Inanna Speed

Inanna you are more than just the Lover

You are also a warrior like no Other

So please grant us the speed of your sword arm great Mother

In the world where there is always so much to Do

We find ourselves turning to You

For Inanna is the Mistress of Speed and the words we speak are True

So grant us awesome Speed

For this is what we Need

And now our goals will hatch from their Seed

Inanna Speed

You Can Find out more about the Followers of Inanna Here!

Saving Money (part I)

“So how do you like it?” Pitch asked, while cutting another huge piece off his steak. Swirling it in the bloody grease on his plate, he popped it into his mouth, before Talon had a chance to reply.

“Yeah, it’s great,” he answered. Talon hoped that this wasn’t a prelude to Pitch asking him up pony up some money for his share of the meal. Talon only had three dollars to his name and didn’t want to part with them.

Saving Money

“I’m glad you like it,” Pitch said. Some of the other guys laughed for some reason. “Would you like a beer?” Everything about Pitch lived up to his name. From his dyed hair to his wardrobe, everything stayed a deep dark black. He kept himself clean-shaven and was probably a few seasons shy of Talon’s twenty five years of age.

“Wow, you have beer too? What’d you do, roll somebody?”

Laughing between mouthfuls, “there might have been some rolling involved?”

Pitch

Rick, or Rick-the-dick, as most people called him, handed him a can of cheap beer. Rick was tall and creepy, in a general sort of sense, which even wearing outdated glasses couldn’t dispel. Local legend had it that Trash had kept the lanky freak from raping a girl behind Greasy Tony’s sub shop. Why Pitch let the guy hang around was beyond Talon. Still, a guy on his budget couldn’t turn down free food and beer, so here he was.

            The group of five guys and one gal circled the grimy table that was in the main room of the small shack known as the Mutant House. Torn and shaggy show flyers mixed with random posters in an attempt to conceal the dirty brown walls. Trash mingled with dumpster dived furniture and junk, until it was hard to distinguish one from the other.

Taking another bite of meat, he let it melt on his tongue. Who would have guessed these losers could cook this well? “So what do you think you might be eating?” Pitch asked? This elicited more laughter from his buddies and girlfriend Stain.

“Some kinda steak. I guess.”

“It is some kind of steak,” Mucci giggled beside him.

Talon was starting to feel uneasy. What was going on with these guys? He took another bite and washed it down with a big chug of beer. “Would you like to know?”

“Ah sure, why not.”

“Rick, go grab what is on the plate.”

Moving to the fridge, Rick strangely waited until he was nearly standing behind Talon, before he tossed the plate onto the table. Talon shot to his feet so fast that the chair toppled backwards with a clang. He gasped when he saw that Rick had tossed a folded human arm onto the table. Most of the meat had been sliced away, except for the flesh around the hand. This had turned a sickly light blue.

The others were laughing at his reaction, but Rick placed a controlling hand on his shoulder as he whispered, “stay cool.” The words were drawn out and eerie, sounding like some fiend out of an old horror movie.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” He managed to spit out.

Talon

“Saving money,” Pitch said, standing up.

“By eating people?” A deep terror began to well up inside him. It was an explosive feeling of horror, which he could barely control, but he knew that if he lost it, trouble would quickly follow.

“Hell, is it our fault?” Pitch began, as he started to pace through the crowded room. Papers were crushed under his feet and he knocked over an overflowing ashtray. This created a gray cloud that clutched at his combat boots.

“We have hit way worse than a recession here. New Cluster is dying. We are living off its corpse anyway, why not take it one step further?”

“Where did you get the body?” He couldn’t help but ask, which caused Rick’s hand to clamp down on his shoulder painfully.

“Don’t worry. It was already dead, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Pitch said, with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Everyone is so hungry that people are dying all around us. Rick found this corpse in the street; no one cared. The government might have gotten the paramedics around to cleaning it up eventually. They don’t care about us or care that we are starving, they just want to clean up the streets so that the uppercrusties don’t have to be disturbed by our reality.”

