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Gabby: Garden Party
She could hear the plants, the capillary action of water and nutrient flowing up from roots to leaves, storing, waiting for the dawn, as she wrapped her arms around the bishop. So lost. So grown into the delusions of others. Not enough to be what you are, no, you have to think that God made you extra special. Has to have a holy meaning. Can't just ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: Pausing on a Thursday
Something pulled her away from the humming simplicity of machines and files, startling her out of her chosen absorption with the work, in the moment. Something... there. Ah, an email from Uncle Ethan.
She shook her head, as if to clear it, and waited for the response, idly tossing a set of coins on the table. Her mind analyzed and noted the results ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: A Phone Call's Response
She ended the call with the click of her mouse, and stared at her monitor, unseeing.
Oh Cassie, she thought. What did you do to yourself?
She had thought... that they... could take care of themselves. Was she wrong? She supposed it would be indicated by the speed at which they got her up again, found a comfortable solution.
When she thought of home, ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: Light Shines on Madness
Author's note: This is a conclusion that might be drawn about someone familiar to many people who read this journal. If you'd like to skip it so that you can come to the conclusion on your own, you do that.
When a new day reaches dawn
I feel it's worth the wait
But I tumble and I fall
When up against my fate
She was dreaming, in the stillness of ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: While in Russia
The tiny little girl was a witch. That had to be the reason. Most of them probably thought Gabby was clever and fun, possessed of a wicked sense of humor and a too-sharp tongue. Now they knew better - her teasing mischief had almost become a torment, an exercise in making them think quicker, move faster, solve more complex problems of logistics, ( Read more... ) -
Marianne: The Stuff of Generations
Marianne Leroy-Miller knelt in her garden, carefully digging out the weeds from around the tomato plants, under a damp and humid sky. She inhaled, smelling manure and a coming rain. She rubbed her hand against her forhead, leaving a muddy smear against her pale skin, and moved on to check the raspberry bushes ( Read more... ) -
Giselle: An Evening In Atlantic City
Note: This is the harpy report. It went to the appropriate distributions and is not otherwise considered common knowledge. It is posted here for your amusement.
It was not boring, my dears, no not at all.
Our Vox Dominus treated us to a lovely serenade of "Tumbling Tumbleweeds" and some other western favorites. What a remarkable talent!
Speaking of ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: Broken Rules
Mine, not theirs, mine.
It wasn't just the voice of her beast whispering to her. It was her heart, in agreement for once with that other, darker voice. She found herself rising to the killing edge, only holding herself back through strength of will.
She threw her mind against his, showing him the rage that began to overwhelm her.
Is my little one ( Read more... ) -
Gabby: A Beginning
I come to you with strange fire
I make an offering of love
The incense of my soul is burned
By the fire in my blood
I come with a softer answer
To the questions that lie in your path
I want to harbor you from the anger
Find a refuge from the wrath
There was a time, Gabby reflected, as she wired the cables in the rafters, coated in a patina of filth and ( Read more... ) -
Giselle's Reflection
I grow tired of a society of murderers that claims to be anything else. That is all they are, behind their elaborate masks.
At least Body Count is honest about it.