Truth and Love Are Oft Close Friends, But Not Until We Add The Sameness Of The Spirit Do We Find The Blossoming Of The Soulmate Emerge Into The World.

Victoria, a wonderful name that had served her for more years than she would care to admit. She would, in moments of humor, admit to stealing it from the Queen, she had loved the way it rolled off of her tongue the first time she had said it aloud and decided to simply become Victoria, and she had been doing that ever since. In time another name would take hold of her mind and she would become the person that name required her to be. Victoria lent itself to pomp, circumstance, elegance and wealth. All of those things were pleasant so the transition was an easy and quick one. Buying some properties here, having a fleet of horses there. It had bee decades before she had to use a little glamour to make people come back to the path she wanted them to walk on because it was a simpler time. There was no Internet and Television, hell radio wasn’t even a thing yet. So when she claimed her wealth and showed it, she was respected on that alone. It is when the communication became so blasted easy that she had had to modify a few things.

The knock upon her dressing room door made her shake herself from her cobwebbed mind and she made sure she used her voice to maximum effect as she answered the knock. “But a moment lovelies, I am putting my face back on, can’t let a Goddess be seen without her makeup now can we?” She waited for and smiled at the laughter she had expected and quickly moved her hands over her body and her clothes shifted into what she needed. No longer on stage, the regal bearing had to go, she needed intimate, approachable, so it was simple cloths, muted colors, showing off the marks just so that they would understand what she was and where she came from, to a point.

Standing, she walked to the door and prepared her best smile as she pulled it open. Before her was quite a dapper man, mid-fifties she suspected. His smile as real as any she had seen in some time and she looked over to Lou, who gave her a subtle nod and she opened the door wider and the man walked through the door.

Now is when the reasons these people came to see her would become crystal clear.

The man had sat down, his hands politely in his lap without showing nerves. His eyes followed her but not with the puppy dog-like adoration she sometimes saw in the men, and women, who came back to see her after the show. No, he wasn’t here to try and play Fuck the Fae, there was a deeper purpose to it and seeing as she knew precisely how much Lou charged people to even knock on the door, whatever he was here for was very important to him indeed.

—–

He looked up at the woman as she closed the door without noise and made her way to the very comfortable divan in the corner of the room. She looked at him with eyes that expected absolutely nothing. No rush or worry, nothing except patience he had never seen in anyone before. he had a feeling she could recline on that divan for years without moving a muscle and not be irritated with him at all if she so chooses. Sadly, the man had a limited amount of time to be here, so he took a chance and decided to get right to the point.

“Madame Victoria, I know that you must have a great many people come into your room and ask you for favors ranging from the rudimentary mundane to things laced with that which is phantasmagorical in all of its essences. I am here to ask of you a boon, yes, but I hope that you will hear me out before you decline.” His eyes looked to hers to see what her reaction thus far.

She smiled softly to him and sat up, her fingers steeples in her lap as she spoke. Her voice was not as honeyed as it had been on stage, but, of course, it wouldn’t be now, would it?

“Firstly, I haven’t heard someone utter the word phantasmagorical in over a hundred years. It is a word that has sadly fallen out of favor in the day and age of the text message and the acronyms for virtually everything. Secondly, I give you my word on the Darkness that Consumes that I will listen to your request and give it every bit of my attention before I judge it as a deed I am willing to do.”

He swallowed as he heard Victoria speak the oath on the Darkness. He was not an expert in such things, but he knew it was not words that her kind used lightly, the consequences of being an oathbreaker were dire if the memory served. Even he had heard of the Wild Hunt and their eternal mission to bring oathbreakers to justice who had sworn such an oath.

“For your pledge to even hear my plea I will gladly give you everything in my name.” He straightened his back as he sat as his mother had taught him so very long ago. “My name is Bertran, I was born in the year of our Lord eleven hundred thirty and five in the cathedral at Carlisle in Cumbria. My dear mother was an indigent who felt shame at having a son out of wedlock, her beau having left her after they had consummated their relationship, his promise of marriage a lie, and she was an outcast. her family disowned her and only the church would allow her sanctuary to give birth to me. We lived there until I came of age, helping in the maintenance of the church, my mother taking her vows when I left to seek my own life.” he stopped speaking and noticed that Madame Victoria looked at him with piercing eyes, seeking anything she could from him. She spoke, her voice not hiding the emotion welling up in her throat.

“You speak to truth to me Bertran of Carlisle. You are not of any Fae line, nor are you of the darkness that makes the immortal promise to the weak, tell me now why you have lived nearly nine centuries as a man of flesh and blood and no magic and have not died. Tell me this now and swear upon the Darkness your words will be true or I shall deliver to you the Hunt myself.” Her words sounded bloodied even to her own ears, but she needed to know how this man existed. She felt not afraid of him, to be with someone even a thousandth of her own age made her feel youth she had not felt since the glaciers still shaped the world.