“But who was this guy?” Talon tried to shrug Rick’s hand off his shoulder, but this only made him grip harder.

“Just a bum.” Ceasing his pacing, Pitch met his eye, staring him down. “Why should we live in poverty, until we end up like those guys, wasting away in the streets? Why should we spend every cent we get just to try to survive and miss out on everything? Hell, you liked that beer, didn’t you? Do you think we would be able to afford something even as simple as these cheap ass beers, if we were shelling out money for grub? Hell no. We would be sitting here eating some oat supplement, staring at each other. Some Saturday night that would be.”

“I hope we can trust you not to narc us out,” Rick whispered into his ear. “Cause if you do…” His words trailed off, but Talon felt the implications. The silent threat that perhaps he would be becoming their next meal.

“So I ask you this Talon, are you with us, or are you just going to continue to grovel for the Posh, washing their dishes at that place you work, watching more food flow down the drain each day than you get to eat in an month?”

The grip on his shoulder intensified. “Yeah, I’m cool. I would never narc you guys.”

“We want more than that Talon, we want you to be one of us. We have already shared one meal; why not make it a lifestyle. No matter what, we’ll never starve and we’ll certainly have more cash for rolling.”

“I don’t know.” This was wrong, so wrong, and he just wanted to get out of there and never return, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t make it out of there at all if he didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear. Quickly building a plan and fighting down his building sickness, he figured he would play along with them for now.

“I guess you have a few points. I hate eating synthetic mush and not even having enough money to wash it down with something more than our nasty tap water.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Wait,” Rick said from behind him. “Before we welcome him into the fold, I want to seem him clean his plate. Can he do it now that he knows what he is eating?”

Pitch must have seen him grimace, for he smiled and said, “Come on Talon. Talk minus action equals zero.”

His hands fell like fish caught in the mud while his throat constricted painfully. Dread welled up inside him, building into fear. Looking around the constricted room and feeling Rick-the-dick’s grip on his shoulder, left little doubt to the true nature of this test. Fail, and it could be his arm they would be eating.

Red Talon

His mouth turned to ash. Could he do this? Eating this meat was the only way to get out of here, but would it pass his throat? Could he make it happen?

Slowly, trying not to let his arm tremble, Talon picked up his fork and stabbed it into his remaining triangle of dripping black meat. It was a big piece, but he believed that it would be better to do it all at once, for he wouldn’t wish to have to do it again and again.

Staring at it, he could see the crimson muscle. It looked like human flesh now. Hesitating too long could give him away. Frowning uncontrollably, he shoved the whole piece in-between his teeth in one bite. It filled his mouth and he gagged. His throat tensed, closing like a vise. Flesh splintered and tore, splitting into wet fragments that became caught between his teeth.

He began to dry heave. Not bothering to hide the menace in his voice, Pitch said, “don’t do it.” A steak knife filled his hand and he brought it up like a weapon. “Don’t do it.”

Panicking, he snatched up his half full beer and downed the thing. He was barely able to keep from vomiting, but the beer washed away some of the foul taste and with a supreme effort, he was able to swallow the rest.

For a moment all he could do was stand there panting. He hadn’t even noticed at first that Rick-the-dick had let go of him. “Can I have another beer please?”

“Sure,” Pitch said and tossed him a beer. “Good job by the way. Now you only have to pass one more test”

Explore more of Talon’s World Here!

Talon’s Nightmare

The Serpent and the Grape

After Cleo slit the Darcarre’s throat from ear to ear, the small female Gloom became much more talkative.

Jack leaned in over her, while Phillip stayed busy sharpening his knife. The gentle stoke of the blade over the oiled whetstone, punctuated the room with a gritty rhythm.

Forest Jack

The Stalwart of Yig continued to lean in until his unshaved chin loomed only inches before her wizened face. “So you’re known as Wisp?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you that much, but why should I tell you anything else? You’ll just kill me anyway.”

