rate. By the time the doctors and nurses rushed in to take a look at the machines, both of them were gone. And the man in the other gurney wasn't nearly as injured as he had been...
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Ten fourty p.m.
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Lyr and Joan sat on the subway, Joan in some shabby clothing Lyr had scrounged from Salvation Army. She kept glancing at him as if expecting him to do something amazing. "What?"
"I didn't expect to see you back. I thought for certain you'd vaporized yourself." Lyr grinned. It was nice to still be able to surprise people. She grinned back. "I hope you picked your Focus wisely. Otherwise you might end up like me...with a hidden catch."
He shrugged. "I havn't run into any catches yet...although I know this isn't free." He sat there wondering about it now that Joan had brought it up. What might his weakness be?
--------------------------------
Well?
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Mastermind
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| Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 3:00 am Post subject: |
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Apathy would be the most obvious weakness - if he stops caring, he won't have any inner fire to draw power from, right? Or a feeling of being powerless - unable to save Addy and his son, for example. One must defeat him emotionally, not physically.
Some typos:
| Quote: | | How was he supposed to fulfill his Master's wish? |
fulfil
| Quote: | | The flames whispered, deamanded |
demanded
| Quote: | | pretending she was unconcious. |
unconscious
_________________
Truly great madness cannot be achieved without significant intelligence.
Henrik Tikkanen
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
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| Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 2:51 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | The Hellfire hated Lyr, hated him for refusing it, and it feared him, feared him for casting it out. |
I think his weakness is not emotion tough it is an interesting thought. I say it is the fear of hearing the fires call to him the fear of losing controle of his powers, to hurt her- the one he loves.
He cares for her, but her heart was really on a fast pace and the hospital would be looking for her. Lyr cares for her he should do what is best and try and let go of what emotion weakens him. It is like tie chi chun even the slightest of emotion could weaken him at the outer of his skin.
Show weakness and also give a weakness to fires then he'll have trouble of controling it. He has to let go of her. it is for the best even if it is for a good of her life and for his and her protection against his unknowning growing power of fire.
I ot my ideas back rai, hope you liked it.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 9:03 pm Post subject: |
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I'm probably going to combine both of those ideas for the next chappy rather than put up a poll. I think it's about time to put PHOENIX to bed.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2007 3:53 pm Post subject: |
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Right, final chappy. Enjoy!
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Burn Eleven: Rain of Fire
Ten fifty p.m.
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Lyr was startled out of his thoughts by the ringing of his cellphone. Reaching into his pocket he frowned...hadn't it burned up with the rest of his things? So why was it still here? Still he answered with a slow "Hello?"
"Lyr...I have something you want. Something you value. I have your family." Lyr's grip went white knuckle as the sounds of a screaming baby and Addy sobbing could be heard. He didn't recognize the voice on the other end...how many people were out to get him. Looking at the Caller I.D. his heart clenched to read Ian's number. That meant whoever had Addy and his son had Ian as well.
"What do you want?"
"You. Come to the Warehouse at 3 a.m...don't be late...." There was a click as the phone was hung up leaving Lyr to tremble.
"What's wrong...there's fire in your eyes." Joan was staring at him, concern written all over her face.
"We've got to prepare and we don't have much time."
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Two thirty a.m.
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Ian sat quietly watching Addy hold little Lyr. Addy was shaking and trembling but she was doing better than she had been when Ian first abducted her. At first she'd been fine, accepting his explanation that Lyr needed her...she hadn't started screaming until he'd dropped his disguise.
Now she hummed softly to her baby, keeping the brat quiet and comfortable. Ian was glad he'd let her keep the diaper bag, he really didn't care for the kid's wailing and knew that no dirty, hungery baby would ever stop crying.
"What are you waiting for you monster?" Ian looked over at Addy in mild surprise. Where had she summoned the courage for that? She hadn't spoken to him since he'd taken her, screamed yes, but not spoken. Yet now she stared at him out of red-rimmed flinty eyes. It must be those maternal instincts kicking in. He decided to humor her.
"I'm waiting for Lyr. And when he gets here...well I havn't decided that yet. I don't know if I should fry the two of you infront of him or if I should make him submit, then fry the two of you infront of him...or if I should just fry him then fry you two."
"So there's no chance of my survival?"