Victoria swallowed hard, her eyes welling with tears as she read the man’s story in the same writing that adorned her body She learned everything he was at that moment. The magic of the writing told her more than simply words. She composed herself, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Forgive my emotion, I thought all of them had died long before you were born. No, you are of them, you are the descendants of those that gave me the godhead. So, as the Goddess you did not know your whole life, I swear on the Dark Goddess herself, may her wrath upon me be eternal if I break my oath, that I will do anything you ask of me if it is in my power to do.” She stood and quickly made her way to him and kissed him softly on the forehead. As she did the lines, on her and him glowed as the sun as like recognized like.

Do Not Hesitate To Give. Everything and Anything. Purely Because You Are Told To, Or Do You Even Need That? You Love Her Don’t You? You Want To Make Your Dark Goddess Happy, Yes?

The viscous fluid that ran through Victoria’s fingers glowed colors randomly and rapidly as she began to talk about the Great Goddess.

“Her story is told elsewhere by others, so I will tell you a small thing about her that is mine to tell. I will tell you about times when the world was not as it is now when all you saw was what you were directed to see by those with powers you could not imagine. Gods and Goddesses walked amongst you and all you could do was stare at their perfection with abject adoration.” She paused a second, her voice wonderfully decadent, like velvet on the soul of everyone there. Her words touched them in dark and secret places that some of them did not even know they had until that very moment.

Victoria took the fluid from her hands and let it drip on the stage in front of her, the stage disappearing as she did, her chair turning into the stump of a once-mighty tree, the theater about her slowly shifting into a great and natural amphitheater made of the white marble that sculptors sought very dearly. The wind caught their hair and their eyes closed as they breathed in the air of a world long since gone.

“Siobhan is the Dark Goddess, the Creator, and Destroyer of anything and everything. Don’t dare think that she is cruel for the sake of it, however. Every action is measured and calculated, every result fixed and known, every variable accounted for. She is everything, everyone, every place.” Victoria smiled at the awestruck cloud, babes in the woods looking at the colors brighter than they had ever seen, the air so clean you could taste it and enjoy it like a lover’s touch.

“I will teach you a word now. Badhbh. Badhbh is a word that is layered in meaning and mysticism, but all you need to know is that when one sees the Badhbh, the battle has already begun and you will die.” her voice turned dark, clouds covering the perfect sky above them, the smell of blood and other things replacing the cleanliness of the air. Flies could be heard feasting on the dead. “Badhbh is what you will never forget, you will always remember, you will deny.” They were hers now, they would be hers forever now and they happily accepted this fate and that is where the power truly was.

Victoria clapped her hands once, a loud and thunderous thing and they were all sitting back in the auditorium once again, their memories muddied with the pleasure and joy they felt, the last words buried deep in their subconsciousness where they needed to be hidden until…until later.

Standing up tall and letting the wings on her back unfurl completely the crowd erupted with applause and cheers in a dozen languages. They did not notice or did not care, that they had been sitting there for three hours that seemed like a second. Roses were thrown on the stage. Lecherous men throwing hotel cards and keys on stage, a smaller amount of women doing the same thing if a little more discreetly. Victoria smiled darkly and happily and heard the microphone pop into life again.

“Thank you so much for attending, the Goddess will see a limited amount of people for a meet and greet in a few moments. All gifts and tributes can be given to her directly if you are chosen to meet her, all others, please simply throw it on the stage and I assure you the Goddess will know where it came from and you shall receive her blessing.

Victoria kissed her fingertips and pointed them at the crowd, each of them feeling the intimate nature of it on a deep level and the whole of them silencing for a moment as she did it before walking back to her dressing room with a laugh starting on her lips and the old plan in her mind still slowly coming to life.

The Die Is Cast, The Characters Made, The Names Given, The Scene Set, The Master Story Teller Waits With A Curled Lip Smile As She Knows What Is To Come

The pain. By Siobhan Herself the Pain!

The pain spread in every direction, every fiber of his being was in agony, and yet it was a thing he knew he simply needed to push through somehow. He opened his eyes wide as the pain hot its crescendo and saw his Goddess before him, beckoning him, welcoming him home and back to where he always belonged, with her, for her. He opened his mind to speak to her, to ask her why it hurt so bad, but what came out was not words, not anything that even sounded like words.

It was a roar, a growl, an avian screech, a violent and dark noise that comforted him in its intensity even if he did not understand it. He tried again to speak and the sounds from his mouth got even louder, the air seemingly shaking around him as the sound moved through it. He did not know if he was going to be able to take any more pain. He was so strong, but there was a levy within that was about to be breached. One last noise exited the old Dara, a noise that was pain and agony, suffering and fear. Not his, no not his.

