Sunday, March 11, 2012

The sound of pounding rain mixes with the thundering pain in his heart. Thank the Gods for Allah's Light. He couldn't bear the thought that he inflicted so much on Pandora. He never saw himself as an abusive man, but now he wonders of what he is truly capable. He can feel the Deamon side still close, the pride that his woman took what he gave and accepted it, giving back love in return, and he slams a wall around that part of him.

With little effort Ob calls the turning. The storm gives him leeway to rise early. Touching his sisters he finds Ike still locked in stone sleep while Tori is stretching out kinks, but still stone instead of flesh. His brother on the other hand is up and about, rising early with the buffer of the heavy clouds. Another mind touches his, merely the "laying of hand against the cheek". It takes but a moment to realize it is Silk.

Josi, mi cooza, talk to me.

He opens to her, letting her see, knowing of anyone, she would understand. Her sigh is felt along with the sensation of a nod.

You regret what you did. But Pandora does not blame you. She understands. Do you think your witch would not blast you if you hurt her in a way that she did not accept? I think, cooza, that you are a lucky man. If she did not understand, you would find yourself blasted to rubble. Stop blaming yourself, and appreciate the woman who stole your heart. She pauses a moment. Besides... I think she needed that as much as you did. She is as angry at that woman as you are. Woe betide that Drow Witch if her forces touch any of the Nestlings. I will inform mi amor of this new threat when he wakes.

He feels her touch begin to slip away.


Si Josi?

Grazi. I love you cooza.

The smile that warms her thoughts is more than sisterly, nearly the feel of a mother's unconditional love. You are familia, Josephito. I will always be here if you need me, just reach out... Besides, you are not the only one who regrets, or is.... who despairs over what happens when their deamonic lineage shows. Keon could tell you stories of what he has seen of me... Your Nest has felt you stir. Go to them, they await you.

Her thoughts slip away and Ob steps onto the balcony into the pouring rain, letting it wash over his naked body, cleansing him as only nature can. Refreshed, and less angry at himself, Ob steps back inside and pulls out jeans and a vest. To hell with a shirt today. His feet slide into sandals and he pads downstairs, hair drying in a wild mane, and looking much like the rocker that first stepped through the Twisted Tit Tavern door so many years before.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments... we get comments....