Ian cackled. "None at all my dear. I'm afraid the only outcome for the pair of you is a choice between extra crispy and charred black...which is really no choice at all."
"Why are you doing this Ian? You were closer to your brother than anyone."
For a moment feelings stirred within Ian again. Shame and revulsion at what he had become and what he was doing...then he thrust it all away as the Hellfire surged within him again. He stood up and stalked over to her, flames popping and hissing on his bones.
"Why? Well power for starters. I never wanted to be helpless and weak again, never wanted to be beaten and humiliated again. For months I've hidden my power and waited for the moment when I could take my revenge...then I'd have been the boss and I'd have had control." He snapped his jaws closed, flames wirling around him in rage. "Then Lyr came back...HE CAME BACK!"
His fire pillared upwards like a massive volcanic eruption, searing the earth around him and blistering Addy's skin, making her clothes smolder as she curled protectivly around the baby. Slowly Ian calmed himself.
He looked at his wrist, a watch of fire forming, and checked the time. "But don't worry...it'll all be over in the next couple minutes."
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Three a.m.
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Lyr saw the inferno beast from a distance, his shoulder blades itching. "I've got a bad feeling about this Lyr...a very bad feeling." Joan was a half-step behind him, dragging her feet. "Lyr...I think that's..."
"It's Ian...I can see his aura." Lyr didn't know how hell had gotten to his brother, it must have had something to do with the Hellfire that had tried to overtake Lyr himself. When he forced it out it must have latched onto Ian instead. But that wasn't the whole explaination...the corruption ran deeper than that.
The burning skeleton turned to face him, charred grin fixed for eternity. "Ah Lyr...just in time for the party...and see what guests we have." He extended a flaming boney arm toward Addy and little Lyr. "They've come for the fun...afterall, what party is good without games."
"You bastard..." Joan started forward only to be stopped by Lyr's arm.
"What do you want Ian?" Lyr got the satisfaction of seeing Ian's shock.
"So you've figured it out...always were the smart one. But not smart enough to get out of this. You've only got one choice in this one Lyr...submit or they die!"
Lyr shook his head. "That's not the way Hell works Ian. It doesn't matter what I do..you're going to kill them. I'll agree to whatever you want and then you're going to kill them and I'll be bound to the agreement."
Addy laughed quietly. "He's got you there Ian."
Ian whirled around, flames crackling. "Shut up!" He hurled a small bolt of flame at them only to watch as another bolt hit it. There was a brief flash but no fire reached the woman and child.
"You forgot I'm here brother."
"So I did Lyr...so I did. But you forget the game. I can still burn them to cinders before you can save them...and you know it." Lyr opened his mouth and shut it again. Deep down he did know it. He knew if he charged over there to save him he'd be no more than a mortal man. His power was destined for greater things, greater uses...it was selfish of him to squander it on two lives. It was playing favorites that he'd save them.
Lyr looked at Addy and saw something in her eyes, something that gave him the strength to go on. She got to her feet, lifted her chin, and stood tall with their son in her arms. Her eyes boring into his she spoke two words. "Do it."
Almost instantly Lyr was consumed with fire. Turning to Ian he shook his head. "You forget one thing Ian...those certain of their belife are not afraid of death." Rising into the air his human form lost it's shape, wings of flame spreading as he and his tattoo became one. With a scream like an eagle and the roar of a thousand acre wildfire, Lyr let go.
And fire rained from the sky...
------------------------------
It's finally over...I hope you enjoyed it!
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Chinaren
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Amichan
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| Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2007 9:57 am Post subject: |
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i havent had a chance to comment at all i'd like afew days to read this whole thing through before it gets moved mainly because Lily remmended this titel to me and Rai i'll give you major credit. there aren't too many SG's that get recommended to me to read by many people so i'd like the honor to read yours and give some honest feedback
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2007 9:12 pm Post subject: |
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Even if it get's moved Kang PM me the feedback...I'd appriciate it.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Thu Jun 28, 2007 5:25 am Post subject: |
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Excellent work, Rai. Nicely wrapped up.
_________________
Truly great madness cannot be achieved without significant intelligence.
Henrik Tikkanen
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
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| Ian will gain more power by... |
| Killing someone. |
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| Turning liquid nitrogen on Lyr. |
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