Even as the last sound exploded from him, Dara felt his arms move backward and fuse with the wings he wore proudly on his back. He looked down to the ground, so very far below him now and saw his feet and legs were mottled black and red, wider than the massive tree trunks he had run through and his entire body was covered in the same coloring, the same texture. Dara went to breathe out as panic set in and flame gushed from between his lips, a tornadic blast of wind and fire that shot thousands of feet in front of him and lit the sky up brighter than the sun with its intensity for a moment before fading to nothingness.

Panic vanished, the pain vanished, in fact, he who had been known as Dara vanished completely and Beithíoch lifted into the air with hundred-foot long wings and the mark of his Goddess emblazoned on his chest in the form of the all-seeing eye of amethyst. He leaned his head back, newly extended on a great neck and roared once more. In triumph, joy, love eternal for what he thought had just occurred. Just as he thought this his Goddess appeared to him again and held her hand out to him and waited for him to come to her through the ether of space, time and the very earth itself.

With a final roar that seemed to shake the sky itself, Beithíoch flew towards Her, his heart glad as the sky wrapped itself around him and tool him to her at last.

—-

Neart laid down upon the heather soft grass of the field around her, covered in the wonders of the family she came from, climbing on her, in her. Her mouth lolled open to allow them to be one with her as she felt the surge from within her begin and she knew what was to happen. She did not know why she knew, but all that was happening was exactly as it should be.

Her legs started first, lengthening and turning a black pitch that reflected nothing and light seemingly vanished into. There was no time to appreciate as both of those long and perfectly legs split in twain starting at the feet and racing upward like a thunderbolt. Then again. And again. Eight legs there were now, each slowly turning into the void of the darkness of its mates. Her eyes closed, forever in the form they were in now and when she next opened them she had the two eyes she had, but besides them were six others that let her see things eyes could not. Heat, the depths of the earth, the wind blowing and the patterns in made in the sky. Tears leaked from them as the love of this newfound her took hold and she felt everything from her breasts downward swell, not in fat or in pregnancy, just growing with taut muscles and the skin mirrored her legs in their blackness.

An eternity, or was it a moment, later, she who was formally Neart stood tall on her eight legs, her head above the tallest of the trees and when she opened her eyes she saw the world in ways none save her Goddess could see. She stepped with the legs as if she had always had them and her family followed her, each of them taking the size of a small down to follow her at speed. She moved faster and faster, her legs stepping between the trees and her speed was violent and wonderful.

From eyes no one had ever had she saw Siobhan beckon her and without hesitation, she turned towards her and walked into the arms of the Mother Goddess of the Universe.

Madame Victoria

With carefully manicured nails, long red gloves slid up her arms. The leather soft and pliable after so many years. The red was vibrant and electric, like a stoplight that you barely run even though you knew it wasn’t going to be yellow anymore. Specially designed fingertips allowed her fingers to slide through and show the delightful palette of color that was her fingernails and not show the rest of her fingers or hand, or anything until just below the bend in her elbow. Black boots that came just past her knees and stopped just as her delightful thighs began were already laced up in their convoluted artistry, each lace a magical dance over the others and all of them perfectly arrayed to show the best of the boots and, more importantly, the legs that wore them.

The clock over the door made that annoying twang that told her it was ten minutes after seven. If nothing, it was an accurate thing for at least that. Boots and gloves on, overcoat covering anything and everything in between, it was time for the show to begin.

—–

The audience was, as always, full to the rafters. They even sold tickets for places to stand and even though people bitched about how much it was, no one ever refused a ticket if there was a chance to buy one. If you had never been or were a celebrity that came nearly daily, you never resisted the urge to get the ticket, sit down and enjoy the most spectacular sight in the entirety of Montreal.

The lights dimmed and brightened several times to indicate that the show was about to begin. Everyone with a seat took it, went to their assigned standing spot or, for the lucky few who snuck in, sat high in the rafters above the lights and the sound technicians to see the greatest thing that the world had ever seen.

—–

Standing behind the curtain was torture, she hated hiding from people before the show, then again, it always was such an explosive event when it all happened the way that they had planned it year after year.

She heard the pop of the mic being turned on and she got her face ready.

She loved this part as much as she hated the waiting.

—–

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage one the most fantastic beings your eyes will ever see and the most wonderful woman your hearts can imagine.”

The curtain exploded upward in a puff of purple smoke and there she stood, on stage, at last, every eye of the three thousand souls in the building glued to her. She was the Flame and they were the petit papillon de Nuit to her raging inferno. She waited the three seconds and heard the announcer come back on with a shout, lust and wonder in his voice as he finished the best line in the history of show business anywhere in the world.

