%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 Musicology Anthology Entry |
| Notes ▼ "I'm done sitting back Leigh. I'm done watching them TAKE whatever they want… DO whatever they want… with no fucking consequences.” Wren’s raised voice ricocheted off the walls of the compact living area as she paced the floor like a caged tiger. “If no one has the balls to stand up for them… for us… then I will. I’ll be the damn consequences.” "You're angry…" Leigh replied, as she tried to placate her friend. This was the third time they'd had this conversation in as many days; each time Wren had stepped through the door after her nightly prowl, she had been agitated and restless. "Of course I'm angry! You should be angry…” “I am!” Wren tsked and threw her hands up in frustration. “Everyone should be angry! We should be rioting in the Goddess damn streets! But no one… No one even bats an eye anymore. They just turn and walk away… Refusing to get involved… It's happening right in front of their faces, again and again, and nobody seems to see a damn thing. It's bullshit! This whole place is full of hypocrites!” “I know. But what can we do?” Leigh asked softly, as she stood at the small wooden table, crushing rose petals and juniper berries in her pestle. She looked out of the window and into the quiet street. The sun was peaking over the thatched roofs of the surrounding houses, bathing the straw with a small golden halo that almost made it look like it was on fire. It was deceptively peaceful. Wren was right. The wolves had grown bolder and more brazen with each passing moon and the humans had done nothing about it, aside from pandering to their whims; offering up their wives and daughters as collateral in their delusional bid for a shred of control. “We could start a revolution?" Wren raged. "Burn them in their dens as they sleep?” Leigh chuckled and shook her head. “It’s no wonder you and Baal get on so well, you are both vicious creatures…” She sighed and turned to give her friend her full attention, wiping her hands clean on the long folds of her skirt. “What will any of that achieve - other than land us behind bars… or at the gallows?” “There would be less rapists and murderers on the streets… How about that for a start?” “Really? You think that would make any difference? We cut off one head and more will rise above the parapet. It's an epidemic.” “Then we exterminate them… All of them. We send a message.” “The human makes a good point,” Baal interrupted. “I am fully on board with irradicating the overgrown furballs and the impotent humans. I will even dispose of the bodies for you – I have not had a good feed in months.” “Goddess damn it Baal, if you don’t stop appearing out of nowhere, I am going to put a collar on you!” The demon folded his arms across his chest and growled low in his throat, “Try it, Witch… I dare you.” His pitch-black eyes fixed on Leigh's face, while he bared his sharp dagger-like teeth in a gruesome grin. The sight would make most people balk and run for cover, but there was a twitch to his curled lip that made Leigh roll her eyes, fighting a smirk of her own. “You are not helping! Go do something useful!” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated by her familiar’s constant drive for blood, souls, and general destruction. "And put a shirt on." "No! It is hotter than Hel in this place," Baal huffed and threw himself down on the cot in the corner of the room. “Feet!" yelled Leigh, “Paws! Claws! Whatever the Hel you have right now! I don’t want mud on my bed again!” She turned back to Wren, “What exactly are WE going to do? What message do you want to deliver? That we're no better than them? We could make things far worse. The Lycans will not take any insurrection lightly. They will retaliate. And it will be the very people you are trying to protect that are in the firing line.” “We can't keep doing nothing. We're fucked either way. Might as well hit back at them while we can. Prove to them that blood will be met with blood. That they can't outrun Karma?” "Wren…" "Don’t Wren me.” Leigh crossed the room and placed a gentle palm on her friend's face, guiding her gaze up to meet her own. “This is madness… You are talking about the impossible.” “Am I? Really? Because you of all people know how possible the impossible really is!" she sighed, "Think about it Leigh… They won't even know something's going on until it's too late. And who's to say the dumb mutts will ever cotton on fully. You are smart and I am capable… between the two of us… three if we count the demon… we can come up with something. "Like what?" "Well, you know more about phytotoxicology than anyone I know.” Wren’s eyes burnt brightly. “Phytotoxicology? You want to kill them with plants?” Leigh questioned sceptically. Wren laughed, “Yeah. I mean, come on! You know more about this stuff than anyone by a country mile, right. You know which plants are toxic and to which species, which ones can be masked, the ones that will mimic natural causes… Never mind where to find them and how to process them without, ya know, killing us." “And if we get caught?” Leigh asked. “We won’t…” She shook her head. “I’m a witch… people start dying in strange, mysterious circumstances who do you think they are going to blame.” “Oh please… Willard doesn’t know his arse from his elbow and thinks testicles make him superior. He doesn’t even trust you to steep the elderberries for the winter cold tincture because he refuses to accept your competency – do you honestly think he’d let anyone look your way…” “He wouldn’t be