Wisp

“There’s also that whole torture thing, that’s best to avoid,” Cleo said from behind her.

“Stalwarts don’t torture…”

Phillip looked up, his blazing brown eyes just visible under the rim of his hat. “Jack might not, but I’d have no problem with it. The only thing worse than being kicked out of my city by Xemmoni, would be kicked out of my city from Xemmoni that aren’t even from Boston and by the sound of your accent, you weren’t born in bean town. So you must have been imported to help take over my city. Is this true?”

When she didn’t say anything, Jack prompted her. “Is this really where you want to draw the line in the sand? I suggest you answer him.”

When Cleo rested a hand on the Gloom’s shoulder, she said, “Okay, yeah, I’m not from Boston. Darken has ordered all of us to meet in Boston.”

“What do you mean all of you?” Phillip asked and Jack noticed the deep lines of concern playing over his friend’s face.

She leaned forward, which hid her glowing red eyes. “Listen, I don’t know everything, but I’d like to know what will happen to me if I tell you what I do know?”

Jack lifted her chin so his green eyes met her red. “Let’s just say the more you tell us the more body parts you might get to keep.”

She sighed and then let her gaze drop to the floor. “Lord Darken instructed all of the members of the Dark Alliance within America to head to Boston.”

Phillip spoke slowly. “What do you mean all the members?”

Wisp showed some Xemmoni fueled aggression for the first time. “Just what I said, Stalwart. We’re all supposed to meet in Boston.”

Life and Death

Jack moved back a pace and chuckled. “What all of you. Every Gloom, Darcarre, and Caradon is supposed to head to Boston?”

“That’s what I said.”

“But that’s impossible,” Phillip said.

“And insane,” Cleo added.

Cleo

Jack spoke next. “It would seem to be that if that many Xemmoni showed up here the city would implode to the point where reveling the existence of Xemmoni to the general public would be a real possibly.”

Wisp had gone from being terrified to perhaps enjoying herself in as many seconds as it would take so say it. “You’re forgetting two things. The first is, certainly not all Dark Alliance Xemmoni are aware of Vile’s order and many that are, either can’t or have chosen not to travel to Boston. The second is,” and she looked up and let her blazing eyes burn into his as she spoke, “Soon Vile Darken will be reveling himself to this planet and nothing you can do will stop that.”  

Vile Darken

“Interesting,” Jack said. “Wrong, but interesting. Just one other question for now.” He paused, but then moved in closer again. “Why are all the Xemmoni being brought here? What is Vile attempting to accomplish?”

Wisp appeared lost in thought perhaps weighing her options. “Since you can’t do anything to stop it and telling you might allow myself to live long enough to see the glory of the eternal night… I’ll tell you.” She paused for affect, but then spit it out when she saw their patience waning. “Vile intends to use the power of every Xemmoni he can find to reenact the Everywhere Spell, but this time use it to kill all of the Stalwart archetypes throughout the Multiverse.”

“So I was right,” Jack said in a low voice. “But you were wrong about something.”

“Oh yes,” she hissed. “What would that be?”

“That we can’t do anything to stop it.”

To be continued next Monday

Find out how Jack’s Adventures Started Here!

Three Glooms

Night Hunt

Pit looked over at his dark mate, Midnight. Although much of her tight ebony dress had splashes of blood covering it, it pleased him to know she had fully healed herself, which appeared to be more than he could say for the rest of the whining rabble that filled the black van with him. 

Darcarre Vilain

Riding in the back were what remained of the dozen Xemmoni who had positioned themselves around the Stalwart Doctor’s home. A full half of them had been slain when the Serpent and the Grape had come calling, which had become the tag the Xemmoni of Boston had given Jack Primus and Phillip Brownhurst. The only satisfaction he got was when the Doctor refused to join the three Stalwarts when they fled, with their tails between their legs, back to the suburbs. It hadn’t been a difficult decision to give chase.