“Madame Victoria, the forgotten Faerie Goddess.”

The crowd was so loud it was a white noise that soothed everything Victoria rolled her shoulders a single time and the overcoat fell from her like a shimmering waterfall. Her hair was a deep purple, her skin the most cocoa of browns, at least for the moment. Her eyes were iridescent in the theater lights and, of course, the great double wings that sprouted from her back were the color of old blood left too long in a puddle. She winked at the crowd and walked forward to allow them to feed just as she did.

Showtime.

Reborn

Y’all want to see what the Bear loves to write, y’all are going to get to see what the motherfucking Bear loves to write. Gaelic words are translated on mouseover.

Let’s get Evil


There was Nothing, and then Everything.
She was Absent, Then She was Present.
Eternity wound down to a single Moment.

—–

The Dark Goddess opened eyes that she did not remember closing and looked over the masses of Her people looking at Her with concern and even panic on their faces. The chief of her personal guard, Dara, knelt before her, black wings folded tightly against his nude form, his eyes cast downward, not wanting to meet his Mistress in the eye for he was not worthy of such an honor.

“Bandia na Háilleachta,” pray, tell us that vision you have seen and what has kept you for so overly long. Were we unworthy? Have we offended you so?” His head never rose, and his tone was low and almost groveling. His wings shook as he took a deep breath, finally asking what he had been trying to for so long.

Siobhan cocked her head to one side, then the other as she looked down upon him whom she trusted more than anything. She admired the muscles of his back and the glory of the wings she had given him so very long ago. “Dara, you know that such a thing could not happen twixt you and I. I am befuddled though, why do you say I have been gone so overly long when I just closed my eyes but a moment to collect myself?” She stood and took the two steps down from her dais and placed long and ivory white fingers, tipped with nails like onyx, on his shoulder.

He shuddered as he felt the connection with the Goddess return to him, and he dared look up into the amethyst eyes of his Creator, and when he spoke, there was no fear in it, not towards her, He could never find fault in his Goddess. Who had made her say the thing she just said, who can have such power to make her say that?

“My Bandia, you have been in a slumber for a ten-thousand score of years. We waited, as you commanded, never moving a single limb. You genuinely do not remember your commandment to us? Has someone done something to you, Bandia, for if they have, your Dara will bring you their entrails so that you might read the cause of such an atrocity upon them?

Siobhan blinked her eyes a single time and went to a single knee and kissed her Dara on the top of his head while whispering things only he could ever know. She spoke quickly, and it was evident to all that watched that even though they could not hear what their Bandia was saying, there was fury coming off of her like smoke from a fire. Dara lifted his head and finally met her eyes. His arms held the two swords she had bestowed upon him to protect her, “Bás and Sceimhle, which he crossed with an explosive thunder before jumping into the air and spreading the mighty span of his wings before departing impossibly fast to do the bidding of the Bandia Dorcha.

A murmur began to build among those that were assembled, their voices gradually going from softness to the roar of an ocean as their Goddess still knelt where she had been with Dara a moment before. They spoke of what could have possibly happened to suborn the Bandia Dorcha herself and, if they could, was she indeed…

All thoughts and words were stopped in an instant as Siobhan rose from where she knelt to her full height. Her skin was alabaster white, the top half of her covered in strips of material that could only be referred to as darkness. There was nothing there, yet, the eye could not penetrate it. Her lower half sheathed in the same so that all could be seen was shape, form, never the flesh itself.

She raised both of her hands in front of her, curling her arms in at the elbows as she slowly lifted from the ground. From her back sprouted no wings, but feathers. Gorgeous blacks and purples in each eye of the feather. Each one shone with a familiar gleam that made some think they were blades instead of feathers at all. Her hair, black as pitch, rose above her head, and her eyes opened wide, cast out among her people with a burning fire of rage and hate.

“You will all go, you will go, and you will find the Grey Man, you will find him in his Light, and you will bring him to the Goddess of the Darkness, and you will make sure he is untouched with blade or claw. He is mine. You will go, and you will do this now.” Her voice was impossibly loud, yet it was only in each of their minds, each of them given an individual search task by the Goddess they had doubted mere moments before. Each of them remembering, with shame in their hearts, how the Goddess had brought them into the world and named each one and bestowed upon them the kiss from her lips to make them live.

A smile turned into a growl as emerald green impossibly rotted away the perfect purple of her eyes. Finally, as their minds screamed to them in her voice, telling them to flee, the Goddess of the Darkness and their Existence spoke a final sentence, her face turning feral and wicked to behold, the voice though, the voice was regal as ever and the venom it dripped was no less savage.

“He will not win Sister Mine, We will destroy Him.”