a problem if you would just let me eat him,” snarked Baal from the bed. His large frame was too big for the straw mattress, his back taking up most of the space, while his legs hung haphazardly over the edge with a foot balanced on the floor. Leigh glared at him. His eyes were closed, and a forearm was thrown casually over his face, resting gently on the spiralled, white horns that protruded through his dark hair and curved backwards across his scalp. They were a recent addition to his demon form. He looked far too comfortable. At home. Wren bent over and laughed, “Goddess Baal, don’t ever change.” “Not a chance in Annwyn, Human.” “You two are not a good influence on each other,” Leigh sighed, then nodded her head as she considered her best friend's proposition. It was true. Her boss was an idiot. It wouldn’t be difficult to run circles around him. “And what about you? Hmm? What’s your role in this master plan?” she asked. “Simple, you teach me how to administer the stuff and I’ll see that it’s delivered to the correct 'patients',” Wren’s voice rose with excitement. “I haven’t agreed to anything. Stop smiling at me like a maniac. Both of you…” “Come on Leigh… We can do this?” “How would we know who to choose? We can't go around killing random people for the sake of it.” “I beg to diff-” “BAAL, SHUT UP!” The demon huffed again and muttered under his breath. “It’s simple,” Wren began, "We listen, and we watch.” “For what?” “There is a network of disgruntled women out there. All we have to do is listen at the markets. To the secrets whispered in hushed voices behind lace fans. To the gossiping whores and fishwives. We take note of the bruises you heal and bones you reset... repeatedly. It’s a human radio out there – everyone is broadcasting loud and clear if we pay enough attention. And then we send a message.” “If we just make it look like accidents and natural causes, how will anyone get the message.” “The women will know. Rumours are quick to start. Especially, in this town. We’d need some type of calling card of course. A signature. Something subtle that doesn’t stand out… at least not right away…” “What about floriography?” A smile spread across Leigh's face as the idea came to her. Wren's brow furrowed. “What the hell is that when it’s at home?” “It’s the language of flowers,” Leigh explained. “Each plant has a meaning. The type of flower, the colour, even the number of stems and their arrangement denote a message to the receiver. It’s how secret lovers used to communicate.” “Lovers?” Wren scoffed, “We are not passing sonnets.” “Maybe not, but there are a few plants that have negative connotations.” “Like?” “Well roses symbolise love and are seen as romantic, but a black rose means death and despair, lilies are linked to innocence and peace, unless they are orange which means hatred.” “What about tansies?” Baal said as he stood from the bed and walked towards them. “Tansies?” Wren questioned. “They are those yellow fern-like plants that grow wild out in the back meadow,” Leigh answered, her eyes fixed on Baal in surprise. “What? I know things… I’m not just a pretty face.” Leigh rolled her eyes and ignored him. The last thing he needed was his ego stroked. If he thought she was impressed, he would never let it go. “They are a declaration of war,” she said in response. “War? I like the sound of that...” Wren grinned wide, flashing her teeth, her cheeks pinched like an overstuffed hamster. “I thought you might” Leigh tried to fight the smile spreading across her face. But she hadn’t seen her friend this excited in a long time. “They are deadly in a high enough quantity too, but safe enough to process.” “Even better-” “I can help,” Baal interrupted as he slung an arm across Leigh's shoulder and darted his gaze between the two women. “Please, let me help,” he begged, popping his bottom lip out in a subtle pout. “You want to help?" Leigh shrugged free from the loose embrace and turned to study his face carefully. "Mm-hmmm" he hummed, nodding his head. "How are you going to do that?” “You are talking about going on a killing spree and I happen to be responsible for thousands of deaths… I could be an asset.” “He has a point,” Wren mused. “And, if we do this… we will be painting targets on our backs, ones we will never escape. Having hell spawn on our side would be helpful. Especially, with the non-human targets.” “What about the Guild?” Leigh asked, “This goes against their code. You busted your butt to get in. This will get you thrown out… Expelled.” “Roux won’t let that happen. And, anyway, if we get caught, our necks will be stretched… publicly. The Guild will be the least of my worries. Are you with me or not?” Wren whispered and glanced at her friend, “I... I need you with me on this Leigh. I can't do it without you." "When am I NOT with you, my little psychopath!” she grinned. “Says the necromancer with a demon for a pet.” “I AM NOT A PET!” “Of course not.” Leigh tapped his cheek gently and grinned as she grabbed the lavender mead from the shelf along with three cups. She collapsed on to the cushions at the front of the hearth, dragging Wren with her and gestured the demon to join them. She filled the wooden chalices and passed them around. “A toast…” she began. “To death and destruction!” Baal cut in. “To revenge!” Wren shouted. “Yes… to revenge!” Leigh clinked her cup and brought the heavily scented liquor to her lips, savouring the sweet taste. Tonight was about the mead. Tomorrow would mark the start of a new era. Lyrics ▼ |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