One of the Caradon’s annoying voices, a man named Sender, sounded over his shoulder. “Hey, a few of us could use some more healing back here, including me.”

“I already told you that you have all the healing you’re going to get from us tonight. 

We aren’t going into this final battle with nothing.” He passed to add a lie. “Besides if one of you goes down hard, don’t you want us to have a chance to save you?”

Nasty

This seemed good enough for the Caradon and he sat back down on one of the benches that lined the side of the van. 

Pit opened up telepathic communications with his mate. “They act like there’s some reason I would want any of them alive. Boston has always belonged to the Darcarre, despite who our elders had been foolish enough to align themselves with. As far as I’m concerned, let them all get killed off. It will make for a more pleasant Boston when the last of the Stalwarts are cleaned out.”

She placed her pale, delicate finders on his leg. “Yes, my dark prince, but we may need them before this night has closed. Primus and Brownhurst have a way of surviving.”

“Bah. it’s only the protection afforded by their Pagan gods that allows it to be so. With enough concentrated Bestows, they’ll go down.” He could just make out glaring red tail lights of the truck the Stalwarts drove fleeing before them. It mattered not if he lost sight of them, for he could detect their presence far past what his eyes allowed. He needed no headlights to see in the night and the van sped after the retreating truck like a giant black bullet. “They know their minutes are numbered. They must have been wounded before the battle even started. Why else seek out their best healer. We will crush them before sun up.”

Glooms

The only other female in the van, a Gloom, interrupted their silent communications. “I worry that the surroundings become more rural,” she said. “Perhaps they have no hide out and are just retreating into some random farm.”

“Wisp, are all Glooms as paranoid as you?” Pit’s voice kept its cruel edge. “You should be thankful that you’ll be honored by being with us when we eliminate the last Stalwart threat.”

“Their vehicle slows my mate,” Midnight said.

Wisp, who still had her wizen grey head between their chairs, “I think it’s stopped.”

“I know that,” Midnight affirmed quickly.

“Ready your weapons. Get ready to be the monster you’ve always wanted to be. We’re hunting Stalwart!” A ragged grunting cheer answered him and he wondered once again how he got stuck with such obtuse ‘allies.’

He knew an ambush would be impossible since their presence glared at him like to colorful splinters in the night. “They had already fled their vehicle. Get out, they’re fleeing, there’s no worry of attack.”

The other Xemmoni did as they were told and they eight of them entered the harsh cold of the Massachusetts winter. There was a trail wide enough to drive a car down on the other side of the Stalwart’s truck. The couple chuckled when Sender instructed the Caradon to help him flip the pickup over. 

Wisp appeared less pleased. “The sign here says, Easterbrook Forest. I was told never to fight Stalwarts in the wilderness.”

“Idiot! You would come all this way just to let them go? We could even just freeze them out if we had to.” But looking over at his mate he realized he wouldn’t be popular with her if he made her wait outside in the middle of the winter in just a mini skirt. 

“Sender, your kind can track by smell correct?”

“It’s actually done by following the trace particles-”

“Enough, do it find the trail.”

The Caradon began to grow and stretch.  They let out a howl and both their arms and legs elongated to twice their normal lengths. They looped into the woods, building speed as they went. Pit nodded and the Glooms drew their sickles and a fog began to grow within the forest as they joined the case. Wisp however remained close to the Darcarre. She kept her hooded back to them as though they might forget her foul presence.

He was just about to command her forward when the yelling started. Shouts of alarm became screams and the screaming was over far too quickly

“Pit,” his mate looked his way. “Perhaps we should…”

He saw that Wisp already fed toward the van and gave a shrill scream when the trees came alive and appeared to be attempting to draw and quarter her.

Within seconds both he and Midnight were also ensnared by the mighty bows of the trees.

Primus came walking out of the forest. A bloody axe filled his hands. “You know what the great thing about this spell is?” When his answer was only him witnessing their struggle to escape, the Stalwart continued.  “It doesn’t matter how resistant to Magick you might be, they are still only trees and trees hate Xemmoni… a lot.”

