Music: As Above, So Below

Essenger and Cryoshell:

Eshdan'danvallor: Memories of The Fall

Dandan woke suddenly, shivering in his bed and drenched in sweat. It was the same old dream: he'd been flying towards the Heart of Knowledge, wings strong as rode the winds... and then his wings were gone, and he tumbled and fell, the air tearing at him as he plummeted towards the distant earth. Mountains like spears below him, the sky on fire above, his magics expended and his protections broken. 

He shivered again as he forced his breathing back under his control. An Elf of his venerable years should have no need of sleep, but even after all these centuries there were too many nights when he couldn't summon the calm necessary for the restoring trance. 

His blade still hung on the wall above his bed. Perhaps it was an ill reminder, but he still felt safer having it nearby -- and their link remained unbroken after all this time. "Have I been neglecting you?" he asked, and lifted the weapon down. 

It shivered in his hand, having shared his nightmare; the sword remembered just as he did. He kept his hand on its hilt, and finally felt it settle. "I'm sorry, old friend, I hear I've been neglecting you."

The sword quivered, but the sense he got from it was warm, forgiving. Still... yes, it would not hurt to practice again. It never paid to let the reflexes grow slack, though it had been a century and a half since anything truly threatened him. Still, word was everywhere of the Viscount's sudden return, of horrors encountered in the mines, and the desperate need for assistance from the Temple of Obdyros. He could hear the words yet unspoken, trace the shape of the coming winds.  

Yes, he would spend the morning at blade-practice. And if the newly-arrived heroes didn't come to him, he would seek them out himself. Perhaps it was word of the arrival of their airship that had triggered his nightmare, or perhaps they were the answer to it. Impossible to tell as yet; the future was endlessly predictable and endlessly malleable, and for all his skill he was no diviner. 

"Come, my friend," he said, and belted his blade on over his robe. "Let me find some breakfast, and then we can renew our strength."

Music: Vatican Rag

A bit from Tom Lehrer that's been lurking in my head for a couple of days now: 

StV: Precognition In Action

"This is the proposal," Dianna Salvatore said, gesturing to the screen. "Saint-Vincent and I can't bankroll the whole thing, not without returning to some activities that we both find distasteful. But you're still in the game. You have capital and to spare."

Bernie nodded slowly. "An automated factory. Producing what, exactly?"

"Mobility aids, for the moment. Powered braces like the pair that Saint-Vincent uses to walk."

"They look a bit clumsy," said Bernie, automatically pitching his tone to sound dubious.

Dianna caught his eye, and a slight grin quirked her lips. "Too late, old friend. I know you were impressed."

Bernie chuckled. "Caught me," he said, pausing to study the light green skin of his fingers before touching the screen to enlarge the blueprint in front of him. "And you say one of your students came up with this?"

Dianna nodded. "Armor. She's... this is her particular Anomaly." 

"Impressive," Bernie admitted. "So you basically have the sole source on this, and you can patent and produce it -- or license it out."

"Exactly," Dianna told him. "You'd get a cut of the profits, but we'd basically feed the rest back into getting Armor set up with the materials and infrastructure she needs for her inventions. Well, that and the school -- we've picked up a few more students who can't afford tuition than is really good for our finances."

Bernie chuckled. "Including, I'd guess, some of the ones who came to my rescue." 

"Yes, they--" Dianna trailed off, straightening. Her expression went blank as she stared into the distance. "Shit. You're in danger. They'll be waiting at your apartment when you get back. You don't die, because I send one of the teams back with you, but you're hurt."

Bernie frowned. "Age of Rebirth?"

Dianna nodded. "Yeah. And while I didn't actually see it, I'd bet good money that if they take you out, they'll come after my students next."

Bernie sighed. "I did warn them, but I guess they chose violence instead."

Dianna leaned down and pulled up the school's chat program. Bernie didn't recognize it; it was something proprietary, and probably highly secured. A window popped up, and Dianna said, "Larry? Can you get Team Phoenix together and have them meet us in front of the Office? And see if the new uniforms are ready."

StV: The Prophet and the Acolyte, Part Two

"I hear," intoned the Prophet. 

"I pray," Janet responded. "There has been progress since my last report. I located three of the other Deviants. They are students together at a particular school just outside of Eugene, Oregon. Likely their other friends are there as well. And Bernard Creswell has been in touch; he called me directly."

"I see," said the Prophet. "And have they been silenced?"

"You left it to me to choose the best method for that," Janet reminded him. "Creswell assures me that he will remain silent, and see that the students do as well. In return, he demands that we return his money, leave the students alone, and cease eliminating the Damned when they show their Deviant natures. He suggests that we refer them to him instead, and that we warn prospective members in advance that the unworthy will be Damned instead of Blessed."

"Does he?" The Prophet blinked. 

"Your Holiness, this could affect the success of the New World," Janet said carefully. "I know how I would judge, but I did not wish to proceed without your approval."

"Your wisdom does you credit," answered the Prophet. "How would you judge?"

"Destroy him immediately," she said, "before he can make arrangements to take this to the public, as he threatens. Then remove the students with some plausible accident. Finally, add further security to the Purifyings, to ensure that nothing like this happens again."

"Yes," said the Prophet. "I entrust this to your care. I will inform Gabriel that he is to follow your commands in this, and I will provide you with an additional Angel to watch over you until the matter is resolved. Use them wisely."

"Until the New World," Janet said, and released a breath as the Prophet cut the connection.

Challenge: Favorite Hobby

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews. I kind of fell off last year, so we'll see how I do with it this year.)

Prompt: Your Favorite Hobby And Why

It's writing. You knew it was going to be writing. Of course it's writing. 

I do it constantly. I do it to entertain myself, I do it entertain other people, I do it to explore and organize my thoughts and feelings, I do it because it's cheaper than therapy. Even when the boys were young and I could barely find two minutes to rub together for myself, I was still writing. Even when I'd given up martial arts, climbing, game nights, and everything else, I was writing. 

I do still enjoy climbing; the combination of physical effort, coordination, and just, well, being way up high really works for me. (I am, however, here to tell you that it is not as easy as it used to be!) 

I miss doing martial arts, and the various sorts of swordfighting I used to do (fencing, SCA, etc.) I may even get back to them at some point; we'll have to see.

But writing? Writing has been part of my life since I was about twelve, and I don't see it going away.

 

StV: The Limits of Power

"Holy shit, Ben," Maria said, plopping down on the bench beside him. "I had no idea you could do that."

"Oh hey Maria," he said, looking up from his phone. "Yeah, I don't talk about it much."

Ben was lean and medium-tall, with black hair and golden-brown skin. His smile showed a double row of even white teeth, and he was grinning broadly now at her surprise. 

"Why not?" she asked. "I mean, with an ability like that you could easily be on one of the teams."

"You should know about that," he said. "But all right, I'll tell you: it's because when I do that, when I surround myself with rocks like that, it gets... sticky, you know? Like, the longer the rocks are there, the more they want to stay. And I don't want to be Rock Guy. I like sleeping in a normal bed. So I only use it for short periods. Fine for being part of your practice, but if joined a team I might have to keep it on for too long. Or I'd be turning it back off before it was safe."

"Oh," said Maria, taking a moment to digest that. "Well that makes sense."

"Yeah. They asked, but... naw. No teams for me."

"Well it was still a damned cool power," Maria told him.

"Thanks. You'll probably see it again. They like to pull me in for these."