| interstitial from Wrought Iron's Men of Might no. 4 |
[May. 29th, 2009|06:38 pm] |
Caption: "Really, there wasn't much of a choice. The League of Avatars was about as friendly as the Greco-Roman statuary they were modeled after; the Heroes Association got things done on the streets, despite their lack of funding, government recognition, or a stylish name and logo."
(Nobody really liked the name “Heroes Association”, since, as Phooka pointed out with some bitterness, legally most of them were mere vigilantes. Hortense, who had wound up as de facto chairman because she was the only one with a voice strident enough to get everyone’s attention, countered that all the other options either sounded stupid or were already taken. “Just be glad the initials don’t spell out anything rude,” she told him, and turned to the next item on the agenda. Of course, three weeks later someone somehow got wind of the whole thing and took out a full page ad in several of the national newspapers, captioned ‘HA. HA. The Heroes Association is a big joke.’ But the joke was on whoever put out the ad, as the general public (and most of the not-so-general public as well) was utterly unaware of the association and so dismissed the whole thing as a prank.) |
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| Interim |
[Apr. 19th, 2009|09:01 pm] |
The medicine had more of a kick than Ian remembered--probably because it was almost a year past its "use by" date--burning as it went down. But it soothed his throat enough that he could stop coughing every five minutes, enough so that he could lie down again and actually doze, even if he still couldn't get to sleep. He was too hot and too cold and too hot again, and the medicine couldn't do anything about that.
So he kept his eyes closed and pretended he could hear the dust motes falling around him, because he really didn't want to think about that faint rasp that echoed his every breath. Listened as hard as he could to the silence of the apartment, told himself he could hear all the books telling stories to each other. Told himself he wasn't waiting.
And he wasn't, after a while, no matter how aware he was of each second's slow passing.
The opening and closing of the door rang loud in the stillness, the rustle of paper bags almost explosive. Time started moving normally again.
"You asleep?" Gabe rested a cold hand against Ian's forehead. He sounded more amused than concerned, which was mostly comforting. A little more sympathy would be nice on occasion, but it was better than the near-hysterics Ian's mother always went into whenever anyone's temperature rose above 98.6 degrees.
"Not really," Ian said, and opened his eyes. |
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| Masks |
[Apr. 19th, 2009|08:49 pm] |
Falls early on in the second run of Wrought Iron's Tales of Bravery. Pygmalion created by Edward Haworthy.
( Masks ) |
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| from Brayhaw's Tales of the Wilderness |
[Apr. 19th, 2009|08:37 pm] |
In those days there were still beasts on the heights. (Now, this was before Jim Hogan spent a week and a half hacking back the undergrowth—it took the rest of the town nigh on a month to haul it all away and turn it to kindling or compost. Before that, you couldn’t walk ten paces into the woods without getting a face full of prickers or your coat being snagged on something. Edwin Jones tried to go farther in, once, and came out looking like he’d been in a fight with a polecat. Folks quit bothering with the place after that.) No one knew quite what kind of beast—some said sasquatch, some werewolf (despite that clearly being nonsense), others bigcat. Dr. Pimsoll held out that it was gargoyles, left over from the quarry, while Mama Habe insisted it was faeries, despite there never having been any seen within a hundred miles of the town.
But there were things in the woods on the heights (Benjamin’s Woods, that stretch was called, although no one remembered why, or who Benjamin had been. If there’d even been a Benjamin. Names have binding power, and sometimes it's best not to be tied to a place): that, everyone agreed on. |
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| on vampires and wraith |
[Apr. 19th, 2009|08:33 pm] |
They say that you can tell a wraith by the way its eyes look through you, by the sharpness of its teeth and the lack of appetite for anything but beer. They say you can tell a wraith by the way it kisses—as if it would swallow your soul—and the speckled scales down its back. (They don’t say anything about it being a little too late at that point.)
Despite the various folk tales that would seem to indicate otherwise, Earth has no such comforting lies about vampires. Forget sunlight and garlic and crosses; everyone knows that if (and pray God it stays “if”) someone is (becomes: that’s really the frightening thing) a vampire, you won’t know until you see them actually sucking someone’s blood.
The Earth people have both more and less hope than Teyla would have expected of people born free of the wraiths’ shadow. |
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| on the breaking of wards |
[Apr. 19th, 2009|08:28 pm] |
"Oi, Jensen--we've got wards over here!"
"Do we have a warrant for that?"
"Don't need one. There's a window, and bomb fragments clearly visible all over the floor. We just can't get to it. Needs your special touch." A year ago that would have been said mockingly, but now it was just banter, comfortably worn in and familiar.
*
The hardest thing about breaking a ward, Jensen has found, is that single moment after all the back-breaking preparation is done when he’s actually tapped into the spell and there’s magic trying to run through him two ways at once. (He knows that’s not actually what’s happening, but that’s what it feels like.) The moment after that he’s usually managed to pull the ward to pieces, but in that first instant he can feel how precariously he’s balanced on the edge of burning out, of having everything that’s him scorched away so that the only thing left is an empty shell.
Sometimes that instant lasts for a very long time. |
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| gargoyle |
[May. 21st, 2007|08:38 pm] |
gargoyle, decorative spout projecting from a building so as to throw out the rain water from its roof. The term may apply to the water outlets in the form of lion heads upon the cornices of Greek and Roman buildings and to other such spouts, but usually refers to the Gothic examples carved in the form of grotesque composite monsters leaning outward from parapets and cornices. Those of Notre Dame, Paris, are perhaps the most familiar. On churches they are in stone, while the gargoyles of minor and domestic buildings often are of lead. They are frequently used as anchors for the wards on the buildings. The term is also used in reference to the large stone cats which are found in most large cities in N America, Europe, N Africa, and W Asia. A few unsubstantiated sightings have been claimed in S India and China. The gargoyle’s substance is granite, marble, and rarely lead, with the corresponding range of colorations. There is no apparent differentiation of gender, nor have there been any sightings of gargoyle young. Larger specimens sometimes measure 8 to 11 ft. from nose to tip of tail, with weight proportionate to their substance. Despite its predatory form, the gargoyle eats only rock and occasionally metal. Gargoyles sometimes travel in groups. Usually they are not aggressive toward man. In general symbolism the gargoyle represents constancy and endurance. |
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| Postmarked |
[Apr. 12th, 2007|07:27 pm] |
Don’t want relatives to know where you’re writing from? Don’t feel like being chased by your creditors? Mail it here first, include the appropriate postage and a dollar per page, and we’ll send it off for you.
( Postmarked ) |
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| magical construct |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|11:03 pm] |
magical construct, term for any device which is powered by magic. In general use, refers to creatures created out of wire and bone, which are then animated and given rudimentary self-will, such as an animal might have. Most are created to serve as expensive, immortal pets, passed down through the passing generations of the owning family. Although they are not limited to one family, the more people they belong to, the more of a personality they develop. There are cases where the magical construct has gone mad, and was of necessity destroyed. They are also employed as finders of magically enhanced explosives and similar illegal devices, and as guards for places such as the presidential mausoleum. It is suspected that the living GARGOYLE which plagues most cities in Europe and North Columbia was once a construct that somehow managed to reproduce. Magical constructs are often referred to simply as ‘constructs’. |
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