“I’ll show you Magick, fool!” Pit yelled as he sent his Black Veins Bestow crashing into the Stalwart.

Jack took a step back and grunted as the Bestow hit him. When he raised his face, a grin could be seen there. “That hurt. Congratulations. You get to die first.”

Pit’s awareness toppled through unconceivable pain long enough for him to figure out he had been decapitated two seconds before he died.

To be continued next Monday

Get in on the beginning of Jack’s Adventures Here!

Xemmoni

In Charge of My Own Demise Part V

Mace’s code 10 was taking longer than Dak would have hoped and soon he was forced to distract Lacy Law. Fortunately this wasn’t overly difficult, other than the keeping her icy hands off of him part. Dak just hoped that Erin wouldn’t be leading the way and find Lacy practically sitting on his lap as she was.

When the door to the hotel room was finally kicked open, Dak lunched to his feet, which lunched Lacy onto her ass. After emitting a very undignified chirp when she landed, Lacy suddenly sprung into action.

Lucy

“Come on Dak,” she yelled while delivering a karate kick to a Jumper’s face. The man went flying backwards into a wall, his face an angry smear. That would be enough damage to send that boy back to the Grafter’s cloning vats.

Since she was watching, he was forced to stun one of his own allies. When her kick took out another masked Jumper, Dak realized that his remaining allies were dwindling. He grabbed one of the Jumpers by his jacket and together they slammed into a wall. Dak winked at the man, then used his Flashgun to send a stunning beam of yellow energy into Lucy’s back. She fainted before she could turn, but he would have just blamed it on the Jumper anyway. 

Mace

When freed, Mace shook his hand. “I guess I finally owe you one.”

“After helping me with Erin you are more than even.”

“Or maybe you’re going to owe me again,” Mace said, as a smile spread over his bruised face. With his hand his gestured to two limp bodies that were being dragged into the room.

“What is this?”

“We can’t leave you looking like a incompetent can we.” His hand patted the side of Dak’s face. When he saw Dak’s look, it quickly jerked away. “These two Jumpers have broken a few of our laws. They’ll take the rap on your side of the law as their punishment.”

He was walking over to the unconscious Lacy as he spoke. “That will help your story, get you your first big Jumper bust, and get rib of these two dregs all in one move.”

“If I didn’t know better, I might think you set this all up.” Mace only smiled. “Hey don’t mess with her,” Dak started but it was already too late. Mace had found a small dagger somewhere and stabbed it into Lacy’s leg. It drew more sparks than blood. 

“Just as I thought, she has some type of cyber legs. I’d watch out for this one Dak.”

“You can count on it. Now, since you are still basking in the glow of my rescue, I wanted to talk to you about Matthews. He needs to be on the task force. I also think…”

                                               *        *        *

Erin was tapping her long pink nails against the glass table. Long blonde locks hid most of her face and only the side of her cute nose and her cherry lipped pout could be seen. “Okay what is it?”

Erin

She picked up a nail file without looking at him. “Mace told me you were getting pretty close to that reporter chippee.”

“Not as close as he was.” He couldn’t help but grin.

Turning towards him at last. “Mace doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Neither do I.” Her eyes went big, he let his words linger for a moment, “I have a lover.”

She softened. “I could see why that bionic bitch would be interested, but she needs to stay away from my man.”

“I wish she would, but I have a feeling that my new job is just going to be making things more complicated and difficult.”

She finally moved close enough for him to hold her. “Doctor Max knows what he’s doing. If he thinks this Task Force is a good thing with you at its helm, it probably is.”

“Better me than someone else, but it still is putting the flame on high.”

“You just have to make sure you don’t get set up.”

“Or that you don’t get dragged into things.”

That quieted her and she shivered against him. In the background the news was coming on. He had wanted to hear how they would cover the event, but when he heard Lacy Law’s voice and saw her cold piercing eyes, he turned the vid off.

Skinjumpers

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